#this was really an excuse to draw them in slutty shirts

[khoipalloi]

Thought tumblr would appreciate the bros being hoes

[eusuntgratie]

I’m shocked that no one has written a fic to this. Eddie purposely putting on his tightest white sweater to show off his body to buck at the dinner scene right in front of bucks girlfriend cause he wants to get a reaction from buck. Why has no one done the slutty Eddie fic? Can you do it?

I can indeed, nonnie 😘 I did get feelings all over this because I can’t help it. We’re hand waving canon a bit here; Eddie’s already in therapy so he’s well enough to be a little slutty without that being catastrophic for both of them. Hope you like it!

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Buck has to make himself pause on the doorstep, to wait, to knock like a friend coming over for dinner instead of letting himself in like someone who used to half live here. He takes a second to gather himself before raising his hand to knock. Tells himself it will be fine. Eddie invited them over, and while it’s no secret that he’s not Taylor’s biggest fan, it has to mean something, right? That tonight’s dinner is some kind of olive branch?

Eddie swings open the door and smiles, and something is just a little off, just a hair to the right of his actual smile. He files that away, makes a mental note to get him alone and make sure he’s okay, but his train of thought is derailed when he notices what Eddie’s wearing. Buck’s pretty sure he’s seen the full spectrum of his wardrobe, but this shirt is definitely new. Eddie’s wearing a white henley that’s clinging to his arms and his chest and is it really that fucking see-through or is he just losing his mind? He drags his gaze up from the vicinity of his chest to find Eddie smirking at him.

“Hey, man,” he says, eyes passing over him. “Come on in. Taylor.” He nods at her in greeting and she gives him one of her fake news smiles. Eddie says he needs ten minutes, but won’t let Buck come help, so he joins Chris in the living room, and catches up on everything he’s missed in the last week while Taylor perches awkwardly on the couch. It’s jarring to see her here, in the Diaz house. He keeps forgetting she’s there as he laughs with Chris, getting the full update about school and trying to subtly ask about Eddie. Chris keeps glancing at her, and Buck’s starting to realize he’s not going to get much of anything out of his boys while Taylor is here.

Eddie leans into the doorway to tell them dinner’s ready and Buck’s brain blue screens. He’s beautiful. Of course Eddie is beautiful, Buck knows that, but he’s just- it’s arresting. He looks tired still, but lighter. He’s back in therapy, by choice this time, and Buck knows he’s still struggling but he just looks- lighter. He looks more him than maybe he ever has with the new haircut that’s been slowly driving Buck crazy. The neckline of his thin white shirt keeps drawing Buck’s eye to his collarbones, the notch at the base of his neck. Buck shakes his head to clear it and beams back at Eddie.

“Can’t wait!”

He nearly trips over the coffee table when Eddie turns around. His jeans are tight, and Buck can’t quite keep himself from staring at his ass as he trails into the kitchen to grab the last plate of food.

Dinner is…nice. He’s so happy to be here with his boys, ribbing Eddie with Chris and complimenting Eddie on his cooking.

“I can’t believe you learned to cook, man. This is so good. I’m coming over every day I’m off, m’kay?”

Eddie laughs and flashes him a warm smile.

“Sure, Buck.”

Taylor makes an odd noise and Buck turns to look at her. He keeps forgetting she’s here. She looks so out of place in this house. She’s pushing her food around on her plate, hair and makeup perfectly done, sitting on the very edge of her chair, like she’s hoping for a work emergency to give her an excuse to bolt. When her phone rings twenty minutes later, she’s snapping it up and apologizing and heading out the door before it even stops.

“I’ll call an Uber, okay? I’m so sorry, Eddie! Thank you for dinner!” she calls back to them.

Eddie looks at her full plate and then right at Buck and smiles at him. Like he knows she doesn’t just not fit here, but that despite all his efforts she doesn’t quite fit with him either.

“You like your food,” Eddie says, sounding cocky.

Buck smiles around a mouthful of bread and veggies.

“It’s so good, Eddie, holy shit. I mean- sorry, Chris.” They both laugh, and Eddie smiles at him like he’s thinking something he won’t say out loud yet.

Buck helps Eddie clear the table after they eat. He’s got an honest to god plate of decorated cupcakes ready, and Buck thinks his heart might melt into the floor. He stops Eddie with a hand on his arm when he moves to carry the plate out. “Hey. Are you okay? I mean, really. When we got here you looked kinda - off.”

Eddie smiles at him, the real one that reaches his eyes, and leans into Buck’s space just enough for him to notice.

“Yeah, Buck. I’m good now.”

Buck was excited for the cupcakes, but finds himself hardly able to eat when he’s faced with Eddie in that goddamn shirt, licking icing off the side of his hand. He wants to trail his tongue over the little triangle of Eddie’s chest revealed by his shirt where the top button is undone. He wants to undo the rest, strip him out of his clothes, drive him crazy with his mouth. Show him how good he can make him feel.

Buck tries to focus on Chris, but his eyes and his mind won’t stop wandering back to Eddie. After they clean up and Buck plays a couple rounds of Chris’s new game with him, he helps Eddie finish the dishes.

“You want me to stay tonight?”

Eddie knows what’s behind that question. Are you still having nightmares? I want to be here for you. Help you. Be with both of you.

He smiles and leans against the counter, and Buck can’t quite keep his gaze from trailing down the length of his body before he drags it back up.

“No,” he says, sounding final, and Buck feels his chest tighten, worried that Eddie will shove him back out, that they’ll move backwards in this weird dance they’ve been doing for way too long. “Not tonight. Go home, Buck.”

Buck stutters out an, “uh, okay” and tries to keep the hurt off his face.

“Buck?”

“Yeah?”

Eddie’s expression is so soft and warm, Buck feels like he had to have missed something. “Break up with her.”

“What?”

“You aren’t happy, Buck. You don’t love her. She has to know that you don’t. You deserve to be happy. And uh- maybe… maybe I do too.”

“Eddie.”

He just smiles. “Go on, tell Chris goodnight. We’ll talk later, okay?”

“Eddie.”

He bites his lip.

“You cooked for me.”

“You think I did it for her?”

“Then why did you invite her here?”

“To show you what you won’t look at. To make sure I was right.”

Buck means to bite it back, but “you wear that shirt for me, too?” slips out of his mouth before he can stop it.

Eddie looks down at the ground by his feet, then looks up at Buck.

“Maybe. You like it? It’s new.”

“I do,” Buck breathes, frozen where he’s standing.

“Go home, Buck. We’ll talk later. Yeah?”

“Yeah, I- yeah. Thanks, Eddie.”

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[illfoandillfie]

Kinktober Day 4: Bimbofication + Cockwarming

Kinktober Masterlist | Regular Masterlist

Pairing: Roger Taylor x Fem!Reader

Words: 3,164

Warnings: Bimbofication/intelligence play, hypnosis/trance state, cockwarming

A/N: This fic is very much set in my Future Management universe though I think you could get away with not having read the others. I’ve missed writing these two tbh and then I saw that one of the prompts for day 4 was bimbofication and decided it was a good enough excuse to get back to them. But I also really loved the second prompt for day 4, cockwarming, so decided to mix the two together!

After the long week you’d both been dealing with, you and Roger were glad to have a weekend to yourselves to relax. You’d spent too many nights out at various political functions, lobbying politicians and trying to convince the wealthy elite to donate to your cause. It was frustrating though and despite the numerous late nights and all your best efforts, it didn’t feel like you’d got particularly far. Roger had returned to the studio that week to begin recording Queen’s next album, so he was having a better time than you had been, though by all accounts everyone had been a little on edge as the week drew to a close. He’d come home complaining about how snippy everyone had been and how little progress they’d made that day. It was nice just to curl up on the couch together and zone out in front of the telly, not least because recently you’d barely found time to just be together without interruptions. It wasn’t a problem exactly, and you’d known you’d have patches like that when you first started seeing each other, but the lack of intimacy and physical affection created by your busy schedules did take its toll. So, on Friday night, Roger took great joy in turning off the alarm clock, deciding you could both use a lie in. You were too exhausted to even suggest anything more than talking before you went to sleep, but Roger made sure he was spooning you as you settled down, holding you tight.  

Roger was still asleep as you woke, carefully detangling yourself so you could tiptoe to the bathroom, but he offered you a sleepy grin when you came back.   “Sorry, did I wake you?” “Maybe a little. Thought we were going to lie in.” He pouted at you as if you’d betrayed him.   “I had to pee!” you laughed, “But I’m all for lying in now.”   Roger chuckled along with you as he beckoned you over, encouraging you to lay your head on his chest as you snuggled back up. His hand found yours, softly tracing the length of your fingers as he sighed happily.   “I missed this,” he half whispered, pulling your hand up so he could kiss your knuckles.   You hummed in agreement. For someone who’d not been in the habit of sharing your bed or encouraging physical contact, you’d certainly gotten used to Roger’s touch. He’d thoroughly converted you as the relationship became more serious, made you see how nice it was to be held, how comforting his hand in yours could be. And you had missed it over the last week when there’d not seemed to be enough time for those soft, quiet moments with him. You’d sat next to uninterested politicians who nodded politely at what you said but never offered anything useful, and thought about how nice it’d be to feel Roger kiss your temple or squeeze your thigh. And then your mind had taken it further, reminding you how warm you got when his weight was over you, how it felt to fill your lungs with his breath and to taste him on your lips. You shifted at the idea and realised you weren’t the only one who wanted more than just to relax. Scooting away from Roger so you could better face him, you began to suggest you could maybe slip down under the covers and help him get properly excited, but before you got more than a few syllables out he was talking about a different idea.  “So, I’ve been thinking about something I thought might be fun to try with my bimbo doll.”  “Oh?” You weren’t entirely sure how you felt about that. On one hand you loved when Roger turned you brainless and cock-crazed, how fun it was and how freeing. But this was the first time you’d really been able to be together in a little while. What did it say about the state of your relationship or his opinion of you, if he’d prefer your bimbo alter ego over the real you, “You want her?”  “Not necessarily right now,” he said, rubbing his knuckles softly against your cheek, “Not if you don’t want to. I’m happy staying like this with you all day.”  “Don’t pretend you don’t want to fuck. I want to fuck.”  Roger laughed, “Oh I definitely want to fuck. I’m just saying I’d be perfectly happy fucking beautiful, brainy, you, instead of the slutty idiot.”  You couldn’t help but smile at that.  “But it’s something I’ve thought about quite a lot. And I think it’d be kind of perfect for such a lazy morning.”  “Okay.” you said, thinking about it more, “I’m not entirely opposed to the whole bimbo thing. It might actually be nice to be a bit brainless, maybe even make it a bit easier to relax. Y’know, sort of keep me focused on enjoying the moment and really feeling everything. So why don’t you just tell me what the idea is and then I’ll know how up for it I am right now.”  “Hmmm. I thought maybe it could be a surprise. But don’t worry, it’s something we’ve done before. I’m just curious how she’d react to being made to do it.”  “Being made to?” you asked, raising your eyebrows in disbelief, “Is this something I like?”  “Oh yeah, definitely. Believe me, we’ve done this a few times before. Usually, it’s less part of sex and more to do with the aftercare or the foreplay.”  You tried to think of what he meant but nothing came to mind that fit the description. It was intriguing though. And you trusted Roger, you knew he wouldn’t take advantage or force you to do something you wouldn't normally do. If he said you enjoyed it then you must enjoy it usually.  Roger waited to see how you’d react.  “Nothing to lose?”  “Nothing to lose.” He said with a smile, “I promise it’ll be fun, love.”  “Okay, let’s do it. I’m insanely curious. But also, sometime later today or tonight, we’re going to have regular, non-bimbo, sex.”  “Anything you want. You ready?” 

You nodded and instantly felt Roger draw you back down so you were within easier reach. His fingers trailed lightly over your arms as he began to talk you down. You relaxed into the moment, letting his voice wash over you as his touch created goosebumps over your skin. As you closed your eyes your breathing began to soften and you felt the familiar drowsiness settle into your mind. Roger did his usual improvisation, making sure you knew how dumb you were, how easily confused and hopelessly idiodic you were. He made you understand that you couldn’t understand half of what he said, that you were just a giggly dummy who needed his help. And then, when he was sure you had gone brainless, he told you how horny you were. How all you could think about was his cock in every one of your holes, how desperately you ached for him, how being filled by him was your one goal in life. The only thing you needed or wanted. And how the longer you waited the hornier you got. He told you about being desperate and wet and you felt yourself grow desperate and wet as he said it though you couldn’t remember the word desperate. You tried you but just came up blank. The only world you could think of was cock. It flashed in your mind like a neon sign and just the thought of that word alone made your mouth water and you cunt ache.  You shifted, trying to rub your legs together, able to feel the slick forming between them as your stomach tightened with need. And then he told you one word, a simple word. No. He explained that every time he told you no, it was guaranteed to compound the horny desperation you felt.   “What’s co-com- ummm, com-pound?” You asked, confusedly.   “It means the feeling will get stronger. When I say no, you’ll get even hornier. Understand?”  “Yes,” you sighed, content now that he’d explained the hard word.  

By the time you blinked your eyes open, all you knew was that you wanted his cock. It was your very first thought and the first thing you said.   Roger looked at you, smiling, and greeted you. A pleasant, “Hi,” that made you feel warm and happy.  You’d smiled back, “Can I please have your cock Sir?”  That made Roger laugh, “No baby. That’s now what I want to do right now.”  Hearing him say that just made you want it more though.  “Please Sir? I could suck it for you. I really really really want to suck your cock.”  “No, I don’t think I want that either.”  You whined softly, “I promise I’m reallllllly good at it and I love sucking cock so much.”  “No. What else could you do instead?”  “Ummm,” it was hard to think, hard to remember anything beyond how horny you were, “Maybe I could ride you?”  “Hmmm, no.”  You groaned and clenched your hands into fists for a second as a bolt of energy ran through you, “Can I wank you?”  “No, baby, not that either.”  “Please Sir?”  “No.”  The bolt of energy ran through you again and you stomped your foot against the mattress to relieve some of the pressure.   “Keep suggesting things,” Roger grinned, “Maybe one of them might interest me.”  You scrunched your face up in concentration, trying to think of something Roger might like, “What about if you fucked me? I’d be so good and I’d stay so still and you could use my pussy and cum in me and-”  “No. No I don’t want that either.”  “But Siiiiiiir,” you whined, “You always tell me to take your cock!”  “Do I?”  “Yes!” you giggled, wondering how he could have forgotten, “You always say how good it feels in me.”  “I s’pose that’s true.”  “So can I have your cock now?”  “No.”  You whined and pouted but Roger didn’t budge.  “I’ll tell you what. Let’s start with taking your clothes off.”  “Okay Sir.” you nodded, giggling again at the idea, hoping it would lead to having one of your holes filled.  “Well go on then. Shirt off first, good girl.”  You rolled yourself off the bed and quickly began tearing off the pyjamas you were wearing, feeling hot as Roger’s gaze dragged over the newly exposed skin.   “Now undress me.”  You couldn't help but laugh as you crawled across the bed to reach him. He’d slept without a shirt so all you had to worry about were his flannel PJ pants and underwear pulling them down his legs one at a time. As his underwear came down your eyes fell to his cock, revealed inch by inch. You felt saliva pool in your mouth and had to resist the urge to lean forward and taste him.  “Can I touch you Sir?” you asked quietly, almost holding your breath as you waited for his answer.  “No.”  “Please?” you asked again, frustrated. Roger didn’t understand how bad you wanted it, how much you needed him. “I’ll do anything Sir, whatever you want.”  “No.”  With an impatient groan you threw yourself onto your stomach, beating your fists and feet against the mattress. It was the only way to relieve the energy and pressure building inside you.  But Roger just laughed, “Awww, is Dummy gonna have a tantrum? That’s not going to change my mind. My answer is still no.”  You whined and kicked your legs again, your pussy throbbing with how empty it was.  “You’re such a desperate slut, aren’t you Dummy.” Roger laughed again, “So maybe....”  You looked up excited and hopeful.  “I might decide to fuck you. Pin you down, fill you hard and deep and cum in you as many times as I can manage. Just to shut your whining up.”  You scrambled back to your knees and nodded happily, reaching to wrap your hand around Roger’s cock.  He slapped you away, “I said might, Dummy. That’s still a no. You’ll have to show me you deserve it. You’ll have to be a good bimbo doll and do everything I say. Can you do that?”  You whined but agreed you could. He didn’t need to make you promise to follow his orders. You’d have done that anyway. You’d have done anything he asked, anything to make him feel happy and pleased. 

“Sit up, hands behind your back. Show me your cunt.”  You scrambled to do as he asked, smiling proudly when he hummed at the sight of your spread legs and wrapped his fist around the base of his cock.  “You’re so wet Dummy. How’d that happen?”  You giggled again, “I told you I want you Sir.”  “Guess I didn’t realise how much,”  Your gaze fell to his hand and your breath caught as you watched him slowly stroke his length, stiffening more the longer your eyes were fixed on him. It just made everything worse. You couldn’t seem to drag your eyes away, nearly panting with desire. Wanting to touch yourself almost as much as you wanted to touch him.  “Oh you are desperate. I can see your cunt clenching around thin air and you’ve got drool on your chin. You don’t even care which hole I use.”  You shook your head. Whatever he wanted would make you happy because it’d make him happy.  “I could keep telling you no.”  A whimper slipped from your lips and you felt your pussy pulse with need.  “But maybe I’ll be generous. Lie down here, next to me. Good girl, now turn onto your side. No, other side, facing away from me. That’s right.”  “What are you doing Sir?” you asked over the creaking of the bed frame as Roger shifted around behind you. He didn’t answer though, just pressed himself against your back. You could feel his hard length being directed to your slit and you changed the position of your legs to make it easier for him.   “Good girl,” he said softly, his breath warm against your bare skin.  You moaned at the feeling of him moving between your legs, waiting for the sweet stretch of him filling you. Only it didn’t come. You could feel him between your lips, sliding easily through your soaked folds, every ridge and vein making you shudder. You tried to press back, to direct him into you, but his hand landed on your hip, forcing you to still.  “No.”  The word pulled another whine from you, louder than any before, exacerbated by how close he was to what you really wanted. But that just made Roger chuckle as he kept teasing you. It was pure torment, though worse was still to come.  

It took you completely by surprise when Roger stopped his teasing rubbing, readjusting his angle so he could sink into you slowly. The unexpectedness of it stole your breath but you managed to gasp out a small moan of thanks, finally getting what you’d been so desperate for. The position you lay in kept your bodies close as he sheathed himself fully, rocking his hips gently so as to withdraw a little and thrust back into you. You could have cried with joy at knowing you’d pleased your Sir, that you’d been so good and patient, and he’d finally decided to take what you’d offered him. And then he stopped. You tried to take over his rhythm, tried to fuck yourself on his cock the way you knew he liked. Last time you’d done that he’d praised you for being brainless and needy, called you a good bimbo whore and you’d kept going until he’d cum, laughing about how good it felt. But this time he stopped you. He pressed his hips flush against you and wrapped his arm tightly over the top of you.   “No, Dummy. No moving now.”  “But Sir,”  “No. Be good and lie still or I will make you,” He tapped the middle of your forehead with a finger, “Remember I have all the power.”  You didn’t know what he meant by that or why he’d tapped you but you knew how to be good. You knew how to please. And so you relaxed again and lay quiet and still, the way he wanted you.  “It’s still a little early for me to use you. I think I want to sleep a bit longer, so why don’t you stay here and warm my cock for me. It’ll keep me comfortable so I can sleep longer. And then when I’m better rested I’ll think about fucking you.”  You whined again, wanting to thrash your arms and legs again but unable to, wanting to be pinned down by your Sir and used, wanting to feel him move within you or to taste his cum or anything. But if that was what he wanted that was what you’d do, so you nodded and agreed softly.   Roger hummed happily which was all you needed to hear to feel happy too. He let out a tired exhale and seemed to still. You listened as his breath evened out into a shallow rhythm, and struggled to keep relaxed in his embrace. As far as you could tell he was asleep, though his hand seemed to come to life. His fingertips trailed over your skin, coming to rest on your chest. You tried to remain quiet but struggled not to moan as his hand cupped your breast and squeezed it. In response he moved slightly, though still slept on, his cock changing angle within you by a hair's breadth. In your state of heightened arousal it was enough to have you clenching again, trying not to wake Roger in case he got mad.  

There was a soft laugh from behind you and Roger mumbled, “C’mon Dummy, you should sleep too.” And then he kept talking, telling you how you’d still be horny when you woke but you’d have control of your brain again, you’d be back to his beautiful, intelligent partner. It sounded like nonsense (what did intelligent even mean?) but something about the way he spoke made your eyes droop and close. There was a small tap on your forehead and you awoke, disorientated by being brought back to the real world so soon.  “How do you feel, love?”  Roger asked and you twisted in his arms to try and see him better. You were pleased when you heard him groan at the change in your position.   “You’re a fucking tease Roger Taylor.” you half laughed, trying to sound less amused than you were.  He laughed too, clearly pleased with his little game, as he released you and withdrew his cock from your heat, “I told you you’d like it.”  You pushed yourself up to be more comfortable, “I don’t know that like is the word I’d use. All I feel is horny. Insanely so.”  “Do you want that fuck now?”  He was still laughing when you tackled him. 

Taglist: @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @ilovequeenmorethanyou @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @stardust-galaxies @cherries-n-rocknroll @rogersslave @scorpiogemini

[wordynerdygurl]

Act 1, Scene 1

Author’s Note:  @your-highnessmarvel​ offered up a challenge a couple of months ago and I took on a prompt.  Then the world went and got screwy, which is not an excuse for my tardiness, but is maybe an explanation as to why this is being submitted so late.  My thanks to @your-highnessmarvel​ for baring with me and letting participate in such a cool event!

Also, I hope everyone is going well... staying healthy and observing personal distancing guidelines!   Also, also, you know I love the love, so comment, reblog, request a story, send an ask, join the tag list, follow me and/ or otherwise feed my need for validation! Also, Also, also, @sammy-jo1977​ is my cheerleader, reader and writing buddy!  Thanks for being so great to me!! Pairing:  Loki x Female Reader with Natasha stopping in for a visit Summary: My challenge prompt was Loki, On a Street Corner, Right after the rain. It was a hot and steamy night, after drinking at the bar.  Loki sets the stage for you, if you’re brace enough to perform. Warnings:  SMUT, Thigh riding, fingering, voyeurism, mention of FMF threesome

"How much room does one person actually need?  God!"

You couldn't help the frustration from filling your voice.  Loki, taking up the entire park bench, his legs spread as wide as possible, was now eyeing you darkly from under a curtain of rain damp raven hair.  "Everywhere I sit is my throne."

"This?  This is your new throne?  A shitty, splintered park bench across from a bar called The Blue Shamrock?  Ha!"  

Draping his long arms along the wet back of said bench, Loki lifted his head skyward, "I bring regality to the mundane.  This seat, once decrepit and damaged, is now reborn."

Snorting, you kicked at his booted foot, "Come on.  Move, Loki.  Move or I'll sit on you."  

It's meant to sound menacing.  A warning.  But Loki chuckles lightly, "You, little kitten, are drunk."

Striding confidently into the gap between his knees, you laughed teasingly, "No, you are."

Even though the rain had stopped the air was heavy with it.  Sticky, sweaty, wilted, you brushed Loki's hair off his face, giggling, "It was the shots.  Why do you let me drink tequila?"

Sitting forward, Loki raised an eyebrow, "Why?  Do you really want to know, little one?"

Nodding, shifting your weight off the ball of your tired feet, your long, lethal God raked a heated gaze over you.  Turning from you, he sighed into the steamy night, "Because once you have too much tequila, you can't stop dancing."

Licking over his bottom lip, longing lust in Loki’s baby blues, he added, "You start shaking those hips… your ass, and well, it is just about the sexiest thing I have ever seen."

Giggling again, you sway a bit, still light headed from the bar, “Oh really?” Lightning quick, arms circling your waist pull you to his sweat soaked chest, throwing you off balance.  One minutes you’re on your toes, the next you're straddling his strong thigh, clutching onto Loki’s shoulders.  Already a bit dizzy, the smell of Loki mixed with the summer rain, dark liquor, and wet ground makes your head swim.  

A nearby street lamp illuminates the drizzle drenched pavement in weakening, widening, circles.  Loki's makeshift throne rests on the outer edges of that halo, half in shadow, half in light.  It's a good thing, too, because his hands are under your skirt, scratching against the sensitive skin where your bottom becomes thigh.

Tugging down your rising hem, "Hmm… Loki, someone might see."  Murmuring into his ear, you aren't able to hide the aching want in your tone, the raw need he's building with each scrape of his articulate fingers.  But that didn’t mean that you wanted an audience.

Laughing sharply, Loki drags you closer, "That’s true.  Although, you didn't care who might see you when you were on the dance floor.  Pressing yourself against me… against Natasha, like a bitch in heat.  You cared only for your own pleasure, regardless of the spectacle you caused."

“Loki… I…”  You never got the rest of the words out.  Growling softly, Loki tangled a hand in your hair, pulling you towards his hungry mouth.  Parting thoughtlessly, your lips eagerly accepted his tempting tongue.  Your arms, without prompt, curled around his neck, fingers twisting into Loki’s jet black locks.    

Settling further into Loki’s kiss, your center rocked against his denim covered leg.  Your panties, thin cotton and barely there, ensured that you felt every bulge and ripple of his meaty quad.  Responding in the only way it knew how, your body bucked, already wet and warm, “Loki...?” Breathing hard, Loki pulled back, “Yes?” “Not here.  Please?  Somewhere private, Ok?”  An image of your big bed with sex rumpled sheets crossed your mind.  Paradise, and only a short walk from this very bench. “Now my girl is shy?”  Tucking a swath of hair behind your ear, Loki set you standing, “Alright… Let’s go somewhere private.” Stepping away, fingers laced with Loki’s, you start in the direction of home only to be yanked back.  “What the hell?” “This way… a shortcut.”  Stepping behind you, Loki prods you with a small shove at your lower back.  Rounding a corner, he pushes you into a dim alley, away from any stray glances.  As soon as darkness covered you both, Loki’s mouth was on you, nipping at the sensitive skin under your ear, causing you to whimper, “Oh!” There’s a heady rush to the way Loki moves you, like his personal puppet, under his control. Part of you wants to stop him, shout at him, push him away.  That would make the most sense.  But being with Loki had nothing to do with sense.

So you let him lead you through an oil stained puddle, stumbling against the cobblestones, those strong arms breaking your fall.  It's all Loki needs to press his advantage.  The bricks, cool against your back, are a surprising yet welcome respite from the mugginess of the evening.  

In the distance you can hear the thump of dance music and the din of drinkers inside the bar.  Closer at hand, a loud gasp leaves you as Loki roughly lifts you by the knees, his carelessness making you wetter.  Searing, Loki’s kisses are sloppy along your throat, down to the deep vee of your shirt.  Petting your breasts, under your shirt, over your bra, causes goosebumps to breakout over your exposed skin.

“Hmm… such a needy little thing, aren’t you, kitten?  Are you wet?  I’ll bet you are… I’ll bet you have been all night.  Just hoping that I’d take you like this… or would you rather it was Natasha?” Loki’s words were scalding, just the suggestion of something between you and Black Widow made your back arch in want.  Before you could answer, his hands, always so clever, sought and found the soaked gusset of your panties.  Sliding the flimsy fabric to the side, one long teasing digit slid into your fevered flesh, a mere taste of what Loki wanted to give you in the dirty, dank, darkness.    Clawing Loki’s shoulders, you use the wall as leverage, raising your pelvis as you conquer the space between your bodies.  A sudden desperate need takes over.  Whether it’s fueled by the oppressive heat, the strong alcohol in your system, your wantonness, or Loki’s urging, you want it all.  And you need it now.

“No.  Not her.  You.  Always you, Loki”  With your legs hooked over his hips, you clench around his invasion, drawing a guttural groan from your God. Suddenly empty, Loki hoists you higher, focused on freeing his straining length.  Those seconds are precious and you use them to pepper his jaw with kisses.  Nibbling on his ear lobe, you whine, “Hurry, baby.  Please.” And then he’s filling you.  The force of his thrust is so strong that you flatten against the wall, fingers gripping the mortar, as the air leaves your lungs.  You turn your head, gulping for breath, as Loki withdraws, only to rut into you deeper than before. Cupping your mouth with his hand, Loki sneers, “You said somewhere private, not soundproof, pet.  You’re going to have to be quieter if you don’t want anyone else knowing how slutty you truly are." Eyes widening over his palm, you nod, as a sinful shiver snakes up your spine.  Loki’s free fingers find your clit, rubbing you in tight circles, mimicking the rhythm of his grinding groin.  You can’t think of anything dirtier than Loki taking you to the edge of pleasure in this filthy alley and it tightens your abdominals in anticipation of your climax. When Loki’s hand slips from your mouth, you’re biting your lip, keeping all your noises to yourself.  Muscles tensing, you’re seconds away from your peak when you notice a shadow over Loki’s shoulder.  You’re being watched.  And instead of worrying about your guest, your gaze locks with the newcomer, small moans growing into full on wails of ecstasy.

Silent steps bring the short silhouette closer, a smile visible in the gloom, as Natasha watches as you unravel around Loki.  Something about her witnessing your debauched display makes your quim quiver.  You notice how she licks over her bottom lip, seeing you spread out for Loki’s enjoyment, and you simper, needfully. “Go ahead, let it out pet.  Show everyone how pretty you are when you cum for me!”  Loki’s words trip your bliss, a spiraling, soaking mess of satisfaction.  Your velvet walls lock down against his steely strength.  With a low keen, Loki buries himself in your yielding cleft, his release long and large. Shaking, you ride out the after effects of your orgasm with Loki still inside of you.  Turning your face to his, Loki kisses you deeply, his tongue tasting the tequila you let overwhelm you earlier in the evening.  Nose to nose, you see Loki smile, “Natasha!  I hoped you’d find us.” “It was such a lovely show… but I wonder if there’s a second act?” Smiling at the woman in front of you, Loki’s cum coating your thighs, “I’d be happy to give you both a private performance.  Preferably someplace with a soft bed and air conditioning.” “I know just the place...”, Loki smirked at you, one eyebrow raised teasingly. ***

It was early morning when the final curtain went down on your one woman show.  Muscles soft, lips chapped, and voice hoarse, you finally found sleep as the sun lightened the sky.  Curled between a God and a hard woman, command performances would simply have to wait as even the most ambitious performers need to rest now and then.

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My Rag-Tag Crew: @lokislittlecorner​ @just-random-obsessions​ @vodka-and-some-sass​ @brokenthelovely​ @thefallenbibliophilequote​ @iamverity​ @crystalizedcaramel​ @rorybutnotgilmore​ @jessiejunebug​ @lots-of-loki​ @alexakeyloveloki​ @ahintofkiwistrawberry​ @shxdowofdarkness​ @nonsensicalobsessions​ @mizfit2​ @archy2001 @jamielea81​ @procrastinatinglikeabitch​ @thenatallie​ @wolfsmom1​ @unadulteratedwizardlove​ @sammy-jo1977​

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 95

95

   The hotel room was as nice as the first one. Lance loving the plush bedding as he sprawled out, feeling stupid for being such a cry baby. He’d definitely noticed he’d been feeling more emotional of late, probably thanks to his birthday. Following him in, Keith paused long enough to close the door behind them, before dropping himself down on the end of the bed

“Babe...”

“Come up here and cuddle me”

Holding his arms out, Keith climbed up, flopping down beside him and wrapping his arm around Lance’s waist

“This was going to be a surprise later, but all morning I’ve been thinking about you”

“I missed you”

“I missed you, too. I’m sorry I wasn’t very good boyfriend today...”

“You’ve got a lot going on”

“That’s no excuse. It’s your birthday and I wanted it all to be perfect”

“It got off to a rocky start, but it’s gotten better now”

“Really?”

   Kissing Keith’s forehead, his boyfriend looked up at him

“I don’t deserve you”

Krolia hadn’t wanted him to break up with Keith. Keith probably thought a hundred and one things about the conversation, but looking down at Keith right now, Lance could see he was too exhausted for an in-depth discussion

“Maybe and maybe not... but that’s for us to figure out. Right now I’m happy to be here with you”

Shimmying up, Keith’s kissed him. Some initial shyness to begin with, until Lance deepened the kiss. He really loved Keith. That’s why it’d hurt so much to see him angry. Letting the kiss evolve to more, his boyfriend shifted to cage him beneath him. Keith has the sweetest kisses, Lance’s ridiculous amount of pent up frustrations pooling in his belly. If they didn’t stop now, he wasn’t sure he could.

  Breaking the kiss, they stared at each other

“We should stop...”

For a moment Keith looked hurt

“... because I don’t think I can if you keep kissing me like this”

“I’m doing things backwards, aren’t I?”

Now Lance was as confused as he was aroused

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I don’t want to stop, but I haven’t even wished you a happy birthday”

Snorting, Lance leaned up, kissing Keith again, Keith breaking the kiss this time to lean back, sitting in Lance’s lap as he unzipped his hoodie

“You still haven’t”

“That’s because I’m about to give you the best orgasm of your life”

  Lance blushed. That wasn’t “happy birthday”, but he could definitely get behind that

“Is that so? You’ve already given me all the best orgasms of my life”

Keith stripped his hoodie, throwing it off the bed... damn, that really shouldn’t have been such a sexy move

“I’m going to make you fall apart until you’re chanting my name...”

“Mhmm... then what?”

“Then I’m going to cuddle the fuck out of you, and when you’re all smiley I’m going to wish you a happy birthday”

Keith was right. He was doing everything backwards but it was so him

“I like the sound of that... I’ve been pretty pent up...”

Keith ground against Lance’s crotch, smirking as he did

“I can tell. I was going to wait to tonight, but I don’t think I can”

“I don’t want to wait... unless you do”

“I should be saying that to you...”

Reaching up, Lance brushed back a stray strand of Keith’s fringe

“I really do respect you... I’m not very good with birthdays, but I feel so much better with  you”

“Me too... you’re... you’re really important to me. I do trust you... I just get so stupid sometimes”

“That’s only because you worry about me. Now... come back down here... I do believe you said something about the best orgasm of my life?”

“Yep. You better be ready”

   Keith had cooled right down from his outburst. His boyfriend taking his time to undress him. Lance finding it frustrating when all he wanted was Keith to hurry the fuck up, but it was sweet. It was Keith’s way of trying to tell him he was special with his actions instead of words. Giggling when his boyfriend failed to undo his laces enough to get his left shoe off, he knew he was in trouble from the silencing scowl Keith gave him. Sex with Keith was always more than sex. The anticipation had his body feeling like he was running hot. Each touch of Keith’s cool hands across his skin only served to make him hornier

“Patience”

Keith had no right to tell him to be patient. His boyfriend still had his boxers on, but he was very much into what was happening. Starting at his neck, Keith nipped and sucked his way down, toying with Lance’s libido as he nearly killed it by tweaking his nipple a tad too hard. Moving from straddling him to kneeling between Lance’s legs, Keith wasn’t shy about sliding those perfect lips of his down Lance’s dick.

   Whoever taught Keith how to give head deserved a medal... until the bastard pulled off Lance whining softly, drawing a breathy laugh from Keith

“I can’t keep sucking if there’s somewhere else I’d rather put my mouth”

Lance’s lips formed a silent “oh”. His scent strong enough that his head felt muddled. His body completely at Keith’s mercy and he trusted him completely to do what he wanted. Lifting Lance’s legs onto his shoulders, Keith pulled him up, burying his face between them. Running his tongue across his opening, his body screamed for more as he let out a sort of moaned mew. The cramping hadn’t started, but the need for Keith to do something only continued to grow.

  Fucking him slowly with his tongue, Lance fisted the sheets beneath them. Keith’s blow job game failed in comparison to the way his boyfriend worked him open. Keith was filthy in all the right ways... an act that so many deemed dirty had Lance shaking with pleasure

“You’re so fucking wet for me...”

Blush redden Lance’s cheeks. He didn’t like that his body got wet, but his lover loved it. He turned into something hot rather than embarrassing...

“Reckon you could come from me eating you out alone?”

Fuck yes... nodding quickly, Keith’s tongue pushed back in, and holy fuck if he didn’t nearly come then... making the mistake of watching Keith, his boyfriend had one hand in his boxers...

“Keith... fuck... don’t...”

Somehow that translated to “Keith keep going”... then Lance coming. Thighs trembling, stomach muscles rippling, head dropping back as he came across his chest

“Fuck...”

  Keith said it perfectly... fuck if he hadn’t needed to come... shit... his head was still muddled. Forcing his fingers to release the sheet, his right hand coming to his belly... he needed Keith in him... he needed his boyfriend to take away this feeling... finding his shirt, Keith wiped his chest off, shooting him a quick smile before moving

“Let me get a condom”

   Keith rinsed his mouth with a bottle of water before climbing back on the bed. Lance still able to taste himself as his boyfriend pulled him up to kiss. Whining softly, he didn’t want to be patient long enough for Keith to put the condom on, half trying to climb into his lap. Beneath his arse he felt Keith trying to brain enough to use protection, forcing him to behave. Suddenly Keith was breaking the kiss and making to move

“We need lube”

“Don’t need it”

“Babe, it’ll hurt”

“Don’t care... I need you”

“Babe”

“I can take it... I want you...”

Dropping his head to Keith’s shoulder, his fangs raked lightly of the soft skin of his boyfriend. He’d lie. He’d deny it. And sometimes he was maybe terrified by it, but he wanted to bite Keith. Not just like a normal lover, but to taste him

“Let me know if it hurts... I don’t think I’m going to last”

“Don’t hold back...”

  Taking him by the arse, Keith slipped twice as he tried to sink into his heat. Lance finding himself lapping at the small beads of blood pearling where his teeth had grazed. His eyes widening as Keith finally started to push in, body tensing

“Babe?”

“Keep going... want you so much”

Forcing himself to relax came easy when his body realised it was getting what it wanted. Lance crying out as he suddenly bottomed out in Keith’s lap...

“Babe?”

“Move... fuck... you feel good...”

  Holding Keith’s head to his chest, Lance’s hips moved on their own. His legs wrapped around Keith, using his strength to ride him. Fingers digging into Keith’s back... he wanted to kiss him as he came. Keith had to have come, but that slutty side of him wasn’t done. He was so needy like this... so close to coming too

“Babe... kiss... god... fuck... Keith...”

“Show me your face”

He couldn’t quite let Keith go, hands going to his sides as he ground against his boyfriend as he came, Keith kissing him, lips bloody from Lance’s fangs. Hooded purple eyes staring up at him with that smooth throat exposed. Scrunching his eyes closed, Lance buried his face against Keith’s hair, inhaling his lover’s scent around the scent of blood. Keith’s hands on his arse forced him to keep moving, his boyfriend growling his hips stuttered.

   Finally satisfied, Lance went limp against Keith, nuzzling his hair as he panted. Shit... everything felt nicely spent. Keith supporting him, despite how much his thighs must hurt. Rubbing his against Lance’s cheek, Keiths hands slid up from his arse to rest loosely over the small of his back

“Happy birthday”

Lance snorted out a laugh, he loved Keith so fucking much. His head was still hazy, words kind of jumbled

“Thanks... birthday... fuck... I’m fucked”

“Are you okay?”

“Mhmm... just hot... wanna cluggle”

“Cluggle?”

“Wanted... snuggle... cuddle... no brain...”

“Cluggles it is... lemme get you cleaned up”

“Best boyfriend...”

   Lance was content to doze under the covers once Keith had cleaned him up. Cuddling into his boyfriend, he listened to Keith’s still somewhat racing heart

“Did you come?”

Keith’s fingers were lazily running over his shoulder, the feeling nice and comfortable

“Twice... you?”

“Mhmm... I didn’t notice you come the first time”

Keith went slightly stiff

“Babe?”

Keith sighed, voice low as he answered

“I came as I pushed in... it’s embarrassing”

“Nah... it means you wanted me...”

“Only you could think that”

“That’s because sex isn’t like in porn... it doesn’t last for hours”

“I didn’t even last ten seconds inside you”

“Must be my glorious arse”

“It is pretty glorious...”

“How do your lips feel?”

“Sore, but okay...”

“I’m sorry about my fangs”

“It’s fine... I was more concerned about your arse”

“It’s fine...”

  They fell back into a comfortable silence. Lance nearly drifting off when Keith’s phone started ringing

“That’ll be Shiro telling me it’s time to come in”

All of a sudden Lance was hit with the feeling of insecurity. Swallowing hard, he had to stop himself from begging Keith not to go

“I better get it. I’m sorry”

  When Keith slid out from under the covers the bed felt too big. Lance pulling as much of the blankets up around him as he could. He didn’t know why he felt so insecure... or teary. He just really didn’t want Keith to go and his body was starting to cramp up. Burying his face in the blankets, he listened to Keith take the call, confirming he’d be there shortly. A low whine slipping from Lance involuntarily. Chuckling over the sound, Keith sat down on the bed, resting his hand on Lance’s hair, as he talked to Shiro a few moments longer before ending the call

“I have to go now. But the room’s totally paid up, so you can rest here. We’ll be late to dinner but I’ll be there... I wish this wasn’t happening on your birthday”

Lance wished it too. His silence hung loudly between them

“Hey, babe. Look at me”

  Raising his head, he knew Keith saw his tears

“Hey, no. I’m coming back. I’m not even in the ground crew”

That wasn’t it all. Beneath the sheets he was getting horny again... his body starting to cry out of Keith, but his scent was lost in how much of his scent had filled the room. Wobbly, he whispered

“Be safe”

“I will. I’ll give you your present when I come back. Is there anything you want while I’m out?”

“Blankets... and pillows?”

“Are you cold? I could probably find more”

That wasn’t it. There was a lot of “wasn’t it” and a lot confusion with it

“Just... can you pick some up... the bed feels so big without you”

“I’m going to come back. I wouldn’t leave if I didn’t have to. Now gimme a kiss”

The kiss was small. Lance fighting not to reach out and grab his boyfriend as Keith moved again, this time to shower quickly and dress. Why did he miss him so much and feel so small? And why wasn’t his body calming down?

[blacktofade]

Anon, you understand me. I’ll take every opportunity possible to make those bfu lads slutty ✌️

*

The thing is that Ryan can’t even truly blame the alcohol. He’s had a couple of shots, sure, but they’re not enough to get him drunk. They’re not enough to excuse the way he pins Shane to the side of his car with hot hands and an even hotter mouth.

And the other thing is that Shane is stone-cold sober. He’s the designated driver for the night, which means there definitely isn’t an excuse for the way he slips his hands up the back of Ryan’s shirt and stops him from moving away. Not that Ryan plans to, not with the way Shane kisses back like it’s the best decision he’s ever made, like he’s going to ruin Ryan the minute he gets the chance.

Ryan plans to give him that chance.

“Take me home,” he tells Shane when he pulls back to breathe, and Shane drags his mouth along Ryan’s cheek to press a kiss below his ear.

“Was trying to,” he murmurs and Ryan shivers at the thought that maybe he hasn't been the only one waiting to make a move all night.

“Then do something about it,” Ryan orders and Shane does.

*

He takes Ryan back to his apartment, where Obi winds around their ankles in the hallway, where he pins Ryan against his bedroom door and lets him feel how his cock is fattening up in his chinos, where he undresses Ryan like his clothes have personally offended him. Ryan doesn’t care about finesse. He’s not looking for a slow and tender first time. They'll have plenty of opportunities for that in the future.

He wants it hard and fast. He wants to get fucked until he forgets his own name.

“C’mon,” he pants when Shane starts to finger him the way he needs. He’s not being gentle and Ryan wonders if he’s always like this with the people he takes home, or if it’s especially for Ryan.

“Bossy,” Shane tells him before sinking his teeth into his shoulder. His bite is sharper than it seems and Ryan leans into the pressure as Shane gives him another finger. It’s too much and not enough, all at once.

“Fuck,” he grunts, but Shane moves them, twists Ryan until he’s face down, his knees spread wide as Shane gets his fingers back into him. It’s perfect.

Every guy Ryan’s ever been with has been a one-night-stand, but Shane just knows him. He seems to understand what Ryan needs, and what he needs is to be pinned by the back of his neck and fucked.

“You’ve been pushing for this,” Shane says, fingers carding the wrong way through Ryan’s hair and gripping hard enough to sting. “All night.”

Ryan thinks it’s generous of him not to call Ryan out completely. Ryan’s been pushing for weeks, months, for Shane to do something, toeing the line of their friendship to a point that was probably obnoxious. But it turns out he has the weaker restraint out of both of them anyway, because he technically caved first.

“Shane,” he pleads. “C’mon.”

He doesn’t even know if he’s stretched enough, because of course Shane’s ridiculously well-endowed. But Shane starts pressing the fat head of his cock where his fingers just were and Ryan’s breath catches in his throat. He’s so slick and insistent, and it’s an easier slide in than Ryan expects.

“Oh my god,” he groans, because he doesn’t think it should feel that good. He should feel fucked open and sore already, but he doesn’t.

“Want more?” Shane asks, and Ryan feels a laugh escape at the fact that Shane never once gives him an actual choice, just keeps pressing in and in, giving him more than he could ever need.

Ryan shoves a hand down his front to touch himself, his grip firm and unrelenting — as unrelenting as Shane when he pushes in as deep as he can get and then holds. Ryan presses his face into the sheets; he feels so full and Shane’s palms are like fire where they’re tightly clutching Ryan’s waist.

“Gonna move or just keeping warm?” Ryan gets out between heavy breaths and Shane isn’t meant to laugh, but he does.

“Them’s fightin’ words,” Shane tells him and Ryan doesn’t get the chance to worry what that means before Shane’s shifting, rolling his hips and giving Ryan what he wants.

Ryan can’t help the moan he lets out and it’s embarrassingly loud — enough so that Shane falters in his next thrust.

“Jesus, Ryan,” Shane says, like it in any way surprises him that Ryan’s noisy in bed. “Are you always like this?”

Ryan moans again, partly because he can’t stop it from slipping out as Shane shoves in deeper, and partly because he wants it to be his answer.

“Should’ve known,” Shane murmurs as he picks up the pace, jolting Ryan harder, the sound of their bodies becoming louder. It’s just what Ryan needs and every breath he takes is harsh and ragged and not nearly enough to fill his lungs properly.

“Harder,” he orders, trying to spread his knees a little wider as Shane shifts, putting more pressure on Ryan’s waist as he changes his thrusts, turning them short and sharp instead. They’re not necessarily harder, but they’re good.

Ryan tucks his face into the crook of his own elbow, speeding up the hand on his cock.

“You really like this, don’t you?”

Ryan doesn’t know if it’s rhetorical, but it’s definitely true — he does like it, but he likes even more that it’s Shane doing it to him. He can feel the way Shane’s slowly falling apart too. The way his hands shake against Ryan’s body, how his breathing has turned shallow, and Ryan doesn’t think he’s the only one enjoying things.

“Make me come,” Ryan grits out, voice muffled, but he knows Shane hears because suddenly Shane’s knocking Ryan’s hand away from his cock and touching him himself. “Oh, fuck.”

It’s the hand Shane used when he was fingering him because it’s wet with lube still and the slickness of his strokes feels better than Ryan ever imagined it could. He reaches out to clutch at Shane’s pillows, pulling one closer and burying his face into it. It smells like the minty shampoo Shane uses and Ryan can’t believe he gets this now.

Shane folds his stupidly long body over him, mouth finding Ryan’s neck. “Let me hear you,” he says and Ryan knows he’s a lost cause.

He lifts his head, just enough to let Shane hear the groan he makes as he screws his eyes shut and comes over Shane’s fingers. It’s messy and quick, but Shane lets out a sound like it’s everything he wants. His movements shift from thrusts to him just grinding against Ryan’s body and Ryan clenches around him.

“Ryan,” Shane whispers and it says so much, just from the gentle tone of his voice.

He shifts both hands back to Ryan’s hips and it only takes a few more grinds before he’s pulling out — so quickly Ryan’s head spins — and he’s coming over the small of Ryan’s back. It's warm and runs along the curve of Ryan’s spine, tickling his skin as it immediately begins to dry.

Ryan listens to Shane breathing shakily for a moment, before eventually Shane slumps into the space beside him. Ryan carefully lowers his hips, stretching his legs out and tangling them gently with Shane’s own. When he turns his head, Shane’s watching him, lips parted and chest rising and falling heavily as he catches his breath.

“Huh,” Shane says and Ryan laughs at how stunned he sounds.

“We should have been doing this sooner, right?”

“Like years ago,” Shane replies and Ryan laughs again, rolling closer to steal a kiss. Shane returns it with gentle enthusiasm, his hand coming up to Ryan’s face.

“Eugh,” Ryan complains into Shane’s mouth as lube and come accidentally smear along Ryan’s jaw.

Shane laughs and pulls away. “I already came across your back,” he points out and Ryan grunts.

“Fine, but I get to use the shower first.”

Shane shrugs like it’s a fair deal, but draws Ryan back in and Ryan goes willingly.

[bing-fucker]

Ooooo I would very much like to see Wilford or someone fucking JJ during family movie night and yeah JJ is already quiet and yeah, everyone else in the room has fucked him before, but he's still biting his lips and trying to keep in all his little pants and gasps and be all sneaky like with it (ofc everyone else knows what's happening, but they're not gonna say anything that might disrupt it bc JJ looks so pretty when he's getting his brains fucked out)

Okay so before we get into it, a li'l explanation of how the Septics are arranged during movie nights; Marvin, Jameson, and Jackie sit on the couch, usually with Marvin and Jameson cuddling. Chase sits on a recliner, usually and is usually in charge of the remote. Henrik generally sits on the ground with Robbie, or on a loveseat against the wall by the couch. If Anti shows up, he generally sits on the ground in front of Jameson or Marvin so they'll play with his hair. None of that matters, but it's important to me that you know that.

Also! I couldn't think of an excuse for Wilford to be in movie night unless all the other Ipliers were there, and if that was the case, Jameson wouldn't let Wilford fuck him. Too many people. And we haven't gotten enough of Chase. So we get some Mean Daddy Chase (he's not actually mean, he just likes teasing). Endings a li'l weak and a cop out to avoid writing the orgie that occured, but oh well.

Warnings: Exhibitionism, teasing, slight degradation, Chase does make a slightly ableist comment, but he doesn't mean for it to be that way, daddy kink (I feel like Chase just as a whole has a daddy kink). As always, ask me to add any warnings!

Chase was planning something. Chase had been planning something for a while now. Movie nights were fun, sure, but they were getting a bit boring. There were no good movies out lately, and they'd already watched their whole collection of DVDs. So it was only right that Chase do something to entertain his friends!

"Hey, Jamie," Chase said, smiling. "Do you wanna sit with me tonight?"

Jameson looked over and nodded, smiling brightly. Marvin pouted briefly, but smiled when Jameson hugged him and went over to Chase. Chase grinned and pulled Jameson into his lap, dramatically kissing Jameson's cheek and making the little gentleman laugh.

"All righty, settle down," Chase laughed, tickling Jameson's ribs lightly before settling back against the chair. Jameson smiled and leaned against Chase's chest, tucking his head under the older's chin. Chase smiled and covered them both with a blanket, looping his arms around Jameson's waist innocently.

"V'hat are you plannink?" Schneep asked, looking at the pair skeptically.

"Can't I just want to cuddle with my friend?" Chase replied, snuggling Jameson closer.

"I don't trust you," Schneep muttered, turning back to whatever movie that Chase had put on for background noise of his plan.

Chase laughed and settled in to pretend to pay attention to the movie. Jameson squirmed slightly to get more comfortable and Chase gently gripped his hips to still him. The movie was boring. Which was exactly what Chase had wanted. He could already tell that Jackie was close to falling asleep from boredom, and they were only about fifteen minutes in. Chase wanted to wait a bit longer, so he supposed it was lucky that Marvin was texting Jackie memes in the groupchat to keep him awake. Jameson was also getting bored, but he was far too polite to bring it up. He always got squirmy when he got bored, and with him sitting in Chase's lap, it wasn't exactly conducive to waiting for further into the movie.

"Jamie, calm down," Chase muttered, gripping Jameson's hips tightly to still him.

"Sorry," Jameson signed, blushing faintly and stilling.

About an hour into the movie, Jameson's squirming reached a peak. Chase laughed softly as the gentleman practically bounced unhappily, a bit like a kid in a boring class. Which was sort of amusing to watch, but also unfortunate for the erection that had been growing for a while in Chase's jeans. Chase smirked slightly and pulled Jameson against his chest, gently resting his hand on top of Jameson's crotch. Jameson stilled, blushing a bit more.

"Something wrong, Jamie?" Chase purred quietly, gently grinding his palm against Jameson's crotch. Jameson gasped softly, blushing more and weakly grinding against Chase's hand. The gasp, soft as it was, seemed to at least gather Jackie's attention, as he turned towards the pair. Chase smirked and moved the blanket to the side, letting the hero see as he pushed his hand down Jameson's pants and gently stroked him.

"Chase," Jameson signed shakily, blushing brightly. "Chase, we are with the others!"

"Yes, I am aware," Chase replied, slowly pushing Jameson's pants down his thighs and grabbing the small bottle of lube from his own pocket. He had planned for this, after all. Jameson blushed more and bit his lip, trying to silence his gasps further as Chase carefully pushed two lubed fingers into him. Across the room, four of the others remained oblivious for now, but Jackie stared with a deep blush.

"Chase," Jameson signed, biting his lip and trying not to pant too loudly.

"I know, baby," Chase replied, hooking his free arm under Jameson's leg, lifting and spreading it so Jackie could see his fingers moving inside of Jameson. "Does it feel good, baby?" Jameson nodded, gasping as Chase's fingers crooked against his prostate. Jackie groaned softly at that, drawing Marvin's attention first to Jackie and then to Chase and Jameson.

"Holy shit," Marvin muttered, shifting to hide his growing erection- a change from Jackie, who was rather blatantly palming himself.

"Jamie~" Chase purred, leaning down and kissing Jameson's neck gently. Jameson opened his eyes to look at Chase, pupils blown wide. "Do you want more, baby? You want daddy to fuck you?" Jameson gasped and nodded, rocking down against Chase's fingers desperately.

"I dunno if you deserve to, baby," Chase replied, lifting Jameson's leg higher to tease him. "You were pretty squirmy earlier, baby. Weren't very nice to daddy, were you?" Jameson blushed and shook his head, looking at Chase with a pout.

"I think I should get to have my fun for a bit longer, baby," Chase purred, watching Marvin hit Anti's head and point over to Chase and Jameson. Chase grinned and pushed another finger into Jameson, drawing another gasp from the gentleman that got Schneep and Robbie's attention. Jameson closed his eyes again, biting his lip.

"Do you think the others don't see you?" Chase purred. "For a mute, you're very loud, baby. They can all see you, baby. See what a slut our little gentleman really is~" Jameson blushed more, hesitantly opening his eyes before quickly squeezing them shut again at how much everyone was staring at him.

"I z'hink z'hat's enough teasink, Chase," Henrik cut in, watching the pair.

Chase looked over at him and frowned. "I suppose so," he replied, pulling his fingers out of Jameson and letting go of his leg. Jameson turned and hid his face in Chase's neck, gasping softly as Chase slowly pushed his cock inside of him.

"There we go, baby," Chase groaned, once again lifting Jameson's legs and letting the others watch as his cock moved in and out of Jameson. "You feel so good, Jamie~ Your little hole takes me in so eagerly~"

Jameson gave a whining gasp, pressing his face further against Chase's neck. Chase grinned and moved faster, releasing Jameson's hip and gripping the gentleman's jaw to turn his face toward their audience.

"C'mon, baby," Chase purred, kissing Jameson's cheek gently. "Look at your audience, baby. Look at how much they all love watching daddy fuck your slutty little hole~" Jameson blushed and hesitantly opened his eyes, looking out at the others. Jackie and Marvin at this point were making out, Marvin in Jackie's lap and both grinding against each other as they watched Jameson and Chase. Robbie and Anti were both blatantly jerking themselves off, and the only one who seemed mostly unaffected was Schneep, who offered Jameson an encouraging smile.

"See," Chase purred, fucking Jameson harder. "Look how much they love you~" Jameson gasped louder, rocking his hips down against Chase desperately as he came, dirtying his shirt with a deep blush.

"Look at that," Chase teased. "Look how quick you came, just from me fucking you~" Jameson blushed deeply, shuddering with after shocks that quickly sent Chase over the edge as well. Jameson blushed and relaxed against Chase, hiding his face shyly.

"Well," Anti purred, standing and going over to Jameson and Chase. "I think it's a bit unfair if only you two get some fun, hm~?"

"As long as our baby agrees, I don't see why not," Chase replied, grinning. Jameson blushed and reached up, gripping Anti's shirt with shaky hands before pulling him into a kiss.

It was most definitely going to be a long night.

[verai-marcel]

i love your writing! i would like to request something to satisfy both my lust for Arthur and my teacher kink. like, Arthur is the hot art professor, and the reader gets caught like playing on her phone in class or something and Arthur uses it as an excuse to punish them 👀

Defying Discipline (RDR2 Fic, 18+ ONLY)

Summary: After several years in the workforce, you decide to go back to get your Master’s degree. Unfortunately, you need some requisites first, so you take some night classes at your local community college. When you show some attitude to the local art professor, he takes your discipline into his own hands.

Author’s Notes: It would be easy to make the reader college-aged. But NO. That’s cliche. Let’s do this the HARD way. (Heh, I made a JOKE.). But really, I just wanted to imagine getting boned by Arthur. My dear anon who requested this, I hope this hits your professor kink hard, because it hit mine with a goddamn nuke.

Tags: low honor Arthur, art professor Arthur, modern AU, rough sex, punishing sex, classroom sex, dirty talk, coercion, dubcon, female reader, face slapping, little bit of crying, face fucking

Find it on AO3 here.

You had been working for seven years after college, rising the ranks at a graphic design firm and getting better and better with each assignment. But you had hit a wall. You failed to get promoted this past round, and your mentor at work had suggested getting your Master’s degree to get ahead.

When you had researched grad programs, you found that because you had a different major in college, you had to take some prerequisite courses, much to your annoyance. You knew how to sketch, you knew how to use negative space, you knew these things. But the graduate program you wanted to get into didn’t accept your portfolio as a substitute; you had to take the courses.

So here you were, sitting in a classroom with a bunch of freshmen, ready to start a drawing class that was going to be a snooze fest.

That is, until the professor walked in.

All eyes went to him; his swagger just generated a masculinity that even affected you. The strength in his arms couldn’t be hidden by the blue striped Oxford shirt, with two buttons undone at the top, revealing just a tease of his broad chest. His sleeves were rolled up, and his jeans were fitting very nicely on his hips. Did this man know what he was doing?

And then he turned to face the class. His face peppered with a five o’clock shadow that made him look a bit rough, with full, kissable lips that quirked in a lopsided smile as he surveyed the class. His eyes were a unique color, and you felt yourself drawn in before you quickly shook your head. Okay, at least the professor was hot. But he didn’t look much older than you, so you didn’t expect much.

“Name’s Arthur Morgan. You can call me Arthur, or Professor Morgan if you like, though I’m not a fan of formalities.”

He looked at each student as he spoke, and when his eyes reached you, he paused for a split second longer than the others. The heat from his gaze lingered in your mind as he continued to gaze at the rest of the class.

“Okay then, let’s begin.”

***

You sat and watched the other students file out of the classroom, feeling somewhat chastened by Professor Morgan’s final comment to you during the sketching session.

“Please stay after class,” he had said quietly into your ear. You had sighed then, knowing that you had been a complete ass. You were sick of all the sycophantic questions during the lecture portion, so you had started answering them, but after a few too many answers, the professor had called you out on it, asking that you let him do his job. So you had shut your mouth and doodled until it was time to sketch the fruit bowl in the center of the room.

Now everyone was gone, he turned and walked towards you as you packed up your things.

“You’re quite knowledgeable. Why are you here?” he asked, standing a mere foot from you, looking intimidating as hell.

“I need the credit for grad school,” you said.

“And of all the sections you coulda signed up for, why this one?” His voice dropped, his tone lower.

“It fit my work schedule,” you mumbled, not liking where this line of conversation was going.

“Then maybe you should be good, or I will insist that you drop this class,” he nearly growled.

Shit, you hadn’t realized how pissed off he was. His glare was intense, and you gulped.

“I… I’ll be good,” you said.

“I’ll hold ya to yer word,” he drawled, stepping aside to let you leave. You hurried away into the night air, looking back to see him watching you from the doorway, an inscrutable look on his face.

***

Of course, you tried to be good. But three weeks later, after a particularly bad day at work, you were back to your snarky ways. Arthur had to eventually ask you to quiet down or leave the classroom, and when everyone looked at you, glaring, you mumbled an apology and shut your mouth again.

And once again, while everyone was sketching a collection of vases in the center of the room, he came up to you and asked you to stay afterwards.

So here you were again, watching everyone leave.

Except this time, once the last student had left, the professor locked the door behind them. You immediately stood up. That was a bad sign.

He started to stalk towards you, and you instinctively backed away.

“Look, I’m sorry Arthur—”

“That’s Professor Morgan, fer you,” he rumbled, stepping closer to you, making you press your back against the wall.

You swallowed. Oh, he was really pissed. “Professor Morgan, I’m sorry, I had a bad day at work, and I let it get to me here, and that wasn’t professional, and I’ll be good, please don’t drop me from the class,” you begged, all in one breath. You really couldn’t afford to slow down your grad school plans any further.

His lips quirked upward for a second. “I like the sound of ya beggin’,” he said, barely above a whisper. He tipped your chin up with his forefinger, caressing your lower lip with his thumb. “Convince me not to drop you.”

Something simmered in his gaze. You glanced past him at the door.

“Oh, you can go. But you ain’t comin’ back if you do,” he said, chuckling darkly. “Your choice.”

You glared at him.

“Maybe I need to keep you in line.” He took another step closer to you, his body only millimeters away from yours. You felt the hard outline in his pants brush against your thigh, and your body reacted without your consent, a heat pooling between your legs.

“If you wanted to fuck, you could’ve had any of those other students,” you said, not believing this was happening; you didn’t have a body that men generally enjoyed, at least in your experience. “All those girls were staring at you with hearts in their eyes.”

“Not interested. Like you said, they’re girls.” He grabbed you by the hips and pressed his body against yours. “I want a woman.” His grip tightened on you as he kissed you, his tongue invading your mouth, scorching you with the heat of his desire.

“We can’t do this,” you mumbled, but incredibly turned on.

He reached up under your shirt, pulling down your bra, and palming your breasts. You let out a moan before you could stop yourself.

“We’re both adults. We can do what we want. So, you stayin’?”

It was hard to think as his fingers pinched and teased your nipples. You managed to nod.

“Good. I think you need to make up for your disrespect,” he said before he grabbed your throat and forced you to your knees. Unzipping his fly, he pulled out his thick cock and stroked himself a couple of times before nudging your lips with the tip. “Open up.”

You took his shaft into your mouth and nearly choked when he pushed in. He held your head still as he thrust into you, making you gag and drool. He was rough, his hands digging into your hair and tugging on you as he used you like a sex doll. You reached up to his thighs and tried pushing him away to give yourself a moment to breathe, but he was too strong, and just kept shoving himself in and out of your wet mouth.

Finally he stopped and dragged you up by your neck again. Looking down at you with saliva dripping from your lips, he smeared it over your chin with his thumb.

“Now, you keep interruptin’ me durin’ class, I’ll fuck your throat afterwards. Am I clear?”

You were silent, glaring up at him stubbornly.

He slapped your face. Not hard, but it surprised you. “Am. I. Clear?” he snarled.

“Yes, Professor,” you answered hoarsely.

“Beg. How much do you wanna stay?”

“I really need to stay, please, I’ll do anything, just let me stay,” you pleaded.

He slapped you again, and then shoved you towards the desk. Bending you over, he lifted up your skirt and pulled your panties to one side. Pushing one finger inside of your already wet slit, he laughed darkly.

“Such a slutty body, wet from suckin’ me off. You want more, darlin?”

You were silent, embarrassed and ashamed of your body’s wanton reaction to this man. He was threatening to drop you from the class! You should be angry! But instead, as he slipped a second finger inside of you and started to thumb your clit, you just moaned and stuck your ass out a bit higher to give him easier access to you.

He took his fingers out and rubbed your ass. “So good to hold onto,” he murmured as he grabbed you and squeezed your flesh. “Bet it makes a nice sound too.”

“What’s that mean?” you asked, just as he spanked you hard. You squeaked in surprise.

“That’s what I mean,” he said, and spanked you again and again. “I’m gonna spank you until you learn your place.”

“My? Place?” Each word of your question was punctuated by a spank.

“Yeah, your place. Bent over, takin’ my cock.”

You were offended for a half second before you felt the tip of him delving into you, his girth splitting you open as he pushed deeper inside you. All you could do was moan and breathe hard as you tried to relax your body enough to take his thickness, but it had been so long, and you knew you were tight. You panted as you straddled the line between pleasure and pain, blinking back tears.

“That’s right, cry, darlin’. You been a bad woman tonight, haven’t ya?”

You sniffed and rubbed your eyes on your arms as Arthur filled you up, his hips pushed up against your ass, his body crushing you against the desk. He nibbled on your neck, and breathed on your ear.

“You on the pill?”

You nodded. You hadn’t been on any dates in a while, but you liked the regularity of the pill.

“Good,” was all he said before he pulled back out and slammed back into you, starting a brutal pace as he fucked you against the desk, making you cry out with each thrust. You were worried that someone would come back to the classroom and find you, but Arthur didn’t seem to care, the table banging with his movements. He grabbed your arms, linking your wrists together in his big hand and pulling you back, using your arms like the reins of a horse. Every once in a while, he’d smack your ass, just to hear you yelp.

Eventually he wrapped a hand around your neck as he gripped your hip with the other and took you harder, pushing you against the cold metal. “You like takin’ it rough?”

“Yes!”

“You want my cum?”

“Yes, please, use me Professor!”

He growled, letting go of your neck and grabbing your hips with both hands as he pumped wildly into you before you felt him release inside of you, hot seed spilling from his cock deep into your pussy.

“Fuck, such a good slut,” he groaned as he shoved himself as deep as he could go and stayed still, letting himself grow soft while still inside of you. As he slipped out, he took a step back and let out a shaky laugh. “Damn. Haven’t fucked that hard in a while.”

You lay on his desk, panting hard, feeling his cum start to drip out of you and slide down your thigh. When he flipped you over and shoved his cum back inside of you, you gasped. Pulling your legs up onto his shoulders so that your ass was up in the air, he started to thumb your clit with one hand, and fondled your breast with the other.

“Lemme watch you come, darlin’,” he rumbled, and played with your clit and nipples as you writhed on the desk, his hands on you too much stimulation after being fucked so thoroughly. Your legs tensed, your back arched, and you came with his fingers rubbing you, pressing down as you screamed, forcing your body into convulsions with the added pressure on your already sensitive clit.

As you fell back down to earth, gasping hard and trying to remember why you were here, Arthur let your legs down off his shoulders, and went to grab a paper towel and ran it under some water before handing it to you. As you cleaned yourself up, you looked at him, cleaning himself off and tucking himself back into his pants.

“So… can I stay, Professor?” you asked, hesitantly.

He turned back to you and gave you the sexiest smile. Bending over you, he kissed you gently, cradling your head in his hand.

“Sure,” he said, his voice deep and husky, an after-sex kind of voice. “As long as you stay after every time.”

——————–

End Notes: I tried to write the body type as generic as possible so my readers of all body types can imagine themselves. Hopefully that came through in my writing. Also, maybe I’m a freak, but I really got myself hot and bothered with this one. Maybe I’m just a glutton for dirty, hard punishment? Hope you enjoyed this!

[honestsycrets]

Not My Scene || 5CW: Hvitserk

❛ Author’s Notes | fulfillment: party with hvitserk, masturbation with panties, right one too late.

❛ pairing | hvitserk/reader

❛ word count | 4661

❛ genre | angst

❛ summary | once upon a time, hvitserk cheated on his girlfriend. what a mistake that was.

❛ warnings | mention of drugging, mention of cheating, crazy margrethe, crazy freydis, reader is biiiiitch, but a lovable bitch

He could have stayed home. After all, house warming parties weren’t really his style. They were just excuses to booze up. Which, shit, he had. His brothers were busy arguing over wine coolers. Ivar insisted that they were a pussy man’s drink with malt liquor while Sigurd insisted that they could have heavier alcohol if they wanted to! Then were wine coolers really wine coolers or malt coolers?

Ugh. This whole thing was giving him one huge headache and he wasn’t sure it was the frozen tequila lemonade swirled with raspberries that he had downed. It was… well, it was you. You were slinking around wearing a cute tule minidress complete with a black matching cincher. A silky bow around your waist and--

Wait, he recognized that leather jacket.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t been the one wearing it that first day he met you, swirling around in chunky black ankle boots that you were also wearing just by chance.

“Hvitserk!” He hears a group of your friends call out to him. His big brother Bjorn and Ubbe were in the fray. “Come take a picture with us!”

When Ubbe was there, he made it really hard to say no. So biting the bullet and carrying on, he made his way over to the group with his hands shoved in a freshly new hoodie.

“Stand by (Y/N)! For old times sake!” Your bubbly asian friend calls out and before he can really deny her, her adorably pudgy frame pushes him in beside you.

“Come here, bun-bun.” You pose cutely beside him, the side of your breast against his flat chest. “You’re not wearing a white shirt, today, white shirt?” You tease like old times, letting the ache of his heart beat for the times which… things were easier. When you loved him. He looks down to his black v-neck, laughing softly.

“No, guess I’m not.” He notes.

One! Two! Three! The blinding light of a flash marks the end of a photo. You reach onto the top of your head, flicking down holographic bug eyed glasses.

“Nice to see you again!” You wink at him then bubble on past the thin, stringy purple curtains back to the kitchen of your home. He wonders, and yet he knows, you feel nothing for him after falling apart in college.

You had your scene.

He had his.

With an aching sigh in his chest, Hvitserk turns the corners up the stairs to your bathroom. He could do with a cold splash of water to drag him out of this funk. It wasn’t as if Ubbe hadn’t taken to Bjorn. Sigurd and Ivar were begrudging company in their drinking contests-- spiting each other and loving each other all in one.

Climbing up the hardwood stairs, he comes to the bathroom. Locked with the flicker of a bright yellow light and obscene-- faster, faster off the lips of a couple. He almost thinks its some dude getting his rocks off but then, you like that? The other voice has an equally feminine quality.

Shit, he feels himself grow beneath his pants. He knows its wrong to harass a couple that may or may not be lesbians. So instead of beating down the door, he spots another room. The second he walks into it he knows its a mistake.

You always loved fairy lights. White ones to contrast against your favourite lavender, royal purple and cerulean blue. Deep and vivid while still being light and dainty. Quirky-- like you. He travels his fingers along the airy white of your furniture.

That one he pounded you into while your father was downstairs, claiming that the door better stay open. Then the armoire where… and mistakenly he ambles that way, sliding the metal dangling moon on top of your long cabinet that sits on top of the wooden piece to pull out the one place where you always kept them.

His fingers run across pretty, stringy panties. The other will be the same, he assumes. You always kept bras in one place and panties with another. Your sex toys would be in a sneaky-not so sneaky pouch and god, you would sneak into your bed at night and ride a fat dildo just for him on really good nights. Send him the video while you thought he wasn’t looking.

God damn.

His favourite panties always were those stringy, aqua cheekies with the cut outs. They weren’t there. He closes back up despite catching sight of all of the pretty white, powder pink and dark blue and purple panties that he bought you once upon a time. There’s some other obscure colours even. But his curiosity brings him to your galaxy clothes bin, searching between mini skirts and leggings until he finds what he’s after… his favourites.

Used and soiled by your sweet cunt, he shudders to think of where these might have been. Hvitserk hopes that they weren’t where he thought they were.

Bun-bun. Bunny.

He can hear that stupid nickname. What was it? For your love of bunnies or his man bun that had been chopped off the moment you messaged him, we’re over. God, it burns, it burns. He comes to your bed, squeaking as he lays upon it.

But it wasn’t all bad. There were good times! How cute you dressed up as his very own playboy bunny once. He sucks in air at that very memory on this very bed, shaking your puffy faux fur tail at him. Which really wasn’t a tail but a cheap marketing ploy for a beautiful fucking anal plug.

He should really not be here but thank god he locked that door because the heavy steps outside your door as he loosens his pants would have been killer. Beside your bed is a desk, bearing stupid little k-beauty masks and sweet vanilla lotion. He pumps a bit into his hand, drawing the panties around his cock. To his shock-- there’s still a moist spot.

Did you wear them to bed?

With another man?

A woman?

Or were you being the woman he remembered, watching your favourite porn on x-videos or hentai haven or whatever it was. Your body would grind down upon the chair, a bullet grazing your lips up to your slutty clit for love and shit, he knows how much you used to love gangbang porn.

Shiiiit. He tugs his cock, turning in the bed to turn his nose into your lavish silk pillows. Good for the hair, or some shit. He inhales sharply, working his fist harder and reliving the moments he was so able to lay in bed  with you… once upon a time ago. His strokes lose focus, falling apart in the richest of his memories.

“Bunny?”

Oh no. His nose is still deep in your pillows when he dares turn his face to you. Shock wears your beautifully done up face-- that purple highlighter accentuating your cheek bones and adorably innocent white glitter of your eyes. Shit, he squeezes his dick in his hand.

“You’re not…. You are!” You flick off those bug eyed glasses, tossing them aside as you take a few steps closer. He cringes, turning onto his forearms and backs up as if that can help him find the right words.

To be in your bed-- jerking his cock off.

With your panties.

“I… was… uh.” Hvitserk runs his hand through his slicked back hair, trying to find the right words. You pluck your panties off of his dick, flicking them in another direction. He nearly leaps out of his skin when you fist the root of his cock, sinking onto the bed.

“No need to say anything.” You hum, slapping the head of his dick against your glossed lips. “You missed me, BunBun.”

He wishes he could come up with something, but the only words are a shocked moan when you shove his dick into your wet, hot mouth. Hvitserk cringes, trying his best to still upon the bed. He can’t help himself, kicking out his legs as you suckle him down. It’s a show, taking him as far as you can take and then lifting up off of him like he was nothing.

“Please… no.” He whines at the absence of your lips upon him. But then, your lips sloppily kiss down his shaft in the same way he used to make whilst eating you out. Your mouth makes its way down to his balls, suckling one. Instant pleasure hits him like a train, causing him to uncomfortably shift. His hands search out for the top of your head but then-- you take ahold of his shaft. It’s too much-- it’s too much to have your lips upon him, migrating from one side to another, then on top of his his tip to devour him whole.

“Stop, stop stop!” He shouts for you to stop. Instead of helping though, you ignore him. He spills into your mouth with a great shout, painting the cavern of your mouth with his seed. Your lips seal around his cock, suckling the remains of his excitement down.

Damn.

“Shit.” He curses as you sit up. You push the remnants of his excitement into your lips and despite having gone soft-- its almost as if he wants to go hard allll over again. Your lips quirk into a wicked smile.

“You’re as easy as I remember.” You say, bouncing off of your bed and going into the connected bathroom. He hears you in the bathroom messing with your brush and toothpaste.

“What are you doing?” He asks from your bed— as meek as the bunny he was named after.

“Cleaning your spunk out my mouth, what do you think?” You say. A few minutes later, you resurface from the bathroom fluffing your hair a bit.

“Well? Get out, Bun Bun.” You busy yourself with applying a bright, popping lipstick. “If we get caught, it’ll be all your fault.”

You were kicking him out without talking of that? Whatever that was… it was random. He tucks himself away into his pants and you toss him your panties to confuse him further. You pop the door of your room open, flicking your glasses back on.

“Keep them as a momento. Since you’ll never get my pussy again, slutty bun. Maybe Margrethe is out there somewhere.”

I was drunk!

It was his fault.

All of this-- losing you, sleeping with Margrethe. Yeah, he knew that you were in your right to break up with him. But as he composed yourself in your bathroom, he kept convincing himself that there was something there.Most women would have tossed him out on his ass if there hadn’t been! Not sucked him off.

Even with all that in mind, he wished he could remember actually sleeping with Margrethe. This was the exact reason you kicked him out of your shared apartment at the time-- throwing trash bags of his shit out the door with. Every time that he tried to recall it, it was like descending into a deep black abyss. Perhaps guilt had done him in. Water is cold on his skin, sweat on his body mattifying. He digs into his jacket pocket, covering himself in what you always called a whore’s bath of cologne.

Fuck this… fuck this. Why couldn’t he… remember? Why!?

“Hvitserk.”

Behind him, Ubbe stood with his latest fling. A curvy, dark skinned girl with beautiful waved curls that wave in front of her face. Her slanted eyes dark and obscure… but she was warm. Different from what he was used to seeing on Ubbe’s arm.

“Yeah.” He smoothes out his hair, a few stray honey locks in his eyes.

“Laarni and I are going home.” Ubbe slides his arm behind the small of her back, leaning in to plant a small kiss on her head. Her plump lips spread into a sickly bright smile-- and of course it did. They were happy. “Margrethe and Freydis are here. Are you coming home?”

“I’ll be fine.” He says, staggering from behind the couple. “I just need a drink.”

Against his better judgement, Hvitserk stays.

Freydis and Margrethe were an unlikely sort of friends. He can’t say how they really got to know each other, only that as he sways down the steps, they cluster about drinking. Freydis chitchats beside her boyfriend Eric.

“--a little cherry makes it all better.” He catches the tail end of Margrethe’s words. “Hvitserk!”

Shit, fuck. She’s here. Hvitserk gives a light smile as he turns into the cluster of friends. Beside them is a cooler of drinks. He slips down to pick up a beer, popping it open and standing beside them. Margrethe sticks to him like a magnet, one that he quickly shaves off of his arm.

“Uh, I think I gotta go…” He murmurs an excuse for himself. Past Freydis’s sassing bob and Eric’s smooth hair, he finds you standing in the way you always used to when you watched him. A pop of your hips out, weight on one hip and your nail to your lip. The other held some kind of hard liquor. You shift the glass around between your manicured fingertips, tilting your head like the time you overheard he ate a pound of sourbelts at the mall.

“Why? Do you have someone new?” Freydis asks, bobbing her hair in a sassy little bob.

“No, I just…”

“Margrethe is here to take care of you.” She cuts him off, running the back of her hand over Margrethe’s soft cheek almost affectionately so. The touch could even be called tender. The thought whizzes by his head that the two must have been sleeping together because god, Margrethe leans into the touch.

“Uh, no I-- I think I’ll go home.” He slurs. “Lemme just go get a snack before I call a uber. I’m kinda wasted.”

Before he can move, Margrethe grasps his shoulder. She reaches out to take his drink, holding it with a sickingly bright smile that Hvitserk can’t see past.

“Get me some too! I’ll hold your drink.”  

Against his better judgement, he slips off to the kitchen. If it means getting away from Freydis, he would do anything. There was something… wrong about her. He couldn’t place it. It would just take a little bit, he reasons. Then he could get away from them. Besides he swore that there were wings when he came in earlier!

“Okay.”

Something didn’t sit well with you.

Yeah, Hvitserk wasn’t your responsibility any more. You should have just left things where they were in that room. He could have your panties and Margrethe’s pussy. Who cared! You certainly didn’t-- but in the same breath…Hell yeah you cared, that was the bitch that he cheated on you with.

You convince yourself to focus on what you were talking about. But of the corner of your eye, you catch something that doesn’t set well with you. Freydis digs into her glittering handbag, handing Margrethe something small. A vial that is smaller than her finger. Margrethe fiddles with the top, cracking the plastic top open… and then she spills it within what you were sure was Hvitserk’s drink. She swishes it around just enough that the liquid might mesh with whatever he has been drinking. There’s no guessing what that was.

“Sis, take a picture with us!” Your twin brothers call out to you. Ahh, shit. Being popular wasn’t all what it was cracked out to be.

Before you could get back to Freydis and Margrethe, Hvitserk came back with a plate for his once fling. Margrethe took it from his fingers, handing him his drink. Hvitserk sets his hand into his pocket.

“It’s kind of salty.” He motions, chugging down his drink. His face scrunches up tight. “So is this shit.”

“Must’ve gotten one of those skunk beers like me.” Eric nudges Hvitserk’s arm with a closed fist. Innocently Hvitserk thinks nothing of it. Shit, it happened. He moves to toss it into a recycling bin when you grab his wrist tight.

“Shit!” He jumps, heart pumping. “(Y/N), where did you come from?”

“Did you drink that?” You ask, light strobing off of your lovely cheeks. His face contorts as if he can’t understand why you were so protective over a drink. Maybe it was yours?

“Uh… was I not supposed to?” He asks.

“We were just leaving!”

From his side, Margrethe clings to his arm. You almost throw back something at Hvitserk, but he’s the first to insist that he wasn’t going with her. Desperately he looks toward you as if concerned that you would believe her-- her over him. Reasonable, you think. You recognize the glazing look over his eyes little by little. Just like last time.

“The fuck you are, you ratchet little bitch.” You sneer.

“Excuse me?” Margrethe rolls her neck around, a pink bob of hair bobbing on her head. Hvitserk looks between his ex and well, his other ex.

“Who the fuck do you think you’re playing with?” You snap her hand off of Hvitserk’s toned upper arms. A small, hope filled smile creeps onto his face-- but not at all for the reasons that he originally hoped.

“(Y/N), I’m uh, I’m fine.” He deflects the impending fight. Beside Hvitserk, Freydis and Erik creep closer. It should have been intimidating, but pushing Hvitserk behind your arm you ball up your fist. He staggers back from your arm shielding him.

“Get out of my damn house.”

It’s the first and last warning. Freydis looks toward Erik as if to threaten him-- but with two muscular twin brothers pushing past those clustered around the fight, Erik takes the high road. Sensing her boyfriend’s skepticism and perhaps having some of her own, Freydis reaches for Margrethe’s hand, pulling her in the way of the door.

“Come on Margrethe.” She says. “You can see Hvitserk later.”

The pathetic little whimper signals the fact that yeah, they’re leaving. As you turn back to Hvitserk, it’s with the realization that the glazing of his eyes has only thickened. If what you thought was true, was really true, time would be on your side.

“Are you okay, Bunny?” You ask.

It’s slow at first. The sluggish way he scratches the back of his head, arms like heavy weights. Everything in his body slowly begins to feel weaker, more prone to accidental brushes when his perception is throne off.

“I don’t feel so good. I’m sleepy.” Hvitserk’s speech shifts, almost pleasured. “But you look good. Real good.”

You shift around Hvitserk, bringing his arm over your shoulder. You grasp his waist to help him up the steps to your bedroom.

“Let’s go to my bedroom, okay?” You ask.

“For fuckin’?”

“Not quite, bunny boo. You’re drunk baby.” You respond in a smooth, quick response.

“I want it. I miss that tasty fucking pussy on my face.” Well, at least he wasn’t agitated.

Whatever it was that they had slipped into his beer, you couldn’t say. But knowing Hvitserk and his fear of doctors, you take him up to your room. Your brothers pull open the door and help you lower him onto the bed. Hvitserk’s drops his hands at his sides, laying limply upon your bed while you slip off his shoes.

“You okay, Hvitty? I’m going to change you, okay?” You slip off his socks, loosening the button to his belt. His eyelids are heavy with his need to sleep but he still manages to nod at you loosely.

“Okay… Does this mean I get a kiss? I got a headache…” He whispers while you strip him off his pants. His pasty legs are still beneath the fabric-- even more when you pull them away. You’re not entirely sure how the loss of motor function doesn’t bother him.

“Kiss?” He whines heavily while you walk over to your dresser. His old basketball shorts in your dresser being one of the main items. You lift up from his hips to place a gentle kiss on his lightly damp forehead.

“Kiss.” You affirm. At long last Hvitserk smiles loosely, but its not without its drawbacks. The heaviness of his eyes begins to overtake him. How did I get here? Before he can even get the answer to that question, he loses himself to the wave of exhaustion.

If this time was like last time, so you feared, Hvitserk wouldn’t remember anything from the next day. On the top of your bed was a thick, green blanket. Black shadowing makes the outline of a cutesy kitten with pearly white fangs mewing at the viewing party. You drape it over Hvitserk’s body, watching his respirations closely.

Through the night, it all becomes obvious.

Catching Hvitserk in bed with the claim that… he couldn’t remember anything. Back then it seemed like a handy excuse for a man that was caught in bed with his woman. Why not? You had caught him in his ball faced lie! What man woke up in bed with a woman and could not remember any details of the affair?

Apparently, Hvitserk.

The next morning comes as a shock to Hvitserk, puking his brains out into the trash receptacle on his edge of the bed the second he woke up. He felt his mind wandering… and again, that black hole of space owns his head.

Except this time, it’s not with Margrethe. Its your perfumed pillows under his head. Your quirky sheets and most importantly, your body by his. In his daze, he can hardly appreciate the fact that yeah, it wasn’t her this time.

“Shit… what happened?” He collapses upon the pillows at long last. You lay beside him, hands on your chest. A plain black slip covers your body-- evidence that he didn’t fuck you. If he had, shit, that thing would have been chucked onto the floor. His favourite was spooning naked with you, after all!

“What do you remember about the night I caught you cheating?”

That was a hell of a way to wake up the morning. Reflecting back upon it, the whole… weekend was a blur. He could hardly tell down from up or left from right. Not that he thought that you needed to know how he handled that night after catching him in another woman’s bed. No woman deserved that.

“I don’t remember. You… I guess you found me in bed with her when you came home from your overnight shift. So you broke up with me then and there.” Hvitserk states with stale emotion as if he’s reading lines handfed to him out of a book. Of course you knew that!

“Before that.” You roll onto your side with eyes following the fuzzy line of his sideburns down to his jaw.

“I don’t.” He states uncomfortably. What kind of man was he to… to… “Do we have to talk about this? You didn’t explain how I got here.”

As he points it out, you don’t have the heart to tell him why. Really why, not because of what happened that night. What could have happened before was what frightened you. What did Freydis, Eric and Margrethe want with your Bunbun? What had they planned to do to him?

“The girls drugged you.”

Hvitserk turns to face you in the bed and meets you with uncertainty. No, not uncertainty glinting in his innocent grassy eyes. That was… fear inking his irises. After all, it… if it was true… that could only mean one thing to him. Hvitserk wasn’t going crazy like Ivar and Ubbe told him he was while recounting the story.

It wasn’t because he was a whore who couldn’t keep his dick in his pants. That wasn’t the reason that he lost time with the one woman that changed his traitorous body from succumbing to lust. No, he hadn’t just… laid on his back and slept with someone else because he wanted to. The whore, skank, slut, easy, she’s better off without you at school. It wasn’t him.

“What… what do you mean?” He dares to ask, knowing indeed the answer to his own irrelevant question.

“She was planning to rape you, Bunny. If I… hadn’t been watching, Erik and Freydis would be in bed with Margrethe and you.” Your words settle like a heavy stone in his gut. Of course, he always speculated there was more.

But… this? Margrethe would do this to him?

He never thought he broke up that cruelly with her for Margrethe to ruin his world. Not just his world, but to strip away something that belonged to him: his memory. For so long Hvitserk did not believe his own brain. He lays there, staring at the smooth lines of the top of your room.

“She… raped me.”

It doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t make sense. Your hands come over his waist, winding around him to hold him nice and tight. His hand falls down to the one around his waist.

“It’s okay Bunny.” You soothe. “It’ll all be okay.”

It certainly didn’t feel okay. Not when he considered all that he lost. Yet…

“Don’t tell Ubbe. You know my brothers.” He glances over his shoulder, tears pricking his eyes that he holds still. If Ubbe found out then the rest of his brothers would surely know. Sigurd could hold no secrets and he fears what Ivar would spill with that big mouth of his. Because, after all, what kind of man allowed himself to be drugged by a woman? He was meant to be a protector. To protect YOU. Not the other way around.

“You should tell him.” You whisper, setting your cheek upon his shoulder. “In your time.”

All this time he thought he drank too much.

“Maybe one day.” Hvitserk nudges his arm over his cheek, rolling into his shoulder to dry the wet lines of his shame. You know that he would not. Pressing him-- after all that he had gone through, that would have been a mistake. After a decisive moment, you reevaluate everything.

“Bunbun?”

Hm? Hvitserk grunts in his response.

“Was that the only time you… “cheated” on me?” You question with great skepticism. That wasn’t cheating. Of course you knew that was a woman that worked hard with at risk youth who had gone through the same experiences as your sweet, adorable bun. Who was now much less of a Bunbun than he used to be.

“Why would I do that?” Hvitserk turns back around. The tears he spilled earlier are dry and now, well, he only shows his outrage to the assumption that he had done it upon his own. Not exactly the most graceful of appeals but he knows the manner in which you speak. If there was any doubt of that-- he rather take care of this pesky issue now.

“I never gave you reason before then. (Y/N) if I ever did you should have asked me! I wouldn’t lie to you. You are the only reason I would cut my bun, (Y/N). The only one!”

Sure, he never did. But in your concern for going through that feeling again, kicking Hvitserk out with trash bags of his things, slouching against the cold walls of your constricting apartment… you had to ask. You hold his green eyes in an accusatory glare, searching out the sign of his fault. There’s none.

“Then… you can come back home.” Your hands travel behind his head, picking at the short little bits of hair that have been making a sad little ponytail.

“What?” He murmurs. A smile escapes his lips, growing until you give him a little tug. “You serious?”

“But first you have to grow out your hair, Bun!” You exclaim. What kind of bun didn’t have a proper bun!

“Done and done.”

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[isitgintimeyet]

The Ties That Bind

AO3

Previous

Thanks for reading. I really appreciate it. 

Thanks to @mo-nighean-rouge for the beta and support.

Bit of a longer chapter here, and some family fluff time up at Lallybroch. hope you enjoy

Chapter 24: A Fanciful Hallowe’en

‘Excuse me,’ said Granny, empowering the words with much the same undertones as are carried by words like ‘Charge!’ and ‘Kill!’, ‘Excuse me, but does this pointy hat I’m wearing mean anything to you?’ - Terry Pratchett, Witches Abroad

Brian Fraser had always been keen on traditions. Not just maintaining those established by his ancestors but also in creating his own. Which was why, when Jenny and Jamie were very small, Brian and Ellen launched the annual Samhain festivities for the Broch Tuarach Distillery employees and their families. Over the years it had grown into an amalgamation of traditional Hallowe’en, with children’s scary costumes, carved pumpkins and plenty of sweet treats, and Bonfire night, with sausages and baked potatoes, treacle toffee and a grand firework display. As the distillery grew, so did the party. It was still held at Lallybroch, but had outgrown the house and now required a marquee and a couple of portaloos.

Brian always insisted that his family attend this event. Originally hosted by Ellen and Brian, Jenny and Jamie, always suitably costumed, now assisted in the duty. Murtagh lurked on the periphery, choosing a less visible role - changing the beer barrels, replenishing the platters of food and deep bowls of sweets, and providing mugs of coffee and glasses of water to those who had overindulged.

Jamie had driven up to Lallybroch the day before the party on his own. Claire was still at the hospital when he set off, unable to change her rota, but was planning on getting the train to Inverness the next day, where Jamie would meet her.

Jenny was already in the kitchen when Jamie arrived. Maggie was contentedly asleep in her arms as Jenny adjusted the buttons on her shirt. Jamie took Maggie from her and settled himself in the old rocking chair in the corner of the room.

“Where is everyone?” he asked.

“Och, they’re all admiring Wee Jamie’s costume.” Jenny yawned and stretched. “Spider-Man, of course. Have ye got yers sorted? Does Claire ken she’s expected tae dress up too?”

“Aye.” Jamie nodded as Maggie roused slightly and grabbed his finger, pulling it to her mouth. “Clean hands, by the way.”

Jenny gazed at her brother who, having reclaimed his finger, was now busy blowing soft raspberries against his niece’s cheeks. “That suits ye, bràthair. Seein’ ye fussin’ over a wee bairn. I still canna say I’m thrilled about Geneva, but I’m lookin’ forward tae times here wi’ yer wee lad. What’s the latest, anyway? How’s Madam doin’?”

Before Jamie could answer, the sound of footsteps along the stone corridor heralded the arrival of Wee Jamie, closely followed by Ian and Brian. Wee Jamie rushed to greet his uncle, only hesitating slightly when he noticed Maggie in Jamie’s arms. Jamie shuffled Maggie to one side, allowing his nephew to clamber onto his other knee.

“Unca,” Wee Jamie cried happily, his fingers rubbing back and forth against the bristles on Jamie’s jawline. “‘S party tomorrow. What’s ye wearin’? Mine is secret. I’m gonna have sweeties and pop and play games and stay up till verra, verra late. Aren’t I, Mam?”

“Aye, weel, only if ye go tae bed nicely tonight. Come on now, say goodnight tae everyone. I’ll take ye and Maggie up the wooden hills tae Bedfordshire.”

With great dramatic rolling of eyes and dragging of feet, Wee Jamie reluctantly allowed his mother to lead him to bed, all the while moaning to himself. “I’m no’ tired… and I’m a big boy… I dinna go tae bed when a baby does.”

The sounds of the little lad complaining about his bedtime faded away as Brian fetched the whisky and glasses and placed them on the kitchen table.

******

Jamie, Ian, Brian and Murtagh sat round the table, each with a glass in hand listening to the battle coming through the baby monitor. Jamie looked over at Ian.

“D’ye think one of us should go and give Jenny a hand?” he asked, concerned, as a spirited ‘nooo’ sounded round the room.

“Och no,” Ian took a sip of his whisky. “Jenny has it all in hand. Jes’ wait, here it comes.”

Jenny’s stern voice came through the baby monitor, raised to speak over the whining of her son. “James Ian Brian Murray, if ye dinna settle down this instant, there will be no sweeties, no pop, no party and absolutely no Spider-Man for ye, do ye understand?”

Immediately the monitor grew quiet, then Jenny continued. “And as I ken yer da, grandda, uncle and Murtagh are all listening in, there’d better be a wee nip down there waiting fer me. Now goodnight, Jamie lad. See ye tomorrow.”

******

As requested, a whisky was waiting on the table for Jenny’s arrival. She settled herself, took a large sip, then addressed her brother, picking up the conversation from an hour before.

“So, Jamie, ye were about tae tell me how it goes wi’ Geneva?”

“Ah, the pregnancy is goin’ fine, seems tae be. Geneva herself, that’s another matter.”

Jenny and Murtagh made snorting sounds in unison. Brian moved his chair closer to his son and placed a reassuring hand on his arm.

“And yes, Janet Ellen Murray née Fraser, ye dinna have tae remind me of what ye said. I ken.” Jamie managed to raise a smile, contemplating the recent antics of the Dunsany family. “I had a wee chat with Geneva after Angus’ weddin’. Made it clear…”

“Agin!” Jenny muttered under her breath.

“Alright, Jenny, agin, aye, that we willna be together. I’m still no’ sure how much went intae her head though. Seems she wanted us tae have a gender reveal party together.”

A look of scorn came over Murtagh’s face. “A what? Gender reveal? Party? Why in God’s name would ye do that? It’s a boy, ye’ve already ‘revealed’ it tae us.”

“Weel, I’m no’ doin’ it, no couple-type things. But I don’t think she’s given up jes’ yet. And then, last week, I had a visitor.”

“No’ Geneva, fer a booty call?” Ian suggested.

“Nah, no’ Geneva… her mother, Louisa, standing on the doorstep, ringing the bell like the divil himself was after her. She jes’ popped by tae remind me of my responsibilities tae her daughter… and tae tell me tae give Claire up and be wi’ Geneva.”

Even across the table, Jamie could hear Jenny breathing heavily, trying to control her temper. “I kent it. They’re like two peas in a pod, her and her blasted mother. Jamie, what ye ever saw in that woman in the first place is beyond me. And now look at this mess!”

Brian quickly interrupted his daughter. “No, Jenny. Enough! Jamie doesna need that. He’s doin’ his best and we support him no matter what his decision. If he decides tae be with Geneva, then we will make the best o’ it.”

“Like hell we will!” Murtagh banged his empty glass on the table and poured himself a large refill. “I tell ye, lad, Claire is a rare lass, ye dinna want tae let her go. And if yon stuck-up madam joins this family, I will be looking fer alternative accommodation whenever she’s at Lallybroch. I canna be dealin’ wi’ her pretensions and vanity and selfishness. She shouldna be a Fraser.”

“Can everybody let me finish?” Jamie wanted to draw this conversation to a close and quickly. “I will say this once, and then the subject is closed. I’m having a son. I’m no’ havin’ a relationship wi’ his mother, nor do I ever intend tae. I intend ma future tae be with Claire, no matter what. So ye can all breathe again and let’s talk about the party tomorrow.”

***********

Claire relaxed in her train seat, by the window and with a table as requested. By placing a bag on the seat next to her, she hoped to deter anyone from sitting there. Three hours to herself to read, snooze or daydream didn’t happen very often and she wanted to make the most of it without interruption.

She breathed a sigh of relief as the 12:09 pulled out of the station with no one claiming the seat. Three hours and then Jamie would meet her at Inverness station and take her to Lallybroch.

The rhythmic sway of the carriage was very soothing. Claire didn’t bother with her book or magazine, she just rested her head and gazed out of the window as the scenery changed with every passing mile.

The party that night was an important event for the Frasers and Murrays. Claire was excited for several reasons. This would be the first Fraser family function she had been invited to and she relished that feeling of inclusion, of being part of something, of belonging.

Then there were the fireworks. Ever since Claire was a little girl, she loved watching fireworks. It had been an annual treat for Uncle Lamb to take her to the local display, where she would try to write her name in the air with a sparkler and would inevitably develop a sore neck from staring up into the sky, keen to enjoy every last flash of colour. There had never been any fireworks while she was with Frank, either literally or metaphorically.

The last reason was her costume. Jamie had stressed the importance of the costume. He had given her no clue about his, so Claire had been unsure what to do. Could she cut two holes in a white bed sheet and be a ghost, or was a more ‘polished’ outfit required?

Even Geillis, when asked, had been of no use. All her suggestions had a common theme: slutty nurse, slutty zombie, slutty witch. Eventually Claire decided to trust her own instinct and a bit of Google. And at last she had come up with a costume which she thought would do very nicely.

******

The sun was setting by the time Jamie and Claire were pulling into the driveway at Lallybroch. Lights had been set up along the path to the marquee and the whole area was a hive of activity with caterers, pyrotechnicians and entertainers rushing to and fro.

Claire gasped in amazement. “I didn’t realise it was such a big deal…“

Jamie smiled. “Aye. This was my mam’s thing, ye ken. She always loved this party, she loved the autumn afore the weather turned too cold, but still cool enough tae light the fires. And how she loved the fireworks. So Da does this every year for Mam.”

Jamie sniffed and cleared his throat. “Anyway, let's get inside. Ye must be cold. Everyone’s started getting ready. We never tell each other what our costumes are, it’s part of the fun.”

******

Claire examined her reflection in the mirror in Jamie’s room, Jamie having been banished to a guest bedroom. She knew she had spent too much money on a fancy dress costume, but viewing it now from all angles, it was money well spent.

Not knowing how close to stick to the scary Hallowe’en theme, the decision was made when she found the dress. Black and knee length with a floaty handkerchief hem, it had a tight laced bodice with shoulder straps, underneath which were off-the-shoulder, long, gauzy sleeves, worn with black stockings, black kitten-heeled ankle boots, and black lace fingerless gloves. Claire left her curls loose around her face and added the finishing touch- a witch’s pointed hat.

A face peeped round the door. A face with round glasses and a lightning scar drawn on his forehead. “Can I come in now?”

Claire laughed as Jamie opened the door fully. Clad in school trousers, white shirt and school tie, he also sported a Gryffindor scarf and black wizard robes. “That’s brilliant. A six foot three Harry Potter.”

Jamie walked over to Claire and put his arms around her. “And ye, Sassenach, are the bonniest witch I’ve ever seen.”

His hand moved across her bodice, his fingers softly grazing the tops of her breasts, just visible above the dress. “That dress is verra becoming.”

Claire ran her hands through his curls, pulling his head down to her.

“Well, hopefully we’ll both be coming later.” she whispered, her breath hot against his ear.

Jamie grinned. “Was that a wee witchy joke there, Sassenach? I shall be looking forward tae it, especially as I believe ye are wearing yer stockings agin. Am I right? Ah, tae see the white of yer luscious thighs against the black, ‘tis verra verra exciting…”

Clutching her bottom, he pulled her close.

“Jamie,” Claire giggled. “I think I’ve found your wand.”

******

The family gathered in the morning room, before joining the party. Claire could tell how seriously they took this evening. Wee Jamie was clearly Spider-Man and his sister, in her father's arms, was a cute little pumpkin. Claire instantly recognised Jenny and Ian as Sandy and Danny from Grease. Brian, in faded beige trousers, shirt and battered leather jacket was Indiana Jones with fedora in one hand and coiled whip in the other. Claire was relieved that she had made an effort with her dress.

“Claire, that dress is gorgeous. You make an amazing witch.” Jenny was full of praise.

“Thanks, you all look incredible too. But…” she spoke softly to Jenny, subtly looking over at Murtagh, who had just come in wearing jeans and a white t-shirt.

“Ah weel, ‘tis a bit of a joke now after sae many years. Murtagh doesna like tae dress up and Mam always told him that he had tae. So every year since Jamie and I were bairns he puts the same thing on. He’ll add a checked shirt, wool hat and his walking boots and be a lumberjack, he willna change. It’s jes’ a tradition, ye ken.”

“Mam, can we go now, pease?” Wee Jamie excitedly grabbed his mother’s hand. “I wanna go now.”

He turned to Claire. “Care bear… ye no’ a scary witch. Ye too pretty tae be scary.”

“Thank you, Jamie. And you’re a very handsome Spider-Man.” Claire looked up to see her Jamie staring intently at her. His gaze burned white hot into her very core. Everything around her disappeared, all that existed in that moment was Jamie. Swiftly he came to her side, their eyes locked together...

“Care bear… come wi’ me now.”

She felt a tug on her arm.

“C’mon… and ye too Unca. We’re goin’ tae the party.”

Laughing, they both looked down at Wee Jamie, excitedly pulling them out of the room.

******

The marquee was magical, Claire decided. There was no other word for it. Delicate wisps of cobwebs blew gently in the breeze, suspended from the ceiling next to hordes of friendly spiders. Cauldrons bubbled with coloured lights and smoke from dry ice. Pumpkin lanterns decorated the tables and fairy lights were strung around the walls.

Jamie stayed by Claire’s side, introducing her proudly to all the guests, only moving aside when his nephew dragged her onto the dance floor during the children’s disco. He watched as Claire, grinning broadly, tried to teach Wee Jamie to dance gangnam style. Murtagh, now clad in his full lumberjack costume, wandered over to stand beside him. He patted Jamie on the back and gave a thumbs up.

Nodding his head towards Claire, he spoke quietly in Jamie’s ear. “She's a fine lass, that one. Dinna let her go. This stramash wi’ the other will sort itself out. Make sure Claire kens that. She’ll be a fine addition tae our family.”

As the song ended, Wee Jamie ran back to Jenny and Claire made her way to Jamie, Murtagh having conveniently vanished. She fanned her face with her hands. Jamie could see tiny beads of sweat along her upper lip. He longed to taste them.

“I’m so hot. Can we get a bit of fresh air?”

“Aye, weel, it’ll soon be time fer fireworks, we need tae find a place tae view them. Wait here.”

Jamie rushed out of the marquee, but returned a couple of minutes later, carrying a small hold-all. “Come wi’ me.”

“Really, Mr. Fraser, leaving your guests, and…” Claire gestured to the bag. “It’s almost as if you had this planned.”

Together they left the party and moved deeper into the garden, Jamie leading the way, following an old familiar route, until they reached a secluded corner of the garden, on a slight slope. Unzipping the hold-all, Jamie pulled out some thick woolen blankets. He quickly unfolded one and set it on the ground before sitting down and pulling Claire down next to him. Unfolding another blanket, he wrapped it around her shoulders.

“Lie back, ‘tis the best place tae see the fireworks.” Jamie encouraged.

Claire laughed, but obliged. “Really, what a line… want to see some fireworks, come and lie down next to me. And how many girls have you brought here to ‘watch the fireworks’?”

Jamie could see her fingers making air quote movements. He leaned over and lightly kissed her lips, running his tongue along her upper lip. She tasted of spiced apples and whisky with the hint of salt lingering on her skin.

“No other lass here, ever. Ye are the first, Sassenach.”

Claire placed her hands under her head and stared up at the night sky. “You know I love fireworks, right? I told you that. It was an annual outing, me and Uncle Lamb, every bonfire night. But I’ve not told you why. It wasn’t just the excitement and the colours of the fireworks…”

They could hear everyone leaving the marquee now, ready for the fireworks to begin.

Claire continued. “When a firework goes off and you see it shooting high into the sky, I used to imagine that was a message to my parents from me. Then there’s a moment of dark before the burst of colours and sparks and light. And that was the message back from mum and dad, the huge explosion in the sky was them saying ‘we love you.’ Pretty fanciful, huh?”

“No’ fanciful at all, Sorcha. Jes’ a wee girl tryin’ tae find some comfort.”

Jamie could feel Claire’s heartbeat quicken as the first rocket blazed into the sky, trailing silver and gold before shattering into a shower of sparks. Appreciative ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ came from the audience below.

Claire shifted and adjusted the blanket to cover both of them. Her hand found his and clasped it tightly. Jamie brought hers to his lips.

“Claire, I want ye tae know that I love ye and I see ma future as yer future, weel, as our future together. I dinna want tae ever be wi’ out ye…”

Claire brought her fingertips to his lips. “I love you too, I never want to be without you either. I will be there for you with the baby and dealings with… well… you know. But, how can I put this? I think we have to be careful for the next few months. Do you know what I mean? Otherwise someone could cause problems.”

“Aye, I ken ye’re right. As long as we ken we’re goin’ tae be together, anything else can wait.”

Jamie brought his hand to the hem of Claire’s dress and rolled it up towards her hips. He could hear her breath become ragged as he found the soft skin just above her stocking and gently stroked it. His hand moved higher, pushing aside her lace knickers, his fingers fluttering at her very core before settling into a stronger rhythm. Claire closed her eyes and let the waves of pleasure wash over her as the fireworks reached their own crescendo, lighting up the sky.

[dcbbw]

Timing--Part 10 (Girl Talk)

Welcome to Part 10 of my fanfic series. It’s my version of events once the gang travels to LA to find Tariq. In my version, he refused to come forward and Riley made a painful decision, and we are just going forward from there. In this part, Madeleine and Riley have a face to face. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please excuse any typos and/or grammatical errors

All characters belong to Pixelberry.

Song Inspiration: New Amsterdam, The Love Language: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YTFtY266ayE

Word Count: 4117 (longish)

Tagging: @gennesaret @sirbeepsalot @aworldoffandoms @katedrakeohd @hopefulmoonobject @simsvetements @cora-nova @carabeth @custaroonie @liamxs-world @lauradowning29 @speedyoperarascalparty @thequeenofcronuts @wickedgypsymoon

Riley x Madeleine

Riley sat at her dressing table, wrapped in a towel, fixing her hair. She had just stepped out from a long, hot shower and the soap scented steam was still wafting from the bathroom. She frowned at herself in the mirror as she silently prayed for her hair to cooperate today. Please, please, please act right today. Today was the day she got her reputation back. The interview/press release was scheduled to be held in 3 hours, and then the Slutty Suitor would be dead. Thank God. She would be free. She and Liam could finally be together. Really together. She still found it hard to believe how much had happened in less than a week. Timing.

As she ran a comb through her still damp hair, her glance fell upon her neck. The bruises and hickeys were fading, but still somewhat noticeable. Gotta do something about that. She took a moment to look her neck over carefully. As wonderful as it felt when Liam left his mark on her there, be it with his lips or his hand, it was going to have to end. She could very well be the next Queen of Cordonia. She wanted to be remembered for her leadership, her love of the people…not her love of scarves.

She finally got her hair under control and proceeded with her morning routine. Lotion, perfume, underwear, hosiery and slip. She decided to forego a full makeup application since the television studio would apply her makeup, and had just finished applying her eyeliner when she heard a knock at the door.

Too early for breakfast. Liam had asked her last night what she wanted for breakfast, as he had done every night since the beginning of the engagement tour. He had suggested they share the meal together as a way to celebrate their freedom, but Riley wanted to wait until after the interview so as not to jinx anything. Not that Riley was superstitious, but if she learned nothing else in Cordonia, it was that you never knew who was pulling the strings, or when things would turn on a dime. Besides, breakfast was her time, and she did not share that time with anyone: not Liam, not Maxwell, not Hana.

Thinking it was Maxwell, Riley called, “Come in!”

The door opened and Madeleine walked in. She looked over at Riley, eyebrow arching as she spoke. “Well, well, well…if it isn’t the woman who is going to ruin Cordonia.”

Riley looked at the other woman. Madeleine looked magnificent. A white linen suit with black piping on the jacket cuffs and the skirt hem, a black silk shell, black heels, and a black pillbox hat with a dotted veil that covered her face. Underneath the hat, her hair was pulled back in an elegant chignon and her signature red lipstick adorned her lips. “Madeleine, you look very regal.”

“Every inch the Queen I will never get to be, huh?” Madeleine’s tone was sardonic.

“I concede you would have made a good Queen.” Riley’s tone was calm. What the hell is she doing here? “Ummm….look, as great as it is to see you so early in the morning, Madeleine, why are you here?”

“Just a talk.” Madeleine dropped her purse and hat in one of the plush oversized chairs in the room, and sat elegantly in another, her legs crossed at the ankles. “I should have known you would not stop until you got what you wanted.” She looked at Riley as she spoke, her face giving nothing away.  

As much as Riley wanted to keep up a cool and collected facade with Madeleine, the anger and frustration she felt mounting at her unexpected visitor’s appearance came through as she responded. “I wanted to clear my name! What the fuck, Madeleine?”

“You could have cleared your name, and still allowed me to be Queen. “ Madeleine’s tone held the slightest accusation in it. 

“You can try and hate me all you want, Maddy but it was Liam who broke it off with you. Not me. And lest you forget, he broke it off with me first. In front of the entire court. At least he gave you the respect of privacy.” Riley tamped down the slither of jealousy that still crawled through her when she remembered the night of Liam’s Coronation.

“You could have accepted the arrangement. You could have convinced Liam to accept it. I have never had any part of Liam. Ever. I just wanted to be Queen to the King. You could have been the wife; not lawfully, but where it mattered…behind closed doors.” Madeleine’s voice had a slight edge to it. “Everything I have worked my entire life for just fell in your lap.”

 She cannot be serious. “I worked twice as hard as any lady during the social season! I battled my ignorance of Cordonia and its customs, the ignorance of this Court, and had my name and reputation slandered. The other ladies had history and connections with Liam that I will never have. You had the favor of the King Father and Queen Mother! Nothing just landed in my lap.”

Madeleine snorted. “You had the favor of Liam himself.”

“A lot of good that did me.”

“And yet you are still in love with him.”

“Because it was the circumstances he found himself in! Just like you…you want to hate someone for circumstances beyond your control. Open your eyes…you are loving Cordonia the wrong way. Maybe you can do more for Cordonia now that you won’t be Queen.”

Madeleine let out a soft sigh. “Riley, I have told you this before, and I am going to repeat it. I do not hate you.”

“Really? So you’re here this morning to accuse me of preventing you from being Queen because you don’t hate me? You asked me to pick up your wedding ring because we’re besties?” Riley’s tone was sarcastic.

Madeleine shifted in the chair as if to get more comfortable. “I’m a pissed off person, who says and does pissed off things, to piss other people off.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

“All I’m saying is yes, I tend to cut deeply, but always with a dull blade.”

“Picking up that wedding ring cut me like a double edged sword.” Riley closed her eyes to stave off the flood of emotions that coursed through her as she remembered that day

Riley wandered into the jewelry shop, a mix of sadness, jealousy and anger running through her blood. She literally had to stop and compose herself before she could make it to the counter. When she lifted her head to head to the store manager, she saw the back of a man standing at the counter, perusing the jewelry locked beneath the glass. “Oh crap! It’s Drake. I would recognize that denim shirt anywhere”, Riley muttered under her breath as she continued to put one foot in front of the other, although the only thing she wanted to do was run back out the door and never return.

Drake turned as he heard someone come up behind him. “Brooks”, he said surprised. “Hey Drake.” Riley pushed her emotions aside, and slid into her friendly mask as easily as she could blink her eyes. The toll this….task was taking on her emotions was hers, and she was not in the mood to share.

Drake leaned back against the counter, arms folded across his chest “What brings you here?”

“I could ask the same of you”, she replied with a grin.

“Just looking for a wedding present for Liam.”

“In a jewelry shop?”

“Why not?” he asked defensively.

Riley laid a placating hand on his arm. “Just teasing, Big Guy.”

“So what are you doing here?” Drake asked curiously.

Drawing in a deep breath, Riley responded. “Picking up Madeleine’s wedding ring.”

Drake’s face fell, but his tone was hard. “Even for Madeleine, this is cold. A pretty low blow.”

Riley shrugged. “It is what it is. I just didn’t think their wedding date would arrive so quickly.”

“We’ll find Tariq, Brooks. We have to.” Drake’s tone was determined.

Riley smiled sadly at him, and turned to the manager, who hurried to the back room, returning with a black velvet ring box. Drake joined her as she opened the box to see the simple gold band inlaid with a pave of diamonds. Simple. Elegant. Classy. She blinked her eyes rapidly to stave off the burn of her tears.

“Huh”, Drake said. “I expected something more pretentious.”

“It’s beautiful”, Riley breathed. “You know, this is definitely not how I figured my wedding ring shopping day to go.”  And then she cried. Quietly at first, but then she felt her body heaving with the weight of the tears spilling from her eyes. The store manager discreetly went into the back room to give Riley and Drake some privacy. Drake’s strong arms went around her and held her tightly to his chest while he rubbed her back.

“Get it all out, Brooks.”

“I just thought….I thought….I wanted it to be me!” She sobbed into Drake’s shoulder.

“Nothing is set in stone just yet.”

“Why couldn’t he have picked me?? Why not me?”

Drake was at a loss for words, his anger and frustration against Liam choking off any words of reassurance. “Cordonia”, he said helplessly.

“Fuck Cordonia.”

Drake continued to rub Riley’s back fighting every urge he had to confess his feelings to her. “You and me both, Brooks.”

They stayed that way for a few more minutes, holding each other as Riley got herself together. “Thank you, Drake”, she said softly. “You are such a good friend to me.”

“Yeah, that’s me, the good friend.”

Something in his tone made her step back and search his face. “Drake, you do want to be friends, right?”

She knew Drake had felt something for her since that night at Applewood but he was the one who said that nothing could ever happen between them because of his friendship with Liam, and Liam’s feelings for her. So she had focused all of her attentions and efforts on Liam, and now here they were. All of them.

Drake looked into her eyes, red and puffy, and clearly concerned that she would lose both Liam and Drake.” I wouldn’t be friends with anyone else, Brooks.” He placed a light kiss on her forehead. “So how about we grab that ring, and you help me find my best friend a wedding gift?”

Riley opened her eyes and looked Madeleine squarely in the face. “I do not think I will ever fully forgive you for that. You proved to me that day that you were cold, calculating, and cunning. While I appreciate your…transparency, I tend to shy away from such levels of negativity.”

Madeleine looked contrite, but her voice was determined, with a hint of defensiveness. “I am practical, proactive, and need to know exactly who I am dealing with. I have no time for the niceties of Court, or the people who occupy it. I need to know who you are when tested, so I can prepare accordingly.”

“Prepare what?” Is she like a secret Olivia with dungeons and weapons?

“Myself. I was blindsided once. That will never happen again.” Madeleine’s voice was quiet and her gaze shifted from Riley’s face to the window.

Riley glanced at the wall clock and saw the time. Breakfast was coming! “Look, Maddy, as fascinating this trainwreck of a conversation has been, my breakfast is coming, and I need you to leave.”

“What’s coming with breakfast? Or should I ask who?” Madeleine asked suspiciously as her eyes narrowed.

Shit. “It isn’t what’s coming with breakfast, it is what I do during breakfast.”

A thin smile spread across Madeleine’s face. “Oh, this I have to hear! What do you do during breakfast?”

When did Madeleine become so nosy? Riley huffed. “Okay, fine. Liam orders breakfast for me every morning. When it comes, I sit in bed wearing a tiara while I eat it. I started doing it during the engagement tour. If I couldn’t be Queen, I could still be a princess.” Riley looked sheepish. “So now can you please leave?”

Madeleine stood there, looking at Riley for a long moment before she spoke. “I wanna be a breakfast princess too!”

“We are not friends, Madeleine! I don’t even share this with my friends!” Riley protested.

“I need a not friend.” Madeleine’s voice was steady, but her eyes were plaintive.

“A what now?”

“A not friend…someone you can speak freely with, and not worry about the judgment and the well-meaning bullshit friends say when they think they are helping you. I just want to grieve and vent and whatever else, without someone trying to pick me up or help me move on. Sometimes, a person just wants to stay stuck because life moves you along regardless, whether you’re ready to move forward or not.” Madeleine paused as she hugged herself, looking at the floor. “So, can I please be a breakfast princess with you, while we are not friends for a little while?”

Damnit! “Only because you gave my morning ritual a pretty cool name. You can undress in the closet; bring back two tiaras.”

Madeleine’s face lit up with a genuine smile as she clapped her hands together in excitement. “Be right back.”

Madeleine came back into the room stripped down to her slip, wearing a silver tiara on her head. She gave Riley the gold one.

“Are these real? They feel a little heavy. “

“I don’t think so. If they are, then I practically stole them from the shop proprietor with the price I paid. Picked them up at a trinket shop in Italy.”

Madeleine climbed into the bed beside Riley, plumping the pillows behind her. “Do we know what’s for breakfast?”

“Sausage, eggs, potatoes, fruit, toast, coffee, and I may have requested the makings for mimosas.”

As she continued to plump and adjust her pillows, Madeleine caught sight of the bruising on Riley’s neck and her eyes went wide. “What the hell happened to you?”

Riley gave her a knowing smile and said, “We like it rough.”

“Rough is handcuffs and anal. That is beyond rough….you look like you were mauled by some vampire werewolf hybrid! You two are barbaric.” Madeleine rolled her eyes.

Riley giggled at Madeleine’s tone of exaggerated shock. “There are a lot of moving parts at play here. Part of it is we do like it rough at times; part of it is we both get caught up in the passion. But the biggest part…”Riley’s voice grew thoughtful and her face scrunched in concentration as she tried to find the right words. “The biggest part is it is his way of letting me and others know I am his, that we are together. He cannot give me a ring yet to show the world how he feels, so he “marks” me to compensate. For him, he enjoys when I “mark” him because of the passion behind it, but I think he also wants to show he is desired as a man, not just as King.”

“Well, that’s just pathetic. And weird.”

Riley shrugged. “We all need validation in some form or another.”

“There are other places one can be marked.”

“He wants it to be known, to be seen.”

“And he is the one leading this country….” Madeleine shook her head.

The ladies were interrupted by a light knock on the door, followed by two servants entering with the breakfast cart. One of the servant’s eyes grew slightly wide at seeing Countess Madeleine wearing a tiara sitting in bed with Lady Riley, but she quickly composed herself, busying herself with setting up the breakfast trays while the other began preparing plates of food.

Riley smiled at both the ladies. “Good morning! Can we have mimosas to drink, instead of coffee? Leave the coffee though. We’ll probably need that after mimosas.”

“Of course, m’lady. His Majesty reminds you to meet him in an hour in the grand foyer to ensure arriving at the television studio with time to spare.”

“Of course. Thank you.” Riley nodded at the servants, who nodded back, and left the room.

Madeleine was nibbling on pineapple chunks as she cut her sausage. “What’s it like? Being in love with Liam? Having him be in love with you?”

Riley’s eyes narrowed as she turned to look at Madeleine. “Don’t you remember telling me being with Liam was like living a fairytale?”

Madeleine looked at her blankly. “I said that?”

“You did.” Riley ate a huge forkful of breakfast meat and potatoes.

Madeleine shrugged. “I was being a bitch.”

Riley sighed at Madeleine, but a smile spread over her face as she thought of Liam. “Being in love with Liam is what being in love with anyone is like. He completes my happiness, and I want to complete his. I want to be with him all the time, and in all ways. He makes me want to be a better person. I want to make him smile, I want to wipe his tears. I want him.... qualities, flaws and all.”

“Was there another you considered before choosing Liam?” Madeleine bit into a piece of toast.

Riley was silent a moment too long. “Maybe. But when I was ready to explore, they weren’t. Then the engagement tour tore me apart. I couldn’t stand having pieces of Liam here and there. Perfect time to explore options, but by then, I was head over heels for Liam, so nothing ever came of it.” Riley took a swallow of her mimosa. “Did you know I was planning to return to America? If Tariq had not come forward….I couldn’t watch him marry you.”

“He told me. You would have left him, when you just said you wanted his happiness. You make him happy.”

“Staying here would have made all of us miserable. I can’t see him with another, and if I were to find someone else, that would break his heart.” Riley looked into her glass. “He says I am his first love, and I know he is my last. If today weren’t happening, it would have been best to leave. Let us both pick up the pieces of our hearts and lives, and start over. Without each other.”

Madeleine drained her glass. “I want more champagne.”

“No orange juice?”

“I am done pretending with these drinks.”

As Riley poured more champagne for her, Madeleine prompted, “And having Liam be in love with you?”

“Having Liam in love with me means breakfast in bed with tiaras every morning, flowers every 4 days so I never have to see them die, moments when he talks my ear off, and moments of silence. It means learning to communicate with cryptic phrases and looks, instead of actual words. I have not had much of the fairytale yet, but for me, he is the fairytale.”

Riley turned to fully look at Madeleine. “How was he with you during the engagement tour?”

Madeleine ate some eggs before answering. “He treated me solicitously enough, but in the way a distant cousin treats you when you visit for the summer. They’re nice enough, they take you around, introduce you to their friends, but you know they would rather be with their friends than with you.”  

Madeleine pursed her lips as she debated something internally. “Can I tell you something?”

Riley nodded as she sipped her mimosa.

“Do you know why I wanted to be Queen so badly?”

“Your love and devotion to Cordonia?”

“I do love my country, but the real reason was so Leo would have to bow to me. Give me the respect he never gave me as a woman. Now that I won’t be Queen, I will never get what is owed me.” Madeleine’s voice held hints of regret and sadness.

“Bowing to a monarch is not respect; it’s protocol. Insurgents have been known to kneel, Madeleine.”

“Whatever it is, he would have had to give it to me.”

“Do you really think he left because of you?”

“Why do you think he left?” Madeleine asked curiously.

“Well, I do not know the complete story, so my opinion is a bit lacking in context, but I think Leo left because he fears responsibility. He fled the Crown, not you. Marriage to you was a casualty of war.”

“He could’ve taken me with him!” Madeleine said it softly, but it had the impact of a yell.

“Would you really have given up Cordonia for Leo?”

Madeleine looked at Riley, tears forming in her eyes. “Leo was my Liam.”

Riley’s breath caught in her throat. She had no words. Instead she set her tray aside, and reached in to hug Madeleine. Madeleine resisted for a moment, but eventually leaned into the hug, shuddering with silent sobs.

After a few minutes, Riley ventured a question. “Do you ever get over it? Does the wound ever heal?” She asked softly.

“No.” Madeleine’s response was muffled.

After a few more minutes, Riley whispered, “It’s time to get ready. Are you okay enough to do that?”

“I will be.” Madeleine pulled away and reached to take off her tiara. She held it out to Riley mutely.

“Would you like to keep it? Maybe start your own breakfast princess tradition?”

“Really?” Madeleine eyed Riley warily.

“Really! Every woman deserves to start their day as a princess.” Riley smiled at her warmly.

Madeleine smiled shyly. “Thank you, I think I would like that.”

The women headed into the closet, where they dressed in comfortable silence. Riley was wearing a black calf length dress with a matching jacket. She reached into a drawer to pull out a white scarf with a black paisley design. Silver earrings lay on the dressing table to complete the ensemble.

Madeleine came over to the dressing table. “Don’t wear the scarf…it will just draw attention your neck. Use makeup to camouflage, and wear these to draw attention to the neckline. In addition, it will symbolize your loyalty to Liam.” She held up a longer strand of oversized pearls. “And wear these as well.” She placed a pair of tear drop pearl earrings on the table, and began helping Riley apply concealer to her neck. When they were done, the two women locked eyes in the mirror, Madeleine’s hands resting on Riley’s shoulders. She cleared her throat before she spoke.

“From this day forward, it is going to be on you to know and remember these things. I wish I could tell you more, but this is what I know about him.” Riley nodded silently, waiting for Madeleine to continue.

“He runs late for everything court related, especially if he has Maxwell with him. You’ll need to be by his side when he gives speeches; he still has not learned to expect the unexpected, so anything that he is not prepared to answer renders him speechless. He does not think well on his feet. You have to do it for him. He prefers scotch to whiskey. Oh, he will drink whiskey with Drake, but alone, he always chooses scotch. And he loves you. Deeply. Madly. Completely.”

“Thank you.” Riley smiled at Madeleine in the mirror.

“Yes, yes. Let’s go before I get blamed for making everyone late.” Madeleine began gathering her belongings when there was a knock at the door, before the guards entered to escort the ladies downstairs.

As the ladies walked down the hall, flanked by the guards, Riley looked over at Madeleine. “You know, we are not friends.”

With a small smile Madeleine reached to grab Riley’s hand. “Nope, we aren’t”. Riley glanced down, then back up at Madeleine.

“A united front for Cordonia. It’s definitely not friends though.” Riley shook her head as she took Madeleine’s hand.

Madeleine looked over at Riley and her glance fell to her neck. She marveled at how well the makeup and pearls hid the markings.  “Rough, huh? How rough? Whips? Thigh high boots with your heel on his neck?  I need details!”

“Shut up, Madeleine.” Riley continued walking, looking straight ahead while suppressing a smile.

“Long live Kinky King”, Madeleine murmured.

“Not friends, Madeleine!”

[elejah-wonderland]

Game Of Love/4

Fanfiction

Part 4

Joel Goran x reader

Ft. Klaroline and other TVD/TO characters, as well as Saving Hope characters. 

a/n: this is, as my friend @rissyrapp20 said - Joel Goran meets the Mystic Falls/NOLA gang. But it is totally AU- Klaus Mikaelson is a surgeon, and so Y/N and Caroline Forbes. 

There is a lot of drama- quite a lot going on. LOL. Also, this is an extra long part. I hope you enjoy it. Thanks so much for reading and liking, and reblogging. Luv ya, guys. xoxo

Masterlist 

tags @rissyrapp20 @dendrite-lover @arivalappears @cassienoble2000 @captainshurley @elejahforever @hides2000 @goddessofthunder112

____

"So, he kissed you on the cheek??"- Caroline said astonished-"in front of everyone? Just like that?"

"Well, yeah. Just like that."- Y/N replied.

"Well, you and him are now No.1 on the Hospital’s gossip list. They saw you take him by the hand the other night, and now he kissed you on the cheek- Jo has already painted you black. With Alex, especially."

"And - nothing is going on with me and him."- Y/N said sighing and added-"yeah, I heard about Jo telling Alex about me and Kai, probably about Stefan as well. And Alex kind of talked to me about - well, it was more like telling me that he would break my heart, because Joel doesn't know how to love."

"Right."- Caroline slipped.

"I tried to find him later. But he left for New Zealand because he had some vacation time."- Y/N said.

"So, what now? I mean- are you in a friend zone now? What?"

"It can't be anything. He is emotionally wrecked."- Y/N said-"and I - can't get into anything with him till he - HUH- this was doomed from the beginning. I just had a one night stand with him- and now-"

"Now, you are in love with him."- Caroline stated.

"And now I am in love with him!"- Y/N said huffing and puffing. She then turned the tables on her sister and said-"if we are no1 on gossip list, you and Klaus are no2."

"I know."- Caroline said and continued-"last night, Rayna and I met Rebekah in Rousseau's. She called me a slutty bitch and a homewrecker. And I called her the same back, bringing Damon up. Sorry. I just- couldn't control myself. She so ticks me off."

"I know. She is always so high and mighty."- Y/N said-"but- what is it really now with you and Klaus?"

Caroline sighed a little now flashing back at her and Klaus' little  after-birthday-party hook up in the Grill's storage room.

Flashback

Straightening her dress now, Caroline looked at Klaus, who zipped his jeans and put his T-shirt back on. He looked back at her with a sweet smirk on.

"Oh, we have to stop this."- Caroline said ruffling her hair.

"Why?"- Klaus now neared her again, and placed a sweet little kiss, brushing his hands through her hair, adding-"you are so beautiful and sexy."

Caroline gulped now trying to keep her head straight-

"Because of you- and you being married and I just- don't want this to be about sex. And I get that you are getting out of something long-term and - I don't want to push you into anything. There is work and your ex-wife, and I just- I am drawing the line here!"

Before Klaus could say anything, Caroline snaked out of his arms and walked out.

"Have you talked to him afterwards?"- Y/N asked.

"Yeah."- Caroline replied- now retelling her friend  the  conversation she and the Attending had at a break in the hospital the following day-

Flashback

Klaus found Caroline sitting  in the little atrium of the hospital.

"May I?"- Klaus asked if he could sit at the bench next to her.

"Sure."- Caroline said shortly.

"About yesterday"- Klaus started-

"Hey- we don't have to."

"Yes, but still- I need to say this though. I want you to know that  I really think that you are so beautiful, sexy and smart. I hope I didn't make you feel like I used you. It was never my intention"

"You didn't."- she cut in-" I had fun, too. It's ok, really."

Klaus looked down and then at her-

"I am really sorry can't give you more."

"As I said -it's ok. I have patients to see."

Caroline then got up and walked away.

"He can't give me more, which I totally understand, and- it's not like we've been together or something.  How could I be so head over heels, and I've just known him like five minutes."- Caroline sighed 

"It happens. Comes out of nowhere and just kicks you right in the heart."- Y/N said, thinking of Joel.

¤

At the same time 

At  Rousseau's

Klaus was out with a newly made friends, Vincent Griffith and Alaric Saltzman.

Oliver Queen now walked in, and Alaric shouted a warm greeting at his friend from Med school.

"Hey, you made it!!"- both men now gave each other a welcoming pat on the shoulder.

 "Gentleman, let me introduce my buddy- Dr Oliver Queen."- Alaric said-”This is Klaus Mikaelson and Vince, I told you about him.”

"You are replacing Alex, when she goes for maternity leave? But that's like months away?"- Vincent said as he shook Oliver’s hand.

"Yes."- Oliver said-"but the Fells wanted me to start now. And I had nothing better to do with my life."

"You are telling me New York got really boring?"- Klaus then said taking a swag of beer.

"A change of scenery is always good."- Oliver replied.

Klaus smirked a little and then said-"You are right there."

"This Hospital is the Top Gun in the medical teaching hospitals, and I really wanted to see if you are really the best of the best. And teach the best of the best."- Oliver then said.

They got him a beer now and Klaus, together with Vincent said-

"Welcome."

¤¤¤¤

In the Mikaelson Mansion

Esther entered the study, where Mikael already waited for her.

"What is it?"- Esther asked coldly.

"I have decided that I will tell him the truth."

"Now, after alk this time?"- Esther said-"Why?"

"Because- his girlfriend is pregnant, and I want my grandchild to be part of this family. I can't bear it - not to know him or her- I just- it is not right."- Mikael said.

"Right?"- Esther said taking a moment's thought-"Mary decided that she was not going to tell him, and we all agreed that will keep it that way."

"But that- all of that doesn't matter anymore, does it? Mary is gone. And Joel is a grown man now. He - will understand. We all made mistakes. He, himself has done plenty."

"Yes, we've all made mistakes, and look how many lives got messed up over it."- Esther reminded Mikael of the consequences his and Mary's affair had on their lives.

"I know. I regret it deeply. And I wish, I could turn back time, but I can't. But let's make it right somehow."- Mikael said.

"How can we make it right after so many years. It could be much worse. Did she ever tell her husband about Joel not being his son?"

"No. As far as I know."- Mikael said.

"There you go. That man raised him as his own, and now you would take the only family his got away from him."- Esther then said.

"What are you talking about? The man left them when he was 7 and went to New Zealand. And if Mary hadn't died, Joel would never really know him - "

"You kept on seeing one another afterwards, didn't you?"- Esther now said angered.

"I have not."- Mikaels said.

"I don't believe you."- Esther shot at her husband.

"I swear on our children's lives!"- Mikael then said.

"Don't you dare use them."

"I swear, Esther."-Mikael insisted.

"Whatever."- Esther said-"I - you need to know that this will bring shock waves throughout the family. Just think about it."

Esther then left the study. Mikael was left thinking about all, especially the past.

Flashback

38 years ago

"I am pregnant."- Mary Goran said to Mikael as she met him in the Grill, a couple of months after she broke it off with him.

Mikael smiled taking hold of the woman's hand warmly- "Oh, this is so- wonderful."

"Is it?"- Mary said-"I don't know. I- don't know what to do."

"I love you, Mary. And I am ready to do anything. "

"How can you say this? You have a two- year old son. Your family needs you. This not right, whatever we feel. It just is not. I don't know why I have even called you."

"Because you love me, and I love you. And, I know that I have a young family and- oh, I wish I have met you before."

"I wish so many things- and- oh, I am sorry that I- came here."

Mary now started crying. She was completely overwhelmed with the situation.

"We will figure something out."- Mikael tried to comfort her.

Mary abruptly pulled herself together, and walked out of the diner.

Mikael was an emotional wreck after having found out about Mary being pregnant with his child. And he had a family, a wife, he had married, so two families could become even bigger. His father-in-law, who was Virginia stat senator at the time, made sure that Mary stayed with her husband, and Mikael never divorced Esther.

¤¤¤

A few days later

Y/N's day started in the ER, and a colleague now confronting her about the Joel gossip.

"There was a bet on which intern Joel will sleep with first."

Y/N looked at her fellow intern furiously-

"What??? This is disgusting!"

"I know. It's totally lame."- Sam said.

"Who was it?"- Y/N now demanded to know.

"Y/N, I know it is completely out of order. But-"

"I want to know."- Y/N was not letting it go.

"I didn't want to stir shit."- Sam tried to calm Y/N down.

"Tell me!"- Y/N sifted anger making her chestnut eyes darken.

"Brad."- Sam now said.

"Right."- Y/N said and they both now went to take care of the patients, but as she had a break, Y/N went to find the young resident. And confronted him about it in front of the whole cafeteria.

She got some dollar bills out and said-

"How much is a bet it for an ass of the year?

The young resident looked at her astonished but it was clear that she had found out about the bet on Joel and the female interns. He started muttering something but Y/N just continued-

"Joel is flawed on so many levels, yes. He made huge mistakes.But unlike you, he is a good and warm person, and you are a sorry excuse for a human being!"

The whole cafeteria now applauded her. She now turned around and walked out of the place. 

🎃 That night, at home, as she went through a few case studies, Y/N made herself some cocoa and sat down on the bay window. Now there was again this one person on her mind, wondering how he was doing. No matter how much she tried not to feel anything more than just friendship towards Joel, her heart didn’t seem to want to listen to her. She looked out in the night, drawing a deep breath and then went back to the case studied.

A few days later

Caroline was saying bye to Y/N,  as she pulled a night shift and Elena just got in the hospital and already had her hands full with a presentation she was given to work on. And as she was waving Caroline off, her eyes now caught a smiling Rock Star of Orthopaedics. 

"Hey"- Joel greeted Elena and Caroline as he came up to them.

Caroline greeted him back and excused herself and left them to catch up.

"Hey"- Y/N said with a little mental gulp-"so, how was New Zealand?"

"Good. Actually really good."- Joel said-"sorry- I just left. After I talked to the Chief of staff, it was kind of a spur of the moment thing. I needed to - just go. Change the scenery, you know, after everything that -"

"Yeah, I do."- Y/N said and then there was a moment when they both went quiet and Y/N now tried to find to ask something more, and as she wanted to ask how his father was, Joel got a small box out of his bag handing it clumsily to her saying-

"Here. A happy belated - something."

"Oh"- Y/N exclaimed surprised. She opened it and it was a very unusual pendant she had seen.

"This is koru. It's Maori.”-Joel explained clumsily-”Symbolizes awakening, fresh beginnings, rebirth. It's kind of what you did for me the other night. And so I- well- "

Y/N looked at him with a small smile curling up on her lips and slipped quite an emotional thank you. Now the kiss on the cheek made sense. It was a thank you. He could see that she was really moved by the gift.

"In the last couple of days- and - well already on the plane-  I had so much time to think. About everything."- Joel now said-"and - well- "- he was suddenly terribly nervous again. He smiled somewhat nervously and said -"Later? Drink? Rousseau's?"

"Yes. See you there."- Y/N said.

"Ok."- Joel said. 

Y/N looked at the pendant and her heart and head were now more than ever in total confusion, but Joel's wasn't far behind either. He was nervous. He had never been nervous before. Something happened. Could he be in love with her? He just knew that she didn't leave his mind, all the time he was away. 

“Around 8?”- Y/N said .

“Yeah.”- Joel said and now gestured towards the elevator.

Y/N nodded and both then went to whatever was next on the agenda for the day.

¤

As Y/N called Caroline later to tell her that she kind of has this non-date thing, the blonde went now all in what-are-you-going-to-wear, what-will-do-with-your-hair, and Y/N answered simply that she had no plans to dress up.

“It’s only a drink. There is nothing to it, really”

“Nothing? Are you serious? He bought you jewellery!”- Caroline said with a duh voice.

“It’s a thank you thing”- Y/N said-”for being there and listening to him- and that is all”

“Right - tell yourself that. Do what you want.Ok. I’m going back to sleep cuz that double shift killed me.”- Caroline said yawning and hung up.

Y/N went off to her locker, to change. As they never knew how long they would stay in the hospital, she always had a couple of T-shirts and sweaters ready, as well as a pair of jeans. Casual was her style since - well, always. Now, having changed, she put her boots on and leather jacket on. She didn’t bother about the hair at all. She simply undid the pun and combed it a bit. This was not really a date, and she was not Cinderella. Just an intern. And she was meeting a friend for a drink. 

Since, there was still more than an hour till Joel finished his shift, Y/N called Bonnie and met up with her. Since Caroline was not available to listen to her analysing every detail of her heart, Bonnie was her other bestie, who never minded being there for her. Bonnie had a lot to discuss as well, as the night of the birthday lip sync birthday thing, the chemist also went down the line as he friends and hooked up with Kol Mikaelson.

But she now let Y/N talk first.

"Is this a gift wrapped up as a thank you or am I imagining something more? Look, how beautiful it is."- Y/N showed her friend Joel's gift and the meaning behind it.

"I think a thank you and something more is wrapped in it."- Bonnie said.

"You think? I don't know why I am going mad here over it? I can't start anything with him."

"You think he wants to start something?"- Bonnie questioned.

"Knowing him, not really. And then it will be a kind of a rebound thing, although it is not really that."- Y/N said sighing a bit.

"You are overanalyzing everything. Which something you totally do, and then don't listen to your head."- Bonnie reminded Y/N of her past mistakes.

"Caroline said that I am doing again the same thing I did with Kai."- Y/N said.

"Believing that you can change him because you loved him?!"- Bonnie stated.

"Yeah. Huh- but it feels like- it isn't so- like - I didn't know."

"He needs to want to change and break away from his past behaviour."- Bonnie said.

"I think that this thing with this guy dying shook him to the ground."- Y/N said.

"This is some life changing moment."- Bonnie said.

"He said that he felt like he died, like something broke inside of him."- Y/N remembered her and Joel's conversation the night before he left for New Zealand.

"What about Alex and him? There is also the kid."- Bonnie reminded Y/N.

Y/N now told her friends that Alex had talked to her, as the surgeon had presumed that Joel and Y/N had already started something.

"Can things be even more complicated?"- Elena said-"You know what is mad actually? He might not want to be anything but friends, which I totally get. The last thing he needs is a new relationship. I need to let this go."

"Yeah, you need to let this go."- Bonnie said.

Elena nodded, and her heart tried so hard to dismiss the idea that Joel may not have feelings for her.

"But you won't be able to let this go?"- Bonnie then said as she saw her friend play with the pendant all huffed up.

"Why does it have to be so complicated? I always fall for the wrong guy!"

"What you need to do is actually find out how he feels. And if he doesn't feel like you feel, or anything remotely, then you will have to let this go."- Bonnie said and with that their conversation ended as Joel now walked in the bar.

Bonnie, who was usually a very subtle person, this time did the opposite. As Joel got to the table they were sitting at, she greeted him and then made an excuse that she had to go.

"I hope it is not because of me."- Joel said.

"No. She was like leaving the last half hour, but I just kept her talking about - the upcoming charity thing she is busy with."- Y/N fibbed a little.

"Right. You want the same?"- he now asked about the drink.

"I am fine. I am kind of hungry, one more cocktail would completely knock me out."

"Well, do you want to go and grab something? I am kind of hungry, too."- Joel said.

"Yeah- cuz it’s been a long day. You know Sophie's Food Heaven?"- Y/N asked.

"Of course."- Joel said-"comfort food 100%. Whenever I eat there, I have to go to the gym straight after."

"So true. Caroline and I went there the other day and we were so full that we thought we wouldn't need to eat the next two days."- Y/N said grabbing her bag now-"so you go there a lot?"

"It's a place I used to go with my mom, especially when she would do long shifts at the hospital."- Joel said.

"Hospital?"- Y/N was puzzled.

"Didn't I tell you that she was a nurse?"

"No. But it makes perfect sense. Did she meet your dad there?"- Y/N asked.

"No. They met at the Whitmore Medical School. They both were teaching there at the time. He was working at the Charlottesville Memorial."- Joel explained and then said-"Your car? My car?"

"Ahm- I'll go with mine. Meet you there."- Y/N said.

"Ok."- Joel said and then went to his car.

¤

Elsewhere

Mikaelson Mansion

Klaus went to his parent's house to meet up with Camille, to try and talk to her about the divorce settlement.

"I don't want a divorce. I stopped the proceedings."- Camille said-"I want us to go to marriage counseling. I want to save our marriage."

Klaus shook with his head in negation.

"Why?"- she continued-"Why would you not try? We loved each other. We - both made a mistake. We just fell in a rut and - then things happened. You slept with her and then I slept with Marcel, just to get back at you. But I didn't stop loving you. We can find the way out of this."

"Yes. There is a way out of this and -"- Klaus stopped there for a second looking at his wife. She was a dear, sweet woman. Loving. And he hated hurting her. He hated the whole situation, but he had to now say it.

"I- don't love you anymore. I am so sorry- but it is- the truth. I should have told you that already in New Orleans, and save you from all this -"

Before he could finish the sentence, Camille slapped him.

Whether the slap was justified or not, Camille was at the end with her nerves and the last words provocated her now shouting at him to get out.

Klaus made a little sigh and walked out of the room, stumbling on his sister Freya as he walked down the long corridor.

"Klaus?"- Freya ran after her brother.

He ignored her and now, as he got out of the Mansion got into his car, put his foot on the accelerator, driving off like a lightning.

😍

In Sophie's Food Heaven Diner

Sophie Deveraux, who knew Joel since he was a kid, watched Joel and Y/N for a little while as they were chatting away quite happy and relaxed. Very rarely did she see him with a woman there. The waiter got the desert and as he walked to their table, Sophie now went with him.

"Hi. I hope the steak was good."- Sophie said.

"Perfect."- Joel said.

"Absolutely great."- Y/N complimented the Chef.

"She is the Chef/owner. Sophie Deveraux."- Joel said introducing her to Y/N.

"Nice to meet you."- Y/N said.

"Nice to meet you, too."- Sophie said-"so good to finally meet Joel's girlfriend."

"I am- we are not-"- Y/N said.

Joel was like what the heck Soph. And knowing how straight forward she was she now said-

"You could have fooled me. This dinner is on the house. Enjoy."

"What?"- Y/Na was beyond surprised.

"We go way back."- Joel said and explained that he knew Sophie when they were kids- and now told Y/N something that kind of made him somewhat blush-

"She was the first girl I kissed and - yeah. And she just has this thing- I am allowed to  comment."

"And a free meal."- Y/N said-"so you are friends with a girl."

"Ha?"- Joel looked at Y/N a bit gone out.

"Ah, sorry. It was just- ok, I heard you say that you don't believe that man and women can be friends.Sorry."

"Well, it is something I said- and something- I so regret saying - I am really pathetic, aren’t I? So lame. I've said and done so many stupid things. "

"Hey. I didn't want to make you feel bad."

"You didn't."- Joel said-"I went and talked to a friend of mine, also from my childhood. She is Maori. She is a doctor, but a spiritual woman too. We talked about stuff and - you know- Selina's husband -and everything that had happened recently "

"Joel-”- Y/N said in a dear manner.

"I am not religious. I am a surgeon, and I know how the body works. She talked about the soul and that I have to connect with it again. Get to my wairua. She said also that I don't believe in love. That I don't know how to be loved, and give love, and that I-  But that I will know it only then when I find my soul. Huh. Here we are with that stuff - again."- Joel now sighed-”I so didn’t want this evening to be like a therapy session.”

"It's ok. It’ s good to talk ”- Y/N reassured the dishy surgeon.

"Thank you, but I - don't want to think that I am - using you as a shoulder to- cry on. Because this is the last thing that I want."

"It's ok to talk. You are not weak if you have to talk about heavy stuff. It's human."- Y/N said.

Joel smiled a little now and added- "Did someone ever tell you that you have that kind of bold bossy thing - in your eyes-"

"Yeah."- Y/N said chuckling a bit-"since I was born. Although Caroline is far bossier and more ambitious. She was twice elected as the President of the class."

“Oh, I can imagine. They way she is, soon she will take over as Chief of staff before she gets to be Resident.”- Joel said remembering the way Caroline sorted a situation out among her fellow interns and Residents.

“Well, you would not believe that once upon a time she was a really shy and insecure girl”

“I can’t see that.”- Joel said and now took a scoop of the apple pie and ice- cream.

The conversation now swayed to the her and Caroline’s High School days and all their shenanigans. 

A little later, as they got out of the Diner, with Joel finally convincing Sophie to let him pay the bill, they each stood for a second before they got into their respective cars-

"This was like- one of the best - dinner thing I had in a long time."- Joel said.

"Good. Next time it is on me."- Y/N said-"Or maybe we should let Sophie buy us a meal."- she referred to the silly negotiations he and Sophie had a few minutes ago.

"Yeah. Why the hell not. Then we will get all of the menu."

"Ok. Thanks for this- food."- Y/N said with a tiny smile curling up on her lips. 

"You’re welcome."- Joel said.

And then there was awkwardness. And to cut it, Y/N now said- "Tomorrow"

"Yeah, tomorrow."

Y/N nodded a little with a smile and went into her car.

Joel got into his car and took a moment, watching her drive off. He smiled a little as his emotions danced up the way they had never done before. And he so wanted to go after her and tell her that she freed his soul. How? When? He could not pinpoint it. Like it mattered. Everything with her was so effortless and made him feel good and all so fuzzy inside.  He now started the engine and .

A little later, he walked to her apartment and rang the bell.

Y/N opened the door and was surprised to see him there.

"Ahm, hey- did you forget something?"

"Yes, kind of- hm"- Joel smiled nervoulsy-"I forgot- well, to tell you that- tonight was kind of amazing- and - God- this is- I - just-"

His heart wanted to actually say this-”Before all I heard was silence,Life was stringing me along, Then you came and you cut me loose, And now  I'm dancin' on to your heartbeat, And when you're gone, I feel incomplete,So if you want the truth-I just wanna be part of your symphony”

"What?"- Y/N felt like her heart was going to burst as all her predictions and all she had felt now were coming to light.

Joel moved clumsily with his head aside and now said-"I think that I-m in love with you."

Y/N now smiled at him and replied-

"I think that I - am, too."

Joel now was kind of stunned, looking at her seriousl, emotions flying high,  and slipped a little-

"You are?"

Y/N nodded.

He now entered the apartment and kissed her.

Caroline now stormed out of her room and cut in the middle of the Y/N and Joel’s kiss saying-

"Klaus - has been in a car accident. It's not good."

“What? How? When?”- both Joel and Y/N now looked at Caroline, who looked for her car keys.

Joel’s pager now went off, and then said to Y/N and Caroline-

“I’ll drive”

Caroline nodded and all three of them rushed to the hospital.

 __________

[gimmesumsuga]

BTS Reaction - Under the table smut

Seokjin

In all fairness, you started it.  Jin's wearing a new shirt tonight – it’s salmom coloured and straining to fit across his broad shoulders and chest – and he’d looked so handsome that you just couldn’t help but give his thigh a good squeeze under the table, that squeeze turning into a caress that gradually works it’s way higher the more carried away you get.  Jin isn’t reacting at all, eating calmly, making small talk with the BigHit bosses like you’re barely even there, and it isn’t until you get really frustrated and run your palm across his lap that you realise you’re having any kind of effect at all.  He’s rock hard, member straining against the confining material where it’s tucked to the left as usual, and when you give it a firm squeeze you finally see a tiny slip on Jin's face; his eye twitching slightly.  While the rest of the men at the table are laughing at a joke he made he takes the chance to yank your hand away by the wrist, hissing in your ear.  

“You just wait till I get you home.  You’re not gonna sit down for a week.”

Yoongi

You’re going to die soon if Yoongi doesn’t give you some relief; you’re fairly certain of that.  He’s been denying you an orgasm for days, bringing you to the brink again and again but always stopping just when it’s getting good, and it’s leaving you a jittery, needy mess.  You’re almost permanently wet and Yoongi won’t even let you wear your underwear, which seems particularly mean when you’ve been invited out for a meal with the other members.  You can tell from the moment you sit down at the table that the very last thing on Yoongi's mind is food – the smirk he reserves solely for you makes it very clear – and as soon as your bottom hits the chair he’s pulling on the thigh closest to him to open up your legs.  His long, slender fingers slide through your wet folds, alternating between toying with your clit and slipping inside whilst he innocently inspects his menu and you try not to fall apart next to him.  You bite your lip in panic, realising that your orgasm is approaching far too fast for you to stop it, and that this is exactly what he’d been planning when he’d been denying you so fanatically until now.  He leans close to you, pads of his fingers stroking your g-spot, his breath hot in your ear.  

“Cum for me now, babygirl.”

Hoseok

Why on earth you ever agreed to combine Hobi's end of tour with going to dinner at your parents is beyond you.  You haven’t seen each in almost a month and by the way your boyfriend can’t keep his eyes off you, you’re guessing he missed you just as much as you missed him. It’s getting to be a bit of a problem, actually, because even as he’s supposed be impressing your father and charming your mother, Hobi's having difficulty stopping himself oggling your cleavage, his hand moving restlessly on your thigh under the table.  The moment your parents turn their back he’s all over you, trailing kisses all over your neck and murmuring how much he’s missed you, how delicious you look and how he can’t wait to get you home.  It isn’t long before his over-excited hand starts to glide further up your thigh, fingertips skirting along the edge of your panties as you glance nervously to the kitchen doorway and try to hold back a moan when he pulls them to the side to tease your entrance.  His long finger has only just slipped inside when suddenly your mother calls his name from the kitchen and makes you both jump, Hobi withdrawing his hand so sharply you’d think he’d been burned.  He smiles guiltily at you, rising from his seat to go and help her like she asked; but not before adjusting his erection and sucking your juices off of his finger with a wink.  

“I know what I’d rather be eating tonight, baby.” 

Namjoon

You’re not exactly what made you think that teasing Namjoon would be a good idea.  In a moment of madness you’d decided it was smart to wear that slutty dress you know he hates to dinner with the other members, and to put on that particular shade of lipstick that he’s so fond of smearing around your mouth whilst he fucks your throat.  You go out of your way to order a plate full of pasta that you suck and twirl around your tongue, and strawberries that you put whole into your mouth to take a sumptuous bite out of as you hold Joonie’s unflinching gaze.  When you order a cocktail complete with cherry to finish off the night, twisting the stem around your tongue, his patience finally snaps.  He grabs hold of your hand and shoves it under the table, placing it directly onto his crotch as he glares at you, uncaring whether the other boys notice or not. He’s ridiculously hard, leaking so much pre-cum that it’s started to seep through his boxers and through his trouser leg to form a wet patch.  Namjoon presses your hand down hard against him, biting on his bottom lip and flexing his hips up, disguising it as shifting in his seat.  When you start to palm him in earnest he lets go of your hand and wraps it around the back of your neck instead, squeezing as he leans close to growl lowly in your ear.

“Is this what you wanted, kitten?  You have no idea what I’m gonna do to you once I get you alone.” 

Jimin

From the very moment Jimin had come home tonight he’d been needy.  The whole time you’d been getting ready he’d trailed after you around the apartment, looping his arms around your waist and nuzzling against your neck any chance he got, vying for your attention.  He couldn’t have it, though, not tonight.  Tonight you’re going out with your group of friends for one of their birthdays, and Jimin’s sexual appetite has made you miss enough social events already without missing this one too.  He’s no better at the meal, mewling in your ear that he wants to go and play, deliberately misbehaving in an attempt to break your resolve so you’ll take him home and punish him like he so wants.  His hands are insistent, pawing their way up your thighs under the table no matter how much you try to subtly push him away.  Jimin runs his fingers over the top of your panties, through the outline of your slick folds, and it’s at that moment you decide you’ve had enough. You purposefully drop your cutlery under the table when the cake arrives, knowing everyone will be distracted, and when you sweetly ask him to retrieve it Jimin’s face lights up like all his Christmases have come at once.  He immediately ducks under the table as you slouch in your chair, grabbing a fistful of his hair and pulling his face towards your core, spreading your legs wide. He drags your panties to the side eagerly as he kneels below the table, completely hidden from view, and for the entirety of the time your friends are singing Jimin’s lapping up your juices like he’s a man dying of thirst.  It pains you to push him away when they’re done, drawing him out from under the table with your knife and fork in his hands and a wide smile on his shining lips.    

“You’re so tasty mommy… can I have you instead of cake?” 

Taehyung

You’ve never spent quite so long getting ready to go out as you have done tonight, and you know it’s all because Taehyung and all his friends are going to be there.  You’ve had your eye on him from the very moment you met, and tonight provides the perfect opportunity for you to find out if he’s interested or not.  You’re sure you’ve caught him looking before, and by the way his mouth drop open and his eyes widen when you walk into the club with a smile and a wave makes you fairly certain that he’s had his eye on you too.  You have a few drinks and dance together for a while, the crowded dance floor giving you the perfect excuse to get up close and personal, your arms around his neck, hips locked together in a slow grind that has his eyes darkening with desire.  When it comes time to sit down there’s no room at the booth for you, but Tae, ever the gentleman, spreads his legs and pats the space in between in invitation, smirking. Gentleman?  Yeah right. As soon as you’re hidden beneath the drink-laden table Taehyung’s hands are on the inside of your thighs, spreading them apart so your dress rides up to your hips and he can slip his fingers past your panties, his erection pressing hard into the small of your back.

“You’re coming home with me, beautiful.”

Jungkook

The thought of being your plus one had initially made Jungkook really nervous. He hadn’t really met many of your family members except your mom and dad, and he’d only met your friends once or twice, so being sat all on his own in the church pews as you walked behind your sister as her bridesmaid wasn’t initially very appealing to him. He soon changes his mind when he sees you though; you look stunning in your floor length gown with its sweetheart neckline, the soft mounds of your breasts almost spilling out over the top as you walk.  The hard-on he gets watching you during the ceremony won’t go away, and by the time you’re sat waiting for your three-course meal he’s becoming increasingly restless.  You ask him what’s wrong as he shifts in his seat, frowning at the pained expression on his face.  His hands disappear under the table cloth for a moment, fumbling with something, and then suddenly he’s pulling your hand under there too.  You have to hold back a gasp when he guides your hand onto his throbbing cock, moving it up and down the length of him under the table, the button and fly of his pants hanging wide open.  It’s so sinful, touching him like this in public, not even the barrier of clothes in the way.  If someone lifted the tablecloth now they’d see his heavy member resting in your palm, the pre-cum leaking from the tip, and they’d understand why Jungkook is clenching his jaw so hard, a deadly serious look on his face.  

“Don’t stop Jagi.  I’ll warn you before I cum.”

@btsiguess - here you go sweetie <3 <3

[lubdubsworld]

Under my skin. ( Namjoon/Oc)

Chapter 6

Author’s note : i have no idea how photography works. it’s mostly me trying to sound intelligent so excuse me if it’s inaccurate. 

“Your Id , and the back pass. There’s a small passage way to the left, at the end of this corridor. Take the first right and studio 6 is the thrid door on the left. The Boys won’t be here for another hour or so but the photographer is already here and he’s really looking forward to meeting you.” The kind receptionist checks through my bag and hands it back, smiling widely as she points out the way and I check my phone again to see if Yoongi has replied to my text.

nope. 

Oh, well. 

I slipped my backpack on and quickly made my way to the studio, only getting lost once and asking one of the younger trainees for directions before finally reaching the studio. 

The photographer is Lee Jeon Seok , a very famous fashion photographer with a pretty impressive portfolio. He’s also relatively young, late twenties or early thirties , tall and strapping with a nice bright smile. 

He’s also a little obvious with the staring.

“Whoa. Are you sure you’re here as a photographer? Not a model?” He teases, eyes lingering unashamedly on my breasts and i resist the urge to snap my fingers just to pull his gaze back up. it’s nothing new. Over the years, i’ve learned that photography was still predominantly a male dominated area and men usually took it for granted that if you came into their area you were open to being ogled at. 

I’m not a prude or a particularly sanctimonious person. i don’t mind being looked at, as long as no lines are crossed. 

Besides, i had more to lose if i kicked out so I could put up with a little harmless flirting. 

“I think you could teach me more about being a photographer than a model...” i smiled vacantly, keeping my expression firmly neutral. it’s a face i’ve perfected over the years , because in my business you just can’t offend these bigshots. It’s more than likely I’ll be seeing this guy again in my career and men are freakishly sensitive when it comes to shit like this. i had no intention of encouraging him but I couldn’t openly reject him either. 

“that’s true. There’s a ton of stuff i could teach you..” He smiles pleasantly and we spend the next forty minutes discussing lightings. He tells me all about the theme of the photoshoot, the members who would best be suited for it. How they were going to be dressed and how the natural lighting would have to be used well, because it was a ‘ Fairy in the Woods’ kind of theme.

“We’ll try to set as few artificial lights as possible and only in juxtaposition to the costumes . The boys have really amazing complexion, all of them so I’d prefer to make the most of it using the natural lighting...” He says easily, showing me swathes of skin tones according to each of the members and the corresponding outfits. 

“Will they be using the same outfits, inside and outside? Some of the indoor shots will need artificial lighting.... And won’t the colors look too different?” i say curiously and he smiles proudly.

“I was wondering if you’d pick on that. And no, the indoor shhots will all take place there, close to the windows. we’ll try to use the light on the outfits. Let’s do a bit of experimentation there... You’re welcome to take snaps as many as you want. I’ll review them later. We can go over all the photos together and i’ll help you take more notes... Maybe obver dinner tonight?” He smiles brightly . innocently. Like his eyes don’t betray the sheer lust coming off him in waves. 

I blink a bit to rearrange my features.

“I have plans for dinner. I’m so sorry. “ I say apologetically. “ But we can get coffe right after the shoot gets over.” i smile quickly and he frowns a bit but looks vaguely convinced. Men and their constant need to get their metaphorical dick sucked is something i will never come to terms with. 

“okay. It would be kind of pointless of you assisting me as an intern if you don’t stay back to discuss the shoot with me.” He says firmly and there’s a subtle warning there.

 I’m in charge here, so you better bend to my will.

 I smile brightly in response and open my mouth to reassure him again when a flurry of activity near the door makes us look up.

i really hate myself for it but it’s Namjoon’s gaze that I lock into, almost immediately. He pretty much pins me to my place with that stare of his and then he’s tilting his head in a coy gesture, dimples blooming on his cheekbones as he scratches the back of his head and smirks,. 

It’s at once incredibly hot and unarmingly adorable. A double attack, because my heart jumps, throbbing up to my throat at the cuteness and my thighs snap together as well, heat pooling in my belly because of the sinful way he is staring at me. 

i look down at once and to my surprise, Jeon seok slings an arms around my shoulder, drawing me closer as he drags me to meet them. 

“Hey guys... this is Ae Rin... My assistant for the day.” He squeezes my shoulder and Yoongi grins subtly before ducking his head in a mock bow. All the members smile a bit and i notice at once that Jung Kook refuses to look anywhere near me. 

Cute. 

But it’s Namjoon who steps forward and his gaze is deadly serious as he holds his hand out.

“Hi, Ae Rin ssi..Please take good care of us today.” He winks subtly and I’m pretty fucking proud of myself for not falling face first at the sheer disrespect. 

What the actual fuck.

“ Nice to meet you guys.” I smile amicably at each of them and Yoongi winks too, except it’s nowhere as ... depraved as Namjoon. it’s casual, friendly almost and i’m reminded again of why I like, and prefer Min Yoongi to Kim Namjoon. 

He does not make me want to crawl out of my own skin. 

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

“Why are you here?” 

I jump a little, nearly tripping over a stray chord as i turn around to stare at him.

“Excuse me?”

“Weren’t you going to intern with the artist we met at the Cafe? “ Namjoon has one hand in his pocket, the other fumbling with the chain around his neck, drawing my attention to the deep V of his silk shirt and the tantalizing glimpse of smooth creamy skin. 

“yoongi got this for me...long before I even knew you...” I say snidedly and I know I’m being hostile but there’s just so much of Mr. tall, handsome male I can take per day. Working with Namjoon at such close quarters is somehow grating on my nerves. it doesn’t really help that the guy isn’t technically doing anything wrong that i can tell him off for. 

 I’m used to snobby idols but this guy is just so oddly down to earth and level headed that i’m drawn against my will. 

“You know me? That’s a bit of an exaggeration, don’t you think?” He winks and I roll my eyes. 

“Fine. I admit i don’t know you. It doesn’t matter either way. “ I say with a shrug, moving back to peer through the pictures. 

He settles down next to me on a rickety old stool and i flinch when some of the staff begin tossing us glances at once. Especially some of the girls who work with the lighting crew and the costumes. The judgemental stare is obvious, accusatory in the way it pierces into my skin and i bite my lower lip before rounding on him.

“You should leave before you get me fired.” I say under my breath. 

“You don’t work here.” He points out fairly enough but I’m more worried about the way one of the staff is actually pulling out her cellphone, not so subtly moving to hold it up in my direction and yeah.... there are somethings you can’t really afford to lose, no matter how good looking and suave the guy is. 

I jump to my feet and turn around ignoring his voice and quickly stalking to the gap behind the set, where Jeon Seok iss talking to another girl.

“Oh, Ae Rin ah... Come here... This is the next set of photos we’ll be working on...” He pulls out another file and begins explaining when one of the assistants brushes by me and for a second i almost think i imagine it, the gentle brush of her fabric against my skin as she leans closer than necessary. And then a low voice carries to me, as she whispers, 

 slutty whore. 

I frown in disbelief. She can’t possibly have said that, right? But a quick glance lets me know that she did , her eyes fairly blazing vindictively as she smirks at me and wow....really? 

I turn back to the man as he continues with his instructions and it’s oddly unsettling, the girl’s words and how out of context they are. Why on earth would she say that... i don’t even know her. 

But the moment I step outside , it’s obvious what’s wrong. 

“Hey... You’re the assistant right?” One of the other make up artists gives me a disdainful amile.

I raise an eyebrow.

“Yoongi oppa says he wants to meet you in his dressing room.Says there’s something he wants to tell you in private.” 

the last two words are drawled, her eyes roving over my form with the kind of judgemental disgust that plain girls seem to reserve for us prettier ones , almost like it’s somehow our fault for being treated differently because of our looks. 

i feel my entire body still because i can’t even fucking believe what i just heard.

Was Min Yoongi that big of a jerk... ? Did he really just indirectly tell some strange woman, a woman who obviously rattled to every other woman in the set, taht he was fucking me?

My fists clench in mortification and disbelief and suddenly i know why these girls are glaring. They think I’m only here because i fucked Yoongi. That the only talent I have is the ability to land a famous idol in my bed and while i don’t give a rat’s ass about what these bitches think, I do care about having my talent undermined. 

I’m also not into being summoned  

So cheap that he could just ask some stranger to come fetch me  like i was his bitch.

Did the fucker not have a bloody phone?!

“What... you’re going to deny that you aren’t-” the girl starts, apparently unaware how close i was to stabbing her. 

“Where the fuck is he?” I say softly and the girls blinks, taken aback at the simmering fury in my tone..

“What are you-”

“Where the fuck is your precious oppa?” I whisper, smiling sweetly and her eyes go wide. 

“in... in the dressing rooms over there. You ...You should watch your mouth-”

“And You should watch yours. unless you want me to break it for you. Get the fuck out of my way. ” i shove past her as I stalk over to where the dressing rooms are. 

it was easy enough finding the room. I push it open and Yoongi was on his feet.

“Ae Rin-ah....” 

“Who the fuck do you think you bloody are?” I whisper, and he just stare sat me, raising an eyebrow. 

“i take it you aren’t in the mood...” He drawls. 

“What was that for? i refuse to believe that you’re enough of an idiot to do somtehing as reckless as what you just did...”

“reckless? Why the fuck is that reckless?” He rolls his eyes and I just stare at him. 

“There are staff members out there who think the only reason i’m here is because I’m fucking you..” 

“And they got that wrong didn’t they? When in fact it’s the other way round. The only reason you even fucked me was because you wanted to be here...” He sneers. 

i gawk at him in disbelief. 

“What?! Why do you look so shocked. Think I’m fucking blind? the way you got that poor idiot of a photographer wrapped around your pinky finger? Been touching his arms, smiling,  flirting  with him all day.... Think i can’t bloody see you being a slut out there?” He snarls then and I pull back. 

“You’re out of your fucking mind...” 

“Am i? I didn’t do anything wrong.  I was horny, i sent for you. Isn’t that what we’re supposed to be? Fuck buddies? i don’t see that violating any non-existent contract we drew up when this thing started. “

“And the contract specified you being a fucking dick?” i snap angrily. Yoongi scoffs. 

“ Whatever. Besides, you owe me a blowjob at least for the favor i just did you. Hooked you up with one of the best in the fiels. Jeon seok hyung sure looks like he’s going to have you riding his dick in no time. A better prospect for your career... You’re a smart little girl, baby. i’ll give you that.  ” He leans back against the dresser, crossing his legs and looking surreal. Beautiful, cruel and just plain nauseating. 

“Wow. Wow... you know what. You can keep your bloody favors to yourself. And lose my number while you’re at it.!” I barely reasis the urge to just launch myself at him and claw his filthy perfect face. 

i didn’t even bother looking at anyone else. I stalk over to my locker, grab my backpack and the id before slipping on my hoodie and walking straight out of the door. 

I find myself walking past the bus stop and past the subway and suddenly, I’m standing in the middle of the pavement with no fucking clue where i actually am. 

But honestly, that’s the least of my worries. i pull my phone out and quickly delete all the messages, and block Min Yoongi’s number. And for a second i just stare at my wall paper. it’s the photo that yoongi took of me. I look so happy, i think miserably. And there’s nothing but genuine affection in my face.

Why the fuck would he call me a manipulative person? 

And it stuns me for a second, that someone as smart as Min fucking Yoongi would say something so blatantly insulting, so blatantly... misogynistic. it makes me want to punch a wall. Or better yet, his face. But swelling just beneath the anger is a huge wave of sheer fucking hurt. Because, god fucking damn it I had thought the guy was a friend. Yes, i let him into my bed but I’d never for a seocnd considered that he thought of me as nothing more than a cheap lay. 

Worse, a cheap lay who was out to take advantage of his fame and build her career. I fight tears because seiously, that’s such a fucking low blow. 

My phone buzzes and I stare at the screen.

 Kim Namjoon calling.  

i hang up, quickly blocking his number as well. 

Fuck idols. 

Seriously, fuck them. I didn’t want anything to do with either of those idiots. Lesson learned, Ae Rin ah. 

Ugh.