#hope you enjoy cause it was not beta'd

[wayward-dreamer]

Just For Tonight

Square/s Filled: Doggystyle @spnaubingo | One night stand @anyfandomkinkbingo | Touching under the table @jacklesversebingo

Pairing: Jensen x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 4,510

Summary: On a night out after a hectic work conference, Jensen was only looking for a quick drink before he returned home the next day. He clearly wasn't looking for more than that, but he definitely welcomed it once he met Y/N.

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, smut: dirty talk, vaginal fingering, oral sex (fem receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it up people), rough sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation.

A/N: It's been a while since I've written a Jensen fic, so here you go! Happy reading and hope you enjoy :) beta'd by my love @hintsofhoney

Jensen flicked open the top two buttons of his crisp white shirt as he walked into the pub, looking for a place to sit. Given that it was a busy night, he found a spot left at the bar, taking it immediately. His co-worker, Dan, had already ditched him back at the hotel, having found a blond woman he had been interested in talking to the entire conference. He sighed as he sat on the stool, his green eyes scanning over the people there, the hectic schedule of the last three days taking a toll on him. He was more than ready for a hard drink, or a few, before heading home the next day. The conference had been incredibly draining, and he was officially done being concerned with numbers and figures until he was back in the office on Monday.

Dan had wished him well in the hopes to find someone to spend the night with, but Jensen wasn’t thinking about that, even at all. It’s not that he never hooked up, he did. He just didn’t do it as often as his friend or other coworkers did. He had concentrated so hard on getting to a higher position at the company that he didn’t really find time to let loose once and a while. After the last three days with seminars dedicated to investment banking and financial services, however, he needed a break from the numbers swirling around in his head.

He looked around the room once more as he sipped his drink, and it wasn’t long before his eyes landed on a back corner table. It was a group of four women, laughing as they chatted about something, but he was only taken with one of them. From what he could see, she was wearing a black dress that came to just above her knees, the sleeves lace with the trim ending at her forearms. She giggled as she sipped a pink drink from a martini glass, causing him to smirk as he thought about his next move. He shifted around to get the bartender’s attention again, asking him to send a drink to the mystery woman’s table, the one she had ordered.

Jensen watched as the man behind the bar mixed it together before pouring it into a glass, sending it with one of the waiters towards the table. The women all looked up in surprise as the drink was placed on the table in front of her, the waiter gesturing to the bar before he left. Jensen’s eyes met hers from across the room, hers narrowing slightly as she looked between him and the glass in front of her. He watched in amusement as her friends whispered and nudged her, no doubt telling her to go over to him. He decided to make it an easier decision, getting up from the stool with his drink, pushing his way past people.

He smiled as he reached the table, standing right in front of her as their gazes remained locked on each other. “Figured I’d come over and say hi, rather than remain the mysterious stranger that bought you a drink.”

“Well, I almost came over, but I don’t know,” she started, glancing at the crowd before she looked up at him again. “Are you worth braving through that many people for?”

“Do I get to prove myself?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow.

She bit her lip as she continued to stare at him. He found himself wanting to be the one biting that lip, and little did he know she was thinking about the same thing at that moment. He had caught her eye the minute he walked in with his friend, and once he was alone she almost bought him a drink, before he beat her to the punch.

“Sure,” she replied, sliding into the booth a little to make room for him. She turned to her friends who were paralyzed in their places as they gawked at him, tilting her head towards the restrooms, a silent plea to them to leave her alone for a few minutes.

She watched them pick up their purses as they left, laughing slightly just as he did once their eyes met again.

“Jensen,” he said, offering his hand.

She smiled, placing her hand in his. “Y/N.”

“So, can I trust you with this?” she asked, holding up the new drink.

He reached for the stem, plucking it out of her hands and bringing the rim of the glass to his lips, taking a slow sip. He cringed at the taste as his features scrunched up, causing her to cackle at his face. The sound was infectious, making him join in as he passed the drink back to her. Between the glint in his eye and the sound of his hearty laugh, she was already willing to call an end to the night and see if he wanted to come over to her apartment.

“The only thing that’s guilty of is being too sweet,” he husked, as he picked his own glass and took a sip, changing the taste in his mouth. “But yeah, you’re good.”

“Thank you,” she said, simply as she sipped it.

“No problem,” he stated, unable to look anywhere else but at her. She was beautiful, and could very well be way out of his league, but nothing had to happen beyond whatever happened tonight.

He told her he was in finance, she told him she was an architect, and they both explained all the challenges that came with those jobs. She had a dog, and he had no pets considering he traveled for work so much. They went back and forth in conversation, smiles, flirtatious looks and light touches of hands passing between them. She leaned closer to him, her eyes drifted over his suit and up into his green orbs, just as her heeled foot grazed up the side of his calf under the table. She smiled softly, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip once more as she shivered at the feel of his fingertips brushing over her knee. His hand slid onto her thigh, over the fabric of her dress as his gaze drifted down to her mouth.

“Well, not to burst this bubble so soon, but… I leave tomorrow,” he informed her, frowning.

She hummed, nodding slowly. “Guess this is over before it even started, huh?

He shook his head, leaning his forehead against hers as his fingers swirled over her skin, at the edge of her dress. “We've got plenty of hours to pass before then, darlin’.”

A soft moan escaped her at the drawl of his words, and she had to try and calm down. This man was going to be the end of her, she knew it already. She had a brief thought about her own behavior because she never acted like this. It had only been about half an hour that they had been talking, and she was already ready to leave with him. She was never this quick to go home with strangers, but the second he walked into the bar she knew she needed to find a way to get him to her apartment and out of the suit he was wearing, fast. So, fuck how impulsive she was being in that moment, because that was exactly what she was going to do.

Jensen was thinking about the same thing. He wasn’t one to rush things like this, but he needed to know what she felt like and how many times he could make her come apart. He really needed to know.

“M-My apartment’s about 20 min-” she started to tell him but was cut off by a gasp, just as his hand slipped under her dress and rested on her thigh, his palm burning against her skin.

“My hotel’s a block from here,” he countered.

She shifted back slightly, smiling up at him. “Lead the way.”

They finished their drinks off in quick swigs, before they both got up from the table and made their way to the bar. She told her friends what was going on, promising to text once she was going home, whether it was tonight or the next morning. She hoped it was the latter. They watched as he paid their tab as well as his, genuinely impressed as one friend wiggled her eyebrows at her. They said their goodbyes as they parted ways outside, before she turned to him. He smirked as he held his hand out for her to take, a warm feeling settling in her belly as she thought about all the things he could possibly do to her.

“Shall we?”

The keycard beeped against the lock, the door opening as Y/N was pushed into the room, Jensen’s plump lips fused to hers in a rough kiss. He kicked the door closed behind him, dropping the card on the floor as she let go of her purse and jacket, trying not to stumble over them. He grabbed her hips, pulling her close as her hands gripped his white shirt tight, the buttons straining as she clenched the material. She started to unbutton it as she kissed him, but he took her hands in his, pulling back and staring deep into her eyes, panting harshly. He reached behind her and pulled at the zip of her dress, peeling it down her shoulders to reveal her black, lace bra. Once her arms were free, he held her close as he walked her back further into the room.

A small smile pulled at her lips, her heart racing at the thought of where this could go. She hummed as he pulled her dress down her body quickly, pushing it down along with her black, lace thong, allowing her to step out of it as it pooled around her feet. She glanced down briefly, suddenly feeling nervous with how exposed she was, but a gentle, hooked finger under her chin had their eyes meeting again. She felt her fears melting away instantly, which surprised her considering she had only known him for half an hour.

“Eyes on me,” he instructed, voice deep and husky as he leaned in, his lips hovering close to hers. “I want to see you lose control while I take you apart.”

“Fuck,” she breathed, biting her lip.

“That’s what you want, isn’t it, darlin’?” he asked, lightly nipping at her jaw. “Want me to ruin you with my fingers?”

“Y-Yes,” she stuttered.

He smirked, letting his hands slide down her back and land on the curve of her ass. He skimmed his palms over the flesh, raising one before he brought it down, hard enough for her to let out a small yelp of surprise. He chuckled, the sound a little sinister but a chill ran through her hearing it. He lightly pushed her arms, seeing her drop back on the bed with a giggle. He took her heels off her feet, shifting away from her as he undressed. She watched him as he stripped off his suit and shirt, feeling her core tighten at the reveal of his incredible torso, her hands already itching to hold onto his broad shoulders. He moved in, hovering over her as he kissed along her neck, her eyelids fluttering as they struggled to remain open. His warm hands drifted over her body, one drifting down to her breasts and pulling the cups of her bra down, as the other slipped between her legs. She gulped as she felt his thick fingers slide between her folds, a small grunt leaving him when he felt her.

“So wet for me already,” he remarked, meeting her gaze as he lightly pinched her nipple between his fingers.

She couldn’t help the moan that fell from her lips, shifting into his touch as he licked and nipped at her pulse, while his fingers continued to run over her, his thumb flicking over her clit. Just as the digits slid into her tight heat, her hands gripped the sheets beneath her. He pumped them slowly at first, groaning as she grinded against him, and he could feel his cock straining against his pants. His fingers picked up the pace a little, his thumb running circles over the swollen nub just as his other hand rolled the pebbled bud between his thumb and forefinger.

“Oh, fuck, y-yeah,” she moaned, wantonly.

She was trying not to close her eyes, to take in the way his eyes focused on her, but it was difficult. She wanted to lose herself in the feeling.

“Fuck, you feel so good around my fingers, sweetheart,” he husked, looking down at her. “You look so beautiful, just like this, ready to come undone.”

“P-Please, I need-” she pleaded, struggling to find the words.

“Oh, I know what you need, darlin’,” he whispered, smirking. “But first, you gotta cum on my fingers, and only when I say you can.”

She whimpered as he worked them faster, the blissful feeling from his actions spreading through every part of her body. She clung to the covers, a soft whine escaping her as she grinded against him, wanting more. She hissed as he applied a harder pressure to her breast, his green orbs dark with lust as he shook his head.

“Do that again and this’ll be over,” he warned. “Only when I say you can and not a second sooner. Got it?”

“Yes,” she gulped.

“Good,” he breathed, grinning as he continued his ministrations while he spoke to her. “You’re gonna be a good girl and listen to me, aren’t ya?”

She nodded, unable to trust her voice to work at that moment. A wicked glint sparkled in his green eyes as they looked at each other, his face barely an inch from hers as her ragged breaths fanned against his lips.

“That’s right,” he smirked. “Can feel how close you are, sweetheart. Wanna feel you gush all over my fingers, and then… then I’m gonna fuck you hard and fast, make you feel it for days.”

“Oh, fuck!” she cried.

She felt her walls clenched around his fingers, just as her core tightened and she knew it wouldn’t be too much longer before she fell over the edge. He continued to tweak her nipple between his fingers, working his other hand into her sex, his thumb flicking over the bundle of nerves, faster and faster as he felt her arousal against the pads of his fingers.

“Cum for me, darlin’,” he groaned, holding her close as they continued to gaze at each other. “Cum for me, soak my fingers.”

She broke their eye contact as her head fell back against the bed, a string of moans falling from her lips as he felt her wetness against his fingers, still pumping them into her as she continued to ride her high. His actions slowed as he pressed a kiss to her cheek, making her huff a short laugh as they finally stopped. She whined slightly at the loss of his fingers once he removed them, but she felt heat pool low in her stomach once more as he pressed one finger against her lips. She obeyed his silent order and took it into her mouth, humming at the taste of herself on his skin. A low grunt came from him as he watched her, his finger leaving her mouth with a wet pop as he brought the other one to his own lips, her arousal on his tongue making him groan.

“Amazing,” he breathed. “I think I want a proper taste…”

Y/N frowned briefly but bit into her lip once more as she saw him drift down her body, onto his knees. Jensen grabbed her hips, feeling his cock twitch in his pants as he spread her thighs, taking in her glistening folds. He ran his thumb over her entrance, making her whimper and him chuckle at how such a simple thing made her weak.

“So perfect,” he muttered, repeating the same action once, twice. “All dripping and swollen just for me.”

He leaned in and wasted no time, his tongue taking a long lick of her folds. A sound halfway between a gasp and moan came from her as she felt the sensation, whimpering as he did the same thing a few times before he slid the talented muscle into her entrance. She cried out as she lost herself in the feeling, her eyes squeezing shut as her hands moved into his hair. She whimpered as his beard scratched against her inner thigh, adding to the pleasure she was feeling. His hands slipped down from her hips under her ass, squeezing the flesh tight as he continued, devouring her like a man starved. Tears stung her eyes as she felt completely overwhelmed by what she was feeling, the need to feel another release coming far quicker than she anticipated.

“J-Jensen, p-please,” she begged, her hands tugging at his strands. “I need to cum again, please make me cum.”

The only response she got from him was a deep grunt vibrating against her as he kept at it, working his tongue into her faster, little nail marks left on her ass cheeks from his grip. It wasn’t long before she felt her walls tighten, her moans getting louder as he moved one hand from her ass onto her clit, rubbing it as quick as he moved his tongue into her.

“Oh, god, yes! Fuck!” she shrieked, feeling the dam break once more.

Jensen groaned against her, holding her close as he lapped up everything she had to give. He was intoxicated by the taste of her, breathing deeply as he drew back, pressing a kiss to her thigh. He stood up slowly, smiling softly at her disheveled state, hair completely a mess, bra still on with the cups pulled down. He reached under her and unhooked it, letting it fall down her arms before he threw it behind him somewhere in the room. He leaned over her and pulled her close, her breasts pressed into his chest as she held onto his shoulders, their lips meeting in a sensual kiss.

“You okay?” he asked, gently as he brushed some strands of hair away from her face.

“Yeah, I just… who the fuck are you and where did you come from?” she replied, giggling. She couldn’t believe he was real.

He chuckled, shrugging as he licked his lips, lightly. “I just aim to please, darlin’.”

Y/N beamed as she moved in, kissing him once more. She moaned into his mouth as he softly sucked at her lip, his hand sliding down to the back of her thigh and pulling it up around his waist. She couldn’t believe how quickly she trusted him, allowing him to do incredibly erotic and intimate things to her, but she felt from the way he looked at her in the bar that she could take him seriously. He pulled his lips away from hers, pecking them lightly in reassurance when she sighed at the loss. She watched him stand up, unbuckle and unzip his dress pants, biting her lip as her walls clenched around nothing in anticipation of feeling all of him when she saw how hard he was.

“Hands and knees,” he ordered.

She felt a shiver run down her back from his authoritative tone, doing as he said and turning onto her stomach, pushing herself on her hands and knees. She teased him by shifting back, the curve of her ass pressing into him, feeling his cock against her. She whined in protest as he moved away slightly, wanting him inside her as soon as possible before she combusted from the torture of waiting.

“Patience, sweetheart,” he muttered, his hands sliding down her back and pushing lightly, moving her further down. “I know you wanna prove what a good girl you are, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” she breathed, leaning her head on her forearms, now flat on the mattress.

Jensen smirked as he shifted closer, taking hold of his shaft and stroking it, slapping the tip against her sex. She whimpered at the feel, squeezing her eyes shut as he rubbed the length through her folds, her slick covering him. He lined up to her entrance, and without another word, sank deep inside her heat. Her mouth fell open as her walls sheathed his girth completely, the sound unable to escape her throat. As promised, he set a brutal yet pleasurable pace, thrusting into her hard and fast as he gripped her hips tight in his hands. She was no doubt going to have bruises in the morning, but she thought of them as a souvenir to an incredible night. Which this definitely was.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groaned. “So fucking perfect… this is what you wanted, isn’t it, darlin’? Being fucked like this, taking this cock in your tight little pussy?”

“Y-Yes, oh fuck, yes,” she moaned, loudly, not caring how many people heard her in the other rooms.

“Tell me how it feels…”

“So good, oh fuck, it feels so good,” she babbled, her hands clenching the sheets. “Love feeling your cock inside me, fucking me so hard, fuck!”

“Yeah, you do,” he smirked, gazing down at her. “Gonna make you cum so hard on my dick, want you soak every inch of it.”

He pulled her back against him by her hips as he thrusted, the smacking of skin joining their moans of pleasure as he pounded into her, harder and faster. He was chasing the release that he craved, but he wanted to get her there for a third time first. She was getting wetter with each stroke of his cock inside of her, and he could feel her walls contracting around him. The familiar feeling in her core grew, the head of his shaft hitting that sweet spot that drove her wild, and she knew she was close to the edge once more.

“Oh god, fuck, fuck I’m gonna cum-” she whimpered, biting down on her fist.

“Cum,” he commanded, his jaw clenching as he held back.

Y/N slapped her palm over her mouth, a muffled shriek leaving her as the coil within her snapped, her arousal slicking his cock as she came for a third time that night. It was far more shattering than the previous two, her body convulsing from the euphoric bliss coursing through her. She felt herself slowly coming down from her high, his thrusts slowing slightly, but he seemed to have other plans as he suddenly pulled her up into his arms. His hand covered her mouth as hers slipped away, holding onto his thick forearms as her back pressed into his chest, his other hand moving between her thighs as he continued to pound her relentlessly. His fingers rubbed against her clit so fast, she sobbed into his hand as she felt another wave of pleasure, her third orgasm rolling into a fourth.

“Give me one more, darlin’,” he growled, kissing her neck to encourage her when she whimpered and shook her head. “Yes you can. Wanna feel it, one more, darlin’, one more…”

A few tears strayed from her eyes as the wave finally hit her, a scream erupting from her lips which was stifled by his hand. She moaned as she heard his grunts becoming frequent in her ear, until he finally let out a guttural moan when his cock throbbed deep inside her. She hummed as she felt the warm spurts of his seed coat her walls, feeling him slump as he gave her every drop he had to give.

Jensen slowly removed his arms from Y/N, letting her drop down on the bed and stretch out her legs, a small wince leaving her as she felt the cramp in her muscles. He laid down beside her, both of them staring up at the ceiling, the awkwardness of the afterglow beginning. She turned to look at him, biting her lip as she appreciated his side profile, the way his chest moved as he regained his steady breath. Every inch of him was perfect, and it was a shame he was leaving tomorrow.

“Was that okay?” he asked, his deep voice breaking the silence.

She giggled, rolling her eyes playfully. “It was way better than okay.”

He smiled, rolling onto his side and shifting closer to her, looking deep into her eyes. She stared back at him, wondering what he wanted to say considering she could tell he was holding something back.

“You can stay,” he whispered. “If you want to.”

She nodded. She had a feeling that wasn’t what he wanted to tell her, but it was okay. There was no way she was leaving that room after what just happened.

She didn’t want it to be over so soon.

Jensen clipped his silver watch around his wrist, staring out the window to the view of the city in front of him. The sun had risen, and a new day was starting as he got ready to go back home. He glanced over his shoulder, smirking as he saw Y/N stir, her eyes adjusting to the light in the room. She sat up slightly, looking around the room in confusion before she spotted him by the window. She looked over at the bedside and saw the clock read 8:35am. That was far too early for how late they eventually fell asleep the night before.

“Morning,” he muttered, walking over to the bed and sitting down beside her.

“Morning,” she croaked, clearing her throat and trying again.

He chuckled, taking in her soft, sleepy look as she held the sheets close to her chest. “Last night was… it was amazing.”

“Yeah,” she agreed, her voice meek as she smiled at him. “It really was.”

“I gotta get to the airport on time so I have to go now, unfortunately,” he sighed, heavily. “But I got you a late check-out.”

“Thank you,” she said, a little surprised by the kind gesture. “Well, you better go.”

“Yeah,” he whispered, nodding slowly.

“And I think I’m gonna go back to sleep for a while and then order a huge breakfast on your tab,” she added, wiggling her eyebrows as she laughed.

“Damn, that’s a classy move right there,” he complimented, grinning.

A silence fell between them as they stared at each other. Before he got too comfortable, Jensen stood up and dropped the keycard on the nightstand, taking hold of his luggage. With one last look, he winked at her, causing her to beam back at him.

Y/N watched as he disappeared behind the wall, the sound of the door opening and closing making her frown a little. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t disappointed that she didn’t have longer with him, but she had absolutely no regrets about how the night turned out with him.

He had officially ruined her for other men, and they’d have a hard time competing with the best night of her life.

#spnaubingo #anyfandomkinkbingo #jacklesversebingo23 #Jensen x Female!Reader #Jensen x Female!Reader Smut #Jensen x Female!Reader One Shot #Jensen x Female!Reader Fanfiction #Jensen Ackles Smut #Jensen Ackles One Shot #Jensen Ackles Fanfiction #Supernatural RPF #Supernatural Fanfiction

[mimisempai]

We don't need to stop anymore

Summary

A goodbye kiss on the doorstep of the bookshop reminds Aziraphale of an aborted kiss on the same spot in 1941.

Notes

50 Types of Kisses - Writing Prompts

Kiss #40: A gentle kiss that quickly descends into passion, with little regard for what’s going on around them.

On Ao3

Rating G -  547 words

Crowley grabbed his glasses from the horse statuette, put them on his nose, and called to Aziraphale, "Angel, I'm off to the planetarium! Bye!"

Suddenly, the angel appeared from a shelf, walked toward him, and said sulkily, "You're just leaving without saying goodbye?"

Leaning against the door, Crowley replied, "I just did, didn't I?"

Aziraphale shook his head, answering, "Not properly."

The demon chuckled softly before leaning over the angel now standing in front of him and planted a light kiss on his lover's soft lips.

As he straightened up, Aziraphale couldn't help but think back to another farewell on the doorstep of the bookshop many decades ago.

"Well, maybe there is something to be said for..."

Aziraphale raised his glass to Crowley's and continued, "...shades of gray."

The demon clinked his glass against hers and replied, "Well, shades of...dark gray."

As he took a sip, Aziraphale countered, "Shades of a very light gray, I'd rather fancy."

As his gaze lingered on the demon, he realized something and asked, "Tell me, Crowley, why didn't you take off your hat and glasses?"

Crowley swallowed his drink in one gulp and replied, "Because I'm leaving.

Aziraphale, disappointed, said quietly, "Oh... well."

Throat tight, he struggled to finish his drink. He wanted Crowley to stay a little longer.

A few moments later, they were outside, on the doorstep of the book store.

Crowley said gently to Angel, running his hand along the brim of his hat in a sort of salute, "Thanks again, Angel, for saving my butt at the theater, and thanks for trusting me with, you know..."

He mimed the gesture of firing a gun to finish his sentence.

Aziraphale replied, "I've been trusting you for thousands of years, my dear."

"Well, again, thank you. I'm leaving now, Angel. Bye."

Crowley was about to turn when the angel whispered, "Are you sure you don't want to stay?"

Crowley swallowed before replying, "Stop looking at me like that. You know I can't refuse you anything if you look at me like that."

Aziraphale just breathed, "Please."

Crowley leaned forward and Aziraphale closed his eyes.

He felt the demon's breath come closer to his face, but he barely had time to feel the touch of the demon's lips on his when a burst of laughter in the street caused them to quickly part.

It was just a group of drunken partygoers, but the spell was broken and this time there was nothing Aziraphale could do to stop the demon.

"Why are you smiling like that, Angel?"

The demon's voice snapped him back to reality and Aziraphale replied, "I was thinking about another goodbye on this very doorstep a long time ago."

Crowley raised an eyebrow and replied, "If you're thinking about something else while I'm kissing you, I must be doing it wrong."

Aziraphale wrapped his arms around the demon's neck and said playfully, "You can try again, come on, make me forget everything."

Crowley brought his face close and whispered against the angel's smiling lips, "Your wish is my command, Angel.

He pressed his lips to his lover's and this time the kiss quickly turned from light to passionate and not even the bustle of the busy street could pull them out of their little bubble of happiness.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable kisses series : here

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here

Ineffable Growing Love - Series post S2

Part 1 Story 1-99

Part 2 Story 100-?

#good omens #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #ineffable boyfriends #aziraphale #crowley #good omens fanfiction #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #50 kisses

[dxncingwithastrxnger]

1. uh oh, i'm falling in love

A/N: Hello!!! I said I was gonna write and post this story ages ago and I am so sorry for how long this took!! But now I've finally posted it!!! And chapter 2 is almost finished so look out for that one!! I super hope you enjoy this series and that it was worth the wait!!!!

Pairing(s): Lancelot x GN!Tristan's Twin!Reader (No pronouns specified and I never specify whether they're identical or not, that's completely up to you!)

Summary: The King of Liones throws a party and among all the socializing, Lancelot and (Y/N) decide to spend their time breaking a few rules.

Tags: Alcohol Consumption, Underage Drinking, Meliodas, Fluff, Drunkenness (Is that a word??)

Word Count: 3,088

Song Inspiration: Labyrinth By Taylor Swift

Not beta'd, all mistakes are my own.

~*~

[Series Masterlist]

[Author Masterlist]

[Read on AO3]

~*~

You lean back against the cold stone wall behind you, sighing softly. You can feel the chill of it on your back through the thin fabric of your tunic, but you don't really care much. You’re a bit overheated from the partially crowded dining hall you had been in just a few minutes earlier and you really prefer it much more out here than back in there at the moment.

Nearly everyone you know is there. All four apocalypse knights as well as all their friends, Hendy and Dreyfus, mom and dad, Aunt Margaret and Uncle Gil. It’s a celebration of sorts. It’s someone’s birthday, one of the knights that isn’t Tris or Lance, though you’re not sure which one. Not that your father really needs much of a reason to throw a party anyways, but it is a nice sentiment at least.

It's not that you don't enjoy having fun with everyone, you do, but despite knowing every single person in that room, most of them aren't really your friends. Not including family, there’s only one person in there that you’re close to and by the time everyone had finished eating and scattered into different groups and conversations, you were the only person left by yourself, floundering to figure out what to do next. And so, you came outside to get some air.

"What are you doing now?" A voice says from beside you, the person sounding exasperated.

You turn to the right and crane your neck up towards the doorway leading from the dining hall to the balcony, your (Y/E/C) eyes locking with bright red ones. Your face flushes and you look away, bringing a hand up to rub at the back of your neck sheepishly.

"...sitting outside?" You ask uncertainly.

Lancelot sighs before he's sitting down next to you, so close that his shoulder is touching yours. You suppress a shiver at the warmth he radiates and loosen your hold on your knees, letting your legs stretch out in front of you. You mimic his sitting position, letting your leg touch his as well, and try your best not to think of your reason for doing so.

"(Y/N), you can be friends with them, too. Friendship isn't exclusive, you know." He points out for probably the millionth time in your guys' friendship.

"I know that, Lan, but you've never managed to succeed much in making friends in the past besides me and Tris, especially not an entire group of them, and I really don't wanna get in the way of that. You deserve to just have a group of friends without any interruptions." You tell him with confidence, even though you know it doesn't make much sense in the long run.

"And that wouldn't change just because you are a part of that group. You're my friend, too, my best friend, whether you're friends with the rest of them or not." He tells you, and you can feel his eyes on you, but you force yourself to keep looking away from him for just a little longer.

"Well, still. The five of you guys have a very unique bond and I'm not gonna take the chance of getting in the way of that." You say matter-of-factly.

Your best friend snorts. "Is that the same excuse you use with your brother? Cause I know you have this same argument with him just as much as you do with me."

You groan, throwing your head back and letting it hit the wall, causing a dull ache that you ignore. "Can we not talk about this right now, please?" You finally look at him, your eyes pleading for him to switch topics.

His expression softens as he looks at you and he nods. "Fine. Instead, let's drink." He gets a little grin on his face that's similar to an expression you'd seen on his father's face plenty of times, but at the same time, it's somehow still just all Lancelot. He holds up a dark green bottle and two chalices which had been on the other side of him, out of your line of sight.

You were glad for the conversation change and it was your turn to snort. "What did you sneak away this time?" You ask him knowingly.

He sits up a little straighter rather than slouching against the wall and places the chalices between his legs in front of him. "I have absolutely no idea but I snatched it from one of the castle guards. Heard him bragging about how good it was to one of his buddies, so you know, I thought you and I could test it out just to be sure he wasn't lying." He smirks as he opens up the bottle and starts pouring some for each of you.

You feel a slight flutter in your chest at the thought of him specifically wanting to share it with you and you stay quiet as you inspect the liquid in the chalice he hands you. The alcohol is a light pink color, almost translucent, and the first thing you can think of to compare it to, as random as it is, is Isolde's hair. Maybe a little darker, though. It's pretty. And not at all like any alcohol you'd ever seen or heard of before.

"You sure this is safe to drink?" You ask him sceptically as you turn your face towards him, though your eyes stay on your drink. "This isn't gonna turn out to actually be poison or anything, right?"

​​​​​​You bite your lip as you hear him let out that arrogant chuckle of his under his breath. "No, it's not poison, (Y/N). Now, c'mon, are we drinking or what?" He holds his chalice out and looks at you expectantly.

You shake your worry away and look at him with a small grin, tapping your chalice against his with a soft clink before you both take your first sip. Your eyes widen as the taste hits your tongue. It's sweet, with a slightly bitter undertone, and a deep burn as it slips down your throat that isn't unpleasant and definitely wouldn't be expected based on how sweet it is.

"Damn." Lancelot mutters appreciatively against the lip of his cup.

"Agreed." You mumble before taking a deeper gulp and enjoying it, closing your eyes and humming.

You pull your chalice away from your lips, intent on savoring what's left in it since it's your first time trying it, but Lancelot is gradually relaxing more against your side and the feel of his body still touching yours feels so much nicer than it should and you guys have an entire bottle to yourself and suddenly savoring your drink is the last thing on your mind as you shrug your shoulders and chug the rest of it down, sighing softly at the sweetness of it.

You relish in the taste for a few moments longer before grabbing the bottle from its spot in between Lance’s legs and refilling your chalice, though you misjudge and almost spill some of it over the rim of the cup. You giggle softly at yourself. You're quickly starting to realize that whatever this stuff is, it works fast, but you don't really mind.

"Hey, don't spill any of that, I only got one bottle this time and I don't wanna waste any of it." The boy beside you says sternly and at his words, you put every ounce of your focus into not spilling a single drop of alcohol until your chalice is filled and you hold the bottle out in his general direction.

He takes it from you and you take a long drink, sighing softly in content and slouching back against the wall, allowing your head to tip to the side and land on Lancelot's shoulder. He stiffens slightly beside you even as he leans his head against yours and you wonder if it’s the alcohol. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you have a fleeting thought that it’s strange for you to be so physically close with him, but it was gone as quick as it had come.

It seems that Lancelot's mind, however, lingers on it a little longer. "What are you doing?" He asks you softly, his voice almost a whisper and his words slightly slurring already.

"I'm relaxing." You state like it's obvious, noticing the same slur in your own voice. You take another drink as your eyes close before continuing. "Your shoulder is a really comfy pillow. And you're so warm." You find yourself leaning further into him as the cold wind blows against your mostly uncovered arms.

"(Y/N/N), people could walk right over here and see us like this." He says in that same soft tone, some emotion in his voice that you can't quite place in your current state of mind.

"So what?" You slur, finishing off your second drink. "'S not like we're doin' 'nything. Don' worry 'bout it, Lancey." The nickname you hadn't called him since you were nine slipped out without you asking it to, but thankfully, he doesn't acknowledge it.

You hear him sigh and you open your eyes to see him refilling his own drink and then yours, the bottle now empty. As you bring the chalice to your lips once more, you hear him speak so quietly that you're certain his words are only meant for his own ears, not yours.

"What am I going to do with you, huh?" The question is asked with a voice full of affection and you can't help but smile.

"Ya know, gettin' back to our rooms is gonna be a pain in the ass." You point out. "Next time, you gotta try an' find out how strong the stuff is before we drink it."

"Ah, shit." He curses and you snicker.

"Mmmm, maybe we can jus' sleep righ' here." You suggest, seriously considering it.

He lifts his head off of yours and you can't help but pout slightly as he starts shifting beside you. "We can't jus' sleep here, (Y/N/N). We gotta try and get to our actual beds." He reasons.

You groan as you sit up. "Ugh, why do you gotta be right?" You mumble.

He laughs softly as he sits up, leaning over your legs to nestle the empty bottle and now once again empty chalices into the corner of the balcony beside you. Seeing the action suddenly makes you wonder how he had even snuck any of it onto the balcony in the first place, but you're quickly distracted as Lancelot stands up.

He wobbles slightly as he does, reaching a hand out to steady himself with the wall, then he reaches a hand down to you. You grab it and allow him to help you stand, both of you taking a moment to gather your bearings and get used to standing. The world around you is wobbly and keeps going out of focus, but you have no choice but to force your vision to stay as clear as possible, as you will now have to walk quite a bit before you can get off of your feet again.

Simultaneously, you both step through the doorway and into the dining hall slowly and you squint at the brighter lighting, blinking quickly. "Here goes nothin'." Lancelot says quietly, and you both start making your way across the room as fast as your alcohol-infused brains will allow without either of you falling flat on your face. You manage to avoid catching the attention of anyone else in the room until about halfway to the doors leading to the hallway.

"Everything okay, (Y/N)?" Your dad calls from behind you and you freeze. Neither of you dare turn around, knowing that if you do, he'll immediately know what you and the blonde next to you have been doing. From your slow, uncertain steps to the bright flush that you just know is covering your face, your drunkenness would be completely obvious, and you know Lancelot is in a similar state.

You try to force your voice into some semblance of normal, trying to keep from slurring. "Yeah, F-Father, 'im fine." You tell him. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Lancelot nod his head in agreement with your statement.

Your dad gives a small hum as you blink and suddenly he's right beside you. Your eyes widen and you hear Lancelot choke before trying to cover it up with a cough. Your dad's expression is the same as always, just a casual, neutral expression that gives away none of his actual thoughts. However, in one of his hands is a bottle, and in his other is two empty chalices. None of the items ever had any special markings. Those could be any two chalices. That could be any old bottle of alcohol. But knowing your father, you know for a fact that they're the exact items that you and Lance had just left behind on the balcony.

You internally curse as you give your father an uncertain and sheepish grin. Your dad doesn't say anything else or react at all at first, but then he adjusts his hold on the chalices so that he can hold the bottle with the same hand as well, leaving one of his hands free. He suddenly gives his signature grin and his hand pats your back. It would've been a perfectly normal gesture except his hand comes down a little more forcefully than normal, causing you to stumble forward and almost fall on your face.

"Well, that's good! Go rest up, 'kay? We got a big day tomorrow!" He starts walking away but stops to do the same back patting move on Lancelot before he's moved across the room to do something else.

You and Lancelot turn to look at each other with wide eyes before you both turn forward and move as quickly as you can to get out of the room and into the hallway. Once the doors to the dining hall close behind you, you loop your arm with his without much thought to it, but you end up needing the support anyways as the two of you stumble through the halls.

Once you make it to your door, Lancelot starts to pull his arm away from yours, but you're quick to latch onto it again. "You gotta help me get to my bed." You whine softly, not caring much how you sound at this point.

He chuckles softly and the sound fills you up with a slight giddiness. "'Kay, fine." He says, pushing your doors open.

You both stumble into the room as the closing of the doors leave you in the very dim lighting of your bed chambers. You walk further into the room before your foot hits the corner of the long rug across the floor and you trip, falling forward. You yelp as you hit the ground and you hear a curse from beside you. You realize that you were still holding onto Lancelot's arm and had ended up dragging him down with you.

"'M sorry." You mumble quietly.

"'S fine." He reassures me.

You realize that you should probably get up now, but you're starting to get sleepy and your carpet is soft and you feel yourself sagging more into it. You look beside you to see Lancelot flipping over onto his back.

"Floor's comfy." He says softly.

You hum your agreement and after a moment of hesitation, you roll over and snuggle right up to him, your head going onto his shoulder and your arm throwing itself loosely over his chest and waist.

He gasps softly, freezing up, and you think for a moment that maybe you shouldn't have just done that. You're not really sure why you did it in the first place. Ever since laying your head on his shoulder earlier on, you had wondered what it would be like to snuggle all the way into his side, what it would be like to maybe even have his arms completely wrapped around you. You refuse to admit it right in this moment, but you’ve been wondering these types of things for awhile now, despite knowing you probably shouldn't. He’s your childhood best friend, you should see him as a brother, not as a potential romantic connection. But deep down you know that these feelings for him are inevitable considering you’ve had them for years. And so, when you saw him just laying there, you couldn't help yourself. It was like an instinct.

But now you’re wondering if he's been uncomfortable with you being all over him as you recall the way he stiffened earlier and the way he questioned your actions. You push away from him, opening your mouth and getting ready to apologize, when he suddenly beats you to it.

"No, wait-" His voice is suddenly filled with a strange sense of panic as his arm quickly curls around you and pulls you back against him, your head coming to rest on his chest this time, though neither of you voice any complaints. Your arm goes back around his torso as his stays curled around your waist. "Stay, please." He says in a tone of voice that even you very rarely hear from him. It’s pleading, vulnerable. Almost afraid, in a way. Of what, you aren't quite sure. But you aren't going to question him about it, not sure you'd even get an answer if you did.

"Okay." You try your best to pronounce the whole word, feeling it important to do so. "'M here." You say, trying your best to reassure whatever fears are currently nestled into that strange brain of his.

He suddenly turns onto his side and wraps his other arm around you as well, pulling you closer, your face in his chest and his face in your hair. The motion was quick, like he was in a hurry to do it. You relax completely, practically melting into him and the floor under you. You're completely surrounded by him and suddenly you want nothing more than to stay here for the rest of your life.

You nuzzle your face against his shirt as your eyelids start to droop. It's been a long day and the alcohol coursing through your system hasn't added to your energy at all. The last thing you hear before you fall asleep is Lancelot mumbling something that sounds like, "Smells nice." As he burrows his face further into your hair.

~*~

A/N: What do y'all think?? Please let me know!! I should have chapter 2 finished soon, there's going to be both a male!reader version of it and a female!reader version of it. Pronouns still aren't specified, but there's a certain part of the chapter that differs greatly depending on gender, tbh, so if you'd like to be tagged for the next chapter, let me know which version you'd like to be tagged for!! You can also ask to be tagged for both versions if you'd like to be!!! Thank you for reading!!!

~*~

Taglist:

@kalopsiakey

Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist!!!

#purple_strxnger #purple_strxnger_stories #strxngermasterlists #au #lancelot #lancelot x reader #4kota lancelot #4kota lancelot x reader #4kota #4kota fanfiction #4kota fanfic #4kota au #gn reader #lancelot x y/n

[branflakes82]

Happy birthday, Love

I wrote this for the most wonderful friend in the entire world! I hope you enjoy it!

It's Chris Evans and NSFW, so minors DNE!

Not beta'd, I own my mistakes. I don't own Chris or Trish, just love them both!

Warnings: p in v sex, oral (f recieving), anal....might be all

You felt the bed shift. What was Chris doing up at this time of the morning? Eyes hazy, you look around in the darkness. He’s standing at the foot of your bed, eyes hooded, staring at you. You know exactly what he’s thinking and your core heats, excited for what was to come. 

“It’s midnight, darling,” he whispers, never moving from his spot. With a small grin, you nod. It’s officially your day. Your birthday. Your time to shine. And you knew you would shine by the time he got through with you.

Sitting up so you could watch your boyfriend closer, you never take your eyes off him. You feel his eyes burning into yours. After what felt like an eternity of no one moving, just staring at one another, he finally crawls into your bed. His weight shifts the bed as he moves closer and closer to you, taking his time. Looking like a predator closing in on its prey, Chris pounces on you, literally. You laugh as he attacks you. 

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he huffs into your ear. You wrap your arms around his neck as he kisses from your ear, down your neck. You can’t help the groan that escapes your mouth as he nips at you, bringing chills over your body. 

“Oh, Christopher,” you barely whisper. His teeth scrape your tender skin and his hot tongue follows. The differentiating textures drive you crazy.

He takes his time warming you up with just his mouth. Leaving kisses, small bites and tantalizing licks all over your throat, promises of what’s to come. Chris finally moves his hand from holding himself up over you, to caress your cheek. His thumb roaming over your mouth, you lick at his digit and open up for him.

“Mmm, baby,”Chris moans as you suckle his thumb. Your tongue folds around him and he pulls back. “No, let me make you feel good. Let me love you,” he quietly says in your ear, chilling you and heating you up at the same time. 

His hand finally leaves your warm face and, agonizingly slow, makes its way down your throat and to your collarbone. His mouth follows, trailing soft kisses after dragging his nails over your skin. So slowly, Chris pulls at the straps of your nightie. You shrug your shoulders, helping the thin fabric fall. 

You still feel vulnerable, exposing yourself to Chris. But the way he looks at you, man, he makes you feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. He sits up more, taking his weight off your body. You whimper a little as his body weight leaves you, causing him to lean in to kiss you, just mini kisses to your forehead, eyes; all over your sweet face. As his soft, pillowy lips press into yours, his free hand cups your breast. He works you so sweetly, like this was the first time he’d ever seen you.

Chris breathes into your mouth as your nails dig into his shoulders. He’s getting just as worked up as you are. You arch into his hands as he massages your breast, his fingers like lightning against your cool skin. He breaks the kiss off quickly, just to move his mouth to your taught nipple. You feel yourself getting wetter with every move he makes.

He moves again, this time over you once more. Crouching on his knees and mouth on your chest, his other hand tugs at the hem of your night dress. You pull yourself off the bed enough for him to move the nightie from beneath you. His hand gently makes its way from your ass to your stomach, tickling you slightly. You coil away from his touch and suck in a breath. 

He reads your mind and grips your hip, his movements more aggressive this time. Chris removes his mouth from your breast and trails his tongue down your stomach. Moving quickly, he pulls you completely under him. You stare into his dark blue eyes as he takes you in. He slowly sucks in his bottom lip before covering your body with his. His lips crash hungrily into yours, shocking you with the need. Your nails dig into the nape of his neck as his hands roughly remove your panties. He leaves your nightie wrapped around your tummy but tugs at it with his teeth while his fingers climb back up your legs.

You moan deep as he nips at the soft skin of your tummy and lower until his mouth is on your most private place. Silently, you plead for him to continue. Chris looks into your eyes as his tongue splits your sweet spot. You barely hear him as your eyes roll back and you let your head fall to the pillow. He works you hard, hungrily. When you can finally move again, all you can do is grip his short hair. He scoots closer to you, causing you to open more for him, allowing him more access. He takes advantage of the closeness and replaces his tongue with two fingers.

You move in time with him, pulling him into you as his tongue circles your clit. His fingers curl and pump harder and faster as you get closer to the edge. Heat covers your body and you feel everything in you tightening, begging to come loose. Chris feels your readiness and gently sucks on your clit, sending you over the edge immediately. 

He doesn’t give you time to recover before you feel him moving. When you open your eyes he is on top of you, kissing your cheek, giving you praises. Meanwhile he has his cock in hand, rubbing it over your aching pussy. Roughly, he enters you. His girth stretches you in the most pleasurable way. You groan and arch as he fills you entirely. The pleasure is worth the pain. 

You wrap your legs around his waist as he fills you over and over. He breathes and moans in your ears as you dig your nails in his back, as far as you can reach. 

“Feels…so...good,” you mutter as best you could. Chris kisses your mouth and you can taste yourself on him. His beard was wet from you, but still scratchy against your skin. You love the friction on your mouth and in between your legs. As hard as he is grinding into you, you know you’ll be sore for days. But you love it.

He reaches for your hand and leads it in between your sweaty bodies. 

“Touch yourself for me. Cum with me,” he demands. Your eyes never leave him as he helps you rub yourself. It doesn’t take long before you feel your release building again, and judging by his hungry grunts and hard thrusts, he’s close himself.

You cry his name as hot cum fills you, your climax bringing him through his own release. You whimper when he finally moves, pulling out. Chris pulls you close as he lays beside you. 

“You never cease to amaze me, baby,” he sleepily mutters. You turn to him and kiss his nose as his eyes close. He wraps his thick arm around you and pulls you closer. “I love you so damn much.”

You can’t help but smile, “I love you more than that.” 

As you wake, you slowly realize you are alone. You aren’t in Chris’ arms anymore. You call his name as you make your way to the bathroom for a much needed shower.

“In here,” Chris calls from the front of the apartment. 

You smile as you feel the ache in your legs. You want him to shower with you, but that might be a little overkill, so you shower by yourself. You suck in breath through your teeth as the hot water scorches your beard burned thighs. Again you smile, remembering the midnight sex. You couldn’t help but touch yourself thinking of where his mouth had been. 

Shortly Chris walks into the bathroom. “Babe, I can’t believe you started without me.” He quickly removes his shorts and jumps in behind you. Grabbing the soap, he lathers it up good. “C’mere, love.”

First, he starts with your shoulders, gently washing you. Then he gets to your breasts, which he took a long time sudsing up and massaging. Turning you around he washes down your back and gently grabs your butt. He kisses the top of your head as his hands wind their way to your stomach and slowly down to your pussy. You reach around and grab his short hair as you back up into him. Shocked to find out he was already hard as a rock. You had to tease him a little, so you whine a little as you work your ass up and down his cock.

“Careful, you know how bad I love your ass….I might not be able to stop myself if you don’t stop. Please don’t stop,” he groans into your hair. Your hand leaves his head to travel down his side and then to his dick. He nibbles on your ear when you take him into your small hand. You play with him as he plays with you, getting you wet and sudsy. 

You had wanted to try anal with him, goodness knows he’s begged you, but your were always scared. But you decided since it was your special day, you should make it very special. So you arch your back more and guide his throbbing dick to your small entrance.

Chris’s breath catches in his throat. “You, are you sure,” he asks. It delighted you to know how happy he was. He lathers up more soap and coats his cock up good, while the other hand fingers your pussy and trails your juices to your ass. You take a deep breath as he starts to enter you.

You didn’t know what to expect, pain, of course, but would it be nice, too? Chris slowly enters you, allowing you time to accept his girth. As the head pops in, you suck in a harsh breath. It hurt, but it was for Chris, so you just grit your teeth. Can’t back down now. With every push, his hand is rubbing your clit, slow and gently. 

The pain and pleasure become one the farther he enters you. You hear yourself moaning before you even knew you had it in you. Chris peppers kisses to your head and cheek while his hand plays with your pussy and the other grips your hip.

Finally, he’s all the way in and you let out a deep sigh. “You good,” Chris asks before pulling back just to fill you up again. 

All you could mutter was “mmmmm” as he fucked your ass. He found a good rhythm and you pressed harder back into him. The pain was gone and you were enjoying yourself and you knew he was as well. He was groaning and grunting as you were building up to your own release.

You came crashing down and screaming his name. His fingers never slowed on your clit. It was so sensitive, but he didnt stop. Just as your second climax peaked, you felt him cum in you. Hot jets coated your insides. You felt so loved and complete at once. Chris turned you to face him and kissed you so passionately, you knew you were his good little girl. And after a long kiss, you both did actually shower.

“I have a surprise for you,” Chris admitted after you were fully clothed.

You giggle and wrap your arms around his waist. “A surprise? I wonder what it might be.” 

He kisses your forehead, “Nothing as spectacular as the surprise you just gave me, but I think I did good.” You raise your eyebrows as he leans down to kiss your lips. 

“You always do good, babe,” you say as he leads you into the kitchen. He laughs as he takes you to the oven where a horrible looking homemade pizza sits. You look up at him and burst out laughing. “Oh, honey! What did you do?”

“What? I think it looks great,” he smiles, grabbing a knife to cut it. “Although, I’m afraid it might be cold now.” 

You pick a pepperoni off the top and pop it in your mouth. “You did great, but why? You know I cook better than you?”

Chris looks at you and pouts. “I can cook, just not good,” he finally smiled. “I know you love pizza and I wanted to try to make it for you for your birthday surprise! So, are you surprised?” He hands you a slice and you sniff it before taking a bite.

“Mmhmm,” you say, covering your full mouth. You watch as Chris takes a bite out of his own piece.

“Yeah,” he admits. “We may have to call in a pizza. Sorry, love.”

You rub his hand, “Nothing to be sorry for, I think it’s perfect. A little weird being cold and burned, but perfect.” After eating you smile and wipe your mouth. “So what do you want to do now?”

Chris’ face lights up, “You, love. Just you.” You smile as you get up to hug him, but he surprises you; picking you up bridal style to carry you to the couch. “I’m going to give you your birthday present….in every room of this place.” Heat courses through your body knowing that he is going to make good on that promise.

@trishevans

#happy birthday love #my fic #chris evans #chris evans smut #branflakes82

[pascalpvnk]

glimpse of us

pairing: sarah miller & joel miller & ellie williams

summary: sarah was his sun. ellie was his moon. both equally beautiful in their own ways, one more sought out than the other in the darkness of joel’s mind.

word count: 647

warnings: angst, major major spoilers for tlou part II/season two, survivors guilt, mentions of insecurity, mentions of alcoholism, mentions of religion, possibly ooc, very open for interpretation.

a/n: joel's thoughts are italicized. i'm sorry for the pain this may cause. self beta'd, all mistakes are my own. based on 'glimpse of us' by joji. dividers by @saradika-graphics

She’s written in the walls. Swirls of pink and purple paint contrasts the similarly beige hue that matched his living room back in Austin. Joel’s eyes must’a been deceiving him. 

The remnants of a solo movie night shifted to his similar ones with his sweet girl, every one of them ending with her curled up in his lap. She would murmur in her sleep, her accent heavier than she typically allowed. 

Joel feels immense guilt for surviving this long without her. Looking down at his lap, there isn’t a mane of curls covering her beautiful face. It’s just the denim of the jeans he fell asleep in the night prior. The dark leather of his watch feels tighter on his wrist for a moment. 

His arm timidly turns. The glare of the late morning sunshine’s reflection pierces his vision. Pointed glass shards attempt to cover the battered, rusted, stilled clock hands. The battery gave out over a decade ago, but he can still hear it tick tick tick, another constant reminder of his beloved.

I’m not her, you know.

But he also feels the weighted guilt that he cannot let go and give his kiddo the father she needs. The honest, do good dad that doesn’t have to watch her from afar, doing anything in her power to be away from him. Not that he deserves more with all he’s done for himself all these years. 

Her deep greens and red splatters taint the pretty pastels on his walls. They’re not the same person, he constantly has to remind himself. The part that comes with more difficulty some nights being and that’s okay.

How can he have screwed up this bad? His first was attached to his hip, goofing around with him, gave him the time of day and then some. But she was fourteen.

He doesn’t know how to conquer mid to late teens. It doesn’t make him feel any less of a failure. Because this may be new for him, but he damn well knows this distance is abnormal. Naively, he’s still hopeful that she’ll forgive him. He’s hopeful for a second chance at what he lost rather than to accept it and move forward. 

We’re done.

Little by little, Joel’s whiskey migrates away from his coffee corner. He lets himself enjoy the natural, full boldness of his mug, lets himself live awake rather than his comforting numbness. Yet still punishing himself with the headaches he endures when his vice slips into his nightly routine instead. Failure. Failure. Failure. 

Nights when he slips back into his lost faith, kneeling and silently whispering to his fallen angel above. Begging for her guidance, her love once more.

I miss you, babygirl. 

He yearns for her wit, her sarcasm, creativity and passion used for what she loved. He finds in a different form with her, this time being used against him.

Her once genuine laughter turned to pitiful chuckles and ultimately to nothing. Multiple conversations with his sister-in-law ending with everything’s fine, it’s just a phase. But she sees him lying through his teeth, the dull heartbreak his eyes hold. Everyone does. 

Everyone witnesses his soul crumple and turn to dust in the church. Pushed away by her once more but only this time verbally. He feels the burning gazes watching his defeated form, tail between his legs as he retreats to his home, finding comfort and solidarity in his hand painted mug. Pure black coffee. He deserves to feel this weight. Deserves to stay up all night with this pain.

He expects her to yell at him once more as he sees her come into the dim light, porch rail creaking as she finds herself a spot near him, not next to him. 

“I would like to try.”

Tears flood his vision. Joel got his dying wish. Another chance to have a glimpse of her once more.

to stay up to date on when I post fics, follow @pascalpvnk-writes and turn on notifications! i hope you enjoyed xx

#my writing #fic: glimpse of us #sarah miller #joel miller #ellie williams #joel miller angst #angst

[makeadealwithdean]

a new side of me - e.m.

part 2 to this, smut, MDNI, 18+only, fem!reader, friends to lovers, spanking, fingering

my masterlist || Ao3 || beta'd by my lovely @wayward-dreamer, @writercole, and @evergreencowboy (this one is for you, miss girl)

“Uhhhhmmmm” is all you can say at first. It feels like your brain is short-circuiting for a few seconds, cause yeah, you’d been hoping that Eddie would reciprocate your feelings, but nothing had prepared you for what he’s saying right now with you on his lap. 

You swallow and try to weigh the pros and cons of each option, since Eddie’s staring you down, waiting for an answer with this cocky-ass smirk on his face. You’re well-aware you’re not particularly talented at controlling your own orgasm, and you know if you were to choose the getting-off-on-his-leg-but-he-controls-when option, it probably wouldn’t go well. Which leaves one option. 

Taking a spanking. A spanking? From your best friend? Holy shit, were you really about to say this out-fucking-loud? 

“Uhhhh,” you say again, ‘cause sure, you’re normally fearless — totally at ease, especially with Eddie, but only someone incapable of feeling anything at all would be calm at this moment. “I guess… the first one…” you mutter, and your voice kinda trails off.

“Hmm?” Eddie says, cupping his ear like he didn’t hear you, when you know damn well he did. “What was that, princess?”

“I said, the first one,” you grit your teeth and force the words out, absolutely refusing to look him in the eye, but you really should’ve known that wouldn’t fly.

“No, no,” he practically scolds you. “I wanna hear you say it.”

“Edddieeee,” you whine, already humiliated, not to mention horny as fuck — plus confused as to why you’re enjoying him embarrassing you so much. “C’monnn, I don’t wanna…” 

“You can tap out at any time,” he reminds you, “but if there’s any part of you that wants this to continue,” he pauses for dramatic effect, “you’re gonna hafta say it.”

“Ughhhh,” you groan, but god, curse your inability to resist him. “Fine, I — I… want you to… spank me.” 

Eddie smirks, and you roll your eyes big time. You’re staring at the ceiling when his hand grips your jaw, and suddenly, you’re looking right into his eyes. He holds you there, his fingers tapping your cheeks harshly whenever you dare to look away from him. “Oh, you shouldn’t have done that, hmm…” He phrases it like a question, but there’s no hint of it in his tone. Sprawled on the couch — you in his lap — he exudes confidence, like he’s done this a million times, and even though you know him better than almost anyone, you can’t help but question if he’s got a hobby on the side that he’s failed to mention to you. “Thought you were smarter than that, Y/N. Thought you knew better than to get snarky with me.”

You shouldn’t say anything. God, you shouldn’t say anything. He’s clearly getting off on this, and anything you could possibly say would almost definitely make it worse for you. “It’s never hurt me before,” you sass, willingly looking him in the eye now.

“Oh-ho-ho,” Eddie laughs and hooks his arm around your waist. “That’s an interesting choice of words, darling, ‘cause it’s sure as hell about to hurt you now.” 

Before you even have time to think a response, his other hand finds your hip, and suddenly, you’re face to face with the couch cushions. You let out a squeal as he practically manhandles you, moving your hips this way and that until you’re situated flat across his lap. Your elbows press into the seat of the couch — the only things keeping you from face-planting into the cushions — and your ass is propped in the air, held there by Eddie’s knee underneath it. 

Now you really feel like a naughty child, and the feeling only heightens when Eddie rubs his hands over the globes of your ass. It takes everything in you not to let out a whine, but you pinch your mouth closed, and the sound sticks in your throat. Maybe Eddie notices, because he chuckles darkly, but when you swallow nervously, he pauses, his tone softening slightly, “You sure?”

You nod.

“Good.” A pause, and a silence. You sit quietly, holding your breath, waiting for something, anything, to happen.

Smack! You jolt a little as the first hit lands on the soft skin of your ass. The hit isn’t very hard at all, but an embarrassing squeak escapes your lips before you’re able to press them together. You pray that somehow Eddie didn’t hear that, but he does, of course, and he lets you know with a scoff. “Oh, Y/N, I barely tapped you. You talk a lot for someone so sensitive.”

You blush at his words, and turn your head towards the rest of the room, pressing your cheek into the couch cushion, so Eddie can’t see the rosy flush of your skin. “Didn’t hurt,” you mumble, knowing you’ll probably regret saying anything at all soon. “Just surprised me.”

“Oh, it just surprised you?” Eddie mimics your tone with just a hint of sass. “Well, in that case, maybe I’ll need to use a little more force than I thought, hmm?”

You don’t respond, and it’s just as well, because Eddie’s hand comes down again with a distinctly louder Smack! You jerk again as it lands, definitely harder this time, and you tuck your mouth into the crook of your elbow, a preventative measure to avoid giving him anymore opportunities to point out how weak you are for him. 

“Nothing to say now?” Eddie muses. “That’s a good girl.” He rubs out the sting with a big flat palm and runs his other hand gently down your spine until a little of the tension starts to melt from your body. You’re almost ashamed at how easily his praise and soothing touches calm you, but he doesn’t give you much time to dwell on it before —

Smack! Smack! Smack!

His three hits get firmer in succession, and even though they happen quickly, your legs can’t help but kick up by the third. 

“Ow!” You squeal, instinctively trying to crawl off of his lap. “Eddie!” But Eddie just clamps his arm around your waist and lets you struggle until you decide to be still. “That fucking hurt,” you whine, looking back at him.

“It’s supposed to,” Eddie says, raising his eyebrows at you in faux-shock. You pout at him, but lay back down, determined to wait it out. Surely, he wouldn’t spank you for that long. 

Resting your head on your folded arms, you bite down gently on the skin of your bicep. It helps to muffle the growing squeals and cries that threaten to escape your mouth every time, but between the swats that Eddie’s raining down getting both harder and faster, soon even that isn’t enough to stop your noises.

Smack! “Eddie, please!” The hits are becoming unbearable, and yet, you know you’ve never been wetter in your life. You can feel your own juices start to roll down the inside of your thighs, and you desperately want to press your thighs tight together. But Eddie has different ideas. That fucker. 

You squeeze your thighs together, smushing and spreading the slick over your rapidly heating skin, for a few seconds at most before Eddie lands a hard, well-placed slap to the backs of your thighs. He wrenches your legs open just enough so that you’re unable to gain any friction where you need it most. 

“Ah!” You cry out as Eddie drags a single digit just barely through your folds, gathering some of your juices on the tip of his finger. 

“Look at you,” Eddie tuts with a shit-eating grin. “Just dripping. And all from getting your ass spanked by your best friend? Whatta naughty girl.” He loudly sucks his finger clean. “Oh, but you taste so good, baby.”

Baby. The use of the pet name instantly puts you more at ease, and you let your body melt into Eddie’s lap again, basking in his words, despite how red your face had become hearing them.

True to form, Eddie doesn’t let you relax for long. He uses his thumbs to spread your cheeks up and out just slightly, before blowing gently on your wet cunt. “Ooh, fuck!” Your head whips around in shock. Your eyes meet Eddie’s as he raises a cocky brow to go along with his still-pursed lips. The cold air continues, and you’re entirely at his mercy — not that you weren’t before, but his grip on your ass is stronger than you expected. And something about being entirely exposed to him makes you whimper and squirm.

He taps your folds gently with two fingers before letting your cheeks fall back into place, groaning at the way they jiggle. “Mmm, your pussy is just as pretty as I imagined, Y/N. Can’t wait to sink my fingers into that.”

“Mmm,” you whine and wiggle. “Yeah? Please?”

“Oh, that’s something you’re interested in, hmm?”

You nod furiously, all pride and embarrassment forgotten. 

“Uh-uh, ask nicely, Y/N,” Eddie scolds gently, hands roaming over your still-burning ass. 

“Please, touch me, Eddie. Want it so bad,” you whine, breathless.

“That’s a good girl,” Eddie breathes, trailing his fingers up your spine. “I’m gonna spank you five more times, and this time you’re gonna count. If you can stay still and keep count for me, then I’m gonna make you come, hmm?”

“Yes, Eddie.”

“Good,” he gives your ass a few firm taps. “Ready, sweets?”

You nod, resting your chin back on your folded arms and bracing yourself for his hand.

Silence hangs in the air, and then — Smack!

“One!” You yelp, your feet kicking up at the force behind the hit. That was definitely one of the harder ones. You set your jaw and prepare for the ones to come. 

Smack! “Oww, two, Eddie!” You cry out, feeling tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. You sniffle, and Eddie rubs a little of the pain away with his open palm, before taking his hands away. You’re waiting again.

SMACK! 

“Fuck! Three!” That was the hardest hit yet, and the tears you’d been trying so hard to hold back start to spill over as your breath turns to gasps. Shit, it hurt, and yet, there was definitely more than a hint of pleasure mixed in with the pain. You wonder how Eddie had known you’d like this when you didn’t even know it yourself.

“Two more, princess,” Eddie says, softly running his hand through your hair. “You’re doing so good for me.” 

You nod sniffling. God, you can’t wait to come. You don’t think you’ve ever been this close to release without ever being touched.

Eddie rubs and kneads your pretty, cherry-red ass, and just from your breathing, he knows you’ll need a release soon, so he takes pity on you. 

Smack! SMACK! He finishes the last two pops off quick and hard. A cry forces its way from your mouth as you gasp, “Four, Five!” Your hand flies back to your bruised cheeks, and you rub the skin in a pathetic attempt to ease the sting. 

Eddie wipes the tear tracks away from your face and hushes you gently, “Shh, shh, it’s okay, baby. No more. No more. You did so good for me. Who knew you had it in you, hmm?”

“In me?” You hiccup out the question, not entirely sure what he means.

“Yeahh,” he coos softly, effectively calming your little tremors. “My best girl— a secret slut, aren’tcha? Who knew you were so kinky, Y/N?”

You sniff and giggle, hiding your face in your arms again. Eddie chuckles too, and you stick your ass up and shake it a little in a silent request. You’re determined not to give him another reason to spank you again, but you’ve never been this turned on in your life. 

“Please?” You ask him in a small voice, opening your legs just enough to get his attention.

“Ahh, my sweet girl wants to come, is that it, baby?” Eddie coaxes you into a sitting position so he can look at you. He desperately needs to see your face for this part. You hiss and whine at the touch of the denim on your sore bottom, so he settles you so you’re leaning against the arm and couch cushions with your legs spread open to him.

He hums appreciatively at the way your pussy glistens. “Mmm, look at you all spread out for me. So pretty, sweets. Lean forward for me— let’s take this off.” He tugs at the cropped tee you’d forgotten you were still wearing. You let him take it over your head, and he groans again at your lack of a bra.

“Fuck, Y/N. You’re incredible.” Eddie’s eyes traverse your body, now completely bare to him, and you squirm, trying to resist the urge to cover yourself. He seems to notice your hesitance and presses gentle kisses to the insides of your bent knees. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, catching your jaw with a gentle hand so that you’re forced to look him in the eye. “I’m serious. I’ve wanted you from the second we met.”

“Really?” You ask him. He nods, “Yeah, have you seen you? You’re sexy as fuck!”

You laugh at his facial expression and relax into his touch. This was Eddie, your best friend. Any self-consciousness you’d developed melts away. “Now,” you demand. “I believe I was promised a reward?”

“Oh, excuse me,” Eddie barks out a laugh. “I didn’t know you were suddenly in charge. Oh, wait,” he raises his eyebrow at you, “you aren’t…” He lets the silence linger, “But I did promise to make you come for takin’ that spanking like a champ, so you better hang on for this.”

You swallow hard at his devilish grin, and then he’s kissing you. A perfect mix between soft and hard, sensual, and oh God, he tastes like the weed he’d probably been smoking earlier that day. And for some reason, you like the taste. You don’t even smoke, but maybe because it’s just so very Eddie.

You kiss him back, and he takes advantage of the parting of your lips to slip his tongue inside. Naturally, you resist letting him take charge, but that doesn’t last long. Clearly, Eddie’s tongue is good for more than yammering on about his latest DnD campaign, and it’s for that reason only that you submit to him with a sigh.

“Mmm,” he moans into your mouth, his hands inching down from where they’re softly cupping your face. He palms your tits, catching and rolling your nipples in between his fingers. You arch up into his hands, and God, is he anxious to make you repeat that. Eddie breaks the kiss gently to press tiny pecks along your jaw and down your neck. You whine, chasing his mouth with yours. You just wanna taste him again so badly, and he chuckles softly at your neediness, pausing to suck a hickey into the skin where your neck meets your shoulder.

“C’mon, baby,” he whispers against your ear. “Thought you wanted to come so fucking badly?”

He’s teasing you, and you know it, but you hadn’t realized you’d love running your nails down his back this much, and kissing him is infinitely better than you imagined — but the heat in your core is aching, and fuck, you want him there too.

“Fuck, Eddie,” you breathe. “Fuck— need you so fucking bad. Please, fuck me, please— Eds, want your cock so bad.”

Eddie inhales sharply at your words, like he wasn’t expecting that from you, but he ruts harder against your naked folds, groaning at the momentary relief. “F-fuck, princess — shit, you really want that?”

You nod frantically into his hair, nails scrambling down his back as his thumb finds and begins to circle your clit slowly. Eddie’s panting now too, “Next time, baby — n-next time, I promise. God, I wanna fuck you so bad, but just — just let me take care of you tonight, ‘kay? Okay, sweet girl?”

“Yes, Eddie,” you don’t fight him on it. His fingers feel too damn good, trailing down to your still-weeping entrance, “Shit, right there— please!”

“Yeah? Gonna let me fuck you on my fingers, hmm?” Eddie sinks a single digit into you, and it slides in with no resistance, along with a second. “Shit — you’re so tight, pretty girl. Must be fucking close already, aren’tcha?”

“Yeah, yes, ‘m so fuckin’ close,” you practically sob with relief as he pumps his fingers in and out, curving and pressing the spot that has tears tracing back down your cheeks. He thumbs your clit with a matching rhythm, and you arch again into his hand. Your hips match the pace he sets until you’re humping his hand.

Eddie tosses his head back with a groan at the sight. This was so much better than his fantasy. “I gotcha, you’re so good f’me. Jesus, that’s a girl. You just come whenever, sweets.”

You were so close already, but his rambling praise is sending you hurtling towards the edge faster than you thought possible. “M’gonna— Eddie, m’gonna— come—”

“That’s it, baby. That’s it. Come for me, Y/N,” Eddie gasps into your neck, and thank God, keeps his rhythm constant. 

Stars are appearing on the edge of your vision, you feel the coil snap, and you’re coming with a scream “EDDIE— shit! Fuck— ohmygoddd—” you’re seeing white and feeling nothing. Except him. 

Eddie engulfs you in his arms and is grunting along with you, “Yessss, good girl. That’s my baby. So sexy, Y/N. God.”

He gently pumps his fingers until your walls stop clenching around them, and your vision stops spinning. He only slowly pulls them out when you’ve flopped back against the couch cushions, and your breathing evens out again.

“Fuck, Eddie,” you say, lifting your head to look at him. Only then, do you realize he’s 1) still fully clothed and 2) palming his obviously-painfully hard cock through the crotch of his jeans.

“Shit, c’mere, Eds,” you motion him forward just a bit from where he’s sat back on his heels. He inches closer, and you waste no time in undoing his belt buckle and jeans and pulling out his cock.

“S’okay,” he’s insisting, his cheeks still flushed from his efforts to get you off. “I can just go fix it in the bathroom…” 

But you’ve already wrapped a hand around him and pulled him into another searing kiss. “Shut the fuck up, Eds. Want you to come on my tits,” you say against his ear.

Eddie pulls back, looking at you like you’ve read his goddamn mind. He yanks his shirt off too and pushes his jeans and boxers halfway down his thighs, “Shit, y-yeah, okay.”

You smirk at his lack of protest, leaning back and pressing your tits together for him. “You’re so fucking hot, Eddie. Always fuckin’ loved those tattoos—” 

Eddie’s kneeling, hovering over you, one hand supporting his weight beside your head on the arm of the couch. He spits into his palm, spreading the mixture of saliva and pre-cum over his length. Shit, he’s huge. You can’t wait to get him inside you. Next time. 

His rings are flashing as he pumps his hand over his dick, paying special attention to the flared, velvety head, and you take mental notes for the future. Eddie moans at the sight of you spread out all pretty for him, and you answer, groaning at the wrecked expression on his face. 

“Come for me, baby,” you murmur to him, looking up at him from under thick lashes. “Wanna see you all over me, need it so bad.”

“Uh…huh…” Eddie pants with the rhythm of his palm. “Fuck, baby. Shit— I’m gonna, gonna—” He comes with a loud grunt, hand still pumping as his cock shoots thick ropes of cum from your collarbone down to your naval. His eyes stay fixated on you the entire time, watching his come splatter across your soft skin. “Fuckkk,” he rasps, breathing hard as he comes down from his high. “Shit, princess. My cum looks even better on you than I thought.”

You laugh at the goofy grin on his face, and he laughs too, dropping a kiss on your forehead before getting up and sauntering off, now butt-ass naked. “Eddie?” you ask confused, as he turns down the hallway. “Where’re you going?”

“Stay right there,” he calls back to you over his shoulder.

He’s back in a few seconds with a washcloth. “Oh,” you hum, relaxing. “That’s sweet.”

Eddie mops his spunk off your abdomen with the cloth he’s wet with warm water, cracking on of his trademark smirks. “What, you thought I was just gonna leave you here like this?” He snorts at the idea, and you smack him lightly on the arm.

“No!” you defend yourself laughing. “I just didn’t know where you were going! Shut up—”

He shuts you up instead by dropping the washcloth to the floor and pressing a kiss to your lips. Not needy or aggressive, like some of his other kisses, just— perfect.

You blink as he pulls away, giggling, “What, you think that’s how you’re gonna keep me from talking now?”

Eddie’s not giggling though, just smiling softly, a much tenderer look in his eyes now, “Yeah, I do think that. If that’s okay with you? That– I keep doing that, I mean.”

He’s serious. You huff out a laugh of relief, “Yeah, Eds. It’s more than okay with me if you ‘keep doing that.’ If that’s your way of asking me out, that is.”

Eddie nods immediately, before you’ve even finished talking, “Yeah, yeah. Sorry— yeah, that’s what I mean. I wanna go out with you.” His brown doe eyes look hopeful, and it’s all you can do to answer him with words, instead of kissing him again.

“Yes,” you smile, “I’ll go out with you.” He breathes a sigh of relief, and then, you kiss him again. “You did just spank the shit outta me, y’know? I think it’d be weird if I didn’t wanna go out with you.”

“Well,” he says primly, shaking his hair back from his face. “I didn’t want to assume.”

“You didn’t wanna—” you laugh aloud at his ridiculousness. “Just shut up and hold me.”

Eddie ducks his head in a mock bow at your demand, “As you wish, milady.”

He gathers you into his lap, and you rest your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes and inhaling his scent. He pulls the blanket from the back of the couch over you both, and squeezes you tight. You can’t help but think about how this happened. Seducing Eddie actually worked.

Tags (if you're crossed out, i couldn't tag you!)

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[bluesprng]

( ♱ ) don't be scared.

muse: ot5, txt rated: pg13 + trigger warnings, i suppose. requested: yes a/n: enjoy, don't enjoy - i don't really care ♡ beta'd but she's real biased towards my writing. ♡ txt when you're triggered.

( ♡ ) yeonjun //

listening to your boyfriend rant about practice, you were simply watching and nodding along, letting him vent. he didn't realize how into it he was getting or how angry he seemed, so when his hands came up in a dramatic gesture, you flinched away. his rant came to an abrupt stop and he stared at you, eyes wide and lips still parted from the last part of his rant. he was trying to register what happened while you straightened and cleared your throat, trying not to make it so obvious.

'did.. did i scare you?'

the was his voice came out made your heart break a little and you didn't want to nod but you did, you wouldn't lie to him. 'you were just getting a little into it and i could see how mad you were and.. it's not you i'm scared of, it just brought up a lot of bad memories.'

whatever he was mad about was entirely wiped from his memory and he was quickly moving to wrap you up in his arms - of course, after he made sure you were alright with him touching you. the idea of you ever feeling unsafe around him didn't sit well with him at all but he knew it wasn't specifically because of him; that didn't make it any better.

'i'm so sorry, baby,' he mumbled, squishing you tight into his frame, 'i should have paid more attention to what i was doing. you know i would never even think of thinking of doing that, right?'

he was sure you'd probably heard the same from the person who caused this but he hoped one day you would be able to fully believe it.

you just hummed in response, head tucking against him to find solace in the thoughts suddenly swarming in your head.

( ♡ ) soobin //

soobin did his best to remember the things that made you uncomfortable and he prided himself in being good at that, never wanting you to feel such icky things because of him. however, as you were trying to get a cup down from the cabinet, that slipped his mind for a moment.

he didn't make much noise as he came up behind you to grab it, doing it in a nonchalant manner like he'd done for the members before and that was his mistake. you weren't one of his members and he should have remembered you weren't good with people behind you.

the moment you registered his frame, you jerked and pushed him back, an automatic response learned from your ex; you never felt safe with someone so close behind you. as soobin stumbled, he coughed a bit from the shove to his chest and furrowed his brow, hands up to show he wasn't trying to do anything.

'sorry! i should have said something and checked if it was okay,' he got out, straightening himself.

you, having finally cleared up reality, rushed over to make sure he was okay. 'shit, bin, are you okay?' you asked, gently touching his chest with a small frown. 'i'm so sorry.'

he shook his head and showed you a smile. 'don't be sorry, it was entirely my fault. i forgot and you had every right to react that way.' soobin couldn't let you take the blame on how it unfolded, despite the dull ache in his chest, he knew it was something you were struggling with.

when he saw your lips parting to argue, he shook his head and offered a pat to you own. 'do you need help?'

( ♡ ) beomgyu //

despite how aware he was ninety percent of the time about what was going on around him, beomgyu became absorbed in videos, games or reading quite easily and became oblivious to the entire world. this time, his attention was being held by some weird crafting video on youtube that he'd stumbled upon in some way or the other.

you, on the other hand, had been trying to get his attention for a good ten minutes before it started to bother you. your ex had a tendency to ignore you when he was angry, punishing you by making it seem like you didn't exist to him and a lot of those moments were flooding back to your mind. you tried telling yourself it was okay, you'd done nothing wrong and your boyfriend wasn't the type. was he? had you done something wrong?

biting down on your lip, you decided not to try and bother him anymore, sinking out to the living room. yeonjun was settled on the couch, watching some drama you'd never heard of and his head lifted at the sound of you shutting the door behind you. it only took a couple of seconds for him to register the hurt expression and teary eyes, causing him to get up and move across the room to you.

'y/n? what's wrong?'

his hands settled on your upper arms, looking over you to make sure you were okay as you took a breath so you could speak.

'i-i was trying to talk to gyu but he wasn't paying attention and i know he's watching something, we all know he can get a little oblivious when he gets into something and i know he isn't doing it on purpose but it reminded me of.. you know.. him.. and i started to panic and i didn't want to bother him and--'

yeonjun cut you off from your rant, taking a second to process what you'd even said before furrowing his brow. 'hey, it's alright,' he smiled, patting your arm, 'i know it's hard to deal with and adjust after.. those types of things but outside of that, which i know sounds worse, you know he would never do that. he's just dumb.'

chuckling, you reached up to rub your eyes. 'i know, i just feel like a broken record when i get upset over things.'

'no one sees it that way, trust me. everyone's been through one thing or the other,' he waved a dismissive hand and stepped past you to open the door, 'gyu? get off your phone and pay attention to y/n before i beat your ass.'

you watched as he leaned into the room and bit back a giggle, beomgyu pushing past him after a moment to get to you. 'my baby,' he chimed, automatically hugging onto you and nuzzling into your cheek. 'i'm sorry, i wasn't paying attention.. you didn't have to have him threaten my life, though.'

your eyes rolled. 'threaten your life..? i just.. didn't want to bother you with it.'

the brunette smiled, layering a couple kisses over your lips. 'it's not a bother! nothing that upsets you is a bother.. just hit me next time, okay?'

( ♡ ) taehyun //

'i don't see why you're so upset.. it was only like, two hours.'

taehyun stared at you blankly for a moment before taking a deep breath, thinking before he spoke. 'you mean the fact i didn't know where you were..? i didn't even know you were going out. i got home and you were gone, not answering your phone. how was i suppose to react?'

you frowned. 'i'm not a child, i'm allowed to go out, tae.'

'for fucks sake, i'm not saying you aren't! but it would be nice to know where you are now and again, don't you realize how dangerous things are nowadays? or am i in the wrong for caring, now??'

he hadn't seen the way you flinched when he pinched the bridge of his nose, eyebrows pulling together in frustration. you didn't realize you were crying until you had to sniff, hands coming up to wipe away the tears quickly. that, he noticed.

'i didn't..' he began, realizing he'd raised his voice at you but he didn't move, knowing he would only make it worse if he got too close, 'i don't care about you going out, love.. i'm not trying to make you feel like a child or like i need to know everything, i didn't even care where you went.. i would have just liked to known you were going out at all. i'm sorry if that came off some other way, i was just worried and the world is a shitshow right now. you weren't answering and i started to get worried.'

he took a minute before he spoke again, reaching out to offer you his hand. you looked at it, debating on if you should or not before taking it, moving to hug around his neck tightly. you didn't have to say anything for him to realize he'd fucked up, your frame having the slightest tremble to it as he hugged around your waist.

'i'm sorry for raising my voice, i didn't mean to and i should have thought it over before i even opened my mouth. i was scared and.. i shouldn't have taken that out on you.' he mumbled, pressing a couple kisses to the side of your head.

( ♡ ) hueningkai //

roaming around the kitchen to prepare food for everyone, you hummed to yourself, setting a stack of plates on the counter next to the glasses. it didn't take long before your boyfriend strolled in to catch your waist from behind, just wanting to watch as you worked.

the cute, domestic scene didn't last too long though as you stepped back and he didn't register fast enough to follow; this ended with you bumping one of the glasses and it crashing to the ground. you were oblivious to the way he sidestepped and kind of lead you away from the glass, only focused on the comment he made.

'ah.. y/n~ clumsy as ever.' of course it was a joke, especially coming from the clumsiest person in the house. he could breathe and something would break. this didn't register to you at all as you began to tear up.

'i-i'm so sorry, i'll clean it up!' you finally got out, clearly panicking as you crouched to pick up the bigger pieces, 'i'll replace it, i promise!'

it only took your raised voice to get the others attention, soobin poking his head into the room. 'is everything okay?' kai couldn't react fast enough at that point, quickly catching your arm to help you stand back up. soobin had fully entered and was looking between you both and the glass.

'i was distracting her while she was cooking and a glass got broke because i didn't move,' kai answered with a frown, taking the big pieces of glass from you to set on the counter. 'but.. i'm not sure..' he trailed off, not entirely on the up and up about your react. 'baby, it's just a glass.. it's okay,' he finally said.

'go talk to her and i'll clean it up,' the leader nodded, already making his way to the broom, 'and he's right, it's just a glass.. pretty sure we got them at the dollar store.' he shrugged with a small laugh in hopes to make you feel better.

kai seconded the comment and lead you to the living room, onto the couch before crouching in front of you. 'you okay, baby? what's wrong?'

your hands were covering your face, trembling a bit as you tried to calm down and make yourself realize you weren't in that situation anymore. when you finally looked up, you were met with the pitiful view of kai looking lost, confused and a little panicked.

'when, uhm.. my ex and i were together.. i accidently broke one of his bowls because i slipped,' you began, mumbling, 'he got really angry with me and.. and that was the first time he hit me so, i just, i panicked and all i saw in my head was him getting angry.'

the latter's eyebrows pulled together as he frowned. 'that bastard,' he answered much to your surprise considering you'd never heard him use such words in the time you'd know him. 'he'll get what's coming to him one day.. but, that's beside the point. i know it's scary when you've been through something like that but i doubt i could even get angry at you, i'm pretty sure it's impossible? i know you can't just tell yourself that and it'll make it better, but! i'll do everything i can to prove that to you, okay? mistakes happen, things get broken. it'll be okay and no one.. no one will ever have the chance to treat you like that again, okay?'

#txt things #txt reactions #txt scenarios #txt imagines #txt #soobin #soobin x reader #yeonjun #yeonjun x reader #beomgyu #beomgyu x reader #taehyun #taehyun x reader #hueningkai #hueningkai x reader

[the-little-ewok]

So, I hear you're taking prompts 👀🤭

If no one's asked (and you feel inspired), maybe you could try "slowly kissing down the body" with either Santi or Poe? (If that's then, maybe the tummy kisses instead?). Please and thank youuuu 🙏❤️

(Im)Patience

Santiago Garcia X F!Reader

Rating : E / 18+ for sexual content

Wordcount : 900 (ISH)

Warnings : Consensual use of restraints, talk of cum eating, mentions of edging, mentions of face sitting, mentions of PIV, marking/love bites, if you squint - mild sub!Santi, mild!Dom reader, mentions of Dom!Santi

Prompt/Summary : Kissing slowly down their body / Teasing Santiago until he breaks with little body kisses

A/N : Thank you for the prompt! I hope you enjoy a little Santi spice since your Neighbours fic put me in such a Santi feels mood! ;)

Un-beta'd because chaos is life. Apologies for any mistakes. It's midnight here.

The metal headboard creaks worryingly as Santiago tugs at his bonds, and you relish in the little mewl of pleasure he gives that accompanies the noise. You finish sucking a mark just above his collarbone, as his hands twist against the soft silk scarf binding him to the bed, his legs shifting restlessly beneath your weight as you sit back to admire him — his skin covered in a light sheen of sweat, pupils blown wide, lips kiss swollen, chest heaving with panted breaths.

It was so rare for him to give up complete control this way, to relinquish it to you, to allow you to take care of him in the way you know he needs. It makes your heart swell with the knowledge of the trust he's placed in you.

Although you can't help but wander if now he's starting to regret it, after who knows how long of soft touches, kisses, teasing laps of your tongue, bringing him to the edge, just to stop before he reaches his peak, and then to do it all over again.

"Hermosa, please," he groans, hips rutting up against you as you lean down to begin another trail of slow kisses down his body. "This is unfair."

You grin. Santiago was loosing his patience.

But drawing the little desperate sounds of pleasure from him was so much fun. And in part, you suppose, a little revenge for every time he had you in the same position, begging for release as he enjoyed the moment. Now you finally understood the appeal.

"All good things come to those who wait," you tease in a sing-song voice, unmoved by his begging.

Santi huffs with annoyance, flinging his head back against the pillows, dramatically growling something in Spanish you don't quite catch, but it sounds like a thinly veiled threat.

In all fairness you were dragging this out now, going back to placing tender kisses against his chest and neck, leaving little love marks in your wake, all while his hard cock twitched against your stomach, desperate for more attention. You'll pay for this later no doubt, but honestly, that's what you're counting on.

You shift your weight, moving down to litter soft kisses against his chest, before you circle your tongue over his peaked nipple.

Santi grunts out a low curse, his hands once more pulling at the makeshift restraint. If he really wanted out, he only had to say the word, but for all his complaints, Santi seems content to enjoy himself, at least at the moment.

"Tell me what you want," you whisper, your lips ghosting against his skin, echoing words he's so often used on you.

"You. Want you," he gasps as you nip at his side with your teeth, leaving him another mark.

You hum, raising your hand and allowing your fingers to barely brush against his weeping cock, causing Santi to give out a strangled moan that shoots straight to your core. He lifts his hips as you remove your hand once more, trying to chase your touch. You click your tongue in dissaproval, and shake your head at him.

"Be specific. Use your words, baby." You catch the look on his face as you repeat words he's whispered in your ear many times. His eyes hold a mixture of pride, impatience and something a little darker that makes you swallow hard, pushing down the thought of untying his wrists then and there.

He holds your gaze, steadily, defiantly, barely even blinking as he tells you exactly what he wants.

"I want to fuck your mouth, then I want to fuck your sweet pussy, fill you up until you can't take any more. Then after that, baby," he growls, his voice deliciously low, "I want you to sit on my face while I lick out every last drop of cum."

You swallow hard, your pussy clenching around nothing at the image that fills your head.

Santi smirks up at you, clearly knowing he has the upper hand, even in his prone position.

Bastard.

Your resolve hardens. Now you are going to drag this out even longer.

"Hmm we can do that…when we are done with giving you a lesson in patience." Leaning back down you continue to trail soft kisses down his body, heading towards where he wants your mouth, but far slower than ever before.

"You know Santi," you breathe, pausing to look up at him through your lashes, "I think maybe I need to go grab a bite to eat before we continue this. Its going to be a long night. Be a good boy and wait right here for me."

You press a soft kiss to his lips, which are pressed into a hard line of dissaproval at your teasing, before you pepper soft kisses across his neck, slowly manoeuvring your body off his as you go.

There's absolutely no warning for what comes next. One moment your tongue is flicking out to lick his pulse point, and the next your flipped onto your back, Santi bearing down on you, both your hands pinned to the mattress.

You have no idea how he got his hands free, or how long he's had them free for, and all thoughts of asking disappear as Santi's lips twist into a devilish smile.

"I think first I'll give you a lesson in impatience," he growls, before he claims your mouth in a hard kiss.

#santiago garcia x reader #santiago garcia #santiago garcia x you #santiago garcia smut #santiago pope garcia #santiago pope garcia x reader #santiago garcia x f!reader

[imasadboi]

YanderePirate!Leon x Mermaid!Reader

Minors fuck off, please and thank you! This was just stuck in my lil head for a while and I went through with it, hope y'all enjoy. I may write more, depends if the inspo hits me or not. Shit was not beta'd so excuse any mistakes. . CW: blood, violence, use of weapons (harpoon), noncon, somnophilia, fingering, masturbation, reader is part fish. Lmk if I missed anything.

You first came into existence for him when he’d spotted you lounging on a rock, the sunlight making your skin glisten and your hair glow. His eyes trailed further down your body to notice your pert nipples, as a gentle sea breeze washed over your body. 

But what caught his eye the most, was your tail—virescent and refracting the sun’s light in a way that made it glimmer so beautifully. He had never seen something so captivating in his life. Obsession blossomed in his chest then, the need to have you flowing into his veins at a burning rate. At this moment, his only goal in life was to capture you and make you his.

Leon finds himself smiling as he sees his harpoon shoot right through your tail, the way your blood fills the grooves of your scales and melds flawlessly with the ocean water;

“Don’t struggle darling, you’ll only make it worse for yourself!” 

Your eyes involuntarily well up with tears, pain racking your body as you struggle to take in breaths. You flail in the water as your body is lifted, a loud cry escapes your throat as the unknown pirate hauls your body onto his ship—each pull causes the harpoon to jolt in your injury.

With a thud, your injured body lands on the deck; Leon has a rope in hand, roughly grabbing your arms and tying your wrists together.

“God, you look so much more beautiful up close, love.” Leon’s eyes trail across your body, lingering on your chest for a moment before eyeing the damage he just caused with his weapon. ‘I had to,’ he thinks, eyebrows furrowing with affliction, ‘She would have swam away.’

“I feel awful for this darling, but bear with me,” You follow his line of sight landing on the harpoon. You quickly realize what��s about to happen. 

“Wait, wait, wait, please don’t—,” a loud and agonizing shriek is heard, reverberating in Leon’s ears causing him to wince.

Sobs and whimpers pour from your mouth as Leon tosses the item aside, “Shh dear, you did so well. I’ll make you feel better in no time. I promise darling.” He cups your face, wiping heavy tears from your face with a gentle thumb—it should be his tongue instead.

Your tail sluggishly bleeds onto the wooden floor, your body working to heal itself in a timely manner. You look into those blue eyes, contrasting the warmth of your home;

“Why are you doing this?”

Leon stops the gentle strokes on your face, his face falling into blissful tranquility, “The moment I laid eyes on you, I knew you were mine darling.” 

It’s the last thing you hear as you succumb to darkness, the events taking a toll on your body. Leon feels his heart swell at the sight of you falling limp in his arms. He manages to slide an arm under your shoulders and your tail—struggling a bit with how slippery it is—and carries you into his quarters. 

He lays you down on his bed where he wraps a bandage over your gash, noticing the way it’s beginning to close on its own. He knew of some stories and tales of merfolk abilities but now, seeing it for himself, he finds himself in awe. Had he been someone else, someone who only found interest in obtaining their weight in gold, you would have been ripped apart. Killed. All for what could be exploited for man's benefit. Anger clouds his mind for a second, “Nobody can ever hurt you now, love.”

Leon runs a hand over your cheek, pushing your hair behind your ear, “Nobody can ever hurt you now, love.”

He wants to leave you to rest but your prone body tempts that part of him he’s never felt so strongly before; desire. He can feel himself begin to harden at the thought of giving in. How dare you seduce him even while unconscious.

His hand slightly trembles as his fingertips make contact with the soft flesh of your stomach, feeling it rise with every pull of breath you take in and release. God, you look so beautiful. Those fingers make their way to the underside of your tit, before gliding onto your nipple. It perks at his touch and his excitement ramps up. How sensitive. His fingers grasp your nipple lightly, rolling it and pushing it into the supple flesh of your breast. He watches your face with rapport as he does so, your face gives no indication that you’re aware of his actions. 

The left hand trailing your body finally lands onto your tail, the scales under his touch feel moist yet smooth. There’s a gathering of scales that stand out among the others, his throat feels dry upon approaching it. With one finger, he gently moves the largest scale.

Now his mouth is practically salivating as his finger slowly reveals a seemingly normal looking pussy, only different in color—it matches the colors of your tail and he’s never found anything more beautiful. He takes a quick glance at your face and sees you’re still deep asleep.

He knows he shouldn’t, would rather see your live reactions to his touches, but he’s been dreaming about this for too long. Leon gingerly presses his pointer finger inside, taking note of how warm and wet you are. Your pussy seems to clench on the intrusion before relaxing. He slides it in and out, wanting to gather more of your wetness; It’s more viscous than other women he’s been with, creating a stupidly easy slip and slide for his finger.

Without hesitation, he dips two more fingers in, in awe as your pussy easily accepts them, like it was made for him. The other hand he had by your face moves to push his pants down, his dick already weeping with pre. He has enough restraint to keep from fucking you right then and there, instead removing his fingers from your hole and slathering the slick he accumulated from you onto his cock. He returns his fingers in you, this time with four. He begins to pump himself with the other, imagining he’s inside you instead.

There’s a slight strain to fingering you as he curls his fingers into the spongy part of your walls—which earns him a twitch of your tail and a cut-off whimper from you—while teasing the head of his dick. The arousal burns right through him, and Leon is unable to hold back from releasing deep moans and whimpers as he moves his hand faster. He sees your body start to squirm the more insistent he is with his digits, the urgency and deep need to make you cum with him hanging obsessively over his head.

You wake up with a feeling like something in your abdomen has snapped, and a loud moan shakily leaves your throat. Your pussy feels full and pulsates around the intruding object. On the other hand, Leon finally gives in and shoots load after load onto his shirt, hand, and thighs—the look of your face, pure bliss, tipping him over the edge. He awaits a tongue-lashing from you only to find you’ve gone back to sleep.

He removes his fingers from you with care, bringing them to his mouth. At the first taste of you, he moans. He sucks on his fingers until your essence is completely eliminated. He tucks himself back into his pants, still feeling breathless from having cum so intensely. If just this felt amazing, he can only wonder what it’ll be like when he’s finally in you.

#leon kennedy x reader #yandere leon kennedy #mermaidreader #pirateleonkennedy

[saltsicklover]

Pen Pal - Fan Mail Pt. 2

Title: Pen Pal - Fan Mail Pt. 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2500

Rating: T

Warnings: Swearing, Drinking, Self Loathing.

-- I am writing a part 3 for this so it is to be continued. I hope you enjoy! --

Disclaimer: I do not own Bucky Barnes, or anything related to Marvel within this piece. Not Proof Read or BETA'd. All mistakes are my own.

I do not consent for my work to be edited, reposted, or translated.

You are responsible for your own media consumption. This is a work of fiction that may contain mature themes. If you are sensitive to those subjects, please do not read.

When Bucky finally decides he is going to write to his new pen pal, he is knee deep in weeds outside of a long condemned government facility on the outskirts of a fly over town. The tall grass sways around him, the new blooms of flowers catching in the zippers of his tactical pants as he hurries around the property. He can't find it in himself to care about the lights from a helicopter swirling above him, a spotlight directly focused on the building. 

Sam says something over their headset, the coms link crackling with static the closer Bucky gets to the electric fence that holds him securely on the outside of the property. Maybe he was supposed to answer, radio in his location and update on the fact that the fence is indeed live and getting in would be a problem, but all he can think about is how he is going to start that damn letter. 

Is 'hello' too simple? Maybe he should start off with an introduction, right? Like when you meet someone for the first time and you shake hands and give them your name... But they already know who he is, or they at least know enough to have sought him out, so he doesn't technically need to introduce himself. 

He continues to trudge through the thick growth of weeds and flowers around the fence, mumbling to himself as he walks. Just as a thought appears in his head, he sinks ankle deep into sludgy water; dark brown and ice cold, the water seeps into his boot. He curses under his breath, the thought leaving him as quick as it came. The whole incident earns a hearty laugh from Sam, who comes flying his direction, wings spread to the sky like Icarus before the fall. 

Bucky finally gets to sit down two days later to pen out his response; his boots are abandoned in the entryway of his small quarters, one still drying out. He sits at the lonely kitchen table, the warm yellow light from the fixture above him lights the room in a way he doesn't particularly care for, but he decides to sit there anyway. 

There is a fresh legal pad in front of him, the stark yellow of the paper causing a bit of anxiety to churn within his chest. Bucky plays with his pen, twirling it between his fingers, the cap hanging loosely from his lips- he knows better than to chew on it, he really does, yet the first place the cap went when it came off of the pen was straight into his mouth. Maybe it will help with his anxiety, give him something to focus on. At least, that's what he repeats to himself.

"How hard could writing a letter be?" He asks the air around him, leaning in close to the legal pad. He traces over the printed lines with careful eyes, like he is trying to make the words appear without touching pen to paper. "Hell, I was born in 1917, I fought the goddamn Nazis. I can do this." 

"Dear Pen Pal"- He scratches that out. Not good enough, he deems it. 

"Good Morning," - What if it's not morning when they get this? He draws a line through.

"To whom it may concern," - What is this, a fucking death announcement. He scribbles that one out too, with big loopy circles. 

He tears the first page off of the pad, crumpling it up between his hands into a tight little ball. This may be harder than he thought. He gets up from his seat, leaving his legal pad behind. He will come back to it, to this, he promises himself. 

The following night, Steve and Sam drag him out of his quarters for drinks and a few rounds of pool at the local bar. Steve knows better than anyone that drinking is a waste of time now and the money is being wasted on tabs that add up faster than he can blink, but Bucky goes anyway. 

"So, are we going to talk about it, or are we still not talkin' about it?" Sam questions Bucky and Steve, looking over his pint glass at the men setting up the pool table. 

"Dude, seriously?" Bucky hits Steve on the back of the head, palm open and firm. Steve pushed Buck back on the shoulder, more playful than revenge ridden. 

"So we aren't talkin' about it, I see now," Sam sets his glass down on the table. Bucky can't help but focus in on the precipitation that runs down the side of the glass, it's easier than looking Sam in the eye. Steve opens their pool game, the cue ball hitting the arrangement of balls with a sickening crack, dragging Bucky away from his thoughts. 

"I think we should talk about it," Steve's candor slides off his tongue easily and Bucky's skin goes slick with sweat at the words. 

But they don't talk about it, instead the conversation drifts over to Sam and his family. The boat and his sister's constant worry about him, even though he swears she worries more about than damn boat than she does about herself. 

Sam tries to pry into Steve's love life. With his history with the Carter women, things have become rocky and tense in that department; the conversation between friends seems to be even more tense than the situation itself. Bucky and Sam remedy that by knocking back a few more drinks. 

As the night goes on, Steve seems to loosen up, his muscles relaxing making his overall figure seem to droop a bit at the shoulders. Sweat glistens on his brow, a product of the hot and stuffy bar they have been in for hours. Bucky lost interest in pool a long time ago, and darts were no better. 

Now, he is belly up to the bar, sitting in a chair that wobbles back and fourth on the uneven floor as he moves his weight. He is nursing a whiskey sour, a drink that doesn't offer much but burn and he likes it that way-  the burning feeling. It helps him think- feel something other than the self pity that seems to swallow him up, slipping down the throat of the monster that is depraved malignity. 

His attempts to wallow over his own lack of response to his new pen pal are accidentally thwarted by a drunk Sam who stumbles up to him, grabbing his shoulder with a bit too much gusto for Bucky's current mood. 

"Hey Bucky Buddy!" Sam sings, his words swimming with alcohol and scheme. Bucky just rolls him eyes, swiveling to look Sam in the eye. "You know, you need-" Sam's words are interrupted with a hiccup, "You need a plan, tha's wha' you need," Bucky tries to ignore the drunken babbles of his friend, but curiosity gets the better of him. 

"And what plan do you think I need?" Buck questions his friend, who is now pulled up in a chair next to him, a couple of napkins clutched in his hand. Bucky's stomach twists a bit but he watches as Sam leans over the bar, fishing for something out of his line of sight. 

"What the hell are you two up to?" Steve inquires, grabbing both men by the shoulder. Sam mutters out something as he sits back down, a pen in one hand, the crumpled napkins in the other. Bucky only manages a shrug. 

"We are making a plan!" Sam exclaims, writing the word "PLAN" in large, capitol letters on the top of the napkin. He accents it with a squiggly line underneath, grinning like he is hatching a plan to take down mortal enemies instead of helping Bucky write a letter. 

"So, what do you have so far?" Sam asks, looking at Bucky with too much confidence. Bucky just takes a long drink of his whiskey. "Nothing? Seriously!" Steve can only laugh at the display in front of him, his two best friends hunched over a napkin. 

"Why don't we start with a greeting?" Steve suggests. Sam lights up at the idea, and Bucky can't find it in him to disagree. 

"How about "Hello Beautiful?"" Sam throws out, writing it shakily on the napkin. Bucky rips the pen from Sam's hand, quickly writing a dark line through the words. 

"Too forward." He grumbles, adding another bullet point. 

"How about, "Hello, thank you for writing to me"?" Steve asks the group, and the men nod in agreement. Bucky scribbles that down. 

The men begin to pile a list together of all of the potential things to say to Bucky's new pen pal. They take turns writing, mostly banning Sam from adding his drunken thoughts to the list. They write down everything from things Bucky enjoys and how he spends his day to day, to funny stories from the 40's. They write down questions for him to include, each of them wondering who could be on the other side of the paper, writing to Bucky, pouring their heart out to a complete stranger. 

An hour passes and they have filled up three napkins, front and back, with details for Bucky to include. Sam is still drunk, leaning on Steve, both men wearing a wide, goofy grin. The men break for the night, the tab being paid by Steve who hands his card to the bartender without even checking with his friends. 

They wander out of the bar, Sam and Steve clinging to one another, both hell bent of keeping each other from meeting the pavement. Bucky can't help the laugh that bubbles up his throat at the sight before him and the way Steve holds Sam tight around the waist, the other man's arm slung loosely over Steve's neck. 

It reminds him of how he used to carry Steve home from his back alley brawls with men twice his size. Crimson always poured from his nose and the spaces between his too white teeth. The sight always made Bucky nauseous, but he could never let Steve know that, he would never live it down . Maybe it was the blood, or maybe it was seeing Steve strung out from one too many full force punches to the jaw, the cheek, the eye. 

Bucky trails behind Steve and Sam, watching them bumble down the darkened street towards the tower. He thinks about asking if they should catch a cab. He almost asks Steve if he needs help; but, instead, Bucky stops under a lamp post, the orange glow from above illuminating the ink stained napkins he pulls from the pocket of his jacket. He flips them over, fitting the smallest letters he can muster in any blank space he can find with the pen they definitely stole from the bar. 

Bucky writes a note about how Sam clung to the epaulette of Steve's jacket as he fought with his own feet to stay upright. He adds a tidbit about Steve and the way he used to laugh so hard it would send him into asthma induced coughing fits. Bucky desperately wants to tell his pen pal about how Steve was the one who would push every limit and would drag Buck with him, because most people think it's the other way around. He doesn't hold back the laugh that falls from his lips at the memory. He can still hear Steve's choked voice on the wind as they run from a fight that Steve was sure he was going to win- Bucky knew better but never told Steve otherwise. 

Bucky wants to tell them about Sam, and the way he welcomed him into his family, even after everything he has done. He wants to write about Natasha and Clint, hell he wants to write about everyone, but he worries that the moment he starts he is going to be at a loss for words. Excitement thrums through him at the thought of sharing his world with someone else, someone new. 

The moment Bucky makes it home, he sits himself down at his kitchen table again, the yellow legal pad still staring back at him. He pulls his notes out, looking them over before he grabs a pen. He has never been more thankful to have been pulled out to a bar before, and he doubts he ever will. 

"Hello. I want to start by saying thank you for writing to me. If I am being honest, your letter is the first I have ever gotten that wasn't some sort of empty threat. So, thank you for that. I do apologize for taking so long to write back. I have been away with work a lot recently, and I really didn't know what to say to you. 

Your first letter caught me by surprise, both the arrival and the contents. I am pleased to hear that you are well now. 

My friends, Steve and Sam, helped me write a list of all the things I have to write to you about. I guess you can say I have been worried about what I might include in a letter like this, but I am up for the challenge, so to say. 

If you are still willing, I would quite like to write to you. 

Your Pen Pal, Bucky Barnes."

Bucky looks over the letter he has scrawled out on the page. It takes up about a quarter of it, his hand writing somewhere between neat and boyish. He takes his pen and goes over a few letters, making them dark and clear. He reads and rereads it, a hand unconsciously coming up to to press against his chest, over the pocket where he keeps the letters he was written.

He worries that the words he has written won't be enough and that it's too late for him to send such a small letter. He worries that his handwriting is too messy compared to what he received and that they won't be able to read it, even though it is perfectly legible. He tried to dissipate some of the building nerves by running his hands over his jeans, then through his hair and over his beard. His hands move as his eyes scan the letter again. 

It will have to do, he finally decides and folds it up and stuffs it in an envelope so he doesn't have to look at it any longer. He seals it with a quick lick to the back of the envelope, the paper cutting the tip of his tongue. He swears a bit as he presses the fold shut flat. Once it is addressed, he presses an American Flag  Forever Stamp to the corner. He has never considered himself a sentimental guy, but those are the same stamps his Ma bought, so those are the ones he buys too. He runs a fingertip over the name and address of the front as the excitement and anxiety battle in his stomach for dominance. Maybe his pen pal will write back, maybe, maybe, maybe. 

TAG LIST

@vicmc624

@cjand10

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x fem reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky #james buchanan barnes #buckybarnesfanfic #part 2 #sam wilson #steve rogers #buckyhasfriends

[wayward-dreamer]

Far From Innocent - Part 2

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Female!Reader

Word count: 2,874

Summary: Y/N's life is quite simple. She's engaged to be married in a few months, she has the easiest job at Vought American, and she stays out of the drama or away from rumors she's heard around the office. An encounter with Soldier Boy, Vought's most respected hero, quickly changes all of that and she soon realizes that there's more to life than what she's settled for. (Set in the 50s)

Warnings: Angst, swearing, degrading language, typical 1950s misogyny, sexual thoughts, thoughts of cheating, actual cheating, drinking, smoking, drug use, implied smut

A/N: I'm so glad y'all enjoyed the first part. Next one will be out in a few days. Happy reading and enjoy! beta'd by my darling @hintsofhoney

A few weeks had passed since Y/N had that brief glimpse into Soldier Boy’s private life. From that day she had done everything she could to avoid seeing him again. She kept her head down and distracted herself with as much work as possible, forwarding any request that had to do with him onto someone else. She had managed to keep to herself and be completely oblivious to what the supes got up to for the two years she had been working there, but suddenly since that moment, it wasn’t so easy anymore. The rumors she thought may not be true, now definitely were especially after what she had witnessed that day and since then.

She had tried so hard to not be anywhere in the vicinity of Soldier Boy, but a late night or two working at the office had their paths crossing. She had noticed him with Tek Knight and two women, trying to sneak into the building from the service elevator to his penthouse on one occasion. The other time he was chatting up a new female supe, one that Vought had been hoping to sign with, but Y/N hadn’t seen her again after that.

Despite it all, there was still an allure and mystery that she was intrigued by. She still found herself wanting to know more, wanting to do more, and do it all with him. She and Jim had tried to be intimate again, but he had of course fallen into the same problem and she was left to take care of herself once he fell asleep.

She wasn’t sure how much more of it she could take.

They hadn’t talked about it, and she wondered whether she should mention it to him, but she had a feeling that wouldn’t be the smartest idea. So she ignored it, pretended like everything was okay as they continued their lunch break tradition, went home together, spent weekends planning for the wedding and avoiding what she knew would be a touchy subject.

She also continued to ignore the forbidden desires she had been having about America’s greatest superhero, only allowing herself to think about those things at the hour of the lonely and dreaming.

“So, the country club is booked and I’m going for my suit fitting…”

Y/N drowned out Jim’s ramblings of the wedding as she continued to stock the coffee and tea cart with napkins, spoons, sugar packets and everything else she had been asked to do. They had been short staffed for the shoot and needed more people to help, so he convinced her and a few others to join. He didn’t tell her what it was for, and she didn’t really care. She just needed to avoid a run-in with Soldier Boy.

“Y/N?” he called out, waving his hand in front of her face and breaking her out of her reverie. “Did you hear me?”

“Yes,” she replied, clearing her throat. “Country club, suit fitting, it’s all settled.”

“And you’re going for your dress fitting with your mom this weekend, right?” he asked, taking her hand and making her face him.

“Yeah,” she sighed, mustering up a smile.

“Well, you better hide it before I come over on Saturday, ‘cause we don’t need any bad luck…” he whispered, leaning in and kissing her lips, softly.

Y/N hummed as she kissed him back, trying to pull away as she wasn’t a fan of public displays like that, but Jim cupped her cheek to keep her from moving. The sound of heavy footsteps reached her ears, causing her eyes to snap open just as a group of suits from advertising walked in, followed by hero management who flanked the star of today’s shoot, Soldier Boy. She pulled away from the kiss, watching as he marched past them, lighting a cigarette as he pushed through.

“S-Soldier Boy’s doing the commercial?” she asked, looking up at Jim.

“Yeah, who else would?” he remarked, shrugging his shoulders.

“You didn’t tell me that,” she murmured, frowning at him.

“So?” he questioned, confusion written on his face. “It’s not a big deal, sweetie. We just needed a couple people to help. He’s not even gonna notice you.”

That might be a good thing she thought to herself as she let out a heavy sigh.

“Don’t be nervous,” he told her, patting her shoulder before he walked away towards the supe.

“I’m not,” she whispered, rolling her eyes as she knew that was a lie.

Y/N stayed by the table as she continued to observe, her eyes never leaving the man in green and gold. He put out the cigarette as one of the assistants handed him the pack of Marlboro for the advert. He had the script in his other hand, throwing it at the assistant just as the director called for people to move out of the shot.

“And we’re rolling,” he announced, glancing behind him at the crew before turning back to Soldier Boy. “Whenever you’re ready, sir.”

Just as Soldier Boy lifted his head to look down the lens, he noticed someone standing further away near the food table. Y/N. He had wondered if he would ever see her around again, especially after he found her in his apartment, watching him. He saw as she stared back at him, her hands clutching nervously as the belt around her waist. His lips pulled up into a smirk, causing a sharp exhale to leave her, her gaze dropping to the floor just as he looked away from her into the camera.

Y/N looked down at her watch, hoping that in another few minutes they could dismiss her, and she could go back to her regular job. She needed to get away as fast as possible. She busied herself with making a pyramid out of the Styrofoam cups, briefly glancing up with every take that the director wanted. She smiled as Jim walked over, wrapping his arm around her shoulders as he kissed her temple, nuzzling his nose into her hair.

“What do you say we sneak outta here and have some fun,” he mumbled into her ear.

“Actually, I think I’m gonna head back up and work,” she stated, shifting away from him.

“Hey, come on, we got some time to kill,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows as he pulled her into his arms.

“Jimmy, I can’t,” she laughed, lightly as she looked up at him. “I have a lot to do-”

“It’s nothing that can’t wait,” he cut her off, pressing his lips to hers.

She squeaked as she pushed at his shoulders, ripping her mouth away from his as she frowned up at him. “It’s my job, Jimmy.”

“I know that-” he started but she had him gulping with the glare she gave him.

“Do you?” she countered, raising an eyebrow.

“Sweetie, let’s not do this here,” he lowered his voice, briefly glancing around to make sure no one was looking at him.

“Oh, but you only wanted to have sex here,” she hissed.

His eyes narrowed as he stared down at her, taking a firm grip of her forearm. “Keep your voice down.”

“Let go of me,” she growled, pulling herself out of his grasp.

With one last scowl, she stalked away from him and stood closer to some of the other employees, all busy with their work. She crossed her arms across her chest as she watched them redress the shot, before the director called action. She moved slowly, standing a few steps behind him, her eyes focused on the supe in front of the camera. Just as he reached the end of the lines, he took out a cigarette from the pack, placed it between his lips and lifted the lighter, lighting the tip. He took a drag, his gaze locking with hers as he did. He blew out a long puff of smoke, their eyes never leaving each other. She felt her thighs quiver, making her press them together in order to keep herself from falling.

“…old fashioned flavor in the new way to smoke,” he recited the end, smirking at the camera as he took another drag.

“Cut!” the director yelled. “That was great, sir. Let’s run it again-”

“Fuck this,” Soldier Boy growled, standing up from the stool so fast it tipped over. “Give me ten…”

“Sir, we should really just keep rolling,” one of the suits interjected, trying to stop him from leaving.

“No, we take ten,” he snapped, his green orbs glaring at the man in front of him. “We square?”

“Y-Yes,” the guy stuttered, a shaky nod accompanying his nervous speech.

“Can we get you anything, sir?” Jim asked, walking over as he saw the situation.

“Jack,” Soldier Boy briefly acknowledged him, dropping his focus and fixing his glove.

“It’s Jim, sir,” he corrected, but the polite smile on his face quickly dropped as the supe turned to him.

Soldier Boy’s face was void of expression, clearly unimpressed. “Whatever. Coffee, iced.”

“On it,” Jim declared, about to step away but he saw the supe had something else to add.

“And uh… have your girl over there deliver it,” Soldier Boy added, nodding towards Y/N as she handed coffees out to some of the employees. His eyes took her in, a small grin on his lips as he slapped Jim’s shoulder, not bothering to look at him. “Thanks, kid.”

Jim sighed deeply as he saw Soldier Boy walk away into one of the small rooms across from the setup. He turned back and spotted Y/N at the snack table, making his way over to her. She quickly glanced up at him before turning her attention back to making a fresh brew.

“Listen, uh… Soldier Boy wants you to bring him an iced coffee,” he explained, scratching the back of his neck. “But I can-”

“No, I’ll do it,” she said, staring up at him blankly. “It’s not like I have anything else to do, right?”

“Y/N,” he breathed, shaking his head but he never got the chance to say anything else.

She strutted away from Jim, nervous to be facing the man she had been having sinful thoughts about for the past few weeks, but relieved to be anywhere but near her fiancé for a few minutes.

Y/N knocked on the door as she took a deep breath, letting it out in a long exhale. She waited for a few seconds, before she rapped her knuckles on the wood again, not wanting a repeat situation of a few weeks ago. She wasn’t sure who could’ve walked into the room while she was out getting Soldier Boy his coffee. A rasped “come in” came from behind the door, and she turned the knob to enter, a sigh of relief leaving her to see him alone. He looked up at her as he wiped under his nose, wiping the surface of the table before he stood up, his signature smirk on his face as he walked around the desk in the small office and she walked over. His helmet was off and sitting on the table, his flippy locks on display and only adding to his charm.

“Here you go, sir,” she mumbled, not meeting his eyes as she handed him his drink.

His gaze never left her as he took a sip from the glass, closing his eyes with a low hum of approval. “Ah, that’s fucking swell. Thanks, sugar.”

“No problem,” she said, nodding slowly. She needed to leave immediately, because there was no way she could survive the way he was looking at her. “Well, I should get back-”

“To that fiancé of yours?” he asked, a pointed look on his face.

She lifted her head to meet his eyes, slightly surprised that he remembered that. She didn’t think someone of his stature would.

“Things seem a little… tense,” he added, leaning back against the desk. “I might’ve noticed.”

She huffed, shaking her head as she clasped her hands in front of her. “That’s putting it mildly.”

“Let me guess… you two did the horizontal tango and he popped it too quick, right?” he prodded, raising an eyebrow.

Her eyes widened as she gasped. She couldn’t speak, far too shocked at what he had just said. Her reaction was enough of an answer for him.

“Anything I can help with?” he asked, his words incredibly suggestive as he kept his intense gaze on her.

She felt her cheeks heat up as she stared back at him, but she tried to remain stoic. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. That-That’s never happened.”

“Oh, come on, doll,” he chuckled, the sound deep and husky as he placed the glass on the desk and looked back at her. “You can’t fucking pretend you didn’t like what you saw that morning. If your guy’s got a problem with his pecker, there’s no way you’re gettin’ what you need.”

She stood frozen in front of him, unable to use her voice to contradict him because she couldn’t. She couldn’t deny the truth.

Soldier Boy took advantage of her stillness, his hand reaching out and slipping a finger under the belt around her waist. He pulled on it, a gasp escaping her as her feet shifted against the carpet, her body instantly pressing into the hard wall of muscle, her hands on his broad shoulders. Their faces were inches apart, his green eyes boring into hers that were wide like saucers, a grin spreading as he caught them glance down at his plump lips.

“And I think we both know what you need,” he whispered, his voice low and gravelly as his breath brushed against her mouth.

A small whimper left her as she stared up at him, breathing heavily at their close proximity. This was the closest she had ever been to him, a brief thought of wanting to be even closer crossed her mind, but she quickly pushed it away.

“What?” she squeaked out.

He laughed lightly, taking in every feature of her face. “To finally act on all the slutty things you’ve been thinking about.”

She let out a shuddered breath as they continued to stare at each other, her eyes still showing a hint of uncertainty, very slowly giving way to a glimpse of confidence.

“Maybe,” she breathed, a small smile pulling at her lips.

“Why don’t we find out for sure,” he suggested, his hands slipping down to rest on her hips. “Tomorrow night.”

“I-I can’t,” she stuttered, shaking her head. She couldn’t do that to Jim.

“I think you can,” he interjected, a cocky grin on his face. “I think you will.”

Just as she opened her mouth, a sharp knock on the door broke them out of their lust-filled haze. Y/N jumped back a few steps, his hands slipping away from her sides as he glared up at their door.

“Sir! We’re ready for you!” a man’s voice yelled from the other side.

“All a bunch of fucking cock blockers,” he muttered under his breath as he picked up his drink.

Y/N brushed down the skirt of her grey dress, adjusting the belt back into place before she looked up at Soldier Boy. He held his helmet under his arm, his drink in the other as he walked over to the door, turning back to her with that smile that made her knees weak.

“9 o’clock, if you change your mind,” he instructed, opening the door. “You know where I’ll be…”

And with that suggestion, she was left alone in the room to contemplate everything he had said.

“Fuck,” she huffed out, placing her hands on her hips as her eyes snapped shut.

He knew what she needed and was willing to help her, but there was no way she could take him up on his offer. She was engaged to be married, and even with how much they had been fighting lately and their problems in the bedroom, she loved Jim. She couldn’t do that to him.

Stepping out of the small office, she walked past Soldier Boy as he got back to filming the commercial, looking around others to see where Jim was. She saw no sign of him, sighing heavily as she wondered if he was upset with her. She shouldn’t have been so annoyed with him. She heard voices down the hallway, her heels clacking against the floorboards as she went to investigate. Her lips spread into a smile as she saw her fiancé walk out of the storeroom, fixing his shirt back into his pants and adjusting his tie. She frowned in confusion, but her eyebrows suddenly pulled into her a scowl as a blonde woman came out behind him, reapplying her lipstick. She quickly recognized her as Brenda, an assistant in the advertising department.

Y/N turned on her heel and stalked away before either of them saw her fuming, making a quick beeline for the elevators. She was going back up to the 40th floor, to get back to the job she was actually paid to do, and to continue to think about Soldier Boy’s offer.

All she knew was that Jim just made her decision a lot easier.

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#Far From Innocent #Soldier Boy x Female!Reader #Soldier Boy x Female!Reader Series #Soldier Boy x Female!Reader Fanfiction #Soldier Boy x Reader #Soldier Boy Smut #Soldier Boy Series #Soldier Boy Fanfiction #Soldier Boy #Jensen Ackles #the boys tv #The Boys Smut #The Boys Fanfiction

[mimisempai]

Another perspective

Summary

Where the angel is taller than the demon... sort of.

Notes

50 Types of Kisses - Writing Prompts

Kiss #20: Kissing in a stairwell, giving them an artificial height difference

On Ao3

Rating G -  301 words

They climbed the stairs to the bedroom, Aziraphale in front of Crowley, when the angel suddenly spun around, almost causing the demon to lose his balance. 

Fortunately, Aziraphale quickly placed his hands on Crowley's shoulders, stabilizing him a few stairs down.

Crowley, looking confused, asked, "What's the matter with you, Angel?"

Aziraphale, a mischievous smile on his lips, replied, "I wanted to see how it felt."

The demon raised an eyebrow, "What?"

Aziraphale replied, "To be taller than you."

Crowley chuckled and asked, "And how does that feel?"

Leaning forward, Aziraphale brought his face close to the demon's and replied softly, "I love that I'm the one who has to lean in to kiss you."

Closing the distance between them, he leaned forward a little more and captured the demon's lips in a tender kiss.

When they parted to catch their breath, the demon playfully placed his hands on the angel's hips and said, "I must say, it's an interesting change, plus it gives me better access."

This time it was Aziraphale who looked at him in confusion and asked, "Better access to what?"

Instead of answering, Crowley slid his hands from his hips to the angel's butt, grabbing it and lifting him up, leaving Aziraphale no choice but to wrap his legs around the demon's waist and his arms around his neck.

Crowley, now literally carrying the Angel, said mischievously, "See, you don't need stairs, you're still taller than me, and it's a lot more fun since we can do it anywhere."

Aziraphale laughed and bent his head toward the demon's, capturing his lips for another kiss that lingered as the demon climbed the last few steps, his angel in his arms.

No matter who ended up taller than the other, the size of their shared love was the same.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable kisses series : here

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here

#good omens #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #ineffable boyfriends #aziraphale #crowley #good omens fanfiction #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #50 kisses

[notyour-valentine]

A Thousand Reasons and One ~Tommy Shelby x Reader (Fluff)

Summary: After more than a decade since her parents had decided to leave Birmingham for a better life across the sea, she wasn’t sure just what she would return to

Note: @dandelionprints Thank you so much for requesting.

Here is my [Masterlist].

I do not consent to my work being translated, copied or posted elsewhere on this platform or any other. This hasn't been beta'd so I apologise for typos or mistakes

Warning: As I am an adult, all my writing I share is unless explicitly stated for adults (18/21+). Expect canon confirming tone, language and depiction of violence. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. 

Request: yes, by @dandelionprints I hope you enjoy it!

Wordcount: 3701

She had read a story once, about a girl who had woken up in a dreamworld so lifelike and similar to the one she came from, it took a while before she realised it.

And as she heard the crunching under her tightly laced brown leather boots, she couldn’t help but think this was a dream too. 

She could no longer tell how many night she had closed her eyes so that in the darkness, she could walk these streets again, balancing on the edge of the pavement on the outskirts of Small Heath, sneaking through the back streets and alleyways for the quickest way to the canal or even climbing up to the roofs so that she alone would tower over the city. Only she hadn’t been alone.

Back then, she had never been alone. 

Even now, after a decade that had shaken the foundation of the world, it still felt familiar, even if the paint on the shop sign was a little more chipped, the facade of the houses a little darker and the smell a little harsher. 

But somehow it all was smaller than in the memories of the streets of her childhood. Even the towering stretched necks of the factory chimneys that still loomed over the city no longer seemed the giants they once were. 

And yet that calming sense of coming home never came. 

Instead, her heart thundered in her chest. If it were anyone else, they could have pretended that it was due to the bad company and the rough streets that were safer to walk as a child than a young woman, but that wasn’t it. 

She was too foolish and too brave to be scared in a place like this. In her place, or at least what it had once been. 

Despite all the time, her feet knew the way all on their own from where the cabbie had dropped her off with a polite warning. 

“It’s not safe, ‘specially for foreigners.”

But she wasn’t a foreigner. She had been born in this place, taking in the smoke with her first breath and feeling the dirt under her feet with her very first steps. 

All the other changes had been little, so much so that a slightly less interested glance wouldn’t have noticed them at all, just enough to cause a little unease the same way the perceived stillness on the deck of a boat had made her stomach flutter during the passage over. 

She noticed though, but even someone blind, deaf and stupid would notice the glaring difference presenting itself to her now. 

She had to blink, pinch herself and look again at this glimmering glittering hideous mess of gold paint that awaited her where the Garrison once stood. 

Gone was the old dark brown wood, replaced by gilded paint and white without a single stain upon it. It looked as if it had been plucked from a different place of the earth and set down here by mistake. 

Inside, it was hardly better. The last time she had been, there had not yet been electric lights, but these looked to be of the newest generation, just like the telephone behind the bar. 

The countertops had no scratchmarks, no bullets stuck in them.

The legs of the chairs had not been cracked and broken and the old wooden benches had been softened by upholstery, which she could see a thousand times over in the reflection of the many mirrors. 

The old faces of her childhood were no more, the regular’s table sporting new patrons. 

And somehow, even if she had only ever cared about few of them, it filled her with sadness. 

Mr Barrow had been a gruff old man who had smelled so sour it sometimes made her eyes water, but he had belonged here, right up at there on the furthest place of the counter. 

And Mr. Mintley with his nose the shape of a potato looked so mean it would scare a stranger, but his voice had almost been that of a mouse. 

Fannington was another who wasn��t there, with his long beard and bushy moustache. 

She remembered blue-nosed Galling who sometimes, when he was particularly drunk, would pay them for matches they never gave them and squinty eyed Mr Pickett who could drink like a cow and yet still walk a straight line. 

They were all gone, but she could see some lingering trace of them in the other people- the colour of familiar eyes, the shape of noses she recalled and the sound of laughter that had etched itself in her memory. 

“What can I get ya’ love?”, a booming voice roared, sending her head snapping from where sometimes that old greyhound had laid under the table to the man behind the bar. 

Old Mr. Fenton had been the one behind it, with the help of his boy Haggard Harry, but even though the lines in the face she saw were frighteningly familiar, they bore no resemblance to either one of the Fentons. 

She know those small eyes, knew the line between the brows, the shape of the jaw - even the moustache. It was like looking at a ghost, because he had to be a ghost.

He looked just like he had done when she had last seen him, all those years ago. 

“Didn’t mean to startle ya!”, he said in that booming voice she remembered in the depth of her bones as he braced himself on the counter. “Go on!”

“J-just a gin please.”, she croaked out, staring at him with wide eyes. 

Surely not. 

“Finn, make yourself useful and get the American some good old gin, eh?”, he instructed as he continued to draw a few pints. 

“I’m not ‘ere for work!”, a young man who was sitting on the customer’s side argued. He had short blond hair, with the edges cut in the way the soldiers did it, and piercing blue eyes. He too looked frighteningly familiar. 

“You do as you’re told!”, the man insisted and rolling his eyes, the youngster put out his cigarette and began to obey. 

“Here.”, he finally said, pushing the glass over to her as she paid. 

“Heard you talking about Americans.”, a sneer came from the direction of the snug. 

“Ah, don’t worry John!”, the man waved off, making her head snap around. 

“We don’t mind foreigners when they look like that, eh?”

Yes, it was John - undoubtedly so with his boyish face and bright eyes.

Her own travelled back to the boy who had served her, while John mustered her from top to bottom. 

“C’mon Arthur.”, John said, nodding inside. 

Arthur, yes of course it was Arthur, but the younger not the older. 

Pull yourself together!, she scolded herself, reaching for the biting liquid to steady her shaking heart. 

She hadn’t expected any of it to be easy, but she hadn’t expected it to be this confusing…this difficult. And now she couldn’t even think straight. 

Everything around her was familiar, but not the same, similar but slightly different, all things she had remembered but all things that had changed. 

It made her head spin to the point where she felt ill. 

Downing the drink, she grabbed her purse and pushed out of the new shiny glass door into the cold air in an attempt to steady her racing heart and restless thoughts. 

On their own accord, and with far more sense of direction than her spinning head and racing heart, her feet took her down to the cut.  

The water was even darker and fouler smelling than she had recalled it on the most boiling of summer days.

She wondered how many secrets had disappeared into it’s darkness, which too many times had been witness to hidden truths of her own - words she had only told the sky, the canal and the boy by her side.

In it she could see the reflection of the moon play tricks on the water. Unlike a river, it did not run, but it wasn’t still either. There was always some movement in the cut, even if she didn’t know where it came from.

It contorted her image, so unlike the one it had been the last time she had looked into it’s depth.

But just like back then, all these years ago, a second reflection came up beside her. 

She spun and took a few steps back as precaution only to be met by unimpressed eyes with an eyebrow raised. 

Her mouth dropped open as she stared at him. 

He had grown, of course he had grown, and his cheeks and jaw had gotten sharper with age. A few small lines had been added to the corners of his eyes.

And even though his cap threw a shadow deep into his face, they shone so brightly just like they had always down. 

A breathless gasp escaped her lips as she stared at him, trying to take in all of him while her mind attempted to sort it all, every similarity, every difference. 

Gone were the wide shirts of his brother that were far too broad for him, the trousers that never would have held without the suspenders, and in their place was a well tailored suit. Those long dark lashes still caressed his cheeks and his eyes had lost none of their shine or sharpness, rivalling only the shining gold chain of his pocket watch. 

If she had thought her head was spinning earlier in the Garrison, she had another thing coming as her stomach began to rebel like the time she had been ten years old and tried stolen (and probably spoiled) beer for the very first time. 

He’d held her braids back then, as she threw up all over the cobblestones. 

Now he just watched at her, smoke escaping his lips. 

“So,”, he said, not a trace of emotion in his voice or in his eyes, “you talk funny now.”

Every word was accompanied by their own shape of white which disappeared as quickly as it had come. 

But she didn’t mind in the slightest. Even though his voice had changed in more ways than she could list, they confirmed what she had known as soon as his reflection had appeared beside hers and within the bat of an eyelash she had her arms wrapped around his neck, forgetting all sense of propriety and of dignity that society and their age demanded. 

She hugged him the way she had hugged him when she had been a child, the way she had hugged him for the very last time, fiercely and tightly and wishing she’d never have to let go.

But unlike then he didn’t mirror the desperation of her embrace. 

He smelled of smoke, soap and whisky and a little bit of horse, which brought a smile to her face, as that was how he had smelled since she could remember. 

“I’m so glad.”, she whispered, her breath hot against his neck as tears began to run down her cheeks. “Oh I’m so glad that you’re alright.”

That you’re alive. 

It wasn’t easy to get information about the casualty lists back home. For that, the war was simply too far away, and what little she got was entirely unreliable. The memory of all the hours she had spent reading the lists, all those names. 

It had shamed her to feel as glad as she did for every single name her eyes glossed over, because she felt nothing but relief that it wasn’t his. 

“I always looked for you, for all your names. I couldn’t be sure, Tom. I couldn’t be sure.”

With that she pulled back to look at him, her own vision blurred by tears. She cupped his face, letting her thumb stroke over his cheek as he just looked at her unflinchingly. 

Still, she couldn’t help but smile.

“Oh thank heaven!”, she whispered. 

Slowly, he shook his head. 

“No.”, he whispered under his breath. “Just hell.”

His words were like a string closing up her throat, not only their meaning but also the cold way he had said them. 

And suddenly she wasn’t so sure anymore, about coming here, about embracing him - about anything, really. 

The ice in his voice had wiped all the confidence from her, leaving her helpless and confused. 

What if he no longer cared for her? What if he hated her? What if he hadn’t forgiven her for being too scared to run away with him? 

The only thing worse than his anger would have been his indifference - after she had spent every day and every night for the last decade thinking about him, praying for him, worrying about him. 

Wordlessly he reached out, took her hand and began to walk, pulling her after him as his long strides led them down the length of the cut, away from those parts that led into the city. 

At first she was confused as to what he was doing, but when the old storage units came into sight, the realisation came. 

They had spent countless hours playing hide and seek there, or just hiding, when the rest became to loud or too much to bear. 

“You smoke?”, he asked once he had slowed his steps, leaning against some of the stacked boxes. 

Shelby, the lable read. 

She nodded and so he handed her one of his cigarettes before placing another between his lips. 

Beckoning her forward with a gloved hand, he lit hers first, creating a golden gimmer for less than a second. 

“How’s America?”, he asked, tilting his head as his eyes looked her up and down. 

“Alright, I suppose.”, she said. “We didn’t stay in New York for long. Instead we went further south, all the way to Mississippi. I took a job in a house as a housemaid and later I moved to New Orleans to work in a hotel to make some money.”

To make some money to come back. 

To come back to you.

Only then the war had happened and changed everything. But as soon as it had finally ended, she had scratched together all savings she had collected from the money that didn’t go to her family and bought a passage over. 

It seemed strange to sum up nearly half of her life in so few words, but when she elaborated, it felt wrong. What did it matter if the people she worked for were kind or that New Orleans was a bright wild city?

Tommy had listened without making a sound apart from the crinkling of his cigarette paper. 

She shifted uncomfortably, her feet pushing the dirt back and forth as she didn’t know what to do now.

Even after her own voice had died down, he kept his silence until he was finished with it. 

“Mum’s dead.”

He said it so bluntly, it made her mouth drop open. 

“Oh Tom!”, she whimpered as her mind was flooded of the dark-haired beauty that was - that had been his mother. 

“I am so, so sorry!”

Tommy only shrugged as he tossed the end of his cigarette into the darkness where it’s light died but a moment later. 

“It’s been a long while.”

"How?", she finally managed to ask, her tongue feeling thick and useless in her mouth.

“A bit after you left she got pregnant again. It worked this time, right to the end and she had another boy. Finn. A few months after he was born, she died.”

Finn, the boy who had given her the gin. He had seemed familiar, but he was so tall now. Had it really been so much time that a baby could have grown up in her absence?

“Yep.”, Tommy Shelby said, clearing his throat and glancing out into the darkness. 

“Mum’s dead. Dad left. Ada’s married and had a kid. John’s got five by now. Just us, us and Aunt Pol.”

He nodded as if to confirm his story to himself and even in the dim silver light of the moon she could see him swallow hard. 

“I am so sorry, Tom!”, she whispered, reaching out to touch him again. 

Her hand found his arm and gave it a squeeze, as his head snapped around. 

“Yeah, so am I.”, he admitted, averting his eyes. 

The moon tinted his pale cheeks silver and for a moment it wiped the marks of years from his face. 

The hair was different, the man was different, but he was still her Tom. 

Lacing her arm with his, she leaned her head against his shoulder and allowed herself to weep in silence, for him and for her, for Mrs. Shelby and the way she had been so good at braiding all the girl’s hair, for all the years that had passed and all the pain they couldn’t share. 

She could not tell how long they stayed like that, her leaning into him and him staring off into the distance. 

“Are you back or just passing?”, Tommy finally wanted to know. 

“I don’t know.”, she admitted, almost ashamed at her lack of planning. “I…I didn’t really think things through.”

“Will you leave again?”, he asked. 

“Why?”

He only shrugged.

“Remembered you leaving the last time ‘round.”

She couldn’t answer that, but as her mind went to that time, a cold shudder came over her. 

“I don’t remember the journey over at all.”, she admitted, “just the days before leaving.”

It was unlikely he would have forgotten either.

It had happened so quickly - her parents had already had everything planned, sold and booked by the time they told their children. She had been frightened and distraught. Tommy had been angry and desperate. 

“I remember you and my father fighting. You even punched him.”

Tommy only shrugged as cleary the years hadn’t added a mere iota of regret to him. 

“Wouldn’t have had to if he hadn’t said no.”

Even now she could hear the repressed anger in his voice. 

“Tom, we were kids back then. He never would have said yes!”

His jaw clenched in anger as if preparing to fight a man who was hundreds of miles away. 

He couldn’t possibly still be enraged about that?

“Tommy, you were fifteen. No parent in their right mind would have agreed to let you marry me. We didn’t even knew what marriage was!”

She had barely figured out kissing, but only to the point that it wasn't much fun with anyone, well anyone apart from Tommy and then it had been shy pecks and imitations of what they saw Arthur and the other older kids do, fumbling and foolish ending in red faced laughter and the realisation that it was so completely embarrassing they'd never dare to do it with anyone else.

“Knew it would’ve let you stay.”, he mumbled under his breath, bringing her back to other, far less happy memories.

“Husband comes before the father in the eye of the law. Not even the coppers could ‘ave done something about it.”

She didn’t know where to start on that- Tommy Shelby referencing the law, or relying on the coppers, or perhaps being angry that her father hadn’t allowed his thirteen year old daughter to marry a fifteen year old boy. 

Or that he was still angry about it. 

Crossing her arms over her chest she looked at him in disbelief. 

“Tom-,”, she sighed, “Putting your hurt pride aside, you have to admit you are at least a little bit glad he said no.”

They had known nothing then and if his looks were anything to judge on, he’d have women and girls fawning over him all the way from Bristol to Liverpool. 

“No.”, he merely said with a shrug, “I said what I said and I meant what I said. Nothing’s changed.”

She shook her head in disbelief. 

“Nothing’s changed? You only expect me to believe that? It’s been over a decade!”

He gave no response apart from digging his eyes into her with such intensity it made her stomach coil. 

“Tommy, you don’t even know me anymore. I am a different person now. So are you.”

It wouldn’t do to hold on such old grudges and so she reached out and cupped his cheek. 

“So much has changed since then. The world has changed since then.”

Nations had changed, proud kingdoms had fallen and century old empires that had shone like mythical gods had crashed and crumbled into dusts. Emperors had been deposed, shot, or banished, kings had been deposed and their family members chased through the streets and orders which had shaped the world for as long as anyone could remember were reduced to nothing. 

“That was all in the past.”, she told her. 

He huffed almost in amusement and shifted, burying his hands into his pockets. 

“And yet you’re not married.”

It wasn’t a question but rather a statement of fact. 

“How’d you know?”

“No half decent man would’ve let his woman walk these streets on her own.”, he said, “and there’s no ring on your finger.”

She glanced down and saw her gloves, but before she could ask, he remembered how he had taken her hand to lead her away, thereby getting his answer without having to ask. 

Sneaky bastard. 

“New Orleans, eh?”, he continued, looking at her again and trapping her with his gaze. “That’s a long fucking way to come for something that’s in the past.”

His words made her cheeks burn. 

“Yeah thought so.”, he said more to himself than to her when he realised she couldn’t find an adequate response. 

“Still, Tom.”, she argued, “we were children back then, who knew nothing and understood even less.”

And now we’ve seen too much, you probably more than me. 

It would be foolish to pretend otherwise. 

“Did you come with a suitcase?”, he asked, catching her off guard once more. 

“I…I did, but why?”

“Got any trousers in that suitcase of yours?”

“No, why?”, she asked, a frown ever growing on her forehead. 

“‘s alright. We’ll find some of Finn’s.”, he said softly. 

“For what?”

There was a glint in his eyes that came from more than just the skies and she even imagined the faintest hint of a smile. 

She knew that glint. It had gotten her into a fair share of trouble and not a small amount of beatings when they had been caught doing whatever mischief that mind of his came up with.

Of course, he'd always tried to take the blame, but that rarely swayed the hands of the adults.

“Because we’ll go to Charlie’s yard and get you sorted and then we’ll take the horses and go out into the country like we used to and only come back once we’ve figured everything out.”

Her mouth dropped open at his suggestion. 

It was ludicrous. Back then they had been children hiding under trees and among meadows, but two adults? 

It would never work, not truly. It would be cold and uncomfortable. They’d have to get food from somewhere and find or build shelter. 

There were a thousand reasons to call his idea madness, to throw it into the winds as soon as he had spoken it.

Seeing her hesitation she saw a glimmer of worry in his eyes. 

As he closing the distance between them, he pulled off his gloves and shoved them into his coat pocket. 

She felt the warmth radiating from his skin as he cupped her face. 

“Please come with me this time around, (Y/N/N).”, he whispered. “Come with me so I don’t have to see you leave again.”

End

~

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed. As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Taglist

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Taglist Tommy

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#valentineswritings #A thousand reasons and one #Tommy Shelby #Peaky Blinders #Thomas Shelby #Tommy Shelby x reader #Thomas Shelby x reader #Tommy Shelby imagine #Thomas Shelby imagine #Tommy Shelby fanfic #Thomas Shelby fanfic #Tommy Shelby fluff #Thomas Shelby fluff #valentinesrequests

[cevansbrat0007]

Public Displays of Affection

Summary: When an encounter with another parent at the girls' school crosses the line, you debate over whether or not you should tell your husband...

Warnings: Smut, Anxious Reader, Angry Andy Barber, Jealous/Possessive Andy Barber, Kyle the Douchebag, Public Sex, Cursing, Mild Threats of Violence, Slight Daddy Kink, Minors DNI

A/N: Written in part for @joyfulblazedelusion who enjoys jealous/possessive Andy. I'm still noodling your *actual* request, but I hope you enjoy this! Part of my ongoing Growing Pains Series. Please let me know what you think! Not beta'd. All mistakes my own.

___

You let out a sigh as you turn on Hidden Hills Drive. All you had to do was drop off the baskets in your trunk and then you could be on your way. The whole thing wouldn’t take more than five minutes tops…

Hitting a button in your car, you dial Kyle Higgins, the President of the PTA where your two little girls went to school. Newly single, the man was considered to be Cedarwood Prep’s most eligible bachelor. And you could see why.

Although you were happily married, there was no denying that the man was attractive. He was tall, his body packed with lean muscle, a megawatt smile, and abs that just would not quit. Kyle was nice enough, sure, but the problem was that he had recently taken an interest in you that had moved beyond the realm of casual friendliness.

Which had led to a pretty big problem, along with a secret you’d been keeping from your spouse for the last several days. 

“Hello?” A male voice blares over your car’s speakers. 

“Hi Kyle, it’s Y/N. I’ll be pulling up in a minute. Just meet me outside for the handoff and I’ll be out of your hair.    

“Sounds good. See you shortly.”

“Yep.”

The call ends right as you pull into his long driveway, just in time for him to jog outside and over to your SUV.

“Baskets are in the trunk.” You tell him, hitting the unlock button.

“Great, thanks. Uh…how have you been?” He lingers by your door.

“Fine.” You mumble, wanting him to get a move on.

“Good, good. Um, yeah. That’s…that’s good.”

“Yep.” You nod at his words, trying to avoid making eye contact. 

Oh, great, Kyle. Let’s go ahead and make this nice and awkward.

“I really am sorry about what happened the other night. Truly, Y/N. I - I was out of line.”

“It’s fine, Kyle. Just grab the stuff and I’ll be out of your hair.”

“No, no it’s not. But I do appreciate your understanding…and for not telling Andy. I’d hate to cause a problem between you two.”

Huh? 

“He’s my husband, Kyle. Just because I haven’t told him yet doesn’t mean I’m not going to. We don’t keep secrets like that.”

Which sucked, because this was one of those times where you desperately wished that you could. 

The man leans inside your open window. “All I’m saying is that it was a mistake. I made a mistake, alright? I’m owning that. But the last thing I need is Andrew Barber coming after me with a baseball bat or something.”

No need to worry about that, Kyle. My husband is more a rip you apart with his bare hands kinda guy.

“Well, I’m telling him. Tonight. So…I don’t know what else to say other than that I accept your apology, so…can you please just grab the shit so we can be done?

“Yeah. Sorry.” He scrubs a hand over his strong, stubbled jaw before starting to unload your trunk.

Dear God, you couldn’t wait to get out of here…

___

Later that night…

You and Andy are sitting in his home office one evening after putting the girls to bed. 

“What’s wrong, baby girl?” Your husband asks as he goes to sip the tea you just brought him. “Shit, that’s hot!” He hisses, quickly setting the mug back on his desk. 

Softly blowing into your own cup, you try to choose your words carefully. “I…have to tell you something, but before I do you have to promise not to get upset, okay?” You watch his eyes darken as he leans back in his chair. 

“And why would I need to do that, Y/N?”

“Andy, can you please just promise me that –”

“No.”

“Fine.” You huff before rising from the couch. “I do have to tell you something, but I can’t have you flying off the handle.” You head for the door, but just as you reach it, his big body moves to block your own. 

“Y/N, sweetheart, can please sit down and tell me whatever it is you have to tell me so that I can get pissed about it and move on already?” Andy gently grabs your elbow and steers you back to your former perch. Once you’re settled, he takes a seat on the arm. 

“I don’t really think I want to anymore.” You grumble, sensing that no matter how you phrased this, things would not be good. Your Big Man raises one imposing brow as he waits for you to start speaking. 

“So remember when I told you that I’ve been helping Kyle Higgins’ some of the other parents with Cedarwood’s upcoming fundraiser?”

“Yeah.” He shrugs. “And?” 

“And, well, the other night it was just me and Kyle. And we, um, well we got to talking and he told me that he and Trish split up. Mind you, they’ve been having problems lately. Like, a lot of problems. He and I have talked about it here and there. But he was upset, you know? I mean, understandably so.”

“That sucks. Get to the point, baby. I’m ready to take you up to bed.” Andy leans over to kiss your neck, only to be surprised when you pull away. 

Let’s see if that’s still true in a moment. You think to yourself as you prepare to rip the band-aid.

“He was upset and he was venting, and in a moment of complete and total insanity he kind of kissed me.” You squeak out in a rush. 

Your man’’s icy blue gaze quickly finds yours. “You wanna run that by me again?”

Um…no.

“It happened super fast, but I pushed him away and - and he apologized.”

“He kissed you.” Andy growls, his brows drawn together in confusion. 

“Yes, but –”

“On Tuesday.”

“Yes, honey. On Tuesday and –”

“But you’re telling me this now. On a Thursday.” You watch as the tick in his jaw grows more pronounced with each passing second. 

Oh, shit.

“Why the fuck didn’t you say anything when it happened two days ago?”

“Jesus, Andy! Because I wasn’t even sure what to say. It’s not like I kissed him back or anything!”

“Believe me, Y/N, if I thought you had - even for a second - I’d be in the car and halfway to Higgins’ fucking house right now.” Andy snarls before he stands and starts to pace. “I mean what the hell?! His goddamned wife walks out on him so he tries to go after mine?”

Oh, your Big Man was not happy. Not by a longshot…

“Please don’t be upset. Really, nothing happened other than that one little kiss. And I squashed it immediately.”

“Good. But that doesn’t mean I’m not still planning to squash him, though.”

“Andy Bear, please don’t –”

“Oh, please don’t what?” He snipes. “If the situation were reversed and that had been me and Cassandra, you’d be ready to claw her eyes out right about now.” 

True. But that kind of logic wasn’t helping the situation. Plus, you hated that entitled bitch, so…yeah.

“Okay, okay. I get your point. And you’re right. But after tomorrow’s party we won’t have to deal with him anymore, okay?”

Your husband pauses his back and forth movements to glower at you. 

“You’re crazy if you think we’re still going to that shit.”

“Sweetheart, I’m one of the few who helped plan the event. We have to at least make an appearance.” You go to him, your small hands cup his face so you can lightly tickle his burning ears. “We’ll be there for an hour tops, and I promise to stay attached to your hip the whole time, okay?”

More glowering.

“Do it for the girls.” You tell him, nibbling at your lower lip. “Do it for the charity fund.”

“Fine. But if Kyle Higgins so much as looks at you wrong, I’m drowning him in the punchbowl.”

“Understood, Big Man. I’ll even offer to help you.” You playfully reassure him, rising on your tiptoes to give him a kiss. “I love you, baby.”

“Uh huh.” He huffs.

 “Hey! Say it back.” You pout. “Or no more kisses for you.” Instead of responding, Andy picks you up and carries you over to his big, mahogany colored desk. 

“You’re mine.” He growls softly, brushing his lips over yours again and again as he sits you down. “Say it.”

“I’m yours.” You murmur. “I’ve always been yours.”

“You’re damn right about that.” He grunts before whipping your shirt over your head, his thick fingers digging into your hips as he takes control of your body. “Now, see that it stays that way.”

“Yes, Sir.” You moan as his sharp teeth graze the sensitive skin of your now bare shoulder.

Well. You think. So much for denying Andrew Barber your kisses.

___

That Friday evening…

After handing your keys over to the valet, you and Andy are ushered into Kyle Higgin’s immaculate home. Andy’s spine remains rigid as you step into the foyer, his gorgeous blue eyes scanning the area for the man he deemed a rival.

“Andy! Y/N! So glad to see you!” Higgins calls out as he races down the stairs to greet you both. “Welcome to Cedarwood’s Annual Charity Gala.” He immediately goes to shake Andy’s hand.

Your husband begrudgingly accepts the proffered hand, his mouth set in a firm line as he does. 

“How’s it going, man? Haven’t seen you in ages.”

“Fine.” Andy grunts.

“Err, well that’s good. And wow, Y/N. Gettahold of you in that dress - you look positively stunning! You’re a very lucky man, Barber.

“I know. My wife looks gorgeous in everything she wears.”

“Andy.” You gently admonish. “Thank you, Kyle. That’s very sweet of you to say.” 

“I’m only telling the truth.” He leans down to kiss your cheek, his lips lingering for a few seconds too long, while his fingers lightly graze the small of your back.

“Let me show where everyone is.”

Hopefully this hour would fly by.

___

With the party now in full swing, everything seems to be going just fine. Well, almost. So long as you didn’t count Kyle. With the exception of his earlier handsiness, he hadn’t touched you again. But that hadn’t stopped him from leering at you. His eyes tracing every curve of your body that was hidden beneath your gown. 

You didn’t like it. It made you feel as if he was undressing you with his eyes right there in the open, in full view of your increasingly irritated husband.   

Of course Andy notices, his proprietary grip on your waist never letting up, not even for a second. 

“I’m going to break his jaw.” 

“No, Andy Bear. You can’t do that. Think of the children.”

“I will. After I break his fucking jaw.” He murmurs. “Which I will do if he doesn’t stop looking at you like he wants to fuck you.”

“I know. It’s pissing me off too. It’s like he just doesn’t know when to quit.”

“Yeah.” Andy agrees. “Either that or he’s trying to antagonize me on purpose.”

Yeah, that thought had crossed your mind too.

“Well, let’s not let him get to us. How about you be a gentleman and escort me to the restroom instead?”

“Of course, baby.” He presses a quick kiss just behind your ear.

After asking one of the staff, they’re nice enough to direct you towards the guest bathrooms. You make it halfway there before your husband pulls you into a room just off the hall.

“What are you –?” Your question is interrupted when Andy’s mouth crashes into your own, his large hands roaming over every square inch of your body. The scent of passion in the air fuels your frenzied movements as you scramble to lock the door behind you.

“Oh God…” You whimper as your feral husband flips your body so that your face is pressed against the cool surface of the wall. “Andy, baby, calm down.”

“I am calm, Y/N.” He lets out a feral snarl as he rucks the material of your dress up around your hips before unbuckling his pants. “I just don’t like that he put his mouth on you, on what’s mine.” One of his hands finds your panties and then you hear it – 

RIP!

The sound of the fabric tearing only adds to the wetness rapidly pooling between your thighs.  

“I - oh shit!” You cry out as he enters you in one quick, hard thrust. You shove your fist in your mouth in an attempt to muffle your cries. Holy crap, your man was fucking you deep! 

“His eyes haven’t left you all night. Fucker wants what’s mine.”

“Ungh, baby!” You keen as he hits that special spot inside of you. “Fuckin’ me just right. Ownin’ this pussy, Daddy!”

“That’s right. Who do you belong to, baby girl?” His hips continue to piston out of you at an increasingly erratic pace. “Fucking tell me!”

“You, Andy! Ooh, ooh, ooh - I’m yours, honey!”

“Damned right you are. And don’t you ever forget it. Force my hand and I’ll take you in every room of this pissant’s house while he watches.”

Your man is giving it to you so good that you can feel your eyes rolling in the back of your head. You couldn’t help but love how possessive he could be, because he inspired the same feelings in you. You were his for now and forever…

And deep down you knew he would never let you go. Not that you wanted him to. Wild moments like these only served to remind you that you were completely and unequivocally his. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.   

“Yeah, Y/N. That’s it, little love.” He croons as he works you over, your entire body thrumming with unbridled pleasure. “Take it all from me. Take everything I’m giving you. Want everyone out there to know just how much I own you.”

“Uh huh!” You can feel it building, that sense of overwhelming pressure. You were so close.

“I’m gonna - gonna cum, Daddy! Oh, fuck I’m gonna cum, ooooh!”

“Oh, yeah. Milk me my cock, baby. Use those sweet muscles to milk me dry. Want you to take every drop of me.” His filthy words are all it takes to send you hurtling over the edge, with your husband being quick to follow.

“Jesus.” You murmur moments later as you try to catch your breath, your still quivering legs feeling like jelly. “Holy shit, Big Man.” You take another breath. “I think you might’ve killed me.” 

“Never, Y/N.” Your husband helps right your dress before fixing his own rumpled clothing.

“We’re leaving now, my sweet baby girl. Let’s go.” You attempt to reach for your ruined panties, wanting to clean yourself up as much as you could without having to go resume your search for the bathroom. 

“No.” Andy stops you so he can bend down to pick them up himself. He holds them to his nose, inhaling your earthy scent before safely tucking them in his suit pocket. “I want him to smell us, want that limp fuck to see the proof of me dripping down your legs so that he knows that I just wrecked your tight little cunt in his goddamned house. Want him to know that that’s the closest he’ll ever get to having you for himself.” His hands move to cup your breasts, giving them a harsh squeeze. 

“Andy…” 

“C'mon. I’m ready to take you home and make love to you in our own bed.” His arm returns to your waist once again to guide you out of the room and down the hall towards the exit so you can say “goodbye” to your host...

While your husband’s seed threatens to slide down your thighs with every step you take.

Once you’re through, Andy makes good on his promise of taking you to bed where he takes his time loving all over every sweet inch of your willing little body.  

___

One week later…

Andy and his buddies are playing a round of golf at the Summit County Country Club. It had been a week since the party at Kyle Higgin’s home, a week since he’d fucked his wife all but senseless with a crowd of people barely three rooms over. 

No regrets there.

A little birdie had let it slip that Kyle would be here today, which is why he’d elected to take off work in the middle of the week. It was historically unlike him, but seeing as he and the other man had some unfinished business to take care of, he’d made the judgment call.

Did his wife know that he was planning to confront Higgins? Nope.

Was he going to tell her? Not if he could help it.

Andy’s on his third round when he finally spots his prey golfing on a nearby green. Shoving his iron back in his bag, he loads it into the cart before turning to his buddies. “I’ll be right back, guys.” He tells them. “I need to go have a word with a dear friend of mine real quick.”

“Don’t hurt him too bad, bro.” His pal, Mick, jokes with a laugh. “We still have a few more holes to play!”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He mutters as he strides over to the subject of his disgust.

“Yo, Higgins.” Andy calls out.

“Hey, Barber.” He responds with a friendly wave. “ Fancy seeing you here. How’s it going?”

“Need a word.”

“Ah, okay.” The two men walk off a little ways from the other golfers.

“Look, Andrew.” Kyle starts before Andy can say another word. “I, uh, appreciate you being so cool about what happened the other day. I know I overstepped, man. I was completely and totally out of line, but I do appreciate you not beating me to a pulp. Not sure I would’ve had the same kind of restraint.” 

You owe my wife and your Maker for that one, buddy. 

“But I said it before and I’ll say it again, you’re a very lucky man. Y/N is a very special lady. It’s like she’s got this air of magic about her, you know what I mean?”

No shit, Sherlock. Why do you think I swooped her up when I did? 

“You think I don’t know that? I literally worship the fucking ground that woman walks on. And I don’t appreciate you trying to insert yourself somewhere you’re not welcome.”

“I get it, man. I made a bad call. I’ve just been so caught up in my own shit that I misread the signals and –”

“So you thought it was a good idea to go after my girl? Is that what you’re saying?” Andy is quick to cut him off. “Because there were no signals. I’m gonna be real honest with ya, buddy. I’d tread carefully if I were you, because my wife’s not here to keep my temper in check.”

“Come on now, Barber…we’re both adults here.”

“Oh, I’m serious. The sound of her voice is like music to my ears. Soothes the savage beast inside me and all that crap.”  

Kyle takes a step backwards, holding up his hands. “I get it, I get it. You have my word that it won’t happen again. I’ll keep my hands to myself.” Kyle attempts to assure him.

“Good. See that you do.” Andy takes one aggressive step towards him, and then another. “But just so you understand something, I claimed my woman ten years, four months, and seventeen days ago. And I ain’t giving her up for shit. Attempt to fuck with our happiness again and this will be you.”

Without further explanation, Andy takes the other man’s club from his hands and proceeds to bend it nearly in half, his muscles bunching and flexing underneath the fabric of his navy blue golf shirt. 

“Oops. Looks like you’ll be needing a new putter. You’d better get on that.” Clapping  a shaken Kyle on his shoulder a little harder than necessary, Andy saunters off to rejoin his group without so much as another word.

Nobody messed with his wife or his family. Nobody touched what belonged to him. 

Call him protective, call him possessive. Whatever. He truly did not give a fuck.

Because Andrew Barber was a territorial son of a bitch. And he didn’t plan on changing anytime soon…not even for his sweet little wife. 

END 

#chris evans #andy barber #andrew barber #chris evans x black!reader #chris evans x woc!reader #andy barber x black!reader #andy barber x woc!reader #chris evans smut #andy barber smut #chris evans imagines #andy barber imagines #chris evans fanfic #andy barber fanfic #cevansbrat0007 asks #chris evans x black reader #andy barber x black reader #chris evans x woc reader #andy barber x woc barber #cevansbrat0007 fics #cevansbrat0007growing pains series #defending jacob fics #defending jacob

[oh-for-fic-sake-library]

The Saxon Heathen

Masterlist

Summary: jarl geralt is excitedly awaiting the return of his raiders, aboard one of the longships was his gift from the allfather. His vision was of a saxon heathen, a woman. His intended. Butlittle did he know that this woman would eagerly butt heads with him , for she belongs to no one, least of all an albeit handsome brute.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of brutality, viking AU,

A/N: so a little au jarl viking geralt and a crazy pagan saxon for you.i always wondered what a a viking would have done with a saxon heathen. Anyway i hope you enjoy my little slice of madness.

Caution not beta'd ignor the typos because i am.

Four days. For four days the jarl had been on the dock watching the horizon. Waiting for the sails of his clan to break through the thick autumnal fog, the grey that muted the blue of the open sea. He was like a statue, unmoving, patiently gazeing out in to the distance with purpose awaiting the arrival of his gift.

The jarl was not built for this longing. He conquered, argued and roared in the midst of battle. He was true to his clan, fought and bled for them, re-emerged from deaths grip countless of times. Others called him a gods champion. A chosen of odin, which spurred his own clans feirce loyalty to him. Especially when his hair had turned into the brilliant white before his ageing. His eyes had always fascinated the others in the village , the light amber akin to that of wolf. Earning him the title of White wolf. Yet now with his hair he truely looked otherwordly. Some called him asgaurdian others uttered he was and odinson. But truth be told he was unsure what caused such looks. He never questioned the gods, never asked for reasons, only ever wprshipped them.

And now his unyielding love and loyalty to them had brought forth a boon. Geralt jarl of Rivia had been granted a vision, a premonition from the very gods he adored. The seer of the clan had shared in his minds sight, it would seem the gods did not see fit to give the wolf privacy on such matters.

The vision told of an arrival, a great boon from the gods. A warrior. A woman. She will step on this shoreline with a fierce fury that only the valkyrie should know. She was a roaring fire that would know no taming, a force to be reckoned with. A strangly familiar saxon, who was not a weeping wisp of a thing. He dare say she was a a distant cousin of his own kin. For in his vision he felt a pressence similar to a sheildmaidens.

All he knew was this female entity was intended for him. She was a gift from his gods. His treasure from a distant land, she was here for him. He would captivate her and lure her to his side. Like a flame beckoning a moth he will become irresistible to her, she will come to him even at the risk of peril. And once he insnares her she will birth him his heirs, gift him his own batallion of fierce warriors to conquer new lands.

Geralt knew it was close, his warriors were returning home and would land anyday. So he sat and watched, sometimes fished to pass time, showing the younger ones how to cast a net properly to keep them from under their parents feet. But mostly he was still, gazing out into the fog that thickened each day, the autum veil signalled the return of his clansmen. He needed to remain and see this woman as she set foot on his dock.

It was the deep bellow of a horn that alerted him. He drew a deep breath, steeling himself as he heard their call. The resounding long drawn low sound of his clansmen and their yells as they took to the oars and began sailing through the small estuary towards thier home. Others came to the beach and the once quiet dock became a hub of excitement. And with swift stroke along the water the long boat peeled through the fog, the mast sliceing through the smoke like tendrils of ashen coloured sky. He grinnedmfeeling his chest tighten with an odd relieved anxiety. He couldnt wait for them to moore.

You screeched as a rage youd never felt before engulfed you like the very flames that curled around your home those weeks ago. Your battle cry drew the attention of everyone on the docks and long boat's. Saxons and norsemen. Before anyone could stop you, youd jumped the side of the boat and thundered down the dock towards the priest whod dared to comment on your mothers passing. Curseing you and her with scathing words as he exited the boat in shackles with the other Christians.

You had enough of his shit.

You tucked your head and shoulder slightly as you colided with one of the large norsemen that had tried to stop your assault. The huge male had shuffled quickly, widening his arms and bent his knees ready to capture you before you could damage any of the others. But his strength and size did not best your utter rage and you somehow managed to barrel into him sending him off balance and into the cold frigid water below.

Years of rage and hate for the male before you seemed to gift you with the power of something greater. And without a second of hesitation you ducked and body slammed the now yelling, quivering preist sending him to the ground. Your hands may still be tied but you were going to kill him. You were going to kill him!

Your scuffle drew a crowd as you began screaming at the priest who was crying out for help. But the norsemen watched in amusent as you headbutted him cracking his nose drawing a high cry from him. He fell flat on his back and you clambered over him pinning and kneeing him, stomping and kicking where you could. All the qhile screaming like a banshee at him, taunts and curses a-plenty.

The norsemen had noticed on the voyage that you were different. The other saxons spat at you naming you a heathen. A pagan. Two words they didnt fully understand but were used to describe themselves. From what theh could understand you did not worship the saxons god. And the saxons hadnt known you were in the woods, you were belived to be a myth.

Your cabin was hidden away from the settlement they had plundered, decorated in bones and feathers with oddities placed around the door. Carvings and cut stones littering your tiny homestead. You were almost like them in a way.

"Ill be sure to send you to your god! You vile fuck! She was my mother! My mother!!" You yelled tears burning your eyes as your rage flowed freely. You rolled around twisting your hips and captured the preists head between your thighs and hooked one ankle behinde the other.

The norsemen laughed clapping and whistling ,uttering praises as you coiled around your victim like a snake, and much like a snakes prey, the preist could do little more then squirm and squeak. But you paid no mind instead concentrated on popping this snivelling man head clean off his shoulders.

"How does it feel to be sent to your god from between a heathens thighs!?" You shouted hooking your ankles together and clenched your thighs tighter. He flicked his feet out in desperation but nothing would distract you from your task. Not even when the crowd parted letting a huge silver haired male step to the front and watch the show. You felt his arrival but did not pay any mind. You were too preoccupied with attempted murder.

Geralt watched with a sense of pride.his woman was spirited, wild and beautiful. Her thick mane of glossy hair whipped about her as she wrestled on the ground with the poor male. Hecouldnt help his cock twitcing at the sight. Her skirts hiked up around her knees as she captured her prey. The thick mud painting her skin as she tried to murder the man.

Fuck. his eyes locked on the supple yet strong thighs clamped around the males neck. He was almost jealous of her victim, he wanted to feel the sliken skin of her inner thigh caressing his own face. Though when it was his turn to test the strenght of her leg it would be for an entirely different reason. She would tense them around him in ecstasy, not anger.

"Gods above, they did not lie." The seer hummed almost as entranceed by the seen as his jarl was. He didnt bpdare look away from the valkyrie before him, instead only speaking when he felt his jarl stand beside him.

"Indeed she is truly magnificent, to grow with such ferocity in a land full of cowards and piss ants" geralt replied a grin crossing his face as his female began taunting the godly man. She was ost definitely a heathen.

"Huh? Oh what your speechless?! Nothing to preach whilst being strangled by skirts!?"your qords drew laughterfrom all of the northmen some even calling out silver coins betting on how long the preist would survive such an assault.

"She has a wit about her as well as fire. You are truly blessed" the seer chuckled along with the others. He knew she was ging to fit right in. And possibly give their jarl a challenge, the next few ,onths were going to be amusing. Though the allfather granted geralt this delightful boon, the jarl was still going to have to work for it. Afterall the gods need to create their own entertainment occasionally. And this was certainly entertaining.

"Jarl- should we intervene?" One of the men asked growing weary of the priest now beginning to change colour. A deep red fading to purple.

"No, for now let her have her fun." Geralt uttered still enjoying the sight of his half bare queen rolling around in the mud attempting murder.

"She will kill the slave, you know this" the seer utters knowingly. There was a slight displeasure. Geralt had swore the next priest caught would be gifted to him. The seer wanted to toy with one of the saxons. To try and break them ad convert them to their own gods.

"It would be a good death, to die between such supple thighs" another clansmen spo,e up with a deep laughothers joined his laughter agreeing with him. Gerlat stiffened and shuffled on his feet. He did not like that one bit.

"I doubt the preist feels the same."

"It is not death i shall obtain between them, but perhaps a taste of valhalla-" the first man began but didnt get to finish his statement as geralt snarled feeling a wave of possessive jealousy risewithin. He turned on the man so swiflty the later almost staggered back defensively.

"She is not to be touched. Any who try will loose more then their hands" geralt sneered at the crowd of men thatwere clearly planning on trying to have his woman for themselves, perhaps all at once.

Gerlat panted in rage, eyes darkening a growl boiling in his chest frightening those around him. It was rare to see the jarl so enraged outside of the battlefield. They all looked away averting their eyes from their jarl and the woman on the ground. None wanted to cross him, or risk his anger by eyeng the beauty.

It was when geralt was sure he made his point that he looked away from the men. His amber eyes found his woman oonce kore. He grunted, as much as he enjoyed the veiw of her bare legs he did not li,e that the others could also appreciate the sight her supple skin. Her body was for his eyes. Not theirs.

"Jarl? You are considering a slave? You never; its unlike you to take intrest in the saxons past their gold" one male dared speak up when he noticed his jarls attention was back on the woman.

"Slave? No. She is much more then a mere saxon slave. She is a gift All father sent me visions. A ferocious saxon beauty would arrive. My own woman to tame, and when i do the clan will prosper. We will all enjoy the favour of the gods!" He declared, trying to ignore the tense few moments he'd had with his own clansmen.

The crowd cheered as the jarl promised the blessing of the gods. He smiled, but his eyes peered at the two warriors who had tried to taint his new found bride with there mocking words. They each shrunk under the predatory gaze thwt earned him his name. And then nodded back off letting theier jarl know they would not interfere with the gods plans.

Geralt smiled befor stalking up to the woman and blue priest. He chuckled it was both arousing and adorable the way she trapt him so thoroughly. He couldnt wait to get her wrapped around him. Though he may hav to wait some time before letting her mount his own shoulders, she had a good grip and even he may have some trouble pulling her off if she decided to suffocate him with her thighs.

You ignored the way everyone around you seemed to quiet down, or the footsteps that halted beside you. Two muddy leather boots stopped by your head, your eyes flicked up the pength of male and found a truley magnificent man. The odd silver hair and amber eyes addedto the godly ethereal look. Not that he was slight in any way. Taller then all saxons youd seen, and wider too. Not that he was fat, no his size wasnt a result of greed and there was no typical beer belly. He was solid, strong as an ox.

"Release him woman" he grunted down at you tapping you with the toe of his boot lightly whilst crossjngnhis arms and smirking down at you amused. You snarled at him wordlessly before drawing a muffled yelp from your victim tensing your legs once more.

"I said release him" the man repeated his voice stern and deep, full of warning. You shuddered unable to stop the strange wave of heat washing over you. You thighs stiffened pai fully, trying to clench from his growled words. You frowned you didnt li,e thatat all. No man had ever effected you in such a way. It only fueled your rage.

"Not untill hes dead! He thanked his god for my mothers painful death! Celebrated her burning alive! Cursed her soul! Tried to condemn her to an eternal suffering!" You yelled up at the tall pompus ass. You were trying to be angry at him, but something was stopping you. Attraction maybe? No. Somthing else, something deeper. Your soul recognised him, seeing him was like kin who had been astranged finally reuniting. His mere presence felt like thick blankets on a cold day, safe and warm.

"He is a valuable slave and will serve us well in the coming winter. Now release your thighs lest i pry them open myself woman" You faltered for a moment, you tummy tightening.our pussy fluttered at the insinuation. Your eyes flicked to his large hands. God's yes. You wouldnt mind being handled by him, thats for sure. You shook your head ridding yourself of the momentary weakness and bared your teeth at him.

"Try it old man and youll be next!" No geralt was definitely not letting you enjoy his mouth for some time. A punishment youd not know he'd given you untill you had given in to him. Though if he had done his job right by that point youd rather ride his cock each night.

"I warned you woman" he shrugged before ducking down, bending over you scalding you with his hands as they descended on your bare legs. You yelped out loud and cursed him as he slotted a palm between your tights, the other hand encircled one ankle. And with a sharp shucking motion as if flicking out a damp towel the preist was free.

"Agh? Hey wait no! Let me go: get off im almost finished!" You screamed wriggling, kicking as the huge man held you up by your thigh and ankle. He laughed at your curses and vengeful cries. As you saw the deathly blue priest scrabble away from your reach gasping for air.

You squeaked as the amber eyed asshat swooped you upright, throwing you around like you were a tiny weightless child. And without any care to you or the onlookers you were pressed against his crotch tightly. Legs instinctively locking around his waist, and arching towards him afraid of falling back. He hummed and held you, supporting your entire weight with one hand under your bottom. You shuddered as the other still held your ankle behind him. The hot palm slowly rubbing across your leg in teasing feather light caresses.

"There now. Doesn't this feel much better?" He boasted, teasing you by arching his hips into yours lettig you feel his manhoods delight at havingmyour heat smothering him. Your face flamed as the others around you laughed at their jarls supposed victory. You werent having that.

"Id rather have my thighs wrapped around the preist if im honest" you sneered at him drawing even louder laughs from the crowd. You grinned as he frowned quickly, a wave of embarrassment rushing over him,he was unprepared for that.

"We'll see about that when you are astride me." He replied, archign up into your heat once more only thing time he made a show of rubbing you against him, grinding you over his bulge with the hand on your rump.

"Doubtfull" you stuttered trying to keep the pleasure from your voice as your body ignited in a blaze of wanton need. Your warmth clenching tightly urging you to wlecome this barbarian into your hidden depths and discover true rapture.

"Shall we put it to the test?" He tried again to subdue you in a battle of wills. But you were determined to be more then a sodden hole for these savages! Youll be a force to be reckoned with!

"Oh so not even you know the outcome of me atop of you? Not a promising start" you countered, your stubborn pride far to precious to forgo for a decent fuck.

"As good a start as you trying to murder a preist in the dirt with your thighs seconds of entering my village"

"Atleast mine was effective"he scoffed at you before capturing your neck firmly. Tucking his hand tightly below your jaw making you whine and melt against him. He smirked inching his face closer to yours slowly, seductively. Tilting your face up to his and brushed noses wih you as if you were intimate lovers.

"Not that effective. Afterall you didnt finish. But i assure you once your seated on me you will most definitely finish" his tease took a turn, making you flush brightly and gape at him. It wasnt his words that affected you, but the intensity. The way he held you so firmly, held your gaze with his own half lidded hungry eyes. And the way his cock throbbed against you, teasing you with sharp pulsing tremors that made your own needy center weep. You squirmed trying to dislodge his thick member that had crept between your parted legs. His own breeches were the only thing that seperated his need from your own quivering sex. You swallowed dryly trying to think of anything other then the strong male's club poised at your womanly seam, or the way you dampened his breeches with your deceptive arousal.

"I appear to have subdued you quickly enough with little more then words and collar. Do not look so vexed, it is a good thing to know when you are outmatched bu your betters; FUCK!" His victorious words were cut off with a pained yelp as you did the only thingmyou could to shut him up. Used your head. Litterally.

"Im sorry did the big bad barbarian, who clearly outmatches me not see that headbutt coming?" You teased ignoring the pain blossoming in your fore head after hittingnhim so hard with it. You smiled at the sight of blood pooling behind his now fattened lip. If you go down you'll go down swinging.

"I dont see how you didnt see it? I am six inches from your face;HMMFFT!?" Gerlat lunged forward with a growl pressing his lips against yours before sucking your bottom lip into his mouth. For a moment you lost yourself, closing your eyes and relaxing as the taste of honeyed mead met your tongue. You lapped at him in a iitten lick seeking more only to pull back yelping as his teeth locked onto your lip and he bit down. Hard.

"YOU FUCKING BIT ME!?" He smiled at you hungry licking his lip, drawjng the bead of red from it. Tasting you with a pleased growl. You could only stare at the erotic sight.

"Blood for blood woman. And now ours is mingled. We are bound by it." His words made you weak. You werent sure why, or what he meant exactly. But you were not something to be taken claimed and owned.

"Bound by blood? Are you fucking crazy?! You drew blood!" Your anger boiled in your bones as you began to understand he thought he had just earned himself a prize. Instead of denying you claims he grinned showing off red glazed teeth.

"I did, id not let a woman so Fiesty escape me, your fire will bode well for our sons" he preened, flaunting his new claim proudly. He couldnt care less if you disagreed. And oath in blood was unbreakable. And it had been you to initiate it,He had simply retunred inkind seali g the deal. He had won.

"Sons? Hell no! Put me down-unbind me! Now you fucking savage!!" Your aggravation ignited once more into a loud display of rage. You swore at him , squirming and lunging at him, yet did not bite in fear of binding yourself to him a second time in some odd barbaric custom!

"I will unbind you once yoou when you yeild to our bond and not a second before" he anounced casually

"Then i will die in these shackles!" You declared with a snarl.

"I very much doubt that. But fear not drakeling. I shall tend to your every need in your bound state. You will succumb the gods have foretold your submission" he promised both soothing and baiting you. He enhjoyed your rage, especially the way you squirmed in the throes of anger, rubbing and grinding across his fornt unintentionally milking his cock in his own clothes. All the while his teaseing had achived his desired effect he found himself granting you the title of a dragons young. Drakeling was fitting, small and mighty. Something that will grow into a powerful, fearsome beast, but for now was a mere sliver of its own greatness.

"Absolutly not! Put me down you asshole! UNBIND ME NOW!" his reply was a swift open palm to your backside, loud and booming making you rise and squeak as your ass burned.

"My my such a demanding thing you are~ so aggressive. Perhaps you need feeding? Tell me drakeling, should i see to your cold empty tummy? Would you like me to fill it for you?" He teased turnng towards the long house paying no mind to the way you yelled and kicked at him. He laughed and held you tighter. Deciding in that moment he really would keep you bound. Youd be fed by his hand alone, he wouuld tend to you, wash and dress you, cater to your every desire until, you bend to his will and sought him out for your own pleasure and comfort.

Thats not to say he wouldn't pleasure you in the mean time, he would. His nights would be spent worshipping your body, toying with you for hours on end untill you are a quivering woman panting in a puddle of your own makeing, though youd never finish, or have the honour of warming his cock. No, he would withold that final pleasure untill you were his mind body and soul. And he couldnt wait.

"Come let us feast!" He called out to his clan. The crowd cheered excitedly. The night would be one they would all remember. Even if it was just because of the blood bound saxon heathen putting on a show for all to see, their jarl was certainly in for a long courtship.

#henry cavill #cavillry #oh for fic sake fics #viking au #geralt imagine #witcher geralt #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia

[txemrn]

Maybe Someday...

Pairing: Ethan Ramey x f!OC (Tatum Erikson-Ramsey)

Word Count: ~3075

Warning: Mature audiences only; adult themes, angst; TW: heavy discussion of pregnancy, infant loss and depiction of PTSD; a few curse words, verbal fight/tension

AN: Happy Mother's Day to all the brave women out there who are mothers, who have stepped up to be mothers, who want to be mothers, who have lost mothers, and who have children being held for them in heaven. You are amazing, courageous and strong.

A/N 2: Some characters and plot belong to our friends at Pixelberry. This was not beta'd; please excuse my errors. Also, there is a more personal AN after the fic! 🖤

~🖤~

"Alright, Mama," Tatum whispers in a direct, warm tone, "just one last big push, and your sweet baby will be here." 

Feeling the gradual pressure building in her body, the exhausted mother takes a big breath, bearing all of her energy into delivering her first born child.  Suddenly, she gasps for air, both in relief and out of pure joy as her baby enters the world.  She tumbles back into her husband’s lap, his endearing arms embracing her with unbridled admiration. After nine laborious months of hoping, planning and praying, they're officially a mom and dad.

"Hey, there, precious!" Tatum squeals, "happy birthday!" She swiftly dries and stimulates the newborn, suctioning out the tiny gurgles and replacing them with the tiny cry of new life. "Dad, wanna tell everyone if we have a boy or a girl?"

Giving a tender kiss to his wife's forehead, the elated young man dabs tears from his face before looking at the baby in the physician's arms. "It… she's a girl!" Roars of celebration from the delivery nurses fill the room as the new parents sob secretly to one another, embracing their now family of three. 

Not wasting any time, the physician lays the little girl on her mom's chest as she finishes the delivery, ensuring mom and baby remain safe. After cleaning up the patient and the room, Tatum saddles up next to the bed, taking a moment to dote on the new family.

"Thank you so much, Dr. Erikson," the young woman glances up at Tatum, gently stroking her baby's back. "I could not have done this without you."

"Girl, I am so proud of you! Look at what you did." Tatum tenderly caresses the infant's chunky arms before allowing the baby to grip her finger. "What a beautiful way to bring in your first Mother's Day!" 

"Oh my gosh, that's right," the patient giggles, patting her baby on the bottom. "A Mother's Day to remember!"

Tatum smiles brightly as she squeezes the new mom's hand. "Enjoy the rest of your special day! You've earned it!" 

Grabbing her phones and pagers, the blonde obstetrician quickly makes her way to the door.

"Dr. Erikson?" The new father calls out, "would you mind if we got a picture with you and our baby girl?"

"Sweetie," his wife gently scolds, "don't you think she wants to go and enjoy Mother's Day, too?"

"It's fine," Tatum grins, holding out her arms to take the infant. "I can never get enough baby snuggles… as long as you're okay with it." 

Eagerly nodding and powering on the camera, they gently pass over their daughter. 

Cradling the partially-swaddled newborn in her hands, Tatum brings the petite infant closer to her face to coo and singsong about her cuteness. Entranced with the innocent movements, time seems to cautiously slow down, the room becoming a blur. A breath hitches thickly in the OB's throat as she gently traces the dainty features, the familiar gesture causing her mouth to run dry. The chubby fingers. The rosy nose. Long lashes sprawled heavenly across her cherub cheeks. It was like a dream, a beautiful moment in time, flooding memories of hope… and crushed dreams.

"Dr. Erikson?"

Tatum's eyes flutter. "I'm sorry, um what did you–?"

"We want one with your face!" The patient giggles, holding the camera up.

“Oh, of course,” Tatum paints on a smile. 

"Ready? Smile!"

As the flash of the camera begins to fade, Tatum gently boops the infant's button nose. "Well," she hands the baby back to the mother, "I better not take up any more of your family time."

"You probably need to get home to your own kids," the new mom suggests.

"How many kids do you have, Dr. Erikson–?" 

"--I bet you're such a good mom!"

Tatum glances at the hopeful mother's stare, filled with so much love and anticipation for the physician's answer.  "None, um, I mean, no," Tatum clears her throat, a chill almost penetrating her stormy blue gaze. "I'm not a mother."

"Oh," a tinge a sadness hits the new mom's voice. "But, I bet delivering so many babies… and coaching so many women… probably makes you feel like a mother."

"Something like that," Tatum grins, giving the patient a wink. "But what's most important here and now is that you are now a mom." She gives the woman a pat on the hand. "Have the nurses call me if you need anything. Congrats again, you guys." 

Tatum hastily exits the room. Shutting the door behind her, she exhales heavily.  Today is barely halfway done, and it has already proven emotional taxing on the chief of OB, especially after delivering her sixth baby. Which meant her sixth 'Happy Mother's Day!' Which meant her sixth clarification that she doesn't have children.

And no. She doesn't want to talk about it.

Still, Tatum takes joy in the holiday by watching other women become mothers, watching them relish in the precious moment of enduring the miraculous test of the human body and spirit, watching them bond with the actual fruit of their labor. The journey was not created for all, but if she can help it, she wants to help women enjoy the transition who desire motherhood.

Experiencing such a monumental moment is the reason she even got started in this business. Maybe this is her way of coping; maybe this is her way of healing. Maybe this is her way to ensure that every new mother savors that moment they first hold their newborn in their arms.

Maybe this keeps her memory alive, a beautifully tragic memory, full of so much love. And so much unspeakable pain.

Even after all of these years.

"Dr. Erikson! You have a delivery."

Tatum slips off her scrub cap as she moseys towards the cheery voice of the unit secretary; but, even before she reaches the desk, her eyes capture the sight of an elaborate arrangement of white lilies and roses.  She breathes in the subtle floral notes, her fingertips admiring the soft petals of the flowers. A large satin bow, accented with burlap adorns the large vase.

"These came for you, ma'am."

"Me?"  Tatum's eyebrows furrow as she notices the handwriting on the envelope to the card. Her husband. And she's instantly confused. While flowers are lovely, Ethan knows better than to send them to his wife. And surely he knows better than to send them today.

A small crowd of nurses and techs gather around as she opens the card.

"Are you about to tell us we're all about to be aunties?" One of the nurses jokes, the other staffers giggling and gasping with hope.

"Definitely not," Tatum titters, forcing a kind smile. "We just got married, you turkeys." 

"So?" More laughter erupts as the rest of the unit joins. "We're ready!"

Tatum playfully scowls, lifting open the card to read. 

To the strongest mother I've ever known, to the strongest person I've ever met. Today I celebrate you and your courage. Happy Mother's Day. -Rams

A subtle sting pulls at her vision, her heartbeat now thundering in her ears. She feels her cheeks flush with heat; from embarrassment? From love? From anger?

No, he meant well.

But, damnit, he knows better.

Tatum swallows thickly, painting a brave, chipper expression on her face. "He, uh… Dr. Ramsey wanted to brighten up the unit for mother's day.  And–" she thinks off the top of her head, "--to celebrate the day, lunch is on him!"

The labor and delivery team collectively 'aww' and clap in excitement from the generous gesture. "Well, if you aren't going to give us a baby just yet, I guess we'll settle with food," a nurse jokes as the women snicker amongst themselves, heading back to work.

Tatum speedily retreats to the physician's lounge, making phone calls to her favorite deli and putting in an emergency order with a hefty tip of appreciation.

Finally having a moment alone in the locker room, Tatum decides to freshen up from her busy morning. As she empties her pockets, Ethan's card pops out, coasting onto the tiled floor. Slowly retrieving, she anxiously opens it back up.

And she reads it again.

And again. 

Her fingertips drag across the ink, each line and stroke like a sharp blade to her heart.

She closes her eyes, concentrating on her shallow, furious breathing.  It’s fine, Tatum; it’s fine. Breathe, two, three. Exhale, two, three. Breathe, two…

Suddenly a pair of gray eyes appear in the darkness. His gray eyes. Then, his voice. 

“What’s wrong with her? Tate! Tate?!”

A pair of hands appear, gripping tightly to her tender abdomen. Another set join in, rubbing vigorously on her chest, causing Tatum to gasp and wretch on her own air.

“This is too much blood–”

“Call a rapid team–”

“Will someone page trauma–?”

One by one, more hands appear, but what once looked like her saving grace deteriorates into her hell as arms and hands tangle around her, strangling her, choking her.

“Cross and match four units–”

“Grab the methergine and hemabate–”

“We can’t let her die, too!”

“No,” Tatum exhales, her own fingertips tearing at the collar of her shirt, her nails clawing at her neck and chest.  Her tears pour like heated rivers down her flushed cheeks. “Please… stop…” 

“Dr. Erikson?”

Tatum’s eyes snap open, frantically looking around the locker room. Her attention turns towards the petite, concerned voice of the secretary, waiting by the door.

“I--I tried knocking, but--”

Tatum nods, forcing a big smile on her face. “It's fine," she swallows in relief, "that's fine.”

----------

Tatum slinks into the apartment after 9PM, instantly being greeted by the wet nose of Jenner.  

"Hey, buddy," she lovingly croons, taking his face in her hands for sweet scratches and kisses. Giving him one last pat, she quietly kicks off her shoes before heading to her bedroom through the kitchen, hoping to avoid her husband.

As she turns to head straight into the en suite, she crashes into a broad chest, arms open wide to receive her.

"Hey," Ethan hugs her tightly, pressing his lips along her hairline. "How was your day?"

"Fine."

"Yeah?  I… tried texting you–"

"I was busy." Tatum slips out of his arms as she heads to the bathroom. 

"Are you hungry?"

"No." She shuts the door; but the force behind her nudge is stronger than intended, causing it to rattle bitterly against the frame.

Ethan stares at the closed-off entrance to the room, uncertainty flooding his features.  He takes a deep breath, running a hand down his face. Irritation snarls on his mouth as his hands flex.

Then, he barges in.

"Ethan!" Tatum shrieks, quickly grabbing a towel to cover her naked body. She hugs it around her backside as she faces away from him. "Do you mind?" 

He scoffs into a sardonic snicker. He recognizes she's upset, but he's not about to let this spin out of control. "Since when do you hide yourself from me?"

"Since right now," she hisses.

"Then look at me," he growls, "and tell me to leave."

Tatum blows away a frustrated breath.  Adjusting the towel around her torso, she finally turns to face Ethan. She opens her mouth to speak, but her words fail her as her eyes lock with the devastating compassion in his gaze. She fixes a stern lip, but she can feel her own defenses crumble as his expression softens.

Ethan begins to saunter towards her, careful as not to challenge her, but with assurance and protection. Close enough to reach, he grips tenderly around her shoulders before enveloping her wholly into his tight embrace, tucking her trembling body into his own.  

Feeling the swift rush of being swept from her own feet, Tatum finally lowers her facade, melting into sobs. 

Letting her fall apart in his arms, Ethan combs his fingers into her blonde tangles before fisting her waves, drawing her into his neck. His other hand relaxes, allowing his wife to stand on her own again–but he refuses to let go. Absent-mindedly, he traces figure-eights across her back and down the slopes of her sides, feeling her ribs shutter from each cry.

"I knew today would be rough… but I'm guessing that I made things worse," he whispers, a deep gravel in his timbre. "I wasn't trying to make you upset, baby."

"I know," Tatum's words are barely audible as she twists Ethan's T-shirt into her grip. "I… I just don't want to talk about it–"

"Maybe we should talk about it."

"Rams… I…" Tatum lets go, gently shoving herself away to stare at her husband. "No."

He sighs, raising an eyebrow. "Tate, I–" he shrugs his shoulders, "all I did was send you flowers–"

"--on Mother's Day!" She snaps, pounding the side of her hand into her palm. "How could you–? I mean, why–?" she fumbles anxiously with her words before hanging her head into her hands. "It's bad enough I'm cursed with the memories–"

"--then let me be haunted with you, Tate." He gently cups her cheeks, pleading silently for her to look at him. "Facing what you did… you were–you are… so… incredibly brave–"

Tatum shakes her head, breaking out of his hold. "Don't."

She begins to storm towards her closet, but Ethan grabs her elbow, pulling her back. "Do not walk away from me, Tatum Ramsey," he steams through his nose. "I get that I may have fucked up today, but–" he lets out a humorless chuckle, shrugging, "baby, I didn't know, okay? I–I just… I love you so much. I didn't want this for you today. I didn't want you to be sad." He sucks in his bottom lip before exhaling. "It's your first Mother's Day where… you don't have to be alone with this." He tenderly takes her hand, lacing his fingers with hers. "You're not alone. Not anymore."

Tatum stares at their joined hands, her wedding band softly clanging against his. She sucks in her lips before glancing back at her husband. "I'm sorry, Rams," she breathes. 

Within an instant, Tatum is safe and sound where she's supposed to be: in Ethan's arms, his lips lost in her waves as he whispers words of reassurance.

Tatum tips her head up, her husband’s stare greeting hers. "I still don't think I'm ready to talk it… about her. About what happened."

"Okay," Ethan casually concedes, his fingers lost in her tresses. "That's fine."

"I… don't know if I will ever be ready," her voice cracks.

Ethan hooks her chin, lifting Tatum's gaze back to his own. "Maybe. Not today. But… maybe someday."

----------

Four Years Later…

"... if you are just now joining us for today's show, we are discussing maternal mortality rates in relation to postpartum hemorrhage…"

"Are you seriously listening to that?" Tatum hands Ethan his dinner as she crawls onto the couch next to him with her own meal. "You were there for the recording–"

"I know," he dices up his salmon. "But they're interviewing a long-time hero of mine."  Tatum chews quietly, her stormy blue pools locked with admiration on her husband as he nonchalantly winks at her. "Rumor has it… she's got the hots for me."

Tatum snickers, shaking her head as she drapes her ankles across his thighs.

"... I am here with Dr. Tatum Erikson-Ramsey, an OBGYN analyst for the New England Journal of Medicine and a correspondent with the American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists. She is also the head physician and lead research analyst and developer for what is now being hailed by the World Health Organization as the 'gold standard' of defense from PPH. Of course, I'm talking about intravenous tranexamic acid." The cheerful host jokingly takes a big breath before continuing. "Thank you again for being with us, Dr. Erikson."

"Thank you for having me."

"Now, postpartum hemorrhage is clearly something you are passionate about. Pardon my pun, but what birthed this passion? No doubt you see this in the maternity ward a lot, but was there an event? Maybe a person that inspired you to dive into this research?"

"Actually," Tatum endearingly chuckles, "yes. There… is someone. A young women I met after medical school, way before I even considered OB. She found herself pregnant in a loveless, abusive relationship, and to make matters worse–" she falls silent, whispers of heavy breaths being taken. "Her baby was not compatible with life."

"God," the host gasps.

"It was… an awful situation," Tatum licks her lips. "After delivery, she lost over half her body's blood volume, losing consciousness a few times, but… she fought. She fought hard… just so she could hold her daughter before she… while she was still here."

The interviewer takes a moment. "Wow, Dr. Erikson. I… I can see why such a tragedy like that, witnessing something like that influenced your entire career. Are you… still in touch with her?"

"I am," Tatum's voice brightens. "Everyday."

"No doubt she is very proud of you."

"She is. She's… incredibly proud."

Tatum quietly looks back to her husband, a knowing sparkle in his eye with unshed tears. "You know? I'm fairly proud of her, too."

Ethan slowly leans in to kiss his wife when a sudden static from a baby monitor interrupts them, followed by a few muffled mewls until finally pained wails echo throughout their living area.  Ethan puts down his bowl, but Tatum presses her hand to his shoulder.

"I got it." She grins, quickly giving him a kiss–then another–before scurrying up to check on their five-month-old son.

"Cord?" She singsongs, padding into the darkened room. 

As soon as the blond-headed baby sees his mom, he begins to frantically pump his legs in the air. His crystal gaze tracks her movements, sticking his tongue out in joy. "Why are you crying, beansprout?" She chuckles as she brings him protectively into her arms. "I bet… you're hungry, huh? Is my big boy hungry?"

She peppers kisses across his soft head as she prepares to nurse him. Slinking back into her favorite rocking chair, she latches her son to feed as she traces his precious features.

"You have a dimple right here," she coos softly, stroking softly over the mark. And she titters to herself. "Just like your mama." Tatum takes his free hand, curling his fingers around her thumb before kissing his tiny fingertips.  "Your older sister…" her breath hitches, a teardrop sloping down her nose as she begins to chuckle. "She had the same dimple."

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Thank you so much for your support! Every like, comment and reblog means the world to me! 🖤

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AN 3: I hope you don't mind, but I'm going to put a more personal note with this fic. As a lot of you know, I have the absolute honor and privilege of helping women become moms. When I first went back to school, I never thought I would fall in love with women's health. But even more of a surprise to me, I found a deep passion in my heart for bereavement.

I first heard the term "miscarriage" when I was 5 years old, and I remember even back then, it was such a forbidden topic; NO ONE talked about it. So, in silence, I learned that the word equated to shame and embarrassment.

Twenty years later, I took care of my first patient. And she had a miscarriage in her history. My next patient? Same. Third? She had two. I would learn from one of my mentors that ONE IN FOUR women will experience a miscarriage or loss of an infant (and it's estimated that the number is higher!). And I started wonder: if this is happening so frequently, why aren't we talking about it?

I understand this is fanfiction, and this story (along with a lot of my other angsty fics) is written for "entertainment" purposes. And of course, I want you to enjoy them! But I just wanted share with you, my beloved readers, that these subjects I write about are very near and dear to my heart. I hope you can see the underlying message of bringing awareness to motherhood tragedies and trauma in the maternity ward. I hope that the fictional voice of Tatum Erikson gives the real voice of women who continue to grieve silently. And if you are the one in four, please know that you are seen, and I am so, so very sorry for your loss.

#ethan ramsey x tatum erikson #ethan ramsey x f!oc #ethan x tatum #tathan #tw: pregnancy #tw: infant loss #choices oph