#the last gif. is so intense. he's so. that man has been waiting OVER A DECADE FOR THIS

[thephantom]

To seek revenge may lead to Hell; everyone does it, though seldom as well... As Sweeney... As Sweeney Todd... The Demon Barber of Fleet Street! Josh Groban in the title role, 2023. @theriddletrades' master.

[sugarcoated-lame]

Pretend To Be My Boyfriend? | Rhett Abbott x Reader

all of my works are 18+ only, minors DNI!

Synopsis: When a guy won't leave you alone, you ask the pretty cowboy at the bar to pretend to be your boyfriend.

WC: 2900

Warnings: not much? this is mostly just fluff :) fake dating, mentions of harassment/guys being creepy, mentions of alcohol and drinking, flirting? like one mention of sex, i feel like that gif of rhett should be a warning

a/n: I've had this idea in my head for a while and finally decided to write it (: kinda feel like it's a bit shit but please enjoy, comments, reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated! ♥

*

*

“Hey, honey!” Rhett hears a sweet voice call out through the dimly lit, noisy bar. He senses a figure approaching to the left of the barstool he’s sat on, hand freezing halfway to his mouth as he goes to take a sip from his bottle of beer.

It takes him a moment to realize that you’re speaking to him, his confused expression meeting your hopeful, smiling one. He checks behind him for somebody else, but nope, there’s no one there — you’re definitely talking to him.

“Uh…hi? Do I- do we… know each other?” Rhett places his beer down on the bar, wincing as he asks the question; it wouldn’t be the first time he’d forgotten a woman that he’d met in this very bar and drunkenly hooked up with. And that situation never usually ends well for him.

You’re very pretty — beautiful, actually — and Rhett decides right then that he definitely doesn’t know you. There’s no way he’d ever be able to forget a face like that.

He’s pulled from his thoughts as you step a little closer to him, and though you’re still smiling, within the newfound proximity Rhett can now see a frazzled, almost pleading look in your bright eyes as you go to speak again.

“Can you pretend to be my boyfriend?” You ask, your voice lowered to a level that only he can hear.

“Uh…” Rhett’s confusion is written all over his face, from his brows that furrow adorably to his gaping mouth.

Your own expression turns sheepish as you realize how silly the question sounds, and you’re quick to intercept and elaborate for him.

“There’s a guy over there,” you turn away from Rhett slightly and nod your head subtly to your left and catch a glimpse of the drunken stranger who wouldn’t leave you alone. “He’s been trying to hit on me for the last thirty minutes. Can’t seem to get the hint that I’m not interested.”

Rhett follows your gaze and sees a man sipping a beer and staring at the two of you from the other side of the bar.

“So… I told him that I was waiting for my boyfriend.”

When he meets your eyes again, he can tell that you’re trying to play it cool, but Rhett can sense that little hint of fear in your eyes and the worry in voice. And, though he doesn’t know you, he feels his protective instincts kick in.

You can see the change in his demeanor almost immediately, shoulders squared as he sends the other man across the room an intimidating glare that you don’t think you’d ever want to be on the receiving end of.

But, when Rhett’s gaze returns to you, his blue eyes soften and his lips turn up just a bit. He gestures to the empty stool next to his and you take the seat with a sigh of relief and a grateful smile.

“If I’m gonna be your boyfriend, then I guess you should know my name. I’m Rhett.”

Your own shoulders deflate in relief that this kind stranger — Rhett — has agreed to help you, a genuine smile now forming on your lips as you introduce yourself as well.

You’re not entirely sure what made you choose him, but for some reason you found yourself drawn to the pretty cowboy sitting alone at the bar and drinking a beer. And, you’re glad you did.

He’s even prettier up close — little curls peeking out beneath his Stetson hat, adorable button nose, and his eyes captivating pools of blue, intense in their gaze that’s now focused on you. His voice deep and rich, and oh-so soothing.

“You new to town? I don’t think I’ve seen you around here.” He’d definitely remember if he had.

You nod your head in confirmation. “Very new, I just moved here two days ago for work.”

“Well, welcome to Wabang. I promise not all us guys here are creeps like that asshole.” Rhett promises, once again glancing toward the man who had been harassing you earlier.

That draws a light chuckle out of you, but before you can respond, Rhett narrows his eyes and goes to speak again.

“Speaking of which, he’s still staring over here. I’m gonna put my arm around you… if you’re okay with that.”

Your head nods in agreement without really thinking much about it. Admittedly, you find yourself a little bit lost in the quiet, gravely tone of Rhett’s voice, that deep southern accent, and you’re fairly certain he could get you to agree to anything if he keeps talking to you like that.

Before you can register what’s happening, you’re enveloped by warmth and a pleasant musk that’s a spicy mix of vanilla and tobacco as Rhett leans in and drapes a protective arm over your shoulders.

“Can I get you a drink, sweetheart?” Rhett emphasizes the last word sarcastically; if he’s going to pretend to be your boyfriend, he’s going to have fun with it.

You take a second too long to answer, too busy trying to inhale Rhett’s scent again as discreetly as possible, hoping he doesn’t notice — he definitely notices.

When you look back up into his eyes, there’s a playful mirth to them, and a smirk overtaking his lips at how flustered you are by the close proximity and the use of the pet name.

“Y-yeah…yes.” You shake your head as though to clear it. “I’ll have a beer.”

As you inwardly cringe at yourself for stumbling through your answer, Rhett simply smirks and raises his hand to flag down the bartender and order your drink, all the while keeping you close to his side underneath his arm.

Only when the bartender places the bottle down in front of you does Rhett remove his arm from around your shoulders, and you find yourself already missing the warmth of the denim of his jacket on your bare skin.

“So, you moved here for work. What do you do?”

You tell him all about your new job and how excited you are for this fresh start in a new place, and Rhett listens intently, chiming in when necessary, loving how passionate you are about your work and content to just listen to the melodic sound of your voice.

“Alright, enough about me. What do you do, Rhett?” It’s the first time you’ve said his name tonight and Rhett feels his cheeks heat, deciding right then that he loves the way it sounds on your lips and that he needs to hear it more.

“I help out on my family’s ranch,” Rhett tells you. “…But I’m also a bull rider.” A small grin grows on his lips that tells you just how much he loves it.

“A bull rider?!” You’re beaming at him, eyes widened in surprise. “No way, that’s so cool! Way cooler than my job.”

Rhett lets out a deep chuckle and shakes his head in an attempt to protest. Bashful and blushing even harder now, he tries to brush it off – unable to take a compliment, but you’re having none of it.

“Come on, it’s very impressive! Maybe I’ll come cheer you on in the stands sometime.”

“Yeah?” The two of you share light-hearted grins and you give Rhett an affirmative nod. Yeah, he would definitely like that.

The two of you sit at the bar and talk for a while longer, Rhett buying you a couple more beers. You discuss anything and everything that comes to mind and share a good few laughs, the alcohol leaving you on just the right side of tipsy, feeling open and content – light.

Rhett only nurses the one beer that he’s been drinking since you approached him earlier in the evening. He finds himself already feeling a bit protective of you, liking the responsibility of keeping an eye on you and making sure you’re having a good time. Besides, he just really enjoys talking to you and doesn’t feel the need to get drunk tonight.

Rhett continues to also keep an eye on the guy who was bothering you earlier – though he’s fairly certain he wouldn’t try to approach you again since you’ve been at Rhett’s side for a while now, his arm once again finding itself wrapped securely around your side.

However, Rhett’s noticed throughout the night that he’s not the only man in the bar he’s caught looking at you – yes, you’re new in town, but he knows they’re also looking – staring really – because of how beautiful you are. And he maybe finds himself feeling a bit jealous.

“Seems you’ve caught the attention of just about every guy in here tonight.” Rhett informs you with a teasing lilt to his voice to make light of the situation, smirking into his beer bottle as he takes the final sip.

“Not that I want it.” You roll your eyes dramatically. A playful smirk then takes over your lips — you’ve got an idea. The corner of Rhett’s lips quirk up a bit too as his brow raises in question.

“Just trust me.” Your face is leaning in closer towards him and before Rhett can process what’s happening, you lean in and press a gentle kiss to his cheek.

The fact that you’re tipsy has definitely provided you some liquid courage, that much is for sure when you pull back and shift to whisper into Rhett’s ear.

“Gotta let them know that I’m all yours.” Your tone is playful, sarcastically seductive, the warmth of your breath against the skin of Rhett’s earlobe sending a shiver down his spine and he has to fight to hold back a groan. God, does he wish that statement were true.

You can’t stop the little fit of giggles that escapes you as you pull back, and Rhett can’t help but chuckle along with you. Admiring the way your eyes crinkle up when you laugh, the adorable way that your nose wrinkles too. The skin of his cheek is still burning where your plush lips had kissed him.

Now it’s Rhett who has an idea, you can almost see the light bulb flicker behind his crystal blue eyes when they peer into yours again.

“Do you have a ride home?” He asks and your brows furrow adorably, curious as to where he’s going with this. You let him know that you were just going to call an Uber.

“I can drive you home… if you’d like.” Rhett’s nowhere near drunk from the one beer he’s had all evening.

“And there is a way you could show everyone you’re mine.” He proposes, that playful smirk returning to his lips and a mischievous look in his eyes.

“Oh?” You narrow your eyes at Rhett, but you can’t help but grin along with him, still wondering what he could possibly be suggesting.

Rhett goes to remove the cowboy hat from his head, repeating your own words from only a few moments ago. “Just trust me.”

He moves to place the hat atop your head, a silly grin still on his face as he adjusts it over your hair. You meet his look with a puzzled smile of your own, unsure of what he meant, but something within you tells you that you can – trust him, that is.  

Rhett flags down the bartender and closes his tab before lightly knocking his fists on the wooden bar top.

“Come on, let’s get you home.” Rhett chuckles like he knows something you don’t, and you can only roll your eyes in jest as you wait to be let in on the joke.

Rhett watches as you shrug on your jacket, stealing a long glance at you wearing his Stetson – feeling a sense of pride swell in his chest and enjoying the way it looks on your head – before he gently ushers you toward the exit of the bar.

Near the door, he sends a self-assured smirk to the asshole who had been bothering you earlier in the evening, who just watches along from a nearby booth with his buddies, a sour look on his face as you walk out into the night with Rhett’s arm draped over your shoulder.

Only when you’re secured into the passenger side of his truck does Rhett divulge the nature of his plan.

“So, uh — the hat,” Rhett nods towards his hat that you’re wearing and your fingers reach up to touch the worn fabric. “If you wear someone’s cowboy hat, you’re supposed to uh…ride the cowboy…”

He trails off, admittedly a bit nervous now – he doesn’t want to come off as a creep – as he explains the ‘cowboy hat rule’ as he called it, to you. His way of making the whole ‘fake boyfriend’ thing seem a bit more real to any prying eyes, showing everyone in the bar that you’re ‘his’.

You stare at him in bewilderment for a long moment, mouth agape. Your expression sends Rhett into a boisterous fit of laughter, unable to refrain, and earns him a playful smack on the arm.

You close your eyes and cover your face with your palms. “Oh my god…”

“Oh, come on. It’s kinda funny.” Rhett contends through his laughter and you send him what you hope to be a scornful pout. But there’s no real malice behind it, a smile fighting to break through as you find it hard to be annoyed with him.

“And it’s not like I’m gonna hold you to it.” He promises with a wink that might make you swoon if you weren’t already sitting down.

Before you know it, you’re joining in on the laughs, unable to hold back any longer and relishing in the humor or the situation.

Once you’ve rattled off your address to Rhett, the ride to your home is filled with quiet music pouring from the truck’s radio – though it merely serves as background noise as you and Rhett spend the entire 20-minute drive talking. Sharing little details about yourselves and making plenty more jokes. His Stetson still sitting pretty atop your head.

Despite having spent hours talking with him in the bar, you still find yourself wanting to know more about him, not wanting the conversation – or this night –  to end.

The truck reaches your little house all too soon, and Rhett finds himself not wanting the night to end either. Pretending to be your boyfriend was the highlight of his evening and he wants nothing more than to see you again.

When he stops the truck at the end of the little path leading to your front door, Rhett clears his throat before moving to speak.

“So, I — uh, I was wondering, c-could I… maybe get your phone number?” Rhett asks quietly, a pink flush taking over his pale cheeks as he internally curses himself for sounding so nervous.

You don’t mind it, though — this seemingly tough cowboy growing all flustered and stumbling over his words for you? You couldn’t find it more endearing.  

Rhett holds his breath as your pretty eyes — slightly glassy still from the alcohol you’d consumed earlier in the evening, look straight into his blue ones, and you grace him with a coy smile.

“Of course. Who else am I going to call when guys are harassing me and I need a fake boyfriend?”

Rhett releases the breath he was holding and bites back a smile, his shoulders dropping in relief. “Great.”

Once you’ve exchanged numbers, you gingerly remove Rhett’s hat from your head, smoothing down your hair.

Unbuckling your seatbelt, you scoot closer toward him in the bench seat, reaching up to carefully place it back on top of his head  — your eyes gazing into Rhett’s blue ones as they peer back into yours, the two of you sharing bashful smiles.

With the cowboy hat secured on the head of its rightful owner, you move to pull away. However, you pause before you get too far, deciding to lean in and place one last kiss to Rhett’s cheek before climbing out of his truck.

Rhett’s in such a daze – cheeks flushing that bright pink once again as warmth radiates from where your lips had kissed him, and a dopey grin on his lips – that he almost doesn’t notice as you walk around to the driver’s side of his truck, leaning a bit into the open window. Your face close to his, lit up all pretty in the moonlight.

“Thank you for turning my shitty night around, Rhett.” You bite back a grin. “I had a lot of fun.”

Before Rhett can respond – still flustered from the kiss to his cheek and now from hearing you say his name again, you back away from his window, making your way towards the path. Walking backwards, still facing the truck and grinning at him all the while.

“Oh, and you’re a really great fake boyfriend!” You call out.

Breaking off into a giggle that carries in the night’s slight breeze and Rhett can only chuckle back, shaking his head as he watches you with a fond smile.  

With that, you turn around and walk off to your house with a spring in your step. Rhett stays sat there in his truck until he sees you make it through your front door safely, and he’s absolutely beaming.

Rhett's going to call you first thing tomorrow. He hopes that he can turn this ‘fake’ boyfriend situation into something real.

*

*

*

*

Thank you for reading! x

taglist: @wkndwlff @sebsxphia @chaoticassidy @dempy @ohgodnotagainn @shanimallina87 @mavrellover91  @memoriesat30  @that-bitch-bri @classyunknownlover @hisredheadedgoddess28 ♥

also tagging a few people that I think may enjoy/liked my last rhett fic ♥ : @roleycoleyreccenter @sunlightmurdock @rhettabbotts @mothdruid @lewmagoo @foreverrandomwritings @pillow-titties @sobshoney

*

*

*

[amhrosina]

Touch Me (Frank Castle x f!Reader)

MASTERLIST // JOIN MY TAG LIST

A/N: Hi friends! I know I said I wanted to get this out by yesterday, but I ended up at my local(ish?) urgent care yesterday afternoon because ya girl has apparently been walking around with bronchitis for two weeks now. I’m on medicine, and I’ve been resting/editing this all day, but I could not for the life of me get this thing finished yesterday. Anyways, I hope you enjoy! It is literally porn with plot. P.S. - bearded Frank makes me go absolutely FERAL, and the gif I chose for today's fic makes me even MORE FERAL!!!!!!

Request: if requests are open, do you think you could write about Pete/ Frank still works at the construction site and reader is his girlfriend and she visits him for lunch at the construction site and the guys are astonished and you can come up with the rest if you would like.

Word Count: 4.6k

Summary: When Frank’s coworkers notice you a little too much after you bring him his forgotten lunch, you want to remind him that he’s the only man for you, but Frank’s a generous lover, and you’re not leaving the truck until he’s made you come at least three times.

(Warnings: oh boy, smut, SMUT, did I mention smut??, porn with plot, v fingering, hand job sort of??, oral (fem receiving), p in v, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, creampie lol, truck sex, soooo much kissing, protective Frank, you save the horse and ride the cowboy – know what I mean??, Frank talks you through it!!!!!, mentions of oral (male receiving), Frank is a consent king, Frank will be damned if anything bad happens to his baby girl!!!)

Frank eyed the clock, a nervous tick he’d developed over the last three hours as he waited for lunchtime to roll around. On any other day, lunch would’ve come and gone without a second thought from Frank, but not today. In his hurry to get to work this morning, he’d left the lunch you’d generously packed for him the night before. It was your fault, technically, but Frank was a gentleman, and gentlemen weren’t supposed to blame their girlfriends for forgotten lunches, especially when it was the incredible head you were giving him that made him late leaving this morning.

He'd gotten shit for it the minute he stepped on the site, barely getting a chance to pour his coffee before the guys were on his ass about his punch card. Frank brushed it off. It was all in good fun anyways, and he was the boss around here, so it didn’t really matter if he was late once in a blue moon. He didn’t divulge the reason for his tardiness, much more inclined to grunt a “fuck off” towards the guys and start his work for the day.

The nervousness set it when you called and told him you’d bring his lunch to him. The guys knew almost nothing about Frank’s personal life, which is what he preferred. They didn’t know anything about his past, and they certainly didn’t know about you. What he had going on before and after work hours was none of their business, you were none of their business, but that would change any minute.

“You got a hot date or something, man?” Antonio, one of the only guys Frank tolerated, asked as they moved a stack of wooden beams towards what would eventually become a master bedroom.

“What?” Frank lifted his head, narrowing his eyes at Antonio.

“You’ve checked the clock more in the last 25 minutes than I do on Friday afternoons. You expectin’ somethin’?”

Frank let out a nervous chuckle, which did little to subside Antonio’s curiosity. Instead, intense concern crossed Antonio’s face, and Frank sighed, shaking his head. His brain felt like it had been rewired, and he had no idea how to respond to Antonio’s question without causing more questions. He didn’t have a chance to respond, though, because the sound of clicking heels had caused heads to turn faster than Frank knew was possible.

Frank turned, relaxing when he spotted you. You smiled and waved, ignoring the men around you that were clearly enamored by your presence. Frank couldn’t blame them – you were beautiful – but that didn’t keep the bubble of anger from welling up inside his chest. You were his, and if he was going to make one thing clear to them today, it was that.

Frank marched up to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling your body into his chest. He pressed a sultry kiss to your lips, slipping his tongue in your mouth in his way of saying hello. When you pulled away, you were smiling, and Frank couldn’t think of anything more beautiful than that damned smile of yours.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He grinned, slightly ashamed that he’d let his jealousy get the best of him in front of the guys that worked for him. It was definitely unprofessional to make out with your significant other in the middle of an active construction site while the entirety of your team gawked at your display of affection, right?

“That’s lunch.” He called out, not taking his eyes off yours.

The guys filed out, some with smirks on their faces, others with nothing but food on their minds. Antonio was smiling when he walked past the both of you, wiggling his eyebrows at Frank. Frank rolled his eyes, trying to remind himself why he barely tolerated the kid.

“Speaking of lunch,” you smiled, eyes bright and adoring as you looked at Frank, “Where do you want to eat? I’m not sure I can handle the roof.”

You were all too aware of Frank’s frequent lunch spots. Sitting a the top of buildings that were half constructed, legs hanging over the edge, was Frank’s favorite way to spend lunch, much to your chagrin. You were terrified of heights and refused to even think about how dangerous Frank’s lunch activities were.

“You want to stay?” Frank asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Of course! As long as we’re not eating on the roof.” You pointed upwards for emphasis, shaking your head.

“I guess I could change up my lunch spot for the day.” Frank faked an exasperated sigh. “What about my truck?”

“Sounds good to me, babe.” You smiled, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the front of what would eventually be a nice house in a nice neighborhood outside of Brooklyn. A house that Frank wished he could afford to buy for you. Hell, he’d build you a house if he could afford the land to build it on. You didn’t mind the small apartment you and Frank shared, but Frank couldn’t help the incessant desire to spoil you.

It was a brisk 35 degrees outside, and you bundled into Frank’s side as he opened the passenger side door for you. Frank hustled to the other side of the truck, quickly shutting the door behind him and starting the truck. The heat blasting from the vents was a welcome warmth, and Frank couldn’t shake the tiny sliver of guilt that sliced through him when you began blowing in your hands to warm them up. If he’d just remembered the fucking lunch box, you wouldn’t be sitting in the cold right now.

“Damn, the heat works so well in here.” You observed, holding your hands in the path of the hot air.

“One of the perks of being the boss, I guess.” Frank shrugged. The truck was a necessary purchase, especially once Frank’s work picked up, but you still weren’t used to it. You’d spent so many years taking the subway to get places that having access to a vehicle was a foreign concept to you. “I’m sorry you had to come all the way out here just to bring me lunch.”

“Don’t apologize. I like to see what you’re working on. I wish you’d let me come by more often.”

“You’d be bored. It’s just a bunch of sweaty old guys hammering nails.”

“Sounds like a wet dream to me.” You smirked, clearly joking at Frank’s expense. “I didn’t realize I’d cause such a fuss by showing up.”

Frank shrugged. “If any of them say a single word about you after lunch, I’m gonna break their jaws.”

“Frank, baby, relax.” You ran your hand up his arm. “Even if they do say something, it’s probably just because they had no idea I even existed.”

“I don’t like them knowing about you. You’re mine.”

Frank was aware that what he was saying was insane, but he never cared much about his sanity when it came to protecting the woman he loved. He’d be damned if another person was taken from him, and if that made him crazy, then so be it. Frank Castle would take crazy over mourning any day of the week.

You crept closer to Frank, shifting so that you could lean your elbow against the back of the bench seat.

“Them knowing about me doesn’t change that I’m yours, Frankie.”

Frank grunted, annoyance running through his veins. He knew you were right, but the fact that the guys were probably running their mouths about his relationship with you right now was getting on his nerves. He didn’t want you anywhere near their fucked up thoughts.

“You’re so tense, Frankie.” You mumbled, eyeing the way Frank was clenching and unclenching his fist in an irregular pattern. “Let me help you.”

This got his attention. His head swiveled around, eyebrows raised, as he looked to you for confirmation on what you’d just said. You matched his expression, unwilling to move until he consented to your idea.

“Yeah? You wanna help me?” He asked, already leaning back to make room for you to climb onto his lap.

“You could eat your lunch instead.” You mumbled, “If that’s what you want.”

Frank slowly shook his head, watching the way your throat bobbed when you swallowed.

“No.”

“You’re not hungry?” You asked, inching closer to him.

“Oh, I’m hungry.” Frank conceded, “But I’d rather have you for lunch.”

This omission sent a spark through your body, and you lurched forward, swinging your leg over his hip to straddle him. You looked down at him, enjoying the way his face already seemed more relaxed than moments before. You pressed a soft kiss on the crease of his forehead, the one that always made an appearance when he was stressing about something, and watched as it smoothed itself out.

Frank tilted his chin up, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss. His hand snaked up your back, curling his fingers in your hair and gently pulling on it, which elicited the most delicious gasp he’d ever heard slip from between your lips. He decided right then and there that if that sound was the last thing he ever heard, he’d die the happiest death a man could ask for.

He slammed his lips onto yours, unable to constrain himself any longer. His hands found themselves wrapped around your waist, pulling your body flush against his. You grinded yourself against him, moaning against Frank’s lips when you felt how hard he was through his jeans. You couldn’t stop yourself from grinding against him again, letting out a devilish groan when the friction of the movement rubbed against your clit.

“Frank,” you moaned in between kisses, “touch me.”

It wasn’t just a desire to please you; it was a need. Frank was nothing if not generous, and the minute you started begging, he had already unbuttoned and unzipped your jeans, shoving his hand down the front of your pants. Frank let out a loud groan when he realized how entirely soaked through your panties were, clenching the fingers that were fiddling with the waistband of your jeans.

You pushed your hips closer to his hand, dying to feel his fingers. The panting coming from the both of you had fogged up the windows of the truck, obstructing anyone’s view into the truck. The construction site was dead anyways, but at this point, you didn’t think you cared if someone could see in. You wanted Frank so badly that you had lost your ability to care about anything besides Frank’s fingers.

“Want me to touch you, baby?” Frank cooed, “Want me to make your pretty pussy feel good?”

Frank’s breath was hot on your neck, and you nearly came from his words alone.

“I’m supposed to be making you feel good.” You moaned, grinding your hips against Frank’s fingers again. Your actions completely juxtaposed your words, but you couldn’t help yourself. Frank was just so good at making you come.

“Making you feel good makes me feel good, sweetheart.” Frank pressed the pads of his fingers against the fabric of your panties, swirling them around in an achingly slow circle. A shiver worked its way up your spine, and you threw your head back, gasping with pleasure.

“Are you sure?” You panted, unsure if you could stand being clothed for another second.

Frank responded by swiping your underwear aside and running two fingers between the folds of your pussy. When his fingers finally covered your clit, you let out an agonizing moan. Frank resumed circling his fingers around your clit, but his pace was more urgent, like he wanted to see you get off on his fingers just as much as you wanted to come all over his hand.

Your legs began to shake, and you wrapped your arms around Frank’s neck, pulling him into a feverish kiss. His tongue dipped into your mouth, and you began to grind against his fingers in a rhythm that matched the pace of his hand. It was a flurry of passionate kisses and sinful moans as you came apart on Frank’s hand. You breathed through the orgasm as it crashed through you, slumping against Frank’s shoulder in exhaustion.

“My beautiful, beautiful girl,” Frank pulled his hand away from your clit, wrapping his arms around you and flipping you over so that your back lied against the front seat of the truck, “You did so good.”

Frank hovered over you, pressing a soft kiss onto your nose before gently capturing your lips with his. You were still reeling from your orgasm, content to stay in this position forever, when Frank suddenly sat up. You blinked up at him, wondering if maybe his lunch was already over, but the way he began to pull your jeans down your hips told you he was nowhere near done with you.

You kicked your jeans and panties off, pussy clenching around nothing as the air hit your wet core. You spread your legs further, giving Frank a view of how easily he’d ruined you.

“Fuck baby,” Frank groaned, rubbing his thumb through the slickness that had begun running down your inner thighs, “This is the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.”

You moaned when he began playing with your clit again, overstimulated but too turned on to stop him.

“Can I taste you?” Frank asked, fully focused on how wet you were. His eyes were glazed over, pupils dilated with desire.

“You’re being too generous.” You sat up, resting on your elbows as he finally locked eyes with you.

“I want to.” He shrugged, already positioning his face near your core. He threw your legs over his shoulders and rested his hands on your stomach, glancing up at you to make sure he had your consent. You spread your legs wider, nodding.

“I need words, baby. Can I taste you?”

Frank’s hot breath coasted over your pussy as he spoke, and the dull throb of desire erupted into a full blown ache.

“Yes, God, please.” You whined.

When his tongue finally met your core, you threw your head back and moaned so loud you were sure the entire neighborhood heard it. Frank was astonishingly graceful at eating pussy, approaching it like it was a dance between his tongue and your clit. He knew exactly when to be gentle, when to roughen it up, and when you were seconds away from coming all over his tongue, he knew exactly how to suck on your clit so that you saw stars for hours afterwards.

Frank normally liked to take his time with this, coaxing multiple small orgasms out of you before finally letting you fall apart around his mouth, but today he was on a time crunch, and he wanted to make you come around his cock before his lunch break was over, too. So instead of going slow and steady, Frank dined on your pussy like a man starved. He circled your clit with the tip of his tongue, licking and sucking all throughout your core as you came closer and closer to your orgasm. He teased your entrance with his tongue, coasting over it every time he flattened his tongue against your folds.

“Oh shit, Frank.” You groaned, arching your back.

He hummed against your pussy, which had your legs shaking so aggressively that he had to clamp his hands over them to keep them from sliding off his shoulders. You were so close, and Frank knew it. He smirked against your core, trailing his tongue around your clit before slightly sucking. Your body felt like it was on fire, and when the crux of your orgasm finally hit you, you couldn’t stop yourself from squeezing your legs into the sides of Frank’s head. You could feel your heart pounding against your ribs, and no matter how deeply you inhaled, you couldn’t quite catch your breath. The world around you faded, and the only thing you could focus on was the feeling of Frank’s hands gently caressing your thighs.

Frank crawled up your body, hovering over you as you came back to yourself. You hadn’t expected to come that hard, especially not in a cramped space like Frank’s car, but he always managed to surprise you.

You swallowed thickly, blinking up at his swollen and slick lips. He was always beautiful, you thought, but right now, you’d never seen anything as beautiful as him covered in your wetness. You leaned upwards, kissing him with every ounce of yourself that you could. The taste of you was still fresh on his tongue, and he groaned when you swiped your tongue against his, grinding against your unclothed pussy with his denim jeans.

The friction was overstimulating, but you wanted him deep inside you so badly that you began meeting his hips halfway, grinding against him so heavily that you were sure he’d have stains on the front of his jeans later. He shifted his weight onto one arm, reaching down and unbuckling his belt with one had. He was moving at a languid pace, and you couldn’t stop yourself from knocking his hand out of the way and unbuttoning his jeans. He chuckled when you undid his zipper in record time, forcing his jeans and underwear halfway down his thighs.

“Someone’s eager to feel my cock, huh?” Frank cooed, brushing his nose against yours, “You want me to fuck you silly, sweetheart?”

You wrapped your hand around his achingly hard cock, pumping up and down as he teased you. The tip was already wet, drops of precum beading at the head.

“Can I ride you?” You asked, pushing his shoulders slightly.

He raised his eyebrows at your boldness. You were usually so eager to let him control the situation, but the look in your eyes when you spoke told a different story. You wanted to make him feel good, and you weren’t planning on letting him leave until that happened.

“Sometimes,” you started, sitting up and pushing Frank down into the seat underneath you, “I want to be the one to fuck you silly.”

You straddled Frank and lined him up with your entrance. You were not going to waste any more of his break not fucking him. Frank let out a stuttering moan as you lowered yourself onto him. When you were finally full of him, stretched out and pliant, you panted at the overwhelming feeling. No matter how many times Frank fucked you, it always took you a few moments to adjust to his size.

“Fuck, sweetheart.” Frank leaned his head against the headrest, grabbing onto your hips in a brutal hold that you knew would bruise later.

You slowly began to rock against him, holding onto the seat behind him for leverage. You moaned when his cock pushed against the spot deep within you that drove you crazy, and couldn’t help the way your breath stuttered out of you. Frank angled his face towards yours, watching in awe as you panted over him, licking your lips and squeezing your eyes closed. He leaned toward you, nipping your jaw with his teeth in a teasing gesture. You ground down on him even harder, and he chuckled.

“You’re doing so good, sweetheart.” Frank hummed, running his nose along the curve of your cheekbone. “Your pretty pussy drives me crazy sometimes.”

“Yeah?” You mumbled, picking up your rhythm as you grinded against him. You yelped when you felt his arm wrap around your waist, bucking up into you so hard that you swore you saw stars.

“Can’t think about anything else some days.” Frank nuzzled his cheek against yours, tightening his hold around you. “You’re fucking perfect, baby.”

You mewled at his praise, even though you had made it clear that you wanted to be the one making him feel good, not the other way around. You couldn’t help but mewl. He always knew what to say to make your chest warm and fuzzy, even when he was fucking up into you so hard that you knew you wouldn’t be able to walk straight for a week.

“C’mon baby girl,” Frank’s tone was low and delicious, and the tingle that worked its way up your spine told you exactly how much you liked the sound of it, “Give me one more, baby.”

“Frank, I-” You let out a guttural moan when you felt his fingers tracing a circle around your clit. Your legs began to shake again, and you knew you were seconds away from coming again. “I’m supposed to be making you feel good.” You finally panted, quickening your pace as you grinded against his cock and fingers.

“I want you to come on my cock, sweetheart.” Frank smirked as you squeezed around him, “That will make me feel good, baby. Can you do that for me, baby girl? Hmm? I know you can. Make me feel good, sweet girl. Come on my cock.”

Frank was talking you through it, and you could not fathom how incredibly hot it was. The intensity at which your orgasm hit you was earth-shattering, and if the neighborhood hadn’t heard you earlier, they certainly heard you this time. You rocked against Frank, whining and panting and doing everything in your power not to fall apart completely before he could reach his high as well.

“My good girl,” Frank wrapped both arms around your waist, pulling your chest against his so that he could kiss you all over your face, “You did so good, sweetheart.”

His praise made you whine, and you couldn’t stop yourself from slamming your lips into his, quickening your pace as you grinded against him. It was overstimulating, sure, but you couldn’t think of anything you wanted more than Frank coming deep inside you.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Frank mumbled against your lips, tightening his arms around you, “’m gonna come.”

“Come in me,” you panted, squeezing around his cock.

“Yeah, baby? Want me to fill you up?” Frank was breathing so heavy against your ear that goosebumps littered down your back and shoulders. You dug your nails into his shoulders as he pounded up into you, and when he finally came, warm spurts of come coating your walls, you both slumped against each other, worn out and sweaty.

Frank’s heart was pounding in his chest, and you subconsciously tapped your finger against his neck in the same rhythm until it finally calmed down. You leaned back, glancing over Frank’s features. His eyes were closed, chin tilted upwards in a relaxed, casual position. The stress creases in his face were long gone, and he looked a decade younger than he did when you’d shown up earlier.

“Wish we could stay like this.” He mumbled, running his fingers along your thighs.

“Me too, Frankie.” You nodded, cupping his cheeks in your hands, and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “How much time until you have to go back?”

Frank slightly opened one of his eyes, checking the clock on the dash before closing it again. “Just enough time to drop you off at home and come back. The guys will appreciate the extended lunch.”

You shook your head. “I can get an uber or take the subway, Frank. You don’t have to drive me.”

“What kind of man would I be if I didn’t drive my beautiful girlfriend home after she came all the way here to bring me lunch and make me feel good?”

“A normal one.” You snorted, rolling your eyes.

“Well then I guess I ain’t normal.” Frank smiled, leaning in to kiss you before tapping your thigh with his hand. “I hate to say it, but I can’t drive with you straddlin’ me like this.”

You lifted yourself off him, rolling over into the passenger seat. Your limbs still buzzed with pleasure, and it took you longer than you care to admit to find your panties and put them back on. You were pulling your jeans over your hips when Frank began to roll the windows down and wipe the windshield off. You and him had emitted enough fog that it was impossible to see out of any of the windows, let alone drive.

When the windows were finally cleared and Frank had texted Antonio to let him know he’d be a few minutes late getting back from lunch (Antonio’s only response was the winking emoji), Frank drove you back to the apartment you shared with him. He walked you to the door, kissed you goodbye, turned, then turned back to kiss you again.

“I left your lunch on the passenger seat, okay? It should still be warm with how hot the truck was earlier.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.” Frank grinned, pulling you in for a third goodbye kiss.

You finally pushed him off you, chuckling when he tried to chase your lips with his.

“Go to work, Frank. I’ll see you tonight.” You laughed as he rolled his eyes, giving you a final kiss before turning and jogging back to the truck. When you closed the door and locked it, you slumped towards the bedroom, the only thing on your mind being the nap you were about to take.

Frank ate his lunch on the drive back to the construction site, nearly getting choked up when he realized you had gotten him Lombardi’s pizza. You knew how much he loved it, and he vowed to show you how grateful he was when he returned home. When he made it back to the site, he was only half an hour late, but that didn’t stop the guys from joking with him about it.

“Twice in one day, boss? She worth it?”

“Must be. He doesn’t look half as grumpy as he usually does.”

Frank rolled his eyes, counting to ten as a way to manage his anger before outwardly responding.

“If any of you fuckers have anything else to say about her, I’ll bash your heads in with the sledgehammer. Got it?”

Frank glanced at the faces around him. So much for managing his anger. Antonio was the only one that didn’t look utterly terrified as they returned to work.

“So, boss.” Antonio started, smirking as he leaned against one of the structural beams.

“Don’t you start.” Frank pointed at him for emphasis, warning the kid away from any topics he may regret bringing up. He really wasn’t a bad kid, and he was one of the hardest workers Frank had encountered in the business, but he did not want to discuss his love life with his 22 year old employee.

“I was just going to ask how much plaster you think we’ll need for the bathroom.” Antonio pointed behind him with his thumb, gesturing towards the space that would soon be an ensuite.

“Sure you were.” Frank couldn’t wait to end the day and crawl into your loving arms, but he had a shit ton of work to do before then, and he would always be the last one on site for the evening.

Later that evening, after he’d finally trudged through the door, showered, and ravished you, you were caressing his chest as he pressed a kiss to your hair.

“So,” you murmured, “D’ya break any jaws after I left?”

“You’ll be happy to know that I didn’t break any jaws after you left.”

You quirked an eyebrow at him.

“What?” He asked.

“You mean to tell me that you didn’t lose your shit on anyone after I left today?”

“No,” he shook his head, “that’s not what I said. I definitely lost my shit, but I didn’t break anyone’s jaw.”

“Oh, that’s good.” You mumbled sarcastically, rolling your eyes and chuckling.

You nuzzled into his chest, relaxing as he enveloped you with warmth.

“I love you, sweet girl. I’m not ashamed of that. Hell, I’ll shout it from the rooftop if you want me to. I just don’t like people knowing my business. I want to keep you safe.”

“I know, Frankie. I’m not upset about it. I love you too.”

“You promise?”

“That I love you?” You smirked against his chest.

“No, smart ass. That you’re not upset.”

“I promise.” You grinned as he pressed a kiss into your hair.

Tag List:

@xleiaorgana @mukbee @dilfs5678 @kokoterainonago666 @blackwidownat2814 @mymamalife @minervadashwood @emiemiemiii @h4rrys @messymissy @mylifeispainandiloveit @mossexe @fightmilk @spikedhe4rt @fictional-hooman @merleisapartygod @babyslyth @legocity2 @quackson03 @certifiedhunter @deliciousfestsalad @dumb-fawkin-bitch @americaarse @thatgirljayy @hiyabyeyababy @theesexystallion @scoliobean @myguiltypleasures21 @alexxavicry @hallecarey1 @km-ffluv @chiaraxtargaryen @trulylavandedarling @D0wnbad @lilyevans1 @imagineadream @22carolina08 @definitelynotsugar @casualchaoticdevil @peachy-flxwr @nashja @megmastersgf

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Flufftober Day 1 | It'll be okay

Pairing | Best friend!Chris Evans x Best friend!Female!Reader

Word count | 1.3K

Summary | After nearly a decade of being together, you're going through a very intense break-up, so you're at a loss about what to do with yourself. Luckily for you, your best friend Chris knows exactly what to do to make you feel better, and you're very thankful to have him in your life.

Warning(s) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. RPF, hurt/comfort, Reader going through a tricky (mutual) break-up, Chris being the best friend ever, implied smut.

Prompt(s) | 1. ''I've got you'' | @flufftober 2023

A/n | I'm slowly catching up with the missed days, so here's the first one to complete the collection this month! I thought I'd start the month off with a bit of hurt/comfort, so I hope you will all enjoy it as much as I did when writing it 🖤

Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 🧡

Divider made by @cafekitsune | GIF-credit goes to @quacxon

Main Masterlist | Chris Evans Masterlist | Flufftober Masterlist

''I think it's about time we talk,'' your boyfriend, Nathan, says as he sits at the dinner table. You just finished preparing dinner and have put it on the table, though you're extremely worried as you see the look on his face.

''I-Is everything okay…?'' you ask, though you already know what will come out of his mouth next. This is the talk you've been dreading for a while, ever since he mentioned the possibility of working overseas a few months ago.

''Actually, no, it's not,'' he says as he's fighting back the tears, and you stand up to sit on his lap, where you grab his face and place your forehead against his.

He doesn't have to say the words to know it's over, though you're not ready to face that reality yet. ''Can we have one more night together? Please, it's all I'm asking before you go,'' you ask as you close your eyes, hoping to stop the tears from falling, but to no avail.

Nathan wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you closer until there's little to no space left between the two of you, and that's when he kisses you in a way that sends you soaring.

''I'd love nothing more than that,'' he says before he picks you up and walks you to the bedroom, the dinner you prepared forgotten entirely as the two of you make love for the rest of the evening and night, exploring every inch of each other one last time.

The following day has come too soon, and you've packed your stuff quickly since most of the things in the house are Nathan's, and he can decide what to do.

Finally, the moment to say goodbye is here, and you can't hold back the tears that are coming because you two have been through a lot over the past nine years.

''Please, kiss me one last time before I go,'' you ask of him, and he does by pulling you close to him and closing the distance with the softest, sweetest, most heartbreaking kiss you have ever felt. When you pull away, you give him a sad smile before pulling away from his hold.

''I wish you all the best, Nathan. And I hope you will find the woman of your dreams there, as well. You deserve it,'' you say as you pick up your duffel bag and suitcase; the rest of your stuff is in a storage unit until you have found your place to live.

''I hope you find love too because I know that whatever man you choose must be exceptional to be loved by you,'' he says, and with a slight nod and a last wave, you walk out the door of the place you once called home.

The Uber you called is already waiting for you as you load the suitcase and duffel bag into the trunk of the car, and you wave to Nathan one last time before getting into your Uber. As he drives off, you're officially leaving your old life behind.

For now, you'll be staying at your best friend Chris' house until you've found your place, and that's where you're headed while he's preparing for your arrival.

He made you two care packages for when you arrive to make you feel a little more at home right away since you'll be living in his house for at least two months, maybe even longer.

Chris has been busy getting a few care packages ready for your arrival the entire morning. The first one he made included everything from a blanket to cuddle under to a few pairs of fuzzy socks and from a few books to your favorite snacks.

The other one is in your bathroom, attached to the guest bedroom you'll be occupying. It includes pads and tampons in various shapes and sizes, a few face masks, a thick bathrobe, fuzzy slippers, different kinds of shampoos/conditioners, and a purple vibrator, which he got as a joke, knowing you'd appreciate it.

He's in his kitchen preparing lunch when he gets your message.

< Princess 👑 > I'll be there in 10 minutes. I can't wait to see you and Dodger again!

< Chris 🐶 > We can't wait either, Princess. We're already waiting for you!

He sends the text with a photo of Dodger, who's excitedly looking out the window after he told him you'd be coming over later.

When you see the photo, you instantly get a big smile and are excited to see him again, even though you've just said goodbye to the man you were convinced you'd marry one day.

''We're here, ma'am,'' your Uber driver says, and you get out of the Uber, seeing Chris waiting at his front door for you. After grabbing your suitcase and duffel bag, you thank the Uber driver and walk up to your best friend.

He lets you put your stuff inside before pulling you into a hug, and almost instantly, you burst out into tears as you feel the safety of his arms enveloping you.

''Shhh, it'll be okay, Princess, I've got you,'' he says between kisses on the crown of your head, his big hands rubbing your back softly as you cry into his chest, soaking his shirt. It is far from pretty, but you would be lying if you said you weren't feeling 100 times better after.

''I-I'm sorry, I need to freshen up,'' you say before pulling away and instantly feeling guilty as you see the mess you made of his shirt.

''Hey, don't worry about my shirt. It'll get clean in the wash,'' he says, and you nod before apologizing again and freshen yourself up in the bathroom and change into some comfortable clothing before getting some Dodger cuddles.

Once you walk into your room, you spot a big basket with stuff on your bed, and you walk over to peek at everything in there, finding a little note from Chris as well.

''I hope this will make you feel right at home'' is what it says on the card, and you can't help but smile at it and nod softly. It's everything you could have wished for and more.

Walking into the bathroom, you see a similar basket, which immediately warms your heart until you look at everything there. ''You little shit,'' you laugh as you find the vibrator he got you, though you plan to make good use of that in a while.

When you're freshened up and wearing your glasses, your hair in a messy bun, and your comfiest clothing is put on, you walk downstairs, immediately greeted by Dodger.

''Hi, Buddy! Come on, let's get some cuddles on the couch, okay?'' you say, and he happily follows you before jumping on and taking his place in your lap.

''I see someone's happy to see you,'' Chris laughs as he walks in with a cup of tea for you and some water for himself, and he grabs the lunch he was preparing before you came over, having made enough to share between both of you.

''Thank you for everything, Chris. It means a lot that you'll let me stay here,'' you say with a big smile. He rubs your cheek lovingly with his thumb, and you lean into his touch.

That day is spent watching some cheesy rom-coms, cuddling with Dodger, eating ice cream and other snacks, and that evening, you fell asleep when you were cuddled up against Chris.

He carried you to bed and tucked you in, but before he could leave, you woke up and turned to him.

''Stay, please,'' you croak out softly. He has never been one to say no to you, so that first night is spent sleeping in Chris' arms, in your safe place. You haven't slept that comfortably in a while.

[novaonhere]

Pretty Boy

Relationship: Cal Kestis x f!reader

Summary: In the midst of intense training, Cal’s usually hilarious banter turns into a confession.

Word Count: 800

Warnings: Chaotic in a good way, cussing

A/N: Sorry for the infrequent posts, school has been taking most of my time, and I'll post when I can. I do have all of your requests drafted up and I just need to type them out. I haven't forgotten about you lovely people!

Prompt: “…Wait a second, this isn’t how I wanted things to go. What the hell?” “That’s the worst confession I’ve heard in a while.”

(gif not mine)

————————————————————————

Sweat pours down the Jedi's face, raising his lightsaber to block once more. His eyebrows furrow, his lips tighten by the edges; she was getting much better at this. Striking his saber down, he takes a large jump backwards, his hair striking his freckled forehead. Small strands stick to his face as he quickly flicks them away. His eyes look to hers, a very noticeable frown portrayed.

His sparing partner seemed to be effortlessly whooping his ass. Her hair not once flying into her face, her eyes constantly trained onto him, the playing field, the deadly weapons in the vicinity. She wasn't rubbing it in his face, per say, but Cal was usually the one outsmarting his friend. Friend? Is that the right term? What was she? Who was she to him? Only the sound of her lightsaber retracting let him out of his trance.

"You seem out of it," She states, placing a hand on her hip. "You're usually trying to make some witty remarks, but I've almost cut your face like three times." Cal retracts his saber as well.

"My bad," Cal rubs the back of neck, his eyes never leaving his dirt covered shoes. "Lost in thought," She only hums, taking a few steps closer to him. He can physically hear his heartbeat as if it was trying to escape the jail cell that was his rib cage. His ears burn, feeling exposed. His body seems to move faster than his brain, as he takes a huge jump backwards, whipping out his saber in a ready position. This catches his friend off guard, her hand shadowing over her own saber.

"Let's get to it, shall we?" He taunts, taking a swing at her. In the blink of an eye, she counters, knocking the sabers off to the side as she dodges.

"Of course, the hit and run," He smiles, his ears still on fire. What was he saying? Why was he talking? Small giggles erupt from the other Jedi, causing Cal's breath to hitch. Sensing his hesitation, she takes a jab at him. Now it was Cal's turn to hit and run.

"You see, copying is the biggest for of flattery, Cal." She smiles, wasting no time to swipe at his feet. He jumps backwards, inching closer and closer to the wall of the practice arena. "You scared, pretty boy?"

"Oh, I'm pretty now?" WTF WAS THAT, CAL? Now his entire face felt flush and hot, but the pretty girl did indeed let out another giggle. However, it's less enticing when she's practically backing him up against the wall of the arena.

"Of course, you got the hair, the freckles, the smile, and you're one of the last Jedi. You're a ladies' man, Cal-i." She smiles. He lifts up his saber to block her oncoming one, but she drops her own quickly and uses the Force to knock his out of his hand. It flies across the dirt, leaving Cal defenseless. She raises her saber, hovering a few inches away from Cal's throat. The heat of the saber warming both of their faces, one smirking, one flabbergasted. "Any last words?"

"If I'm pretty, then you must be handsome," Cal panicked. The already quiet room seemed to now have gone more silent.

"... What?" She laughs, retracting her saber, clearly having won the duel.

"No, not handsome, the other word," Cal retraces, refusing to meet her confused gaze.

"Am I the pretty one?" She asks, crossing her arms across her chest, the smirk never once leaving her face.

"Obviously, but you're so much more than that," He stumbles over his words, trying to get him out of this situation. “…Wait a second, this isn’t how I wanted things to go. What the hell?”

“That’s the worst confession I’ve heard in a while.” She laughs, lightly punching his tense arm. If his face could turn redder, it did in that moment. "I stand by my statement of you're pretty, ya know." Cal just blinks, and his jaw drops slightly.

"Oh," was the only word he could muster. She smiles, watching the realization slowly dawn on him. Like a tidal wave crashing over him, confidence surges through his body as he extends his arms and drapes them around the other Jedi's waist.

"So forward," She smiles, looking up at the redhead, as if she was waiting for him. With the goofiest grin, Cal leans down, closing the gap between them for a much-deserved kiss. They part ways, taking in the freshest breath they've ever had.

"Come on, pretty boy, you look exhausted. Let's get some rest before Cere asks us to go do something more productive." Locking hands with the man, they walk towards the door, a pip in his step as they went along.

[justmeinatree]

01 - Made Of Something New : Intro

Summary : you meet niall in your hotel bar. and there’s an intense connection.

Word Count : 2.4k

A/N : hey all ! this is the intro chapter to a 10 part fic. this story has been tucked away in my notes for over a year, it’s def time to share ! there are no trigger warnings in this part, but before getting too invested, there are general fic trigger warnings over here. ✌️

GIF : @horansqueen

May 9th - Vancouver, Canada

you look at the clock in your hotel room for the 6th time in the last half hour. you were bored. 

it was always a fairly good time when your work sent you off to different places. you got to explore some of the biggest cities around the world, in exchange for a few meetings here and there. it was worth it really, especially since you loved travelling. with your job, you were typically sent off somewhere different once or twice a month.

but you were about to go absolutely insane if you had to look at those 4 god awful pink walls, green carpet and dark brown curtains for much longer. it was lonely at times, travelling for work, as you had some colleagues that joined, but you weren’t always all that close to them. 

it was your last night in vancouver, not much to do, except stare at a clock and some walls apparently. vancouver was a regular stop for your work, coming to the city a few times a year. you had done the touristy things, even found a few underground gems, none of which seemed to fit the mood you were in tonight. as you weighed out your options, you decided to put some clothes on and make your way down to the hotel bar. if anything, you could have some quality time to yourself, watching the people around you. it always intrigued you to look at others go about their lives, wondering what their story was. 

you slipped on a simple grey tshirt dress that came down mid thigh, hugged your skin, showed off a bit of cleavage and came up to some thin straps over your shoulders. you made your way down, walked up to the lady at the bar, ordering your usual gin and tonic and going to find an empty table.

you examined the bar carefully. it was nice, a little cozy pub feel with an older man playing piano in the back corner. the walls were a deep purple, the carpet was bright red, all furniture was a brown wood. it felt like the vibe shouldn’t work but it did and you found yourself relaxing into your chair, watching people go about around you. you loved watching people be. just seeing how everyone was sort of the same but so so different. it was interesting to you. 

as your eyes scanned the room, they fell on a table of guys, around your age, being a little louder than everyone else in the room. upon seeing the amount of empties on their table, you weren’t surprised. they were tucked away in the far corner of the bar, a rambunctious bunch, but not causing any issues. as they all started laughing loudly, one of them stood out from the rest. a big boisterous laugh that despite yourself, couldn’t keep the smile from curling your lips up at the corners.

you didn’t know what the joke was, but you wanted whoever said it to say it again and again, in hopes of hearing that beautiful laugh over and over. someone, somewhere heard your silent wish as the man the laugh belonged to, stood up, laughing again, as he made his way to the bar to get more drinks for the table.

and that’s when you recognized him. you knew who he was, knew his music. didn’t know much about him but you always had quite the crush on him. could he be more beautiful in person ? you weren’t sure, but you were absolutely going to find out. 

you wait for him to go back to his table, drinks lining a tray in his hand, before heading to the bar yourself. you order 2 tequila shots, quickly downing those as you know you’ll need the courage. you get another gin and tonic to sip on as you contemplate how to go about this. you definitely didn’t want to waltz up to a table full of drunk guys, that’s for fucking sure.

you decide to flag down the lady at the bar again, pointing towards his table. “the irish one,” you hum. “his next order, can you put that on my tab ?” you smile politely. 

she smiles back, nodding “just a heads up, they’ve been spending quite a bit at that table.”

“yeah, i figured. it’s fine. no worries !” you smile back, shaking your head to yourself in disbelief that you’re actually going about this, as you take your drink and head back to your table.

the tv on the wall catches your attention for a little while, a natural disaster story keeping your eyes glued to the screen.

you never saw him approaching, feeling a presence by your side, making you turn your attention away from the tv. he has a guiness in one hand, his other hand resting against the back of the chair next to you, fingers tapping on the wood. “s’this seat taken ?” he hums.

your eyes scan up from his fingers, over his arm and neck, to his face as he speaks, and yes, yes he is more beautiful up close. 

“no, it’s not. make yourself comfortable,” you offer him a warm smile. “i’m y/n”.

“niall” he smiles, extending his hand for you to shake once he’s seated. “thanks for the drink, you really didn’t have to do that.” he chuckles lightly, “although i can’t say i’m complaining”.

you giggle softly, shrugging, “figured there was no better way to get a good looking irish man’s attention than paying for his alcohol.”

niall laughs loudly, making you laugh as well. “you’ve got a point there, love,” he chuckles, his hand giving yours a little squeeze. you were absolutely fucked already and you knew it. his skin was so warm, his hand engulfing yours as it squeezed.

“you don’t have to keep me company,” you smile sheepishly, secretly hoping for him to stay. “seemed to be having a good time with your friends over there. wouldn’t want you to miss out on any of the laughs.”

“i see them all the time,” niall shakes his head. “would rather be looking at your pretty face anyway.”

you blush and giggle at his comment, biting your lip, “smooth one aren’t ya ?”

niall laughs again, his hand running through his hair, a light blush on his cheeks, “i try. but it usually doesn’t work this well.”

“maybe the irish charm is extra strong tonight,” you smile at him, teasingly, before shaking your head. “you’re trouble aren’t you ?”

“what makes you say that ?” niall chuckles, hand on his chest. “i’m an absolute sweet heart. wouldn’t hurt a fly. no trouble at all,” he adds as innocently as he can muster up.

“i don’t believe that for a second,” you giggle at him. “i think trouble has a way of following you around.”

niall shrugs, biting his lip, knowing he’s gotten himself in loads of trouble time and time again, but for some reason not wanting to admit to it. not to you anyway. “is a bit of trouble a bad thing ?” he hums.

“never said it was,” you smirk cheekily at him.

“i think you’re the one that’s trouble,” he hums. he’s never met someone he’s been so comfortable with, so quickly, in a long time. since being thrown into celebrity status over a decade ago, he’s had his guard up with everyone he meets. never know who’s cozying up to him for money, or fame, or even just some juicy gossip. but for some reason, all of that fades with you. he’s scared to no end, but he can’t seem to stop himself from chatting you up. loving the comfort you exude, he stays with you, relaxing into the welcomed feeling he can’t remember sensing in a long time. especially with a stranger at a hotel bar.

you keep up the small talk, finding out that he’s staying at the hotel for the one night, making his way quickly through vancouver for some press for the new album. you explain to him that it’s your last night in town, happy to be heading home tomorrow, but also excited for your next work trip, it was to be your first time in the uk. 

“first time in the uk ?,” niall asks excitedly, making you nod. “there’s so many places you have to check out !” he adds animatedly listing off an impressive amount of restaurants, bars and fun touristy spots.

“think i’ll need to start writing these down,” you chuckle at his enthusiasm. “or get myself a real good tour guide,” you add suggestively. praying to whatever god may be listening that he’ll take the bait.

niall smiles, a small laugh escaping his lips, oh so wishing he could see you again. he knows he shouldn’t, and honestly quite probably can’t. “i know what you’re trying to do. want me to give my amazing tour guiding skills for free,” he smiles, hoping a little banter may help ease the seriousness. 

“we need refills,” niall hums, changing the subject, nodding his head towards your empty cup. “these ones are on me, what are you drinking, love ?” he asks as he stands up, his hand smoothing over your shoulder as he asks. he needed the distraction, needed some time away, some time to breathe and clear his head. god, what were you doing to him? and why was he feeling this way?

while he’s on his way to the bar, you notice him taking a deep breath, hand running through his hair. you wondered what was going through his mind as he ordered the drinks. 

niall was battling himself the entire time he was waiting on the drinks. he couldn’t believe the attraction he was feeling towards you. it was like a pull he couldn’t quite explain. his body, his mind, were just screaming at him. the thought of his life back home keeps popping into his mind. those thoughts quickly replaced by the tingling sensation in his fingertips. he had never felt skin as soft as yours, that he was sure about. he was truly fucked. and he was beginning to worry that you were right. that trouble definitely had a way of finding him. the lust he felt towards you was strong, but even more than that, the trust, the safety. there was something about you, he couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he didn’t want to leave your side. you calmed him with a simple conversation, like no one else ever could.

the few moments apart from him, helped you collect your thoughts as well. he was gorgeous, and it was obvious that hollywood had shaped him. he stole the attention in the room. whether you knew who he was or not, you knew he was somebody. he exuded confidence in a way you’ve never seen before. you felt your tummy flip as you watched him walk back. you were absolutely fucked, and you knew it. maybe having drinks with your celebrity crush wasn’t the best idea after all.

you notice that he’s got his fingers wrapped around his guiness, your gin and tonic, and two shot glasses. as he puts the drinks down on the table and his fingers unwrap themselves from the glassware, you notice how long his fingers are. you couldn’t help but think of what they could do to you. heat pooling between your thighs as you notice the little droplets of water on his fingertips from the condensation on the glass.

without really realizing, your hand reaches out for his, your fingertips lightly dancing over his palm and the length of his fingers. niall’s breath catches in his throat as he watches you, a spark of electricity running through his hand.

you quickly shake your thoughts out of your head, removing your hand from his, really taking notice in the shot glasses on the table, as well as your drinks, for the first time. you look up at him with a questioning glance, “shots ?”

“i figured a shot would be fun,” he chuckles, shrugging his shoulders, sitting back down, truthfully just needing something a little stronger. “the lady at the bar said you seemed to like tequila.”

you giggle, nodding, “may have had a couple shots before having her put your drinks on my tab,” you admit shyly, your cheeks turning a light pink at your confession.

niall looks at you, one eyebrow raised, “why’s that ?”

you blush a bit under his stare, “needed a little liquid courage before buying drinks for someone as gorgeous as you.”

he laughs loudly, hiding his face in his face in his hand. and you’re not having it for one second. you wrap your hand around his wrist, pulling his hand away from his face. niall’s blushing hard, making you smile sweetly at him. your voice barely louder than a whisper as your eyes scan over his face, “you really are beautiful.”

“stop,” niall murmurs, his breath hitching, a pained look on his face. “you’re absolutely killing me.”

your hand reaches out for his neck, fingertips playing with the soft whispy hairs, absolutely dying to have his lips pressed against yours. you need to know how he tastes, how his mouth feels against yours. but his hand is incredibly quick to lightly grip your wrist as he pulls your hand away from his body, a heavy look taking over his features. he cant risk getting caught with you. can’t risk what kind of story he’d be waking up to. all the texts blowing up his phone.

“did i do something wrong ?” you ask him, giving his knee a squeeze as he shakes his head, no.

“fuck, i want you so bad,” he mumbles, his head tipped back, eyes closed, battling with himself.

as he looks back at you, eyes locking with yours, the words start spilling out of his mouth, “i don’t think i’ve ever wanted anyone this badly in my entire life, if i’m being totally honest. my heart is beating out of my chest in the best and worst way possible all at once. why am i even telling you that ?” he mumbles the last part under his breath. “fuck, fuck, i really should be going back to the lads, i think. i - you should know that, i have a girlfriend back home.”

Part 2

……

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[sydsaint]

Softie! Sikoa 😌

*Gif Credit to @beingtheelite​ *

Summary: The bloodline confront Solo about being distracted at work by something. Solo is conflicted about keeping his secret girl a secret from his family.

"You're distracted." Roman confronts his young cousin with a stern look. "And this isn't the first time it's happened, Solo." He adds his arms crossed across his chest.

Jimmy and Jey both nod, agreeing with their Tribal Chief. "Rom is right man. This ain't like you at all little bro." Jey shakes his head. "So you wanna tell us what's going on with you?"

Solo remains silent, his face set in stone like it usually is. He doesn't dare give up his secret. Not if it means that Roman and his brothers might try to get involved. Try and keep him from you.

"It's nothing, man." Solo finally speaks up, clearly in denial about something. "I'm all good." He insists, rolling his shoulders with a sneer.

Jimmy and Jey share a glance, knowing that their little brother is lying to them. Roman stares Solo down in an attempt to get him to break, but Sikoa remains stoic in his cousin's presence.

"You are going to tell me what's wrong." Roman stares at Sikoa. "Sooner or later." He huffs and turns to Jimmy and Jey. "Keep an eye on him out there."

The twin's nod and Roman turns back into the locker room where Paul is waiting for him. The twins and Solo head out to the ring for their match against the Brawling Brutes with Sami in tow.

Sami falls into step with Solo at the back of the group and offers Sikoa an understanding smile.

"It's a girl, yeah?" Sami asks Sikoa in a hushed tone. Solo doesn't reply but Zayn notices a slight change in his eyes. "Yeah, I'm right aren't I?" He chuckles. "It's alright man, you're secret is safe with me."

Solo lets his guard down for a split second and nods at Sami. "Thanks, man." He thanks Zayn for not snitching on him Roman or his brothers.

Sami matches Sikoa's nods and everyone files out to the ring. The Brawling Brutes come down the ramp next with their newest member accompanying them. Butch's cousin aka you.

You head down to the ring between Ridge and Butch, giggling at the way Holland keeps a hold of your wryly cousin. "Where do you guys want me?" You ask Sheamus as you all approach the ring.

"Just keep around the apron and do what you can," Sheamus explains and hops up onto the apron to get in the ring.

You nod and come to a stop under the corner of the apron. Ridge and Butch both hop up with Sheamus and you cheer them on from the floor.

Once the match has started getting heated you glance over to the other side of the ring. Solo stands on the floor talking with Sami while Jey is on the apron and Jimmy is in the ring with Butch.

Your intense staring earns a glance your way from Sami. He tilts his head at you and you are quick to look away. The last thing that you want is for Zayn to find out that you've been staring at Sikoa.

"That's weird." Sami furrows his brows and turns back to Sikoa after he catches you staring. "Butch's cousin has been staring at me practically this whole match." He comments.

Sikoa can't help but glance your way briefly, a hint of a smile flashing in the corner of his mouth. "Has she?" He asks Zayn with amusement in his tone.

"Yeah," Sami confirms but takes notice of Sikoa's tone. "I...wait a minute." All the pieces click together in Zayn's mind. "Y/N? That's your mystery girl?"

"Quiet!" Solo hushes Sami with an urgent glare. "We're keeping it on the down-low, remember?" He reminds Zayn.

"Right." Sami quiets down and glances across the ring again. "Man, how did that happen?" He asks Sikoa.

Solo shrugs, recalling the night that he met you by chance in a bar. "I was getting a drink at this local place a few weeks ago and she was there." He explains briefly. "She was minding her own business when these drunk dickheads started fucking with her."

"And what? You helped her out?" Sami cuts in. "Okay. But that doesn't explain why she's got you so distracted from work." He adds.

"I don't know man." Solo sighs. "I saw her looking at me with those big doe eyes, pleading for help." He scratches the back of his neck. "I don't know what it is, man. But I can't seem to leave her alone. And believe me, I've tried. But then she gives me that look and I just can't."

Sami nods, seeing the conflict on Sikoa's face. He pats Solo on the arm with an assuring smile. "Hey, I get it, man." He assures Sikoa. "She's a pretty girl that needed your help. You were just being a gentleman is all. But it just so happens that you really like her."

"Yeah." Solo nods. "Thanks for listening, man." He thanks Zayn and a weight is lifted from the back of his mind.

The action in the ring boils down to an all-out brawl between teams. You run to help Butch from getting pummeled by Jey, but then the twin sets his sights on you.

"Now hold on." You put your hands up with a nervous chuckle. "Let's not do anything brash now, Jey."

Jey advances on you, backing you into the barricade. You desperately glance around for a means of escape and happen to lock eyes with Solo as he comes around the corner. Jey stalks up to you but Solo comes around and stops him before he gets too close.

"I've got it." He nods at Jey to go and help Jimmy and Sami with Butch and Ridge.

Jey nods and walks off, trusting Solo to handle the job. "Thank you." You thank Sikoa as Jey walks off. "So, this is kind of awkward." You joke.

"It ain't funny." Solo replies firmly.

"I-I know." You nod, gaze wandering to the floor sheepishly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get you in trouble with your brothers and cousin." You apologize to him.

You revert your gaze back to Solo's face and can see the conflict in his eyes.

'Damnit.' Sikoa thinks to himself. 'Why does she have to look at me like that?' He hates the soft expression on your face as you apologize to him. How can he stay mad at you when you're pleading with him not to be angry with just your eyes?

"Don't apologize." Sikoa sighs and steps towards you. "I'm a grown-ass man. And if I want you with me then that's what imma do." He insists and grabs your arm.

"Really?" You reply as Sikoa pulls you into his side. "Are you sure?"

Solo nods and begins walking towards the ramp with you at his side. "Positive, baby girl." He insists. "Roman and my bros can complain all they want. But you're mine."

You smile to yourself as you walk up the ramp with Sikoa. You know that you are in for one hell of a lecture from Butch tomorrow. But it'll definitely be worth it.

[dangertoozmanykids101]

Mistaken: An Arranged Marriage Bratva Romance, by Arianna Fraser (aka @caffiend-queen )

Look what arrived last night!!! Written by our very own brilliant @caffiend-queen !!

I love the cover my dear. But of course we all know that our main anti-hero / dastardly villain / antagonistic Adonis REALLY looks like, don't we y'all.

The REAL Maksim Morozov

I continue to ramble and swoon over this book and its characters after the break below. I've chosen gifs to fit my mental picture and a theme song I've assigned to @caffiend-queen 's book.

Walking with his bodyguard.

Always on the phone.

Weight of society's underbelly rests on his shoulders. Wide wide broad muscular shoulders that block out the sun when he towers over his beautiful Ella Givens, our brilliant protagonist and heroine in this story.

And the Real Yuri Morozov - Maksim's second hand man and cheeky loyal brother.

Don't forget, he's Maksim's right hand man. So dangerous!! *Gulp.

He's the personable friendly brother. He's the lucky one who doesn't have to strike fear in everyone ALL THE TIME. He's allowed to smile and laugh sometimes. OMG I WANT TO FUCK THE BROTHER! I'm Team Yuri all the way!! Am I allowed to call out a Team Yuri?

Damn. It would have been so much easier to pick out the right image if the characters were simple and two dimensional. RIGHT?

But like all of @caffiend-queen 's characters - these two men - two terrifying, beautiful, brave, ruthless, loyal, sexy, kinky, fucked up, violent, infuriating men have a lifetime of experiences that add up to who they are today. There are so many moods, so many hats, so many roles they play with every different character, who they are to them, how they act with them. How much they reveal and when. When do they let their guard down versus when they don't. In the end, the men are just living roles they were dealt within the world they were born into. Trying to survive, thrive even, and take care of their family.

OMG.... The ACTION SCENES!! This is so intense I've been on the edge of my seat!

Y'all gotta read this!!!

Check in with @caffiend-queen for info. It hit the 'bookshelves' just this month. Both e-book and the hard copy. I love it!

One morning I heard the PERFECT theme song for the chapters I'd been reading the night before. The entire drive to school and back I had to play it multiple times. (And it's now my son's favorite song, so he has been requesting it specifically each car ride for a couple weeks. It goes to say that the whole family can sing it word for word by this point.)

I'm so excited to have all y'all listen to it and tell me if you can see the intense action scenes from the book play out in your mind like they do in mine when this song plays. Please let me know what you think??

Give And Take, by Poor Man's Poison.

Someday I'm gonna show up on your doorstep, @caffiend-queen , with a huge box of all your books I've collected over the years for you to sign for me. :-) I can't wait!

Spread the word and boost this signal. REBLOG PLEASE. Support and promote our sister. All her profits go to the local Crisis Nursery in her city. Such a wonderful way to support them and help families in crisis. Again check in with @caffiend-queen for the exact details.

@nildespirandum @emeraldrosequartz @ladyoftheteaandblood @alexakeyloveloki @tilltheendwilliwrite @jtargaryen18 @imanuglywombat @myoxisbroken @lokisgoodgirl @devikafernando @threeminutesoflife @talklokitome @latent-thoughts @mooncat163 @nonsensicalobsessions @angelriverwrites @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay @frostbitten-written @just-the-hiddles @redfoxwritesstuff @imnotrevealingmyname @shiningloki @grufflepuff-writes-stuff @so-easy-to-love-me @wolfsmom1 @what-is-your-plan-today

[bowieandqueen11]

Marc Spector Dating A Plus!Size Reader Would Include...

Request: hi !!! your plus sized reader and steven story made me tear up it's so cute and perfect :(( do you think you'll do one for marc as well? if not that's okay too :)

That’s so kind of you, thank you!! :) Also I’m afraid I’ve never read any Moon Knight comics, so all my knowledge of Marc has come from the first five episodes of the show!

Warning, mentions of childhood abuse and slightly NSFW!

(I do not own Moon Knight or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @the-maidofmischief.)

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

GOT to start this off by saying just look at him. Absolute baby. Daddy (thank u mr isaac). Mess of a man. Gosh I love him so much. I know we all like to say that Steven is Mr. Puppy Dog Eyes, but this mf right here is the REAL Mr. Heart eyes. The way he looks at you is just ridiculous; his eyes are so intense, his gaze so particular as they focus in only on you, it’s akin to feeling ashes of fire fall like fresh snow, overwhelmingly cool and destructive at the same time. He’s so unused to being allowed anything of this nature, of being allowed so close to divinity that just the look he reserves for you alone is enough to melt a hole through the floor.

I feel like the two of you would have first met as children - perhaps a next door neighbour who used to run round after school and go on adventures with Dr. Grant and Randall around the suburbs of Chicago. Marc would always stick tight next to you as you wandered down the winding lanes and into the tree lines. He would be smiling over at his brother as he talked about the newest excavation they were about to embark on, whilst simultaneously nudging into your shoulder with his own and pretending his cheeks weren’t becoming flushed every time you knocked him back.

After Randall... well, you were the only friend Marc had left. The only person in his life that he could rely on, and the only thing keeping the last scraps of what should have been his light-hearted childhood within him. When his mother used to finally give up on blaming him and recede back into her bedroom with her whiskey to keep her company, Marc used to heave himself off the floor and limp straight for his windowsill. There, he would pick up the slightly smashed torch he used to give three lit blasts into your window, letting you know it was okay to climb down and make your way up through his own. Clambering in, he would collapse down onto the floor in a heap, drawing his knees up around his chest and crying into their caps. You would spend the rest of the night on the floor, hugging him into your side and rocking him back and forth as you tried to will away some of his pain, waiting for the stinging to stop. Once he would finally look desperately up at you, and allow you to wipe away the remaining tears on his cheeks with the side of your thumbs, the two of you would sit side by side. Cross legged on the floor, you would tip out his colouring pencils and draw out scenes of how you imagined your future would be: somewhere where it never rained, a pet rabbit or fish, the two of you living together inside a giant library, or somewhere secret and hidden away like a tomb. He’d stash them under his pillow when it was finally time for you to go, and every night before he fell asleep he’d add to it. Another two stick figures, holding hands in front of a shimmering reed field, safe and content.

You were also there during all his birthdays!! Sitting round the Spector’s dining room tables with a tilted party hat on, holding up the cake for a crestfallen looking Marc as he tried his hardest to pretend to have a good time and blow out the candles. When you shoved a piece of cake right into his face though - the beaming smile he gave you as he scooped up some icing and retaliated was enough to even let his father breathe a sigh of relief, if only for a moment. Cue Mrs. Spector entering, and Marc running away with you right on his heels. When you finally manage to catch up with him, you manage to pull the present you had wrapped for him out of your pocket and shove it into his hands. Inside is a little locket clasped onto a gold chain, inside a drawing of the two of you in each empty space that you had done. He gives you a hug so tight you can feel the air rush out and the blood rise to your forehead, but it makes it all worth it to know that Marc has never taken that chain off over the years. Not even for a second. Not even when he left, and he was so heartbroken it felt cruel to wear a reminder of what his heart could have been around his neck. 

Apart from his father, you made his childhood that little touch more bearable, which is why he wasn’t shocked to find his feet had led him to your door once he came back from the marines. That fateful night, just a few hours after he found out that his mother had passed away, when Marc Spector had no idea what to do. He felt terrible for walking out on you all those years ago, and yet his feet were so sure of themselves as they marched up onto your steps and rang the doorbell. He was ready to bolt when you opened it, standing there like a petrified little rabbit afraid it was about to be mauled when you peered out and saw wretched, tired, desolate Marc Spector standing in your doorway for once. So, you did the only thing you could think of. You pulled him tight into your arms, not noticing how he sobbed a wretched, soul-crushing moan as soon as your fingers touched his jacket. He just wept into your neck, clawing onto the curve of your back with tender talons as he promised over and over that he would never let go of you again. 

Yep and now I’ve actually made myself cry way to go Cee.

You get whisked away a lot with Marc... or, well, more like Khonsu whisks you and Marc away to wherever he commands him to go a lot. But that doesn’t mean the two of you don’t take every opportunity - every second Marc deems the Universe has given him of borrowed time to enjoy his life basked in your honey-gold luminance. When he gets a moment away from the Egyptian God, he likes to take you out to see the cities you’ve flown off to. This usually means boat rides along canals and reedy rivers, where he tries to let his fears of ever hurting you go and just hold you tight in his arms. Or, walking through star-lit, bustling city markets late at night, stone-cobbled streets laden with sellers tempting you with a range of sweet-smelling goods. Although he’s still too tense to take the baseball cap away from his eyes, the grip he has on your hand lets you know that all he wants at that moment is to be in your company.

My man is BIG on arm worship. Like, idk, he just feels like his hands have done such horrible things during his grief-stricken life? Every time he looks down at them, he just sees them inked marked with splattered drops of blood, so he takes his mind off it for even a second by noticing every mark and crease on yours instead. It drives him crazy - kissing up your upper arms while tenderly holding out your hand in the cool breeze when you’re both back on the motel bed. The feeling of you wrapping them tight around his neck as his body hovers over your chest, feeling safe and cocooned and normal in the arms of the person he adores more than all of life.

I mean, sometimes it’s not easy dating Marc Spector - too often to count, you’ll wake up to find him stumbling back to your apartment at day break caked in dried blood, sweat, and mud flecks rising up to the moon. Even though his body is screaming with the pain of numerous joints popped out of place, he doesn’t care. He just wants to be in your embrace. So be ready for dirtied sheets as he collapses down onto your legs and buries his head into your thick thighs. He just sleepily apologises over and over as he takes his hand within yours and clasps it to his heart, before falling fast asleep. Sometimes, it both terrifies and exhilarates you to know how whole heartedly he trusts you - how willing he is to lay himself bare and be so vulnerable around you. That’s when you realise just how deep and true his love must be.

Marc is very, very protective of you. If he’s wearing his Moon Knight costume, man is lifting you up from the scene and just straight up Scooby Doo-style running away from the bad guys. Even when the two of you are linked arms, ambling round the streets of Illinois to find a decent coffee shop to sit at for the afternoon, at the first sign of trouble boi is tugging you behind his back and using his whole body to shield you. Sometimes this results in him pulling away, or not purposefully shutting you out. He’s just terrified of the idea that Khonsu could turn and make you his avatar instead at any second, and it would be all his fault. Whenever he feels that way, with shaking fingers he opens the locket again and wills away the tears blinking at the creases of his crumpled eyes, and then he knows it will be alright. Because, with all the tenderness bubbling up from his grief-bound heart, he knows he would do everything possible to never have to lose you. Even if it meant losing himself in the process. He would give himself up in a heartbeat.

So, he wraps his jacket around your shoulders in apology, tucking you into his warmth before guiding you back home with a fond smile. His strong biceps around your shoulders are dominated only by the snug smell that radiates off his clothes: whiskey, hints of coffee, and a dash of caramel.

He’s not a massive fan of PDA in public, just because any shows of affection or kindness seem unnatural and foreign to him. But bless his heart, he does try his best for you. Usually this just ends up him letting you hold your hands on top of his shaking ones, the tremors in his palm so massive that you keep having to stroke his fingers on your lap to get him to relax down and slow his breathing again.

He’s not someone who lies in, or sleeps heavily. But BRO if you let him lie down between your legs, so he’s tucked up between your thighs like a snug little bug he can sleep NO problem. Pls just stroke back those stubborn strands of hair that like to fall into curls around his forehead. He’ll cuddle down, letting his eyes shut in bliss as he rests his hands against your stomach, dropping off into a sound sleep in a millisecond flat. Be ready to stay like that all night, though. Because apart from feeling heavy, hairy legs land and tangle over your own around midnight, my man will not move an inch. His snores do tickle though, especially when he has some light stubble around his cheeks.

He’s biggggg on neck kisses. As we all know, he’s not the best at opening up and just spending time in your company massively talking. So, when the two of you are just chilling on the sofa at home after a long day, watching some terrible 80s action movie he picked, his love language to let you know just how much he’s glad you’re here is through kisses. He’ll rise up from where he’s slouched against your side, saddling up to you and grinning deviously. You don’t have any time to question it before his plump lips are open against the skin of your neck - soft and warm enough to make you whimper, but sucking enough to leave you breathless. He continues pressing those licking, trailing kisses up the tendons of your neck until he’s sure he’s got you a flustered, whining mess underneath him.

He tries to ask Steven for advice on how to be all romantic, especially when he comes home after disappearing for a few weeks in tow of Khonsu. He stands, straggled, at the door. In his hand is a valentine-eque card, full of bumpy lines and uneven colouring that he tried to make on the turbulent flight home. In the other hand is a bouquet of very squashed, very sat on looking wilted flowers - the only thing covering the apologetic grimace on his face.

He knows how it feels to be insecure, and to feel like you’re life isn’t worth anything. So, if for even a SECOND he sees you looking down, or disappointed, or upset about ANYTHING Marc notices straight away and does his best to distract you. He cups your cheek, raising your chin so you’re looking at him, and he’s sure you can see every move of his lips as he rambles out all the ways you’re perfection in his eyes. You’re so close though, you can feel his heart ramming against his chest, heart overflowing, gushing out of his mouth like tides on the Nile. Eventually, the look he gives you - that smouldering gaze of ash and rage and lust and fire is too overwhelming, you’re too irresistible to him, and the two of you end up collapsed in a heap on the floor making out.

He tries to be all sweet the next morning by bringing you breakfast in bed, but he ends up tripping over the sandbags Steven left by the window and spills the freshly squeezed orange juice all over your lap. *Cue Marc leading you to the shower and getting down on his knees so he can lather every inch of your skin from the feet up with loving hands and soapy suds to make sure he gets it all off.*

He gets quite shy, and sometimes standoffish if he gets caught doing anything too cutesy and lovey-dovey, though. He still has that flight or fight response in him, that need to keep quite and hidden and not do anything too brazen so he doesn’t get in trouble. So you try not to open your eyes at night and give away the fact he’s woken you up when you can feel his pointer finger trace up the side of your stomach, and up to your neck. His mouth is hanging slightly open in wonder, little ‘wows’ still spilling out of his mouth as he curls up against you and giggles like Steven at the disbelief that the dreams he used to spend every fitful childhood night dreaming about have actually come true.

Speaking of, he tacks up some of the drawings by the fish tank. You catch him some mornings sipping his mug of coffee and standing up looking at them, a proud smile on his face.

In comparison to Steven, I feel like Marc would rather drive himself than take public transport. Be ready for road trips where his hand is resting on your thigh, squeezing it from time to time as if to check you’re really still there. When you get out onto the long stretches of highway, he sticks his head out of the window like a car-sick puppy as he yells happily into the air, finally feeling free for once in his life. 

And it’s all thanks to you.

[coralstories]

Ghosts

gn Witch!Reader (x Aragorn if you squint) based on this post by @tolkien-fantasy (which I reblogged previously as @angellcora by the way)

Gif via https://heartsofbeskar.tumblr.com/post/671105787393867776/lord-of-the-rings-the-fellowship-of-the-ring

They found me studying the foliage near my camp. Gandalf had left me there the night before, promising to come back after the big important meeting to let me know if I could stay in Rivendell.

Rivendell. My mind still hadn’t fully processed that I was actually in Rivendell, one of the last elf houses. I had only heard about the place in stories. Never had I suspected it was real. Either that, or I was crazy.

Thus, the leaves.

Someone cleared their throat. I dropped my pencil and stood quickly, eager to see what news Gandalf brought. When I turned, I found not only the grey wizard, but two men, an elf, a dwarf, and four halflings. They all stared at me intensely, half with raised eyebrows and half with sterner expressions.

“Good, you survived the night,” Gandalf said to me. He strode forward and lowered his voice. “Elrond has granted permission for you to reside in one of his rooms in the city.”

My elation quickly turned to hesitation as I saw the horses and packs surrounding the group, as well as the arms and armor they wore. I looked up at Gandalf, brow furrowed.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“We are going on a quest. It is of the utmost importance, but not to worry; you shall be safe in Rivendell.”

The others shifted uneasily at his words. The little one with dark brown hair and blue eyes grew paler still, but his jaw was still clenched tight.

“But you promised to teach me,” I hissed. “And how am I supposed to adjust without anyone but elves around? No, I’m going to come with you.”

Gandalf raised an eyebrow and looked down his nose at me, but I could have sworn his eyes sparkled for just a moment.

“Come with us? No, you will do no such thing. You are a human out of your own time and space, and it is best that you stay put. The fate of this quest is too important to be jeopardized by the presence of an innocent, confused wanderer from the race of Man.”

I bristled at his words. The sky, already cloudy, grew darker. He lips said “innocent”, but his tone said “naïve”.

“We can sit here and argue about it all day,” I said. “Or we can get a move on. If this quest is as important as you say, we shouldn’t dawdle.”

I grabbed my hastily made pack from the ground and kicked dirt over the coals of last night’s fire. I heard the tall dark haired man speaking to Gandalf.

“Let them come,” he said quietly. “Everyone deserves a chance to prove their worth.”

“They do not even know to what cause they are pledging their help,” Gandalf said.

Whispers suddenly whirled through the air. They snaked around the dark haired, blue eyed halfling, rising in fervor and volume.

“An aon,” they said.

I wasn’t sure what they were referring to, but the ghosts of the past never lied. They had no reason to. I nodded in his direction.

“It’s him,” I said. “He is the reason for the quest.”

His chubby blonde friend sidled closer to him protectively. The elf and dwarf stepped forward, each glancing at the man who had spoken in my defense. I ignored all of them, watching Gandalf’s expression as a smile slowly split across his face until he was laughing.

“Very well,” he said. “Join us.”

So saying, he turned around and got back on his horse. I sighed and stomped over to the extra horse I just realized had been waiting behind Gandalf’s.

“That was a test, wasn’t it?” I grumbled.

“Of course,” Gandalf said. “One who lacks conviction should not embark on a journey such as this.”

“What exactly is this journey? Where are we going?”

“I thought you knew why we set out,” the dark haired man asked.

“This is Aragorn, son of Arathorn.” Gandalf introduced us.

“To answer your question, I know why, not what,” I said, once the introductions were finished. “The spirits don’t always disclose everything to me.”

“Spirits? Are you a wizard?”

I glanced at Gandalf. I shook my head.

“I am a witch. I deal mostly with plant medicines and herbs.”

“And the souls of the dead,” Aragorn said, his voice tilting up in a slight question.

I inclined my head towards him. “And the souls of the dead. It is the ability that led me to the path I am on now.”

“And that path led you here?”

“Apparently,” I said with a wry smile.

“Whatever your history, I think we will be glad to have you with us by the end.”

The smile he gave me was so warm and inviting, I knew in that instant it was the one smile I wanted to see for the rest of my days.

[cjsinkythoughts]

The Shield

Paring: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 5595

Warnings: !FATWS SPOILERS!, Cursing, John Walker, Emotions, Character Death, Mentions of Blood, I know people had a hard time with that last scene so please take caution because it is in this part! GIF at end is the ending scene, so be careful when you get towards the bottom! I feel like I’m forgetting some, so just know this one’s a bit more than the others.

A/N: Here it is, folks! The Part we’ve all been waiting for! It’s the longest one I’ve written so far but so much happened and I couldn’t find a better spot to end it than where the episode ended. Thank you all for being patient with me today. I know I didn’t get this out as quickly as I would’ve the past few weeks, but you guys are so awesome! Seriously! I love that you understand I do have a life and work comes first! Thank you, thank you!

This Part is a doozy, guys, and…I’m sorry? But not really. I’m SUPER excited to see where this is gonna go, especially considering Episode 5 is supposed to be the real tear jerker. I can’t believe there’s only two more episodes! I’ve grown so attached to these characters just in the past month! I’m so glad I’m able to share some of my thoughts and feelings with you guys, too! You’re honestly the best!

I’ll be doing more One Shots this week, so look for those on the Masterlist. I’m still taking requests for them, so if there’s anything you want explored about the reader and her relationships that you don’t think will be explored in this Series, just ask and I’ll try to add it to the One Shot list.

As always, this isn’t beta’d so please excuse any mistakes! Thank you for reading, be kind to yourself and others, enjoy this part and stay tuned!

FATWS Masterlist

cjsinkythoughts Masterlist

(I couldn’t decide on which GIF to use because there are so many good ones! Thank you Tumblr Creators!)

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

“Doll…hey. Doll. C’mon, sweetheart. We gotta get moving.”

You cracked your eyes open begrudgingly, squinting up to see Bucky’s amused grin, head tilted and eyes soft. “Huh?”

He chuckled as you rubbed your eyes, confusion lifting an eyebrow. “The funeral. Zemo said we’ve gotta go if we’re gonna make it in time.”

“Wait, but…huh?”

Sniggering again at your reaction, he held up your phone. “You passed out in the middle of a chapter, sleepyhead.” He teased lightly, grabbing your hand and gently pulling you to sit upright. “It’s almost been an hour.”

You huffed tiredly, stretching and placing your feet on the floor, taking back the phone he held out to you. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“You haven’t been sleeping well.” He stated, like it should’ve been obvious. “How’s your arm feeling?”

“Better than earlier. It’s just sore. That’s all.”

He studied your features for any hint of a lie. Not finding one, he nodded, holding out his hand. “Okay. But tell me if it starts bothering you.”

You placed your hand in his, marveling for a split second at how big his hands were compared to yours - something you noticed every time but still it never ceased to astound you. He tugged you up, and you looked up to meet his worried eyes, remembering his question.

“I will, Buck. Promise.”

He nodded, tilting his head towards the door. “C’mon, cuddle bug. We don’t wanna miss this.”

A groan passed your lips, but you nodded and followed Bucky out into the main room, where Sam chuckled at you from his spot at the table. “Sleeping beauty has finally awoken.”

You flipped Sam off groggily. “Are we going or not?”

“Do you wanna wake up s’more first?”

“No.” You answered the one armed brunette. “I’ll just splash some water on my face or something. I’ll be fine by the time we get there. Where’s-”

“Looking for me?”

Zemo strolled out, now dressed in that coat of his, that smug smirk on his lips. You scowled. “I wish I wasn’t.”

Sam stood up, standing subconsciously between you and Zemo. “Let’s head out.”

You nodded in agreement, shooting the Baron one more glare, before following him out the door and into the city, Bucky right besides you, shoulders brushing as if you weren’t ignoring him just hours prior.

The walk was mostly silent, a few jests between Bucky and Sam plus a couple comments from Zemo here and there. You talked about strategy, with Sam bringing up the fact that he wanted to try convincing Karli to step down. Zemo didn’t look pleased with the arrangement, but both you and Bucky relented, agreeing to let Sam at least try.

It wasn’t until you were close to your destination according to Zemo that anything exciting happened.

“Karli Morgenthau is too dangerous for you guys to be pulling this shit!”

Hell. No. 

The moment the voice registered in your brain, your jaw tightened, your teeth starting to grind together as you held back the very not nice things you wanted to say. 

“Ah! How’d you find us now?” Bucky called out, tucking you into his side protectively, and a little possessively you noted, as Walker and Hoskins came down the steps, the two groups nearing each other.

You were relieved when the subject of Zemo escaping jail went by relatively quickly, Walker latching onto the fact that you were going to talk to Karli instead of focusing on the escaped fugitive in front of him.

You very nearly punched him when he ran in front of you after Sam told him the plan, making the four of you stop in your tracks, but Bucky’s arm tightened around your shoulders, holding you in place next to him.

“You’re gonna let him do this?” Walker questioned Bucky in disbelief, self righteous judgement practically dripping from your tone. “You’re gonna let your partner walk into a room with a super soldier alone?”

Bucky’s jaw ticked. “He’s dealt with worse. And he’s not my partner.”

“And you?” Walker narrowed his eyes towards you. “I expected more from you; the last original Avenger.”

You snorted, shaking your head. He obviously didn’t know how chaotic the Avengers were. What Sam was proposing? You’d seen it a million times with Steve alone. Not considering Nat, Clint, Thor, even Bruce and Tony. All of them willing to try to negotiate before running in, bullets raining and hell rising. “First, I’m not the last original. I’m technically not even an original. Second, I trust Sam with my life and I’m standing by his decision. He’s my brother. As a soldier, I would’ve thought you understood that.”

Before he could respond, Sam stepped around Bucky. You saw the reluctance in Walker’s eyes as he admitted a temporary defeat once Hoskins agreed with Sam. The fact that he was so unwilling to try to save more lives - including Karli’s - made the truth that he wasn’t, and would never, be your Captain harden deeper into your heart.

Ignoring Walker’s confusion as you followed the little girl Zemo befriended - which was weird, you’d admit, but it was getting you closer to Karli - Bucky’s arm slipped from your shoulders, hand sliding across your back and skimming down your arm to grip your hand. Even through your jacket, you felt goosebumps erupt along his fingers’ trail.

You finally came to your destination and you let out a small breath. If everything went smoothly, this mission could finally be over and you could go home and take a bath, get take out, get out a bottle of wine, watch TV, and just relax.

What a dream.

“Hey.” You stopped Sam before he could go through the entrance of where the girl said Karli was, holding his forearm. “You want me to come with you?”

He shook his head. “I think it’ll be better if I go alone.”

You nodded, letting go without any hesitance. “Okay. Be careful.”

“Always.” And despite all you’ve been through, no matter how many times he’s followed Steve’s lead in doing something stupid, you knew he meant it. You nodded again, before he disappeared around the corner.

You leaned back against the wall, Bucky once again wrapping an arm around your shoulder now that you weren’t walking - he liked having mobility on the move, hence the reason he held your hand instead - leaning besides you and pulling you against his chest.

Ten minutes. You tried looking at Bucky’s watch, which was on the wrist of the arm around you. He noticed and turned his wrist slightly, bending his elbow more, which brought you even closer to him, showing you the time.

Giving a small sigh, you nodded slightly and dropped your head back against his bicep, your hands shoving in your pockets, one of your feet coming up to rest against the wall. Bucky shifted to your other side so he could stand in front of the doors to where Karli and Sam were, pulling you against his back, arms wrapping around your shoulders tightly.

It was a long ten minutes. You kept eyeing Walker, and you couldn’t help the anger burning through you as he held the shield in his hands. That damn shield. It wasn’t his. It would never be his. And he would never understand it. The fact that the shield didn’t make Captain America. The shield isn’t what made Steve a good man. Not even the Serum did. He already was one. Steve made the shield what it was, not the other way around.

But then you remembered a conversation you had, years ago, and your eyes flitted up to Bucky’s hardened face, the brunette staring intensely at the ground.

~

You didn’t get it. You were confused. You knew how important Barnes - Bucky - was to Steve. But apparently you didn’t understand it quite yet.

You watched from the entrance of the hallway, leaning against the wall, as Bucky went under once more.

Steve stood there for a moment longer, before turning and walking towards you. “Why’d you do it?”

He raised an eyebrow at you while you turned to walk with him down the hall. “Do what?”

“Give up the shield. And don’t say it doesn’t belong to you. It does. Howard gave it to you. You’re the reason it’s…a symbol.”

He hummed. “And what exactly is it a symbol for, honey?”

You scoffed. “Uh, freedom? Justice? Resilience? The defense of the whole life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness thing?”

He stopped, facing you with a strange expression on his face, thoughtful. “I dropped it because I can’t be that anymore. Not right now. People don’t have the same beliefs they used to have. How can I stand up for freedom and let the Sokovia Accords track every person they deem a threat, just like HYDRA tried doing? How can I be a symbol for justice and let Bucky take the fall for something that he wasn’t in control of? I can’t. And until the world is ready to change…I can’t be Captain America.”

~

And suddenly, it seemed to click. Steve gave up the shield for Bucky because the world wasn’t ready to admit it was wrong. Just like Sam gave up the shield for himself and his family because the world wasn’t ready for the truth that would come with him becoming Captain America.

God…when did a metal circle become so complicated?

“What’s goin’ on in that pretty lil’ head’a yours?” His whisper in your ear startled you out of your thoughts, his nose brushing against your temple tenderly as he placed a chaste kiss on your cheek.

You looked up at him and shook your head. Of all the things Steve gave up, he never gave up Bucky. And it used to confuse you, but you understood then. His blue eyes sparkling with curiosity and slight concern, his fingers tracing patterns along your collarbone with a barely-there touch that was so light it didn’t seem to exist. You finally understood. Not just Steve’s decision, but Sam’s too. And maybe you didn’t understand it fully, and that was okay, because you weren’t them, so you never would, but you understood a little bit.

“Nothing.” You shook your head, keeping your voice down so the others couldn’t hear, the conversation being a private one, “I’m just waiting for this to be over.”

He hummed, nodding in agreement, setting his chin on your head. “Me too.”

Walker started pacing the room about half way through, getting too antsy for your liking. “Shhh.” Bucky mumbled under his breath, feeling you tense as Walker started talking. “It hasn’t been ten minutes, John. Just sit tight.”

“Don’t do that. Don’t patronize me.”

“He knows what he’s doing.” Bucky stated confidently, straightening slightly from his leaning position, arms falling from your form. The two of you exchanged glances as Walker checked the clock over on the far wall, blocked from your view.

“I’m going in.” Walker strode across the room, heading for the entrance, no doubt willing to steam roll anything - anyone - in his way.

Bucky stopped him with a hand on his chest. You glanced back and forth between the two as Walker spoke, arms crossed tightly over your chest. “Buck…we promised him ten minutes.” You reminded him, seeing his resolve crumble a bit. You could guess he was thinking of the nightmares. The people he couldn’t save. The blood he already considered on his hands.

Walker used his moment of hesitation, shoving past him roughly. “I’m not waiting.”

“John!”

“Walker!”

You followed after him, you and Bucky arguing with him and Hoskins about giving Sam more time, but it was too late.

“Karli Morgenthau! You’re under arrest!”

“Fuck.” You hissed out when you saw Sam’s panicked expression, looking at you confused. Walker was flown across the room when Karli punched him, Bucky shoving Hoskins out of the way to run after her.

“Y/N-”

You threw your hands up. “I tried, Sam! C’mon!”

You and Sam ran over to some stairs, turning corners and trying to remember what the building looked like from outside to cut her off, but you only ran into Bucky again. 

“I wish we had the layout or something.” You grumbled. “We were that close-”

“We’re not done yet, doll.” Nodding, you followed the boys out, Bucky pausing every so often to try to hear anything. “I’ve got gunshots.” At that, the three of you took off towards the sound, Bucky leading the way.

Just around the corner from where Bucky heard the gunshots, you thought you saw a couple people slip around another bend. Noticing you had stopped, Bucky backtracked. “You okay?’

“Yeah.” Deciding it wasn’t worth the pursuit, you turned to him and nodded towards the doorway Sam already went through. He gave you a look, but nodded and the two of you jogged into the room.

You sighed heavily, seeing Zemo knocked out on the floor, Walker standing over him and broken vials that were previously full of, what you assumed was, the Serum. Hoskins ran in right after you, meaning no one but Walker and Zemo knew what happened. Meaning you would probably never get the full, true story.

What fun it is to work with manipulators and liars.

********************

“I don’t like him.” Bucky grumbled, the two of you walking up to the place you were staying in, Bucky holding the door open for you.

“I know you don’t, Buck. I don’t either.” You had asked Bucky to go with you to get some fresh air once you got back, Zemo having woken up a few minutes after and Walker and Hoskins had to make a call or something official like the good soldiers they were. “He’s hiding something.”

“You think?” Bucky scoffed, giving you a look.

You rolled your eyes. “I mean…I don’t know. When we found him and Zemo…my gut twisted.”

He nodded in understanding, his face twisting into a scowl. “Yeah. Mine did too.”

You stopped him before you could walk through the door to the main room. “Do me a favor?” He nodded again with a little hum. Catching his chin between your fingers, your free hand moved to smooth out the creases between his brow. “Stop brooding so much. It makes me worried.”

His tongue darted out to wet his lips, features softening slightly. “Are you really gonna leave in the morning? I know you’ve had a lot of people telling you to take a break, and it’s selfish for me to ask you to stay, but…I dunno if I can finish this without you.”

“I-” You sighed, ducking your head as you thought of a response, before looking up in his wide eyes, begging for you to stick around longer. “Let’s just finish the day and see what happens next. Okay?”

He bit his lip, nodding slightly. You gave him a smile, before tugging on his hand. “I need a drink.”

He chuckled at that. “That I can fix, doll.” He, again, opened the door for you, and the two of you walked in.

“What a gentleman. Straight outta the 40’s.” You joked, making him roll his eyes.

He took off his jacket, heading to the kitchen, while you sat on the opposite side of the island. “Somethin’s not right about Walker.”

Sam gave you two an amused look. “You don’t say.”

“Well, I know a crazy when I see one.” He opened the lid of the bottle he grabbed, starting to pour two glasses of whiskey for the both of you. “Because I am crazy.”

You rolled your eyes as Sam responded, “can’t argue with that.”

“You shouldn’t have given him the shield.”

Giving Bucky a disapproving look over the rim of your glass, you sipped your drink, narrowing your eyes when he ignored you. “I didn’t give him the shield.”

“Well Steve definitely didn’t.”

Your glass slammed down on the counter. Why did he have to bring this up right now? Seriously? You were just having a nice conversation about places you wanted to visit while taking a walk outside. Why was he suddenly snapping?

Before you could scold him, the doors burst open, making your head whip over as Walker stormed in, “ordering” you to hand over Zemo.

You stayed sitting, leaning on the counter and facing the opposite wall as Sam told him off, giving an amused snicker as you sipped your drink. Bucky sat besides you, facing Walker, and you recognized from the angle he was positioning himself that he was blocking you from Walker’s view, whether intentional or not.

You raised an eyebrow, turning in interest when Walker put down the shield, knowing Sam wasn’t about to fight the man. What an ego the blonde had.

Before anything could happen, however, a spear pierced through the air, lodging in the pillar next to Walker’s head.

Your frustration with Bucky’s comment flew out of your head as Ayo and a few other Dora Milaje walked in. Bucky sat up straighter and you stood up, leaning ever so slightly against his arm.

You nearly facepalmed, a sound of complete disbelief leaving you as Walker introduced himself. Sam looked over at you two, an entertained, slightly incredulous smile on his face.

Sam tried warning him. He really did. But Walker, you’ve come to find, was an arrogant, egotistical narcissist who only wanted to win and would do whatever it takes to do so. Even when there wasn’t really a winner. At least, not in that situation. It seemed that Walker liked ignoring the gray area in the world, which wasn’t good. Not in the least.

Which is why you couldn’t really feel sorry for the man. You saw it coming as soon as he told them they didn’t have jurisdiction. And the moment he touched Ayo?

You put your chin on Bucky’s shoulder - who had stood up from his spot - watching the Dora Milaje kick Walker’s ass, wincing and cringing mockingly at the right moments, making Bucky smirk at you.

“We should do something.” Sam said, although he didn’t look thrilled about the prospect.

Bucky crossed his arms. “Looking strong, John!”

You gave a slight snort, not wanting to encourage anything, but unable to hold in your amusement. Bucky winked at you, clinking his cup of whiskey with your own, before taking a gulp.

“Bucky.” 

You huffed and stepped back at Sam’s tone. “C’mon, Buck.”

“Fine.” Bucky grunted. “But ‘M not happy about it.”

Soon, the three of you, plus Walker and Hoskins, were all occupied with a member of the Dora Milaje. You knew you couldn’t take them; they were on a higher level that Natasha, and you could barely beat her. But you weren’t necessarily trying to win.

It was a strange fight, knowing that no one - except Walker, probably - actually wanted to hurt anyone. Of course, that didn’t stop one of them from exploiting your injured shoulder that she spotted rather quickly. The hits were quick and precise, the tip of her spear cutting along the graze, hitting the spot just perfect enough to reopen it. The stitches that had been placed only a couple days ago ripped, making you wince and clutch your now bleeding shoulder.

“Oh fuck.” You groaned. “You were always good with those things.”

She gave you an almost apologetic look, before she looked over to Ayo, who stepped through the room towards the bathroom where Zemo had locked himself in during the chaos.

When you caught sight of the shoulder thing she did to Bucky, his metallic arm now laying on the floor, his eyes wide and his stance stunned, your jaw nearly dropped. You guessed it made sense that they had a way to do that, but, still. None of you were expecting it.

“Did you know they could do that?” Sam asked once they started leaving, Bucky picking up his arm and connecting it to his shoulder.

“No.” The arm whirred as he swung it, getting it back to normal.

You couldn’t help the little giggle that left you, making Bucky raise an eyebrow at you. You tried holding in more laughs, but they just kept coming. “She-she...she disarmed you!”

Bucky rolled his eyes as you chortled, holding your stomach and bending over. “Ha ha. Very funny.”

“Oh come on!” You straightened and wiped your eyes. “That was good! Wasn’t it, Sammy?”

Sammy chuckled and nodded. “I’ll admit, it was pretty good. This, however, is not.”

Your laughter died as Sam made his way over to the bathroom, the light air that came with your cackles dissipating as quickly as it came.

“I can’t believe he pulled an El Chapo.”

You stared at the drain that was uncovered - large enough for Zemo to slip inside and escape. He did it. The son of a bitch finally did it. It took him long enough. You would’ve betted against him days ago.

“I can.” Bucky turned and grabbed your hand. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

*********************

“I thought you told them.”

Bucky looked up from wrapping your shoulder, an eyebrow raised. “What?”

“I thought you told them. The Dora Milaje. Wakanda. T’Challa. I thought you told them about Zemo.”

He leaned back with a sigh. “It was kinda a last minute decision. You know that. You were there.”

You nodded. “I do. But I also know what they’ve done for you. Shuri and Ayo. I was there for that, too. And you know what he did to them. To their country. Their king.”

“I know, I know. I almost died several times because of it.”

Your eyebrows pinched in confusion. “So why-”

“I thought it’d be quick. I thought, maybe, I could do it without them finding out and then we could get to Karli and they wouldn’t be disappointed. Win win.”

Your cheek caught between your teeth as you thought. “You could’ve just asked-”

He shook his head. “They would’ve said no. You know that.”

“Okay. Fine. Yes. I know that. But…but giving them a warning would’ve been better than this.” He hung his head, closing his eyes. “Bucky. Hey,” hooking a finger under his chin, you tilted his head back up to look at you. “I know it’s been hard for you. Everything has. And I’m sorry I dragged you into this. I shouldn’t have let you come along. You should be healing, and it’s my fault you’re not.” He opened his mouth, face scrunching up in disagreement, but you shook your head. “It’s true. I just…I didn’t know it would come this far.” You gnawed on your bottom lip studying those captivating eyes, before sighing. “Which is why I’m not leaving.”

He perked up, those pretty eyes going wide, jaw slackening. “You-you’re not?!”

You shook your head. As much as you wanted to run away, you couldn’t. It wouldn’t be right. “It wouldn’t be fair to you or Sam. I promised to help, and I brought you into it. So I’m gonna stay.

“Are you, uh…are you sure? You don’t hafta if you don’t wanna, doll. I know I kinda pushed you earlier, but-”

“I’m sure Buck.” You nodded firmly. “Just…do something for me?”

“I dunno if I can promise not brooding, sweetheart.”

You giggled at his words. “Not that. Just…stop giving Sam a hard time. About the shield. Please.”

His soft features hardened and he scowled. “If he didn’t give it up-”

“He thought it was going to the museum. I told you about that, remember? I told you we’d go when I got back.”

Giving a slight nod, he sighed. “We never did.”

“We will. But, I’m serious, Buck. Please. It’s not his fault. He did exactly what Steve did.” At Bucky’s confused look, you pursed your lips, looking down at his hands, starting to play with his fingers. “Remember how I was thinking during those ten minutes we had?” He nodded. “I was thinking about how Steve gave the shield back to Tony. After saving you. In Siberia. You remember that?” Another nod was given, so you continued. “It was for you, James. Because you made him realize that he didn’t want to be the face of a country that preached one thing, but did another. And that’s what Sam did. He did it for his family. For himself. Because no one wants to fight for a country that goes against your personal beliefs, no matter what they say.”

“I-I don’t understand.” Bucky’s eyes squinted, his brow creasing as he tried processing what you were telling him.

“That’s okay. Not everyone will. Really only they can understand their own reasoning. But you have to try to understand that he did what he thought was best for himself. For Steve. For the shield. And I know - dammit do I know - that it’s the last thing left of him. But it is just metal. Isn’t it? Steve’s the reason it is what it is. No one else. And no one is going to change that.”

Bucky took a breath, glossy, worried eyes meeting yours. “Walker’s going to ruin it. I know he is. I can feel it. Everything Steve worked for. I don’t care about Captain America. I care about the kid from Brooklyn who wanted to make a difference, no matter how little he was. I trusted him. I followed him through bullets and blood, with only that shield between us and them. He was home on a battlefield in Italy across the ocean from New York. And that shield was the welcome mat. It doesn’t matter what it says, what it looks like…but it protected my home when I couldn’t. But now? I feel like it’s tearing my home down. Pulling out the bricks. And it hurts. It was never about the shield, Y/N. It was always about the man it protected when I couldn’t be there for him. And now?”

Gathering him in your arms as he trailed off, you gave a couple little sniffles, pressing your face in his hair, nails scratching the nape of his neck lightly. “I’ll be your welcome mat, Buckaroo.” You offered.

He shook his head, pulling away to hold your face between his hands. “No, sweetheart. You’re not the welcome mat. You’re the new bricks replacing the old. You’re…you’re my home, now, doll.”

You swallowed thickly, unable to handle the rush of emotions that just poured through you, the sudden change in topic making you feel more vulnerable than you’d like. You leaned forwards, placing a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth, feeling him go lax in your arms. “And you’re mine.” You murmured softly, before getting up and heading out for the room, unable to stay any longer. You still had a mission to do. One that became even more desperate with Zemo loose, Walker unhinged, and Karli being so close.

******************

There was a silent agreement to not bring up your conversation. Not yet, at least. Sam had eyed you both when you came out of the room, saying you were ready to get moving, but he didn’t say anything either.

None of you really knew where you were going, only what you had to do. Find Zemo and get to Karli before Walker could. Both of which were a lot easier said than done.

Until Sam got a call from Sarah, who told him Karli contacted her personally and threatened her and her sons. She left a contact number for Sam, evidently wanting to meet. His phone dinged not a minute after he texted the number.

“She said come alone.”

“Well that’s not happening.” You opposed, crossing your arms.

Bucky nodded with your sentence. “We’re coming with you.”

Sam didn’t say anything against it, the three of you exchanging glances, before heading out to the location, changing into your tactical suits along the way.

Karli didn’t seem to mind you and Bucky tagging along, and you understood why the moment she mentioned not killing Sam because he wasn’t hiding behind a shield. It was a distraction. They were going after Walker.

It was confirmed only moments later when Sharon contacted Sam. “Looks like he found them, or maybe they found him.”

As soon as Sam announced that it was Walker, you jumped into action, Sam disabling Karli for just the right amount of time for you to get a head start. “I’ll send you the location. Go.” He told Bucky, who nodded and took off in his super soldier sprint. “You hitching a ride?”

You rolled your eyes at his slight tease. “I hate this so much.” You grumbled, catching his hand as he took off in the air with his bird costume. He held onto you tightly, like the millions of times you’d done this before, although it didn’t make you any less dizzy, traveling that fast, that high, with only his hold keeping you from dropping. “You’re lucky I trust you so much!”

He gave a small chuckle at your shout over the wind. “We’re landing! Brace yourself!” You followed his order, just in time for him to break through the glass ceiling of the building Walker was in. The both of you landed on a platform on the staircase just as a Flag Smasher was thrown through double glass doors, down the stairs, and into a power box. Your eyes went wide as Walker strolled down the steps, oozing a confidence that made you nervous. The moment Walker stopped the Flag Smasher - the Super Soldier - from hitting him with the pipe, you knew even before he twisted it like a pretzel.

“Sam.” You breathed out. You couldn’t even do anything, only watching as the Flag Smasher got up from being thrown again, and running down a hall.

“What’d you do?”

“They got Lemar.” Was the only reply he gave, brushing past you and Sam. You gave Sam a look, but he just jerked his head down the hall, in the direction the Flag Smasher went and the way Walker started heading. You nodded, willing to drop it for now to save someone’s life, but you were so bringing it up once this was done.

Jogging into the room, you should’ve expected the ambush in the room, but, to be honest, they didn’t take as much advantage as they could’ve, so it wasn’t too difficult of a fight. You had trained with Steve millions of times before, so you knew how to go against a Super Soldier. Granted, your Cap wasn’t trying to kill you while training, but it was better than nothing.

You protected your shoulder, knowing that was your weak point, while trying to disguise it so whoever you were fighting wouldn’t realize your Achilles’ Heel. Something you often found while dealing with Steve, and even Bucky, was that Super Soldiers, as quick as they were, tended to favor the super strength side of their enhancements. This made it easier for you to dodge the attacks, knowing most of your blows wouldn’t do much.

Knowing you wouldn’t be able to stay on the defensive for long, you decided to try to get an advantage over them. Disarming them and taking their knife was easy enough. A small advantage, yeah, but now you had a weapon, and you could work with that.

You weren’t exactly sure when Bucky joined the fight, but he did, immediately coming over to you when you body kicked your opponent, helping you up. “That was a Steve move.” Your eyes caught sight of the Flag Smasher behind him and you shoved his shoulder down, throwing your knife, making it land solidly in the man’s shoulder. Bucky looked up at you from his crouch, impressed. “And that was a me move.”

You shrugged. “I’m a visual learner.”

You, Sam, and Bucky were about to go for another round with the guys when a sickening crack sounded behind you, and you whipped around. 

Hoskins was against a split pillar, a crimson streak running down his forehead, head lolling to the side, lips red and cracked. The fight stopped as Walker rushed over to his friend, but you knew there was no way he survived. A punch from a Super Soldier? That hard?

Eyeing the Flag Smashers, you turned to Sam and Bucky when they started dispersing, Karli running out as well. They nodded towards you and the three of you took off after her, not wanting to let her get away again and, for you, at least, wanting to give Walker some time.

You weren’t expecting his grief to turn into such raw hatred. 

Running up to the city square, you didn’t actually see it happen. Just the aftermath. Which was good, considering you nearly threw up just seeing that.

You heard the change in Bucky’s breathing, barely recognizing the way he stepped in front of you, only realizing you stepped closer when you felt his sleeve against your palms, fingers tightly wrapped around his forearm. A choked sound came from somewhere, but you didn’t know it was you, even as Bucky reached his arm around to hold your waist, keeping you behind his shoulder. 

Tears leaked down your face silently, eyes unable to look away as Walker straightened, sliding the shield on his arm, too nonchalantly for someone who just murdered another in front of a crowd full of people, cameras pointed towards him.

The shield. That piece of metal you had been wondering so deeply about the past couple of weeks. The link to the first person you’d ever loved. Ruined. Tarnished. Stained.

You could barely breathe, your throat clenching so tightly it was a wonder you were able to get anything out at all.

“James…”

[avintagekiss24]

one cup sugar, one cup spice | a. barber

→ pairing: andy barber x black!reader

→ word count: 7074

→ warnings: age gap, corruption kink, innocent reader, daddy kink, pain kink, smut, sex, loss of virginity, vaginal fingering, hand job (male receiving)

→ author note: happy holidays my dudes! what i would do to have andy barber standing in my kitchen... anyway, reader is i n n o c e n t, but totally of age, and in college. as always, line breaks by @firefly-graphics​, gif by @evansensations​

There’s a light dust of white covering the green lawns and black asphalt of the street. You shiver as you follow your parents out towards their car, pulling your beanie down over your ears before you shove your hands into your navy blue Dartmouth hoodie.

“Honey,” your mom coos, turning back towards you as your dad loads the car, “Are you sure you don’t want to come with us? Your aunt has plenty of room.”

“I’m positive,” you laugh, “Aunt Sohpie and I don’t get along that great anyway.”

“Well, you could try a little harder.”

Your mouth drops open, eyes wide as you stare at her, “She called me a stuck up, yuppie bitch when I told her I wasn’t going to stop using deodorant.”

Your dad chuckles, prompting a swift slap to the shoulder from your mother before she turns back towards you, “Sophie is a free spirit. She doesn’t believe in putting chemicals in or on her body. One week of trying to get along won’t hurt you.”

“Oh, it’ll hurt,” you answer, pulling her into a hug, “Smelling her B.O. for a week would actually kill me.”

Your mother tuts, pulling back and slumping her shoulders a little as she squeezes your sides gently, “I don’t want to leave you here alone for Christmas.”

“Oh, stop badgering the girl. She’ll be fine,” your dad cuts in, kissing your forehead when he approaches, “She had a tough semester, she’s allowed some alone time. Be good, baby. I left a credit card on my desk for any emergencies.”

You smile warmly, “Thanks daddy.”

There’s a sound of a door opening, then closing, heavy footsteps against the old wood of the porch next door, “Oh, Andy,” your mom calls towards the neighbor, “You got a minute?”

Your face scrunches as you glance over at your father, who sighs heavy, “Don’t get mad, baby.”

“Why would I get mad?”

“She kinda, you know,” he shrugs, knocking his head back and forth, “Asked the neighbor to look in on you while we’re gone,” when your face drops, he throws up his hands, “I didn’t do it, she did.”

“Mom!” You hiss, flipping your eyes to the tall, dark haired man cutting across his front lawn, “I don’t need a babysitter! I’m twenty years old!”

“Hush,” she whispers, plastering a smile on her face as she wraps her arm around your waist, “Sorry to bother you, Andy.”

“Oh, no, no, no. It’s okay, I was just checking the mail.”

You’re angry and embarrassed as the tall, older man approaches, but a sudden heat blooms across your chilled brown skin. Pushing your glasses up your nose, you take a heavy breath, expelling it hard as you eye him. You’ve only really seen him in passing, throwing your hand up in a friendly wave as you jogged into your childhood home during a long weekend away from school. You only vaguely remember him moving in about a year or two before. Hell, you don’t even think the two of you have uttered anything more than just a neighborly ‘hey’, and now, thanks to your mother, he’s going to be keeping an eye on you.

Just wonderful.

She smiles proudly, “You remember our daughter, right?”

“I do,” he smiles slowly, an intense pair of blue-green eyes bouncing between yours, “We’ve run into each other a few times over the years. How you doin’ kiddo?”

He reaches out, extending a large palm and long fingers. You take it gently, smiling soft as you drop your eyes from his, nerves suddenly pooling in your stomach, “Um, good. Thanks for asking. How um,” you swallow, glancing back up at him, finding his eyes still centered on you, “How are you?”

He shrugs, but keeps your much smaller hand in his, “Can’t complain.”

“Listen, honey,” your mom starts, “I asked Mr. Barber to pop over and check on you every now and again while we’re gone.”

“Mother,” fake laughter filling the air, your face hot from being annoyed to all hell, “I’m not a child, and I’m sure Mr. Barber has better things to do with his time than to check on me constantly.”

“It’s no problem,” he shrugs again, those eyes of his now roaming, down your body, then up again, slowly, “I have the next couple of weeks off myself.”

“Congrats on the promotion, by the way.” Your father smiles, finally drawing Andy’s attention away from you. He nudges your side with his elbow, “Andy’s the new District Attorney.”

You keep your eyes on the tall Andy, sliding them the length of his body. He’s sturdy. Broad shoulders not so hidden underneath his zip up hoodie, clinging to thick biceps. Dark jeans accentuate long legs and a little waist. A perfect, full beard lines his strong jaw and chin. Two enormous hands are shoved into the pockets of his pants, so large that they don’t even fit right… You inhale deep, drawing your bottom lip into your mouth, sinking your teeth into the flesh as a tiny moan slips through.

Blue eyes snap to you again as it sounds. God. Your lips part, eyes widen as they stare back at him in embarrassment. He just smiles again, slow and seemingly knowing; his eyes falling down your frame again.

“We better go if we’re gonna miss traffic, hun.” Your dad’s voice suddenly breaks into your conscience, snapping you out of the small trance that Andy Barber has leveled over you, “Andy, thanks for watching over our baby while we’re gone.”

Andy winks at you, “I won’t hover, I promise. If you need anything, at any time, I’m right next door, okay? Better yet, let me give you my number.”

You nod quick, clearing your throat as you fumble around with your phone, pulling it out of your hoodie and handing it over to him, “Sure, yeah. Th-thank you, Mr. Barber.”

“Andy,” he corrects, reaching out and cupping your elbow gently, “Please.”

Another warmth spreads through you, emanating from the contact, making you giggle and smile nervously like a stupid girl before you get a hold of yourself and blink away. You all exchange another round of pleasantries, Andy wishing your parents a safe trip before he locks eyes with you again— biting his lip as he blinks and hands your phone back before turning away and heading towards his mailbox.

Almost frozen in place, you blink as you watch him move across his grass, forcefully swallowing. You really need to get out more.

One last hug from your mom and dad and you wave as they pull out of the driveway, your mom waving excitedly at you through the windshield. Rolling your eyes, but smiling wide, you return a wave before heading back inside, locking the door behind you before making a brisk b-line to the front door.

Andy’s still outside, pushing the green trash cans up against his garage as you peek out at him from behind the thin, white, door curtains. He throws open one of the lids before dipping his head, eyeing the mail in his hand as he flips through it slowly, tossing the junk into the open can. A pink blush piques on his cheeks and the tip of his nose, lips red with the chill. He looks up suddenly— out of nowhere— and cocks his head, letting another smile curl onto his lips when the two of you make eye contact again.

You gasp and jump back, instantly turning on your heel to run up the stairs towards your bedroom, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

The smell of fresh baked cookies fills the house as you pull a pan from the oven. You hum in satisfaction, a small smile on your face as you scoop the sugar cookies onto the cooling rack before pulling your mom’s Santa Claus mittens off your hands and tossing them to the counter. Last Christmas by Wham plays from the small bluetooth speaker in the corner of the kitchen, A Charlie Brown Christmas on mute playing from the ipad leaning against the utensil holder.

There’s a random crackling from the fire you started in the living room as you move around, a whir from the mixer as it beats the eggs, powdered sugar, vanilla extract, and corn syrup together. You dip your finger into the mixture, popping it into your mouth and groaning as the sweetness explodes on your tongue before you pull the beaters out, slipping your finger down the stainless steel to collect the icing still stuck to them.

A knock sounds from the front door, permeating through the rather quiet house. You lean to the side, blinking at the door as a shadow shifts through the windows on either side. Shoving the icing laden finger into your mouth, you jog towards the door, bare feet heavy against the wood floor.

“One second, one second,” you mumble, wiping your hands on your pale pink cotton shorts before you tug at your hoodie and unlock the door. A sharp inhale of cold air fills your chest when you pull open the door to find one Andy fucking Barber standing on the opposite side, “Oh,” is all you can manage.

“Hey,” he smiles, “It’s been a few days, just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Being a biomedical engineering student, you can rattle off some of the most difficult, obscure words known to man with exactly zero problems. When it comes to social interaction with the hot, forty-something, lawyer next door? Your tongue is heavy, your brain… dumb.

His smile widens as you blink like a moron, his eyebrows climbing up his forehead as he waits for you to talk. Here’s the part where you speak, dumbass! “Um,” you stutter, “Sorry, I, uh, yeah, I’m okay. I’m good, sorry.”

“Smells good in here.”

Nodding, you bite your lip, your eyes everywhere but on his face— his stare just too much, “I’m making cookies.” you glance over your shoulder before you point, “Do you want to make some? I mean,” you slam your eyes closed, “Do you want to try some? Not, some, one, do you— do you want to try one? Or some… I guess… whatever.”

Idiot. You’re a bumbling, stumbling, idiot.

He chuckles, the rumble low and deep as he runs one of those big ass hands through his dark, soft looking hair, “That is the best offer I’ve had all day.”

He steps over the threshold, his fingers brushing over yours as he reaches to close the door. You snatch your hand from it quickly, wringing it within the other as you turn awkwardly and move towards the kitchen, swallowing hard, suddenly hyper aware of how bare your legs are.

“It’s Christmas Eve,” Andy starts from behind you, “I’m surprised to find you here and not out with some friends.”

You move behind the marble topped island in the center of the kitchen as Andy walks around the opposite side. His eyes are on you again, staring as you fumble with the spatula, your fingers going as dumb as your brain, dropping it with a loud clang. You don’t even know why— okay, you know why, but this is something deeper, something you haven’t experienced before.

“Oh,” you shrug, “No, I uh, I just kinda like to stay around the house.”

He nods slowly, “A homebody, huh? Me too.”

He makes you dizzy; his masculinity is intimidating. It fills up every little space in the room. His intelligence— worldly, experienced—  oozes from him. He looks like you could ask him anything, anything, and he’d have the right answer for you. He could teach you a thing or two, that’s for sure.

A shudder creeps through your body, heat blooming across your skin, having to shift on your feet as your stomach flutters while you focus on icing this stupid cookie. The physical space he takes up unnerves you too. That wide, towering frame looming over you. Deft, thick fingers tapping gently against the countertop as you stumble around, your hands shaky.

There’s a stickiness. A warm, little wet spot in the center of your panties as stupid thoughts run through your stupid brain. You’re being ridiculous. Like this grown man would be interested in an inexperienced, socially awkward, in bed by eight thirty, little girl. Get a grip.

You slather some icing over the warm cookie and cautiously hand it towards him, clearing your throat and forcing a smile. Wringing your hands again, you find a little courage to lift your eyes just as he pops the small cookie into his mouth, closing his eyes as he chews slowly, a grunt sounding from deep in his throat.

Every muscle in your body clenches at the sound. It’s gorgeous— and if there’s anything your body appreciates, it’s a gorgeous man with a gorgeous grunt.

“It’s okay?” You squeak, timid and small before you nervously clear your throat.

“Shit, girl,” he moans again, licking his lips as he extends his hand again, “I could eat every single one of these.”

Nervous fingers clutch another cookie, adding a dollop of icing before you hand it over to him, eyes drifting up his chest and to his face as he devours the second treat. Your curious eyes watch with a longing. Pretty, thick, dark eyelashes closing again, splashing across smooth, slightly reddened cheeks. A pink tongue darts out of a wet mouth to slip along an inviting— too inviting— bottom lip, and you zero in on it. Chest rising and falling a little harder as you blink, in your own little world as you imagine just how much experience those lips, that tongue has.

There’s a hint of blue suddenly, his eyes no longer closed, now set squarely on you as those sickenly perfect white teeth emerge with another sly smile.

Another wave of embarrassment pushes through your veins, but you can’t look away from him this time. Locked in a heated stare, mind racing, palms sweaty as you watch Andy dip his index finger into the bowl of icing, scooping the sugary mix onto the pad of his digit.

“You like watching me, huh?”

Your mouth parts to answer, but nothing comes out, mouth and throat suddenly dry. He laughs at you, standing there, dumb and nervous, unable to form a coherent sentence as he pushes the tip of his finger into his mouth, sucking the icing from it slowly.

He’s moving, that much your brain can comprehend. Moving around the island, sliding the bowl of icing right to the edge where he dips his finger again, curling it to collect another glob.

Shallow, shaky breaths escape the small part in your lips, your chest and stomach so tight you’re surprised you can breathe at all. As it is, you have to rest your palm against the marble island, just to keep from falling over.

A long arm slips around your waist, nudging you forward— closer— so close that when one of those shallow, little breaths pushes out, your chest, well, your tits, brush against his. You picked a fine day to go without a bra. He drops his free hand to your waist, pushing it underneath your oversized hoodie to feel your skin as he wraps those long fingers around your hip, giving it a squeeze before he cups your chin.

“You have a boyfriend back at that fancy ass school?” He asks, eyes hooded as he tilts your head upward.

A hum vibrates through your chest before there’s a quick shake of your head as he pushes the icing over your bottom lip, smearing the sugary mix along it. He keeps your chin anchored in his hand as he stares down at you through slits, his own mouth dropping open as he coaxes yours.

“No, a smart girl like you doesn’t have time for boys, does she?” He purrs, “You probably haven’t even been touched by a boy.”

A squeak chokes in your throat as he teases you, pushing that finger back and forth, the tip pushing ever so gently into your mouth. He chuckles again, real low, menacing almost as he knows he has you right where he wants you.

“Ya know,” he starts, thumbs stroking your chin and jaw, “This Christmas cookie frosting would taste a hundred times better on you than my finger.” He smiles again, tilting his head, “Can I see?”

You mewl, pitiful and small as emotion pools in your eyes. You’re overwhelmed— nervous and unsure, wanting to be perfect. Womanly— but surely falling flat.

“Oh, baby,” he laughs, sweeping his thumbs underneath your eyes to catch the hot streaks, “Awww, it’s okay.”

Andy pushes in close, his lips brushing yours as he nuzzles his nose into the crook of yours, a low sound thrumming in his throat. He presses his cheek against your face, the soft hair of his beard pushing along your skin, goosebumps popping up all over. Your bodies start to sway in a slow rhythm, side to side, his warm breath washing over you as he smiles.

He pulls away, eyes traveling your face, “You haven’t even been kissed before?” When you don’t answer, he closes his eyes, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth, “No? Oh, my sweet girl. That is just,” he groans, eyes twinkling with an emotion you don’t even understand, “You are so perfect— so good.”

His forehead comes to rest on yours, his hands still corralling your face, fingers sticky. His tongue darts out quick, licking at your lips, dragging up to the tip of your nose. You shudder, bleating as the rough velvet passes over your mouth.

Andy moans again, sucking the icing into his mouth and swallows slow, “Yum.”

You’re jittery— clammy, as labored breaths push out of your mouth, a murky fog clouding your brain. Shaky whirs tremble through your chest as you shift on your feet, your panties sticking to your now throbbing pussy. Andy closes the distance between your mouths again, his eyes hooded as he nips at you.

Your eyes flutter, closing instinctively— waiting for the claim. It doesn’t come, not right away, making your eyes pop open, a childish whine squeaking out. You even stomp your foot a little. Twenty years is a long enough wait.

“Kiss me,” you breathe, not wasting a second, “Please, Andy—”

The words are barely out of your mouth before he grabs your lips, inhaling deep. His tongue fucks into your mouth, slipping along the roof before massaging yours, sucking lightly. You go limp against him, trying to keep up with the fervent kiss, but soon just let him take full control.

Andy pushes his hips into yours, pressing his hard cock against you, forcing you to break the kiss, gasping deep. He rests his forehead on yours again, tittering as he bites his bottom lip, “Never felt that before, huh? Mmmm,” he groans again, “I bet you feel good. So tight and warm— umph, I’m probably not even going to be able to fit my cock all in.”

You shudder at the thought.

He brushes the tip of his nose against yours, “I gotta open you up a bit, don’t I? Hmm? This sweet little cunt needs to get used to being stuffed full.” He turns you in his hands, presses his burly chest into your back, his lips to your ear, “I want you to finish icing these cookies like a good girl, okay? You do as daddy says.”

You don’t move, you can’t really, as you try to comprehend what’s going on. It takes Andy pushing his crotch into your ass, grinding your hips against the island and literally grabbing your wrists, making your hands grab the butter knife and a cookie before your brain catches up. With shaky fingers, you push the knife through the icing and slather it on one of the small, round, golden brown cookies.

“Good girl,” he praises, pecking your cheek, nuzzling into the side of your face, “Daddy wants you to focus.”

He drags his warm palms up your forearms, stroking gently before they fall to your sides. They push up into your hoodie, fingertips glancing across sensitive, untouched skin. Small laughter vibrates through his chest as you jump and gasp, huffing and keening as he explores.

Little kisses are pressed to your temple and side of your face as his hands venture up your sides, curling around your rib cage until he’s grasping your bare tits in both hands, squeezing and kneading— hissing as he grinds his rigidly hard cock into your ass.

You freeze, body going stiff as nimble fingers play with your thick, piqued nipples. Warm lips nip at your neck as you push back into his hips, wiggling slowly, the thin cotton of your shorts not proving to be much of a barrier at all.

Andy reaches around, plucking the cookie out of your hand and pops it into his mouth just as his free hand skips down your stomach— right into your shorts. You jut your hips forward as his fingers plunge through your folds, massaging your clit slowly as he murmurs in your ear.

“That’s what I love about virgins. The slightest little touch gets you all worked up.” He pulls his hand from your shorts, holding it out for you to see your slick coating his fingers— a string connecting from his index finger to the middle. He brings his wet fingers to your lips, steel eyes peering at you as he waits, “Clean ‘em up.”

He slides his free hand back into your sweatshirt, pushing it up over your tits before he tweaks your left nipple, rolling it slow as he pushes the tips of his fingers into your mouth. Sweet, tiny little whines sound from you as you accept his long fingers into your mouth, starting to suck gently, the taste of your arousal exploding on your tongue.

“That’s right, just like that baby.” He reassures, slipping a hand back into your panties.

Your mouth goes slack around his fingers as he toys with you, rubbing your achy clit as your hips start to move with his rhythm. Resting your weight against his sturdy body, you moan loud, pushing out hard breaths, eyes slipping closed, head rolling on his shoulder as his wet fingers slip from your mouth back to your left nipple.

His fingers start to tease your slit, pushing gently, slowly, until… a sharp yelp fills the kitchen as two fingers stuff you full. Andy wraps his arm around your waist, holding you to him, cooing in your ear as he continues to push in, “You’re okay baby. I know, I know sweet girl, we’re almost there. Just a bit more.”

Tears sting your eyes as your face strains from the pressure and pain of being spread for the first time. Once his fingers have disappeared, the heel of his palm pressing against your folds and clit, he pulls your chin towards him and licks at your mouth, sucking air in between his teeth.

“I can’t wait to fuck this sweet pussy,” he kisses you quick and hard, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth before he releases you with a loud smack, “I love a virgin cunt. It’s been a while since I’ve had one.”

You squeak when his fingers start to move, slow, deep, a squelch sounding as his fingers push into your muscles. It hurts, but there’s a twinge of good, something inside of you being pleasured once you push past the pain. The sweet taste of pleasure doesn’t stop the tears from rolling down your cheeks as his fingers pick up a brisk pace.

Andy growls in your ear, the sound scratching at the back of his throat, kind of hollow and breathy as he grinds his cock into your ass, “You havent fucked yourself like this before? I didn’t think I’d hurt you this bad with just my fingers, baby.”

A hot, rough wetness slides along your cheek, his tongue, lapping at you. You grab onto his forearm, feeling his muscles tense and flex as he fingers your innocence, digging your nails into the thick Shetland wool sweater covering his torso. He pushes deep, suddenly, making you cry out again.

He grunts, snaking his hand up into your hoodie to take a firm hold of your tit. Resting his forehead to the back of your head, he quickens his fingers, his hot breath on the back of your neck, quick swipes of his tongue and lips against your hypersensitive skin— making the miniscule hairs on your body stand on end.

His palm presses against your clit with each shove of his fingers. Strapping, hard chest flattened to your back, loud, husky moans in your ear. His hips roll and push, writhe into yours as his fingers start to thrash. Teeth sink into your shoulder, his tongue sliding and sweeping.

“Andy—” you cry, whimpering like a child, “It hurts. I— I can’t,”

“Oh, sweetheart.” His fingers slow and then stop, pulling out of you to rub your clit, soothing the balmy flesh. He turns you around in his arms as you cry, lifting you right from your feet, “I’m sorry. Shh, shh, I’m sorry, baby.”

The instant warmth of his mammoth chest and arms soothe the tumultuous pangs of anxiety coursing through you. Nuzzling in, the softness of his beard helps ease your nerves as you wrap two jelly arms around his neck. Andy’s big hands push up and down your back as he murmurs sweet nothings. Stomach tight, heart fluttering, face hot and wet with tears— you’re properly overwhelmed and overstimulated, and Andy could just eat it all up.

“You are so pretty when you cry, you know that? You did so good, baby. You took my fingers so well.”

You huff, disappointed, pushing your face deeper into his neck, “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, don’t do that,” he whispers, “It’s okay to not be ready.” He sits you back on your feet, pulling and adjusting your sweatshirt back over your chest. He pecks your lips quick before cupping your face in his hands, “It’s gonna make our first time together so much better.”

He pushes in to kiss you again, but stops, just as his lips brush yours. You get up on your tiptoes, wanting to meet his mouth but he’s quick, pulling away and stealing another cookie as he takes a step back.

“Thanks for the cookies, sweetheart.”

And just like that, with a wink and a smile, he’s moving out of the kitchen, the front door slamming behind him.

It might as well be the middle of a Texas summer heatwave in your bedroom. Exasperated, you throw the covers away from your body, skin slick with sweat as you wipe at your forehead. You’ve been like this all day— hot and irritated, stomach and mind jumbled, unable to focus on much of anything but thoughts of depravity. Pissed off at yourself more than anything; that you couldn’t take it all.

You sit up in the dark room, a sliver of moonlight spilling in from behind the thin curtains over your window. Snow flakes float down from the sky, glimmering, basking in the soft, natural light of the moon. Thoughts of Andy return. Reddened, full lips on your face, his soft, velvety, pink tongue forging its own path in the uncharted territory that is your mouth. His hands, big and warm, pinching and grabbing, pushing in deep.

Every muscle in your body clenches; achy cunt squeezing around nothing.

A soft light illuminates from the nightstand, followed by a buzz, a random alert from your twitter. But then, oh but then— Andy’s words come floating back to you. Better yet, let me give you my number. The sleek iphone is in your hand within seconds, fingers sliding over the keyboard, shooting off a text.

You 1:15am

You up?

Andy B. 1:17am

What’s a smart girl like you doing up so late on Christmas Eve?

An influx of air fills your lungs as your heart leaps.

You 1:17am

I can’t sleep…

Andy B. 1:18am

Want me to help with that?

You won’t be getting much sleep tho…

You 1:18am

That’s what I’m hoping…

Andy B. 1:19am

LOL, okay smarty pants, come wait for Santa with me, front door’s open

You’re already halfway down the stairs by the time his invite slides across the screen. You shove your feet into your Ugg boots at the bottom of the staircase and grab your jacket from the coat rack, pushing into it as you throw open the front door. Crossing your arms over your chest, you jog down the steps of the porch and start for Andy’s, an instant chill rattling right down to your bones.

Footprints in the snow follow you as you cross the lawn, a light crunch sounding underneath your feet, adding to the whoosh of a breeze that rips through the sleepy street. Once you’re on Andy’s porch, you reach for the door, pushing through the threshold and closing it softly with a click.

The house is dark, and quiet, a tiny point of light coming from the kitchen and the random ticks of a clock somewhere deep. Your jacket hits the floor, ugg boots thump against the wall as you kick them off, hand slides along the banister as you climb the stairs slow. Wide eyes adjust to the dark as you pad slowly down the long hall, passing by one closed door, and then another until you reach one that’s slightly ajar. Light spills out of it, splashing over your bare toes as you step right up to it, fingertips pushing against the door.

You find Andy propped up against his headboard, chest bare, legs spread— hard, pink cock sticking out of his boxers, gripped tight in his hand. He flips his eyes to yours as he strokes himself slow, pushing his hips into it, groaning at the sight of you.

The air in your body— the room— is sucked right out as you lock eyes. With a blink, your greedy eyes are on the move, down his hair smattered chest and chiseled stomach, over the dark blue boxer briefs, down his meaty thighs and toned calves, right to his curled toes and back up again.

You have to bite your lip to keep quiet.

“I’ve been,” the words out of his mouth come to a halt being replaced by a low grunt as he squeezes his cock, precum dribbling out of his slit, “Shit sweetheart, I’ve been thinking about you all day. Haven’t been able to cum since you left me all worked up.”

You bleat softly, blinking wild and nervous as you watch his hand slide up and down, palm and fingers sweeping over his mushroom head to collect the droplets of his arousal to push it down his shaft.

“Well, come on. Come touch me.”

It’s a good thing your feet aren’t as stupid as your brain, or else you’d still be standing in place. Before you can get your mind to catch up, you're pulling yourself towards the edge of the bed, falling forward, catching yourself with your hands. Crawling between his legs, your tank top hangs low, Andy’s eyes peering down your cleavage before you sit on your knees— hands trembling.

He reaches for you, grabbing your wrist gently, pulling your hand towards his towering cock. Guiding you slow, he wraps your hand around him, his hips jerking soft at the warmth of your palm and pushes your hand down to his base, before dragging it up to the tip. He helps you for a few more strokes, twisting your hand around him, guiding your fingers up over his cock head and then back down, squeezing your hand to apply a gentle pressure.

“That’s right, baby—ah—” he hisses, jutting his hips up into your hand, “Shit.”

You continue to pump him after his hand falls away, relishing in the small noises that sound from him— sending your heart soaring. His hips pulse into your hand, eyes fluttering as more cum bubbles out, slipping and sliding over your fingers. Andy reaches for the lamp on the nightstand, turning it out, covering the room in darkness except for the moon.

He’s beautiful like this. Chest tight and shuddering with each breath, dark eyelashes splayed over fair skin, a chorus of sweet, small little whines and praise pouring from him. A soft pink blush unfurling over his broad chest, creeping up his neck.

“Fuck baby,” breathless and strained, “You’re a fuckin’ pro already. My smart little girl.” You suck your bottom lip into your mouth but still can’t help the smile that tugs at the corners, “Oh, you like that?” Andy smiles lazily, “You like being my smart little girl?”

Hot lips are on yours before you can even form your mouth to answer. Flipped onto your back, strong hips digging into yours, his cock pushing against your covered clit and slit as he kisses you hard. It takes your breath away.

You’d always thought you’d be awkward, stiff and unknowing, once you finally reached this moment— nothing but teeth and elbows and knees in all the wrong places— but, there’s a natural instinct coming into play. You’re lost, but somehow intricately aware. Fingers creep up his biceps and curl around his shoulder blades, digging in as your hips push back into his. Mouth leans into the feverish kisses, tongue sliding with his.

Colossal hands push into your shorts, pushing them down before his feet knock them off the rest of the way. Your top is rucked up, up over your breasts, exposing more brown skin, two soft, jiggling mounds, two piqued nipples soon sucked into a warm, wet mouth. A long middle finger toys with your clit, rubbing circles before more fingers join, slipping through slick and skin as they play.

“Tell me,” hot, whispered words sting in your ear, “Tell me you like being my smart girl.”

Hips dig into yours once more, hard cock pushing against your sensitive nub, then pressing at your opening. You grab the back of his neck, moaning hard and loud as electricity bounces through your veins, “Andy—” you squeak, “I like—”

A sharp cry breaks through the words as Andy pushes hard, spearing you for the very first time. Pressure and pain courses through you, body going tight and stiff as he sinks deeper and deeper, large palms on your cheeks, forehead to yours, warm breaths and ragged, choked grunts washing over your face.

Hard kisses— one, two, three— on your lips as he holds your face, his eyes closed, mouth hanging as he sinks, sinks, sinks until you’ve taken him all. Your head is empty. Devoid of any real, coherent thoughts, unable to focus on any one thing; well, nothing other than the fullness.

“Tell me you like being my smart girl.” Andy rasps, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth, trying to keep himself together. He shifts, hips pulling away from yours, cock dragging out, “Come on baby, tell me you like it.”

Andy pushes his hips, pushes back into you, but real gentle and smooth, knowing you’re teetering— overwhelmed in more ways than one, a feeling that can turn south on a dime. So, he keeps his hands on your face, thumbs rubbing soft circles. He opens his eyes, giving you something to focus on as he moves gently— so, so gently. Keeping you present.

“Use those words, sweet girl. Talk to me.”

Water fills your eyes as you grip, nails biting into the meat of his sides as he fucks you slow and sweet. Heat burns through you, tiny sounds, choked sobs scratch at the back of your throat, but it’s good— feels so good. Your legs push up and around his waist, hands start to snake up his sinewy back, feeling the muscles flex and tighten as he makes you a woman— makes you his.

Safe. Warm. Cocooned between his heavy body and the light mattress. Hips rolling, pushing and pulling. Hot breath over hot skin. Quick, jumbled words, thick and ripe with a heady lust. You like being his smart girl. Gripping fingers, around your face, your wrists, your tits, hips, thighs, ankles— everywhere you could possibly imagine.

Andy flips you over suddenly, his back now pressed into the mattress as you lay on top of him. He positions you right where he wants you— sitting you up straight, positioning your hands against his brawny chest. He encases your waist with those massive hands, squeezing tight before the pads of his fingers drag along your thighs as you wiggle, getting used to the new position.

“Push up— that’s right, sweetheart,” he sighs softly as you follow his direction, “Now sit back down— slowly, baby, go slow.” His head falls back on the pillows as he exhales, a groan trembling through his chest, “God, yeah babe. Good girl. Up and down, up and down.”

Your fingers push through the tuft of soft, dark hair covering his chest as you ride him, lifting and sitting, rolling and bucking as you get a hang of it— catch a feel— your clit rubbing against his taut skin. You feel Andy trying to keep his composure, feel him trying to restrain himself, his hips. Watch his eyes flutter and close as his mouth goes slack again as he pushes up into you, meeting your increasingly greedy thrusts downward.

“I’m your smart girl,” you whisper, heart beating hard and fast in your chest as your confidence grows, “I’ve always wanted to be your smart girl.”

He jams up into you, much harder than anything you’ve felt so far.

A sharp yelp cracks into the silence and he grabs your wrists, runs his hands up your arms, before he cups your face, “Shhh, shhh, shhh, I’m sorry baby. I didn’t know it was gonna sound so sweet,” he laughs, “God, I fucking love hearing you say that.”

He drops a hand back to your chest, grabbing a handful of your tit, toying with your nipple, pinching and pulling. His other hand wraps around your hip again, helping to pull you forward, as he thrusts soft. You don’t move; you just let him fuck up into you, grab his hands and thread your fingers with his as you bounce.

Thrusts get faster; hips hurried, jabbing. Wet rasps fill the room, octaves soaring. You fall forward a little, unclasping his hands to catch yourself against his chest. Andy’s hands are back around your waist and hips as you fuck down onto him, chasing that little, dull ache in the pit of your stomach that grows with each push of his hips.

Andy has two full handfuls of your ass, growling loud, hips faltering— losing control as he forces you down on him. You take each hard thrust, tears spilling down your cheeks, pleasure and pain all wrapped up into one. Sweat and heat crawls along your skin, stomach goes tight, throat dries. You dig your fingers into his chest as your toes curl, whimpering and crying out, choking as the pressure builds.

You tighten— freeze quick, gasp hard as a white hot orgasm floods your veins, like a molten lava, oozing, spreading. Flattening yourself to Andy’s chest, you let him wrap his arms around your back and hold you tight as he fucks you through it. The meat of his thighs slapping against yours, your cunt sounding wet and filthy, squelching and convulsing as you come.

There’s another heat, quick and dense, filling you as Andy’s grunts grow deeper. His grip on your ass tightens as he spurts— your used cunt coaxing long, hot ribbons of white silk from his sensitive, red cock head. He falls out of you, dick wet and hard, pushing through your ass cheeks as his hips still churn out of habit and inherent instinct.

Hands are on your head, fingers wiping at your face and forehead, pushing hair away. You’re embarrassed— not sure why— and nuzzle into his neck, hiding your face as you tuck your hands into your chest protectively. Another laugh sounds from him, vibrates through you, as he kisses your forehead and rubs his bearded cheek against your face.

“You’re a sweet girl,” honeyed, his voice, smooth and sweet, slow drags of his hands up and down your back lulling you, calming you, suddenly nervous, “My sweet, smart little baby. You okay?” you nod, but it isn’t good enough, “Tell me.”

“I’m okay.” You sniffle, eyelashes clumped, cheeks wet, lips swollen and red.

You nuzzle into him more, taking a deep breath as you listen to his heartbeat. Another silence fills the room, Andy’s breaths soon turn deep, slow and rhythmic, his hands and fingers coming to a slow stop but still splayed out over your back. A quick press of your lips against his neck makes him shift, but doesn’t wake him. You press another on his chin before you settle down into him once more, watching as snow starts to fall again.

There’s a Christmas present sitting at the edge of the bed when you wake the next morning, your name scrawled out on the name tag. You tear into it, pulling out a small white box, the name LELO embossed over the top. Eyebrows firmly furrowed, you turn it over in your hand, mouth falling open as you read the description and eye the two twenty karat gold Ben Wa beads.

Andy appears in the doorway, a steaming cup in his hand, a smile on his face, “Merry Christmas. Santa came for you, huh?”

“Merry Christmas,” you glance away, “I don’t have anything for you.”

“That’s okay,” he shrugs, “I was a bit presumptuous after our little rendezvous in the kitchen— ordered those from Amazon yesterday.” He pads towards you, leaning down to kiss you quick before he hands you the hot mug, “Are you okay?”

A nervous giggle escapes through your lips, your head falling as you cover your mouth with your hand, “Mmhmm.”

Andy tips your head back upwards, pushing his index finger underneath your chin, smiling again before he kisses you all sweet and soft and slow, making you go all stupid and gooey again.

“What are these for?” You ask after he pulls away a few moments later.

His eyes twinkle in the sunlight as he winks, “Training. Now, lay back and spread your legs for daddy, little one.”

[choking-on-tae]

ATEEZ Reaction to: You begging them not to stop

A/N: I've made a whole list of reactions I want to do for these guys and I hope you'll enjoy! It's a bit difficult to write cuz I've to go to school again and I'm quite busy but I'm trying! Also it's been so longs since I haven't written anything that wasn't fluff so sorry if it's a bit rusty. Might have let myself go a little with Yeosang and Wooyoung. Whoops. As usual gifs aren't mine and credits to the rightful owners. x

Seonghwa

Where do I even begin with this man? Seonghwa would be so fucking smug about it. When he hears your pleas he stops instantly, making you whine. He brings his face closer to yours as his eyes bore into your own. "What was that now sweetheart? Can you repeat that for me?"

You throw your head back against the pillows as you hear your boyfriend snicker. "Really, Hwa? You're making me say it again?"

Seonghwa hums in response as he tilts your face so he has access to your neck, pressing soft kisses against it to tease you. You tangle your fingers in his hair as you pull him closer, making him smirk against your neck.

"It's not that difficult baby." He mumbles, his voice being muffled by your skin.

"Fine." You groan, tugging at his hair to pull him back up.

His big eyes bore into yours as he waits for you to say it again, which you eventually do. "I said please don't stop."

That same smirk is back on his face as he raises his right eyebrow. "Now that wasn't that difficult, was it?"

Before you can respond Seonghwa crashes his lips against yours and resumes his pace from before, making you moan against his lips as you pull him closer.

Hongjoong

First Hongjoong thought that he didn't hear you correctly, but when you repeated yourself he couldn't help but tease you. Hongjoong smirks wickedly at you as he slows down his pace, almost coming to a halt.

"Please Joong." You whine, covering your face in embarrassment when it finally hits you what you just said.

"You just begged me not to stop, right baby?" He asks, his tongue poking at his lip as he raises his eyebrow.

"Yes." You mumble, looking everywhere but his eyes. Hongjoong is having none of it and takes your chin in between his thump and index finger, turning your face so you have no choice but to look at him.

"You want me to continue?"

"Yes, please." Hongjoong smirks at your request as he starts moving again, picking up pace as his hips slam against yours.

You let out a load moan as you tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer to you as Hongjoong brings you closer to the edge.

Yunho

Yunho doesn't lose control easily, but he does when he hears your pleas. His eyes grow wider as his hips come to a halt, his eyes boring into yours as a smirk grows on his face. "What now? Say that again baby girl."

Your eyes grow wide at his request as you feel your cheeks heat up. His intense gaze making you feel very small underneath him. As if your height difference didn't do that already. Yunho tilts your head so you're looking at him as he smirks at you. "Say it again, baby girl."

You swallow the lump in your throat as you lock eyes with him. "I said; please don't stop." Yunho grins upon hearing your words as he brushes some stray hairs out of your face.

"Now was that so hard? As you wish baby."

He leans down to crash his lips against yours as he resumes his pace from before, making you moan against his lips while your nails scratch down his back. Yunho lets out a loud grunt as he starts to move his hips faster, now fully slamming into you as he grips the headboard for support.

Yeosang

Yeosang's eyes widen as he hears your words. Feeling very proud that he made you that, and also can't help but tease you a little. He stops moving as he leans over you, both arms resting on either side of your head as he practically stares into your soul.

"You don't want me to stop?" You shake your head no as you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer so he can kiss you, which he does. Yeosang kisses you softly as he feels you trying to move your hips to get some kind of friction.

He chuckles deeply as he pulls back slightly, staring at you in amusement. "All you have to do is say it again, baby."

It doesn't take you long to realize that there's only one way out of this, and that is to give Yeosang what he wants. So you let out a soft sigh as you stare up at him.

Yeosang smirks as he raises his eyebrow at you, waiting for you to repeat yourself. "Please don't stop, Yeosang."

He leans down to quickly peck your lips as he says, "Hold onto me baby, I don't plan on being gentle."

You do as he says and hold on to him, as soon as you do you feel his hips slamming against yours at a very fast pace. You tighten your grip on his shoulders as you hear Yeosang's deep moans from where his head is buried in your neck.

San

I honestly think San would be a little surprised by your words at first. He stops moving as he stares at you for a while. "Did you really just ask that?"

When you nod shyly he feels all his shock from before disappear as his lips turn into a smirk. He trails his finger down your collarbone as he tilts his head slightly, biting down on his bottom lip while looking at you.

"Well.. if that's what you want then who am I to deny your request?"

You giggle softly at his teasing as San does the same. No matter how sensual a situation can get he's still the same lovable San as usual. So he leans down to press his lips against yours as his hips start moving again, starting of slow to get used to the feeling again before he lets himself go.

You throw your head back against the pillow as you feel him hit that spot inside of you. "S-San."

He presses a kiss against your neck as he grunts lowly. "I know baby, me too." He goes even harder as you dig your nails in his back, leaving red scratches that are bound to be there for a few days.

Mingi

Sweetpea would be so confused at first, because he didn't even plan on stopping at all. Mingi stops as he just stares at you with his eyebrow raised. "Why would I stop, princess?"

You giggle at his confusion as you brush some of his hair out of his face, pulling him down to peck his lips softly.

"It just felt really good and I didn't want you to stop. I guess it just slipped out?"

Mingi nods as he steals another kiss, taking his time to brush his nose against yours before pulling back slightly to rest on his arms so he can continue moving. You let out a soft moan as you feel him resuming his pace from before. Clutching the bedsheets underneath you as you let your boyfriend bring you closer to your high.

Mingi smirks at your expression as he buries his face in your neck, attacking it with small kisses as his low grunts fill your ears.

Wooyoung

As soon as he hears you beg for him he stops instantly. Bringing his face closer to yours as he smirks wickedly while staring deeply into your eyes. Wooyoung tilts his head slightly as he waits for you to say it again. Basically Wooyoung is a fucking tease that will literally just make you feel so small underneath him. When he gets no respond from you he leans in to whisper in your ear. His hot breath tickling it slightly, making goosebumps appear all over your body.

"Beg for me, baby girl."

Your eyes widen at his words as you see him pull back slightly so he's able to get a good look at you. "C'mon baby, it's not that difficult."

Knowing Wooyoung he won't continue unless he gets what he wants. So for once you decide to give him just that. You wrap your arms around his neck as you pull him closer to kiss him, which Wooyoung happily does. His hand finds your jaw as he tilts your head slightly so he can deepen the kiss.

You think he forgot about his little game until he pulls back with a smirk on his face, leaving you wanting more. You groan softly as you see him wiggling his eyebrows, knowing that he's won.

"Please. Please don't stop, Wooyoung."

He leans in to leave a few kisses down your neck as he whispers, "Now that wasn't that hard, was it? Let me give you what you want now." He groans the last part as he starts moving his hips at a fast pace, making your breath hitch in your throat as you hold onto him.

"Fuck you feel so good baby. Can't wait to make you cum."

Jongho

Jongho would be surprised at first, but he wouldn't stop his movement completely. He still thrusts into you softly as he holds your gaze, smirking softly when he sees your frustrated expression. Knowing it's not enough to get out of.

"Jongho." You whine, throwing your head back against the pillow as you close your eyes in frustration.

"What's it baby? Not fast enough for you?"

You shake your head 'no' as you try to move your own hips. Jongho notices and quickly pins them down to the bed. You look up to your boyfriend as he pulls out completely, making you whine and your eyebrows furrow in confusion. It isn't until you feel Jongho taking a hold of your leg that you realize what he's doing. He lifts your leg over his shoulder so can hit even deeper.

He quickly picks up the pace again as this time you feel him even deeper inside of you, intensifying the pleasure as you dig your nails in his shoulders.

Jongho grunts in response as he continues slamming his hips against yours, making you moan as the two of you near your highs.

"If I knew you liked it this rough I would have done this a long time ago, baby."

[plentyoffandoms]

👅🥵👅🥵

My 3rd...#25 with my wardaddy Wardlow...❤❤❤

Wardlow x f/Reader (18+)

Warnings: Some swearing. Descriptive sexual acts. Minors do not read. Size Kink. Use of pet name. Oral (f receiving) unprotected sex.

Just like all my other stories, this has not been proofread, but please enjoy.

Gifs & Photos do not belong to me.

Hope you like it.

Main Masterlist ♡ AEW Masterlist ♡ WWE NXT Masterlist ♡ Your Body is a Wonderland Masterlist ♡ Wardlow Masterlist

#25.I need you and I want you. Butt naked. In my bed. Right now.

YN's POV:

My whole body felt like it was fire as Michael slowly took off his clothes, piece by agonising piece.

It is about damn time he got naked as I have been naked for well over an hour now in his hotel room.

My mind was still trying to wrap around how the hell I even got here. I went to talk to him as I knew how frustrated he was about what Max has been doing to him.

How Max is literally paying him to keep Michael from doing what he loves.

Which is wrestling.

"Michael?" I stood in front of him and looked up at the mountain of a man as he was working out.

"What Little One?" I gulped at the tone of his voice. Oh no, I wasn't scared. I was turned on. Just like every other damn time I am around him.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked. He paused in mid-set and looked at me. I just smiled up at him.

"No." Was his answer. I rolled my eyes at him.

"Oh come on. It has to be better than you trying to kill yourself by working out." I told him as I crossed my arms.

"Working out helps me to work out my frustrations."

"Well as we can clearly see from the security guards that have to be taken to the hospital, I am sure it isn't working."

"What do you suggest then YN?" He put down the weights and sat down. Now I look down at him, but not by much. Must be focused if he isn't using the nickname.

"Find another outlet because this isn't working."

"And what do you think I should do?" He asked me with one eyebrow raised. How I wanted to slap and kiss the look off of his face at the same time.

"Do yoga. Take a hot bath. Go to the sauna. Go shopping. Fuck someone. I don't know."

"And who would that someone be?" Of course the last one caught his attention.

"I don't know. Anyone in their right mind would want you Michael."

"Anyone Little One? Is that including you." His eye raked over my body and I gulped.

"Like I said, anyone." He just looked at me for a few moments and then he reached into his bag and pulled out a card and placed it in my hand.

I looked at it and realised it was the spare key card to his hotel room.

"If you're serious about this, just know one thing Little One."

"And what is that Michael?"

"I need you and I want you. Butt naked. In my bed. Right now." My breath caught in my throat, not fully believing this is actually happening.

"You better be there when I get up there YN. I don't like to be kept waiting." And with that I practically ran up to his hotel room and let myself in.

♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡

Michael wasn't even twenty minutes and he had me naked, lifting me up by my ass as his mouth did wonders to my pussy.

My hands were grasping his hair, hanging on for dear life as he ate me out. At one point I closed my eyes and he stopped.

"Don't you dare. Keep those eyes open Little One and on me." I struggled to do as he asked but I did.

His stare was intense as he looked up at me and I down at him. His hands which were still holding me up by my ass, were gripping the cheeks so hard that I am sure I will be sore tomorrow.

"Oh shit Michael." I gasped as his mouth wrapped around my clit and gently sucked. I was so close but every single time I was about to cum, he pulled his mouth away not caring about my frustration and the tears streaming down my face.

I was almost there and just as I was about to cum, he pulled his gorgeous face away for the last time.

He laid me on the bed and took off his clothing. My mouth watering as I finally saw what I have only dreamed about and I whimpered as I knew I didn't give him justice.

I figured he was big, but this big? Hell no.

His hand was wrapped around his cock as he jerked it off. My body felt like it was shaking as he came closer and closer.

He laid down next to me and lifted me into his arms once more and laid me on top of him.

"Michael I don't think it will fit." As the head of his cock prodded my pussy, getting it nice and wet so he can slide in.

"It will fuckin' fit." He growled as he pushed in. My mouth fell open as he slowly lowered me down. Sinking his cock in me, inch by inch.

He didn't wait for me to get settled as he just used my body like I said for him to do earlier. His thrusts were powerful and hard.

His pace was fast, oh so fast. I am pretty sure I am seeing stars. I can't even think straight as I am laying across his chest.

"So tight. Shit. You're mine now Little One. No one else can have you. Your holes are mine. I'm gonna fuck your mouth and then I am gonna fuck your ass."

Nothing coherent left my mouth. To me it sounded like gibberish as he continued to tell me what he was gonna do to me and I wanted it all.

With one hard thrust, my whole body was shaking as I came. My pussy gripping his cock in an almost vice like grip.

He chocked out my name as he stilled and his cum flodded my pussy as my orgasm was just ebbing off.

He pulled me off of him and laid me down next to him. Michael pulled into his arms.

"I am serious. You are mine now YN."

Tag List: if you would like to be added, please let me know. @lghockey @wwenhlimagines @hungmanhorsecarriage @crowleysqueenofhell @thenerdybaker523 @eddie-kingstons-wifey @cuzimacomedian

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Flufftober '23 | Masterlist

Hi! Welcome to the Masterlist of my participation in Flufftober 2023, hosted by @flufftober! 🖤

On this Masterlist you'll find the prompts I've filled along the way, which will combine angst, fluff, and smut. Each one shot will have their own appropriate warnings when necessary. All stories will be 'x Fem!Reader' unless specified otherwise.

If you want to check out all my other works, you can find them on my Main Masterlist. For now I hope you will have fun with all the fanfics I'm creating during my first time participating in Flufftober! 🧡

I chose not to work with a tag list. If you want to be updated when I post new fanfics, you can follow @nicoline1998enilocin-library 🖤

Divider made by @cafekitsune | Header & 18+ banner made by yours truly

I want to thank @ccbsrmsf1 because I could not have finished this challenge without your amazing help! From providing the most amazing and drool-worthy GIFs to coming up with the sweetest ideas and the best titles, you have helped me more than I can ever show you. I love you so much, and again, I can not thank you enough for all the work you did for my Flufftober Challenge! ❤️

🥀 = Angst | 🧡 = Fluff | 🔥 = Smut

Day 1 | It'll be okay | 🥀 🧡 | Chris Evans Prompt: ''I've got you'' After nearly a decade of being together, you're going through an intense breakup, so you're at a loss about what to do with yourself. Luckily for you, your best friend Chris knows exactly what to do to make you feel better, and you're very thankful to have him in your life.

Day 2 | I do! Again! | 🧡 🔥 | Robert Downey Jr. Prompt: Family, friends, loved ones Your 10th wedding anniversary with Robert is coming up, and he is planning a special vacation for you and your little family, though it'll have a twist you will know about once you arrive. He ensures every last detail is perfect, and it will become a vacation you'll never forget.

Day 3 | Together, forever | 🥀 🧡 🔥 | Iron Man!Tony Stark Prompt: ''Wait, you love me?'' - ''I've always loved you'' You and Tony have been head over heels in love with one another for as long as you can remember. It isn't until someone is injured and nearly loses their life that your feelings come out, and both of you wish you would have shared your feelings sooner, especially after seeing how fragile human life is.

Day 4 | Perfect coincidence | 🧡 | Bucky Barnes Prompt: Have your characters share the last table at a café You find yourself in a rainstorm and seek refuge in a warm-looking coffee shop. When there's only one table left, you share it with a handsome stranger who introduces himself as Bucky Barnes and his fluffy white cat, Alpine. What started as one of the worst days quickly became one of the best.

Day 7 | Swinging together | 🧡 | Tony Stark Prompt: Porch swing You have always dreamt of having a porch swing on your porch, and now that you and Tony are moving into your new house, this is the perfect opportunity. He will do anything to build it before your baby boy arrives and complete your little family.

Day 8 | Dancing in the rain | 🧡 | Loki Laufeyson Prompt: Rainy day Both you and Loki decide to make the best of a rainy day. He starts the day with breakfast in bed, and you decide to bake him a pumpkin pie in the afternoon. When you suddenly want to dance in the rain with him, something shifts between you, and you can't keep your hands off one another.

Day 10 |Mile High Club | 🧡 🔥 | Iron Man!Tony Stark Prompt: Love of my life You and Tony have been in a secret relationship for the past seven months, and you're being sent on the first mission for just the two of you since you've become an Avenger. Seeing how the two of you will have nothing but time during the long flight to the other side of the world, he wants nothing more than to make you a part of the Mile High Club.

Day 11 | Chocolate lovers | 🥀 🧡 🔥 | Young!Tony Stark Prompt: Sweet tooth + Hot chocolate Your daughter, Orion, has been wanting hot chocolate as a treat for a while now, and you and Tony are finally giving her just that. Though Tony's sweet tooth craves something much sweeter, he can't help but make it even more delicious by adding some sweet chocolate syrup.

Day 12 | Spin The Bottle | 🧡 🔥 | Robert Downey Jr. Prompt: ''Oh no, you're a morning person!'' Robert has been your best friend for a few years, and the sexual tension between both of you has only grown stronger. When, after an innocent game of Spin The Bottle, the small, flickering fire officially bursts out into a sea of flames, you experience the most satisfying, gentle, and perfect first time together you could have wished for.

Day 14 | My favorite piece of art | 🧡 | Bucky Barnes Prompt: ''I hate it'' - ''No you don't'' You've been trying to get Bucky to model for you for the longest time. When he finally agrees, you decide to go all out and make a beautiful painting of him to highlight everything you love about him. When he sees the end result, he can't help but joke about it, but deep inside, he's very moved and touched that you did this for him.

Day 16 | Lullaby | 🧡 | Andy Barber Prompt: Singing one another to sleep After a long, stressful day at work, there's nothing you enjoy more than sitting next to your husband, Andy, when he's playing the piano and singing to you. These moments work like a charm to get you to fall asleep, and you two lovingly call them your own lullaby.

Day 17 | A new start | 🧡 | Ari Levinson Prompt: Encouraging s.o. to reach a goal You've always dreamt of turning your career around, starting in a new field. When you mention this idea to your husband, Ari, he is very supportive in the best way he knows how to be.

Day 19 | We'll always protect you | 🥀 🧡 | Steve Rogers Prompt: Keeping someone safe Steve's dream has always been to become a Dad, and suddenly, that opportunity seems closer than he could ever have envisioned. When a little girl is abandoned in front of the Avengers Compound, he can't help but take an immediate liking to her, and he feels the urge to keep her safe no matter what.

Day 20 | Spooky celebration | 🧡 | Sebastian Stan Prompt: Pumpkin You moved to the U.S. not too long ago, and this year will be your first Halloween celebration there. When your friend Sebastian finds out you’ve never celebrated it, he's taking out all the stops to make your first Halloween a spooky celebration to never forget.

Day 22 | Apple picking | 🧡 | Young!Tony Stark Prompt: Picking You've grown up with the tradition of going apple picking each fall, and now that you and Tony have your own little family, you want to keep this tradition going. As you, Tony, Orion, and Hudson go to a local apple farm during an apple-picking event, you're soaking up every second and enjoying every moment.

Day 23 | A beautiful collection | 🧡 🔥 | Ari Levinson Prompt: Trinket Whenever you and Ari visit a new place together during a vacation, you two search for the silliest magnets to add to your ever-growing collection. Usually, you're the one who brings them home, but this time, Ari has found a rather special one that you want to keep forever.

Day 25 | Reading nook | 🧡 | Steve Rogers Prompt: Nook You recently moved into a new house that'll accommodate you and your growing family, but your one wish in the new house has yet to come true. You've wanted a reading nook for a long time, and when you're away on business, Steve decided to surprise you by making the reading nook of your dreams.

Day 26 | Love by the fire | 🧡 | Iron Man!Tony Stark Prompt: Fireplace Tony has taken you for a weekend away to a small cabin in the woods where it'll just be the two of you, and no one around for miles to interrupt. The weather outside is cold, but the atmosphere inside the cabin is almost reaching it's boiling point as you two can't keep your hands off each other.

Day 29 | I'll always be by your side | 🥀 🧡 | Iron Man!Tony Stark Prompt: ''Hey! Wake up!'' What was supposed to be a comfortable, easy Sunday turned into one of the worst as you're caught off guard by your period and in horrible pain. Luckily, your boyfriend, Tony, is by your side to make you feel better and spoil you absolutely rotten.

Day 31 | Spiked candy | 🧡 | Iron Man!Tony Stark Prompt: Dreams do come true You've had a crush on Tony for as long as you can remember, but you didn't know he also has one on you. During his annual Halloween party, he makes a move using a project he's been working on for a long time, and they have precisely the desired effect because you couldn't be happier the morning after. Your dream of being his might finally come true after all.

[peakyblindersxx]

whiskey business - john x reader (part 3 of ?)

gif by @michaelgreys but i cropped it cause god daMn 👀

read part one and two! | my masterlist

a/n: this one goes out to all my john bitches!! i know it's hard out here, we get no new content but this part is steamy as hell. its not over yet, though! i'm a sucker for happy endings, ok? i hope you all like it, i'm still working on requests as i go :) much love to @stxdyblr-2k for ghostwriting on this series, she has the most amazing ideas in the world 🖤

love, abi xxx

tagging: @datewithgianni

prompt: john's been ignoring you and you want to know why.

warnings: fluff, angst, nsfw!! smut, cocky john, just straight up porn at the end but can you blame me

John hadn't spoken a word in your direction for a week. Despite constantly seeing you glued to Ada's hip, he’d barely acknowledged you since the wedding. He didn’t even bother looking up. Instead his jaw tensed, taking longer inhales of smoke, constantly examining the pocket watch dangling from his right hip. You were the last person John wanted to see right now. He couldn’t get you out of his head, the flush of your cheeks as you had moaned for him imprinted in his memory. You were fucking picturesque writhing around in his lap, a mess for him, and only him. He’d never felt like this; never wanted someone so badly it hurt. Usually, he drowned what little emotions he had in the nearest bottle of whiskey. You, however, were igniting something inside him he’d never felt. Lust, yes, but it was more. A yearning, a need, to see you smile at his crap jokes for the rest of his fucking life. God, you were getting to him.

His coldness and distance towards you hadn't gone unnoticed. To John’s embarrassment, his brothers regularly referred to it as "a little tiff", usually when you were within earshot, as they loved embarrassing his brother. They were blissfully unaware of the full story, assuming his cockiness had put you off him. He sometimes wondered the same; even though you remained polite by greeting him despite the minimal nod he responded with, you seemed ashamed. John only hoped it wasn't because you were ashamed of him. The truth was, he couldn't get the intensity between the two of you off his mind. Whenever he so much as caught a glimpse of you, he remembered how pretty you looked begging for him, then the embarrassment of having to reject you out of family loyalty. You admitting you wanted to have sex with him, him getting fucked off at you because you were off your face, complicating everything. Yet, every night, he held your words close to him, trying to decipher them.

He knew his brothers wouldn't get it. They wouldn't understand how tragic it was; they'd think it was funny that Ada's best friend wanted to fuck him. Either way, John would always rather put himself in the firing line of his brother's jokes than risk your reputation being blemished. He just couldn't look at you without a wave of guilt and sexual attraction flowing through his veins, causing his jaw to clench and his shoulders to stiffen, his suit jacket expertly covering strain on the crotch of his trousers.

A full week had passed since the wedding, of a man Tommy had recruited in an assassination effort. It was embarrassing how his family used money to attempt to push the trauma they created under the carpet. He knew he didn't have room to talk, but fuckin’ hell, a wedding? Maybe Tommy should've just not hired him to blow the brains out of his own father. Well, it was one way to get rid of the police commissioner who got too nosey, John guessed.

He had hoped that you were a passing phase of infatuation. He’d had many before; he’d been notorious around Birmingham for his conquests. Sure, it was possible he had just gotten overly excited and intoxicated around a beautiful girl. Yet, in the quiet moments of his life, in between his kids and business, his mind was only on you. You, straddling him in that booth, the way you grinned at him as he approached you at the wedding party. Sometimes when he was driving home, his mind would drift off thinking of the feeling of your figure pressed against him, the feel of your lips, your laugh, the sound of your heaving breaths against his ear. You haunted him the most at night, visions of you with his name on your lips in his silk sheets. You were his forbidden fruit, dangling barely out of reach.

***

John was at his desk, paperwork long abandoned in favour of whiskey and a cigar, lost in his own thoughts. The loud tapping of rain and the wind of the storm outside shook the windows, yet John felt somewhat at peace; a temporary peace, but he could unwind. Just his desk, the moonlight, the gas lamp illuminating his empty glass and the heavy English rain for company. He found far more joy in the simplicity of life than his brothers, who reeked of new money. He liked his things the way they were, it all worked, but he had to admit he was a sucker for a good suit. The kids were long in bed, the nanny to comfort their nightmares. It made him feel like a shit father, and he didn't want to be like his useless dad. He had started resenting the life Thomas was forcing him to live; the booze, the partying, the Tokyo, the fighting. It was wearing on him. He needed a break from everyone in this town, he reckoned.

However, a certain unexpected guest was always welcome to him. You had just drifted across his mind when a firm knock at the door caught his attention. He straightened his tie, leaving his legs outstretched and crossed on the dark oak desk, calling for the visitor to enter.

There you were. Dripping from head to toe, but still as beautiful as ever to him, despite your damp hair and slightly smudged makeup. You had caught him off guard, and in his surprise, he couldn't suppress the cheeky grin which spread across his face.

"Got caught in the storm, eh? I'll put the fire on and pour you a drink yeah? Warm you up." He slurred slightly, springing into action, lighting the fire and going to fill two glasses with whiskey, which you politely refused.

"I'm not drinking tonight, Mr. Shelby."

He decides he won't either. He tried to ignore your piercing gaze, motioning you to sit across his desk from him, reaching to put the whiskey in his drawer. "That's not like you. Where you headed, love? That lecture with Ada?"

"I came to see you."

He noted your firm tone, the flirty smile, the coy eye contact.

"What's the occasion?"

"You've been avoiding me." You told him bluntly, his cheeks reddening, eye contact breaking momentarily.

"Yeah, I know." He took a draw from his cigar, rolling the smoke from between his lips on the exhale. "M’sorry."

You watched him for a moment and he met your eyes, suddenly softened from his usual icey blue inquisitive stare. To shame, he looked so vulnerable right now. You could feel yourself falling for him again. This is what you hung around for, the fleeting glimpses of the authentic John Shelby. The lad you'd first giggled about in the girl's bathroom at lunch, barely knowing what sex was. Barely understanding power and politics. Unaware of who you'd both end up as.

"You're fucking soaked to the bone. Come on, I'll put your clothes to dry by the fire. And don't give me that look, I'll give you my coat to save your modesty, lass." He teased. You ignored the way his muscles flexed as he reached for his woolen jacket, some outrageously expensive tailored affair from some London boutique, his large rough hands brushing your fingers. "I'll turn around."

You grasped the coat, heading to the fireplace and warming up for a moment, checking that you were far from his line of sight. This was a dangerous game for you both. You wished he'd grab you, take you on his desk and finish what he started, but the way he absentmindedly drummed his fingers on the desk as he waited indicated that he was restraining himself.

You'd rid yourself of your thin jacket, bought from the market stall last week, effortlessly trendy but an imitation of the pricey stuff Ada and the blinder wives and girlfriends you knew. You were jealous of their fur coats, they were always warm and glamorous looking even on the coldest winter night in Birmingham.

You glanced across the room to John. He was staring intently at the wall lost in thought, teeth gritted.

"John? Could you unzip me?" You asked, purposefully making your voice sound as neutral as possible, looking at him over your shoulder.

He paused, bringing his fingers to rub circles against his jaw. You caught a glimpse of white teeth and dimples as he glanced at you out the corner of his eye and you can't help but match his coy grin. He pushed himself off the desk and quickly closed the small distance towards you, his hand finding first your shoulder then the zip at the nape of your neck, your breath hitching as he pulled the zip to your waist. You could feel his eyes tracing the curvature of your spine and hips. You both hesitated for a moment, before John’s warm fingertips grazed your waist, lips pressing into your hair affectionately. His mouth found his way to your ear, cheekbone, jaw and then neck, encouraged by the way your left hand cradled his head as you pressed your body back into his and how your eyes drifted shut at his touch.

"Sweetheart, why did you come here?" He muttered into your ear, his words and casual affection causing your core to swell in response.

"Couldn't stop thinking about you. I've barely slept in a week, feel terrible. Then you've been ignoring me-"

"It isn't personal, Y/N. You know this isn’t how I want it to be." His hands found their way to your waist, gripping lightly at your hip bones, sending a shiver down your back.

"Well this is how it is, John. It's never going to be any different. So, what are you going to do about it?"

"What are you fucking on about, love?"

"I reckon that just once can't hurt, nobody would know but us. Then we can both move on with our lives..."

John hesitated, "What about Ada?" His head rested on your shoulder, the scent of your sweet perfume causing him to want you even more. Jesus, he was too far gone.

"We were so close the first night I got here and we didn't. No one caught on then, why would it be different now?"

He wanted to trust you so badly, it ached inside of him. He wanted to feel you around him, make you cum for him again and again, for you to be breathless and shaking under him. He wanted to give you everything he could, even if just once. But he couldn't.

"She's my sister. Family is everything; if I don't have them, I’ve got nothin’." He stated firmly, yet his palms lingered on your hips, the liquor destroying his perception of the distinction between friendly touching and actions that made you swallow deeply and pray for relief.

"You have me for tonight." You pulled away from him, ignoring the groan that escaped from his lips at the loss of contact. You locked your eyes with his blue ones and pushed the straps of your dress from your shoulders, allowing the damp material to pool around your feet, standing in front of the man you'd wanted for years. It was now or never.

He stayed silent, watching you, eyes not leaving yours, challenging you for a brief moment before his eyes flickered over your figure.

"Is it such a crime to want to fuck you?" You asked, the silk of your skimpy underwear forcing John to wipe the corner of his mouth absentmindedly as he drank you in, mumbling profanities under his breath. Yet, despite the glances and his sudden frustration, you could tell you had him. His eyes were feral and hungry, daring you to keep pushing him. His shoulders were squared, he was ready for action. The crackling firelight illuminated you beautifully; you were irresistible to him.

"It's not a crime. Where'd you get this backbone from?" He asked, reaching for you but you stepped away, teasing him.

"University up north does sommet to a woman."

"You can fuck off or fuck me with that attitude."

"The latter if you behave yourself, Mr Shelby."

He smirked at you, holding his hands up in mock surrender, before wrapping his coat around your shoulders, pulling you towards him by the back of the collar. "You've got a mouth on you, love. You gonna put it to good use?"

"I was told months ago that you'd sort me out, John-" Your speech was interrupted by a small squealing giggle as he tugged at your hair lightly for mocking his voice, his eyes bright and crinkled at the edges due to his grin. "I'm disappointed with these delays, especially from the Shelby Company."

"Well, as the boss, I'll sort it for you, personally and immediately. Let me make it up to you, lass," John crooned, his lips meeting yours once again, fingers pushing your thighs apart, still clad in your black stockings and garter belt. "This is where we got up to last time, yes?"

"Yes Mr. Shelby, I believe so."

He pressed his lips and teeth against where your jaw met your neck, tracing his index and middle fingers over the silk of your underwear which covered your slit. You couldn’t help but lean into him, a slight hiss escaping your teeth.

"You like that, huh? You're fuckin’ soaked for me already, love," John muttered against your neck, lifting your left leg to hook around his waist, easily lifting you onto his desk, scattering loose papers and heavy accounting books onto the floor in his urgency to feel your bare skin on his. "They teach you how to push a bloke over the edge at that fancy university?"

"No, I figured that out on my own actually."

"Always knew you were bright," He smirked, quickly ridding you of your flimsy panties, the pads of his fingertips hot against your thighs. "Always going for the ones smarter than me, Tommy reckons it's not difficult."

"Your brother's chatting shit, he's not the one ‘bout to fuck me on his desk, yeah?" You shot back, opening your thighs to encourage him, your cunt exposed, cutting off John’s laugh. He couldn’t help but stare, eyes glued to your dripping cunt. "You're my favourite brother, always have been. If you tell Finn, I'll kill you," You teased.

"Come off it," John grunted in reply, unable to restrain pressing kisses to your inner thighs, your head tilting back, fingers desperately clutching at his hair. “Need t’get a proper taste of you, yeah? Look so fuckin’ sweet for me.” His mouth reached your core, slowly dipping his tongue into you, causing your mouth to fall open in ecstasy. God, his lips were even softer than they looked. His movements switched from light and teasing to purposeful and focused, his fingers curled and pumping inside you, tongue and thumb attacking your clit. He'd gotten on his knees, your legs wrapped around his neck as he groaned into your cunt, causing you to buck your hips wildly at the sensation, moans falling out of your mouth.

“Fuckin’ christ, John,” You swore, feeling yourself pulsate and twitch around his nimble fingers, crying out into the empty office building. You were getting so close, your hips jerking independently, chest heaving as you gasped for air. You were quickly getting overstimulated, you were so close. Before you could finish, John raised his head back to yours, letting you taste yourself on his mouth, his hands moving from your cunt to your tits, finger tips tracing the outline of your nipples through your silk bra.

"If we get to do this once, I want to feel you finish on my cock, doll," John grunted in a hushed tone, pointedly moving his lips to your collarbone when you opened your mouth to argue back to him.

"Then I get to ride you." Your statement took him by surprise; most women he'd slept with seemed fairly passive in bed. Sure they enjoyed themselves, but they never took control. He could feel himself swell in response to your words. He'd never been put in this position; he was a stranger to it, but the idea was thrilling and wickedly seductive. Especially from someone who was the epitome of "girl-next-door" as they were growing up.

"Polly reckoned you'd be trouble since Ada told us you'd returned. Don't mind getting into trouble with you, though," He teased, his plump mouth dipping to your cleavage, unclasping your bra, tongue circling your hardening nipples.

"John, fuckin’ christ, need you to finish me off, yeah?" You begged, voice shaking, much to his amusement, his fingers re-entering you roughly. John pressed open-mouthed kisses to your neck, soothing your body from the sharp sensation, the slight pain exacerbating the pleasure arising from his mouth and fingers.

"I've barely started with you, and already you're begging for me to fuck you." He muttered into your skin, as he watched you writhe and lift your hips, reacting beautifully to the feelings he was reawakening within you.

"John, m’not fucking about, yeah? I need you," You whined, hand resting on his inner thigh, fingers grazing the fastenings across his groin, gazing up at him from your seat on his desk. John hated waiting for relief, he had very little patience, and almost immediately he gave in and collapsed into his large armchair, pulling you on top of him, letting you pin his wrists to the chair and grind against him as your mouth found his, then his neck, removing his waistcoat, shirt and tie, revealing his muscular chest. The bruising kisses you pressed to his skin left him breathless and needing more, helping you unbuckle his belt and push his suit trousers down his legs. You couldn’t help but take him into your hand, moving it up and down his sensitive shaft.

“Christ, you’re too fuckin’ good at this,” John groaned as you spit on your palm to better move your hand up and down his cock, teasing the sensitive tip with your fingers and tongue. He couldn’t help but watch you, keeping eye contact as you toyed with him, blue eyes heavy with pleasure and lust for more.

You angled your hips above him and he adjusted himself, using his hand to better push himself inside you. You yelped lightly as you adjusted to his girth, his mouth distracting you by pressing kisses on your shoulder and tangling his hands through your hair, trying to control his breaths as you adjusted to him, soft moans falling from your mouth, your tight cunt gripping his cock.

“S’fuckin’ perfect, like your pussy was made for me,” he groaned, breath growing heavier with the sensation of you grinding against him. Pushing his hips up into you, he couldn’t help but grab at your hip bones, grip burning into your skin, bouncing you on his cock, mouth slightly slack, groaning as he grasped at your flesh. You’d imagined hundreds of times how fucking irresistible John would look underneath you, but it was nothing compared to the real thing.

The thrill of having John Shelby with his trousers down in his office, quickly dissolving into a moaning and grunting mess with every rotation or twist of your hips, in the midst of a stormy night while the thunder echoed around the empty streets below was almost too much to take. You should be home right now, curled up in that empty unheated flat, behaving yourself. Even on a date or fucking someone else. But instead you'd gone to him and now you were riding him. You wanted the moment to last forever, right now everything felt so right, you knew when it was over the guilt would hit. But you couldn't avoid it, you could feel your legs start to shake.

“Look so god damn pretty ridin’ me, love. Makin’ me wanna cum inside you.” John growled, panting, struggling to keep pace as you moaned on top of him. Your fingers found his jawline and guided him to look up at you, craving to see how his face looked when he finally came undone. He reached between your legs, torturing your clit with his fingers while he slammed into you a few extra times, using up the rest of his energy. The extra stimulation pushed you over the edge, crying out John’s name as you felt yourself release. Watching you whine his name was the last straw for him, spilling into you as your dripping cunt squeezed him, reveling in the image of you a mess for him.

***

You finally came back to your senses, catching your breath, John clutching you to his chest protectively for a minute or two, enjoying the tranquility and post-sex clarity. He checked his clock, sighing and lifting you from his lap to his desk, running a towel under the sink in the corner of his room and passing it to you to clean up between your legs with.

"Charming," You smirked, tired but satisfied. "No wonder the ladies always come back for more."

"Not you though, aye? One night only exclusive, this." He matched your playful tone, but his eyes were dull with exhaustion and he looked almost upset. He was probably just knackered after working all day and then going overtime just to please you.

"Make yourself useful and grab my clothes for me John-lad." You teased, thankfully changing the subject. He rolled his eyes in the waning firelight, locating the clothes the two of you had left scattered around the room. You quickly dressed, not caring how he watched you silently, as though trying to memorize the image of you. Your clothes were far drier than earlier, the last remaining remnants of damp clutching to the fibers and freezing you all over again. Yet before you could even comment, John's wool coat was wrapped back around your shoulders.

"Because you're cold, not because you look fuckable in it." He said pointedly, smirking slightly, the edges seeming artificial.

"Remind me not to fall madly in love with you. Won't be able to help myself if you keep talking like that, Mr. Shelby." You retorted sarcastically with a grin, earning a gentle dig to the ribs.

"It's Mr. Shelby if you're trying to fuck me. John is between friends and family, right?"

"Someone better inform Mr. Solomons of that distinction, then," You paused, "Mr. Shelby."

"Don't be a fucking cocktease." He scolded with a small grin, grabbing his car keys and hat from the door. "You want a lift then? Don't dick about being polite, Y/N, it's fucking midnight, just accept it."

"Since you asked so nicely."

"You know you've got worse since you've been at uni? Too fast for us lot now." He teased, half serious, as he led you to his car. He couldn't believe the beautiful woman in his passenger seat was the girl with pigtails who'd chase Ada around the canal with their girl gang for hours, the pretty teen who read for hours in his sister's bedroom, comparing notes together. No one was surprised you got a scholarship to university, despite your gender and class. You'd been incredibly lucky. Yet, you'd seen the world and had come back to Birmingham and picked him.

Shame you could only pick him once.