#mr. fancy pants himself

[starsomens]

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 3・𝓢𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓫𝓸𝓭𝔂 𝓮𝓵𝓼𝓮

̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿   ‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

Warnings: language, close proximity, nicer Noah ????? Spice????

note: a SUPER big THANK YOU to @darling-millicent-aubrey for the help with this chapter! I had such bad writers block and she was such a huge help thank you so much!!

̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿   ‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

Wake up, have breakfast, explore the mansion, and go to bed. Wake up, have breakfast, explore the mansion, and go to bed. Wake up, have breakfast, explore the mansion, and go to bed. On other days you tried to steer clear of Noah, not knowing why you were avoiding him.

You were already getting into the deep end, the most you could do was just not talk to him. That pattern had gone on for about a month. The only thing keeping you sane was speaking with your family, your books, and Vilma. You had even gone out into the garden and started planting some colorful flowers there.

But this constant loop would drive anyone mad. Yet you hardly had any energy to go out, but it was something you desperately needed. Today, you decide to get yourself dressed, grab your bag and go out. Just as you were reaching for the front door you heard a pair of footsteps. Looking to your left you see Noah walking with someone shorter than he was. He had some tattoos but not as many as the man you were married to. He had you’d call a “cute high school boy” face

“Where are you going?” Noah asked as he came to a stop “Just going out. I’ll go crazy if I’m here any longer.” You knew it short, with your hand still in the Handle

“Wait, we haven’t met yet have we?” The unknown man spoke coming forward “I’m Nick or Folio” he explained stretching his hand out for a handshake . You accept it, and he gives you a strong firm shake

“Folio? Another nickname?” You asked

“Oh you’ve met Jolly huh “ he chuckled “We have a Nicholas too so we just go by my last name:” he shrugged

“Oh I see, well anyway I gotta get going before it gets any later” Trying to escape the situation feeling Noah's strong gaze on you, but never looking in his direction. Nick nudges Noah, by the elbow, as if signaling for him to say, or do something. We hear Noah sigh, and then say.

“Where are you heading? I’ll go with you.” He said “I’m just going shopping. You don’t have to come, besides, you’re busy and probably gonna just waste your time” You brushed off the offer

“Well,” he said, as if he was thinking of an excuse “you need to upgrade your closet, so I’m taking you to the mall and we’re gonna grab some new clothes” stuffing his hands into his pocket as he came up with an idea right on the spot

“ I’ll come along too” Nick offered “You guys need protection and that’s what I’m here for,” he said as he lifted the bottom of his shirt to reveal a pistol snug in the waistband of his pants.

“ well, excuse me!” He sassed “I don’t mean to offend you, but I have questions about your ability to pick out an outfit for me Mr. Sebastian” he said, eyeing him up and down in his usual dark clothes “ you’ll either dress me as if we’re going to funeral or a business meeting. I don’t think I fancy either one”

He nods his head and takes a second to think about his next words. His index and thumb massaging at his chin as he thought “ those shoes you are wearing are not only dirty and beat up, but are completely outdated. It’s been about four years since those had come out. You can use a different pant style to bring out your body shape more since I always see you looking at that the most. And you could use some other tops other than your crop tops and occasional hoodies and all. So let’s go.” He said scanning you from head to toe.

Your dark grey crop top and jeans with some old sneakers were your usual go to. Especially if you aren’t going anywhere special, just some shopping.

You weren’t expecting to be judged detail for detail on what you were wearing. Noah walked past you and opened the door, showing himself out after criticizing your fashion choices.

“ has he always been…..him?” You asked Nick raising a brow. He opens the door for you and lets you past first

“Him? By that do you mean the way he speaks, acts, what he says and all?” He clarified

“Mhm, my exact thought”

“ for as long as I’ve known him, yes. And believe me, we have tried to convince him to possibly change his ways maybe even ease up on the sarcasm, never works.” he chuckles as he opens the back door for you.

“Uh… if you don’t mind, can I sit in the front with you?” You asked taking a step back. no watched you from inside interested as to why you wouldn’t sit in the backseat with him

“Uh…yeah sure I don’t have an issue with it. Noah?” He asked

“Do whatever the fuck you want” he huffed as he pulls out his phone and answers some messages he was meaning to get to. Finally getting into the car Folio drove you both to the shopping area of the city. It was a Thursday afternoon, the streets were busy but not packed.

“Wouldn’t it be kinda…dumb to walk into stores with a gun folio?” You asked him

“Well… the thing is most store owners and people know who Noah is. Plus we’ve been here enough that they know exactly what I’m carting, we should be fine” he clears up. Looking into your side mirror you take notice of how quiet Noah was back there. Usually he says some thing, witty, or sarcastic but him being quiet, was a bit surprising if you were honest.

“I didn’t take Noah for the shopping type,” you comment

“Well it’s more like Noah brought some date out here so they recogn-“

“I’m a frequent shopper. That’s all you have to know on that matter” he cuts off Folio, from explaining further on. Once your in the main area of the shopping center, folio enters a parking lot. After parking the car, you’re ready to go. He opens the door for you and helps you out. Noah opens the door before Nick could get to it. You’re lead out of the parking lot by Noah and Nick and they point you to the direction of the store.

“We’ll go in here first. Change up the outfit and shoes” he nodded for a luxurious looking building , one seemed far out of your range of taste, but hey, if you was buying you weren’t complaining.

As soon as you walk in and attendant, walked towards you and greeted you both

“ Mr. Sebastian welcome back, and this must be your date ?” he shook his hand and knotted towards you with a slight bow

“My wife actually.” He corrects “Henry, we’re going to be doing some extensive shopping today so I need only your best “ he responds

“Congratulations to you both. Please follow me” Noah offers his elbow for you to take, and which you take grasp of, and let him lead you through the store. As you pass aisles, and displays of expensive jewelry, clothes, and shoes you barely paid attention to Noah, and the fact that he was watching you. You weren’t the only one still thinking about what have happened that night.

He knew about the two you had interacted with, and knew that they do nothing but cause trouble. As you were lead to the second floor of the building you were brought into a room with clothes for all kinds of occasions. They had dresses, business wear, casual, and even some lingerie.

“Would the lady like guidance or any suggestions?” Henry asked. Noah looked at you for an answer. Instead You let go of Noah and wander over to one of the dresses and felt the material, taking a glance at the price tag you, you’re eye shoot open.

“Um….maybe I’ll take a look around for a bit and get a feel of the store” you give a tight smile with a small nod

“Please call if you need anything ma’am” Henry states as he walks over to a display to fix up the mannequin. Noah notices how you eye the prices as you go through the rack, he walks up to you, his footsteps muted out by the carpet underneath his feet. He comes in proximity to you, only about a hand worth of space can fit between you both. He bends down enough to reach your left ear and says

“ stop looking at the prices, start looking at things that you like.” Your heart skips a beat, feeling the warmth of his breath against your ear. Only then, were you aware of how close he really was. Your stomach turned as his hand comes to your right one, and remove your hand from the tag and moves your hand onto the hanger instead “Grab them, go try them, come out and show me.” he said as he pointed over in the direction of the very large fitting room area. It had a platform with a spotlight in the middle of the waiting room for people to come and model what they were trying to buy.

“But-“ you try to argue back

“ no arguments. I don’t wanna hear it. Start or I’ll pick for you” he doesn’t say anything as he walks away to look at items himself. You sigh, and start picking items that had caught your eye. Be sure to look at the sizes carefully. You grab a couple of pants and shirts, and some dresses as well. You also grabbed some shoes that could compliment the dresses and outfits.

“That’s all?” Noah asked as you walked up to him with you things in hand

“Well….yeah? This is what I saw and could grab” you said catching one of the dresses as it slips from your grip.

“Henry?” Noah calls, the said man turns in the direction of his name “could you bring us some suggestions if you could. Dresses are a __, shoe size a __, and pants and skirts size ___, thank you.” He turns back to you and walks in your direction. His hands lands on your lower back and leads you to the fitting room.

“Once you’re done, come and show me” he said taking a seat in one of the cushioned chairs.

You the shut the door to the first fitting room available. Even the fitting room was glamorous. It had a tiny chandelier, and a mirror that covered the entire wall, a chair, and carpet with expensive trimming. You really started to feel out of place, of course your father had money, but even this was out of your range.

You put on the first outfit you had put together. It was a nice skirt and top set that had fit as if it were tailored to your exact measurements. You throw on some kitten heels and walk out of the room. You walk down the short hallway and out into the waiting area. Noah looks up from his phone for a second and does a double take. He’s never seen you in an outfit like this one.

“….does it look okay..?” You asked as stepped on the platform and turn in a circle, to give a full view of the outfit.

Noah pov-

“Y-yeah” I cleared my throat and sit up straight “is it a good size?” I asked and she just nods at me “alright good…uh why don’t you try on that black dress you picked? I thought it was….nice”

“You do?” She asked me seeming confused by my comment “I was doubting your fashion sense, but maybe you do have some style.” she chuckled. That had to be the first time I’ve ever seen her smile. At me at least.

“Yes. Now go try it on.” She steps down from the platform, almost unsure of herself. As soon as she shuts the door I watch as her shadow dances on the floor.

“She’s different sir…” I hear Henry walk up to me, offering me a glass of champagne. I take the offering and take a sip “you look at her differently from the other girls you’ve brought here”

“What makes you say that?” My eyes remain focused where Y/N would be coming back from

“ so when she doesn’t seem to be materialistic like the other ones you’ve brought here” he chuckles, recalling memories of past dates he’s had

“ maybe that’s right now. I’m just giving her a taste. She’ll come back for more.” I defend, knowing how those dates went and how she might end up as well.

“ But the reason why she is different is because the look you give her” he answers back, I turn my keys, finally curious as to what he meant

“ I don’t want her in any kind of way what are you talking about?”

“ oh, you’ll know soon enough, now these are the latest sets that we have brought in. Hopefully the Mrs. would like to try them on.” he ends the conversation displaying a few dresses and blouses in front of me to show me the newest arrivals to the store. I point to one and goes to get more like them.

Y/N comes back out from the fitting room, in a short dress that reaches about her mid thigh. I get a feeling in my chest, one that I didn’t really feel before. Or least have not felt in a long time. I have to admit, she really was beautiful, and anyone could see that. I have always been aware of other people’s stares. Staring at her presence in any room. I can see the reactions when I come near her. Men want her and women want to be her. But this feeling was something I never felt with other women I’ve hooked up with, or been in relationships with. Sure I’ve taken other women shopping, but it was just to get them off me for the day.

watching her twirl around a little black dress made me think and a few things I never thought I would. That day, that I shot that asshole, I did it more because of what he did and not my own entertainment.

No matter how hard I try, no matter what I’m doing, and no matter how stressed I am I can’t get the memory of that night out of my head.

“…. Who are you?” I whisper again just like I did that night. Just like she asked me that night.

Third pov

Dress after dress, and set after set. There wasn’t one that no one did not like on you. Each one of them making you look more angelic than the last. Something did catch Noah though. You were eyeing the back wall with all the lingerie was. After you were back in your normal clothes, he takes your hand and leads you to the back wall. At first you thought he was going to show you another set or possibly take you to some hidden register in the back of the store. However, you were proven wrong when you stood in front of an entire wall of sets of lingerie. All of them, Lacey, beautiful, and some with bows, and others covered and glitter.

“Oh no…. It’s nice that you’re taking me out shopping but I really don’t need a side of lingerie okay? I have underwear ready” you can feel your cheeks begin to heat up at the slight embarrassment of standing in front of the wall. Even more so now that Noah was with you. It’s not like you were embarrassed about it with him but it’s not like he would see you in it or want to see you in it….. you weren’t even sure if you wanted to see yourself in it.

“ I already caught you looking over here a couple of times. How about this you pick one and I pick one . If you don’t like it, we just leave it” he offered to you as he quickly picked one. It was red with some black lace. The one he picked that he even picked your size.

Looking at the tag, you clench your jaw “…you’re lucky it’s my size….luck bastard.” You mumble the last part. Take a good look and grab a pink set with delicate lace designs. Noah was going to walk back with you but instead you dashed off before he could say or do anything. Noah bites the inside of his cheek, feeling a heat inside his chest and back of his throat.

He felt bothered? Pissed? But he felt an urge and he didn’t know what to label it.

“Fuck.” He cursed to himself. He makes his waist swiftly over into the fitting room and knocks on the door

“Are you changed?” he asked, leaning towards the door, as if needing to be able to hear you better.

“Uh…y-yes. But I’m not ready yet!” You answer sounding unsure.

“Well hurry up…I need to speak with you” he leans on the wall next to the door as he fingers massaged his temple.

“I mean…it’s nice but I’m in…..lingerie!” You defend

“…look you don’t have to come out but at least let me see which one fit better.”

What am I saying??? He thought to himself

“Noah….i….i don’t know if I can.” You said

“Why not?”

“Because it’s….im just. It’s a beautiful piece I just…don’t know if it suits me okay?” You admit trying to get rid of him

“Y/N,” he calls you “whatever I pick is always the best fit of not perfect…..:that includes you as well. That piece counts as one of those things as well… I’m paying for it so let me it see. Now” he demanded. You hesitate to open the door, but knowing he would keep at it, you open it and slowly reveal yourself. First your head popped from the edge of the door, then your shoulder and then the rest of you. You stood under his gaze as still as you can, not daring to make eye contact with him. You could feel your palms sweating, and your heart pounding.

"look at me...." he said in a hushed tone

"..no..." you whispered

"Y/N, look at me-"

"No!" you cut him off "Ugh what the fuck is your problem Noah?!" you snap at him. His eye brows raise at your sudden outburst

"My problem? The fuck is your problem? I'm out here treating you to some shopping and now I'M the problem" he answered back as his hands land on his hips

"That's exactly the issue! Last month you were just another asshat! I meet you stupid ex who insults me for something I didn't even agree to! Then some asshole comes and harasses me, talking about you and how I didn't know who I was with...." you rant "...and they were right I have no fucking clue, who the fuck you are...and now here I am standing in some stupid lingerie with you of all people-"

Stopped in your tracks by Noah pushing you into the fitting room. He backs you into the corner, trapping you between his arms.

"Listen to me you fucking brat." he scolds you quietly "I took you because you've been avoiding me like I'm the plague. Yeah...you don't me, and yet I don't know you either, even if you're so fucking easy to read"

You both stand there in silence, your breathing.

"So why..." you asked "...why all of this? It's not like I'm someone you'd want...." you lower your graze back to the floor "...maybe it was supposed to be Denise and not me..." what were you even saying??

"And why not?" he asked as he brings your gaze back up to him. His hand grabs your jaw like he always did, but this time he was...gentle and soft...His face coming closer to yours, holding eye contact with you. This was the closest you both had been, the longest you had looked into his eyes. You notice the small freckles that littered his face. the long lashes that shielded his eyes. Those dark and mysterious orbs, seemed to be softer, more relaxed...like you were looking at somebody else.

"Because....because...." he inches closer and closer to you. His breath fanning over your lips and chin

"use your words flower," he calls you out on your stuttering, but never let's you finish as he captures your lips in a heated, and fiery kiss. His hands hold the back your head as he drags you further into his kiss. The kiss was passionate, messy and full of lust. You kiss him back with as much lust and want as him. feeling a magnetic pull towards him His lips trail from your lips to your cheek, continuing to your jaw and leading to your neck

"no...wait....stop-" he gasp trying to push him away

"Y/N...just let me-"

"Noah. Stop please...." after the second plea he stops and looks up at you "....I want to go....home. Please"

"...a-alright, I'll have Henry send this home...I" he stands up and steps back from you "I...I apologize." he clears his throat and leaves the room for you

You begin to dress yourself, your hands shaking with each article you pick up. You felt your chest squeeze and ache. Something wet drops on to your hand. Looking up to the mirror, you see your eyes water. Tears? Crying? You weren’t hurt, or scared or anything…..so why? Why?

…………

The ride home was quiet. You sat in the front seat with Nick once again, watching as the rain slammed against the windshield. The tension in the car was as thick as a concrete. Nick hadn’t stepped in knowing it may have been something serious. Your clothes would be delivered to your home sometime in the week, since you left in a hurry.

Coming up the familiar path and round the driveway. Noah gave Nick instructions as he gets out of the car with an umbrella. You see him rounding the car to come and get you, but you didn’t wait. You got out of the car in the pouring rain and walked to the door.

“Hey!” Noah calls for you “would you stop being so fucking stubborn already?”

You just ignore him and keep walking, wrapping your arms around your self as you inch towards the door.

“Y/N Sebastian!” When had he ever call you that? You finally stop and whip around. Your drenched hair sticking to your face as you stare him down. He drops the umbrella and marches to you

“Listen to me.” He stops in front of you, just as close as the last time, if not closer. “You’ve said your piece and now you hear mine.”

“Well fucking say it already! It’s not like you’re gonna make it any better” your eyebrows knit together, as that same fire from that night lit in your eyes

“You aren’t scared of me. That much is clear,” his clenched and unclenches “so what the fuck are you so afraid of? Huh?”

You take a moment as your chest heaves

“….what I’m becoming….” You answer never breaking your eyes from his

“You’ve become my wife already, get it over it” he answers you. His head lowering closer to yours once again

“Legally….im not your wife.” You sneer at him. The rain drenching you both as you stood there in a face off.

“Oh but you are..” he said in hushed but husky voice “you already answered to my name, that makes you mine.”

Your waist is pulled into his body as your lips crash once again. However, you don’t fight it this time. Your nails claw and grab at his wet clothes, as his large hands hold you as close to him as humanly possible. His arms pick you up off the group and wraps your legs around his waist. He carries you towards the mansion doors, slipping inside and closing it shut. The heavy oak doors slamming shut, sewing you both away from the storm.

̩͙‿‿༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿   ‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ̩͙‿

To be continued….

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#noah sebastian x reader #bad omens #noah sebastian #the contract by star✨ #bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian x reader mafia au #mafia au #bad omens cult #noahsebastian #badomens #bad omens band #nick folio #noah sebastian smut #badomenscult

[george-weasleys-girl]

HI. You can choose whichever of the two (Fred or George, George or Fred, Gred and Forge) or you can do for both of them. I read your prompt list and two of them caught my eye. “First one who makes a noise loses” and “Let’s make a baby.” I anticipate as what you have in mind, you can choose one or both if needed..!

Thank you for your request, lovely! This is my first smut fic.😬I hope you enjoy it!

Oh, So Quiet

18+ only

George Weasley x fem!reader

Warnings: smut, George tries to be a teasing jerk, fails miserably.

~•~

Y/N grinned. She knew that look, and the fact that, seconds later, George grabbed her hand and pulled her upstairs and into the back of the warehouse proved it.

"You know exactly what you're doing, don't you?" He growled, pressing her against the little corner table.

"Whatever do you mean?" She titled her head, eyes widened.

"You know I can't resist you in that skirt," he moved his hands down her hips and began pushing it up.

Y/N licked her lips, admiring the growing bulge inside his pants. "Oh my, is this that skirt?"

George cocked an eyebrow as he slid his hand between her legs and damn near came then and there when he realized she had a little surprise waiting for him. "No panties?"

"Dear me," she gasped in mock surprise. "I knew there was something I was forgetting this morning."

He pressed her tightly to him grinding his still clothed erection against her exposed pussy. A soft moan fell from her lips, and she reached down to unbutton his pants. But he stopped her mid-movement, trapping both of her hands in one of his. Two can play at this game.

"First one who makes a noise, loses," he mummered in her ear, grinning and absolutely confident that he'd win this little wager.

Y/N smiled and hopped onto the table, spreading herself wide. "You're on."

~•~

It took every ounce of willpower George had to keep himself quiet. He'd never realized how much noise he actually made during sex until he could no longer make a sound. And yet, even as he angled himself to hit the spot that turned his wife into a quivering, moaning mess, he couldn't pull even the tiniest whimper from her open mouth.

George bit down hard on his lip, watching as his cock disappeared over and over inside Y/N's pulsing heat. He sped up his pace, knowing they only had a few minutes before Verity or one of the other employees came looking for them. He instinctively turned to look behind them, just as Y/N clenched around him, snapping his attention back to her.

Her head was thrown back, eyes squeezed shut and lips drawn tightly together as her orgasm crashed over her. It was more than he could take, and he exploded inside her, unable to stop the guttural moan that escaped his lips.

"Fuck," he chuckled, letting his head fall forward to rest on her shoulder, his hips pumping lazily, riding out the last of their highs.

"I win," she panted, her cheekiness evident even through her breathlessness.

"Indeed you did," he grinned, shifting a little so he could look at her. But much to their disappointment, they didn't have time to bask in the afterglow.

"Mr. Weasley? Mrs. Weasley?" Simon's squeeky voice drifted through the warehouse.

George sighed and pulled out with a soft groan, then quickly got himself in order. "I'll take care of this while you get presentable again," he said, giving her a quick kiss before sprinting around the corner.

~•~

*if you don't want to be tagged in future smut, please let me know!

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#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x fem!reader #george weasley x you #george weasley smut

[mrghostrat]

dude. that reverse bnf fic sounds SO fucking good… the ideas u have cooking up in there… i’m excited just thinking abt it ASKFNKF

YAAAS THANK YOU

i had more thoughts today... thinkin of the ask i got about the "i'll always know the stain was there" scene and how i've never written that before. which. ofc. turned into more ace porn.

Aziraphale spills wine on himself at Crowley’s place. He’s resigned to throw the shirt away. Crowley, Mr minimalist clean freak, rolls his eyes and takes charge of cleaning it off. Aziraphale hesitates then takes his undershirt off too, and Crowley bluescreens. Aziraphale half-asks him, “I’d hate for it to be stained too. It might be an undershirt, but I’d always know the stain was there.” Crowley takes it as well, leaving Aziraphale shirtless in his house.

While they sit around and he scrubs on his homemade stain remover, Aziraphale sits a little shyly, clearly affected. His nipples are hard. Crowley gathers the courage to ask him if it turns him on. “What, you cleaning??” “No. Being exposed like that. The air on your skin.” Aziraphale hesitates because he thinks Crowley is calling him out on some kind of abnormal kink or fetish, so he deflects, “Is that some ace thing as well?” not expecting Crowley to say yes. Crowley sits next to him.

“For me anyway. It’s not the person who turns me on, it’s the touch. So, sometimes, that touch comes from unexpected places. Cold tile on my skin after a shower. Satin sheets.” Aziraphale noticeably shivers.

“S’why I like, personally… Being teased. Light touches; Chasing after it. That anticipation adds to the sensation.” He grazes a hand over Aziraphale’s bare arm and Aziraphale gasps. Crowley laughs at him.

“Ffs. No wonder you struggle getting off if you’re watching the same porn everyone else does. Probably Google Imaging boring old pin ups of girls in fancy bras—“ Aziraphale gives him a LOOK, so Crowley adjusts, “—Or, Boys in skimpy briefs. What good’s that going to do if you can’t imagine how they’d touch you?”

Aziraphale is momentarily perplexed. “You know, I can’t think the last time anyone assumed me anything other than flamingly gay,” but it somehow doesn’t feel avoidant of the topic, he’s just so caught off guard by it.

Crowley’s suddenly a little annoyed, mostly at The World, but a little bit creeps in towards Aziraphale. “Assuming doesn’t help anyone. It only gets people confused about the boxes they’re meant to fit into. Bloody useless things, boxers. Er, boxes.”

His fingers have been dragging idly up and down Aziraphale’s thigh the whole conversation.

He stops when he realises Aziraphale’s hands are strategically placed in his lap. Crowley stops. Apologises, didn’t realise what an effect he was having, he just wanted to make a point—

But Aziraphale hasn’t felt like this in such a long time. He’s worked himself off, but nothing’s compared to this feeling of anticipation and bone deep arousal. He somehow finds the words to ask if Crowley would keep going. Show him what kind of touches he likes, maybe it would be informative. Crowley gets him off on the sofa, teasing and working him to a climax that has him death gripping Crowley’s arm and whimpering into his neck.

-------

Later, hours or days later, Aziraphale is watching Crowley move around the house, maybe in his pants or a towel or something, but being totally innocuous. As innocuous as Aziraphale’s voice when he pipes up, completely unprompted, “I don’t think I’m asexual, Crowley.”

“This again?” Crowley’s exasperation is fond.

“No. Sometimes the sight of you makes me want to… Pin you against a wall or something.”

Crowley freezes, a mental ngk that takes a few minutes to reboot him. He tries and fails to sound casual and unaffected when he says “Maybe you’re demi,” and keeps folding his laundry like Aziraphale hasn’t just shoved a hot poker into his brain.

“Mmm,” Aziraphale agrees, even though Crowley knows he doesn’t know what that means, but he’s too busy leching to follow up and ask.

#ask a rat #reverse bnf #bnf au #ratwips

[x-bluefire-heart-x]

Mr Fancy Pants

Alright, so here is another Rafael Barba/Gender Neutral story. The reader is undercover, they don't work for SVU but Finn and Liv know them. Amanda arrests them, and Rafael sits in on the interview, where the reader flirts with him.

Feel free to make requests :)

Warnings: Sexual under tones, discussion of violence, but not overly detailed. And I think that is it.

Masterlist

Prompt List

Your hands were finally free of the hand cuffs as a detective lead you into an interrogation room. You rubbed at your wrists, pretending that they were chaffed a little, pouting at the blonde detective when she pushed at your shoulder to force you into a chair across from where a man in a suit was standing behind another chair.

“No need for the rough treatment detective,” you whined, slumping a little into the back of the incredibly uncomfortable chair. “I didn’t consent to that. And aren’t you sex crime cops meant to be all about that?”

“That wasn’t rough, Sunshine,” Amanda said stopping herself from rolling her eyes. The man however, did not contain himself.

“Sunshine?” he looked at Amanda with an eyebrow raised. You studied his profile allowing a sly, flirty grin to pull at your lips.

“Yeah, Sunshine,” you answered drawing his eyes to you. “Cause I’m just all smiles and happiness. And anyone who leaves my bed is smiling like sunshine.” You winked at him, eyes slowly moving up and down his body. “Could give you that experience, cutie.”

“You’ve been brought in on charges of solicitation and you’re soliciting an ADA?” he’s voice was full of disbelief at your actions.

“No, I’m offering you the chance to experience my full attention on you and only you, a fun time between two adults, a hook up if you will, people have them all the time,” you said narrowing your brows, grin changing to a pout again as you puffed out your cheeks a little. “I have no idea why little miss south here arrested me. I didn’t do a thing. Won’t be asking her if she wants to come to bed with me that’s for sure. Not asking before handcuffing me and being all rough.”

“I’m a cop arresting a suspect in relation to a crime, I don’t need to ask your permission,” Amanda stated. “Now, you can pretend all you like, but we know you were seen around other workers. We want to know if you’ve ever seen this girl before.”

Amanda opened the folder that was on the desk as she took a seat. The ADA still standing. Amanda put a photo in-front of you of a girl who looked barely in her twenties, with long red hair and freckles spattered across her cheeks. You looked down at it before looking back at the ADA.

“Don’t I at least get to know your name?” you asked, looking at him from under your lashes biting your lip. “I mean I don’t mind calling you sexy or handsome or stunningly gorgeous man but I also wanna know your name.”

“I’m Assistant District Attorney Rafael Barba,” he ground out, ignoring your weird flirting. “And enough games, Sunshine.”  

“Games? You think I’m playing games?” you asked innocently, blinking at him. “I could show you some games. With consent of course, might not mind getting cuffed if it’s by you.”

“Sunshine! This girl have you seen her?” Amanda interrupted her voice sharp, the anger bubbling underneath. “We have enough to charge you.”

“With what?” you asked, finally turning your gaze to Amanda’s the teasing glint in them gone, replaced by a sharpness she did not expect. “Just cause I was seen around other workers you just assume I’m also a worker? Have you seen me approach a John? Seen me exchange money for sex? Do I have a record? And last I checked you lot weren’t ones to arrest sex workers.”

“This girl was brutally attacked and murdered, don’t you care?” Amanda asked pulling out more photos, this time crime scene photos, slamming them down on the table in-front of you.

“Rollins, enough,” Finn’s voice cut through the silence that had followed. You turned in your seat to look at the new arrival who was already looking at you. “You gonna help or you just wasting our time, Sunshine? Cause we can put you in lock up for 24hrs. Capice?”

You worried your bottom lip as you looked at Finn, glancing back over your shoulder to Amanda and Rafael. Your eyes eventually were drawn to the crime scene photos of the girl, you sighed rolling your neck before looking back at Finn. You raised an eyebrow, nodding towards the other two. He inclined his head.

“Wanderlust,” you muttered standing up, posture changing as you did. The set of your shoulders pulling back and your face losing any trace of teasing as you indicated the door Finn was standing in. “Her office?”

“Yeah, come on you two,” Finn went back through the door with you close behind. Amanda and Rafael shared a look of confusion before storming after you two.

“What is going on?” Rafael demanded looking at Liv only to see her in the middle of a hug with you smiling widely as you greeted her like old friends.

“You two know each other?” Amanda asked.

“All three of us do,” you answered turning around and crossing your arms across your chest. “Met on another undercover job of mine, where our two cases intersected. Ended up helping each. After it happened for the third time we decided to work out a way to let each player know if we could discuss our cases and provide assistance.”

“You’re a cop?” Amanda asked.

“FBI,” you nodded. “Good tactics by the way but you might want to be careful who you bluff with, you had nothing to charge me with, though I am curious as to what made you decide to arrest me.”

“You matched the description we had of someone who was seen in the same area the girl was attacked,” Amanda answered. “And we had quite a few people mention this new worker who had shown up called, Sunshine.”

“Ah, well, fair enough,” you nodded winking at her a little. “Still not enough to actually arrest me. Could get it thrown out myself.”

Your gaze drifted to Rafael who was leaning against the observation window, arms crossed and his face pulled into a frown as he studied you. His eyes seeming to run up the length of your body before he caught your gaze, he quickly looked away turning his attention to Finn his cheeks turning the smallest bit red.

“Hey, Rafael,” you wanted his attention back on you. “Sorry if I made you uncomfortable. Sunshine’s personality is a little…frisky.”

“It’s fine, Agent,” Rafael muttered. “So, do you have anything that can help our case?”

“Maybe,” you nodded. “I haven’t actually seen that girl but I know a few other workers who have mentioned a particularly nasty John lately. It doesn’t seem like our two cases are directly intersecting beyond me being here but I’ll help in anyway I can, so long as it doesn’t jeopardise my case.”

“Can we expect a lawyer showing up for you?” Liv asked.

“Potentially, Sunshine isn’t working for anyone at the moment, my goal is to try and get the attention of a pimp who has ties to an international trafficking ring, so if I have got their attention they could use this to try and get me to feel indebted to them,” you explained. “Last our contacts said they were here, my job is to get close and get picked to tag along to where the head creeps hang out.”

Rafael’s eyes had turned back to you, without his conscious thought prompting them. Your job sounded dangerous, with quite a few unknown variables. And it didn’t look like you had any gear on you that allowed your handlers to track your movements.  

“We’ll keep our ears open for anything that sounds like it could be your guy,” Finn promised. “What can you tell us about this John?”

“From what I’ve been told, he drives a four door Sudan, it’s a blue/grey colour one of those ones that seems to shift a little in the light, no-one’s been able to give a full number plate but one of the girls I talked to said it ended in 4KY,” you said. “The guy apparently gets them into the back, the with seats laid down and it starts off normal but he starts to get rough, holding them down hard enough to leave bruises, slapping them. One of them said he even pulled out a knife on her, which would match the marks left on your victim.”

“He’s let some of them go?” Rafael asked, a little surprised considering the extremely violent nature of the attack on their victim.

“He might not be looking to actually kill people,” you explained. “The girls I talked to said they didn’t struggle, they kept up the act. One of them started to struggle and fight him and apparently that set him off but once she stopped and even said sorry he calmed down. He sounds like a sadist who gets off on other people’s pain and fear but he doesn’t want them to struggle for real, to fight him. Most likely he wants the fantasy of them fighting but for the most part wants them to appear as if they are enjoying what he is doing, playing a part to whatever desire he has.”

“You get a description?” Amanda asked.

“Yeah, guy was tall and bulky, he had brown hair that was wavy apparently, he was a smoker, and one girl said he had little scars all over his arm,” you listed. “I can point you in the direction of some of the girls, but I can’t talk to them about helping you guys and you can’t mention that I told you where to go.”

“Don’t worry we will be discreet, you can trust us,” Liv squeezed your shoulder. “Thank you.”

“Course, now, as much as I would love to catch up with you two and get to know the rest of the squad we need to get the show on the road,” you grinned. “And by that I mean letting Sunshine go, you have nothing to hold me on.” You cheekily tsked at Amanda, throwing her a wink making her giggle a little.

“Alright you, back in that room,” Liv smiled pulling you into a hug, before moving out of the way for Finn to squeeze you.

“Next time we see you, it better be as you so we can chat,” Finn demanded.

“Alright big guy,” you laughed. You walked to Amanda and held out a hand. “Nice to have met you Amanda, hopefully next time it will be when I don’t have to be undercover, Finn and Liv have a way to contact me, they can pass it on.”

“You too,” Amanda smiled taking your hand. “Be careful, sounds like a tricky undercover op.”

“That just makes it fun,” you winked at her again. “But thank you, I promise I’ll be careful little miss south.”

“Agent,” when you turned back to the door Rafael was already standing there with a hand out.

“Counsellor,” you gripped his hand. “Shall we continue?” he stood to the side to you allow you go through, following in after you with Amanda on his heels.

The two of them watched in interest as you easily slide back in the persona of Sunshine, you slumped back in the chair as they took the seats across from you. You passed your eyes over Amanda to settle on Rafael, your teasing flirty smile appearing again.

“Well, cutie, you gonna cuff me or let me go?” you asked, putting in a purr to your tone.

“You’re free to go Sunshine,” Amanda sighed collecting the photos. “I suggest you find other places to hang out.”

“Aw, you worried about me blondie?” you cooed. Amanda ignored you as she stood up and opened the door to the corridor. You stood up, strolling around the door passing by Rafael who had stood up. You paused for a split second, making sure to lock eyes with him. “Well, Mr Fancy Pants, be sure to give me a call. I promise it’ll be worth it, sexy.”

You winked at him as you passed, subtly slipping a piece of paper into the pocket of his pants as you trailed your fingers over his hand. You pouted as you passed Amanda wiggling your fingers at her as you left but before you left her eye sight you blew her a kiss. Rafael slipped his hand into his pocket to pull out the piece of paper. It was a name and a number, with a question. ‘My flirting was over the top but doesn’t mean it wasn’t true. Call me?’.

“You know, it took them a while before giving me or Finn their personal number,” Liv’s voice said from behind him.

“Hmm,” was all Rafael said, pocketing the piece of paper. He had to forcibly prevent himself from smiling as he joined the squad to discuss their next move, his fingers every now and then touching the piece of paper.

#writing #imagine #law and order svu #imagines #gender neutral reader #rafael barba #rafael barba x you #gender neutral y/n #law and order svu imagines #rafael barba x reader #Rafael Barba is a little confused #Reader Undercover #Reader is a tease #Reader loves to flirt #Especially with Rafael #Don't we all

[spirk-trek]

Would love to see a little something about TOS spirk and dress uniforms, whatever speaks to you!! I love the intimacy of getting ready together and dressing up fancy with your partner :)

inspired in part by this post by @flippyspoon, this fan art [deactivated], and also this fan art by @lesbospirk!

i initially wanted to do something with spock's eyeshadow (still might??) but then the idea of him cutting jim's hair broke into my mind and wouldn't leave... and i never stop thinking about mind melds, so.

lastly: fuck hypersonic showers, ok? spock takes baths and jim loves sitting under steaming water for the drama. that is all. hope you enjoy, anon!

~*~*~*~

Jim was toweling his hair dry when he re-entered his quarters, screwing his face up as he scrubbed at any residual dampness. He let the towel fall in an open loop around his neck, cotton sleep pants slipping down his waist as he leaned against the partition. Spock was there, of course. Jim watched as he diligently smoothed the sleeves of a green dress tunic laid out over his mattress.

And my, was Spock a sight for sore eyes. The more reflective shade of blue complimented him, each fold capturing light like shards of zircon, lattice trim evoking something almost… royal, in the way it climbed the high collar. Jim’s eyes traced a line of golden embroidery down Spock’s chest as soon as the man turned to find him there, promptly raising a brow.

“Dressings suit you,” he murmured by means of explanation, pushing off the wall and taking a few slow steps to close the space between them. He propped both arms against Spock’s shoulders, extending them into the room behind with loose, lazy wrists.

For so long he had savored these moments of up-close observation, even going so far as to fabricate close quarters on multiple occasions just so he could drink Spock in. The range of barely-there shades of green surrounding his lips, touching the hollows of his cheeks, arching over where his nostrils met the bridge of his nose. Short, dark lashes lining irises the color of a mud-settled pond. Of tadpoles. Of space between stars. 

Spock’s response pulled Jim from his reverence. 

“You have a significant bias."

“Do I?” His gaze dropped to Spock’s lower lip. “Based on the evidence,” he dragged his finger down that seam of gold, “I’d say we’re dealing in… objective fact, Mr. Spock.”

After a moment, Spock finally angled his face lower so their lips were mere centimeters apart. 

“Aesthetic preferences cannot be objective, Captain.”

Jim’s smirk only grew before he finally captured Spock’s mouth, letting a satisfied breath out through his nose. Spock met him, hands bracketing his waist before sliding upward over skin, eventually finding the nape of his neck where fingers curled into damp hair…

Spock broke the kiss and Jim hummed in protest, blinking his eyes open.

“I’ve noticed an increase in the length of your hair,” he observed, as if commenting on the weather. Spock's eyes rose to watch his fingers card through the wave of Jim’s bangs. Jim leaned up into the touch. 

“Mm, you think so?” 

“Indeed. I estimate it has exceeded typical length by 2.51 centimeters.”

“Hm. I suppose it has been a while since I had a trim. Remind me after the delegation-”

“We have time presently, if you are amenable.”

Jim drew back, giving Spock an amused look. “I doubt the salon will be accepting appointments at this hour, Spock. Even for the Captain.”

He curled his fingers over the nape of Jim’s neck again.

“I perform my own haircuts.”

Jim’s brows shot up even further in surprise, still sporting an open mouthed grin which he laughed brightly through. “You want to cut my hair?” He withdrew his arms so he could place one hand on either side of Spock’s neck, thumbs just reaching each corner of his jaw. “I’m not sure I could pull off your cut, sweetheart,” he joked.

Spock didn’t answer aside from a quirk of his lips, accepting the implied agreement before extracting himself and moving past Jim to the door of their adjoined bathroom. Jim watched him go, once more thanking Starfleet for their choice of dress uniforms, and still hadn't looked elsewhere by the time he returned holding a basin and several utensils. Jim knew that Spock preferred his own grooming routines (right down to the fingernails), but he wasn’t expecting the fine golden scissors. Nor did he expect the straight razor which resembled antiques from Earth, yet was still different somehow. He reached for the handle, turning it over in his hands, appreciating the way it gleamed.

“You’ve never shown me these.”

“It has not been pertinent until now.”

Jim placed the razor back into the basin, supposing that was true. 

“Come,” Spock requested, and Jim did, allowing himself to be turned so Spock stood at his back. Gentle fingers slid the towel from his neck and draped it over his shoulders. 

“Sit.”

And Jim did again, lowering himself into the desk chair Spock had wheeled around. Spock began pulling strands of hair upward and letting them fall free, so Jim shut his eyes, almost losing himself to the sensation until he heard a snip. The very end of a curl tumbled down the length of his arm and fell to the floor. He peered down at it, prompting Spock’s hands to curl around his head and face it forward once more.

“Remain still, k’diwa.”

Jim smiled, a warmth blooming throughout him. He loved when Spock called him that.

He continued to snip here and there, a halo of trimmed hair quickly forming around them. Jim relaxed into the contact until once again a sound roused him. Water. He cracked one eye open to see Spock running his fingers over the surface of a clear pool now filling the basin, flicking droplets back inside and combing the moisture through his hair. 

“Could get used to this,” Jim murmured. Snip.

“I have no objection to making it a regular practice.”

He grinned, a shiver running through him as Spock dipped his hands into the water again, cold droplets rolling down his neck to be absorbed into the towel. 

“Apologies, k’diwa.”

“No, no. Feels nice.” 

Snip. Snip. Then, Jim saw in his peripheral as Spock set the scissors down on his desk. Gentle pressure on the back of his head tilted it downward, chin to chest. More swishing in the water.

“Do not move,” Spock directed more seriously, and a moment later Jim felt the press of sharp metal scraping down the lines of his neck. He swallowed, hairs on his arms raising as Spock diligently shaped the bottom of his hairline. Slow. Careful. He felt a hot flash of trust, of comfort and care skittering over him until the pressure from Spock’s hand released. Jim didn’t immediately raise his head allowing Spock to trace his fingers over the line, inspecting it by touch. 

The same hand soon reached around to tip Jim’s chin back up. He continued the movement until he was craned back as far as he could go, sure he looked ridiculous as he peered up at Spock, batting his eyelashes. 

“You know, the barber usually kisses me once he’s finished.”

Spock’s second brow rose to meet the first before he bent at the middle, pressing a chaste kiss to Jim’s lips upside down. 

“I do not find that amusing,” he murmured. Jim brought his hand up to the back of Spock’s neck to pull him back down for second kiss before he could pull away, lingering this time, smiling into it before releasing his hold. He could hear Spock smooth the lines of his uniform and draw a short breath through his nose.

“Regardless, I am not yet finished.”

When Jim tried to twist in his chair, he found Spock already circling around to his front. 

“You aren’t?”

“You have not shaved.”

Jim blinked. He usually just used a photon shaver on his way out the door, which could be done in an instant, but when hazel eyes fell to see the razor still held in Spock’s hand his lips curled. He flashed his eyes back up.

“Okay,” he said with a slow nod. He settled back in the chair, gaze steady as Spock moved to stand closer, eclipsing the ceiling light. Jim leaned his face into Spock’s hand as a thumb briefly swiped over the rough stubble covering his chin.  

After smoothing a layer of lotion that smelled like desert spices over the bottom half of Jim's face, Spock began his ministrations high on each cheek, making smooth swipes downward and carefully steering the blade around the corners of Jim's mouth. He relaxed his jaw, lips parting, eyes falling shut of their own accord. Spock eventually brought his hand to one side, propping Jim's face against his palm as he shaved along the opposite edge.

By the time he recognized the warm feeling wrapping itself around him, the tightening thread pulling through his mind and lifting him from the world, Jim was already plummeting through space. He was vaguely aware, somewhere, of his physical body falling into Spock, a cold hand meeting the drop of his head with gentle steadiness. 

K'diwa.

Spock!

Delight spun through him in tendrils. He rushed forward, coiled around Spock’s presence, reached inside and felt the beating of his heart like it was his own. 

Jim. His full name was feather light, yet somehow more insistent. Echoes bounced around them before Spock brought him back to center. My intention was not to meld with you.

Then I must be dreaming, he thought warmly, and suddenly Spock was there before him in swirls of shimmering twilight, pulling him by the hand, by his chin. He felt his warmth from the inside out. Like he had swallowed a sun. Like he could never be cold again. 

Return to me, k'diwa. I must finish.

“I love when you call me that.”

The words, his own voice, were what pulled him back to reality. Their faces were mere inches apart. His cheek was wet. He smelled spices around him, felt humidity in the room. Suddenly, Jim remembered the task at hand and blood rushed to color his face, but the expression he found on Spock’s was fond. Soft. His fingers followed Jim’s chin as it drew back before letting the contact cease altogether.

“Did I…?”

Spock nodded once. Jim swallowed and bit his lip sheepishly. 

“Sorry.”

Spock shook his head, denying the apology. “My hand placement was unwise. I admit, I was distracted.”

Jim’s embarrassed grimace began to lift into a self-satisfied smile.

“You, distracted? I'd be curious to know what could've managed such a thing.”

Spock said nothing at first. He placed a considerably more careful hand on top of Jim’s head to steady it.

“Aesthetics.”

And Jim let Spock tilt his head once more before feeling the cool metal touch back down on his skin. This time the path began just below the line of his jaw, trailing down and catching fine hairs along the column of his throat. When he could, he tried to catch a glimpse of the unwavering concentration on Spock’s face as he worked his way across. 

“You do this every morning?” Jim all but whispered as his head was allowed to level. He instinctively brought a hand up to feel the smooth skin, running his fingers over it in appraisal.

“My metabolism has adjusted to living aboard the Enterprise. I only require this level of grooming approximately once every twenty one standard days.”

Jim blinked. How was he still learning new things about Spock, even after all this time? He supposed that explained why he never had a hair out of place- that is, unless Jim had something to say about it behind closed doors.

Spock was inspecting him now, dark eyes roaming his face, searching for any neglected spots over it's surface. Jim sat still, defiantly keeping his gaze steady until those eyes met his again. They both held it for a prolonged moment until Spock reached out touching his thumb to what must be a single hair left behind. His fingers climbed…

Jim couldn’t have stopped it if he’d wanted to. He surged forward again, their minds coming together like a flood as if protesting the premature ending from before. As always, Spock was there to catch him. Arms twined around, undefined and abstract, embracing him from all directions. He was steady, as if he himself were the solid ground on which they stood, as if Jim would float away and cease to be without him there. His tether. His anchor. His north star.

Hello, ashayam.

Spock, Jim practically sang. Not for the first time, he felt a certain sort of music shivering free in a distant part of his mind. A single note hanging suspended in the fog. He wanted to hum along, to stretch it into a tune that could be carried by birds, a song composed for a symphony, but instead he simply reached for Spock and thought you’re here, you’re here, you’re here as they twisted together.

Always. 

He felt love float up between them, lifting like bubbles from vents below the sea and racing for the surface. Oranges and pinks brightened in the periphery, dropping off into blue below. He marveled inwardly, distracted by the space that was all their own before his attention was drawn to a thought passing over him. Uncertainty. Spock was the one who put words to it.

You are nervous.

It was as if Jim hadn’t recognized the ache in his stomach until then.

That is why you are seeking me. K’diwa. Come.

Clarity. Sense. Logic. Jim followed him into an embrace of sensation- lying against Spock’s chest in the morning, finding his hand below the table without having to look, kissing him in the dark. All at once it came over him, settled inside him. Comfort. Home.

Your nerves are unwarranted. You have prepared thoroughly.

So did the admiralty when the delegation turned them down.

You are Jim Kirk. Decidedly, not the admiralty.

Jim laughed, and the music came back distantly. Bells.

Spock continued. I, for one, have historically found it difficult to deny you anything.

Jim could feel the ache within him begin to subside as quickly as it had come, could practically feel Spock pulling it from him. He reached out again, hand closing around a wrist which was not there before he decided to hold onto it. 

I love you.

And I, you, ashaya. 

And with that, the meld began to abate, turning to mist and leaving only filtered sunlight behind Jim’s eyes. The sensation of Spock’s forehead against his own came to him like waves of a dream. He sighed, nodding forward until the hand supporting his chin steadied him enough for him to open his eyes. 

“Are you comforted, Jim?”

And the question was so sincere, he felt his heart reeling in appreciation for the man before him. 

“I am, thank you,” he murmured, and seemingly satisfied, Spock brought the razor up and grazed it over the missed spot on his cheek. He wordlessly gathered his belongings, submerged in the now frothy water, and disappeared to return them to his quarters.

Jim raised a hand to ghost over the spot their foreheads had met and thought back to a time long ago, when they were practically strangers, Spock's words to him.

'If I seem insensitive to what you’re going through, Captain, understand… it’s the way I am.'

Spock’s brow lifted when he caught Jim watching him a beat longer than he should have. He was standing in the doorway now, drying his hands, and all Jim could think was how could I have let him be so wrong?

All he said, however, was, “How do I look?”

“Tempting,” Spock answered without hesitation.

Jim’s grin warmed several degrees. “That is what I was going for.”

After taking a moment to appreciate the curve of Spock’s lips, reserved just for him to see, he finally stood to face the green tunic laid out with such care on his bed. Unsurprisingly, each medal was already pinned in perfect position. He ran the backs of his fingers over the dyed fabric, parted it, smiled when he found his undershirt neatly folded there too. He imagined Spock alone in the room as he was washing up. His careful movements, so precise and so graceful at the same time, always yielding perfect results. Point A to point B. The path of least resistance. Jim sometimes marveled that Spock, in all his simplicity, could tolerate him at all.

A hand pressed to the small of his back and Spock was standing close, their hips touching as he reached for the shirt. He presented it to Jim, who pulled it over his head, emerging to find Spock holding his tunic out for him to slide his arms into.

“I’m beginning to feel rather spoiled,” he teased before sliding one arm in, turning, sliding in the other. He leaned back and Spock wrapped his arms around him, closed the shirt over his chest, bowed his head to tuck himself into Jim’s neck. Lips pressed to his pulse. One. Two. Three.

“You are worthy of the treatment, Captain.”

Jim shut his eyes. Captain. It was spoken like a name. Like found treasure. Like he’d follow him anywhere. 

He turned again so they would be face to face, leaving some space for Spock’s hands which immediately sought out his sleeves to soothe them down his arms. Comfortable silence enveloped them as Spock resumed closing his cuffs, tightening the material over his wrists and sliding each gold disk through their respective slots.

“Thank you,” Jim said again sweetly once he was finished, reaching two fingers out to find Spock’s and pressing the tips of them together. As he so often did, Spock looked down at the contact, observing it as he pushed more purposefully along Jim’s fingers, up over the first fold of his palm. 

“I am confident you will be successful.”

Jim followed the path forward until he could lace their hands together fully. 

“What, I don’t get to hear the odds?”

Spock’s grip flexed inside Jim’s. Reverent. Devout. Jim squeezed back.

“I could provide them, however I see little point as it is your tendency to defy all probability.”

Jim leaned up on his toes to press a kiss to Spock’s cheek, delighted to leave behind the faintest imprint of sage.

“Perfectly logical, Mr. Spock. As always.”

#spirk #star trek #fanfic #ficlet #request #anon #space husbands #spock #captain kirk #fluff #mind meld #my writing

[macravishedbymactavish]

Alex Keller SFW Headcanons

| Blog HQ | Modern Warfare Masterlist | 18+ MDNI |

Headcanons for the man who has me in a literal and metaphorical chokehold

He is a straight up a nerd. Think: Star Wars, lego, Star Wars Lego!

Sitting on the floor, clad only in a pair of baggy plaid pajama pants surrounded by lego pieces. Eyes shining as he scanned over the instructions, soul feeling free and finally alive as he snapped the pieces together.

Soft sounds of the original trilogy playing through the speakers from the TV. Ignoring the nagging pain in his lower back as the child in him squealed in delight.

Another component completed. Now, onto bag 4.

Prefers to clean up while or after you cook, rather than cooking himself

Tending to the food in the pan, he reached around you to grab the discarded utensils. Placing them in either the dishwasher or sink; making soft comments about how many spoons you decided to use for one meal.

"If you don't like it, you're more than welcome to cook for me," you teased, watching as the man froze. A mischievous smirk spread across his face as he pointed a spoon at you.

"If it weren't for me, you'd be out of spoons 5 steps ago"

Horrible (like "reminder on the phone but will still with upmost confidence say the wrong date") with dates. Appointments and anniversaries, he's not very good. He blames it on his brain shutting off from not being in survival mode when at home, but genuinely feels bad

"Ma said they have something for our anniversary and will pop over to drop it off closer to the day. I told her it's on the 18th, so Saturday would work better, " Alex explained mindlessly, leaning back against the counter. Eyebrows raising when you froze.

Smiling softly, you whispered, "Sorry, what day is our anniversary?"

"The 18th. No, the 17th, " his eyebrows scrunched together as he thought. "No, actually 18th. Final answer" 

Leaning over, placing one hand on his cheek as you gave him a soft peck on the lips. "It's the 21st, actually"

Takes FOREVER to get ready for anything (especially fancy date nights and events)

Sitting on the edge of the tub, you watched in awe as Alex continued getting ready. Shirt still unbuttoned, belt not yet threaded through the loops of his pants; and he wasn't even halfway through his hair styling routine.

Multiple bottles and products lined the counters, all of which in use at one point or another as you sat and watched. Your outfit was ready and laying on the bed for when he was done with his hair.

After so long together, you'd become efficient in the timing of when to start getting yourself ready for a night out. Depending on which hair product he reached for next.

He has a super dark sense of humor

"Hey, since you have a ton of tattoos," you started, leaning against the doorframe as he fussed with his hair. "If a shark came and bit your arm off, would you be more upset about losing the arm or the tattoos?"

"The tattoos," he answered immediately. Pausing after to look himself up and down, nodding. "Definitely the tattoos"

Terrified of holding babies (despite being a total natural). He loves interacting with younger kids though.

"Uncle Alex!" The young boy squealed, running over and wrapping himself around the man's legs. "I'm a brother now, too!" 

Smiling down at his nephew, Alex laughed. Hoisting the boy up into his arms as he listened to the excited stories about his new little sister. Nodding along with genuine interest until the baby was brought over to him.

"Be fair. You can't just cuddle your nephew. She'll get jealous, " his sister, Ellie teased. Holding the newborn out. 

Freezing in place, as his nephew squirmed out of his grasp. Loudly encouraging him to hold the baby. Looking over at you, Alex sighed when he realized he was outnumbered.

"What if I drop her?" He whispered, fear flashing behind his eyes as the small bundle was passed over to him. The girl remained asleep as she was cuddled by tense arms.

"The obvious answer is don't." Mrs. Keller walked up behind him, placing her hands on his shoulders. Pressing into the tense muscles. "And relax. Things are more likely to go wrong when you're stressed out and stiff like a board"

Appreciates a good horror or FPS game - but nothing beats couch co-op and cuddles.

Snuggled against your side, he yelled nonesense as your characters scrambled around the screen. Grabbing boxes and flinging them onto the truck.

"What?!" You both laughed, watching as his character hoisted an animal into the air. "I have the chicken!" 

"We'll I'm moving an entire sectional by myself, so drop Cluck and help me!" you elbowed him lightly

Absolutley can't fall asleep in silence, no matter how hard he tries

He blames a lot of this on his childhood, the sound of clocks ticking throughout the house driving him mad. Reminding him of the sleep he wasn't getting. 

Even now, years later, as an adult, he tells you that if it's too quiet, he can still hear the distant ticking. He doesn't tell you that the silence also brews night terrors; that's not a side he wants to burden you with.

On the nights when he falls asleep alone, he'll usually have a movie or YouTube video playing in the background. If you can't fall asleep to a lot of noise, he'll opt for a fan or one of those sleep background noise tracks.

Unlike some of the other COD men -- I think he'd be the opposite of a human furnace. He'd be like a reptilian creature looking to sap your warmth at any given moment.

He makes a point to cuddle against you, as much contact between your bodies as possible. Almost like a human backpack.

"You're so warm," he sleepily mumbled, pressing his face into your back. Humming in content at the feeling of your body warming his.

His hair lightens so easily during the summer (In MW2019, he was dirty blonde. MW2022, as an operator he has dark brown hair)

"You're like two totally different people," you laughed, fingers running through the light locks as he rolled his eyes.

"It'll be back to normal by halloween," he half-heartedly grumbled. Adjusting the sunglasses on his face, holding back a smile. 

100% cries during movies, has no shame. Especially since it gets extra cuddles from you (even if you lightly tease him for it)

Your heart aching within your chest, the protagonist grieving their loss. Sighing softly, you silently reached forward, grabbing the box of tissues from your coffee table. Holding the box up to your boyfriend, who was trying (and failing) to hide his soft sniffles.

Head falling against his shoulder, feeling his arm tighten around you. His chest shaking with emotion he was trying (and failing) to hide.

Taglist: @bloodonmyhands-1221 @v1naco @bowtruckleninja

#call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare 2019 #call of duty alex #alex keller #alex keller headcanons #alex keller x reader #alex keller fluff #cod mw #cod mw2019

[villain-apolog1st]

Lipstick (David Rossi x Wife!Reader)

Summary: you and David can’t stay off of each other during the car ride to an event

Warnings: NSFW, handjob, finger fucking, semi-public (car with a driver), dirty talk (with slight degrading), competitive (?), (fem!reader)

Translations: dolcezza (honey)

A/N: short fic loosely inspired by Beyoncé’s Partition

You stood in front of the mirror and admired your reflection. The jewel-toned dress you were wearing was floor length with a slit and fit your form perfectly. Your husband was being honoured at a gala tonight recognizing his and others’ contributions to criminology, and as his wife you wanted to ensure you looked the part.

You put on your diamond studs before heading downstairs to where David was pouring both of you champagne. He was dressed in a dark suit, his tie and handkerchief matching your dress. You could smell the expensive cologne he was wearing, the scent enveloping you as you approached him.

“There she is,” he grinned as he handed you a glass. “You are just stunning, Mrs. Rossi.”

David used a hand to spin you around as you giggled, admiring every angle of your form. He pulled you in close, about to press his lips to yours before you turned away.

“Ah, ah,” you tutted. “You are not smudging my lipstick tonight, Dave. Not when all of those important people are going to be at this gala.”

You pulled yourself away from his grip, much to his disappointment. Soon enough, the honk of the driver sounded from outside. The two of you headed out, where the driver was holding the door open for the two of you.

The gala was taking place at a fancy hotel downtown that was a bit of a drive from your secluded home. The view out the window was scenic, and the driver turned the radio up so that the car was filled with soft music.

You sighed softly as David pressed a kiss into your hair. You felt his mouth moving lower, working its way towards your neck as his hand reached up and caressed your breasts.

“David,” you warned.

“Well I’m not smudging your lipstick, am I?” He asked playfully.

“You know, it took me over an hour to get- oh,” you gasped softly when his mouth reached your neck, softly sucking at the sensitive skin.

“It’s not my fault, dolcezza.” David said against your skin, inhaling the scent of your perfume. “You look too beautiful not to touch.”

Your resolve was breaking quickly, especially since his hand was making its way up your leg through the slit of your dress. Blood rushed to your face when you heard the sound of the partition rolling up, realizing the driver was giving the two of you some privacy.

You bit back a moan when David slid your panties aside and began circling your clit with his fingers, making you squirm in your seat. “Don’t let the driver hear you,” he teased.

You could tell he was delighted at your predicament and you decided then that you wouldn’t be the only one coming undone in this car.

You reached towards his lap, to his surprise, and made quick work of unbuckling his belt. “What’re you-” David started, his fingers slowing their ministrations. He clenched his jaw to stop himself from moaning when you took his cock into your hand. You gave it a few strokes as it hardened, using your thumb to spread his precum over the tip. “Don’t let the driver hear you,” you smirked.

You began rhythmically pumping his cock in your hand, enjoying how much David had to restrain himself. He caught the glint in your eye and began circling your clit again, eager to see you come before he did.

“F-fuck,” you hissed as he teased your entrance before plunging in. You panted softly as David fucked you with his fingers, desperately trying not to make any incriminating sounds.

Wanting to win, you retaliated by quickening the pace of your strokes, feeling his cock begin to pulse in your hand.

“I know what you’re doing, Y/N, but you’re going to come on my fingers regardless.” David panted lowly into your ear while his thumb began circling your clit. “And in the back seat of a car too. You’re such a slut for me, sweetheart.”

It was a last ditch effort, knowing how his words would affect you. Fortunately for him, he was right, and he watched smugly as you came around his fingers.

Lost in pleasure, you met David’s lips with yours in a needy kiss. Both of you moaned as his tongue entered your mouth, just as you felt his cock twitch in your hand before he came. David groaned into your mouth as his cock oozed out cum, his hand gripping onto you tightly.

Pulling away, you quickly took his handkerchief from his pocket and used it to clean yourselves off as best you could. As David buckled his belt, you opened your phone’s camera and were surprised to find your lipstick mostly intact. Aside from a slightly damp forehead and a few flyaway hairs, your appearance didn’t give much away.

“See, I didn’t smudge it.” David winked at you, making you laugh. “I guess not.”

The car rolled to a stop and you looked out the window to see you’d arrived. The driver came around to open the door, and David got out before offering his hand to you.

You thanked the driver, who avoided eye contact with either of you. You and David tried not to laugh as you walked up the steps to the hotel, arm in arm.

“Room 1203,” he said suddenly. You looked up at him, curious.

David leaned in close just as you reached the hotel doors. “That’s where I’ll be doing more than just smudging your lipstick later tonight.”

#c: david rossi #criminal minds #rossi x reader #criminal minds smut #david rossi #david rossi criminal minds #david rossi smut #david rossi x fem!reader #bau team #aaron hotchner #hotch criminal minds #spencer reid #derek morgan #emily prentiss #david rossi imagine #criminal minds oneshot #smut oneshot #Beyoncé

[munsonology]

Sugar Daddy! Eddie who just happens to meet you. You're a waitress at some restaurant and he gives you a hard time. Eddie is joking but he has a bit of a bite to his tone. He's expecting you to blubber and apologize like everyone else does when he snaps (he isn't typically a dick, but sometimes his social cues are off and he can come across as dickish). You immediately give him sass back. He's immediately intrigued, you've got a backbone and you're pretty? Score. Plus, he is 85% certain you were checking him out as he was lead to your table.

Unfortunately, another customer does not appreciate your sass (honestly tho, that customer was an asshole who kept making classist comments and called you trailer trash, which you aren't even sure what that means fully)(Eddie overhears that on his way to the bathroom and immediately knows what that means). Customer complains which is enough for the boss to fire you on the spot. Completely unfairly. You show up early, work your ass off, plus you don't even get to keep all the tips cause Mr Bossman keeps part of them because "you should be lucky you have a job".

You storm out snd Eddie is hot on your heels. He gives you an offer you can't refuse, you do have college to pay for and an apartment. At first, it isnt even anything sexual. He just wants to chat. To talk. To have a companion. Which led to cuddling. Which led to a kiss here and a kiss there. Which led to one heavy make-out session which you realized maybe college wasn't for you cause you could get used to this (this is also the time Eddie cums in his pants and he berates himself for acting like a horny teen, and he thanks every God he knows that you didnt notice).

Of course which leads to Eddie buying you lingerie *he already bought you many things and part of you wanted to refuse because you don't want his pity money you want to earn your money...on the other hand you want to be spoiled*. Which of course you model. Which of course ends in a photo session of you modeling the lingerie. And when Eddie has to go away to check in on one of his record stores, you're a little sad. But you're also a minx and just text him to open his camera roll to the hidden folder (the one where you have to put a pass code in). Eddie is confused cause he had 0 clue that was a thing.

He texts you asking for the code. You respond "its what I want to do with you." Before he can respond you say "it starts with a f". He types in the numbers that would correspond with the word fuck and he's immediately hard. Not only is there more pics of you modeling the lingerie, but one with you fingering yourself, and a video of said fingering where you are moaning his name and when you come you squirt. He's booking the next flight to you

Oh my word!!!!!!! Anon you’ve read my mind!!! I’m writing this in the grocery store 😭😭 thank you for sharing this!!! Inspirational!!

Cw: daddy kink, sugar daddy, cum eating, dom/soft dom eddie

Before you get fired there’s a couple weeks where he comes in everyday at the same time and sits in your section just to banter with you. He leaves a great tip which is always welcome.

So when he offers to take care of you in return for companionship. You’re hesitant at first but when the bills start piling up you call him. He immediately deposits your first payment for just coming over. $10,000, he kinda feels at fault for getting you fired. He has a contract drawn up by his personal attorney just to make sure that everything done is on your terms.

And he’s starting to really like you, beyond the 4 walls of the contract. You’re starting to fall for him too. He’s kind and gentle with you, more what any man your own age has ever done. He’s compassionate and sweet. He takes you out to dinner to tell you he doesn’t want the contract anymore. He wants to really be with you and it’s what you want too.

You’re wearing the fancy lingerie he bought for you. When he drives through garage of his penthouse in the city, he stands behind you as you admire the view of the city. He peels the straps of your dress from your shoulder, exposing your tits to the skyline. He grabs them in his hands and you keen into him 😭 his hands are so big and his rings are pinching your nipples!!!

And he lifts your dress up to see you aren’t wearing any fuckin panties!!! You’re so wet he can see the stain on the silk dress. He’s like “I’ll fill your skirt with as many dresses as you want baby” and he rips the dress down the middle and hiked it up to your tummy!!!

He gently lays you down on the floor and eats your like a grocery store in the apocalypse!!!! He guides you through orgasm after orgasm until his clothes are soaked and so is the floor 😦

And then he fucks the shit outta you!!!! Because even though he’d like to make love to you he just can’t wait! His cock thrusts in you while he has a hand on your neck and his other hand on your clit “you’re gonna cum when I tell you to princess”

“Yes daddy” you moan

“Who’s pussy is this”

“Yours daddy”

“Who’s ass is this?”

“Mine” you tease and he grips your cheeks, because you’re being bratty and you know he hasn’t fucked your sweet ass yet 😭

“It’ll be mine by morning baby. I know how much you want my cock in your ass. You’ve been hinting at it for weeks. Texting me those little peaches. Don’t worry I’ll split you open real good.”

You mewl and drab his wrist. “Please I want your cock so bad daddy”

“My baby gets what she wants. Open,” he commands and you open your mouth and happily accept the his spit!!!

And he fucks you like that until tears fall from your eyes in pleasure and you’re screaming his name. He pulls out and cums all over your tits and tummy, some landing on your face. You dip and finger in and taste with a little smirk and offer him some!! 🤤😦😦😭

Yeah he’ll make love to you tomorrow night 😭😭😭

Bestie what if Janice is his housekeeper/personal assistant because she practically helped Wayne raise him and she comes in the next morning to see you and Eddie butt naked in the living room 😭😭😭😭 Eddie is a heavy sleeper so you woke up with her standing there and she’s like “I guess you’re a keeper then titmouse” 😭😭😭😭

#eddie munson/reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x female reader #fem reader #eddie munson x black!reader #eddie munson fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x black female reader #sav’s anons #eddie munson/female reader #older!eddie #older!eddie munson #sugar daddy!eddie #sugar daddy!eddie munson #Janice #munsonology #dom!eddie #soft dom!eddie

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

Hiii! its me once again. First off, hope you're doing well and I want to thank you so much for the last 2 request I had. Outstanding work! So here goes my next request: public sex with Matt, so the reader and matt are at a fancy party with Foggy and Marci, so in this special occasions the reader decides to dress really fancy and Matt goes feral with her scent. After a while at the party he just haves to fuck her. So they run to the bathroom and fuck but then they are kicked out.

Thank you sweetie!

hii lovely! im doing good thank you, hope you are too! thank you so much, it means the world. you always give such great ideas, so I hope you like it. I loved writing it, maybe a bit too much lmao💌

inspired by this gif (bc it suits perfectly)

behave (matt x f reader)

wc || 1.6k

warnings || public/ toilet sex, p in v, mentions of alcohol. think that’s it’s, just a fun and naughty one

masterlist + rules

taglist

Foggy’s here.” Matt calls out to you, pacing patiently around by the front door.

“One sec.” You shout out in reply, spritzing a couple pumps of perfume before adding your essentials to your little clutch.

Pacing towards Matt, snickering at the way he was purposely knocking his stick into things, clearly bored of waiting. “Well don’t you look handsome.” You beamed, straightening his tie.

His hands rest on your waist as he feels the fabric. “What’s this? This feels different.” He smiles at the new feeling.

“Well, that part is sheer but underneath is satin, and underneath that… is just naked skin.” You sweetly flirt, brushing over his stubble before lingering with a half kiss. “Chop chop, Foggy’s here.” You tease, holding his hand as he groans, walking you both out of the apartment.

“What colour is it?” He smirks while locking the front door.

“The satin is the same colour as your glasses, and the sheer part is the same as the suit you’re wearing- yellow.” Hiding a playful smirk.

“Yellow?!” His eyes bug out.

Snickering to yourself, “no I’m just messing, it’s black… or is it?” You tease, walking arm and arm down the stairs. Walking out to the limo, Matt holds it open, letting you in first.

Greeting Foggy and Marci warmly, “hey guys.”

“What colour is my suit?” Matt blurts out immediately, wasting no time.

“…black…” Foggy says slowly. “Did she tell you it wasn’t?” Looking at you.

“Yeah.” He pretends to look upset, causing you to laugh hard.

“You can’t do that- he hates that.” Foggy tries to scold you, but just ends up laughing himself.

“I couldn’t help myself, I’m sorry honey.” You teasingly coo, rubbing over his back.

“You guys better behave yourselves tonight, it’s kind of a big deal.” Foggy says seriously, looking

between the two of you. His hand lacing into Marci’s, “keep it in your pants.”

Rising your hands as if to show innocence, “we’d never do such thing.” Looking over at Matt to see the beginning of a smirk appear.

“Matt!” Foggy scolds, “I’m talking to you, you- you, man-whore.”

“Oh, he’s such a whore.” You tease, playfully slapping his thigh.

For the rest of the car journey, you all exchanged jokes, hoping to get it out of your systems before you got to the event.

The limo slowed down and pulled up. Foggy and Marci got out first, which left you and Matt in there for a few seconds. Turning to him, “you better keep it in your pants, Mr Murdock, you heard your friend.” Lingering yet another kiss on his lips, before you stepped out.

Adjusting your shawl, linking your arms in Matt’s as you walked into the building. “So many snooty people in here.” You quietly say.

“It’s a law event for lawyers… does that make me snooty too?” He asks, leaning down to talk into your ear as the space was too noisy.

“No. You’re slutty. Come on I need a drink.” Holding his hand, pulling him through the crowd. Asking the bartender for your drinks, paying before you both stepped aside.

“I kind of should mingle.” Matt says with a joking scowl.

“‘Mingle’ who are you?” You tease, taking a slip from your straw. “I’m just kidding, tell me who you need to see, so I can take us there- gotta make this blind guy act look believable.” Jokingly tapping his chest.

“Alright, I do actually need to speak to Hogarth.” Matt says into your ear, kissing the soft skin underneath. “You smell great, by the way. It’s my favourite perfume of yours.” He places your arm through the gap in his so that they’re linked once again. “Now please lead the way.” He chuckles as you walked towards Jeri in the corner talking to some women.

“She seems kinda occupied right now.” You wryly laugh. “Oh! Oh. That guy you met with last week is over there, want to speak to him?”

“No.” He groans.

“Why?” Groaning back, copying his tone.

Bending down to talk into your ear, “I’d rather be with you.” Pulling away with a devious smirk.

“You are naughty. No, come on, you might get some information about that case.” You say trying to perk him up.

“Hello sir, I met with you the other week, this is my girlfriend.” Pointing his thumb at you standing next to him. “I was hoping you had a few spare moments to talk about the case again.”

You were very professional when you needed to be, you could turn your playful nature off instantly. Which was actually a great thing, as it meant you were able to adapt and be charming whenever necessary. Matt’s head would tilt to the side grinning as you wooed the man, listening to the way you’d become so passionate when you spoke of Matt’s work ethic.

Saying your farewells to the man, both of your professional exteriors immediately vanish. Matt’s head hangs low, mouth mere centimetres away from your ears, “I need you, right now.”

Giggling as you looked around for Foggy, hoping not to find him. “I’ll meet you in the toilet’s upstairs. Far corner, right at the back. Two minutes.”

He brushes a featherlight kiss to your lips as you walked away from each other separating, both thinking that this way will be less obvious.

Matt is already there waiting, noticing his frustrated breathing, quickly walking over to him. “Are they all empty?” You subtly ask.

“Yeah.” He replies instantly.

“Are you just saying that?”

“Yeah.” Pulling you into the individual toilet room, slamming and locking the door shut behind you.

His hands eagerly hold your face as he brings it towards him, planting desperate kisses all over your lips. Shrugging off his suit as he panted exasperatedly into the skin under your jaw.

Gripping onto your hips as he pushed you up against the door, making out urgently. Hands roaming to the back of your neck, holding it to control your movements.

Hiking your dress and pulling it up to rest above your thighs as you begin to wind your hips forward, purposely rubbing yourself against his bulging crotch. The desperation leaves both of your lips in a whine.

He undoes his trousers, allowing them to pool around his ankles. Lifting you up from under your ass with great ease as you wrapped your legs around his lower hips. His chest is flush with yours, holding you up while he pumps his cock a couple times. Rubbing himself through your slick folds, using your wetness as lube. Lining his tip up with your entrance and keeping it there while his hands wrapped back around you.

Lowering you slightly, allowing you to sink down, moulding around him as you adjust. His grip on your waist pulls you off his cock, before he slams you back down onto him.

Your arms wrap around his shoulders, draping over his head as he starts rutting up into you. Grunting desperately into the crook of your neck as your body jerked up and down. The back of your head pressed up against the door as you whimpered at the engulfing feeling.

All of the teasing you did throughout the night felt like edging and it felt so incredibly intense to finally be here. Eyes screwing shut as the front of his cock repeatedly hit the spot you both loved.

His teeth graze along your neck as he whines into it. A slurry mix of words leaves his parted lips. “You feel so good, so so good.” Kissing under your chin. “Sound so unbelievably pretty.” Those words alone made you want to explode on site. “As much as I love those beautiful noises, you gotta be quiet, people are outside.” He pants into your ear. He hushes you, while picking up the pace.

His spare hand clasps over your mouth to block your increasingly louder whimpers. Whispering into your ear, “someone’s coming, you gonna come too, hm? You got to keep quiet though, Angel. Shush.” His thrusts becoming more precise and desperate.

The main toilet door opens, eyes screwing shut trying to be quiet while Matt incessantly rutted up into you.

His hand gripped tighter over your mouth as he could tell you were getting close. You accidentally clamp around him causing Matt to gently groan at the sensation, your hand immediately slapping over his mouth to quiet him.

Unable to hold it any longer, you let go- spasming and convulsing around his cock, causing his own warm release to spill into you.

A combination of cum ran out of you, pooling on the floor as he slowed down.

Hazily kissing over your face in a post-sex glaze-over. “You did so good.” He praises, tucking rouge strands of hair behind your ears. Kissing your nose, “so good.”

“Hello?” A random voice says.

Both of your eyes bug out, clearly not hearing a stranger enter.

“Security. I’m going to have you ask you guys to leave.” The male voice says sternly.

You both decide not to engage, hopefully, the man will just walk away. But no, you were wrong. The man knocks on the door behind your back. “Hello.” His tone sharpened.

“I’m just changing my tampon, do you mind?” You lie.

“Someone told me what was going on in here, you gotta go.”

“It’s just a tampon dude. Nothing going on.”

“Why are there two people in there?” Growing frustrated.

“I uh- needed help…?” You slowly say, trying to stop yourself from laughing when you saw Matt’s confused expression.

“I don’t get paid enough for this, you two- OUT.”

“Okay alright, one minute.”

Leaning into Matt’s ear whispering, “we both run out, you go left I go right. Go far so he can’t catch us.”

Even though Matt is technically a man of the law, he loved these fun and spontaneous moments with you.

Both adjusting your clothes and getting ready to run. He pulls you in for a tender kiss, before unlocking the door. Both immediately bolting out the door, running out of the toilets and down the hallway in a zigzag motion, loudly giggling to yourselves.

#matt murdock #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x reader #matthew murdock #matthew murdock x you #matthew murdock x reader #matt murdock smut #i need him

[artaxlivs]

Ooh I love it!

It's already past midnight here and I really should be in bed already but I had to send in an ask!

I'll ask for a treat! 🍧🍩🍪🍬🍯🎂🧁🍫🍭😘

Anything is fine by me I don't think I have any hard no's and any rating is also fine!

Can't wait for the ooky spooky/Halloween vibes!

☠️⚰️🎃👻💀🕷️🕸️😈🗡️🖤

Treat it is babes!

"Steve, come on," Dustin wheedles, "You promised!"

"I know, I'm doing it, I just think you should have warned me there would be a wig." Especially since he could have saved the 30 minutes it had taken to make his hair look this naturally perfect. Steve sighs and pulls the scraggly brown wig on. "Who am I again?"

All four of the boys are barefoot, wearing pants cut off at the shins, button up shirts and suspenders. Dustin and Lucas are in vests. All five of them warm against the autumn chill in thick capes. Most of Steve's outfit is in varying shades of dark brown. The boots are kind of fancy and the fake sword on his hip is kinda cool. He's not gonna admit that part but it's bringing out some long forgotten little boy urge to have a pretend sword fight on the front lawn.

Sighing, Lucas says, "You're Aragorn, the rightful king of Gondor. In the Lord of the Rings books. He's the badass." He clips a smaller sword to his own belt, "remember we told you about Gondor?"

Sort of. Steve was only half listening.

Mike yanks open the basement door that leads to the side yard, "Let's go, I heard Eddie's van pull up!"

The boys all excitedly race out, empty pillow cases flapping behind them. There's so shrieking and Steve hears Robin excitedly shouting about hobbits. Steve's pretty sure that's what Dustin said the boys were. Finally he heads outside, pulling the door shut behind him.

He doesn't even make it around the house before Eddie's grabbing his arm and dragging him back inside to shove him against the basement door. "Harrington. You need to warn me if you're going to dress up like every wet dream I've ever had." The kiss is too wet and too aggressive but Steve's very into it.

Between one breath and the next Eddie is dropping to his knees and pulling at the fastener on Steve's pants. "Oh my god, Steve, I can't - fuck, Jesus, this is, oh my god, just shut up." '

"I haven't even said anything." Steve gasps as he dick is freed from his pants.

"Boys? Are you still down there?" Mrs. Wheeler calls down from the top of the stairs and Steve immediately stills.

"It's just me Mrs. Wheeler, I needed to fix my costume before we start walking around." Steve calls up, pushing Eddie's hands off of him and tucking himself back in carefully. "Headed out now, I'll keep an eye on them." He smacks Eddie's roving hands and drags his boyfriend up to shove out him out the basement door.

Pulling Eddie along behind him, Steve says with a smug little smile, glad he at least remembers this part, "Come on, Gondor calls for aid."

"Oh fuck you, Harrington." Eddie growls.

#trick or treat asks #LOTR #stranger things #steddie #hobbitses #Eddie was dressed as Faramir

[juvenillia]

~ second death ~ Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x fem!reader [hurt fic]

summary: Johnny has to prepare himself for a special day, that he never believed would come.

a/n: what can I say? I read this quote and had to get those broken feelings out of my system sorry not sorry we like to suffer

cw/tw: angst, hurt (no comfort), mentions of loss, death, petnames, there is some fluff in between

worcount: 1.8k

》Read on AO3《 》Master Post《

"There was before you and there was during you. For some reason, I never thought there would be an after you." - Colleen Hoover

The look in the mirror, nothing more than a tired reflection of him, staring in the distant. Johnny always knew that his job was hard. That it was full of vicious events repeating one another. But he always came back, especially after he found a reason to which to return to.

"Can I help you?", you asked him with your sweetest smile. He only stood there, literally staring at you. When he was on leave, he always dropped by the traditional bakery in his hometown. Mr. Kringle would already know what he ordered. It was always the same, a pair of the fudge brownies with white chocolate inside and a regular coffee. He didn't expect to be greeted by a new face. "Uhrm. Can ye recommend something?" He suddenly sounded so insecure. So, unlike his physical appearance. Your eyes trailed over the different things separating the two of you behind the glass. "I do fancy these. They're sweet but not to over the top and go perfectly with a black coffee." You explained softly pointing at the baked goods. He didn't even look at them, his eyes are pinned at your soft features. Trying to burn every feature in his brain and he only nodded. "Would you like anything else?", you said soothing while packing his order with such a careful and lovely manner. "Yer number." He was so straightforward, his voice much more confident and you couldn't help the blush growing on your cheeks. Of course, you gave him your number.

He changed; the last mission was harder. Harder than he ever thought, because for the first time he had the feeling, the fear, of not returning. And somehow, he didn’t. A part of him stayed there. A part of him died in Las Almas. That was the first time John MacTavish died. His glance flashes to the bed of your shared bedroom. Well folded sheets, silky in a wonderful olive green. They still hold your scent. It is the only thing that keeps him sane. It is the only thing that lulls him to sleep. He wasn’t able to change those sheets since he returned.

"I like the green ones. They complement the lights when the sun rises.", you chimed while holding the fabric in your delicate fingers. "Whatever yer want, mo ghraidh." [my love] he placed a soft kiss onto the crone of your head. "Johnny.", you exhaled jokingly annoyed. "What?" - "It's gonna be your home too, you can't let me decide everything.", you said while placing the sheets in the shopping cart and hooking your arm around his. He only smiled at you. "Whatever makes you smile, makes me happy."

His eyes return to the image in the mirror. He adjusts the bow tie around his neck. Smoothing out some wrinkles in the suit he wears. He hates suits. Especially this one.

"Bloody ‘ell, MacTavish. It isn't that hard to pick a damn suit.", Simon exhaled annoyed while Johnny puts on what feels like the millions suit. "It has to be perfect. Alright?!", he yelled from the changing room where he just fought with those tight pants. Maybe he gained some muscles again and should buy a larger one. You definitely wouldn't mind. "She isn't marrying the suit; she is marrying ya. And that is already a miracle itself mate.", Simon explained while scrolling through his phone. Johnny paused his movements and grins like a mad man. Bended over he looked in the tiny mirror in front of him, but not at himself. More like in the distant. " 'm gonna marry her.", his voice is filed with pure sincerity.

His fingers run over the side of the bed where you always slept. The mattress still having an imprint of your figure where you were lying all the time. The spot he now sits down and would just love to be swallowed by the soft mattress.

"Love...", you exhaled only above a whisper. He only pushed him closer into you, his head resting on your chest and counting your heartbeat while trying to steady his own. You absently let your hand play with the strand of his hair. "It’s alright. I’m here with you.", you chimed in your sing song voice. He only nuzzled his head further into you while squeezing your sides. "I love ya, bonnie." You only kissed the top of his head. “I love you too.”, he closed his eyes again and drifted away once more.

His eyes trail over to the window. Showing a little garden. It was neatly organized. Flowers blooming everywhere. The ones right in front if the window, they were your favorites.

"MacTavish, you're an unbelievable idiot.", you cried out while cleaning the mud from your face. He wrapped his arms around your waist, hands full of dirt. "And all yours, my dear.", he chimed while picking you up and swirling your around. Holding you close in his embrace. "Forever, yours.", he repeated softly before letting your lips meet his. You cupped his cheeks, but mostly to get revenge. Greasing the mud all over his face, just like he did a few minutes before. "Ya gonna regret that." He snickers, while you pulled out if his embrace and started running away from him. The laugh never ending while he chased you and pulled you down into the still wet grass and planted kisses all over your face. It was his favorite melody.

He pushes himself up from the bed and goes downstairs. Simon is already here, as well as Kyle. He looks at them, wearing those suits he knew too well. They look back at him. Their faces wear a weak smile, and Johnny only nods before his eyes drift over to the kitchen to the right.

"Bonnie, we have guests.", Johnny yelled out while entering your house. You walked downstairs to greet his teammates. "Nice to see you again. Tea?", you chimed while heading over to the kitchen and pulling the kettle down from the shelf. "I still think ya don't deserve her, Soap.", Kyle said while following you. "When yer hold hostage blink twice.", he said looking at you, and Johnny just pushed him gently in the side. "Ya can always call, when he does something stupid.", Simon assured you. Pulling out their usual mugs from the shelf above you. "So, you mean like all the time?", you asked jokingly. You all laughed. During these times the world seemed alright.

It's silent. The two men only look at him, nodding silently. Johnny swallows hardly before heading outside to Simon's car. The taller man taking the driver’s seat. Johnny sinks int the passenger seat and closes his eyes.

"You won't drive. Please you're way too battered, love.", you pulled him away from the driver’s seat and he lets you. Simon gently took the keys out of Johnny's hand. "Aye. But you dae wanna make out with me still. Eh?", his walk was sloppy as you helped him in the backseat, still wearing the smile you fell in love with in the first place. Kyle took the passenger’s seat in the front. "Always." You placed a quick peek on his cheek while securing the seatbelt before moving into the car next to him. Reaching out for his hand.

The men climb out of the car and head right into the church. With every step forward it grows heavier. Johnny wants to run away. He wants to turn away. Simon and Kyle are right behind him. Simon’s hand lingered on his shoulder. His face is serious, but never cold.

"Finally satisfied?", Kyle asked in a mocking tone. "I hope so.", Simon exhaled quite annoyed. They wore the suits Johnny picked out and they stood in front of a mirror. Johnny nodded. "She's gonna love it.", he beams in happiness and even Simon couldn't suppress the smile growing at his lips.

They enter the church you loved so much. Everything seemed so pretty. Too pretty. The place is decorated in your favorite flowers. Your friends and family are all gathered together. A man walks up to the front and starts a speech.

"I just can't put all my feelings for her in a minute speech. How is this supposed to work?!", he panicked and Simon scoffs. "Just imaging what you really want her to hear. A few things you always wanted to say to her but never found the right time to.", he stated calm. Kyle and Johnny looked at him in disbelief. "That could actually work." - " That’s why I am yer best man..."

So, he stands up straight and starts his speech. Hands gripping tight on a little paper in his hands. Every word is heavy on his tongue, but he manages to push through and holds the tears back. "I never realized how lost I was in this world until I looked into your eyes. In those pretty eyes I found my home. And when I heard your voice for the first time, I heard my future. I committed myself completely and only to you, and I would do it again and again. Forever yours.", his voice goes quiet. Nobody of the guests would really understand his words, but you would. That is the only thing that matters. His heart is shattered into pieces as he places a ring down into the earth. A ring you was meant to wear. A ring he got long time ago because he was sure about it. Sure, about you.

"Yer lost mate.", Simon exhaled shocked while looking at the little box Johnny held out to him. "Why?" - "Ya know her for a month, went to yer first date like two ago and yer already got 'her a ring??" Johnny chuckled, his eyes lingering on the box. "I know she's the right one Lt. I just know." Simon only shook his head, but a soft smile was on his lips.

This was the moment all the people around him witnessed the second death of Johnny MacTavish. There was before you. A time Johnny can't remember at all. Because you changed it all for him. The time during your shared life was everything he ever wanted. Everything he never thought he could have. And somehow, he never thought there would be time after you but here you were. He always supposed he would leave way before you, but that wasn't the case. Here is he standing surrounded by people that love you, but nobody could understand what you meant to him. Nobody of them would understand the love he's holding for you. Nobody would understand that with your leaving you also took him with you.

#johnny soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #soap cod #soap mw2 #soap x reader #soap x y/n #soap x you #soap angst #soap hurt #johnny soap mctavish x reader #cod mw x reader #cod mw2 #task force 141 x reader #task force 141 #cod x reader #one shot #im hurtin #hurt/comfort #johnny mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish x reader #cod angst #cod hcs #cod men #simon ghost riley #simon riley #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #cod mw ghost #cod mw soap

[theincognitomoth]

Sweeter than Custard

Mr. Wolf x female reader

Rating: +18

Word count: 7.4k

Summary: “I meant what I said last night, Moe,” you said. “And I don’t want to pretend it didn’t happen. So don’t… don’t pretend it didn’t.”

Water drops falling from your face into the metal of the sink never echoed so loud, other than that, your heart beating on your ears was the only sound in the apartament. Your guts twisted.

“Please say something.” you said.

“You were very drunk.” Wolf finally spoke. “I… tried not to think much about it. I didn’t know if you would even remember last night, much less that you really meant any of that.”

“I did.”

During a party late at night, you get drunk out of your good senses and let your feelings for your friend slip. The next morning you can't tell what haunts you more; Your words or your actions.

Warnings: smut - vulgar language - friends to lovers - drinking - pra!se k!nk - reader is a bit bit of a pillow princess but only because Wolf is a service top - no Y/N - I swear, the summary is the angstiest part in the entire fic.

 

The ‘too soft to sleep in’ couch swallowed your overheated body cocooned in a furry blanket. Awake for some time now, you knew pain awaited the moment you opened your eyes, lovely Mr. Sun outside, in all its glorious morning shine, would blind you and enable the sledgehammer banging your skull to keep going at full strength.

Stupid, foolish, horny little you. A conscious person would’ve quit after the fifth drink, but no, not you, you kept going, the strawberry mojito cold sourness overpowered your exhausted resilience. If only your problems resumed to the hangover. A liver failure perished in comparison to the hot shame crawling its way over your twisted guts as the blurred memories gained focus.

“Shit…” You pressed your palms against your eyes.

Wolf was right, hangover and regret don’t go well together.

Last night was supposed to be harmless fun. After a particular rough work month, Diane decided to treat you and the guys to a private party. She reserved the top of the fancy condominium you all had the privilege to live in - perks of working and being friends with the governor, the budget was anything but tight - Chilly night, open sky dotted with fainted stars by the city lights, and a crystalline pool smelling of chlorine. Colorful lights and two dozen silver balloons scattered completed the scenery. Diane filled the place with snacks and drinks, and you couldn’t keep your hands off the custard tarts, sitting in one of the floral sofas by the covered bar area, you devoured the sweets. Uncovering criminal masterminds from the city alongside Diane’s re-election campaign drained pleasure out of your life, you needed and deserved to indulge a little.

 Chatter, dance, and music at the right volume to avoid noise complaints. Harmless fun. The problem began when Diane, bless her unknowing soul, pointed out the sheer variety of alcoholic beverages up for grabs in the open, do it yourself, bar. Chances of avoiding a fine due to loudness flew out the loft alongside Piranha’s pants. Property damage would weigh on his and Miss Governor's wallet, for as it turns out, drunk Diane much enjoyed wrestling, and Piranha jumped at the opportunity to go crazy. She poked his eyes and he bit her tail, whoever lost the round that no one bothered to judge took a shot of rum with orange soda, ending with the two passed out on the floor. Snake stayed with Wolf at the bar, drinking and talking like civilized people, but forgot the calmness when Shark took hundreds of push-pops to the pool with him. Snake threw himself in the water without much thought, ‘I’m a quarter river snake!’ he said, and came back five minutes later with no push-pop, but poor Weebs, who in her drunken state cannonballed the 8 feet deep pool. She was saved, but her laptop passed to a better place. After that you guys played impressions, and if not for Shark's impeccable acting skills, Wolf would’ve won with his unhinged Professor Marmalade act as he screamed the meteor was a heart and not a goddamn buttcrack. Shark passed out in the pool, Snake and Weebs called it a night soon after. You almost followed suit, trying to be a responsible drinker to avoid a next day death wish, but everytime you glanced at the strawberry mojitos, your hand moved on its own and before you knew it, you had downed two more.

Now there you were, the once cold glass turned lukewarm and unable to stand still as the world spinned. You pushed yourself from the bar’s stool and your brain almost fell out, blurry vision trying to make out the exit to either pass out in the elevator or in your home’s living room carpet. You hoped, not wanting to come up with an excuse as to why a neighbor's kid found a woman in the elevator, smelling of alcohol and surrounded by puke. But your traitorous eyes refused to find the door; instead they found a lone gray figure, leaned on a sofa five feet away from you and going through pictures with a smile. Your heavy feet marched towards him on their own, pulled like a magnet with disregard for furniture on the way - you stumbled and knocked chairs down - and for your body -tripping and falling on said furniture - At the end of your painstaken journey with one scraped knee and a broken nail, Wolf looked at you with amusement.

“Wolfie!” You threw yourself by his side with a giggle, the man letting out a ‘hmph!’ as your head hit his chest. “Hi.”

His arm weighted comfortably on your shoulder.

“Hi to you too,” he said. “Someone clearly had fun.”

“Yeah, I ate all the custard tarts.” The creamy sweetness still lingered on the back of your throat, even after the mojitos. “But I wanted more, they’re gone so fast. I blinked and puff! No more custard tarts! Gone… I wanted more.”

His large clawed hand reached for your face, wiping the hair away from it and showing custard cream in his fingertips, you wanted to lick it off to savor the godsend taste one more time, like an sweethoot addict, but Wolf whipped the cream away before you could.

“Tragedy of life, you don’t always get what you want.” Wolf pointed his head at the bar. “So you drank your sorrows away?” 

“Yeah… like…” You counted on your fingers. “Probably more than six strawberry mojitos. I lost count.”

On the small round table in front of the sofa sat a half filled glass of said drink, ice already melted and probably tasting more of water and rum than strawberry. Who knows whose mouth was in that glass. 

Before your half asleep brain stopped your hand, you downed the drink. Your nose scrunched, tasted as shitty as you thought.

“Hey, that was”- Wolf said, looking at you and at the empty glass. “... Nevermind.” “Strawberry tastes good.”

“Sure does.”

“Custard tarts are better though.”

You glanced over to his hand, leaning further on his chest to see what he held, his heartbeat quick and short over the white cotton shirt.

“What’s that?”

Wolf’s chuckle reverberated through his chest, the hairs in your neck rising with the motion.

“Tonight’s highlights.”

He flashed the polaroid pictures to you like a deck of cards, forever immortalized in them were Diane’s and Piranha wrestling match, Weebs ruling the dance floor with her tarantula exclusive moves while Shark did the vogue on the background, and Snake pulling the most random drinks from the bar and mixing them with a professional bartender’s confidence. The last picture was of you, pouting at the empty tart’s plate while Wolf smiled like a bastard and the last one to the camera.

You gasped, hitting him lightly in the chest. The utter betrayal!

“You jerk. Evil, evil jerk,” you said.

“C’mon, I only took one! The other twenty four were all you.”

“Hmm… fine. I guess it’s fair.” You said, but the pain of letting one single sweet sleep away lingered. “Are you putting those on the fridge?”

“Only the least comprasing ones. Don’t want police or news barging into my place and finding out dear governor over there passed out drunk in orange soda.” Wolf put the pictures in his coat pocket. “The others are going in the bedroom drawer.”

“Ah, blackmail material.” You smiled.

Wolf placed one hand over his chest and looked down at you with believable offense.

“Now, that wouldn't be very nice of me, would it?” He opened that grin that made your legs weak. Changed for the better or not, the ‘bastard grin’ always suited him. “If these things end up in a golden frame, and, by complete chance, annoy the living hell out of the guys, it will be a complete accident.”

Face buried in the fluff of his neck, you laughed amidst a hiccup.

“You’re so mean,” you said.

In this position, you could smell the subtle cologne on his fur, it was like a walk in a pine forest after rain mixed with rum. You felt it before, burned into your mind from the first time you met, a reminder from everytime you sat close to each other and he leaned in to whisper a witty remark about the current situation, or when he asked you to dance, held you close, and the pressure of his hands lingered on your waist after they left, as much as you wished they stayed longer. Pine grew to be one of your favorite smells. Before you knew it, your tights squeezed against each other.

 The softness brushed your cheek, an invitation to lay on it. Any other day, a sober day, you would've slapped yourself for the pathetic neediness. Wolf was your friend, even if he set your body ablaze with just a look, you would like to keep him as your dear friend. Any sober day you would pull away and ignore the heat forming in your core before it rose to your brain and deemed it useless, freeing you to make stupid decisions… Today was no sober day, and the mojitos in your bloodstream were highly flammable.

You caved and laid in fur silkier than expensive bed sheets, more comfortable than your own bed, even with his neck and shoulder tensed up. Your clenched hand on his chest felt his heartbeat stop for a second and come back faster than you could count. Wolf squeezed your arm, tail wagging against the sofa cushions with muffed thuds.

“You’re fluffy.” You snuggled further into him. “Smells good.”

“The wonders of conditioner.”

“Hmm…”

Both your hands ran over his chest grabbing the suit’s collar, pulling closer. You moved your leg across his shut together ones. His hands firmly held your waist in place, preventing you from sinking into his lap. 

“Moe…” You moaned.

Wolf dragged a sharp breath, stern gaze on you.

“You’re drunk.”

“So are you.”

“Okay, but you’re drunker.”

You rolled your eyes, snaking your hands to tangle around his neck.

“I’m not that out of it, Wolf.”

He glanced over your shoulder, skepticism plastered on his handsome face. You followed to find the chairs, little tables and sofas you stumbled on to get to him, one of the chairs knocked over all the way to the pool. Shame heated your cheeks.

“Listen - Listen!” You ignored his smug look and pulled his neck closer to you. “Even if I was sober, I would still want to bang you.”

Wolf looked as if someone poured ice down his neck, half lidded eyes growing to the size of dessert plates, his claws dug into your waist, making your back arch.

He said your name as a warning.

“You’re my buddy,” he said. “So for your own sake, I’m asking you to stop talking.”

“But it’s true!” You giggled at the utmost unholy scenarios forming in your head. “If we go back to my place right now we can fuck in the shower.”

“Oh, okay. You’re still talking.” He shut his eyes and threw his head back on the sofa.

“No, no, I can’t sleep with wet hair. Uh… the kitchen counter then-”

“Listen to me, hang over and regret don’t go well together!”

“Oh! You could pin me against the window and when people look up-”

You fell on your butt as his hands let go of your waist to cover your mouth. Wolf didn’t look at you, and only spoke after too many seconds of silence.

“I need another drink.”

He held your shoulders and laid you on your side, face smushed on the cushion, and went straight to the bar.

“Gimme one too,” you said, leaning on your elbow to have a better look at him.

“No,” He pulled a whisky glass from the counter, filling it up with a blue drink you didn’t recognize. “Pretty sure you wouldn’t remember anything after your sixth drink, this would just be extra migraine on you.” He downed his drink in one shot, wiping his mouth with the suit sleeve. “Come on, let’s get you home.” 

Wolf came back and pulled you up by the hand. Your knees gave in the moment weight was put on them, your legs useless wet noodles. He threw one of your arms over his shoulder and one hand supported your waist.

“Nooo,” you struggled out of his grasp, almost kissing the floor before he caught you. “Take Shark first!” You pointed at poor, unmoving Shark, face first in the pool and surrounded by empty push-pops with no sign of air bubbles on the water. “He’s gonna drown!”

A smile formed on the corners of his mouth. 

“I’m sure Shark will be fine. These two on the other hand…” He gestured with his head to the floor, where Diane and Piranha laid over orange soda. “Hope her insurance covers a massage plan.”

The walk was a blur until you two reached the elevator; Wolf now and again pulled your slipping body upwards, jolting you awake. Sleep crawled into you, made your eyes sting and fill with water the longer you kept them open. You yawned and tried to focus on anything to keep you awake until Wolf got your drunk ass to the apartament, but in a dark elevator, you could either look at a panel changing numbers or him. Obvious choice, these numbers could be Calvin Klein models and you still would look at him.

He frowned at the metal door, body slouched by your weight and visible tiredness. His mouth pulled downwards, the same it did when he struggled with a harsh decision during field work, his suit was wrinkled and the first button on his shirt popped off; perhaps you pulled a little too hard on it. Ruffled up fur marked where your hands had been. Messy, tired and worried. How was it fair that he looked beautiful even with all of that?

“Wolfie…” you said. When Wolf turned his head to look at you, you booped his snout. “Hehe. I love you.”

Your knees hit the carpet floor before Wolf managed to scramble to catch you, sharp pain on the already scraped one. Who’s idea was to invent rough carpets in a world where gravity exists? Sadistic monsters! You yelped when he pulled you back up by the forearm.

“Sorry, sorry!” He said.

Something fluffy repeatedly hit the back of your legs, his tail wagging violently. Wolf let go of your waist and grabbed the thing like he meant to choke it.

 “I’m sorry.”

Between the chokehold on his tail and panic on his face, for the first time tonight, you felt as if you’d done something wrong. Your conscience woke up to kick you in the shin and curse your idiocy. You just confessed to the man you loved drunk out of your senses in an elevator, while he had to carry your sluggish body home.

The shame was enough to slightly sober you up and fight the overwhelming sleepiness. You had to salvage this in any possible way.

“I mean it, Moe.” You said. “I love you.”

The last thing you heard was the elevator beep before sleep took over.

May death take you out of pity. Let your prayers be answered and God will open the ground to swallow you whole.

 You could deal with the nausea and crippling migraines, hell, you would double the pain if it meant a distraction from sheer embarrassment. Which one was worse? Saying a drunken ‘I love you’ in the elevator without a single hint that you liked him beforehand, or  shamelessly offer to have sex when the most physicall contact you ever had was a hug?

 I love you. The words haunted you.

 I love you. I love you.

 Diane would have to excuse your absence from work, you needed a week alone to sulk, living on type water and custard tarts deliveries. Not the fancy ones, no, the cheap, factory produced tards; you didn’t deserve homemade sweets after such humiliation.

Headache took the focus away from your self pity as someone knocked on the door. If it was a complaint about yesterday's loudness, the poor soul who disturbed your misery was in for a face off with the devil.

Another fucking knock.

“Coming.” You kicked off the blanket and used the couch as support to get on your feet.

You dragged yourself across the living room, not bothering properly opening your eyes and swinging the door open.

“What?” You said, ready to bite off a head.

“Someone’s in a good mood today.”

Your eyes shot open - you held the door handle to not lose your balance.

“Wolf.”

“Yes, last time I checked.”

He stood there with a bag with green bottles and some painkiller boxes in hand. Light blue buttoned up shirt and one hand on the navy pants pocket, trademark grin spread across a clean face. He looked way too well.

“Passing by to check on everyone. You should’ve seen Diane, her fur was all sticky from the soda.” He reached on the bag and handed you a bottle and pills. “I got you some green juice, the very nasty one; good for a hangover. And some strong painkillers.”

“Oh…” Your hand robotically grabbed them. Wolf was in front of you, the man you asked to bang, offering a green juice bottle. I love you. You shoved the memory away.  “... Thanks.”

Letting go of the handle, your feet stumbled backwards, head too heavy to stay in place. Wolf’s gentle hand steadied your back and the other held your elbow.

“Easy there.” He kicked the door shut and guided you to the couch, taking the green juice and handling it uncapped with a painkiller pill. “Here, if you drink it fast it doesn’t taste as bad.”

You stared at Wolf, at the bottle, and back at him, mouth agape as if words wanted to come out. His casual smile twisted your stomach. How could he look so normal after everything you said? After what you’ve done? 

I love you.

Wolf sighed.

“Okay, that was a lie, it tastes awful anyways.”

Your chest tightened. Him not remembering  last night was impossible, being much more sober than you. Yet he acted as any other casual sunday; pretending nothing happened. You couldn’t look away, trying to see if his face gave away deeper feelings; a different twinkle in his eye, an ear twitch, anything that differentiated this Wolf from the Wolf you didn’t offer yourself to. 

His smile dropped.

“I can get you water and a salad if the juice is too disgusting,” he said.

You let out an incredulous laugh, steering your eyes away from him. Nothing. Nothing at all. Maybe he was pretending to not embarrass you to death, maybe he hoped you forgot all about it as he said you would.

Before the knot on your throat tightened, you snatched the pill and green juice, drinking more than half of it in one go, plastic bottle cracking with your grip. You pressed it to your forehead, eyes squeezed shut, and curled into yourself. You should be grateful, he got you home and pulled a blanket over you; He came to check on your pathetic state, brought medicine and healthy drinks; He did the favor of embarrassing you. Wolf did nothing but be a good friend, you were being such a baby. You should be grateful, and say thank you like a polite adult.

Say thank you, just open your mouth and thank him. Say thank you. 

I love you.

Shit, you fucked up.

Wolf’s hand touched your shoulder and you jumped. He looked at you with worry. You opened your mouth but not a beep came out. With an apologetic smile you left the couch and made your way to the kitchen sink, opening it and splashing cold water on your hot face. This was easier when alcohol blocked your basic self preservation. For so long you kept your feelings to yourself, ignored the want to hold his hand, kiss him. Keep to yourself the praises that didn’t relate to his genius planning abilities; like how beautiful he looked in a particular well-fitting disguise; how you melted when he held Mr. Cat like a precious baby, and how talking to him lightened up your day after it started with stubbing your pinky on the bedside table and a coffee stain on your outfit. All the things you lacked the guts to say and do, spilled out in one night in the worst possible way. You had to do better than this. Put on your big girl pants, face your feelings. Wolf was there, he was right there staring at you from your couch. Drunk you couldn't be braver than sober you.

You clenched the sink’s edge and took a deep breath as if it could fill you with courage instead of air.

“I meant what I said last night, Moe,” you said. “And I don’t want to pretend it didn’t happen. So don’t… don’t pretend it didn’t.”

Water drops falling from your face into the metal of the sink never echoed so loud, other than that, your heart beating on your ears was the only sound in the apartament. Your guts twisted.

“Please say something.” you said.

“You were very drunk.” Wolf finally spoke. “I… tried not to think much about it. I didn’t know if you would even remember last night, much less that you really meant any of that.”

“I did.”

You turned on the sink to face him, Wolf leaned on the back of your couch in a similar position to yours, holding onto to it, one leg crossed over the other, his bashful face made you much more relieved.

“It was one of those ‘alcohol in, truth out’ situations,” you said.

Wolf pushed himself from the couch, walking towards you, each step made your heart beat faster. You fought the heat rising to your face when he looked down to you, hot air from him warming the curve of your nose.

“How long have you…” He slid a hand down his neck. “... You know.”

“Almost two years by now.”

His ears perked up, small grim on his agape mouth.

“Two years?”

“Almost two years.”

Wolf squinted, one of his years flipped down.

“I was in jail at that time.”

“Yeah, and I missed you.” You looked down, your hands tugging your shirt suddenly very interesting. “Way more than a friend misses a friend.” 

Although you missed all of your friends in the year they’re locked up, after a phone call, the heartache subsided; you heard their voices, reassured they’d be fine, knowing you’d get to see them soon. With Wolf, all that phone calls did was remind you he wasn’t there. Simple things you paid no mind to turned melancholic; Bitter coffee without a ‘good morning’ and raised a mug while he read the journal, fishing articles about The Bad Guys to share with the crew. Going for a walk around pine trees tightened your throat, because the smell was so much like his; You only realized how affectionate he was by going touch starved for an entire year. A muffled voice over jail’s shitty phone wasn't enough.

“The day you’re released, Diane asked if I wanted to get you guys home,” you said. “But I still needed time to figure this out. And when I did I couldn’t look you in the eye without wanting to bury my head on the sidewalk.”

“Wait a second,” Wolf said, way too amused. “Is that why we didn’t see you for a month? You said your grandma needed support because her dog died.”

“I know, I lied!” You buried your face in your hands. “I’m a terrible person, my grandma doesn’t even have a dog.” You dragged your hands through your face and looked up at Wolf. “You’re not supposed to find out like this, I’m sorry, Wolf.”

“Hey, it’s fine. Don’t beat yourself over it.”

“I confessed to you in an elevator while you literally dragged my drunk butt.”

He smiled.

“It wasn’t the most embarrassing thing you did last night.”

“Oh, god.” You shrunken on yourself, hiding your face. Sadly, it didn’t make you disappear. “Kill me, have mercy and kill me right now.” You shrunk even more when Wolf laughed.

As you repeated your death wish prayers, Wolf’s hands took yours, peeling them off your face, not a glimpse of mockery on his eyes, but a look you only ever imagined he would give you.

“Did you mean to do that as well?” His big hand ghosted over your check. “It’s fine if you didn’t, I just wanna know.”

Your bones all melted, lucky you’re getting quite good at standing on weak knees. He was so close, his scent invading  your senses and messing with your brain. Body pulling into his, you hold on the sink tightened so much  you thought it was going to crack. Stupid as your actions were, the drinks did nothing but feed the already existing flame. You wanted him, craved the intentional touch that came from a place of passion instead of friendship.

You leaned into the hand on your cheek.

“Yeah,” you said.

Wolf’s cold nose brushed against the overheated skin on your face.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Letting go of the sink, you placed your hands on his chest. “I did.”

Inches apart, you closed your eyes and tilted your head.

Sparks flew when his lips touched yours. So very sweet and gentle, Wolf pulled your face closer, claws tangling with your bird’s nest of a hair. You ran your hands up the velvety shirt, his accelerated pulse not going unnoticed when you reached his ruffled neck. Your checks began to hurt and you realized you’ve been smiling through the kiss.

You panted when he let go of you; not for lack of air, but a worthless attempt from your body to cool itself down. Gushes of air couldn’t put down the blaze within you. You kissed. You kissed the man you’ve been in love with for too long, and it felt better than you could ever imagine because it was real and you didn’t sink in guilt once the pining fantasy was over. You kissed, and by the blissful way he looked at you and how his tail cut the air with the wagging, you’re safe to assume he felt the same.

“Now that the mojitos are out of the picture,” Wolf said. “How much of last night do you still mean right now?”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pink fog blurred your surroundings and your body grew too hot for your clothes. 

“All of it,” you whispered against his lips.

Wolf gripped your waist and pulled you up on the kitchen counter, legs spread to accommodate him between them, sealing his mouth to yours again. When his tongue brushed against your lips, you parteted them with pleasure; his to explore as he wished, and good grace, he did. Slow and deep, fervor followed from your tongue to your sex. Wolf squeezed your waist and you gripped the back of his shirt, back arched as well as every hair on your body.

He let go of your mouth, hot breath now on your neck, whoever, no pressure from his teeth. He stared, conflicted, you assumed by his knitted eyebrows. With a maw filled with piercing teeth, you understood why, and should be at least a little scared, yet no fear crept to you. How could it when he made you feel so secure?

 You exposed your neck to him and caressed his back. A contempt sigh brushed your skin, followed by a velvet tongue and a soft nibble.

“Moe…” you moaned, legs locked around his waist.

He hummed against you and pulled your hips closer, your body whimpered when Wolf grinded against you. You held to him as if your life depended on it, rational brain melted into aphrodisiac mush as one single thought remained: Fuck me.

“Fuck…” You squeezed him between your legs.

“That’s the idea,” His hand slid up your shirt.

And that’s when you remembered. You’re on the kitchen counter.

“Wait, wait-” you said. His hand froze in place and you catched half lidded eyes growing three times in size. “My bedroom.”

Any pity you might have felt for scaring the hornyness out of him fell in its face when he gave you the bastard grin.

“Ah,” Wolf tapped the corner of his mouth. “You know, I recall someone saying I could do her anywhere.”

Ice water poured over the fire in your loins.

“Oh no.” You groaned into your hands.

“In the shower, the kitchen counter-”

“Stop Talking.”

“Even against the window. That was a surprising one.”

“Shut up, shut up! It wasn’t me talking, it was the mojitos.”

“Allow me to paraphrase then.” Wolf took your hands off his face, and you never wanted to smack him more than now. “It was one of those ‘alcohol in, truth out situations’.”

If you weren’t head over hills for the asshole, you'd put back your hills to kick him out in a literal, painful sense. Since that wasn’t a viable option, you put on your best displeased face and stare him dead in the eye.

“Keep talking and I will blue ball you.”

His smile dropped.

“So is your bedroom the door to the left?”

Wolf had his hand on the small of your back, soft kisses on your shoulders and neck during the short hallway walk kept your insides fuzzy. You opened the door to the white bedroom, noon sun filtered by the semi sheer curtains in your favorite color, matching the still tidy queen sized bed sheets. Presentable enough, even if Wolf knew how much of a mess you could make, a wrinkled bed and clothes scattered on the floor didn’t set the best romantic mood. 

You sat on your bed with a bounce, hands stretched for Wolf. He sunk into you, deep kiss and fingers on your hair, he laid you on the pillows, pulling one strand out of your face.

“Aren’t you pretty?” he said, gazing at your mascara stained face and possibly blood shot eyes.

“You’re one to talk.” 

Wolf quirked his head.

“Am I now?” he said, amused.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know how hot you are.”

“Can you believe that I don’t? Mind telling me?” You rolled your eyes with a chuckle. Oh the dangers of stroking this man’s inflated ego. You supported yourself on your elbows and cleaned your throat, one dramatic hand over your chest.

“Mr. Wolf, you’re painfully handsome, hotter than the sun, and I could stare at you for longer than any pretentious art piece.” You smiled, proud of your little act. “Happy?”

You expected a chuckle, a playfully annoyed look, but your heart fluttered with the genuine delight in his face. Oh, he liked that. Good to know.

Wolf shook his head, snapping out of the awestruck look.

“Yeah, that was…” he said. “Good enough description, nice delivery. Gonna take it.”

Your hands held each side of his face, thumb stroking it gently. How could he look more bashful now then when you flirted with him? 

“You are really handsome, you know.”

He leaned in your palms, snuggling in them, you were sure he was going to melt in your hands. 

“My pretty girl.” He kissed your wrist.

‘My’, your head became light. ‘My’, he said.

He kissed you with fervor, hand roaming from your lower leg to your tight, and up the naked skin under your shirt, tickling your stomach. He slowed down at the curve of your waist, the oh so light claws against it sending goosebumps up and down your torso, shirt lifted along the way. Waltzing to your back, he did  quick work unclasping your bra, tension leaving your shoulders and overnight restrained breasts. You lifted your arms as he took off your shirt and bra together and tossed them away. You held your breath as he stared at your chest; shameless, Wolf gave your right breast a soft squeeze. You gasped, face much ablaze in a mixture of excitement and embarrassment. Your heartbeat shook you from head to toe, and Wolf’s hand on your chest might just feel it; hell he might just hear it, so dramatically loud.

He lowered his muzzle to the top of your head to place a kiss, his covered chest in reachable distance, the pretty fancy shirt blocked the view. You opened the buttons and ran your hand through the light cream fur, never getting tired of how silky he was. Wolf’s shirt soon joined yours in a forgotten corner, you now free to devour him with your eyes, taking in the curves from his lean muscles and hints of ochre mixed with the warm gray of his fur. Where your hands had been left ruffled up marks; you itched to do so in all visible places, ruffle every little hair, front and back, a reminder of where he let you touch him.

He squeezed your breasts, thumbs rolling over your nipples;  you pulled his chest fur, a breathy moan on the back of your throat escaping when his wet tongue touched the sensitive bud, circling around it before taking into his mouth. 

“Oh, fuck…” You squeezed his shoulders, grip tightened when Wolf hummed around you.

His hand massaged and sparsely pinched your other breast. Uneven breath, you tried to control yourself, nails digging a little too hard on his shoulder - You didn’t want to claw him, not when he’d been so careful with you, but oh, how hard it was to control your squirming body, needy for more and unable to steady itself. 

Wolf let go of your breasts. You contained a pitiful whine and he chuckled at your pout.

“Like that, sweetheart?” 

Your heart leaped. ‘Sweetheart’.

“Yeah, you did so well ” you praised, receiving a similar delighted look on his face. “Felt really good.”

Fur on his cheeks ruffled up, he tugged at your pants waistband, sliding it down your hip bone.

“Gonna make you feel even better, pretty girl.”

Your hips jolted up, hot antecipation between your legs, where you wanted him in so bad, so, so ready to be fucked out of your mind. 

“Please do.”

Your pants out of the way, he traced kisses from your jaw down to your stomach; cherishing the sensation, you eagerly waited for the sound of an unbuckling belt, arousal so intense it started to turn painful. But Wolf kept kissing down, lower, lower, his lips brushing the inner of your tights. You yelped when he muzzled your clothed clit, hot air against your soaked panties. You would wind up crazy by the end of this.

“Moe, please,” you breathed out, hips bucking forward. “Please, touch me.”

“No need to ask, sweetheart.” His claws slid down your panties - you couldn't get rid of them fast enough.

You caught his mouth watering, looking at you as if your smell made him drunk.

Wolf’s tongue dragging a line along your heat, savoring your taste with licks and wet kisses. You choked into your moan, gripping his head and pulling as if his mouth could get any closer. You clenched around nothing, excruciating in your own greedy pleasure, because there was no way in the world he could put his fingers inside of you. Oh, but you’re wrong. As if he read your mind, Wolf pushed his tongue inside you, ripping a pornographic moan from your throat, as he rubbed your clit up and down. if he kept on like that, the knocks growing  tighter on your belly would come undone in his mouth. The image melted you like lava.

Still, you wanted more. It would be so easy to let yourself go, turn into a quivering mess and let him pleasure you for as long as your body would take - which wasn’t for much longer, regardless. But you craved something different; not a skilled mouth and divine fingers - him. So deep inside you, making you forget where your body ended and his started. You wanted to feel Wolf entirely, and for him to feel you as well. Him - you needed him.

Gentle and firm, you pulled his head away, maw glistened with your sinful fluids.

“You’re okay?” he said, worry in his eyes.

“Fuck me.” You sounded desperate to your own ears. His claws sunk in your tights. “I want you, Moe, I want you so bad, fuck me.”

He stared at you in awe, letting out a shaky breath. Something shifted in the air, even if for a brief moment, before Wolf got himself out of trance, you swore he stared at you like a starved predator. He stood on his knees, unbuckled belt revealing a clear voluptuous outline on his black underwear.

“No little hearts this time?” You raised a brow with a smile.

He laughed, a deeper sound than usual.

“Ditched those a while ago.”

His bothersome underwear out of the way, a red, generous erection greeted you, glistering raw shade and leaking pre cum made your mouth water and rub your tights. Wolf crowned on top of you, holding one side of your waist, light kisses scattered over your face and neck. You scratched behind his left ear, earning a contempt sigh he leaned in your hand. Hot and adorable, he felt too good to be real, as if at any moment you’d wake up with a crippling headache on the floor. Yet it was reality, yours to touch, and shamelessly feel, and it was so good; He had been so good to you, got you shivering in lust, bubbling with joy, he was such a-

Amid sweet touches, a light switched on in your head.

“Good boy,” you cooed.

Wolf went stiff. Claws tore the bed sheets - sinking in the mattress. The familiar wag of his tail brushed your lower legs.

“Fuck,” he whimpered, face hidden in your neck.

“You like that, Wolfie?” 

He nodded with a whine. A once feared wanted criminal, feared by many due to his sheer size and sharpness, heist mastermind, completely melted with praises; and yet it made so much sense, of course he would like it. You would call him adorable to his face if not for it taking a blow to his ego; Maybe another time. 

“My good boy.” You cupped his flushed face out of hiding and rubbed his cheeks. “You’re doing so well, taking such good care of me.”

His hips rolled against you with a choked groan, spams running through you like lighting.

“Look what you do to me, sweetheart.”

“Should do it more often.”

“Oh, I agree.” He repeated the motion. “Wouldn't mind squeezing it on my daily schedule.”

Your heavy eyelids shot open.

“Daily?”

“Why not?”

“Because I like walking!”

“Awn.” Wolf placed one hand over his chest. “You flatter me.”

You playfully slapped his arm, giggling together, one relaxed moment before boiling anticipation.

Wold align himself with your warmth, the simple pressure made you whimper; legs wrapping around his waist.

“Ready?”he said.

“Yes.”

 Careful and slow, he pushed in. Your wet core accommodated each inch with relative ease - blazing ache replaced by relief, the sparks from your previous edged orgasm making your toes curl and head lean back. 

“Fuck… you’re good?” Wolf panted, whole of length buried inside you.

Oh, just ‘good’ wasn’t enough, you’re fucking wonderful, fantastic, filled to the abslute brim in a way that fogged your mind.Wolf hissed when you clenched around him.

“Yeah, I’m good.” You held onto his back and pulled him for a messy kiss. “Move for me?” you said, voice covered in honey.

A handful of your tight and the other leaned on the mattress, Wolf slid himself out and sunk back in, making you see stars. Your needy sounds filling the room with each thrust on a steady pace- he reached deep inside you, fucked your sanity away so good that you didn’t miss the ability to think for a second. He squeezed the plump of your ass; sucked and nibbled wherever his mouth would reach. Pine forest cologne mixed the smell of sex in the hot bedroom.

“Fuck, Moe- that’s it. Don’t stop… Fuck …  just like this” you mewled, tension building on your muscles. “Good boy, good boy-”

His pace turned wild the moment praise left your lips. You cried in pleasure, nails digging on his back.

“Shit, sweetheart… Not going to last like this.”

Oh, yes, yes yes! Fuck, yes. You’re so cock drunk you didn’t want anything more than for him to make a mess inside of you.

His hand found your clit, circling sloppy rubs; you all but screamed, clawing his back.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! Good boy, good boy- Fuck!”

Your legs squeezed and pulled him close enough to immobilize his hips, making him grind inside you. Wolf pulled one of your hands tearing at his back, tangling your fingers together, a couple more seconds of him buried inside you and more rubs on your overstimulated clit for you to roll back your eyes and come undone. It didn't take long for Wolf to follow suit, shallow grinds through your intense orgasm before thrusting deep. He reached his high with a reverberating  growl.

Through your blissed out state you tried to catch your breath, muscles shivering, Wolf’s hand clenching and unclenching yours.

Coherent thought began its way back to you, pants becoming steady breaths, legs sliding down and hands stuck in a claw position, off Wolf’s mistreated back. He winced.

“Sorry…” You said.

“It’s fine.”

With a tired smile, he pulled out of you, Softly nuzzling your cheek and kissing on the bridge of your nose. You reciprocated with a peck on his muzzle, embracing him and his warmth that covered you better than a fluffy blanket. He laid by your side and you snuggled in his chest, ear on his heartbeat. Wolf’s hands steadied your fluttery state, rubbing circles on your lower back. 

“You’re okay?” He said.

“Uhum, I’m great. Actually…” You played with his chest fur. “I might add this to my daily schedule.”

“That good, huh?”

You felt his ego inflate and take up the whole room.

“As expected from such a good boy.”

Said ego blew back on his face. He winched. 

“Yeah, about that. Let’s keep it between us, alright?”

“Relax, Moe. I won’t embarrass you in front of the others.”

He sighed.

“Thank you.”

“... Good boy.”

Wolf hissed, head buried in your hair. You failed holding back chuckles.

“Sorry, sorry.” You said, kissing his chest. “I’m sorry, I’ll stop.”

Moe snuggled his chin over your head. You closed your eyes and caved to the comfort that was him and your bed, sun warming your naked body through the curtains, outside world muted. Diane could call and say somebody stole the moon, you still would not leave this little piece of heaven. 

Your hungry stomach, however, was not Diane, and took now out of all times to complain that it only had a green juice today. 

You sat up, away Wolf’s grasp, feeling like a monster when he looked at you like a lost and kicked puppy.

“Don’t give that look.” Your shoulder blades popped with a nice stretch. “I’m just hungry.”

“Oh?” He immediately sifted to his trademark smile and sat up as well. “Let’s go out then.”

Go out? You’re planning on eating leftovers and staying in bed with him all day! Maybe gatter the willpower to clean yourself, but that was a big maybe.

“What? Right now? Moe, I’m sweaty and-” You held back before saying ‘sticky’ “- a mess.”

“Come on, we can get brunch at that bistro you like, my treat.” He put in his pants and searched for the lost shirt.

Now that he mentioned, that place had your favorite dish.

“Can we get custard tarts?”

“All the custard tarts you can eat, sweetheart.” He buttoned up his shirt, waiting for your answer.

Well, it was a better option than getting who-knows-what collecting frost in your fridge, and a shower sounded nice.

“Give me fifteen minutes.”

“It’s a date,” Wolf said, kissing your heated check. “I’ll get the wallet and wait in the car.” He opened the door, but raised his finger before walking out. “I almost forgot.” He turned on his heel and winked at you. “Love you too, pretty girl.”

Wolf left you alone. Five minutes already gone by when you stepped in the shower, because that’s how long it took you to stop gushing like a teenager.

#mr wolf x reader #the bad guys 2022 #the bad guys #the bad guys x reader #mr wolf #mr. wolf #moe wolf #mr wolf x you

[manicplank]

A little stray thought i had.. How would they react to passing by/seeing a really fancy, elegant person in the wild/outdoors? :0

How would they react to a fancy person?

Peppino: He'd look and be incredibly jealous. He'd imagine himself in their shoes, dressed in a fancy tux with a top hat.

Gustavo: He'd stare in admiration. He'd wonder what it would be like to be wealthy like them, but he'd also realize that he's happy with his little life.

Mr. Stick: He'd probably go over to them and insist that they need a manager or a financial advisor. He'd confide in them that he's the man to trust (he's not).

Pepperman: Huzzah! What a sight for him to see is a person as elegant as he sees himself. He'd probably walk over and spark up a conversation only to be turned down.

The Vigilante: He wouldn't really care. He pretty much minds his own business. Although, he does think their outfit looks mighty fine.

The Noise: He IS that elegant, fancy person walking down the street (sometimes). He is famous, after all. He was probably coming home from a celebrity event or a date with Noisette, as he's dressed in a nice yellow pinstripe suit and red tie.

Noisette: She's also the elegant, fancy person in a beautiful pink bodycon dress accessorized with a beautiful boa, a pearl necklace, and white heels. She flaunts her stuff, she likes dressing and acting all fancy (knowing damn well she and him are gonna go home and play like children).

Fake Peppino: Ooo, fancy person! The shine of their jewelry catches his eye and causes him to stare. Although, seeing a creature like him is pretty unnerving to the person... He watches them from afar like they're a fascinating bird, careful not to scare them away.

Pizzahead: Totally NOT jealous. Mhm, totally NOT AT ALL jealous. Who do they think they are?! He might just go home and put on his favorite blue suit with high waisted pants just to show them who's boss. Or... Maybe he'll just sit there and give them the stink eye. Yeah, that second one sounds easier to him.

Pillar John: He would take a glance at them and admire their appearance. He'd call out to them and compliment them. He wishes he could pull off a luxurious look like that.

Gerome: Doesn't care. Doesn't even notice them. To him, their just another regular person walking down the road. He minds his business and carries on his way.

#pizza tower #noise #the noise #headcanon #noisette #pizzahead #peppino #peppino spaghetti #fake peppino #pepperman #the vigilante #mr. stick #pillar john #pizza tower gerome #pizza tower gustavo

[cha-melodius]

This is very exciting I can’t wait to read what you come up with.

For me?

Firstprince. A corner office.

(HELLO LOVELY thank you for this prompt, and I hope you enjoy the finished product. 💕)

chamel’s fandom fest info | read all the fics

Step Into My Office, Baby

(firstprince, 2.4k, E; read it below or on AO3)

Henry is staring out the window at the southern end of Central Park when he hears a very familiar cadence of footsteps entering the office behind him. A moment later, Alex gives a low whistle.

“Look at you, Mr Fancy Pants with the corner office,” he says, his voice low and teasing and shot through with fondness.

Henry still winces slightly. “I did try to turn it down.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re an idiot,” Alex says. He’s leaning up against the door frame, his legs crossed at the ankle and arms folded in front of his chest. It’s late in the day, and he’s shed his jacket and rolled his shirt sleeves to the elbow, revealing muscular forearms that Henry can’t keep his gaze from lingering on. When he manages to force his eyes up, Alex is smirking at him. “You earned it, H. Fair and square.”

If anyone had told Henry two years ago that this moment would happen, he would have laughed in their face. To say he and Alex did not get along at first would be putting it mildly. Or rather, Alex resented Henry and everything he embodied, and Henry saw the benefit of keeping Alex at a distance even as they were forced to share an office. Then, getting accidentally locked in the building overnight together yielded a tentative truce, and a fast friendship had bloomed in its wake. It’s been lovely and also dreadful, because now Henry is constantly forced to weather his warm smiles and his teasing smirks and his bloody forearms.

The owner of which is currently flopping bodily onto Henry’s new couch and wiggling his hips in a completely obscene manner as he gets comfortable.

“Don’t worry, I’m gonna fucking live in here,” Alex tells him as he stretches his arms up and tucks his hands behind his head.

Yes, nothing to worry about at all.

~~~~~

The corner office comes with promotion and a whole heap of new responsibilities, and Henry quite quickly finds himself drowning in work beyond the long hours he’s used to spending with Alex at the office. He’s in the middle of a particularly terrible stretch at the moment, the looming deadline somehow simultaneously the light at the end of the tunnel and the headlamp of an oncoming train. Alex has been in the thick of it too, working late nights beside him, though that apparently doesn’t include tonight.

Henry loves him—truly, to his endless misery—but he needs to work, not listen to Alex chattering aimlessly while he sits on Henry’s couch tossing M&Ms into the air and catching them in his mouth.

“I was thinking about Thai,” he says, as if it isn’t gone one in the morning. “D’you think Noodies is still open?”

“No,” Henry huffs. They’ve been closed for three hours, and Alex knows this. “Why are you still here, anyway?” he snaps without meaning to, immediately regretting it when Alex’s face falls.

“Well, I was keeping you company and making sure you don’t collapse into an endless spiral of work like a fucking black hole, but I guess Mr Corner Office is too important to need anyone’s help,” Alex sneers, pushing himself angrily to his feet.

Christ, they haven’t spoken to each other like this since that horrible first year, and even more than the work, that’s what finally breaks Henry. Alex is halfway to the door by the time Henry catches him by the elbow, and he jerks out of Henry’s grasp immediately. Thankfully, he does stop, though the glare he levels at Henry does a poor job at masking the hurt written on his face.

“Alex, wait,” Henry pleads. He lets out a heavy sigh, dragging a hand over his face. Christ, he’s too bloody exhausted for this. “I’m sorry. It’s just this project is driving me batty. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

“Well,” Alex says, fidgeting as he frowns down at the ground. “You’re right, you shouldn’t have.” He sighs as he looks up again. “But I get it. They’re putting too much on you.”

Henry reaches out and puts a tentative hand on his elbow again; this time, he’s not shrugged off. “Can you forgive the stuck up prick in the corner office who takes everyone else for granted?”

“That guy?” Alex snorts. “No. But you’re not that guy, H.”

“I feel like him sometimes.”

“C’mere,” Alex mumbles, and the next thing Henry knows he’s being tugged into a tight hug.

It’s not the first time they’ve hugged, but it’s the first time it’s been so fierce, and it feels like it fundamentally shifts something inside Henry. Alex winds his fingers into Henry’s collar and buries his face in his neck, and it’s all Henry can do to hang on like he’s clinging to a life preserver in a storm.

Except somehow, Alex is both the life preserver and the storm.

~~~~~

When the project finally wraps up, it’s a big deal, and the whole office celebrates accordingly.

“Work hard, play hard,” Alex sing-songs with a wink as he fills Henry’s champagne flute again.

He’s been ricocheting around the room, putting that patented Claremont-Diaz charm to good use. There’s almost certainly a promotion with his name on it after all of this, so he has more than enough reason to celebrate. He’s already been teasing Henry about stealing his office. Henry feels jubilant, effervescent like the bubbles bursting in his glass, and he forgets to be self-conscious about the way he watches Alex. Forgets to school his expression. Forgets not to smile too broadly when Alex hooks an arm around his neck and hangs off him like a monkey.

“Hey, hey, c’mere,” Alex says all at once, tugging him toward the door of the massive conference room that’s serving as the party hub.

“You quite literally just poured me a new drink,” Henry points out.

“So bring it with you. C’mon,” he almost whines, which should not be as endearing as it is. He’s unleashing his most devastating giant brown puppy dog eyes. Henry never stood a chance.

“Where are we going?”

“I just need a breather,” Alex sighs heavily. He drags Henry down the office corridors at nearly a jog, until the sounds of chatter and clinking glasses fade away, all the way to the open door of Henry’s office. At Henry’s cocked eyebrow, he laughs. “Best view in the building.”

He doesn’t walk over to the bank of windows, though. Once Henry’s inside the door, he pushes it shut, sealing them off from the rest of the office. Then he returns to Henry’s side and plucks the champagne flute from his hand. He downs half of it in one go, laughs at Henry’s affronted “hey!” as he deposits the glass on the desk, and grabs the fronts of Henry’s jacket before he starts walking backward across the office. Henry can’t help but laugh helplessly at Alex’s chaotic manhandling, at least until Alex stumbles into the couch and he’s dragged down by Alex’s dead weight dropping out from under him. They land in a giggling heap, and Christ, he’s in Alex’s lap, but when he tries to disentangle himself, he feels Alex’s grip go tight at his hip. An arm slides around his waist, loose enough not to be demanding, but firm enough to prevent him from moving away.

Oh.

Startled, he looks down at Alex, whose cheeks are flushed a dusty rose from the champagne and the exertion, who’s breathing heavily through pink lips temptingly parted as he stares back up with his bottomless dark eyes. He isn’t laughing anymore.

“I like this office,” Alex murmurs. “Something about it settles me. When I’m here.” His grip shifts on Henry’s hip, fingers tightening. “With you.”

“Alex,” Henry whispers, barely daring to breathe.

One corner of Alex’s mouth twitches. “Maybe it’s not the office.”

It’s impossible to tell which of them moves first to close the narrow gap between them, lips meeting in a fierce, hungry press that quickly deepens. Alex nearly bites at his lips, dragging his teeth along their inner edges, and it shouldn’t work for him but fuck, it really does. Henry finds himself pressing closer, revelling in the way that Alex’s arms tighten to bring their bodies together as he sinks his fingers into Alex’s curls. 

“Christ, I never thought you’d want—” Henry starts, though he doesn’t manage to finish that train or thought before he’s diving in to kiss the corner of Alex’s jaw.

“Yeah,” Alex breathes as he tips his head back to give him better access, “me neither.”

“What?” Henry asks, huffing a soft laugh against his skin.

“I mean, does anyone expect to fall in love with their work nemesis?”

That makes Henry pull back and stare down at him in shock. “You’re—”

“In love with you?” Alex finishes. There’s an impossibly soft look on his face, but it’s undercut by a flicker of nervousness. “Yeah, baby. Head over fucking heels.”

Henry feels himself tremble at baby, which is an entirely novel experience, though perhaps not unexpected given how his usual reaction when Alex teasingly calls him sweetheart. He’s so fucking overwhelmed that the only thing he can manage to do is lean in and kiss Alex again, slow and tender and full of all the words and emotions threatening to choke him. He presses his forehead to Alex’s when they part, and for a moment they just breathe together—unconsciously, perfectly, in sync. It’s everything he never let himself imagine, all those late nights together, all those meetings and emails and coffees delivered with sunny smiles that he refused to read into. Alex is warm and solid under him now, grabbing his waist as they kiss and kiss and it becomes heated again, until he’s rocking his hips up eagerly to meet Henry’s in a way that is rapidly going to become a problem.

Especially since Alex seems to find it not a problem at all.

“Wait, Alex, we can’t—” Henry tries, biting down on a groan when Alex palms over his hardening cock before making quick work of his belt and the fastening of his trousers, “—the windows.”

As if that’s the most troubling thing about them having sex in Henry’s office while half the company is just down the hall.

“We’re on the fiftieth floor, baby, no one’s gonna see,” Alex says, undeterred, grinning wickedly as he slips a hand into Henry’s boxers.

Right, then, that’s… good enough, actually. Henry’s been waiting for this for two and a half bloody years and he’s not really inclined to wait any longer. He kisses the smile off Alex’s face as he sets to work on the buttons of Alex’s shirt, rapidly pulling them open so he can get his hands on more of Alex’s skin. And Christ, he’d known Alex was fit—it’s hard not to know, with how ridiculously tightly cut he wears his suits—but it’s another thing altogether to drag his palms over the swell of his pecs and the hard lines of his stomach. Alex bites down hard on his lower lip when Henry tweaks one of his nipples, then retaliates by twisting his palm with just the right amount of pressure over the head of Henry’s cock. Henry moans as his hips buck up into Alex’s grip, chasing the friction that borders on just this side of too much.

“What do you want, baby?” Alex murmurs against his lips, and ‘everything’ feels like too big a concept in the moment, so Henry chokes out, “Just this, just you—” and lets himself get lost in the feeling of Alex’s hands on his skin. He’s so unbelievably worked up that it’s not long before the tension building in his groin is reaching a breaking point, but it’s looking down that finally does him in—watching the head of his cock appear and disappear within the tight circle of Alex’s long fingers, brown skin against dark pink. He tumbles over the edge with a choked off laugh, clinging desperately to Alex as he works him through it, until he’s hissing at the point of oversensitivity.

For a moment he just breathes, his face buried in Alex’s shoulder, mindful of Alex shifting slightly beneath him even if he’s trying not to be obvious about it.

“Not trying to harsh your afterglow here, but d’ya think you could move so I could get a tissue or something?” Alex asks eventually.

“I’ve got a better idea,” Henry rasps, dropping his hands to the fastenings of Alex’s trousers. He shifts back to get a better angle and tugs Alex’s boxers down enough to release his cock, long and rock hard and leaking at the tip, then takes Alex’s hand covered in his come and wraps it around his shaft with his own, weaving their fingers together.

“Oh,” Alex gasps, his hips immediately rocking up into their combined grip, Henry’s come slicking the way and filling the silence of the office with some of the most obscene sounds Henry’s ever heard.

He lets Alex set the pace, which starts out as a slow drag and rapidly picks up tempo, until Alex is quivering under him and swearing in at least two languages. Alex tips his head back against the couch, and Henry can’t resist ducking down to scrape his teeth along the long column of muscle so temptingly laid bare before him. The movement seems to make every muscle in Alex’s body tense up, and then he’s coming with a “Fuck, baby,” that has Henry groaning along with him. 

They clean up quietly, trading soft kisses that they occasionally get lost in, setting each other to rights enough so that they can— well, perhaps not return to the party, but at least leave the building. Henry doubts that their absence has been noticed, anyway.

“Jesus, I’ve been wanting to do that since you got this office,” Alex groans once they’re done, pushing a hand through curls as he stretches slightly where he sits on the couch. 

“What, that specifically?” Henry asks, furrowing his brow at him.

“I mean, more or less,” Alex admits. One side of his mouth tugs upward into a smirk. “To be fair I think I’ve imagined every possible way of taking you apart on this couch.”

“Christ, Alex.”

Alex grins broadly and shifts over to press his lips to the corner of Henry’s mouth. “You wanna hear the list?”

“You’re an incorrigible delinquent,” Henry protests, letting himself be drawn into another kiss. Then he leans in, lips brushing the shell of Alex’s ear, and whispers, “Tell me at home.”

#rwrb #red white and royal blue #firstprince #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #rwrb fic #rwrb fanfic #firstprince fic #firstprince fanfic #chamel's fandom fest #my fic

[gabessquishytum]

I now realize Dreamling has been all over the sugar daddy/baby spectrum

1389 & 1489: oh that fancy Lord is trying to get himself a bit of rough

1589: look at how hard Sir Gadlen is trying to impress that sweet boy. If Mr High-and-Mighty doesn't want him he's free to send Sir Gadlen my way. What's that? Mr All-black was Sir Gadlen's patron back in the day? My word. Sir Gadlen must have been very pretty back in the day. Oh look, he's swanning off with Skinny Shaxbeard. Think Sir Gadlen's in the market for a replacement?

1689: seriously? That smelly pauper? Methinks that toff has gone round the twist.

1789: is all-black the new fad for mollies now? Look at the khol and rouged lips on that one!

1889 & 2022: I'm pretty sure they'll be perceived as equals. Unless someone decides to play sugar baby :3

This is so true!! The power dynamics are super interesting through the centuries. Particularly if you think about how other people perceive Hob and Dream. Up until the more recent meetings there was a clear discrepancy between them in status (usually Dream comes across far more high status except in 1589). It's not until 1789/1889 when they appear more on an equal footing, which is also when Hob seems to grow more comfortable around Dream/take more risks.

The power really lies in Dream’s ability to choose his appearance, what kind of status he presents, while Hob has to show up as he is. Whatever attitude he projects, Dream shows that he's very much invested in the game of meeting Hob. An effort is being consciously made.

The historical concept of patronage is basically a form of sugar daddying, imo. In the white horse in 1389/1489 the people at the adjacent tables are definitely like "Ah yes, there goes our good friend Robert hoping to advance his fortunes by getting into that fancy lord's pants. Good luck to him!"

#panickingstudent #the sandman #dreamling #nsft #sugar daddy au

[deansapplepie]

Inherited | Chapter 2

Summary: Everything is set, Daryl and Y/N are now officially the inheritors of Mr. Y/L/N’s farm and his other belongings. A new visitor arrives and past is everywhere.

Warnings: Daryl curse like 2 times, very brief mentions of sex, death, grieving, not much happen really.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x f! Reader

Word count: 1,873

A/N: English isn’t my first language so it can have mistakes. This is a short chapter, not much happen, but we have a flashback and some infos about their past.

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Chapter 1 Chapter 3

Chapter 2:

Spaghetti and Bracelets

All of you nodded your heads and waved goodbye to Yumiko. You had signed already all the papers and she was going to make them official. She entered in her car and you all waited till she was far on the road to say anything.

“FUCK!” Daryl rampaged and kicked one of the plant pots near the stairs.

“Do you think I’m happy?” You bursted out. “That’s it, or I call her back and we give everything to Negan. What do you think about it?”

“Ya know this is the only reason I agreed to this shit!”

“Hey, you two. It’s not the time to fight.” Aaron who was just watching decided to intervene.

“Nobody asked yer opinion fancy-pants. Just because ya’re fucking, it doesn’t mean ya have a saying in our business.” Daryl spit the words without thinking about it, you laughed.

He looked at you, angry, what was so funny? You laughed more, you had a laughing fit and you couldn’t just stop. Aaron was holding his laugh, he was afraid the man would kill him if he started laughing too. Now Daryl looked at you questioning your sanity. “What’s so funny?”

“Seriously?” You managed to say between laughing. “You can’t be serious…” you had tears in your eyes from your laughing fit. You had no idea you’d be able to laugh so hard during this terrible day and you also didn’t imagine Daryl would be the reason of that.

He was silent, angry. He was part of a joke and he couldn’t understand what was it. “Are you dumb? Or are you just playing?” You asked tilting your head to the side, truly, you wanted to know. His beautiful blue eyes were stormy with anger, but the fault was on him, he was truly looking for it.

You listened to a motor roar coming from the road and smiled. “If you’re not playing, you’ll just see how dumb you are in some minutes.”

“Don’t need to, ya already made it clear many years ago.” He couldn’t hold it, you calling him dumb? All again? Now that he was stuck with you in this house? Well, at least he was expecting you to go back to the big city soon, and then maybe you could just talk to each other professionally.

He had to make that remark about what you said when you were young and stupid, but it wasn’t even half of it, and he himself had said hurtful words too. The car on the road was getting closer and closer, and you had a growing smirk on your face. When it passed the gate you looked back at him. “If I were you, I’d sit to watch the plot twist of the story you made up inside that head of yours.” You sat on one of the rocking chairs and relaxed your body, just waiting for the car to park in front of the house. It was a taxi cab, and the passenger was a young cute blond man.

When he got outside the cab, he grabbed his luggage and said his goodbyes for the driver, that at this moment was already his friend. Aaron went down the stairs quickly and happy, and embraced the man giving him a sweet peck on his lips, and holding his baggage to take inside.

“Oh…” you heard Daryl say. ‘He’s gay’, he thought. It didn’t even crossed his mind that maybe he was bisexual and you were a third wheel in their relationship, because he knew you could be many things, hot headed, stubborn, annoying, and many other adjectives that he could use to describe you, but one thing he knew, you were not a whore.

“Eric, it’s so good to see you!” You got up of the chair and hugged him as soon as he stepped on the porch.

“Honey, I’m so sorry for your loss.” He caressed your back and you felt at ease.

“Thank you, I’m so glad I have both of you.”

You guided him inside the house and ignored Daryl, but Eric couldn’t ignore, he was too polite for it. “You didn’t introduced your friend.” He made you stop right at the door.

“Sorry, I was so excited to see you that I forgot.” You faked innocence. “Eric this is Daryl, Daryl this Eric, Aaron’s husband.”

They greeted each other and then you went inside with Eric. It was a little past lunchtime, but you imagined he was hungry so you heated something for him. Soon Aaron joined you, after storing Eric’s belongings in the guest room. You looked through the window and you saw Daryl passing, probably going to the stables, it was in that direction.

“Y/N, I dun want’ya to go.” 9 year-old Daryl said, both of you sitting on the fence observing the horses that were being trained.

“I dun wanna go, but momma say we need to.” 8 year-old you were so upset, you couldn’t understand why you had to go and leave your dad, your home, your friends and your horse, Stormy, that your daddy had gave you the year before.

“Yer birthday is coming, we were gonna ride horses and play on the lake.” That was your plan, Maggie’s, his and yours, the adults didn’t even knew about it, but you were sure the three of you would make it happen.

“I know…” You had nothing to say, it was out of your control. “I have somethin’ for ya.” You said.

“Wha’?” He asked curiously, you extended your little hand to him holding a blue tangled bracelet that you had made. “I can’t use this, bracelets are for girls!”

“It’s blue. Duh! boys can use too.” You innocently said at this time people didn’t have the idea that colors didn’t have gender. “Now, gimme yer arm.”

He gave you his arm a little bit against his will, but if you cried because he didn’t, he’d feel bad. So he extended his arm and let you put it around his wrist.

“See here.” You pointed at a knot that had two cords inside. “Ya can use to open it more or close it. It ain’t for ya to take it off, it’s for ya to make it larger as ya grow.”

“Ya want me to wear it forever?” He asked incredulous, forever was a long time to have a girly accessory on him, you nodded.

“If ya take it off, I’ll know. Mags gonna tell me.” You had given one her too, hers was yellow, because you thought she was like a ray of sunshine and had the prettiest smile, and Daryl’s were blue because well… his eyes were blue and the most beautiful thing you had looked at. You took another one from your pocket and handed it to him. “Now ya put this one for me.”

“D’ya have one two?” He said taking the purple bracelet from your hand.

“Of course, we’re best friends so I also need one.” You shaked your arm in front of his face, indicating he should put the bracelet. He took your hand and put it on your wrist, when he finished he hold your hand. “Now, we’re always gonna be together, no matter where we are.”

“Y/N!” You jumped startled by Aaron’s voice.

“Yeah! Sorry.” You answered.

“Where were you?” He asked curiously.

“Just remembering old things from the farm.” You answered, your attention back to your friends.

“So…” Eric started, and you knew where it was going. “Is that the Daryl? ‘The Daryl Dixon best sex of my life’?”

God… you so hated yourself right now for having told them all about Daryl, but you had no one after everything happened and you and Aaron became besties really quick as you also became Eric’s once they started dating.

“Yes, but remember, he’s also ‘Daryl made me feel like shit and broke my heart, and I can’t just go back home because he’s everywhere‘.” You remembered him. Yes, he was your best sex, but it wasn’t your fault no one after it could compare to him.

“He thought Y/N and I were a couple.” Aaron said and this time he couldn’t hold his laugh. “You arrived just at the right time.”

“Which means he was jealous…” Eric pointed, “he still likes you.”

“Impossible. He already made clear he hates me.” You said, and you wanted to say you hated him too, but you didn’t. He annoyed you, infuriated and made you incredibly upset, but you would never be able to hate him. “My dad… the little shit… is it a sin if I cuss my dad? He did it on purpose”

“I was going to say it. This arrangement of both of you inheriting everything and if you didn’t want to share giving it to another person? That was totally your father wanting both of you to solve whatever was unsolved between both of you.” Aaron observed, and yes, you thought exactly what he said.

“Your daddy was a good matchmaker.” Eric commented drinking some of his cold tea.

“ ‘cause he didn’t know all that happened. He just knew we had some problems…” you’d never dare telling everything to your dad. He loved Daryl and you were afraid what would have happened to him if your dad knew.

After, you went to your old bedroom that still looked a lot like teenage you, your dad could have let it exactly the same as when you left with your mom, but he changed it through the years to accompany your taste as you grew. You didn’t had the time to take a good look at it since you arrived, your time there had been limited. It didn’t match you now, but it was still comforting. You change your funeral clothes and put some more comfortable, you found a flannel from your closet that still fit you, a tank top and some pants. You changed and laid on your bed to try having some rest.

When you woke up, it was dark and someone knocked on your door. “Come in”, you said sleepy voice. The door cracked open and the light of the corridor entered the room, and there he was, Daryl Dixon, standing at your door. How long have it been since last time you saw him there?

“Eric made spaghetti, he asked me to call ya.” Once he said it, he left and while you listened his steps in the corridor you went to the bathroom to wash your face before you went downstairs.

You entered the dining room and they were just waiting for you to eat. “Sorry, I slept too much.” You sat by Daryl’s side, unfortunately it would be strange if you didn’t, even with your friends knowing everything.

“Darling, you had all right to sleep, you’ve been through a lot.” Eric said, he took a plate and served you. “You guys can serve yourselves, the special treatment goes only for Y/N.”

“Thanks, you’re the best. Your spaghetti was everything I needed today.” You said, taking a mouthful with your fork while the others served.

“Daryl, what do you do here at the farm?” Eric tried to do some small talk with the man.

Daryl had his mouth full of spaghetti and started talking while still finishing to swallow with. “Pretty much everythin’, I take care of the animals, supervise the crop… think I just dun train the horses.” Because that was what your Dad did, he loved training the horses and domesticating them… he was good with them. The atmosphere became heavy, Daryl also remembered him, you knew it. He went back to his plate and continued to eat.

“That was my dad’s job… and administration” you said, you could almost forget your pain, you could almost ignore it and pretend this was just a nice day with your friends, but it wasn’t. You were home, without your dad and there’s no changing, no going back in time. Nothing.

“Oh my, I’m sorry.” Eric said, now a little guilty for having brought the topic, but it wasn’t really his fault.

“It’s ok. You just wanted to know Daryl better, there’s no way you could know it was going to make we remember him.” And it was true Eric had no way of knowing it.

After dinner Eric, Aaron and you talked a little more. Aaron told you that Daryl apologized to him and you thought it was nice from him, since he was so stubborn and always thought he was right. You went to your bedroom and sat by the window, you put the lights off… it would not be the same thing as before, but you’d try to observe the sky and the stars, just like you did when you were younger, at NY there was no way of doing such. You looked outside of your window and you could see a shadow near the fence, and if you weren’t wrong, it was Daryl… the dark figure kinda looked like him. Did he still do that? Didn’t he stopped after you left? Both of you, used to sit at night on the fence to observe the stars and talk. He used to say he was there just because of you, so you thought he didn’t like the stars… maybe Merle or his dad had told him that man didn’t admire the sky or any misogynistic shit that they’d normally say. But you guess, it wasn’t it. So he still liked observing them.

Down on the fields of the farm, leaning on the fence, a cigarette lighted in his hand, Daryl looked at the sky, he hadn’t lost the habit, he tried. When it came to this time of the day, he couldn’t feel at ease if he didn’t went outside and looked at the ‘goddamn’ sky. Taking a glance in the direction of the house, his eyes automatically stopped at your window, You didn’t know he was looking, but even in the dark he could see you there partially illuminated by the moonlight. He wondered if it was just a coincidence or if you still enjoyed admiring the sky, just like the naïve girl you were used to like.

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#daryl dixon #the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #twd daryl #twd #daryl x reader #daryl x y/n #daryl fanfiction #daryl imagines #daryl x you #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl #daryl dixon imagine #the walking dead daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #inherited twd au #deansapplepie