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buckys-wintersoldier · 2 months

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Another kind of heating | Bucky Barnes

Pairing -> Switch!Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Switch!Girlfriend!Reader

Summary -> You just want to warm your feet but this leads into a way hotter situation with your boyfriend.

Wordcount -> 2.6k

Warnings -> (E) 18+, Minors DNI, Smut, teasing, mention of mommy kink but just teasing, fingering (fem!receiving), squirting unprotected p in v, multiple orgasm, his hand around readers throat

A/N -> I want to thank @imtryingbuck. First of all thank you for writing the first part of the Oneshot, but as well thank you for listenting helping to come up with that idea. I love youuu. Divider made by @firefly-graphics.

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

The heavy raindrops beat surprisingly gently off the window as you and Bucky curled up together on the couch, watching as the scene on the screen unfolded in front of you.

Despite having the heating on, and that you were in between the ends of the couch and Bucky, and also having the fluffy beige blanket that Wanda had brought you for your birthday, you were still feeling cold. Especially your feet.

Bucky mumbled softly, telling you to stop moving, but you just couldn’t find a comfortable position to sit and find the warmth you were so desperately trying to get. After moving too much, Bucky pulled your legs over his lap, his left hand going to your thigh, his metal thumb moving up and down slowly, and his right hand doing the same against your left calf.

It helped. A little.

Your feet were still so cold, and you were pretty sure that you couldn’t feel them anymore. And that’s when a brilliant idea popped into your head. Shifting once again, you sighed happily.

"Ahh, baby, your feet!” Bucky’s screech would have made you laugh if it weren’t from the fact that your feet were already warming up.

“What do you mean?” Asking in the most innocent voice you could muster.

“They’re freezing!”

“I know”

“And you’ve put them on my dick.”

“And they’re getting warmer now.”

In turn, your boyfriend of three years sent you a glare that to others would have them backing off, but you knew that he could never do you any harm or ever be mad at you, just like the time you were bored and started putting magnets on his left arm just to see if they would stick to the prosthetic limb - they do, by the way. He sent you the same glare that day too, before letting you carry on entertaining yourself. “Fine, now carry on watching the film.”

“Love you, Buck.”

“Love you too, baby.”

Finally warm and cozy watching the movie play, you found yourself getting turned on by the slow movements of Bucky’s fingers creating invisible drawings on your leg.

"Baby,” his tone was warning you not to carry on with the movements that you were doing, but did you? No.

“What? Buck I’m not doing anything.”

“Your-ah, baby”

“What Bucky?”

“Princess-“ the nickname, ignited the urge to carry on your actions happening under the blanket. “stop.”

“Stop what, Bucky?”

“Y-you're making me hard.”

“With my toes? I’m just wiggling my toes, Buck.”

"Yeah, on my cock.”

“You’re silly; let’s keep watching the fi-“

"Baby, my cock's hard now.”

“Sounds like a you problem, not a me problem.”

“Baby… please”

You smirked when you saw the way he shifted, his fingers digging into the soft skin of your leg.

“You sound like a little puppy, baby,” you teased.

He groaned, unsure if it turned him on or if he just wanted to show you that he wasn’t the puppy you thought he was. Bucky guided one of his hands until he reached your ankles and gripped them, pushing them apart so he could sit between them. And he did; he moved so his knees holding your legs spread apart and towered over you; his hands were on both sides of your body.

“You’re such a tease, doll,” he groaned, his lips crashing on yours, and the little puppy with his soft blue eyes turned immediately into a hungry predator, which had pounced itself on its prey.

He lowered his kisses down your jawline until he reached your neck and bit into your skin. Bucky smiled when soft moans left your lips because of the slight pain and the pleasure he caused with his bites. His hand slid down, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your sweatpants, and he pulled them together with your panties down.

“Someone’s really needy, huh?” you grinned and ran your fingers through his soft brown hair.

Bucky chuckled before his hand moved up your inner thigh until he reached your already throbbing pussy. His lips formed into a smile when his fingertips touched your wetness, slowly making their way through your folds until he reached your entrance. His fingers leaked with your arousal when he lifted them slightly to look at them.

“Who is the needy one, doll?”

“I’m not the one with a hard member because his girlfriend warmed her feet on her boyfriend's crotch.”

“But I didn’t do anything yet, which caused MY pussy to be wet like that,” he said, empathizing the: ‘my pussy’ to make it clear it’s his and only his.

“Yours? Prove it, baby boy. Show me what’s yours.”

And he did as you told him. Bucky pushed two fingers inside of you, not giving you time to adjust to them; he pushed them deep inside of your tight, clenching walls. You moaned and gripped his hair; you tried to ground yourself while he thrusted them, enchanted by the scene in front of him in and out of you. He loved the sound that is constantly leaving your lips when he hits your sweet spot. He could look at you the whole day, as long as you made those delicious sounds. Then he lowered his head, kissing your thighs before he made his way to your cunt. His tongue licked through your wet folds. You clenched around his fingers, and Bucky groaned in response, imagining how much you would tighten around his dick; you would squeeze him until he came, and you would have to take everything he would give you.

“Bucky, please. It feels so good.”

“Don’t dare to cum before I allow you to cum. I want to hear that you're mine and that this pussy belongs to me. Say it. Scream it and then cum,” he said, turned on by the surprised expression on your face.

Bucky was always possessive around you, especially during sex, but he never wanted you to scream those words. He loved when you told him you’re his, but this turned you on beyond belief. He moved his fingers at a brutal pace inside of you, curled his fingers, and hit your sweet spot a few more times while his tongue joined his fingers inside of you.

“Fuck-“ you mumbled, throwing your head back.

Bucky groaned. He felt your walls tightening around his fingers and your wetness growing, while his rock-hard cock pressed against the fabric of his pants. He chuckled softly when you pushed yourself more against him. His tongue and his fingers felt so good that you felt like you couldn’t hold your orgasm back. The knot in your stomach grew, and Bucky knew; he slowed his fingers down and let go of you.

“Bucky- please.”

“Cum, all over my fingers,” he told you.

He curled his fingers, hitting your sweet spot again, and made you cum all over his fingers. You moaned and arched your back while he moved his fingers, still in and out of you.

“Bucky- so-so sensitive,” you whimpered.

“I know, but give me one more, and then I will give you what you really want, oke?”

With a nod, you threw your head back into the pillow, arched your back even more, and met his fingers. They were so deep inside of you, hitting all the right places, and you felt the growing pleasure in your stomach again. His thick fingers moved slowly, but you felt every tiny bit of them. Your walls squeezed them perfectly, and Bucky couldn't wait to shove his dick inside of your tight, warm, and clenching hole.

“Mhm, so close again. Huh, doll?” Bucky teased you; his thumb rubbed small circles over your clit.

Your own loud moan interrupted yourself before you told him that you’re so close. So close that it just needed a few more strokes of his fingers against your walls, and you would cum a second time over his fingers.

Your fingers dig into the fabric of the couch, grounding yourself. Bucky smiled mischievously while he looked at you, then back down on his fingers. He loved the view of his fingers disappearing inside of you. The sounds they made whenever he pushed them back into your wetness. His fingers were covered in your arousal. Bucky lowered his head and kissed your clit before he dipped his tongue back inside of you with his fingers.

The combination of his tongue and fingers and your already growing feeling in your lower stomach were enough to made you come again. You screamed his name, almost shattering walls, when he curled his fingers and made you squirt while he hit your sweet spot over and over again. Bucky smirked, knowing that the neighbors could hear you screaming out his name while the waves of pleasure were rushing through your body.

“I need you inside of me, Bucky,” you whimpered.

“I’m inside of you. Don’t you feel my fingers inside of you?”

You groaned frustratedly. Bucky knew that you wanted his dick buried in your tight pussy, but the way you looked at him with your big eyes, trying to ask him for his dick but being too shy to ask him for it.

“Bucky-“

“Come one, doll. Tell me what you want.”

He pulled back and smirked at you and your flushed face, slowly taking off his belt to undo his jeans. He teased you by pulling his jeans and boxers down, revealing his hard shaft. You decided to tease him too by taking off your shirt and bra slower than he would have liked.

“Do you need my help, baby?”

“Be a good one and take your hands away; take off your clothes completely,” you demanded with a raised eyebrow.

Bucky rolled his eyes playfully but did what he was told. He removed the clothes from his body before he was kneeling between your legs again. Your shirt and bra are placed on Bucky’s clothes. He licked his lips and grabbed his cock, sliding the tip of it through your wet folds.

“What do you want me to do, doll?”

“Your dick, inside of me.”

He grinned, gripped your waist, and turned you in one movement around so you’re on your hands and knees in front of him. He then lined himself up, groaning softly when his sensitive tip brushed along your folds. His dick, now covered in your arousal, slowly entered you and was greeted by a welcoming squeeze of your walls, pulling him deeper inside of you. You both groaned, his fingers digging into the soft skin of your hips.

"Fuck, you always feel so perfect, so fucking tight for me,” he mumbled, letting you adjust to his huge size.

Bucky slowly started to thrust inside of you. He pulled his dick almost completely out of you before he pushed himself back inside. His lower stomach pressed against your ass when his dick was buried deep inside of you. You moaned, walls clenching around his dick, but you wanted more. You wanted him to be rough, not soft and careful; you wanted Bucky to fuck you, not to make love to you.

“You’re doing so well for me, baby boy. Such a sweet and shy little one for me, huh?” you teased him with a smirk.

“Don’t push the limits, doll.”

“Buck, you can be honest that you’re such a little subby baby for me. You thrust so softly and shyly inside of me; it’s ok; mommy takes care of you when your dick is sensitive.”

“I’m only soft because I love you. But you know I can be rough,” he said, pushing his dick harsher inside of you.

“Prove it, baby boy. Show mommy that you can fuck her and not just make love to her.”

Bucky groaned, a smirk formed on his lips, and his grip tightened. He then pulled out of you, slamming his dick back inside of you and making you moan loudly. You arched your back and pressed yourself more against him, while his balls always met your pussy. Bucky speeds up a bit more, fucking you senseless while your walls squeeze him, and he tries not to cum immediately.

“B-Bu-. F-uck,” you whimpered.

“Can’t even use your words anymore? Already fucked dumb, doll? Did I fuck you so well that everything in your mind is my dick inside your tight hole?”

He loved teasing you, the way you gripped the fabric of the couch or the way you pressed yourself more against him, quietly asking him for more. Bucky slid his metal hand along your back until he reached your neck. He then wrapped it around your throat, making you gasp. The cold of his metal hand lets you shiver, but at the same time, it’s cooling the heat of your skin softly. He pulled you with his hand around your throat, your back pressed against his muscular chest. He didn’t squeeze his hand; he was just holding it there because he knew how much you loved it. The new angle made it possible for him to thrust deeper inside of you; you both moaned loudly whenever he hit your sweet spot and made you clench your walls around his huge dick. Your pussy was still so sensitive because of the orgasm before that you felt every little bit, every vein of his cock stroked along your walls.

“Bucky- I’m s-so close.”

“Hold it. You’re so perfectly warm and tight.”

“Bu-“

You squeezed around him again, more than before, making him gasp.

“Fuck- Baby. Continue this, and I need to cum too,” he says, pushing your back more against him.

His hot breath met your neck; he kissed your shoulder and jawline before he pulled out of you.

“I- urgh,” you gasp, then try to complain that you were so close and he just pulled out of you. You got interrupted when he turned you around.

“Shhh, I wanna look at your beautiful face when you scream my name, doll,” he said with a chuckle, kissing your lips softly.

When he gripped your hips again, he pushed himself inside of you, groaning when he immediately hit your sweet spot. Bucky fucks you like an animal in need, exactly what you wanted and you’re just a few more thrusts away from your orgasm.

“Don’t dare to stay quiet when you cum, I want to hear you.”

You nodded. Bucky's metal fingers found their way along your lower stomach and through your folds until he reached your clit. You yelped when the cold met your warm skin. He rubbed circles over your clit, you arched your back, throwing your head back, and your hand wrapped around his arm to ground yourself. Your nails dug into the metal, while the pleasure inside of you grew until you came. You screamed his name; walls were clenching and squeezing his dick.

“Mhm- can I cum? Please. Can I?” Bucky asked, chasing his own orgasm.

You placed your hand on his cheek, and your thumb stroked over his lips when you nodded.

“Cum, baby boy. You did so well,” you teased, but Bucky was too deep in his own release and pleasure that he didn’t say anything about you telling him he was a submissive little one.

When you nodded, his thrusts became sloppier, and Bucky came just a few thrusts after you. His seed painted your walls, and the two of you moaned softly about the feeling while he slowed his thrusts.

“I love when you scream my name like that, doll,” he admitted, kissing your lips softly.

“I love when you get turned on just because I warm my feet on your dick.”

“No- you moved your toes. You kinda messaged my dick, and you were needy because of me stroking your leg.”

You groaned, frustrated, but nodded. He was right; he turned you on beyond belief just because he stroked your thigh. But who blamed you when you had such a good-looking and lovely boyfriend? Every girl would be needy when he just touched them.

Taglist: @nicoline1998enilocin @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @sergeantbarnessdoll @kandis-mom @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @bucky-barnes-lover @felicitylemon @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry

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sluttywoozi · 26 days

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Babydoll | csc x f!chubby!reader

Seungcheol takes you lingerie shopping, forgetting that he'll love every single thing just because it's on you.

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~5.0k | Pairing: csc x f!chubby!reader | Genre: smut

Warnings: lingerie fetish (mainly when it’s on you), semipublic sex, petnames, rich!cheol, sugar daddy vibes but they’re in love, cheol knows his lingerie, possessive cheol, praise, descriptions of reader’s body, thigh riding, biting, mirror sex, piv sex, creampie, panty stuffing

Reader Notes: chubby, shy but not insecure, has breasts and a vagina

“Right here, baby,” Seungcheol nods his head to the right, opening the door to the boutique and waiting for you to walk in ahead of him, ignoring the cursive ‘closed’ sign hanging on the inside.

The interior is modern, understated, with mannequins of different sizes modeling various pieces of lingerie, a few sticking out to Seungcheol as immediate try-ons. The director appears from a door near the back, smiling kindly when she takes notice of you and Seungcheol and gracefully making her way to the front of the store.

“Mr. Choi, I hope everything is to your liking. Please feel free to give me a call if you require assistance with anything,” she says, nodding and smiling at both him and you before slipping out of the front door.

Seungcheol follows after a beat, turning the lock and drawing the curtains hung on both sides of the gallery window.

“Cheol, what’s going on?” You ask him, standing where he left you, now cloaked in soft ambient lighting.

“We, my love, are going lingerie shopping,” he grins suggestively, returning to your side and taking your hand in both of his. “I know you get shy, so I made some arrangements. Nobody else will be coming in, not while we’re here.”

You seem stunned for a moment, but this isn’t the first time Seungcheol has emptied a building for you and it won’t be the last, so eventually, you just smile back and draw him in by the lapel for a kiss.

He presses his lips to yours, releasing your hand so he can grip your fleshy hips and pull you in closer. He loves how you feel in his grasp, loves the thickness of you, the sturdiness, though no matter how sturdy you may be, he still touches you with nothing but the most tender of hands. He feels lucky, blessed, to get to know you in this way, and treating you like the ethereal being you are is all he wants to do.

Well, that and clothe you in fabrics that are just as soft as you.

Silk, lace, chiffon, he wants to see you in them all, and as he pulls away, he lets his eyes traverse the boutique, imagining you in every single piece.

“Let’s start with this one,” he murmurs, reaching out to rub the cream satin on the mannequin between his fingers, already imagining the warmth of your body under it.

Together, you make your way around the store, Seungcheol holding every negligee and babydoll and romper you pick together over his arm. It feels like he’s got most of the inventory by the time you decide to try things on, and he can only follow when you lead him to the changing rooms.

He chose this boutique for a very specific reason - the pedestal and floor-to-ceiling trifold mirror that occupy each dressing room. There’s an armchair and a dressing screen placed in the largest, per his request, and after hanging up every piece in the corner where you can reach them, he takes his seat.

The screen is translucent, with gold floral piping and shiny gossamer fabric stretched over each panel, your body just barely visible behind it as you get undressed. His heart skips a beat when you carefully drape your clothes over the top of the screen, and it starts to race as you change into your first set.

Seungcheol fucking loves you in lingerie. He loves the way it outlines his favorite parts of you, the way it lovingly caresses your body just like his hands do, the way you automatically feel sexy and a little playful in it. You in lingerie is the most beautiful form of torment for him, and it’s a torment he’ll be lucky to endure for the rest of his life.

“Ready?” You call out from behind the screen, and he clears his throat before responding, “‘m always ready for you, baby.”

Then you appear from behind the screen and step up onto the pedestal, and instantly, he knows he was lying.

You’ve chosen a lilac romper first, with unlined lace on the top that clings to your luscious breasts and waist and tiny shorts on the bottom that graze the tops of your thick thighs. You smooth your hands along your body, lifting the hem of the shorts and letting them flutter down, your lips quirking in a small smile.

It’s adorable that your first instinct was to show him rather than look in the mirror, but he wants to see the back as much as he wants you to see the front.

“Turn around for me, sweetheart,” he instructs gently, leaning back in the chair and letting his legs spread.

You carefully rotate on the pedestal, and Seungcheol wishes he could see your face as you take in your own beauty but he’s just as happy to let his eyes rove over your body from this new angle.

The delicate lace dips with the rolls on your back and follows the gentle curve of your spine, and the chiffon of the shorts isn’t long enough to cover all of you, the crease where your ass meets your thighs visible just below the hem. He wants to bite you there, wants to leave imprints of himself all over you, wants to sink his teeth into your precious flesh and never let go.

He'll be content with the diamond ring he put on your finger six months ago instead.

“Do you like it?” You ask softly, still facing away from him with a slight undercurrent of nervousness in your voice.

He furrows his brows, wondering how you could still be nervous after three years of him looking at you like you’re an angel. But he’ll never not reassure you, so all he says is, “I love it, baby, you look fucking gorgeous.”

You spin and hop down from the pedestal, taking a few steps toward him and bracing yourself on his knees before leaning down for a kiss. He grins fondly and pouts for you, fighting to keep his hands to himself as the position pushes your perfect tits together. If he breaks now, there’s no way you’ll get through the rest of the lingerie, and he wants to make sure everything fits you perfectly before he calls the director back to package them all up.

“Next,” you whisper into his mouth before pulling away and darting behind the dressing screen.

He takes in a deep breath and rubs his hands up and down his thighs, trying to dispel the urge to follow you and take more than a peek. Maybe he was a bit overconfident in thinking he’d make it through all of the lingerie…

A few different pieces should be enough for you to know your size, right?

Right, he nods to himself, barely sure that he can withstand this self-inflicted siege for two more outfits.

He becomes even less sure when he hears you huffing and puffing behind the screen, presumably wriggling into something tight and form-fitting and fuck, does he love your form, especially when it’s outlined by mesh and lace and-

“Cheollie, can you help me with this one?”

His eyes squeeze closed, just for a few seconds, before he gathers all of his remaining strength, stands, and ambles over to the corner. He does his best not to look at your body as he steps around the screen, knowing that if he sees you in an undone state, it’ll be enough to undo him.

“I just can’t get the middle,” you turn your head slightly to speak to him, and he thumbs your cheek with an understanding noise, unable to manage words when he finally sees what you’ve got partially on.

He can’t see the front, but because of the clasps, he can tell it’s a bustier. The white mesh molds to every curve and the blue piping highlights your waist and hips, drawing his eye toward the matching underwear, which, truly, are little more than ribbons joined together in a T-shape.

He doesn’t let his gaze linger on the plump curve of your ass, brings it back up to the task at hand and manages to fasten the middle hook-and-eye closures even with his fingers trembling in desire and restraint.

Usually when he’s finished doing something up for you, whether it’s the clasp of a necklace or the zipper of a dress, he squeezes your waist to let you know. Now, that’s not a smart move because once he starts touching you, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to stop.

So he murmurs a low, “Done, baby,” and returns to his seat. You don’t come out immediately and he’s not sure why, but he doesn’t mind having this extra time to collect himself.

Then you prance out in fucking thigh high stockings snapped into the garters attached to the bustier and he feels his mind go entirely blank. There’s no inner monologue, no loud swearing, no gushing compliments, just the image of you in a blue floral embroidered set with matching hosiery and the most minuscule panties he’s ever fucking seen.

Your skin shines against the colors of the lingerie and the shape of the set embraces every hill and valley of your body, the dip of your waist and the beloved pudge of your belly and the fullness of your thighs and your breasts…

Your breasts in the balconette style bra have him salivating, have him aching to bury his head in the softness and just breathe you in, feel you pressed up against his cheeks, keeping him warm, keeping him safe.

“Speechless?” You tease lightly, spinning on the stockinged pads of your feet to face the mirror.

He can’t even respond to your little gibe, his thoughts riotous, wild with need. Your lush ass is all but bare, your flesh pushing against the tautness of the garters, his fingers itching to pull them just to watch the fat of your ass and thighs ripple as they snap back onto your skin. He feels like he could vibrate out of this chair, his self-control wavering in the wake of your divinity.

He watches your smile slowly fade in the mirror, the heat in his blood spreading into yours, making you squirm on the pedestal until he gathers enough of his brain cells to say, “C’mere, darling.”

It’s not smart, making you come closer, but he couldn’t stop the words from coming out any more than he can stop his hands from rising to grip your hips as soon as you get to him. You’re warm between his palms, cushy even with the mesh containing you, and it’s almost like he operates on autopilot as he drags the sides of your panties out from under the bustier and hikes them up.

He pulls until you gasp, and he wants to look at your face but he can’t take his eyes off of the way your plush pussy is parted by the scrap of lacy fabric, the lips of your cunt popping out of the sides just like he wanted. Now, all the pressure is on your clit, and it’s easy to set his hands on your hips and pull you down, down, down until you sit on one of his thighs.

Finally, he looks at you, his gaze lovingly traveling up your body, lingering on the swift rise and fall of your tits before at long last reaching your face. Your lips are parted, still shiny with your favorite gloss, and your brows are furrowed over hazy eyes, your lashes fluttering when he drags you forward and pushes you back.

“Want you to cum like this,” he mutters, knowing you’re close enough to hear him and waiting for the protest he’s sure will follow.

“Seungcheol! This is- we can’t- not here!” You sputter, pressing your hands to his chest as if you could hold him at bay.

“And why is that?” He asks gently, grinding you back and forth again, watching as you start to lose your resolve.

“Because this is someone’s store, it’s not… it’s not right,” your voice is breathy, quiet, your objection feeble.

“You’re not wrong, honey, this is someone’s store. It’s our store, I bought it last week,” he says in between kisses to the tops of your breasts, smiling when he feels your chest heat up under his mouth.

“You- you…”

“Yeah, baby, I knew I’d want to fuck you here, and I knew you wouldn’t let me if it belonged to someone else, so I bought it and put your name on the lease.”

You’re silent for a few ticks, and then he feels you grind into his thigh of your own volition.

“Carry on,” you sigh, draping your arms around his neck in obvious assent.

He grins and leans back, sliding further down in the chair so you have more room to move and gripping your hips tighter to guide you into going just a bit quicker. He flexes the muscle of his thigh, smirking when you tilt your head back and let out a tiny whimper. His smirk falls when you brace one hand at the top of his leg, dangerously close to his thickening cock, and lean forward into your thrusts to put more pressure on your clit.

He loves to watch you take your pleasure like this, loves to feel your arousal dampen the material of his dress pants, loves to hear your little sounds as they escape your parted lips. He loves you, more than he ever thought possible, and he loves to make you cum almost as much.

That’s why he shifts his grip to your ass, digs his fingers in deep, and pulls at your flesh to move you harder, faster against his leg. He knows time is passing but it doesn’t feel like it when he has you on top of him like this, all of his focus on you and the way you look and sound and feel.

He can tell you’re getting close when your eyelids fall shut and your noises start to blend together, so he does what he knows will help send you over the edge - he talks to you.

“My baby is so fucking pretty, huh? All dressed up just for me, just for your fiance. I can’t wait to marry you, make you my pretty fuckin’ wife. You’re already mine, I know that, but I want everyone else to know it too, know that I’m the only one who gets to touch you, love you, make you cum. And you are gonna cum for me, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

“Y-yeah, Cheollie, ‘m gonna cum for you,” you breathe out, your thighs clenching around his as you start to bounce. He helps lift you so you don’t strain your knees too much, loving the weight of you in his hands, in his lap.

“And then you’re gonna put on one last thing, that pink babydoll dress, and I’m gonna fuck you in it, so don’t bother with the panties,” he says roughly, his voice low and greedy.

You can only whine in response, your hips stuttering and your body tensing as you tumble over the edge. He doesn’t know where to look, his eyes darting between your juddering thighs and your heaving breasts and your sweet, sweet face, every perfect part of you reflecting the pleasure rushing through your system.

When your orgasm has run its course, you wilt into him, dropping forward to rest your forehead on his shoulder as you try to catch your breath. He gives your ass one last loving squeeze before his hands migrate up to your back, rubbing soft circles and luxuriating in the feeling of your mesh encased curves.

“You’re gonna have to help me peel all this off,” you mumble into his suit jacket, making him chuckle and bring one hand up to pet your hair. “With pleasure, honey.”

You sit up after a few more minutes of snuggling, a grimace overtaking your face when you look down and see the wet patch you left on his thigh. These pants are dry-clean only but he doesn’t give a fuck, will proudly hand them over knowing that the stain is from you, his beautiful, responsive fiancee.

“Got one more in you?” He asks gently, cupping your cheek and drawing you into a kiss before you have a chance to answer, hoping that he can sway you toward a yes. Humming, you drag your nails through the hair at the nape of his neck, making him shiver before you pull away to giggle lethargically and clarify, “Orgasms or wardrobe changes?”

“Both,” he laughs easily. “Orgasms, if I can only pick one.”

“I think I can muster enough energy for both in this instance,” you offer pragmatically, standing on shaky legs and shuffling off his thigh.

He misses the warmth and weight of you immediately, but knows you getting up is a requirement if he wants to make good on his earlier promise. You turn and he unlatches the clasps along your spine, dragging his hands down your body and unsnapping the backs of your garters so you don’t have to twist around to reach them. He steals one more indulgent squeeze of your hips before rotating you back to face him and taking care of the front garters too.

His fingers hook in the sides of your ruined panties and start to pull them down, his knuckles dragging along your soft skin until they fall on their own. Used to this by now, you step out of the panties and watch as he picks them up, carefully folds them, and places them in his breast pocket, leaving the fabric peeking out as if they’re a pocket square.

With a kiss to his cheek, you disappear behind the screen again. He takes the opportunity to undo his pants and pull them down just far enough to release his cock, sighing at the relief of being unconstrained. He can hear you rifling through hangers to find the outfit he requested, and has to press a palm to his throbbing dick as he imagines you in it.

Still, he’s unprepared for the impact you have on him when you shyly step out and up onto the pedestal clothed in pink lace so delicate and sheer, he can see every part of you. Your heavy breasts fill the soft, unlined cups, your nipples taut and peaked beneath the lace, making his fingers tingle with the desire to pinch, twist, pull.

He forces his eyes to keep moving, to take in the rest of you. His gaze latches onto your stomach next, the way the dress grazes over the robust curve of it enough to make him wish his hands could do the same.

He wants to leave your pussy for last but finds his gaze drawn between your legs, to the cushion of your pubic mound and the creases where it meets your thighs, those creases being some of his absolute favorite places to kiss. You’re just always so warm, and you smell so good, and feel even better.

He’s cum there before, watched it pool and drip down the inside of your thigh, gathered it up with his fingers and fed it to you with rapturous eyes, and fuck if he doesn’t want to do it again.

But he thinks he wants to cum inside you more, wants to fill you up and know you’ve got part of him within you, even if it’s only until he gets you home and into the bath. And then perhaps into more lingerie.

First, he gets to fuck you, and he’s already got his plan for that in mind.

“Come sit, honey,” Seungcheol pats his thighs in invitation, his eyes locked on the way your thighs rub together when you step down and walk to him. You take hold of his shoulders, lifting a leg to climb on top of him, and he stops you with his hands on your hips, his fingers clenching enough to ruffle the lace.

“Not like that. Turn around, I want you to see,” he murmurs, waiting for you to rotate between his palms to pull you closer, your hands bracing on the armrests of the chair for balance as you start to bend. “Need me to stretch you out first, sweetheart?”

“No,” you gasp out and shake your head, continuing, “I’m wet enough, I just wanna feel you.”

So he grasps the base of his cock, holds it up for you, and starts tugging you down with the hand still on your hip, watching as your pussy slowly envelopes the head. His eyelids start to droop at the perfect pressure of you but he fights to keep them open, even as your walls cling to the thickness of him. He can feel you consciously relaxing your muscles, opening yourself up to accept him, and he thanks you with a kiss to your shoulder and a squeeze on the hip.

Once he’s halfway inside, you take in a deep breath and sink the rest of the way down, until his pelvis is flush to your ass and he’s fully seated inside of you. Your pussy flutters around him, still trying to adjust to the width of his cock, every ripple of your muscles around him stealing just a bit more of his self-control.

He knows you’re ready when you wriggle a bit in his lap to get more comfortable, and that’s when he grips your thigh and pulls it to rest on the other side of his knee, doing the same with your other leg until you’re spread out for him. He looks over your shoulder into the mirror, his eyes traveling along your tits, your stomach, your thighs, before landing on your pussy. The lacy pink fabric of your dress covers you but he can just barely see your cunt peeking through, and he murmurs, mainly to himself, “Nothing better than my baby in a babydoll.”

Then he wraps his arms around you, one hand clutching your breast and the other bunching up the dress so he can see you clearly, and holds you in place as he draws his hips back as much as he can and fucks up into you. He doesn’t have a lot of room to really thrust but you like it deep and dirty, like when he grinds into you and makes you feel it, and more than that, you like being on display for him as he does it.

You definitely are now, like this, with your legs held apart by his and his hand holding your lingerie up so you can both see the strain of your entrance around his thick cock, a sheen gathering on his balls when he pushes your wetness out with a deep grind of his hips. He’s obsessed with the picture you make, like something out of an obscene Renaissance painting, one he’d pay millions for if it meant you could see yourself through his eyes.

You’re his own personal Venus, a goddess of the highest order, and he’ll worship you in this life, the next, and in any that follow.

His brand of worshiping just happens to include dressing you up like a doll and fucking you like you’re his only vice, which isn’t far from the truth. Seungcheol has everything a man could wish for - money, property, respect, authority - and he’d give it all up if he was forced to choose between maintaining that lifestyle and keeping you.

Because what’s the point of any of it if he doesn’t have love? Someone with whom to share the wealth? He’s played the lonely millionaire before and that’s not a role he wants to reprise, not when he knows the incandescent happiness of coming home to you.

And of cumming inside of you, that avaricious voice in his head whispers, chasing away his sentimental thoughts and replacing them with raw desire. Every nerve ending feels like a live wire, amplifying the impossible bliss of your wet pussy around his cock and your flawless body in his arms.

He’s still grinding into you but he can tell you need more, so he hikes you up higher against his chest and plants his feet, giving him enough room to start pounding into you. He’s lost his view but that just lets him cut to the feeling, focus on your sounds and scent and searing hot cunt. He sucks open-mouthed kisses along the soft skin of your shoulder, digging his teeth into the nape of your neck, unable to stifle the urge to consume you, to devour you whole.

You raise your hand and reach behind you, sinking your fingers into his hair to pull him closer, your nails scratching along his scalp and sending zips of electric pleasure down his spine. With every thrust, he can feel that knot starting to tie itself, feel it cinching tighter and tighter as your walls ripple around him, but he’ll be damned if he lets himself cum before you.

“Baby, hold this up for me,” he says roughly into your back, waiting for your free hand to grip the dress and take over so he can shift his fingers down between your legs. “Keep watching.”

You cry out as soon as his fingertips graze your clit, your pussy swallowing around him, drawing him in even deeper when he starts to swirl circles around the bundle of nerves. You’re slick and swollen beneath his fingers, and if he wasn’t so desperate to feel you cum on his cock, he’d make you cum on his tongue instead.

He can save that for after the bath, he tells himself, devoting all of his attention to working you up to that edge and pushing you over. It won’t be long now, not with the way you’re squirming in his hold, your legs twitching on either side of his and your pussy leaking enough that he can feel your arousal dripping down his balls.

He’ll never get enough of the way you respond to him, of how sensitive you are to his every move, of how you cradle him with both your body and your heart, and he’ll definitely never get enough of how it feels to have you break around him.

He can feel it happening now, sense the wave as it overtakes you, pulling you under and spinning you out as he bullies his way through your trembling walls to fuck you through it, to elongate your euphoria as much as he can. When you melt against his chest, he knows it’s over, and that’s when he finally gives himself permission to lower you fully onto his cock, root deep inside of you, and let it all go.

He can’t hold in the grunts and groans of pleasure, your name scattered through swears as he falls to pieces, his only anchor to this earth being your luxurious weight in his lap. His cum flows out in bursts, filling you to the brim, and he forces his eyes open just in time to watch in the mirror as a ring of white forms where he’s plugging you up.

His cock starts to soften as he catches his breath and untenses his muscles, loosening his hold on you and petting at your flesh where he may have been gripping too tight. You sigh contentedly as he hugs you to him and murmurs, “So fuckin’ perfect, baby. Love you so goddamn much.”

“Love you too, Cheollie. I’m glad you bought this place, the walk of shame would be beyond embarrassing if it wasn’t ours,” you mumble, exhaustion clear in your voice.

He chuckles into your neck, presses a kiss to the curve where it meets your shoulder, and asks, “Ready for me to pull out?”

You nod and he matches your pout in the mirror as he lifts your legs one at a time to rest in between his, massaging your inner thighs and hoping you won’t be too sore from having them spread so far apart for so long. You stand and bend on shaky knees so he can withdraw from you, and he’s quick to pull the panties from his breast pocket and start to push them inside, blocking his cum from flowing out.

You’re used to this too so you just hum and arch your back, waiting patiently as he works the fabric in and takes a few seconds to indulge in the living art that is your plump pussy stuffed with panties. He pulls out a handkerchief from one of the pockets lining the inside of his suit and cleans you up gently, giving you a loving tap on the ass when he’s finished.

You let him choose what you’ll wear out of the store, his eyes naturally gravitating to a white lace set that makes him think of your upcoming wedding. You can do it yourself but he latches the hook and eye closures on the bra for you anyway, kneeling in front of you to pull up the panties and leaning forward to bite the side and snap it back against your skin, just because he can.

You giggle and pet his head in response, and he can’t help but look up at you with constellations in his eyes, his gaze full of stars that spell out his adoration for you, his devotion.

He lets you finish getting dressed as he bags up some of the pieces, leaving the rest at the counter to be delivered to the house and waiting at the door for you. When you appear, you look perfectly put together, almost like he didn’t have his way with you at all.

Then he grasps the back of your neck to pull you into a kiss and feels the indentations of his teeth, and nothing could stop the satisfied smile from stretching his lips.

Seungcheol loves lingerie shopping with you.

AN: inspired by this ask and @bbychocolat immediately saying lingerie shopping when i said i was going to write chubby!reader x cheol

Outfit 1 | Outfit 2 | Outfit 3

thank you for reading! pls reblog and lmk your thoughts 💖

My Masterlist

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dilf-lover99 · 2 years

Text

6:52 | B.L. / S.M.

Pairings: Billy Loomis x Female Reader, Stu Macher x Female Reader

Summary: Reader is the daughter of an FBI profiler and childhood best friends with Billy and Stu. When a killer starts terrorizing her friends she has to choose between following her head or her heart.

Warnings: death, blood, stabbing, violence, swearing, manipulation, kissing, major character death (deviation from cannon), mommy issues, reader is smart but a little naive, ending is open to interpretation

Word Count: 7.9k

a/n: happy halloween !! i know it's been a while but hopefully this long ass story makes up for it. please don't cancel me for this, i'm not immune to the charm of a 25 year old slasher film. let me know what you think !

Six minutes and fifty-two seconds.

According to some remarkably arbitrary article you skimmed through in a mediocre issue of Teen Beat, it takes the average person six minutes and fifty-two seconds to determine which movie they’re going to watch.

In six minutes and fifty-two seconds you can brew half a pot of particularly unpalatable coffee in your kitchen. You can listen to your favourite Jeff Buckley song with eight seconds to spare, or drain a teeming glass of water.

Six minutes and fifty-two seconds is also the precise duration of time in which you’ve managed to evade the knife-wielding psychopath who’s killing your friends for sport.

Six minutes and fifty-two seconds.

Now here you stand in Stu Macher’s kitchen, explicitly parallel to the masked executioner, dread trickling deliberately throughout your body, dancing delicately up the incurvation of your spine.

Panic and confusion mingle together earnestly inside as you notice the killer stop before you, scarcely within arm’s reach. He tilts his disguised head at you slowly, almost as though he’s confounded that an armed maniac has been chasing you around the Macher house for the last few minutes.

“Hey...” He murmurs with a strangely familiar resonance, “I’m not gonna hurt ‘ya, Doll.”

Your expeditious breathing slows to a halt. Your face, previously adorned in confusion, is now painted with discouragement as you place who the voice belongs to.

No, you didn’t want to be right. Not this time.

A second unmasked figure appears behind him, holding a horrified and misty-eyed Sydney Prescott in his gangly arms.

“Well,” he draws out with a blinding smile, voice dripping with lunacy, “How do ya like our big reveal, Sunshine?”

Six minutes and fifty-two seconds, you think to yourself indignantly, what a fucking joke.

You were decidedly not a morning person.

This is your first thought, a routinely reoccurring thought at that, as you move to swiftly silence the shrill reverberations of your alarm clock. There’s a distinct lack of routine to your mornings, though you consider it a win in itself being awake before school starts.

You gradually make your way downstairs, adorning an oversized Fresh Prince of Bel-Air t-shirt and the first clean pair of jeans you see, offhandedly reminding yourself to do your laundry.

The house is forebodingly silent, you should’ve long since become accustomed to that. Still you can’t help the acrimonious look you aim toward the note sitting on your kitchen counter, rereading it for the umpteenth time before grabbing yourself some breakfast.

Had to leave town for a case, left you some money for food. Call you when I can - Love Dad

At least he left a note this time you think to yourself despondently.

You don’t blame him for not sticking around, god knows your mom couldn’t either. But at least when she left it was for good. She didn’t resurface every few weeks and pretend to know what was going on in your life, vowing to be more present if given the chance, only to leave the next time a murder happened in some backwater town five thousand miles away from the daughter she swore to stick around for. No, that was all your dad.

You used to admire him, ironically enough. Solving murders and catching the bad guys, he used to be your hero. You and your mom used to allocate hours each day waiting zealously by the phone to hear of his adventures. In the course of time your mom got tired of waiting for your dad to call, eventually she just got tired of him in general. She got tired of you in general.

You never faulted your dad for her desertion, how could you? She left him too. Though you did follow her lead in straying from your perch aside the phone. These days it never rang anyhow.

The sharp honking of a car horn redirects your attention from your melancholic reverie, you grab your bag and set the home alarm before locking the door behind you, grateful for the excuse to be anywhere but your empty house.

“Well don’t you look like a ray of sunshine this morning?” Stu’s voice sounds from the passenger seat of Billy’s car as you smoothly slide into the back.

“What’s ‘a matter? You’re not all freaked about the killer are you?” He questions, turning his lanky body around in the seat so that he’s facing you, his wide dopey grin now on full display.

Right, the killer.

It’s the only story currently circulating on the Woodsboro news, plastered on the cover of every tabloid, not to mention it’s virtually the only thing your friends seem to talk about since it happened.

Casey Becker and her boyfriend Steve Orth were brutally murdered, their remains remorselessly strung up like Christmas ornaments. It should have made you sick to your stomach. But after all the gory photos you’d seen hanging on the cork board in your dad’s office, you couldn’t help the twisted tinge of curiosity that swirled about in your brain. Who did this? Your FBI profiler dad, who specializes in capturing people that commit violent crimes, sure picked a great time to be out of state for work.

“No, but I’m super glad that you always find a way to bring it up. Very well adjusted of you.” You retort with a gentle smile, as you buckle your seatbelt, instantly feeling better at the mere sight of your two best friends.

“Ah, come on. You know we’d never let anything happen t’you. Right, Billy?” He nudges his elbow at Billy, awaiting his agreeance.

“Course not.” Billy states, his voice is gentle but his tone is stern, and you don’t miss the indicative look he flashes Stu. What’s all that about?

“O..kay then.” You make it a point to remember that look. It’s peculiarly akin to the look he gave Stu at the fountain the other morning.

“I didn’t kill anybody” Stu abruptly defended.

“No one’s saying you did.” Billy shot Stu an ominous look of warning.

What the hell are those two idiots hiding?

“My knights in shining armour, truly. However could I repay you?” You deadpan sarcastically, coming to the conclusion that there is definitely something going on. You’re always right about these things. Whatever it is, you’re going to figure it out eventually.

You’ve known Billy and Stu since elementary school, they can’t hide things from you. At least Stu can’t. His facade will shatter like glass if you look up at him with big eyes and an amiable smile. Billy on the other hand, had spent copious amounts of time with you sifting through your father’s research when you were kids, which gave him the invaluable knowledge of how to get away with lying. That and his prodigious poker face.

“Well- And I’m so glad you asked, there’s actually a super easy way to do that. Wouldn’t take too long either-” You don’t even need to look at Stu to know this is another one of his empty-headed innuendos for sex.

“Wouldn’t take too long is right. At least that’s what Tate told me. You might wanna work on that.” You tease, gently squeezing his arm in mock sympathy.

Billy lets out a modest chuckle of approval at your childish rebuttal, sending you a wink in the rear-view mirror when he catches your smile growing at the sound.

You try to ignore the hastening uptick of your pulse at the simple action. He has a girlfriend, you remind yourself remorsefully, he’s your best friend and that’s all.

“Oh really? Guess we’ll just have to wait and see about that, won’t we?” Stu’s resplendent crystal eyes hold an edge of irritation, but before you can discern the connotation of it, they’re overtaken by the playful mischief you’re certain is a permanent fixture in them.

“Speaking of this whole killer business,” You swiftly steer the subject back, aware of your best friends’ infatuation with the topic, “How’s Sid holding up?”

Of all your friends, the killings had the strongest emotional impact on Sidney. When taken into account that the same thing happened to her mom almost exactly a year ago, it’s something of a wonder that she’s showing up to school at all.

Though Cotton Weary was tried and convicted for the murder of Sidney’s mother, you and your dad always shared a covert belief that somebody else was to blame. When you combed through the evidence, albeit evidence you weren’t legally allowed to see, something felt off about it all. Your dad agreed, stating as much to the local police who were less than receptive of his findings. In essence, they told him to fuck off, that they’d closed the case without the help of the FBI.

You never wavered on your belief that the true perpetrator escaped undetected, and now with the same m.o. being used to kill Casey and Steve, you’re adamant that these cases are connected. Of course you’ve kept this ideology to yourself, not wishing to dredge up any more pain for Sid, the poor girl’s already been through more than her fair share of it.

“More frigid than usual I bet. If that’s even possible.” Stu jokes incautiously.

Billy swats Stu firmly in the chest, glancing at you in the mirror again as Stu lets out a minor yelp, “She’s not so good. I tried to make her feel better, but you know how I am with that sort of stuff” he says unhurriedly.

Unfortunately I do, you think to yourself. Of all the things you love about Billy, patience and understanding are not exactly the top contenders. You imagine his version of consoling Sid ended with her feeling worse.

“At least you tried. That counts for something.” You add optimistically, already preparing to check in with Sid the first chance you get.

“I’m not sure it does,” His eyes are surveying your every feature through the rearview mirror and you’re becoming acutely aware that he’s barely spared a glance at the road since he started driving, you being the sole focus of his attention, “Not with her anyway,” He mumbles out the last part but you manage to piece it together inquisitively.

If you were thinking with your emotions instead of your intellect, you’d have picked up on the nuance of his words and the uncharacteristic benevolence of his gaze. You’d have pieced together sooner that you actually had a chance with Billy Loomis.

The trajectory of your life, the lives of your friends, could have been exponentially juxtaposed if you had only continued to prioritize your mind above your heart.

“Fuck!” Oh god, oh god, oh fuck! Not the most eloquent thoughts in the world, but they’re about all you’ve got since you caught sight of the menacing masked figure jumping onto Sidney, armed with a particularly sharp-edged blade.

You’re vehemently regretting tagging along to what was initially intended to be a girls night with Tatum and Sid.

“Safety in numbers,” Tatum smiled impishly, tugging on your arm in that way she does when she wants something bad enough, “Besides, your dad’s gone too! You and Sid would be much safer at my place.” She brought up a valid point. Although you weren’t as unnerved as your friends at the prospect of being murdered, your strong distaste for spending another night alone in your house was enough for you to give in to your friend’s wishes.

“Alright. I’ll come. But no cheesy rom-coms, we’re watching Seven.” You conceded sooner than Tatum expected. She had a whole speech about the sanctity of friendship planned, but she intended to save it for another time.

“You’ll have to convince Sid. You know how she feels about horror movies.”

“I also know how she feels about Brad Pitt,” You teased with a grin, earning an emphatic giggle from Tatum, “Besides, it’s a thriller not a horror. Randy would die just to roll over in his grave if he heard you right now.”

The plan was to go back to your houses separately and grab your things, Tatum would pick you each up on her way home from practice. The plan changed after you observed Sidney throughout the day. You could tell she was jittery and nervous, despite her fruitless attempts at covering it up, so you went straight to her house together after school.

The two of you briskly passed out on opposite ends of the couch, only awoken by the piercing ring of Sid’s telephone. “Tate’s gonna be a while, she got held up at practice.” Sid relayed the message to you, gingerly rubbing the evidence of sleep from her eyes.

You nodded in understanding, moving from your previous position on the couch and deftly stretching the tender muscles in your back.

“I’m gonna grab a glass of water. You want anything?” You asked Sid as the phone resumed ringing, she shook her head no with a comfortable smile and answered the call as you walked toward the kitchen and out of ear shot.

You moved around the kitchen with an air of familiarity, taking your time filling the glass. Your walk back to Sidney turned into a swift jog, confusion and mild alarm made their presence known on your face as you heard her yell “Fuck you, cretin!” into the phone with conviction.

“Sid- Hey, what’s going on?” You moved to comfort her frenzied form, taking over for her shaking hands you swiftly locked the chain on her front door.

“The killer- He… Oh my god!” Her frenetic speech died a merciless death on her lips as she heard the door of her hall closet swing open. Before either of you could register what was happening, the killer was on top of her.

“Fuck!” Sid yelps, flailing wildly in a desperate attempt to escape from the masked lunatic’s grip.

You froze for a moment back there, you aren’t proud of it. All the self-defence lessons and step-by-step protocols for how to survive in a dangerous situation seemed to have vanished from your mind. But now you can hear his voice in your head, stern but compassionately reassuring like it always was, “C’mon (y/n), this is life or death. As much as I wish I could, I can’t always be here with a gun and a vest to protect you. So come on, how are you gonna fight back?” You used to hate it when he did that. Why should a girl your age worry about those things?

Thanks Dad, you silently praise, guess you make the time we spend together count.

You snap out of it instantaneously, bringing down your half-empty glass of water over the killer’s head with considerable force, shattering it to pieces and stunning him long enough for you to send a brutal kick to his side, temporarily removing his looming figure from atop Sidney. You suppress a wince as you notice one particularly long shard of glass has embedded itself deeply into your palm, blood trickling evenly from the gash as you gingerly remove it.

You waste no time grabbing Sidney from the floor, pulling her along with haste as you reach the staircase and begin your ascent. “Wait- The front door is-” She starts before you cut her off, “It’s locked Sid. We don’t have time, he’s right behind us.” She turns to gage the distance and her eyes widen substantially as she sees just how correct you are. He’s right there.

In a matter of nanoseconds the killer grabs ahold of Sidney’s foot, giving it a solid tug. Her hand slips from yours as he drags her down the steps.

“Anything can be used as a weapon, especially when you combine it with the element of surprise.” Your dad’s voice rings through your ears once more as you stormily grab hold of a bulky framed painting from the wall and smash it down onto the killer’s head. He groans and trips back a half-step, just enough distance for you to pull Sidney back up, taking care to hold on extra tightly as you resume your course to her bedroom.

Hightailing it to her room, the two of you close the door behind you, Sidney rushing to alert the police as you make a half-assed attempt to barricade the door shut, working at warp-speed.

The door jolts violently behind you as the killer manages to squeeze his arm through, prompting Sid to bellow out a short scream of terror. You push back on the door with all your body weight, a triumphant smile fighting its way to the surface as you hear the vociferous groan of pain emitting from your pursuer. He pulls his arm back with haste, allowing the door to shut fully behind you.

It’s agonizingly silent. What’s he going to do now? He’s much stronger than you or Sidney, surely he could break down the door. Or stab it with his knife, stab you with his knife. You’re eagerly awaiting his next move. Sid, on the other hand, needs this to be the end of it. She manages to contact the police through her computer, and you can’t deny the pride you feel for her, carrying on despite the clearcut terror she’s just experienced.

You both turn toward the window on high alert, a noise informing you that you’re not alone. You grab the first thing within your reach, Sidney’s hairbrush, and hurl it with impressive force at the figure entering her bedroom.

“Ow! Jesus (y/n)! What the hell’s goin’ on? I heard Sid screaming. The door was locked. Are you guys okay?” Billy questions, pulling himself through the window once he recovers from the hairbrush hit to his temple.

I heard Sid screaming.

How did he know it was Sid who screamed? And what exactly was he doing here anyway?

No, you cut yourself off, there’s no way! It’s Billy, he wouldn’t…

Would he?

When you and your dad made the profile for Maureen’s killer, you determined that it had to be a young adult male between the ages of 16 to 24. You also theorized that he had to know Maureen, the level of rage present in her killing was too personal for a stranger to carry out. Your dad threw around the idea that maybe there were two killers, one with a hunger to be in control, the other just along for the thrill of the hunt.

You remember the day you brought the profile up to Billy and Stu.

The three of you were watching some cheesy 80s slasher in Stu’s spacious living room, Stu’s arm around your waist as your head gently laid on Billy’s shoulder.

“My dad agrees with me you know?” You start, voice overtaking the synthetic screams of whichever big-breasted actress was getting slaughtered on screen, “That it wasn’t Cotton Weary. He actually thinks there were two of ‘em.” Billy and Stu both tense up, causing you to observe them from the corner of your eye.

There was a brief look of alarm on Stu’s face causing your eyebrows to furrow together in confusion. Perhaps you should have kept your reaction subdued, as Billy picked up on it instantaneously. He delicately grabbed ahold of your chin, the pads of his fingertips setting your skin ablaze beneath them, turning your face to his he muttered coldly, “Since when do you care what that asshole thinks?”

Your gaze dropped from his, a frown taking over your lips. He’s right, in a way, but he doesn’t have to say it like that.

“Hey, come on Sunshine, turn that frown upside down, huh?” Stu was his usual sanguine self again in the blink of an eye, that beautiful broad grin already back in its rightful place on his lips, “Who needs him anyway? You got us.”

“Yeah,” You smiled back despite yourself, “Guess that makes me pretty lucky.”

For someone who loves talking about murder so much, he always manages to brazenly shut it down whenever you bring up the profile. The profile that he fits.

How did you never see it before?

“Sid,” You start slowly, taking a gentle step toward the girl who’s wrapped in her boyfriend’s embrace. You’re attempting this with the utmost care so as not to alarm Billy, in case he’s hiding the familiar blade on his person, “This cut on my hand is pretty deep,” It’s true, though you couldn’t care less about it, “Can you come help me with it, please.”

Shit.

Your voice broke on the last syllable and you’re definitive that he noticed.

Billy turns to you with a look of confusion, it’s almost as though he can read your mind. “Your hand?” He questions, not releasing Sid from his grip, “What happened to your hand?” He seems genuinely concerned and you’re beginning to doubt your own instincts. Until Sid pulls away from his grip, a soft thump resounding as something falls from Billy’s pocket.

A mobile phone.

The kind of mobile phone a killer would have if he had just made a menacing, life-threatening phone call to his girlfriend.

Why did you have to be right?

Six minutes and fifty-two seconds. You don’t time it, but that’s how long it takes for you to change into your pyjamas, or in this case one of Dewey’s old t-shirts that less than flatteringly falls below your knees in an Ebenezer Scrooge sort of way, and get situated beside Tatum in one of her twin beds.

Despite the cataclysmic series of events you’ve just been through, you manage a loose smile as you watch Sidney ice her hand after landing a particularly impressive punch on Gale Weathers’ face.

“The pain’s gonna fade in the morning but the pride’ll last. At least mine will, you’re kinda badass, Prescott.” You jest, attempting to quell the foreboding thoughts you’re sure are threatening to chew her up and swallow her whole.

“Ditto,” She motions to your injured hand, all bandaged up thanks to Dewey’s gentle insistence, “I’m sorry it happened, you shouldn’t have gotten hurt saving me.” She concludes, ever the saint.

“Sid, no. Okay? None of that should have happened in the first place.” And I should have seen it coming. You keep that one to yourself.

“Do you really think Billy did it?” Tatum questions from beside you.

“He was there, Tatum.” Sidney replies solemnly.

You zone out of the conversation, even after Sidney leaves the room. You can’t stop thinking about the look Billy gave you as they pushed him into the back of the police car. He was desperate, that much was obvious, but there was something else there too, it was almost like he was heartbroken.

Why would he look at you like that?

Maybe he was upset that you figured him out before he had the chance to gut you like a fish. Maybe it was because he knew Sid would never speak to him again.

Or maybe it was because he couldn’t fathom you believing this about him, you ponder remorsefully, maybe he was innocent.

You’re on edge, anyone with a functioning pair of eyes can see that. But it’s not for the reasons they’d think. You’re not scared of some masked psycho reaching out and slicing your throat. You’re perturbed at all of the eyes that are drawn to you like moths to a flame.

You’d had enough of it before the first period bell even rang.

“How does it feel to be almost murdered?” An immensely insensitive reporter shouted, hovering the microphone unreasonably close to Sid’s face, onlookers gathered around you, awaiting her response with bated breath, “Keep holding that thing in her face and I’ll be happy to ask you the same question.” You threatened half-heartedly, gently maneuvering Sid and yourself through the crowd.

“Hey pretty lady,” Stu’s congenial voice sounds from behind you, firmly knocking this morning’s unpleasant memory from your cranium. He wraps his gangly arms around your middle and bends down a farcical distance to rest his chin upon your shoulder, “Star in any good horror movies lately?” He questions, letting out a chortle at his own words.

“You’re a really emotionally intelligent guy Stu. Anybody ever tell you that?” Your acerbic undertone isn’t lost on him for once as he registers your discomfort.

“Hey- That was- You know I’m just joking, I’m sorry.”

“I know you’re joking, you’re just not very funny.”

Removing his hands from your body, too soon for your liking, you think, he throws himself dramatically against a row of lockers, hands on his heart as he groans in mock agony, “Take it back! Please, take it back!”

He’s an idiot.

An idiot with perfectly carved dimples and the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen. And you want so desperately not to give in to his theatrics, but you can’t help it, not when those eyes are shining at you like the cascading glimmer of the moonlight. You’re smiling before you can stop yourself.

“Ahhh, there it is,” Stu’s voice still holds that ever-present joking tone, but his eyes are sincere, like he’s desperate for you to pick up on the emotion hiding beneath it all, “Can’t live without that smile. ‘M never gonna let you go.”

Your heartbeat rapidly increases in pace and you all but force yourself to look anywhere but his imprudently handsome face. Stop that, you internalize, best friends, nothing more.

“(y/n), hey. Can I talk to you for a sec?” You don’t need to redirect your gaze to pinpoint the source of the voice.

It’s Billy.

“See ya later, Sunshine.” Stu bids you farewell, placing a gentle lingering kiss on the apple of your cheek.

“I have to get to class.” You turn to walk from Billy, not in the mood to hear whatever tales of deception he’s concocted in the confines of his imagination.

“Just-” He reaches out for your arm, stopping dead in his tracks when you flinch away from his touch, “Give me ten minutes okay? If you hate me after that, then I’ll leave you alone for good.” The sorrow in his voice is enough to keep your feet firmly planted.

“You’ve got,” You spare a quick glimpse at the clock on the wall, mentally calculating how long it’ll be before you’re late to AP Chemistry, “Six minutes and fifty-two seconds. Take it or leave it.”

“Yeah, I’ll take it.” He attempts a smile but it falls faster than it formed.

“I’m not an idiot Billy. Or- Or maybe I am, because I didn’t see it sooner, but-”

“Don’t do that,” His voice resembles a whisper, his eyes are pleading but there’s also an edge in them that makes the hair stand up on the back of your neck, “Don’t- You know me, right? We’ve been friends since we were kids. Look at me,” His fingers reach out for you, a near imperceptible smile twitching at the sides of his mouth when you don’t immediately recoil, “You know me. I’d never do anything to hurt you.”

You know in your mind that there’s no reasonable explanation for how it all adds up. He fits the profile. But in your heart, you know he’s telling you the truth. The look in his eyes confirms his words, he wouldn’t hurt you.

Against your better judgement you lean into his touch, his hand finds its way to your cheek, drawing indistinguishable circles above your zygomatic bone with his thumb.

“What about Sid? Have you talked to her?” You feel his body tense up, though he does a good job of keeping his emotions unreadable.

“Yeah. We talked.”

“And?”

“And,” He breathes agitatedly, “We broke up.”

“You what? Well- Are you okay? Is she okay? Oh god, I should go find her.” You softly attempt to maneuver from his grip but his hold tightens slightly.

“She’s the one who dumped me, so I’m sure she’s fine.”

“Does she still think-?”

“No. No, she knows I didn’t do it. But I guess it just wasn’t working out.” If he’s lying, he should make a career out of it. You’re studying every inch of his captivatingly handsome face, and you can’t find a hint of misrepresentation.

“It’s for the best really,” His honeyed gaze settles on your own eyes, your breath hitching noticeably as you take in their mahogany-toned opulence, “Otherwise I couldn’t do this.” His lips are on your own without a moments hesitation.

You know the only intelligent response is to pull away and race to AP Chem, pretending like it never happened. But today you’re letting your heart think for you. And it feels precariously marvellous. You kiss him back with more passion than you knew you were capable of mustering, the years of feelings you’ve hidden away, even from yourself, come spilling out from your lips and land delectably onto his.

Billy moves his unoccupied hand into your hair, giving it a gentle tug, expertly sliding his tongue into your mouth the moment your lips part to release a gentle moan. If this is what it feels like to prioritize your heart above your mind, you’re not entirely confident you’ll ever use your brain again.

The vociferous ringing of the warning bell unwillingly splits the two of you apart, though his forehead still rests contentedly against your own.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that, Doll.” His eyes are looking at you with a plethora of unknown emotions and your heart is beating far too fast for you to decipher them.

“Worth the wait?” You question softly.

“Absolutely. Glad the wait’s almost over though.”

The wait’s almost over.

Maybe it was the warning bell, or your AP Chem teacher’s disdain for tardiness, or your ever-hastening heartbeat and affections for a certain brown-eyed boy, but you missed it.

The one and only slip-up he made all day and you were too lovestruck to notice.

Those six minutes and fifty-two seconds would cost you big time.

“Ahh, there’s my Sunshine. Perfect timing!” Stu swings a lanky arm over your shoulders as you catch up to him in the school parking lot. “I just finished spreading the good news,” He states with a cheeky grin, as if you should have any idea what he’s referring to.

“Oh, well are congratulations in order then? How far along are you?” You press a teasing hand to his stomach, grin growing as he sticks his tongue out at you, moving his hands to your sides and giving you a short tickle.

“Oh, ha-ha. She’s a real comedian today, huh?” He narrows his eyes in jest, “I’m talkin’ about the crazy killer get outta school free bash I’m throwin’ tonight. You’re coming of course,” He tells you rather than asks you, though you’ve never had much luck saying no to Stu.

“Another one of your million dollar ideas I presume? ‘Cause there’s nothing totally birdbrained about throwing a curfew-breaking rager with a masked psycho killer on the loose.” You’re not keen on the idea of showing up to some party with everything that’s been happening, not to mention what Sid must think of it all.

Not that you have a right to act all sanctimonious when it comes to Sidney’s feelings, her relationship with Billy was barely over before you had your tongue down his throat.

“Come on, Sunshine, it’ll all mean nothing without you there.”

It’ll all mean nothing.

“What’ll mean nothing?” You question gently, careful to hide the inquisitive edge to your query.

Stu’s eyes widen sizeably as he clears his throat, “Just- Nothing. You’re- You’re coming right?”

After that? You’re definitely going. Tonight you’re figuring out once and for all what this boy’s been hiding from you.

You tried to stay away from Billy, honestly. But the second his eyes met yours in Stu’s living room, you knew it was a futile attempt.

The two of you expeditiously wandered upstairs into one of the many vacant bedrooms available in the Macher house, barely closing the door behind you before your lips were melding together.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about this all day,” Billy hums against your lips, placing another searing kiss there before moving his way down to your neck.

Engaging in a moment of passion at a party while an unidentified serial killer roams on the loose may not have been your finest moment but, unintelligently, that was the furthest thing from your mind. Billy’s hands were now sliding delectably slowly underneath the hem of your shirt as his lips continued their pursuit on your neck, that was the sole occupant of your thoughts.

At least it was, until you saw him.

Before you could verbalize the killer’s sudden materialization to Billy, it was too late.

The masked figure hastily removed Billy from your grip, his cold steely blade acrimoniously slashing Billy with ease, ostensibly the knife was even sharper than it looked. Billy’s blood splattered onto your face and you made the split second decision that, this time, a glass of water and a painting weren’t going to protect you.

“(y/n), I need you to remember this part, okay? No matter how scared or tired or hopeless you feel, if you can run, you run! Alright?” You’d heard your dad’s voice more in your head these past few days than you had out loud in months, but at that moment you were simply grateful you’d ever heard it at all.

You didn’t chance a single look behind you, expertly weaving your way through Stu’s house and out the back door. You didn’t glance back even after you’d escaped the house and almost crossed the property line.

Where did all the cars go?

If there were any other choice, you wouldn’t have ran back into the house. But your friends were nowhere to be found and, peculiarly, neither was the killer.

If he was out there looking for you, surely he’d never expect you to go back inside. All you had to do was reach the phone in the kitchen and call 911. The last sight you were prepared to see was the killer’s masked face parallel to your own.

“Well... How do ya like our big reveal, Sunshine?” Stu grins wickedly from behind Sidney.

The deep crimson remnants of the scene you thought you’d witnessed are still making their way down your face, trickling along your tepid skin like raindrops on a car window. You wipe them away fervently, the whirlwind of emotions swirling within you becoming more than you can bear.

It’s not even real blood.

“What is this?” You utter nauseously, gesturing to the foreign substance coating your face.

It’s probably the least important question you could be asking right now but you’ll admit the two of them have put on quite the performance. You’re sickened, but you’re curious.

Billy removes his mask, stepping closer to you and wiping a drop of the mystery liquid from your cheek, ignoring the way you flinch at his touch and placing the finger onto his tongue he lets out a low hum of approval, “’S’Corn syrup, Doll. Same stuff they used for pig’s blood in Carrie.”

Jesus.

Sid freed herself from Stu’s grip, him and Billy now distractedly gazing at you with distinguishable looks of pride. You gesture your head near-imperceptibly toward the entryway, a silent request for her to run while she has the chance. She hesitates, clearly apprehensive about leaving you to fend for yourself with two armed maniacs, but you need her to go. You can attempt your own escape when you know she’s safe.

“You had me fooled,” You start in a desperate effort to maintain their attention, “I mean, I had my doubts- But that whole fake death scene upstairs? You guys really sold it.” Sid discreetly makes her way to the entryway, stopping to look at you with a final questioning look on her weary face.

Nodding your head near invisibly, you make the devastating mistake of sweeping your eyes over her frame to survey her injuries. It was quick, a nanosecond at most before your gaze was back in front of you, but it wasn’t quick enough to go unnoticed by Billy, who grabs ahold of his knife and has it pointed against Sid’s throat in a matter of seconds.

Billy and Stu launch into a certifiably demented rant, their words exploding on Sidney in a particularly violent manner.

Why would they have it out for Sid specifically?

Oh.

Billy turns toward you and ends his dialogue without warning when he recognizes the look of understanding on your features.

“You killed her,” You breathe a near sigh of relief, finally understanding the bigger picture, “You killed Maureen and you’ve spent the last- Who fucking knows how long you’ve spent, just planning this- All to torture Sid.” It’s all making so much fucking sense and you can’t believe the amount of time it’s taken you to piece it all together, “You killed Casey Becker too, ‘cause she sits next to Sid in English. You knew she’d see that empty seat every day and be reminded of her mom. Psychological warfare…”

Billy looks uncharacteristically proud watching you piece it all together, “Got it in one, (y/n).”

“You’re- You’re sick! Why? Why the fuck would you do that?” Sidney struggles in Billy’s hold as he explains his motive behind her mother’s murder.

Mommy issues. Figures you’d have that in common.

Stu looks outwardly surprised at Billy’s reveal, indirectly confirming your dad’s two person theory. One killer with a personal connection to the victim and the other just in it for the thrill of the hunt. Dad’s gonna be so pissed he missed this, you regard inwardly.

“How are you gonna do it then?” You question the two unjustly handsome lunatics.

“Do what, Sweetheart?” Billy asks benevolently from beside Sid, still holding the tip of his blade to her neck.

“How are you gonna kill me?” You probe.

The question is a test. You’ve got a theory that they didn’t plan far enough ahead to remember that your dad will hunt them down to the ends of the earth after you die, especially since they haven’t seemed particularly keen on covering their trail. If you figured them out this quickly, your dad would have them behind bars in no time.

“What?” Billy asks, all previous traces of jubilance promptly removed from his face.

“How are you going to kill me?” You repeat tauntingly, if your best friends since elementary school were going to kill you like it was nothing, you were going to enjoy the thought of them spending the rest of their lives in florescent orange jumpsuits, “Spare me the gory details but, you do know what FBI stands for, right? Good luck getting away with it this time.” Thankfully, your voice manages to come out far more confident than you’re feeling inside.

Stu moves from beside you to in front of you, gently placing his sizeable hands on either side of your face. Has he always been this tall? Craning your neck to look up at him, the smug smile you managed to plaster on slides off and morphs into confusion as you notice the doleful look on his face. Why is he looking at you like you just kicked his puppy?

“You can’t really believe that,” His voice is so gentle, you could almost forget the sheer lunacy that was dripping from it moments ago, “What did I tell you, Sunshine? I’m never gonna let you go.” He’s looking at your lips like he wants to kiss them, and if you were under any other circumstance, there’d be nothing to keep you from it. He leans in and you almost move to do the same before you hear Sidney’s panicked voice calling out.

“Leave her alone! Please. If you want to kill me then fucking do it already, just let (y/n) go!”

Right, this is an active hostage situation.

Stu let his guard down to console you. Both of his hands on your head means he’s no longer holding the gun, but there’s no easy way to go about gaining control of it. You could kick him in the shins and hope he stays distracted long enough, but your dad’s voice runs through your mind once again, “You can’t reason with a psychopath (y/n), but sometimes you can play along with their fantasy to gain their trust.” You know this isn’t what he had in mind, but you’re running out of options.

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you lean up on your toes and kiss Stu with fervour. It’s a good kiss, one of the best you’ve ever had, in fact. There’s a moment, just a split second while you’re reaching for the gun behind his back, that you wish it was for real. He pulls you in deeper and you try to convince yourself that you’re only kissing back to make it believable.

Finally you feel the cool metallic handle of the gun, gripping onto it firmly you muster up the strength to pull back from Stu’s embrace. Aiming the barrel between him and Billy, you can almost feel your heart crack at the look of betrayal painted upon Stu’s face.

No, you remind yourself sternly, they kill people. For fun. They’re not your best friends anymore, they’re murderers.

“Let her go.” You ignore the internal war waging between your heart and your mind.

“(y/n)…” Billy’s not as shocked as Stu. As a matter of fact, Billy’s not shocked at all. He knows you, almost better than you know yourself, “Put the gun down. You’re not gonna shoot us.” His voice is stern, his words a cross between a warning and a command.

He’s right, as usual. The one thing your dad could never get you to do was shoot a gun. You fucking hate those things.

“You’re right, I’m not gonna shoot you,” Your voice is even, but you know he picks up on the slight shake of your hands as you aim the gun toward his chest, “As long as you let her go.”

“That’s not gonna happen, Doll.” He shakes his head, frustration rapidly becoming anger “I’m not asking you again (y/n). Put it down. Now.”

“Or what?” You bluff in a last ditch attempt to maintain a facade of bravery.

Billy’s anger finally reaches its boiling point and he answers your question wordlessly.

It’s different than it looks in the movies. The blood doesn’t trickle out slowly and melodramatically. It spews out like a faucet and it never stops.

You drop the gun after that, rushing to sit at Sid’s side on the floor in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding. It was a single deep slash, clean across her throat. The quiet gurgling sounds of blood filling her lungs finally subside after her last breath sounds, and your crimson stained hands remove themselves from her neck.

“Now, are you gonna start listening to me? Or do I have to do somethin’ like that again?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You know what’s wrong with him, with both of them. They’re psychopaths. But you can’t prevent the question from slipping past your lips, you’re desperate for some understanding as to what exactly is it is they intend to gain from their whole plan.

“What’s wrong with me? I told you to put the fuckin’ thing down!” Billy’s still angry, what’s new? “Shit! That’s not how it was supposed to go.” His agitation fading slightly into discontent. Clearly he wanted to take his time killing Sid. At least you spared her some suffering.

“We gotta get out of here Billy. It’s only a matter of time before the cops show up.” Stu’s voice sounds, entirely indifferent to the scene he just witnessed.

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right,” Billy runs his left hand through his hair in a gesture of frustration, his right hand latched firmly on the gun you dropped after he slit Sidney’s throat, “Shit! Alright, let’s go.” He gestures his head to the door, his eyes haven’t left you since your little standoff, making it clear that he’s talking to you.

“What?” Your voice is laced with perplexion. He can’t seriously expect you to walk out of there with them.

Right?

“C’mon, Sunshine. You already got him in a mood, don’t make it any worse.” Stu’s voice holds that ever present hint of amusement, as if this is just like old times, when you and Stu would make one too many jokes at Billy’s expense and he’d spend the rest of the day sulking.

“I’m not- You can’t actually think I’m going anywhere with you,” You chuckle in disbelief, “You just killed my best friends!” You don’t have explicit confirmation that Randy and Tatum are dead too, but considering the current state of affairs, it’s reasonably obvious.

“We’re your best friends, (y/n). We’re more than that, actually.” Billy kneels down in front of you on the kitchen floor. His anger has finally subsided, he’s speaking in a normal tone, the sticky crimson remnants on your hands serve as the only reminder of his previous outburst.

“That was before-”

“Oh come on, Doll,” He cuts you off, calloused fingers wiping the excess corn syrup from your face, “You ever wonder why the daughter of an FBI profiler couldn’t figure out there was something off with us?” His grin is wicked but his touch is gentle, almost comforting, “It’s ‘cause you didn’t want to see it. You didn’t want anything to get between us, because you feel the same way about us that we do about you.”

You want to tell him to fuck off. That he’s crazy and you have no idea what he’s talking about. But you can’t. Because he’s right, he’s right and he knows it.

Taking your silence as confirmation he continues, delicately tracing your cheek with his nimble fingers, “You love us,” Stu makes his way to your side, smiling with dimples on full display as Billy speaks, “And you can try and deny it, if you want to. But we all know the truth.”

“So what if I did?” You finally find your voice, it’s shakier than you’d like but it’s there, “If you know me as well as you think you do, then you know there’s no way in hell I’d go anywhere with you after this.”

“You wanna know how well I know you?” Billy’s voice is sharp, bitter, you’re getting under his skin again, “I know you, (y/n). I know you’re not afraid of masked killers, or watching your friend die,” He releases you from his grip, standing back to his full height as his words permeate your brain, “I know your worst fear.” He gestures for Stu to follow as he takes small leisurely steps toward the doorway, ignoring the look of confusion and panic on Stu’s face at the prospect of leaving there without you.

Stu reluctantly follows Billy toward the exit, not removing his eyes from your enervated form. When they finally reach the doorway Billy resumes his speech, a contemptuous tone lacing his voice, “Being left here all alone.” He says simply.

This is your own fault, really. Allowing someone to get so close to you, learn everything about you, use everything they’ve learned against you.

You could argue that he’s wrong, but he’s not.

You could go out fighting, but you don’t.

You could stay sitting on the floor until the police inevitably discover you, but you won’t.

Billy walks back over to you, offering you a hand with a mischievous glint present in his eyes, “So,” He starts devilishly, “What’s it gonna be, Doll?”

#scream 1996 #my stuff

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self-indulgent-writer · 6 months

Text

What if Dark Sam had a bimbo!reader roommate..? continuation

I made this one a fic instead…

so so so sorry this took legit years i js kinda forgot that i was a writer

warnings: CNC, performing oral sex on a strap-on, mentions biting in one paragraph so slight odaxelagnia(?)

Requested: by @f4riedimples

Your feet padded across your shared apartment floors as you went to the kitchen.

The built-in clock on the oven read 8:50. Sam worked on the other side of the city and she got off of her shift at 8:30. She should be home soon.

You turned towards the refrigerator and opened the door. At least you knew how to cook. You put in your earbuds and put your main playlist on shuffle. You danced along to the beat of various songs as the time passed.

You were finished cooking up a quick meal for yourself just as Sam opened the front door. She heard the melodic humming of your favorite song and your feet tapping to the beat.

She stuck her head in the kitchen and almost chuckled at the sight. You were at the counter, mindlessly scrolling on your phone. Sam wordlessly came up behind you and wrapped her arms around your waist.

“Hey Sam! How was your day?” you turned your head towards her to greet her.

Sam sighed and removed one hand from around your waist to run it through her hair. She bent over slightly and rested her head in the crook of your neck.

“Fucking exhausting,” Sam’s hands strayed under your shirt. She ghosted her fingertips across the smooth surface of your stomach, causing goosebumps to appear.

Your breath hitched slightly each time she would touch a sensitive spot. You moved your hands towards hers and grab them softly, her rough hands creating a vast contrast against you soft ones.

“Sam, I already said i didn’t want to do this anymore…” you swiftly slid away from Sam’s arms and put distance between yourselves.

Sam feigned a sad face. Not like you could tell it was fake anyways. Sam knew you were dumb and she used it to her advantage to manipulate you.

“But think about all that I’ve been through. You would know how it is if you went through it. The least you could do is let me do what I want.” Sam closed the gap between the two of you.

She rested her hands on your hips and dipped her head to plant a soft kiss to you neck. Sam lifted her head back up and locked eyes with you.

“Please?” Sam begged hopefully. You broke the eye contact.

“Okay, but this is the last time” you shuddered as Sam’s hands lowered to your ass and lifts you on top of the counter.

Your lips locked and Sam trailed her hands to your thighs and squeezed them. Your hands gripped the counters alongside you. Sam grabbed the hem of your shirt and lifted it above and over you head, tossing it carelessly.

She slid her hands up to the hook of your bra and fiddled with it until the bra fell from your chest, letting you previously confined breasts fall.

Sam started to play with your boobs causing you to gasp, giving Sam the opportunity to stick her tongue in your mouth.

“Sammy…” you whined while tilting your head back to give Sam more access to kiss and litter your neck with bites and hickies.

“Be patient” Sam mumbled as she lowered down your shorts. She moved her kisses to the inner of your thighs and moved up to your wet heat.

She flattened out your tongue and licked a stripe up your whole pussy. She slowly flicked her tongue across your clit. You let out a quiet, high-pitched noise and stuck one of your hands in you hair, effectively ruffling it.

Sam attached her lips to your bundle of nerves and harshly sucked. Your toes curl and you bite your bottom lip just barely hard enough to draw a bit of blood.

Sam pulled away from your drooling pussy, dripping slick. A line of your juices trailed with her mouth as she jutted her tongue out to lick up the rest of your essence from her mouth.

“But I-I didn’t even get to finish, Sammy” you complained in discontent.

“I would much rather have you cum on my strap, baby.” Sam dropped her pants and grabbed the back of your knees and slid you closer to the edge.

Your heartbeat fastened in anticipation when Sam lifted you, her hands squeezing the bottom of your thighs, and lined your clenching hole up with her strap.

She slid you down onto her faux cock and groaned when you let out a near pornographic moan. She laid your back against the counter and held your hands beside your head, interlocking your fingers.

“Sammy! Fuck-“ Sam cut your drawn out sentence short by smashing your lips together once again. The fluidity of the kiss and the harsh thrusting of her hip brought you close to your release.

Sam lifted her head back up from your lips. Her pupils were blown wide as she watched you leaned you cheek on the cold counter. She removed one of her hands from your harsh hold and moved you hand to your naked stomach. She put her hand on top of yours and pressed. hard.

You let out a loud moan, causing your voice to echo through the kitchen. Sam slid her silicone cock out of you.

“On your knees. I want you to clean your mess.” Sam’s voice was full of confidence and authority. You complied. You were now on the floor, sucking Sam off.

Your head bobbed back and forth, and you hollowed out your cheeks. You kept going. Sam jerked her hips forwards, making you gag.

You immediately removed you mouth from Sam’s strap and coughed. Tears welled in your eyes and laced you lashes. Sam grabbed the back of your head and put you back on her cock.

Your hands flew to the back of her thighs and your nails dug into her skin. Tears were slowly dripping down your face as you took what you received.

Sam’s thrusts started getting sloppy, and she stopped altogether and came. She let out a low groan. She let you off her strap and helped you off the ground. She may use you, but she isn’t heartless. These were times Sam was thankful Tara had night classes. She didn’t know what she would do if-

“Sam? I’m home! What’s for dinner…” Tara’s voice trailed off as she saw the scene in front of her. You and Sam butt-ass naked in the middle of the kitchen. the only thing remotely close to clothing was the glistening strap attached to Sam’s waist. “What the actual fuck,”

#sam carpenter #sam carpenter smut #sam carpenter x reader #x reader #melissa barrera x reader #scream #scream x reader

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oneforthemunny · 11 days

Note

Could we possibly get a spanking blurb I don’t care which Eddie I just need him to beat my ass😩

sure why not lol. for freaky friday. this was longer than i meant it to be lol.

thinking of going with the classic, dom!eddie. smut ahead. minors dni.

"Grab some plates." You nod towards the cabinet, steam lifting from the pot of pasta boiling on the stove beneath you.

"Plates?" Eddie hummed, tone lilting in a playful way, hand sliding over your hip when he passed you. "Plates for mac and cheese?"

"Yes," You huffed, fighting back an eye roll. You knew he was watching you, itching for you to slip, give him a reason to punish you.

You were so close to winning. Tomorrow, you'd wake up victorious in your little bet with Eddie. A silly bet that started playful until both your competitive natures turned it to something more.

"You couldn't act right if your life depended on it." Eddie scoffed, rolling his eyes at you. "I think it would actually kill you to be sweet for a few days. Not be bratty for once in your life. No way you could do it."

"Please," You huffed back. "I could do it, but you piss me off. Get me to that point."

"That right?" Eddie hummed, tongue rolling down his cheek.

"You know it is." You lifted your brows. "You can't help it. You love it too much. Just push me to my limit where I snap."

"Care to make a little wager?" Eddie's eyes dazzled, bright with excitement that left your tummy flipping. "Four days. I won't provoke you, you don't brat to me. You make it the full four days, you win. If you don't, I win."

"What do I win?" You chirped smugly. "Because I will win."

Eddie bit back a grin. It was going to be too easy. You couldn't help it. "Loser has to do whatever the winner says for a whole day." Eddie shrugged.

"Anything?" You lifted a brow.

"Anything." Eddie nodded.

"Non-sexual too?" Your eyes narrowed towards him.

"Sure. Why not." Eddie shrugged casually, sticking out a ringed hand towards you. "We have a deal?" Your hand in his, the two of you shook on it. A done deal.

Eddie expected you to break by day two. He knew you'd be on your A-Game for the first day, wearing thin on the second. Eddie's eyes would widen with excitement every time your breath would hitch, a snarky comment threatening to roll right off the tip of your tongue, only for a sweet remark to come out instead.

Now, as day four was drawing closer to the end, Eddie had accepted you as the winner. Not that he minded. This was the one bet he could lose and still end feeling like a winner.

"Could just eat it out of the pot." Eddie shrugged, swiping the two plates down from the top shelf. "Less dishes to wash."

"No." You tried to keep your tone light through gritted teeth.

"Just sayin'," Eddie shrugged, pulling the colander out from under the sink, placing it in the sink for you. "I used to do it all the time. We can get two spoons, share it." He grinned at you.

"You don't wanna share a pot with me, hm? Just like we do with popcorn at the movies, but better because it's mac and cheese, and-"

"-That's the stupidest fucking thing I've ever heard." You huffed, throwing your hands up. "That's so messy and disgusting, and you'll end up hogging the whole thing just like you do with the popcorn. We can eat it off plates like normal people do."

The kitchen fell silent, the hiss of the vent the only sound filling the space between you. Your chest settled, days of building agitation replaced with sudden dread. Eddie's eyes wide, gawking at you in disbelief, slowly spreading into a smile.

"You-" Eddie pointed at you. "Holy shit, you lost." He barked out a laugh.

"I did not." You hissed. "You-You pushed me to it!"

"Nuh-uh, don't even try that with me, baby." Eddie shook his head. "You and I both know I was not trying then. That was all you."

Your shoulders slumped in defeat, lip jutting in a furious pout. He was right, and you knew it. You hated it, but you knew it. Eddie had won.

"Fine," You huffed, flicking the stove eye off, moving the pan to the other eye to cool. "You win. Guess we'll be eating out of the pan tonight then?" Your lips curled in a bitter snarl.

Eddie fought back a smirk, lips pressing together smugly. "No, wanna save it for tomorrow. Really get a whole day out of it." He hummed, pulling the drawer above the sink open.

You rolled your eyes, grabbing the pot holder, wrapping it around the hot metal handle to strain the noodles. "Just leave that there." Eddie nodded towards you. "Don't want it to get cold."

"What?" Your brows pinched together in a furrow.

"My victory day doesn't start until tomorrow, but," Eddie pulled the wooden spoon out of the drawer, satisfied with how your eyes widened, your face falling at the sight. "Gotta fix that attitude real quick."

"Eddie," You whined, squirming under his darkened glare.

"Don't even try it, sweetheart." Eddie shook his head at you, taking in a step to close in the space. "You know better than that."

Your cheeks blistered with embarrassed heat, sulking towards the kitchen table, bending over the wood. You pressed your thighs together, a desperate attempt to dull the throbbing between your legs that only intensified as Eddie got closer.

His hand shoving down your little cotton shorts onto the floor, anchoring his free palm onto your spine, before the first hit fell. Your lungs squeezed out a startled gasp of a breath, raising on your toes at the impact. It burned, settled into an achy sting that had you whimpering- still you had to swallow the moan that threatened to follow, lifting your hips back into place, eager for another.

Eddie didn't remark, though he didn't miss the tiny whine that feel from your lips. Instead, he let the spoon rain down in sharp, quick successions all over your cheeks. A steady rhythm of wood snapping against your skin, the table creaking with every squirm.

You knew you'd welt, have round shaped marks that you'd frown at in the mirror tomorrow, running your hand over them and try to ignore the throbbing that'd begin all over again.

For now, Eddie's hands sunk into your hips, a hard hold on them as he used you, rocked your body back and forth, up and down his length. Drilling you over the table, hip bones snapping into the hot skin of your ass as you clawed into the wood of the table.

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secret-smut-sideblog · 2 months

Text

Girl Talk

Astarion x F! Tav

18+ talks of sexuality, implied trauma, safe words, role reversal, breast worship, grinding, fingering (m!), ass play, rimming, prostate orgasm, some gender play, aftercare, porn w/o plot

One late night Astarion turned their conversation to a more sensual topic and was delighted to discover Tav lacked experience with men. Naturally he was more than happy to lend a hand...

"So you've never..." He smiled, laying on his side next to her, the faint miasma of wine around them.

"Never?" She asked, incredulous. "Astarion do you take me for a holy woman?" Smiling cheekily at him. "I thought you surface dwellers thought all Drow are insatiable."

"Well, are they?"

"No comment." She lifted her glass to her lips, sliding her eyes away from him mischievously.

They had been traveling together for a while now and had struck up a fast friendship. Her snarky words and wanton flirtation winning him over. Sharp tongue and sharper eyes.

She leaned back, thinking. "Its more that I've been mostly with women. Sure there was a man or two but they didn't make it far enough to make an impression. Didnt get far below the belt." She shrugged, waving her hand noncommittally.

Of course, in a matriarchal structure she would be more directed towards sapphic pursuits. She had explained that Drow men were not upheld to the most flattering light in her society.

"If you had to pick, in our camp-"

"Karlach," No hesitation. "Oh I'd climb her like a tree."

He blinked, an amused smile teasing the edge of his mouth. "Impeccable taste."

"I have been known to have a refined palate." She smirked.

"Honestly I'm curious but I'm just more comfortable with women, I know their bodies. I can navigate them even without eyes." She laughed.

Ah yes, the eyes. Those haunting eyes.

He had overheard her speaking to Wyll about their shared warlock experience. His, to a devil, to defend his city. Hers, to an eldritch being, to achieve the gift of sight. Tried to smother his frown at the easy energy between them, their instinctive bond.

Logically he knew he should feel this same way about Karlach, with her soft puppy eyes following Tav around camp. But he couldn't keep distaste in his heart for her. Not for long anyway. Wyll on the other hand...

Her demonic white eyes peering good naturedly into his now. He didnt know if he'd ever get used to how they pierced him. She savored every sight and while slightly intoxicating it made him squirm to be looked at so thoroughly.

"Well," He smiled. Leaning towards her conspiratorially. "If you're less experienced with men you could always practice..."

While he found himself enjoying her company, quite a lot if he was honest, he was still looking for an in. And here it was. Plopped in his lap, just a shared drink away.

"Oh please," She rolled her eyes. "My pickings out here are slim to none. Unless I get the sudden urge to get horizontal with a goblin."

"What about closer to camp?" Sliding a little nearer to her, his fingers almost touching the inside of her forearm.

"Astarion," She admonished, drawing out her words. "Wasting your advances? My neck is right here." Turned her head to make her point.

While he was distracted by her jumping pulse point he couldn't help the edge of frustration creeping up him.

He had been putting all of his honeyed words on her, all his soft tempting touches, and she would just dance them off with a light laugh.

She was a natural flirt but there was an air to her that she didn't take his advances to heart. Maybe she thought he was just like that with everyone. That it didn't mean anything.

Given that she was devastatingly beautiful he felt even more pressure to stake his claim. Their companions all circling her constantly. Gods she basically had to beat them away with a stick at the tiefling party.

"What if," He started, tracing his finger languidly up her wrist. "You practiced on me? You can touch me like you would a feminine lover, if that helps."

She sat up on elbows, head cocked slightly to the side, staring at him.

It was suddenly very quiet and he tried not to fidget, finger tracing figure eights into her soft flesh.

"And that wouldn't make you feel... uncomfortable?"

Honestly he hadn't thought that far ahead. This was a person he was free to bed on his own terms, of his own will. And he was rather fond of her. Though he was here with ulterior motives, that didnt mean he couldn't enjoy her company. He could do much worse.

"Oh what's a little exploration between friends..." Looked up at her through his lashes. "Or more than friends."

"I mean, if we're exploring I could get out the strap."

He had been mid drink and choked, sputtering as she laughed, patting hard into his back.

"I'm sorry, just teasing."

"I mean... are you offering?"

She crooked a bemused smile at him. "I think we would have to work up to that, Star. Let's see how the night goes first."

After dinner she gathered her bathing supplies, exchanging pleasantries with everyone as she retreated.

Blowing a cheeky kiss to Karlach as she rose. Her fire erupting in a burst, Gale having to dive off of the log they were sharing. A goofy smile all over her face.

He almost felt bad about what he was planning. She would be much more suited to the tiefling.

Well, it's just sex, it won't mean anything beyond each of their gain. Him, allegiance. Her, pleasure.

He walked on light feet, following her dark auburn hair. The gentle lull of her singing. Playing with the tones and words they had helped the bard Alfira stumble through.

"Moon, Sun, All remind me of your grace, Faith, Care, All the love I can't repay~"

Despite her light and playful demeanor her singing voice was full and haunting. A mournful cello calling out into the night.

He understood why Karlach basically begged her to sing for them around the fire when her little talent was discovered. She had waved her away, insisting that it wouldn't be worth their time. She'd much rather hear Halsin play. Then Halsin had urged her on, countering that he would only pluck a few strings if she joined.

"Fine, prepare to be underwhelmed." She had laughed.

Immediately they went quiet as she started, closing her eyes. He noticed she always closed them when she was concentrating, as if the added sense was too much.

They were enraptured listening to her, even Halsin almost stumbling through cords. Her voice spellbinding them all.

"Gods, Soldier. Are you part harpy?" Karlach hushed after she had fallen quiet.

She smiled, clearly embarrassed. A rare sight. She had an easy confidence, getting her flustered was a feat.

Now, he approached her stealthily at the edge of the river. Faced away, already waist deep, wringing water out of her long hair.

"Are you joining or just hoping for a show?" She smirked, glancing at him over her shoulder.

He was about to scoff, how did she always hear him no matter how quiet he moved?

Seeing his annoyed posture, she smiled. "My ears are more attuned than most seeing people, dont take it personally."

"Noted. I would so enjoy sneaking up on you." He pantomimed, crouching down playfully.

"I bet you would, but you'll have to walk on a whisper to get past me." She winked, sinking down into the water to chest high. Turning to face him. Eyes alight with mischief.

It felt so easy with her. Their banter a practiced dance, the steps surefooted.

"So, are you still dreaming of sharing a night of pleasure?" He mused, pushing his hand on his lower back. A wicked smile on his lips.

She lowered further into the water, only eyes now. Staring at him through her lashes, serpentine. One hand emerging, beckoning him with a hooked finger.

He pulled his clothes off in a sensual show, leaving them in a neat pile next to hers.

As he began to wade in her head submerged. The night water too dark to make out her shape.

He stood in false absence in the water, chest high. Senses alight.

Fingers along his waist, exploring. He looked down and saw her murky shape against his torso.

She rose, chest to chest with him. Pushing her hair slick back over her head. So dark it looked black in the dim light.

"Well, well," He intoned, pulling a damp lock behind her shoulder. "Looks like I caught myself a siren."

"You do know what sirens do to beautiful creatures like you, right?" She cocked her head at him, arms coming up to drape over his shoulders.

Their eyes were level with eachother, nearly the same height. She had teased him mercilessly in camp when it was discovered that she was an inch or two taller.

It felt almost too intimate to be directly across from her, their faces mirrored.

"I'd be more worried for your neck than mine, darling." He purred, flashing her a fang baring smirk.

"Oh I dont know," She mused, pressing her body flush to his. "I think deadly things can be good bedfellows, dont you?"

She brushed her lips against his, pulling away teasingly. "You still want to do this little experiment?"

"I'd love nothing more." He snaked his hands around her waist. "Lead on."

At least he didn't have to do the work this time. Could just lay back and go somewhere else.

Some of his thoughts must have betrayed in his face cause she paused.

"Hey, I'm okay to postpone this. Indefinitely if needed." Her voice was uncharacteristically soft then, pulling away from him.

He grabbed her retreating wrist, leading her back into him.

"Tav, I need this." He hushed, the truth. Though maybe not with the intent she imagined.

She paused again. Gods it made him nervous when she got quiet. Her melodic voice usually floating around the air.

"Ground rules." She stated, her eyes serious. Waiting for his response.

He blinked. Honestly he had given his own boundaries very little, if any thought.

"You first." Stalling for time.

"Not okay with being restrained and I'd prefer if we had a safe word."

He nodded, this was new to him but he did appreciate the idea.

Scouring his mind for definite turn offs but found it difficult. He tried to not be present for most of it so it was hard to say with certainty.

"Dont touch my back or the bite. Also not into restraint. Or force."

She smiled and he felt proud that he had passed this little test.

"We can stop at any time, okay?"

"Naturally, darling. Though I doubt I'll be able to resist ravaging you, I'll behave."

"Those lines work on a lot of women, huh?" She teased, fingers trailing his cheek as she pulled closer.

He felt a slight tightness in his chest but gave her an easy smile. "Well you're here now, arent you darling?"

"True." She whispered, leaning in to kiss his jaw gently. "Though I could say I'm here in the spirit of research."

"And you'd be a liar, a terrible one at that."

She breathed a laugh against him. "You always need to get the last word, huh?"

"Oh, I'll ge-" He was muffled by her mouth, pulling him into a slow exploring kiss.

He felt a little moan escape him, much to his horror. The desire in her touch surprising him.

She held him around his waist, cupping the back of his head. Her lips sliding warm against his.

She pulled away and he found himself following her. "The safe word is Bulette."

He nodded, and she lifted under his thighs and wrapped them around her waist. Walking up to the edge of the water.

His dead heart did race a little bit at that but he figured it was just the role reversal.

Though they were the same height she was much stronger than she looked. Muscle hidden under plush thighs and the soft curve of her stomach. He could feel it when he bit into the defined curve of her neck. See it in her shoulders when she lifted her arms over her head. That little adorable whine when she stretched.

She layed him back on the grass, her hands guiding him down.

"If this is how you treat your women I can see why you've taken so many admirers." He teased.

"You know," She smiled, leaning down over him. "You're beautiful enough it's not a far stretch."

He breathed a laugh through his nose.

"So where would you start, lover?" He purred, twisting a lock of her hair as it fell over him.

She hummed, moving down. "Usually here." Leaning into his neck on his unmarked side.

Kissing and nipping at his throat he found himself giving in to the sensation. Head falling back slightly. He never minded the foreplay.

Her mouth was devotional on his neck, licking and pulling heavenly circles.

He found himself humming with approval. Hand carding through her hair. "That is nice, darling."

"Then I'd move here..." her fingers trailing down his chest, brushing tentatively over his nipple. Asking.

He felt a shiver go down his back. Shocked by the little strike of pleasure.

"And then?" He intoned, hearing the slight rasp in his voice. Definitely intentional.

He felt her smile against his throat. Moving down his front, leaving soft kisses as she went. Thumbing over his nipple playfully.

"I would put my leg here." She hushed, pushing her knee between his thighs. "So she could grind."

"Interesting," He tried for suave, failing miserably. Her fingers softly twisting his peak making him slow and stupid.

"This is my favorite part." She looked up at him through her lashes cheekily. Hovering over his chest. "Hold on, love."

He almost scoffed, surely it wasnt-

Her mouth descended on his chest, licking hard slurping circles around his nipple.

His back arched involuntarily, a loud embarrassing groan leaving him.

She moaned in pleasure, her mouth salivating. Gripping his hips.

Gods she was unhinged, tongue pulsing and insistent. Laving up and down his hard peak. Panting hot against him.

If he had more sense he would have been baffled at how much it seemed she was enjoying just his experience. But he felt lost, head heavy with pleasure.

She pushed her thigh further into him encouragingly and he could no longer resist. Already painfully aroused.

He ground down into her thigh gratefully, feeling her tense the muscle for him.

Her other hand came up to pinch and twist at his nipple as she left it, sliding over to his left side and taking up there. The new sensation making him gasp, both sides of his chest being devastated with equal intensity.

She picked up on the rhythm of his hips and pushed her thigh into him in pulses.

Gods her mouth, rolling her tongue and nipping. Suckling down hard then pulling back to lick long stripes up his chest.

How in the hells was he already close?

He gripped her bicep, wrapping his leg around her hip.

Fuck it. Why not?

"I'm-," He panted.

She moaned into him, biting down on his engorged peak. Rising back up.

He almost whined at the lack of sensation until she latched onto his earlobe.

Oh fuck.

His eyes pulled shut. "Oh Gods, don't stop."

She suckled down hard, a little sweet whine directly in his ear. Her hands gripping his ass and pulling him into her harder. His cock throbbing and sliding wet against her.

One last nibbling suck and he was shattered.

Coming in stuttering cries, head thrown back. His pelvis contracting in great vicious jolts, spurting long ropes against her hip. Distantly aware of the sounds coming out of his lips.

"You with me?" She asked gently after a moment, pulling back. Kissing his face in light caresses.

Suddenly aware of his body again he realized his eyes had welled with tears.

"Ah, yes darling." He ruffled, trying to pull himself together with great effort. "I could actually go again."

She looked at him dubiously, a soft but amused smile on her swollen lips.

"I think you're lying." She purred, leaving a tender kiss on his already bruised neck.

He was. But he had a reputation to uphold.

"All out of moves? Dissapointing." He sighed.

"You're cute," She chided, coming back up to pull him into a searing kiss. "Biting off more than you can chew."

"Oh I've barely been sated, sweet thing. I'm starving."

"On your belly then." She whispered into his ear. Patting his thigh playfully.

"Well, wouldn't you like to be tasted?" He asked, confused. Surely she didnt intend to only pursue his pleasure.

"Hmm, maybe another night." She mused, truly seeming to mull it over.

What a strange creature.

"Are all sapphics like this?" He scoffed, letting her hands twist his waist. Hips up, bracing himself on his forearms.

"More than you'd think." She laughed, massaging his hips from behind.

"You know what you're doing back there?" He teased, shooting her a look over his shoulder.

"Hmm, different from what I'm used to. But I think I can translate." She eyed his backside playfully. "But dont hesitate to give me directions."

She leaned down and tongued gingerly at his hole.

His head fell forward, hands in fists.

"Well that's encouragement." She teased, tongue coming back. Moving in tight circles.

"Ah!" He moaned, pushing back into her.

Though he knew she was new to this she moved with practiced precision. He could tell she was very good at what she did on more feminine bodies.

"I heard this is a good spot." She murmured, her two fingers rubbing back and forth against his taint. The shudder that moved through him making her smile.

Tongue coming back to push slow pulsing heaven into him. Both sensations playing him like a fiddle. His fingernails digging into his palm.

Oh Gods it was too good. And still he needed more.

"Inside. One finger." He moaned into his arm.

She wet her finger inside her mouth, tested it in small circles around his entrance. Other hand still stimulating.

She pushed in gradually, pausing one knuckle deep. "Like this?"

"Yes," He panted. "Slowly."

"It feels so similar." She marveled, finger almost to the hilt. "How lovely."

He clenched at her words and heard a delighted giggle. "Even that! Oh!"

"If that's the same, then what about..." She curled her finger toward his navel.

He moaned loudly, buckling down.

"Oh yes," She smiled, beginning slow pulsing thrusts of her hooked finger. Other hand pushing more into his taint. Hitting his prostate from both sides.

A moaning writhing mess beneath her, he was completely gone.

"Oh how pretty, coming undone like this." She purred, leaning down to lick around her pumping fingers.

He knew he was not long for this world, the building pressure in his pelvis about to burst. Reaching around to grip her thigh with a bruising intensity.

"Such a good girl for me." She hummed.

He cried out, his end hitting him so hard he thought he would black out. A deep shuddering ripping through him. His whole world condensed to nearly agonizing waves of pleasure. Tears spilling down his cheeks he bit hard into his forearm. His cock forcing out what little he had left in him.

He collapsed comepletely flat into the ground, the damp earth holding him up.

She left his back momentarily, coming back with a cloth, wet from the river.

She pulled his slack body up to her chest, his back cradled into her. Softly wiping first his brow then working her way down.

"You dont ha-"

"This is part of it, love." She smiled, running her hand through his hair, cajoling it back into place. "You're getting the full experience."

He leaned into her, closing his eyes. Letting her bathe him clean. He knew future him would be screaming into his pillow at this but he was too blissed out to care.

"Thank you," She gave him one final wipe. Setting the cloth down and wrapping her arms loosely around his middle. "For trying this with me. For trusting me."

"You did everything and you're thanking me?" He laughed, still panting. "You're a strange woman, you know."

"If you're so insistent maybe you can do all the work next time." She pinched his side lightly.

Next time. The anxiety in his heart melting just for a moment. Oh thank the Gods.

"If Karlach doesn't beat you to it, that is."

"You're the devil."

She laughed against his back, his eyes getting heavy.

"Let's get you to your bedroll, we'll have a brand new day of bothering eachother tomorrow."

He would never admit it to her, but he was looking forward to it.

Part 2

#post nut clarity is going to hit him like a truck #babygirl you are sooo normal about her #astarion smut #astarion x tav #lyrics from: you know me too well - nothing but thieves

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kiss-me-cill-me · 2 months

Note

i’m not sure if anon has already requested a character for that song but if ur up for it CAN WE HAVE THAT SONG WITH JONATHAN CRANE. also i just listened to that song for the first time in like 3 years and got major deja vu lmao 😭

also ps i love u and ur writing !!!

This is related to another ask from an anon, requesting a fic based off of Katy Perry's song, The One That Got Away. I am so sorry to both of you that it's taken me forever to write this, but thank you for your patience and support <3

Now We Pay The Price | Pt. 1

Pairing: Jonathan Crane x Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: Life hasn't turned out exactly the way you wanted it to. Isolated and distraught as you watch time slip by while you sit, trapped in Arkham, your only wish is to recapture the way that things used to be.

Warnings: Angst, whump, sexual themes but no explicit smut, mental health themes, obsession, unhealthy relationship dynamics, mention of needles, mention of sedatives, unrequited love, established past romantic relationship, ambiguity

A/N: I hardly ever write angst, so please be gentle with me lol. But with the song inspo, I couldn't help but go in that direction. Slightly nervous to post this, but also happy that I've branched out from my comfort zone a bit!

***Please read the warnings before continuing. Minors DNI***

Lying on your stomach, feet in the air, you stretched the thin cotton sheets with your hand. Just enough to give them the tension you needed to glide a ballpoint pen over the fabric, scratching over and over the same mark to make it appear complete. This was far from the perfect medium for doodling - but sheets were what you had, and so they were what you used.

Even the pen was contraband. You knew you weren’t supposed to have it. What anyone thought you’d do with it… honestly, you had no idea. As if you could use a pen for anything other than what you were wrapped up in doing now - carefully and determinedly drawing hearts.

You stopped to rest your head for a moment on the pitifully thin pillow. Across the room, blank white concrete stared back at you. Day in, day out. Endless. The same room with the same walls.

Picking up the pen again, you placed the tip right in between the lobes of one of the many hearts. Scratch, scratch, scratch. A messy, zig-zagging line bisected the doodle.

Broken.

You sighed, and started to color a different heart, filling it with blue ink that didn’t seem very inclined to stick to the bed sheets. It was slow going. The deep azure tint reminded you of deoxygenated blood, like you would see in a textbook diagram. Once the heart was completely filled, you moved dutifully on to the next.

A rustling at your door made you jump. Quickly, you stuffed the pen under your pillow, and turned up the sheets to hide your drawings. It wouldn’t be very good for you if anybody saw them.

You sat up, arranging your rumpled jumpsuit as neatly as you could. Leather straps hung off the sides of your bed, and you spared them a glance, bristling at the memories of having them lashed over your body.

The metal door slid open slowly, until you could finally see…

Him. Your heart skipped a beat and a half as he stepped stiffly into the room, pulling the door shut behind him. He didn’t make a show of locking it, but it was still all too hard to miss the way his hand stopped short at the keyhole, before slipping into his pocket.

“Jonathan. I’m so glad-”

“Don’t call me that,” he bristled. “In here, we don’t know each other. Please. You always forget that.”

“...Dr. Crane,” you corrected yourself.

His tone was so bitter that you could feel it in the very back of your throat, trying to claw its way down to your heart. You swallowed, trying to bite back the taste.

“I’m sorry. I was just happy to see you.” You smiled, pushing through your discomfort, for his sake.

Crane was clearly agitated. He took a few steps into the room, before turning around and facing the door. For one brief moment, you couldn’t see his face, until finally he turned back. His eyes were ice as they stared down at you.

“Do you have any idea how difficult you’ve been making things for me?” he spat.

The accusation hurt, of course. Though you knew very well what he meant. You had been acting out, more than usual, as of late. And although it wasn’t without a purpose, you could see that it was wearing him thin. But… how else were you supposed to see each other?

Arkham Asylum wasn’t exactly known for its model patients. It took a lot to get Dr. Crane’s attention.

“If we spent more time together, I wouldn’t be so difficult,” you replied, trying to keep your tone even.

Crane pinched the bridge of his nose, in that way that you were well acquainted with. He’d always had that habit. Back when you’d first met, you had loved making him get frustrated - just enough for a laugh. Some things never changed.

“You’re really backing me into a corner,” Crane sighed. “And I really wish you wouldn’t.”

“Let’s talk,” you offered, patting the bed. “That’s what you’re here for, right?”

Crane, reluctantly, sat down. You could sense his exhaustion in the way that he almost collapsed onto the bed, hands gripping the edge for support. You inched a bit closer, enough so that your knees touched briefly. Crane pulled away.

You wanted to reach out; put a hand on his shoulder, just like you’d done so many times before. He used to like it when you touched him. Sometimes, you liked to think that yours was the only gentle embrace that he had ever known. Maybe it was silly, but the thought of it always made you feel better.

Now, Crane’s eyes held nothing but menace as he glared over at you, as if you were a stain on the bed sheets. You wondered, vaguely, what had happened to change things.

So much. So much that had led you to this place, where you could be so close to him and yet felt more separated than ever.

“I hate to say it, Doc, but I think I’m going crazy in here,” you joked, trying to lighten the mood.

He barely had a reaction; a deep sigh the only hint that he’d heard what you said at all.

“And why do you think that is?” he asked, finally.

The psychiatrist in him always came through to shove even more distance between you. Like a shield, put up just when you’d started to press through the fog of tension that hung heavy in the room. You swallowed your frustration at being kept out, and tried to answer him honestly.

“Because I barely get to see you,” you replied.

That was the wrong answer, and Crane’s shoulders swung abruptly to face you.

He was scary like this. Almost scary, anyway. If you didn’t know him better, the look in his eyes would have sent you cowering.

But you did know him, so well, and you remembered with sudden clarity that he’d always been bothered by feeling inadequate. You felt awful; you hadn’t meant to imply that he wasn’t doing enough.

“I’m sorry,” you soothed, before he could say anything. “I know that you’re busy, but-”

“But you continue to make yourself into a problem,” he hissed. “You know the only reason you’re in here instead of rotting away over at Blackgate is because of me, right?”

You nodded, too shocked by embarrassment to speak.

“Then for my sake, why don’t you act like it?”

“I’m…” You paused for a moment, sharp tears welling up in your eyes. “I’m just… lost without you,” you whispered. “You know that. I always told you I would be.”

The first tear fell, and you tried to hide your face.

“Don’t cry,” Crane sighed.

You could hear the harsh tinge of annoyance in his voice, and wished that it was anything else. Even his pity would have been better than knowing that your feelings were now nothing but inconvenience. You choked on your own throat, trying to stifle a sob.

“Please don’t cry,” he mumbled, slightly softer this time.

But now that you’d started, you couldn’t make yourself stop. If anything, the tears were only coming faster, and you felt yourself start to shrink into your own chest. The little black pit that always seemed to sit there, now swiftly opening up to swallow you.

With a deep and lingering exhale, Crane pulled you close. Suddenly, you were back where you both had been, so many years ago: one person’s cheek pressed into the other’s shoulder. Tears soaking into fabric that seemed to be stained with sadness. You let out a half-laugh, half-sob, and nestled into the crook of his neck.

“Remember when I used to do this for you?”

Crane stiffened slightly beside you.

“Things have changed since then,” he muttered.

Your memory suddenly flashed back to the first time he had used the words “dysfunctional attachment” to describe you. That had hurt worse than anything else. Even more than all of the other occasions to come, when you’d heard those same words and worse fall from his lips. They could never truly compare to that first time, when your whole world had come crashing abruptly to the ground.

His arm dropped away from you, but you kept your face pressed into his shoulder.

“Things haven’t really changed,” you said. “I still belong to you.”

“You don’t.”

Two words that stung worse than hundreds of needles. You tried to pretend that the wind hadn’t been knocked out of you, as you replied.

“I do. And I will. Always.”

You looked up at him with wet eyes, a trace of the old life that you’d shared together still evident deep within your pupils. Even if only the memories of it lived inside of you, they still lived. They were still something.

“You need to move on,” Crane said flatly. “I know it’s not easy in here, with me…” He sighed. “I did what I could to protect you, but maybe it would have been better if I had just stayed out of your case. Blackgate would have at least given you distance.”

“I don’t want distance,” you whispered. “I just want to be with you.”

“You can’t be.”

Always so stubborn.

“I could be, if you’d help me get out.”

Confusion flashed across Crane’s face, quickly replaced with raw terror.

“Escape Arkham?” His eyebrows furrowed, nearly knitting together. “You can’t be serious. Do you even realize what-?”

“I know, I know,” you hummed. “But just think - we could run away together, just like we always talked about.”

“Stop.”

“Don’t you remember? We promised-”

“Things. Change.�� Crane’s voice almost shook as it thundered.

You brought a hand up to his face, gently coaxing until he looked at you.

“But they don’t have to,” you breathed.

Your eyes drifted down to your wrist, to the space just below your thumb, and over the little tattoo that was etched into your skin. A heart - just like the ones littering your blanket, hidden carefully from Crane’s view.

“Remember when you gave me this?” you asked, holding up the tattoo in front of him.

“No; I remember you doing that to yourself.”

“At first, sure,” you chuckled. “But then, you helped me to finish it, ‘cause-”

“Because I didn’t want you to hurt yourself,” Crane muttered. “Just like you always seem to. Even now.”

You ignored his remark as your hands drifted down to collect one of his pale wrists, then lifted up to your face. The sleeve of his suit jacket slipped back, revealing the spot where once, long ago, you had given him the same mark. Just with a felt-tip pen; he would have never allowed you, even back then, to deface his own body in the same way you had yours.

At the time, the impermanence of it hadn’t seemed to matter. You’d been too distracted; elated by the way that his and your matching blossoms of ink had pressed up against each other as you’d held hands.

Now, you pressed a kiss to the blank space.

“Us against the world, Jonathan. Remember?”

Suddenly, his fingers pressed into your face, digging into the sides of your chin as he forced you back into focus.

“Don’t call me that,” he warned, once again. “How many times do I have to tell you? That life doesn’t exist in here.”

Your hands still dangled from his wrist as he continued to crush your jaw, not letting you look away. But this was the one part of him that you didn’t want to face. The part that didn’t need you anymore.

“Jonathan. You know the reason I’m in here, don’t you?”

“Are you asking if I know about your case? All of the crimes you committed?” he huffed. “Because yes - I was very involved in the trial, and it was nearly impossible to keep everyone else in the dark about…”

Us was the word that he couldn’t bring himself to say.

“That’s not what I mean,” you said. “I mean, do you know why I did those things?”

“Stop - please don’t tell me this again.”

“I did them for you,” you cried, your emotions getting the better of you again. “I do everything for you. So don’t you dare pretend you don’t need me, when really the only fucking reason you’re not stuck in here with me is because I always-”

“Stop.”

Crane’s hands tore away to grab you by the shoulders, wrenching you back to reality. Somehow he always managed to do that. To pull you straight out of the riptide, just as it was about to sweep you away.

“I never asked you to do what you did,” he hissed, articulating each word between clenched teeth.

“But I did it anyway,” you spat. “Because you always get into trouble. Because I told you I’d be there for you, no matter what. And because I always keep promises.”

“I don’t need you to anymore.” Crane’s hands squeezed you uncomfortably. “I don’t - I didn’t need you to ruin your life for me.”

“My life isn’t ruined if it’s for you.”

“Jesus Christ…”

Crane’s hand came up to rake through his hair, but before he could pull away fully, you caught him. Fingers clenched tight to the front of his suit, you pulled back and forced him to fall with you. Your back hit the bed, and Crane scrambled to catch himself before his full weight could slam into you. His body perched just above yours, caging you in his arms.

“This. You must remember this.”

Your words were a whisper, barely loud enough to pass from your lips to his ear, despite how close he was. Your legs frantically came up to tug at his waist, trying to force him closer.

“This was the only time I felt alive,” you continued. “When we were like this. You remember.”

How could he not? You could still live in that moment, if you tried hard enough. As if it had been only yesterday. Both of you nervous and fumbling, nearly falling off of the bed as he hovered over you and you clung to him.

The way that your bodies had melted together, almost desperately, in a way that had made you feel certain that neither one of you would let go. Letting go then had meant something worse than death; it meant a life that dragged on without you and him together.

The stale echoes of passion still rang in your ears as you looked up, silently begging for him to rekindle the spark that had been there.

Crane’s expression was all but impossible to read. His face half-hidden beneath bangs that fell into his eyes. The two-second pause was like a lifetime as you awaited his answer.

“Of course I remember.”

Your heart soared, flying recklessly up.

“But that doesn’t mean it’s the same now.”

Broken. Smashed hard against the cold floor of your cell.

“I don’t believe that,” you breathed. “I can’t. I-”

“You need to,” he interrupted. “Because it’s the truth.”

You stayed stock still on the mattress as Crane briskly pushed himself up, disentangling himself from your limbs. He exhaled as he tugged at his jacket, trying to make himself presentable.

You weren’t sure how he could find the nerve, after ripping your whole world apart.

“I’m upping the dose on your sedatives,” he informed you, still not meeting your gaze. “But I would prefer if you could find it within yourself to behave so that I don’t have to. I don’t like to do this, but-”

“Appearances…” Your voice drifted through the room. “Have to be kept up.”

He had told you as much, probably dozens of times. Just like he’d told you the old life between you no longer mattered, or even existed. If it ever had.

“I’m glad you understand,” he said shortly.

His back was already turned, but you looked up to watch him drift out of the room, quickly pocketing the keys on his way out.

Your head fell back, hard, but the sensation did nothing to ground you. You felt all too lost and adrift; trapped in a situation you had created. This wasn’t how things were supposed to end up.

Your hand drifted silently under the pillow, and wrapped around the barrel of the pen that was still hidden there.

Suddenly, grotesque understanding of all the reasons why no one would want you to have such a thing flooded into your consciousness. The possibilities were many and bleak, but they all led back to the same conclusion. It was just like you had told Crane earlier.

If your life together didn’t exist in this place, then the only solution was to leave.

You smiled. With resolve swirling dangerously inside your veins, you vowed to make sure that nothing like this ever happened again. You were going to be together, no matter what.

There would be no getting away.

This fic now has a Part 2! Read it HERE

#jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane #cillian murphy x reader #angst #LemmyFics

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chososlvts · 11 months

Text

Such a good boy

Choso is a good boy so you reward him.

READ THE TAGS

tw: heavy mommykink, fem!reader, sub!choso, dom!reader, light bdsm, sucking dick.

“Oh Choso, you look so perfect tied up for me like that.”

“Please.. please momm-..” he whined desperately.

From your place in the doorway, it turned you on to have this huge man at your disposal. You knew as well as him that he could break out of his binds whenever he wanted. But he didn’t just to please you.

You stood there just watching him intently, his dick almost turning a violent shade of purple, flopping on his rock hard abs. You hadn’t let him touch himself and you were drinking his needy features in.

“Come on Choso, I want to hear you say it all.” You babbled mindlessly, entranced by his length and girth.

So you can imagine your surprise when you catch him moaning your name, “I- I need you please, touch me..”

You regained your posture quickly, “Aw.. just because you asked nicely, baby.” You cooed.

He whined loudly in reply.

You made your way over to the bed in at least 5 steps, drawing them out longer than they should be. Teasing and edging Choso.

When you finally got there though you had to hold in a gasp. It was… gorgeous, and so up close. His cock was covered in a heavy layer of thick pre-cum, glistening in the illuminated room. The tip was spouting more and more by the second, this must have been killing him.

He wasn’t even looking at you, he was face down staring at your pussy. You were quite stirred by this as you were wearing full clothing, a cute black tank top and ass shorts. You glanced back at Choso, and he was breathing hard, face glistening with sweat. His face was almost as red and angry as his cock. Your pussy fluttered.

“Hey Choso..” you breathed. He looked up at you with adoring eyes.

“Yes ma’am.” He choked.

“You’ve been such a good boy haven’t you?” You praised.

More cum leaked out of his cock, and it twitched violently.

“Mhm— I mean.. yes ma’am.” He whispered, his cock still twitching bad.

“Do you want me to touch it Choso? You want mommy to touch you?” You teased again.

“Ngh- fuck yes mommy- please pl-“ he muttered.

You felt like you could cum straight off his reactions. He wasn’t ashamed at all, and he spread his knees more apart.

“Hey Choso..” you sighed, kneeling at the edge of the bed so you could look up at him.

“Y-yes ma’am?” He answered immediately, looking away from you.

“Hey look at me love.” You said sternly.

He turned his face to look you dead in the eye, eyebrows knitted together and mouth slightly open, panting. He had wisps of his spikey hair hanging all around his head and some sticking to his forehead.

“Since you have been such a good boy I think I might untie you..” you decided.

You smiled as he groaned, spilling a little more pre-cum, eyes shut.

“Come on open those pretty eyes for me love.” You demanded as you stood to climb the bed.

He did as he was told and his low eyes followed your hands as you crawled behind his back to untie the loose knots.

You were so close to him you could hear his hard breaths every second, his body heat radiating off him.

You could tell how hard it was for him to not grab you and murder your cervix with his bulbous tip. That’s why you were going to reward him, since you were so nice to him.

“You have been such a good boy Choso, it seems you need a reward for it.” You told him slyly, focusing on the last knot.

“A reward?” He perked, his heart beating faster.

“Yes baby.” You confirmed as the last knot came undone.

His eyes still followed you as you moved off the bed to kneel down on the floor next to the edge of the bed. You beckoned him with your finger, and he shuffled so quick to his place you almost missed it.

“Someone’s eager..” you teased.

He nodded vigorously and you chuckled lightly.

You started by massaging his large thighs, thinking how your head could be easily crushed between them. Your painfully slow hand worked their way up to the spot he wanted you to touch most.

You stopped just before his large member, looking into his eyes for a reaction.

And he delivered, his head thrown back while his large chest heaved with each breath. He propped himself up on his elbows showing you his stretched, shredded abdomen.

You shook your head a bit, but went on with your work.

“Now baby, I wanna hear those pretty noises alright..” you warned before quickly grabbing onto the base of his cock and lightly squeezing.

“Ye-..yes mommy!” He yelped and his whole body twitched slightly.

You cunt throbbed at his sound.

“That’s it baby.” You cooed, adding your other hand stacked on top of the first.

He groaned loudly.

You started to move, but agonisingly slowly. Up just a little, then down.

“Faster.. heuh, faster.” He whispered, but you caught it barely.

“Did you just tell me to go faster?” You bullied, but secretly you were willing to do anything this man told you.

“No- hu-fuck, no ma’am.” He denied.

“Oh Choso, you know you can tell the truth to me..” you smiled evilly.

“Yes- oh fuuuuc- yes go faster please.” He groaned involuntary snapping his hips up.

“Go faster who?..” one of your hands ventured down and grabbed his strained balls, eliciting a good reaction.

He sucked his teeth in and yelled “Mo-mommy!”, only to whine loudly when you pumped his cock like how he wanted.

“Good boy..” his cock jerked in your hands.

As you worked his cock at a much faster pace, Choso got quite restless and sat up to look down at you.

“Your- you’re so perfect mommy. So perfect jerk- ahh~ jerking me off..” he mumbled mindlessly.

Pre-cum was pooled in your underwear by now.

You decided to take the next step and brought your mouth up to kitten lick the tip and he spasmed hard.

“Oh fuck!- yeah keep licking, please mommy keep licking.” He said his hands finding their way into your braids to hold them back.

Then you really got to it.

Your mouth swallowed him in one go, taking the whole thing.

“Arghh- fuck mmm. Your mouth… it’s so so fucking warm dont stop.” He cried.

You bobbed your head, never fully taking this cock out of your throat, not even for a breath. He was so large your hands kept at his base to satisfy the whole length.

“Yeah fuck- just like that girl. mm you’re so perfect keep going- ahh.” He moaned.

He slowly bucked his hips into your mouth and you took it out just to suck in a deep breath before going back in, not giving Choso even a second to adjust.

“Oh fuck, mommy I think I’m gonna cum. Keep going like that and I think I’m gonna cum mommy.” He muttered.

Well in that case, you thought, then you let his cock go with a pop. Causing him to shake and scrunch your hair tighter.

“Why- fuck- mommy I was so close, ngghh...” He pleaded.

Lmk if y’all want a part2 😜

#baby girl choso #dom!reader #fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen choso #sub!choso #fem!readerdom #anime #mommy k1nk #choso x reader

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nights-at-crystarium · 8 months

Text

You know what, I assume that people always read my pinned, or notice the pointer "new reader? start here" in every new Fragments' episode. I might be deluding myself. So hi hello lemme TALK ABOUT MY COMIC.

Before I get too rambly (and I mean RAMBLY), here's a quick intro. Fragments is a comic focused on feels and slice of life, made by a queer guy, aiming to ~character study~ the main cast (Vivi, Raha, Alisaie, Feo Ul) and fill in the gaps in canon (or linger in canon moments that needed more air imo), the tone ranging from angst to fluff to meme. Good punches require a good windup, so please don't expect angst anytime soon :3c

The story's segmented (fragmented, heh) into episodes. Episodes 1-11 take place in ARR, you can enjoy them with no worry about spoilers. Episode 12 onward is ShB, with all the spoilers and lorebending.

My storytelling style assumes you haven't only played through ShB, but know it like the back of your hand, i.e. it's for nerds and thinkers. Of course there's plenty of silly moments that don't require any deep knowledge, but the overarching story does. Often I skip canon events, only hinting that they took place, simply because I don't wanna retell the msq 1:1, I've got plenty of original scenes waiting to be drawn. You're in for a treat if you like obsessing over emotional and moral implications of things. And, yes, this's a story about a morally grey mc. Don't expect to be spoon-fed "and this's why that thing's bad, kids".

Currently I've outlined all the main story beats up until post EW, so it's like, not being winged as I go. Yes I refine things here and there, but I know where I'm going. I'm going ham!!!! With the lorebending post ShB. Initially I didn't plan to, but the more I learned about Vivi and personally grew as a writer, the more courage I got to "divorce" from canon. The general xiv story may still be good wherever it's headed, but it's not suited for an established wolgraha, so I'm making food for myself.

Everyone imagines the lil scenes from their wol's life, I'm taking that a tiiiiiny step further. Fragments tells a cohesive story that's looking to be the longest project at least in our corner. I can and will hyperfixate on this for years.

I started out just like many others, being hit with ShB like a truck, I wanted to put a catboy under a microscope and rotate him forever. Although I'd already been drawing for decades, I didn't have the comic-making skills yet, or eloquence to write the dialogue, so I spent the first half of 2022 self-studying, just because I needed a mouth to be able to scream about my ship.

Vivi didn't exist prior to my obsession with Exarch. He was made for this, he started out as a reagent (or a foil, now that I know fancy writing terms) for a rich and fun chemistry, and keep myself entertained for years, first and foremost.

Me, a fool: okay let's make a guy that falls in love with Exarch in this particular moment, what kinda life must he have led to- Me: ....oh no

The chemistry quickly bubbled up and exploded in my face, involving not only Exarch, but other characters (first as a means to subtly tell about Vivi, then they also demanded their own screentime), and here I am, sitting with a massive script on my hands, drawing my blorbos every day. Thanks for enabling that btw.

I care about characters a lot. I ask a lot of whys and hows. I'm critical-minded and burned on many bad stories that did their characters dirty, and I wanna be an opposing example. What I'm doing is extremely ambitious and risky, yes, but I can only invite you to tag along and see if I stick to my word.

The internet's a cruel and unforgiving place nowadays, and here I am, pitting my passion against what feels like decaying humanity. I'm making this comic to keep myself happy above all else, being sincere and cringe because life's too short to be anything else.

Thanks for reading this, and if you haven't yet, read Fragments here!

#ffxiv #vivien rell #crystal exarch #g'raha tia #wol x g'raha tia #wolgraha #own: next lvl #fragments talk

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cozage · 7 months

Text

The Daughter's Return Part 3

Chapter 10: Change in Plans

Start From Beginning | Next Chapter | Table of Contents | Read on AO3

Characters: female reader x Portgas D. Ace Word Count: 1.2k

Sanji was the first to approach your unmoving form. He sat in front of you and held out a plate.

“You should eat. Ace told me you needed to eat.”

Ace’s name made you flinch, but other than that you showed no sign of seeing or hearing Sanji. In a sense, you didn’t hear him. Everything felt distorted, like you were underwater or in a dark and echoey cave.

This wasn’t happening to you. It couldn’t happen to you. Ace would be back soon. This was all a big misunderstanding.

“Come on,” Sanji said. “I hate to see you like this, darling. You need to eat. He’s not worth it.”

Tears filled your eyes. “You don’t know anything, Sanji,” you snapped. “So don’t talk about things that you don’t understand.”

He seemed startled that you addressed him, but he took that as a good sign. “Listen, you’re a beautiful lady. You don’t need him, so just-”

“I need him,” you whispered. “I need to find him. I need-” you eyes widened. “His vivre card,” you breathed.

You rushed to your feet and raced to your bag, pulling out a clip of papers.

Whitey, Brew, Dad, Marco, Jinbe, Izou, Curiel, Shanks, Namur, Haruta, Epoida.

You looked again. Whitey, Brew, Dad, Marco, Jinbe, Izou, Curiel, Shanks, Namur, Haruta, Epoida.

No Ace. His card had drawings of hearts all over it. You did it so his card would stand out against the others. It was impossible to miss. But it wasn’t there.

“Luffy!” you called out, clipping the papers back together. “Did Ace give you a piece of paper?”

“A paper?” Luffy asked, staring at you confused.

“A paper.” You held out your other vivre cards as an example. “Like this?”

Luffy stared at your hand long and hard, and then shook his head. “Nope.”

“Luffy.” Panic was rising in you, desperation beginning to spill into and seizing your muscles. “Give me the paper.”

“He didn’t give me one.” Luffy turned away from you, unable to meet your eyes.

You knew he was lying. You could see it written all over his face, which is why he was hiding it from you. But could you fight him for the possibility of getting Ace’s vivre card? You didn’t even know where the card was hidden, and Luffy wouldn’t give that information up, even if you did try to beat it out of him.

Plus, beating up Luffy meant beating up his crew too. Could you fight every Strawhat here? Logistically, it’d be a walk in the park. But you weren’t sure if you could live with yourself. You’d have to convince him.

“I promise I’ll give it back when I’m done with it, Luffy.”

“He only gave me the snail,” Luffy said, his lip sticking out in defiance.

“Please,” you begged. “Ace will die without-”

“Ace won’t die!” Luffy yelled, glaring at you. “Have more faith in him! He has faith in you!”

Your lower lip trembled, and you bit it to keep it steady. Luffy clearly knew nothing. Ace didn’t have any faith in you at all. Or else he wouldn’t have left.

“Luffy!” Sanji screamed back in your defense. “Don’t yell at a lady!”

“You’re yelling at Luffy now!” Zoro yelled.

“Yeah, ‘cuz he’s an idiot, idiot!”

“You won’t find it,” Luffy assured you, ignoring his crew. “I don’t have it.”

You knew he did have it, but you couldn’t bring yourself to take it from him by force. So you walked to Yuba with the crew, hoping that he might change his mind the more you were together.

You didn’t eat. Sanji begged and pleaded with you, but you refused meals. You considered laying down and never moving again, letting your bones get covered by the sand.

“You’re being dramatic,” Luffy finally said, shoving a spoonful of stew in his mouth. “Ace knows what he’s doing. He’s not stupid. And if you’re really actually mad at him, you need to just go punch him. Don’t suffer because you’re mad. That doesn’t make any sense.”

“I can’t find him, Luffy,” you hissed. “That's why I need that piece of paper you have.”

He stuck his lips out again, pouting at your aggression. “I told you I don’t have a paper.”

You rolled your eyes, clearly not believing him.

“Besides,” Luffy added. “Someone else has to have this paper you keep talking about, right? Go ask them!”

You perked up at that thought. All of the subordinate captains had each of the commander’s cards. Which meant Whitey would have Ace’s card. If you could convince her to give you his card, you’d be able to follow it back to him.

“You’re right,” you agreed, reaching for your spoon. You unconsciously ate while you thought, trying to work out the kinks of the plan.

It could work. It would take some time, but Ace had left you all the money. You could probably buy a small, old sloop. If you couldn’t afford one, you’d just steal it and leave the money you had as payment.

You still had Whitey’s vivre card, and you knew she was in Paradise. Brew was as well, if Whitey wasn’t able to help you out. You had plenty of people who had Ace’s card.

And just like the ship, if they wouldn’t give it to you, you’d steal it. You’d find a way back to Ace so you could fight Teach together. Together, with your strategy and his power, you were certain you could do it. You were certain you could win. Your spirits lifted just a little bit, thinking about the possibility of meeting back up with Ace again.

You all only made it about halfway to Nanohana before Luffy demanded they turn around and head back for Rainbase.

But Rainbase would only delay you further, and you didn’t have a moment to waste.

“You guys go,” you said. “I’m going to keep on going to Nanohana and find a ship.”

“Are you sure?” Nami asked. “What if you get lost?”

“I’ll be fine,” you said. “It’s only another day or two, isn’t it? It can’t be that hard.”

“A lady shouldn’t travel alone,” Sanji said. “What if-”

“Sanji,” you laughed. “I could kick anyone’s ass who’s on this island right now. Yours included. I’ll be fine.”

Sanji collapsed backward, overtaken by your words.

“Follow the brightest star in the sky at night, and use the sun as a guide during the day,” Vivi offered, trying to give you a crash course of desert survival. “Nanohana is south-east, so follow the sun in the morning, and keep it to your back in the evening.”

“Ace wanted you to stay with us,” Luffy said. “But if you need to go find him, then you should.”

You gave him a polite smile, trying one last time. “You could give me something that would help speed up the process.”

Luffy deadpanned. “Don’t have it.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing lightly. “Alright, alright.”

You gave them all a deep bow. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. Even when I didn’t want it.”

“It’s nothing!” They all said in unison.

“I’ll see you around, Luffy.”

“See ya!”

And with that, you and the Strawhats went your separate ways.

Tag list! @taeyoge @teiza @tojislawyer @trafalgardnami @bloopbopsblog @dancingnewcat @dxestyi @flooofity @nyxthedragon01 @deadsnothere @h-rhodes1598 @morgyyyyyyy @trafalgardvivi @fiestynatureweeb @frogpogjoghurt @beepboopcowboy @ms-portgas @luvyallbabes @appalost @zuchkaa @saybeyonce @stray-npc @kitsunechan707 @theyluvmesblog @heartysworld @aira-needs-sleep @mothmomjay @ophelias-flowerss @aqualein @sehyojae

#one piece #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #one piece x reader #one piece x you #portgas ace x you #portgas ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #ace x y/n #ace x reader #portgas d ace #portgas d. ace #cozage #✧˚ace✧˚

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lost-walmartbag · 1 year

Text

Prom with Kyle Broflovski

Warnings: N/A

Background: In this one-shot, you and your boyfriend Kyle go to prom together

Status: Request Open

Previous part

Next part

Kyle was Wendy's vice president on the student council. Your prom was coming up but Kyle still hadn't asked you if you wanted to go. You did want to go but you wanted Kyle to ask you as cheesy as it was. You tried dropping hints that you wanted to go but it didn't seem to stick. As every day passed it made you more and more upset to the point where the prom was a week away and you were just flat-out ignoring Kyle. Kyle noticed you were upset but because he was so busy planning the prom he didn't have time to talk to you about it.

One day at lunch you were sitting with the girls while Kyle was across the room with his friends. Clyde stood up on a table drawing everyone's attention to him. He cleared his throat and looked over at Bebe.

"Oh Bebe, sweet Bebe, would you do me the honor, Of being my date to the prom, my lovely flower? I've been hoping and dreaming, for this moment so long, To dance with you all night, to the beat of our song. Your smile, your laugh. your beauty so fair, Make my heart skip a beat, and forget all my care. I promise to treat you like a queen, with love and respect, and make this night unforgettable, a memory to protect. So Bebe, my dear, will you say yes to my plea? And make my prom night, the best it could be." Clyde recited his poem he was clearly nervous and it was a bit cringy but Bebe was beyond happy.

She stood up at rushed to him hugging him tightly. You felt a bit sad as you watched them happily hug and laugh. You look up seeing Kyle staring at you like something finally clicked in his head. You get up and excuse yourself to the bathroom leaving the cafeteria. Kyle followed you out and caught up to you. He grabbed your hand making you turn to him. Before you could get a word in he cut you off.

"I'm so sorry. I should have known what was bothering you. I'm so stupid." He said blushing.

You turn your body entirely to face him and stayed quiet just watching him apologize. He blushed heavier and got on his knees and even though no one was around it was beyond embarrassing.

"Please forgive me.." He said looking up at you and making you hold in a laugh. You couldn't hold it in anymore and just start laughing so hard your stomach hurts. "I'm trying to apologize here," Kyle said clearly embarrassed.

"I'm sorry I'm so sorry." You say in between laughs and try to gain your composer again. "It's ok baby you've been busy and I probably should have just talked to you."

He stands up and kisses your head. "No, I should have known love. So let me make it up to you." He said standing back and looking at you. "Y/N will you go to prom with me?"

You smile and kiss his cheek softly. "Of course love."

After that because Kyle was so busy planning you took charge and handled everything for both of your outfits. You decided on a floor-length silk green dress. You managed to find a place to get your dress and Kyle's tux in such a short time. you got him a basic black tux with a green undershirt with a black bowtie.

You didn't have anyone to go dress shopping with you and because Kyle was so busy you barely were able to get him to try on his tux. His mom caught wind of it and had him take a few hours off of the prom organization to try on his tux. It was fun to be able to see him in his tux and see how much he loved being in it.

The day of the prom was hectic, to say the least. Kyle was late and only had an hour to get ready because of the time he spent setting up for prom before he and Wendy were forced to leave to get ready. You were at his place to get ready as his mom was doing your makeup. So when Kyle burst through the door he didn't even notice you in the living room with his mom.

He ran straight upstairs clearly worried he would be late. You and his mom laughed hearing him running around upstairs in his room. Once you finished getting ready you walked upstairs and entered his room seeing him trying to put on his bowtie.

"Hey, it's ok if we're a bit late." You say walking up to him startling him a bit.

You help him with his bowtie as he looks down at you blushing a bit.

"I just want to make this day perfect for you." He said with a sigh.

"As long as I get my dance with you I'll be happy." You say smiling up at him and ran your fingers through his fluffy hair.

"I'm glad you're here with me." He said hugging you close making you giggle.

"Let's get out of here. And once we get there don't stress out trying to make things perfect. You already did." You say kissing his cheek and leading him downstairs.

Once you both get down there his parents take no less than a million pictures of you two together. Once you two were finally able to get to school you looked around seeing all of Kyle's hard work coming together perfectly.

"Everything is so perfect." You say smiling up at him.

"I tried to put your favorite color everywhere." He said smiling.

You felt so happy being with Kyle just being able to dance with him made all the work you put into the last week worth it. Kyle tried to sneak off to make sure everything was running smoothly but you made sure he couldn't so that he could have fun.

"Ok everyone it is time to announce prom king and queen!" Wendy said drawing everyone's attention.

"I have to get up there to crown the king and queen." He said pulling away and going on stage before you could protest.

"Our queen is.." Wendy said opening the envelope in her hands. "Y/N L/N!"

You let out a gasp as people started clapping and cheering as you walk on stage. Kyle smiles at you clearly not surprised you had won as he places your crown on your head.

"I never nominated myself." You whisper to him. He let out a quiet chuckle and gives you a wink.

"Now time for our prom king," Wendy said opening another envelope. "Kyle Broflovski!"

Kyle looks surprised and looks at you seeing your smirk. You had submitted Kyle's name for King a week prior just as Kyle did yours. You took the crown from his hands and placed it on his head with a smile.

"Now clear the floor for the royal dance," Wendy announced making people leave the floor.

You and Kyle head onto the floor as a salsa dance plays. You groan and smile. "You plan this too?" You ask him causing him to nod and smile as he twirls you and dances with you.

You two salsa dance happily as the crowd of students watches. As the song ends Kyle dips you making a few students clap and cheer. Once the song changed people flood the dance floor. The night was perfect while Kyle was worried about not making everything to your liking, but the minute he saw you in your dress and held your hand it all felt so trivial. He was more than happy to be able to have you by his side while it was all so cheesy it definitely was something he can look back on with a smile.

A/N: Two stories in one day I'm slaying I think. Anyway hope you enjoyed will def try to get more and more stuff out, love yall 🩷

#south park x reader #south park #fanfic #kyle broflovski #kyle broflovski x reader #south park x you #x reader #prom

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toadontoadstool · 10 months

Text

They try to take something and you put it in your bra

Characters: Eren Yaeger, Levi Ackerman, Jean Kirschtein, Armin Arlert, Connie Springer

Warnings: None, but if you don't have breasts or have small ones just pretend for this (☞ ᐛ )☞

Notes: This is the first bit of fan fiction I've ever written (other than some wattpad stories when I was 15 lol) so enjoy and please excuse any mistakes or bad writing. (*´∇`)ﾉ

Also this is a reader insert but y/n isn't used.

Eren Yaeger

You were sitting on the couch just trying to relax and read a book when Eren has to go and ruin your tranquility. He has a small bouncy ball and is throwing it against the wall which is making a very annoying banging noise.

"Can you stop?" You ask your annoyance clear in your voice. "Why, I'm not doing anything wrong." he says nonchalantly. "But you're making a noise and it's distracting me."

He continues to throw the bouncy ball against the wall.

"Could you maybe do that somewhere else?" He stops and pretends to think for a moment. "Nah, this is the perfect wall for bouncing a ball. You can go read somewhere else." You sit up straighter in your chair. "I was here first." You say but he just ignores you.

"Fine then." You stand up and walk over to him. He pauses for a moment looking at you, confused as to what you're doing. When he throws the ball again you catch it and go sit back down. "Hey, give that back." He says trying to take it from you.

"Nope. I asked you nicely to stop or go somewhere else but you insisted on continuing to annoy me." You say as you put the bouncy ball between your breasts and in your bra.

"Unbelievable." Eren rolls his eyes and walks away with a slight blush on his face to go find something else to do.

Levi Ackerman

"Alright, give it here." Levi says holding his hand out for you to give him the button that had fallen off of his shirt. You have no interest in keeping his button but decide to play around with him a little. "No thanks. I think I'm gonna keep it." you say holding the button up and inspecting it pretending that it's an extremely interesting item.

"What? Why on earth would you want to keep it? It's a button, MY button to be exact." He tries to take the button away from you but you quickly dash away and start running circles around his desk with him chasing you. (Yk just like when your older sibling chase's you and you're running for your life)

Eventually he gets tired of your little game and just hops over the desk. You stop dead in your tracks almost having a heart attack.

"Hand it over." he says with an unamused expression. In a moment of panic and with the fact that you don't want to surrender you stick the button between your breasts and safely into your bra.

He lifts up an eyebrow and stares at you in disbelief. "Seriously? That's extremely immature of you." he says looking away as his cheeks are dusted with a slight pink. "I'll just use a spare button." He grumbles going to fix his shirt.

Congratulations! You actually beat him and got to keep his button, which is basically useless to you.

Jean Kirschtein

"Give that to me." Jean says while trying to grab a small piece of paper from you with a horrible looking drawing of him on it.

"No way!" You say running away from him as he chases after you trying to grab it. You giggle as you run away but you get so distracted that you accidentally end up cornering yourself.

You turn around quickly to see Jean looming over you. "Gotcha" he says reaching for the paper and in a moment of quick thinking you shove the drawing down between your breasts. He freezes and stares at you while his face starts turning red.

"Ha, try getting it now!" You say with a proud look on your face. Jean glares at you and turns away mumbling how he's gonna get payback later.

Armin Arlert

It's a rainy day and you're sitting inside bored out of your mind. You see Armin sitting in the corner of the room scribbling something down on a piece of paper. You decide to go see what he's up to since you have nothing better to do.

"Hey Armin, what are you doing?" He jumps a little at your unexpected presence. "Oh nothing. I'm just writing a poem." he says shyly. "Can I read it?" You ask putting your hands together pleadingly. "It's... not really that good." he says rolling his pencil between his fingers.

"Oh come on, it can't be that bad!" You lean over and take the piece of paper from him. "Wait" he says "it's not finished yet" he tries to take it back. "Just let me read what you've done so far." You say holding the paper away from him.

"No, wait, please" he says reaching for the paper again. You quickly put the piece of paper between your boobs and cross your arms. "Why don't you want me to read it?" you pout at him.

Armin freezes up and his face goes as red as a tomatoe. "I- uh uhm..." He looks down at his feet with embarrassment. "I'll let you read it when I'm done. I promise." He looks at you with a pleading look. "Alright" you sigh out while handing him back the piece of paper.

"Thank you." He says and goes back to his corner still a bit flustered.

(The poem he was writing may or may not have been a love poem 😉)

Connie Springer

You were walking in the streets with Connie when he spotted a coin on the floor. "Oh yeah, jackpot!" he happily exclaims as he bends down to grab it when you suddenly swoop in and snatch it off the ground. "Thanks" you say with a cheeky grin. "I spotted it first it's mine!" he says trying to grab the coin from you. "Finders keepers!" you tauntingly say waving the coin around before dashing off with it.

"Exactly I found it!" He yells running after you.

You eventually get tired from all the running that you stop. You're now standing face to face with Connie and it looks like something from one of those cowboy movies. He wiggles his fingers at his sides as you both glare at each other. If this were a movie there would definitely be that classic showdown music playing.

He lunges forward to grab the coin but you dodge him and quickly tuck the coin safely into your bra. "What!? That's not fair!" he yells face heating up from embarrassment. You shrug your shoulders and walk away with a satisfied smirk on your face.

I hope my writing wasn't too bad. My requests are open if you want me to write anything. Also I might make a part 2 to this with other character if it does well. (´^ω^`)

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crazyunsexycool · 11 months

Note

Val! Heya love.

So, for your birthday ask game. I was gonna choose a trope from the office relationship, but it got out of hand when I liked more than 5🥹.

Can we please have something for Steve and Reader, where at SHIELD they’re incredibly close and have feelings for each other?

Lots of sticky notes on laptops, doodles on briefs, texts to one another under the table about coworkers, fixing ties and hair, and maybe sporadic texts about something to do with“work/meetings” when they really just want an excuse to talk to the other?

Sab, darling!!!

A/N: I loved this request so I hope you like what I wrote for it. Also send in all the other request I promise I don’t mind!!

Between sticky notes, meeting rooms and elevators.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warning: pining and fluff, some America puns (I’m so sorry they’re only like two but I couldn’t help myself)

You were late and your boss hated when you were late. It didn’t help that when you finally got to the briefing all eyes were on you when you got to the only available seat.

“Thank you for gracing us with your presence, Ms. Y/L/N. Now we can finally get started.” Your boss announces.

You take a deep breath as you look up to find Steve sitting right across from you. He raised an eyebrow at you and shook his head in mock disappointment. You rolled your eyes and smiled before your eyes landed on the disposable coffee cup in front of you. There was a little smiley face with your name on it in Steve’s handwriting. You mouth a thank you and he winks at you before turning his attention to the front of the room. Those pesky little butterflies that made your stomach their home since the day you met Steve took flight again.

~~~~~~~

“Hey Y/N,” Steve calls out to you as soon as the meeting is over. The sea of people in the hallway parts for him. “So how was your morning?” He smiles, the mischief behind his eyes lets you know he’s just joking.

“It was wonderful. My alarm didn’t go off, traffic was horrible and I had this meeting right at the beginning of the day with the most annoying of my boss.”

You hear someone clear their throat behind you. Steve is already holding his laughter as you turn around with a horrified look on your face. Your boss glares at you for a moment.

“Don’t let your tardiness become a habit Ms. Y/L/N.” he states before walking away.

Steve just gives a long whew as he watches your boss walk away. You cover your face behind the files you’re holding before Steve pulls them away in order to hold them for you.

“Did you know he was standing behind me?” You look up at him with a pout.

“Absolutely not. I would never let you embarrass yourself like that even though it was entertaining.”

You just glare up at him, mostly playfully. He laughs as you both get on the elevator. As others get on you’re pushed back more until you end up back to chest with Steve. His free arm comes up and around your waist to keep you up right. You hope he can’t hear your heart beating faster the longer you stand that close to him.

Once you are on your floor you get out while Steve stays on the elevator. Neither of you would really look at each other so you couldn’t see the pink tint on his cheeks and the sheepish smile that played on his lips.

“I’ll-uh I’ll send those reports to you as soon as I can.” You say.

“I’ll be waiting for them.”

“I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah, see you later.” He says and then the doors close.

*****

Just as you said the reports were ready for Steve. With a pep in your step you go up to his office to drop them off even though there is someone that can do that for you. You frown when you get to your destination as you see that the lights are off. Grabbing a post-it you always carry with you and a pen you write a quick note and leave the file in his drop box.

A few minutes later you get a text.

Steve: Thanks for the vote of confidence.

Attached to his text was a picture of the sticky note. It was a drawing of a stick figure saluting and it says. ‘I know you ameriCAN do it.’

Y/N: You’re welcome. ☺️☺️

Y/N: let me know you make it back safe!

Steve: Always do. 😉

You smile at your phone before putting it away and working on the next set of reports.

~~~~~~

Steve: This guy’s voice is so monotonous that he's making himself fall asleep.

You try to hide your laugh behind a cough while Steve has the nerve to send you a message shushing you.

Y/N: not fair! Don’t make me laugh like that.

Steve: 🤷🏼 it’s true though… don’t look now but I think Linda from accounting is asleep with her eyes open.

You slowly look over and you watch as one of her coworkers nudges her. She starts slightly and then sinks into her chair further.

Y/N: 💀💀 oh maybe you should recruit him for the avengers. He could just give this speech to any bad guy and they’ll turn themselves in just to avoid hearing him anymore.

It was Steve’s turn to huff a laugh and try to cover it by clearing his throat. You were seated in different sections because of your jobs but still managed to be in each other's line of sight. Every time you looked over he would pretend to be nodding off, you shook your head every time before looking away.

****

“I thought that guy would never stop talking.” You say as you meet Steve in the hallway.

“Yeah, that was painful.”

“Oh, here are those analyses you requested.” You hand him a few folders. “Everything is arranged from what I thought would need priority down to low grade issues.”

“Thanks. Here are my completed reports.” He hands you a folder. “Everything is signed, all it needs is your review and it can be filed.”

“Thanks. I guess I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah, see you later.” He smiles at you. That boyish grin that makes your knees weak.

When you get to your desk and open the first folder you laugh. Paperclipped to the first report was a doodle of the speaker from earlier except Steve has made him look like a sloth. You take the doodle out of the folder and place it in the small box you keep all of the doodles Steve gives you.

~~~~~~~~

“Hello?”

“Hey Steve,” you say as you look over some information that he needed. “I have that report you requested but you aren’t in your office.”

“Oh yeah, I was called back to New York for a mission with the avengers.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“No,” he shakes his head even though you can’t see him. “You’re never an interruption. Is everything ok?”

“Yeah I just wanted to know what you wanted me to do with the report , you know, since you’re not here.”

There was a protocol in place for this occasion. You knew that and so did Steve. Still neither of you could wipe those dopey grins on your faces as you spoke to each other.

“Why don’t you hold on to them and I’ll get them once I get back?”

“That works.” There’s a small silence before you break it. “Well I’ll leave you to it. Please-“

“I don’t have to hang up yet. I mean if you have time, we can talk.”

“I’d like that.”

“Have I missed anything in the office since I left?” He asks as he sits back in his bed at the tower.

“You mean in the three hours since you left?”

“Yup.”

“Of course you did. Now you didn’t hear it from me, but rumor is that Linda from accounting is having an affair.”

“No!”

“Yes. And you’ll never guess with who?”

“Who?” Steve asks excitedly.

“Sloth man.”

“There’s no way.”

“It’s only what I’ve heard, it hasn’t been confirmed.”

“I wonder what she sees in him.”

“A good night's sleep.” You murmur.

Steve throws his head back and laughs. Once he calms down he starts giving you theories about the supposed rumor. Then the conversation turns into other topics. Before you know it you’ve been on the phone for at least two hours when he needs to leave.

“Please be safe.”

“I will. See you in a day or so.” Steve says before hanging up.

~~~~~~~~~

The day had dragged on. Maybe it was because you didn’t have much work for the day. But you had a sneaking suspicion that it had to do with a certain blond haired, blue-eyed super soldier not being around.

It wasn’t until late in the evening and you were working extra hours that you received a very long overdue break. There’s a little knock at the end of your desk. You push yourself a little bit to turn your chair around. Words die on your tongue when you see a bruised up Steve standing there.

“Oh my god what happened?” You raise your hand to lightly touch a bruise on his cheek.

He wraps his fingers around your wrist and you immediately realize how inappropriate it is. When you go to pull your hand away he doesn’t let you. His thumb is drawing a lazy circle on your wrist as he brings both your hands down.

“Just some bad guys. Nothing I couldn’t handle. Why are you still here?”

“I think my boss is still mad that I called him annoying and I’m stuck doing more paperwork.” You shrug your shoulders.

“Well I hope you haven’t had dinner yet.”

“Nope.”

“Good.” He smiles at you and then pulls a bag from behind his back. “Because I brought your favorite.”

“My hero.” You beam before turning and clearing a spot on your desk. Steve places the bag down and pulls a chair from an empty desk and sits down with a bit of a grunt. “So spill it.” You motion to him.

“Just a mission.”

“I need a play by play. Come on please. I read all of your reports, they’re basically a book at this point and I need the next chapter.”

He huffed a laugh. “Fine. But it’s rather boring.”

“You could never bore me.”

“Could I get that in writing? I’d like to have proof for Tony.”

“Sure, I’ll even have it notarized.”

He laughs again and shakes his head. Then he starts talking about the mission. You could sit there listening to Steve talk about anything. After he finished that story you moved on to other topics, work now long forgotten.

~~~~~~~

As much as you hated it, Shield was requiring a certain number of their employees from each department to attend a gala. Because your boss still had it out for you, you were selected to attend.

You were fiddling with the necklace you’d paired with your dress as you walked through the already crowded venue. Someone grabs you by your forearm and pulls you into an empty hallway while you try to throw a punch.

“Woah calm down, it’s just me.” Steve said as he let go of you.

“Why would you grab me like that?”

“I’m sorry I just didn’t want anyone to realize I was here. Please don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad, it’s just I thought I was being kidnapped.” You frown a bit.

“I’d never let that happen.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks, you knew he meant it as a friend but sometimes you wish it was more than that.

“Is everything ok?”

“Honestly, I’m kind of nervous.”

“You are nervous? Why?” You ask incredulously.

“This function is for World War Two vets. I don’t know it’s not the same as if I was dealing with someone that didn’t fight in it. They ask questions and I can play it down a bit but with the vets… It makes me feel exposed.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“I have to give a speech. If I find you a seat closer to the stage would you take it?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you .”

“Don’t mention it.”

His large hand takes yours and he pulls you down the hall with the intention of leading you to the seat he mentioned. You tug on his hand so that he stops and turns to you. Pulling him a bit closer you reach up and fix the bow tie. Then your hands instinctively run across his shoulders and down his chest in order to smooth out his tux. He smiles at you then. His eyes light up when he sees you return it. The moment is far too intimate for two friends to be sharing but it feels right nonetheless.

Steve graciously walks you to an open seat and heads to the stage. Just like you knew it would, the speech was a success. Still every once in a while he’d look down at you and you’d return an encouraging smile.

****

“May I have this dance?” Steve had his hand stretched out in front of you.

“Why yes you may.”

You place your smaller hand in his and he leads you to the dance floor. Steve places one hand on your waist and the other takes your hand. As a slow song starts playing he begins to lead, the scent of his cologne is intoxicating in the best ways.

“I thought you didn’t dance.”

“Only with the right partner. Besides, Sam bet that I wouldn’t dance with the most beautiful woman here. I had to prove him wrong.” He says just as he turns both of you and Sam comes into your line of sight, raising a glass of champagne and smiling.

“Steve…”

“You don’t have to say anything. I just thought it was time I told you how I really felt. It’s ok if you don’t feel the same but I learned my lesson the hard way.” He spins you around and pulls you back in. “I like you as more than just friends. Seeing you makes my day, I can literally be having the worst day and you make it better. If it weren’t for you working at Shield would have been a nightmare. You saw me for more than just Captain America and I don’t think you realize what that means to me. It’s never bothered you to have to do things differently or having to spend time teaching me something because I just don’t know about all of the new technology. Most importantly you don’t mock me for it, you accept me as I am. And I’m so grateful you’re in my life.”

Steve dips you and as he pulls you back up all you can do is stare up at him with wide eyes. He smiles fondly at you as he takes your hand and presses a kiss to your knuckles.

“I have to go on a mission. But would you be willing to talk about this some more when I get back?”

You just nod, all words had escaped you at the moment. How were you supposed to respond? You adored Steve but never in a million years did you think it was reciprocated. Steve leans down and kisses your cheek before walking towards Sam. Then you watch as they both walk out. By the time you leave the gala you’re still reeling and trying to figure out how to respond.

~~~~~~~~~

Steve didn’t get back until Tuesday. It had been four days since the gala and since he told you how he felt. He was supposed to be back today. You knew for a fact he was because some of the people on your team had mentioned seeing him. Without being able to take much more you rush to the elevator and press the button for his floor.

Everyone around you rushes out but you are glued to your spot. Standing at the doors is Steve, looking as handsome as ever. His eyes light up when he sees you even though there’s a really bad bruise on his cheek and it’s obvious the mission was worse than expected. Still he steps into the elevator and no one dares walk in, leaving the two of you alone. The elevator starts to ascend but Steve pushes the stop button.

“Hi.” You manage to squeak out.

“Hi, I am free tonight by the way.”

“Oh, good.” You say as you try to hide your smile.

“But another America joke really?” He holds up the post-it note you had placed inside a folder for him to find.

It simply reads: on a scale of one to America, how free are you tonight? With a few stars drawn around it.

“You are Captain America, I have to use that to my advantage.” You giggle at his fake huff of annoyance. “Since you’re a superhero does that mean you’re super free tonight?”

Steve genuinely laughs this time before he turns to you. He finds that you’re already looking up at him with a soft smile.

“You’re lucky you’re so cute.”

“Oh so you think I’m cute.”

“Yup.” He takes a step towards you, forcing you against the wall. His hands rest on the small handrail, effectively caging you in.

“How cute would I have to be to get you to kiss me?”

“I think you’re there already.” Steve says before his lips are on yours.

It was better than what you had imagined. His lips were soft, the kiss was sweet. Unfortunately it was short lived.

“If you two are done holding up the elevator, I’d really appreciate seeing Captain Rogers in my office. Now.” Director Fury’s voice came through the speaker and you pulled away quickly.

You giggled at the fact that you had been caught. The butterflies in your belly were in full flight as Steve smiled at you. When the elevator came to a stop he pressed a kiss to your cheek and stepped out.

“I’ll see you tonight.” You smile at him as the doors close. A few seconds later you get a text.

Steve: It's a date. 😉

#you’ve got mail 💌#val answers #val’s birthday celebration #val’s 1000 follower celebration #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers fanfic #Steve Rogers x reader #steve rogers imagines #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x fem!reader #steve rogers x y/n #captain america x reader #captain america #sab 🐉

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silversiren1101 · 3 months

Text

At The End - OCKiss24 Salvadore x Minovae

I managed to find time to actually participate in a writing event! We can thank my new ADHD meds for that I'm sure. Anyway, this first is featuring my Minovae and @dmagedgoods Salvadore, who I have long cherished their relationship as much as it's fascinated me. They're what could have been and what could never be. I'm so happy with how this came out - please know I cried multiple times while writing it!

Violet eyes looked out over the city below and beyond the marble balustrade. Smoke rose from nearly every main plaza and thoroughfare, and even what seemed to be the most innocuous of alleyways as well as the highest parapets. For the first in some many decades, nay, a century, even, there was no cause for alarm from this. It wasn’t demons ravaging the last line of defense in this nation that both was and wasn’t, but now could be. The war hadn’t reached here, Nerosyan, the capital, because the war was over.

The Knight Commander had done it. Knight Commander Salvadore had closed the Worldwound. Where no other could, and it hadn’t been for lack of trying, but for all so much bloodsoaked and desperate failure, the war had finally ended.

And by a poncy, arrogant noble with a stick up his ass to rival even Iomedae’s.

Miracles, it seemed, weren’t in so short supply as the name of this age had made it seem.

Minovae sighed deeply looking out over the city with its night sky filled with smoke for the first time not from war but from celebration, her tail listlessly hanging off the edge between the balusters. Bonfires beat back the darkness, and she realized then that the smell and sight was what was making her stomach clench and eyes rimmed with wet. How much like home it was, poor battered and stripped Westcrown, whose nightly pyres weren’t out of any cause for celebration but to beat back the shadow-beasts that stalked her streets once the sun set and feared the light.

A home she knew she’d never see again.

The ache in her mind from Thrune’s brand told her as much. She’d never make it as far as Westcrown once she crossed the border of homeland. They’d take her back to Egorian, where the beginning of this end began, and they’d put the loose end that she was to close once and for all. It was coming. Soon. She knew it was. They might even be ready to disappear her as soon as she stepped from Nerosyan’s walls.

The thought only reinforced that emptiness that pervaded her. She had nothing left to fight for, anyway. Even more, she’d fought alongside heroes. She’d helped do the impossible. The Crusades were over, and she’d played no small part in it. Even the fact she wore this evening not her armor, its weight heavy and familiar comfort, but finery, felt strange. So much of her existence had been defined by steel and blood and blade and shield, and now it was drawing to a close not in the middle of a craggy field that smelled of iron, but on the night of celebration, in a gala hosted by literal royalty.

The liquor in her glass burned comfortingly as she took another sip. ‘As strong as you have’, she’d told the man, who’d grinned and reached under the bar for something so old and dusty she hadn’t been able to catch the label. It did the trick, vapors stinging her nose and warming her throat and gut better than anything she’d had in years, and she reminded herself to thank him before she left for the night.

“Ah, here you are.”

She would have started had her senses not been dulled by drink—truthfully, this was her fifth glass. The clink of the ice as she’d knocked it back had disguised his footsteps, she surmised. He had no reason to sneak up on her tonight, and he walked with all the confidence and bravado his station and title presumed on his behalf at nearly all times.

“Here I am…”, she flicked her gaze to the corner as he came to the balcony balustrade, leaning against it, mindful of her tail where it trailed across the marble. Those icy blues locked onto hers and held that gaze firm. She might have thought it a challenge, or some type of implied order as he was oft to give, had his lips not been lightly tugged ever so upwards at their corners into a smile that was, by all accounts, warm. She stared at those lips perhaps a moment too long, before continuing. “Though I’m not sure it is really you, Sal, with such an expression on that face.”

He took no offense to the diminutive of his name. Not with her, at least. But she did note the quirk in his brow; inquisitive.

“My dear, it is a night for celebration, if you have not noticed.

“And so even the great Salvadore can afford himself a smile? I see”, she smirked.

It felt bitter. Even as happy as she truly was for him, for all of them, the emptiness of her future had tainted this night before it had even began. She quickly returned her gaze to the bottom of the glass cradled between her fingers, dangling over the edge of open air above the city below.

A heavy beat of silence passed. She knew without meeting that gaze again that he was aware something was weighing on her. He was one of the few she’d ever met that matched her ability to read nearly anyone, no matter how inscrutable.

“You should go back inside, you know. It is a night for celebration, after all”, she used his own words, hoping it would rub him wrong enough to just make him leave. “I’m sure they’ll be wondering where the man of the evening is.”

But, she knew the copious drink had taken her off her game tonight. Normally she could handle him as she did other nobles, though certainly not lightly–he’d ever been one of her most difficult rivals. Even admitting as such had rankled her, but now, here, she could only think of the term fondly. She internally cursed the sweet heat cloying her thoughts.

“Without you? Without whom this would not be possible? No, my dear, your absence has been noticeable enough. You have spent enough time endearing the night air with your appearance, when it would be much better spent on the unworthy eyes back inside.”

She snorted at that. Shook her head. “Are you saying I look nice?”

“Is that such a surprise? You look beautiful. It is a crime that the first time I have seen you in a dress, you’ve spent most of it hiding away.”

It was true. She’d been present for the opening ceremonies, of course. She’d even started the night just as lively and bright as nearly everyone else, dancing one or two waltzes with their friends—then, someone had asked her what she would do next, after all this was done.

And the brand seared into her mind had started to ache.

She swallowed down a sigh, not wanting him to hear. Her tail, heavy, almost languidly, pulled itself back up from the plummet she wanted to take before them and instead squished the air like shoulders would a shrug.

“You could have always ordered me into a dress, if you were so desperate to see it.”

“It would not have looked half as radiant on you than one donned willingly. I can see there was truth to your stories. Any lesser man in there would crumple before you, if you had your heart set on crushing theirs.”

Had he always been this funny, she wondered. No, it was the alcohol working in his favor. Still, she chuckled. Heat licked to the skin beneath her scaled cheeks. She knew she must’ve looked much like a watermelon then–those green-tinted opals sitting in a sea of red.

“Alright, alright. Need I tattle to Daeran with how much you’re trying to butter me up?”

It was an empty threat and joke, they both knew. The only thing Daeran would be mad at was that he was not here to see and hear this for himself.

“When I left, he was last doing what I expected you to be doing all evening. Dancing the night away, breaking those hearts with each hand he trades for another.”

“I’m glad he’s enjoying himself. It’s just… louder in there than I remember…”, she answered wistfully. “I’m not used to being around so many people again. At least, not in a war camp… without my armor.”

He knew all about her past navigating through galas and parties much like these. She’d told him as such, how she used to stalk her prey on their own grounds, playing their own game; the Hellknight who’d eschew her armor for a dress and weapon for an invitation to dance, luring the guilty in with honey only to bring them to the guillotine all the same.

She only hoped he’d accept the excuse. Just telling him the truth would kill her. Him, possibly, too. Literally. The last thing she wanted on her record before she went to the Boneyard was taking down the angelic hero who’d ended the Crusades in a blackened, infernal blaze of her brand detonating.

“It has quieted some. The wine has seen to that, and most have had their choices in dance.”

She hummed. “Then surely my presence isn’t that missed.”

“On the contrary”—a shift of movement caught her attention. She looked back up from her glass toward him once more, and found a hand, fingers lightly curled upward, extended in invitation towards her.

“This entire Crusade, you have bragged about your prowess on the dance floor and told me of your greatest triumphs taking down ‘arrogant blowhard fops of my caliber,’”—she felt a rush of even hotter flame to her cheeks and a rattle shook her tail as he’d remembered one of the rants she’d gone on after particularly pissing her off—“, and yet, I have yet to see it for myself. I insist: would you have but a single dance with me, Lady Minovae?”

She stared. First, at his hand, those tan fingers extended invitingly. By all accounts they should be as rough and calloused as hers, and yet they looked untouched by the horrors of the war they’d both fought through, side by side. His nails were perfectly cut and filed, and shone beneath the moonlight. Hells, she swore there was a light glow emanating from it, but she had no idea if it was just from how bright the moon was, or because of the angelic power coursing through him. It looked warm, despite him being a dhampir.

And then her gaze shifted upward, to the rest of him. His blue eyes had narrowed, warm, inviting, despite how piercingly cold their color was. She noticed then that the night had gotten to his usual perfectly manicured and groomed self. Some hairs had fallen from his typical neat style, wayward curls—curls!—teasing his forehead and giving him an almost roguish appeal that made her breath catch. For once, he looked real. He looked mortal. At this, his highest point in power, literally touched by the Heavens and the Abyss alike, Salvadore looked more like a living, breathing, touchable person than at any other point in which she’d known him. He didn’t rise in her that distrust and disgust that normally appeared when she lay eyes upon a noble, even with him dressed in the brightest white and gold finery she’d ever seen.

He looked…

Warm. Handsome. Inviting. Mortal. An ally. A friend. Something more. Her breath caught for a moment. She found herself staring at his lips again, sitting above his chiseled chin and jawline. Had they always looked so… soft? He was doing that soft smile again, confident and controlled, but welcoming. The kind that made you let down your guard, of which the whiskey clouding her thoughts certainly wasn’t helping.

“A good kisser?”, she snorted derisively. “I didn’t know they taught you how to kiss in noble school. I certainly don’t know where else you would’ve learned given how insufferable you are. Unless that mysterious ‘mentor’ of yours taught you that, too.”

Salvadore only made a low noise in the back of his throat, confident and knowing. The look he shot her was much the same. “You are welcome to a demonstration, if you need the proof, my lady knight, Arangeir.”

Her boisterous laugh was all the answer he needed: never in a million years.

She remembered the moment in a sudden flash like it was yesterday. She couldn’t even remember what had triggered that conversation, but she certainly remembered the tease and invitation now. It hadn’t been a million years, but she wouldn’t get a million years. Sal might. He and Daeran together. But she wouldn’t. She might not even get a week. Daeran would forgive her for this, she knew… and well, if he didn’t, she supposed she wouldn’t be around long to suffer it.

“…A dance?”, she licked her lips, suddenly feeling overly warm, overly flushed. Her dress exposed much of her back and shoulders, letting her feathers and scales breathe , and only went to about her mid-thigh regardless. Still, she felt hot. She felt stupid, too, but did it matter? “You can have your dance, if I can have something in return.”

That piqued his curiosity. Salvadore drew his hand back slightly, if only because he’d straightened his posture. His head tilted, and a brow raised. Something glinted in his eye. Concern? She didn’t care.

“Do you remember months ago… You claimed to be a good kisser. I didn’t believe you. What if I told you I still don’t?”

Her pulse was racing now. She could feel it thud-thud-thudding in her chest. It got even worse as realization dawned upon him.

She half expected a slap; he was a taken man now, after all. He might have even just turned around and gone back inside, which, fine. For the moment, though, he only stared at her. She could tell he was trying to decipher why she was asking for this now, why in the Hells now? Could she blame him? Of course not, he had no idea the severity of the truth, of just how little time she had left to do what she wanted and be a little crazy before everything ended.

What she didn’t expect was for those fingers to return. Closer. Curled under her chin.

She gasped lightly, hotly, as Salvadore clasped her jaw. Those hands were cold, as she thought, but the feel of that icy chill across her flushed skin felt almost like healing magic dancing across wounds, knitting them closed.

Her tail vibrated anxiously, filled with so much energy where it had lain dead before. She could feel her feathers rising from neck to tail tip, fluffing up in that way that made her look like an alarmed cat.

Their eyes held each others’, and his additionally held a question.

Now or never.

“You promised a demonstration”, she merely answered.

He needed no other reassurance.

Their height difference made it more difficult than it should have been, but Salvadore had been only truthful in his claims. He knew exactly what to do.

A hand pressed to the flat of her back, directly over the strip of feathers running down her spine and scales surrounding them—now running icily themselves trying to cool her down. She briefly wondered if he even noticed with the chill in his own hands, but let it drift away as soon as it had come. He pressed her close and up, bidding her to her toes as he himself confidently arched downward.

Soft. They were soft. How funny it was, she thought, that such iron and coldness could come from those lips only for them to be so damn soft. Softer than hers. Theirs pressed against the other, and her eyes slipped closed upon the gentle impact. She mapped them in the darkness behind her eyelids, each and every crease, the cupid’s bow, the feel of his breath across her face.

When had she last been kissed? She didn’t remember. Wetness rimmed her eyes again. She didn’t even love him. Love had escaped her at every turn, snatched away always and viciously by circumstance. All she could think of was the emptiness, of what hadn’t been and what she’d never had. His lips right then, for only this brief moment, were filling that yawning void. It was a piece that didn’t fit in this puzzle. Not perfectly. But for a moment, it was filled.

Then pressing. Then prodding. Further still, he took it, and she went rigid in shock before melting as his tongue breached what should have been where this had ended. It brought with it the taste of wine, luxurious and more opulent than any her salary would have spared. Something in her found it funny that for as much as she’d always tormented him about her dislike of fine wines, he’d still found a way to share a glass with her.

At the end. Of everything.

#oc: minovae arangeir #oc: Salvadore #ockiss24 #MANY TEARS were shed writing this #obv this is one of the darker timelines I could see Mino falling into - but is it truly too late?#I think he could still free her and save her future but time is short #where is regill in this? she didn't become more to him in this timeline - with her companion quest unresolved he wasn't pushed towards her #the loneliest and most doomed Mino is a selfish and reckless Mino who realizes she has nothing left to lose

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kay-elle-cee · 6 months

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@jilytoberfest 31 Prompts: Day 31 || 1733 Words || Read on Ao3 A/N: I would like to state for the record that I know trick-or-treating wasn’t a thing in the UK in the early '80s but please just suspend your disbelief I’m BEGGING you. This is already going canon-divergent so let’s pretend trick-or-treating exists, cool thanks.

Additionally a quick little thank you for joining me on this ride <3 I've read every tag and comment and I'm so grateful for all the love for this fic! Keep an eye out for a masterpost with all these linked, and please feel free to drop into my ask box and let me know if you had any favorites! —

Three raps on the door and James opens it wide, only to find himself immediately arrested by the sight of the beautiful woman in front of him. Her auburn hair is swept over her right shoulder, a pointed witch’s hat sitting tall atop it as brilliant green eyes flicker between him and a small boy that sits on her hip. The boy is smiling, a disheveled mess of black hair poking out from under a little green hat—the stem to the soft orange pumpkin costume his little arms and legs stick through.

“Trick or treat,” the woman smiles at James, and his lips immediately pull into a grin, even as her eyes once again travel to the small boy on her hip. “Can you say ‘trick or treat’, Harry?”

Harry rocks his weight against his mother’s side, bouncing with excitement as his eyes (green, like hers) sparkle at James. “Dada! Dada!” he babbles, arms outstretched, and James reaches out to take his son with a gentle smile, settling on his hip.

“It was a long shot,” Lily sighs with a weak shrug, taking a few steps forward and nestling herself beneath James’ other outstretched arm—his whole world now within his grasp. “We’ll just have to try again next year.”

“Well if it helps,” he places a kiss on her head, “you two were my favorite visitors of the night.” Nevermind the ‘only’ that lingers in the air—the heavy weight of isolation that sits, strapped around their necks, trying its damndest to drag them further into despair every day for the last ten months.

But not tonight—not on Halloween, when they can coo over their son and his excitement, when they can enjoy the fact that they can spend another holiday together as a family (especially when the alternative is too gut-wrenching to consider). James places a firmer, longer kiss on his wife’s head as the thought flickers across his mind. Not tonight.

The pop of apparition on the other side of their wards sends his nerves on high alert. Exchanging a quick, loaded glance, Lily takes Harry inside with a protective arm around him as James reaches for his wand.

It’s not there.

He follows behind Lily in a hurry, mind racing at who could be visiting—they didn’t have any planned visits and everyone knows better than to show up unannounced.

“James—”

Lily’s eyes are wide and fearful when his attention snaps to her, misplaced wand securely in his hand once more. Harry’s started to fuss—the moods of his parents alerting him to something wrong, and she’s got both of her hands holding him securely to her chest, rocking back and forth.

“It’ll be fine, Lil.”

It’s an empty promise, but one he has to make. For his sanity, for his family, he has to make it.

Silently casting a Shield, he approaches the door just as frantic beating disrupts the silence of the house.

“Prongs! Lily!”

James’ shoulders stiffen. It’s Sirius. Or rather—it sounds like Sirius.

Sirius, who had insisted on not visiting too often so as to not draw suspicion. Sirius, who had shockingly adhered to a pre-planned visit only rule. Sirius, who’s now here, unexpectedly.

“Please, please open the door or I’ll open it myself!”

Sparing a quick glance to Lily over his shoulder, James holds his wand up to the door.

“What did you say to me the day Harry was born?”

“Oh thank Merlin,” he hears with a final thunk against the wood. “I told you that it seemed unfair for Lily to do all the hard work only for him to come out looking like a shrunken duplicate of you.” James’ shoulders relax the smallest fraction at the correct answer. “Now, let me in immediately. We don’t have time. Wormtail’s been compromised. You aren’t safe here.”

The blood in his veins turns to ice, the sounds of the world dropping away as a ringing intensifies, mixed only with the sensation of his heart pounding painfully in his throat.

Wormtail’s been compromised.

“—should’ve never listened to me. Fuck, but we’ve fixed it, okay?”

“James.” The croak of Lily’s voice is what pulls him out of his stupor, more than Sirius’ ramblings through the door, more than the pounding of his heart. Lily. Harry. Wormtail’s been compromised. “James, love, open the door.”

His muscles act of their own accord as he twists the handle and he’s nearly barrelled over by Sirius’ determined strides as the door flings open and the man walks in, long hair wild and unusual panic in his gaze. Grey eyes fall on Lily and Harry and James sees the sigh of relief expelled in the rise and fall of Sirius’ chest before he snaps into movement and slams the door shut.

“What do you mean ‘compromised’?” Lily whispers, eyes shimmering with terror.

Sirius shakes his head quickly. “I can’t get into the specifics right now but I went to check on him and he was just gone. No struggle, nothing.” His wild eyes turn back to James, who's still standing by the front door, wand clutched tightly in his hand. “Something feels off. Bad off. Fawley came with me as a lookout and I immediately had her help setting up a new Fidelius on my flat—she and Graham had done it for their parents at the beginning of all of this.” He runs a hand over his face, and when the hand is gone, the eyes that meet James’ are determined and tinged with fury. “We need to get you there now.”

Head still reeling from all this news, James nods, motioning for Lily and Harry as he walks over to the fireplace—Disapparating from inside their wards is impossible.

“James—” Lily’s hand grabs his wrist in a death grip, and he cuts her off with a swift, firm kiss, hand smoothing down the red hair on the crown of her head, the black witch’s hat discarded at some point in the excitement.

“Take Harry and go, we’re right behind you.”

“32 Longmoore Street, Lily. The Floo is open.”

With a resolute nod and a clenched jaw, Lily carefully steps into the Floo, green powder spilling to her feet as her hold on Harry tightens and she calls out Sirius’ address. James’ attention is fixed on her, watching as she and Harry disappear to safety in a swell of green flames right as a red beam of light jets through the window, shattering the glass and knocking Sirius off his feet.

Wormtail’s been compromised.

Without hesitation and with everything in him, James throws up another Shield Charm as he drops to crouch low, slinging Sirius’ arm around his neck and firing off a stunner into the darkness outside his window before dragging the two of them to the fireplace.

He knocks the little bowl of floo powder to the ground and scrapes as much as he can into shaking hands as curses continue to fly at the shield. The last one—some sort of dark purple spell that he’s seen on the battlefield once or twice, shatters the shield and the front wall of the cottage, dousing the room in drywall and debris.

Heart lurching in throat, James slams Sirius into the back of the Floo, dropping the green powder as he hurls himself into the flames as well, arm tightening around the unconscious man.

“32 Longmoore Street,” James states as loud as he dares with a trembling voice. The green flames dance around him, higher and higher until it obscures his vision and the floor drops out beneath him—a bone-white wand in a pale hand the last image he sees of their home.

Squeezing his eyes tight, hand clutching his wand and shoulder supporting Sirius’ limp figure, he tumbles out of the grate moments later, knees buckling as the two of them slam to the floor. A hand is on him in an instant and his ears reattune to the sound of Lily’s sobs as she checks him for injuries, Harry crying from his spot on her hip.

“—been holding my breath, I felt sick seeing you disappear, oh my god, James what do we—Sirius!”

With a groan, James sits up, clasping Lily’s free hand with his in an effort to provide some reassurance (for who, his brain is too adrenaline-addled to answer honestly). He brings the back of her hand to his lips, holding it there even as his eyes remain focused on Sirius’ limp form on the rug while he pulls out his wand. Placing the tip to the other man’s chest, he murmurs a shaky ‘Rennervate’, his breath of relief fanning across Lily’s skin as Sirius stirs at the spell, teeth clenching as he pushes himself up.

James shifts so that he can now fully wrap himself around Lily and Harry, his arms holding them close as the shock and terror of the past few minutes begins to settle over him. Wormtail’s been compromised.

His thumb lightly rubs soothing circles on Lily’s arm and he gives Harry a kiss on the head before looking over at Sirius, his throat constricting. “Peter…”

At the name, Sirius’ jaw clenches, his eyes reflecting a hatred James had only seen reserved for his own parents. “I’m going to kill him, James,” he whispers, a growl curling the edges of the words into something deadly. He rubs a hand over his face, eyes flickering down to where Harry’s finally stopped crying before meeting James’ gaze again. “So help me god, I’m going to kill him.”

“Sirius,” Lily’s voice comes, weaker than it had been in their own home, but still with that spark of strength that had carried them all through these months of isolation. She reaches a hand out for him and Sirius grasps it, the four of them connected here, grounded by touch with the proof that they all made it out alive. “You saved us. Don’t risk yourself now.” Dropping a kiss to the top of Harry’s head, she presses her back closer against James’ chest, and he doesn’t know if he’ll ever let her and Harry out of his sight again after tonight. Doesn’t know if he can bear the thought of not having everyone he loves within arms’ reach.

A lump has wedged itself into his throat. “Tell Dumbledore,” he manages around the swell of emotion, attention on Sirius. “Send a patronus, but don’t leave. You’re no safer than we are right now.”

#it's (always) you #jilytober2023 #jily #jple #james potter #lily evans #31 prompts

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