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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 months

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Dirty Work 12

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: I'm having too much fun with this.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

As you enter, you hear Leslie. It's an unusual homecoming as you're used to only the blare of the television and swaths of cigarette smoke. Both are missing as you peek into the living room.

“Now, Charles, you heard me,” the nurse chides.

“Yeah, I got it,” your dad says with less spite than usual, “this one.”

Dread curdles in your stomach. The call you got at lunchtime was short and Leslie assured you all was well but you couldn’t tell if she was only being polite. You could hear your father yelling in the background.

You look around the door frame and find your father sitting forward on the couch, one hand on the handle of his oxygen tank as his shoulders obscure his other. You tiptoe closer as Leslie sits in one of the wooden chairs from the dining room. You spot the half-finished jigsaw puzzle on the coffee table as you come forward.

“Well, give it a try,” she encourages and he pushes the piece into another. He grunts, a noise with some pride. “Looking good, Charles.”

You've never heard anyone talk to your dad like that. Not without being told to cut the shit. And no one ever calls your dad anything but ‘Chuck’.

“Yeah, yeah,” he sounds almost bashful.

“Ah, hello,” Leslie sees you first, “come on in.”

You put your bag down and cautiously inch forward. Your dad doesn’t acknowledge you but that’s not too unusual. You stop behind the couch as he puts another piece in place.

“And how was your day?” The nurse asks in a sunny tone.

“Um… good,” you answer. You don’t usually get that question.

“You look tired. Must have been a long one,” she remarks.

“Mhmm,” you stare at the puzzle as your dad continues to piece it together. You’ve never seen him do anything but watch television or doze on the couch. And rarely without a cigarette between his lips.

“Been a good day for us, too. Me and Charles are just getting to know each other,” she grins.

Still, your dad is silent.

“Charles, come on, say hi, your daughter’s home,” she scolds.

“Hi,” he grunts. She sighs.

“You’re a funny man,” she tuts and stands up, “I got another hour,” she faces you, “why don’t we have a chat?”

“Sure,” you accept and she takes the lead, waving you into the kitchen. Your father mutters to himself as he holds a handful of pieces and picks through them. You give him one last look before you follow the nurse.

Leslie turns to you as she stops just by the counter, “no more cigarettes. We got in a row about the things but I tossed ‘em.”

“Huh?” You can’t help the shock bulging behind your eyes.

“Yep, and he ate all his vegetables,” she smirks proudly, “I know it’s hard to say no to our loved ones but I don’t wanna come back to a fresh pack tomorrow.”

“Uh, yeah, I…” you don’t try to excuse yourself. You don’t buy him smokes, he finds a way, but you still gave up arguing about them.

“I also have some information for you. Some stuff about diet and all that. The meals you made are lovely but there are some recommended staples for his condition that would be better,” she explains, “and an exercise plan. Light duty but he can’t be on that couch all day.”

“Thanks so much,” you say, “I really appreciate it. I… I’m so sorry it’s such a mess-”

“Are ya kidding me? I’ve walked into much worse. He’s a bit crotchety but no skin off my back,” she scoffs, “don’t worry, hon, I got it.”

You could cry. You feel the weight slowly lifting from your shoulders; still there but less. It’s not just having help, it’s having someone to guide you, someone you can speak your concerns to. Someone who can tell you you’re doing the right things.

🧹

It’s eerie entering the house knowing that you’re completely alone. The leash is no slacker without its holder near. You still feel the oppression of the empty house, curtains drawn and shadows pooling.

It won’t be for long. The carpenter will be there soon to inspect the gazebo and the landscapers are due for their scheduled work in the garden. There’s enough to keep you busy and unaware of your employer’s absence.

Still, it’s a strange feeling to walk those empty halls. You half-expected Mr. Laufeyson to appear and berate you, as if he is a wraith who does not abide time or space. He doesn’t and you press on, holing up in the library for the morning.

There’s another mystery in the folder. A riddle you can’t solve. A page taken from a notebook, with little flowers framed around the lines. It’s a list but it’s not for this place. It can’t be. As far as you know, there isn’t a fire pit around here or a lake… both are mentioned among the clustered bullet points.

You earmark it but don’t know if you’ll ever get to it. You want to ask Mr. Laufeyson but then, you’re not sure he would even know. It could be something only his wife would be privy to. You wouldn’t want to reopen old wounds.

You go down to the kitchen to eat your lunch. A plain peanut butter sandwich on whole wheat, the same thing you have every day. It isn’t much but it’s enough to keep you going. You wipe up stray crumbs and put the container back in your bag.

The doorbell rings just as you come back to the staircase. You descend and for a moment, you let yourself pretend that this is your home. That you are the lady of the estate. That all these fine ornaments and the sprawling gardens belong to you. The fantasy dissolves as you reach the last step.

You go out to meet the new arrival at the gate. It must be the carpenter as the landscapers can let themselves in. You recall his name is Ronan from your brief phone call. You remember because it seemed so unique.

He’s a tall man, hunching slightly as he sees you approach between the slats of iron. You pull the gate open from within and muster a smile to welcome him. You’re at a loss as you can eke out only a mousish ‘hi’.

He says your name, tenuously, as if he isn’t sure.

“That’s me, sir,” you close the gate gently behind him. As he steps past you, his height becomes even more obvious. In his hand, he has a brown leather bag, squarish and bulky. “You’re the carpenter, Ronan?”

“Yes,” he answers as he looks around, “this is a nice place.”

“Erm, thanks,” you utter, “well, er, I suppose I should show you…”

You trail off and scurry around him. You hear him following as the contents of his bag shifts noisily with each step. You take him around the back and divert away from your usual route. You lead him into the thick brush that overgrows the path to the gazebo. You stop before the derelict structure as he comes up beside you.

“There’s a hole in the floor and one of the pillars is cracked,” you explain, pointing, “just wondering if it can be repaired.”

“Ah,” he takes a breath and lets out a thoughtful hum.

You peek over as his pale blue eyes examine the steps and front columns. He steps forwards and sets his bag on the lowest step before climbing up. His footsteps sound hollow as he traverses the wood, walking the perimeter, stopping to check the broken post and then the boards across the floor. He squats to get a closer look as you remain where you are, rubbing your sweaty palms together.

“I’ve seen worse,” he declares as he stands, his voice booming as he rolls into the open air. He comes back to the archway and rests his hand on the top of the railing, “definitely not a lost cause. Did you have anything in mind for the restoration?”

You shake your head, “I’d have to ask my boss.”

“Your boss?” He wonders as he comes down the stairs and bends to unbuckle his bag.

“Uh, yes, I just… I’m… the house manager?” You say uncertainly. “He’s out of town so I’m seeing to the property.”

“Oh,” he takes out a measuring tape and a level. “I thought it was yours.”

You almost laugh. It's flattering that he would assume that. You just smile sheepishly.

“Well, I’ll have to do a proper inspection, check the integrity for sure, but I’ll leave you my notes. What needs to be tended to, my suggestions…” he says, “when it’s ready, where would I find you?”

“Oh, well… I’ll… I’ll be working on the patio,” you point back to the house as the idea flashes through your mind. Without Mr. Laufeyson, you can enjoy the sunlight. “I’ll be there.”

“Right, thank you miss,” he faces the gazebo and squares his shoulders. You feel as if you’re missing something.

“Um, sir,” you begin, “would you like some water?”

You think that’s right. You should be polite. It’s what Frigga would you think and she seems to know everything.

“That’s very kind of you but no thanks,” he says as he begins up the stairs again.

You twiddle your fingers as you stay there for a moment and watch him. That wasn’t as bad as you expected. It’s always difficult meeting new people. While he’s not overly friendly, he’s not rude or scary or anything like that. He’s just there to do his work, much like you.

You turn on your heel and leave him. Your excitement builds as you trace your way to the backdoor. You can’t wait to bring your things out and sit on the patio. It will be a nice breath of fresh air. Literally.

🧹

Your first day alone proves to be the calmest since you began working for Mr. Laufeyson. You can’t help but bask in the peace of his absence. Even so, you are mindful to stay within his lines. You haven’t forgotten the camera on the mantle.

You leave the house after double-checking that the security is enabled and the doors are all locked. The gate clunks loudly into place and you shake it just to be sure. You exhale and turn off down the street, eager to get home and relieve Leslie of her duties.

The bus comes on time and you find a seat, staring out at the city as it passes. You hug your bag in your lap as you recognize that moment. That rare occasion where you’re not bound up in knots. There is no Mr. Laufeyson to shadow and rebuke you. And your father is taken care of and seemingly content.

As you get off at your stop, you take your time as the sky sets slowly above. You are met by a similar scene as the previous night. Your father is at the coffee table, bent over as he pushes pieces into each other. Leslie is singing in the kitchen as she tidies and looks up as you enter.

“Ah, hello hon,” she beams cheerily, “dinner’s in the oven for ya.”

“Um, oh, thanks, you didn’t have to…”

“More than enough,” she smiles, “long day?”

“Not too bad,” you glance back over your shoulder into the living room, “how was he?”

You turn back and she cackles, “I’m sure you know how he can be. He’s calming down a bit. We got in a right tiff over the cigarettes again but he ran out of air to bluster.”

“Oh…” you scratch your neck, “I’m sorry, I hope he’s not too much.”

“Like I said, nothing I haven’t dealt with before,” she shrugs.

You nod and return to the living room. You near your father as he rubs his chin. He’s almost done the puzzle.

“Wow, you got a lot done,” you comment.

“Eh, cause I don’t got you to distract me,” he flicks his fingers at you derisively.

You wince and back away. A sigh escapes you. You’re too tired to try. As you retreat, you can’t help but stumble in realisation. There’s something happening to you. Some sort of indifference. Apathy, maybe?

You look back at your father. You love him and you desperately want to make him happy and healthy. You want him to be proud of you. You want him to tell you that you’re good enough and yet you just don’t have the energy to keep fighting him.

When you see how he is with Leslie, it feels as if he’s taunting you. He can be nice to her, he will listen to her, he will talk to her, but you, you’ll never earn that. Thirty years and you just aren’t worthy.

Well, he is happier and healthier than he was. It doesn’t matter that it has nothing to do with you. It only matters that he’s okay. It’s all you ever wanted for him.

You take your bag up to your room and trade it for a paperback. You come back down and sit on the porch until she’s gone. You go inside and lock up, your father still sitting vigil at the puzzle. You notice his grey hair is tidy and clean. He wears a shirt that isn’t wrinkled and he looks more lively.

You ask him if he needs anything before you go to bed. He doesn’t answer. You leave him to the puzzle and pack away the dinner Leslie left for you. You’re not very hungry.

You put both your phones on the night table beneath the lamp. You keep the light on as you finish the chapter, or try to. You doze off, awaking only as a buzzing rattles the wooden table against the side of your bed.

You move the book off your chest and mark the page. You reach for the phone as you sit up. It unlocks with the tap of your thumb and the alert covers the screen. ‘Movement detected’. Oh!

Mr. Laufeyson enabled the app for the lock system while he’s away. The abrupt swipe of the phone from your hands was startling but it wasn't exactly yours to begin with. The memory plucks at you as if you should have seen this coming.

You rub your eyes as you press the alert and check the time in the corner. It’s nearly two in the morning! You jolt out of bed and stagger on your feet. Oh no!

Did you leave something unlocked? Maybe it’s just a squirrel or the wind? No, it says it was the front door. Shoot! Should you call him? Would he get the alert too?

You scramble to find some clothes. You pull on a pair of greyish blue sweatpants and a hoodie. You don’t have time to worry about how you look. You have to get to the house.

You snatch up your work bag, too frantic to fish out your change purse, and barrel down the stairs. Mindless of the noise or disturbing the silence, you race out the door, slamming it and locking it shakily behind you. You run up to the curb as you dial a taxi service.

Was the gate really locked when you left? Did you put the security code in right? A thousand doubts crowd your head and churn your stomach. It doesn’t matter, all you know is you messed up again.

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #dirty work #maid au #au #marvel #thor #avengers #mcu

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wolfjackle-creates · 3 months

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Bring Me Home Arc 3 Part 1

Happy WIP Wednesday! So last week, we had a tie between Bring Me Home and Answer My Call. The tie breaker didn't come in until Monday after I'd already finished the entire Bring Me Home chapter and half the Answer My Call one.

So y'all will be getting two fic upates today then I'm going to sleep. I'm tired after a full day of work with a call out. XP

If you want a say in next week's update, vote in the poll!

Welcome to Arc 3 of Bring Me Home! 🎉🎉🎉

Story Summary: Danny's parents find out his secret. It doesn't go well. But he's not alone. His friend Tim Drake, better known as Red Robin, and the Young Justice will not let him suffer.

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: fanon-typical violence. This is my dissection fic, but I don't think I crossed the line into graphic. Let me know if you disagree.

Arc 1: AO3

Arc 2: First, Last

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Danny waved goodbye to Sam and Tucker as he made his way home from school. They had a long weekend and he planned to fall into bed and take a long nap. And then maybe grab some midnight tacos as Phantom for dinner.

He hummed as he thought about how awesome those tacos would taste when reached his home. Still lost in his daydreams, he unlocked the door and pushed it open.

Only for electric pain to shoot up his arm. Danny screamed, paralyzed to the spot. He tried to pull his hand back, but something held him in place. He fell to his knees, arm still held out and radiating pain through the rest of his body.

“What? Danny!”

“M-mom?” he forced out between cries. “Hurts!”

He could feel his transformation tugging on his core and he tried to force it back.

“Jack! Quick, it’s Danny!”

“Please,” begged Danny. Even kneeling was getting to be too much. Blackness was threatening the edges of his vision so he closed his eyes. He had to keep from transforming. He had to.

He didn’t even have the breath to scream anymore.

He heard his dad’s voice. There was a flash of light. And then nothing.

---

The first thing Danny was aware of was that everything hurt. His muscles were aching and his right arm was practically numb. The next thing he noticed was that he way lying on something hard. He tried to roll over, only to realize he was strapped down. And not just at his wrists and ankles, but also at his waist and neck.

His eyes flew open in shock and he yelled in panic. Had Vlad gotten him?

“It’s awake, Mads!”

Orange filled his vision as his dad leaned over him.

“D-dad?” asked Danny. He felt his core humming in his chest. His core, not his heart. He twisted his head just enough to see a black jumpsuit.

He was Phantom. His parents knew.

His dad’s face contorted with anger, an expression he’d never once seen there before. “Don’t you dare call me that, impostor! What have you done with my son?”

“Dad, it’s me. I swear. I—I can explain.” He tugged on his restraints, trying to phase through them. Only to scream as the anti-ghost shielding shocked him.

His mom’s steps echoed from out of sight. “You aren’t escaping us that easily, ghost,” she spat the last word. “How long have you been possessing Danny?” She finally came into view, goggles blocking her eyes and her mouth hard.

“I’m not possessing him, I am Danny!”

She sneered. “Jack, now.”

“Release our son!” shouted his father. Then he pulled out a spray can and held down the nozzle.

Danny saw the mist approach him and scrunched his eyes closed as he turned his head to avoid the spray. But of course it was impossible. He whimpered as it settled on him, tiny pinpricks of burning. As he lay there, the feeling grew more and more intense until he couldn’t help but cry out.

And that’s when he breathed it in.

It was all agony, inside and out. The mist settled in his lungs, pure fire trying to melt core.

With a flash of light, he was Danny Fenton again. His heart beat in his chest and his lungs screamed for oxygen. The pain didn’t go away, but it lessened. Danny gasped in deep breaths, his limbs shaking in their restraints as he tried to push through the pain.

“Did it work?” asked his dad.

Fingers brushed his hair off his forehead. “Sweetie? Are you back with us?”

Danny opened his eyes, tears gathering and looked up at the face of his mother.

Her expression turned from hope to hatred so fast he thought he was dreaming. “Green eyes, Jack. The ghost is just trying to trick us.”

“The ghost repellent has never failed before. How are you surviving, ghost?”

Danny screwed his eyes shut so he wouldn’t have to see his parents’ faces. “It’s me, I promise. It’s me. I’m alive. I’m alive.”

“Stop lying!” screamed his mom.

Then he felt a sharp pain in his side, followed by a wave of agony. He felt like he was being electrocuted again. In defense, he transformed back into Phantom—his ghost form was so much more durable.

But the pain only got worse. He screamed. His wail was crawling its way up his throat, only to fizzle out into a wave of electricity when it hit the anti-ghost restraint strapped around his neck.

“Loud, isn’t it?” asked his father.

“Let’s shut it up, Jack,” said his mother.

“No, no please. It’s me, Danny!”

They ignored him, though. The pain stopped just long enough for him to gasp in a few breaths. Then piece of metal was being fixed under his jaw and over his mouth. His head was yanked up so it could be strapped in the back. Danny tried to yell into the muzzle, but it muffled all sound.

After that, he lost track of what they did. So many inventions were taken out, used, and discarded. Anything to destroy the ghost part of him or force him out of his living body.

He wished he could obey. That he could just be their son again and not Phantom. But he’d learned many times over the last three years that it was impossible. He was both Danny Fenton and Danny Phantom and spitting himself apart would only ever lead to destruction.

He didn’t know how many times he was forced into a transformation as his body tried to choose the form more resistant to the torture. It didn’t seem to matter, though, if he was Fenton or Phantom. His parents would check his eyes or use the ghost tracker and then the next wave of pain would wash over him.

Eventually, however, even his parents ran out of inventions to use.

“This isn’t working, Jackie.”

“What if we can’t force it out, Mads? What next?”

“We’ll cut it out. You know we’ve long hypothesized about the existence of a ghost heart. What better way to test our hypothesis than cutting the parasite out of our own son?”

Danny’s eyes flew open and he tugged with aching muscles, twisting as much as he was able. His muffled protests were ignored just as much as his words had been.

“Where do you think it’s hiding its heart?” asked his dad.

“We’ll use the Fenton Scanner to find the areas of densest ectoplasm concentration and search each of them.”

His mom stalked out of sight and Danny could hear her rummaging through various bins and cabinets looking for the scanner.

His dad, however, stared down at him, eyes hidden behind his goggles and his mouth in an uncharacteristic frown. “If you’re still in there, Danno, we’re gonna get rid of it. We’ll free you, son.”

Danny wanted to tell him he wasn’t trapped, to say again that he was himself, whatever he looked like. But all he could do was whimper and blink away the tears.

Then mom was back, a small scanner in her hand. She pointed it at Danny and he tensed, expecting more pain.

But he felt nothing. Soon enough, the device beeped and she waved over his dad.

“Look at this, sweetie. It’s working better than I expected. Only two main areas of ectoplasm concentration: his brain and his chest.”

“That’s awfully close to his heart, Mads. I don’t know if we can remove it without hurting Danny.”

“If we don’t remove it, he’ll be dead anyway!” Her last word caught on a sob.

Danny was crying in earnest now, too. This couldn’t be real. It just couldn’t. How long would it take anyone to even notice? Jazz was away at college, Tucker had plans with his parents all night, Sam was trying to get along with her parents to get out of a rich-person function later in the month, and he and Tim didn’t have a check-in until Sunday.

Could he survive his parents for two whole days until then?

He forced his eyes open to see his parents hugging. All he wanted was to be between them, caught up in their embrace. But instead he was strapped down to a hard, cold table.

They separated.

“Hold him still, Jack,” said his mom.

So Danny did the opposite. He ignored the ache of his muscles, the way they protested, to twist and yank and move as much as he could.

But his father’s hands were big and he was strong and Danny was tired. When his dad spread his hands over his shoulders and pressed, Danny couldn’t fight back. Above him stood his mom, holding a scalpel that glowed green.

Danny closed his eyes tightly when he saw her lower the blade. He couldn’t watch this. Then agony as it sliced through his skin.

Danny screamed into the muzzle. The pain was so intense that he could focus on nothing else. He didn’t know if his parents were talking to each other. He didn’t know what they were finding inside of him.

Instinct forced him to hide his core, to push it smaller and disguise it. But he knew that nothing would stop his parents forever.

He had no way to judge the passage of time. It felt like an eternity; it felt like a second.

Then the hands on him ripped away suddenly and new shouts, new voices, rang out in the lab.

Danny blinked his eyes open to see Sam and Tucker above him. Sam was paler than he’d ever seen her and Tucker didn’t look any better. He tried to talk to them, but the muzzle still covered his face.

Sam turned her head away and shouted, “Kon!”

A moment later, Superboy was landing next to her, his face grim. Then Danny’s restraints, muzzle included, fell to pieces. He was free.

He pushed himself up, needing to see, only to cry in pain and fall back down when the cuts on his chest protested the movement.

Sam and Tucker shouted at him, told him to stay still. Their words were fuzzy and hard to focus on. Everything was hard to focus on. But in the brief moment of time he’d been able to see more than the ceiling above him, he saw Tim in full Red Robin get up using his staff to keep his parents away.

Tim was here. And the world went black.

-----

I no longer tag, but if you want notifications when I update, check out the Subscription Post.

After about 40k of writing, we're finally back to the scene that started it all! Only now with 4x the number of Young Justice on hand. About three years have passed between Arc 2 and Arc 3, so they've all gotten quite close. There's group chats. So many group chats. Danny's met more members of the Young Justice (and I may write a few of those meetings in the future which is 80% why I decided to make this a series rather than a single work on AO3).

But on the rescue team we've only got Red Robin, Superboy, Wonder Girl, and Impulse.

I'm about a third of the way through with major edits for Arc 2. So I'll probably start cross posting to AO3 quite soon! Main changes are in what Tim tells Bruce about where he is and what he's up to.

#dpxdc #bring me home #now with arc 3!!!#Hope you all are as excited as I am!#dissection fic #vivisection fic #gore #not super graphic #by dp standards at least #but tagging just in case #danny is not having a good time #but his friends weren't gonna let him suffer for too long

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everlastingdreams · 5 months

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Isaac Lahey x Reader : All The Things I love

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Story Summary: Isaac asks to borrow your notes for a Math assignment but learned more than he expected to learn from them.

Notes: Fluffy. This has been in my WIP's for way too long. I wasn't sure if it was good enough to finish writing it, but now I have.

Word count of this fic: 2900

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After getting home from school, you had put a pizza in the oven to eat for dinner.

And as you waited for it to be ready, you were busy writing down some things on the list you had been working on. It had started as just a way to put your thoughts into something else to clear your head from them, sadly that plan had not worked out so far. This particular list grew a little longer every day.

When your doorbell rang, you left the small notebook on your desk as you hurried to see who it was.

The second you opened the door you were met with Isaac’s blue eyes and wide smile.

“Hi, sorry for not calling before coming over.” He looked nervous, as if you would slam the door shut on him.

You shook your head at his shyness and gestured for him to come inside “Don’t worry about it. My friends are always welcome.”

He relaxed immediately, his smile grew wider. “I’m…. I’m glad to hear it.”

Usually Isaac always called or texted before coming over, something must have caused him to forget.

You could see that he looked a bit stressed about something, “You know you are always welcome here, Isaac. But is there a particular reason for this unexpected visit ?”

By his expression you could tell that there was a good reason.

“It’s about the math assignment for tomorrow… I uh… I lost my notes.” Isaac sheepishly confessed.

“Lost or forgot to take notes ?” You quirked a brow at him.

He looked guilty now, making it clear that it was the latter.

You decided not to torture him with it, “You can borrow mine.”

The sigh of relief coming from him made you laugh.

“Thanks, y/n. I owe you.” He smiled.

“Yes. You do, Lahey.” You teased, patting his arm with your hand.

You failed to notice how he drew a sharp breath when you touched his arm, and he leaned a little into the touch.

Then the smell of burned pizza reached your nostrils.

“Oh, crap!” You loudly exclaimed before running out of the room. You stopped and turned to him, quickly pointing at your desk. “The notes are over there. It’s the large notebook.”

He nodded quickly, finding it pretty funny to see your reaction to the burned pizza, “I kinda have to go, I gotta go to the store to get some stuff before it closes. I’ll text you later?”

“Okay!” You called back to him and he heard you curse in the kitchen.

He walked over to your desk and took the notebook from it before heading to the door. “Found them! Thanks for the notes!”

“See you tomorrow!” You shouted whilst trying to scrape the burned parts off of the crust of the pizza.

The door opened and closed, alerting you that he had left

After cleaning out the oven, and trying to salvage some of the pizza, you walked back into the living room and noticed the notes were still on your desk. Didn’t Isaac need them?

It was only then that you realized something was wrong.

You had been writing in your diary when Isaac had come to your house, and in your haste you had forgotten to put the diary back in it’s safe place, aka under your mattress.

You were quick to realize what had happened and panicked immediately. Not only did the diary contain your deepest secrets, thoughts and wishes. It also contained the truth about your feelings for him.

He had accidentally taken the little notebook instead of the large one.

“Dammit, Isaac.” You whined in frustration. Why had he taken the wrong one???

You quickly dialed his number, hoping you could reach him before he realized the mix up.

.•° ✿ °•. °•. ✿ .•° .•° ✿ °•. °•. ✿ .•° .•° ✿ °•. °•. ✿ .•° .•° ✿ °•. °•. ✿ .•° .•° ✿ °•.

Isaac had just begun to work on the assignment for math, well… he had taken a piece of paper to write on at least.

He took your notebook into his hand, while writing down his name on the paper, and opened it.

It wasn’t until he saw that by skimming through the pages and seeing no solved math problems, or many numbers for that matter, that he realized something was off.

He stopped on a random page and read just a couple of sentences that he thought were going to be one of those weird questions that came with a math problem.

This wasn’t a math problem, this was you describing an embarrassing situation you had been in weeks ago that he could vaguely recall.

He sat upright on his chair instantly when he figured out what the notebook in his hand really was.

“Oh… oh no…” Isaac panicked and the diary fell out of his hands by accident.

Clumsily he fished it up from he ground, it fell again when inches above the ground and this time he picked it up more carefully. He quickly tried to fold the pages back neatly again where they had crumpled from hitting the floor. His eyes fell on a page inside as he tried to fix it’s now messy state. It looked like two lists. It was not a grocery list or something. No.

The first list was titled ‘Bucket list’, where you had named all the things you still wanted to do in life. Some had been scratched off, it brought a smile to his face to see that you had already achieved some of these.

Then he took a quick look at the other list below it.

His mind went blank the second he read the title of the list.

~“All The Things I Love About Isaac”~

He knew he should have closed your diary and not invade your privacy. But his eyes were glued to the list naming everything you apparently loved about him. It even included things he felt insecure about. The last thing you mentioned was how he never gave up, even if things got hard. It looked like you had started to write something else down but stopped before finishing it, making it undecipherable to him.

Only when his phone rang did he snap your diary shut, as if he had just been caught.

When he looked at his phone, your name was lighting up on the screen.

He got ridiculously nervous as he answered the call.

“Y/n, hey, what’s up ?” He cleared his throat.

You sounded just as nervous when you answered, “Hey… uhm… about those notes you borrowed for class? Did you… uhm… did you work on the assignment yet?”

“No!” He answered a bit too quickly, realizing that he could pretend he never looked inside the diary in the first place. “No.. uh I didn’t.”

You let out a sigh of relief, believing that he had not even noticed yet that those were not notes. “Oh, great. Uhm… You took the wrong… notes. Don’t bother looking at them. Could you bring those back… I… I really need them.”

He sighed in relief as well. “Sure thing. No problem. I’ll be right there. Maybe we could work on the assignment together ?”

“That would be nice. See you in a couple of minutes then?” You asked.

“You bet.” Isaac quickly answered.

“Okay, be careful on your way here, alright? It’s dark outside.” You told him.

That was sweet of you to say…

“Don’t you worry about me, I’ll be right over.”

“Alright. See you soon. Bye.”

“Bye.”

The call disconnected and Isaac breathed out deeply.

Even though you seemed to believe that he had not looked at those ‘notes’ yet, he got incredibly nervous. Why would you write a list like that in your diary?

Maybe you knew another ‘Isaac’?

No…. no.

You would have told him if you knew someone else with the same name.

Did you write it because you had feelings for him?

He couldn’t just ask you about it, you would be so mad at him if you found out he did read your diary.

He swallowed hard, he would have to find another way to figure out the truth.

.•° ✿ °•. °•. ✿ .•° .•° ✿ °•. °•. ✿ .•° .•° ✿ °•. °•. ✿ .•° .•° ✿ °•. °•. ✿ .•° .•° ✿ °•.

As promised, your doorbell rang not much later and you found Isaac on your doorstep holding a pizza box in his hands. The smell of the warm pizza flowed inside the house the second you opened the door for him.

“I uh… Thought you might want some pizza that doesn’t taste like ashes.” He showed you the box.

“You’re so sweet.” You told him while taking the box from his hands. “I’ll put it on the table so we can share while working on the assignment.”

Isaac was quick to pull the small notebook from the inside of his jacket. “I brought this back, do you want me to put it on your desk?”

You hurried over after putting the pizza down on the table and took your diary from his hands. “I’ll take care of that. Thanks.”

The diary was placed under a big stack of books on your desk and you handed him the notebook that had the notes he had been after.

He didn’t open the notebook until you were both sat at the table, and eating a slice of pizza while working on the assignment together.

An hour had passed and he found it difficult to keep his attention on the assignment. He tried but his eyes always found their way back to you. He should be studying the notes in front of him, but instead he was studying your face. Your eyes, your nose, your lips…

Only when he heard you say the word ‘List’ did he snap out of his thoughts.

“What ?” He asked, panic in his voice.

You repeated what you’d just said, “I said we should make a list with all the stuff we have completed for this assignment so far. It will help us stay organized.”

He swallowed hard, his voice wavering a little when he said, “Sure. Yeah. Great idea. Good plan. Let’s do that.”

You looked back at him, picking up on the strange atmosphere.

“Do you know someone else who’s got my name?” Isaac suddenly asked.

“Huh?” That was a weird question. “No, why?”

“Just curious.” He mumbled a bit.

You blinked twice, narrowing your eyes a little at him, “Isaac, what’s going on with you? You’ve been acting distracted since you arrived here.”

He chuckled nervously and shrugged his shoulders. “Nothing. Nothing’s going on with me. Let’s uh… let’s work on that… list.”

He tried.

He tried so damn hard to not make that word come out differently.

But it did, and in your head it finally clicked.

Now it was you that began to fumble nervously with your pen.

He saw. He saw. He saw…

The words repeated themselves in your head over and over again.

Isaac must have seen the list, he was acting… off.

And the way he had just struggled to say ‘list’ was what set off your alarm bells.

No wonder he was acting strange, he must have read the list in your diary about him.

But…

Surely if he had seen the list, he would have said something about it? Hell, it would have been the perfect opportunity for him to confess his own feelings to you… if he had feelings for you…

But he kept quiet and you swallowed the lump forming in your throat.

Deep down you knew he had seen, he was acting different and you knew him well enough to know he was lying just now.

You wished you had never made that stupid list.

All he could think about was to not let it show that he had read your diary. You would be so angry, maybe even hurt that he had invaded your privacy in such a way.

He couldn’t bring up that list, he didn’t have the guts to tell you that he knew that you liked him as more than just a friend.

There was an uncomfortable silence and he feared that when his voice had broken on the word ‘list’ that he was caught in the lie.

Isaac was fishing for words in his mind, anything to get a normal conversation going again. Anything but this cutting silence between you.

But you were the one that broke the silence.

“It’s getting late. We should stop for today.” You said without looking at him.

A frown graced his face at your words, “You sure ?”

You nodded as you started to gather your things to put them away in your backpack. “Yeah. I’m sure.”

He blinked a few times, feeling that the atmosphere between you had shifted to something… colder.

“Alright… maybe we could watch a movie together now?” His voice betrayed how the situation was making him nervous.

You shook your head and managed to send him a small smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “Sorry, Isaac. I’m… I feel pretty tired.”

It was then that he knew that you just didn’t want him to be there any longer.

He gave a nod, the hopeful smile faded from his face, “Okay then. Are you alright ?”

You evaded his eyes as you nodded and tried to brush it off. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Really… just tired. I’ll see you in school tomorrow, right?”

He felt small relief at that, at least you still wanted to see him.

“You bet.” He said.

With that he silently gathered his stuff as well before leaving your place.

On his way home he kept thinking of solutions to make this right again.

Perhaps he should have just told the truth about reading some of your diary. Now you had figured it out yourself and he could sense that it had upset you.

He needed to think of a way to handle this situation before he would have to face you again tomorrow.

.•° ✿ °•. °•. ✿ .•° .•° ✿ °•. °•. ✿ .•° .•° ✿ °•. °•. ✿ .•° .•° ✿ °•. °•. ✿ .•° .•° ✿ °•.

The next day, you didn’t see him until you had already taken a seat at your desk in math class. You opened your backpack only to realize your math notebook was missing.

Just then, Isaac walked into class and put the notebook down on your desk before taking seat at his own behind you.

“Thanks.” You whispered to him, even though there were a ton of loose papers now sticking out from between the notebook.

They were all filled with the stuff he had worked on the previous evening beside you.

You went through them for a moment to see if there was anything useful for you as well on them.

One of those sheets of paper caught your attention, at first you thought it was just a paper with some extra notes on it, but then you read what was written on it.

It was a list… about you.

You slowly looked over your shoulder, back to Isaac. If there had been any doubt in your mind that he had put the list there for you to find, it was banished when your eyes found his.

You saw him take a deep breath, saw him reading your expression and then finally he shyly smiled.

A smile that failed to truly hide how nervous and afraid he was.

But that feeling vanished when you send him a bright smile back.

You were practically beaming with joy as you quickly turned your eyes back to the front of the class.

Isaac watched as you carefully folded the list and put the folded paper in your pocket.

Neither of you were able to focus much on the lesson for the rest of the class.

When math class ended, you were out of that classroom fast and waited for him by the door.

He walked out, his own notebook in hand, in search of you.

“I’m sorry for yesterday.” He apologized. “I’m an idiot, I know. I should have said something but I was afraid you’d be upset that I looked inside your diary.”

“How much did you read of it?” You asked him.

Isaac decided to tell the truth. “Just the part about that time you slipped over the wet floor. And those two lists.”

Your face burned, he had truly read the list about him…

“Thank you for telling me the truth now.” You smiled shyly, “And for what you wrote on that list you made about me. No one has ever said such sweet things about me before.”

The list he had made about you was full of praise and compliments. And everything he loved so much about you.

“I forgot to add one more thing on that list.” Isaac quietly said.

You bit your lip in expectation, “What?”

“What I love about you, is you.” He confessed, feeling the nerves crash into him with full force.

Your gaze fell to the floor when feeling how your heart was trying to escape your rib cage.

“And I forgot to add something on my bucket list.” You quietly told him, “Something I want to scratch off of it too.”

“What?” He looked a little confused.

“A kiss from you.” You send him your most alluring smile.

His brow arched in surprise, his mouth fell a little agape. “Oh.”

You laced your fingers in that scarf he had decided to wear, even though it wasn’t cold, and pulled him to your lips.

Isaac’s soft lips caressed yours, you parted only to look him in the eyes, he closed the space between you again instantly.

You were right to write down his lips as one of the things you loved about him.

And so was he to write yours down on the list he had made about you.

#isaac lahey #isaac lahey fic #isaac lahey x reader #teen wolf isaac #teen wolf #tw isaac #isaac

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loserdiaz · 9 months

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tease tidbit tuesday! 🩺🩹

aaaah i can't believe people are actually doing the silly little game i created when i was too impatient to wait for wip wednesday akjdkd thank youu!!

tagged by the ever lovelies @housewifebuck @honestlydarkprincess @hippolotamus @911onabc @spotsandsocks @jesuisici33 @thewolvesof1998 @devirnis @prince-buck-diaz @panbuckley @dijkstraspath 💗

here's another snippet of nurse eddie teacher buck and as soon as i finish this stupid fic, i'll focus on army buddies au <33

Buck hisses when Eddie applies the smallest of pressure and he knows that Buck is right. The ankle is probably sprained.

“Can you try to move it for me?”

“I, uh… I don’t think so.”

“Okay, that’s—” Eddie sighs. “I’m gonna help you stand up, alright? Just lean all your weight on me and try to stay off that ankle. We’ll go to my office, I’ll give you a massage and some ice before wrapping it up and then maybe we can call Maddie to pick you up? Sounds like a plan?”

Buck sends him a panicked look. “Eddie—”

“You need a professional to look at it and you know it, Buck.”

“You’re a professional.”

Eddie fixes him with a stare. Is it really wrong if he smacks him right now? It probably is. Besides, the kids are watching and Eddie can still hear Chris crying behind his back.

This is not the place to shake some sense into this idiot, Eddie realizes.

“I mean a professional that can do X-rays on you and maybe prescribe you something for the pain.” "Okay, now shut up. On my count."

Eddie sighs again and leans forward as Buck draps an arm around his shoulders and Eddie wraps an arm around the guy's waist. "One, two— three!"

It takes a bit and Eddie groans while they do it but in the end they manage to put Buck in a standing position, the blonde leaning all of his weight on Eddie.

It’s— kinda nice. Well… not really. But if the circumstances were different and if Buck didn't have a sprained ankle and if Chris wasn't crying and repeating apologies behind them and if a bunch of fifth graders weren't watching him, it would be nice.

Buck is heavy but not so much and Eddie can easily handle it and a side of him is glued to Eddie's, a constant source of heat and warmth and Eddie is so stupid and so sick that he can't help imagining them in different circumstances. His treacherous brain pictures Buck draping an arm around Eddie's shoulders maybe after a date, as they walk on a quiet street with only the moon and stars and the streetlamps casting a soft glow on them.

tagging (no pressure): @alyxmastershipper @shortsighted-owl @buddierights @monsterrae1 @bigfootsmom @lovebuck @starlingbite @bucktalias @messyhairdiaz @spaceprincessem @the-likesofus @ebdaydreamer @diazblunt @bekkachaos @prettyboybuckley @transbuck @transboybuckley @cowboy-buddie @cowboy-buck @mysteriouslyyounggalaxy and anyone else who wants to do it <333

#tease tidbit tuesday #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buck x eddie #buddie #buddie fic #buddie wip #911 fic #911 wip #my wips #my writing #nurse eddie teacher buck au

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artsyunderstudy · 19 days

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An ask game for writers to procrastinate working on your WIP(s)

Thanks for tagging me @cutestkilla @ivelovedhimthroughworse @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @valeffelees @emeryhall @monbons @thewholelemon @whatevertheweather @aristocratic-otter @bookish-bogwitch @orange-peony @shrekgogurt @wellbelesbian @theearlgreymage @ic3-que3n - I definitely shouldn't be procrastinating writing because I'm overdue but I'm a sucker for a good Q&A.

1. 🦈Tell us the name of your/ one of your WIP(s):

I technically have a handful of WIPs I haven't given up on posting but I'm not actively working on. Après la Pluie, le Beau Temps is the one I'm actively working on. I'm in the planning stages with All the Lonely People which is a fic I'm planning to cowrite with @cutestkilla my beloved. Then I have Sober, Water Grey, Close Your Eyes, and A Mild Case of Madness (yes I haven't given up on AMCOM I was actually thinking I'd try and finish it up after I'm done posting Après)

I don't actually work on more than one fic at a time but I also had like a flood of ideas once I was done writing Someone Wicked and that's why the pile of WIPs. Also I was trying to do discovery writing and realized that I hate it.

2. 🍄Describe your WIP/one of your WIP(s) in the format of “___ + ___ =___”

Why is this so hard???

Okay. Um.

Roommates who (pretend to) hate each other + alcohol induced vulnerability = publicly getting off with each other on a stranger's couch in the middle of a rager, probably to the dulcet sounds of goosebumps by travis scott.

3. 🌍What tags or warnings will one of your WIP(s) need if you intend to share it?

Amazingly my current WIP doesn't really require much bracing. But I am still intending very much to complete Sober (working title) which I talked a lot about last year. That would come with warnings for grief, alcohol and sexual assault. Which makes it sound so much worse than it is, but then again I always think that my writing isnt actually that sad but then i have people telling me i ripped their heart out of their chest and chewed on it so im not a good judge of that. i will say it definitely has more jokes than my usual fare.

4. 🧭An alternative title to one of your WIP(s)?

I am very decisive when it comes to titles, so I genuinely cant think of anything. I guess Sober, because I'm not sure that's the right title for the fic because it's not about addiction. It's about drunken hookups (and like, definitely some alcohol as a coping mechanism but like, mostly just uni students partying and going too hard as they are wont to do) so I was thinking of making it longer like "Kiss Me When You're Sober" but I dunno. It's not even close to done so I don't have to decide yet.

5. ⚠️Which WIP you're most likely to finish or update next?

Après la Pluie, le Beau Temps is the fic I'm actively working on and I'm going to post this guy next come hell or high water. It's just taking me a while, I'm a bit burnt out. But things they will come.

6. 💾What is your document of your WIP/ a WIP called? (not the stories actual title but what you’ve saved it as)

All my documents are the fic titles so nothing really fun there.

7. 🖍Post Any sentence(s) from your WIP.

“If you’re going to do this, do you actually trust him? After everything he’s done to you. Everything you’ve done to each other.” I sigh. “I don’t know.” All the things I’ve always believed I hated about him feel different now, filtered through a new lens. His relentlessness, his sharp edges, his poise. The way he moves across the pitch, and plays his violin, sweet-toned and sorrowful. The singe of his magick. “I just … see him,” I say quietly. “And I know I want him. The way I’m supposed to.”

8. ♻️A scrapped idea for your current WIP.

I don't know, I don't think I've scrapped any ideas for this WIP yet? Actually, I think earlier on in the planning I had wanted to have Niall and Dev being absolutely gross with their PDA through the whole thing, but I ended up writing a completely different side-story for them that's genuinely a ton better. Basically, they were a gag, and now they have an actual arc.

9. 🤔What’s a story you’d love to write but haven’t even started yet?

Gonna mirror Dre here, we have been planning a fic to cowrite but we both have other fanfic obligations to fulfill first, so it's a little bit on the backburner until we are both freed up. Again, to parrot her, it's a canonverse AU based on a movie we both adore, older (late 30's) strangers to lovers, a ghost story but in a cathartic way, not a scary way, developing relationship. We have a shared trello and I can't help but daydream about it. I am so very very eager to start working on it in earnest.

10. 🤡How many WIPS are you actively working on?

One, actively. Two if you count the fic with Dre which we occasionally can't help but get into long discussions about.

11. 🛠Is there a scene or anything in the WIP you are struggling with right now?

I am currently writing a genre I've never written before which has just been a little daunting. As well as this first chapter has zero simon or baz, probably, and THAT is hard too. But it has to be that way. For the setup. It just means I'm having to learn how to write a lot of side characters in a way I haven't done before, like Niamh and Niall (since i have a bit of experience with agatha and dev)

12. ❤️Not a question, just a second Kudos to send.

Everyone deserves so many many kudos.

Tags! @hushed-chorus @run-for-chamo-miles @j-nipper-95 @noblecorgi @facewithoutheart and @stitchyqueer <3

#tag game #artsyfic

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megs-98 · 19 days

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Petals and Poems

Ayyy, look who's back to writing ! :) only took me 6 weeks but that's okay coming back with a short fluff piece. it was originally my wip titled lounging about, but it kind of took a turn and the blorbos did what they wanted, hope yall enjoy <3

Pairings: Gale x f!reader

Summary: Gale is off to work after making you breakfast, so you decided to go shopping and leave some gifts for him to find once he arrives home. Also Tara is peak mom in this.

Tags: None, just two idiots in love :')

Word count: 1.9k

The breeze rustling the curtains and the smell of the salty sea air is what woke you this morning. The start of the spring season in Waterdeep. As you raised your arms over your head as you stretched you noticed that your love was not next to you in the bed. Sitting up on your elbows, you looked around the room, looking to see if he were out on the balcony or in the ensuite bathroom. You didn’t see him anywhere, but soon enough you realized where he was as you heard the clatter of pots and pans. Smiling to yourself, you finally removed your blankets as you walked over to the bathroom to freshen up for the day before bundling up in your robe and walking down the tower stairs.

“HONE–” You and Gale both rounded the bottom of the stairs at the same time as he was calling to you that breakfast was done, bumping into each other. You quickly grabbed his apron, a lovely gift from Astarion with embroidery reading “Kiss The Wizard”, and he grabbed your wrist, the two of you stabilizing each other. You heard a loud merow from Tara as she ran off after getting startled by the two of you. Between his fits of laughter, Gale gave you a kiss on the cheek and told you that he had prepared breakfast for the two of you.

As you entered the kitchen your nose was hit with the sweetness of berries, the yeastness of fresh rolls, and the savory smell of eggs with a side of cheese.

“This smells, and looks, delicious as usual, Gale. Thank you.” You said as you planted a kiss on his lips as he leaned against the counter. Gale hummed against you as he grabbed your waist deepening the kiss. You could feel his smug smile against you as you tried to pull away from him, laughing as you reached for his hands.

“The breakfast you slaved over is going to get cold if you don’t stop it.”

“As I’ve said before, my angel, you could sate me for a lifetime.” Gale responded as he winked at you before turning back to the counter to prepare the both of you a cup of tea. You rolled your eyes as you took a seat at the table to make yourself a plate. Soon enough, Gale joined you at the table with a steaming cup of tea as you both enjoyed breakfast, discussing the plans the two of you had for the day. Gale talking at length about the various meetings he had with other teachers at Blackstaff Academy and what he was needing to do to prepare for the upcoming term starting. You listened intently before explaining that you were just planning on going to the markets, specifically the flower market, to see what you could find then doing some light cleaning and reading upon your return to the tower. Gale excitedly asked that you show him whatever you buy when he gets home that evening.

“You’ve brought a certain sense of peace to the tower with your taste in decor, I can’t wait to see what you find.” You couldn’t help but blush as he voiced his adoration for you. It was something that still caught you off guard even though the two of you had been together for some time already.

You and Gale said your goodbyes to each other as he left the tower, sighing contentedly as you closed the door behind him. You made your way back upstairs with Tara to finish getting ready for the day. The two of you entered the shared bedroom and went straight to the closet as you discarded your robe. Browsing your options, you finally found some, hopefully, acceptable pieces. For being a tressym, Tara was quite the brutal fashion critic. You held two blouse options up for Tara after you chose what pants you were going to wear.

“What do you think, Tara, the pink or the blue blouse with these brown trousers?”

Tara circled your legs as she looked up at the two blouses considering the options very carefully.

She sighed a bit as she jumped on the bed. “My dear child, while you have improved in your fashion sense a bit since moving here, your choices are still abysmal. Trade the brown trousers for black and pair it with the pink blouse. The pink suits your features well.”

You did your best not to be upset because a winged cat just insulted you but you also appreciated her advice. She was a bit right, after spending years adventuring and wearing almost only armor during that time, you really weren’t sure how to dress yourself and definitely realized that being in the City of Splendors with Gale. You silently nodded and did as Tara said, getting dressed as she left, leaving you alone in the room. You slid on your boots, grabbed your coin purse, and left the tower heading for the market center.

You quite enjoyed walking through Waterdeep, it was so different to what you were used to, having only been in the Baldur’s Gate area before. Even your adventures didn’t take you far from home. The market center had been your favorite since Gale first took you there. All of the smells always hit you a few blocks before you reach your destination. The various spices, cinnamon, sage, rosemary, coriander, chilis, almost every spice you could think of. Be it sweet, savory, spicy, the vendors had it. There were also the fishmongers fileting their most recent catches of the morning. That wasn’t as nice of a smell, but the saltiness in the air from the ocean water helped get past the fishiness of it all.

Your favorite spot in the entire market, though, are the flower vendors. All the flowers you could imagine, from common flowers found in almost every Waterhavian garden, to rare flowers found in the far reaches of Faerun. You could spend hours sitting in the midst of the fresh floral scents that came from the lilacs, roses, even the flowering herbs. You found it very calming, and as much as you wanted to stay, you were there for specific flowers to decorate the tower with. You bought 3 large bundles of lavender, baby’s breath, and an assorted mix of primrose, varying from pink to purple and to white.

Happy with your purchase, you decided to make your way back to the tower. Humming as you walked along, you looked around and one of the various bookstores caught your eye. You decided it wouldn’t hurt to pop in and see if you could find anything for yourself and hopefully something for Gale. You were able to find a book that piqued your interest, a guide to the folklore surrounding The North and other areas throughout the Sword Coast. However, trying to find a book that you thought Gale might want was proving difficult. Every book you were finding you quickly realized that he either had a copy back home or read a similar book already. Accepting defeat you start putting back the books you had wanted for Gale, knowing that he would be happy that you found something for yourself. While putting the last book back, you see a small book that had been pushed behind other books on the shelf. Pulling it out, reading the title Whispers of the Muse: A Tale of Poetic Magic. A book detailing the story of a wizard, who turned his spells into beautiful poetry, and his journey finding love amidst an adventure. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself as the wizard in the book reminded you of your own wizard. You quickly went to the shopkeeper to pay for your finds and continued your return home.

Gale announced his arrival back to the tower with a tired “I’m home, my love!”. He hung up his coat and set his bag down by the door, rubbing his neck as he made his way into the kitchen. With a wave of his hand, the candles came to life and he was surprised to see that he was greeted by Tara, sitting on the kitchen table, glaring at him.

“Mr. Dekarios! Have you any idea what time it is? The Mrs. waited for you as long as she could, the poor woman spent so long this afternoon cleaning the house and getting dinner ready for you.”

Gale looked around as he listened to Tara’s words and did notice that the tower was more organized and less dusty than he had previously left it this morning. He also noticed the bouquet sitting on the table next to Tara and a gift. He ran his fingers over the soft petals of the primrose and smiled as he saw his favorite flower, lavender, paired with your favorite flower, primrose, put together so beautifully.

“Thank you for taking care of her, Tara. I do truly appreciate it. I will be sure to show her my thanks, and apologies for returning home late, in the most appropriate way I can. Also, my dear Tara, please remember not to eat the lavender, it gives you the most terrible stomach aches.”

Tara gave Gale a low growl as she glared at him again, leaving for her spot on the couch with a harsh flick of her tail. Gale chuckled to himself as he reached for the gift that Tav also left for him, finding a note placed on the top.

Gale, I’m sorry I’m not there to greet you when you get home. It’s getting late and our bed is calling my name with its siren song. There’s a plate of dinner saved for you. I hope you like the flowers and the book. I think you’ll find some similarities between you and the fictional wizard. I love you and I’ll see you soon.

Unwrapping the book, Gale read the title and was immediately intrigued. He skimmed through a bit of the book before deciding it could wait til morning. He had the love of his life in his bed and he needed her.

Making his way up the stairs, he noticed more vases of flowers. The various bouquets adding fragrant pops of color all throughout the tower. Gale made his way to the bedroom and slowly opened the door. Slightly hoping you were still awake in bed, he peeked in, finding you sprawled out in bed, taking up as much space as your body would allow with a book laying open next to you. Admiring your sleeping form, Gale couldn’t help but thank the gods for you and him finding each other and falling in love. He didn’t know what to do without you and he didn’t want to go back to living without you.

Getting into his sleep clothes, he carefully got into bed, pushing your limbs back onto your side of the bed before pulling you into him for a cuddle. Gale was worried he had fully woken you up at first, as you had started to stir, but you sleepily pulled him in closer, placing a kiss on his chest where the orb was and went right back to sleep with a small smile on your face. Gale carded his hand through your hair as he kissed the top of your head, silently thanking you for everything you had done for him and saying I love you in every way he knew how.

#bg3 #gale dekarios #fanfic #gale of waterdeep #gale x tav #tara the tressym #your honor they are in love

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welcometololaland · 7 months

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wip wednesday for y'all (on thursday) - thank you for your tags @rmd-writes @carlos-in-glasses @kiwiana-writes @heartstringsduet @cha-melodius @strandnreyes @hippolotamus @inflarescent @alrightbuckaroo @three-drink-amy @birdclowns @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut, i hope to get to the snippets to read on my lunchbreak and reblog! thank you for continuing to think of me, i love reading your stuff <3 here's a little something from the au @rmd-writes have just started entitled Call Me (By My Name):

“Watch it,” the guy snaps, stepping neatly to Carlos’ right as Carlos practically flattens himself against the rear of the truck. They stop for a moment, time seeming to stand still as Carlos stares unapologetically at the man in front of him.

The captivating eyes are framed with dark lashes, fanning out across perfect, high cheekbones and complemented by full, pink lips. They look breathtaking, even though they’re wearing a scowl, and Carlos wants to press the tip of his finger to one, just to see how soft they are. He bets this guy is a good kisser, which is a very inappropriate thing to be thinking at the scene of an accident.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, even though he hasn't done anything wrong. This man – this beautiful, intriguing person – has Carlos’ heart feeling as if it's sitting in his throat, threatening to leap right out of his mouth. “I didn’t—”

“Hey, you’re APD, right?” the guy says, breaking the breathless trance Carlos has seemingly devolved into. “Can you, I don’t know, do your job? My captain is out there breaking up fights between drivers and you’re hiding around the back of our truck.”

Carlos starles at the accusation. “I'm not hiding,” he protests. “I just got here!”

“Great, good!” the man bites back pointing around the other side of the truck with passion. “The fight is over there, just in case you wanted to start helping out.”

“Should I bypass dispatch and just ask you where I’m needed?” Carlos retorts, surprised by his own assertiveness. Mere seconds ago he’d been in some dreamlike state where this man was kissing him into oblivion, but it turns out that’s just a figment of Carlos’ overactive imagination. This guy is a dick.

The man scoffs and turns away, the fluoro on the back of his turnouts directing Carlos’ attention to his name. Carlos opens his mouth, unsure of what he’s planning to say, when TK Strand calls over his shoulder.

“Maybe don’t make us do your job for you next time.”

open tag because i'm very late, but also for @lightningboltreader (because you said you were almost finished one bed!!!!) @watmalik @fitzherbertssmolder @a-kinkajou @inkweedandlizards and @whatsintheboxmh (because i'm a fiend for art wips!) @lemonlyman-dotcom (i know you posted a fic today, but just checking!) @wandering-night19 (spoilers for next chapter maybe?) @chicgeekgirl89 (hows seafaring?) @freneticfloetry (no pressure! i hope your vacation is going well!) @goodways (make me laugh i dare you) @rosedavid (are the words working?) @theghostofashton (more exes more exes more exes??? no pressure obviously i'm just a fiend) @ladytessa74 (did i make up that you were writing a spooky season au?) @indomitable-love (football wip PLS!!!!) @athousandrooms (anything from you is my beloved) @orchidscript (haven't seen you around recently pls share if you have something!!!)

#call me (by my name)#wip wednesday #lolarae write #raelola write #911 lone star #tarlos #tk strand #carlos reyes

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howdoyousleep3 · 2 years

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Rating: Explicit (E) Word Count: ~ 5.2 K (i have no chill, it seems) Notable Tags: Mafia Boss Steve Rogers, Daddy Kink, Age Difference, Established Relationship, Manhandling, Spanking, Slapping (pussy and face), Crying, Rough Sex, Dirty Talk, Multiple Orgasms, Light Breathplay, Office Sex, Desk Sex, Possessive Behavior, Flirty Bisexual Bucky Barnes A/N: Ugh y'all, these two. This has been in my WIP folder for so so long now and I'm thrilled to finally finish it and share it, even if it almost ended me and even if I hated it by the end because I'd been staring at it for far too long. 😅 Special thank you to those who looked it over and reassured me constantly, @vilkasdaina, @maddiewritesstucky, and @sweeterthanthis. Find more of Daddy and his Kitten's story here. Read on Ao3 here. I hope you enjoy! 🧡

You try your hardest to not let the power go to your head.

The love of your life may be the feared and respected leader of the underbelly of the east coast, but you know who he comes crawling back to each night, who has the honor of worshiping him in a way that no one has had the privilege to before.

While you try your hardest to not let said power go to your head, it never fails to do just that each and every damn time you’re reminded of your possession over each other. And if it goes right to your pussy as well as your head, who can blame you?

The moment you catch Bucky’s eye from down the hallway, you can hear the relief in his voice, can see it in the way he takes a deep breath and lets his shoulders drop.

“Fuck, doll— I’ve never been happier to see someone in my whole fuckin’ life,” he exclaims as his eyes run down the line of your body, his eyebrow arching immediately. You aren’t sure why he’s surprised; he warned you that pulling out all the stops was necessary on a day like today.

“I’m happy I could make your day,” you joke as you reach for each other in greeting, Bucky’s fingers wrapping around your nape, lips pressing tightly against your cheek. He smells like spearmint, a bit musky like he’s worked up a sweat at some point during the day. You’re almost certain it’s sweat brought on by his boss and you already feel the need to apologize on his behalf for working Bucky up over what is assuredly nothing.

“Sweetheart, if you can fix his fucking attitude you’ll make more than just my day.”

You’re sure you should be offended on some level, degraded maybe, but being called in to help improve Steve’s piss poor mood makes you feel special, makes you hot right where it counts. Knowing that others have done what they can to help improve his mood, his sharp tongue and his short patience, with no success makes you feel unique, privileged, one of a kind. It makes you hold your chin high.

You know what your Daddy needs, know that you hold the answer to what will improve everyone’s day, starting with Steve’s own. Everyone knows why you’re here, everyone knows what you can bring to the boss that no one else can, and you aren’t ashamed in the slightest.

You’re almost tempted to drop the thin, knee-length jacket you’re donning to the floor right where you stand outside Steve’s office. Then there would be no trace of doubt left behind as to why you’re here and what you’re bringing to the boss.

“Anything I should know?” you inquire softly, Bucky immediately sighing and running a hand down his face in response to your question.

“Nothin’ new, same prick as always, just maybe…times ten. Can’t get two words out without him snapping at you, not one goddamn thing is good news. Dealt with some trouble down in the borough himself, went a bit far. Might still be bloodied up from that. Didn’t even lift his spirits any.”

It’s worse than you thought. Your plan immediately shifts in your head where you stand. He doesn’t need a docile, sweet partner— he needs that final push. You nod your head, mind quickly made up, and turn towards Steve’s office doors.

“You sure you don’t wanna stick around, Buck?” you tease quietly, and it’s indeed a bad day if Bucky, although he sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, shakes his head as he begins to walk away.

“Goddamn, you know I’d love to, doll. But I can’t stick around and look at his ugly fuckin’ mug for one more second; I gotta go do some damage control. He may owe me for this, but I owe you.”

Another time then.

You wouldn’t have needed Bucky’s warning to know that Steve is indeed having an awful day; the state of his office is enough of a sign that things are not going well. Chairs are misplaced, papers scattered and quite obviously unorganized on both the coffee table and his desk. Steve enjoys a calm work environment, is a man that prioritizes tasks daily, enjoys sunlight and openness, demands serenity from the aspects of his life he can control.

Steve is not having a very good day.

You don’t bother locking the door; you aren’t worried about others seeing you with the boss. You almost hope it happens; it might improve his mood even further. You make quick work of the belt on your coat, slipping it off from your shoulders and draping it along the back of a chair. The crisp air of Steve’s office slips up your spine, your neck, down your nearly nude form. It’s comforting as it spreads across your heated body, has your shoulders squaring on their own accord.

Your matching lingerie set is black and sheer, leaves nothing to the imagination with the strings of your thong resting high on your hips and your bra cupping your breasts perfectly. You leave your heels on, just as he’d like, same with your stockings. Steve is weak for the feel of their sheerness, softness, on his skin and you’ll take any sort of help you can get.

His back is turned to you, his attention placed solely on whatever it is he is looking at at the table behind his desk. Even hunched over and irritated, he exudes such natural power and dominance you can’t help the warmth that builds between your legs, the way your eyelids droop at the sight of him alone. His dark slacks, his crisp white dress shirt that’s open at the collar, the ring on his pinky and the matching gold of a watch at his wrist, the ink that litters his body with purpose— he’s so obviously a man in charge.

You want to console him, want to press your lips to his temple and hum, want to sit yourself in his lap and ground him, but from what Bucky has told you, that won’t work today. You're racking your brain of how to proceed when Steve is the one to speak up first.

You should have known that he would be more than aware of your presence. You’re the one that has snuck into his office unannounced and here he is, speaking up with a stern enough voice that it startles you.

“What are you doin’ here, kitten?”

His tone demands an answer, an honest one and a quick one. It’s an impatient tone you aren’t used to but one that fits this environment. You’re bristled at his shortness but you don’t let it show, keeping your chin high and voice firm.

“What do you think I’m doing here?” you respond with, beginning to slowly make your way in Steve’s direction, heels muted against the sprawling rug in his office, trailing your fingertip over the leather seats as you prowl. He scoffs then, a tiny noise that could be mistaken for something it isn’t, but to you it almost feels like a slap to the cheek, and not the kind you’re fond of.

You continue to take steps in his direction nonetheless.

He turns and looks over his shoulder and there’s a brief moment where you feel you’ve won, where you feel victorious in your purpose in the way he allows himself to drink you in, eyes damn near a physical touch as they roam your form. It is but a moment though, and he’s quick to turn his attention back in the other direction.

You don’t think he’s ever rejected you.

In fact, he’s always been quick to do the opposite, to make you more than aware that he craves you day and night.

You’re immediately miffed, more than so. You look like a fucking bombshell, you left work early, you’re ready to help melt the stress away from your boyfriend’s day— how dare he not drop everything and crawl in your direction?

You think you’re angry now, but then you hear him mumble a curt, “I’m a bit busy here, sweetheart,” and that’ll do it.

Fuck him.

You can’t even stop to see this situation from his point of view, can’t calm your emotions long enough to consider the circumstances that brought you here. You’re standing here in stockings and sheer lingerie and red bottoms and he wants to dismiss you? No, no. You don’t even hesitate to go for the kill, go right for what will piss him off the most.

“Oh, that’s fine,” you start, voice deceivingly angelic as you glance down at your pristine manicure, paid for by him of course. “Bucky seemed to think I could come make your day, but if you want to be a dick about it, I’ll go see if he is willing to take full advantage of all of this.”

You don’t even wait for him to say anything, digging your heel into the carpet as you turn your back on him, your body trembling all over in anger. You make sure he gets an eyeful though, the cherry on top surely being the sway of your hips, the view of your ass he can never say no to.

You make it two steps towards the door after reaching for your coat before his hands are on you.

He wraps a thick arm around your waist, his other hand coming up to curl around the front of your throat, yanking you back against his chest. You can immediately feel the way his own body trembles with caged emotion, and while it should be a comfort to you, it is anything but. It could be pent up emotions from the day, it could be ones you’re bringing out right now. It could be a combination of the two. Either way, you do not find solidarity in your shared outbursts.

The fight within you is strong. You’re ready to take him on and if he wants to go about it in such a physical way, then so be it.

“You wanna run that by me again, kitten?” he spits lowly into your ear, holding you roughly against the rigid line of his much larger body. You don’t make it easy for him, twisting and bucking as much as you can as he pulls you back further into his office, further away from the door. As physically useless as the fight is, pushing back feels good. You dig your blood red nails into his forearm, thrash against his hold.

“Yeah, sure,” you bite out like a brat, making sure to speak clearly. “If you’re not going to take advantage of me, I’m sure Bucky would love to. In fact—”

Your words are muffled by his hand, the last of them drowned out by his growl. You kick over a chair as he picks you up off the floor, knocking it to the ground as you flail, and as you reach his desk, you happily tear your teeth into Steve’s palm. He only grunts in frustration, hand coming back down to your neck in an instant, frustration evident in the way his fingers curl around the column of it.

“Shut your fuckin’ mouth,” he whispers against your temple, and you can’t stop your husky laugh as it tumbles out of your mouth.

“Daddy doesn’t mean that.”

With a noise of frustration, he has you shoved over his desk at the waist, hip bones digging sharply into the expensive oak. Your coat is long forgotten a few steps back and his hand is on your ass without pause, squeezing roughly at one cheek and then the other. The set of smacks that follow are startling, painful and succinct.

You love it.

The huff you let out is intended to be one of irritation, of shock, but instead it comes out laced with throaty pleasure. Damn Steve Rogers and the size of his hands, his strength, his intimate knowledge of everything that makes your pussy throb and your walls crumble for him and only him.

He may have you deliciously and physically restrained, but you’re still more than upset he didn’t want a taste of what you’ve brought to him, a taste of this. But he still hasn’t covered your mouth, and you’re not quite done pushing his buttons.

“Daddy loves it when my mouth is wide open. Right, Daddy? Didn’t you say something like that last night?”

You rarely speak to him this way, goading and aggressive, and you momentarily question whether or not you’re crossing a line. That is, until you feel his cock dig into the cushion of your ass cheek, the grind unintentional if his grumble turned bitten-off groan tells you anything. Perfect— you’ve just figured out how to help improve your boyfriend’s mood.

You roll your ass back into his cock, swirl your hips back against his bulge.

With a snarl, he flips you, tosses you onto your back onto his desk.

Goddamn. You pause for a moment to take note of how fucking hot Steve is when he’s angry. It’s different when it’s at you, you see this now. You’ve witnessed his anger directed at others, but you’ve not once been on the receiving end of it. Maybe you should make him angry more often.

His chest heaves as he looks down at you, stormy eyes slow to rake over your surely flushed body, a normally slicked-back lock of hair curling over his forehead. The tattoos that lace the column of his throat seem more pronounced with his open collar and his heaving chest. There isn’t a stray beard hair in sight, the salt and pepper hairs trimmed close to his skin. The pause drags on for a few seconds more and you almost feel the need to heel and spread your legs and to give in. But that’s not what Steve needs.

Instead you spread your legs and bring the point of your heel up to dig into his shoulder.

He visibly grits his teeth as he gazes down hotly at you, his hands coming to grip your waist tight enough to make you wince. But you don’t break eye contact, even as he leans into your heel, even as he digs it further into his shoulder. Fuck, you’re in love with this man.

“You think Bucky would tell me to keep my mouth closed?” you whisper without shame, leaning up onto your elbows to drive the point home. “You think he’d appreciate me coming into his office in his favorite pair of panties of mine, just about begging to be fucked?”

It’s harsh, yes, but you’re still upset and you have a job to complete; you’re not a quitter. And it pays off immediately when Steve all but growls, “You think he can give you somethin’ I can’t?”

Perfect.

You dig your foot into his chest with a hard shove.

“No.”

You can’t see the confusion in Steve’s features but you know it’s there. He can stay light on his feet all he wants but you’re hard to keep up with, you know this.

Dropping your foot from his shoulder, you wrap both of them around his waist, damn near yanking him towards you. The impressive bulge in his pants is hard as steel and you whimper softly yet unashamedly when it grinds in tight against your panty-covered pussy, eyes still on his. Feeling his need for you, it’s easy for the anger to slightly clear and for you to finally consider the kind of day he’s had, that he needs you to prove to him that this is part of your purpose as his partner.

“No, he can’t, Steven,” you sternly tell him, voice low yet demanding as you reach for the collar of his shirt, tugging. “No one can give me what you can give me.”

A spark of a flame reaches his eyes then, hitting him right where it counts, right in that possessive bone in his body. You speak into his mouth, his warm breath on your tongue causing your chest to constrict.

“But if you want to be a dick about me showing up looking hot as fuck, showing up just so you can fuck me and go about your day as the boss, then yes— I’m gonna tease you about someone else appreciating me”

Steve rolls his hips slowly, deeply, rumbles as he rakes his hands up your torso to palm roughly at your breasts over your bra, your nipples pebbling immediately. He pinches them both before his hands are moving on. You hiss, clit throbbing at the rough attention.

“You’re a real fuckin’ piece’a work. You know that?”

You dig your heels into his back when you huff, brazenly nipping at his chin.

“Of course I know that. Now, fuck me, Daddy. Take it out on me, use me to feel better. Come on.”

Steve never needs to be told twice; he’s a man of action. He takes full advantage of being told he has complete access to your body, reaching for the strings of your panties and ripping them down your legs carelessly.

“Of fucking course you wore the stockings. Knew from the moment you walked in here. With these on, you’re up to no fuckin’ good.”

He grabs and squeezes at handfuls of your thighs as he speaks and you finally cave and give into the moment with a whine, head falling back onto the desk. Steve shoves your legs apart in the air around his body, his hand coming down tightly over your bare pussy, first one time and then a few smacks after that. Fuck. The sting of it is exactly what you want, what this moment is worthy of, and you clench desperately around nothing in response.

“Motherfucker,” you damn near snarl, and where you’d normally spread your legs further and pout, you try your hardest to pull them tightly closed. Steve needs a fight, needs to burn off more energy than a normal fuck will provide him with. He proves you right once more when he pries your legs apart, uses a kind of force that you rarely see. You’re no match for his strength. Your legs are barely pressed together for two seconds before he’s got them spread yet again with a growl.

You barely get out a hiss of “Yes,” before he’s draped over you, mouth latching onto your neck. It’s so much. In your head you hadn’t got as far as this, your plan only reaching up to you convincing Steve to have his way with you, and even that hadn’t gone as planned. You hadn’t considered how difficult it would be to keep your goal and purpose in the forefront of your mind while Steve actively ravaged your body.

His mouth is brutal on your neck, the press of teeth and the suction of lips enough to leave you gasping, your hands making weak attempts at pushing him away. You feel him reach between your bodies and fumble with his belt, the zipper of his pants, and you force out an impatient noise to rile him up further.

“Come on, Daddy— give it to me,” you murmur, reaching around to dig your hands into his ass. “Show this little pussy why you’re her Daddy, why you own her.”

“Fuckin’ hell, kitten…”

He brings his hand up to his mouth, collects spit on a few of his fingers, brings them back down to his cock. He doesn’t slam his way inside of you, and while he ensures you aren’t in unwanted pain, that first deep slide is enough to shove you halfway to your climax already. The girth of him never fails to take your breath away, to send you sailing into orbit.

His deep and appreciative groan is enough to have made all of this shit worth it, the chaos that was this almost failed attempt at providing your boyfriend with stress relief. It’s also enough to send you that much closer to your orgasm.

There is no difference between the pushiness and aggression leading up to this point and this moment; Steve fucks you with unabashed emotion and need. You aren’t used to this, this sort of raw need, this force. The walls of your pussy strain to take him, to adjust. The sensation of Steve on top of you, between your legs, the whole weight of him pressing you into his desk, being selfish is foreign.

Where Steve is usually smooth and focused and giving, this version of him is anything but.

He isn’t concerned about you for a second, not your pleasure or your feelings. His hands delve up into your hair, the both of them, twisting them as he fucks roughly up into your pussy, grinding and rolling and humping. He holds you where he wants you, restricts your movements and keeps you where he can best get his dick soaked. It’s a form of bliss you’ve not once experienced, and your shared eye contact, this heavy gaze he refuses to break, makes you choke on a sob.

“Fuck it,” you bite out against his mouth, barely able to hear your words over the rush of blood in your ears, over the sound of him fucking into you with abandon. “You fuck that pussy like no one else can, Daddy. That’s Daddy’s pussy.”

Steve curses. Even as you say the words, you feel them directly in your clit, the throb of them intense. The forceful grinds with every other thrust presses the base of Steve’s cock tight against your clit, each one making you choke down a whimper. You’re shaking where you lay, nails digging encouragingly into the meat of Steve’s ass, legs spread wide, knees pressed back towards your shoulders. Steve has full access to you, as he deserves. The glide of him is sublime, the stretch of him enough to leave you panting, in and out, in and out.

Your pussy feels so good being used the way that it is. You can’t catch your breath.

You aren’t the least bit surprised when your orgasm tears through you.

“Oh shit, that’s yours, that’s Daddy’s. That pussy comes for Daddy, all for—”

“Jesus Christ, you’re gonna milk me fuckin’ dry. Haven’t even been inside’a you for a minute and you’re fallin’ apart.”

You openly sob, tears springing to your eyes as the sensitive walls of your pussy suck Steve in, flutter and pulse around his girth. He doesn’t stop, cock digging into that sweet spot inside of you, movement prolonging your orgasm as you groan. Your pussy is so wet you can feel it soaking the inside of your thighs, the base of Steve’s cock.

You have half the mind to note that your plan is working, that Steve is finding his footing again, that he’s confident and feeling dominant, in charge. You can’t hold back your lax smile, and the way Steve all but scoffs at the sight of it makes you turn your face and reach for his teeth with your jaw.

“Surely that’s not all you’ve got,” you hear yourself pant shakily, your voice and the way your limbs tremble betraying you in an instant. “Come on, big daddy— show ‘em why you’re the boss.”

He’s climbing onto the desk, still inside you, without a second thought.

“Yes, yes—”

“Un-fucking-believable…”

The smile that’s spread across your face is only present for a few seconds before you’re biting it away, Steve’s hands in your hair moving, one curling to scruff you by the nape of your neck. The other tears at your bra, impatiently ripping one cup down, your breast spilling out and into his waiting hand. He squeezes at you roughly, fingers smacking down tightly over your nipple.

Your head bounces with his thrusts, only to be pulled back by Steve’s hand on your nape. He uses you like a doll, like a toy. It all makes you want to scream: the new angle allowing for Steve to fuck messiliy into you, the complete physical dominance, the animalistic noises Steve continues to let out, how wet and wrecked you feel and sound. It’s enough for tears to begin to stream down your face.

Looking back, you’ll surely blame it on how startlingly emotional you became as he fucked you mercilessly, how unprepared you were for your body and mind’s reactions. You may blame it on how cockdrunk you are, how out of your mind the feeling of Steve dicking you down so thoroughly made you.

You raise your hand and bring it down hard across his cheek.

The crack of it is so shocking to you, both in sound and sensation on your palm, that you gasp raggedly. The moment seems to have called for it, such harsh treatment, but you hold your breath when Steve grunts, hips stilling, eyes wild when his head snaps back down to look at you.

When he doesn’t say anything, you whimper, your whimper easily turning into a hiccup, too nervous to speak.

He punches his hips forward, silencing you with the stretch of him, with feeling him up in your guts. You blink back your tears as you bite down onto your lip.

“Again,” he finally rasps out, the hand on your nape slipping around to the front of your throat, squeezing. “Fuckin’ hit me again, kitten.”

That’s it for the both of you.

Your opposite hand is up in the air and you do what you can to bring it down onto Steve’s other cheek with another sob, all while he fucks into you so roughly your body scrapes across his desk with every thrust. The smack is sloppy and only slightly makes contact with his jaw, but it’s enough to send the two of you hurtling towards your orgasms.

Yours is so blinding it almost hurts, the way it bursts from your center and outwards. You can’t make a noise, a scream lodged in your throat, body making a valiant attempt at arching up into Steve’s own, shaking. You lay there and take your climax, let Daddy rob it from your body, drink it up.

You know he’s coming by the way he squeezes your throat and bites out a gritty, “Fuck.”

“You better think twice about comin’ into my office and teasin’ me with your pussy again, little girl,” he pants into your ear, voice rougher than you’ve ever heard it to be, just able to cut through the fog in your mind. “Fuck, you wanna come up into my office tellin’ me you’re gonna go let somebody else have what’s mine?”

There’s not an ounce of fight left in you as your pussy continues to pulse and quiver around his cock, as you lay there splayed for him, taking his load.

“No, no! It’s Daddy’s, s’daddy’s pussy, all for Daddy. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Daddy. I’m—”

You’re babbling nonsense, the roll of Steve’s hips not slowing, the stroke of his cock along your inner walls making you dizzy. Your voice has turned nasally, small and whiny, just like Daddy likes it. Steve’s hand trembles around your neck. You can feel his come leak out of you, how messy you feel as he continues to fuck into you, hips slowing but not halting like you’re used to.

“No,” he groans, shaking his head, his lips smearing messily against your cheek, your jaw. “You’ve got nothin’ to be sorry for, baby. You know me so fuckin’ well, know just what your Daddy needs. You’re perfect, fuck, a perfect goddamn angel.”

Euphoria.

There’s nothing else he could have said that would make you feel the way you do now. You’re pushing overstimulation, thighs trembling around Steve’s waist, chest heaving as you’re left sucking air into your lungs. Your body and mind have been sent to hell and back and you didn’t realize how badly you wanted to hear Steve reassure you that this was okay, that everything you’ve done and said was acceptable.

You pull him down to you with another hitch in your breath, fingers slipping through his hair, arms winding around his neck.

He begins to litter your face with kisses once he finally does slow and eventually stops the slide of his cock, hissing, body settling down onto your own with a heaving sigh. The weight of him is hefty but welcomed, the reminder of his sturdiness something that you let settle into your bones.

“Don’t be sorry, kitten. I won’t allow it. Not after that.”

You hum.

“So bossy,” is all you murmur into his beard, your legs slipping down the backs of his own, holding him close.

“I’m pretty sure you were just tellin’ me to prove I was the boss, so…”

You merely harrumph in response; you’re done arguing for the day, possibly the week.

After a few blessed, silent moments of breathing and coming down from your shared high together, you begin to let a sense of accomplishment slip through your mind. You were brought in to help, to bring Steve out of his head and to improve his mood and therefore the mood of everyone else in his presence. You’ve made a difference, have helped your Daddy, were thoroughly dicked down in the process. And even though this was more emotionally heavy than you anticipated, you feel good.

“I’m sorry,” Steve eventually breaks the silence with, pulling his head back in order to look you in the eyes as he apologizes. He always has to look you in the eyes when you’re sharing serious words. Communication is something he values highly, your constant honesty with one another a must for him and in turn you. In his line of work, how he spends his days, he can’t risk the two of you not being on the same page.

He kisses your lips softly, his hands slipping through your hair.

“I’m sorry for not giving you the attention you deserved when you walked in here, baby.”

You shake your head. “I should have been more cognizant of your mood and how your day has gone. I’m sorry too.”

He kisses you again, once and then twice, lips soft and gentle with your own.

“What I’m not going to apologize for,” he whispers then, voice deep and mischievous, “is everything that led up to you smackin’ me.”

You giggle, first softly and then louder as Steve grips your chin and doesn’t let you shy away from his eye contact. He nips at your chin.

“Fuck, sweetheart. Where the hell did that come from?”

“I don’t know! I…it just felt right. I’m so—”

“Nope,” he cuts you off quickly, nose nudging your own. “No apologizing, I already said that. You’re perfect. I’m serious— this was just what I needed.”

You sigh into his next set of kisses, exhaustion slowly seeping into your bones.

“Well, you’ll have to thank Bucky for this later.”

“I will do no such thing.”

He slips from your body then, motioning for you to stay where you are and to not move. You don’t think you could sit up without help. He comes back from the adjacent bathroom looking everything provider and Alpha and Daddy, slacks buttoned and white shirt tucked into them. He cleans you off with a warm washcloth, puts the pieces of your sexy getup that are out of place back to where they belong. His hands linger on your thighs, stroking at the softness of your stockings.

He touches you with such gentleness and care. It’s so different from the touches he gave you just moments before, the ones you can feel growing sore already.

“I love you,” you find yourself whispering once he’s pulled you into a sitting position on his desk, taking a seat behind it in his chair. He pulls you easily to the edge, takes both of your hands into his own, brings them each to his lips.

“I love you as well, sweetheart,” he purrs, hands moving to grip at your hips, to pull at them like he does when he’s feeling ready for another round. Surely he isn’t, not after that. He leans forward, kisses the top of each of your breasts.

“I was rough on you wasn’t I, kitten? Gonna have to make it up to her later, get my mouth on her and give her kisses to—”

Bucky doesn’t even knock when he enters the office, walks right in as if it’s his own. He doesn’t care that you’re practically naked, that you’ve obviously been fucked to the edge of your life, that the two of your are surely flushed and marked enough to prove what you’ve just been spending your time doing. He walks right up to Steve’s desk, hands in his pockets, casual.

“You missed the show, Buck,” Steve grumbles, pulling you closer and gathering you into his lap, not wanting your near naked body to be seen by his right hand man. As if he hasn’t seen it before. Bucky whistles low, throws a wink over your way that you catch over your shoulder.

“Oh, no no no,” Bucky rumbles knowingly. “I don’t think anyone in this house missed that show…Daddy.”

#howdoyousleep kinktober 2022 #my writing #howdoyousleep #mafia daddy steve #mafia daddy steve and reader #put your loving hand out #female reader #reader insert #this one barely got posted lol #these beans y'all! time and attention suckers!#(i'm joking yet v serious)

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thesoftestirises · 2 years

Text

devour

♡ pairing: marc x reader, steven x reader, jake x reader ♡ rating : 18+ ♡ word count : 2.8k ♡ warnings : nipple play, oral (f receiving), fingering, dirty talk, name calling ♡ summary : steven decides to take you skinny dipping ♡ an : unbeta’d and adapted from an already existing wip - i decided to get something out while i’m still working on my jake/reader bet fic! please feel free to let me know if you see any mistakes

“Are we almost there?”

“Almost, just a few more steps.”

You shook your head and smiled. You hadn’t known Steven, and by extension, Marc and Jake, for very long. Originally, they were your security detail, keeping you protected as you helped them decode your father’s notes. But in the short amount of time you had spent together, you were completely endeared to all of them. It was only natural that your relationship went from one of necessity to one of mutual love and admiration.

“Is this part of an elaborate plan to kill me and get rid of my body?” You joked.

“I can’t answer that without a lawyer present,” he said, his tone full of mirth. “We’ve just got to get down this hill and then we’ll be there.”

The sky opened up overhead and provided enough light for you to finally be able to see your surroundings. At the bottom of the hill was a pond, surrounded by weeping willows and wildflowers. The water reflected the moon and the stars on a perfectly still surface. Only the calls of crickets and owls filled the air. Fireflies danced around the two of you as the crisp summer breeze blew. It was an image too beautiful to be recreated on canvas.

“Do you like it?” Steven asked.

“I love it,” you said, turning to look at him. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

“No need to thank me just yet, you haven’t even gotten in,” he said.

“Gotten in?” You repeated, knitting your brows together. “Steven, I’m wearing pajamas. And we’re supposed to be in hiding, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“So you’ve said.”

“Are you suggesting skinny dipping right now?”

“Well, I’m not suggesting you get in the water with your fuzzy pants.”

“Steven!”

“Y/N,” he said, his tone playfully mocking as he pretended to frown at you. “Stay by the edge if you want, but I’m getting in.”

He stripped off his shirt right in front of you with no shame. You tried to keep your eyes elsewhere but your curiosity was overwhelming. Your gaze moved down his body, admiring the line of his shoulders, his well defined abs, and the veins that disappeared down his low slung pants. Of course it wasn’t enough that he had a beautiful face and a charming personality. He just had to be built like a Greek God. Everything about Steven seemed to be designed to test you and you were failing miserably.

You turned around before he could take off sweatpants and heard him chuckle behind you. Thankfully, he didn’t say anything. When you turned back, he was chest deep in the water. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, his lips parting in a soundless sigh. Water droplets had collected along his shoulders and collarbones, leaving diamond like sparkles all across his skin that highlighted the Star of David around his neck. Like this, he looked even more ethereal.

“Are you really not going to join me?”

You sighed and stood up. “Turn around.”

Steven grinned and did as you asked. You stripped off your shirt and glanced behind you, making sure that Steven wasn’t watching. When you were certain he wasn’t peeking, you finished taking off the rest and clumsily got into the warm water next to him. He smiled at you and came closer.

“It’s nice, right?”

“It’s weird,” you corrected. “We’re both naked.”

“It’s only weird if you make it weird. Remove that stick from your butt, spoilsport,” he said, splashing you in the face.

You gaped in mock offense and splashed him back. “Who are you calling a spoilsport? I’m tons of fun!”

“Yeah?” He said, flicking water at you. “I don’t think so.”

The two of you quickly descended into a playful water fight, splashing each other and trying to avoid the other’s attacks. It was dumb and immature, but it made you feel free. For a moment you forgot about all your problems and it was just you and Steven. He looked so happy, his eyes were filled with galaxies when he smiled. You wished you could freeze time and keep him like this forever.

“Time out,” you gasped, giggling breathlessly. “I need a second.”

“There are no time outs. You’ve got to surrender,” he smirked.

“Jesus. Fine. I surrender, your highness,” you said, rolling your eyes. “What do you want as your prize?”

“You.”

You laughed until you noticed his serious expression. “Steven?”

��Not quite, cariño.”

“Jake?”

He didn’t respond, but you didn’t need him to. There was only one person who ever called you cariño.

He was close, so close. How did you not notice? Your legs were tangled together and his face was barely an inch from yours. You could practically count each of his eyelashes. For a moment, the world around you went silent and all you could hear was the sound of his breathing. He gently cupped your jaw and stared at your lips. You subconsciously licked them and watched the way his gaze followed your tongue. He moved closer until you could feel his warm breath over your lips and his skin on yours.

You closed your eyes and pressed your lips to his hesitantly. The contact was like being struck by lightning. You instantly melted into his hold. How had you ever lived without him? The hand he had on your cheek moved to the back of your head while you wrapped your arms around his neck. You pressed in deeper and opened your mouth, letting him reacquaint his tongue with yours. You missed his taste so much, you couldn’t get enough and chased after his lips when he pulled back for air.

“So eager, cariño,” he chuckled, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“You’re just as bad.”

He hummed and pulled you even closer until there wasn’t any space separating the two of you. He lifted one of your legs and wrapped it around his hips. You could feel the line of hard cock pressed up against your inner thigh. There was no barrier between the two of you. If he wanted to push himself into you, he could. Your mouth went dry at the concept.

“I’m worse,” he whispered, kissing your cheek. “I’m desperate for you. You’re all I can think about these days. You haunt my dreams and my fantasies. Even in church, all I can think about is fucking you.”

“Oh God,” you said, dropping your head against his shoulder. “Jake, please.”

“Patience, cariño,” he said, moving his hands to your breasts and toying with your nipples while you squirmed. “It’s not fun if I just devour you whole.”

You lifted your head and sloppily slotted your lips together. When you pulled back, you were an inch away from his face, your nose pressed against his. “Hasn’t anyone told you not to play with your food?”

“I think the food seems to like being played with,” he said, tilting his head a faux innocent smile on his face. ”Can I eat you out?”

“Would you?” You asked, eyes wide.

“Of course. Might be a little complicated like this, but I’ve got an idea.”

Jake pulled you out the water and settled the two of you down on a pile of your own clothes. You shivered in the cool air, your skin beginning to prickle up in goosebumps. Jake kissed down the line of your body and opened your legs with very little preamble. You squirmed as he shuffled down so his face was positioned right at the apex of your thighs. He examined your entrance with his fingers, spreading your folds open and toying with your clit. You could feel yourself getting wetter under his focused stare and grew embarrassed.

“Why are you looking at it like that?” You whined, throwing your head back.

“Because it’s pretty,” he said, licking a wide stripe over your inner folds. You gasped and lifted your hips, surprised by the sudden movement. Jake’s tongue was so warm over your sensitive skin, it felt like he was lighting you on fire. “Hold still, cariño. I can’t touch you if you’re going to thrash around like that.”

You nodded and tossed your hands to the side, grabbing at the clothes Jake laid out as a makeshift blanket. He returned his attention back to your wetness, this time focusing on your clit. It took everything in you to not move. Even the lewd, wet noises Jake was creating between your legs was driving you wild. You bit down on your lower lip harshly, nearly drawing blood as he sucked the little bead into his mouth and circled it with his tongue. After a few minutes of torture, he pulled off and replaced his mouth with his thumb so he could look at you.

“You can scream as much as you’d like. No one can hear you out here.”

“Fuck,” you moaned, arching your back. “Fuck, you’re going to kill me.”

“No, I’m going to ruin you,” he promised, kissing your inner thigh and biting into the soft flesh. “Look at you. You came to me so pure, angel. Now you’re spreading your legs in front of my face like a common whore. Beg for me.”

“Please, Jake,” you cried. “Please put your tongue on me.”

“You’re out of practice, Y/N. Come on, I want to hear you sound desperate.”

“Jake, please. No one can touch me like you. You make me feel better than anyone,” you said, flushing with heat.

“No one?”

“Not a soul, just you. Please, please, please. I need you so bad I feel like I’m going to pass out.”

Jake finally conceded and spread your folds wide to lick right over your hole. You moaned and threaded your fingers through his hair, pulling at his silk like strands to try and get him to push his tongue deeper into you. He traced along your opening and pulled back to spit at your entrance. He used a finger to nudge his saliva inside of you and lifted his hungry gaze to your face. “Are you close?”

You nodded and wrenched your eyes shut.

“Eyes on me. Use your words, cariño.”

You forced your exhausted body onto your elbows and looked at his face. His mouth and chin were glistening wet, but his eyes were focused and unaffected. You suddenly like a helpless animal between a handsome predator’s teeth. “I’m close.”

“Don’t look away. I want to watch you fall apart.”

You nodded, desperate and dizzy with pleasure. He smiled at the glassy look in your eyes before returning his focus to bringing you over the edge. One harsh suck at your clit and you were tumbling into the void of his dark gaze, gasping as he held your overstimulated clit in his mouth and continued licking at you.

“What-?”

“I want you to come for me again,” he told you, pressing an open mouthed kiss to your folds before pulling back and replacing his lips with his fingers. “You think you can handle that?”

You hurried to nod and whimpered as he tortured your sore clit with his thumb. He eventually moved his pointer finger to your entrance, teasing the rim before sinking inside. You moaned, toes curling at the pleasurable pain of Jake stroking along your hypersensitive walls. He continued kissing and biting at your thighs while you sighed at the featherlike brush of his lips against your most intimate areas. Jake managed to push a second finger in alongside the first when you seized up and came again, crying his name and thrashing in his hold. He relented and withdrew from your body, placing gentle kisses all along your stomach and thighs.

“You were so good for me. My perfect little angel.”

You sighed and collapsed, closing your eyes. “I think I could fall asleep like this.”

“Tempting, but I don’t think you’d be too happy with that choice in the morning. Come on, cariño,” he said, taking your hands into his and pulling you up and into his chest.

You hummed and nuzzled into the crook of his neck, pressing your lips right against his pulse point. You were happily basking in his warmth when a thought occurred to you. “I didn’t get you off.”

He laughed and stroked your cheekbone with his thumb. “It’s okay, angel, you don’t need to reciprocate. I liked touching you.”

“But you got me off twice! Let me suck your dick,” you insisted, lifting your head away from his shoulder and looking at him with a pout.

“Next time, okay?” He said and kissed your lips.

You pulled away and winced at the bitter, musky flavor. “Ugh, is that what I taste like? That’s awful.”

Jake paused, closing his eyes. When he opened them next, his posture shifted minutely, becoming more rigid and proper in the way you generally associated with a different alter.

“Marc?” You asked, searching his face.

“Hi, baby,” Marc said, a soft smile spreading across his lips.

“Guessing you saw all of that?”

“Mhmm. And I heard what you said about your taste.”

“Right, I have no idea how you guys can stand that,” you said, laughing self deprecatingly.

“You taste addictive to me. I could spend the rest of my life between your thighs.”

he told you, completely destroying the playful atmosphere and sending it plunging back into a dizzying, heady territory.

He kissed you again and reached between your legs to return his fingers to your drenched folds. He gently rubbed your swollen and abused clit as he licked into your mouth and murmured dirty things against your lips. “This pussy is mine, isn’t it? Mine to touch and play with?”

“Yes, it’s yours. I’m yours.”

“Can I get you to come one more time, baby?” He asked, kissing the corner of your mouth. “I want to watch you fall apart in my arms.”

Your thighs were practically shaking and you were still exhausted from the previous orgasms he had given you. If you had an ounce of sense left in you, you would have politely declined. But as it was, you did not. You nodded your consent and allowed him to rearrange you so your back was pressed against his chest. He wrapped an arm securely around your stomach and returned his free hand to your entrance.

“Look,” he whispered, kissing the shell of your ear. “See how pretty your pussy is?”

You watched his fingers stroke along your inner lips and gasped, the image so much more intense than the feeling. It was one thing to know you were wet, it was another thing to see yourself dripping all over someone else’s hand. You watched him sink a finger into you and squirmed as you began to feel him pressing along your inner walls.

“It’s so small and delicate, isn’t?” he said, his voice low and quiet as pulled his finger out to the first knuckle before slowly pushing back in. “My cock could tear your poor little body in half.”

“Marc,” you moaned, reaching backwards and threading your hand into his hair.

“I love the way you say my name,” he whispered, slipping a second finger into you and holding you still as you twisted in his grip. He spread his fingers inside you, attempting to stretch out your entrance. “You’re still so fucking tight. I want to wreck you so bad, baby. Do you think you can take a third?”

“Yes, fuck. Please.”

Marc kissed the top of your head and slowly traced his ring finger over your hole. Your breath caught in your throat as he sunk into you, his movements agonizingly slow. The breach of the third finger burned more than you thought it would. You bit back a scream once he was fully buried in you, tossing your head back and clamping your legs around Marc’s hand.

“Are you doing alright, angel?”

“Yeah, just give me a second.”

He nodded and pressed chaste kisses along your face while you adjusted to having a third finger inside of you. You sighed and shifted, releasing your death grip on his hair and moving your hands down to his knees. You slowly opened your legs back up and turned your head to look into Marc’s dark eyes. His gaze was soft and admiring, flitting around every feature of your face like he was desperately trying to commit this moment to his memory.

Without a word he moved his fingers to your sweet spot, punching a gasp out of you. You fell forward and reconnected your lips, letting Marc swallow your noises until you were on the verge of coming. You broke the kiss and kept your eyes locked on his as he pushed you over the edge one last time, your mouth falling open to sigh his name.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, kissing your temple and pulling his fingers out of you as you collapsed into his chest breathlessly. “You took me so well, baby. No one can compare to you. Such a good girl. My good girl.”

You accepted his comforting kisses and caresses with a tiny smile on your face. “I’m going to be sore tomorrow, aren’t I?”

“Probably,” he agreed, a smug grin on his lips.

thank you for reading ♡ you can find my masterlist here

#steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader #steven grant fanfic #marc spector fanfic #jake lockley fanfic #jake lockley smut #marc spector smut #moon knight smut #oscar isaac #moon knight #moon knight fanfic #steven grant imagine

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ohbo-ohno · 5 months

Note

babygirl bo <3 I have some Qs to which I beg you provide some As (I need me some of that deep bo lore)

🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

🥤 ⇢ recommend an author or fanfic you love

🥐 ⇢ name one internet reference that will always make you laugh

🪲 ⇢ add 50 words to your current wip and share the paragraph here

babygirl lumi i love you so much. you're welcome to any lore you want

🍄 does puppy play count as a hc? because i write ghost calling soap "pup" as a kink thing but i also very much so think he'd just Do that.

if that doesn't count, then i'll say that one hc i swear by is that ghost is a freak but soap is 10x freakier and he's into literally every conceivable abuse ghost tries to commit agaisnt him.

also i think soap is suuuper smart but in a really specific way - can't spell for shit, but that man can rattle off college level math like it's nothing

🥤 is SUCH a good ask because now i can rec my fav cod x readers <3 (i know it says fic or author singular but you're getting multiple fics in place of me trying to tag authors and inevitably forgetting someone)

cod fics (but not the people i usually link because this post is already too long):

Baby Blue by kechiwrites (ghost x reader)

Taste by Sweet Deciet (ghost x soap x reader)

The Hand That Feeds by anonymous (ghost x soap)

Hypnotized (Fuck It) by ANTchan (ghost x soap)

Where Moonlight Meets the Sea by MildLimerence (ghost x soap)

Not More Than Once by WhisperedWords12 (ghost x soap)

NOT cod fics, but one for a few fandoms i love:

Declensions by dustorange is THE dick grayson origin fic. if there's one fanfic i wish i had written, it would be this

the first step of kintsugi by thepolysyndetonaddictsupportgroup is a peter parker & frank castle fic and im not sure it'll ever be finished but it is just. god it is perfect and probably my favorite fic of all time

anything by cupcakemolotov is gonna hit like no other for klaus mikaelson/caroline forbes. i love her so so much like she is my IDOL

ALL MOUTH. by themilkteeth is like the epitome of what a good darklina fic is. it's soooooosososo good i want it injected into my veins

the Blood Apron series by sciencefictioness is a great overwatch fic, but you really don't need to know the characters to enjoy the story! another one that'll never get added to, but i love it a lot

🥐 i don't like the lotr movies but there's a moment in the first (?) one where aragorn (?) is singing to himself and frodo (?) asks "who is this lady you sing of?" and for some reason i literally cannot watch it without keeling over in laughter. it's so fucking stupid

🪲 ohhhh we have beef for this one. i hate you a teeny tiny bit for making me write (/j). added it below the cut!

ok quick edit here but. i thought that said 500 words so uh. sorry but there's 500 words here instead of 50 lmfao. im a fool!!!!!

ghost x soap (cw for (legal) age gap)

He takes another look at the kid, now that he’s not planning on throwing him off the property. He’s got a bit of bulk, probably just recently started working out, and there’s a cocky energy coming off of him. Ghost would bet this is far from the first time he’s robbed someone with this little ruse, probably thinks he’s the smartest burglar in town. Too bad he chose the wrong man to try and trick this time.

Ghost straightens from the doorway, rolling back his shoulders and standing tall. The kid isn’t short by any means, but compared to Simon he’s practically little. Odds are he’s still got some growing to do, but for now Simon gets to enjoy the way he can loom over the teenager.

“No one ever taught you to respect your elders, boy?”

Oh, the kid doesn’t like that one. If he were a dog, his hackles would be fully raised, but he’s left settling for curling his lip back in a snarl. “You think just cause you’re old I have to respect you?”

“I think you’ll respect me because you’re on my property. That and I don’t think you’ll like what happens if you keep the attitude up.”

The kid flushes, either from rage or the innuendo. “Who the fuck do you think you are? You think just because we’re out here alone you can say whatever you want to me?”

“Of course not. We’re out here all alone, which means I can do whatever I want to you. And I will, if you don’t get off my property.”

The kid looks him up and down, then visibly steels himself. Ghost bites back a smirk. He’s not used to being underestimated, but he finds he doesn’t mind when it means getting to see the kid play at being his equal.

“What do you think you’ll do if I don’t go?”

Oh, Ghost can’t wait to beat the attitude out of the little brat.

He doesn’t let the kid see how much the rudeness is getting to him, intentionally keeping his face flat and unimpressed. “What’s your name, kid?”

That permanent scowl doesn’t shift, even as a flash of confusion crosses his face. “...John.”

Ghost nods. “Alright, Johnny, if you don’t get off my property, I’ll take you over my knee and teach you what your daddy should’ve.”

It’s nearly impossible to keep from grinning when Johnny’s mouth pops open in surprise, the flush creeping further up his neck. “You- you’ll- who do you think- you can’t-”

Ghost reaches out like he might slap Johnny, instead snaps right in front of his nose, sharp and loud. “Spit it out, boy. I don’t feel like listening to a kid learn how to speak all night.”

Johnny’s letting himself get worked up, and not doing a good job of hiding it. His teeth grind and he shifts from foot to foot, like he’d like to try and attack Ghost. He’s apparently smart enough to know how idiotic that would be, and Simon finds he’s almost disappointed.

#this got so LONG im sorry lmao #asks and answers #ask game #luminousbeings-crudematter

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thewolvesof1998 · 7 months

Text

get to know your fic writer + WIP Snippet

Tagged by @jesuisici33 @hippolotamus @your-catfish-friend

When did you post your first ever fanfic?

God, I definitely posted 1D fics on Wattpad back in the day, probably in 2013 but I started posting again only in June of this year.

First character(s) you wrote for:

It was probably something 1D related either Larry or an OC/Harry Styles

Main character(s) you’re currently writing for:

Buck and Eddie of course.

Character(s) you haven’t written about before but plan on writing about soon:

Hmmm I don’t have anything planned, I’m just following the hyperfixation but probably someone from the 911 world, maybe Ravi or May?

Fandom(s) you’re currently writing for:

9-1-1

Platonic pairing(s) you currently write for:

Buck and Chris- you can't really avoid Buck as Chris's other parent when writing Buddie. Bobby and Buck- another father-and-son relationship. Eddie and Sophia- the Diaz siblings. The entire firefam I suppose.

Romantic pairing(s) you currently write for:

Buck/Eddie

Your top 3 tags on AO3 (if you post your works on AO3):

Not Beta Read, One Shot and Pre-Relationship Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz

Your current platform where you post your works:

AO3

Snippet of the wip you’re currently working on:

I haven't written in weeks but the inspiration hit tonight so here a bit from a new wip- something for Halloween:

Eddie could hear the creak of the tree outside as the wind tumbled through its branches, someone calling for their dog a few doors down and a motorcycle roaring down the street adjacent to his. He could also hear Buck’s heartbeat, its usual slow and steady thump, thump, thump. Normally he would hear Christopher's soft breaths and fluttering heartbeat from the room down the hall but the house is empty tonight. He can still taste the tequila from the shots they’d decided were a good idea after finishing their usual six pack. The alcohol warming his stomach, making his limbs feel like they belonged to someone else. Without thinking about it, they place themselves on Buck’s broad chest, his skin a contrast to the dark blue button-up Buck decided to wear tonight. Eddie can feel the sharp intake of breath beneath them and his eyes drag themselves up to Buck’s face. His usually pale skin is flushed ever so slightly, confusion dragging his eyebrows together in a look that would be comical if Eddie wasn’t so damn in love with him. “Eds?” Buck whispers, so quiet that if it weren’t for his enhanced hearing he wouldn’t have heard it. Eddie doesn’t respond, not verbally at least, he just steps in closer, placing his forehead on Buck’s shoulder, face tucked into his neck. Buck’s hands automatically come up to rest on his arms and Eddie thinks just for a moment that he’s going to push him away but instead, Buck’s fingers curl around his biceps, holding him tightly. Eddie breathes in, taking in Buck’s scent, citrus, honeycomb and sunshine on snow, it’s just as intoxicating as the alcohol. He’s nuzzling into Buck’s neck chasing that scent before he can stop himself. Buck shudders but doesn’t pull away instead, he bares his neck and tries to relax despite the vulnerable position. Buck has to know he’s not going to hurt him, Eddie could never hurt him. He opens his mouth and sucks in a breath, “Buck…” his name is as sweet as the taste of him on Eddie’s tongue. It so distracting that he forgets what he is going to say and instead, his hands slide up and one around Buck’s neck and into his hair, using the grip to tilt his head so Eddie has better access. Buck gasps, his fingers digging in painfully before relaxing again but Eddie barely registers it, drowning in Buck’s scent until it was just Buck and only him. Eddie’s teeth and claws lengthen as the primal need takes control, he manages to loosen his grip enough to avoid piercing Buck, the need to protect is just as strong as the need to mark and claim.

Tagging:

@wikiangela @wildlife4life @eddiebabygirldiaz @disasterbuckdiaz @spotsandsocks @try-set-me-on-fire @bekkachaos @buddierights @forthewolves @911-on-abc @shitouttabuck @911onabc @exhuastedpigeon @eddiediaztho @loserdiaz @ladydorian05 @watchyourbuck @king-buckley @chaoticgremlinwholikescheese @fortheloveofbuddie @sammy-souffle @steadfastsaturnsrings @mangacat201 @theotherbuckley @hoodie-buck @eowon @rainbow-nerdss @nmcggg @pirrusstuff

#tag games #fanfic writers #ao3 #thewolvesof1998 writes #buddie

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 months

Text

Don't Speak 34

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, stalking, manipulation, reclusive behaviour, disordered eating, dissociation, allusions to abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader is a reclusive loner who ventures down to the library on a simple mission. Her task is complicated by the man she meets there. (f!short!reader)

Character: librarian!Andy Barber

Note: this guy, again.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

You hear the air go out of Amber as she croaks. You can’t stop squeezing her. You almost don’t believe she’s actually there. That she’s real!

She touches your side gently and gives another wheeze. You make yourself release her and pull back, beaming a bright smile at her. Your cheeks hurt and your eyes are glossy. You latch onto her hand and bounce on your heels.

“It’s cold out here, you should get inside,” Andy girds from behind you, “you’ll catch cold.”

“She’s fine,” Amber squeezes your hand back.

“Please, come in,” you tug on her, “do you…” your voice catches, “do you wanna help me cook?”

“Sure, bubbie,” she smiles, “I was planning on banana pudding. You still like that, right?”

You laugh, so giddy you feel delirious, “I love it! You know I’m so lost in the kitchen.”

“You’re a better cook than you think,” she assures you, a slight tremble in her voice.

You turn, keeping your grasp on her and find only a narrow space between Andy and the door frame. He glowers down at you, past you at Amber. You wince but keep going, pulling her inside. She shoulders past him and steps onto the mat.

“Brought some wine too,” Steve announces as he enters just behind her, “everything we need for the pudding and my own treat. That’s still a surprise.”

“Hurry up,” you beg Amber.

“Please,” she chuckles, “I can’t get my coat off with you hanging onto me.”

“Oh, sorry,” you retract your hand and clasp your wrist against your chest.

You stand back and watch her. Andy comes to stand beside you, a puff through his nostrils brush down to your sleeve. You peek up at him. He grimaces at Amber as Steve takes her coat to hang for her. Those two seem to get along.

“Let me just get this into the kitchen,” Steve picks up the box again, “let me guess, football?”

He struts into the front room without invitation. Andy doesn’t respond or budge. You follow Steve as Amber reclaims your hand, your arms swinging between you.

“This is a nice place,” she says as the floor groans and Andy finally follows suit. “Wow.”

“Thanks,” he grumbles.

“It’s pretty big,” you admit. “The kitchen too.”

You pass through the archway as Steve puts the box on the counter. Your mess awaits you, a meal half-finished. You chew your lip as he smiles at you across the island.

“Well, I’ll let you girls get caught up but if you need an extra pair of hands,” he wiggles his fingers at you, “I’m at your service.”

“Thank you, Dr. Kemp,” you chime and sense Amber peek over at you.

He finally leaves, his timbre following him into the front room as he calls to Andy. The TV continues its blare and swallows up their conversation. You face Amber.

You both stare speechless at each other. You don’t know where to start. It feels like forever and no time at all. You don’t realise until that moment how much your missed your sister.

“How do you know Dr. Kemp?” You’re the first to break.

“I… I got a phone call a few nights ago. You know, your mailing address is still mine,” she explains, “at first, I was not sure but I’d do anything to see you again. To find you.”

Your heart falls, “oh, Amb, I’m… sorry.”

She’s quiet as she looks down, crestfallen, “you’re an adult, you’re allowed to leave but… why did you have to go like that?”

“I’m sorry. I was afraid– No, it was mean. I’m sorry. I’m a bad person, Amb, I see that now.”

“Bad?” She lifts her eyes, “is that what he tells you?”

“Who?”

“Andrew,” she clucks, “that you’re a bad person.”

“N-no, no. But… I see things now that I didn’t before. Dr. Kemp is helping me fix myself.”

She sighs and glances away, “you’re not broken.” Her eyes drift back in your direction, “I’m glad you’re getting help. Steve seems like a smart man and I’m sorry I could never afford to get you what you need.”

“That’s not true. You did so much. I just took it all and gave nothing–”

“I never wanted anything but my sister,” she lets go of your hand and at once, you’re in another hug, this one has you trapped. “I’m just glad you’re safe.” She parts and holds you at arm’s length, “and happy, right?”

Your mouth falls open. Your eyes skitter around; the large kitchen shines around you as her voice reverberates in your head. Her amazement, her happiness, she always wants to believe the best of you. You don’t want to let her down again, you’ve hurt her enough.

“I am,” you lie, “Dr. Kemp helps and… I should show you my painting! It’s almost done.”

“That’s wonderful,” she smiles and looks over her shoulder, “but maybe we should figure out dinner first?”

🕊️

You pull on the hem of your skirt, happy for the shield of the apron as the dress rides up with each move. You set out buns on a platter, adding them to the dishes set to go out to the dining room. As you wiggle awkwardly against the short dress, you sense Amber watching you.

You give a sheepish smile as she wrinkles her brow funnily, “what even are you wearing?”

You look down, “you don’t like it?”

“It’s cute. Looks nice on you but… it isn’t you, is it?”

You bat your lashes, “I don’t know, what… erm, the dress is nice.”

“I like it. But… you don’t really wear dresses. Or didn’t”

“I know but I’m trying new things.”

“And that’s good. I guess,” she pushes her shoulders up, “I just don’t know the new you. I liked the old you.”

“Oh,” you murmur glumly.

“Old or new, you know I love you, bub,” she hums.

“Love you too,” you force a smile.

“Hey, girls,” Steve startles you as he struts through the door, “mmm-mm, it smells delicious in here. Anything I can help with?”

“Lots,” Amber answers dryly, “but we’ll settle for setting the table.”

“Oh, I’ll help,” you offer and grab a stack of plates. Steve meets you at the end of the counter, clutching the sides beside your hands, “um, here.”

You let him take them and turn to take the napkins and utensils waiting to be set out. He thanks you and turns on his heel. You notice how Amber watches him. She grins at his back. You’re happy she likes him as much as you.

You follow him into the dining room. He places the four plates out neatly as you put down a fork, knife, and spoon beside the first one. He looks up at you as he keeps his head inclined. His eyes are so bright and warm. You feel like it’s been ages since you’ve seen him. Just like everything else, it feels so unusual. As if those days spent in that bedroom were a whole other planet.

“Here, let me show you a trick,” he comes around, gathering up the utensils you just put out.

He pinches the corner of a napkin still in your hand and pulls it free. You let him and watch as he puts all three pieces of cutlery against the napkin, resting them against the table as he expertly rolls them up into a tidy pocket. He moves them beside the plate and drags his hand away.

“That’s pretty,” you say.

“Like you,” he says, “I really like that dress.”

“You do?” you look at him in the face. That act alone makes you want to melt. His eyes blaze back at you.

“You always look nice,” he says, “I thought… before I got here, I thought maybe you were mad at me.”

“Mad?” You frown.

“You haven’t been answering me so…”

“Um,” you suck in your lip as your eyes flit away from him, “I’ve been taking a break.”

“That’s a good idea. Blue light can really mess with your circadian rhythm and there’s nothing wrong with putting yourself first.”

“Okay, but I’m sorry. For not answering. I hope you’re not mad.”

“Not at all,” he assures you, “sweetheart,” he steps closer, “are you okay?”

“What?” You breathe.

“You look faint. Do you need to sit down?”

You shake your head and pout your lips. You can smell his cologne. It’s citrusy and rich. You could just bask in the scent. You resist the urge to bury your nose in his woolly sweater for a better sniff.

“I’m okay,” you sigh, “all that cooking.”

“Yeah, gets pretty hot standing in front of a stove,” he agrees and lays his hand on your shoulder, rubbing his thumb into it, “you’re not… you’re happy I brought Amber?”

You see the doubt in his eyes. You can’t believe it but you think he’s actually nervous. Does he really care so much about what you think?

“I’m so happy. Thank you,” you sway, nearly hugging him like you did Amber. You stop yourself and give a nervous giggle. “I really missed her.”

“I could tell. I… know you don’t like to talk about her but it’s Thanksgiving. It’s about family, right?”

“Yeah,” you smile and look down at your handful, jangling around the cutlery, “um, I guess… can you show me how to do that thing again?”

“Sure,” he puts his hands around yours and eases the cutler and napkins away. “So, you just put down the napkin,” he sets it all on the table and puts a napkin flat. He moves it diagonally so it’s a diamond and you watch his thick fingers move. Something about his hands makes you tingly, “then your cutlery,” he pushes up the bottom corner, “tuck and roll. Voila.”

He takes another napkin and places it in front of you, “you try,” he says as he hands you cutlery.

You shakily place the three pieces on the napkin. You're much slower than him, trying to get it perfect, pushing up the point and rolling tight. When you finish, you feel a tickle along your back.

“Good job, sweetie,” he leans in to whisper in your ear.

You smile as your cheeks round hotly, “thank you.”

“Go ahead, do the last one,” his voice grits as he flutters his fingers up your spine, “I’ll go get some glasses for the wine.”

🕊️

Amber sits at the seat next to you. Andy comes in with a sense of reluctance, hands in his pocket as his eyes focus dully on nothing. He looks almost pale as he shuffles along the opposite side of the table. He turns to face you and meets your gaze before glancing towards your sister.

His hand grips the chair and he slowly pulls it out, scraping the floor with the legs. He clears his throat and sits, heaving a sigh as he peers up and down the table. Amber shifts beside you.

“Um, Andrew,” she begins tenderly. “I didn’t get a chance to say thank you.”

His eyes flick up as his brows arch, “thank you?”

“For having me. You have a lovely house and I’m so thankful to be able to spend today with my sister. I know… we didn’t get off to a great start so maybe this is our chance to start again.”

“Maybe,” he mutters and scans the table again, “where is the green bean casserole?”

Your eyes widen. You don’t remember making it. You’ve been so distracted with having Amber there that the details all blend together.

“Oh, my bad, I forgot to bring those out,” Amber stands, “be right back.”

She gets up and sweeps out of the room. You swallow as you watch Andy, waiting for him to look at you. Dreading what he’ll say.

His nostrils flare as his eyes pinpoint on you, “you’re happy to see your sister.”

It doesn’t really sound like a question but you nod. His forehead wrinkles as he runs his fingers around his mouth and narrows his eyes. He lets the tension drain from his features and sits back.

“So it’s a good thing I let her stay, huh, dove?” He says.

You swallow, “thank you, Andy.”

He smirks, tight-lipped as he drops his hand onto the armrest. He grips it and fixes his posture, his eyes returning to the chair next to you. Maybe he’d wanted to sit beside you.

“Here we are,” Amber returns and puts down the glass pan of beans, “well, I don’t think anyone will go hungry.”

Andy hums monotonously as she reclaims her chair. There’s a thick silence as you peer back and forth between them. Amber folds her hands on the table then sits back and pulls them over her stomach. She watches Andy, almost expectantly.

“Ah, can’t forget the wine,” Steve enters with a bottle in hand, “sorry to keep you waiting.”

Andy coughs and squares his shoulders. Steve approaches the empty chair next to your host and twists off the cap of the wine bottle. He reaches to you, beckoning for your glass. Amber takes it and hands it over. He pours it and she trades it for her own.

“I know you’re more a beer connoisseur, Andy, but there’s lots to go around,” Steve offers.

“No thanks,” Andy sniffs, “still got some Stella.”

He reaches for the green bottle with the white label. You know when he drinks, it won’t be a happy night. Especially after the unexpected company. Despite his attempts at niceties, you can hear the razor edge in his tone.

“You snooze you lose,” Steve chimes as he sits and pours himself a glass. He lifts it by the stem, “cheers.”

You pull your glass close and look into the golden depths. You sniff it, it’s almost sweet but tickles your throat. You look over at Amber as she holds out her glass to clink. She never really drank and you didn’t either. But it’s a special occasion.

“Cheers,” she says.

“Dove,” Andy undercuts, “I don’t think you like wine, remember?”

“Huh?” Amber tilts her head towards him, “she can make up her own mind.”

“I’m not saying she can’t, I just wouldn’t want her to be sick. We haven’t even eaten. She shouldn’t be drinking on an empty stomach,” he argues.

“She’s about to eat,” Amber counters.

“It’s fine, Andy,” Steve intones, “it’s all just good fun. It’s Thanksgiving, live a little.”

He clinks his glass against Andy’s bottle then raises it again. You pick your glass up and tap it against Amber’s. You mimic her as she brings the brim to her lips and you drink in unison, slightly unsure of yourself. It’s not bad, almost sour but in a pleasant way.

Amber pulls the glass away and puts it down gently, “you like it, bub?”

“Um, yes, it’s… different,” you say as you examine the glass, the wine swishing as you twirl it, “I like it.” You take another taste, a bigger gulp than the last, “thank you, Dr. Kemp.”

“Yes, thank you, Steve,” Amber adds, “you’ve made this day so special.”

Andy inhales and his nostrils flare, “yeah, thanks, Steve.”

#andy barber #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #defending jacob #au #series #library au #don't speak #dark fic #dark!fic #fic #steve kemp #fresh

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kkyaka · 2 years

Text

Next Door

Summary: You're back from college for the summer, and your next door best friend became even hotter (I suck ass at summaries)

Pairing: Connie Springer x black!fem!reader

Word Count: 6000

Warnings: best friends to lovers, neighbors to lovers (?), accidental voyeurism, little bit of sexual tension, confession of feelings, fingering (f), virgin!reader, protected sex, multiple orgasms, handjob, blowjob, little bit of dirty talk (?), aftercare (i think I covered it all, let me know if I didn't)

A/N: Reposting this bc it didn't show up in the darn tags 😑. This isn't my best work, but I'm just happy that I finished it tbh. If it doesn't do well? Oh well. Lmfao, I just wanted to get this out bc I have so many more WIPs, and I was almost done with this one. If this doesn't work, idk if I'll repost it again lol

Being home from college means a lot of different things for different people. Some people hate it, missing the freedom that they had in college. Others love it, especially if they move a good distance away from their families. You fall somewhere in the middle. You still have your freedom, but you really don't have anyone to enjoy that freedom with.

High school wasn't your favorite phase of your life, but you were able to make friends that you're still in contact with today. The problem was that they weren't free to hang with. You tried to make plans with them right as school got out, but they quickly fell through, so you're spending the beginning of your summer wondering how in the hell you're going to pass the time.

With truly nothing else to do, you decide to unpack some of your stuff, and you push open the curtains covering your windows before opening them up. Opening up the last one, you realize that it's the same window that faces Connie's house. You falter a little bit in your movements as the memories flood back into your head.

You moved into the neighborhood right before you started third grade. You were upset and scared because you had no friends, and you were going to a new school. You remember the first time you opened the window, conveniently doing it at the same time as him. You were too nervous to say anything, but he gladly spoke up first, introducing himself.

You both didn't go to the same school, much to your dismay, but he quickly became one of your best friends. You hung out after school, during the weekends, on your breaks. He made the move much more bearable, and you don't know where you would be without him.

Although, it wasn't until you got to high school that you started to develop feelings for him. You tried to blame it on the fact that you weren't really getting any attention at school, but the harder you tried to deny it, the more you realized that that wasn't the case.

You never said anything though because you found out that you weren't going to be together much longer. He was older than you by a couple of years, and he was heading to college, leaving you to tackle the last two years of high school by yourself. He still managed to call you every now and then, which definitely helped, but it wasn't the same.

When it was your turn to go to college, you were going to a college that was a couple of hours away, and he was staying, deciding that he wanted to stay close to home with his family. You didn't blame him, and saying goodbye to him was the hardest thing you had to do.

You haven't seen him since you've been back, and you don't know if you want to. You tried so hard to get over him, but he's not someone that you could just get over. You shake yourself out of memory lane, getting back on track to unpacking your stuff with a loud sigh.

Opening up that window seemed to open the floodgates because it seems like for the past couple of days, you've been thinking about Connie nonstop. You've started to avoid going out of the house in fear that you might run into him. What would you even say? You wouldn't even begin to know how to start a conversation with him.

You tell yourself to just get over yourself, opting to just forget about your conflict. You open the front door, grimacing at the heat that's coming from the outside before walking down your driveway to check the mail. You're going through it, slowly walking back up to your house when you hear clanking coming from your left.

You look up, seeing the garage door at Connie's house open. You stop in your tracks, chewing on your lip as you wonder if it would be a good idea to see if it's Connie. You don't have much time to think because he comes into view, stepping out from behind his car, or more like stumbling out. You chuckle softly, watching as he wipes the sweat from his forehead.

Seeing him makes you question why you were even worried in the first place. You give yourself a quick pep talk before you head over to his house. He's looking through the shelves in the garage, swearing when he drops something.

"Hey," you call out when you get to the garage. He jumps, dropping what was in his hand as he turns around. The fear on his face turns into a bright smile as he walks toward you.

"'Sup, baby! I haven't seen you in ages!" You can't help but laugh as he brings you into a hug. "When did you get back?" he asks, keeping his hands on your shoulders when he pulls away.

"A few days ago," you say. "I've been seeing family and unpacking." Being this close to him makes you realize that he's not the same boy you said goodbye to a year ago.

He's gotten taller, a little bit more tan, and you don't ever remember him being this built before. You didn't even realize he was shirtless until now, and you swallow heavily when you notice. He's got a tattoo on his arm, and an ear piercing, and that crush you had starts to come back in full form.

"Cool, cool. You look amazing by the way, how was your first year of college?" You feel your face flush warm at the sudden compliment, almost losing your thoughts, but you remained focused on the conversation.

"Oh, thanks," you respond softly. "It was pretty good, a lot better than I expected. You look great, too," you add, and you sound so lame, but he doesn't seem to care, probably too excited to see you again.

"I'm glad it went well for you," he answers, and he crosses his arms over his chest, which makes you focus on his the way the muscles in his arms move. "Speaking of that," he says, and you're glad he changes the subject because you weren't really sure how to continue. "A friend told me about this show that I know you would love. And since you're back, I thought we could watch it together."

You feel so many things run through you at the thought of hanging out with him again, but you're easily accepting. "Yeah, I'm definitely free, so my couch is always open," you laugh, and his smile seems to get even bigger.

"Awesome! Well, I should get back to working on this car," he says, pointing over his shoulder. "It was good to see you again. Seriously."

"Yeah, you too," you say, taking a step back.

"And I'll be over sooner rather than later to watch that show." He sends you a wink that definitely doesn't make you melt, and you laugh as you nod, walking back towards your house.

"I'll be waiting." And it's not a lie because you literally have nothing else to do but wait. You get back to your house, close the door, and rest your weight on it. You try to fight your giddiness, but you let it out for once before you finally calm yourself down.

Waiting just made you even more anxious though. It was a couple of days before he was even able to come over, having things to do and catch up on, and you currently had the house to yourself because your parents wanted to go on a vacation for their anniversary.

You were close to pulling your hair out waiting, and you decided that a shower might help, thinking that it was the heat that was getting to you. You feel much more relaxed when you get out, walking to your room with a clearer head. You throw your towel on the bed, the specific clothes you wanted to wear in your suitcase because of course they were.

You're going through your clothes when you hear your name being called. You jump, yelping loudly as you quickly cover yourself, looking around for the voice. You look towards your window, your eyes widening and your heart dropping in mortification when you see that it's open.

"Sorry for scaring you," you hear, recognizing the familiar voice, and you can only see Connie's hand peeking out from his window. "I just wanted to let you know that you left it open. I didn't see anything, I swear."

"T-Thanks," you sigh, and you quickly shut the window and the curtains before you fall to the floor, putting your face in your hands and groaning loudly.

You didn't move for a while, a million thoughts running through your head, and you finally put your clothes on when you got over your embarrassment. Connie texted you later that day saying that he was free, and you almost canceled. There was no way you were going to be able to have a normal conversation with him now; your face fuming at the thought of being in the same room as him after what happened.

He said he didn't see anything, and you keep repeating that in your head, but it doesn't make you feel that much better. You take a deep breath when you hear the doorbell ring, trying to think positive thoughts as you walk towards it.

Your hands are shaking when you open the door, your eyes meeting a beaming Connie on the other side. "Trust me, you're gonna love this show," he says, walking in when you step to the side. You laugh easily, feeling a sense of comfort come over you as he sits down on the couch.

You sit down next to him as he pulls up the show, and right as he's about to play it, he jumps up, saying that you need snacks. You watch as he runs to the kitchen, and you look at the TV, noting that the show does look like something that you would watch.

He comes back with a bunch of drinks and snacks all in his arms, setting them down on the coffee table in front of you before he sits back down next to you. He's definitely closer to you than he was before. Way closer than he was before, and you can feel the heat coming from him as his body pressed into yours.

You're not really feeling hungry, so you grab a soda, popping the tab open and you take a long sip. You're secretly wishing it was alcohol because it's definitely going to be a long night.

The first episode has you pretty glued in, and you and Connie nurse your drinks through the first episode, but halfway through the second, you're focused on his arm that's made its way behind you. He relaxed further into the couch with a sigh, spreading his legs a little wider, and you breathe out slowly as you press your legs together.

You're starting to sweat, your mind starting to focus on if you should ask Connie if he saw anything earlier today when you got out of the shower. You make an excuse that you have to use the bathroom by the third episode, and Connie agrees, so you go upstairs while he uses the one downstairs. You press your hands against your face, feeling how warm your face is. You splash cold water on your face, trying to calm yourself down.

There's no reason for you to be thinking about your stupid crush that's slowly making you horny, which you partially blame on how much he's changed. You hype yourself up before you leave, taking another deep breath and leaving the bathroom.

Connie's not back yet, and you sit down, trying to recall what happened in the second episode. When he gets back, he's still in your space, and you notice that he's a bit warmer than before, but there's no part of you that minds. You ask him to talk about what happened in the second episode, and you both laugh when neither of you can't really remember.

He offers for you to watch it again, and you agree. He turns it back on, but this time as you start to get comfortable, he actually lets his arm rest on your shoulders. You tense for a second but relax shortly after, resting your head on his shoulder, which feels much more firm than you remember.

You can focus a little bit better this time because you remember some of the stuff that you caught before, so you're able to piece stuff together. At one point, you look down, Connie's tattoo catching your eye, so you poke at it when you ask him about it.

He rolls his sleeve up so that you can see it fully. "I got it last year," he says, and you notice that some parts of it look familiar.

"Why?" you ask curiously, and he laughs sheepishly as he scratches his head.

"Uh, you could say I was missing someone," he starts, and you hate how your heart sinks. "And this is her favorite show." Now you feel like shit because that was the show that you and Connie watched together all the time in high school.

"Is she a girlfriend or something?" you find yourself asking, looking away from him.

"Oh, no," he answers. "Um, I've liked her for a long time but I don't know if she feels the same way." You nod, but you don't respond, suddenly wanting to take shelter in your room.

"Well, have you said something to her?" You don't know why you're entertaining this, and you look up at him. Being this close to his face only makes your feelings for him even stronger, and you're just now noticing that his hair's grown out a little.

"I'm kinda scared to, to be honest," he sighs, meeting your eyes. "I don't wanna lose her." He doesn't take his eyes off of you, and you start to focus on his arm that's around you. He practically has you tucked into his side, and then you're thinking about what happened earlier.

"Um, Connie," you say, looking down. "Did you really not see anything earlier today?"

You hear his breath hitch, and you bite your lip as you wait for an answer which will determine what you should do with your feelings. He tilts your head up by your chin, and you have to remind yourself to breathe.

"Would you punch me in the dick if I answered honestly?" he asks, and you laugh, shaking your head.

"No, I won't. I promise."

His gaze drops to your lips quickly before it goes back to your eyes, and you fight the urge to look away as you wait in anticipation. "I probably looked at you a lot longer than I should have," he whispers, and your face falls slightly in surprise.

"Really?"

He nods, and you grip his shirt when he leans in closer. "Yeah. You're the prettiest girl I've ever met, I couldn't look away." You nearly melt in excitement, the smile on your face so hard for you to fight. "I'm not a creep, I swear. I haven't done that in the past."

"I trust you," you whisper, huffing softly, and you take a deep breath before you say the next thing. "I like you, Connie." He freezes, and you look over his face for a reaction. You're about to retract when he doesn't move, feeling shame bubble up in your stomach, but then he suddenly kisses you.

You hum in surprise before you close your eyes and melt into him. He brings his hand to rest on your neck as your hand grips his shirt. You both pull away to breathe, but he's closing the distance soon after. You moan, wrapping your arms around his neck, and he grabs your leg, pulling you to sit on top of him.

"I've liked you for so long," he says against your lips before he moves to kiss down your jaw and towards your neck. "Fuck, I've always thought about this," he mumbles, and you're so overwhelmed with the feeling of his hands running over your body that you can't even respond.

You shudder when his hands make their way under your shirt, and he brings his head up to kiss you again, slowing letting his tongue slide in your mouth, your mouth pliant and easily letting him in. You let him take your shirt off, and he stops to look at your chest. You didn't wear a bra, wondering in the back of your head if part of you "forgot" since you knew that Connie was going to be coming over.

"Shit, they're even prettier up close." It's like he's in a trance as he cups them in his hands, and the moan that you make is louder than you expected it to be. He rolls his fingers around your nipples before leaning down to suck at them.

"C-Connie," you gasp, one hand digging into the couch while the other finds its way to his hair. He keeps his hand pressed on your back so that your chest is arched into him, and you feel tears forming in your eyes. You've never been touched like this before, and you're flooded with so much pleasure that you're not sure if you can take this any longer.

He groans against you as his fingers work into your shorts. You whimper, your legs squeezing around his when he rubs circles over clit. You pull on his hair, and he groans again, using his other hand to roll your hips against him, and that's when you feel it. You didn't notice before, but you can feel how hard he is under you, and you're shaking from all of the different stimulations.

"W-Wait, Connie," you stutter. "Connie, 'm gonna cum--" It's like you're on the edge of the cliff before you finally fall, and your hands grab his shirt like your life depends on it. You cum with his name on your lips, and you don't know if he can tell because he doesn't stop rolling your clit between his fingers.

You pat at his back, and he finally stops as the last of your orgasm flows through you. Your chest is heaving as you slump against him, sweat coating your skin. "Wait, did you--?"

"I've never...no one's ever," you try, nearly embarrassed at your admission, and he nudges your head up with his shoulder. You watch something glaze over his eyes when he looks at your face.

You're still shaking, your body attempting to recover from something it's never felt before. "Why didn't you say anything?" he asks, rubbing over your legs before he slides you off of him. He grabs your hand when he stands, pulling you towards your room. He kisses you when he gets to the door, pushing it open as he keeps his lips on yours, only pulling away when he gets to your bed. "The couch shouldn't be where your first time happens."

Your face gets hot again as he walks into your room, and he gently guides you to sit down on your bed. "I don't care where it happens," you say, your voice barely above a whisper, and he has to hover near your face to hear you. "I just care that it's you."

The smile he responds with makes you warm all over, and he moves you further up your bed, trapping your legs between his as he slides his shirt off. You raise yourself up so you can touch him, and you can see the outline of his dick in his shorts.

You run your hand over it, and he releases a shaky breath before he puts his hand over yours. "You don't have to," he tells you, but you shake your head, moving your hands to the waist of his shorts.

"I...wanna try," you say softly, and he lets his hands slide off of yours, and you tug his shorts down. You move your head back when his dick pops up, and there's nowhere else you can look. He's proportionate in width and length, biting your lip in anticipation of it being inside of you, and you wrap your hand around him gently making his hands ball into fists. You guide him towards your mouth, and you don't really know how to start, so you lick at his head.

You lick at him again when he moans, this time a little more confident, and then you take him into your mouth. He groans, letting his head fall back, and you suck at his head before you sink down on him.

"Damn," he chokes out, looking down at you as he tries to keep his hips still. You bop your head up and down, going further every time until you gag, and you pull away, coughing. You give yourself a moment to breathe before you swallow him again, and he places his hand on your face. "D-Don't hurt yourself, baby," he tries to tell you, but he's practically speechless.

You pull off of him with a string of saliva connecting your lips to him, giving yourself a breather, and you wrap your hand around him again. "Is this okay?" you ask, and he nods quickly, putting his hand over yours.

"Mmh, just a little tighter," he says, squeezing your hand just a little more, and he shudders. "Y-Yeah, just like that." You watch as you both stroke him, and he sighs when you swirl your tongue around his head, and he can't control his hips anymore. "Shit, okay, okay." He moves your hand away, and you pull away, frowning.

"Was that not okay?" He huffs dazedly as he shakes his head.

"It was amazing," he breathes, "but I wanna cum with you around me," he responds, pulling you up so that he can kiss you, and he hums when he can taste himself on your tongue. "You sure you wanna do this?" he asks quietly. "We don't have to."

"I do," you say with a quick nod, and he smiles widely before it falls.

"Oh, uh, you wouldn't happen to have any condoms, would you?" You chew your lip as you shake your head. "That's okay, I have some at my place," he says, and he nearly falls off of the bed as he pulls his shorts up. "I'll be right back, don't go anywhere!" he exclaims as he runs out of your room.

You laugh as you hear him run down the stairs and then the front door opening and closing, and you fall back onto your bed. Your face hurts from how hard you're smiling, and you can't believe what just happened. You start to think that you might be dreaming, so you pinch yourself, and luckily you don't wake up.

You jump when you hear the front door close, and you hear loud footsteps on the stairs again. Connie runs into your room, closing the door behind him as he catches his breath and walks towards you. He has more than one in his hand, and you raise your eyebrows at him, darting between the condoms and him.

"Oh, no, don't worry," he starts. "I just got excited, so I didn't tear one off," he clarifies, and he tosses them to the other side of the bed before taking the rest of his clothes off. You follow suit, and after you do, you freeze when Connie just stares at you.

"What?" you whisper, making a move to cover yourself, but he's quick to pin your arms down, keeping his legs next to yours to keep them open as he hovers over you.

"Sorry, I'm just still getting used to the fact that you're under me like this." Your legs press against his at his words as you feel yourself getting wetter. You want to shrink under his intense gaze, and you close your eyes when he presses a soft kiss to your forehead. "You're so pretty," he mumbles against your lips.

"You already said that," you say, a big smile on your face. He lets your arms go in favor of resting his hands on your neck when he kisses you. You do the same, pulling him down so you can feel more of him on you, and you both moan when he grinds against you.

He takes one hand and trails it down your body, giving your tit a teasing squeeze before it travels between your legs. You jump when he rolls his finger over your clit. You can't keep up with the kiss as he keeps up his movements, and he pulls away as he starts to slide his finger in.

"No one's ever touched you like this before?" he asks, feeling his lips brush against yours with every word, and you shake your head, at a loss for words as he moves his finger in and out of you. "So, I'm gonna be the first to stretch this pretty pussy out?"

You nod quickly, your nails digging into his shoulder as he adds another finger inside. "Wanted it to be you," you say, not really feeling shy to admit it anymore, and he drops his head in your neck.

"Fuck," he sighs, stretching you out when he spreads his fingers, and you bring his face back to yours, the feeling of his lips on yours seems to ground you in a way. "You wanted it to be me?"

You hum your answer as you nod again. "Always thought about it being you." You watch his eyes roll as he bites his lips, feeling him shudder at your words.

He keeps his eyes on yours, and the look in them seems to make you even hotter. "Mm, I'm gonna make it so good for you." He puts gentle pressure on your clit, rolling his thumb over the sensitive bud, and you grab his wrist as you moan.

Your legs tremble around him, and you tighten your grip on his wrist when you feel that familiar pressure building. "I'm ready, Connie, c'mon." He chuckles softly, curling his fingers a couple more times just to tease you before he slides them out of you.

He sits up, and you watch as he licks over his fingers before shoving them in his mouth. He groans softly as his eyes roll, and you chew on your lip gently as you watch him. "Damn, you taste amazing," he sighs. "I wanna eat you out so bad," he tells you as he rips one of the condoms off. "But you don't mind if I fuck you first, do you?"

You don't know how he can still keep that playful smile he always has while being unbelievably hot at the same time. You shake your head quickly at his question, feeling like you're going dizzy from arousal. Your fingers dig into the sheets underneath you as you watch him roll it on, and you swear your heart is going to beat out of your chest.

You're so caught up, that you jump a little when he places his hand softly on your face. "You'll tell me if you're hurting, okay?" he asks, resting his weight on one of his elbows, leaving his face close to yours again.

"Yeah, I will," you breathe, and he holds his other hand up, pinky extended.

"Promise?" You roll your eyes, matching the smile on his face. Connie made it a habit when you both were in high school to kiss your fingers when they were interlaced, saying that the promise was stronger that way.

That's what you expect him to do, but when you lock your finger with his, he moves to kiss you on the lips instead. It makes you dazed for a second, but the split second after, you can feel yourself falling even harder for him. He grabs a pillow, having you lift your hips up so that he can slide it under you. You look down at the same time he does as he lines himself up, tensing up reflexively, and he shifts his weight so that he can rub at your hip.

"Relax," he whispers, somehow managing to keep his face close to yours. "Just lemme know if it's too much." He circles the tip of his dick at your hole, making your legs twitch, and he starts pushing in at the same time he starts rubbing at your clit.

You're thankful for the distraction because it's definitely more than his fingers. Your nails dig into his arm as you wince, and you reassure him to keep going; it's not painful, just a little uncomfortable. Once his hand is free, he uses it to rub over your body, continuing his motions on your clit.

Connie's head falls against yours as he digs his hand into the sheets next to you. "Oh...myfuckingGod," he groans, his hands moving to grab at the pillows by your head. "F-Fuck, you're so--shit." He tries his hardest to move carefully without hurting you, but it doesn't help that your cunt has such a tight hold on him, practically sucking him in without much effort.

He lets out a ragged breath, trying to shift his focus back to you. "Talk to me, baby," he says, lifting his head up slightly as he opens his eyes so that he can fully see your face. "How ya feeling?"

He doesn't move once he's fully inside of you, even though it's almost impossible, allowing you to adjust for as long as you need. "I feel good," you answer softly, moving your hands towards his. He grabs them, lacing his fingers with yours as he moves your arms over your head. You try to remember to breathe as your body gets used to being full in a way that it's never been filled before.

Being in this position makes you realize how close Connie is to you. You can't help but stare at him, feeling every part of him that's touching you. You think about how intimate this whole thing is, and you can't help but get the feeling that this feels right. You can tell he feels the same way, his lips meeting yours for a kiss that's deeper than the previous ones. One that says more than you ever could.

"You can move," you urge quietly, and you moan when he shifts just a little on his knees.

He groans in response, letting his head fall forward. "Dunno if I can, to be honest," he whispers.

"Why?" He can't look at you when he answers, back to focusing on how he's supposed to be making this whole experience good for you.

"Because I'll cum in a second," he admits against your skin, and you feel him take a deep breath as he squeezes your hands. You meet his glazed eyes when he lifts his head back up.

"I'm ready when you are." Your mouth falls open as you gasp when he moves, not really caring for the empty feeling you have when he slides out. You moan when he moves back in, his movements jolting your body with every thrust. Your eyes roll as you feel your toes curl, and you wrap your legs around him, not wanting him to stop for a second.

"O-Oh, God," he moans. "Y-Yeah...I'm gonna cum, 'm gonna--fuck me." You feel his hips stutter out of rhythm, a loud groan of your name signaling his orgasm.

You feel him slow down, but to your surprise, he doesn't completely stop, letting go of your hand in favor of pulling your leg up further. He picks up his pace instantly, sending your back arching as he reaches that pleasurable spot with the new angle. Your free hand braces on his neck, your nails once again finding home in his skin.

He hooks your leg in the crook of his elbow, his nails digging into your hips as he pulls you into him. "Your pussy's fucking sucking me in, h-holy shit!"

You jump when you feel his finger rubbing your swollen clit, and your back arches, pushing you further into the onslaught of your pleasure. "C-Connie! Fuck--" You can't even finish your sentence, your face contorting as your climax mounts.

"God, you feel so good. Shit, baby." You try to keep your eyes on his when he finally looks at you again, but it's no use. Your eyes slip closed, every snap of his hips sending you higher and higher.

Connie whines at the oversensitivity, opting to bite at your neck as an attempt to hold himself in for just a little longer, groaning with every thrust into your tight heat. "Gonna--cum," you rush out. "Connie, 'm gonna cum." It's really the only warning he gets, your body going taut, and your legs shake as your orgasm crashes over you.

It's definitely something you never felt before, almost scared at the number of things you're feeling, and you hold onto Connie as he cums right behind you, riding out your highs. You don't let go of him until he stops moving, not realizing how tightly you were holding onto him until he does.

Your body relaxes, letting you collapse onto the bed as Connie barely catches himself with his hand. You pull him onto you anyway, not wanting to separate from him just yet. "Oh, my God," he says around a laugh which you copy. He looks at you, running a finger over your face. "Are you okay? I didn't hurt you, right?"

"I'm more than okay, Connie." You pull him into a softer kiss, mostly because it feels like you could fall asleep any minute now. You hum into the kiss as he lets your leg fall. He smiles widely, peppering kisses all over your face.

You wince when he slides out of you, and he apologizes softly before urging you to move over. He pulls the blanket that you were on off the bed before taking it out of your room, and you roll over on your side, feeling more than satisfied. You hear him come back, only rolling back over when he pulls you to face him. He cleans you up with a warm washcloth before handing you some medicine and water for the soreness.

He grabs another blanket, throwing it over the both of you when he lays down with you, and you roll over so that you're facing him. He rubs over your body so gently that it nearly puts you to sleep, your eyelids feeling heavy.

"So, what happens now?" Connie asks, his voice barely audible to you, and you barely manage a shrug.

"What do you want to happen?" You move your head so that you can look at him, seeing that he's already looking at you.

"Well, I dunno if you could tell, but I like you a lot," he answers, "and not just for your body," he adds, and you huff as you roll your eyes.

"Does that explain the tattoo then?" you find yourself asking, and you think you see a faint blush on his face.

"Yeah, pretty much," he admits. "I was going through some stuff, and I really wanted you here. I thought it would help."

"You could've just called me," you say, your brows creasing slightly.

"Yeah, but you were out having fun, and I didn't wanna affect that," he responds, and you move further into him causing him to hold you closer to him.

"Well, now that I'm your girlfriend, you can call me any time," you whisper, the feeling of falling asleep right around the corner. You feel his chuckle vibrate against you, and right as sleep catches up to you, you hear it.

"I love you."

Your eyes close as you smile, placing a gentle kiss on his skin. "Love you, too, Con."

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