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wardenparker · 4 months

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First Christmas

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 10.6k Warnings: Established relationship, mentions of sex toys/gagging, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, cuddling, fluff, picturesque family stuff everywhere. Summary: A whirlwind relationship has led you to marrying Marcus before a lot of traditional landmarks in the dating realm. Now it's time to meet the Pikes, and you'll be doing it on their absolute favorite holiday. Notes: Please enjoy some seasonal fluff! While Marcus and the Pikes are obviously depicted as celebrating Christmas (duh, that's the plot) there aren't any references to the family being Christian, or to reader's religious identity. This is just some good old fashioned all-American Marcus fluff for the holiday 🧡🎄❄

“I talked to my Mom this morning.” Marcus shucks his jacket, buoyed by his news, although he’s had every reason to grin when he’s coming home to you every night. “And I managed to book the last two tickets. Had to get first class, but I used miles, so it wasn’t that bad.” He leans in and drops a kiss on your lips before he turns to hang his coat on the rack. “Figure we fly out a couple of days before Christmas and we can fly home the day after. We only end up needing to take a day or two maximum out of work that way. What do you think?”

“What do I think about three days with your entire extended family when it will be the very first time I’m meeting them all?” Marrying Marcus had been a whirlwind, and while you’re immensely happy together and have no regrets for the situation— it is a little intimidating. Marcus is incredibly close to his family and you are the exact opposite. “Honestly, babe? I’m intimidated. But I’m all in. I’ll do whatever I have to do to make sure they like me.”

“It’ll be great. They will love you.” Of course there had been a million and one questions when Marcus had called with the news that he was married. That he couldn’t wait to plan a wedding, and that you and he had just decided to go to the court house. “Get the embarrassing stories and baby pics out of the way before the rest of the family descends on the house.”

“Cramming into that twin bed in your Mom’s house is going to be fun,” you tease, a slight snort following your grin as you start taking leftovers out of the fridge to warm up for dinner. Last night’s Chinese take out order was more than a little over the top.

“Just means we get to snuggle really close.” He hums, sliding up behind you and wrapping his arms around your middle as he presses close. The honeymoon phase hasn’t even begun to fade, and he hopes it never does. “But I think she did trade it for a queen.”

“We’ll still cuddle.” That’s a promise, and you lean back against his chest with a comforted hum that’s so blissful you just let your eyes fall shut and enjoy it. “Though it might be good if she did trade up. A new bed will squeak a hell of a lot less than an old one.”

His cock twitches, but he’s pretty sure that was the entire point of your comment. You love to see how easily you turn him on. “But then we still have to keep you quiet, baby.” He ducks his head and nips at your neck. “Can’t be screaming my name for the entire house to hear.”

Turning your head, you bat your eyelashes at him innocently and make your eyes extra wide. “Should we pack my gag, then?”

“Fuck.” He hisses quietly, twitching against your ass again. “You want to be gagged and fucked hard in my childhood bedroom?” He rasps out.

“Only if there’s really embarrassing posters on the walls.” The evil little teasing giggle that bubbles out of you comes with a full-on grind of your ass against his rapidly hardening cock. It’s not hard to rile each other up, but it is so much fun.

“Want me to show you how hard I would fuck you?” His hands slide under your shirt and cup your tits through the bra you loath and he loves to take off of you.

“Hmmm.” Even pretending to think about it makes you grin harder and you turn around in his arms to wrap your arms around his neck. “The egg rolls take five minutes to warm up in the oven. Think we can get off that fast?”

“You doubt my abilities?” He pouts at you playfully, even as he moves to start unbuttoning your pants. “Baby, I’m hurt.”

“Maybe I just know giving you a challenge always gets results.” Your hands move to his belt as he starts to pull your own pants open.

“Brat.” His grin is infectious as he pushes your pants and panties down over your hips.

“Yeah, and you love it.” You shove the tray in the oven and practically smack the timer in your haste to set it, ready to hop up on the kitchen counter in the idyllic little house you share with your husband and let him fuck the life out of you.

His chuckle is warm and his hands don’t pause as he slides his hand between your thighs to touch you as his other works his belt buckle. “I do love it.” He admits easily.

Whatever clever comeback you have dies on your lips, too focused on your husband’s large hand and quick fingers at the apex of your thighs to do anything but quickly kick off your pants and panties so you can slide back onto the kitchen counter with your legs open.

“Fuck, I love the way you are so eager.” Marcus is always just as eager, but he doesn’t focus on his wants. Having you in front of him demands that you be pleasured and that’s what he’s going to do.

“For you? Always.” It’s been this way between you since the beginning. Since the day he waltzed into your undercover operation posing as your husband who could forge any painting. The spark was immediate and mutual, and soon the lines between role and real life were blurring for both of you. Now, of course, things are less complicated. But the want is no less real.

Marcus hums, leaning in to kiss along your neck like he had quickly discovered you love. Lips and teeth working together to make you moan while his fingers slide inside you.

“Baby.” Managing to moan anything coherent while he’s touching you is a miracle, but you gasp out when he starts to crook his fingers inside the tight walls of your pussy. “Need you, baby. Need you to fill me up.”

“I’m gonna fill you up.” He promises, grinning at the way your jaw is slack when he pulls back to look at you, “just as soon as you cream all over my fingers, baby.”

A whine seems to seep out of your throat unbidden and you glance over at the kitchen timer as your hips rock against his hand. “Four minutes and thirty-two seconds,” you warn with a grin.

“So we have time to have a drink.” He chuckles as he increases the tempo of his fingers as he works them in and out of you.

“Fuck, baby.” Marcus knows exactly how to work you into a frenzy with seemingly zero effort, and he delights in putting that ability on display just as much as he loves taking you apart extra slowly to make you beg. The man is devastatingly talented and you are the happy beneficiary of all that laser focus.

“That’s what I’m gonna do.” He teases. “Fuck you. Been thinking about it all day while working on paperwork.”

Being on your best behaviour at work does mean that you haven’t had him fuck you on his desk yet, but you’ve been craving it. The kitchen counter will have to serve as a substitute for just a little longer, it seems. “Yeah?” You pant, feeling yourself get closer and closer under his expert touch. “Bet you had to stay hidden behind that desk all day so no one would see how hard I make you.”

“Soooo fucking hard.” He agrees, reaching up and squeezing your tit through your shirt and bra. “Just have to think about how I woke you up sliding inside you this morning.”

“Best way to wake up.” Your head falls back, thumping against the kitchen cabinet but you barely notice.

“And I love to see your eyes turn glassy before you even wipe the sleep away.” Marcus curls his fingers up and leans in to press his lips to yours. “Cum for me baby.”

It should be impossible for him to command it like that and yet as soon as the words are out of his mouth you are gasping in pleasure and feeling the coil at the base of your spine pull tight right before the stars explode behind your eyes. Marcus groans as he watches your eyes flutter closed, your head tilting back against the cabinet and your sweet little pussy just soaking his fingers with the slickest, hottest cum he’s ever had the pleasure of feeling. “That’s it, baby, shake for me.”

“So fucking good.” Drawing in that first deep breath after cumming is always like the first breath of fresh air in the morning. As soon as the heaviness lifts from your limbs you’re surging forward to kiss him, wrapping one hand around his cock to draw him in closer and beg silently for him to fuck you.

It’s Marcus’s turn to groan and his hips rock forward, chasing your grip as you pump his cock. “Fuck baby, need you so bad.” He moans into your mouth and shuffles closer, his fingers digging into your hips to drag you closer to the edge of the counter.

No one could ever doubt the passion in your marriage, that is for damn sure, and you lean back on the counter so Marcus can line himself up at your entrance – moaning softly when he starts to push inside. "Fuck I love you so much."

“I love you too.” An undercover op that had meant to be a means to getting Teresa Lisbon – now Jane – off his mind, had ended up being the best thing that ever happened to him. You are the best thing that ever happened. “So fucking much.” He pushes until he’s buried to the hilt and immediately pulling back to rock into you again.

When the two of you are worked up like this it never takes long. For a couple who routinely fuck an average of twice a day, anyone would think that it would be taking longer by now. It's not like you're pent up after a week of not seeing each other or anything. In fact, you see each other constantly — always doing your best to even line up your lunch breaks whenever you possibly can. No, it's just passion. Plain and simple. Top of FormHe has zero problem slapping his thighs against the counter as he works into you. Panting out your name breathlessly as you clench down on him. “Fuck.”

“That’s it, baby.” With one arm twined around his shoulders and the other holding blindly to the counter, your legs have wrapped around Marcus’s trim waist to encourage every thrust. “Feels so fucking amazing.”

“You—your pussy.” He grunts out, biting his lip and then rocking his hips forward with a particularly harsh thrust.

“It’s all yours.” And with as fiercely as his hips slam into yours, it’s a wonder that your pussy doesn’t ache more than she does. But the only aching you ever seem to feel is from wanting him as close as possible. Like right now.

Every push of his hips is complete bliss, groaning as he leans in and presses his lips to yours. “Love you.”

“Love you.” Even mumbled against his lips it’s so true that it makes your heart swell, and you tilt your hips so he can thrust a little deeper each time. He won’t last much longer and the timer must be almost up anyway. “Cum for me, baby. Fill me up.”

“Rub your clit.” He orders. “Cum for me again. Want you to cum again.”

There is nothing you want more in the world right now than to obey, and in barely a Moment more the two of you are panting and moaning into each other’s kiss, careening toward the edge of pleasure. It’s like magic, the way your fingers immediately make your core seize up around him. That little bit of pressure ripping you over the edge and making you cry out his name.

He tumbles over the edge second later, your shaking legs wrapped tight around his waist and keep him deep inside you while he paints your walls with hot cum. It's the perfect way to unwind after a long day at the office, and you groan without restraint. The kisses you press all over his lips and jaw and neck are instantly giddy, the adrenaline rush of cumming taking over the second the crashing orgasm subsides. Marcus groans, tucking his head into your neck the second he can and chuckling as the timer for the oven starts to buzz. “Perfect timing.”

******

“This is it.” The Pike house is on the corner of two main streets in his Nebraska hometown, where the old Victorian rises up from the sidewalk like a proud pillar of the old community and you can perfectly see Marcus growing up here as a little boy. His wholesome, corn-fed, all-American childhood is perfectly framed here. “Right here.” The warmth in his voice is unmistakable, matching the grin that is on his face as he looks up at the house. “Home sweet home. Mom should be here, waiting to pounce on us.”

“You’re excited.” It’s sweet, and you know he’s missed his family something terrible. “Let’s go inside, baby. Time to introduce your wife to your mother.” His second wife, technically, but that’s neither here nor there. His divorce was years and years ago now, even though she is very much still part of the family.

“She’s going to love you.” The fact that he hasn’t had you two on the phone together is just a matter of scheduling but it will quickly be corrected. “Let’s go.” The engine is cut and he opens the driver door to the rental car that was crazy expensive but worth the autonomy of being able to take you around the town.

Like any son, Marcus doesn’t bother to knock at the door but pushes inside, calling out to his mother as soon as it is half open. The first thing that catches your eye is the line of photos down the staircase to your right, and you shift to look at them all right away. Marcus’s two siblings’ wedding photos. A collage frame of each family featuring their children at different ages. Marcus’s graduation photo from the Academy. And his parents’ wedding photo that is now some forty years old.

“Marc?” The voice rings out from the kitchen and there’s the general clanging of pots and pans as she hustles out the doorway, wiping her hands in the dishrag. “Oh Marc, you made it!”

Julia Pike is a tall and fairly slender woman with grays streaked heavily through her dirty blonde hair and laugh lines that speak to a lifetime of joy with her family. But more than all of those things, she is a hugger. Her arms envelope both you and Marcus as soon as you’re within reach and she hums so happily that anyone could be easily forgiven for confusing her with the family cat. “How was your flight, sweetie? The food was probably terrible, right? Airline food always is. Come in, come in! Leave your things here and I’ll get you some lunch.”

“Hey Mom,” his arms are just as tight around his mother as they are when he hugs you. “We didn’t even risk the airport food, so we are starving.” He pulls back and gives her his best puppy dog eyes. “Please tell me you are making my favorite?”

“Do you think I would just skip out on your first meal home in more than a year and not make you chowder?” She tuts as if she’s insulted and turned to you conspiratorially. “Of all the things in the world, it’s always been corn and potato chowder. Who knows where he picked that up from but the first time I put bacon in it he started begging for it constantly.”

“Because bacon is probably the only thing that beats pancakes.” Marcus leans in and kisses his mother’s cheek. “And Mom makes the best corn and potato chowder you will ever have.” He promises you, letting go of her so he can wrap his arm around your waist. “Why don’t you two go into the kitchen and I’ll bring in the bags?”

“Thanks, honey.” It’s just a squeeze of his hand in yours before he slips back out the door, but you already feel more at ease. His mother is so incredibly sweet.

“Don’t worry a bit, I won’t bite.” Julia promises, wrapping her arm around your shoulder and giggling quietly as she guides you to the kitchen. “I’ll quickly fill you in on his most embarrassing stories.”

“I’m sorry we haven’t been able to meet or talk before.” That’s really the first thing you want to say, knowing how much Marcus loves his family. “It’s all happened very fast, and we’re still wrapping up this case that our departments are working on together.”

“Don’t worry.” She smiles indulgently. If she had been a lesser woman, she would have been upset or insulted by the quick wedding and no communication, but she was secure in her youngest child’s affection. “You’re in the honeymoon phase and who wants to talk to your mother-in-law when you can be cuddling your new spouse?”

"Unfortunately, work doesn't give us a lot of downtime. Even getting a few days off for Christmas was something of a coup d’état." Following her into the kitchen, you look around the well-appointed space and note buttery looking rolls sitting on a baking tray nearby and the whole place smells like absolute heaven. "I really can't thank you enough for having us here a few days early. He's been so excited to come home and see everyone again."

“I have so looked forward to meeting you.” She waves away your thanks. “The way Marcus has talked about you when we chat, I just knew that we would be good friends.”

"He is...completely remarkable." The warmth that rushes to your cheeks at that admission is immediate, but it's honest. You won't shrug it away or apologize for it. "I know our meeting was pretty unconventional, but it was like we knew each other instantly. He's really...he's my best friend, on top of everything else. So I've really been looking forward to meeting all of you. To see how he got to be the amazing man I married." It sounds cheesy, like you're sucking up or something, but it's all so true. And since you are every bit as sentimental as your husband, you don't mind saying it out loud.

“Marcus has always led with his heart.” Julia acknowledges and turns back towards the stove to start dishing up large bowls of the chowder. “It has sometimes led him to heartbreak,” she tells you, turning around with the first bowl. “But somehow I think he’s got it right.”

"I love him so much." And you won't hesitate to shout it from the rooftops, either, which has a smile spreading over his mother's face as she works. Immediately jumping in, you pick up the empty basket beside the tray of rolls and stack them inside. She's set the little kitchen table for the three of you to eat at, so that is where the basket will end up. "I already can't imagine how I ever kept my head on without him, and I can't imagine a single day of my future without him in it."

“The perfect thing about it, is that I think you mean it.” She tells you, handing you a bowl of chowder. “In fact, I would bet money on it. I have a feeling about these things.”

"You're the one he gets it from." Accepting the bowl and setting it down, you take the next from her as well and make sure everything is set out. The opening and closing of the front door says that Marcus has returned and that makes your smile brighten reflexively. "He has a reputation for it at work. His sixth sense."

“Of course he does. He’s a hard worker and he follows his feelings.” She shrugs slightly. “Sometimes it is faulty, but I blame that on the other people involved.”

"People largely follow patterns, but the human ability to be unpredictable really does throw a monkey wrench in case work sometimes," you acknowledge. Of course, it can also be what makes your job so interesting at times. When Marcus comes down the hall to the kitchen you can't help the way you beam, leaning back for a second so he can help his Mom with the last bowl and get a pitcher of something to drink from the refrigerator. "It smells amazing, Mrs. Pike." Until she's given you explicit permission, you're not presuming to call her by her first name. You've known too many friends who got on their mother-in-law's bad side off the bat for being considered too informal or disrespectful because they tried to be friendly.

“That is just the best compliment I’ve ever had.” Julia can’t help but melt slightly as she pulls out a chair and motions for you to sit down. “Now, I won’t insist that you call me ‘Mom’, but I also don’t want you to call me ‘Mrs. Pike’. That’s your name too now. So, please call me Julia?”

"Julia, then." Sitting down at the table with Marcus and his mother feels a hell of a lot more comfortable than you had worried it might be. But so far? So far, so good. "Although, since you mention it, having two Special Agent Pikes at work has been fairly entertaining. We keep accidentally getting each other's deliveries from the mailroom."

She laughs, well aware of the confusion and commotion it would cause. “You might have to start adding your first initial to your mail.” She snorts, shaking her head. “Or…do nothing and use the mail mix up as a good excuse to steal a kiss on the government’s time.”

"That's..." You glance at Marcus and you both grin unapologetically before everyone digs into their lunch. "What we've been doing so far. But once Marcus gets his promotion it won't be a worry anymore. His title will change and the mix-ups will be over."

“I still cannot believe that they have not moved you into the role you went to D.C. for.” Julia huffs, frowning fiercely. It seems like that is just wrong to her and it is. Her baby was supposed to be the head of his department by now, but something about delaying retirement on the outgoing head had pushed back Marcus taking over the role.

“Technically, they have,” you assure her, not wanting his mother to think that Marcus isn’t being fully respected at work. “He is running the task force that he was promised. The decision to move him up to head of the department came after he had already accepted the transfer, so it’s on a different timeline. But it’s all on track. The current department head just wanted to finish out the calendar year and he’ll retire at the end of the month. It’s just a matter of weeks now.”

“Well…that’s good, I suppose.” Like any mother she knows, she’s protective over her children and their lives, even when they’ve long left her nest. “And Marc tells me that you work in another department? How are you enjoying it?”

“I work in the white collar crimes division,” you nod, managing not to moan out loud at your first taste of the soup. No wonder this is Marcus’s favorite, it’s like a giant hug. “Mostly I work on fraud cases. Forgeries are my specialty. Which…is how Marcus and I met. I needed an art consultant on a case I was working on, and he’s the best of the best.”

"He is the best." She beams as only a mother can and grins. "Although, at one point, he wanted nothing more than the be a rock star with his band."

“I keep telling him he should start up again.” The grin you throw your husband is nearly victorious. You just know his mother is going to take your side. “A couple of guys in my department need a new bassist for their band and he would be perfect.”

"If he would enjoy it, I have his old bass in the attic." She supplies immediately. "There is no reason you shouldn't take it back with you. I know it's in good condition, I have to keep Kelly's oldest from sneaking it out of the house every time he comes over."

“What do you think, babe?” It’s entirely up to him, even if he never wants to join another band you still want him to have music in his life. “We can absolutely bring your bass home with us if you want to.”

"If you don't mind." His eyes slide towards his mother again, While it was his bass, it had been a last gift from his father and it was something that he could not take with him when he moved out for good. All of the kids had left the last gifts that he had given them in the house they had lived in with him. A kind of living memorial to a man who could never be replaced.

“It’s totally up to you, honey.” His mother promises. “Your brother has been hinting about his little girl being interested in Grandpa’s baseball gear when she’s old enough, so I think it’s time.”

He mulls it over, taking another spoonful of the chowder as he thinks. "I will take it home." He decides after a Moment. "It would be good to start playing again and one day—" His eyes slide warmly over to you. "Maybe it will be passed down to the next generation of Pike."

Julia raises one manicured eyebrow at that and gladly notes the way your expression turns a little dreamy at the idea. “I take it that topic has been bandied around a little at home?”

"We've talked about it." Marcus admits, setting down his spoon and picking up your hand. "We want to spend a little time together first, and figured that we would return to the conversation when I've settled into my new role." That’s what you agreed upon together, but Marcus won’t deny that if it happens sooner rather than later, he’ll be over the moon.

“I have to say.” The smile she aims at both of you is proud and bright. “It sounds like you’re enjoying being married, and that is half the battle in the beginning.”

"We are, Mom." Marcus agrees easily, squeezing your hand and looking over her with pure adoration in his warm brown eyes. "I had one hell of an example with you and Dad, and I think that we would make both of your proud."

******

Celebrating his long-overdue return to his hometown means that Marcus takes you to his favorite little family restaurant for dinner that night and by the time you’re falling into his bed, you’re both feeling relaxed and incredibly sleepy. Getting to see parts of his past is a window into his soul that you’ve never gotten before, and you curl around him in your pjs with a contended sigh.

Marcus has a habit of stroking your bare back until you fall asleep. Since you’re not sleeping nude tonight, his hand slides under your pajama shirt to touch you. “So what do you think?” He asks softly, wanting to know how you feel about his town where he spent his formative years.

“It’s the perfect little slice of Americana,” you tell him with a grin. “I can absolutely see you running around here as the happiest little kid in the world.”

“I had my teenage angst.” He admits with a chuckle, thinking back to how naive he had been about what was truly heartbreaking. “Like most kids do. Rebelled a little.”

"Grew your hair and became a little rock star?" The pictures of teenage Marcus with long curls and shredded t-shirts didn't last for a very long period of his teenage years, but they definitely seem to be among his most treasured memories.

Marcus huffs out a laugh. “Yeah.” He admits. “Almost got a tattoo. Although I’m lucky I didn’t have a scar when my nose ring came out.”

"I'm sooo bummed I missed that entire phase," you giggle into his side, having now seen a plethora of photos from Marcus's younger years. "I would've been all over you in high school."

“Yeah?” He hums, grinning into the darkness. “You would have been my little groupie?”

“Oh totally.” He sounds so utterly pleased that you giggle. “I would’ve been swooning at your feet.”

“I would have let you.” He admits, his fingers trailing up and down your spine. “Given you a private performance.”

Another giggle becomes a snort, and you rest your chin on Marcus’s chest to look up at him. “Your mother might not have liked me so much as a sixteen-year-old groupie, but I woulda been stuck to you like glue.”

“She was actually pretty cool with boyfriends and girlfriends.” He tells you. “She would have just made sure we were being safe.”

“Mmkay,” you hum and laugh. “So it would have been finding refuge here after my parents forbade me from seeing you anymore. Got it.”

He hums. “I could still impress the parents with my manners.” He promises. “No forbidding going on.”

“I just would have snuck out to see you.” It’s a fun little game of pretend to play, and you press a kiss to his chest. “Nothing could keep me from you, babe. We’re stuck like glue.”

“We are stuck like glue.” He smiles at you, ecstatic about that fact, that he’s gotten it right. “Me and you babe.”

******

On Sunday morning, his siblings and their families descend on the house early. All the Pike kids are morning people, apparently, and even more so when mornings include Christmas movies. The clattering downstairs is what wakes you, and you huff a groan into your husband’s side when you realize he’s silently stroking your back in your sleep. “Early.” You mumble, knowing it’s later than the time you get up for work but early for vacation wake up time.

“I know.” He’s eager to get downstairs, but he’s also eager to stay by your side. “But I know Mom will have coffee and fruit strudels downstairs.”

“Tempting.” But it’s not nearly as tempting as morning kisses, and you shift up the bed to snag some.

Marcus hums, smiling against your lips as he holds you close. “Morning.” He whispers between soft and sweet kisses. Enjoying the intimacy of the moment with you before the chaos begins.

“Morning, my love.” There are few things better than these quiet morning moments, and you savor them when you can. Work days are far too busy for cuddling so weekends are precious and holidays? Even more so.

“I’m so glad you agreed to come.” He admits quietly. “They are crazy and loud, but they are my family and I love them.” He grins. “Almost as much as I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Being held against his chest and wrapped up in bed with him is your safe place, but the morning is calling with loud voices so you place a kiss over his heart and stretch. “So exactly how many of your million cousins are coming today?”

“All of them?” He poses it as question and then laughs. “I think after the news I was bringing my new wife leaked, everyone decided to turn it into a family reunion.”

“Ahhh.” That makes you nod in understanding. “So it’s a really good thing that I packed nice clothes for this trip. Got it.” You had prepared for it, expecting to be a little bit on display, but you know how excited he is to be home. It made you want to work extra hard to make a good impression on his family.

“Don’t worry, they will absolutely love you.” He promises. His hand slides down and he pats your ass. “We need to get up and get the day started though.”

“Come on, handsome.” You haul yourself up with a groan after one more kiss. “Let’s get dressed.”

He chuckles as he watches you grumpily get up. You never like to leave a bed without a few good groans and it’s positively endearing to him.

“My body knows it’s a holiday,” you grumble good naturedly, as if you don’t groan about getting up for about three or four sentences every morning regardless. “It’s protesting.”

“Of course it’s protesting.” He shakes his head, climbing out of the bed with far more enthusiasm and starting to make the bed. “You would sleep for twenty-three hours out of the day if you could.”

“Only since adulthood.” Getting ready together is a nice, soothing little ritual and you pull your clothes out of your suitcase with precision. “When I was younger I could just go, go, go. But now?” You shrug and offer him a smile. “Why wouldn’t I want to be in bed these days? You’re there, too.”

He grins and winks at you. “You know, I think I like your thinking.” He flirts shamelessly with you, enjoying how easy it is.

“My logic is unflappable.” You boast, grinning at him and giggling, mood lifted immensely just by his smile. “But we need to get dressed, sir. You have a football game to play, if I remember my Pike family traditions correctly.”

“That’s true. It’s always best to come to the table with black eyes and bloody noses.” He chuckles and strips off his sleep shirt to pull on a sweatshirt.

“How do you expect me to function properly with the mental image of you being rugged and athletic and then the real image of you shirtless? It’s just unfair.”

He hums, smirking at the pouting tone of your voice and he bites his lip. “You’ll have a good view from the kitchen window.”

“Kitchen window?” Even though you know that’s where you’ll be most of the time — what with his mother loving to cook and his sister Kelly running a restaurant in the nearest city with two of their cousins — you still make noises. “My ass is going to be on that porch with a mug of something warm for a front row view.”

He snorts and walks back over to kiss you before he changes from comfortable boxers to more secure boxer briefs. Less chance of his brother ‘accidentally’ hitting him in the groin again this year. “Don’t worry, I’m sure all of you will be out there at some point.”

"I will be sure to spearhead that viewing party." You promise him before patting his ass with a smirk. "I will be watching very disrespectfully."

"What will I get when I score a touchdown?" He waggles his brows at you suggestively.

"Something that is not family friendly." And that is an absolute promise. "Now come on, handsome. I have a whole lot of Pikes to meet."

"Damnit." Marcus hisses quietly, reaching down to readjust himself in those boxer briefs before he slides on his sweats. "Now I want to go back to bed."

"Love youuuu," you sing-song, sashaying back across the room to your stack of clothes.

******

Downstairs is the general chaos that Marcus had expected and he's halfway down the stairs when he hears his brother Alex shouting. "SHUT UP, stop talking about them! They're coming!"

It throws you into an unexpected fit of giggles, and you have to pause mid-stair to compose yourself before hitting the ground floor just behind Marcus. "Nothing bad, I hope?" You ask, coming around the corner to where the living room, hallway, and kitchen are overflowing with your husband's extended family.

Alex, an older, slightly more rugged version of his younger brother with their mother's nose, grins at you. "Oh, just taking bets on if you were making a baby or freaking out about meeting this nut house of family members." He admits shamelessly.

"I am that dreaded thing known as a Night Owl," you admit with your hand on your heart, as if you were admitting to some dreadful sin. "It takes me a couple of extra minutes to get going in the morning. Nothing nefarious, I am sorry to report."

"Ohhhhh nooooooo, Marc – say it isn't so?" Clutching his hand to his chest, he looks at his brother in horror. Always the comically dramatic one of the bunch, he plays it up for all he's worth considering that the entire family is focused on all of you right now. He grins and winks at you just in case you aren't aware that he's not serious. "Take her back! Take her back to the wife store!"

"No returns." With a smirk and a smothered laugh, you wave your ring in the air — earning you some whoops and hollers from the assembled women of the Pike family. "Now I'm gonna get some tea, you boys play nice."

"Damn, she's way too good looking for your ugly ass." As soon as you sail by him, Alex grabs Marcus and pulls him in for a bone crushing hug that only brothers can give. "Fuck, it's good to see you."

"We all missed you." His sister Kelly is on the other side of him immediately, smacking Alex's arm away so she can hug their baby brother.

"Miss you too." He laughs, looking over her shoulder as he hugs his favorite sibling. "You, not Alex." He clarifies and grins when his older brother shoots him a bird.

"No one misses Alex," she laughs, sticking her tongue out at the oldest of the Pike siblings with glee. In typical middle child fashion, Kelly had become loud and active and attention-grabbing in her own right. All of which might have also been a survival tactic for having two very individual brothers. "You're good, Marc? Not working too hard? Mom said they still haven't given you your damn promotion."

"It's coming." He promises with a nod of his head. "Right now, I'm just riding out my time as a flunkie so I can spend more time with my gorgeous wife instead of balancing department budgets late into the night." He tells her with a grin as his eyes slide over the kitchen, hoping for a glance of you.

"Ugh," his sister groans, fully teasing. "He's still in the honeymoon period."

"Hope it never ends." Marcus rolls his eyes when he looks back at her, but he's not lying. He hopes your marriage is just as strong as his parents’. They were in love until the day his father passed and still his mother will happily say that he is the love of her life.

"Gross." Alex chimes in, grimacing at his brother for full effect. It doesn't matter that he and Kelly are both happily married to supportive spouses that they love with all their hearts. They have to tease Marcus.

"Yep." Marcus smirks at his older brother. "She gave me cooties." He warns childishly.

"It's supposed to be the other way around, ya know." Alex ruffles Marcus's short hair and needles his younger brother with glee. "You're supposed to give her cooties. Or did you not pay attention in sex ed?"

He takes the ruffling of his hair with only a small groan and chuckles as he dodges another swipe. "Oh, I paid attention." He promises. "I'm a Boy Scout, remember?"

"Yeah, yeah," Alex rolls his eyes. "You never let us forget. Perfect youngest child with his perfect extracurriculars and now his perfect job." Though the older brother might gripe, they're all very proud of Marcus. It's just more fun to make fun.

"Don't forget, perfect wife." Marcus adds. As much shit as they give him, they were also his biggest support system when he was going through his divorce. They had kept him sane and he loves them for it.

"Do we call this 'the third time's the charm'?" Kelly asks, lightly teasing but so incredibly glad to see their little brother happy again. And happier, if this morning is any indication, than they've seen him with any partner before. "I'm gonna tell her all your most embarrassing stories while you guys are playing football. The ones that Mom doesn't know."

"I've already told her." He lies through his teeth, aware that he's not come close to telling you all his embarrassing stories, but he has to put on a brave front. Any and all fear will be utilized against him if he doesn't stand strong. Shrugging, he pretends to be unconcerned. "So go ahead."

"Gonna call your bluff, little brother," she announces before hustling off to find you in the kitchen.

"Shit." He hisses under his breath, dreading what stories she will spread. Alex chuckles and shakes his head. "You're in for it now, little brother."

The kitchen is a different sort of chaos on this Christmas Eve morning, but the sound of the kids watching A Muppet Christmas Carol in the living room is a welcome soundtrack to all the fuss. "It's their tradition," Julia is explaining to you, talking about the next generation of young cousins and their movie choice. "Their parents and some of the older siblings get in on the lawn football game, but they like to watch Christmas movies all morning until we're ready to break out the stuff to make gingerbread houses after lunch."

“Ohhhhh wifey.” Kelly trills as she floats into the kitchen, stopping by the fridge to pull out the bottles of Prosecco she had put in there when she arrived. “It is my duty as your sister-in-law – the best one – to ply you with alcohol and tell you embarrassing stories about my baby brother.” She grins as she holds up the bottle. “Now, OJ or cranberry juice?”

The laugh that bubbles out of you with Kelly's appearance is honest and light, and you finish your last sip of tea before attempting to speak. "It’s a little too early for alcohol for me, but makes yours with a little bit of both." The suggestion is full of absolute certainty and you add, "Trust me," when she tilts her head at you with curiosity. "One part OJ, one part cranberry, two parts bubbly. It's perfect. I’ll just have equal parts orange juice and cranberry juice for now. That’s also absolutely delicious."

“Alright…sounds pretty good. I’ll give it a try.” Her eyes slide over to Julia and she raises a brow. “Mom? Are you in?” She asks mischievously.

"You two have fun." Julia shakes her head, bowing out in favour of letting her middle child and the family's newest member have some one-on-one time. "I'm going to get lunch in the oven early, I think. So we can all relax a little."

“Of course.” Kelly rolls her eyes and looks at you with a grin. “You’ll love Mom’s lasagna. It’s a tradition.”

"I've heard nothing but amazing things." In fact, Marcus has been raving about his mother's cooking. "I hear it's on the menu at your restaurant, too? The famous family recipe."

Kelly nods and shrugs slightly as she snags two champagne flutes from the cabinet. “Still can’t make it as good as Mom can.” She admits shamelessly.

"That's Mom Magic," you hum, not quite admitting out loud that it's the type of magic you want to have one day.

“Also probably the secret ingredient that she’s not telling me about.” Kelly teases her Mom, knowing there’s no ingredient, but loving to rag on her.

"Patience," Julia tells her definitively as she starts to bustle around the kitchen again. "It's patience. And my kids all love instant gratification."

Kelly snorts as she pours the juices into the glasses. “Of course we do, Mom. Why do you think you have grandkids?”

"Could always use some more!" She sing-songs, glancing in your direction with a smirk before turning back to her task at hand.

“Mom, don’t scare her off by being greedy.” Kelly scolds her mother playfully. “If they want to give you more grandkids, they will do it on their schedule.” It’s important that you understand that they will tease and play but they will never be those obnoxious in-laws that demand you do things their way or give them what they want for your life. It was always what Marcus’s ex-fiancée had claimed, that they were too pushy, when they had just been asking questions about their future.

“It’s okay,” you assure both women, not scared off in the least. “We do want kids, just not quite yet. We’re enjoying the honeymoon period a little too much to want to change anything just yet.”

Even though you’re talking about her brother, Kelly grins and winks at you as she picks up her mimosa and hands you your juice. “Practice makes perfect, right?” She jokes.

It’s not even worth hiding your smirk or the mild embarrassment in your face, since she’s absolutely right. “Something like that,” you agree with burning hot cheeks.

“See? You’ll have more grandbabies in no time, Mom.” Kelly taps her glad to yours. “Welcome to the nut house.” She welcomes you. “We don’t bite…hard.”

If it was his friends instead of his family, you might tease that Marcus does bite hard, but his mother and sister don’t need to know about the tender marks on your inner thighs. “Thank you for having me,” you joke instead. “I’m very glad to join this particular nut house.”

“We are happy to have you.” Julia promises as she carefully covers the massive lasagna in multiple layers of aluminum foil. Not wanting the top to burn. Luckily, she had already put it together the day before so it’s ready to go.

******

You were warned about the football game. You really were. Marcus had tried to impress upon you how over-the-top he gets with his brother and brother-in-law and cousins. You had thought touch football on the front lawn was a sort of cute, insanely all-American tradition to have. Even in the snow it had sounded quaint. Now that they’re halfway through the game, though? You can see the people who really have fun with this tradition are the wives and girlfriends. The group of you are up on the porch with mugs of wassail either shouting encouragements or giggling to yourselves in appreciation of attractive men tackling each other (partially) for your amusement.

Even though it’s colder than hell, the men have nearly all removed their shirts. Panting and sweating as they try to their hardest to beat the shit out of each other for sport.

“I love football.” Alex’s wife chuckles when she comes up beside you and Kelly and hands you both iced gingerbread cookies.

“Pass interference!” Marcus shouts, shaking his head and huffing after his cousin shoved him out of the way. “That’s bullshit!”

“Forgot how to play dirty, Fed?” His cousin laughs it off, having discarded his Omaha Fire Department sweatshirt on the porch railing. “Fight back, Marcus!”

“Aren’t you the one who had to have a pack of peas on your nuts last year?” Marcus taunts back. “Thought you were gonna use those tiny peanuts to make a baby?”

“Twins on the way, baby!” The cousin – Ryan – cheers back, like somehow he was extra virile enough to cause twins, rather than it being entirely up to his wife’s anatomy.

“Alright, alright, focus up assholes.” Alex calls, bringing the two men back into the fold of the game. Good natured smack talk is all part of the fun, of course.

“He’s just mad he can’t throw.” Ryan shouts from the other side, grinning when Alex shoots him a bird. “Most interceptions of all the QBs.”

Shaking off the heckling with a laugh, Marcus waves at you and blows a kiss up to the porch as he jogs by to retake his position. “So you’re Marcus’s new…fiancée?”

You hear the question from elsewhere on the porch and you turn to face the speaker. “Wife.” It’s his cousin Ryan’s pregnant wife, of course, and you steel yourself with a forced smile. Marcus’s cousin Ryan had married his ex-wife years after the divorce. Honestly you can’t quite figure out how the whole family seems okay with it, but they are. “I’m his wife.”

“Oh?” Her eyes widen and her hand stops rubbing her rounded stomach. “That’s— I hadn’t heard! Congratulations are in order.”

“Thank you.” She actually seems to mean it instead of having some underlying sarcasm, and that soothes you right away. “It was recent. I guess word is still getting around.”

“I’m sure Julia wanted to make a big toast tonight.” She bites her lip and sighs. “I’m Vanessa. I hope you don’t hold it against me.”

“Honestly?” A small laugh bubbles out of you, surprising you both. “I ought to thank you. If you hadn’t divorced him, then I could never have married him.”

Staring at you for a second, she grins back at you. “You’re welcome, then. Part of the cousin-in-law package.” She snorts. “Free of charge, of course.”

While you don’t think Marcus ever would have lied to you about what happened, it seemed a little too straight forward to you. Like maybe he was leaving something out to spare feelings, which is definitely something your sweet and generally gentle husband would do. “I hope it really was as painless as Marcus says.”

“Oh, Marcus was – is – amazing.” Vanessa insists immediately, having enough affection for Marcus that she is still willing and able to come to his defense. “We met freshman year of college, decided it was love, and didn’t have a clue what love really was.” She shakes her head. “We adore each other, just— as friends and not partners.”

“I admit, I couldn’t really understand why the whole family seemed totally fine with everything.” Deciding to be honest, you just shrug and take a sip of wassail. “But it only takes thirty seconds to realize that there’s no ill will, and that’s…it’s a big comfort.”

“I met Ryan when I was working on my masters.” Vanessa admits with a sheepish grin. “He had been in the military and deployed when I was with Marcus. I didn’t even know until we were talking about meeting the folks.”

“It would have been a very awkward surprise.” Being able to laugh together is a relief, one that you’re not going to take for granted at all. “I’m glad to see that everyone has ended up happy. That’s so rarely the way, and it’s a shame.”

“It is a shame and I hated that Marcus was having a rough go for a while.” She frowns fiercely and shakes her head. “I don’t know what that Lisbon lady was thinking but she could have done so much better breaking things off with him.”

“She doesn’t have the greatest reputation around the office.” You admit, though the whispers have gotten to you through backways, and only since you started seeing Marcus so you’re sure you only hear the bad stuff. “Either way, everyone is happy. That’s what matters.”

Vanessa nods after a moment, her frown turning into a smile. “I understand if you find it odd, or don’t like me on the principle that I’ve slept with your husband, but I hope we can be friends.”

"It doesn't make any sense to be upset with you over something that happened years before Marcus and I ever even met." Putting your hand out to her, the offer of a handshake is your formal show of a truce. No hard feelings. Not from your end. "I'm happy to be friends."

“Well, that went better than I ever hoped.” Amy admits, coming out of the kitchen with a fresh bottle of Prosecco. “Top off on mimosas, anyone? The juice content is getting a little high.”

A few people around the porch take her up on the offer, but you politely shake your head and decide to stick with wassail. The game seems to be wrapping up as well, which means it will soon be time to do the traditional Pike family Christmas Eve gift exchange before dinner. At some point Marcus's mother had read about the Icelandic tradition of receiving a book to read on Christmas Eve and loved it so much that it has become tradition.

“Whoever gets ’Beautiful Secret’….” Vanessa hums, waggling her eyebrows. “You’re welcome.”

"Welcome to the real tradition," Kelly jokes, looping her arm through yours as the group from the porch starts to pour back into the house in advance of the football players. "Most of the books exchanged between the adult members of the family are a little...saucy."

“Mom pretends she doesn’t know any of them.” Amy snorts, grinning knowingly. “But that woman has a stash of trashy romance novels from the seventies in the attics and somehow, those boxes are multiplying.”

"Marcus clued me in," you promise, following your two sisters-in-law inside. "I brought my best offering, I promise." The choice you made was very specific, and really has one recipient in mind. Even thinking about it just makes you nervous for what’s to come.

“Of course he did.” There’s a grin tossed your way. “Marcus was the one who was always reading Mom’s books when she wasn’t looking.”

"I'm not even mad about it." A laugh bubbles out of you that you don't bother to stifle, and you shrug. "It's purely educational for him, I swear."

“Ugh, I don’t want to know about my brother’s bedroom habits.” His sister shudders playfully before she points her finger at you. “As long as he’s taking care of you.”

“Oh, I promise.” He’s more than taking care of you. Marcus treats you like a queen. But Kelly doesn’t want to know that so you just smile and let the happy, hazy expression on your face do the talking for you.

“Ohhhhhhh.” All the women in the kitchen making a knowing noise and grin at you. “That answers that.”

“Answers what?” The oldest Pike sibling is the one to lead the charge into the kitchen and Alex makes his way over to his wife to kiss her before going for a bottle of Gatorade from the refrigerator.

“If your brother is taking care of his responsibilities.” The kiss is accompanied by a cheeky grin.

“I thought you couldn’t talk about the case yet?” Alex looks back at Marcus, who comes into the kitchen behind him.

Marcus frowns in confusion and props his hands on his hips as he catches his breath. “Huh?”

“Not that,” you laugh, reaching to give your sweaty husband a hug. “We were just talking about the book exchange and got a little off-topic.”

“Oh?” He eyes his sister and sister-in-law with playful suspicion. “Don’t believe a word they say.” He jokes.

“Sure, honey.” You snicker lightly. “But they should believe me.”

“Of course.” He scoffs, leaning in and dropping a soft kiss on your lips with a grin. “Federal agents are held up to a high standard.”

“Yes, we absolutely are.” It earns him another kiss, and those familiar butterflies in your belly that have been so active lately swell up again at just how much you love him.

“I’m gonna jump in the shower.” Marcus tells you. “Kicking ass made me sweaty.” He grins again.

“Hurry back.” Partly because you miss having him at your side, but also because it’s almost time for the book exchange, and you’re just as excited as you after nervous for that.

Marcus winks. “Of course, sweetheart. Ten minutes, tops.”

“Then we’ll start the book exchange in ten minutes.” His mother decides. And the kids can go first, just in case he takes a few extra minutes.”

“And so they are reading.” Vanessa snorts. “Less likely to pay attention to our books.”

“Probably better for everyone,” you agree, offering a smile and a knowing laugh.

******

Marcus is true to his word, bouncing down the stairs with wet hair and fresh clothes nine minutes later. The spicy, musky cologne he’s wearing is one that you picked for him and he loves it. “I’m back. So stop talking about me.”

“It’s only good things, babe.” When he plops down beside you in the living room window seat, he has a wrapped gift in his hand that looks like the size of a standard novel and it makes the thick volume in your lap feel even heavier. No turning back now…you remind yourself silently.

Mistaking your slightly tighter grip on the book as nerves, Marcus reaches over and takes your hand. “They love you, babe.” He whispers confidently. “My brother was already telling me he likes you more than he likes me.” It was a joke, but it makes him happy that you are so easily accepted into the fold.

“Alex seems easily swayed,” you tease, leaning into Marcus’s side. “All I had to do was promise to listen to all of his favorite embarrassing stories about you.”

“Thanks, creep.” Marcus scowls at Alex, pretending to be mad while his brother hams it up. “Anytime man!”

“Alright, alright.” Julia comes back into the living room with her own parcel in her hands. “Kiddos first. Everybody circle up!” The grandkids and cousins scramble to comply, all sitting around together knee to knee after strategically choosing who to sit next to like their lives depend on it. When Grandma Julia gives the word, everyone passes the book in their hands to the person to their left.

“Now. Exchange the book with the person across from you.” Julia grins as the shuffle starts.The kids eagerly comply, giggling gleefully, and then again when Julia tells them to pass their books two people to the right this time. Around and around, the books pass, each kid squealing when the brightly colored package they want gets closer. “Alright just two more moves.” She warns. The books get passed across the circle diagonally and then once more three people to the left before Julia says to go ahead and open their gifts, and then she turns to the adults with a grin. “Ours is less complicated,” she promises. She likes to get the kids riled up but the adults are always already so tired that she just turns on a Christmas song and announces that the game is ‘musical books’. “Just pass it to the right until I tell you to stop or the song ends.” White Christmas begins to play and you anxiously hand your wrapped book over to Marcus as they begin to go around the circle.

Marcus grins as the groaning from the adults starts. The jokes and the laughter as they try to shove the books into the person next them as fast as they can. “It’s fun!” He promises you.

It is fun. Or it would be, if you weren’t praying that his mother remembered her end of the deal that you made last night after Marcus had shooed you both out of the kitchen to wash up after dinner. You had admitted that your book gift was specifically for your husband and she had assured you that she would make sure it ended up in his hands. You just hope she sticks to that.

“Okaaaaaaaay.” Julia is watching the book like a hawk. Making sure that it’s close. “Aaaand…stop!” She orders.

Your heart leaps when the large book ends up in Marcus’s hands, and you breathe a deep sigh of relief. “Everybody open up!” Kelly laughs excitedly, but you can’t. Frozen in your seat beside your husband, you watch as he peels the carefully folded and taped wrapping paper to expose the bright yellow cover of the book you selected for him. At this point you’re just holding your breath, not realizing the entire room is watching you.

Marcus reads the book’s title and frowns for a moment. This was your gift. “I— babe?” He sputters, looking up at you with the most hopeful expression on his face.

“Open it,” you murmur softly, already starting to tear up at the light in his eyes.

“But you said—” he doesn’t want to admit how he had wished you had said you were ready when you kept saying it wasn’t the right time, but he wasn’t going to push you. “Okay.” Opening the book, he finally looks away from you.

The dated sonogram is staring him in the face when he pulls open the cover of We’re Pregnant! The First Time Dad’s Pregnancy Handbook accompanied by a handwritten note in the deep blue ink of your favourite pen.

“Meeting you was a surprise, falling in love with you was as easy as breathing. Marrying you came like wildfire, and now being parents is our next great adventure. The tiniest Agent Pike is expected in July.”

“Oh my God.” Marcus chokes out, barely able to breathe as he stares at the tiny little nugget on the picture. “Babe…we’re gonna be parents.” It hits him and the book is dropped into his lap as he surges forward to kiss you.

The entire crowd of Marcus’s family around you have exploded into a ruckus of gasps and shouts and cheering, but your world has narrowed down only to him. You’ve been sitting on this secret for two while weeks and barely managed to contain your own excitement. Sure, you had said you wanted to wait. To enjoy being married first. But that baby was having none of it. It bypassed your birth control like a champ, and from the moment your doctor told you it wasn’t stress or a seasonal flu running you down, you’ve been ecstatic.

“Baby, baby.” Marcus can’t help but giggle and grin against your lips as he kisses you over and over again. “I love you. So much. I can’t—”

“Breathe, baby.” And yet you can’t help giggling, breathless right along with him. “Can’t have you hyperventilating on me. We’re gonna have to get through a whole lot in the next seven months.”

“I— I thought you wanted to wait.” He shakes his head, trying to understand when this happened, how. Even if he logistically knows how.

“I thought I wanted to wait, too.” You shrug, though, laughing through giddy tears. “But I’m so excited, honey. I can’t believe I actually managed to keep it a secret.”

“Oh my God.” Marcus pulls you close, everyone around him fading to the background as he focuses on you. “I can’t believe you did either.” He admits, unable to stop beaming at you. “This is— you can’t ever top this Christmas present.” He decides with a laugh.

“Nope. Never.” Wrapped up in him is exactly where you want to be, but first you wipe the tears from under his eyes and press kisses to his cheeks. “But I have no problem with our first Christmas being our best.”

“I love you so much.” Marcus can’t even stop himself from caressing your stomach, in awe of the knowledge there’s your baby inside.

“I love you, too.” You’ve already lost track of how many times you’ve had your hand on your unchanged stomach since you found out about the baby, and you know that that’s only going to increase now that you can do it together. “And I love this little peanut so damn much.”

“You’re gonna be a Mom.” He chuckles. “And I’m gonna be a Dad.” He’s always wanted to be the father that his own was. Continuing the legacy of Pike dads.

“Merry Christmas, love.” Murmured against his lips, you kiss him one more time before his whole family descends on you with shrieked glee and hugs and a deluge of congratulations. Your first Christmas with the Pikes will probably never be topped, but that’s okay. It’s the perfect next step in your perfectly imperfect life.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Marcus Pike #Marcus Pike x reader #Marcus Pike x you #Marcus Pike x female reader #Marcus Pike x f!reader #pure fluff #Christmas fic #all-American softie #The Mentalist #Mentalist fanfic

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mysaintkitten · 7 months

Text

Primal | Jim x fem!reader

prompt: after narrowly escaping death, jim’s adrenaline is through the roof, and his instincts take over (NSFW, no minors)

WARNINGS: brief mentions of 28 days later plot, jim’s a little pushy (but it’s overall consensual), unprotected sex (p in v), praise, creampie

word count: 1.1k

this is an awkward length but all i can think about is buzzcut cillian 💔

as you and jim were out attempting to find some food, you heard the sound of heavy, quick footsteps approaching. out of habit, you both raise your bats. at this point in the epidemic you knew to carry blunt objects and weapons on you at all times, so you were prepared incase this happened. while you both had turned to see an infected charging in your direction, another was charging in the opposite direction behind jim’s back. as you swung your bat at the head of the one coming towards you, you heard jim hit the ground, groaning loudly.

your head whips behind you and you see jim on his back, an infected on top of him, wailing and grunting in his face.

“help! fuck! shoot it, y/n!” he exclaims, placing his bat between the infected’s chin and neck, pushing as hard as he could against it’s inhuman force. with shaky hands, you pull the revolver out of your waistband and pull the trigger, hoping to god that the bullet gets where it needs to go. jim scrunches his faces and turns his neck to the side, trying to avoid getting any of the infected blood in his eyes or mouth. the body goes limp above him, jim rolls the body off and quickly rises to his feet, using his dirty crewneck sleeve to wipe off the blood from his face.

“we have to go. now.” jim fretted, grabbing your wrist and dragging you towards the door at a quick pace. as you’re about leave, you hear the all too familiar grunts and gasps of another infected.

“run! quick!” he exclaims, essentially pushing you out the door as you two sprint back to your home base.

your lungs are burning, your body is tired, but you have to keep running.

finally, you’re home, you drop the bats and the weapons onto the floor.

“jesus christ!” you huff, back against the wall as jim slams the door behind him, quickly locking it.

both of you breathing heavily at the mixture of exhaustion and adrenaline cording through your veins. jim slips off the crewneck, revealing the tee he had on underneath.

“that was so close ..” he mumbles breathlessly, you nod in agreement, using the back of your hand to wipe the sweat off from your forehead, “i feel so alive, y/n ..” he adds, bringing his body to closer to yours.

you exhale softly, “yeah, me too, jim.” you close your eyes and attempt to regulate your breathing, until you feel fingers creeping around your waist and lips on your neck, your eyes shoot back open.

“jim? what are you doing?” you croaked, feeling a bit thrown off by his gesture, he moans softly into your neck, you feel his growing bulge graze your thigh,

“so close to losing it all … would’ve never been able to hold you.. or touch you again ..” he whines into your neck, nipping gently at the skin

you could feel his heart thumping through his chest,

“jim .. your heart .. take a breath, hun ..” you coo, placing your hand behind his head, running your fingers through the buzzed hair.

“i’m alive, baby. can’t you feel it?” he chuckles softly, pulling his head out from your neck to kiss you on the lips. it’s sloppy and eager, his grip on your waist tightening as he continues to rut against you.

before long, he’s detaching his lips and turning your body around, pressing your chest against the wall, now placing his chest directly behind yours preventing you from moving.

“jim?” you blurt out, feeling the air being slightly squeezed out from your lungs, “feel like a goddamn animal .. need to be inside you ..” he groans, hastily sliding your pants and underwear down from behind, exposing your bare ass and pussy.

he uses his free hand to unzip his pants, tugging his waistline and boxers down to free his flushed cock.

you feel him abruptly slide himself inside of you, giving you no time to adjust, “oh!” you gasp, your mind going blank at the sudden fullness,

he moans into the nape of your neck, gripping your hips roughly, “such a perfect pussy .. heaven on earth ..”

he snaps his hips inside of you feverishly, pounding into you at a quick and needy pace, it feels almost primal. like he’s in fucking heat.

“j-im!” you whimper, “slow dow-n a bit!”, you swing your hand behind you and dig your nails into his thigh,

“cunts grippin’ me too good .. can’t help it, baby ..” he growls, snaking his hand around to your front to rub quick circles on your clit. his relentless pace makes you feel like some sort of fuck-toy beneath him.

it’s all so filthy. his grunts, his pace, you whine loudly and your knees start to go weak beneath you. small huffs leaving your mouth as each thrusts connects to your ass. you feel yourself becoming embarrassingly close, maybe because he hasn’t fucked you this aggressively the entirety of your relationship. you had never seen him like this.

he feels you become slicker around his cock, “that’s it, come undone for me, pretty girl ..” he chuckles. his hot, shaky breaths sending chills down your spine.

“god, fuck, baby!” he groans, “gonna fill that pussy up .. ‘s mine .. all mine ..” he rambles, his thrusts becoming weaker and sporadic,

his words and his aggressive nature push you over the edge and you come hard around his cock, your legs nearly giving out from underneath you as he continues to fuck into you.

jim sees you go limp and feels your orgasm drip out of you slightly, he laughs breathily, “that’s it .. good girl .. such a good girl …”

after a few more shaky pumps, he’s coming inside you. mumbling praises about how good you are and how good your pussy feels, even a small ‘love you’.

his thrusts slow down to a complete stop before he pulls his cock out of you, still hard and flushed. he takes a step back and spreads you apart gently, watching as some of his come began to drip out of your used cunt.

“jesus ..” is all he can manage to say before placing a firm smack on your ass, you yelp slightly at the sudden sting.

he turns your body around and rubs his hand on your behind gently, soothing the sting with his rough hands. he kisses your lips for a few moments before pulling away to tuck himself back into his pants. you follow his lead and shimmy your pants back up.

“gotta get back out there, we didn’t find any food ..” he says, sliding his jacket on. he seemed to move on rather quickly, but for the rest of the day all you can think about is him, and how his come is gradually leaking out of you and into your panties.

—-

jim PLEASE let me hit it

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x fem!reader #jim 28 days later #i don’t think there’s much of a demand for jim LOL #but he’s so sexy #i hope y’all enjoy #:)

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liminal-space-lesbian · 8 months

Text

Red

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Enid Sinclair

Summary: Wednesday never lets anything get under her skin, except of course her girlfriend Enid Sinclair. Much to Wednesday's dismay, the werewolf loves making her girlfriend blush.

Warnings: None, just pure fluff and ooc Wednesday

Inspired by pixels.on.a.screen on instagram, ofc. The bold text is courtesy of her gorgeous creative brain

Wednesday always prided herself on being unemotional. She always had a stoic expression on her face, and she didn't let things get under her skin. She didn't care about anyone other than herself, she had no friends, and she definitely never fell in love.

Well, until now of course.

And with someone such a polar opposite to herself at that, she could nearly throw up at the irony. Enid Sinclair, the color loving extrovert with an inclination for physical touch. Everything Wednesday despised. But oh, how she loved her.

Unfortunately for Wednesday, Enid adored pushing passed Wednesday's well crafted walls and proving that the brunette did in fact have feelings. Wednesday kept up the facade as well as she could, but she was only so strong to the werewolf's charm.

"Wenny come here." Enid drawled from where she sat at a lunch table. She offered Wednesday a broad grin as she opened her arms and beckoned her girlfriend closer. Wednesday rolled her eyes.

"I don't respond to ridiculous nicknames such as that." The brunette protested, yet her actions said otherwise. She walked over to Enid, staring down at her with a rather unimpressed look. The blond giggled, wrapping her arms around Wednesday's waist and tugging the girl closer.

"Baby, do you wanna go to town after class today and have a little date? Just the two of us?" Enid asked, batting her thick eyelashes up at the brunette, giving Wednesday her best puppydog eyes.

"I suppose it wouldn't be a terrible idea... So long as it doesn't infringe on my writing time." Wednesday said with faux reluctance, looking away from Enid's smile with a faint blush. She could hardly stand it when Enid looked at her like that, with those big blue eyes and that cute smile.

"Awesome! I can't wait! Should we wear our snoods?" Enid asked excitedly, her hands playing with the hem of Wednesday's blazer. Wednesday shot her a weak glare.

"Don't push it." She snarked, causing Enid to giggle. The sound elicited a disgusting response from the ravenette, causing her heart to skip a beat and for a flush to adorn her cheeks.

"Aww, please? I wanna take selfies at the cafe." Enid pleaded with an exaggerated pout. Wednesday forced herself to look away, drawing her lips into a thin line as she tried to find the resolve to tell Enid no.

She didn't get much time to pluck up the nerve, since Enid surprisngly pulled Wednesday down into her lap. The shorter girl shot her hand out and gripped Enid's shoulder in surprise, looking at the blond with wide eyes. The werewolf simply giggled at Wednesday's surprise, leaning forward to place a small kiss to the tip of her nose.

"You know Wednesday, for someone who loves black so much, I think red looks best on you." Enid teased with a smirk, gently tracing the blush on Wednesday's face with her fingers. Wednesday swallowed thickly, trying to meet Enid's gaze but being unable to.

"I am entirely sure that I have no idea what you mean." Wednesday replied stiffly, glancing at Enid out of the corner of her eye to see the girl beaming at her. Enid lets out a small giggle, placing a chaste kiss on Wednesday's lips before pulling away and loosening her grip on her girlfriends waist, giving her the opportunity to leave if she wished. Wednesday stayed put, settling more comfortably on Enid's lap.

"Whatever you say sweetheart." Enid teased, purposefully using a petname that she knew Wednesday despised. The brunette shot her a glare and rolled her eyes. She absentmindedly fixed the lapels of Enid's blazer, choosing to redirect her attention.

"Alright. Well." She paused, glancing up at Enid's face to find the girl already staring at her attentively. She felt a hot flush run over her entire body at this, and she swallowed almost nervously. Of course she wasn't actually nervous, or flustered, or anything of the sort. She was Wednesday Addams, and Wednesday Addams didn't have feelings.

"I shall pick you up at the fountain after my writing hour and take you on that date." Wednesday declared, gazing down at Enid's perfect features. Her sweet smile, the slight pink tint of her blush, the way her lips looked so enticing.

"Alright! See you then Willa." Enid replied quickly with a grin, noticing Wednesday's intense gaze roaming her features. She relished the attention, but more so she relished in the fact she could make her girlfriend so flustered.

With that, Wednesday got to her feet and straightened her skirt before turning to Enid one final time, bending down to place a chaste kiss on her lips. "I love you, cara mia." Wedneday murmured against Enid's lips, causing the blond to blush crimson, grinning up at her girlfriend.

"I love you too Wednesday." She responded earnestly, her face nearly aching from how she smiled. She noticed a small smile tug at Wednesday's lips before the girl stood up and hastily walked away, heading towards her next class.

Wednesday Addams always prided herself on being unemotional. She didn't let things get under her skin, she didn't care about anyone other than herself, and she definitely never fell in love. Except one time, with a girl named Enid Sinclair.

And oh, how she loved her.

a/n this was corny asf

#wenclair #wednesday addams #enid sinclair #wednesday addams x enid sinclair #enid sinclair x wednesday addams #wenclair fluff #wednesday 2022 #wednesday tv series #wednesday netflix

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luke-hughes43 · 4 months

Note

luke hughes request

luke and reader grew up together as their parents are best friends, playing on the same hockey team together being best friends, but being the youngest of jack and quinn and the reader having no siblings, luke and the reader were the babies of the family. Reader and luke went to umitch together and played hockey together there too, reader and luke both got drafted in 2021 only one pick form each other but also meaning then went to diffent teams as well something they weren’t very happy about about. luke and reader have always acted like best friends so no one thought they would be anything different than that but when they went to collage the two saw each other different and started dating each other and quickly realized they worked perfect dating just as they do best friends. so maybe they haven’t told anyone and they are going to home to the lake house for the 23 season and maybe one day they are on the boat and luke takes his shirt off and he just has scratches and hickeys everywhere. and the boys are all the boy/(like jack and quinn’s friends since all luke and reader friends know about them) are shocked that luke would have that on him, and jack is like how did you sneak someone in and quinn noticed the blush on the readers cheeks and when she turned her head he could see a hickey on her neck and quinn quickly figured it out and maybe jack and quinn are just shocked and idkkk what to do for the ending so you pick :)

oooo i love this idea!

so reader and luke are besties and inseparable and so she goes 3rd to the ducks and obvi luke is excited for her but is a little sad bc they'll be on opposite sides of the country when she signs.

they go to umich together and after a fun night out at a party, they drunkenly confess their feelings to each other and start dating a few days later after realizing that they both meant what they said. all of their friends at umcih know that they are together and their parents know but it hasn't quite come up to jack and quinn yet.

the summer after luke signs (summer of 2023) is the first time they really get to have a summer with each other since they both had a bunch of hockey stuff going on.

reader spends the whole summer attached to luke's side which jack and quinn don't bat an eye at.

what they do notice is during the first week or so, luke takes his shirt off to get in the lake and it's scratched up to all hell. thankfull jim and ellen weren't with them. quinn is the first to notice it and his face twists in disgust as he instantly knows what it is.

jcak notices is after and calls luke out, "lukey, what the hell happened to your back? you look like you got in a fight with a thorn bush and lost?"

luke blushes and makes eye contact with reader who also blushes. jack then says, "who could've even done that? did you like sneak someone in without us knowing?"

jack is obviously oblivious to reader's face. quinn, however, is not. quinn notices the blush on her face and even sees a small hickey on her neck and quickly puts the peices together. luke sees the gears turnign in quinn's head and glares at him before sitting enxt to reader and putting an arm around here.

quinn comments, "jack, are you that fucking stupid?"

"what?"

"him and y/n are fucking. he didn't sneak anyone in. it's him and y/n."

"ohhhh. that makes a lot of sense actually. wait, gross! i share a wall with you guys! are you at least wearing protection?"

reader def gets embarrassed and hides in luke's chest who tightens his grip on her. luke snaps at jack, "yes we're being safe jack. and i really don't think i need to be having the safe sex talk with you of all people jack."

quinn snorts and keep his comments to himself. he trusts luke more than he trusts jack anyways. so now they're just shitting on luke for having a girlfriend and being in love.

#luke hughes #umich hockey #new jersey devils #nhl hockey #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine

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readyforthegarden · 7 months

Text

30 Minutes or Less

A continuation of Adonis and Angel's relationship since their first meetup.

Pairing: Danny Wagner x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Smut, slightly rough sex, roleplay, Danny being an absolute demon in the most delicious way 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI!!!

♥️♥️♥️

Friday nights were usually date nights for you and Danny. Ever since you two met up, your Adonis had swept you off your feet, and your relationship quickly fell into place. It should have felt rushed, too fast and startling, the way your sleepovers turned into duffle bags filled with a weeks worth of clothes, until finally your lease was up and Danny offered for you to live with him. There wasn’t a moment of hesitancy between you two, and that weekend, he was driving you insane in a tank top cut to the hem on the sides, driving a UHaul with all of your belongings to his house, that damn backwards baseball cap keeping his curls from tangling in the wind coming in the open window.

Since then you both tried to establish nights to spend together. He’d gotten a new job at a music studio, playing fill-in instruments for various artists coming through and recording, and trying his hand at producing. You had been in awe of his talents, his home filled with instruments, a drum kit in the basement, a wall of guitars with a mandolin in between, a small piano and keyboard sat on the opposite side of the basement. It amazed you how he could walk up to an instrument and play it without a thought.

Tonight was Friday night date night, and you were perched on the couch in a pair of soft cotton shorts and a cropped tank top, watching trash tv to pass the time.

Your phone rang, and you paused the show you were watching, picking it up and tapping on the answer button, seeing Danny’s face pop up, illuminated by the studio parking lot lights as he sat in his car.

“Hi baby!” you grinned watching him smile as he heard your voice.

“Hi to you too, angel.” his crooked smile still made your heart swoon. “I’m on my way home, I’m sorry I’m running a little later than usual. Date night is gonna be a little lame this week.”

“It’s okay, I waited for you for dinner, do you want to pick something up on your way home?” Danny nodded, stretching out in his seat after he placed his phone on the magnetic holder.

“Yeah, do you have anything in mind?” you pursed your lips, and thought on it.

“Ooh, you know what? Pizza sounds really good right now.”

“From that place on 6th street or the one by our house?”

“You know I’m thinking from the place on 6th. Extra mushrooms, extra cheese.” Danny laughed, nodding again.

“Okay, if you call it in I’ll pick it up for us.” you giggled, noting his backward cap and speaking before thinking.

“Aww, and you look like a delivery guy too, with your hat. My own personal pizza delivery boy.” It took a second for it to register with Danny, and then you saw it, a spark of Adonis that flickered in his eyes from time to time.

“Yeah? Will I get a good tip if I make it home in thirty minutes or less?” his voice was low, and he leaned in closer to the phone. You had gotten more bold since being with Danny, working off him to rile him up when he got like this.

“I don’t know, I don’t have very much money,” you feigned a sad, innocent look, batting your eyelashes. “I’m sure we could work something out.” You angled the phone down, showing him the low cut crop top you’d been hanging around the house in, squeezing your arms to your chest so your breasts nearly spilled out the neckline.

“Shit,” Danny sighed. “Order the pizza, now. I’m on my way.” you giggled as you watched him adjust himself with one hand, hanging up with the other and you called in the pizza order. Once that was placed, you jumped up, running to the bedroom where your vanity waited. You took a small reusable makeup removing pad, wiping under your eyes with it making sure any mascara that had ran through your day was washed away.

After reapplying your mascara and running your tube of lip balm over your lips quickly. Running to the bathroom, you flipped on the light, running a brush through your hair and fluffing it up, before running back to the bedroom, grabbing your favorite perfume and spritzing your neck, wrists, the backs of your knees, and your ankles with it. You checked your phone, only ten more minute before Danny would come screeching into the driveway. You quickly shimmied your shorts down, changing out of your regular panties and started digging through your drawer, trying to find that one lacy pair that drove him wild.

Once you’d found them, you slipped them on and pulled your shorts up over them, before scurrying out to the couch, posing to look like you did absolutely nothing since getting off the phone with him. You unpaused your show, but couldn’t pay attention. You kept your ears focused for the sound of Danny pulling into the drive, the lights of every passing car making your heart thump out of your chest with anticipation. You were able to distract yourself, finally starting to pay attention to the show on the television. For how long, you weren’t sure, but just as an argument started riling up, a knock sounded at the front door, startling you.

You furrowed your brow, opening the door to see Danny standing there, pizza box balanced on his open palm. He was still wearing the backward ball cap, and his crooked smile still made your heart flip.

“Hey, I have a delivery for this address?” Danny smirked. Catching on quick, you leaned against the doorframe.

“Oh yeah, I ordered that, about twenty minutes ago.” you replied.

“Awesome, that’ll be $18.75.” Danny replied, holding his other hand out. Biting your bottom lip, you batted your lashes at him as he looked at you expectantly.

“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry,” you pretended to pat yourself down, giving a little shrug. “I don’t have any cash on me.”

“Oh,” Danny let his hand fall, his eyes raking up and down your body.

“You drove all this way, and I’m really hungry…” you began. “Why don’t you come inside, and we can work something out.” Danny’s eyes flickered again and you opened the door, letting him inside. Once the door was closed, you led him into the kitchen, gesturing for him to place the pizza on the counter.

“So, what did you have in mind for payment?” Danny asked, looking around the room. You moved to stand in front of him, placing your hand on his chest, feeling him flex the muscles of his pecs under his shirt. You glanced up at him through your lashes, smirking.

“I was wondering if we could exchange favors?” your voice lowered slightly, a sultry tone exuding as you felt his breath quicken under your hand. “You give me the pizza for free, and I give you the best blowjob you’ve ever had.” Danny’s eyebrow quirked, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“I don’t know, my boss will be pretty pissed if I don’t bring back the cash.” you let your hand travel down his torso, your fingertips resting at the top of his belt buckle, tapping the metal with the tip of your fingernails. You kept eye contact with him as you moved past it, cupping his growing erection through the denim of his jeans.

“Feels like you’d rather stay,” you hummed, leaning in and bumping the tip of his nose with yours, bringing your lips close enough to just graze his, teasing Danny with a kiss you knew he was dying to have after not seeing you all day. Palming him a little rougher, you spoke again as you felt his bulge grow harder in your hand. “I promise the tip will be worth it.”

“O-Okay,” not being sure if it was your Adonis staying in character or that you had really startled him, you smiled, slowly undoing his belt buckle as you finally gave into him and gave him the kiss he was longing for. One of his hands came up behind your head, holding your lips in place as he took his fill of them, waiting until you were at the point of tugging down his jeans and boxer briefs.

When he let you go, you slowly sank to your knees on the kitchen floor, gently taking his long cock in your hand. Leaning forward, you flattened your tongue, giving the underside a long, soft lick before teasing the head with the tip of your tongue, circling around the edge. Giving small kitten licks just under the head, you heard Danny breathe out slowly. You were lucky in the fact that Danny seemed to be a giver in the bedroom, and you knew it was taking a lot for him to let you switch roles.

Torturously working your mouth over him, you tried to take all of him, tears stinging your eyes as you held back a small gagging reflex as he hit the back of your throat. One of Danny’s large hands rested softly on the top of your head, fingers twitching in your hair as you hollowed out your cheeks, the other held his shirt flat against his stomach, making sure the soft cotton didn’t obstruct his view of you. Swallowing around him, you heard him suck in a sharp breath, letting out a quiet moan, his fingers on your head starting to massage your scalp while his hand helped push you forward while you bobbed.

“Shit, that feels good,” he sighed. You felt yourself swell with pride at his praise, letting your tongue trace the vein running along the underside of his cock, flicking the tip just under the head before continuing your motions. Danny’s hand left his stomach, reaching out and grabbing the edge of the kitchen counter next to him, leaning on it to stay upright as his breathing picked up. You used one of your hands to stroke what your mouth couldn’t fully take between deep throated swallows, the other came up to cup his balls, massaging them and feeling them begin to tighten in your palm. You took him in your mouth one more time, down to the base, the tip of your nose being tickled by the curly, coarse hairs on his pelvis.

Danny’s hand left the counter, coming to join the other on your head, holding you in that position for a few seconds before he gently thrust his hips before pulling your head off of him. You looked up at him, mouth open and unashamedly letting a string of spit dangle between your bottom lip and the tip of his cock. Leaning forward, you pressed your wet lips to the tip, giving it a kiss before licking the beading pre-cum from it and licking it off your lips.

His hands fell from your head, one coming under your chin and tugging you up from your knees, so you were standing in front of him. He brought your lips to his, licking across them before finally pressing against yours, his other hand tugging down your cotton shorts and feeling the lace you’d hidden beneath them.

“I have a feeling you were planning this all along.” Danny smirked against your mouth, his thick fingers rubbing against your soaked through panties, making you him. His thumb still rested on your chin, swiping against your bottom lip. “You’re so wet, it would be a shame for me to leave you like this.”

“Please,” you whispered, leaning into his body. Danny smirked down at you before backing up, giving you space and making you feel cold.

“Get on the counter.” Danny commanded, Adonis appearing in his eyes again, needing control. You hesitated for a moment, but jumped up onto the cold granite a shiver running down your spine as your warm skin made contact. Danny sauntered his way over to you, caging you in-between his arms as he sealed your lips with a kiss. “How about I taste that pretty pussy of yours before I really get my money’s worth?”

Your knees rested against Danny’s sides as you nodded and he pushed up your cropped tank top above your breasts, immediately cupping them, swiping his thumbs across your already pebbled nipples. His callused fingertips always applied just the right pressure to make you crave more and more from him, and you were on the verge of begging when he leaned down, taking your left nipple into his mouth. Your head leaned back, knocking into the cabinet and making the dishes inside shake. You let out a soft laugh, and you could feel Danny break against your skin, a chuckle vibrating against you.

He sucked softly on your swollen bud, twirling his tongue around it while his other hand rolled your right one before his thumb and forefinger, pinching softly. Your back arched while tingling shot down between your legs, and you felt yourself getting wetter. Your hips wriggled against the counter as Danny switched his mouths attention to your right breast. The heat between your thighs felt like it was getting hotter and hotter, and you could feel your pussy start to pulse.

Danny let his hands take your waist, holding you steady as his lips moved to the valley between your breasts, slowly kissing down your body. Smirking at how eager you were, already shifting to try and bring your body closer to his face. Danny removed his hands from your waist for a moment, lowering himself and wrapping his arms around your legs, grabbing your hips and balancing you precariously on the edge of the counter.

“Baby, you are positively glistening for me.” he breathed, looking up at you through his lashes. “Makes me think you’ve had this fantasy before.” he pressed soft kisses along your inner thighs, nipping gently at the skin as he got closer.

“Stop teasing, please,” you whined, gripping the edge of the counter as he licked his lips, adjusting your legs over his shoulders.

“As you wish,” Danny delved between your thighs, a moan spilling from you as his mouth expertly lapped against your wet pussy. One of your hands moved to rest on top of his head, the backward baseball cap still there. You raked your nails against the material, the scratch sound music to your ears as the sounds of Danny’s mouth on you echoed in the kitchen. He clasped his lips around your clit, suckling it while running his tongue around it in quick circles.

His name fell from your lips, you didn’t care about the role-play anymore, you just wanted to praise the man for his talents in making you unravel. Danny moved between your sucking and circling your clit and leaving hot, open mouthed kisses against you. One of his hands left your thighs, his thick fingertips tracing along your folds, gently prodding and teasing you as you started clenching around nothing. After letting you whine and rock your hips, grinning into your pussy all the while, he slid in his middle and ring fingers inside you, finally relieving the ache between your thighs.

Danny moved his other hand to your pelvis, holding your body down as you rocked against his hand and face.

“You’re gonna slip off if you keep shimmying like that,” Danny gasped, pulling away from your pussy, looking up at you. From the tip of his nose to the end of his chin, his face was glistening with your juices, a sight that made you feel even more ravenous than before. “Stay still for me.” you nodded, guiding his head back to your clit, moaning again as he took it back in his mouth. He picked up the pace with his tongue, circling your clit and applying just the right pressure as he quickened the pistoning motion with his hand. It was becoming more and more difficult to keep your promise to stay still, and Danny could tell by the shaking in your thighs on his shoulders that you were getting close. You felt the fire in your stomach ignite and spread through your veins as your fingers clawed at the granite below you and the fabric of his hat.

“Fuck!” you gasped, your body tensing as you came, Danny continuing to work you over as you rode out your orgasm, panting and still clawing at him. When your body relaxed, Danny pulled away bringing his hand up to his lips, sucking them clean while staring you down and stepping out of his pants and boxer briefs.

You were slumped against the cabinets, but not for too long, as Danny had slid his arms under you and moved you to the living room. You couldn’t help but lean up and kiss him as he walked carefully, tasting yourself on him and moaning.

“You tasted so good baby,” Danny hummed as he placed your feet on the floor by the arm of the couch. He cupped your face in his large hand, the other holding you up. “Felt so good on my fingers, squeezing so tight.” Danny turned you around, bending you over the arm of the couch. Your face rested on a small couch pillow, and you could feel Danny’s hands rubbing up and down the globes of your ass.

Not being able to help yourself, you wiggled your ass in front of him, making him chuckle.

“Eager, are we?”

“Yes, I need to feel you,” you whined, near-panting already. “Please, fuck me already!” Danny gripped your ass cheeks hard and slapped on, sending a jolt through you as you felt him like himself up behind you, running the tip of his hard cock through your folds, collecting the wetness there. Whimpers were falling from your open mouth as he teased the head in before pulling away, coming back and pushing in again and then pulling completely away. “Dammit Danny!”

As soon as the curse in his name flew out of your mouth, he roughly slid into you, jolting you again and making you cry out. Danny wasted no time in building you up, his thrusts hard and fast, the slapping of your skin echoing throughout the house, almost being drowned out by your moans. You were reaching back behind you, clawing to touch some part of him when one of his large hands gathered both your wrists, tugging your upper body up. The new angle hit your sweet spot, a new fresh string of curses tumbling from your mouth as Danny continued ramming into you, primal grunts spilling from his own.

“Fuck that feels so good Danny,” you gasped, the words stuttering out as your body was jostled by his movements. You couldn’t help but relish the delicious drag of his cock inside you as he pulled out and pushed back in over and over, it was something you’d never forget.

“Yeah baby?” Danny grunted out. “Gonna come all over my cock? Make this delivery worth it?” Leave it to him to still keep up at least a glimmer of the roleplay you had long forgotten.

“Yeah,” you panted, “M-make it so-so worth it!” You could feel the coil in your abdomen tightening again, you face flushing as you came to the edge. Your fingers curled, latching onto whatever they could of Danny’s hand, something to anchor yourself as your second climax crashed over you. Danny let go of your wrists but was quick to wrap his arms around your chest and torso, hands squeezing your tits as he put his lips to your ear.

“There’s my beautiful Angel,” he whispered lowly, between harsh breaths. “That’s my good girl.”

“Your good girl,” you agreed, bringing a hand up and tangling in his curls, finally knocking the hat off his head. “Taking your cock so well,” Danny’s hips began to falter as you talked back, and he squeezed you tight to his body as he spilled into you, pressing kisses along your cheek, neck, and shoulder. You let your head fall back, resting on his own broad shoulder, both of you catching your breath.

“S’pose we should go shower.” Danny whispered after a few moments. Your bodies were tacky from drying sweat and made a noise as he gently peeled away from you.

“Yeah, the pizza is already cold anyway.” you laughed softly. Danny turned you around, grinning at you as he cupped your face, his one arm still holding you up.

“Would you mind if the delivery boy stayed and grabbed a slice? I worked up quite the appetite.”

“Not at all,” you smirked, hopping up on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips. “Consider it your tip.”

♥️♥️♥️

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#danny wagner #danny wagner x reader #danny gvf #greta van fleet #jake kiszka #josh kiszka #sam kiszka #greta van fic #danny wagner smut #danny gvf x reader #danny gvf smut #greta van fleet smut

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hueberryshortcake · 7 months

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[Okay so I got a prompt request for "Because you love me, duh!" and then, in all my genius, deleted it completely by accident. To the person who sent it, my sincerest apologies; here is the response nonetheless. It is probably way longer than these things are supposed to be, but who's complaining?]

⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ:

"Try manipulating him," Louie suggested.

"I'm not going to do that, dude." Huey adjusted the phone where he was holding it above his face in his bed. His arms were getting tired, on top of the usual flu-aches. "Anyway, he's so busy, he'll probably just get mad at me for bothering him."

"No, it's fine. Just tell him you're still feeling pretty awful and want a distraction." That wouldn't be a lie. "Then make your eyes all big and do The Stare."

"Don't do The Stare," Dewey said, shoving his face over Louie's shoulder and twisting around his seatbelt to get onscreen. "The Stare is scary. It'll have the opposite effect."

"It's not always scary," Louie contradicted him. "Huey, show me your eyes."

"I'm not gonna-"

"Make your eyes all big and sad. Do it. Puss in Boots style. You're the one with the biggest, saddest, scariest eyes, and if you don't use your powers you're wasting them."

"Can you guys shut up-"

Dewey leaned further into Louie's personal space. "If you use The Stare he'll probably get freaked and think you're a rabid raccoon that accidentally wandered in and he'll call the exterminator." Webby giggled heartily at this offscreen.

"Knock it off," Huey could hear Donald saying. Dewey and Webby ceased their chortling.

"Tell him you don't want to be alone," Louie said again, "then bat your eyelashes at him. Then say something like, 'Yeah, I get it if you don't want to play with me. It's just something I think Mom would have helped me with, if she were still here with us....'"

"Dude," Huey chided, rolling onto his side and leaning the phone against the wall.

"That should do the trick. He'll be in sitting in front of Legends of Legendquest with a controller in his hands before you can say 'Bless me bagpipes'."

"Louie, I don't think that kinda thing's going to work anymore, now that your mom's back from the moon," Webby said from somewhere in the car. Louie looked up.

"No, Huey, go ahead and try it, baby," Della shouted back from the front seat.

"Both hands on the wheel, Mom," Dewey said.

"Feel free to try any means necessary to get him to help you," Della continued, shouting to be heard from across the car, "because you're not going to get that crate by yourself, and if you don't get it for us before the event ends tonight, I might have to disinherit you."

"Mom!" Huey laughed.

"Eyes on the road, Mom," Louie said at the same time.

So, somehow, Huey found himself in front of his uncle's office door, his scarlet-patched denim quilt wrapped around him, feeling rather cartoonishly like a robed roman senator, if said senator were wearing footed pajamas, had a doozy of an influenza case, and were about to probably get executed on the spot. The exodus to get here had been exhausting; he probably shouldn't have been out of bed, but oh well.

His foot hit a loose floorboard, squeaking violently, and he winced, expecting a sharp "What is it?" to ring out from behind the door, but there was nothing. He lifted his hand to the door and knocked a polite shave-and-a-haircut before he could talk himself out of it.

There was a small dominoing of crashing sounds, followed by some quiet, muffled exclamations that sounded suspiciously like cut-off swear words. Huey took this as invitation enough and cracked the door open, adjusting the blanket where it had fallen off his shoulder. Inside, Scrooge was rearranging the knick-knacks, papers, and glasses he'd knocked over.

"Sorry," Huey said quietly. "Were you asleep?"

"No," Scrooge said, quickly enough that Huey knew he had, in fact, dozed off.

Huey shuffled into the room, blanket dragging on the ground, and helped his uncle scoop assorted pens and highlighters back into a handpainted World's Richest Uncle mug (courtesy of Dewey).

"You should take a break," Huey told him. "You've been working too hard this week."

"I can't stop, the launch is in three days." Scrooge rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand. "I've got to get this polished out before then."

Huey peered at the papers on the desk and pretended he understood what any of it meant. "It looks pretty done to me."

"Well, aye, but-"

"If it's finished, why are you still working on it?" Huey sneezed.

"Because- well- a mean, only a version of it is finished. I'd like to put my best foot forward on this project, which means I've got to comb through and make sure everything's perfect."

"Are you sure you're not doing what I usually do?"

Scrooge eyed him from across the desk. "And what would that be?"

"Getting obsessed over everything being just right to the point that your view of reality is distorted until your obsession is all you can think about?"

Scrooge's gaze would have been sharp were it not for the fatigue of mind and body. "You're getting ahead of yourself, lad. I invented that move. I've been doing it since before you were born."

Huey shrugged.

Scrooge blinked at the disorganization on his desk. He adjusted his glasses. He looked at Huey as though just now seeing him for the first time. "Did you need something from me?"

Huey felt very small wrapped in his big heavy blanket in the middle of his uncle's big, pristine office. He still felt pretty awful. The blanket felt thicker than normal and hard to keep up; it was practically weighted, and in fact Huey suspected that Donald had snuck weighted beads into the lining when he'd made it for him all those years ago. The effect was that the thing was exhausting to move around, and his arms ached, and he felt shaky and was probably a little bit feverish, and his head and chest felt unfathomably swollen, and it was kind of a miracle that he'd made it this far into the conversation without Scrooge getting frustrated about his work being interrupted.

So Huey just managed to squeak out some stuttered declinations.

"Are you sure?" Scrooge pushed away from the desk and in a second was taking a knee in front of Huey. "You look terrible."

"Thanks," Huey muttered. Scrooge put a hand to his forehead. Huey wanted to disappear inside his blanket. When he'd embarked on the journey to the office, he'd been confident in his mission to seek help with Legendquest, but now he was worn out and cowardly and mostly afraid of when Scrooge would ask why he was here and he'd have to admit the humiliatingly silly truth.

"Do you want some Tylenol?" Scrooge asked him.

"I have to wait two more hours at least."

"Water?"

"I'm probably overhydrated by this point."

"Have you eaten?"

"I'm not hungry."

"That wasn't what I asked," Scrooge said, raising an eyebrow, and Huey sighed.

"I had lunch."

Scrooge glanced at his watch. "It's not quite time for dinner- Gods above, how did it get to be four o'clock already?- so we'll get something into you the same time you get your Tylenol. Sound good?"

"Spectacular." Huey might have been swaying a little.

"Why are you up, anyway? You ought to stay in bed. Come on."

Huey was thankful that Scrooge spun around to give him an opportunity to climb on his back, because it meant he didn't have to make eye contact with him. "I was just hoping- well, it was silly, but I was thinking maybe-"

"Spit it out," Scrooge said, not unkindly, as he hoisted his nephew up onto his back and pushed to his feet. Huey wrapped the blanket around his torso and his arms around his uncle's neck.

"Well, I was feeling really gross, and I couldn't sleep because of it, and I was trying to think of things to do to distract myself. And I thought maybe I could play the game that Mom and I always play, Legends of Legendquest? Because there's an event going on...."

Scrooge listened quietly as Huey explained and he carried him down the hall. Huey rested his cheek on the back of his uncle's curly head and rambled. He might have gone off on a tangent. He might have hit all the points on the guidelines to victory that Louie had laid out over the phone. At some point he stopped paying attention to the words coming out of his mouth.

"-and Mom said she might be forced to disinherit me, so."

Scrooge harrumphed at this. He dropped Huey unceremoniously on the couch.

"This isn't my room," Huey said suddenly.

"I'm glad you've noticed," Scrooge said dryly. "I thought it might be too much work for you to climb up and down that bunk of yours, so you can sit in the family room awhile." He eyed the television. "If I were to.... help you with this.... video game," he said the phrase as though it were poison, "well, why would I be doing that?"

Huey burrowed into the couch. "Other than me running the risk of being disowned? Well, uh. Because you love me. Duh."

If he batted his eyelashes a little, he could hardly be blamed for that.

Scrooge studied him awhile. Then he sighed as though the weight of the world were falling on his shoulders and sat on the couch next to Huey.

"Fine. Teach me."

Scrooge was horrible at Legends of Legendquest. Spectacularly, terrifically, awesomely horrible. It was like teaching a toddler; Huey suspected Scrooge had never held a controller in his life. In some ways it was worse than playing with a toddler, because, generally speaking, three-year-olds were much less belligerent. He clearly had a lot of steam to blow off from work.

It got even worse when, fueled by pure spite and rage, Uncle Scrooge started to get the hang of it, and then to get actually good. Within a few short hours, he'd helped Huey get through the dungeon, the booty had been collected, Huey had been fed a quick dinner of macaroni, grapes, and cold medicine, and the boy had fallen asleep on the couch while, far into the night, Scrooge was consumed by the one thing he'd managed to hate without fail for forty years prior.

#ducktales #dt17 #ducktales 2017 #scrooge mcduck #huey duck #ask #my writing #hueberry shortcake

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warmau · 2 years

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☆: pastry chefs/bakers!au taeyong a little bit of a rivals au, but mostly oblivious pining that stretches for way too long like please just tell each other you're in love. also i dont know anything about baking sweets so...ignore any of my mistakes.. tw: worrying about your career lol, drinking

in your first year of culinary school, you realize cooking is a language full of its own rules and century-old traditions.

cooking is like french, or pashto, or russian

but baking - is a completely different dialect

baking exists in the world of cooking, but it sets its own path that you end up falling in love with

and your once dream of becoming an executive chef at some fancy, flashy restaurant turns into a dream of owning your own bakery

a place unique to the skills you start to hone with a vicious passion that leaves most of the other students around you confused

you find out one of your professors has had a decorated career in pastry making and immediately seek him out to take you as an understudy

and that's when you meet lee taeyong

he's got big eyes like molds full of warm chocolate and stands thin in frame under the white uniforms you all wear

in his front pocket is a wrapper from the milk buns they sell down the street

he's not intimidating at all

but when you get closer to him you smell the familiar scent of sugar and you start to understand why he's there too

"im here to talk to the professor about becoming his apprentice."

you say it because the silence between you two is awkward

also - you want to read him

you want to see what his reaction will be, you wonder if he'll snort at you and tell you to back off, he was here first

but all taeyong does is bat his eyes at you like a baby deer caught in the headlights

"oh. me too."

although you both live in the realm of sweets - you and taeyong are on opposite ends of the spectrum in every way possible

for one, you are excitable and energetic and want to get elbow deep into any ingredient, familiar or foreign

taeyong is reserved and usually sleepy during the early morning classes. he observes and takes every step of his routine with caution.

your fundamentals are the same - cookies, cakes, and bars. these are staples to any baker or patisserie's book

but everything else you and taeyong make couldn't be more different

you always lean into the comfort kind of dessert: brownies, puddings and pies. you can make a doughnut fancy - but why should you? the most important part is that it tastes like a place somewhere you know.

but taeyong is a scientist, a designer, and completely out of your loop.

he pushes forward crème brûlée's, strawberry eclairs, and makes meringue's with his eyes closed.

when you put forward your desserts, one always looks like you could get it at a street fair and the other looks like it's only available for a week at some snotty european bistro

you sometimes don't know what in the world he is even making until it's done

and the first time you learn what cream of tartar is - taeyong looks at you with the same innocence he always has painted on his face - "oh, i use this all the time."

you won't lie - in the beginning you were a bit disheartened by the gap between you two

and it would have been easy to think that just because his ingredients were more expensive and sometimes harder to pronounce that he was the more deserving apprentice

but you managed to crush that thought for all your time at school because sure he could do his own thing and you could do yours

and you could both be great at it

"except, what if you like apply for the same job?"

you ruffle through your sparse choices of outfits for graduation. all of them are not as great as you thought they were when you bought them.

"hmmm, you mean me and taeyong?"

your friend who said they'd come over and help you pick is not doing that at all.

instead, she's sitting cross legged on your bed and looking at one the polaroid's on your wall.

she taps a nail on the one that has you, taeyong, and your shared professor on it

you join her and look at taeyongs small face on the photograph

"i mean i doubt it. he's probably going to go work in paris or milan."

"he has the looks for it, that's for sure."

you purse your lips and turn to look at your friend with disappointment but she just deadpans back

"c'mon, all this time together and you've never thought he was hot?"

you shake your head before you can really register an answer

you look at him and he's got his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. his uniform looks like he's ironed it.

you have what might be sugar on yours, and your hair is a bit of a disheveled mess.

"i guess he's cute."

graduation comes and goes in what seems like a blur - you can officially call yourself a baker now, although you think the journey started for you a while back

the last person who want to share a tearful goodbye with aside from some friends and other graduates is your instructor

you head to where you think you'll find him - only to find taeyong waiting outside of his office just like on your first day together

dressed in a pale blue, tailored suit and with that signature lost look on his face he holds a white box in his hands

"is that a cake?"

you ask for the sake of conversation

"dacquoise."

"ah. i made snickerdoodles."

he hesitates as if he wants to say something, but before he can the door opens and your professor smiles fondly at the both of you

but he turns first to taeyong

"congratulations on the job!"

you blink and feel your mouth dry slightly, "y-you already got a job?"

taeyong's ears go red and you can see him clutch a little at the box he's still holding

"yes, i got an invitation to work with the patisserie at the shilla hotel."

unable to control your expression, your eyes go wide

the shilla hotel - the most expensive hotel in the city?

"i called in a recommendation for taeyong as well, im proud to have a student of mine pushing the boundaries already!"

a recommendation.....he didn't offer me a recommendation...

"really, it's not that gr-"

taeyong's voice drowns out and the world starts to feel like it's rapidly shrinking

"are you going to apply for some manager positions at some of the bakery chains around here?"

your professor asks - taking the cake from taeyong's hands and not hurrying to reach for what you've brought along

manager position? is that what all my work is going to come down to?

you force on a smile and shake your head.

you want to be strong and say with confidence - "im going to forge my own way ahead. im going to be the baker i always dreamed i would be."

but the words are lost and suddenly, you're embarrassed

you're embarrassed to be standing beside taeyong.

to be holding these cookies that just don't compare.

it goes over your professors head, but taeyong tenses and you suddenly make up a reason for having to leave

they both say something to you - something that gets lost in the spiraling, sickening feeling of dreaded realization that is gripping you

we were never on the same level. taeyong was always running a mile ahead of me.

you feel too ashamed to go home and call your family like you had planned, and you are feeling too small to go out onto the big city streets of seoul

so you find yourself at the post graduation party the students of your school have thrown

and you find yourself in front of a bottle

you are not a drinker, and you are not really a party person either - unless you get to mingle and watch people try your desserts. but this is the only thing you can think of doing

i thought we were always going to succeed, the both of us. what’s a roll of homemade bread to a world class five star tart - the worst part is

you draw a circle on the rim of your drink

the worst part is taeyong isn’t even being selfish about it. he probably didn’t even think it was a competition.

someone sits at your table, off in the corner and you look up

just as if he’s sprung from your thoughts - it’s taeyong. and he looks uncomfortable to be in a swarm of so many people.

“don’t come here to pity me.”

you say it with conviction and the confidence of a little bit of drinking

he winces, as if it really stings, but you don’t notice and go back to your own thoughts

taeyong swallows and says something you barely hear over all the noise

“i can’t pity someone who inspires me.”

to be frank, you think you imagine the sentiment

but it’s weird because you can’t decide if you did or if he really said that. why would he? you and him learned side by side together for a long time and you’ve never heard something like that before

you finish your drink and get up without a word

taeyong follows and stutters out what he thinks will make you stop from leaving

“i’ll tell the hotel to consider you instead.”

all it does is make you angry, you scoff in response

“you didn’t hear me did you? i said don’t pity me.”

you turn on your heel, rushing toward the door as the world spins slightly in a blur around you

you manage to make it out of whatever bar you were in, until you trip against the uneven curb of the sidewalk and hear something split under the platform of your shoe

you kick up your left foot and see that the bottom is peeling, broken completely off at the edge

“are you kidding me?”

you try to force it back into place, but it doesn’t work and when you nearly tip over from losing your balance - you put your hand out - only to land on the soft fabric of someone’s shoulders

it’s taeyong and he puts an arm out to support you that you try to swat away weakly

all it does is make you wobble into him even more

when you’re stable, he squats down to look at the damage and his fingers are cool on the skin of your ankle

from the outside - you probably look like a couple

the ever doting boyfriend, worried about their partner. there’s an intimacy between you two that you are both oblivious to

until it hits you from the glances of people who walk by and you pull yourself away

“it’s fine. im going to walk home.”

“do you live close by, i’ll help you.”

you purse your lips - “actually i have to take the subway so if you could just move-”

he doesn’t, instead taeyong mutters that his place is luckily just around the corner and he’ll let you borrow something of his to help you get home in

you refuse - vehemently because you are not trying to look even more embarrassing in front of him than you apparently have been looking all this time

but taeyong doesn’t sound or looks as meek as you remember when he points out that your shoe is falling apart and you aren’t going to be safe in this kind of state when it’s already so late into the evening

somehow - you end up in front of taeyong’s apartment - you watch him punch in the code and furrow your eyebrows

“haha” you start dryly “your code is my birthdate.”

the tips of his ears dust pink but you convince yourself it’s just a weird coincidence

taeyong’s place is as neat and as organized as he is, there is a fish tank that grabs your attention and a bookshelf full of cookbooks

“just let me borrow some slippers and i’ll be gone.”

taeyong disappears into another room and comes out with a pair of fuzzy, clean, nearly brand new looking slippers

he puts them down by your feet

“can i tell you something before you go?”

you want to refuse, but you feel so much of your self worth has leaked out of you in front of him today that you just nod

“i’m serious about being inspired by you.”

his voice is calm and collected

“you taught me how to bake the most delicious bread i’ve ever had in my entire life. how am i not supposed to look up to someone like that?”

you blink back an initial wave of shock that nearly gets you sober

“wh-what are you talking about?”

taeyong doesn’t look up at you so you don’t see his small smile

“two months after we started our apprenticeship - i told you i’d never made bread from scratch before.”

you can sort of remember the time he’s talking about, but the memory isn’t super clear in your mind

for most of your time with taeyong, you always thought you were kind of in a secret race, small moments that he’s talking about seemed to have flown over your head

“instead of just letting me do it myself - you taught me, step by step how to do it. i’d never seen someone do something so easily, like you were born for it. i know it sounds childish to say this but watching you do it felt like watching a movie.”

you can tell taeyong isn’t used to this long of a dialogue and that he’s taking time to choose his words

“i didn’t think anyone could love baking as much as i did - but i felt in that moment that i met my match in you.”

you stand up, far to quickly than you should, and taeyong has to leap up to catch you from stumbling forward

this time you don’t try to pull back right away

you look at him - those big brown eyes that always seemed aloof and far off are concerned and seeping into your own

“is that wh-is that why the code to your door is-”

taeyong’s face turns nearly crimson

“yes, because the day after that day was your birthday and when i asked you how to repay you for the lesson you said-”

“-just make me something sweet for my birthday tomorrow.”

something in the room shifts.

you don’t know what it is, but it’s like the quickening of a pulse

you lean forward, but taeyong stops you gently

“i’m scared you won’t remember if you do that right now.”

you agree, and let taeyong help you sit down.

“i don’t want to be a manager.” you hiccup suddenly and taeyong takes in a breath “i want to own my own store. i want to be my own boss. but taeyong, i don’t think i can do it.”

there’s silence and the weight of adulthood and responsibility weaves itself onto both your shoulders

“i know you can do it. and i want to help if you’d let me.”

the sincerity is almost heart wrenching. you’ve waited to hear those words from everyone, you’ve wanted them from the people you thought should be saying them.

but hearing them from someone who really believes in you - hits in a whole different way.

at some point you put your head on taeyong’s shoulder. the night is spent talking about all the things you haven’t been able to share

even though you spent so much time elbow to elbow in the kitchen

when your eyes close, you feel safe with taeyong and he doesn’t do anything to betray this newly formed bond between you

the morning sun through the blinds hurts your head a little.

you sit up in the white, clean sheets of taeyong’s bed

you’re still wearing all your clothes and your shoes and the pair of slippers he brought out for you are on the side of the bed

when you shuffle into the living room, taeyong is sprawled out on the couch asleep

you try to be quiet as you sit down in front of him on the carpet, studying the architecture of his face

“wake up...” you mumble, but he doesn’t seem to hear

you trace the strong, but somehow inviting lines and says it again a little louder

taeyong shifts in his sleep and his shirt rides up his flat stomach

“there’s something i want to do taeyong, please wake up.”

after a moment of stirring, his eyelashes flutter open and he gets caught between a flustered blush and a smile of happiness that you’re still here

“good mo-”

“can i kiss you now?”

it’s soft, quick, and sweet. somehow taeyong even tastes like sugar. he’s wide awake when you pull back.

“don’t you have a job to get to you?”

you say to break him out of his trance, he fumbles up and off the couch as you follow too

but then he stops in his tracks

“i - i really meant it last night too, that i’d give my recommendation up if you want it ins-”

you put a finger to his lips and taeyong gets the message

“i’ve decided i am going to work toward my goal and you work toward yours. after all, you said i inspire you and taeyong you inspire me too.”

he looks like he’s biting back giddiness

this time you two kiss for real, and you nearly drive taeyong up onto a wall which he’d gladly let you continue doing if it weren’t for the alarm that goes off on his phone that breaks you two apart

you hurry him along and say you’ll make coffee before he has to go

when you open the cabinet, there are two mugs with little cat faces on them

when you pull them out you think,

i’ve learned the language of baking - but now i think i have to learn the language of lee taeyong.

#this is so dramatic for no reason why didnt i just write some corny shit about baking cupcakes together #taeyong au #taeyong scenarios #sfw #nct scenarios #nct au #nct 127 au #nct 127 scenarios #nct imagines #nct 127 imagines #taeyong imagines #drinking/

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bookstantrash · 3 years

Text

A baby bat just got inside my house. We managed to get him out but of course I stopped to take pictures once we locked him inside our tv room so he’d not keep on flying around madly.

Meet Nyx. It was a short visit but it was nice having you here

#baby bat #he was so tiny but flew so fast wtf #I was like #‘it’s feysand date night and they left Nyx with Azriel to babysit him’#Nessian would be on their honeymoon so they couldn’t take care of him #the photos are shitty because I took them from OUTSIDE the tv room #and the baby bat was on the opposite wall so I had to use the zoom

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fruitcoops · 3 years

Note

Hi I first sent this ask a while ago but it was about how I always see fics with Remus first joining as a player and was wondering if you could write one with Remus FIRST FIRST joining as a PT? I dont want to bother you though!

Of course! I love some baby Loops content <3 SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for minor injury

Remus was sure he was going to buzz right out of his skin. Or puke. Maybe both. Whatever it was, at least it would make an impression.

Not a good one, mind you. Just one that would make him unforgettable.

“Oh, god,” he muttered, clutching the sides of his binder as he turned down yet another linoleum hallway. The rink was too big; he was lost on his first day, his first hour, and he would be the laughingstock of the team for the rest of his—

“Hey!” Remus froze, then slowly turned.

A mixture of fear and relief flooded through him so fast he almost blacked out. “Mr. Moody, I’m so sorry I’m late—”

Moody waved him off. “Lost?”

“Well, not really. I mean, sort of, but not lost lost—”

“Kid.” Remus shut his mouth. His backpack suddenly weighed as much as an elephant. Moody gave him a once-over before clapping a broad hand on his shoulder and guiding him in the opposite direction, down a side hall with a shiny black sign labeled ‘Physical Therapy Offices’ and a little arrow. Dumbass. You walked right past it.

“I really am sorry about being late,” he tried again, nearly tripping over a ‘Wet Floor’ sign.

“Don’t sweat it. Happens to everyone.” Moody stopped short and gestured to two doors on either side of the hall. “My office, your office. Locker room is down there and to the right if one of those sweaty bastards breaks another bone. Oh, and Lupin?”

Remus’ throat seized for a moment. “Yes?”

“Don’t fuck with their superstitions.” His tone had new weight to it, and his eyes were shadowed with some far-off memory. Remus didn’t want to know what happened to the last person that broke the rule. The strange quiet lifted after another two seconds and Moody patted his back with the approximation of a smile. “Welcome to the Lions.”

Without another word, he marched into his office and shut the door with a decisive click. “Okay,” Remus murmured to himself. “Alright. You’re here, this is your office, you can do this. No big deal. It’s just your first real job.”

The pale wood of the door watched him, silent as the grave. Remus took a deep breath through his nose and carefully pushed it open.

It was certainly an office. Quite a normal one, actually, though Remus didn’t know what else he had expected. Clean and tidy, with an empty desk to one side and an examination table on the other. Whiteboards decorated a couple of the walls—all blank, of course—and the floor was the same linoleum as the rest of the rink. “Huh,” he said aloud. “Right, then.”

Remus set his binder and backpack on the desk and turned in a slow circle, soaking it in. It even smelled fresh, but the scent of bleach and lemon cleaning solution made him wrinkle his nose. I might need a candle. Hell, just some Febreeze would do.

He crossed the room and shut the heavy door with the same satisfying click as Moody’s, then immediately whipped around and pumped both fists in the air with a silent whoop of joy. “My office,” he whispered giddily. “My office, as the Lions PT, oh hell yes.”

The door flew open.

“What the fuck?” he blurted, spinning on his heel and only barely stifling a shriek.

The shorter man cocked his head in confusion. “You’re not Moody.”

“Remus Lupin, the new PT.”

“James Potter, winger.”

“Ow,” his friend groaned, still holding one hand over his eye.

Remus’ heart skipped a beat. “Oh my god, Sirius Black.”

Sirius grimaced and gestured in a vague wave. “Bonjour. I’m going blind.”

“You’re so fucking dramatic,” James sighed, sitting him down on the exam table with a roll of his eyes. “Loops, it really isn’t that bad.”

“…Loops?”

“Lupin, Loops, you get it. Can you please soothe the baby?”

Sirius glared at him through his good eye. “You little—”

“Tilt your head back,” Remus ordered as soon as he recovered from the shock of having a hockey nickname. His team had called him Moony, but Loops…he had to admit it had a nice ring to it. The idea of having a team nickname at all sent a thrill through every nerve as he pulled Sirius’ hand away and looked into his eye.

Pretty, was his first thought. The intensity of Sirius’ gaze on the ice had always amazed him, even through a TV screen—it was nothing compared to the real thing. Silver shot through clear blue-gray like filigree; it was bright as a star despite the redness. “Am I dying?” Sirius asked drily. “Cause you’re just a blur right now.”

“You’re not dying,” Remus assured him. “You might need eyedrops, though. What happened?”

“Pots is an asshole.”

James heaved another sigh. “Getting hit in the eye with a waterbottle lid I may or may not have loosened does not make me an asshole.”

“Yes, it does.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Yes, it does.”

“No, it doesn’t—”

“Shut up, both of you.” A flash of fear slipped up Remus’ spine. I just told two of my heroes to shut up. Forget Sirius, I’m going to die. The room fell silent.

“Oh, I like him,” James said with a grin.

“You’re good to go,” Remus said after a moment longer. “I don’t have anything set up right now, so you should check with Moody and ask for those eyedrops.”

“Merci,” Sirius said as he stood and stretched, batting James’ hands away as they headed back out into the hall. “Don’t touch me, you cretin!”

“Oh, look at me, I use fancy French words,” James mimicked in a high voice.

“It’s not French, dumbass.”

Their bickering continued even after the heavy door closed, leaving Remus alone once again. His pulse raced. An hour into his first day of work, and he had already helped the team. Hell, he had helped The Sirius Black. “This is fucking insane,” he said aloud. “And it’s my job.”

He opened his binder and quickly flipped to the roster. They had some new faces this year and it seemed like half of them had lingering injuries he needed to memorize. Remus would have to know more than just their faces and medical history to make a difference, but he would get there eventually. Maybe it would take a while for them to warm up to him—maybe he would remain Moody’s minion for the rest of his tenure. He would never be part of the team, not really, but looking at that roster…

Well, he could almost believe he was one of them.

#remus lupin #alastor moody #james potter #sirius black #sweater weather #lumosinlove #loops #my fic #fanfic #first day

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diamond-coral · 3 years

Text

The Heist (part 3/finale)

Steve x Reader

Chapter summary: Captain’s plan worked. Now you’re in for a lot of trouble after trying to break into his apartment. He’ll have you. Just like he wanted.

Warnings: 18+, explicit sex, dark, rape/non-con, forced orgasm, praise and degradation kink, kidnapping, mentions of strip club, mentioned anal, swearing, mild violence, slight Stockholm

“You wanna be treated like a whore?” he seethed. “Fine. I’ll treat you like a whore.”

Steve wrenched you from the wall and let you fly back toward his bed, your feet tripping over themselves as well as the chain attached to the cuff secured around your ankle before you finally tumbled onto the mattress. Your breathing was heavy as you glared back at his cerulean eyes which were narrowed, daring you to try anything.

And you did. Because fuck if you weren’t going down without a fight.

You darted out to the right, arm reaching out to take grip of the lamp on his nightstand. You grabbed hold of it and pivoted your body around as your arm flung out toward his head. Steve simply intercepted the hit with a firm grasp, and you gritted your teeth as the two of you began an aggressive tug of war for the lamp.

“Stop. This. Now,” Steve scolded as if you were a child before giving a sharp tug, the lamp slipping out of your hand.

“No thanks.” You grinned, catching him off guard, before you grabbed both his shoulders as support and kneed him in the groin. Hard.

Steve let out a pained groan. He dropped the lamp, and you caught it by the handle before using all your strength to swing the base against his head like a baseball bat. He stumbled backwards while his hand reached up near his temple. He pulled it back and inspected the blood. You remained frozen, having hoped that the blow would have at least knocked him out. His broad figure compromised your escape route to the door of his bedroom, so running was not an option.

“We need to fix this fuckin’ attitude of yours,” he grumbled, and while you were lost in your predicament of all escape routes being impossible, he snatched the lamp, this time breaking it in half like a toothpick before tossing both ends over his shoulder to the opposite side of the room. “I wanted a kind and docile housewife. Not some ungrateful bitch.”

He practically pounced on you, and you fought, pushing against his brick wall of body, before relenting with the knowledge he was far too strong for you.

“Well you’ve got the wrong person, buddy-pal,” you quipped, but your voice trembled in your compromised position..

“No. I don’t. Because I’ve already seen her, you, at the club. And I don’t know why the hell you gotta give me some attitude when I’m trying to save you from the shitshow of a life you’re livin’. Maybe you’re just scared. Scared of letting someone take care of you when you’ve been fighting for yourself for so long, so you put on the unappreciative bitchy exterior.”

Was this man serious? How delusional did he have to be to think all of that after one encounter?

“Well guess what,” he whispered, face so close to you that his breath fanned over you. “I’ll fucking rip it apart. I’ll break you down. Shatter this pathetic wall you have up until I get back the girl at the club. Might take a couple good fuckings, but I’ll finally get it out of you.” His thumb stroked your cheek, brushing away the tears that had shed at his admissions. “Aww, baby, don’t cry,” he cooed. “This is for the best.”

You let out a small whimper, another round of tears flowing, at the sound of his belt unbuckling and fly coming undone.

You began pounding against his chest and begged him not to.

You wouldn’t go down without a fight.

Easily holding you down, Steve let out a stuttered moan as he entered you slowly. You begging turned into sounds of agony as he stretched you out and filled you like no other had before.

“I wanted our first time time to be special. Slow and loving,” he confessed as he stilled inside of you. He slowly pulled out before slamming his hips back in and muffling your shriek with a large hand. “Gotta say, this is still pretty special though. Might just love those big watery doe eyes lookin’ at me a little more than that cute smile of yours. You just look so pretty, all wrecked and crying for me, doll.” He moved his hand slightly aside to lick a strip of your tear stained cheek, letting out a hum of approval.

You thrashed under him, hands lashing out until one of his own came to wrangle both wrists above your head, so you resorted to bucking your hips in hopes of throwing him off. It was hopeless.

But you wouldn’t go down without a fight.

The hand covering your mouth moved down to hold you hip down in a bruising grip. He just rutted into you harder and faster in response to your outburst.

You couldn’t bring yourself to make a noise. The searing of your walls was slowly melting into pleasure. You feared accidentally letting a moan slip and alerting Steve to your pleasure.

But Steve could tell how you enjoyed it. Although tears flowed freely from your eyes, your pussy squelched, the sound blending in with the clapping of skin each time he drove into you.

“Told you. I’d fuck you. Like a whore,” He managed to get out between thrusts. “And you fuckin’ love it too.” He let out a dark chuckle. “God you’re such a slut.”

You whined as he pulled out when he flipped you over, but he made up for it by beginning to drill into you harder than before. With every brutal thrust, his cock glided against your g-spot before the tip punched against your cervix, and your eyes rolled back into your head.

Steve roped your hair around his palm and yanked your head back. Your back arched painfully to accommodate.

“Tell me you’re a slut. Tell me your my slut. Only mine. Only for me. Not that stupid fuckin’ club. Mine.”

“N-no. No,” you stuttered, barely being able to form words. You wouldn’t let him have his victory. You wouldn’t give it to him and bend to him.

Because you wouldn’t go down without a fight.

He once again yanked your hair, this time using the momentum to bring your body flush against him. His other arm came to wrap around your waist, and he secured your back to him, never once letting up on fucking you. The new angle made your body light on fire, and a moan escaped past your lips.

“Say it. Say you’re my slut and I’ll let you cum.”

You wouldn’t. You still had some dignity left. You’d be strong. You’d-

“Oh fuck, I’m your slut. Please let me cum. Please, please, I need it so bad. I’m your fucking slut! Only yours Steve!” you cry out. Humility and pleasure both burned your body.

“Atta girl,” he grunted, quickening his pace. “Cum now. Cum all over my cock.”

You did just that. Your cunt clenched around his cock while you gushed around him. Pleasure constricted around your entire body like fire.

“Good little whore. All mine,” Steve chanted, but you barely heard him. All you could think about was Steve and his cock. You shattered. Your mind, your body, your will, all shattered to a million pieces.

________________________________________________________________

You sigh, smoothing down the flowy pink skirt that stopped right about your knees. That was all six months ago but it felt like years. Steve made good on his word. Here you were, the good little docile housewife, waiting for him to return home from a mission that had taken him three days, a home cooked meal sitting on the table. Waiting to be devoured by the ravenous man who would return. Just like you.

You didn’t even attempt to escape this time. The first time you had managed to shatter the living room window with a lamp (ironic, huh?) while Steve was in the bathroom. You had made it down the fire escape before he intercepted you in the alley and dragged you quietly back to the apartment with a gun concealed between your bodies. When you got inside, Steve brutally took your virgin asshole. The second time, you tried the same thing, but Steve caught you before you even stepped foot out the window. After replacing the glass with a new bulletproof material from S.H.I.E.L.D., he starved you for five days, only allowing you water. He still made you cook for him though. It was a cruel joke to him, watching you make him a meal while your stomach was about to eat itself. He’d fuck you hard after, and your body felt like it’d break in half.

The third time was three months after that. You’d managed to gain his trust enough to let him take you for a walk in the park, and after a knee to the groin, you took off and hid yourself in a crowd of people. It wouldn’t be a good image for Captain America to be hunting down an innocent girl on the streets of New York. You managed to be away from him for almost 24 hours, but you couldn’t go to the police. After telling them you were a stripper that broke into Captain America’s apartment, you highly doubt they’d believe the rest of your story.

You were in the grocery store with some stolen cash when Bucky Barnes finally caught you. He muttered a couple words about how pretty Bella was and how he’d hate to put a bullet through her pretty head, and you followed him like a dog back to Steve’s building. Steve, as a thank you to Bucky and a punishment for you, let Bucky fuck you for hours till you passed out with his metal hand around your neck.

You smile to yourself, hoping Steve would be happy that you remained compliant and would be there to greet him as he returned home.

The sound of a lock turning snaps you out of your thought, and your head turns to the door as Steve enters.

“Sweetheart!” you say as you throw yourself on him, hands intertwined behind his neck.

“Hi honey,” he greets, smiling down at you, taking in the sight before he leans down to give you a peck on your painted red lips. You almost frown at your eagerness to return it. Almost. But your interest is directed toward Steve as he reaches into a paper shopping bag. “Got you a little something. Know how much you love to paint.”

He pulls out a set of brushes, showing them to you, before handing you the entire bag. You look inside and gasp. So many colors and canvases. This was your life before he had trapped you, and here he was, giving you a piece of it back.

“Steve, I don’t even know how to thank you,” you begin. “I-”

Steve cuts you off with a deep kiss.

“Anything for my girl. Besides I figured you could use some practice.”

“For what?” you ask.

“Well, I bought us a house!” he announces, grinning. “That implant of yours will be wearing off in a couple months, and I’d love for you to paint a mural in the nursery. For our baby.”

#dark!steve x reader #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #dark!steve

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wanda-maxipad1989 · 3 years

Note

hiii i loved that fic you wrote for wanda and the reader! i think incorporating wanda's glowy powers would be cool, maybe if she was able to get her girl off while standing far away and really dominating her like that

Pairing: MCU Wanda Maximoff/Scarlet Witch & Female Reader

Summary: Wanda gets a little sick of you not paying her the attention she deserves and decides now is the time to bust out her powers.

Warnings: 18+, smut, fingering, oral sex, use of sex toys, BDSM

A/N: Sorry I took FOREVER to write this I just had to keep re-writing it, this is the draft I hated the least so hopefully you enjoy it. Also "All Work and No Play" has over 100 notes which probably isn't a lot to most of you but I appreciate it so much since it's my first time writing in so long.

You absolutely had it coming tonight. Date night, fancy restaurant, Wanda arriving home from work with flowers before bringing you out. All of that and yet you were still sat at dinner quietly, absent-mindedly pushing your food around your plate, only half listening to the girl in front of you.

You should've known that Wanda was never going to stand for you being quiet like this on your first date night in weeks

The starters had come and gone, and you were just finishing up your main courses when you felt something light graze up your neck and around your ear. Startled, you jolted around to see where it came from, but seeing no one near you, you assumed it had been your hair and turned back around, still not paying enough attention to the girl in front of you to notice the shit-eating grin on her face.

If you were unsure of who was touching you, you were about to know exactly who it was.

The feather-like touch that had grazed you before had now moved to the back of your legs, slowly applying more pressure as they rose upwards until all of sudden, it didn't feel much like a feather anymore. No, it was definitely a hand.

Wanda sat back in her chair, crossing her arms as you looked up from your meal, putting two and two together about the source of the phantom touch. As the hands you were feeling slowly gripped your ass, before one of them sneaked around to the front, dragging nails on the inside of your thigh, you sat forward, now paying her the attention she wanted.

"I thought we said we'd wait and see about you using your powers, I still don't know if I want to", you said sternly, although you couldn't deny that it did feel good to have her touch you, it always did.

"Actually, you said we should wait, I don't remember agreeing", she smirked, knowing that you were enjoying it at least a little bit. Who did you think you were, lying to a telepath.

"Wanda, we're in public, even if I wanted to we can't", you retorted.

"If you wanted to? I don't even need to read your mind to see how turned on you are, sweetheart."

It was with that remark that you became conscious of how heaby your breathing had gotten as the ghostly hand on your thigh had switched from scratching your sensitive skin, to lightly grazing its fingertips along you. You were also starting to regret wearing such a low cut dress, because without even looking you could feel the heat in your chest and you knew it would be bright red, making your arousal clear. Even if you had chastised Wanda for acting like this in public, the idea of her taking you right there in front of everyone as they were none the wiser had definitely turned you on.

You stopped your thoughts in their tracks, knowing exactly who would be listening to them.

"Fine", you huffed, "you can use your powers on me all you want tonight, but can we please just hurry up and leave".

She smirked wide enough that even the Cheshire Cat would be envious, but you would never be so lucky as to just get what you want right off the bat.

"Oh, baby, you know I'd love to take you home right now."

You knew there was a "but" coming that was going to make your night pure torture.

"But"- there it was- "we ordered dessert at the start of the night because you just couldn't keep your eyes off that brownie you saw the girl at the next table with. Since you wanted it so badly we can't leave, kitten, it wouldn't be fair."

Damn you and your stupid brownie.

The subsequent hour of eating and waiting for the bill could've been a lot easier if it weren't for Wanda wanting to find out just how turned on she could get you from the opposite side the of table. Her seemingly normal conversations about art, music and politics were only made to make it seem to others like you were a normal couple, completely masking all the times you nearly choked as she would dip a single finger inside of you, without ever moving a muscle.

The small moans that did manage to escape were explained away to those beside you as your dessert being particularly good, making the brownie a very popular choice for the tables around you.

Despite your little "When Harry Met Sally" moments, you eventually got her out of the restaurant and home without any major incidents, but she was certainly testing you, edging and teasing you the whole way home while never taking her eyes off the road. She had playfully threatened to use her powers on your before and you were really starting to wish you had let it happen sooner, maybe ignoring her and being a brat was actually the way to go.

Whatever calm facade she had put on in the car was gone as soon as you crossed the threshold of your house, as she chased you up the stairs to your bedroom, catching you in the hallway just outside it and pushing you against the wall, her eyes glowing red in a way you had only ever seen when she was angry. She kissed you hard before quickly moving to work on your neck, biting down on the skin, making you hiss. Your reaction only seemed to spur her on further, as she started sucking on the sensitive flesh, claiming you with the marks she was leaving behind.

Had your eyes been open you probably would've noticed the red glow coming from her fingers, before feeling an unfamiliar buzzing sensation in your underwear, making you shriek from the surprise and the pleasure.

"What, you don't like it, princess?", she teases, grinning into your neck as she continues her assault on it, her hands holding you tightly in place, just how she wants you.

The moan you gave in response clearly wasn't a good enough response, as the hand that had been holding your jaw moved to your neck, squeezing tightly as she pulled back from you, eyes still glowing a bright crimson colour.

"Answer me, sweetheart", she said sternly, tilting her head and squinting at you in a way that made your stomach turn.

Wanda had always been the more dominant one in your relationship, but tonight was different, she was cocky and arrogant and you loved every second of it.

"I love it, baby, p-please don't stop", you begged.

"Is this what I have to do to get your attention, are you that much of a little slut? I take you out for dinner, get you flowers and dress up for you and yet it takes me fucking you under the table to get your attention? If that's what it takes then I'll fuck you until you can't walk,", she growled deeply into your ear and all of a sudden you knew you were really in for it tonight, "but I don't think you deserve to actually feel me, baby, so I'm going to have some real fun with you tonight"

Dragging you into your bedroom, she forced you down onto the bed, hovering over you and kissing you while the vibrations continued, getting stronger with each passing minute, making your moans dirtier and louder as she upped the pace. What you couldn't see was her hands summoning what she needed to punish you for the night.

Just as you could feel yourself getting close to your release, she felt it too, stopping the vibrations over your clit, before standing up, pulling you upwards with her to strip you down. She stared right at your naked form while she stripped herself in front of you.

Sick of her just gawking a you, you sat forward and began kissing her stomach and tracing your fingers along her sides and thighs, looking up at her for approval, only to be met with a smirk and her hand in your hair, before she grasped it tightly in her fist, making your gasp again.

"Don't try and be good for me now, baby girl, it's far too late for that", she snarled, getting right in your face, only to push you back onto the bed and rolling you so you were lying on your stomach, almost instinctively smacking your ass as soon as she saw it.

You felt her straddle you as she leaned down and lifted your face off the duvet, wrapping a ball gag around the front of your mouth and tying it tightly behind your head

Moving down your body, she tied your wrists together with hand cuffs, and then did the same to your ankles, looping the cuffs on your feet around those on your wrists to hold your legs and arms in the air behind you. She grabbed the intersection of the cuffs and lifted you by it surprisingly easily, turning you to face the chair in the corner of the bedroom.

You whined against your gag as you saw her walk away towards the chair, swaying her hips as she went, just rubbing it in further that you couldn't touch her, but she clearly felt even more confident than usual.

She lay across the chair so her legs draped over the arm rest, her eyes no longer glowing as she had composed herself again, knowing exactly what she had planned for you.

"Ready, sweetheart?", she said with a smirk, knowing full well you couldn't answer.

You immediately felt a finger dipping inside you and the buzzing you had felt earlier resuming, making you struggle fruitlessly against your restraints, before you felt a second finger enter you roughly. Her pace was relentless inside you, curling the phantom digits just enough to hit your sweet spot every time, making sure you groaned into your gag.

"Look at me, princess", she said softly, as if she wasn't ruining you from across the room. Her hand began to sneak down between her legs as she watched you struggle and heard the filthy sounds she was forcing out of you.

The sight of her only made the feeling more intense, as she stared deep into your eyes with a grin before you felt a third finger enter you. After all the edging you tried to keep quiet, hoping to hide how close you were to cumming as she upped the speed of the vibrations on your clit even further.

Just as you reached the edge, you felt all the sensations stop, making you groan loudly at the feeling of being empty.

"Oh, baby, you don't think I can feel what my fingers are doing? Don't you realise I can feel you getting tighter and wetter for me? You think I wouldn't notice you cumming all over my fingers just because I'm not physically doing it? Even if your thoughts weren't so loud I'd know exactly what you were doing, princess."

She continued touching herself as you felt something new trying to enter you. You knew the feeling as soon as it dipped inside of you, unsure whether you were actually feeling her strap on, or if she had just created it with her powers. You didn't have time to think about it before you felt its full length being forced inside of you, stretching you further even than her fingers had. The feeling on your clit too had been replaced, what was once a vibrating sensation was now the softness of Wanda's tongue, licking small circles on your nerves and sucking it gently between her lips.

You wanted to close your eyes and just feel everything she was giving you, but the sight before you was just too good too miss, Wanda's head now thrown back over the arm of the chair, panting aggressively as her eyes started to glow again.

She picked up the pace of her tongue and the strap on, making you drool onto the ball gag as you got close again, so desperately needing to let go for her. Knowing how much she was enjoying the show, you rocked your hips back onto the strap on as much as you could, and let every moan come out onto the gag, getting louder with every thrust.

"Come on, princess, c-come for me. Come for mommy", she demanded.

Her commands sent you over the edge, forcing your body to convulse in front of her as you shrieked louder into the gag than you thought possible, coating her strap with your cum as it forced itself deep and hard into you, while her tongue suckled desperately at your clit.

She continued long as you had come down, forcing you into another orgasm, despite your protests and trying to wiggle out of your restraints, while she kept touching herself, not allowing herself to cum until she was satisifed with her work.

As your body slumped down hard against the bed, legs and wrists still bound, you looked up through hooded eyes to see Wanda desperate to cum, sweat dripping down her soft skin and her red hair sticking to her forehead as she let out deep, throaty moans. You groaned to get her attention, wanting to badly to be the one that got her off.

"You wanna help mommy cum, baby?", she asked breathlessly.

You nodded enthusiastically, as she stood up and came towards the bed. Too happy with how helpless you were, she decided to leave you all tied up for her as she removed the gag on your mouth, before lifting one leg onto the bed so you could place your head between her legs easily.

Feeling how desperate and swollen her pussy was, you wrapped your lips around her clit quickly as you felt her hand go to your hair, holding your head close to her.

"That's it, sweetheart, such a good little mouth for mommy. Just a little more, baby, make mommy cum nice and hard for you."

You knew she was the one in control, but the desperation in her voice, hearing her nearly beg made you need to feel her cumming even more. You quickened the movements of your tongue, drawing circles on her clit in the way you knew would make her head spin, sucking it between your lips harshly, forcing a scream out of her mouth.

Her grip on your hair tightened as she spewed praises for you, cumming with one final scream, throbbing between your lips as she threw her head back, panting as she felt you kiss her clit softly as she came down, stroking the side of your face as she felt you tasting her cum.

"Good girl, you're my good girl. You made mommy so proud, sweetheart."

You smiled as you looked back up at her, wriggling against your cuffs so she would get the hint, which she did immeditately, leaning down over you to unlock them. She moved your exhausted body up the bed towards the pillows, pulling the lotion from the other side of the room while sitting on the bed beside you.

Wanda smiled down at you as you rolled onto your back, kissing your lips softly as she took your hands and started rubbing lotion into your wrists to soothe them, kissing your hands as she went. She admired the marks on your neck and collarbones as she massaged your wrists, watching you fall asleep quickly after the night's activities.

It was then that she silently hoped you never behaved again.

#marvel #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #fanfiction #fanfic #wlw smut #marvel smut #smut

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yikesharringrove · 3 years

Text

Egg the Cat

Chapter 1

Read on Ao3

“Egg! Dinner!”

Steve shook the container of dry food. The sound usually had Egg sprinting into him, yelling loudly through the house for her food.

But she wasn’t coming.

“Eggy!” He shook it again, heading out of the kitchen to see if maybe she couldn’t quite hear it.

But still, no screeching, no pattering of little paws.

“ Egg! ” He was beginning to feel, not good.

She always came. Usually didn’t even let Steve out of her sight.

He put down the container, racing up the stairs.

He tore apart his bed, hoping to find big eyes staring at him, hoping to hear disgruntled mewing.

“Egg, where are you girl?”

Billy kicked at a rock on the side of the road.

The sun was beginning to set as he meandered down the main street, looking at the pitiful downtown.

They had arrived a few days ago, spending all that time unpacking the moving truck, setting up their little house.

Fuck Hawkins.

He hated being landlocked.

Hated being stuck in a shitty town.

Hated that three days in, three days, and his dad has already taken his keys, has already slammed him against several of the walls in that house, has already kicked him out for the evening.

He kicked the rock as hard as he could down an alleyway.

He was met with a fucking scream.

“Uh, hello?” It sounded like, like a kid was down there.

He was cautious, squinting into the shadowed alley.

There was another shriek, and then yellow eyes peering at him.

“ Oh .”

It was a cat, a tiny little black cat.

It yelled again.

“Loud baby, aren’t ya.” He crouched down, let the cat sniff around him. It had a collar on, and Billy got a look at the name. Egg Harrington.

“Okay, who names a fucking cat Egg .” The cat looked at him. Meowing softly.

He scooped it up, setting back down main street.

“Egg!”

Steve didn’t give a fuck anymore.

He had his head sticking out his driver’s side window, driving slowly through town with his headlights as bright as possible, yelling her name.

He was far beyond panicked, he had settled nicely in losing his shit.

He needed to find her, needed to find her before someone else-some thing else- found her.

He pulled over abruptly, parking his car. His baseball bat was tucked in his backpack as he set off on foot, armed with two flashlights and lots of batteries.

The sun had set, and Steve was out here, looking for a black cat in the dark.

“Egg! Please just come here. Come home with me, Honey, come on!”

He looked down each alleyway, shouting his head off like a fucking lunatic.

But he had to find her.

He had called Nancy to help him look, nearly in tears over the phone, begging for her to come out with him, only to be met with a flimsy excuse of watching her sister after dinner.

He couldn’t really fault her, as he had to get out and search for his girl.

He slumped against the diner wall, itching for a cigarette. But he had promised Nancy he’d quit, hadn’t had one in months. He settled for coffee, pushing his way into the diner.

The waitress smiled brightly at him. Her name was Sylvia. She’d worked here since Steve was a kid.

“Just you, Hun?”

“Yeah, Sylvia. Thanks.” She led him to a booth, tucked back in the corner.

“Weird to see you here before midnight. You gonna actually get some food tonight?” The all-night diner had been Steve’s go to sanctuary for coffee after a particularly shitty nightmare.

Which meant he was in there a few times a week.

“Probably not. I’m just out looking for-”

His heart fucking stopped.

He heard her.

He heard his Egg.

Her yells were unmistakable, and he whipped around, saw her wriggling and writhing in some guy’s arms. She was looking right at Steve with those big yellow eyes, pupils wide and round.

Steve didn’t even register himself moving, just slid his arms around Egg, and held her close to his chest, burying his face in her fur.

She purred loudly, relaxing immediately against him.

“I take it you’re the fucker that named him Egg .”

Steve blinked slowly, finally registering who he had stolen his cat back from.

“Named her Egg.” The guy just raised one sharp eyebrow.

Yeah, Steve has never seen this guy in his life.

He’d remember if he had.

“Still a dumb name.”

“I was a kid, okay?” The guy just studied him for a bit, before his face cracked, smirk settling on his lips.

“She’s cute.” Steve smiled back, settled himself in the booth opposite. “Loud as all fuck.”

“Yeah, she’s always been a yeller.” Steve leaned over the table, holding out his hand. “I’m Steve Harrington.”

“Billy Hargrove.”

Billy shook his hand.

Steve Harrington.

Billy liked his name.

Well, honestly, he’d probably like any name as long as it was attached to this guy. Billy shook his head.

None of that here.

“Thanks for taking care of her.” Steve was looking down at Egg, scratching between her ears.

She was perched on his lap, looking up at him like he was the whole world.

It was the softest shit Billy had ever seen.

“She’s sweet. Lost her damn mind when she saw you, though.” And then warm brown eyes were back on Billy, and it was genuinely difficult not to cow under them.

“We’re very best friends.” Steve’s smile was sunshine. Just as warm and bright as his stupid fucking eyes. His stupid cheeks had a smattering of moles on them. Billy could see them dotting his neck too.

He wrenched his eyes away from them.

“That’s a little bit lame there, Harrington.” Billy couldn’t bring himself to call him Steve.

He’s not allowed to be on first name basis with this guy.

Steve raised one eyebrow, pursing his perfect pink lips-

Fucking come on, Billy. Don’t look at the fucker’s lips.

“How very rude of you. I’ll inform you, I used to be hot shit at the old high school.”

“You graduated?”

“No, I’m a senior. Just, you know, not hot shit anymore. Cold shit.” Billy barked a laugh, the cat looking wildly at him.

“Fuckin’ cold shit .” He shook his head, fiddling with the laminated menu in front of him. “I’m gonna be a junior. Just like, by the way.”

“You new in town?” Steve smiled brightly at the waitress as she poured him a cup of coffee. Billy wrinkled his nose as he proceeded to dump sugar into it, rounding it off with four creams.

Billy just kept his plain.

“Moved here a few days ago. From California.”

“Jesus, why ?” Egg was currently staring back at Steve, pawing at his stomach.

Billy’s heart nearly fell outta his asshole as Steve lifted up the hem of his sweatshirt, Egg tucking herself close to his body as he pulled it back down.

He had smooth pale skin. Had even more fuckin’ moles, and sweet God, the fucking hair. His happy trail was dark, sinking down into the waistband of his jeans.

Billy’s mouth was dry.

Egg meowed softly from under his sweater.

“My, uh, my dad remarried. He wanted to have a fresh start, or whatever.”

“No, I just mean, why here? This town is a shithole.”

“Yeah, I could see that.” Steve kicked him under the table. Billy ignored the way his stomach flopped.

“Don’t be rude .”

“You just said it was a shithole.”

“I’ve lived here my whole life. I’m allowed to say that.” Steve broke off a small piece of one of Billy’s strips of bacon, holding it down the collar of his sweater.

Egg meowed at him, no doubt taking the bacon.

“Besides, you didn’t answer my question. Why here ?” Billy shrugged.

He doesn’t really think telling Steve the truth would completely fly.

After all, his dad’s a lot smarter than Billy has ever wanted to give him credit for.

“Something about small towns having nice communities.” Steve rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, they’re nice until everyone talks shit behind your back.” He picked off another piece of bacon, dropping it down his sweatshirt as well. His tone had shifted, his body slumping forward a little bit. The cat in his sweatshirt squirmed a little.

“You say that like you know from experience.” Steve shot him a glare.

“Remember how I said I’ve lived here my whole life?” He rolled his coffee mug between his hands.

“That bad, huh?” Steve shrugged.

“Might be better for you.”

“Doubt it.”

Steve’s sweater gave a sharp mreow. He put one hand against her, jostling her like one would a baby.

“I should get her home. She needs dinner.” He pulled out the neck of his sweater, smiling at the cat in there. “Thank you for taking care of her. Scared the shit outta me when I realized she was gone.” Billy’s breath caught in his chest when Steve looked back at him. “Let me pay for your dinner.”

Billy had the no ready on his lips, but Steve was already digging into his wallet, pulling out a crisp twenty, placing it under his mug.

He stood up, holding beneath the lump still in his sweatshirt, cradling Egg close to him as she curled tighter.

“Thanks again. I really woulda lost my shit if anything bad had happened to her.” And he gave Billy another smile, one so sweet and full of fucking sunshine it only made him fucking ache for California.

Billy just nodded at him, pointedly didn’t look at his ass as he walked away.

Because his dad uprooted the whole family to deposit them here. Where Billy would probably be hunted like Frankenstein’s fuckin’ monster by an angry mob of villagers if he let himself look at other boys’ asses as they walked away.

He just finished his food.

Left the bacon Steve had picked pieces off of for last.

#i did it!#egg the cat #here she is #this whole ass fic about a fictional cat of a fictional character thanks #yikes writes #steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove #nice

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hizashis-lil-bunbun · 3 years

Text

No Rest for the Wicked- HardDom!Dabi X Fem! Brat Reader

Prompt: Dabi just wants to take a nap but everything goes wrong

I asked a friend in one of my discord groups for a random writing prompt when I was up late. Something about this one activated my inner ✨brat✨

Enjoy!

Word Count: 3.3k

Kinks/Warnings: brat taming, degradation, pain play, spanking, belting, mild dacryphilia, bondage, edging and denial, hints of dubcon

Banner made by the always lovely @ladyshinigami!

••••••••••••••

Exhausted.

That was the best way to sum up Dabi’s mood as he trudged through the bar fronting the League’s headquarters. Shigaraki had sent him out on a mission with orders to “stake out and take out” a small band of up-and-coming heroes. It had been easy enough to find them (newbies can never resist being flashy), but making sure they were all disposed of was another matter. A matter only made more complicated by a few rogue civilians that happened to spot him. It had taken him two full days to track everyone down, leaving him covered in blood, soot, and burns. In short, Dabi needed a break.

“Well, well, well.” Came the nasally voice of their fearless leader, “The prodigal son returns! Took you long enough, Dabi. Hope that means you didn’t fuck up the mission.”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist.” Dabi snaps back, too tired and sore to care about his tone. Not that he’d be any kinder to Shigaraki if he wasn’t. “I did what you asked and left no witnesses. Now piss off before I turn you into a smoldering pile.”

Shigaraki didn’t rise to Dabi’s bait, opting to simply flip him the bird before going back to whatever game console he was currently obsessed with. Dabi returns the gesture in kind, glowering as he disappears behind the bar and into the League’s living quarters. Their warehouse provides more than enough space for everyone to have their own room, and the boss even allowed them to decorate and furnish them as they pleased. Wasn’t that generous? Dabi plods down the hallway to his assigned room and kicks open the door only to find it was occupied. By you.

“Dabi?” You question for a moment before your eyes light up with excitement. “Dabi! You’re back!”

As a fellow Stain devotee, you’d sought out the LOV and been initiated as a member a mere six months ago. And two months later, you’d been initiated into Dabi’s bed. You wouldn’t exactly call yourselves “lovers.” Love was few and far between in a hornet’s nest of villains. But you’d certainly become something more than the occasional lay.

He grunts as he stalks into the room, shedding his coat and boots as he went. Dabi was never big on grand displays of affection. And in his current state, that small show of acknowledgment may as well have been equivalent to a bear hug.

“I missed you.” You chirp back, undeterred by his gruff response. “How was the mission?”

“Long and shitty.” Came his terse reply as he strips off the rest of his clothes and grabs a towel from a nearby wall hook. “I need a fucking shower.”

He wraps the towel around his waist before he sets about searching for body wash and a first aid kit. Greedy eyes roam the plane of his toned torso, eager to touch the scarred and stapled flesh you’d spent many a night mapping out. Before joining the League, you’d never had an opinion one way or the other on touch or physical intimacy. You didn’t dislike it by any means; it was just something people did, fuck buddies or otherwise. But now that you’d shared a bed with Dabi, your perspective had changed. His rough touch was your drug of choice, intoxicating in all the best ways. And with him being gone for almost 72 hours? It was safe to say you were jonesing for a hit.

“Oooh, sounds like fun.” You purr, sprawling out on the mattress in a catlike stretch. “Want me to join you? I think we could use a little… quality time together.”

He snorts derisively at that, straightening up once he’d found his supplies and fixing you with a deep scowl. So pretty even when he’s pissed. You bat your eyelashes in return.

“Don’t get cute, dollface. Once I get cleaned up I’m passing out for the next century.”

Before you can shoot off another coquettish remark, he turns on his heel and marches out the door in the direction of the communal showers. You huff and clamber out of bed to follow him, determined that he wouldn’t get away so easily.

“C’mon Dabi!” You whine, trotting along behind him as he stalks down the hallway. “I haven’t seen you in days! Are you really just gonna give me the cold shoulder?”

“Yup.” He snaps back, shooting you a harsh glare over said shoulder before barging through the bathroom door. From the other side you can hear his bark of “Move it, psycho!” followed by an indignant squeak from whom you can only assume to be Toga. You huff and stamp your foot like a petulant child, turning on your heel to flounce off in the direction of the League’s bar front.

“Bastard.” You seethe under your breath, “Who does he think he is, ignoring me like that? It’s his fault I’m so pent up. If I tried ignoring him when he was all hot and bothered–!”

You pause for a moment as a lightbulb goes off in your head. A single impish thought flashes through your mind and it causes your lips to curl into a Cheshire grin. He wants to play games? You’ll give him games.

You continue your trek into the dimly-lit, woodpandeled speakeasy, a renewed vigor in your stride as you make a beeline for the bar top. Kurogiri is standing behind it as per usual, wiping out a pint glass like the faithful bartender he pretends to be. You sidle up to the bar and place both hands on the oaken surface, adopting a sweet, too-innocent lilt to your voice.

“Kuro-baby.” You purr, the cutesy pet name causing the misty specter to look up from his task. “Can I have a glass of water, please? With lots of ice, if you don’t mind.”

Wordlessly, Kurogiri sets down the glass and picks up a shorter one, using it to scoop up a generous portion of ice from the freezer below before filling it nearly to the brim from the tap. If he has any suspicion of you, he’s very good at hiding it. The same can’t be said for Shigaraki, sitting a few stools down from you and still tapping away at the buttons of his console.

“Fucking with Staples again?” He questions disinterestedly, followed by a hiss of annoyance when the game lets out a series of gunshots. He must have gotten himself killed again.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You shoot back airily, swiping the glass from Kurogiri’s outstretched hand and hopping off your own barstool.

“It’s your funeral!” He calls after you, waving you off with one hand. You snicker as you march back into the living quarters, one hand wrapped around the chilled glass and the other flattened over the top to ensure you won’t spill a drop along the way. Soon you find yourself back in front of the bathroom door and, suppressing the urge to giggle, you slowly push through it and into the steamy room beyond. In spite of the hideout’s outward appearance, the place is surprisingly clean and well-kempt (all thanks to den mother Kurogiri). Two sinks stand against the left-hand side of the wall, with two doors opposite them leading to the toilets. Next to the sinks are the showers: three open-faced, tile cubes barely covered by flimsy plastic curtains. Toga is standing in front of the nearest sink, wearing a skimpy pair of Hello Kitty pajamas and washing the blood and goop from her latest transformation out of her navy, pleated skirt. She looks up at you when you enter and you quickly put one finger to your lips, smirking as you point between the glass and the running shower beyond. Toga lets loose a sadistic giggle of her own before hastily shushing herself when you hear Dabi’s bark of “Pipe down out there!”

As you move past her, you can see her mouth the words, “You’re so dead, big sis.”

You can feel a jolt of adrenaline course through your veins as you sneak up to the edge of the tiled wall separating the shower from the rest of the bathroom, the glass in your hand shaking briefly. A small amount of water sloshes over the rim and spatters onto the floor, the sound barely overshadowed by the shower.

“Doll?”

His low, rumbling voice coming from the other side of the curtain sends another shiver down your spine.

“What are you up to out there?” He growls dangerously, as if he has a sixth sense when it comes to you and your shenanigans. For just a moment, the rational part of your brain takes over and makes you question your actions. Dabi’s already in a foul mood, and getting worse by the second by the sound of it. Maybe if you hold off and behave like a good girl–

Your body seems to move of its own accord. The next thing you know, the contents of the glass are sailing through the air, arching high over the plastic curtain rod and landing with a messy splat onto your unwitting victim on the other side.

“What the fu–!” Dabi’s curse is cut off by yours and Toga’s mad giggling as you sprint out of the bathroom and down the hallway. Passing by a very confused-looking Spinner, you dart inside Dabi’s room and slam the door, locking it for good measure. Seconds later, he’s pounding on it, using enough force that you’re convinced it might splinter and break off its hinges.

“Open this door right now and make this easier on yourself!” He roars, furiously jiggling the handle.

You let him pound away for a few more seconds, in part to allow yourself time to catch your breath but mostly to delay the unenviable punishment. With a deep, steadying breath, you plaster on a mildly amused expression, undo the lock, and pull open the door. Dabi is visibly seething, water dripping from his hair and cascading in rivulets down his toned chest onto the towel slung low on his hips. His brows are knitted together in rage, turquoise eyes flashing dangerously while one hand is still raised in a fist.

“Oh hey, babe. Done with the shower al–?”

His hands are around your throat before you can blink, your sassy remark devolving into a high-pitched squeak.

“You little bitch.” He spits at you, forcibly backing you further into the room as he advances. “Was that your idea of a joke?”

“N-no.” You gasp in response, voice slightly raspy from the pressure on your jugular. “I just thought–“

“Thought what exactly?” Dabi growls, kicking the door shut behind him with one foot before giving your shoulders a hard shove and pushing you onto the bed. You land with a slight bounce, the momentum giving you just enough time to prop yourself up on your elbows.

“Well?” He hisses, venom dripping from the word as he glares down at you.

“I was worried.” You start slowly, tone almost loving as you gaze up at him with big, doe eyes. “You seemed so tense when you got back. And don’t think I didn’t notice those new burns on your arms. So I thought, since the mission was so hard on you…”

Your face suddenly splits into a shit-eating grin.

“I thought you might need to cool down for a minute.”

Dabi blinks for a second, seemingly struck dumb by your remark. And then his hands are back on you in an instant, roughly flipping you over to lie chest-down with your legs hanging off the edge of the bed.

“Of all the stupid–“

Your shirt is ripped over your head from behind.

“Immature–“

There goes the bra, clasps and straps lost to a wildfire of blue flames as it falls away from your body in a charred heap.

“Bratty little schemes.”

Your leggings and panties are harshly yanked down, slipped off, and discarded into some unknown corner of the room. You feel cool air hit your legs and backside, moments before a harsh slap lands on your right cheek. With a yelp, you cast a wide-eyed glance over your shoulder at the menacing presence behind you; a pillar of rage and sadistic urges looming over your naked form.

“You wanted my attention that badly, dollface? Well I’m sorry to say you’ve got it now.”

Before you can react beyond a pained, needy whimper, Dabi hooks his right arm under your thighs to haul you up and onto the bed. He lays his full weight across your back and reaches around and underneath the farthest edge of the bed to produce a simple, black cuff, attached to the nylon spreader running along the underside of the mattress. Giving it a few cursory tugs, he grabs ahold of your right wrist and yanks it towards the corresponding corner, attaching the device with practiced speed and precision. You continue to writhe and pant below him, muttering a litany of curses and “no’s” as he does the same to the opposite side. You’re now bound by both wrists, unable to do more than thrash wildly on the mattress in a humiliating, spread eagle position.

“Seems like you need a reminder of who’s in charge around here.” He snarls in your ear, pushing himself off of you and marching over to his discarded pile of clothing. You can hear the soft rustle of fabric, followed by the telltale clink of metal on metal that makes your eyes go wide.

“Y-you wouldn’t dare…” You start breathlessly, just before the first blinding sting of leather greets your exposed skin, right at the juncture where the soft swell of your ass meets the tender flesh of your thighs.

“That’s where you’re wrong, sweetheart.” Dabi says mockingly, his tone dripping with false pity and saccharine sweetness as he takes his place at the edge of the bed once more. “I don’t have any problems dealing with a mouthy… little… brat like you.”

His words are punctuated by three more vicious blows, this time striking the meatiest part of your ass and sending the pliant flesh jiggling. The metal rivets in his belt only add to the pain, biting into your rapidly heating flesh and causing tears to prick at the corners of your eyes. Shifting your hips in a futile attempt to get away from Dabi and his newfound torture device, you roll partly onto your side and look over at him with watery, pleading eyes.

“S-sir… Dabi, please!” You sputter out, voice already wavering as your resolve crumbles beneath the stinging sensation. But Dabi’s not in the mood for bargaining. Instead, he growls as he wraps an arm around your waist and shoves his left knee underneath your belly, hiking your ass further into the air.

“Hold still!” He barks at you, another crack of his belt sending a fresh wave of searing pain along your already raw skin. You scream in agony, unable to do more than wriggle and squirm against his hold.

“Start counting, brat.” He demands huskily, your only warning before the next punishing spank meets your burning flesh.

“One!” You gasp out, “I’m sorry! Please–!”

Another blow lands, somehow harder than all the others, revisiting the spot where ass and thigh meet and causing you to wail in pain.

“Too late for apologies, dollface. The only thing I wanna hear from that slutty little mouth is counting. Understand me?”

The arm looped around your waist tightens in warning, and you hiccup before sputtering out a shaky, “T-two.”

“That’s more like it.”

He continues spanking you at a steady pace, the only respite coming when he pauses to hear you choke out the next number. By ten strokes, you’re bawling. By fifteen, you’re practically brain dead, unable to quell the sobs that wrack through your body or think beyond the next count. He mercifully stops at twenty, dropping the belt and loosening his own grip on you. All you can focus on is the burning pain radiating out from your tanned backside, sobbing as you bury your face into the pillow below you for comfort. Dabi’s own breathing is heavy and ragged, and he takes a few deep, measured breaths to steady himself. After a few moments, that hand that once held his belt is carefully laid on the curve of your ass, and you gasp both at the gentle touch and the shock of prickly pain it brings. Judging by the way he strokes the heated flesh, you’re sure the silver eyelets have left a series of bruises behind.

“S-s-sir.” You blubber, “I’m... I…”

“Shhhh, quiet down.” He says softly, voice uncharacteristically tender as he runs his hand along the width of your heated cheeks. “It’s over now. You did so well.”

The unexpected praise makes you whimper beneath his affections, devolving into a quiet moan as his hand travels even lower, fingers coming to rest at the entrance to your heated core. He begins to gently massage at your folds, middle finger slipping inside to find you impossibly wet and clenching around the digit.

“You filthy little thing…” He breathes out on a chuckle, “Are you really that turned on by me beating the hell out of your cute little ass?”

His finger delves deeper, pussy eagerly sucking him in as you keen below him. His free hand begins to lightly scratch up and down your back, goosebumps rising in the wake of each careful caress. Without thinking, you shift further onto your knees, fighting through the pain to push against his hand.

“Please, Sir.” You moan wantonly, “More. Please.”

With another dark chuckle, Dabi slips a second finger inside of you and begins to languidly pump them in and out. Pain and pleasure meld together in a sinful symphony, pants and whimpers coming from you as you rock your abused body against his own scarred flesh. He adjusts the angle and crooks his fingers downwards, curling them just shy of that sensitive bundle of nerves you know would have you seeing stars. Your back arches as you hungrily push against him, dignity forgotten in the face of pure, carnal desire.

“Getting impatient, are we?” He growls teasingly, fingers suddenly slipping out from your sopping core and wrenching a high-pitched whine from the back of your throat. He moves off the bed entirely, ordering you to stay put as he walks over to the nearby dresser and opens up the top drawer. Like the cuffs would allow you to do anything otherwise.

“Ah, here we go.” He says after a few seconds of rummaging, striding back over to the bed and taking up residence behind you. You feel the mattress dip under his weight seconds before his hands find your hips, roughly hauling them upwards and forcing your face further into the pillows. You shriek as he grabs ahold of your left cheek and squeezes harshly, pain shooting up your spine like a bolt of summer lightning. Something hard and cool prods at your quivering entrance, briefly brushing against your clit before being plunged inside of you. The sudden stretch feels at once too much and deeply satiating, sending burning, pleasurable heat licking across your oversensitized nerves. Once the toy is sunk to the hilt, Dabi gives a short grunt of satisfaction before sliding off the bed and circling around to lean over your quivering form. You turn your head to face him and he smirks at the sight of your fucked out expression: eyes red and puffy, cheeks streaked with half-dried tears, lips swollen from the bluntness of your own teeth.

“Aren’t you a sight?” He hums lowly, brushing away an errant strand of hair to plant a condescending kiss to your temple. “Such a needy little slut for me.”

With another dark chuckle, Dabi pats your cheek, straightens up, and turns towards the door.

“Wait!” You squeak out, squirming against your restraints as you watch his retreating back. “You’re just gonna leave me like this?”

“That’s the plan, dollface.” He shoots back, casting you a wicked grin over his left shoulder as he pulls the door open. “At least until I finish my shower.”

#bnha #bnha x reader #dabi x reader #Dabi #mha smut #mha x reader #tw: noncon #tw: pain play

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iloveitwhen · 3 years

Note

how about tim and marinette jokingly planning world domination and then accidentally carrying it out (to the annoyance of the batfam)??

this was so fun to write and I hope it makes sense! Marinette and Tim are extremely delirious so it was hard to share their thoughts while also having it make sense to the readers... I hope you like it!

“Dick, stop lying! There’s no way we could have done that. There’s no way we “accidentally took over the world.” Do you really think the two of us could have taken out all seven JLA members?”

“What day is it, Marinette?” Dick asks instead of answering her question.

“Tuesday,” Tim answers for her.

“And the number?”

“Nineteenth,” Marinette crosses her arms and looks at Dick impatiently.

“It’s Saturday the 23rd,” he declares hotly. “Haven’t you been wondering why you’re so hungry this morning? The two of you have been sleeping for 32 hours and had been awake before that for almost an entire week with maybe an hour of sleep a day. But it’s ok! Because before you fell asleep we got you on camera admitting to everything that you’ve done and we have your notes, which you will have to decipher by the way because for some reason you thought it was a good idea to code everything in your notes and you are in so much trouble right now!”

“Show us,” Marinette was now understandably a little concerned because she totally did have the weirdest dream last night. And was it really the 23rd?

Five minutes later Marinette is standing side by side with Tim watching a video on the bat computer of the two of them in the interrogation room while Dick is questioning them.

Marinette’s head is resting on the table, clearly sleeping when Dick slams his hand on the table forcing her to snap her head up in alarm.

“You are NOT going to sleep right now. The last time this happened you couldn’t remember a thing! Tell me everything and I’ll let you go to sleep.”

Tim who has already been sitting up but was still very much asleep and didn’t seem to be affected by Dick’s outburst snaps his eyes open.

“How dare you!” he bellows causing Dick and Marinette to look at him in surprise, Marinette’s much more exaggerated than Dick’s, “We will never agree to these terms!”

There are a few moments of silence in the video and Tim makes a noise of embarrassment from the back of his throat while Marinette holds back laughter.

“I wouldn’t laugh quite yet, Marinette,” Dick admonishes.

“Wait I’m really tired though… ,” Marinette complains to Tim.

“Great!” Dick claps his hands together and turns his attention to Marinette, “after you tell me everything you can go to sleep.”

Marinette nods very seriously then takes a deep breath and shakes her shoulders as if she’s hyping herself up to start a race or lift some heavy weights. She looks at a point on the wall a few feet to the right of Dick’s head and begins speaking as if she is a narrator of a science documentary.

Marinette cringes, some of the memories coming back to her like how she had believed she had one more mission, and that was to let the audience know the “trials and tribulations of their story” as she had so eloquently thought about it in her head. She watches as Video Marinette recounts their story remembering that she had believed it was a serious story and that the imaginary audience (that she wholeheartedly believed were watching) must understand this. Her hand goes to her mouth in horror as she watches herself on the screen go silent and stare at the point behind Dick’s shoulder for several awkward minutes, several times throughout the video. She remembers she had been trying to portray the scene that was passing before her mind’s eye for the “audience” to see as well. Clearly it didn’t work.

---

** italics indicate when Marinette is using her narrating voice and is staring into the “camera”

** dashes indicate flashbacks

“It was an accident.” Marinette starts, “Really, truly an accident. You can’t blame two delirious teenagers with a combined two hours of sleep within 3 days and half a brain cell to share between them. Honestly you can’t judge them, it’s not their fault the Lustice Jeague- Justilea- Just- Justice. League. Fell for it. You just can’t. It’s not their fault the justice league-”

“Marinette.” Dick interrupts.

“Right. Did I already say that? Well, anyways, point is. Not their fault….”

-------

Marinette pops her head suddenly and looks conspiratorially at Tim, “Hey.”

“Hmm,” not stopping his clacking away at his computer.

“Did you know Superman’s biggest weakness is Lois Lane?”

Time grunts in response as if saying, “yeah, what about it?”

“Like, he would literally be incapable of doing anything if Lois Lane was in trouble, like if Lois Lane disappeared so would Superman.”

“Yeah that’s crazy,” still clacking away at his computer.

“And do you know what Batman’s biggest weakness is?”

“Superman?”

Marinette giggles, “that’s funny. No, his pants.” Tim’s finger’s still as he processes what Marinette just said. “Think about it. If batman has no pants then he would disappear as well. Do you really think Batman would show up anywhere if he had no pants?” A pause. “Batman must really love his pants,” Marinette adds thoughtfully.

Tim begins ferociously clacking away on his computer again. “This is amazing,” he whispers, “we can use this against them! Amazing,” he says, whispering the last word with, well, amazement.

“I know, right? We could like… take over the world with this information or something.”

Tim gasps, finally turning to Marinette sprawled on his bed, “we totally could!” Suddenly he looks around and lowers his voice as if sharing a secret, as if there was anyone else besides Marinette to hear anyway. Marinette sits up and leans in excitedly, “we totally could,” he repeats.

Marinette nods her head enthusiastically, “and we can totally give it back afterwards. Like, it’s no big deal. Just to like, prove we could.”

Tim’s eyes grow wide and he nods his head with child-like excitement, “let’s do it.”

-------

“24 hours later, now with 7 hours of sleep between them in four days, Marinette and Tim had developed the most bestestest plan to ever grace the mise of anyone, it was-”

“Mise?” Dick interrupts again, trying to figure out what she was saying.

Marinette scrunches her face up, “My- mizzzee- my- m- myyy-nnnd. Mind.” She finally corrects then turns her focus back to the imaginary camera, “of anyone who ever lived. It was spectacular.”

“This is horrific.”

“Exactly. So horrible that it worked miraculously. I say that totally seriously. Seriously. No, I am not a miraculous, ask Ladybug.” Marinette then switches demeanor shifts in her seat and asks: “Ladybug?” she shifts in her seat again to slightly face the opposite direction and answers herself, “Yes?” She shifts again. “Are you a miraculous?” Shifts. “No. I am not.” Marinette looks back into the imaginary camera, “See? She says Marinette is not Ladybug….” she trails off for a moment, her head slowly dropping indicating she was very close to falling asleep.

“I can’t believe this is happening.” Marinette snaps her head back up.

“Oh but it has. Tim and Marinette had targeted every single weak point of every JMLA member, the Jumpstice League stood no chance against the duo. Tim crafted a device that tracked Lois Lane, gathering any and all data on her to mimic her, including her heartbeat and scent so that Superman would be properly duped. Setting the trap in his very own house-” she suddenly cuts herself off and looks between Tim and Dick, “by the way did you know? That man is like, super weak to Kryptonite. It would have been so much easier to know that in the beginning. And also that he has a cousin? She’s very pretty, right, Tim?” She turns to her boyfriend who is looking at her with a soft smile.

“Mmhm. You’re very pretty.”

Marinette ignores him and continues, “So Tim and Marinette trapped him in a cage of kryptonite-”

“You did WHAT!?”

“-and he totally passed out, the two heroes are still a bit confused why he was making such a big deal about it.” Marinette pays no mind to Dick as he reaches out and shakes his hands like he wants to strangle her neck. “Tim then crafted a signal miminicking a detest call-”

“Distress,” Dick corrects.

“-distress call from Themyscira rendering Wonder Woman unavailable. Unfortunately for her and fortunately for us it was her birthday and since I’m good friends with Momma Wonder,” she abruptly turns to Dick and points a finger at him as if he was a five year old in trouble and adds: “that’s Queen Hipopotolia to you, Mister,” before turning back, “they threw her a total rager,” again changing her demeanor and rolls her eyes “which I’m missing right now by the way, so she’ll be gone for a few more days, those gals really know how to party….

“Then the Flash. He was easier than the two expected, they meanly- I mean merely, well, meanly too- slapped a speed force inhibitor around his wrists. He couldn’t tap into the speed force to vibrate through it, he couldn’t cut it off, he would definitely die including everyone else in a mile radius-” Marinette swivels her head to Dick and smacks the table,”-nuclear bombs are SUPER dangerous by the way, you really don’t want to mess with them.

“He couldn't contact anyone, any electric device he came across was rendered useless due to Tim’s genius, once again.

“You’re so smart, baby, they couldn't have done this without you,” she adds out of the blue looking at Tim with a proud smile

“Mhmm. You’re so pretty,” he repeats while Dicks drops his head into his hands.

“They knew the Flash had friends so they did what they had to and locked him in one of those big containers that you sometimes see on trains and sometimes see on big ships and is currently in the middle of the ocean. Also that inhibitor thingy works as a shock collar too so like screaming electrocutes him preeeetty bad.”

“If the JLA doesn’t kill the both of you, I will.”

“The Martian Manhunter, well, you know what they say, show, don’t tell…. Marinette looks deep into the “camera” willing it to see what she was seeing.

--------

“J’onn J'onzz.” The green alien turns around to find two young adults who looked uncharacteristically professional, hands clasped behind their straight backs and serious expressions.

“...Ladybug. Red Robin. What can I do for you?” J’onn places an alien piece of tech down to focus on the two of them. Unfortunately he could not read Ladybug’s mind when she was in the suit and Red Robin’s mind was a mess of noises and jumbled thoughts that made no sense whatsoever, except one that was a bit louder than the rest and was repeated like a mantra.

Christmas eve, 1998.

J’onn tensed, “What do you want,” he demanded more than asked, overly concerned about how and why that thought was in Red Robin’s mind.

“Nothing. Exactly that. Nothing,” Ladybug responded. “We need you to leave, to go somewhere for a few days and to not resurface or interfere in any way, shape, or form. And in return we will delete anything and everything that ever existed on Christmas Eve of 1998. It’ll be like it never existed.”

“I can’t do that.”

Ladybug suddenly broke her composure and groaned. “Oh come oooon, We promise no one will get hurt!” she linked her hands together and gave the Martian a pout, “pleeaaseee?”

“The last time you two were like this you “accidentally” created a multimillion dollar company solely based on cosplay.” Ladybug was not phased and Tim was still chanting Christmas Eve, 1998 in his head, the boy probably wasn’t even aware time had passed since he got there. J’onn sighed, whatever they were up to it probably wasn’t too big of a deal. “Fine. But I want proof everything is deleted.”

“Yess, it’s a deal, big man. See you in a few days! C’mon Tim.”

“Can I stop repeating that thing in my head now?”

------

“Marinette.”

She breaks and looks at Dick impatiently, “I’m telling a story right now, what do you want?”

“You’ve been staring at the wall for 5 minutes straight, where is Martian Manhunter?”

“Oh I don’t know, he should be back on Tuesday though,” she shrugs and nods at the same time but like a switch has been flipped she is serious again. “As for Aquaman? Well, he has his own problems in the undersea. As you know the detective of Justice is Batman, Aquaman? Not much of a detective at all. But, having a mystery that needed to be solved in the undersea would have to be done with the bat’s assistance. However, Batman had his own problems to mace.

“Face?”

“Yes. A problem that he will never be able to solve without asking for little help of his own. Unfortunately for him, his pride and dignity was on the verge of devolution- devil- devolve… ded- destru- destruction! Also all communication to Alfred was severed and he was sent to the Bahamas to relax since Tim and Marinette promised that since Batman would not be able to be fight he would be safe.”

“Ohhh is that where he went? No wonder there was no breakfast this morning.” Tim drops his hand supporting his face and looks at Marinette in wonder.

“Babe we went over this like one time, you should know this.”

“Oh, right, yeah… I still haven’t eaten.” Tim lays his head down on his arm sadly and promptly falls asleep.

“And last, and definitely least, Green Lantern. Marinette, miraculoused in her all-black ninja suit- wait no- no miraculous involved, it was just black clothes,” Marinette trailed off and snorted. “I really just stole the Green Lanterns ring… It was uhhh, it was actually kind of easy….

“Marinette had slipped the ring from Hal’s hand and put it on her own, quickly and quietly slipping out the way she came but not before taking the battery thing that powers the ring and stealing every single cup in the house. The ring had then proved useful as it assisted in Marinette’s journey.”

“Wait. How?”

Marinette shrugs as if it weren’t such a big deal when it definitely was. “I don’t know, it actually gave me a little speech about going to Goodwill and then told me I was a lantern. Wait, do you think someone would have bought me if I posed as a lantern…? Oh yeah! I totally had a green suit and everything, it was crazy. Look! I still have it,” she stuck her hand out to show Dick, the thick green ring almost making contact with his face as she practically jumped over the table to show him. “I don’t want to give it back to Hal though it’s like… a really cool ring,” she says sadly as she sits back down, not giving Dick an actual chance to look at the ring.

“Ok. Ok.” Dick drags a hand through his hair in frustration. “What about batman? Where is he?”

Marinette shoots both of her hands up and points at the one way mirror behind Dick’s head, “Boom! Right behind ya in that there mirror.” Then she again turns to the imaginary camera to continue her saga.

“Batman. The easiest, yet most difficult. The smartest, yet most helpless. And though Marinette and Tim wish they could have said they did it alone, they desperately needed the help of a certain… seductress.”

---

Selena Kyle leans a hip into the counter of a kitchen, quietly making tea when a dark red and black tangle of something falls through an open window and crashes onto the floor, bumping into the family dining table and rattling the vase of wilting flowers. Selena curses loudly and goes to flee but realizes what, or rather who the pile of dark red and is. It’s Red Robin and Ladybug, otherwise known as Tim Drake and Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

The two groan loudly and clumsily untangle themselves and flop on the ground next to each other apparently too lazy to stand up at the moment.

“Hey,” Ladybug says, moving her head to the side to look at the standing woman.

“Hey,” Selena takes a sip of her tea and almost laughs when she realizes that Red Robin had either been knocked out or had simply fallen asleep.

Ladybug’s words are slurred together when she says, “we need your help,” while slowly blinking. Either she was on something, very drunk, or very sleep deprived. Knowing the two of them and considering Red Robin was fast asleep on the floor it was probably the sleep deprivation.

Selena acts as though she’s considering it even though she would help regardless, whatever it was these two were planning she wanted in.

“Only if you agree to owe me a favor.”

Ladybug (who had closed her eyes for a moment) snapped her eyes open and grinned, quite evilly, “what we’re planning will be favor enough.” Then, as if the conversation had ended, rolled her head around taking her surroundings in, “this isn’t your house.”

Selena chuckles, “no it’s not, but you found me here anyways.”

“Ohhhhh, right I forgot about that, do you know the person who owns this house?” Selena shakes her head and Marinette hums in response, wandering her eyes over the kitchen. “So what do you say about the pant situation?”

“The what?”

------

“The mystery woman had easily fallen for the trap. With her help, Tim and Marinette had almost succeeded in world domination, all that was left was to carry out the plans….”

---

Dick pauses the video and turns to the two heroes who were blushing furiously and fidgeting, waiting until they could bolt.

“I thought you were going to sit there for a few more minutes then start talking again but you just kept sitting there until I realized you had fallen asleep with your eyes open.” He huffed and started to type into the computer again. “You’re lucky none of the JLA members got hurt or that this-” he clicks a file “video did not get out to the world.”

Ladybug and Red Robin stand in a professional stance with hands clasped behind their backs, they were standing slightly off-center of the screen with an empty JLA table behind them.

“Good evening, world. I am Ladybug.”

“And I am Red Robin.”

“We have single handedly disposed of the JLA.”

“They will no longer terrorize our world-”

“Burn down our cities-”

“Trample us underfoot-”

“Wait-” Ladybug breaks character and turns to Red Robin, “are we describing Godzilla?”

Red Robin furrows his brow for a moment before bursting out in laughter, grabbing onto Ladybug and dragging her down into hysterics as well. They fall to the floor out of view of the camera but their guffaws are still spilling over the speakers very loudly.

Several minutes later they stand up, wiping their tear-streaked cheeks.

“Anyways,” Red Robin continues, a chuckle still present in his voice, “We totally have taken over the world and you!” he points into the camera.

“Are!” Ladybug repeats his movement.

“Under our control!” they chorus together, pointing their thumbs at themselves as if this were some sort of disney channel ad, some sort of joke and that they hadn’t just literally threatened world domination, hadn’t just succeeded in world domination.

They held the pose for a moment before Red Robin relaxed, Ladybug held her pose and continued to look into the camera while Red Robin reached up and paused the video.

“Luckily,” Dick begins, “You streamed the video straight to your own computer and not to the entire world, and luckily, you left your computer open on the dining tables for Duke to see it and for the rest of us, minus Jason,” he adds hotly, “to fix your mess.”

“At least you caught the perpetrator?” Marinette adds helpfully, her voice going up like a question and her face scrunched up hoping that the comment would placate Dick.

It did not.

Bonus:

Dick has both Marinette and Tim sitting side by side in an interrogation room, Tim is smiling and staring at Marinette with hearts in his eyes and sighing happily every once in a while Marinette is staring intently at the wall a few feet to the right of Dick’s head and talking as if she were the narrator of the documentary of her Tim’s “adventure” of literally taking over the world.

“This is insane.” Bruce Wayne whispers behind the one way glass with a towel wrapped around his waist, every single pair of pants he owned was still missing. And would continue to be missing until he admitted he needed help, the rest of the batfam had collectively agreed to not help him until he asked for help, much to Bruce’s chagrin.

Bonus Bonus:

The video is shaky but clear, it’s facing a dingy empty stage with a lone mic stand in the middle at what seems to be Karaoke night in an even dingier bar. The crowd is mostly quiet save for the buzz of conversation until the start of “Fantasy” by Mariah Carey starts and everyone cheers. The camera violently shakes and Hal Jordan’s voice booms through the speakers,

“Let’s go babyyyyy!!”

A few moments later and J’onn J’onzz, in his human form, hops onto the stage clearly hammered and most definitely not in control of his actions. He dances awkwardly around the stage until the first lyrics on the screen behind him light up.

“Oh when you walk by every night, talkin sweet and lookin fine, I get kinda hectic inside,” along with the words he points to someone in the crowd then puts the back of his hand to his forehead to indicate “swooning”.

“Oh baby, I’m so into you,” he clumsily hops off the stage and staggers over to someone at one of the front tables. The video zoomed in for a bit and focuses on the woman who briefly looks around her table with a laugh and she raises her strong arms, welcoming the drunk martian.

“Darling, if you only knew,” J’onn’s smile was so wide and he laughed into the mic instead of singing the next few lyrics. He forced Wonder Woman’s chair from the table with his telekinesis, and with an excessive amount of exaggeration he circled the chair, dragging his hand over her face. The other women, more Amazons by the looks of their arms, pounded the table howling in laughter.

“But it’s just a sweet, sweet fantasy, baby, When I close my eyes, you come and take me,” he circles to her front and boops her nose as he sings “take me” before turning around and facing the stage.

“On and on and on,” he looks back at Wonder Woman seductively and winks, “it’s so deep in my daydreams,” he hops back on the stage, “but it’s just a-” his foot gets tangled in the mic’s cords and his voice is cut off when he tries to save himself from smashing into the ground.

He fails.

Laughter erupts in the bar and the camera is slammed onto a table and Hal’s wheezing is heard above the others before the video cuts off.

phew *wipes brow* that was... actually a loooooottttt, but I hope it made you laugh and i really hope it wasn’t confusing to read! *smiles awkwardly and waves* byee....

#maribat #timinette #marinette and tim take over the world #marinette x tim #this was really really fun to write #i get my sleep deprivation ideas from personal experience #asks #my asks #its late and i need to sleep #but i keep adding tags #then forgetting what i needed tp tag #marinette and tim sleep deprived #that's not what i needed to tag but whatever

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