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nashibirne · 3 years

Note

Congrats on your milestone!! Love your writing and since you're doing the whole "milestone party" I would like to ask if you could write something about reader and first baby. It could be something like them being very happy in the beginning, anxious by the end of the pregnancy but in the first weeks after the baby is born everything being caotic, the reader is stressed and sometimes they fight for something silly and it could have a happy ending, maybe he preparing a special surprise for her, some smut and they kinda "reconnect"... I don't mind if it gets too big, I would appreciate if you like the idea, It can be sy or walter, their POV, the reader can have a name too if you'd like. Thank you so much and congratulations again 🎉🥳

Here comes the second fic for my milestone celebration 🥳

Dear nonie, thank you so much for your prompt 💜 I love it and it made me think of Walter and his bumblebee from my fic Closer immediately. So I hope you don't mind I made this a follow up.

I tried to include all your wishes and I hope you like the struggles, the fluff and the smut.

🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲

MAYBUG

Pairing: Walter Marshall x reader

Summary: Walt and his wife are stressed out and enjoy a little escape. Follow-up to Closer

Words: ~ 1.8 k

Warnings: Smut, NSFW, 18+, Sex (p in v), fingering, dirty talking, kinda light breeding kink, masturbation, mentioning of sex toys and voyeurism, mentioning of problematic birth

UNBETA'ED! English is not my mother tongue, so expect bad grammar, wrong spelling, chaotic punctuation and clumsy language. All mistakes are mine…

Credits: pics for the header from pinterest.

I don't own Walter Marshall (unfortunately)

If you like this story, check out my masterlist!

***********

I'm sure it wasn't so stressful with Faye when she was a baby. She was a whirlwind, challenging her mum and me 24/7 as soon as she was able to walk but I'm pretty sure in the first year she was a little angel, not doing much more than sleeping, eating and lulling us into a false sense of security, making us think the peace would last forever.

Maybe it's gonna be the other way round with our little maybug. A chaotic first year and all the peace afterwards.

We've been on an emotional rollercoaster ride for almost two years now. Y/n stopped taking the pill shortly after our engagement and a few months before our wedding. I couldn't wait to get her pregnant, our sex life was great at that time, we did it as often as possible, having the time of our lives, enjoying each other and our deep connection. When my little bumblebee finally surprised me with a positive pregnancy test after 8 months of very intense trying, we were both beyond happy and completely over the moon and besides the usual pregnancy-related worries and difficulties everything went well.

That was until y/n went into labor and suddenly everything turned out to be very different from what we both had wished for. There was no calm atmosphere, no peaceful water birth but a lot of stress and anxiety instead when unexpected complications occured. I wasn't solid as a rock for her, I was a nervous wreck and very disappointed in myself but my wonderful wife was incredibly tough, fighting to be strong for both of us with fierce determination. She was no bumblebee that night, she was a hornet. In the end she had an emergency c-section and our little boy was born after almost 24 hours of labour on a mild Saturday night in May. When we finally held this perfect, beautiful little bundle of life in our arms all pain and fear was forgotten and we cried together for joy and gratefulness.

Now, six months later, we're still very happy, enjoying our family life and our time together. I've stepped back from work a little, doing office work mostly, staying away from the time consuming major cases. It's hard sometimes to be condemned to just watch my colleagues working in the front-line but I know it's worth it. I don't want to make the same mistakes again, the mistakes that ruined my first marriage and jeopardized my relationship with Faye. Besides that y/n needs my support, although she would never admit it. Our little maybug suffers from colic and cries a lot so she's constantly sleep-deprived and on top of that she tortures herself with self-reproach because breastfeeding didn't work and our baby son only gets formula, which -in her eyes- is the reason for his regular pain. She's constantly stressed out, tense and oversensitive and we fight over the most silly things.

When she had a nervous breakdown the other day because she hadn't managed to cook dinner for me after another night without sleep and a whole day of trying to calm down a crying baby in pain, I decided it was enough, that she needed a break, I needed a break and maybe even our little muffin needed a break from his worn out parents. So after y/n had a good cry on my shoulder, listening to my comforting words that made her relax a little, I made her her favorite sandwich, sent her to bed after she'd enjoyed it and took our little boy on a ride. He likes it when we drive around in my truck, the sonorous sound of the engine has a soothing effect on him and eventually he stopped crying and fell asleep, just as exhausted as his mom. I got myself a burger from the drive-through, ate it in the parking lot and I came up with an idea for a little treat for me and my wife.

And now here we are, sitting in the huge tub in the bathroom of a luxurious hotel suite in our hometown, just 20 minutes away from our little boy who's staying with y/n's sister for the weekend. It wasn't easy to convince my wife that he's going to survive one night without us and that we really need some time for us but now, after a romantic candle light dinner and a special treatment afterwards she really seems to enjoy our little escape.

"God, Walt...you were right, I needed this. The food was delicious and your massage worked wonders. Thank you so much, papa bear."

She's sitting in front of me in the steaming hot water that smells like tropical flowers, her body covered with lush foam, her back resting against my chest, her butt between my spread legs, pressing against my cock.

"Well, it wasn't a Tantra massage but I'm glad you enjoyed it anyway." I press a kiss on her hair and hug her from behind. "I enjoyed it too, by the way. My hands all over your wonderful backside, that was very sexy," I whisper in her ear before I start to caress her breasts while kissing her neck. Damn, I love her tits, even more now after the pregnancy. They are so soft, so welcoming and warm, plus they are bigger than before, perfect for burying my face in them or for a filthy boob fuck.

Y/n moans softly under my touch and I go on, determined to make this date night unforgettable. After a while I let one of my hands glide over her belly, that wonderful part of her body that has carried our child and that is so smooth beneath my rough palm. I feel the stretch marks she hates so much but I kinda love them. They're like a map that shows what she's been through and what the female body is capable of. For her it's a flaw, when I look at it I see nothing but strength. With that thought I slip my hand between her legs, stroking her pussy, my fingers gliding through her swollen folds, provoking one of these drawn, hoarse moans that always escape her mouth when she likes what I'm doing and that turn me on so much. She cranes her neck to look at me and I bent my head to kiss her. The kiss is slow and sensual, tasting sweet and promising. I moan into her mouth, one hand on her tit, kneading it intensely, giving her erect nipple some extra attention with my thumb, one hand on her pussy. I keep on stroking her clit while we make out and she moves her hips, rolling them slowly against my rock-hard cock.

"You like that, baby?" I want to know, panting into her ear.

"I like it a lot…", y/n sighs, bucking her hips. I know exactly what she wants.

"How about that?" I stretch my arm, shifting my position a little to penetrate her slowly with two fingers, brushing them against her g-spot with light pressure.

"Fuck...Walt…"

Her moans are getting louder with each thrust into her cunt, her hips moving rhythmically. I stimulate her clit with my thumb and I can tell she's close, putty in my hands, a whimpering, panting mess and I love it.

"Mommy's still my little whore, right?" I ask, my voice rough and thick with arousal and desire, my dick throbbing, pressed against her ass. "Look at you, riding my fingers like the good girl you are. I love how that feels…"

I fingerfuck her harder and it doesn't take her long to cum with a loud moan, my name on her lips on top of her orgasm. She rides it out slowly, breathing heavily and I give her some time to recover before I grab her by her waist, lift her up and make her sit down on my cock. I can't wait another second, I need to feel her from the inside, her tight pussy stretching around my thick dick. She sighs when she easily sinks down on it, starting to ride me immediately, eagerly, greedy. She's still hungry, ready for more, giving me a hard time to pull myself together. I'd love to just rail her, to thrust into her cunt mercilessly to reach my own high but what I want even more is to see her come undone again, to make her fall apart on my dick, milking it when she cums again. So I hold her hips in a vice-like grip, pressing her down and she stops moving, waiting for me to take over. I let go of her hips and fuck her slowly, thrusting into her from underneath, caressing her tits, showering her shoulders with sloppy kisses.

She follows the rhythm and the pace I set and we both moan in unison. She reaches between her legs and starts touching herself which turns me on even further. I love watching her when she pleasures herself. She was a little hesitant about in the beginning of our relationship but when I even bought her some toys, she believed me that it was okay to masturbate in my presence, that it drove me absolutely wild to watch her, that I would fuck her like a predator after seeing her cum just by the touch of her own hands, using the toys I had chosen and allowed her to use. Today is no exception. Her soft moans and appreciative sighs are music to my ears and as soon as I fix my eyes on her fingers that circle her clit, while she strokes the shaft of my pounding cock with her other hand, I lose my shit.

I press her against my body and fuck her so hard and fast that the water spills all over the edge of the tub. She comes again shortly after I orgasm with a noise that's half grunt and half growl, arising deep from within my chest. My balls tighten and when I feel my cum shooting through my dick her pussy clenches around me and her body is trembling on top of mine. She cries out loud when I fill her up with my seed and I'm sure she knows that I imagine breeding her, when I keep on thrusting lightly, not pulling out even after we've both come down from our highs and my hard-on softens.

I know we still have to wait a few months till she gets pregnant again because her body needs time to heal but I guess it doesn't hurt to practice as often as we feel like it and to dream of adding another little bug to our family.

🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲

Taglist (let me know if you want to be added or removed)

@lunedelorient @inlovewithhisblueeyes @willkatfanfromasia @hell1129-blog @mis-lil-red @agniavateira @kebabgirl67 @omgkatinka @legendarywizarddetective @summersong69 @taebfada @xxxkatxo @artandotherdelights @notabronte @littlefreya @luclittlepond @eldarwen333 @meowpurrbooks @marantha @liliumdream @enchantedbytomandhenry @greensleeves888 @witcherfan @margauxmargaux07 @radaofrivia @m07belzen @a-little-counter-esperanto @starstruckkittyangel @mary-ann84 @sillyrabbit81 @emelinelovesjc @wheretheriversrunintothesea @lam0ureuxq @kingliam2019 @pandaxnienke @littleone65 @coloraturadiva

#henry cavill #cavillry #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #walter marshall fanfiction #walter marshall #walter marshall x you #walter marshall smut #ask nashi #follower celebration #follower milestone

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wandsandwheezes · 3 years

Text

Gala | R.D

WARNINGS // 2k // SMUT 18+, Unprotected sex, Public (??) sex, Exhibitionism (??), daddy kink, breeding if you squint, jealousy.

A/N // Hi I am kinda coming back from writing because I literally don’t know where this inspiration to suddenly write came from and I’ve never written for our bb Rog before so this is a whole experience for me, I hope you enjoy <33 this one goes out to my Roger whores @darthwheezely and @amxrtentias xoxo

There was no denying that Roger was able to light up the room with his smile, he still held all the charm and confidence that being a quidditch captain gave him. Thankfully for you, he also had enough personality to hold a conversation with anyone he had the pleasure of greeting or introducing himself to, meaning that you could lazily drape off his arm while sneaking glances at the way he had pulled himself together for the event.

The days you saw your boyfriend in a suit always seemed to end in a mess of kisses and half-removed fabric as you desperately tried to grasp as much of each other’s skin as humanly possible. His hair was swooped almost too perfectly from the messy ruffle that he would usually wear. The shirt he wore was buttoned up to the collar, accentuating his sharp jawline and striking smile, at his neck sat a tie, grateful that by the least you were able to convince him to not wear a bow tie, at least not to an event like this.

Fred and George would usually hold an annual gala in celebration of the anniversary of Weasley Wizard Wheezes opening and every year both you and Roger would be sure to get the invite. This year was no exception, you were dressed up in a simple but elegant satin gown, hair pushed out of your face and makeup perfectly done, not only making you look like a billion galleons but also feel it.

Being close with the Weasleys meant that you were sat right up at the head table with the two owners of the shop. You would often lend a hand whenever they needed a spare pair of hands or someone to bounce ideas off of, to the twins you were just part of the family, the same way any of their siblings were.

You were sat next to Roger, his hand resting protectively on your upper thigh while your arm had looped through his, temple resting on his shoulder as you waited patiently for the first course to arrive. You were always pleasantly surprised just how many tables the Twins were able to fit inside the shop when all of the displays were packed away and the space was cleared away.

“You seem distracted,” Roger spoke quietly, a small smile on his lips as you looked up at him, you laughed a little, pressing a kiss to his cheek before going back to the comfortable position you were once in.

“Just hungry, love.” You hummed, I’m truth you were distracted, very much because throughout the course of the evening, he had ran his hands through his hair so much that little pieces had started to fall into his eyes much like they usually did and you couldn’t help but marvel at just how breathtaking he was.

“When aren’t you?” He joked, giving your leg a playful squeeze before you return with a laugh and a weak elbow to his side, watching as he broke out with a laugh, making you even more distracted by him.

“I should be offended, Davies.”

“You’re telling me you aren’t always hungry then?”

“That’s beside the point, Rog-”

Midway through the second course Fred leans over, whispering about how a girl from another table was throwing daggers your way, making a joke that he could give her something to look at, the thought in your head causing a laugh to fall from your lips as you dabbed the edge of your napkin against your lips.

Your boyfriend had observed the interaction, the grip on his cutlery tightening slightly at the way you reacted to Fred, a bubble of jealousy growing at how your friend had dared get so close to your neck, a place where he was already planning to paint with his tongue, leaving deep red hickeys in its place.

He accidentally dropped the knife against the plate, grumbling at the clattering sound as he picked it up again. You turned your head towards the noise, noticing the tensed jaw and disgruntled look that flushed upon his face. Roger was always easily jealous, not that he didn’t trust you but the thought of other people gawking at what was his gave him that edge.

“Rog, baby, what’s wrong?” You asked softly, hand placed gently on his bicep as you turned your full attention to him.

“Nothing, sweetheart.” He smiled, nose scrunching up sweetly as he licked his lips, head ducking down to bite the food from his fork before smiling again at you with his cheeks full of food.

It wasn’t until after desert had settled that you were being pulled away from the chatter and laughter up the stairs, being met with Roger’s bruising kiss as soon as you were out of sight from the rest of the guests. It was at this point that you realised when he said there was nothing wrong, he was most definitely lying.

His hands were practically tugging the satin away from your body as you melted into his touch, arms snaking around his neck, lips pressed together messily as he took charge of the situation, not realising that he was walking you backwards until your back was flush against a solid surface.

In the mess of kisses and the way you were practically putty in his hands at his very touch, you had hardly realised your surroundings until you broke away for air. His lips continued to pepper kisses over your neck while his hand pressed into the small of your bare back ever so slightly, arching your back for him at the feel of his electric touch.

“Baby, we can’t do this here, It’s Fred’s off–” You stuttered out through faint moans.

“Hmm... I don’t care, love.” He chuckled, nipping a kiss at your jawline, trailing kisses along until he pressed a kiss to your chin, each corner of your mouth then finally your lips.

“Now am I going to have to teach you how to follow rules again or can my good girl remember?” He hummed, deep voice rumbling into your chest, a faint whimper falling from your lips at the feeling.

“I’ll be good, daddy, I promise I’ll be so good for you.” You mewled, taking a quick and sharp breath in as he pulled you into his chest effortlessly with the hand pressed to your back, using his free hand to teasingly guide the zip of the dress down and over the curve of your ass, noting quickly the lack of underwear covering you.

“Yeah? Were you being good when you let Fred get all close? practically bearing your pretty little neck to let him mark… was that being good?” His hand slipped under the loosened material of the dress, his large hand squeezing at your bum as he chuckled, answering his own question. “I don’t think it was.”

“Roger, I–”

He cut you off, spinning you around quickly with his hand wrapped around your throat, back pressed to his chest as you whined against his firm grip.

“Breaking rules already are we, little one?”

You quickly shake your head, letting out a deep breath as he released his grip on your neck, hands working quickly to push the straps of the dress off your shoulders before taking your exposed breasts in the palm of his hands, pressing a sweet kiss to your earlobe before nibbling at the soft skin.

“Words, princess.” He hummed, thumbs teasingly running over your hardening nipples as your breathing grew staggered. Your boyfriend knew just how sensitive they were to touch, using that sweet spot against you as he teased you into speechlessness.

“Daddy, I–”

“What’s wrong, baby?” He teased, smirking as he used the same tone you had used with him earlier.

“I need…” you trailed off, his lips peppering kisses along your shoulder.

“You need what? C’mon, princess, you can tell me.”

“I need you.”

“Me? Hm, you’ve got me already haven’t you now, dumb baby? What do you need me for?” He chuckled, one of his hands hitching your thigh up while the other threw the spilt of the dress open, his fingertips finding your clit with ease.

“That what you needed? To be touched?” He began slowly circling at the bundle of nerves between your thighs, feeling the way he had already gotten you soaking wet, having hardly touched you.

“Yes, Daddy, I like it when you touch me like that.” The words could hardly come out as the grip on your thigh became tighter, making sure to keep your legs open for him.

“There you are, using your words like a big girl.” He praised, proudly drawing noisy moans from you, no longer caring if anyone could hear you at all, in fact he would rather everyone heard how you whored yourself out for him, drove him crazy in fact.

Spinning you around, you quickly found yourself with your backside pressed against the cold wood of Fred’s desk. Roger’s hands worked seamlessly on unbuckling his belt, pulling himself free before your hands quickly found his length, stroking him ever so slightly as he grew harder at your touch.

“Do you know how hard it is to stop myself from splitting you in two, princess? From filling my precious girl’s cunt up and leaving her ruined.” He mused, hand reaching up to tuck a fallen strand of hair behind your ear.

“Then don’t, daddy.” You whispered, hand tangling into the hair at the back of his head to pull him into your lips, kissing him roughly as you felt him groan against your lips.

His cockhead teased at your slick entrance for a moment before he began to push himself inside of you, forcing your legs to wrap around his hips as he leant forwards to make sure he was getting the best angle.

With every thrust, the handles of the drawers rattled and the wood creaked, Fred’s office becoming filled with breathy moans and the sounds of slapping skin. He wasn’t being particularly rough for the moment but the angle he hit was enough to send you to heaven, every time you thought he had bottomed out, he found another way to push deeper, filling you completely.

“Feels so good, daddy, please.”

“Tight little thing you are, feel so nice around me, my good girl.”

He began to pick up the pace, fucking into you at much faster speed than you were expecting, moaning out loud enough for anyone to hear, one hand pulling your hip so that you met every thrust while the other toyed with your clit, helping bring you to release.

“You gonna cum for me, baby? you’ve been so good.”

“Cum with me, daddy, please.” You begged, his forehead pressed against yours as he swallowed you moans with a kiss for a moment.

“Yeah? You want that, do you?”

“Please.” You whispered, feeling that familiar knot in your stomach as he continued to hit your favourite spot with his slightly slower but still deep thrusts. Releasing over his cock as you felt him painting your walls with his own release.

“Well done, baby, looking so beautiful.” He lovingly ran his hand over your hair, smoothing it out.

“Hope you’re ready for when we get home, I’m not quite done with you or your perfect cunt yet, princess.”

He took your hands in his, holding them both above your head before switching to hold both wrists in one hand while the other ghosted down your half-naked side.

“Get used to this, love, I’m gonna tie these wrists to the bed and absolutely ruin you.”

You leaned in to press a kiss to his lips, smiling at him bashfully. “Thank you, daddy.”

“You’re most welcome, sweetheart, now let’s get you home shall we?”

You nodded quickly, letting him pull your dress into place before leading you quickly out of the shop, leaving Fred’s office in a state. You both were avoiding the gaze of others as you ducked away from the function, eager to be at home with only each other’s presence.

It was surely going to be an eventful night.

taglist // @pansydaisy @feetoffthetablee @darthwheezely @http-caitwo @omghufflepuff @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @loony-loopy-lupinn @Sky-ran-away @theweasleytwinsgirl @pandaxnienke @turtletaylor98 @whizboyhalo @georgeweasleysbabe @lilypad-55449 @gaycatlord-stuff @garyluly @asthmax @planetasteri-blog @the-unmanaged-mischief @hufflepuffalice @weasleysprofessionalhoe @jorduhnn @the-clearest @freds-slut

((to my taglist - sorry if this is something that isn’t for you but I really do hope you enjoy <3))

#roger davies x reader #roger davies #smut #harry potter fic #harry potter writing #harry potter smut #fred and george #roger davies smut

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bytheangell · 4 years

Text

Sing for the Moment

(Read on AO3)

Isabelle hangs up the phone to update her siblings and Magnus that Clary is almost here with Simon, they’re just running late. It doesn’t matter much - these informal nights in don’t really have a set timeframe, and the absence of Biscuit and Simon hasn’t stopped any of them from catching up and drinking while they wait.

Magnus isn’t surprised to hear the tinkering of the piano from the kitchen while he gets more drinks for himself, Alec, Isabelle, and Jace. He made the instrument a permanent feature in his home after Alec brought up his and Jace’s shared fondness of it and how it helps them work through their thoughts sometimes, but neither of them plays much while Magnus was around to overhear, and when he is it’s usually something controlled and classical.

What reaches him now is some pop song from the 2000s, if Magnus remembers correctly, which catches him off-guard entirely.

He’s even more surprised when he returns to the living room to see Alec is the one at the bench, frowning intently down at the keys after messing up.

“C’mon, I know you know it,” Izzy encourages, leaning eagerly over the side of the piano.

“Drinks are staying over here for whenever you’re ready,” Magnus says, setting them down on the table and not bringing them any closer to the intoxicated Lightwood siblings at the piano. Not that he doesn’t trust them not to spill anything on it but… well, he absolutely does not, and that’s a very expensive instrument. Izzy backs away from the piano to get her glass and Alec moves to do the same until Izzy stops him.

“No drink for you until I get my song,” she demands, pouting.

“Iz-” Alec starts.

“Nope,” Izzy says, picking his glass up along with her own and holding it hostage.

“Jace?” Alec tries. “A little help?”

Magnus isn’t sure if Alec’s asking for help in retrieving his drink or in figuring out the part of the song he can’t seem to remember.

“If I do it for you how will you learn?” Jace says, in a slightly mocking tone that makes Magnus think that’s a line Alec used on Jace one too many times in the past.

Instead of arguing Alec sighs and sits back down, adorably resigned, until he remembers the right chords after a few attempts.

Izzy’s so pleased she puts both drinks down on the table again, abandoning them in favor of returning to her brother at the piano. Alec plays the opening chords and when he gets to the melody starts to hum.

Magnus sometimes hears him humming songs around the Loft. He knows Alec can carry a tune, more or less, but when the humming turns into lyrics Magnus is surprised at how good he is at singing. Alec sings quietly but confidently, and Magnus can’t believe this is the first time he’s ever heard Alec sing. Soon Alec’s soft tones are drowned out when Izzy joins in, much louder and a slightly slurred, but still beautiful. As if on cue Jace wanders over as well, drawn in by his siblings’ shift of focus entirely to the music, and Alec instinctively shifts over on the bench to make room for his parabatai who provides some embellished accompaniment and sings as well.

It’s all Magnus can do to stand and watch in awe at the sheer talent of the three of them. Some of it he can tell is carefully honed by practice, the piano playing in particular, but a lot of it is a natural ability. He listens to the shifting keys, the trills of scales, an impressive vibrato, and gets lost in the music so much he almost forgets where he is and who he’s listening to.

When the song finishes Alec, smiling softly, notices Magnus staring in unconcealed admiration. “What?” Alec asks. There's a bit of a furrow to his brow, the confusion clearly showing that he has no idea why Magnus is gaping a little at the performance he just witnessed.

“How,” Magnus asks, astonishment clear in his tone. “Are you all so good at that?” He thinks it's a pretty valid question, but all three of the Lightwood siblings turn to him with the same confused look Alec has.

“What?” Jace asks.

“Surely someone’s pointed out that all of your voices are magnificent before,” Magnus insists. There's no way he's the first person to ever mention it.

Izzy looks uncertain. “What? Everyone can sing.”

Magnus shakes his head. “Not like that,” he points out.

Alec considers that. “Huh,” is all he says, before going to get his drink, already shrugging off the praise.

"Have any of you ever listened to the average person sing?" Magnus wonders aloud. The question isn't aimed at any of them in particular at this point, but he's curious.

"Well... no, not really. Stuff on the radio, but it isn't like Shadowhunters are belting Elton John songs through the halls of the Institute," Jace admits. Sometimes Magnus forgets how relatively isolated their upbringings at the Institute were, as far as exposure to others not just their age but also in simple, fun social settings.

"No, I don't suppose they were," Magnus concedes. "Well then, let me be the first to inform you that you have significantly above average vocal talents and now that I'm aware of it, Alexander, we are absolutely going to a Karaoke Bar."

Alec spins around to face him so fast he nearly drops the drink in his hand. "What? No. Absolutely not."

"I'll go," Jace volunteers, just as the sound of the door opening and closing reaches them.

"Me too!" Izzy agrees.

"Where are we going?" Clary asks, making her way into the living room.

"Nowhere-" Alec starts, at the same time Isabelle says, "A karaoke bar!" with great enthusiasm.

"Oh, I know a few great spots for that," Simon offers, and Magnus smirks as Alec groans. There's no way Alec is going to stay home knowing Magnus is out drinking with his siblings knowing the sort of chaos they could cause if left entirely unchecked. Not that Magnus would ever allow them to get in actual trouble, but...

"Fine. But not tonight. Please, my nerves can't take it this week," Alec practically pleads.

"Of course, darling," Magnus agrees.

Now that everyone is here Magnus heads to the kitchen to get more drinks for Clary and Simon. The night in is much more relaxing than an impromptu trip to a karaoke bar, that's for certain, complete with a mundane board game Simon brought with, more drinks, some food to soak those drinks up with, and a lot of laughter. By the end of it, with everyone now significantly tipsy if not full-on drunk, it's no surprise they end up back at the piano.

Clary and Jace sit on the bench while Jace tries to teach her a few chords to a song. It's awful, not that any of them expect it to be anything else. Alec challenges Jace to play something classical that would be complicated even while one is entirely sober, a challenge which Jace immediately accepts because he's Jace, and of course he does. The mood is so light that Magnus can't even bring himself to shoo Isabelle off the piano which she's currently sitting on top of, drink in hand, shifting so that she's lounging elegantly with one heeled foot up in the air like the girls in piano lounges in the movies while Simon hovers next to her in case she drops her drink, or herself, off the piano.

Tearing his focus away from the piano, Magnus wanders his way over to Alec who is watching his siblings and their significant others with open endearment from the sofa a few feet away. Magnus approaches him and holds out a hand, palm up in invitation. "May I?"

Alec looks from Magnus' hand up to his face for a moment before standing with a smile, placing his drink down on the side table so his left hand is free to wrap around Magnus' waist while his right takes his husband's hand. Alec looks like he intends on mostly swaying in place but Magnus has other plans. With a gentle tug forward he leads Alec around the coffee table, past the side of the sofa, and even for a brief diversion out onto the balcony while they dance around the loft in small circles of movement and the occasional dip or spin.

Not too many of those, though, after Alec starts to look a little queasy halfway through their dance despite his best efforts to hide it. Magnus isn't sure he'd admit it until he's two seconds away from ruining Magnus' shoes or one of their very expensive rugs so best to play it safe. By the end of the song they are just swaying, a simple back and forth in one another's arms. Whatever nerves Alec mentioned earlier from the previous week are long gone and he feels like putty in Magnus' hands.

"Thank you," Alec says softly, his voice barely above a whisper since his mouth is already next to Magnus' ear, chin resting on Magnus’ shoulder.

"For what?" Magnus asks.

"For this. Having my family over. I know we already intrude on your time normally, and I'm sure you don't want them around all the-"

"I'm going to stop you right there, Alexander. Because they aren't just your family, they're our family. And they're more than welcome as often as you want them here," Magnus tells him. "I know how much they mean to you, and if you still want to see them after working with them all day then I think I can manage a few nights a week of drunken Shadowhunters in the Loft."

"And vampires!" Simon chimes in instinctively before wincing. "Sorry. Vamp hearing, still don't really have a grip on turning it off when I'm drunk."

"Keep eavesdropping and I'm hiding the plasma next time," Magnus warns, though they all know it's an empty threat (and that Simon would show up, plasma or not).

Simon smiles, showing that he knows Magnus isn't serious, and turns back to helping Isabelle make her way down from the top of the piano as the last notes of Jace's song trail off to an end. Clary claps and Jace pushes the stool back so he can stand and take a very dramatic bow. The performance itself was riddled with mistakes, notes blurring together with fumbled keys and chords that were just a bit off, but even with all of those drunken errors it was better than most people with years of practice could probably manage. Magnus remembers his own poor performance on the first - and consequently last - instrument he attempted to take up before abandoning pursuits of a musical nature entirely. So, to give credit where credit is due, he drops his arms from around Alec to join in the small smattering of applause.

"Don't," Alec half-pleads, half-groans. "It'll go to his head."

Magnus laughs at that, returning his arms to wrap around Alec's waist. "You're lucky I like my hands better down here anyway," he murmurs into Alec's ear, sliding them down ever so slightly towards Alec's ass until he stops at the sound of Simon's voice.

"Gross-" Simon starts, and Magnus turns to level him with a warning glare for more eavesdropping that lacks any real heat. "They're getting flirty, I think that's our cue to leave."

Alec laughs lightly in Magnus' ear but it is very late. Magnus hadn't kept track of the time and he hadn't expected any of them to stay this long to begin with.

"Do you need a portal back? Or you can stay the night if you want," Magnus offers, not to anyone in particular because they're all welcome to spend the night if they need to. He can conjure up mattresses and cots for as many people as he needs if it's more than just one couple for the guest room.

"I think the fresh air will do me good," Jace says quickly.

"You just hate portaling when you're drunk," Isabelle chides.

"You're not the one he threw up on last time," Clary reminds Isabelle. "I'm all for walking if it means avoiding that fate again."

"You sure you're good?" Magnus asks one last time, because what kind of host would he be if he didn't?

They all nod. "Don't worry, I'll walk them back," Simon says, which might be more reassuring if Magnus wasn't acutely aware of how much plasma he had, but he seems to be steady enough with his arm around Isabelle to keep her from wobbling on her heels on their way towards the door.

"Text when you're back!" Alec calls, though that's routine for nights like these and the reminder is likely unnecessary.

"Yes, dad," Clary calls over her shoulder mockingly, but Magnus can hear the affection in her tone as she does and finds himself feeling rather fond of the whole scenario playing out in front of him.

Fond. It's not a word Magnus would've expected to associate with a bunch of Shadowhunters - and a vampire, he adds mentally, Simon's voice echoing in his head - but it's the one he keeps finding himself coming back to.

He enjoys watching how close they all are, how much they care not just about each other but the world around them. He’s fond of them as well, and not entirely because of their connection to Alec though that certainly helps.

Magnus turns to see about continuing the flirting he was recently accused of, only to be greeted by the sight of Alec slumped back down onto the sofa, eyes half-closed. If his heart wasn’t full of fondness before it certainly is now.

“C’mon, let’s get you to bed,” Magnus says. They make their way to the bedroom, with Magnus using a bit of magic to get them changed into sleepwear so they can crawl directly under the covers.

Just when Magnus is positive Alec is asleep he hears the gentle hum of a song he doesn’t recognize, but one that’s unmistakably a lullaby, sound through the silence. “Do I get sung to sleep every night, now?” Magnus whispers, shifting just enough to see the hint of a smile on Alec’s face in the dark.

Instead of answering Alec simply continues his quiet song, keeping himself awake just long enough for his phone to vibrate with the text from his siblings that they’re home safe. Only then does Magnus hear the notes fade to silence as they allow sleep to claim them.

#malec #clace #sizzy #shadowhunters #magnus bane #alec lightwood #isabelle lightwood #jace herondale #simon lewis #clary fray #FLUFF #friendship and family and happiness #elle writes a few deadbeat lines #long post

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litwitlady · 4 years

Text

Cosmic Clowns, Part Six

The following Monday Alex is back in the office and things are much quieter. Liz and Maria have returned, but they are both so busy catching up on client emails that Alex doesn’t hear a peep from either of them.

He misses Michael.

Misses the way he’d wink hello. Or the incessant pounding of his hammer. The way he made Liz and Maria laugh so easily. The way a fresh, perfectly poured cup of coffee always appeared on his desk each morning.

So, Alex takes a lunch. For the first time in weeks. He ignores Liz’s knowing giggles as he walks past her desk. Ignores the way she gleefully shouts, ‘Tell Mikey we said hello!’

The noon sky is bright and crystal clear. As Alex rounds the corner of the Crashdown, he spots Michael up a ladder. He’s in nothing but a black tank top, arms flexing as he stretches across to paint the store’s wood paneling. Alex decides to watch a while – enjoying the view. It’s something he realizes he gets to do now – ogle his maybe one day boyfriend without a hint of fear or shame.

‘Would you mind handing me the roller?’ Michael winks down at him, pointing at the small roller resting against an unopened paint can.

Alex blushes, but reaches up to pass the roller to him. Michael lets his fingertips accidentally tiptoe lightly across Alex’s wrist before grabbing the roller and returning to his task, smiling smugly to himself.

Just that slight contact sends Alex’s head spinning, toes curling. He undoes the top button on his dress shirt and swallows. ‘How’s the new gig going?’

‘Can’t complain. Arturo’s a pretty cool boss. Although, not as hot as the last one. Less distracting, though.’ He finishes coating all the wood he can reach and climbs down to reset the ladder. He shifts into Alex’s space suddenly. Pauses. Licks his bottom lip. ‘Can I kiss you hello? On the cheek?’

Alex inhales sharply and nods. Michael presses his palm into Alex’s right cheek and his lips into the other, lingering there for so long Alex’s knees start to feel like putty.

‘So, this must be the famous Alex Manes.’

Alex jumps back at the sound of his name. A tall, lithe blonde has joined them, sunglasses perched on top of her head and arms crossed over her chest. ‘I’m Isobel – the sister. Don’t know if you remember me from high school or not.’

She extends her hand and Alex shakes it, switching into business mode. ‘You were hard to miss.’

Michael chuckles and Isobel grins, shoving her brother playfully. ‘I’ll take that as a compliment. Have you asked him yet, Michael?’

‘Asked me what?’ Alex takes a couple of steps back, needing the space. He hadn’t been prepared to meet or be reintroduced to any of Michael’s family so soon.

‘Oh, ah, we were thinking about going to the Chavez County fair tomorrow night. Thought you might like to go. Isobel is taking Maria.’ Isobel smiles fondly at the mention of Maria, eyes going a bit dreamy.

Michael bumps Alex with this shoulder. ‘You, me, and the top of the Ferris wheel seems like a pretty good night. Yeah?’

Alex looks back and forth between the siblings, both of them grinning at him and expecting him to say yes. So, he does. ‘I’d love to.’

‘Yay!’ Isobel claps her hands and leans over to kiss Michael on the cheek. ‘I’m off to a charity luncheon, but I’ll see you tonight. Nice seeing you again, Alex. Looking forward to tomorrow.’ With a wave and a wink, she’s gone.

‘Wow, she’s –‘

‘Intense. I know. But I love her. And she’s been through a lot.’ His eyes darken briefly, and Alex recalls the mysterious death of her husband, Noah Bracken, a couple of years back. ‘You got kind of bombarded there. So, if you don’t want to go to the fair just let me know.’

‘I do want to go. Really. I need to make sure my neighbor can dog-sit, though. So, I’ll call you later tonight to confirm.’ Michael smiles at him and nods. And Alex wants to kiss him. On the mouth this time. But some rope around his heart keeps tugging at him – keeping him from reaching out for the things that he wants. And so, he gestures towards the diner instead. ‘I better go get lunch before my hour’s up. Liz and Maria will send out a search party if I’m late.’

‘Okay. I’m glad you crawled out of that dank, dark office for once. You look good with the sun on your skin.’ He takes two steps closer to Alex, hovering an inch from his mouth. ‘Tomorrow night I want to kiss you properly. You can choose the time and place – on top of the Ferris wheel, secretly in a dark corner of the funhouse, wide open in the middle of the fairway. Anywhere. So, while you’re figuring out your dog-sitting situation, maybe give that some thought, too.’

Alex can feel the blood rush across his cheeks as his face heats up. Michael pretends not to notice the effect he has and rebuttons Alex’s top button. He places his palms just over the top of Alex’s chest, eyes asking for permission. Alex feels himself nod, swaying towards Michael’s hands. The touch is gentle and slow, smoothing out the wrinkles in Alex’s shirt. But Michael lets his thumbs brush firmly against Alex’s nipples once and then twice, loving the tiny little exhale of breath Alex can’t hide.

And then Michael is gone. Half-way up the ladder before Alex even realizes. He stands there lost in a daze before realizing how silly he must look. Shaking his head, he waves goodbye to Michael and dips inside the Crashdown to order lunch. Flashes of carnival lights dancing in his eyes.

When he gets home, Alex heads straight for Natalie’s house. They exchange polite small talk and she agrees to watch Trix the next night. So later that night, he sits on his sofa, Trix’s head in his lap, and pulls out his phone. Dials Michael’s number.

‘Hey, sailor.’ His sounds sleepy.

Alex snorts. ‘I’m no sailor. Did I wake you up?’

‘Yeah, but I’m not complaining. Get a dog-sitter?’ He yawns into the speaker, humming in contentment and Alex wants nothing more than to drive to Michael’s house and crawl into bed beside him.

‘Yes. So, you can pick me up directly from work if you want. Maybe get dinner first – just the two of us?’ He holds his breath waiting for Michael’s answer.

‘Alexander Manes, are you asking me on a date?’

‘A do-over, actually. After I ruined our last dinner.’ He takes a deep breath and musters all the courage he possesses. ‘And I’d like you to kiss me goodnight. At my front door.’

He can hear the smile in Michael’s voice. ‘Delayed gratification. I like it. But you didn’t ruin our dinner. I loved our dinner.’

‘Well, I still think I can do better. So. I’ll see you tomorrow night.’ Alex can’t keep the grin out of his voice either. Or the butterflies out of his stomach.

‘Sweet dreams, Alex.’ They hang up the phone and neither one gets a wink of sleep that night.

#malex #malex fic #cosmic clowns cpa #the tension builds!#will they ever kiss properly?#who can say?#i can!#they will!

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eutaerpe · 5 years

Text

a certain romance

pairing — namjoon x reader

genre/warnings— boyfriend!namjoon, bad humour, (attemps at) dirty talking, mostly dry humping.

summary — “Let’s prove a point to Park fucking Jimin, then.” He angles your face so that he can kiss you freely on your cheek and neck and the sweet spot behind your ear. As he does so, your breath hitching, he smiles wider, and his voice turns deeper. “At the end of the day I can still fuck you into the mattress, right?”

notes — this one literally came out of the blue. i just wanted to write :) unedited, so sorry in advance for any mistake?

“Jimin says we can’t text like a normal couple.”

Namjoon drops his phone on the bed, hair still wet from the shower. “He—what?”

“I know,” you groan, plopping on his unmade and very messy bed, his arms slowly enveloping you in a hug, “He says we always end up sexting.”

“Jimin.” He says, blinking silently, “Jimin told you that.”

You hum, closing your eyes as he brushes his fingers into your hair. Namjoon must feel outraged at the revelation, because he laughs without a trace of irony and spits back: “Park I fingered my girlfriend under the table at dinner with my parents Jimin?”

“Yeah,” the corners of your lips tug upwards, “Park I fucked my girlfriend in the shower while Taehyung was brushing his teeth Jimin.”

“The short one. Filled with rage?”

“Closer to hell.”

“Dirtier than hyung’s epic rendezvous?”

“Which hyung,” you chuckle, turning into his arms and staring at his gorgeous, mad face. “Jin, Yoongi or Hoseok?”

“The shortest one,” he replies, pinching his nose. “Maybe the kinkiest people in the world are the shortest.”

“Hey,” you elbow him, eyes closed, “I’m short.”

“And I’m not complaining, babe.”

“I mean,” you start, unlocking your phone, “I think he does have a point though.”

“Babe,” he rasps, tickling your neck, “We just have a very healthy sexual life.”

“We have a sex playlist on Spotify.”

“We also use flavored condoms. Your point?”

Namjoon’s poker face makes you huff and throw your head back in an exhilarated laugh. “Okay, let’s check our last conversation. You down?”

He passes a hand through his dark blonde hair, wetting his lips. “Yeah,” Namjoon answers, shuffling on his back on the bed and throwing you on top of him, your phone in his hands.

“You sent me a,” you hear him click his tongue, pensive, “Nice text back.”

“That I did,” you sniff, hand on his broad chest, rolling your eyes because maybe Jimin did have a point. And your boyfriend is starting to noticing it now only. “That probably was the most awkward thing I did at my own place with my sister in the other room.”

Namjoon slowly untangles the knots in your hair, his unnerving smile on his soft, plump lips. He’s lying comfortably on his bed, as if you were having the most innocent and innocuous conversation. One that doesn’t highlight the excessive use of sexual innuendos in your conversations.

“Let’s prove a point to Jimin,” he says, a minute later, after he was left meditating on his thoughts, “We can have a conversation that doesn’t culminate into sex related stuff.”

“I know we can.”

“Brilliant,” your boyfriend huffs, before throwing your phone on his bed table and holding decently in his arms. “Now let me hold you.”

“Who ever said you can’t start affectionate gestures?”

“Jimin, probably. Closer to hell and all.”

“Man, these short people are gonna ruin us.”

“I know, right? They come into our lives and storm into our houses and we let them in because they’re cute.” You wait before answering, your right hand on his arm. “That was the mushiest thing that came out of your mouth since I’ve known you.”

“No, it wasn’t.”

“Oh my god,” you sit up, eyes comically wide, “I know why we always sext.”

“We do not.”

“Joon,” you pass a hand through your hair, the sudden realization frantically washing over you, “We never text each-other cringey, couple-y shit. If we do, it’s… weird. And we try to compensate the weird tension with the sexual tension.”

“Okay, Freud,” Namjoon exhales, before following your steps and sitting again on his own bed, “Let’s say we do. It’s not because we can’t bear the weird tension. There isn’t a weird tension. We’re just used to show affection in a way that’s different from other couples.”

He licks his lips, gesturing with his hands. “’M not talking about Jimin and his girlfriend.”

“Of course, we’re not.”

“We literally saw them making out on our own couch.”

“And heard them going at it more than once” you supply, rolling your eyes. Nothing to deny, really. The two of them had heart boners for each-other as much as they had real, magnetic, fucking chemical attraction for the other. Taehyung still makes puking gestures when they start kissing – which always ends up with her in his lap. Among other nasty things – and there are approximately fourteen ongoing bets regarding the two of them. Once upon a time there were sixteen, but apparently short people have some kind of connection—that’s why Jimin showed up late on your usual Wednesday nights out with a foolish, idiotic smile on his lips and silently crowned you winner of two freaking bets at the time.

“That doesn’t change the fact that we don’t show we care as much as they do.”

Namjoon blinks silently at that, his palms barely brushing your knuckles.

“Not that there’s a problem with that.” You whisper, “I know you love me just as loudly and clear. It’s just the same to me.”

You tilt your head while Namjoon processes your words, nodding to himself and humming a silent answer, your fingers quickly finding their perfect spot on your boyfriends’ neck. “I know.” He steals a glance at your parted lips, before pressing a chaste kiss on them. The kiss soon turns into two, or three, and surely there’s a fourth indefinitely sloppier, and slower and more desperate, almost panting.

“Babe,” he presses his smile on your jaw, cupping your cheek with his big hand, “Let’s prove a point to Park fucking Jimin, then.” He angles your face so that he can kiss you freely on your cheek and neck and the sweet spot behind your ear. As he does so, your breath hitching, he smiles wider, and his voice turns deeper. “At the end of the day I can still fuck you into the mattress, right?”

Kim fucking Namjoon. You gulp, unconsciously pressing your legs together and shutting your eyelids down. “Y-yeah.” You nod, “That sounds like a plan.”

“What,” he deadpans, a smirk plastered on his knowing face, “the Jimin deal or the fucking you?”

“Both,” you admit, voice a hush, “Mostly the fucking.”

“Mostly the fucking?”

“Especially the fucking.”

“Now,” he runs his fingers through the hem of your t-shirt, playing with the glimpse of skin he exposed. “That’s my good girl.”

“I hate you,” you say, lying, pushing your boyfriend on his bed, and throwing your shirt away on the ground. “So much.”

“Big fat lie.”

He brings you down with him, mouths connecting in a second. Namjoon takes his time unhooking your bra, his attention focused solely on your lips; when he finally does, he smiles. “Drop the attitude, baby.” He coos, “Then your pants.”

You still yourself, mouth on his neck, before groaning. “I’m suddenly not wet.”

“That’s a lie and we both know it.”

You place yourself on his center, palms on his broad chest and you stare at him, his eyebrows raised. “We were doing so fine.”

“Yeah?” – his hands roam on your hips and grab them seconds later, sliding you on his crotch as he starts moving you with a steady rhythm. When you moan – because there’s not much you can do when you’re putty in your tall, warm, loving boyfriend’s hands, he smirks, all taunting and pretty – “I think we’re still doing a pretty fine job.”

“O-Oh—fuck, Joon.”

“Grind on me, babe.”

You place your forearms on either side of his head, pressing yourself on his erection and losing yourself in his warmth, cheeks heated and hair mussy. You can’t help but suppress a groan when his palms sink in the back pockets of your shorts, grabbing you.

“You’re a dick.”

“And you’re cute. Not cute, like I wanna…” he grunts, thrusting upwards, “Pinch your cheeks. Maybe your ass cheeks. More like…” you can practically feel the outline of his dick and the realization alone makes you cry, and moan, and cry out his name. “Push you up against a wall.”

“Fuck me.”

It’s half a beg, half a desperate, frantic request. You’re so lost in your boyfriend’s touch that nothing else beside the very pretty, dimpled man matters. Nothing bears the same significance and relevance in your periphery – in your day, in your life – as he does. Which is truly, wholeheartedly terrifying. To have someone this important right here, next to your flushed body. He’s burning, and alive, and bright, someone quite close to a whole galaxy in flesh and blood. You blush at the thought, while he fondles your cheek; you barely hear the “all in due time” he exhales right before he goes to unzip your shorts.

“Enjoy the ride?”

“Oh my god,” you shudder, then let out a bubble laugh, hiding in the crook of his neck. “Namjoon.”

The boyfriend snickers, arms bent behind his neck. “I’m surely going to.”

((neither namjoon nor you hear the distinctive ping of his phone, signalling a new unread text. as a wise man once said, jimin: 0, namjoon: 1.

))

#namjoon #bts scenarios #namjoon bts #bts fluff #bts smut #namjoon smut #bts fanfic #bts fanficiton #bts fake texts #namjoon x reader #namjoon fluff #bts imagine #bts imagines #bts scenario #bts social media au #bts namjoon #bts x reader #namjoon scenario #namjoon scenarios

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8emmy · 4 years

Text

Friends With Benefits

This AU is new and is randomly going to be updated. Please send me prompts (songs, writing prompts, etc.) for this AU. Thanks!

Cassian forgets how he got into this arrangement with one of his best friend sister's. A girl who hated him with a burning passion that now comes by on Friday for some much needed mutual release.

AO3 Link: Chapter 1

Song 1

Song 2

Nesta's chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath. Cassian's fingers slowly come out of her tracing her clitoris and watching as Nesta shakes still in the aftermath of her orgasm. He forgets how they got here, how he is fucking one of his best friend's sisters, the girl that hated him.

Nesta watches as Cassian lifts those wicked digits and places them in his mouth. This was a bit too intimate for they're arrangement, but Nesta doesn't say anything but moan.

Friday's were Cassian's favourite day of the week. Because it was the day that Nesta comes to his apartment right after work in her fucking pencil skirt ready for their stress relief sessions.

Nesta's hand goes down to his dick, feeling how hard he was for her - for sex. They both needed sex. Sex with no emotions, just mutual, glorious, release. He moans away his wishes for a cuddle after this round. She smiled at him with teeth, like a predator who caught their prey. Cassian watches her slide down his mattress. Watches her kneel at his knees as she licks her lips, ready to devour his everything.

"Nes," Cassian begs. She glares at him. She hated his nicknames, at least says she hated them, but when they're in the throes of passion, and he is whispering those nicknames like prayers, she smirks and says her own for him. "I don't want you to suck me off. Ride me." He begs. He likes to tease but doesn't like it when the teasing is on him.

"But I am returning the favour," she says, taking his dick in her pretty hands, hands that were meant to be in his hair, on his chest while she rides him to oblivion. She pumps him. "Will you ever let me have fun, batboy?" She wrinkles her nose as she brings her head down. Her tongue laps his dick's head and he shutters. Fuck.

Batboy, when did that turn into a thing? He looks up to his ceiling, trying to last long and not cum before she rides him. Her lips part and she sucks on his head. He moans deep and throaty, "Nes, sweetheart, I won't last if you tease me this way." Nesta hums, and he fists his sheets trying to calm himself down. He can feel her smirk as she takes her mouth off him to plant kisses along his length.

"I am sure we can get you nice and hard again. I plan to have my fun more than twice this evening, batboy." She licks her way back up.

Cassian sits up and takes her face. Nes pouts her fun being put to its end. Cassian smirks and leans in to kiss her deeply, which she melts back into quickly. Kissing used to be off-limits in this arrangement, but that to was no longer a thing.

Cassian takes her hips and moves her, so she straddles him. He runs his hands up to her breasts and pinches her nipples to get another moan out of this beautiful woman. How lucky for him to have a woman in his bed that he didn't need to take out on dates? He's sure though that if he took Nesta out, took her to see one of those god awful romcoms, deep down inside of him, he would like that. He deepens the kiss, trying to bury away these horrible thoughts out of his mind. He wouldn't want to ruin the kind of relationship (whatever this was) because he wanted to add emotions to it.

Nesta pulls back and sighs as she finally sits down on his dick. Cassian lets a hiss out between his teeth. She was so warm when he's deep inside of her. Which was very different from the Nesta he knows, the ice princess that gave cold shoulders to everyone along with those devastating icy glares.

"Work," she begins to complain, "was so crappy. I hate it when Casper talks to me as if I am two years old." She lifts her hips and sinks back down Cassian bites his lip half-listening to Nesta as she circles her hips when he is once again fully in her.

"And Tomas asked me out again." Cassian stiffens. In their pact, they said that once they have decided to try dating again this beautiful, arrangement would end—no more mind-blowing sex. No more head messages, blowjobs and no more tasting her with his tongue. No more hanging out in his apartment watching basketball or listening to Nesta's talk about work and her current books she's reading. No more giving Nesta foot messages after she takes off those overly tall heels she insists on wearing. No more pizza and spending Saturdays in bed worshipping her like the goddess she is.

Cassian takes a nipple in his mouth, playfully bitting it before licking away the pain. He was trying to hide his discomfort of the thought of going back to Nesta, hating him. The awkward family dinners at his brother's place, pretending to ignore Feyre's attempt to read his feeling towards her sister. Having to pretend that he was cool and that he never really thought this arrangement would ever last. But the truth is that he never wanted it to end.

"He can't get the fucking hint that I want nothing to do with him. How many times," she fastens her pace nudged on by Cassian's teasings on her sensitive nipples. "must I have to say no before he gets the hint. Cas, harder."

Cassian places his hands behind him so he could meet her hips with his thrusts. He watches her bend her head back, groaning out her pleasure. He lays back down and reaches his hands back to her clitoris. He needed her to climax again before he finishes. She leans back. How can a woman be so perfect? He must be the luckiest man in the world.

"Cas, oh, Cassian. You feel so good." How can she says thing like that to him and not catch feelings? Egged on, he rubs harder, and she shakes moaning out his name. "Cassian, fuck, Cas I-I lo- oh god," Nesta pants leaning forward to capture his lips before he flips them. He takes Nesta leg and hoists it over his shoulder, not breaking their kiss.

"Nes, sweetheart, you feel so fucking good," he huffs between kisses. Nesta drags her nails down his back, and he is putty, "you feel so fucking good."

"Cas. Cas, cum for me," she breaks their kiss and stares at him with her stormy grey eyes. Whatever she wants, he will give. And so with a final, "Nesta," he comes undone. Nesta smiles brightly and pulls at his bottom lip playfully.

"Good first round," she says as Cassian rolls off of her and gets up. She says it like it was a soccer game, congratulating her teammate. He winks at her over his shoulder as he takes off his condom to deposit in the bathroom garbage.

He comes back into his room, seeing Nesta sitting with her back on the headboard on her side of his bed. Because of course, she has her own side next to the window. In her hand is a novel. She's now sporting his t-shirt that she yanked off of him only mere minutes ago, with the duvet pulled up her legs for warmth. She was going to be the death of him. He walks over to her side and tugs on the hem of his shirt, trying to get her attention.

"You're not wearing pants," Nesta says, not looking up from her novel.

Cassian chuckles, "you seen the goods whats to hide for. Nothing to be ashamed of." He looks at Nesta with a smirk. She lifts her book higher. "I thought we're having another round." How could she possibly read when he has the perfect distraction? He couldn't even think of anything when Nesta was in any state of undress near him.

"I was waiting for you; you took a while in the bathroom," she says, placing her book on her nightstand. Her smile is devilish. She leans toward Cassian with a wink before pressing her lips to his.

They kiss for a while. It was less than a peck to start the mode and more of making out and forgetting about the fucking part. Cassian leans her back down on the bed and just kisses her senselessly. She nips her lips before Cassian peppers his kisses down her jaw to her long neck. She moves her head to give him access. "You're so good with your mouth," she sighs. Cassian smiles into her throat. She probably knows the amount of power she has over him by this point. She was making him ooey-gooey inside and out. How his arms give out, and his stomach is full of butterflies.

He moves back to her lips and deepens their kiss. "You're wearing my shirt," he says.

"It looks better on me," she replies. No argue there. She looks fantastic in his clothes. He slides his hands towards the hem of his shirt to remove it off of her. As his finger touch her hips, his phone begins to ring. "Don't," Nesta starts, gripping his hair to keep his face on her neck, "pick up the fucking phone."

Cassian huffs, he really doesn't want to pick up his phone, but he was on call. He bites her lip, getting her to loosen her grip so he can sit up. "Cas," she whines. Nesta never whines. Cassian had to restrain himself before he pounced to make her feel better. He leans over to his side of the bed to pick up his charging cellphone. Azriel's name pops up.

"Hey, Az," Cassian greets with a gruff voice. He really didn't want to pick up his phone. From the corner of his eyes, he sees Nesta pinching her nipples through his shirt. That fucking minx. Her eyes are dark as she watched him with a devious smirk. "Can you make this quick."

"Cas, Rhys has ordered an urgent meeting at his place. He needs assistants with a possible firewall breach, and he needs his people here as soon as possible."

Cassian closes his eyes; he opens to flick over to Nesta, who had moved his duvet off her lap so she can show him his true home. Her fingers circle her clitoris, her eyes questioning why he hasn't ended the call.

"I'll be there," Cassian finally says, watching Nesta raise an eyebrow.

"See you in a bit." Az line goes dead.

Nesta removes her hands from her clit when Cassian gets up and starts to gather clean clothes. "So, I guess tonight's entertainment is over," Nesta sighs, also getting up. She removes his shirt off of herself. She picks up her underwear and slips them on. Cassian passes her a wrinkly blouse and her pencil skirt.

"There's a potential security breach at work, and they need me to attend a meeting to plan our next steps. Trust me, I wish we could continue," his voice holds promise as he watches Nesta hoist up her skirt, tugging it over her magical ass. He wished he could have lied, said he wasn't feeling well. But he was too loyal, a fault that Nesta bullies him on. "I would ask you to stay, but I don't know how long this is going to be."

The idea of having Nesta waiting in his bed for him to come home made his dick strain against his boxers. He fixes his dick before he slips on his slacks. He can feel Nesta's eyes on his ass. She enjoyed his body as much as he enjoyed hers.

"It's fine; I should head home," Nesta moves towards the door to go to the living room where her shoes and bag were. Cassian grasps Nesta's elbow lightly before she leaves.

"You are coming by sometime this weekend?" She was a drug, and this little fix he had with her was not enough to sustain him till next Friday.

"We'll have to see. Feyre is hosting brunch this Sunday. Maybe we'll see each other." Cas gives her a wicked smirk. See each other; they will. His mind goes back to the last rendezvous they had at Feyre and Rhysand's townhouse. The sneaking around to the upstairs bathroom to have a quick dirty fuck on the bathroom counter because he couldn't keep his hands and his eyes off of her. He needed her so badly when she somehow was able to play onesided footsie during breakfast, how she would catch glances at him when no one was looking. He wasn't so lucky with the knowing looks coming from both Az and Feyre, who apparently knew he was in deep shit.

His eyes darken as he pulls her closer, catching her lips to his. He almost forgets that he has to put on his shirt and head over to the office when Nesta opens her lips to him. Her tongue ran against his. He breaks away his breathing heavy. "You wicked, wicked woman." He takes her hand and places it over his erection that was restricted in his slacks. Slacks that she picked out for him. She smiles and kisses his lips again.

"Can you wait till Sunday to fuck me?" She asks with a knowing look. He grunts as she strokes him through his pants. "I am sure my batboy can wait." She ruins him when she says things like that—claiming him when she doesn't want anything but his cock and mouth. He sometimes likes to think that they were together when she claims him like that. That he was her's alone, which he was since this arrangement started, he hadn't thought of taking another woman when he had already found his match.

"They can wait another half an hour. Let me in you one last time," he almost begs, leaning in for another kiss. She leans back and turns to leave his room.

"Sunday, batboy. I look forward to it." She sways her ass as she leaves. Cassian sighs and once again adjust himself before looking for a sweater that could hide his bulge.

#nessian #acotar #nesta archeron #cassian #friends with benefits au #acotar fanfiction

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mybiasisexo · 3 years

Text

Target

Genre: Angst | Mafia!au

Pairing: None

Length: 3.5k

Warning: Language | Violence | Unfinished | OC | 1st Person

Summary: A year after her last mission, Dragen has a lot to prove to both her company and herself, but when she begins to grow closer to her next target, she realizes she might be a little too soft for her current career....

Author’s Note: Started this in like 2014 I believe and this is all I wrote, probably won’t ever finish it, but you know how it issss.

MASTERLIST

Work:

Chen and I are standing outside a deserted brick building in downtown next to an equally deserted train track.

“You think you’re so brave,” Chen chuckles, rolling his eyes.

“I am,” I say, smirking.

“Then prove it.”

Now I’m the one to roll my eyes, “you’re such a troll.”

A knowing smile grows across my face as I pull out the sleek glock 22 from inside my jacket and cock the gun. When it is ready, I place the barrel in my mouth.

Chen starts laughing before growing serious as he grasps the grip, placing his index finger confidently onto the trigger.

“What are you going to do now, Dragen?” He asks me gravelly, but I spot a hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth.

In reply, I pull my lips back, flashing him my pearly teeth, with a few gold teeth as well.

At that moment, a black van pulls up and a shorter dark haired man walks out of the driver’s side.

“Alright, guys. That’s enough,” he orders, and Chen laughs again as I pull away from the lethal weapon, wiping the saliva that had started to drip off my chin.

“I can’t leave you two alone without you fooling around. I’m surprised we ever get anything done,” the man, Kyungsoo, mutters.

“Oh please,” I say. “You know that this ‘business’ would crumble if not for us.”

“Not to mention your sense of humor,” Chen grins brightly. His lips stretch even further when Kyungsoo glares viciously at him.

After clearing his throat, Kyungsoo gets down to business, “the guy we are looking for is named Wu Yifan, but he goes by Kris. Rumor has it, he’s discovered some very…interesting information about our contractor that can ruin their business. We must capture him and figure out what he knows.”

“So are we going to get him today or…?” Chen asks.

Kyungsoo shakes his head, “no. Today, you two are just going to find and observe. Get a good feel of him so that we can figure out how to approach him.”

Chen and I nod once in unison. Kyungsoo reaches into his jacket and pulls out a small picture, holding it out for the two of us to see. The picture is in black and white and shows the side of a man’s face, he seems to be about the same age as us.

“This is our guy. Find him, study him, and report your findings back to me. Understood?”

“Affirmative,” I reply, sliding my glock back into its hiding place.

“Alright. Good luck.” Kyungsoo heads back into his van and peels out, causing dirt to waft around us.

We cough and choke on the dirt. Once it clears we glance at each other.

“I was really hoping we would kill someone today,” Chen pouts and sighs.

I take a deep breath and let it go harshly, placing my hands on my hips, “not today. Looks like we’re spying.”

“I feel so degraded. Isn’t this Sehun’s job?”

I smack his arm, “behave.”

Chen pouts again, rubbing his arm, “let’s go.”

~*~

Twenty minutes later, Chen and I find ourselves sitting at a park, watching a basketball game.

Our boy, Yifan, is attempting to play. He’s pretty good, at least, he’s very confident.

“He has literally missed every single shot he’s thrown,” Chen says, voice filled with mild disbelief.

I sigh, “How the hell did this guy uncover vital information about our contractor that can destroy them?”

“He had to stumble upon it. There’s no way….”

Yifan tosses the ball at the basket again, Chen and I tilt our heads to the side as the ball bounces off the backboard and soars back to Yifan, who ducks just in time.

“Pathetic,” Chen says. “Should we teach him a thing or two?”

I shake my head, “we must stay in shadow mode. We need to figure him out so that we can find a way to approach him.”

“You’re right. I just feel so bad for the man.”

“At least he looks hot while doing it.”

Chen is silent and I glance over at him. He is staring at me incredulously.

“What?” I pout.

“Your taste in men is quite appalling,”

“Yeah, especially since this one cannot stay.” I pull the sunglasses that are resting on the top of my head down to my eyes and stand. “Should we go?”

“Do you think we’ve gathered enough information?”

I shrug, “No. But I’m tired and he’s boring. Maybe they got the wrong guy.”

“We never make mistakes, Dragen, you know that.”

“Ilhoon will be worried. I promised him I’d be home early tonight.”

“What’s going on between you two anyway?”

“He’s my best friend,” I breathe.

“If he were your best friend, he’d know what you have been doing for the past five years. You’re lying to him.”

“You know that this profession calls for us to lie to everyone that matters, or else they’ll get hurt.”

Chen just shakes his head, “let’s wait one more hour. Hopefully he’ll go home, and you can peep on him taking a hot shower.”

I think about Chen’s offer. It is true that we haven’t gotten much on this Kris guy—except for the fact that he’s a terrible basketball player—and after my last assignment, I cannot afford to call it a day. “One more hour.”

Chen salutes and we get settled once again on the bench.

Yifan misses again.

~*~

“We’ve gathered that he likes to play sports, basketball in particular, though he isn’t very good.”

“Also, he enjoys eating jelly filled donuts and is quite clumsy, being that he got the jelly all over his shirt.”

“In a nutshell. This man is pathetic, and could possibly be molded like putty in Dragen’s hands,” Chen finishes with a smirk.

Kyungsoo’s wide eyes bounce back and forth between Chen and I. Finally he sighs and leans back in his chair, “alright. You two are dismissed. I’ll report your minuscule findings to the boss and he’ll let us know where to continue with this mission.”

Chen and I both rise to go but then Kyungsoo asks me to stay behind. Chen and I lock eyes and I can sense the worry in his gaze, but he leaves nonetheless, he has no choice.

I settle back down into my chair and wait for Kyungsoo to speak. He leans forward, folding his hands in front of him. His tan suit is a size too big for him and he looks like a son pretending to be his father at his office.

“Suho is still worried about your well-being, Dragen,” he starts and I try not to roll my eyes. “He wants to make sure you won’t turn on us again. You haven’t killed anyone since Minho, and giving you such a big assignment after your near failure causes him to worry.”

I bite my lip. Just hearing his name rips me up inside, causes tears to form in my eyes. I take a deep breath and suck it back in, tape myself quickly back together so that I’m not exposed.

“So what do you suggest?” I question.

Kyungsoo opens a drawer and pulls out a manila folder, sliding it over to me.

“It’s a small mission. Just a man who was trading secrets of the South to the North. He’s on the run, right on the border, but they pinned him and have been watching him. His expiration date is tomorrow at noon, and then it’s a free for all. The government wants him disposed of before then.”

I skim through his profile. Kim Minseok, thirty years old, he was an officer in our military and apparently pretty high up. I wonder what caused him to betray the country in such a way.

“Do you think you can handle it?”

I allow myself this eye roll, “I can handle it.”

Kyungsoo nods and I see a hint of a smile pull at the side of his face, “good.”

I rise and walk quickly out of his office. Sometimes that man gives me the chills. It isn’t like I think he’d hurt me or anything, but I know that he can be ruthless and is completely deadly. He’s a killing machine.

At around two in the morning, I find myself on top of an old abandoned building. It’s an extremely windy night, and my curly hair flies violently behind me. Quickly, I wrap my hair into a ponytail and resume my position: kneeling on one knee with my rifle resting on the edge of the building. I peek through the scope, scanning the area for Minseok. Finally, after an hour and a half, I catch movement. There he is, running through the deserted open road covered in filth. You’d have thought he’d know better. I mean, the man’s on the run, why is he running out in the open? Oh well, I can’t care less for the reasons behind his actions. All I care about is proving Suho and Kyungsoo wrong. I can be just as heartless as them, and I am going to prove it in three, two, one…

Bang!

The jolt from my rifle pushes me back and I stumble for a second as Minseok falls, out cold. Quickly, I snatch my weapon and run as fast as I can carrying the heavy equipment on my shoulder. Once I’m out the building, I yank out my glock and cautiously approach the man sprawled against the asphalt. I glance around me, all is clear. Minseok takes a quick breath and I jump.

“Please,” he whispers. I swallow hard as his eyes roll up to my face. “Please, I had to do it. I’m sorry. No one ever has a choice.”

“No,” I snap back at him. “There is always a choice, always a way out.”

“I guess you’ll find out soon….” He takes another breath, but doesn’t ever let it back out.

What was that?! No time to think about it. I have to leave the scene. I run over to my unmarked van and throw my rifle in the back, carefully maneuvering the vehicle so to not leave any marks. Once I am about forty miles out, I high sped it out of there. When I am at my safe spot—a dingy 24-hour gas station—I jump to the back and dismantle my weapon. Once it is put away, I drive back to the agency, switching the van for my own Dodge Neon and finally go home.

Pretenses:

He smiles and his front teeth shine against the darkness that surrounds us.

“You’re so beautiful when you’re shy,” he breathes, taking me all in.

I smirk, pretending to be brave, “your flattery isn’t really working, Minho.”

“Oh yeah?” He growls and presses himself closer to me, causing both my heart to race and a moan to escape. His smile widens with satisfaction.

“I love you,” he murmurs against the skin of my collarbone.

Don’t say that, I think. All the same, I smile and answer back to him, “I love you too, Minho.”

“Good,” he snaps, his voice serious and deep with lust. “Because you’re mine, Baby. For forever.”

I awake with tears in my eyes. I’m still dreaming of him, a whole year later. I don’t think I’ll ever not dream of him, of the man who showed me what real love felt like.

I check the time and jump up and run to my closet until I freeze. Today is Sunday, I have today off.

I sigh and lean against my closet doorframe filled with relief. Something unhinged me about my last mission, something about the way Minseok had just given up, about what he said to me. A sense of fear crawls up my throat like a premonition and I swallow it back fiercely. I’m overreacting. Maybe Suho and Kyungsoo are right about me, maybe I am becoming soft.

I step out of my room and bump into Ilhoon. His arms encircle me and he takes a step back, catching us.

“Whoa, there,” he murmurs, chuckling as we pull away. “Good morning to you too, Dray.”

I rub my forehead and sigh, “sorry.”

“Busy night?” He asks. He starts walking away and I follow him to the kitchen, plopping on a chair as he pulls out two bowls from the cabinet. “You didn’t get in until late…”

I wince, “I’m sorry, Ilhoonie. I know you want me to come home earlier, but my job is kicking my butt.”

“All you do is fix computers,” he scoffs and hands me a bowl filled with chocolate cereal—our favorite.

“You’d be surprised how complicated fixing a computer can be. First you have to find the problem, and then you have to check the entire database and make sure all of the files and other information won’t get lost and then—”

“Alright, alright. I believe you,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re going to give me a headache with all that computer talk.”

“Sorry,” I mutter. I’m not feeling very well today, and Ilhoon can sense it.

“Well, you have today off, don’t you?” I nod. “Are you going up to your parents’ later?”

I nod again, “Zelo’s birthday is tomorrow so we’re celebrating it tonight. Are you going to come too?”

Ilhoon shrugs, “I am practically family. Plus, I haven’t seen Zelo in a while. How old is he turning?”

“Nineteen,” I gulp. My little brother is becoming a man today, and I’d be lying if I didn’t say I was terrified.

Ilhoon laughs, “remember us at nineteen? We went wild on our birthday!” Ilhoon and I share the same birthday, hence why we are so close.

I shudder, “that is exactly why I am nervous. I don’t want Yongguk anywhere near him after ten.”

Ilhoon’s eyes darken, but he doesn’t say anything. We finish our breakfast in silence and I help him wash the dishes.

“It’s almost twelve, get ready,” he orders as he heads to his room.

I sigh and roll my eyes. Ilhoon is very religious. If there is one thing he loves, it’s the lord. One of the requirements of living with him is that I have to accompany him to Sunday mass every week.

Once there, we sit in a pew near the middle and listen to the word. The father preaches about God’s love and undying devotion, but I don’t feel any reassurance.

I’m no angel. I’m the opposite, in fact. I’ve committed too many sins to be forgiven and I know there is nothing pleasant waiting for me on the other side.

God gave up on me a long time ago.

~*~

After mass, Ilhoon and I head over to my parents’ house. The place is packed with all of Zelo’s friends. Once my father sees me, he beams and wraps me in a hug. Since my life is so busy with work, I don’t see my family often. It has been a few weeks since Zelo and I have talked, and months since my parents’ and I have.

“Where’s Zelo?” I practically yell into my father’s ear. The music is so loud I can feel it more than hear it.

“In the living room, AKA the ‘dance floor’.” My father rolls his eyes and chuckles at my silly brother. I nod and snatch Ilhoon’s hand, dragging him with me to the living room.

In the middle of the room, surrounded by a semi-circle is the birthday boy. He’s busting all kinds of moves and I roll my eyes—I taught that kid practically everything he knows.

#exo scenarios #exo scenario #exo drabble #exo drabbles #exo fanfic #exo fanfics #exo oneshot #exo oneshots #chanyeol #chen #kris wu

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amazingmsme · 4 years

Text

Music So Sweet

AN: Me writing an actual prompt instead of my own ideas no one asked for? It’s more likely than you think. Great Comet is way underappreciated, so I hope you enjoy!

Pierre sat at the bar nursing his glass of vodka. Across the club, he watched as Anatole wooed a couple of women by serenading them with his violin. As much as the young man got on his nerves, he had to hand it to him; the kid could play. And as much as he hated to admit it, they were family. Dolokhov leant against the wall rolling his eyes looking extremely bored. His eyes scanned over the room before casting his gaze downward to stare at his drink. He swirled it in his hand, glancing back up towards his friend. Anatole had promised him a night on the town in celebration of yet another duel he'd won, but instead shrugged him off for some random women.

He always did this to him, and quite frankly it was pissing Dolokhov off. He met eyes with Pierre and pointed at Anatole before making a choking motion. The man simply chuckled and shook his head.

He turned his head to the side watching the girls lean against the counter and look at the musician with dreamy eyes. It made him sick. Of course he would've been fine if he had a pretty girl himself, but Anatole had easily whisked both of them away and dazzled them with his skill. Anything he tried to do to impress them now would surely fall flat in comparison.

Dolokhov smirked as he formed an evil idea, and he reached forward, tweaking his friend's sides. Anatole jumped with a squeal, the bow striking a particularly sour note on the violin. He whipped around and fixed him with a hard glare.

"Excuse me, do you mind? I'm with company," he said, willing a blush off his face. Dolokhov snorted.

"Indeed you are. Might I remind you with whom you came?" he said, pointing at himself.

"Don't need reminding, I just found better company," he winked at him and slapped his shoulder. Dolokhov's mouth hung open as Anatole turned his back on him and back to the ladies.

"I'm sorry, where were we?" He went back to playing, pulling the bow across the strings in a beautiful song. Dolokhov looked at Pierre in bewilderment. The older man shrugged his shoulders, unable to suppress the chuckles escaping his mouth. Granted, it wouldn't be as funny without the alcohol in his system. He mouthed, "Try again." And so he did. Just as Anatole raised his bow again, he lurched out and shoved his elbow, forcing him to mess up once more. The girls seemed slightly amused, if not a little annoyed that the song had been interrupted.

"Pardon me ladies," the blonde excused himself and grabbed Dolokhov by the arm and ushered him away. "Just what is your problem?" he snapped. He bit his lip to conceal his grin, doing a poor job of it.

"Nothing. I'm just surprised you even acknowledged me at all," he snarked. Realization washed over Anatole's face and he laughed.

"Dolokhov you never cease to amuse me. I assure you that we'll have as much fun and as many drinks as we want as soon as I'm done with these fine ladies. I'm sure you can find one yourself to keep you busy," he brushed his friend off as easy as sand on dry skin.

Dolokhov sneered, "No I think I'm fine right here." With those words he planted himself, knowing he wouldn't move from this spot just to spite Anatole. Said man rolled his eyes at the dramatics and spun around to face the two women. He picked up his playing and smooth talking seamlessly, smiling as they soon became putty in his hands.

Pierre was intrigued in where this would go. To an outsider it was obvious just how thin Dolokhov's patience was growing, and even Anatole could only be so oblivious. He sipped from his glass and watched the scene.

Dolokhov waited for the right moment and reached out with his leg, delivering a decisive kick to the back of his knee. His legs buckled and he nearly dropped his instrument, but managed to catch it in a fumble. This seemed to be the last straw for the blonde as he faced the larger man who sported an amused grin.

"Seriously, what's your deal? You should be celebrating your win not ruining my chances in bed," Anatole scolded. His friend merely smirked, "Messing with you is as good as any celebration I could possibly have." To prove his point, he reached out and poked his side. He twitched away with a slight giggle.

"Alright you had your fun, now let me have mine," he tried to turn away, but a strong hand on his shoulder prevented him from doing so. He was twirled back around, suddenly feeling very much trapped.

"Trust me, this will be fun," Dolokhov promised with a wink before wrapping an arm around his slender frame and used his hand to dig into his waist. Anatole tried to hold back his laughter, but only lasted all of about three seconds before the damn burst. The ladies watched on in amusement, giggling at his reactions.

Anatole's cheeks couldn't possibly be any redder. He was unsure of whether to push his friend away or to use his hands to hide his blush. In the end he did neither and instead flailed his arms around uselessly. He came close to elbowing Dolokhov in the face.

"Stohohop! Please!" he pleaded. Anatole saw himself as too good for most things, but he was certainly not above begging. His friend tilted his head teasingly.

"Why? If I'm going to stop, I'll need a good reason."

"Ihihit's embarrassihihing! And it tihihickles!" he complained amidst his mirth. Dolokhov chuckled and shook his head fondly.

"Well I'd hope so! That was my point after all," he teased, working his fingers up his sides. By now the ladies had moved on, leaving the men at their play. With the loss of their company, they gained that of another as Pierre walked up. The older, often somber man had an unusual pep in his step as he wandered closer. What was really odd was the abnormally playful smirk he sported, a gleam of mischief lit up his eyes that hadn't been there for years. Upon seeing his brother in law, Anatole thought he was saved and cried out for his help.

"Pierre help me!"

The smile on his face only grew as he leant against the wall and Anatole realized he was not there on his behalf.

"Bold of you to assume I think you deserve my help," he said, taking a swig from his glass. Dolokhov barked out a triumphant laugh.

"See? Pierre agrees with me, you only brought this on yourself." He ignored his indignant cries through his squeals.

"Whahat did Ihihi do?" he asked, still oblivious to his flippant and borderline rude behavior. Dolokhov snorted, shocked that his friend could be so dumb. Wait no, he takes that back, this is to be expected.

"This is what you get for ignoring me all night while we were supposed to be celebrating!" He shifted his hand to skitter between Anatole's shoulder blades and a loud scream of laughter filled the air. He gestured for Pierre to help him out. "Mind giving me a hand here?"

The older man glanced around the club, shaking his head. "Nah, too many people staring. I'll let you have your fun."

"Oh come on, you know you want to wreck the little shit for everything he's done, live a little," Dolokhov encouraged. He did have a point, there were many times in which Pierre wished he could put the arrogant ass in his place.

Anatole looked up at him with mirthful teary eyes, struggling to fight off his friend's hands. "Plehehease dohohon't," he pleaded. Pierre had to bite his lip to keep from grinning so wide as he set his drink down. That was all it took for the blonde to know he was utterly screwed. His squirming increased and he weakly shoved at Dolokhov's hands. Pierre stood before the trapped and giggling man, making a show of cracking his knuckles. His laughter and squirming only increased once he saw this.

Pierre added his hands into the mix of the wonderful torment and it wasn't long until Anatole's knees buckled. He leaned back against his supposed best friend for support, mouth hanging open in loud laughter. Dolokhov smirked and bent down, sweeping his legs out from under him so that he was holding him bridal style. Anatole shrieked at the sudden movement and his face flushed at the position he was in. He smacked at his chest, "Put me down!"

"Sorry, no can do. You looked like you were about to faint, and I can't let that happen."

Anatole rolled his eyes, "You wouldn't have to worry about that if you hadn't tortured me."

Pierre spoke up, "Oh it wasn't so bad. And between us, it'll do you some good to get knocked off your high horse every once in a while."

"You're always mean to me, dear brother."

Pierre simply hummed, neither confirming nor denying the statement, but acknowledging it nonetheless. With that, he patted his shoulder, picking his drink back up and tilting it their way in a subtle goodbye. "Maybe next time you'll think twice before ignoring your friend."

"Yeah," Dolokhov interjected as he set him back on his feet. "Now, what do you say we continue my celebration with another round of drinks?"

"I'd say lead the way." And he did.

#anatole kuragin #fedya dolokhov #pierre bezukhov #npatgco1812 #great comet #great comet fic #great comet tickle fic #ticklish!anatole

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battle-scarred-raven · 5 years

Text

RvB CarWash Fanfic: We Will Take It (Pt. 5)

Title: We Will Take It

Part: 5

Rating: Mature/Explicit (Canon typical Language, and things get pretty intimate later on)

Pairing: Carolina/Wash (other pairings acknowledged/hinted at)

Summary: When the shot comes along this time, dear Carolina, you will take it.

Inspired by Blood Gulch Blue from Singularity’s Soundtrack.

—

This isn't your first rodeo with another person.

Hell, it isn't even your first time with Wash. That had been been back after Hargrove had been defeated, and the war on Chorus had finally ended. You all partied hard, Tucker decided to activate the Temple of Procreation, because of course he did, and you had ended up with Wash. Kimball had come and joined you both later, something you allowed, because you’d have been lying if you told yourself that you didn't have a little bit of a thing for the former General. Wash had been okay with it, you all used protection, you all enjoyed yourselves.

Nothing more had been said about it, even now. You knew nothing could ever happen between you and Kimball again. Your lives were heading in two different directions; you were supposedly retiring and she had a whole planet to run as President now. But you couldn't help but secretly hope, dear Carolina, that something might happen between you and Wash again.

After everything you've been through together, you never imagine your wish might be granted. But it is; this is happening. Right here, right now.

Your movements with Wash are nowhere near your usual, dominant self. You have to constantly remind yourself that he is recovering still, that you need to take it slow with him. You want this, of course you do, but not at the cost of Wash’s wellbeing.

“David?” You murmur between languid kisses. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

“I'm sure.” He answers, without hesitation.

“If I'm going too fast for you…-”

“Iz…” he cuts you off before you can finish, nuzzling your cheek lightly with the tip of his nose, “If I didn't want this as much as you do, then we wouldn't be doing this right now.”

“I know, I know.” You eventually relent quietly. “I just… don't want to hurt you accidentally.”

“You could never hurt me, Iz. We trust each other too much for that.”

But I did hurt you, you don't say. You don't want to reopen that wound and ruin the moment. You’ve already both talked about that back in the Everwhen, about why you had done what you had done. You didn't need to go over all that. Not again.

So you just kiss Wash once more, gently pushing him towards the bed. He surprisingly resists you, his calloused hands wandering down your body, grasping at the hem of your shirt. You don't fight it when he pulls back from you to remove the garment in one easy motion. You also can't help the shudder that courses through you as the cool air meets your suddenly bare skin.

“You’re… so beautiful, Iz.” He comments genuinely, idly running his hand along your exposed skin, tracing scars along the way. He looks almost thoughtful, like he's reminiscing old memories.

“I'm… really not-” you begin, only for your breath to hitch mid-sentence as Wash crouches down, slowly kissing down the side of your body.

You reach down, ruffling his grizzled blonde hair affectionately. You gasp and shudder again as his starts kissing your stomach, stopping just short above the line of your jeans. Your fingers curl deep into his hair instinctively.

“God, David…” You breathe heavily. If Wash could leave you like this now, Carolina, what were you going to be like after the main show?

An absolute mess, your brain supplies helpfully. In the best possible way.

A tugging at your at your trousers snaps you from your thoughts. You look down, only to see Wash staring up at you with questioning, almost puppy like eyes.

“May I?” His question is a soft, barely audible whisper, which is almost enough to make you melt right there and then.

“Only if you lose some clothes first.” You answer him, a slight smirk tugging at your lips.

A thoughtful look crosses his features, considering your proposition. “Okay.”

He rises, and your hands fall to his shirt. You give him a quick kiss before you start to remove the article of clothing, deliberately slow. When you are done, you throw the shirt behind you, next to yours. You repeat the slow motions of your hands against his battle-scarred skin next, drawing a soft whine from the other Freelancer.

“C-Carolina…” He struggles, stumbling over your codename. “D-Damn, Iz…”

You didn't think you would have that effect on Wash. It's been so long since you've let yourself go like this. The temple was nearly two years ago now, and that had just been a frenzy. Before that had been York, way back in Project Freelancer.

York. The thought of his name catches you off-guard for a moment. Wash notices something up with you immediately.

“You okay, Carolina?” He asks you quietly, his arms hugging your waist as he gazes at you in concern.

“It's nothing.” You are quick to assure him. “Just a memory, is all.”

He doesn't pry, bless him. You both know each other well enough by now to know what things elicit pain in you and the things that haunt you each night. No, he just just kisses you again, hands wandering up your back to unhook your bra. You let it fall down at your feet once he loosens the straps off, watching as his blue eyes drink you in.

You expect to feel vulnerable, with the top half of your body naked like this, but with Wash you feel completely safe and barely exposed at all. It feels… almost natural, and that thought makes you chew your lip in barely restrained excitement. If you weren’t aroused before, you definitely are now.

“It’s okay, Wash.” You whisper gently to him, realising belatedly that he’s waiting for your permission to continue. “You can touch me, if you want.”

There’s a slight delay before Wash responds. Not with words, but by moving his hands from your back straight to your breasts. Your breath hitches as he massages both mounds alternately, first the left side, then the other. He squeezes both firmly after that, his thumbs gliding over your nipples, and you don’t even try to stop the breathy moan that falls from your lips without your permission.

“F-fu…-” The swear almost escapes your mouth, but that you do manage to stop. It wasn’t that you never swore; you just saw no need to most of the time. “God. Do that again…”

He obliges you, making more of an effort to play with your nipples this time. You never realised how sensitive they were until they met Wash’s seemingly expert hand. You are practically putty in his hands, to be moulded any which way he chose, and right now Wash is making you melt bonelessly against him.

Somewhere in your lust-filled mind, you dimly register Wash whining and groaning close to your ear. It doesn’t hit you why, not at first, until you are abruptly and acutely aware of something hard poking you in the thigh. You feel yourself blush slightly as the dots finally connect. Is he turned on just by the groaning, or is it specifically the fact that those sounds were coming from you?

You aren’t allowed to wonder for long as Wash starts kissing and sucking at your neck, drawing more sounds from you. Your fingers claw into his back, certain to leave marks. He hisses slightly, but doesn’t tell you to stop, lightly sinking his teeth into your skin. You deliberately grind against his erection with the inside of your thigh, and the teeth sink in a little deeper as Wash hisses again. You let out a soft gasp at the sudden sharp pain and you actually feel the other Freelancer wince and pull away.

“Shit, I’m sorry!” He apologises quickly. “I… I didn’t mean to… It’s just, your leg…”

You ruffle his hair gently, spiking it in all directions. “It’s fine, Wash.”

“But… you’re bleeding.” He points out, making to pull away.

You stop him, tugging him back with a sharp pull of your hand on his wrist. Your emerald eyes flick down to gaze at where he had bitten you and yes, he was indeed right. You were bleeding. You would never have noticed, not before he had pointed it out to you.

“It’s nothing.” You shake your head; not entirely true, it stings like shit now you are focusing on it but you don’t want to worry Wash further. “I’ve hurt myself doing far stupider things during training.”

He gives you a wide-eyed look, like he’s trying to work out whether you are being serious or not. “Wait… really?”

“Yeah.”

“But you trained with holo-targets.” Now his eyebrow raises; the result is almost comedic to you, Carolina. “How does that even work?”

“You’d… be surprised.”

A chuckle escapes you. Wash joins in shortly thereafter, and you both laugh for a full minute. It’s a sound you find you rather enjoy, and a moment you will treasure. Just laughing about silly little things like this.

“Trust you to make even the training targets hurt.” Wash snorts loudly, tucking a strand of your fiery red hair behind your ear before he shakes his head at you, a big grin on his face.

You smash your lips into his in order to wipe the smug expression from him, but Wash is more than ready for it. His hands grip your hips, pushing down your jeans and underwear until they pool at your ankles, whereupon you kick them off haphazardly. Your own hands quickly make equally short work of the pair of joggers Wash was wearing.

“Iz…” He thumbs your jawline.

You gaze up at him. “Hm?”

He doesn’t answer again, merely threading his fingers through your hair, gently pulling it from its ponytail, allowing it all to flow messily behind your back. He looks like he wants to say something, but he refrains. You know that look; it usually meant that he had a sentence, but had forgotten what it was, and was about to say something else.

He soon proves you correct. “Your hair is so… smooth.” He ruffles his fingers in it for a little longer, something that you find comforting. “It’s really nice.”

“Mmmhm.” You hum, closing your eyes in content. “I like it when you do that.”

“I’ll be sure to do it more often, then.” His hand shifts from your hair back to one of your breasts again, fondling it slightly. “Are you ready for this?”

“God, yes,” you nod your head vigorously, “though I feel like I should be asking you that.”

“If we take it slow, I think I will be fine.” He reassures you.

You lightly push him down onto the bed. You will take that.

#outofravens #f; we will take it #agent carolina #agent washington #rvb carwash #rvb fanfic #rvb #fanfic #n s f w text

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ghostface-babe · 5 years

Text

A/N: This was a ghostface dream I had a while ago. Figured I’d post it from my notes and turn it into a little something (:

Pairing: ghostface x reader (I have a mask kink, so yes it might be Billy or Stu under the mask, but in my dream I saw him as just ghostface - as his own person)

Warning: • NSFW (straight up smut dream) • degrading kink • using a weapon as a toy • some brief mentions of violence • pet names • ghostface being a dominating little fuck !!

Summary: You were getting ready for bed when a strange man called you on your cell. You usually would’ve hung up and ignored him, but after hearing his first words, you were putty in his hands.

“Hello y/n.” He said in his deep, gravely voice. The raspiness of it made your insides flutter, your heart thudding so loud in your ears you were afraid he could hear it. You didn’t have to ask who was calling. You knew that voice, it was ghostface.

“That little band shirt you got on, I like it..but I think it’d look a lot better on your bedroom floor.” He laughed menacingly. You could feel his smirk through the phone. You took a weary glance down at your shirt. It fell just to the tops of your thighs. You squeezed your legs together, the warmth between them becoming a bit uncomfortable.

“What’s the matter baby, cat got your tongue?” His tone dialing down to a sexy whisper, still as raspy as before.

“What do you want from me?” You finally asked, your voice a lot shakier than you anticipated.

“You.” was all he said, your flesh burning against the phone in your hand.

“I’ve been watching you for quite some time, waiting for the right moment. I’ve seen you in your room running your cute, little fingers around your body while you try to hold in all your adorable sounds.”

“I want to make you scream. I want you to be my little toy.”

You were blushing like crazy, unable to fuse together any words that would make sense. It was all too much; the danger of the situation making your stomach flip, yet you craved it all.

You moved your hand down your stomach and traced over the fabric of your panties, gasping slightly at the instant contact you so desperately needed.

“Hmm, um what do you want to do to me?” You whispered, closing your eyes, and latching your teeth down onto your bottom lip, hoping he couldn’t hear what you were doing. Your fingers rubbed yourself over the thin cloth.

“Such a filthy slut, already becoming needy. You’ll see.”

With those words and a click, the line went dead. You opened your eyes, upset that this was all just a prank. Some mystery guy calling girls late at night just to freak them out- but you weren’t freaked out. A man had been watching you, knew what you were wearing, and you were turned on from it all. It was confusing and strange, yet you knew in your gut that you didn’t have to be scared.

You made sure the front door was locked before making your way up to your room, where you were headed to begin with. You tossed up your comforter before climbing into bed, staring at the ceiling, and trying to figure out what his last words meant.

After some time, you began to get sleepy. You closed your eyes, barely hearing your window slowly opening. Your back towards the tall man standing beside your bed.

When he perceeded to sit down on your bed, you jumped up in fear. Your eyes were fuzzy from the dark, squinting at the tall figure.

“shh, I told you I’d see you soon.” He said quietly, reaching a gloved finger to your lips.

You knew who it was, your heart rate accelerating once more. You bit your lip in fear while your eyes adjusted to the dark room.

It was him, your mystery caller. ‘A KILLER!’ your insides screamed, your brain telling you to leave but instead you moved closer to him, taking in his appearance.

He wore his long hooded black robe, black gloves, hunting boots, and his signature mask. A long hunting knife decorated his hand. Your curiousity got the best of you, finding yourself wondering who was under the mask. You didn’t want to ruin anything though, so instead you reached a shaky hand out to touch his hand.

“are you going to hurt me?” you trembled out, looking down at the knife in his long fingers.

He lifted your chin to look up at him, shaking his head before pushing you down on you back. He hovered slightly above you, carefully tracing the knife down your throat till it reached the top of your pajama shirt.

You gasped when he began cutting the shirt off you, tossing it aside once he was done. You covered your bare chest, wiggling your hips around subconsciously while he looked down at your semi nude body.

“I’m going to hurt you y/n, but not in the way you think. I’m going to wreck your pretty little cunt. Every time you touch yourself you’ll think of me.” his voice so raspy, you could’ve come undone right there and then.

He pressed his knife flat against your chest, flipping it around to rub the end of it against your erect nipples. Your hips bucked up again, moaning out quietly while he rubbed the knife against your skin.

He wanted to hear your sounds, needed to hear them. Your small moan fueling him to get you to make more. He leaned his masked face down, lifting the bottom of it up just a bit to expose his mouth. You placed your hand on the mask, causing him to grip both your arms with one hand and place them above your head.

He replaced his knife with his tongue, flicking it over your nipples. Your head rolled back in ecstasy, whimpering out profanities when he began nipping at them.

he smirked, sucking on them hard while you screamed out. The sound was music to his ears. His erection pressed itself into your thigh, making your own heat ache even more.

“Fuck, just fuck me plese.” You begged, arching your back up.

Your neediness made him even harder, but he wanted to make you beg some more. He was a tease and he was going to show you just how teasing he could be.

He shifted his body so his length was pressed against your panties, chuckling when you tried to wiggle your arms out of his grasp.

“Pretty little kitten’s so needy.” He smirked.

“Here’s the deal, I’m going to let your arms go, but don’t touch my mask. My identity is none of your business. I can’t risk you knowing who I am.” He said sternly.

You nodded before stuttering out, “I p-promise I’ll be good.”

“Good girl.” He cooed out, removing your hands from his grasp before moving his mouth down your stomach till it hit your hips. He threw your legs over his shoulders, kissing and licking the insides of your thighs while you dug your nails into his shoulders. He grunted against your skin, his tongue beginning to flick over your sensitive clit. Your back arched, your thighs shook, move profanities spilled from your lips.

“Ghostface please.”

He slid a finger into your tight heat, watching your reaction before sliding a second in. He loved your sounds, he wanted more. His fingers began thrusting inside you, his tongue dancing over your clit. He sucked on it while he inserted a third finger, your whimper causing him to groan against you. Your walls clenched down on his slender fingers, moaning while your first orgasm washed through your body. Your thighs trembled over his shoulders, your breathing heavy as he removed his fingers from you. He stuck them into his mouth tasting your juices.

“Such a good girl.” He cooed again, getting off on your innocence. The way you blushed and hid your face away from him made him want to devour you. Moving his way back up your body, he pulled his mask back into place before swiftly yanking his robe up, and freeing himself from his boxers.

He was massive, you could feel it against your thigh. You gasped when he didn’t give any warning, his length pushing into your pulsing heat. You whimpered out, your fingers finding his hair and tugging on it. “Fuck ah fuck,” you groaned out, one hand moving to dig your nails into his back.

He began to move slowly, getting you used to his size. He watched your reactions; when you bucked your hips up into his, he took it as his cue to quicken his pace. He pinched one of your nipples with his fingers, thrusting into you deep and quick.

You moaned and cursed, nails digging into his skin with so much force. You scratched his back, biting his shoulder while you met his thrusts in time with his own. You needed more, you wanted to try something.

“My turn.” You said breathlessly, rolling so you were on top of him. You tilted the bottom of his mask up slightly, his body tensing before relaxing again when you pressed your lips to his. He gripped your hips when you began bucking your hips into his, bouncing up and down on his cock.

“Mhm, such a good girl. My pretty little toy is being so good.” He groaned against your lips, thrusting up into you. You placed your hands on his chest, quickening your pace.

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion when he grabbed the knife that had been beside him, pressing the end against your thighs before inching it towards your center. He rubbed your clit with it, causing you to whimper out. The contact and fear overwhelmed you, making you clench down onto him before feeling your second orgasm take over your body. He groaned at the feeling, switching positions once more before gripping your hips and slamming into you. You screamed, letting him use you.

“Yea you like that little whore?” He asked smirking, repeatedly slamming deep into you.

“Such a filthy kitten, gonna get your cum all over my knife.” He groaned.

You saw stars, the overstimulation making you shake and pant.

His dirty words spilled off his lips like honey, making you wetter and wetter.

“My little toy.” He panted out, his pace stuttering while his thrusts became sloppier and sloppier.

“Mhm yea, cum for me kitten or I’ll gut you like a fucking fish.” He chuckled, making you scream. His threat threw you over the edge as a third orgasm filled your entire body. His following soon after. He removed himself from you, shooting his hot cum all over your stomach and chest causing you to groan.

He smirked at his masterpiece, your used body marked as his territory. He pressed a wet kiss to your lips before rubbing his knife carefully over your painted chest, holding it out for you to lick.

When you did, he groaned at the sight.

“my pretty little kitten, so good.” he praised you, pushing the sweaty hair off your face.

He stayed with you for a while, keeping you safe in his arms while you closed your eyes. Maybe one day he’d reveal his identity to you.

You were his toy now. You’d never get rid of him and he’d be seeing you very soon.

#ghostface #ghostface x reader #scream movie #slasher imagines #slashers #knife play #billy loomis #billy and stu #stu macher #stu macher x reader #billy loomis x reader

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official-michael-afton · 5 years

Note

How did Mike get tricked into being infected by Vrabbit

[i was gonna draw this out but that’d be soooo many panels so lemme write a fic instead!]

Michael lifted the headset from his face as his phone buzzed, pausing the game to check his messages.

1 new message from PD. “Yo dude! Thanks for checkin this game out for us! If it still works then we should toooootally add it to Fazfright 2.0!”

Mike snorted, texting back “Cannot believe you’re trying to make another after what happened with the first.”

“Duh, we’ll just have it without murder rabbits!”

He laughed and set his phone back down, rolling his eyes fondly and put the headset back on, loading up the main menu. Admittedly, the vr game was pretty fun when there wasn’t any actual danger to him. The vent repair games were probably his favorite! Then again, he’s biased towards Ennard.

“Okay, how many more hard modes are there for the technician levels...?” Mike mused to himself as he flipped the switch to throw the level select into its blacklight mode. The room was thrown into darkness, then a soft hum as overhead UV lights turned on, taking a moment to warm up. The balloons, carpet, and computer lit up in bright neon colors underneath the lights, and it made Mike absolutely giddy; it reminded him of being a child in a bowling alley. He smiled and looked around the virtual pizzeria-

And nearly screamed as bright violet eyes stared at him from the nearby hall. Mike froze up, muscles going stiff and tense as his chest seized up and he found it suddenly harder to breathe. How long had that been there? How long had it been watching him? He was admittedly used to seeing things out of the corner of his eyes in every room he goes to in reality, but he’s not used to things still being there when he turns and looks.

Was he seeing things? Was this a part of the scripted game? Something about those eyes felt familiar, Mike couldn’t tear his gaze away...

Suddenly, the figure moved.

His heart practically caught in his throat as Michael realized the creature was moving towards him, and unlike reality, he couldn’t run. That didn’t stop his panic though as he stumbled backwards, falling on his ass and screaming in fear.

The figure seemed to... somehow realize this, as it stopped, its faint outline holding up a pair of hands as... what seemed to be rabbit ears twitched. A voice was then heard, presumably from the rabbit “No, no, it’s okay-!”

Mike wasn’t buying it, too panicked over the sudden blurring between virtuality and reality. None of the minigames before reacted to how the player model moved, and to get out of this whole mess, Michael reached to pull off his headset-

“DON’T-” The rabbit yelled, causing Michael to freeze up once again “Don’t- Don’t pull the headset off just yet, I want to-” It fumbled on its next words, so it simply started at Michael’s player model “... Mikey, is that you?”

Michael would have gone pale if he were still alive, eyes tearing up. He knew his player model looked nothing like the real him. “H-H-How- How do you-”

The rabbit held a hand up to shush him “Your computer- it- it has a camera and a microphone, so I took the liberty to-” He was quickly lost after revealing that information as Mike scrambled to his feet, running up to his computer to try and cover the webcam- “WAIT WAIT MIKEY- JUST LET ME EXPLAIN-”

After all this time, Michael finally figured out how to use his voice again “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU-?!” He reached out to turn his computer off-

“Mikey, it’s me.”

... Mike stopped, turning to stare at the strange creature once more. After a moment, he reached for the switch to pull the virtual room back to its normal lighting. What was just a glitched outline was now a more defined shape- dark yellow fabric and plastic eyes, looking like a costume to resemble Spring Bonnie. Michael recognized it immediately “... Oh my God.”

“Mikey, let me explain-”

“This can’t be happening.” Mike teared up, beginning to pace his room but not making any effort to get out of the game anymore “Father, you- you can’t be here right now, you- oh my God- How-”

“I’m not... actually William.” The rabbit explained, calmly straightening its back now that it knew it didn’t have to stop Mike from turning the game off “I am... well, an artificial intelligence made by him.”

“... I can’t believe this. I can’t believe YOU!” Michael tried to shove the rabbit, but forgot it wasn’t in reality, and his hands just passed through it. “Everything else wasn’t good enough for you, was it?! You just had to- to find a way to fuck up with this game too, haven’t you-!!!”

“Mikey, Mikey, shhhh, it’s alright.” Despite the strange rabbit suit, the voice was his father’s, and Mike found himself almost immediately calmed by the paternal tone. “I’m not trying to ruin anything, I... came to ask you for help, buddy.” It reached out- and Michael must have been imagining it, but he swore he could feel it caressing his cheek in a soothing matter. “My baby boy... you’ve gotten so tall!”

Mike snorted a little, unable to keep himself tense anymore as he began to allow this “Well, tell that to my boyfriends, they’re way too tall...” He then remembered what was said before and shook his head “You... said you needed my help with something...?”

If the suit could smile more, it would have. “Yes. I... well, you know I am an AI, but because of that I’m... trapped in here, sadly. I want to help- to help right everything, since my creator had died so long ago, but there’s nothing I can do if I’m in here, you know? So, kiddo, you would help me so so much if you do this for me...”

Michael was already putty in its hands. An AI just like his father, wanting to right some wrongs, and actually wanting Michael. He was already sold “Of course, Father, of course... what do you need me to do?”

“I need you to relax.” The rabbit reached out and gently held Michael’s head in its hands... and Mike began to feel a dull throb around his headset. He tried to ignore it, but within moments became an intense, splitting headache, Mike yelling in pain as he reached up for his headset to try and pry it off, but it wouldn’t budge, it was stuck. “Shhh, it’s okay kiddo, it hurts less if you don’t try to fight it.”

Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. Dark spots swirled in Michael’s vision as a wave of nausea hit him. His ears were ringing and he was wobbly on his feet, but somehow, somehow the rabbit’s hold on him kept him from collapsing, despite it not even being in reality. He began to cough, violently at that, as some strange liquid began coming from his mouth... and his eyes. It burned like acid. With hardly any strength left, Michael began to scream. “FATHER- F-FATHER STOP- ST-STOP- WHAT ARE YOU DOING- FATHER- FA-ATHER IT BURNS PLEASE-”

“Shh.” The rabbit cut him off, smiling same as ever as Michael’s vision finally went to black. His limbs began to move, though... he began to feel out of control. Mike tried to scream again, but he couldn’t will his vocal chords to work.

“It’ll all be over soon.”

#my fics #angst #ask to tag #manipulation tw #abuse tw #panic attack tw #virus au #fnaf vr spoilers #vrabbit #Anonymous

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unholyhelbiglinked · 5 years

Text

Dead Ivy | Chapter Five

CHECK IT OUT FROM THE START | AO3 LINK

Beca Mitchell rocked back and forth on her trainers. They squeaked against the linoleum floor, but not enough for anyone but her to notice. This store made her nervous, had made her nervous since she ran into Chloe Beale here a day and a half ago. Besides that, the lights were too bright and unnatural, the scent of freshly procured produce clawed at her throat.

She held the basket like a good helper, even though she was the older one in this situation. The plastic felt uncomfortable against her grasp and she was trapped in the loaded loop of anxiety that came with accompanying a kid to a candy store. It looked suspicious, and she was still very much drenched in sweat from her three-mile jog into town.

Riley had wiped the tears from her cheeks and was now glaring openly at the list in front of her. She had mentally checked off more than one of the items, making the basket heavier. She looked paler under the fluorescents, her eyes a vibrant shade of blue.

“I think that’s everything. You know you didn’t’ have to stick around? I could have gotten this stuff by myself.”

“I don’t mind, really. Besides, I had to cool off a little.”

Both of these things were half-truths. Beca had enough buzzing energy to take off and run to the docks another two miles away, and then the five back. She was itching to get out of this grocery store. They passed the aisle with the rubber gloves and Clorox wipes and Beca blinked away from it.

While they walked Riley talked about anything to fill the silence: The way they switched to getting their food from big corporations now because it was cheaper, and how they were thinking about remolding the store to fit current times but Mr. Roberts didn’t have that much money to front and why change something that was working in the first place.

Beca wondered that herself. She put the food that they had pilfered from the shelves on the conveyor belt and nodded along to the girl’s ramblings. Everything here had been a safety net, and some people are fine with making a hammock out of it- why change it. But she thought that was cowardice and would personally write a check for Mr. Roberts if he hadn’t caught her shoplifting spearmint gum when she was just past Riley’s age.

“Beca Mitchell?” The cashier’s jovial tone was enough to pull her over the edge. She was a stout woman that had the vague reality of being familiar, but not competently registering. She found herself flicking her eyes down to the obnoxiously lime green vest that had a tag pinned to it. Jenny. Emo Jenny from homeroom that almost burned down the school, or Band leader Jenny who could do the splits and deep throat anything in the name of school spirit? “Oh, my word, I heard you were back in town from a little birdy.”

Band Leader Jenny, it is.

“Yeah, not for pleasantries, I’m afraid.” Beca cupped her fingers behind her neck as Riley looked up at her with a squinted expression.

“Oh yes, you poor thing.” She clicked her tongue, or maybe sucked her teeth, Beca wasn’t sure. “When I heard about your brother, I said to myself, who thinks to do a thing like that? Who drinks and drives when there are plenty of other reckless things to do without harmin’ others?”

She had scanning things at a fast pace, placing them in paper bags like Tetris. Beca could feel her fingers reach for her wallet as she searched for her card, still making eye contact with a random girl she barely knew from high school.

“Anyway, how are you doing?” She finally interrupted, seeing as no one else was in the line for the chatty woman. She knew it would never end unless she changed the subject.

“Pretty good, sweetie, thank you! I married Chet and the two of us settled down right on the edges of town. We have three kids now, they're all one year apart and practically triplets if you can believe it. I swear they are joined at the hip- your total is 22.75- and they’re starting school soon. I’ll be glad to get them out of daycare, you know?”

“Oh, I can’t imagine.”

She plastered on a cheesy smile that made Riley snort and press her fingers against her lips. Beca could feel the corners of her mouth turn up into something more genuine as she grabbed the bags from Jenny and promised to catch up with her in a less public setting before she headed back off to that high-class life of hers.

Beca passed the bag to Riley and relished the hotness of the sun for once in her life. Her fingers felt numb and cold- apparently, everyone goes to the grocery store, because she couldn’t’ seem to avoid slaps in the face from her past. She had smiled as she did at the funeral. This seemed raw though. She started walking towards the direction that she came from.

“You didn’t’ have to pay for that. My mom gave me thirty bucks.”

“Pocket it and don’t tell her, kid. Start saving up for something.”

“Like a bus ticket?”

Beca stopped in the middle of the sidewalk at that. She turned and stared at Riley, who was breaking a sweat trying to keep a handle on the paper bag that looked like it was about to bust through. She had a defiant look on her face and one eyebrow raised. “What?”

“I mean, that’s what you did, right? You got a bus ticket out of here as soon as you could.”

“No, no I didn’t.”

She was chained a full year after she had walked across the stage, and maybe that’s what hurt her the most. The fact that she didn’t’ hop on a Greyhound the second she finished the obliged diploma. Instead, she shut herself away in the clutches of her old ranch house. Her chest felt tight and her throat felt even tighter.

“What that woman said about your brother-“Riley spoke softly “What happened?”

Beca let out a soft breath and raked her hands through her sweat caked hair. This kid had no sense of boundaries, none at all. She had half the mind to steal the thirty off her and sprint back home for a long and numbing shower: instead, she squatted down, taking the bag from the girls’ hands. “He died. A car accident a month ago.”

Riley blinked a few times and stared her down, scouring her features.

“Aren’t you going to say it?”

“Say what? That I’m sorry?”

Beca nodded dumbly. She had seen her fair share of head tilts and the way there was an instant glazed softness to people’s eyes. The way they thought about their own brother, their own sister or parent succumbing to an accident- a freak accident set into motion by bad choices. But Beca didn’t’ see that in Riley.

“I’m not going to say it. I don’t’ think you need to hear it again” She said, taking the bag back in her hands “Thanks for the groceries.”

She watched the key that shook in her grasp. The vibrant oranges and earth-shattering yellows of the fallen sunset reflected off the windows like a forgotten blaze left to burn in the hills of a forest. The lawn had grown darkened and brown, the paper that Beca had yet to cancel continued to stack up in front of the door like a barricade of daily news.

Beca had placed her hand against the red painted wood and felt the head the morning sun had left behind. There was a chill picking up in the air, her hair still wet and thrown into a loose bun on the top of her head. She had been avoiding this for most of the day, waiting until the end of the day to pull herself back out of bed.

She clenched her jaw and watched.

Jason wanted to get a dog after his wife left him, but he never had. He would busy himself with projects. Ripping up the carpet in the house and replacing it with wood in fear that the dog would ruin the fabric. Putting up a white picket fence because an animal with that much energy needs to have space to run freely. Searching through links on Facebook and visiting the pound every other day. He used to tell Beca that nothing truly clicked. He never felt that special connection he was craving and Beca didn’t’ think he would, not with an animal.

“Are you going to go in or not?”

“I went in the first time.”

Beca stilled her gaze on the old woman. Her features were shaded by the sunset. She looked younger somehow, leaning over the white picket fence with her hands grasping the wood as hard as she could. Her eyes shined like a dark forested day. Greener without that large hat of hers. She felt more daring when garden sheers weren’t waved in her view.

“Not for long.”

“Don’t you… I mean why is this a thing for you?” She pivoted on her sneaker for a moment, slinging her arms against her chest. “To prod and poke until you get the answers that you want?”

She edged her mouth into a thin line, lilting her head to the side in the same exact way Jenny from the Stop and Shop had earlier. This time it was more condescending and Beca didn’t care much for the fact that she didn’t’ have a garden tool as a weapon anymore, she still terrified her. Beca continued to stand her ground.

“Jason would come to mow my lawn, has been for the past four years. I would make his lemonade too sweet and he would tell me all about his family. His wife. You, his sister, I presume.”

Beca didn’t’ notice how unruly the lawn looked aside for the pristine bushes of red budded flowers and sharp thorns. The grass was growing too high, almost reaching past the woman’s ankles. Still- it was green and thriving compared to the patchy grass of her brothers spotted land.

“People are probably doing the most to step around you right now.” She continued. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I’ve spoken to him more than you have in the past years. That I’ve been a constant presence and you’ve been…”

“Gone.” Beca ran her thumb over the edge of the house key that was warm like putty in her grasp.

“Not gone,” She took a step away from the fence. “Just absent. He missed you.”

“I uh-“Beca blinked away from the woman with a jungle for a lawn. “I have to go inside. Clean this place up.”

“Okay,” She nodded, the corner of her mouth turning up in a slight smile. “Okay.”

Beca turned her attention back to the door. Back to something she didn’t want to push open again. She waited until she heard the creaking of the screen to her right. She could hear the crickets that chirped against the surrounding forest and the way the air got heavy with moisture as clouds filled the sky. She could sense the electricity, stare evenly at the red paint.

Beca took a step back and pocketed the key.

#Beca Mitchell #Chloe Beale #bechloe fic rec #bechloe fanfiction #pitch perfect #fanfiction

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saikostories · 3 years

Text

BTS - Ecstasy (JK) (M)

Jeon Jungkook was like a drug.

After that one hook-up in your living room, he just kept coming back for more. It was either the excitement of getting caught, or the fact that you gave him so much more pleasure than his girlfriend did.

He was still with Jenna, but at this point, you doubted he even cared about her.

Whenever she would go for parties, he would inform you when she had gotten lost in the crowd, then you would either go over to his place or he would come over to yours.

This was one of those times. There was a huge bash happening at Choi Youngjae’s mansion, and everyone was invited. Obviously, no one would pass up the chance to get some free alcohol and drugs, so they had attended – everyone, except for you.

You had stayed at home in a pair of black lace panties and a tank top, curled up into a ball on your bed as if waiting for something. You were, in a way – you were waiting for the ringing of the doorbell to your dorm; you were waiting for Jungkook to sweep you off your feet and fuck you to an oblivion.

But he hadn’t come or messaged.

It had been almost a week since you had gotten any action from him, and you were getting extremely needy. Finals had just gotten over – you had put your education first that entire week. Now, you were free, but you didn’t bother to text him, since you believed he wouldn’t pick up his phone.

You always were afraid to make the first move, and you realized that he didn’t care. Jungkook loved being in control.

Mumbling a ‘fuck it’ under your breath, you removed your top, and wrapped a towel around your body. You were going to take a shower and go to sleep – there was no use staying up and waiting for someone who meant absolutely nothing to you.

Right as you were about to step into the bathroom, the familiar sound of the doorbell had rung against your eardrums, stopping you in your tracks. You had rushed to the door in just the short towel, before looking through the peephole.

“It’s me, baby,” The image of your roommate’s boyfriend, and his raspy voice had reassured you. “Open up.”

“Perfect timing,” You had welcomed him into the dorm, before closing the door. “I was just about to take a shower.”

Even though you sounded sarcastic, you hoped he would understand what you were so obviously implying. You both had the entire night to fool around – might as well start with a steamy shower.

“Need someone to join you?” He had already started to unbutton his black shirt.

Your eyes became hooded with lust, as you sauntered towards the bathroom, the male following closely behind like a lost puppy. You had turned the tap on, before the towel dropped to the floor. All he could see was your bare back, all the way down to your panties.

“You were preparing for this all along, weren’t you?” He sounded so cocky, as he wrapped one arm around your bare waist, the other hand going to squeeze your ass from over the black lace.

“Maybe,” You cooed, leaning into his touch.

The bathroom was slowly becoming foggy, signaling that the water was at the right temperature. He had helped you pull the panties down, while you had done the same to his briefs, and then crashed his lips against yours.

“Fuck, I missed you baby,” He groaned, the warm water running down his back, as he littered your neck in wet kisses. “You have no idea how badly I wanted to touch you..”

You felt his strong hands squeeze your breasts first, before cupping your womanhood. All his actions showed how eager he was, and your submissiveness was showing the same. One thumb squeezed your nipple, the action making your cheeks redder than they already were.

The water was running down every part of your body, tracing every curve and ridge. He was rougher than usual, not that you minded – you assumed it had something to do with how much he missed you.

He attached his lips to yours again, tugging on your bottom lip, before swirling his tongue with yours. You latched onto his bare back, the wetness creating a subtle grip. Even then, you found it necessary to dig your nails into his skin.

Your breasts were practically sticking to his body, pressed so tight in the cubicle that not even a piece of paper could slide in between.

“Make me feel good,” He breathed, his nose nudging against yours. “Show me what your pretty hands can do, kitten.”

You grabbed into his member, your thumb pressing against the base of it, earning you a groan. It aroused you so much, your core clenching at the sound. You had started to stroke it back and forth, yearning for more of that. It just fueled you.

His cock was hard as a rock, and pressing against the tip with your thumb just made it twitch. He had sunk his head into your neck, sucking on it to create bruises as his hands squeezed your ass. It was as if he were bringing you to the edge by pressing his fingers against your opening, but not entering. Jungkook wanted you to beg.

“Why are you slowing down, kitten?” It had gotten too much for you. “I didn’t tell you to stop.”

He was trying to get it out of you, since he knew you were timid.

“I can’t-” He had pressed against your core once more, your voice turning shaky.

“Why?” He had interrupted you, finally sliding his finger in. “Tell me what you want..”

You could tell he was enjoying this. He loved to watch you unravel before him, he loved hearing you scream when he entered you with force. He went fast, but since you had such a slow-paced life, you didn’t mind.

When he had stuck his second finger in and started pumping, you were at a loss for words. Your brain had melted into putty, as he backed you up against the tile wall, your hips bucking against his handy. He curled his fingers, opening you up.

“I can’t hear you baby,” He growled, a smirk on his face.

“Fuck me, Jeon Jungkook,” You finally breathed, your voice relaxed, your eyes rolling upwards. “Please..”

His voice was low, and he let out a few chuckles. He pulled his fingers out of you, and hooked his hands under your thighs. With a grunt, he had lifted you up, and you latched your legs around his waist. With one last kiss to your lips, he had bucked his hips forward, finally penetrating you.

Electricity ran through your entire body, and you just felt elated. Waiting for a week was so worth it. He had started moving, his pace slowly increasing. The sounds of his skin slapping against yours was amplified by the water. It just aroused you more.

“Y/N,” He moaned loudly. “You feel so good..”

“Y/N..?”

The thrusting came to a halt, when you heard the muffled noise of a female. Everything just seemed to shatter like glass. The both of you were too afraid to move into a different position and hide.

“Jesus Christ… Why are you making so much noise..”

The bathroom door had creaked open, to reveal a drunk Jenna. How did she even make it home? She was slumping against the sink, her eyes half-closed. You were praying to god that her vision was blurry enough that she wouldn’t see you both.

“I was..” You voice sounded so sultry, so you cleared your throat. “Taking a shower..”

You flickered your orbs to Jungkook, who had a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. Oh shit. He had something planned. Slowly, but surely, he had started thrusting. Your nails had dug into the nape of his neck, as you let out a breath.

“When did you become so tall..?” Your housemate had looked up, as she squinted her eyes.

Even though you wanted to say something, it came out as gibberish. His length was rubbing against you, hitting that exact spot which just made you melt. You wanted scream, moan out his name, but you couldn’t risk revealing everything to his girlfriend.

“Jenna..” You breathed, gulping slightly. “I think.. you should go to sleep.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” She said, pushing herself up using the support of the sink. “For once.”

Jungkook had bitten into you once again to stop his moans, and you gasped subtly. He had gotten a little faster when Jenna had exited the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her.

“Fuck..” You let out a moan of relief.

“That was certainly.. amusing,” He rested one of his hands against the wall, as he gave you a strong thrust, making your back arch off the wall. “You’re such a mess.”

“You can’t do that to me, Jungkook..”

Your hand had tugged against his wet hair. A feeling was bubbling inside you, and you could feel yourself get close to your orgasm.

“I can do whatever I want, kitten.”

Once again, the pace had gone up, your breasts bouncing up and down. The both of you just weren’t as loud as before – that was hard, considering the amount of euphoria coursing through your veins at the moment.

You hated everything about Jeon Jungkook, but god, did he know how to make you feel good.

He really knew what he was doing; he knew how to make you melt in his arms. You could feel his grunts in your ears – even those were arousing. The way his nails dug into your thighs and ass, his toned body pressed against yours. All of it was addicting.

Within a few minutes, you had climaxed, your cum mixing along with the water which ran down his legs. You felt his knees buckle soon after that; he only had the energy to ride out his orgasm, your sensitivity making it feel ten times stronger than it actually was.

He had let you down gently and brought you into his arms, one of his hands resting on your neck as he gave you a peck. That was probably the only gentle thing he had done.

“I think.. you should leave before your girlfriend wakes up,” You turned off the tap – it wasn’t much of a shower, considering you got even dirtier than when you first got in.

“She had to come and ruin everything,” He watched you wrap the towel around your body, as he put on his briefs. “I would have broke you if she didn’t come along.”

You groaned, imaging how messy it would have gotten if that happened. You were already sore from how he had continued fucking you when you were sensitive – if he had been even more rough, you wouldn’t be able to walk.

“Next time,” You pushed the door open, looking around to see if the coast was clear.

“Or we could have a round two if you can keep quiet,” Jungkook suggested, feeling the tingling skin of your thigh.

His smooth talking was hypnotizing you into following his command. You were usually a strong-willed person, but this guy had some sort of control over you. Even though you were sore, you could, once again, feel your bud getting wet.

“I won’t be rough,” He kissed up your neck, his hand finally going up your towel. “I just want to taste you.”

At this point, you were convinced he was some sort of sadist. How the fuck could he expect you to keep quiet when he was giving you oral? Though he had built your desire for it up so much that you couldn’t resist accepting his offer.

Picking up your clothes, you quietly led him to your bedroom and locked the door behind you. The both of you carelessly dumped your clothes onto the floor, and once again, resumed the make out.

“If you make noise, we are both in trouble,” The male whispered in your ear, which you subtly agreed with.

The towel had been dropped to the ground so your naked body was in full display. It was still slightly red from the warm water. You could watch him hover over you when you laid on your bed, as he placed butterfly kisses down your jaw, then to your breast.

As if to tease you, he started pressing your core to stimulate you more, whilst he tugged on your nipple with his lips. The resisted moans had come out as whimpers when you felt him suck and kitten lick.

“You’re doing well, baby,” He kept his voice soft, automatically turning it raspy.

You let out a few audible gasps, as he finally positioned himself at your core. With his palm pressing against your thighs, your hard parted your legs for him the liquid almost dripping.

He had closed his eyes and licked a line up your folds, before licking his lips. You hadn’t even gotten a chance to recover from that, and he immediately darted his tongue onto your core.

“Ah-“ You had to stop yourself before you let out a loud sound. “J-Jungkook..”

You were struggling to keep quiet. Your bit your bottom lip as your back arched – his tongue was swirling around the area, making sure to hit every sweet spot. You could tell how much he was enjoying your squirming. His strong arms were keeping your thighs in place.

“You like that?” He growled, tugging his own lips between his teeth, going up to see the expression on your face. “You’re so damn sensitive.”

He was being so cocky. Your fingers had tugged on his hair when he went back in, and finally a quiet moan had echoed throughout the room. The mistake had only made him intensify his movements, to which your breathing increased. Your heart rate had accelerated.

“I-I can��t..” You almost cried, feeling yourself get close.

This was going to leave you sore in the morning. Soon enough, your had reached your high with an audible breath, your eyes rolling back. He had lapped up your juices while his fingers dug into your ass, then leaned back to catch his breath.

The male had crawled onto the bed after that, panting while he closed his eyes.

“You.. want to stay the night?” You figured he would be too tired to go back to his dorm, besides, your room was locked.

“I thought you would never ask,” He pulled your close by your waist, your legs intertwining.

He was the reason you were such a bad girl – you knew it wasn’t a good thing, but how could you resist? He was addicting, made you feel absolutely high when you needed it.

And in the end, what you were doing actually was a sin.

Just like a drug, he gave you a release from all the stress of being a high school student. You were his good girl, and he was your ecstasy.

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mcwxlr · 6 years

Text

He Doesn’t Love Me

Word count: 2.3k

Summary: It’s 2012, they broke up. Phil didn’t know his new girlfriend would kill Dan’s mind. Dan knew he was depressed, but Phil didn’t know. Dan knew he was getting worse, but Phil didn’t know. Dan was deteriorating in front of Phil, it was all his fault, and he didn’t even fucking know.

Genre: Angst

Pairing: Dan and Phil

Tw: Depression, arguing, self harm, alcohol, attempted suicide, suicidal thoughts, lots of cursing, like four mentions of an ED

Time period: 2012 (2017 at the end)

A/N: Mild spoiler alert: happy ending.,, I’ve been writing this for like 3 hours and I haven’t even noticed oh wow. Send prompts if you want.

“I didn’t want them to fucking know yet!” Dan screamed back at Phil.

“It is not the end of the world!” Phil yelled back, taking a deep sigh before continuing. “What, are you ashamed to be in a relationship with me?” Phil’s eyes glossed over and his bottom lip shook.

“No- Phil, no! That isn’t what I meant and you know it!”

“Well what did you mean then?!”

Dan tugged at his hair, clenching his fists. He will not say anything he regrets. Deep breaths, he will not say anything he doesn’t mean. Deep breaths, he will not-

“Phil- you fucking idiot! You know that isn’t what I mean! God, you’re so childish! Just grow up for fuck’s sake. You take everything the wrong way and you’re just so god damn clumsy and stupid. God- sometimes it’s just so fucking hard to love you, you know that?!” Dan took a deep breath, eyes widening and his hand quickly shooting up to cover his mouth. He didn’t mean it. He didn’t mean any of it. But that was too late. Dan watched as several tears slipped out of his longest-lasting friend’s eyes. Dan watched as Phil’s face drained of all emotion. Dan watched as Phil walked into his room and locked the door.

“This is Ella, my girlfriend.” Phil smiled, introducing the the girl attached to his side. She had chocolaty-coloured hair that came down to her mid-back. Her eyes were blue like faded cobalt, but they weren’t shit compared to Phil’s eyes. She was a slim girl too, slightly tanned skin and freckles only covering her face. She came up to just over Phil’s shoulder, which her cheek touched as she smiled. She doesn’t have dimples. Phil likes dimples. I have dimples...

Dan’s eyes filled with tears that he wouldn’t dare let spill. He forced his chapped lips into a smile and waved at Ella.

“I’m Dan.” Dan introduced. Despite the forced smile on his face, his voice sounded very monotone.

“You’re Phil’s roommate, right?” She questioned. Dan bit his lip and nodded. Roommate. Dan almost chuckled.

“We’re going out for dinner, so I’ll see you later.” Phil interrupted, taking Ella by the hand and exiting the apartment. That should be him and Phil. Going to Starbucks. Laughing and smiling, hand in hand. Dan shook his head. He’d ruined it, he’d ruined everything.

It wasn’t until Phil had left the apartment that Dan actually realised what’d just happened. Phil has a girlfriend. Phil loves another person. Phil is gone. Phil didn’t love Dan. Only a few weeks after they’d broken up, too. Phil replaced Dan in three and a half weeks. Was he really that worthless? Dan continued processing it, but soon enough it was nothing about Phil or Ella. It was negative thoughts. Negative thoughts about how worthless he was, how ignorant and selfish, how stupid, how fat, how emo, how irresponsible, how immature. Dan was a fuck up. He’d be better off dead, because Ella made Phil much happier than Dan ever did. Dan sucked in a breath, shaking his head. He felt tears tracking down his face, but quickly wiped them away. When they kept falling he just gave up.

Dan pushed his laptop off of his lap and stood up on shaky legs, walking back to his room with the walls support. He slammed his bedroom door closed and trudged over to his bed. His feet felt like they were walking through putty. Suddenly everything felt so fucking heavy. Now, Dan was irritated. Irritated that Phil replaced him. Irritated that Ella was so much more pretty than him. He was irritated that there was only half a carton of milk left in the fridge. He was irritated that Phil didn’t care about him. He was irritated that his room was messy. He was irritated that he couldn’t do anything about it. He was irritated he stopped taking his medication three and a half weeks ago. Phil wouldn’t know that though, Phil didn’t care. Phil didn’t even know Dan was on medication. It was so god damn much.

Dan stayed up until 12 AM screaming and crying into his pillow and crying. Phil never came back home.

Three months later and Dan’s mental state was deteriorating at an alarming rate. Two weeks later Dan started drinking like his life depended on it (it did). One day later Dan stopped getting out of bed. Other than using the bathroom, sneaking a pack of crackers every few days or going to get more alcohol, Dan laid practically lifeless on his bed. Phil should’ve been laying there with him. Phil was in the room beside him with another girl who he loved more than Dan. Every time Dan heard giggles across the hallway he added a cut to each wrist. Every time he heard a moan he added two cuts to each wrist. Each time they said “I love you” he went ape shit with the razor.

Phil didn’t even notice when Dan had started wearing long sleeve shirts whenever he did leave his room. Dan went shirtless whenever he was in his room. Besides, even if Phil did care enough to check in on Dan, he’d be completely enveloped in the duvet.

One night (or morning) at around 4 AM Dan came to the conclusion that no, Phil didn’t love him. No, Phil didn’t care about him. Yes, Phil loved Ella. Yes, Phil would move out and forget about Dan. Dan knew how these nights went, and he didn’t want to think at all. He wanted to sleep, but he wasn’t tired. His solution? Walk aimlessly around Manchester because that was a great idea. Dan laid for about 10 more minutes before sliding out of bed and slipping on a random shirt, black hoodie, dirty black jeans and some tattered and old shoes. Dan didn’t even bother with the mirror. He was aware that his cheeks had probably become very hollow. He was aware he was probably under 55 kg. He was aware of the horrible eye bags that marked his face. He was aware of how red his eyes were. He understood, and quite frankly, he didn’t care.

Dan glanced at his charging phone and turned away from it. He also left his wallet and everything else but his house key. As Dan walked down the hallway he glanced into Phil’s open bedroom. Ella was fast asleep across his chest, in her undies and one of Phil’s shirts. Phil was fast asleep too, his hand draped across her waist. Dan jerked his head away as tears pricked his eyes. He just walked out of the apartment faster. He didn’t come back home that night.

It was 6 PM when Dan finally came home. He hadn’t slept at all. Though, his head was clearer now. He was drained from walking around all night and day but he wasn't gonna lie, it definitely made him feel better. But as soon as he walked through that door he knew he was in deep shit. Phil sat alone in the lounge, Ella nowhere in sight (thank god). Phil’s head shot up as soon as he saw Dan. He immediately stood.

“Dan! What the fuck, I’ve been so worried! Where were you?” Phil yelled, his voice shaky and eyes glassy. “You can’t just leave like that, what is wrong with you?!” Dan chuckled at that. It was completely deprived of emotion and stone cold. “What- What the hell are you laughing about Dan?” Phil’s pitch rose and fall with each sentence. Honestly, Dan could tell Phil everything right here, right now. But Phil didn’t care and Phil didn’t love Dan. Plus, Dan didn’t really have the energy to explain anything or argue.

“Where’s Ella? Shouldn’t you be watching one of our favourite movies with her?” Dan spat, bitterly. Phil furrowed his eyebrows.

“She had a family emergency. But- but that doesn’t answer my question. Where were you? Why didn’t you have your phone with you? You could’ve been killed for god’s sake!” Phil’s voice rose as he continued on.

“Unfortunately I didn’t...” Dan mumbled under his breath and broke eye contact with Phil. Phil let out a sigh.

“Dan, is there something wrong? You can talk to me, you know that.” Phil voice softened. Here’s your chance, Dan thought.

“There’s nothing wrong. I’m perfectly fucking fine.” Dan said before he could tell Phil about how hard everything has been.

“Dan-”

“I said I am fucking fine! Leave me alone, god dammit!” Dan screamed in Phil’s face, breath quickening. Phil’s expression change from soft to annoyed again.

“I knew you were selfish. I’ve been up all night waiting for you. I’ve been worried sick for months now. You don’t care about me. Do you care about anything, Dan? Hmm?” Phil ranted. Dan stopped listening until, “Are you even listening, Dan? Fuck it.” Phil stopped for a second. “I’m so bloody glad I fell in love with Ella.” Dan turned around and locked himself in his room.

He overdosed that night.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine- fuck it. Dan downed half the bottle of pills. His wrists were now deep and bloody gashes replaced where his veins and freckles used to be. Dan washed down each pill with a sip of vodka. All the while, Phil was banging on the bathroom door and screaming at Dan to come out whilst dialing 999 at the same time.

The ceiling looked quite odd and the red-tinted bath water swirled. Everything looked fuzzy and Dan’s body started hurting really bad. He gagged a bit, his body trying to push the pills back up, put it was worthless. When Phil had successfully picked the doorknob he busted in immediately. Phil looked fuzzy to Dan too. Dan realised how much this would scar Phil. Seeing his best friend of almost four years with his wrists slit open and gushing blood into once clear bath water, his head thrown back and leaned against the tiled wall, completely out of it. It must’ve been so much scarier seeing him pass out.

Dan woke up with a gasp. As he struggled to catch his breath he examined the room around him. It was white. Well, the ceiling was white. Dan looked down. Oh. He was in a hospital. He saw movement out of his peripheral vision, and, oh.

“Dan? Dan- oh fuck, I’m so sorry. Can you hear me? Are you okay?” Phil quickly stood up and crouched down beside Dan. Dan just nodded, as he wasn’t in the mood for discussing much. Phil gave him a weak smile and ruffled his matted hair. At some point during that, Phil must’ve pressed the button to alert a doctor that he was awake because the door swung open and an older man in his late 40′s with faded light brown hair entered the room.

“Daniel Howell, correct?” The man offered a smile. Phil went back over to his chair beside Dan. Dan nodded. “Well, in case you haven’t a clue what happened last night, you attempted suicide.” Dan looked down at his legs. The doctor kept speaking, but realised Dan probably wasn’t paying any attention so he began speaking directly to Phil.

“We’ll put him on some medications and provide him a therapist.” The doctor said, causing Dan to zone back in on the conversation. “And I know the answer, but do you reckon he’d be content with staying in a psychological evaluation centre?”

“No.” Dan spoke up before Phil could get a word in.

“Dan-” Phil tried to intervene, but Dan cut him off again.

“No. I’m not fucking going.” His decision was final. Phil sighed again.

“Mister Lester, in order for us to let him stay home again with you, you must be sure he sees his therapist when he’s supposed to, make sure he takes his medication, eats, all that stuff.” The doctor turned his attention to Phil again. Dan looked over at Phil too and watched him take his bottom lip between his teeth and nod.

“Alright. I’ll do it.” Phil agreed, reluctantly.

Four days later Dan was on his way home.

“Where’s Ella?” Dan asks out of the blue, turning his attention away from the TV to Phil.

“She- Uh,” Phil scratched the back of his neck. “She moved.”

“Oh, okay.” Dan went silent for a second, thinking. “Did you break up?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” Dan smiled a little. Phil was his. Phil could love him again. Possibly.

“You didn’t like her, did you?” Phil tilted his head to the side. Dan pursed his lips and shook his head. “She wasn’t that bad Dan. She always asked about you. Made sure you were doing alright.” Phil paused and rubbed his forehead. “I didn’t know either, so I just told her you were doing fine.” Phil giggled. “I don’t think she believed me.”

“Bad boyfriend alert.” Dan giggled up at Phil. Phil giggled back.

“Cute boyfriend alert.” Phil smiled, his tongue poking through his teeth before kissing Dan for the first time in months. When he pulled back he watched Dan’s smile grow impossibly wider. His face was beet-red and his eyes were focused on the sofa beneath them, slowly trailing up to meet Phil’s beautiful eyes. The brighter cobalt. The one’s Ella didn’t have.

“Thank you, kind sir.” Dan laughed and hugged Phil.

They fell asleep cuddling for the first time in months.

Five years later, Dan and Phil moved into their London home. Dan no longer needed to take anti-depressants, saw his therapist only a few times a month, he was at a healthy weight and most importantly, he was finally happy and content and in love with Phil Lester. Dan and Phil’s channels were doing absolutely amazing and Dan had recently shared his experience with Depression. Minus the major details of 2012, though. Everything was perfect.

Dan, nor Phil, could be happier with what either of them had come to.

#phanfiction #phan #my fics #angst #tw #my phanfiction

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dancingalone21 · 7 years

Text

That’s My Girl

Summary: Jensen breaks your plans for the evening but the sly bastard makes it up to you.

Prompt: “That’s not a good enough reason to get married.”

Characters: moviestar!Jensen x Reader

Requested: @arryn-nyx

"I can't believe you're bailing on me!"

"I promise I'll make it up to you, Y/N!" Of course Jensen subjects you to his dazzling signature smile, the one that reminds you of kittens and rainbows and all of that corny shit.

He drags you in for an insanely tight hug as if that will make your moodiness disappear. Well, the joke's on you because it's starting to work. Damn his perfect physique. How are you supposed to stay pissed when an attractive man who smells delicious is touching you?

You gather up enough super strength to shake those distracting thoughts away. There's no way in hell that you're letting him off the hook this time. Nice try, buddy.

But Jensen's only wearing a thin, white t-shirt, allowing you to feel every one of his god damn muscles. Fuck. The man knows what he's doing, his hotness has gotten him out of more than you'd like to admit. To be fair, it definitely works both ways. All you have to do is bite your bottom lip and he's fucking putty in your hands. Silly boy.

"Whatever, Ackles." You abruptly abandon the embrace, ignoring the pitiful pout on your best friend's full lips.

Tonight's festivities have annoyingly been put on hold, the plans you've both had for weeks are now fucking ruined. It was supposed to be just you and Jensen for the entire evening. No work, no bullshit, no drama. Nothing but a bottle of Jack, delicious homemade nachos and a long list of cheesy Matthew McConaughey rom coms. Sigh.

"My publicist wrangled me an invite last minute to the CMT Music Awards. So I need to make an appearance on the red carpet for a shit ton of interviews. You know my new movie is coming out soon, sweetheart. It's free publicity."

"But it's a country music awards show." You scrunch up your face adorably, automatically stealing Jensen's current thought. Lately that's all it takes for him to be completely enamored by you.

"Country music fans watch movies ya know. Especially ones with yours truly." Jensen cackles hoping you'll join in on his goofiness. You don't.

"It's your job. I get it." You sigh deeply, navigating your way down the staircase to where the home bar is located on the first floor. It's frustrating times like this, when you're grateful to have a plethora of alcohol at your disposal.

"I know the whole red carpet thing makes you nervous, otherwise I'd take you with me." Jensen stresses, refusing to just leave you be.

"Dude. Get out of my ass." You spin around, practically colliding into the green eyed man behind you.

"I don't want you to be mad at me, Y/N."

"Normally I wouldn't care but your schedule lately has been busy as fuck. We have to make plans to stay in and watch a movie for christ's sake."

"Trust me, I know. I don't like it anymore than you do. On the bright side, the movie's coming out in a couple of weeks so I'll soon have time off."

"I know, Jay." You defeatedly pour yourself a large drink, responding coldly to the wounded animal expression on his face.

"I ordered pizza. We can at least have dinner together!" Jensen shoots you a playful grin making you momentarily forget that you're aggravated. Again.

The doorbell suddenly chimes, snapping you out of the mesmerizing trance known as the Ackles charm. Saved by the fucking bell.

You weave around your intoxicating roommate, rolling your eyes at the noise of his boots hot on your trail. If you're gonna end up with a stalker, you suppose having a handsome one like Jensen is the way to go.

Expecting to see a pimple-faced delivery boy at the door, you quirk an brow as your eyes take in the sight before you. Jared Padalecki's here and he's holding a mother fucking pizza.

"What's up, kiddo!" Jared quickly pecks your cheek, barely slowing down as he strolls right on into the house. It's safe to say there's a huge scowl gracing your features as you stomp over to Jensen.

"Why is Jared here?" You whisper, grabbing a hold of his firm bicep.

"I invited him over for pizza. Is that bad?" Jensen cocks his head like a perplexed German Shepherd.

"I literally can't with you right now." You blow past him into the kitchen, automatically shoving a piece of pizza into your mouth. You may or may not be an emotional eater. And you may or may not being fucking emotional right now.

Jared directs a smirk at Jensen who's now inhaling a large slice himself, "Don't stuff yourself with too much pizza, Ackles. You wanna be ready and willing for your date tonight."

"I know, right! She's crazy hot." Your best friend replies mumbling with his mouth full.

"You're taking someone to the awards?" You ask nonchalantly, as if your stomach didn't just do a friggin somersault.

"Yeah my manager thinks it's better than me showing up solo. It's cool with me. She's sexy as hell. And funny too." Jensen obnoxiously wiggles his eyebrows in your direction, close to earning himself a punch in the gut.

"Seriously, man. She's gorgeous. If I were you, I'd propose tonight. Lock it down asap!" Jared throws his napkin down dramatically, as if that drives his point home. You're surrounded by dumb asses.

"That's not a good enough reason to get married, Padalecki. I need to test drive the car first before I buy it."

"He means sex." Jared stupidly informs you. Yeah no shit, dipstick.

"Who the fuck are you two idiots talking about?" You blurt out, freezing at the way the words stumbled out of your mouth. You didn't sound jealous, right?

Damn it.

"Jenna Moore. She plays a supporting role in my movie. She's new to the business, so it's her first major motion picture."

"She's talented...definitely has some nice assets." Jared cracks, mischievously rubbing his palms together.

"And that's my cue. Have fun gossiping, whores. I'm going to binge watch Schitt's Creek." Without a second glance, you steal one more piece of pizza and get the fuck out of there.

Is there a strong possibility that you're secretly harboring feelings for your best friend? Well duh. Anyone with half a brain can tell at this point, except for said best friend of course.

Whatever. You've been staring blankly at the TV screen for the past hour, trying to contemplate your wonderful life choices. Then a knock on your bedroom door breaks your concentration.

"Hey." Jensen pops his head in, appearing strangely nervous although you keep that information to yourself.

"I know you're mad at me. Hopefully I can make up for it."

"We shall see." You sass side eyeing him, pulling a quiet growl from his chest.

"Come on. Follow me." Your best friend waves you over towards the door but you refuse to budge.

"What?"

"Come on, Y/N. Pleaseee."

"For the love of all things holy, Ackles. This better be good." You groan theatrically, chucking your blanket onto the floor before lazily leaving the room.

Jensen's nervousness grows by the second as he leads you down the hall to a huge guest bedroom. He hesitates for a split second before swinging the door open and heading inside.

You see three pretty women, you'd guess probably in their 30s and they are all smiling brightly in your direction. Dafuq?!

"Y/N...this is Kelsey, Tina and Jen."

“Um...hi." You mutter with a strained smile. "What's happening right now, Jay?"

"Kelsey's gonna do your hair, Tina's doing your makeup and Jen will help you with your outfit." Jensen claps his hands loudly, looking beyond thrilled.

"....What."

"You're my date to the CMT's!"

"What the fuck...what about the stupid actress? Did she bail on you?" You cross your arms over your chest, making Jensen snicker loudly. Fantastic.

"No, babe. She was never my date. The studio wanted me to take Jenna but I said no. I want to take my favorite girl." He admits sheepishly, a light shade of pink covering his cheeks.

"And you thought springing it on me like this would be a good idea?"

"Yes...maybe...I don't know." Jensen stutters adorably, running his hands through his hair. Deciding you both need some privacy, he asks the three women to wait downstairs before pulling you over to the couch.

"I know you're not big on the celebrity thing, like all the attention that comes with being out in public with me. But I'm also a stubborn fucker and I want you to be on my arm tonight."

"I literally want to smack you." You whine, shoving him in the shoulder. He instantly shoves you back, making you both burst out laughing.

"I know. I figured if it was a last minute surprise...you wouldn't have time to get too nervous about it. Or get too pissed at me. So what do you say? Be my date?"

"I suppose..."

"Sweet!" Jensen jumps up, lifting you off of the the ground in a bone crushing hug.

"Lord help me." You groan smushing your face into his hard chest, realizing this could easily turn into a horrible idea.

"I'm gonna send the girls in and they can help you get ready. I even picked a dress for you!" Jensen's energy is annoyingly infectious, so you choose to just go along with this crazy idea.

Getting your hair and makeup professionally done is actually pretty fucking fun. You could totally get used to this kind of pampering. Although Jen won't let you see your dress until it's time to get changed and it's driving you mad.

You're silently praying that you'll like what Jensen handpicked for you. Finally after laying out your matching high heels and jewelry, she reveals what you've been waiting for.

Your mouth drops at the gorgeous, multi-colored gown with a hip high slit placed in front of you. That boy did fucking good. Real good. You're now starting to get weirdly excited for tonight, even if it ends up going bad at least you'll look awesome.

The girls take care of some finishing touches before wishing you well. Now it's just you and Jensen left in the house, it's nerve racking since he hasn't seen you yet.

You tell yourself to stop being a major pussy and head downstairs to where he's waiting for you. Seeing him in his dark maroon suit is giving your mind all sorts of naughty ideas.

"Holy shit, Y/N. You look incredible!" Jensen's practically drooling at the sight of you and you're pleasantly surprised at his reaction. Taking your hand, he twirls you around causing a giggle to escape your lips.

"So will you be my date?" Jensen wonders wrapping his arm around your waist.

"Um I think we already established that." You chuckle, gesturing down at your fancy attire.

"I mean like a real date. Like more than friends."

"Really..."

"Hell yeah. You're my best friend, Y/N. I can't see myself with anyone else. You're beautiful and hilarious and just...amazing." He takes advantage of your shocked state by crashing his lips into yours. You gotta give it to him, he's definitely turned this night around.

"You ready for our first date, gorgeous?"

"I'd rather pizza and beer but I suppose an award show will do." You tease hooking your arm with his.

"That's my girl." Jensen happily agrees with a smirk, leading the way.

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