#so depending on how much i wanted to flesh out the Other Times Luke Kisses Bobby

[bbreaddog]

You KNOW I need some "The Times Where Luke Kisses Bobby"

😁

I thought about posting an angsty snippet BUT I’ve decided to have mercy, so here’s the first (and only) positive moment that prompts Luke to kiss Bobby

(Based on @merry-the-cookie’s comic)

The first time Luke kisses him is when he books them a killer gig.

No one is expecting it—least of all Bobby—when Luke grabs his face and presses their lips together. It barely lasts a second before Luke is pulling away to accept Reggie’s high-five with a whoop, leaving Bobby frozen in shock.

Then he’s being pulled into a tight hug, Reggie’s laughter in his ear, and Bobby has enough of a mind to pat him around the shoulder.

Distantly Bobby hears Alex pipe up with the exact words forming in his own head: “What the hell just happened?”

#ask #1mnobodywhoareyou #merry-the-cookie #jatp #jatp fic #i write things #mine #fun fact: this snippet could count as a standalone drabble coming in at 99 words #so depending on how much i wanted to flesh out the Other Times Luke Kisses Bobby #i could just publish this as its own thing on ao3 and make this into a drabble series or something #we’ll see tho #still too early to tell #ygstl fic

[darkisrising]

BobaDinLuke bdsm fic, by DarkIsRising

Can’t decide if this is something to continue or if this is as far as it goes. So, I’m just gonna dub it a Tumblr fic for now. If it picks up steam then I’ll add to it, edit it, and throw it onto ao3. CW: Very very spicy, bdsm, a host of other stuff probably but rest assured everything here is consensual.

They meet at a sex party, which in hindsight shouldn’t be a surprise. It’s just about the only time Luke can be talked out of leaving the house these days.

He shows up in a hood that hides his features save for somber brown eyes and the plush spread of his lips; the black latex so shiny that Luke can just about see his own reflection in it. He wears leather like a second skin and even without being able to make out a single feature on his face, save those eyes and lips, or a single detail of his body, save his exposed cock, he is the most beautiful man Luke’s ever seen.

Luke, of course, is naked. His knees are hitched up to his chest, held there by his own arms that he knows better than to lower, and the words Load Count are scrawled in extra wide Sharpie from one nipple to the other. He’s already gone two rounds and there’s two lines beneath the words to show for it. Boba’s turn came first, of course. It was his privilege as Luke’s dom and he'd taken it with one finger hooked around the collar that marked Luke as his. And then after Boba there had been a guy that Luke hadn’t recognized with a nice enough cock and a regrettable tribal tattoo across his shoulder.

There’s something about this third man that gives Luke pause. Something in the way he takes his place at Luke’s ass— something so hesitant and careful and precise and apologetic as he pulls himself hard enough to sink into Luke’s body— that is awfully endearing. Luke wishes he could tell him it’s okay. That he’s here because he likes doing this sort of thing. That his dom is somewhere nearby, watching from the shadowed corners of the room, to make sure that despite all the calls to wreck that twink’s ass and fuck him up! and do it so hard he won’t be able to walk no one actually does anything that Luke isn’t into.

He can’t, of course, because his mouth is where Boba’s left the Sharpie, a neat solution since the last time they’d played this game the Sharpie had been lost to the dungeon’s dark and sticky floor within the first five minutes. Instead he tries to show it with a widening of his eyes and an encouraging grunt for every tiny thrust he gives as he fucks inside of Luke, the wet from lube and release slicking his way. When he’s all the way in he rests for a moment and it feels like the kind of moment that Luke could live a lifetime in for the way he meets Luke’s eyes, the way his gloved thumb reaches down to rest against Luke’s chin, the way he stretches Luke’s ass with just the right amount of cock to set the base of his spine sparking, but not so much that Luke’s worried he’ll be split in two. 

“Ready?” he asks and his voice is so low it very nearly gets lost to all the moans and groans and demands for more that writhe like eels through the air. His eyes gleam dark in the dim dungeon and Luke can’t look away. He nods, entranced, and for the first time that night Luke’s not thinking about all the men that are going to follow, he’s only thinking about the one that’s inside of him. 

I want to kiss him. The thought hits him— blinding as a bolt of sunlight that’s been hidden behind a cloud— and it’s the most that Luke’s wanted something so chaste in so long he doesn’t know what to do with it. Not that he has many options in this position with a Sharpie clenched between his teeth. All he can do is stare at this man’s lips and yearn with an intensity that carves into his chest as this man’s cock carves into his ass and Luke can’t say of the two sensations which is more intimate. 

“You’re so tight,” the man rasps out and Luke can’t stop himself from clenching down, his hips jerking at the compliment. It’s something he’s heard a million times from countless, faceless other men, but oh the way this man says it makes him flush all over.

It’s over before Luke’s really ready, but one glance over the man’s shoulder and Luke can see a line is forming. Usually it would make him hard in anticipation, to see so many that want to use him and fill him until he’s leaking. This time he wishes he could have more time with just this one.

The man takes the marker out from between Luke’s teeth and Luke wishes he’d replace it with two of his leather-covered fingers. He doesn’t, though, only marks a line on Luke’s chest and then in the same soft, sincere way he’d told Luke he was tight says “Thank you,” and in that moment Luke is pretty sure he’d do just about anything for this man. 

Which is a terrifying, thrilling thought. And a dangerous one, seeing as his rash, unchecked impulsiveness is why he needs a guy like Boba to keep him in line to begin with. 

Before the man can cap the Sharpie again, Luke darts to snatch it out of his hand. The weighted shape of Boba coming out from the shadows, called forward by this change of script.

Luke ignores him. He ignores the line of waiting men stroking themselves hard as they watch Luke with interest as he grabs this man’s hand.

“May I?” Luke asks in as submissive a voice he can muster, and Boba would be so surprised to hear it come out so easily, but Luke can behave when he wants to. Most of the time. “Please, sir,” he adds when the man says nothing.

A slight incline of his head is all the answer he gives, and Luke wastes no time in peeling away his brown leather glove. He writes out his cell number as clearly as he can with a marker that’s a little too thick for it and then, when he’s done, he holds that brown gaze as he bends down to blow the ink dry. 

“Thank you, sir,” Luke husks, heart beating wildly. The man doesn’t say anything back, he only takes his glove and works it back down over his hand and then he’s gone, swallowed by the dark.

“Is there a problem?” a voice growls near Luke’s ear. Tugging on the collar around his neck brings Luke’s attention to Boba’s familiar, scarred frown.

“No, sir,” Luke says, turning his face into Boba’s neck, nuzzling in, but Boba steps away, keeping him at arm’s length.

“That’s only for good boys that finish what they start. Are you going to finish what you started, little one?” It’s a warning as clear as the shake of a rattlesnake’s tail: dangerous and low.

“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.”

Two hands take Luke by the shoulders and lay him back down. The marker is plucked from his hands and recapped with a snap. “How many loads have you had tonight?”

“Three, sir.”

“And how many did we agree you’d take?” Boba asks, catching Luke beneath his knees, hoisting them back up against his chest and into position. 

Luke shivers, as the humid air meets the wet of his hole, breathing cold, while the hot, hungry gazes of the waiting men meet among the slick. “Eight, sir.”

“Then get to it.” The Sharpie is slid back between his teeth and then Boba’s hands are winding through his hair, pulling just enough to bring a jolt of pain. Luke’s breath catches in his throat. “No distractions this time.”

Soon enough another guy is penetrating Luke, brought forward by Boba’s commanding nod. He’s rocking into Luke, fucking him with an intensity that makes a dull thwack every time their bodies meet. The next guy is huge, so big that Luke has to bite down on the plastic hull of the marker in his mouth to keep from screaming. Tears squeeze from Luke’s eyes, wrested out with every incredible thrust in. Luke loses track after that. The pain becoming pleasure, the pleasure never quite becoming enough to spill over into satisfaction, only transforming into something else. Something intense and terrible and blessed and more. The men change, the girths and lengths that hold him open and fuck him apart change, and Luke takes them all.

Through it all Boba stays where he is, supervising with an unforgiving hand in Luke’s hair, the pain a constant that Luke can depend on, focus on, until it becomes awash with a dull, glowing haze. This is what he’s here for—  this feeling— this euphoria where he’s horribly small and he’s unfathomably large, together. He’s an object to be used and discarded. He’s more precious, more vital, more necessary than he can comprehend. 

A kiss on his forehead cuts through the fog, and Luke realizes he’s not being fucked anymore for all that he can still feel a phantom grinding between his cheeks. His fingers are made to unclench from where they’ve dug like claws onto his flesh and his legs are lowered. The wet mess that’s been left to leak out of him is a turn-on but even that is a distant thing. There’s no immediacy to it, no driving need to slack his lust, just a thrum of appreciation for this proof that every man that’s had him tonight has left behind.

Drawing him in, Boba cups the back of his head until Luke’s pressed into the cradle of Boba’s neck. He was denied this privilege earlier. Now it’s being freely given. The difference sets him shaking, or maybe that’s just the come-down.

“That was good.” Boba’s voice is a rumble that Luke can feel through the places they are pressed together. The steady jump of Boba’s pulse is calming against the bow of his lips and Luke closes his eyes to savor it.

Time gets away from him again, and somehow he’s been cleaned enough to stuff his legs into pants and a warm sweatshirt is pulled over his head. The black hood comes up, as good as blinders on a horse, and then he’s led out to where there are sofas and water and people speaking soft as a passing brook.

The lip of a water bottle is pressed to his mouth and Luke obediently drinks from it without thinking. Boba sits in a plush armchair and though he’s shorter than Luke, there’s so much of him that Luke can curl into his lap and disappear behind the safe, steel beams of his muscular arms. 

“Your boy did good out there,” Fennec says, dropping into a nearby seat and Boba’s agreement is another rumble for Luke to savor with his eyes closed. “I haven’t seen you two in months, I was surprised to see you came out for this.”

There’s a question in her words, a careful line to walk between curiosity and concern, that normally sends Luke into a tailspin in the outside world. Here, though, he isn’t Luke Skywalker: wounded veteran and broken hero. He’s a pet— Boba’s pet— and he lets his dom navigate the social interaction while he sinks deeper into his embrace.

To Boba’s credit, he makes no mention of the malaise that’s grabbed hold of Luke lately, pinning him to the bed and keeping him there for days. Instead he huffs a harsh laugh. “Yeah, well. Maybe if Fortuna hadn’t turned this place into such a shithole we’d be over more.”

“Can’t argue with that. Say what you like about Jabba, but at least things weren’t always breaking on his watch. Did you hear about the ceiling that collapsed a month ago? When someone was in the sling, too.”

“Oh, shit.” Boba says and then they are off, trading gossip and wry quips. Luke is content to close his eyes and listen, secure that the only thing he needs to do is exactly what he’s doing right now. Every now and then Boba strokes his back through the thick cotton of his hoodie or turns to nuzzle at Luke’s temple, and every time Luke’s contentment spreads thick like molasses.

He surfs this subspace all the way back home where he lets Boba get him clean and dressed in pajama pants and poured into bed. The last thing he does is release the buckle on Luke’s collar and then, with one final squeeze to the scruff of Luke’s neck, the scene is over.

“How are you doing? Want me to grab the ibuprofen?”

“Nah, it’s not that bad,” Luke answers, shifting so that the ache in his ass becomes a little more noticable. “Been awhile since I did anything like that.”

“Yeah, no kidding. Was proud of you, though.” There’s a chair by the bed and Boba sits there, staying close but careful to give Luke his space now that they’re done for the night. “That’s two more than the last time you took on a train.”

“Mmm,” Luke agrees lazily. The writing on his chest hadn’t totally come off in the bath, and he pushes his blanket down enough to trace the lines on his chest, lingering on the third one.

“Wanna tell me what that was all about with number three?”

Number three. He of the shiny latex mask and the deep brown eyes and the lips that Luke can almost feel against his own for how much he’d wanted them to be. It’s enough that he almost asks Boba to bring him his phone so that he can wait around like a lovelorn teen for a call or a text, but he’s still coasting enough on endorphins from earlier that he doesn’t want to completely tank his chance at sleep by keeping vigil over the glow of a phone screen all night.

“Not really,” Luke admits at last. “Wasn’t anything bad,” and Boba accepts that with a nod.

“Fine. Keep your secrets. Let me know if it becomes anything I need to worry about.”

“Always.”

Boba stands to leave, a lumbering swing to the motion that Luke knows means his prosthetic is giving him problems, but he knows better than to mention it. “Don’t worry about making breakfast tomorrow. Sleep in. I’m in meetings all morning, anyway.”

“Yeah, okay.”

When Luke closes his eyes, the ache from his over-used, well-fucked body is finally enough to quiet his demons. For once, sleep is swift as death, and just as inescapable.

#bobadinluke #spicy #darkisrising fic

[mysticalgalaxysalad]

An Old Love Doesn’t Rust

Ship: Paz Vizsla x Din Djarin

Fandom: The Mandalorian/Star Wars

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: yearning, two idiots in love trope, feelings, detailed smut (18+), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, folks), oral sex, porn with feelings, fluff, romance, set after Chapter 16

Summary: Din accepts his fate with the Darksaber on the Mandalore. While preparing a ball for Mandalorians, he unexpectedly meets an old friend from the past and feelings come on the surface.

Words: 3.2k (what the fuuuck, i have never written this much for a oneshot, holy shit, i impressed myself at this point)

It was difficult to settle without him.

After Din let Grogu leave with Luke, he felt empty. He knew that he’ll miss his son. And that Grogu will miss him too. But there was something, that he needed to do. Din looked at the Darksaber and sighed. He wasn’t ready for this, but this was the Way.

       Few months later…

„..and these flowers will be there…“

Din was already exhausted. As the Mand’alor, he was throwing a ball for his fellow Mandalorians. And it was pretty big event. His assistants were talking too much and at some point Din caught himself to be dived deep into his memories. Especially in his memories for certain bigger boy in dark blue Beskar armor…

Paz Vizsla. The name of a man Din thought of very often. Of his best friend. Oh, how much Din wanted to see that big blue di’kut again! In those rare moments, when Din dared to be vulnerable with himself, completely honest, he missed Paz in ways he would have never thought he would. He missed his deep voice, when Paz was talking about practically anything he had on his mind, his wholehearted laughter, when he and Din had gotten away with some mischief, his like dark night sky blue, shiny armor, his touch, when Paz patted Din on the back, when Din was choking on a piece of juicy fruit…

Din was so caught up in his thoughts and feelings about Paz, that he didn’t notice his right hand Mandalorian in purple Beskar saying him something. He remembered himself only after Mandalorian patting him on his shoulder.

„What’s going on?“

„Sir, I think it’s time to prepare for the event,“ Mandalorian nervously stepped.

„Oh yes, that ball,“ Din sighed and got up. „Thank you for noticing me,“ he nodded at Mando and left to prepare for the night.

          Later that evening…

„Ladies and gentleman and others, welcome to the ball,“ Din, dressed in his silver Beskar armor, which was shinier and overall looking better than usually, started his first speach as the Mand’alor. All Mandalorians, also dressed in their shiny armors, listened to him very attentively. Djarin didn’t speak for too long, although he seemed to be very calm and confident, his heart was nervously pounding in his armored chest. He spoke about what he thought was important and from his heart.

„And now, let’s the fun begin. This is the Way,“ Din finished his speech with Mandalorian creed, and everyone could feel the smile in his voice.

„This is the Way,“ Mandalorians chanted cheerfully. Some of them even chanted Din’s name. Din blushed a little and smiled under his helmet. As he was watching his fellow vods having fun, he caught sight of very familiar blue color. And he felt suddenly his heart to stop.

That familiar blue color could originate from the only one source. In that moment, Din knew, who it was. It felt like Maker had heard his most secret hopes and dreams. Maybe…maybe he could be happy again.

Stunned Din watched his long lost friend Paz talking to Bo-Katan. Suddenly, he felt a lump forming in his throat, his mouth dry like Tatooine sands. Will Paz still remember his friend from childhood? And how did he leave Nevarro? Where had he gone after that shooting? Din’s head was full of questions he hoped he’d get answers to soon.

„…and then we saved Grogu and I lost the Darksaber,“ Bo-Katan grumpily rambled about their adventures to her new object of complaining, Paz, who really tried to listen to her, but he kept daydreaming, just as Din.

„So, who’s the new Mand’alor?“ Paz interrupted Bo-Katan’s venting, much to her annoyance.

„Look for yourself, big blue boy,“ she smirked.

Paz groaned. Something about the way she said „big blue boy“, irked him. He was about to say something ironic to her, when he noticed she left. Good, at least I’ll get some peace now, he thought. But not for long. When he turned to see the famous Mand’alor, he froze.

Paz would not have been much happier for his helmet than in the very moment he saw Din on the Mand’alor throne. His dark, sparkling eyes went comically wide, plump, soft lips, which had never kissed yet, slighty parted. It felt like all his thoughts, words were thrown out of Paz‘ head. He couldn’t even tell, what exactly he felt at that moment. Relief, happiness, doubt, that Din would not remember him, or something, that made his lower parts tingle? Probably all at once, if Paz would be absolutely honest with himself. And maybe something more. There was always something more with Din.

As the ball continues, Din felt himself very tired. But since he saw Paz, he could say, that something in the air changed. He also knew, that he wouldn’t be able to sleep without talking to Vizsla, but it seemed Din couldn’t get to him. Every few minutes someone wanted to talk with him.

While politely conversating with another Mando, he caught Paz‘ visor staring at him and suddenly the world stopped existing. It was like each other of them could see each other’s sould and it was intense and burning. Din’s breath hitched and his blood changed into something similar to molten lava.

He politely excused himself from discussion and nodded at Paz to follow him. He headed to a small part of garden, protected by a bunch of bushes with beautiful, soft looking bloody red flowers with thin petals and honey-sweet smell. Mand’alor didn’t turn his back to see, if Paz was really following him. Paz was.

When they got into that secret garden spot, Din slowly turned to Paz. His whole body lightly buzzed with nerves and sweet anticipation. For a few minutes, there was a silence, filled with a tension and something else. Promise.

They stared at each other for a while. Then Din moved and Paz moved too and they hugged like their lives depended on it. Mand’alor sighed happily. Paz‘ strong, big hug provided him security and comfort Din never knew he needed. Untill now. And when he got a taste, he could never get enough.

„Djarin, so you’ve made it to the Mand’alor,“ Din could feel the grin and proud in Paz‘ raspy voice. He, after all, was grinning like a fool himself under his Beskar bucket. „I see you’ve made it pretty good too, Vizsla,“ Din said, then he whispered softer. „I thought you’d died.“ His black visor met Paz‘ one.

„Y-yeah, i was succesful with leaving Nevarro, but I had to stay low since then,“ Paz explained, his voice sounded little bit choked. „Otherwise I would get in touch with you, but I thought it would bring you unwanted attention from those kriffing Imps and I - I didn’t want to endanger you, Din,“ Paz‘ voice got softer and softer with every word spoken. And I was afraid you wouldn’t remember me, Paz thought of.

Din was awestruck from what he just heard. After a minute or two, when he regained his composure, he spoke again, voice filled with an emotion he couldn’t quite entitle. „You could never endanger me, ner vod,“ and before he could stop himself, Din’s hands grasped Paz‘ helmet carefully and he stepped on his toes to clink his silver bucket against Paz‘. Din didn’t think about it twice. It somehow felt…so right.

To say Paz was overwhelmed, was a big understatement. He knew since he had seen Din for the first time after such long time, there had been something between them. He could feel it with his whole body, mind, soul. It was syrupy thick and sweet and hot and so intense, it consumed him. It brought emotions in Paz, which he wouldn’t even dare to call it.

So, he just stood there, absolutely dumbstruck, and gulped dry. His heart was pounding in his chest. Before he could do anything, Din let go of him. Paz was still quietly processing, that his best friend just kissed him in Mandalorian way, when Din did another thing, which took Paz Vizsla’s breath away. Din Djarin, the new Mand’alor, took off his helmet.

Paz knew he should scold Din for what he had just done. Broken Creed atc. However, he couldn’t bring himself to do so. All he could do right now, was to think about how Din looked so beautiful in the moonlight. His dark brown eyes, deep as the galaxy surronding them, reflected the light of stars above them. His helmet hair were wet with sweat and full of soft curls. And the pink, plump lips…Stars, Din was a sight for gods. Paz slightly shuddered. His mind was flooded with very tempting pictures of Mand’alor himself, writhing beneath big blue Beskar Mandalorian, his mouth creating perfect ‚O‘ shape, as Paz hit that heavenly spot inside Din, which made Din see not stars, but whole galaxies…His body reacted to these images very precisely and he was thankful for his codpiece, as he was already hot and throbbing in his pants.

Din noticed Paz‘ quietness and his tremble. He had no idea, why it happened, but he slowly started to be afraid, that Paz was disgusted by what he had done. Oh, if he only knew…

There was a flesh of insecurity in Din’s eyes and Mand’alor took a step back. This alarmed Paz, who got into his protector mode. „What’s wrong, cyare? Did I hurt you? Oh, kriffing hell, I didn’t-“ Paz would probably continue in his rambling, if he didn’t see Din’s surprised look with a hint of hope. And Paz realized, what he said. But there was no way in hell for him to take it back. Paz simply couldn’t hold himself anymore.

„Yes, Din, cyare,“ and now was time for Din to be in shock, because Paz copied his gesture with taking off the helmet. Din gasped, when Paz came closer and slowly, as if Din was made from a fragile materiál, caressed his blushed cheeks. His whole body throbbed with need. „So beautiful,“ Paz whispered and lowered himself to Din’s face. „You-you’re very pretty yourself, Paz,“ Din answered and looked at him with silent plea. Paz obeyed. His lips touched Din’s and it was burning like a wild fire. Slow, gentle kisses quickly turned into more needy, hot sensual ones. Both men after a while groaned into each other’s mouth, and that just spurred them more. It was sinful and passionate and just everything they wanted.

„We should také this somewhere private, Djarin,“ Paz panted into Din’s ear, when he licked his earlobe and sucked it. „Ye-yeah, we should- oh, kriffing stars,“ Din groaned, when he felt Paz‘ lips on his neck, sucking a mark on his tender spot. Under Vizsla’s touches, Din quickly changed into needy, trembling mess, he was so touch-starved.

Finally, Paz reluctantly let go of Din, picking his helmet. When Din got his helmet too, he nodded at the man with blue Beskar to follow him. They quickly walked through garden, too eager to feel each other’s body. After few minutes, which felt like eternity, they got into Din’s private quarters, and the moment the door closed behind them, they were on each other again.

They eagerly stripped of Beskar, it was laid randomly on the floor. Neither of them cared. Paz sucked another mark into Din’s neck and tugged on his T-shirt to pull it off of Din. When Din was half bare before Paz, Paz also took his shirt off. „Mmm, so beautiful,“ whispered, as he was kissing every inch of Din’s tender skin. By the time Paz got to his nipples, Din was a panting mess, back arching into Paz. „Shhh, Din, I know, I’ve got you. I’ve got you, ner cyare, let me take care of you.“ With those words, Paz sucked one of Din’s erect nipples, licking and carefully biting it slowly, while kneading the other one. Din let out a loud whimper, his hand went straight into Paz‘ soft, fluffy hair. His body shook and Din thought he could cum just from his nipples being sucked.

Paz paid the same attention to the other nipple as well and Din’s groans of pleasure got louder. When Paz felt Din’s nipples gor enough attention, he slowly kissed, licked and bit Din’s torso to his stomach and lower abdomen. „O-oh, it feels s-so g-good, Paz,“ Din panted, while Paz sucked few more hickeys into his skin. „And it will be better, love,“ Paz purred and tugged on Din’s pants. Din lifted his hips, so Paz could get rid of it. It was also tossed on the floor and Paz turned to Din’s rock hard cock, leaking precum all over. 

 „Holy shit,“ Paz whispered to himself, as his mouth watered at the sight. He couldn’t resist to lick Din’s length and taste him like the best lollipop. The sinful groan he let out, went straight to Din’s cock and Din thrusted his hips instinctively. „S-sorry,“ he exhaled. „Don’t have to be, love,“ Paz winked and let Din slide into his warm and wet mouth. Din’s mouth shaped perfect ‚O‘, as Paz‘ mischievous tongue licked along Din’s velvety dick. He never felt anything like this. Everything, what Paz did to him, made his blood change into wild lava and reduce him into whimpering puddle. And  after one particularly good suck Din found himself teetering right on the edge. „P-Paz, I-I think I’m gonna-“ That was when Paz let him slide of his mouth with loud ‚pop‘.

Din pushed himself up on his elbows and with loud disappointed grunt looked at his lover. Paz shushed him again. „I will také care of you, my sweet boy, do not worry,“ he also undressed and bared himself to Din. And at the sight of naked Paz, Din lost his ability to speak. Paz was big and thick and beautiful. And very aroused. Paz pumped himself few times, smearing his precum all over his cock. „Do you have lube?“ „In a nightstand,“ Din nodded, his voice raspy from moaning. Paz found a small bottle and squirted a good amount of gel on his fingers. „Will you let me take care of you, Din?“ Din nodded again, opened his legs slowly and leaned back on the bed, trying to relax for Paz. Paz smiled and kissed him.

„That’s my good boy,“ he purred and at first he just touched Din’s hole with his wet fingers. He looked at Din’s face for any sign of discomfort, but when he didn’t find any, he carefully pushed one finger in. Din closed his eyes and grunted. It was slightly uncomfortable, but eventually he got used to Paz‘ fingers sliding in and out of him. It also helped that Paz used a lot of lube too. All this time Paz was praising him. „My sweet boy, take my fingers so good. Oh, you’re so beautiful, my love.“

Din felt absolutely wonderful. Paz‘ fingers always hit that one spot inside him, that made him keen and lean into Paz‘ touch. „A-ah, Vizsla, yes, yes,“ Din moaned and grabbed the sheets beneath him, as if to anchor himself. After earlier edging, he was worked up and felt on the edge of heavenly pleasure once again. But Paz had apparently other plans and stopped stimulating Din.

„Paaaz-“ Din pouted and looked at him with almost teary dovey eyes. Although he quickly shut himself, when he felt Paz nudging at his entrance. Paz took the lube again and squirted a lot of it all over his cock. „I-I’ve got you, Din, my love,“ Paz whispered and slowly entered Din. He groaned deeply and when Paz was fully seated inside of Mand’alor, he leaned to kiss him passionately. This allowed him also také a breath, because of how tight and warm Din felt around him, Paz felt like he might combust right and there.

After a short while, Paz set slow, sensual pace. If Din thought this couldn’t get better, he was painfully wrong. And also painfully hard. But Paz proved his earlier words, when he grasped Din’s beautiful weeping cock and started to pump him. Din’s moans and grunts got two octaves higher, and under normal conditions, he’d be embarassed for it. Now he couldn’t care less. Not when Paz was looking at him, as if Din hung all the stars on the sky himself. Not when Paz‘ sight was full of passion and so much love for him. That was moment Din knew he was done for.

„I-I love you, Paz,“ Din panted and his one hand caressed lovingly Paz‘ scruffed cheek, while the other one hugged around his strong, broad shoulders. „Y-you do?“ Paz‘ hips slowed for a second and he leaned his forehead against Din’s in Keldabe kiss. „Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum, Din,“ he growled, his pace quickened again, his hands pumping Din matching the pace of his hips. At this point Din was almost screaming from intense pleasure, and Paz was very happy about it. „Now, be a good boy for me once again and cum, Din, let me feel you, ner cyare,“ bigger man mumbled into Din’s ear and slightly sucked it.

That praise sent Din over the edge and oh, did he cum. With a loud groan of Paz‘ name and curses in Mando’a, he climaxed all over Paz‘ hand, his stomach and some of his cum even made it to his neck and chin. The sight of climaxing Din and the feeling of him clamping hard around Paz, triggered Paz’s own orgasm and he climaxed inside Din, panting Din’s name, before he collapsed on blissed out Mand’alor beneath him.

They both laid like that for a short amount of time, listened to each other’s heart. Then Paz slided out of Din, and smaller man whimpered weakly at the loss of him. Paz chuckled. „I’ll be right back, mesh’la,“ he stated and in a while he came back with warm cloth to clean Din. But he had to admit to himself, it was pretty hot to watch his load leaking out of Din. After Din was cleaned, Paz cuddled to him and tucked them both under soft blanket. Din happily sighed, soft smile on his face. He never felt as relaxed as now, laying on Paz‘ chest.

„You did so well for me, Din, I’m proud of you, my love,“ Paz whispered lovingly into Din’s hair, peppering him with kisses and caresses, where he could reach. Din’s smile got bigger and it tugged on Paz‘ heart. He always wanted to see that gorgeous smile. Then Din spoke quietly.

„Did-did you mean it, Paz? Do you love me?“

„Yes, I do, Din. I’m never leaving you ever again, my love, I promise,“ Paz kissed Din’s forehead, nose, both cheeks and finally his lips and it was so soft and full of love.

„Stay with me, please,“ Din asked, kissing Paz‘ handsome face. Paz smiled, and it was biggest, happiest smile, which made him look so much younger and light-hearted.

„With my biggest pleasure, ner Mand’alor.“

taglist: @sunsseto45​ @pedrosaccent​ @charcharlonglegs​ @ahoeformando​ @latenightsthoughtsnstuff​  @randomcollection-o-stuff @just-fics-i-read @tibbietibbs

anyone who wants to be tagged in this, just let me know and i’ll add you :D i just forgot who else wanted to be tagged in my fic, i’m sorry for it :(

#Paz Vizsla #Paz Vizla #Paz Vizsla x Din Djarin #Paz Vizla x Din Djarin #Din Djarin #Heavy Infantry Mandalorian #Mando #The Mandalorian #Star Wars #fanfiction #smut #fluff #romance #love #feelings #fandom #my art #my writing #my fanfiction #fanfic #whoooo boy #holy shit #so much yearning #and hotness #and feelings #and everything #also #3.2k words????? #what the hell :DDD #i'm still processing i wrote this long oneshot

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Heavy is the Crown

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Spencer Reid x F!Reader

Summary: During a case, you learn that Spencer never got to go to a high school dance. And that just doesn't sit right with you, so you decide to fix that.

The case was closed. Several young teenage girls had been kidnapped and murdered. The unsub was a thirty-seven year old male who’d been humiliated at his senior prom, so he saw the young girls as surrogates for the girls who humiliated him at his prom. Before he was able to hurt two more girls, you and the team managed to track him down in time.  

You, Spencer, Derek headed towards the SUV after the capture of the unsub. You shook your head in disbelief, “Wow. Prom. Not gonna lie, I didn’t see prom as a big deal, but I went anyway because I didn’t want to miss out.”

Derek smiled with a hum, “My prom is a bit of a blur, honestly. A lot when on that night,” he gives you a knowing look and you and Spencer roll your eyes at him.

Then Spencer spoke up, “I never got to attend prom.”

You stopped him, before getting into the car, “Wait, you’ve never been to prom?” 

Your friend and crush, Spencer, shrugged, “Well, I wasn’t very liked in high school. I got bullied a lot so didn’t bother going. No one wanted to go with me.” he hopped into the front seat with Derek in the driver’s seat, and you took the back.

You shook your head, not liking the idea that Spencer’s high school experience was tainted by bullies. Then an idea popped into your head....

___________

Friday morning, Rossi walks into the bullpen gathering everyone’s attention, “Joy, Kai, and Shawn are coming over to visit tonight so I’m inviting everyone else as well. Dress to the nines. It’ll be a formal dinner cooked by Hayden and myself.”

Everyone’s eyes lit up with excitement. Yours especially. You watch as Emily speaks with Spencer and you gather everyone else near you, “Okay. Remember everyone needs to get to Rossi’s a half hour before the designated time. We all know that Spencer likes to be punctual.”

“This is so exciting!” Penelope squeals and you, Tara, JJ, and Luke quiet her down, “Sorry!” She then whispers her previous statement, “This is so exciting!”

You giggle, “Okay, remember, Spencer doesn’t know. And try to act cool guys. He’s a profiler. He’ll know if we’re up to something.”

“Who’s up to something?” you jump when you hear Spencer’s voice behind you. He winces and murmurs out an apology.

You shake your head, “It’s fine. We’re planning on pulling a prank on Hotch. You in?”

He shrugs, “Depends what it is.”

“Well, we’re still fleshing out the ideas, but I’ll let you know.” you pat his shoulder and everyone goes back to their respective desks. 

Spencer follows you to yours and leans against your desk as you sit down, “Can I give you a ride to Rossi’s tonight?”

“Sure! You’ll be my DD!” you giggle and he smiles back when he asks, “So, what’re you thinking about wearing tonight?”

“I have this maroon satin gown that I’ve been meaning to wear. Guess I’ll wear that. You?”

“Coat and tie?” he gives a shrug.

“At least add some color, Spence! I know you have some colored ties on you.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Maybe I’ll wear a maroon one so we could match,” he teases.

You scrunch your nose up in playful distaste, “Ew. Matching with you? No way.” you both giggle at the teasing. 

_________

When you answer your door, Spencer is taken back. Your hair is done nicely, makeup glamorous, but not too subtle. The maroon satin dress clings to you perfectly, showing off your figure well.

Spencer gulps, “W-Wow. You look-You look beautiful.”

You shy from his compliment, “Thanks, Spencer. You look pretty good yourself.”

“Oh, uh, thanks,” he says as he smooths down his maroon tie. Looks like he decided to match you after all. 

He gulps when you move around your living room, collecting your purse and shawl, locking up your place. There’s a slit on your dress that reveals your leg when you move and he feels himself grow a little hot.

“Ready?” you ask expectantly. 

“Yup!” he shoots you a smile and helps you into his car. 

You sway to the classical music he plays in his car, completely unaware of the conflict swirling through his mind. Spencer has had feelings for you for a long time, deciding to never say anything to you because he’d rather keep you as a friend than potentially lose you due to his own feelings. 

But tonight, he feels like he’s being tested. You’re so beautiful and there’s this elegance to you that you’re exuding tonight. He feels so overwhelmed. Maybe at the end of the night, he might tell you. Just maybe.

___________

When the door to the Rossi residence swings open, Rossi lets out a whistle, “Look at you two kiddos!” Rossi hugs Spencer and he kisses you on both cheeks, “Bella.”

You giggle out a “thank you,” and then go to greet Hayden who’s donning a beautiful navy blue gown.

“Everyone else is already in the back,” she gives you a wink. 

You begin heading towards the backyard, Spencer right at your heels. With your shawl wrapped around your shoulders, you step outside and you’re beaming.

Rossi’s backyard as lights everywhere, a photobooth, a table lined with hors d'oeuvres and a punch bowl. Music is playing in the background as the team and their significant others mingle. All the while their children are running around playing with Luke’s dog Roxy. 

“Wow. This is nice. Wait-” Spencer then spots a banner that says BAU PROM, “Prom?” he turns to you with confusion in his eyes. 

You gave him a shrug, “You said you never got to experience prom, so now you can. And you’ll be surrounded by the people who love and care about you.”

“You did this?” he asks in disbelief.

“Well, yeah, but Derek, Penelope, and Rossi helped.”

“Reid!” Derek emerges from the group and Spencer’s eyes light up. He rushes to his big brother’s arms, getting a strong hug from him. 

You giggle as you move to greet Derek as well then moving to the rest of the group. Everyone looks at you in awe, “Woooow.”

“You look beautiful, my maroon goddess!” Penelope swoons, hugging you while also not trying to spill her glass of wine. 

“Thank you. For helping out and showing up. This is gonna be so fun!” you jump for joy as your coworkers and friends surround you. 

After mingling for about an hour, dinner is served and you all pick your designated tables. You don’t expect Spencer to sit with you, but he does anyway, pulling out your chair for you. 

At your table is Derek, Savannah, and Hank. You all make small talk, occasionally pausing to coo at little Hank who’s now two years old. 

An hour later, plates are cleared, drinks are flowing, and the music is booming. You dance with various people on the dancefloor while Spencer decides to spend some time with the kiddos. He doesn’t dance and you respect that. 

The music is now cut and Penelope has a mic in her hands, “Alright, everyone! It wouldn’t be a prom without a prom king and queen!”

You look at her with confusion and walk up to her, “Pen, we didn’t even vote.”

She gave you a mischievous grin, “We did. You didn’t. And by unanimous vote, our prom royalty is our very own Spencer Reid and Y/N L/N!”

Your eyes widen in shock as everyone bursts into hollers and applause. You laugh as you watch Penelope rush to Spencer and drag him towards you on the dancefloor. Hotch comes around with a plastic crowns for you, placing one on each of your heads. 

Everyone applauses again and Penelope announces, “Now, if the prom king and queen would like to make their way to the center of the dancefloor for their royal dance!”

You’re now suddenly nervous. You look to Spencer and give him a small smile, “We don’t have to dance, Spencer. It’s okay.”

“It’s alright,” he slips his hand into yours, “You did all of this for me. I can do this for you.” he tugs at your hand, bringing you to the center of the dancefloor. Everyone circles around you as you bring your hands to rest on Spencer’s shoulders and his hands rest on your hips. 

You sway to a cover of Frank Sinatra’s “The Way You Look Tonight”. Spencer is looking at you and you’re looking at him. And the world around you seems to fade away. 

“So...we’re BAU Prom royalty,” you state.

“Yeah. Looks like we are.”

“Have an idea what you’re gonna do now that you’re king?” you ask jokingly and Spencer licks his lips and gulp, “There are a lot of things that I want to do and say, but I’m not sure how.”

You hum, “Uneasy is the head that wears a crown.”

“Henry the fourth,” Spencer murmurs. 

“Yeah. I remember you said it was one of your favorites.” you look down, unable to handle Spencer’s gaze anymore.

The more you two slow dance together, the closer you guys seem to get. You’re completely unaware of the dancing couples around you or the fact that Penelope is anxiously waiting for something to happen. 

“Y/N?”

“Hm?” you look up and as soon as you do, Spencer’s lips on yours. You stop swaying as his hands cup your face and your hands move to grip the lapels of his suit jacket. 

On the sidelines, everyone is beaming from ear to ear, while Penelope is jumping for joy. JJ and Derek fist bump and Hotch and Rossi are just giving supportive smiles. 

When you pull away, you chuckle at the smeared lipstick on Spencer’s lips. You use his handkerchief to wipe away as much as you can while helps you.

You two don’t say anything, but go back to holding each other and swaying to the rest of the song. 

This may have been Spencer first and last prom he’ll ever attend, but it was certainly the best one ever. 

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine

[calteahood]

Killer Queen {Luke Hemmings}

Rating: M — Please be 18+ to read!

Warnings: SMUT! Includes daddy kink, spitting, spanking, light slapping (very light), & degrading terms.

Word Count: 2.6k

Author's Note: Hi! So, this is my first one shot for 5SOS. Starting with a bang. Here's some filth featuring our good man Luke, completely inspired by the photo above. Started writing this as soon as they posted it, and now this is finally being posted! Please please please share and give feedback! I look forward to hearing what you think! Thank you, enjoy! xx

It was no secret how sexually active you and Luke were. The number of times the boys had walked in on a backstage blowjob was astounding, and you were positive the tour crew members were tired of hearing you through hotel walls every single night. But hey, you couldn't help it. With your life back at home keeping you there it's not like you could visit your rock star of a boyfriend often. It's not like he was physically there all the time to give you all the orgasms you craved.

Plus, as you two furthered your relationship in general, your relationship in the bedroom only seemed to get more.. interesting. What started with missionary position and only doing it tangled in your bed sheets or laying on his couch turned into a whirlwind of kinks. From a position such as doggy style to openly calling him daddy, despite who could hear you in action, you wanted it all. And Luke was more than happy to give it to you whenever, and wherever, you pleased.

Being on the road with the boys didn't just mean great parties and amazing shows. It wasn't only seeing incredible views with your incredible boyfriend. Their band photographer has his camera rolling constantly, capturing moments 24/7. When the American leg of the tour came around, the tour you could actually come to visit for a few days, there was a poster for every show. Sometimes it was cool artwork, but other times the boys posed for the poster.

You were lucky enough to be on set during one specific shoot that drove you wild. With the new album came a new aesthetic, one where the guys happened to feel free to express themselves, even if it seemed a bit feminine at times. You loved it. The photoshoot set was simple, just a white background with a king's throne. The stylist did amazing with the boys, especially Luke, and you couldn't take your eyes off him. A burnt orange flowy button-up covered his torso, tucked into his white pants, and of course he had to wear his sparkly golden boots. Of course. He sat down in the throne, claiming his spot as frontman. It would only fuel his ego more, but he was confident and glowing, and you didn't mind a bit.

All throughout the photoshoot you couldn't help the pool between your legs. Luke really did look like a king, and you were living for his cocky demeanor as he sat on the throne.

Once the shoot was done the set crew began to put things away and the boys went to change out of their outfits into something casual until the concert later. Before following Luke you watched as two men set the throne into a storage room. You wouldn't be surprised if people could literally see the light bulb that popped up above your head, a mischievous grin forming on your lips.

Before Luke reached the dressing room you reached out for his hand. "Hey love, what'd ya think of the shoot?"

You smiled. "I'm sure Andy got some great shots. You guys looked good."

Luke chuckled, of course he looked good. He's worked so hard on being happy and healthy, he's proud to admit that he thinks he's hot shit after years of not knowing who he was. Really, you were thankful. You'd rather have a confident Luke with a hint of cocky instead of a boyfriend who felt lost and ugly in his own skin. "Thanks babe. And what'd you think about me?"

"Best looking one up there."

Kiss ass.

He smiled. "Thank you. I'm gonna head to the dressing room, get changed and chill out for a bit. Are you coming with me or gonna stay out here and wait?"

Now was your chance. You knew the tour team the band has wouldn't care if you two went off for a few (or more) minutes as long as you didn't take all day. Plus it was better than fucking on the bus where everyone could hear. All you had to worry about was Luke. You had to hope he would be down for your evil scheme. "Actually," you began, "I was wondering if you wanted to have a little fun with me?"

This made Luke's brows raise with curiosity, but he caught on to your naughty grin. He knew you were up to no good, and he loved it. "Depends. What kind of fun, little girl?"

Little girl… oh fuck. It felt almost pathetic. He had you in the palm of his hand with a simple pet name. You had to regain at least a bit of dominance, so you stood tall and confident. "Let me show you." He allowed you to lead him into the storage room, which was luckily unlocked, where the throne was placed. Other props for different photo shoots surrounded it, but the chair sat in the center of the room, basically asking to be used. You were definitely going to show him what kind of fun you had in mind. You carefully closed the door, making sure to lock it. Nodding your head to the center of the room, you quietly said, "Sit back on the throne, baby."

His smirk matched yours, proud to know that his girl had something so raunchy up her sleeve.

As he sat on the throne, untucking his shirt and setting his arms on the beautifully detailed armrests, you stood before him. The damn smirk could not leave your face. Without saying anything, you gently grabbed ahold of your lace panties through the fabric of your thin dress, tugging them down your thighs until they were visible and falling down your legs. Without taking your short heels off, you stepped out of the underwear, kicking them off to the side, before moving forward.

You straddled Luke's thighs, your legs slipping through the open arms of the throne so your feet could touch the ground. Thankfully you chose to wear a dress with a more flowy skirt, so it easily rode up, allowing your soaked core to rub against him. You rub your hands up and down his chest, feeling the soft fabric of his shirt. "You looked so good during the photoshoot, daddy.. still do," you mumble. He whispered a quiet thank you, then you spoke up again. "But you'd look so much better on this throne without anything on."

Before he could stop you, your hands gripped the front of his shirt, the part that should be buttoned up, but the boy loved showing off his chest. Without hesitation you pulled your hands apart, yanking open the shirt while little buttons went flying. His grin immediately turned into a frown, and with a low gasp he reached one hand up to roughly grab your jaw.

"Little girl, what is wrong with you? Ripping my shirt like that? I'll have to pay the stylist for that! Are you asking to be punished?" Luke growled, slightly shaking your head with his grip on your jaw.

You moved your hips, grinding against him. "Mmm.. maybe I am, daddy." Despite how mad he seemed at your little stunt you still let out a small giggle and gave him an innocent smile.

"Oh baby, you're in for it. Bet that's just what you want, though." The hand that wasn't holding you moved down to his belt, quickly unbuckling it before moving to undo his pants. He expertly pushed his pants down a bit, pulling his boxers along so his hard cock could spring out. He let out a deep groan at the feeling of freeing his cock from the tight confinements he had on. With the hand that was on your jaw he moved his thumb up to your bottom lip, pushing it against your mouth. "Suck," he demanded, "'m too pissed with you to hear you say anything else."

You happily obliged, allowing his thumb to slip between your soft lips. You moaned around it, swirling your tongue as if you were on your knees sucking him off. Suddenly he pulled his hand away, lifted your dress with his other, and placed his wet thumb roughly on your clit. "Fuck," you breathed out. Your hands slipped down, one wrapping around his cock while the other lightly caressed his balls.

His fingers slid down to your slit, his thumb never stopping its rapid motions, before pushing two fingers into you. The sudden feeling surprised you, but you would be lying if you said you didn't want him to go even harder on you. With both of your hands occupied on each other's bodies you whined. "Daddy, please, more."

A dark chuckle escaped his lips as he pushed in a third. His rings felt cool against the heat between your legs. The hand that held your dress up moved to your cheek, gently caressing it before giving you a couple light taps on the cheek. "You want to be punished so bad, wanna be fucked on this throne like a little slut," his fingers began to move in and out of you faster, bringing you closer to an edge that you so desperately needed, "I'll give you what you want, but don't be pouty when I make your pussy sore from how much you'll be cumming."

"I promise I'll be good daddy, just punish me!" You begged him, and he fell right into it.

Luke moved his hand out from under you, leaving you gasping, wanting something to fill you up. He grabbed onto the end of your dress, yanked it up to pull it off of you and throw it somewhere in the room. He reached behind you to undo the clasp of your bra, which quickly followed the dress. He took this time to caress up and down your sides, squeezing your tits a couple times before moving his hands down to your ass, gripping tightly. You leaned forward, spitting down onto his cock as lube so you could continue jerking him off. He groaned and pulled you closer to him, attaching your lips in a fierce kiss, clashing teeth and biting lips. With him pulling you closer it allowed the lower half of your body to rub against him. You moved your hands to wrap your arms around his neck, placing your pussy against his cock to grind down. Luke moved his hands from the soft flesh of your ass to your hips, grabbing at you roughly.

With both hands squeezing your hips he settled you right above his cock, his tip grazing against your slit, teasing you. It was as if he read your mind, because before you could beg him to put it in he was pushing you down, allowing your pussy to take him until your ass was pressed against his thighs. You both let out a moan, yours a bit more shaky due to how good his big cock felt in you. His arms slipped around you, holding you so you fell into his chest. Your head rested right under his chin as he bucked his hips up once, twice, him hitting it deep in you.

You began to bounce, the soft echo of your ass slapping against his pant-covered thighs. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you moaned into his chest. "Fuuuuck.. oh my— fuck, daddy," you mumbled out.

He reached a hand up to yank on your hair, pulling your head back so that he could look down, directly looking at you. His blue eyes were clouded over with lust as his lips pulled into a devilish smirk. "Open your mouth, princess."

You did as you were told, poking your tongue out. Your hips never faltered, continuing to ride him. He leaned his head down slightly, his grip on your hair getting stronger. When he was no more than two inches away from you he spat into your mouth.

"Close those lips, slut. Swallow like a good girl and maybe then I'll let you swallow my cum too." He yanked your hair once more as he gave you your order. His hands slipped to your hips against, forcing you down on him harder than before. One moved to graze your ass before slapping it. "Count, slut." He slapped your ass again.

"That's two, daddy," you whimpered out. He continued his assault, loving hearing you whine for him. The words, how shaky you sounded. "Three, f-four… five!"

You felt his fingers move to your pussy, thumbs slipping in between your moving bodies to grasp onto your lower lips, spreading them apart and allowing him more access to you. You couldn't help but moan out, only wanting to feel him deeper and deeper.

He chuckled. "Desperate for me in your tight cunt, huh?"

You nodded vigorously. "Yes daddy! More, please more!" You begged and begged, forehead resting against his. You felt him readjust the way he was sitting, making sure his feet were planted firmly on the ground before quickly thrusting up into you, hitting your spot perfectly. "Oh my— fuck! Daddy!"

"Cum on my cock, little girl. Hurry so I can cum down that pretty throat of yours, or else I will take you across my knee and spank you till you can't sit," he threatened. While the ladder sounded amazing, knowing how much you both loved spanking, you wanted him to fuck your face a bit. Really punish you, because you knew damn well that you deserved it after acting like a brat and ripping his shirt. Or maybe you just wanted to be treated like his little slut. Both options sounded spot on.

You bounced faster as his thrusts grew stronger, meeting your center each time snapped his hips up. "Yes daddy, fuck I'm gonna cum. Fuck fuck fuck!" Like that, you feel yourself release, cumming all over his cock. You slowed down your movements, breathing heavy. You couldn't help it, you just had one of the best orgasms of your life. Each time with Luke was amazing, but when he was bossy and dominated you, treating you like a little whore… You knew you shouldn't admit to it, but it turned you on more than you could ever imagine. You loved being daddy's little slut.

He suddenly pulled you off of his lap, staying in his seat but pushing you down onto your knees, grabbing your hair with one hand to push your head towards him. "Open your mouth, little one," he ordered. Of course, you complied. You open your mouth wide, sticking your tongue out, allowing him to shove your head down onto his cock. Instead of thrusting up into your mouth, he used his grip on your hair to move your head up and down, controlling how much of him you took. He gave you a few seconds to catch your breath and suck on the tip, before you heard him give an animal-like growl and shove as much of him down your throat as he could. He did this twice more before groaning and cumming into your mouth. Once he was done you pulled off of him, swallowing then opening your mouth to show that you took every last drop.

Sighing, he leaned back into the throne as one of his hands caressed your cheek, slipping his thumb into your mouth for you to gently suck on. "Little girl, you make me feel like a damn king sometimes, you know that?"

You giggled, moving back up onto his lap. "I'm happy to, daddy. As long as I'm your queen."

With that, he gave a playful slap to your ass. "Of course you are baby, daddy's little queen." He brought you in for a kiss, much sweeter than before, sealing the promise that though he's the one on the throne, he'd do anything for his girl; his queen.

That's for damn sure.

#i'm posting this at night sorry for any errors #but i hope you liked it! #follow & like & reblog please bc i'm super new and would love the support #and please let me know what you thought! #5sos fanfic #5sos one shot #5sos imagine #5sos smut #luke hemmings fanfic #luke hemming imagines #luke hemmings oneshot #luke hemmings smut #5seconds of summer smut #calum hood smut #michael clifford smut #ashton irwin smut #i know it's not smut about them but i'm trying to get this out there sorry! #calum hood oneshot #michael clifford one shot #ashton irwin oneshot #luke hemmings one shot #calum hood one shot #ashton irwin one shot #michael clifford oneshot #5 seconds of summer imagines #5 seconds of summer oneshot #5 seconds of summer one shot #luke hemmings fan fic #5sos fan fic #5sos preferences

[hollandsmushroom]

I Miss You

Heyo yet another piece of work dedicated to @heartbreak-5sos cause, ya know, they give a lot of inspiration!!

Word Count: 1,298

Summary: You have been missing Luke and text him while he is at the studio, after receiving the text he decides to surprise you

Warnings: Soft Fluff but thats not something to warn about so no

Luke was at the studio recording and you were at home, in sweatpants and a baggy shirt, watching some shit show on tv. You and Luke had seemed to be in two different worlds as of late, and it wasn’t that you were in anyway questioning his love for you because, he still held you close at night, you might just have already been asleep for 3 hours when he joins you, he still eats the food that you make so he doesn’t microwave eggs, he might just have to heat it up after its gone cold. You just missed him, thats all, no doubt had crept into your mind, it was just a longing to have the man that you love with you. And tonight you didn’t want to fall asleep before he got home, you wanted to spend time with him,it had been so long, but you were worried that like the last few nights, you would try and stay up to talk to him but end up asleep on the couch and have Luke carry you up to your shared bed. You wanted to tell him about your need for his presence at the moment, but you also really didn’t want to interrupt the great work that he was doing. You resorted to a simple text, the three words that could be interpreted in many ways depending on how you read them, desperate, loving, needy, clingy. The text read a simple ‘I miss you’, followed quickly by a ‘I know you probably wont see this until much later tonight, I will try and stay up to wait for you, but Petunia is much better at doing that than I am’ and a final ‘I love you’. You shut off your phone, with the disappointing belief that you would once again fall asleep on the couch waiting on your love, looming over your head.

-----

Luke was sitting outside the recording booth, spinning in one of the chairs that sat behind the sound board, looking at his phone when it buzzed in his hand.

His nickname for you appeared on the screen followed by three words, the three words that broke his heart to read, the ones that he never wanted for you to have to say, especially when he wasn’t on tour. The text was quickly replaced with more words from you, an attempted promise at staying up to see him. As quickly as they had arrived the words were replaced by another set, the three words that still made his heart skip a beat knowing that it was you sending them, it made him glow from the inside and a smile crack across his face at the fact that someone as amazing as you, loved him.

He stood up from his chair, shrugging his jacket onto his shoulders, having decided to surprise you,

“Hey, mate, where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Calum called through the speaker of the recording booth, Luke turned around quickly at his bandmates words, leaning down and pressing the button on the microphone at his end.

“To see Y/n, they need me right now, and if I am being honest, I need them as well,”

“Okay then, mate, see ya tomorrow,” Cal called after him as Luke walked out the door. Bending his tall ass down to get into his car and start to make his way back home to you.

----

You were sat on the couch, still watching the shit tv show, nursing a very large mug of tea, Petunia sprawled across your legs fast asleep as you slowly started to drift off to sleep. You thought you heard a key in the door but assumed it was a part of your dream because Luke couldn’t possibly be home.

You stayed that way, your head lolled to the side and eyes closed, that was until you felt the couch dip next to you, your eyes shot open and your head turned at the speed of whiplash to meet his crystal blue ones. You tried to reach over for him but Petunia whined at your sudden movement, the weight of her body holding you down. Luke chuckled at your eagerness to see him, and looking in your eyes he realized just how much he had truly missed you and how desperate he was just to hold you in his arms while you were awake.

“Hi babe,” he spoke

“Luke, what are you doing home, aren’t you supposed to be at the studio?” you spoke, finally wiggling your way out from underneath the bulldog terrier and into Luke’s arms, your legs on either side of him and face buried in his neck.

“I got your text, I realized how distant I have been lately and I wanted to come home and just cuddle and remind you how much I love you and need you in my life,” removing you face from the crook of his neck you returned to looking in his eyes.

“I love you Luke, I love you so goddamn much,” leaning in, you placed a tender kiss to his lips. You stayed this way for a while, your lips moving in sync with his, not getting more heated, just more loving and tender, it was slow and intentional, the way his hands moved there way up and down your sides, finding a final resting place on your hips. Your hands were splayed on his chest, spread wide as your finger tips pressed into is chest lightly, reminding yourself that he was here, and he was yours to love on forever.

His lips left yours as he started to readjust, moving his hips slightly and hooking his arms underneath your thighs he stood up, you securely in his arms, making his way to the bed the two of you shared. He laid you down, joining you very soon after he had removed his button down and pants.

He hopped on the bed, taking his place next to you, pulling you closer to him so you were face to face. He ducked down into the crook of your neck, placing feather light kisses there.

“I missed you too Y/n, so fucking much,” he mumbled into the hot flesh of your neck, his lips becoming harsher as he started to suck on the skin. The feeling was strong and you knew he was leaving marks on your there, he loved to do so and you groaned at the feeling. You knew you would have purple bruises all over your neck tomorrow, but you really didn’t care, you just wanted to be with him, to hold him in your arms and remind yourself that he loved you as much as you loved him. You pulled him closer, running your hands through his hair, playing with the curls at the nape of his neck.You could have stayed this way forever, lost in each other, so involve that nothing mattered, the heat of intimacy without sex filled the room. Much to your disappointment his lips left your neck as he kissed his way back up your neck, running his tongue along your jawline and back to your lips, reattaching his lips to your similarly swollen ones as your tongues fell into their familiar dance against one another. The passion in the moment was evident but so was the exhaustion in the both of you. His body was giving into the peace of relaxation that kissing you gave him and yours was doing the same. Slowly the both of you faded off to sleep, mouths having fell apart from one another, but your body still held tight in his arms, as though holding you so closely could make up for all the missing the two of you had been doing.

#luke hemmings #lukehemmingsoneshots #lukehemmings #lukehemmingsblurb #luke hemming imagines #5 seconds of summer #5secondsofsummer #luke 5sos #luke 5 seconds of summer #5sos fluff #lukehemmings fluff #luke #luke hemmings one shot #lukehemmings oneshot #cute #fluff #oneshots #5sos one shot #5 seconds of summer one shot #luke hemmings x reader #luke hemmings x reader smut #luke hemmings fanfic

[itisannak]

Daddy (Ashton Irwin Smut)

Summary: Someone hits at (Y/N) during a party, to which Ashton responds by making her feel euphoric in a bathroom. Based on Sexual Prompt #62: "Open those legs, I want a taste" (Smut / Oral; female receiving) (Request) (Words: 1.9k)

"Do you think you will be ready for Luke's party by 9, kitten?" Ashton asks me, averting his gaze from his phone. I sit on the edge of the bed, grabbing my lotion from the vanity and turn to look at him. "I think I will be fine. My glam squad is going to be here at 6 so I will have plenty of time!" I say and Ashton chuckles. "I miss the days I watched you do your hair and makeup yourself. Remember princess? I used to bend you over that sink in your old bathroom, pull your panties to the side and fuck you until you were numb..." He teases me, sitting up and crawling towards me, planting a kiss on the base of my neck. "Ugh, my makeup used to turn out one huge mess back then..." I say and giggle. "Mmm, you still looked hot though... And now you have your own glam squad... I am so proud of you, kitten..." He praises me, pilling off my dressing gown, to place kisses further down my back. "Thank you, daddy." I tease, making Ashton groan. "Lay on your back for daddy, princess." He orders and I sigh, trying to contain myself. "We really don't have that much time." I protest but Ashton growls. "What did I say, princess?" He asks me and I gulp, feeling the heat rising in my stomach and between my legs, just from my boyfriend using a bit lower voice on me. "On your back, now." He growls again in my ear. My eyes roll to the back of my head, all of my guards shuttering.

I crawl backward and lay on my back, getting comfortable as Ashton crawls and hovers above me. His fingers undo my dressing gown's belt, making the soft material slide from my chest and pool to my sides. "That's what I like to see..." He smirks to himself, taking in my naked body. "Look at you, princess..." He says and traces my skin with his fingertips, sending chills down my spine. His hand travels up to cup my chin, leaning in to kiss me. Of course, the kiss is no different than all the other times he is in his daddy mode; his tongue is invading my mouth, making sure to gain dominance from the very first moment. I know better than to try and resist him; I want him to pleasure me and if I try to protest, he will make sure to take that away from me. His nails dig in the skin of my hipbones, watching me shiver. He bites on my bottom lip and pulls it a bit, mixing pain with pleasure. I feel vulnerable and exposed to him; he has every control of my body, without even trying. He begins grinding his hips on mine, his briefs boxers causing friction on my clit. "See how hard daddy is for you, princess?" He asks me, still cupping my jaw. My breath hitches as he presses his hips more on me, his bulge getting harder and harder every passing moment. "And you are soaking wet, princess/ Who made you so wet, doll?" He asks me, looking into my eyes, with lust clouding his. "You, daddy." I reply moaning, making Ashton grin smugly. "Oh princess, you know what to say to get me going." He says and strokes my cheek. "What should I do with that tight little pussy, princess? Should I pound it with my cock and cum on your pretty face? Or should I fuck you senselessly, cum inside you and make you go to the party with my cum inside your, dripping down your leg?" He growls, making me shiver. It won't be the first, and it won't be the last time that Ashton will make me go in public with no panties and cum dripping down my thigh. He just adores that kind of control over my body.

Before anything happens, my phone rings, making me snap towards it. "Let it ring." Ashton groans. "It's my hairstylist and makeup artist. They are probably here. Can you go buzz them in while I put something on?" I ask Ashton as I sit up and sprint to the closet. "I am not done with you yet, princess." Ashton states, slipping in his clothes.

"Do you want another drink, kitten?" Ashton asks me as I sip the last bit of my vodka soda. "Yes, please." I say and smile, giving him my solo cup. He takes it and walks to the drinks counter.

The moment Ashton is a few feet away from me, a guy approaches me, passing me a cup. "Um, no thanks. My boyfriend is bringing me a new one." I say as politely as I can while the guy eyes me up and down. "Boyfriend? Come on, you are too pretty to be locked down." He says, bringing his hand to stroke my face, but fails as I dodge him. "I do though..." I say, scanning the room for any signs of Ashton. "Your loss..." He says, cocking an eyebrow. "I think I can live with that kind of devastation." I say and give him a cold smile. "Oh, come on. He doesn't even have to know. Just give me your number." He says, trying to make a move again. I shift to avoid him. "Yeah, that's not going to happen, buddy." I say, trying to remain calm. "Stop being a bitch and just give me your number." He says, becoming more threatening. "She said it's not going to happen." Ashton says, coming next to me. "And why do you care?" The guy asks cockily. "I am her boyfriend, who is totally capable of slamming your face on that wall, if you don't back off, now." Ashton replies, completely calm. The guy clenches his jaw and looks at us disgusted. "Whatever, she is ugly anyway." He says before he turns and leaves. I burst out laughing, Ashton doing the same. "And he thought he had a chance with you..." He says, pecking on my forehead. "Don't be mean. If I wasn't with you..." "What, you would have given him your number? Princess, I have essentially ruined you for every other man. You have no choice but staying with me, kitten." He says chuckling. "Is that so?" I ask, inches away from him. He just smirks and grabs my wrist, guiding me to the back of the house.

Once we've reached the small bathroom, he shoves me in and locks the door. "My pretty girl..." He whispers, pressing me against the door. "Hey, daddy..." I tease him as I lean in to kiss him. "Sounds so good coming from your lips, princess." He whispers against my lips. He pins my wrists above my head as his face lowers to my neck. "I love that dress on you." He mumbles, pushing my neckline further down, revealing my bralette. "Well, look at that." "A little something for daddy." I whisper, smiling at him. "It is much appreciated..." He replies, snapping my strap against my skin. I hiss and he hums, his eyes ravishing my body. "How much, daddy?" I ask; Ashton licks his lips, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear.

He doesn't reply; he just kneels in front of me, stroking my leg with his fore and middle finger. I look at him mesmerized; he is dominating, even with a simple touch, a simple glance, a purse of his lips. His mouth traces the part of my inner thigh that is visible from my short dress. Chapped lips create friction against my skin, preparing me for when his teeth are going to sink in the flesh. Which doesn't take much time to occur; he begins with soft nibbles, almost grazing his teeth against my skin before he raises the hem of my dress to mark with bites the hidden part of my thigh. The sensation is too much for me; I feel my nipples peek through the thin layer of lacy bralette, my thighs pressing together to send a little pressure to my core. "Kitten, open those legs, I want a taste." He orders, his lips grazing my clothed center with every word. I gasp at his words. following his demand quickly after the waistband of my panties. He pushes them down, tracing my legs on the way to tease me. Once the garment rests around my ankles, he picks it up and smirks at me, placing them in his back pocket. "A little trophy for daddy." He comments and I look at him with my lips parted and cheeks flushed. I gulp down harshly as he maintains eye contact. His eyes are darker, his face tensed and skin almost burning. With no warning, he brings his lips to my pussy; of course, he is not willing to give me what I crave, just yet. He kisses my crotch softly, spreading kisses from my lower stomach to the edge before my clit. I sigh frustrated and he seems to enjoy that. By this point, I know hat I am dripping; I feel my wetness run down my thigh. Ashton seems to notice that and it makes him grin deviously from ear to ear. He sticks his tongue against my clit and moves it back and forth, pressing lightly on it. My eyes roll to the back of my head as I throw my head back and release a groan. "Spread your legs more, princess." He demands with a hard slap on my ass before he buries his face back in my pussy. He licks my slit with the flat of his tongue, focusing on my clit with the tip of his tongue to tease me. He moves his head from side to side, humming against my bundle of nerves. My fingers tangle in his locks, pulling at them as he curls his tongue.

The moment he thrusts his tongue inside me, I feel the knot in my stomach form. All the teasing and the stimulation building up inside my stomach, makes me think that I won't last long before I am driving over my edge from his magic mouth. But of course, Ashton doesn't have to know about that; depending on his mood, if I am close, he might stop his actions just to tease me some more. "How does it feel baby?" He asks, smiling at me from down there. "So good... Please, let me cum..." I whimper, pulling his hair to bring his face closer to my center. "Of course babygirl." He chuckles and I almost lose it.

I grind my pussy on his face and groan as I try to build my orgasm. Ashton is sucking on my clit, running his tongue over the head of it. My legs feel jelly, but I try to hold back a little longer, just for the high to be greater. I squirm and my body jiggles as Ashton sucks harder, making my mind fuzzy. I cum on his lips, screaming in ecstasy as he keeps on licking me to prolong my orgasm. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, this is so good..." I pant as my hips thrust involuntarily. I feel Ashtin smirk before he stands up and brings his lips to mine as his hands lower the hem of my dress. "We are walking out of here and we say goodbye. Then, I am taking you home and I am fucking you until your legs give out and the neighbors know my name. Alright, princess?" He asks, cupping my jaw hard. "Yes, daddy."

My Masterlist

#ashton irwin #ashton fletcher irwin #ashton 5sos #ashton irwin imagine #ashton irwin smut #ashton irwin smut imagine #ashton irwin smutty imagine #ashton irwin smutty #5sos #5sos imagine #5sos smut #5sos smut imagine #5sos smutty #5sos smutty imagine #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer smut #5 seconds of summer smut imagine #5 seconds of summer smutty #5 seconds of summer smutty imagine #smut #imagine #smut imagine #smutty imagine #smutty

[oh-to-imagine]

Can you write something angsty that turns sweet and fluffy with Luke Skywalker? Thanks for being back, I'm happy to see you!

A.N. I hope the ending is fluffy enough for you! Thanks for requesting my favorite farmboy jedi~ 

Takes place after an incident where the reader got hurt by one of the emperors men in an attempt to get to Luke.

It was one of those rare moments in the rebel base that could almost qualify as ‘quiet’, though the term didn’t quite fit. It was never really quiet, there was always something to do, a rebellion never slept. But at the moment there was no space-side dog fights with imperial cruisers, no immanent threat of having to evacuate due to probe droids being detected on the planets surface. Normally you’d welcome the calm moment, relish it as a moment to spend with the man you loved.

Right now it just reminded you of the void his absence left.

You allowed this to be a moment of self pity, running your thumb over the pendant he had given you just some months ago as a birthday present. You knew Leia would give you some assignment or another to distract you if she saw your current  gloomy state, but you were in a more confrontational mood and unless the mission involved punching something it wouldn’t do any good.

When you heard R2-D2 round the corner you knew Luke wouldn’t be far behind, so you rose, the pendant digging into the flesh of your palm as you clutched it. R2 seemed to freeze when he noticed you standing in the corridor, giving an uncomfortable beep and surging forward on his wheels at a suddenly high speed.

“Where are you speeding off to all of the sudde-” Luke cut himself short when he saw you standing there, his eyes going wide. For a jedi master who was meant to harness his emotions, he certainly liked to avoid the after math of his actions like the plague.

“We need to talk.” you said simply. God, how many times had you said that over the last two weeks?

Luke shook his head, already stepping into a retreat back down the hallway. “I already told you, there’s nothing to talk about.”

Gritting your teeth you stepped between him and the door. “Oh don’t worry, I’m not here to try prying answers from you for the dozenth time. No matter how much I deserve them.” Two weeks. Two weeks since he had told you that your relationship was over. Two weeks since he had broken your heart and refused to tell you why. No reasoning, not even a ‘it’s not you it’s me’ excuse, just this empty ‘I’m sorry’ as he left you in the med wing to heal from your last mission.

“Then what-”

“I’m here to return this.” You cut across him, holding out the pendant. And a surge of anger wrestled in the pit of your stomach when a hurt look crossed his face. He dared to look hurt after- when he was the one who broke your heart!?

“That…that was a gift, you shouldn’t feel the need to return it.” he said, his voice low and failing to hide the hurt that flickered in his blue eyes.

“I’m not going to keep it. You gave it to me because we were together and-” you had to take a deep breath to avoid your voice cracking with emotion “If what we had together didn’t mean anything to you, than neither did this, and I don’t want it.”

Maybe all this was petty, you weren’t sure. All you knew was that if he was going to avoid you and act like the last two years you spent together meant nothing, well, you weren’t going to leave any doubt in his mind that you were going to move on out of sheer spite if nothing else.

Luke ran a hand through his hair “It’s a charm to ward off danger” he repeated a clinical version of the tale he told you when he first gave it to you “you should keep it if just to have something that might protect you when you’re out on the field.”

“Why can’t you just listen to what I want?!” the bitterness made the words snap out at him like an ill tempered tauntaun. “I don’t want it when all I think about is you when I look at it.”

One stride forward and you were shoving it into his palm. One glimpse of the shock and pain striking his features before you turned on your heel and walked away.

That night you were laying in your bunk, worried you would have yet another restless night instead of sleep. When someone knocked on your door you thought about ignoring it, but the thought that it may be someone there to discuss something important made you crawl out of bed and answer.

You were not expecting Luke to be standing on the other side. he looked…desperate, eyes tired and red with emotion and a brow furrowed with…conviction perhaps?

Stunned, you were about to ask what he was doing, when he surged forward, cupping your face in his hands and pressing familiar lips to yours. It only took a moment to get over the shock and soon you were tangling your fingers in his sandy blonde hair, pulling his body against yours as he moved with you, deeper into your quarters letting the door slide shut.

His lips moved to trail kissed along your jaw before they pressed against your ear. “I’m sorry.” he whispered “I’m so sorry I hurt you.”

As much as you wanted him to continue the frenzy of kisses, answers needed to come first. “Why? I still don’t understand Luke.” Pulling back slightly, you looked into his eyes. “We were fine and suddenly, you just… didn’t want me anymore. Now your back to holding me and telling me you’re sorry?”

He adverted his gaze, casting it off to the side, ashamed. “I was…I guess I was punishing myself. When you ended up hurt during our last mission on Yavin…” he let out a curse and laid  his forehead against your shoulder. “It was my fault you got hurt. I couldn’t get to you in time and he hurt you to get to me. I should have gone with you, I should have sensed the danger- but I didn’t. I thought…I thought letting you go, cutting myself off from you would help keep you safe. I thought you deserved better.”

“You… are such an idiot sometimes.” there wasn’t any venom in the words. You moved so he was looking into your eyes again. “You may be a jedi, but even you can’t protect me from everything. We’re fighting a war, Luke, sometimes things are going to go wrong, and when they do, I want you by my side.”

He placed a small kiss on your forehead, whispering “I know that now, I’m sorry. Will you forgive me?”

“Depends. What made you have this realization?”

When he held up the pendant you had practically thrown at him that morning you knew what he was going to say. “When you gave this back to me, I realized that it was really over, that I had really thrown away one of the best connections in my life and that you were trying to move on. I couldn’t stop thinking about you with someone else and…”

You let him trail off, occupying him instead with another passionate kiss. The anger, the heartbreak, it melted away with every moment of the embrace, every inch his hands trailed over your back, every ‘I’m sorry’ he whispered as he pressed desperate kisses over your cheeks, neck, brow.

You were sure a more in-depth conversation about  his actions needed to be had, but for now, for now you were content just to have him in your arms again.

#Luke Skywalker #luke skywalker imagine #luke skywalker x reader #star wars #star wars imagine #star wars x reader #Prequel Trilogy

[noodlecupcakes]

Friendly Advice (Kylo RenxOC Smut)

Another quick smutty one shot featuring Kylo and my OC Cora (face claim is Elizabeth Olsen). 

Warnings: NON-CON ELEMENTS (DONT LIKE, DONT READ), Manipulation, Kylo is not nice, Kylo is a manipulative shit, Loss of virginity, Virginity kink, Sex against a wall, Sex, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Language 

Cora’s P.O.V

After what felt like a lifetime we had finally won the war. The First Order had finally been defeated and eradicated all except one. Ben. He'd been captured and was due to go on trial for his crimes within the week. We all knew what the outcome would be. He'd be executed because he'd be too stubborn to plead guilty. Leia and I had pleaded with the jury and if he pleaded guilty to his crimes then he would be exiled. Leia had already visited him, but he hadn't said a word to her. Now it was my turn. Saying I was nervous was an understatement.

Ben and I had been childhood friends, both trained to become Jedi by Luke. I would have done anything for Ben at that point and I probably would now. I loved him when we were growing up and somehow, I still loved him through everything. I was scared to enter that room, scared to confront my childhood friend, scared that maybe there was nothing I could do to save him. I had to remain hopeful, I would not give up on him. I still believed that Ben was still in there somewhere.

I unlocked his cell and stepped inside, making sure the door closed behind me. Ben was sat on the makeshift bed, looking down at the floor so that his hair hung in front of his face. I swallowed thickly, wanting to run my fingers through his soft looking hair. I had only seen him once through all this back when this war really started, when Rey came to help us. “Ben?” I spoke softly. “It’s Kylo,” he corrected, “or Supreme Leader.” “Unfortunately, not anymore.”

I could feel his anger radiate off him in waves. He could kill me with no more than a thought if he wanted. “I hope they weren't too rough with you,” I continued. Ben looked t me this time, revealing his face to me. They'd given him a black eye and a split lip. The scar running across his face had healed as well as it could do. “I’m sorry, your mother and I asked them not to hurt you,” I apologized. “She's not my mother anymore. She gave up that title when she gave me away to Luke.” Ok that was not an argument I wanted to get in with him at a time like this, we'd just be running around in circles about whether or not his parents loved him. They did and he should be grateful he had parents unlike me.

“Why did you come here?” Ben asked. “To offer you some friendly advice. When it comes to the trial you need to plead guilty. They'll let you live if you do.” “But they'll exile me to some rock on the outer rim where I can live out the rest of my days alone?” “You'd have an island all to yourself with nobody to bother you.” “I’d rather not copy Skywalker in becoming a hermit.” I sighed, here comes the stubbornness.

“So, you'd rather die?” I asked. “Why do you care what happens to me?” “Because I still believe that my best friend is still in there.” He rolled his eyes, “Ben Solo is gone. Your friend is gone.” I smiled softly, shrugging, “you can tell me that as much as you want, I’m still not giving up on you.” “I’m a murderer Cora, I killed all of your fellow padawans and I enjoyed every second of it,” he snarled. “You’re going to need to do more than that to get me to give up on you. I’m not scared of you like the others.”

His expression darkened, “you should be.” “Why? Because you’ll kill me too?” Kylo chuckled darkly, “no, something much worse for you.” Silence fell between us. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. Kylo resumed looking at the floor instead of me. “Do you remember the day that we first met? How scared you were of everyone else? You sat in the corner and cried because you thought you’d never see you parents again. I was the only one who could actually calm you down-“ I started. “Don’t,” his voice sounded softer.

“Or what about when we found the Kyber crystal cave together? Our crystals were in there together, if that isn’t a sign that-“ “I said don’t,” his voice wavered a little. I felt my heart sink, I didn’t want to upset him but I had to get through to him. I heard him emit a barely audible sob. “Did he tell you what he tried to do to me? The night the Jedi temple fell?” He sobbed. I felt myself taking a few steps towards him. I wanted to comfort him, hold him close and tell him that everything was going to be ok. I wouldn’t let another person hurt him.

“He tried to kill me Cora, my own uncle tried to murder me in my sleep. What was I supposed to do after that? I couldn’t stay part of the Jedi order, there was no place for me anymore,” he continued. Luke had told me what he had tried to do, years later. I couldn’t forgive him for that. “I can’t sleep at night because I’m afraid that someone else will try to do the same thing,” Ben managed. I kneeled in front of him, placing my hands on his shoulders hoping he would look at me. “That’s not going to happen. I’m not going to let anybody hurt you Ben,” I reassured him.

His sobbing slowly came to a stop and he looked up at me, his eyes completely dry. I frowned as he smirked, this had been a trick. He grabbed my wrists, his leather clad fingers digging into my flesh almost painfully. “You thought you could get me to change by reminding me of my childhood? Your pathetic,” he spat. I tried to pull free from his grasp but he only continued to dig his fingers in, pulling me closer towards him. “I’ve seen what’s in your mind Cora. All the dirty little thoughts a Jedi shouldn’t have. Especially for someone like me. Do the others know? No of course they don’t, they would have cast you out a long time ago if they did,” he taunted.

“Ben stop, let me go,” I spoke, my voice sounding small. His eyes searched mine and then I felt him inside my mind, looking through my thoughts like the pages of a book. I tried to force him out but we both knew I wasn’t strong enough. “You stayed pure for me. All these years. I really am going to enjoy this,” he grinned wickedly. I managed to break free of his grip and crossed the room in a few quick steps. He followed, slamming me into the nearest wall. I made a small sound of pain and he turned me round to face him, trapping me between him and the wall. I felt so small compared to him as he loomed over me.

“Why fight it? We both know it’s what you want.” He taunted. “Not like this, Ben I came here to help you.” “Then help me,” he rested his hands on the wall beside my head before coming closer and pressing his lips to my neck, making his way up to my ear, “give me a reason to live,” the last part came out as a threat. If giving myself over to him made him plead guilty when it came to the trial…fine. I’d do it. He tilted my chin to make me meet his gaze. He had me right where he wanted me. Ben leaned down and kissed me, his hand moving down to my neck.

I shivered at the feel of the cold leather against my skin, kissing him back with inexperience. He took the lead, claiming my lips with his. Ben nipped at my bottom lip, earning a soft whine from me. He pulled away, that intense gaze meeting mine once more. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for you. Funny how the threat of me being executed makes you confess your feelings,” he spoke. Not wanting to waste any more time, he began tugging at my robes. I mirrored his actions, removing his own clothes.

Once we were fully undressed he reached between my legs, finding my clit. I moaned, one hand fisting in his dark locks and the other gripping his forearm. He slipped two thick digits into me, starting a fast pace. My eyes closed instinctively as I let out a series of moans. Kylo clamped his free hand down over my mouth to keep me quiet. Anybody could walk past outside and hear us. He continued working me open with his fingers for a few minutes as I continued to cling to him and moan against the palm of his hand.

Ben removed his fingers and sucked them clean before picking me up and wrapping my legs around his waist. I wrapped my arms around him, clinging to him with the worry that he might drop me. He pressed my back against the wall, using it as leverage to hold me up. I glanced down at his cock, wondering how the hell something that size was going to fit inside me. I didn’t have long to think about it however as he slowly pushed himself into me. My nails dug into his shoulders as I moaned at the feeling of him stretching me to accommodate him. Ben’s grip on my hips became hard enough to bruise as he bit down on his bottom lip, groaning as he bottomed out.

He kissed me hard, groaning against my lips. He started rocking his hips against mine, placing open mouthed kisses across my neck and shoulders. I grabbed a fistful of his hair, clinging to him as if my life depended on it. Ben’s pace started to pick up, getting faster and harder until eventually he was practically fucking me into the wall. He pulled my hips down to meet him each thrust, the sound of skin on skin filling the small space. My nails ran down his back, earning a loud groan from him.

This is far from how I imagined my first time would be and it was going to be over sooner than I would have liked too. Ben sucked a purple mark into my neck, high enough that it would be on show for everyone to see. Everyone would know that I had fucked a war criminal. They’d probably exile me too. Ben brought me out of my thoughts as he sucked another purple mark into my breast. I arched and bucked against him, desperate for the torturous pleasure to never end.

I moaned his name, forcing that intense gaze on me once more. I half expected him to scold me for not using his preferred term but instead he just kissed me again. I felt an unfamiliar tightness begin to build in my stomach as Ben continued the pace, his speed not faltering once. He reached between us and found my clit again, rubbing it in quick circles. I felt my eyes roll back in their sockets and I let out a loud gasp. I had no idea he could make me feel this good. A few more strokes and I reached my first climax, crying out his name as my legs shook from the intense feeling.

Ben cursed as my orgasm triggered his own. He buried his face in my neck as he came down from his high. Eventually he let me down and we both redressed ourselves in silence. Not only had I fucked a war criminal, I’d just fucked the general’s son. I could feel the embarrassment already on my cheeks. Ben sat back down on the makeshift bed and I turned, heading to the door. “If I’m too be exiled, will you come with me?” He asked. Throw everything I had away just to spend the rest of my days with him? “Yes.”

Taglist: @genevievedarcygranger, @warriorqueen1991, @jeffreydeanneganstrash, @thegentlemanpigeon, @paeton-nygmobblepot, @paetonnn, @srj1990, @hannah-leighhh, @littlefreakingfangirl, @helloitsmepeanutbuter, @btrombley13, @greeneyedthief, @wandering-rosebud, @purplemuse, @bugalouie, @gobemywonderwall, @sherrybaby14, @xxwarhawk, @pyxie27, @mistersprincess1116, @papinegan, @livybaby115, @maddekat, @itsallintheeyeofthebeholder, @clear-skiez, @pearlescentnirvana, @prncesskte, @maddekat

#kylo ren #kylo #ben solo #adam driver #kylo ren smut #kylo smut #ben solo smut #kyloxoc #kylo renxoc #ben soloxoc #star wars #kylo ren angst #kylo ren feels #kylo ren fluff #star wars smut #star wars the force awakens #star wars the last jedi #the force awakens #the last jedi #tlj #tfa

[itsaudreyhornebitch]

Kastle College Professors AU Chapter 5--THE END

(A/N: WHoops, I lied. There will be an epilogue. Also this is 18+)

READ ON AO3 HERE

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Epilogue

“Okay, so explain to me again exactly what happened last night—because I’m still a little bit confused here.” Trish was staring at Karen over the rim of her martini, her eyes narrowed in that determined look she got when she was trying to crack a lead. Like there was no escaping her questioning.

“I’ve told you every detail five times now,” Karen groaned, barely resisting the urge to let her head drop to the table with a thud. Instead, she occupied her hands stirring the straw round and round her vodka cranberry, watching the wedge of lime she’d thrown in swirl about. “We talked, there was tension, I thought he was going to—I don’t know—kiss me or something, and then he had to leave. What’s there to be confused about?”

“If the ‘tension’ was as sexually-charged as you say it was, then I’m confused about how on earth Frank could have just walked away from you like that?” Trish used a toothpick to stab the olive in her drink, waving it about for emphasis. “I mean, come on. He’s only human. And you’re you.” She gestured at Karen with the olive, and a few drops of martini went flying.

“Well, like I said, he—”

“Oh my god,” Karen was interrupted by a loud and impatient groan from Jessica Jones, who was sagging in her chair looking painfully disinterested. “When you invited me to go for a drink, I thought we’d actually have fun. Not sit around all night dissecting the play-by-play of Karen’s almost kiss.” She ran a hand down her tired face. “I feel like I’m at a sleepover and we’re about to pull out a game of Dream Phone. Kill me now.”

“Come on, Jess. How can you not be interested in this? It’s like a real-life romantic drama. All the pining and the tension and the ‘will-they-won’t-they.’” Trish smacked her friend on the arm, which earned her a scowl. “It’s sweet.”

“I’d be more interested if they’d actually boned last night,” Jessica tilted her head to the side, considering. “I’d actually sit through a play-by-play of that.”

“Oh Jesus,” Karen shook her head, then let it fall into her hands. “Why did I think getting Jess involved in this would be a good idea?”

Karen and Jessica had met a few weeks ago, when Jess had swung by Trish’s office to pick her up for drinks. They usually met up at the bar, seeing as Jess hated setting foot on the university campus, with its air of smothering pretention, but Trish had been running late. Karen had been there helping her sort through the intricacies of writing an IRB proposal, and ended up tagging along for their “girl’s night.” Jessica had been a little wary at first, as she didn’t have the best track record with making girlfriends, but Karen had been surprisingly easy to get along with. They had struck up a friendship, which Jess had already used to her advantage, mining some of Karen’s journalism contacts for a case she’d been working on involving a congressman and a callgirl. Sitting across from each other at a shabby table in a low-rent bar, it felt like they’d been friends for ages, rather than weeks.

“Jess, you can’t just say ‘bone’!” Trish looked aghast. “It makes you sound like a thirteen year old boy.” Jess rolled her eyes at that, taking a loud, defiant slurp from her Jack and Coke. “Though, I guess imagining Frank and Karen having sex is pretty hot.” Trish amended, pursing her lips in thought.

“I am regretting this so much,” Karen just knew she was blushing beat red, and scrubbed her hands over her face in an attempt to hide it.

“What?! It’s true,” Trish tossed her hair over her shoulder and rested her cheek on her palm. “He’s so big and muscular and masculine. I mean, that jaw. And those hands, my god. And you—” she used her free hand to gesture at Karen, who had slumped down in her seat in embarrassment.  “I mean, you’re basically the universal ideal of beauty. The two of you together would be explosive.”

“Okay, keep it in your pants there, Walker. It looks like you’re about to give Page a heart attack,” Jessica lifted her icy glass and pressed it against Karen’s forehead. She jumped at the freezing contact, and was surprised to realize just how hot she’d become.

“Ugh, I can’t help it!” Trish shook her head, running a finger around the rim of her martini glass. “I haven’t seen any action in months, and I’m forced to live vicariously through your thing with Frank.”

Karen was suddenly glad that the bar they had been sitting in for the last few hours was nearly-deserted, because Trish was reaching that point of inebriation where volume control became a real issue. But the grizzled, old man nursing a G&T by the pool tables didn’t seem to mind, and neither did the girl in the back corner who had been chain smoking and reading what looked like Catcher in the Rye.

“You want to talk about sexual frustration?” Jessica took a long gulp of her drink, downing it completely before slamming the glass onto the table. “Then I’m your girl. Haven’t gotten laid since Luke got together with that nurse he’s been seeing.”

“Jesus, that was like five months ago!” Trish made a face, raising her hand to let the bored-looking barback know that their table was ready for another round. “How have you survived that long?”

Karen cringed inwardly—she hadn’t had sex in over a year. She decided to keep that fact to herself.

“Oh, y’know,” Jess shrugged with a dark little smile. “Making use of the goodies in my nightstand. Eating too much junk food. Drinking.” Her next round of Jack and Coke came just in time, and she took a long sip for emphasis.

“Some real healthy coping mechanisms there, Jones.” Karen shook her head, nudging Jessica’s leg under the table with her own.

“Oreos and whiskey haven’t let me down yet,” Jess lifted her glass in a salute. “So I’m gonna stick with ‘em.”

“Man,” Trish sighed deeply, “I haven’t found a good substitute for sex.” She dipped her finger in the remnants of her martini, dragging it along the edge of the glass until it sang. “You know, the hardest part of being sexually-frustrated is missing the intimacy. Just wanting to be held. Not even the sex, really, but being so close to somebody, y’know?”

“Nope.” Jess shook her head.

“Yeah,” Karen ran a hand through her hair, nodding.

“See, Karen gets me,” Trish threw a wadded-up napkin at Jess, who let it hit her forehead and roll away.

And it was true—Karen did get it. Which was strange, because she’d never been the kind of person who was preoccupied with sex—who fantasized and got swept up in desire. It had been a long time since her last relationship, and she didn’t go in for one night stands, which left her sorely lacking in the “getting laid” department. But the shortage of sex had never really bothered her all that much; she was a busy woman, and had no problem filling her day in ways that took her mind off of her self-imposed celibacy.

At least, she had no problem before she met Frank. Since walking into the office that first day and seeing him behind his desk—glasses perched on his nose, hair blown askew from the windy afternoon, looking downright edible in a dress shirt rolled up to the elbow—her imagination had slowly become a fucking Danielle Steele novel.

She couldn’t help it. Over the past four months, she’d found herself slipping into Frank-themed fantasies more and more often. They had started off innocently enough—little daydreams about Frank as a brawny, daring sailor in his cable-knit sweaters, poised on the bow of a fishing boat, wind in his hair. Or the week he’d been too busy to shave, she’d imagined him as a lumberjack—chopping wood with his torso bare, all that muscular, tanned flesh dotted in sweat. It was ridiculous, really; her little trips of the imagination had her feeling like a teenager again. She hadn’t let herself slip into those kinds of girlish fancies since her days of having a crush on Taylor Hanson. But she figured that, given a little time, her over-active imagination would tire of Frank and move on.

Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on how you looked at it), those daydreams only increased in frequency. And slowly grew into something a little more…titillating. Images of his long, rough fingers stroking her body; his lips running down the column of her neck; the stubble on that sharp jaw scratching along the insides of her thighs. It was almost embarrassing, how often she caught herself drifting off into a lurid daydream while Frank was bent over his filing cabinet to look for an answer key, or rearranging the books on his shelf for maximum efficiency. Her favorite daydream, by far, involved him sweeping all of his color-coded binders off his desk and making her head go fuzzy. She felt a little guilty for her fantasies, sure, but not terribly so. She was, after all, only human, and Frank was unfairly handsome.

The strangest turn of events, however, had occurred when the nature of her little daydreams started changing again. Into something that left her feeling melty and warm inside. Images of the two of them lying in bed together, his warm arms around her, her head against his chest, listening to the thud of his heartbeat; waking up in the morning to see him drinking coffee on her sofa and grading exams; staying up all night, her head on his lap, arguing about critical theory.

It had snuck up on her—the way her desire for him had grown into something deeper. She found herself wanting him in all the soft, warm, little ways that one person could want another. His breath on her neck; the roughness of his palm against her own; the softness in his eyes. Wanted him around in the quiet moments, in between breaths, when the touch of another can mean the difference between loneliness and home.

And that was big. That was a profound kind of need—deep and abiding. Karen was afraid that she couldn’t will it away by overloading her schedule or keeping herself busy.

So yeah, she understood what Trish meant about how overwhelming the desire for closeness could be. How it could make your bones ache.

“You two are pathetic.” Jess, on the other hand, did not seem to have any great need for emotional intimacy. “Life is so much easier if you can learn to just have sex without all that other stuff involved. Just scratch an itch.”

“’Boning’? ‘Scratch an itch’?” Karen raised a brow at Jess. “You missed your calling as a Hallmark card writer.”

“Or a poet,” Trish piped up.

“She puts John Donne to shame.”

“Oh for sure.”

“Off with that girdle, like heaven’s zone glistering,” Karen began to recite, posing with her arm raised like an actor in a Shakespearean drama. “But a far fairer world encompassing. Unpin that spangled breastplate, which you wear, that th’eyes of busy fools may be stopped there: Unlace yourself, for that harmonious chime. Tells me from you that it’s boning time.”

Trish burst into a bout of uncontrollable giggles, while Jess held her hands up, unashamed. “What?! It does sound better that way!” She protested, grinning. “More people would read your weird, old, dead person poems if they talked about boning.”

“Sad thing is, I think you’re right,” Karen lamented, shaking her head.

“Of course I’m right,” Jess pretended to pop the collar of her black leather jacket. “Sex sells.”

“So I’ve been told,” Karen snorted, thinking about the conversation she’d had with Foggy at the faculty mixer all those months ago. That thought, of course, led her to remembering how unbelievably attractive Frank had looked that evening in his faded grey sweater (the one that was just the right size to hug the sturdy curve of his shoulders). And just like that, Karen was thinking about Frank again.

Trish noticed the expression on Karen’s face change, as subtly as it did, into something that looked an awful lot like longing.

“Pining for Frank again?” Trish placed a sympathetic hand on Karen’s wrist.

“Yeah,” Karen sighed. “I feel like my brain is a broken fucking record. I just keep replaying last night and wishing it had turned out differently, y’know? That I’d had the courage to tell him how I felt, or that he’d made a move. Something to let me know he’s interested.”

“Come on,” Jess rolled her eyes at Karen. “I’ve only been half-listening to this whole conversation, and even I can tell that he’s interested in you. Don’t play stupid.”

“I’m not,” Karen crossed her arms defensively. “I’m just feeling a little insecure about this whole thing. I haven’t felt like this about someone in a long time, and it’s got me off my game.”

“I get that,” Trish nodded. “But you got take your mind off of it or you’ll drive yourself crazy. It’ll all work out.”

“Yeah, and even if it doesn’t, there’s always alcohol.” Jess raised her glass.

Strangely enough, that actually made Karen feel better. Not that there’d always be alcohol to lean on, but that she’d always have friends like Jess and Trish to turn to when things got rough.

           By the time Monday rolled around, Karen had done a lot of thinking about the Frank situation. Too much thinking, probably, as she had a tendency to dwell far too long on things she couldn’t do much about. In fact, she’d lost a great deal of sleep over the weekend, tossing and turning—sometimes lying awake and replaying that evening in the office with Frank, and other times twisting in the sheets with dreams of his hands and his lips and his voice. She’d woken up Monday morning exhausted, but all of the thinking had helped her to gain some clarity.

She’d decided that she wasn’t crazy—there had definitely been a fair amount of sexual tension in that room Friday night, and not just from her end, either. She had seen the shudder of attraction in Frank’s eyes—the way they lingered on her a touch passed what was decent—the magnetic pull of his gaze along her flesh. So at least she knew that Frank was attracted to her, on some level. There was, of course, the looming possibility that the attraction was only physical—she didn’t know, she’d have to figure that out eventually.

She had also decided, over the course of her weekend of agonizing, that she couldn’t hold it against him that he hadn’t acted on said tension. His best friend had needed him, after all. Frank wouldn’t be the man she was stupidly in love with if he hadn’t immediately dropped everything to help a friend in need.

And while she hadn’t managed to make good on her promise to tell him that she was in love with him (what else was new?), she did have more confidence that he had feelings for her, too. Whatever the nature of those feelings might be.

As she walked into the office, actually on time for once, Karen had to remind herself to breathe steadily. She had started to grow nervous, on her walk to work, about seeing Frank. Not because she was afraid it would be uncomfortable around him, but because she was a little bit apprehensive about how well he could read her. She was half-convinced, on some level, that he might take one look at her and know that she’d spent the last two nights tangled up in her sheets, sweaty and alone, dreaming about all the wonderful ways their Friday night could have ended.

 Frank, on his end, had also spent the past few days consumed with thoughts of their almost-encounter. Thoughts that mostly went something like, “why the fuck am I friends with David?” and “what would I have even said if he hadn’t interrupted?” After the initial—and bitter—disappointment that his moment had been so unceremoniously ruined by Lieberman, Frank started to realize that it actually might have been a good thing. Because he really didn’t know what he had planned on saying to Karen. And he didn’t want to fuck it up. Not with her.

It may have taken Frank a while to realize that he was in love, but once the realization had hit, it hit hard. Frank was not a man who did things by half-measures; he was an all-or-nothing kind of guy. And falling in love with Karen felt like it; felt like the last great thing he would ever do.

He’d started to think, after Maria, that he’d never get to experience that feeling again. The way that love takes everything you think you are, all that you think defines you—your triumphs and your fears and your pain and your happiness—and shows you that you are more than those things. You are part of something bigger than yourself; something huge and consuming and inexorable. That you were not meant to carry the burden of your own humanness—with all its beauty and suffering—alone. But rather, you are a shape perfect for holding.

He’d thought that feeling was out of reach.

But then Karen had come along, and god, if she didn’t cut him to the core with all that nervous energy and those thoughtful eyes. Reminded him what it was like to lose yourself in dreams of someone else.

He’d been so preoccupied with thoughts of Karen over the weekend that even Maria had noticed, pulling him aside on Sunday evening to ask him what was going on. All he’d had to do was mention Karen’s name, and Maria got that knowing gleam in her eye. The one that used to drive him crazy.

“Ah, so you realized you’re in love with her, huh?”

Frank had groaned—had everyone known but him?

“Bring her around next weekend, okay? I want to meet her.” Maria had patted a comforting hand on his arm before being called away by Lisa, who was trying on a new baseball uniform.

With Maria onboard, it was serious. So he was determined not to fuck things up with a half-baked, impromptu confession. He was going to do things properly. But how, exactly, he was going to go about it was the question of the moment.

And that’s exactly what he had been thinking about when Karen Page walked through the door on Monday morning (Frank had to double check his watch, because she was actually on time). He noticed immediately the buzz of anxious energy that seemed the follow her into the room. She was muttering something to herself under her breath, too quietly for Frank to hear.

“You, uh—” Frank swiveled around in his chair to track Karen’s movement across the office, “you talking to yourself there, Page?”

“Jesus Christ!” Karen jumped in surprise, clutching her chest. “Scared me to death. I didn’t see you behind your monitor.” She could barely hear her own voice over the wild thudding of her heart.

“You okay?” Frank’s brow furrowed as he took in Karen’s appearance. Though she was as impeccably-dressed as always, wearing a navy sweater dress that did marvelous things to her figure, there were deep purple bruises under her eyes. Like she hadn’t slept in a few nights. And there was that nervous little tilt to her mouth, like she was trying to stop herself from chewing her bottom lip, and only barely succeeding.

“Yeah,” Karen sighed, dropping her briefcase on the floor and falling onto the loveseat with a groan. “Just had a rough weekend. Couldn’t turn my brain off for even a few seconds, y’know?”

Frank hummed and understanding little noise. He definitely knew.

“I woke up feeling like I hadn’t even slept. Like my head’s full of little buzzing creatures.” She propped her feet up on the coffee table and Frank had to suppress the belly laugh that threatened to burst out.

“Is that why, uh—” Frank gesture toward Karen’s feet, “Why you’re wearing two different shoes there?”

“I—” Karen looked down at her feet in shock, her brows knitting together in confusion, as though seeing them for the first time. “God damnit!” She owned two pairs of suede ankle boots, absolutely identical, save for the fact that one pair was brown while the other was black. In her rush to leave that morning—her mind preoccupied with other, Frank-shaped thoughts—she’d grabbed one of both.

“I think it’s quite the look,” Frank smirked as Karen slumped further down on the loveseat, throwing an arm over her face. “You might even start a fad, Page.”

“Jesus Christ,” she groaned. “Can we pretend, just for a few seconds, that I’m a functioning human being?”

“It’ll be hard, but we can try.” Frank bit his thumb to keep the stupid grin from overtaking his face. “Want some coffee?” He’d poured a cup for himself on the way in, stopping by the faculty break room to get his morning fix. But Karen looked like she could use it more than he did at the moment.

“Yes, please.” Her voice was muffled by the arm she was still hiding under.

Frank grabbed his untouched mug of coffee and walked it over to the loveseat. He kneeled down next to Karen, who refused to uncover her face, and instead reached out blindly for the mug with her free arm, almost smacking Frank upside the head in the process.

“Okay,” he dodged another attempt for the coffee, chuckling. “I think you’re going to have to come out of hiding if you want your caffeine fix, sweetheart.”

“But I’m obviously not capable of existing in the real world today.” Despite her protestation, Karen let her arm drop with a sigh, reaching for the mug with both hands. Her fingers lingered a little longer than strictly necessary on Frank’s own, and she had to suppress a shiver at the touch. God dammit, but the smallest touch from him got a reaction out of her.

Frank watched her take her first sip, noting the initial grimace (Frank took his coffee black, while Karen was a sugar fiend), which eventually faded into a hum of satisfaction. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them again, they had lost their bitingly-nervous edge.

“World looks better after some coffee, huh?” Frank asked, smiling softly. Karen may have been having a rough morning, but his was going great—it always did, the second she walked into the room.

“Mmhmm,” Karen nodded, watching Frank over the rim of the mug. They were awfully close, what with him squatting down next to her lap, his hand steadying himself on the couch cushion mere inches away from her thigh. It reminded her of their position last Friday night, which set off a series of minor explosions in her chest. “Even if it tastes like motor oil the way you make it.” Karen joked, trying to cover up the prickle of awareness that was beginning the crawl its way up her spine.

“You’ve tasted motor oil before?” Frank shifted his hand on the couch, and the tip of his thumb lightly brushed her thigh, right where the hem of her dress ended. Karen had to exert an inhuman amount of self-control to keep from squirming.

“Haven’t you?” She teased, keeping her voice casual.

“You know, that explains so much about you, Page.” Frank couldn’t hide the blatant affection on his face, and Karen felt her pulse spike.

She was contemplating sliding one of her hands from her mug to rest over his own, when a loud beeping emanated from Frank’s computer.

He frowned, looking over his shoulder. It was the alert he’d set to go off every time he received an email marked “Urgent” from the university admin. In the 7 years he’d been working as a professor, it had only gone off twice: once when the president of the college passed away unexpectedly, and once when an armed robber fleeing from the cops decided to hide out in the library.

“That’s weird,” he muttered under his breath, pushing himself up to check his email. Karen’s eyes followed lazily as he rounded his desk to lean over the monitor. The blue light of the screen lit his face, and she watched with growing interest while his expression morphed from confusion to shock to something that looked an awful lot like glee.

“Holy shit, Kare,” his voice was excited. “You gotta read this.” He gestured toward her in a ‘come here’ motion, never taking his eyes off the screen. She placed her mug on the coffee table and made her way over, planting a hand on his desk to lean over his shoulder.

It was silent for a moment, as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing. Then:

“Oh fuck.” It was a curse, but it was spoken with a kind of joy that Karen should have probably felt guilty about.

“The Great Dr. Danny Rand, revealed as a fraud. Jesus,” Frank shook his head, and Karen had to bring a hand up to her mouth to keep the giddy laughter from spilling out.

           It has recently come to the administration’s attention that Dr. Daniel Rand, of the School of Media Journalism, has been accused of falsifying data.

           Four years ago, Danny had gained some measure of fame for a study he’d published about the dissemination of underground, revolutionary materials in North Korea, and their effect on stirring up resistance among rural citizens. The crux of his research had rested on a riveting account of espionage and revolution, as told by a former citizen of the DPRK, who purported to be directly involved in the Kim administration.

           A former citizen who was now coming forward as a fraud, the email read. He was, apparently, not even Korean, but rather a Chinese student Danny had met during a research trip to Hong Kong. He had completely fabricated the story, with Danny’s help, in exchange for assistance in attaining a green card to the U.S.

           In light of this new information, Dr. Daniel Rand has chosen to tender his resignation, and will no longer be affiliated with the work being conducted at this university.

“Is it wrong for me to celebrate right now?” Karen spoke around her fingers, which were still pressed to her mouth.

“I think the occasion calls for it.” Frank smiled over his shoulder at Karen, who was looking shell-shocked in the best way.

“I just feel so vindicated,” she pumped her fist in the air for emphasis. “Maybe the universe is just, after all.”

“And now you can get your research project back.” Frank straightened so that he was no longer leaning over the desk, and turned to face Karen, who was bouncing up and down on the toes of her feet.

“Oh my God,” she ran a hand through her hair. “I hadn’t even thought about that. I was just imagining the media firestorm he’s gonna come under when this thing blows up.”

“They’re going to crucify him. Especially because it’s a little racist to try to pass off a Chinese man as Korean.”

“Ooh, I didn’t think about that either,” Karen rubbed her hands together in delight. “This is going to be amazing.”

Suddenly, Karen’s phone began dinging manically, several texts coming in all at once. She jogged over to her briefcase to see what was going on.

“Oh my god,” she laughed. “Foggy and Trish and some of my other grad students are all texting me congratulations.” She thumbed through her messages as they kept filtering in. “It feels like Christmas morning.”

“I didn’t know Santa did revenge. Never got it in my stocking.” Frank shoved his hands in his pockets, watching Karen grin at her phone. She really did look like a child on Christmas.

“Probably because you were never a good little boy,” Karen quickly typed back a response to Foggy.

“I was good enough.”

“Good enough doesn’t get your enemies destroyed.”

“Clearly.”

Karen snorted, firing off several texts in a row.

“Oh,” she looked up from her phone as she received another text. “Foggy just suggested we go to Josie’s tonight to celebrate. Wanna come?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Even if it is technically in poor taste to drink to the destroyed career of a colleague?” Karen gave a lopsided tilt of the lips.

“I’ve done worse,” Frank lifted a shoulder in a half shrug.

“Which is exactly why Santa never gave you revenge for Christmas,” Karen pointed a finger. “It’s all coming together, Castle.”

Frank was about to speak when the alarm on Karen’s phone went off, alerting her to leave for class.

“Oh, shit,” she glanced down at her phone. “I gotta go. But we’re meeting at Josie’s at 8, okay?” She grabbed her briefcase and threw it over her shoulder. As she made to rush out the door, she impulsively reached out to kiss Frank on the cheek. She couldn’t say exactly why, but it felt right. “I’ll text you later,” she squeezed his arm gently before breezing out of the office, leaving him standing there staring after her like a lovesick fool.

For 8 o’clock on a Monday night, Josie’s was uncommonly packed. Aside from the usual suspects who showed up to start drinking at 4pm on the dot, the bar was playing host to what looked like a roller derby team still decked out in their uniforms, a group of frat guys wearing Chinos and comfort colors, and an assortment of strange characters who seemed to be intent on drinking alone. Karen, Frank, and Trish (who was meeting Foggy for the first time), had barely been able to snag a pool table while Foggy bought the first round of celebratory drinks. They’d toasted to the untimely, but not unappreciated, demise of Danny Rand, before Trish suggested a game of pool (which Foggy jumped to take her up on). Frank and Karen had exchanged a look at that—he’d seemed just a little too eager.

It had only taken ten minutes for Trish’s competitive side to rear its head, which had caught everyone but Karen by surprise. Trish was a woman who did not like to lose. Unfortunately for her, Foggy wasn’t too keen on being defeated himself, and their game had quickly devolved into chaos—but enjoyable chaos.

“Oh my God,” Foggy leaned down to speak into Karen’s ear, chalking up the pool stick in his hands. “How have you not introduced me to Trish before tonight?” He watched in avid fascination as the woman in question bent over the pool table to line up her shot, giving him a perfect view of her assets.

“Uh, because the opportunity just didn’t pop up?” Karen shrugged, taking a sip of her beer. She was currently leaned-up against a tall pub table pressed into the back corner of the bar, where she had been watching Trish and Foggy go at it like professional players, trick shots and all. “You’re not going to be weird about this, are you?” She narrowed her eyes at Foggy in suspicion. The poor guy had a tendency to get really awkward around her attractive, female friends. The stuttery, bad-joke, no hand-eye coordination kind of awkward. It was really quite tragic.

“What, me?” Foggy pressed an offended hand to his chest. “Never been awkward a day in my life.”

“Uh-huh,” Karen darted her eyes down at Foggy’s pants. “Your fly’s undone.”

“Oh shit.” He looked down in surprise, turning around the subtly zip up. “Do you think Trish saw that?”

“Saw what?” Trish suddenly appeared at Karen’s side.

“Uh, how great that last shot you made was,” Foggy attempted to cover up, rocking back and forth on his heels.

“Um, of course I saw the shot, Foggy.” Trish darted her eyes to Karen, brow furrowed in confusion. “I was the one that made it.”

“Oh yeah. Of course.” Foggy fidgeted with his pool stick. “I just wanted to make sure you knew that it was a really good shot. So,” he jerkily reached out to pat Trish on the arm, “good job.”

“Thanks?”

“Yeah, just, uh…” Foggy began backing away from the two women, gesturing over his shoulder with his thumb. “I’m gonna go back to the pool table. Plan my next move.”

Trish waited a beat before tilting her head at Karen with a frown.

“Is he okay?” She darted her eyes in Foggy’s direction.

“Right now, or in general?” Karen chuckled, shaking her head.

“You have some weird friends,” Trish sighed, before turning to follow Foggy and finish off their game.

Karen was only alone for a moment before Frank appeared at her elbow, carrying another round of beers for the group.

“I’m telling you, that bar tender always takes way longer getting the drinks for me than he does with you.” He placed the bottles on the table with a clang, wiping his hands on the back of his jeans.

“Well that’s because I actually smile at him. Didn’t anyone ever tell you grimacing gets you nowhere,” Karen gestured at Frank’s face, which was indeed set in a scowl. “Flies and honey and all that?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s less about the smiling and more about you being a good-looking woman,” Frank grumbled, grabbing one of the beers and taking a swig. Karen blushed at the compliment, and felt the warm buzz of it all the way down to her toes.

“I’m pretty sure Craig’s gay, Frank. You’d be more his taste,” she leaned forward, slipping her chin into the palm of her hand.

“Clearly not, or else it wouldn’t have taken 15 minutes to get four beers.” Frank also leaned forward, his elbows on the table.

“Hmm, maybe Craig doesn’t go for your whole ‘rugged, muscular intellectual with a penchant for sweaters’ look,” Karen pursed her lips in thought.

“Is that what I am?” Frank raised a brow. “A ‘rugged, muscular intellectual’?”

Karen felt a blush working its way across her face.

“You forgot the sweaters. It’s all about the sweaters.”

“Of course,” Frank nodded sagely, looking down at the grey cable knit he was wearing (Karen’s favorite, though he had no way of knowing that). There was a loud groan from the direction of the pool table, and he glanced over his shoulder at Trish and Foggy, who were arguing over how far she was allowed to lean over to make a shot before it became a foul. “So Foggy hasn’t run her off yet?”

“Nope, but he’s working on it,” Karen scrunched her nose. “At this rate, she’s going to be heading for the hills in no time at all. Poor guy—he just can’t function around a pretty woman.”

“It’s a miracle he’s been able to keep cool around you for so long.”

Karen bit her lip. It was the second time in the span of two minutes that Frank had called her beautiful—her heart stuttered in her chest.

“You should have seen him the first time he met me. Spilled sangria down my dress at a faculty mixer,” Karen smiled at the memory. “Then, when he tried to get some club soda to help wash it out, he spilled that down himself. I think the only reason he didn’t spontaneously combust in embarrassment was because Matt was there. He has a way of keeping Foggy from going too crazy.”

“Hmm,” Frank scratched the back of his neck, unsure of how to broach the next topic. “Speaking of Matt—haven’t heard you mention him in a while. Things still rough between you two?”

Karen had never gotten around the telling Frank about the nature of her confrontation with Matt in the coffee shop—she had been so upset about the whole thing, she hadn’t really thought to mention what the fight was about in the first place. All he’d managed to gather from her was “Matt is an asshole who thinks he has some kind of say in my life, but he doesn’t” and “God, he’s just a self-righteous prick.” And he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a little curious about what had happened between the two of them.

“Uh, yeah.” Karen’s expression took on a strained quality. “Still rough.” She looked down, picking up a napkin and twisting it between her fingers. “I’ve mostly just been avoiding him. Might be time for me to write the whole thing off as over, y’know?” She dropped the napkin and moved on to fidgeting with her beer bottle, peeling the label off with her thumbnail. “I figure if he really cared about our friendship, he’d have found some way to apologize by now. And I think I’m getting to a place where I can finally say ‘no’ to half-assed friends. Just cut ‘em off.”

Frank nodded, aiming for a sympathetic look, which he didn’t quite pull off. He couldn’t pretend he wasn’t happy with that particular turn of events—though they’d only met once, Matt had given him a bad feeling.

“You never said what happened between the two of you.” Frank’s eyes were glued to Karen’s restless fingers. “Don’t know if it’s something you want to talk about or not.”

Karen stopped her fidgeting, looking at Frank intently—thoughtfully. She wasn’t sure if she should tell him that their fight had mostly revolved around him; she didn’t want him feeling guilty for causing the rift between her and Matt. But on the other hand, there was really no point in keeping it a secret—what was done was done. And, in the end, the falling out had really been more about Matt’s patronizing self-righteousness than about Frank.

“He just—,” Karen stopped, trying to think of how to phrase what she wanted to say. “He has this way of trying to get involved in my life and kind of tell me what to do that’s absolutely infuriating. He’s always making suggestions and giving me advice about things he has no right to talk about. Overstepping his bounds.”

“Ah,” Frank nodded. “It’s a fool’s mistake, trying to tell you what to do.”

“Damn right.” Karen lifted her beer in a mock toast.

“So, uh, what was it that he said that set you off?”

“Actually,” Karen’s lips quirked slightly, “we were arguing about you.”

“Me?” Frank jolted in surprise, frowning.

“Yeah,” Karen leaned forward, folding her arms on the table. “He was trying to tell me all this bullshit—that you weren’t someone I should be associated with. That you would ruin my reputation. Just a load of garbage. I got upset—asked him what gave him the right to tell me who I should and shouldn’t be associating with. Went downhill from there.”

“So you—” Frank paused, brow furrowed. “You stopped being friends with him because of me?” That idea didn’t sit well with him.

“No, no.” Karen reached out to place a hand on his arm, rubbing her thumb against the outside of his wrist. “The conversation about you was just a symptom of the larger problem, right? I stopped being friends with him because he doesn’t treat me well. He acts like I’m some little girl he needs to protect and look out for—it’s patronizing.” Karen squeezed Frank’s arm, forcing him to look at her. “I’m trying to get better at cutting toxic people out of my life. People who make me feel small. Matt was one of those people.”

Frank nodded, staring at Karen with a contemplative look, as though he were weighing up some odds in his head, to which she wasn’t privy.

“You know,” he looked away, staring at his hands on the table. “Matt was probably right. About you and me.”

It was Karen’s turn to react in surprise. “What?”

“He was right,” Frank looked up again, something dark and heated in his eyes. “You’re too good for me.” Karen opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off. “Come one, Kare. You’re brilliant and funny and you have this way of setting people at ease. You got a good heart. An open heart. And that’s really rare. You don’t meet people like that every day, and that’s just the goddamn truth. I’m not really sure anyone is good enough for you.”

“I don’t—” Karen started to speak, something like anger crumpling her face.

“No, hey—” Frank reached out and laid a warm hand on Karen’s arm. “Hey. All I’m saying is that I know who I am. And I know what my reputation is, okay? I’m not an idiot. You’re not gonna get invited to rub any elbows by associating with me.”

Karen opened her mouth, still trying to get a word in.

“I’m not done, Kare.” Frank grinned, amused at her adamant attempts to argue the point. “Jesus, did your momma never teach you not to interrupt?” Karen sputtered, before closing her mouth. “Here’s the thing, Page—the thing Matt doesn’t know, right? Is that there’s nothing he, or anybody else, can do or say to make me disappear.”

Karen felt her rigid shoulders go lax. Frank’s hand, still on her arm, felt hot.

“At this point, uh—,” he shifted uneasily, “I’m not sure I could leave you alone if I tried. I think you’re stuck with me.”

Karen’s chest suddenly felt over-full, flooded with an emotion she couldn’t quite name. Something with the distinct flavor of relief, mixed with joy, and a whole tidal wave of affection. Frank was looking at her in this electric kind of way—fierce and burning. His eyes were tight in anticipation, waiting for Karen to respond.

“I—”

“Oh, more beer!” Foggy’s sweaty body collided suddenly into the table, jostling the drinks. Frank stuck out a hand to steady the wobbling bottles. “I need to refuel after that game. Another victory for Clan Nelson.” He grabbed a beer and took a long gulp, seemingly unaware of the thick cord of expectation that hung in the air between Karen and Frank.

“I’m not convinced that last shot was legal,” Trish grumbled, appearing at Foggy’s side, her arms crossed and a scowl on her face. She squeezed in next to him, also missing the way that Frank and Karen had been staring at each other, unblinking.

“Is that bitterness I hear in your voice, Walker?” Foggy slammed his bottle on the table, which jolted Karen from her state. Jumping, she turned to look at Foggy, who was pointing at Trish with narrowed eyes. “Let’s go another round and see who’s cheating, huh?”

“Maybe Frank and Karen want a turn, Nelson.” Trish grabbed her own beer, sparing a glance at Karen for the first time since joining the table. She immediately noticed the look on her friend’s face—overwhelmed and a little bit dazed. Darting her eyes in Frank’s direction, she saw him wearing a similar look. Clearly they’d walked into the middle of something. “Or not…”

“Uh,” Karen cleared her throat, beginning to feel a little suffocated by the atmosphere inside the bar, like the she couldn’t breathe.  Air—she needed air. “Actually, I think I’m gonna step outside for a bit, I—”

She didn’t finish her sentence, grabbing her coat and heading for the back door of the bar. Trish and Foggy both stared after her in confusion.

“I’m gonna go make sure she’s good,” Frank grumbled, grabbing his own coat and following closely behind.

Trish and Foggy exchanged a glance as their two friends disappeared out into the night.

“What was that?” Foggy looked genuinely puzled, bless his heart.

“That, my new friend, is inevitability.” Trish grinned.

             The cool night air whipped around Karen’s face as she burst out the back door of Josie’s. It helped to clear some of the heavy fog that had settled in her mind. Her heart was in her throat—thundering.

           “Karen, what—” Frank didn’t have time to get the rest of the question out. He didn’t even have time to close the door behind him. Before he realized what was happening, Karen had launched herself at him, arms around his neck. And then she was kissing him.

           The kiss was tentative—nervous. Frank stood frozen in surprise, not moving, not reacting. His brain hadn’t quite caught up to what was happening to his body. Karen felt her heart sink, and began to pull away.

           “I’m sorry, I—” She started to apologize. Clearly she’d misread the situation. Clearly he didn’t want this. What a royal fuck-up. But she didn’t get the chance to finish her thought.

           It was Frank’s turn to take Karen by surprise, reaching out to slip a hand behind her head and yank her forward, silencing the rest of her apology as his mouth found her own.

And this kiss—this kiss was different. It wasn’t gentle, but with Frank Castle, Karen didn’t expect it to be. There was no breathless anticipation and uncertain brushes of the lips with him. No hesitant little tastes. Rather, he kissed like he was trying to consume her—with a single-minded dedication that made her feel weak. Brutal and hard—teeth nipping and lips devouring. Karen felt that animal part of herself clawing to the surface, as she buried her hands in his hair and tugged him roughly closer—for more.

Frank made a deep, low noise, and snaked an arm around her waist, holding her tight. His other hand tangled in her hair—all that golden, silky hair. He flexed the arm at her waist, and Karen jerked against him in response. Frank let out a moan at the sensation, and Karen shivered as she became acutely every point their bodies touched from chest to thigh.

Her breasts were crushed deliciously against the front of his coat, and the hard feel of him against her had her head going fuzzy. But it was a pleasant kind of static that cleared her mind of everything but Frank, leaving her free to focus on the slide of his tongue against her own, wet and hot, and the grasping of his fingers above the curve of her ass. A keening noise left her throat, and his hips bucked forward—brushing that spot that sent a sharp shoot of arousal up her spine.

“Karen. Jesus,” Frank whispered against her lips quietly, before pulling back to look at her in the streetlight. Her eyes were shining and feverish under heavy lids, and her lips parted and glistening from his kiss. She looked like a woman coming undone. Frank opened his mouth to speak again—he wanted to make her understand this was important to him; that kissing her felt like tasting his future; that this was everything—but he didn’t know how. So instead, he settled for making a frustrated, impatient noise before lowering his head again, trying to put everything he couldn’t say behind his kiss.

Slowly, his tongue swiped against her full bottom lip, leisurely setting the pace. He felt her responsive sigh as she sunk into him again. He wanted to memorize that feeling—of having her melt. She scratched at his scalp, and he responded by nibbling at her lip, teeth sharp and demanding. She gasped gently, and suddenly his tongue was brushing against hers again with exquisite slowness. More gentle this time—exploring.

A soft sound escaped Karen’s throat as her hands fell from his hair, grappling at his back to grab full swathes of his coat in an attempt to get even closer. Frank hadn’t even realized she’d been walking him backwards until his back collided with the wall of Josie’s and he let out a surprised laugh, breaking the kiss.

“Careful, Karen,” Frank’s face was split into a grin, and he pulled her forward to nestle between his parted legs, head thrown back against the wall. “Don’t break me.”

“Don’t think I could if I tried,” Karen was smiling too. It was a different smile than he’d seen her wear before. It was a smile that had an entire universe of private longing inside of it.

“God,” Frank shook his head. “Wanted to kiss you for so long. Too long.” He dipped his head again, this time landing on her neck, opening his mouth to suck at her flesh.

“Fuck,” Karen bit out, tilting her head to give him more access and breathing out hot into the cool night air.

“Say that again,” Frank whispered, before biting at the junction between her neck and her shoulder.

“Ah,” she let out a half-yelp, half-groan at the feeling of his teeth digging into her flesh, “Fuck, Frank.” Her voice sounded breathy in her own ears.

His hands were trailing up and down her sides, brushing the outsides of her breasts before returning to settle on her hips, then making the trail again. The sensation was divine, and she felt her hips roll forward into his own, causing him to grunt out a deep sound.

This was insane, a small part of her brain was thinking. Insane. Just moments ago they had been watching Foggy and Trish play pool, and now she had Frank pressed against the back wall of Josie’s, moaning in her ear and writhing against her.

“Frank,” she said his name again, like a plea, bringing her hands up to tangle in his short hair. “Frank, hold on, I—”

Frank immediately pulled back, the lust in his eyes instantly replaced with concern. Had he done something wrong? Had he misread the signs? No—that couldn’t be it. Karen wouldn’t have been kissing him so goddamn thoroughly if she didn’t want this too.

“No, no, come back,” Karen put her hands behind Frank’s neck, pulling him forward to rest his forehead against her own. “I just—” Karen broke off.

She wanted to tell him that she loved him. She really wanted to tell him that she loved him. But it didn’t feel like the right time—pressed against the back wall of Josie’s, surrounded by cigarette butts and crushed beer cans. So instead, she said what she could.

“I can’t be casual with you, Frank. I can’t do this if this is all it is. I’m not—I’m not walking away from this.” It wasn’t the most eloquent thing to say, but she hoped he understood. He needed to understand.

Frank shook his head, his nose bumping against Karen’s as he did.

“Karen.” He said her name with a mixture of affection and exasperation. “How can you not know?”

“Know what?”

“Nothing with you has ever been casual for me.” This time, when Frank pulled away, Karen let him. She wanted to see his eyes. “You have me.” His stare was single-minded and fervent. “You have me.”

All of the air seemed to leave Karen’s lungs in a single whoosh. The world, she was sure, began to tilt on its axis. Or, at least, her world did.

It wasn’t an “I love you,” but it somehow felt greater than that. More tangible, like something she could hold if she were to just reach out. It was all there—everything—in the gentle way his eyes anchored to her own; in the barely-perceptible trembling of his hands; in the corner of his lips, which couldn’t seem to decide if they wanted to smile or not. He was watching her like there was nothing else in the world more worthy of his attention. Like she was a new color he was seeing for the first time.

“Frank.” His name seemed to float, suspended, in the cold air between them. It was a caress; a benediction; a poem. He’d never heard his name spoken with so much need behind it.

And he was kissing her again. Lightly, gently. Just to feel her.

“I—,” She pulled away, taking a shuddering breath. “I want you to take me home, Frank.”

“Yes ma’am.”

 They didn’t even bother with excuses for Trish and Foggy. Didn’t have the patience for it. Instead, they ran back inside to grab Karen’s purse, threw a half-hearted “see you later” over their shoulders, and were gone. There was no time for waiting—no time for stalling. They’d let this thing burn between them for too long to get caught up in pleasantries.

The car ride to Karen’s apartment was blissfully short. Frank drove fast—too fast, really—his hands gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles went white. (Later, he would look back on that moment and thank god that he hadn’t been pulled over for how egregiously he was speeding). Karen, for her part, could not sit still in her seat. The anticipation had her squirming like a child, until Frank had to shoot her a dark glance, telling her to sit still. He was distracted enough without her writhing about in the passenger seat.

Karen had never taken the steps up to her place so quickly—two at a time. In fact, the entire trip from the car to the apartment was a blur. It wasn’t until the door had closed behind them that time seemed to slow to its normal speed.

Karen had half-expected Frank to pin her to the door as soon as it shut, picking up where they’d left off in the alley way. She’d expected frenzy and passion and desperation.

But there was no frenzy. There was no reckless claiming.

Instead, Frank stepped slowly into Karen’s apartment, looking around at all the familiar little pieces of her scattered about. And then he just stood—in the middle of Karen’s living room—heart pounding.

Standing there, among all of Karen’s possessions—her eclectic collection of books and ceramic knick-knacks—it hit Frank all at once. The enormity of the moment. Of what they were going to do.

Suddenly, against all common sense and rationality, he felt a little shy. No, he thought, not shy. It was something else—the feeling you get when you’re standing on the edge of a balcony, high in the air, thinking about how easy it would be to just lean forward and fall.

This was important. This was Karen.

Frank ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm the roaring feeling in his chest.

Karen, who was still standing by the door, barely past the threshold, was watching him in confusion. Waiting for him to do something. It seemed a strange shift in tone, she thought, compared to the heat and want of the alleyway. But clearly Frank needed some time—he was looking a little bit lost. And she was going to give him all the time he needed.

“I’ve never been in your bedroom.” His voice, though quiet, felt huge in her cozy little space.

“It’s the door to your left.” Karen pointed, and Frank turned to look. It was open just a crack, and he could see that she’d left a lamp on inside, as it illuminated a patch of carpet with a yellow glow.

He walked forward unhurriedly, almost cautiously, and pushed the door open fully, stepping inside. Karen waited a beat before following him.

Karen’s room, Frank thought, was perfect; just like he’d imagined. A large bed covered in a pale blue comforter; an entire wall of books (the fantasy branch of her personal collection); a vintage, velvet chair pushed in the corner, next to the window, which he assumed was her reading nook; a thousand assorted tchotchkes she’d picked up from her travels abroad.

Frank walked forward, running his fingers along the spines of her book collection, before turning and picking up the abacus on her night stand.

He was fidgeting, Karen thought with a grin. Like he was nervous—like he didn’t quite know what to do with himself.

It was strange, seeing him this way. She was used to a confident, smug, overbearing Frank. That she could deal with.

But an uncertain Frank was something else altogether.

She bit her lip, leaning against the door frame as he made his way over to her little desk, plucking at the abandoned knitting she’d left next to her laptop. He absent-mindedly shrugged off his jacket, tossing it over her desk chair.

Karen wanted to give him time—sure—but she was growing a little impatient. She wanted his hands on her, and sooner rather than later. So she’d just have to help him along.

 While his back was still turned to hers, fiddling with the Rubix cube on her desk, Karen brought her hands up to the zipper of her dress. Eyes glued to Frank’s broad back, she slowly dragged it down until the dress fell off her frame and silently onto the floor.

Underneath, she wore nothing but a diaphanous slip—a translucent scrap of thin cotton; she was practically naked. With a shiver, she fought the urge to cover herself. She felt so exposed. But, she supposed, that was the whole point—that was what she wanted—to be utterly exposed before Frank.

Taking a deep, calming breath, she forced her hands down to her sides, balling them in fists to keep from fidgeting nervously, then spoke.

“Frank?”

“Hmmm?” He responded, still facing away from her.

“Frank,” this time it wasn’t a question—it was a demand. Karen saw his back stiffen almost imperceptibly at the tone of her voice. A new kind of awareness flooding his body—had his pulse spiking.

He turned around to face her, his questioning look melting away to something else entirely when he saw her state of undress. She felt his eyes burning hot as they trailed up and down her body, stopping to take in her pink nipples, puckered and straining against the fabric. In the moonlight that filtered through the window, she looked like a goddamn angel.

Frank’s devoured her, but he didn’t take a solitary step forward, still standing the entire length of the room away. He’d never seen anything so fucking beautiful in his life. Dangerously beautiful—like a man could lose his mind just looking at her standing there, wanting. His body felt rooted to the spot, his gaze licking up and down her curves in unhidden appreciation. But he was nervous—he was actually fucking nervous. This thing between them felt huge—felt inevitable—and it was a little scary.

Karen’s brow creased in a frown.

“Frank. A girl’s going to start to feel a little self-conscious if you don’t come over here and touch her.” Karen tried for playful, but her voice was a touch too strained. Pulled tight with the tension of arousal (and just a touch of self-doubt). It was that anxious hitch that set Frank moving toward her.

“Goddamn.” He was across the room in seconds, his hands reaching for Karen’s face. If she were less focused on that thundering look in his eyes, she might have noticed the way his fingers were trembling softly.

“That’s better,” she mumbled quietly, leaning her cheek into the warmth of his palm.

“You are…” He broke off, letting his eyes trail down her body again, brushing her cheeks back and forth with his thumbs. “Fuck, you’re perfect.” Frank licked his lips. “Got me feeling like a teenaged boy over here.” He managed something akin to a chuckle.

“From where I’m standing, you don’t look like a teenaged boy,” Karen whispered, bringing her hands up to grab onto the lapels of the jacket he was still wearing. “You look like a man who wants to fuck me.”

“Shit, Kare.” Frank made a strangled noise. “You can’t say stuff like that if you want me to go slow with you.”

“Sorry,” Karen smiled, looking not at all apologetic.

Leisurely, Frank’s hands began to drift down from her cheeks, moving to ghost gently down her neck, his fingers leaving little trails of heat in their wake. He fiddled with the neckline of her shift for a moment before letting his hands drift down further.

“Jesus Christ, you’re so beautiful,” he spoke breathily, moving to cup her breasts in his large hands. She inhaled sharply at the feel of his palms pressed against her nipples, the sensation of his rough skin through thin fabric. “Like a wet dream,” he mumbled, and Karen would have teased him for the comparison, but suddenly his fingers were brushing over her nipples intently, and she moaned obscenely, feeling herself grow wet at the touch. How had she never realized how sensitive her nipples were?

“You like that.” There was a smile in Frank’s voice, and he stepped forward slightly so that his front barely grazed Karen’s, her senses sharpening at every point his body made contact with her own. “That’s good to know.”

He moved his left hand behind her back, pulling her body fully against his own, and with his right hand he began to gently roll and pinch her nipple between his fingers.

“Ah—Frank,” his name came out as a gasp from Karen’s lips, and her back arched involuntarily, pressing her breasts up toward him as an offering.

“Yes, sweetheart?” He lowered his head to her neck, opening his mouth to latch onto a spot near her collar bone, and she lost all her words. His mouth was so hot and wet against her skin, teeth brushing and nibbling at her in harmony with the movement of his fingers. Bite—tug—lick—roll. It was like some choreographed dance he was leading her body in.

As she pressed herself more firmly against Frank’s solid frame, his left hand wandered down the small of Karen’s back to cup her ass. His fingers trailed the cleft of her cheeks, dipping in to separate them slightly through the cotton of her panties, and she let out a choked moan.

“Mmm, that sound is perfect,” Frank mumbled against her neck. “Make that sound again,” he nipped sharply at a spot under her ear, just as he tweaked her nipple and let his left hand dip between her cheeks, dangerously close to her near-soaking core.

“Ah!” Karen moaned again, her hips jolting forward in search of some kind of relief. Frank grunted as her bucking hips found his own. He pulled her forward by her ass so that both of her legs straddled one of his—his muscular thigh nestled between them. He ground himself against her for a moment—sweet friction rubbing her just where she needed it.

Frank was already impossibly hard and straining against his jeans, and neither he nor Karen were technically undressed yet.

“Fuck—need to slow down,” Frank whispered against the skin on Karen’s neck, breath hot and wet, before taking a step back from her and untangling their legs. She whimpered at the loss of contact and Frank grinned, self-satisfied. “It’s been a while since I’ve done this, but I think I’m wearing too much,” he spoke with a grin, pulling off his sweater and moving to unbutton the shirt he wore underneath.

“No—let me,” Karen stepped forward, stilling his hands as they moved from button to button. Slowly, letting her fingers brush lightly against Frank’s overheated skin, Karen parted his shirt and revealed his chest. He was all sharp lines and bunched muscle beneath, as she knew he would be. The hard planes of his chest were delectable, covered in such warm, tanned skin. She couldn’t help but lick her lips involuntarily when the shirt fell to the ground, and she caught her first glimpse of the deep V of muscle leading into his jeans. How badly she wanted to trace that V with her tongue and follow it to its conclusion.

Frank, who had watched her appraising glance, and the trail of her pink tongue swiping along her bottom lip, groaned quietly. “You’re killing me, Karen.”

She glanced up and him with a wicked grin.

“This is 2018, Castle; the men don’t get to have all the fun,” she tutted, before lowering her head and attaching her lips to the long column of Frank’s throat, maintaining eye contact as best she could. At the shaky noise he made, she continued dragging her lips from his throat to his chest, letting her hands explore his muscular back all the while. His breath shuddered as she nibbled and licked a trail down his sternum. She pulled away from his skin slightly, and paused with uncertainty, before lowering her lips to lave the flat of her tongue against his right nipple.

“Karen,” Frank gasped, jerking in surprise. But her name quickly dissolved into a deep, satisfied noise.

“Mmm,” she mumbled in reply, circling his nipple again and again, before dropping a kiss onto his left one. “Seems you like having you nipples played with too,” she grinned up at him.

“We’ve always had a lot in common, huh?” Frank laughed, a little breathless.

“Hmm,” she agreed, lowering her lips to his chest once again. Slowly, she sunk down to her knees, dragging her nails down his back as she did so. He threw his head back and muttered “Jesus” as she settled between his spread legs.

Karen nuzzled her nose at the line of wiry hair trailing from his belly button into his jeans, sighing contentedly. With her hands scratching gently at the dip of his lower back, she licked along the trail of hair. It was rough, but pleasurable on her tongue. From her position, she could see Frank’s cock twitch in his pants as she repeated the motion.

“Karen, you have to get off your knees if you want to make it to the bed,” Frank’s voice was shaky and full of arousal as he spoke above her. She tilted her head back to make eye contact with him as she swiped her tongue across his happy trail again, defiant.

“Alright,” he huffed, before reaching down and hauling her up by her shoulders until they were face-to-face again. “That’s enough teasing from you.”

“You don’t like my teasing?” Karen asked with a smirk.

“Oh no,” Frank shook his head, trailing his hands from her shoulders to her hands, grabbing them with rough palms. “Like your teasing too much—that’s the problem.”

With her hands in his, Frank started slowly walking himself backwards, dragging Karen along with him, until he was able to collapse back into the red, velvet chair in the corner. He yanked her forward until she was sitting, straddling his lap.

Gazing up at her, eyes drinking in her every feature as though he were memorizing them, Frank spoke. “I’ve waited so fucking long for you, Kare. So let me take this slowly. I need to take this slowly.”

Her eyes softened tenderly, and she nodded. Cupping Frank’s chin in both hands, she tilted his head up a notch, bringing her forehead down to bump gently against his own. “Whatever you need. I’ve waited a long time for you, too. Just touch me.” Karen rolled her hips forward, and Frank felt his vision go white.

“That’s not taking it slow, Kare.” The words came out breathy and wrecked.

“Fine, fine.” Karen shifted her hips so they weren’t pressed to roughly against his lap. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Hmm,” Frank pulled away from her grasp and dragged his gaze up and down her body contemplatively. He lifted his hands and tugged at the straps holding her shift in place. In one swift motion, it fell to pool in her lap, leaving her utterly exposed.  “That’s a very dangerous thing to promise a man.”

“I like to live dangerously,” Karen whispered, bringing her lips to his in a devouring kiss. It was sloppy and wet—teeth clashing and tongues sliding over one another—and it was perfect. Frank’s hands rose to cup her breasts, and she found her hips sliding back forward, grinding along his in time with the swipe of his thumbs over her pebbled nipples.

The room was silent save for the sounds of their passion—heavy breathing and choked moans, the gasp of each other’s names.  Karen’s hands drifted down Frank’s toned chest, stopping to tug lightly on his dark chest hair before grabbing ahold of his belt and pulling sharply up. His hips jerked towards her own in response, hitting the bundle of nerves between her lower lips and sending her back arching, wrenching a cry from her lips.

“I love the noises you make,” Frank ground out, voice deep and rumbly. Karen noticed that he spoke in the gruffest tone when he was aroused. “Want you to make noises for me all night, Karen.”

She ground her hips down on his own again, hitting the same sweet spot, and moaned.

“Yes. Just like that. Just like that, sweetheart,” Frank breathed in her ear. While he played with her breast in his left hand, his right hand slowly found its way down her body, slipping beneath the pooled shift resting atop her thighs. Before she could clear her mind enough to see where Frank’s hand was leading him, he dipped his and into her panties and swiped one long finger along her core, making her gasp.

“Shit, Kare, so wet already.” Frank buried his head in her neck to mumble, letting his finger trail along her seam again, gathering her wetness. “Let me make you feel good.” He pressed his wet finger against her clit, and she felt her mind go blank.

“Frank,” his name on her lips was a sigh, a prayer, a blessing. “Oh God, Frank.”

He continued to swirl his finger, round and round her clit until she couldn’t take it anymore—head thrown back, hands scrambling for purchase and clutching at any part of him she could reach. Karen ground her hips down onto his hand, trying to both increase the pressure and feel his own arousal beneath her. Just when she was about to reach her peak—fall over the edge—he stopped. Karen let out a long, frustrated cry.

“Fuck. Frank. Why’d you stop?” She was panting and trying to grind her hips forward to bring back the delicious friction. Frank brought his hands to her waist to arrest her movements, nudging at her chin with his face until she opened her eyes and met his own.

“Because, Karen, when you come, I want to be inside of you,” his voice was gravelly and strained with wanting.

His words shot a deep bolt of pleasure straight to her core, sending another rush of wetness onto her thighs. This man would be the death of her.

In one swift motion, without giving her the time to catch her breath or gain her footing, Frank stood up, with Karen’s legs wrapped around his waist, and practically tossed her onto the bed. She let out a surprised laugh, bouncing on the mattress before settling among the pillows and covers. Frank smiled at her giddiness, leaning forward to press his fists into the bed.

“Glad your mattress is so comfortable—we’re going to be here for a long time,” his grin was carnal; he slowly trailed his eyes down her body as he spoke. “Take that off,” he demanded, nodding his head at Karen’s shift.

As she grabbed the scrap of cloth that was still pooled around her waist, and yanked it—and her underwear—off. Frank moved his own hands to his jeans, slowly unbuckling his belt and pulling off what remained of his clothes.

And suddenly, he was perfectly naked before Karen. She forgot her own nudity for a moment, eyes roving over the exposed spans of his skin, starving for him. His thighs were thick with muscle, and covered in short, dark hairs; his abdomen was defined and tensed in anticipation, muscles begging to be felt and licked and enjoyed. She took in the breadth of his shoulders, and if she tilted her head slightly, from her position she could just make out the round curve of his ass. Finally, she followed the direction of his V-cut down to its destination—his arousal stood proudly from a thatch of dark hair, long, thick, and pink, swollen and glistening at the tip.

Karen felt her legs spread slightly, involuntarily, at the sight, and had never felt more wanton in her life. Frank noticed the movement, and a devilish look crossed his face.

“You want me, Karen?” He asked, taking a step forward to place his knees against the mattress, resting his hands against his thighs. She nodded, reaching out to grab at him desperately.

“Not yet,” Frank quickly grabbed her hands before they could make contact with his chest, leaning over her to press her wrists into the mattress above her head. “Keep them here.” He pinned her with a demanding stare, before leaning away from her and pulling himself up fully to kneel on the bed between her spread legs. “I want to take care you. Can I do that, Karen?” He asked.

Karen nodded her head adamantly.

“I’ve wanted you like this for too long,” Frank whispered, leaning forward until his lips were millimeters from touching the skin of her lower stomach. “Better than my imagination.”

“Frank. God.” Karen’s voice was needy, but she couldn’t find it in herself to be embarrassed. “I like a little delayed gratification as much as the next girl, but can you please do something already.”

“Yes ma’am” Frank smiled, moving the last few millimeters to press an open-mouthed kiss against her stomach, right above her pubic bone.

Instantly, Karen’s back arched off the bed, and she brought a hand down to tangle in Frank’s hair.

 And suddenly, the warmth of his mouth was gone.

“Kare,” Frank chastised, reaching up to remove her hand from his hair. “You start touching me and I’m gonna lose my concentration.” He returned her arm to its position above her head. “In fact…” he paused, looking around for a moment. “Can you grab onto the headboard? Keep your hands occupied.” Karen nodded, and he lifted her under the hips, scooting her up the bed until she could wrap her hands around the wrought iron bars of the head board. “You gonna be okay there?”

“Yes,” Karen breathe out, inexplicably turned on by this turn of events.

“Good.”

And with that, Frank returned to kissing her stomach, licking and nibbling at her soft skin. She bit back a moan, turning her head to the side and burying it in her upper arm. His tongue dipped into her belly button, and her hips bucked up into his chest.

“Your skin is so soft,” Frank whispered against her skin. “Smooth.” He lowered his head further, bypassing Karen’s aching core, and latched his lips onto the top of her inner right thigh. It was torture—exquisite torture.

Karen hadn’t know how sensitive her thighs could be, as she found herself biting back sighs at his kisses. Her hands flexed and clenched at the headboard as Frank continued to languorously lick at her inner thighs, switching from one leg to another, pausing each time to let the heat of his breath hit her where she needed him most. The scrape of his teeth on her inner legs almost sent her careening over the edge. Karen didn’t even realize that she’d slowly been opening her legs wider and wider, obscenely, in a desperate effort to get his mouth where she wanted it.

Frank stopped suddenly, pulling back to look up the expanse of Karen’s body and admire his work—her chest and cheeks were flushed red, her back was arched in the air, her head was thrown back against the pillows. She looked like a woman thoroughly-fucked, and he hadn’t even entered her yet.

“You’re killing me, Frank.” Karen sounded strained. Tense and out of breath.

“Sorry.” Frank didn’t sound at all sorry, as he let his right hand wander down to lazily stroke at his erection, which looked almost painful. “Didn’t think a little foreplay would break you.” There was a teasing lilt to his voice, and Karen would have responded to it snarkily, had she not been so frantically needing. “Where do you want me, Karen?” He asked, his eyes flitting down to her exposed core.

“Jesus, Frank. Do you have to ask?” Karen answered, half-exasperated, eyes still glued to his hand as it worked its way up and down his shaft, his thumb gathering the wetness that had beaded at the tip.

“How do you want me?” he amended the question, squeezing himself harder under her gaze.

“I want—” Karen could hardly think—could hardly decide how she wanted the man in front of her. All she knew was that she did. “I want your mouth on me. I want you to lick me.” The words falling from her lips sounded filthy, and Frank groaned loudly, stroking himself on last time, before removing his hand, leaning over, and resuming his position between her legs.

“Was hoping you’d say that,” he whispered, before finally licking a hot line down her slit.

Karen was sure her neighbors could hear her responsive cry, but she didn’t care. His mouth was open and hot and frantically lapping at her, his hands winding their way behind her bottom, tilting it up to give him better access.

His mouth was making love to her—that was the only way to describe it—sucking and licking wildly. He had to grip her ass tightly to keep her from bucking up into his mouth. The room was filled with obscene slurping sounds, which only served to heighten Karen’s arousal even more. When Frank began moaning, the vibrations against her intimate flesh almost had her coming undone right there.

His tongue was pure magic, swirling round and round—then swiping quickly across—her swollen clit, before dipping down to enter her. He repeated this trail again and again, agonizingly slow.

“Fuck,” Frank moaned into Karen’s dripping flesh, his voice breaking, and she noticed for the first time that he was pressing his hips into the mattress rhythmically, seeking relief for his own impossible arousal.

When he let his teeth gently drag across her clit, Karen let out a strangled yell, “Frank, I’m almost—”

And before she knew what was happening—before she could even mourn the loss of his mouth, Frank had dragged himself up Karen’s body and slammed into her, filling her to the hilt.

She cried out, an almost animal scream, which Frank matched with a guttural moan, stilling inside of her. She had been expecting that the first time he entered her it would hurt like hell—he was quite a bit larger than she’d had before, and it had been a long time. And it probably would have—were she not so wet that the sheets below her were beginning to dampen with an impressive stain.

Karen was delightfully full, stretched and expanded by him, and she could feel her inner walls gripping his length rhythmically, desperately.

 But he remained still, breathing labored, head buried in her neck.

“Are you alright?” He whispered into her skin, his voice gruff and laced with worry. He hadn’t meant to be so rough—hadn’t realized how much tension he’d been holding back.

“No, Frank,” Karen huffed out, bringing her hands down from the headboard to bury in his hair. “I won’t be alright until you start moving. I need you now.”

At her words, Frank bit savagely into her shoulder, pulling out quickly and slamming back into her heat. The thrust sent her scooting up the bed rapidly, and Karen had to quickly slam one of her hands against the headboard to keep her head from smacking it.

She couldn’t describe the kind of pleasure his rough thrusts were sending through her, every slam of his hips hitting something deep and primal inside of her. Scrambling for purchase, Karen used her hand pressed against the headboard to push off, meeting Frank on each thrust. Her back bowing off the bed, hips twisting upward, sending him deeper within her.

He was moaning and mumbling nonsense into her shoulder, and through the thick haze of arousal, she caught only snippets of what he was saying, mostly four letter words mixed in with iterations of her name. His voice was erotic in her ear, and Karen was so caught up trying to match his thrusts and listen to his whispered words, she didn’t even realize she was babbling similar thoughts as well.

Frank’s hands were everywhere on her, tweaking her nipples, running down her side, tangling in her hair. When he finally lifted his head from her neck to claim her mouth in a kiss, it was rough and sloppy—saliva, teeth, and tongues everywhere. Karen’s body had never felt so exquisitely used and tortured, but she could feel it all building to an end, her body pulling tight as a bow, a wave of pleasure building up from her core.

“Frank, I’m—I’m so close—” she groaned.

Frank grabbed one of her earlobes between his teeth, biting down. “Let go, Kare” he growled, suddenly pistoning his hips into her even harder and faster than before—impossibly rough. He was like a man on fire, and it felt like heaven. It only took a few more thrusts, Frank whispering something obscene in her ear, and Karen shattered around him. Her orgasm hit her so strong, she briefly felt dissociated from her body, just a whirling storm of pure and visceral pleasure. Karen could have sworn she almost blacked out for a second, coming to with her ears buzzing and her mind clouded. When she was able to shake the haze from her head, she noticed, with some surprise, that she was in a slightly new position.

Frank had shifted back onto his knees, pulling at Karen’s hips until her legs were spread wide and her ass was resting right on the apex of his lap. From her position, Karen was able to lazily stare up at him, watching the bunch and stretch of his chest and arm muscles as he thrust into her languidly, working her through the aftershocks of her orgasm.

“You okay?” He asked, his voice tense.

“Mmm,” Karen stretched, arching up slightly into his gentle thrusts. “I’m liquid.” She rotated her hips in a slow circle, and Frank’s breath hitched. He was unbearably close to his own release. “Take me, Frank.”

That was all he needed.

Frank’s eyes went wild, and his body taut. His hips stuttered forward, picking up the pace until he was thrusting into her hard enough to have her groaning his name again. He moved one hand from her waist, dragging it up to cup her breast, squeezing gently. And in a few more pumps, he was spilling himself inside of her with a deep cry. Karen watched in fascination as his back arched, his hips faltering against her as his release took him in waves, and then he collapsed next to her with a sigh.

All was still for a few moments, nothing but the sound of their labored breathing breaking the silence, then: “Fuuuuck,” Frank groaned, his face buried in the pillow next to Karen’s ear. It was an appreciative exclamation, and she couldn’t stop the chuckle that escaped her—she had been thinking the exact same thing

“Would it be cliché of me to ask why we didn’t do that sooner?” Karen rolled over, burying her face in Frank’s back.

“Yes.” He replied, his voice muffled by the pillow. “Plus, I already know the answer to that question.”

“Oh?” Karen gently bit into his shoulder blade.

“Yeah. Because I’m an idiot.”

Karen laughed, rolling over onto her back and throwing her arms over her head. Frank’s head popped up, and he turned to watch Karen with a smile on his face. She was gorgeous when she laughed—and she was even more gorgeous when she was laughing naked. Laying in bed. Next to him.

A deep wave of satisfaction rolled over him, settling into his gut. This was it—this was exactly what he’d wanted. Karen—happy and satisfied and within arm’s reach.

He folded his arms under the pillow, then rested his head so that he could admire her profile. She was staring up at the ceiling with a smile.

“Karen.”

She turned her head, biting her lip, to look at him.

“Yes, Frank?” There was humor in her voice. She felt buoyant—she felt like something made to float.

“I want to make sure you understood me earlier,” his voice was gentle, but serious. Very serious. “What I said in the alley.”

“Yes?” Karen nodded, telling Frank to go on.

“You have me, Karen. All of me.”

Karen rolled to her side to that she could face Frank, her nose only inches away from his own.

“You have me too, Frank.” She reached forward, snaking her hand under his pillow to grab a hold of his arm. She pulled it out gently, then flattened his palm over her heart. It was rough and calloused, but it was also warm and comforting. Frank closed his eyes. If he concentrated hard enough, he could feel her heartbeat.

“Stay with me tonight.” Karen whispered it, then leaned forward the brush her lips softly against his own—just a feather-light touch.

“Of course.”

He wanted to say that he would stay with her every night, but he settled for wrapping his arms around her and tugging her against his chest.

 Karen’s alarm went off at 5AM on the dot, and she rolled over with a groan. She didn’t even have to open her eyes to know that Frank wasn’t in bed—she’d heard him get up at 4:30, and had been trying to ignore the sounds he was making in the kitchen for the past half hour.

Rolling out of bed, she stretched with her arms high above her head until her back let out a satisfying pop. She picked up Frank’s sweater from the floor, pulling it on before stumbling into the living room.  She felt a deep sense of satisfaction, wearing that sweater. It fell about an inch under the curve of her ass, and it smelled like him—spicy and warm.

“Hey there,” Frank’s voice was rough with morning grit, and it sent an awakening wave of arousal up Karen’s spine. He was standing at the stove in nothing but his boxers, scrambling eggs. She could die happy having seen that sight.

“Morning,” she walked up behind him, slipping her arms around his waist to peer over his shoulder. “I hope all that noise you were making is worth it.”

Frank chuckled. “It’s not my fault you don’t stack your pans properly. All I did was open the cabinet and about fifty of them fell out.”

“Lies,” Karen nuzzled her nose into Frank’s neck. “I don’t even own fifty pans.”

“It’s hyperbole, Page. You’re the writer, aren’t you?” Frank turned his face, kissing the top of Karen’s head.

“It’s too early for hyperbole.”

“Mhmm,” Frank added a handful of shredded cheddar to the frying pan. “Coffee’s in the machine. Have a cup and we’ll try this conversation again.”

“You are a good man.” Karen nipped at his neck before turning around to grab a cup of much-needed caffeine.

 Neither of them had class until 9AM, so they were able to take a leisurely breakfast, sitting across from each other at Karen’s little table, her feet resting in his lap. It had taken longer than normal for them to finish their eggs, as they kept getting distracted making eyes at each other. Which inevitably led to some early-morning kissing.

Their shower had taken much, much longer.

It was unlike any morning-after she’d had before. It was comfortable—it was domestic—and suddenly, Karen could see so clearly what her future with Frank would look like. Could see a long, pleasurable stretch of early mornings laid out before them.

It was 7:30 AM by the time they were ready to leave—Karen to meet with Trish at the campus coffee shop to go over some last minute changes to her IRB proposal, and Frank to head back to his place for some fresh clothes.

Karen was buttoning up her coat by the front door while Frank laced up his boots on the couch.

“By the way, I’m taking the kids to the park after work today,” Frank stood up, yanking the leg of his jeans down to cover his boots. “Gonna help Leo practice her pitching. And Frankie’s still trying to learn to skate.”

“Sounds like fun,” Karen began winding her scarf around her neck.

“Should be,” Frank walked over, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, facing Karen. “So you coming with us?”

Karen’s hands paused in their task, and she looked up at Frank with widened eyes.

“You want me to?” She kept her voice light, though her heart was hammering heavily in her chest.

“Karen,” Frank’s voice was disapproving. “Do you really need me to answer that?”

“Well am I—,” she furrowed her brow. “Am I allowed to? Like, is Maria okay with that? Some random woman hanging around with her kids?”

“Damnit, Karen.” Frank was suddenly in front of her, grabbing onto her upper arms with both hands. There was a fierce look on his face. “This thing is serious. You and me? It’s serious. Maria knows that.”

And all she could do was kiss him—deep and slow and filled with all of the joy fit to burst out of her.

When she pulled away, Frank smiled. “Is that a yes?”

“That’s a yes.”

As they left the apartment, heading out to face a brand new day, Karen realized that she never actually got around to telling Frank that she loved him. That was okay, she decided. They had all the time in the world.

(It turned out that she wouldn’t actually get the chance to say it first. It would slip out of Frank’s mouth a week later, as he watched her pour antiseptic over Frankie Jr.’s scrapped knee. Karen would finish bandaging the boy’s wound, give him a reassuring pat, and send him on his way before turning around and jumping into his father’s arms, whispering “I love you, I love you, I love you” with her head nuzzled into this neck).

#kastle #kastle au #frank castle #karen page #the punisher

[emokidcake]

Undercover (Calum Hood AU) // Chapter 2 - Calum

word count: 2.5k (sorry nothing is in bold. i'm updating from my phone) - "Get ready, son. Our lives are about to change." That was the first thing Calum's father had told him when they'd arrived in New York City almost two years ago. The whole family had been shaking with anticipation the whole plane ride, talking excitedly about what their new lives would be like. Calum's sister had rambled on and on about how she was going to become famous. His parents had watched on happily with a sparkle in their eyes as they sipped the complementary bottled water offered by the airline. Calum had only sat back in his seat, watching his sister but not truly hearing what she was saying. His own mind was running wild with thoughts and possibilities.  Now, here they were, two years later, and Calum's father was about to be sworn in as the new mayor of New York City. It seemed that their lives really were going to change. When Calum and his family had first moved to New York, he hadn't expected his life to change that much. He had only expected to go to a new school, make new friends, and live in a different house. Sure, he had dreamed up countless possibilities, but even he knew they were far-fetched and unlikely. As a kid, he had always dreamed of what New York City was like in the flesh. He'd always watched the ball drop on TV, and marveled at all the people that filled Times Square. He'd dreamed of tall buildings and bright lights and famous people. He'd dreamed of watching Broadway shows and playing catch with his father in Central Park and watching street performers. New York City was the place he most wanted to visit in the United States. In fact, it was the place he most wanted to visit in the whole world. However, the reality of New York was much different than he had expected. His father rarely did any activities with him, always too occupied with his political campaigning. His parents had sent him to an all boys school, so his hopes of meeting girls were flushed down the toilet. He had only ever been to Times Square once, and even then it was only to help spread the word about his father's mayoral campaign. The tall buildings were beautiful, but they lost their appeal after a while. The only famous person he had ever seen was the weather lady from the local news channel. He had never attended a Broadway show, and had never even gotten close to playing catch with his father. He had only seen a handful of street performers, and none of them had had any real talent. His three trips to the once dreamy Central Park were brief. The first time he went, it began to pour rain ten minutes after he had arrived. The second time he went was once again for his father's mayoral campaign. And the third time he had gone was in the current moment, as he sat under the shade of a tall tree with his best friends sitting in front of him. He thought to himself that being there with his friends was by far the best trip he had taken to Central Park yet. "No, Michael," Calum's closest friend, Ashton said. He was sitting cross legged in the grass, leaned toward their other friend Michael, who was currently clutching an acoustic guitar in his arms. "It's C, E, G, not A, C, G."  Michael sighed and strummed the notes again in the correct order. Ashton gave him a satisfied grin and refocused his gaze back on his notebook, where he was doodling something that Calum couldn't see.  Calum tore his eyes from his curly haired friend and gazed out upon the land in front of him. The grass was a brownish green color, having long faded from the vibrant green of spring. December was almost upon them, but it had yet to snow in New York City. It was one of the rare days where the temperature was in the mid-fifties. Calum loved this kind of weather because it was cold enough to wear a sweater, but warm enough that he wouldn't need an extra jacket.  Children were running around in the grass, playing ball and tag and any other game that their young minds had created. Some people were also sitting under the trees. Some were reading books and others were scrolling through their smartphones. Couples were walking all about, holding hands and chatting. Calum spotted a little girl and her father buying a hot dog from a vendor on the opposite side of the lawn. He smiled slightly to himself. "Earth to Calum!" He heard a voice exclaim. He snapped back to reality to see his other friend, Luke, looking at him expectantly.  "What?" Calum said. "I was just telling you to tell your dad I said 'Congrats'," Luke said. Calum only nodded. He almost told Luke he could tell him himself, but he knew that his father was too busy for trivial things like meeting his friends. They had been friends for nearly one and a half years and his father was yet to meet them.  "I will," he said in a monotone voice. He would never say it out loud, but he could care less about his father becoming the mayor. He kept his mouth shut to uphold the supportive son persona that he and his family had worked so hard to build. Actually, Calum knew he would have been happier if his father was just a normal dad. He wanted his father to be around all the time, offering to take him out to lunch or even asking him for help with chores, such as yard work or cleaning the gutters. However, his dreams of having a normal father faded to grey when they moved from Australia to New York. They traded out their home with a one acre back yard for a penthouse apartment with a ton of windows. The only "yard work" that needed to be done was the watering of the plants on the balcony that overlooked the city. "Incoming!" Luke said softly. By now, Calum knew what this meant. His eyes instantly began scanning the area before they landed on a tall girl with long, jet black hair and tanned skin. She was walking confidently with her head held high. Despite the cool weather, she was wearing a tight jean skirt and a flowy white tank top. As she neared closer to the four boys, Michael stood up from the grass, brushing off the back of his legs. He practically ran toward the girl, and instantly pulled her into a passionate kiss. The three boys groaned loudly. Despite her beautiful and somewhat angelic appearance, Calum, Ashton, and Luke referred to her as 'the Piranha'.  Calum couldn't even remember the last time he had spoken her real name. The Piranha had been in Calum's life ever since he had met Michael. She and Michael had been infatuated with eachother since middle school, or so Calum had been told. She was a fierce, sassy girl with pale brown eyes and a stunning smile. A smile that she often used to her advantage when it came to Michael.  She was always asking him for things, whether it be for him to come over while he was busy with the guys or to buy her something new. All she had to do was flash her trademark smile and Michael was wrapped around her finger all over again. She was always complaining and gossiping, though the boys had learned to ignore her. They'd been dealing with her for years, and they had since grown immune to her cynicism.  Despite her personal flaws, she and Michael's relationship was by far the worst relationship he had ever witnessed. They were constantly fighting. They were both extremely jealous and possessive, which did not add up to a healthy relationship. Whenever she saw Michael even speaking to another girl, she flipped out and screamed at him. Any time Michael would even think about breaking up with her, she'd sink her teeth into him even further. Just like a piranha. "Hello, boys," she said cheerfully. She was standing above them clutching Michael's hand as if her life depended on it. The three boys only nodded back at her.  "Sorry to interrupt your little..." she began, glancing around at the scene. The guitar now sat abandoned in the grass, with numerous notebooks scattered near it. "Whatever this is." "No need to be sorry, Piranha," Luke said with a smirk. Her face turned into a scowl at the word 'Piranha'. The boys had been calling her that for years, yet the term still made her extremely angry. "My name is-" she began angrily, but Ashton cut her off. "We know. But calling you Piranha is so much more satisfying." She scoffed and rolled her eyes, before turning around and dragging Michael along with her. He turned back toward the boys and mouthed a quick apology before turning around and jogging to keep up with her long strides.   "I don't think I'll ever get sick of that," Calum said, leaning back on his elbows in the shade.  "Me either," Luke and Ashton said in unison. *** Calum arrived home to an empty apartment, as per usual. The whole apartment was completely silent. All that could be heard was the telltale signs of the city below. The hustle and bustle could always be heard from inside the penthouse, even in the dead of night. It was as if the city was in a continuous loop of commotion. It was something Calum had grown to find comforting. Despite how crazy his life got, he could always count on the sounds of the city to be there.  Calum walked past the many sets of tall windows that looked out over the tall buildings and lights of the heart of New York City. Being on the top floor of the building had its perks, one being the incredible view. The penthouse was always full of natural light due to the majority of the walls being made up of clear glass windows. The curtains were always drawn, allowing the bright sunlight and flashing city lights to stream in 24 hours a day. Sometimes Calum would just stand in front of one of the many windows and stare down at the streets below, watching people from above with curiosity. He couldn't help but feel like a king as he stared down at the tiny dots below him.  Out of habit, Calum tossed his bag onto the leather sofa and headed toward the windows. The sun was shining brightly now, just beginning to peek out from behind the clouds.He squinted at the bright light and instead focused his gaze on his own reflection in the glass. He studied the sharpness of his own jaw, the small imperfections on his skin, the slope of his nose. It was something he often did, though he wasn't sure what he was expecting to get out of it. He often only succeeded in making himself feel insecure. He put up a front around others. He acted like nothing could bother him; that nothing could hurt him. He never allowed himself to show emotion around people he wasn't comfortable with. He couldn't even remember the last time he had truly cried or laughed. He smiled at people when passing them or greeting them. It's common decency. If he saw someone sad or angry, he would try to comfort them. He wasn't heartless. He had a passionate, sympathetic heart. He did things for others because he was raised right, and he would want someone to do the same for him.  However, when it came to his own emotions, it was like there was a brick wall surrounding his heart. An impenetrable brick wall that was enforced with steel beams. Calum's phone suddenly began buzzing in his pocket. A photo of his mother appeared on the screen. Calum clicked the green button as quickly as he could. His mother rarely called him while she was at work, so he figured it was important.  "Hello?"  "Hi, sweetie." His mother, Joy, said. "Is everything okay, Mom?" he asked with a hint of nervousness in his voice. Joy chuckled. "What, I can't call my son unless there's a crisis?" she joked. Calum halfheartedly chuckled, still wondering in the back of his mind what the true intention of his mother's call was. He knew she wouldn't call just to talk about her day, no matter how badly Calum wished she would every once in a while. "It's great to hear your voice, Calum. But yes, there is a reason I'm calling," she said. Calum sighed, but was not surprised.  "I just wanted to remind you about your appointment with the tailor at 6," she said. "You need to look like a respectable young man during the ceremony." Calum nodded, although his mother couldn't hear him. He didn't know why she felt the need to call him and remind him. She had already texted him twice throughout the day, taped a note to his bedroom door the previous day, and reminded him once again before she had left for work that morning. "Yes, mom. I'll be there." He could practically see her smiling in satisfaction. "Good, sweetie," she said. "I'll be home by the time you're back from the tailor's. Anything sound good for dinner?" Calum knew that responding was pointless. She had done this countless times before. She'd ask him what he wanted her to cook for dinner, only for her to get caught up in some miscellaneous project and profusely apologize before ordering takeout. On the rare nights that she did have time to cook, she simply let Calum serve himself and shut herself in the office to work. She always, without fail, would take her dinner into the study and eat at her desk as she typed away on the computer. Calum wished that for just one night, he and his mother and father could sit at the table and eat together. "Whatever sounds good to you is fine with me, Mom," Calum said. Sadly, this statement did not only apply to dinner. Calum had spent so long going with the flow and agreeing to the things his parents wanted that he barely had time to be on his own and develop his own interests. The only hobby in his life that he had to himself was music. He longed to be his own person, no longer under his parent's control and doing what he wanted to do rather than what he felt they'd want him to do.  It suddenly struck him that he was 18 years old and still had no idea who he was. And that was something that he wanted to change.  ___________________________________________ A/N: Once again, nothing too exciting yet. I'm still trying to let you get to know the characters. As mentioned, Calum is 18 at the start of the story. His age will progress through the story but as of now it is very important that he is still a teen.

#emokidcake #calum hood #calum hood imagine #5sos #calum #luke hemmings #luke hemmings imagine #ashton irwin #ashton irwin imagine #michael clifford imagine #michael clifford #5sos au #5sos writing #5sos fanfiction #5sos preferences #5sos imagines

[thegreatestofheck]

Old Things Come

“Father, I won’t leave you.” Those were the last words Anakin Skywalker heard. They were, of all the words and combinations of words in all the galaxies, the only words he needed to hear. 

He regretted doing many things, saying many words, thinking many thoughts, feeling many emotions. But now, looking at the innocent face before him, his son’s face, there were only two things he regretted. The first being not spending the time he should have with Luke. The second being unable to see his daughter before he had to go. He looked into his son’s eyes, one last time, and smiled. At least, he tried. 

And the world became dark. His last sight in the cruel, dark world that consumed his soul was the goodness of his son. Then he faded into the unknown, falling into deep, endless slumber. 

Anakin awoke, the sun shining on his face. It was a strange thing. He hadn’t felt the sun in so many years. He hadn’t felt the sun since before the Empire. It was a wonderful thing. And when he opened his eyes, they began to water. He was on Naboo, that was evident. The rolling green hills, the running waters, the large trees. He hardly realized using his arms to sit up until he’d done it. He looked down and found no burned flesh, no robotic arms, nothing out of the ordinary, just hands. It was almost enough to make him smile. His legs were there too. And his hair. Everything about him was the way it was supposed to be. 

“Ani?” His heart leapt in his chest. Anakin scrambled to his feet, water returning to his eyes. Standing behind him, hand over her stomach, clinging to a tree as if her life depended on it, wearing the same blue smock she always wore, was Shmi Skywalker. Anakin saw her and his heart fell. Shame ate at him. What would she think of him? Did she know what he’d done? 

“Anakin.” She said his name with a smile. It was the same smile she used to smile when he was younger. She had the same eyes, smoldering, beautiful, compassionate. Anakin’s knees felt weak, his legs wobbling beneath him. He fell to his knees, tears rolling down his face. Shmi ran towards her son as fast as her legs could carry her. She slid to the ground, not caring how dirty her smock would get. She wrapped her arms around her sobbing son, holding him as close to her as she possibly could. 

“I’m sorry, Mom,” he sobbed. “I’m so sorry.” 

“Shh, shh. It’s alright, Love. You did well,” she whispered, kissing his head. Her heart broke with every body shaking sob that came from his mouth. Finally, she pealed him off of her and lifted his tear-stained face to look at hers. 

“Ani, stop your crying,” she cooed, wiping the stray tears from his cheeks. “You have done so much good. So much good. And you’re here now, with me. With us.”

He wanted to ask her who the ‘us’ was, but that became clear seconds later. Over the hill came a crowd of people. In the front was Qui-Gon Jin, an old friend who had died when he was young. He looked no different than Anakin remembered him. Mace Windu stood behind him, arms crossed as they usually were, but he wore a proud smile. Yoda was there as well, green and wrinkled as ever. Ashoka, his padawan stood with tears in her large eyes. He had hoped she survived Order 66. Behind them all was his best friend, his mentor, his brother. 

“Obi-wan.” Anakin stood. He and his friend met with a loving embrace. “Brother. I’m sorry I killed you.” 

Obi-wan laughed, pulling away from his friend and putting his hand on his shoulder. 

“You only killed me because I let you,” he said. It felt strange to laugh, but somehow, Anakin managed it. Obi-wan looked both old and young at the same time. He looked like the old man Anakin as Darth Vader had fought and killed, but he looked like the young Knight who had called him brother. 

The long awaited greetings continued. He apologized to Windu (more than once). Qui-gon cracked a few sarcastic jokes. Anakin was amazed to see Shmi and Qui-gon standing rather close, smiling at each other in a way that he had never seen his mother smile at anyone. 

Yoda hit Anakin in the shins with his walking stick. Yoda looked older than when Anakin knew him. That made sense. Anankin hadn’t seen him for 20 years. 

“Thank you for looking out for my son,” Anakin told him, after they laughed off the stick-to-shin greeting. Yoda grumbled and nodded, as he usually did. Then he did something Anakin had never seen. Yoda smiled. It wasn’t anything flashy or beautiful, but it was a smile. 

“Good, in the end, you did. Please, I am. Wrong about, was I.” 

Anakin nodded in gratitude. He was pleased to see Ashoka. Before he could even apologize she told him all was forgiven. 

“I’m just glad to see you.” 

Surrounded by so many people, Anakin’s heart leapt with joy. He was here and they were here. His friends, his family. They weren’t angry. They still cared for him. But there was someone missing, someone Anakin wanted to see, far more than he wanted to see anyone else. He couldn’t help but look around, past those greeting him, past the long dead inside jokes, past the loving eyes of those he lost. Where was she? If anyone deserved to live in this Naboo-like afterlife, it was Padmé Amidala. 

Obi-Wan managed to catch Anakin alone for a few seconds. 

“Don’t be afraid,” he whispered. “She’s here.” 

That didn’t calm Anakin’s nerves any. He didn’t see her. She didn’t look like she was here. 

He gazed across the grassy hills, seeing the lake off in the distance, the mountains beyond the hills. Giving up hope that she was truly there, Anakin turned back to his friends. He was disappointed in her absence, but the rest of his friends and family were there and that was beyond important to him. 

And then, as if in a dream, her voice drifted out over the valley, through the grass like wind, through the air like song. As soon as he heard her voice, every weight was lifted from his chest, every fear disappearing from his body.  

“Ani!” 

He was afraid, at first, when he saw her. She was standing by a tree, dress and hair blowing in the breeze. The talking among his friends ceased and they stepped away from him. Anakin locked eyes with the woman he loved so dearly. She was unreadable, like she always was, like she had to be. She was just as beautiful as she had always been, just as regal. 

“Pamdé.” Her name came out as a whisper, but the wind carried it all the way to her ears. And she was running, as fast as her legs could go. By the stars, she looked so beautiful. He must look hideous. 

Anakin was afraid, far more so than he had been when it was his mother running to him. He wanted to be run because, force be with him, everything he had done to her and her children. Padmé would hate him. Padmé would reach him and slap him across the face. She would kill him and hit him and scream at him because he had ruined their lives. He had hurt so many people. He had-

But when she reached him, he could see tears running down her face. She launched herself off the ground, throwing her arms around his neck. Anakin caught her and held her in his arms. She held him closer, closer, closer. 

Anakin buried his face in her neck, inhaling her scent. 20 years and she still smelled the same. 

Nothing else matters, not now, not ever, because he has her, because she’s there with him. They’re together. She curled her fingers in his hair. Anakin lowered them both to the ground, unable to stand on his own feet any longer. She pulled away from the hug and pressed her lips against his. They had spent years apart, years alone. Every kiss they should have shared in that time, was fulfilled in this one, this one single kiss. It was heaven. 

“You still love me?” He whispered in her ear. She held his face in her hands. 

“I never stopped.” 

He hugged her again, not wanting to let her go. He started to cry again because this woman was so much more than he had ever thought. He had killed thousands of people and assisted in the deaths of millions. He had tortured her children and made their life hell. He had done so much wrong, but she still loved him. She forgave him. 

Holding her husband as close as she could, Padmé stifled sobs. He didn’t deserve to die, not yet. He had just met her son. He had just shown Luke his true colors. Her daughter had never met her father. It wasn’t fair, none of it. With her and Anakin gone, her children now have to face the cruel and awful world alone. Anakin knows his children have to live with his misdeeds and he feels like a failure. 

“I’m sorry,” he told her quietly. “I failed them.” 

She pulled away from the hug again because now she had to make him understand. 

“Our children are strong, like their father,” she said. “They are compassionate and they are willing to throw everything to hell for the ones they love.” 

“Like their mother,” he added with a smile. She brushed his hair from his eyes. 

“Yes. They are like their mother and they are like their father. They will survive. And they will join us soon. Until then....”

It’s peace and bliss. 

Anakin holds his wife close to him every chance he gets. He doesn’t ever want to let her go because he’s afraid of what will happen when he does. He waits with her and with his friends and with his family. He waits for his kids to join them so he could make up for everything he’d done. 

Until then, he kisses his wife and laughs with his friends. 

And for the first time in what seems like forever, he breathes a sigh of joy. 

#star wars #anakin skywalker #padme amidala #anidala #afterlife au #fandom heaven #oneshot #a happy ending they deserve #skywalker #shmi skywalker #obi wan kenobi #return of the jedi

[i-amusemyself]

All 100 Questions.

Bloody hell okay thank you!!! 😄😄😄

1. Is a kiss considered cheating?Yeah, Id say so.

2. Have you ever faked orgasm?Aint never had anyone to fake it with 😂 Ngl tho its the sort of thing id do (which is terrible i know)

3. If you could have one super power, what would it be?Mind reading.

4. Do you think youre gonna be rich in 7-8-9 years?I’d be worried if I didnt have more money than I have now, but idk.

5. Tell us some funny drunk story?Oh jeez erm, I don’t really have any 😂 My friends occasionally remind me of the time at the school christmas ball one of the business teachers turned up and I quickly ran away while aggressively whispering “oh no he knows im a lesbian, aimee told him”.

6. Why are you no longer together with your ex?We work better as friends, its less stressful.

7. If you had to choose one way to die what would it be?See I’m really torn with this question. Part of me thinks itd be nice just to go in my sleep, with a heart attack or something. Its quick and painless you know.But equally I wonder if it would be better to maybe, like, have something where I knew I was gonna die. Because then I’d have time to try and do everything on my bucket list and say goodbye to everyone. Also maybe at that point I’d welcome death lmao.

8. What are your current goals?Idk? Im waiting on A level results which I really hope I’ve done well in.I hope to make lots of new friends at uni and learn how to look after myself quickly I guess. I dont know.

9. Do you like someone?I like a lot of people 😆

10. Who was the last person to disappoint you?Im really not sure??? There arent many people I expect anything from and even then my standards are pretty low. So like, I dont really get disappointed by people, only occasionally by situations.

11. Do you like your body?I could hate it a lot more, but I wouldnt say I’m happy with my body or general appearance. I struggle a lot with my features and my weight and the scars I have (which is ridiculous but thats what mental illness is)

12. Can you keep a diet?I mean if I wasnt on the diet im on rn (with lots of restrictions) id probs be in hospital 😂

13. If the whole world was listening to you right now, what would you say?Honestly id pass out under the pressure of it 😂 idk, id tell them all to take a chill pill but no one would listen.

14. Do you work?Nah, i had 3 jobs at once last yeah but now I’ve ended up with none.

15. If you could choose only one food to eat for the rest of your life what would it be?Either garlic bread or chocolate I cant decide!

16. Would you get a tattoo?I’m v much planning on getting one in the near future so yh!!

17. Something you dont mind spending all your money on?Plane tickets.

18. Can you drive?Yeah! I havent driven since I passed my test, but hopefully I havent forgotten how to that quickly!

19. When was the last time someone told you youre beautiful?…I cant remember. Thats depressing (not that I blame them).

20. What was the last thing you cried for?Argh I have no idea why I was crying, my brain just wasnt doing its job so everything made me stressed and sad.

21. Do you keep a journal?I keep a blog for diary posts but besides that nah

22. Is life fun?If you allow it to be, yeah

23. Is farting in front of people irrelevant?Tf is that supposed to mean? I guess if you know the person well it is.

24. Whats your dream car?I dont know about Dream Car, id have to research it loads to decide what my absolute fave it. Although rn I’d really love a ‘67 VW beetle bc theyre small and cheap on insurance 😂

25. Are grades in school important?My own grades are super important to me, (to the point its probably unhealthy) but in terms of how the people around me do, it doesnt really matter to me. I mean, I want everyone to do well, but I dont judge people based on it.

26. Describe your crush.She’s funny and all around awesome and interesting and good at deep convos and beautiful and way out of my league.

27. What was the last book/movie that really impressed you?The last one I read called The Bell Jar. It was unlike anything I’ve ever read and made me think about a lot of things. Also I related a lot with the main character.

28. What was your last lie?Eh, probably “im fine”.

29. Dumbest lie you ever told?Idk?? I only keep track of the good lies 😉

30. Is crying in front of people embarrasing?It shouldnt be but yeah, I try my best not to.

31. Something you did and are proud of?Umm, idk im p proud of playing basketball and representing my region/training with england. But i quit that so 👏 dicks out for my regrettable decisions 👏

32. Whats your favourite cocktail?Never had one

33. Something you are good at?Annoying people and being clingy 😂 also maths ig

34. Do you like small kids?It depends on the child, the day of the week, the lunar cycle, my menstrual cycle, how hungry I am…Yh legit sometimes I hate them sometimes I love them.

35. How are you feeling right now?Great omg I just got my best friend to watch mamma mia and now shes high on life next to me.

36. What would you name your daughter/son?🤐 there are a couple of names for girls I like and like 2 boys names? But i dont wanna say bc theyre embarrasing.

37. What do you need to be happy?Good company, good food and possibly music.

38. Is there someone you want to punch in the face right now?Theres always at least 3 people I would love to punch 😂

39. What was the last gift you recieved?My best friend got me a necklace and I almost cried its so beautiful

40. What was the last gift you gave?The gift of my company @only-slightly-dangerous 😉😉😉

41. What was the last concert you went to?I went to to see Amber Run in february

42. Favourite place to shop at?Um, as in shop? A place called blue banana probs (england’s hot topic smh)

43. Who inspires you?Kaitlyn Alexander bc they helped me to understand who I am and how I feel and to be loud and proud about it.And Luke Cutforth bc he’s so open about his mental health and struggles with self harm but hes so happy now.

44. How old were you when you first got drunk?18 lmao

45. How old were you when you first got high?It aint happened yet (and i dont really want it to)

46. How old were you when you first had sex?It aint happened yet smh

47. When was your first kiss?As far as im concerned never

48. Something you want to do until the end this year?What….does this mean….? Idk???

49. Is there something in the past you wish you hadnt done?It’s more stuff I wish I had done tbh. I suppose I said things I shouldnt have or got too involved in drama, but you kinda need all that secondary school shit to learn from it

50. Post a selfie.Lmao nah fam

51. Who are you most comfortable around?My best friend by a mile. Privacy who?

52. Name one thing that terrifies you.Abandonment without explanation.

53. What kind of books do you read?Anything non fiction about medicine/being a doctor/disease/psycopaths.Besides that whatever has been recommended.

54. What would you tell your 12 y/o self?1. Youre gay2. You and I both know you arent joking about being “a dude trapped in a girls body” stop laughing it off and confront it.3. Stand up for yourself.4. Chill out.5. Laugh a lot more omg

55. What is your favourite flower?It’s between petunias and roses

56. Any bad habits you have?Not answering peoples messages unless theyre Certain Person A or Certain Person B.

57. What kind of people are you attracted to?Ones that are out of my league and could kick my ass apparently. Also ones that are kind, listen and think a lot I guess

58. What was the last thing you cried for?Already answered

59. Is there something you dont eat? A food that truly disgusts you?I dont eat loads of stuff bc my guts hate me 😂 but besides all that I’m actually the worlds least picky eater. The only thing I dont like is raw tomato. Thats it.

60. Are you in love?I wish

61. Something you find romantic?All the clichés ngl 😂 just anything that says “i love you” or “i was thinking about you” really

62. How long was your longest relationship?Like 4 months? Barely long term.

63. What are 3 things that irritate you about the same sex?Oh jeez i hate these theyre so stereotype-y1. Bitching2. Not supporting each other3. ….?

64. What are 3 things that irritate you about the opposite sex?1. Not supporting each other2. Massive egos3. Yelling

65. What are you saving money for?Uni so I dont starve to death!

66. How would you describe your bad side?Hmm, idk, it depends what someone did to get on my bad side. I’d say stubborn, bitter and angry tho usually.

67. Are you actually a good person? Why?I could be wrong but I think so long as someone has morally good intentions they are usually a good person, whether they always succeed or not. So yeah, I like to think I am.

68. What are you living for?My friends and the hope I have for my future.

69. Have you ever done anything illegal?Piracy? Thats it.

70. Do you like your money?….did I type this question wrong or??

71. Have you ever made someone feel bad about themselves intentionally?Okay, the honest answer? Yeah. When I was a lot younger and less mature and someone said something that hurt me, I tried to retaliate with equally hurtful comments. I like to think I wouldnt do that now.

72. Ever sent nudes?Lol no

73. Have you ever cheated on someone?Hell no

74. Favourite candy?All candy hates me 😂

75. Is there a blog you visit everyday or almost every day? Tag them.Yeah @oneshappyplace knows I regularly spam her with notes in search or Quality Memes (im so sorry)

76. Do you play any computer games? Whats ur fave?Nah, as if I have time 😂

77. Favourite TV series?Argh I canny choose? I love the IT Crowd, I love supernatural, I love Sherlock, I love in the flesh…

78. Are you religious? Does God exist?I’m not religious and personally I don’t believe there’s a god or higher power but I could be wrong.

79. What was the last book you read? Did it impress you and why?The Bell Jar. See 27.

80. What do you think about vegetarians and veganism?I respect it I guess? At one point I was p much a vegetarian until I had to restrict my diet sooo. Tho I could never be one now, let alone a vegan.

81. How long have you been on tumblr?Too long 😂😂😂 Like 3 or 4 years?

82. Do you like chinese food?Love it!

83. McDonalds or Subway?(Never been to subway so) McDonalds.

84. Vodka or Whisky?(Never had whisky so) Vodka.

85. Alcohol or Drugs?(Never had drugs so) Alcohol.

86. Ever been out of your country?I’m currently in the USA so yeah 😂

87. Meaning behind your blog name?It’s p self explanatory and also v true

88. What are you scared of?Abandonment, deep water, knives, toys with battery packs.

89. Last time you were insulted?Ugh, probs like when I met up with a load of school friends for our leaver’s ball.

90. Most traumatic experience?I’d rather not answer that lmao (plus itd take a long time to type)

91. Perfect date idea?Chilling and listening to each other’s favourite songs while coexisting and eating fast food 😂 that or ikea ngl

92. Favourite app on your phone?Tumblr. Even though I hate it, it also keeps me sane.

93. What colour are the walls in your room?White and blue.

94. Do you watch youtube? Who is your favourite youtuber?I love so many youtubers omg. Lukeisnotsexy, mileschronicles, realisticallysaying and filthy frank are faves

95. Share your favourite quote.Pick your fights.

96. What is the meaning of life?To live life to the fullest so youre happy and have minimal regrets. Also to be kind and helpful so even if you dont change the world you might help someone else to.

97. Do you like horror movies?I think….? But I’m not good at watching them alone 😂

98. Have you ever made your mum cry? What happened?Eh…again, would rather not answer (we got some nice supressed memories here)

99. Do you feel lucky or special in any way?I’m still totally in awe of how lucky I am to have met my best friend from 3000 miles away. Like, the probability of it was so so slim and yet here we are.

100. Can you keep a secret?I think so yh! It’s something that I consider super important.

[itisannak]

‘Lie to me’ by 5sos (Luke Hemmings Smut/ The Youngblood Series)

Summary: Luke makes (Y/N) pick between him and her boyfriend.  (Smut /  Unprotected Sex / Spanking / Oral; Female Receiving) (Request) (Words: 2k) (Part 2: Ghost of you , Part 3: If walls could talk , Part 4: Better Man)

Dressed in a little black dress and a leather jacket per his request, I knock on his front door, looking around me to see if anyone is watching me. I wait for him to open the door, getting jittery and anxious about seeing him tonight. With my boyfriend back in town in a couple of hours, Luke's booty call was the worst thing that could happen, but he has such power over me that I got in my car and drove to his place without realizing it.

Luke opens the door, quickly pulling me into the house without a word. I chew on my bottom lip looking at his face as he tenses up, while he removes my jacket, dropping it to the ground. "You are late." He growls leaning down to grab my chin and yanking my head up. "I am sorry. I came as fast as..." I begin but he places his thumb on my lips, stopping me. "You are sorry what, little slut?" He demands, hissing through greeted teeth. "I am sorry I am late, Sir." I mumble. I watch his lips form a smirk, revealing how pleased he is with the phrase. "Good." He growls, pulling me to the wall. My back hits the hard cold surface making me squeal in pain. Before I can recover from the blast, I am with my chest on the wall, dress hitched over my ass, and Luke humming pleased. "Looks great. Let's see if you can take it today..." He whispers, pressing his body upon mine. I feel his hard-on press against my ass, making me grind on him. His hand lands on my buttcheek, making me yelp. "Come on little whore, I know your ass can take a couple of slaps, can't it?" He asks, running his hand soothingly over the part he just slapped. I nod my head and stick my ass out for him, knowing that this will please him. His arm is propped up against the curve of my waist, pressing my chest on the wall. "I see you get it easily." He comments, raising his hand and landing it on my ass again.

The first slap almost never hurts and he seems to know it, starting me with a mild force. Taking his time to rub on my ass, the arm that was on my waist now reaching to pull at my hair. "Does your boyfriend know you like it rough? Can his vanilla ass give it right to you?" He growls, the slap delivered on my ass being fully forced. My skin feels like it's on fire, the stinging now being more intense, but still not pushing me to my edge. "No." I moan, choking as the next slap is delivered right after the previous. I turn my head over my shoulder, trying to look at him, but the hand tangled in my hair forces my head back to place. "He doesn't know how to please you, does he? He doesn't know where to touch you, does he?" He asks again; we've been through those questions in the past, but I guess he constantly needs assurance. "I asked you a question and I am expecting an answer." He growls, spanking me one more time, his hand squeezing my ass after it lands on it. "He doesn't, he doesn't." I scream, my body sliding down the wall. "Who do you belong to?" He asks, snatching my head back. I have to catch my breath before answering, but Luke seems to ignore that. "I said, who do you belong to?" He growls, slapping my ass again. Tears roll down my cheeks by now, with every slap I jolt up. "You, I belong to you." I cry. I hear him chuckle, satisfied by my response. He releases my hair, stroking his hand over my bum softly to soothe the redness and stinging. Hooking his fingers in my panties, he pulls them down, kneeling down as he lowers them. "Fuck, you are dripping. Your underwear is almost sticking to your pretty cunt." He comments, digging his nails in my flesh. I gasp, chills running down my spine. Once my underwear reaches my knees, his hand sticks between my lips, making his fingers coated with wetness. He presses his hand and moves it back and forth, giving me a little something to make my stomach knot. "Don't let those roll down your legs." He orders before he dips his tongue between my folds. I scream in pleasure, trying to claw on the wall in front of me. He rolls my clit with his tongue, slurping on my wetness. I grind against his face, doing everything I can to get as much pleasure as possible. "Fuck, this is so good." I choke. Luke hums before he traces my hole with his tongue. Thrusting it inside me, I feel like my body is on fire, goosebumps erupting all over my skin. His hands grope my ass, massaging it softly. My eyes are shut and my face is pressed against the wall, completely giving in. I feel my throat drying up and my blood running thick inside me. "I am so close..." I fight for breath.

Luke gets up before I could cum, ruining everything for me. I almost snap at him, but then I remember the last time I did that, I had a bruised ass for a week. Thankfully, my boyfriend was out of town touring and it didn't give us away. "You will cum when I tell you to, you know the rules." He groans, spinning me around to face him. I part my lips and nod, enjoying this rough look on him. "Good girl. You are such a good girl for daddy, aren't you?" He smirks, stroking my face in circles. "I am, daddy." I reply, smiling at him. He leans down to kiss me, beginning softly. His tongue traces my bottom lip as he unzips my dress, fingertips grazing my naked skin. I let him slip his tongue in my mouth, granting him full dominance over my body; not that it was needed, he already does whatever he wants with my body.

The kiss turns passionate, he is kissing me almost like his life depends on this particular kiss. My hands find their way to his body, but he quickly grabs them and puts them together. He stares at me angrily; I can't read him right now, today is unlike any other day. Not breaking eye contact, he presses my body more on the wall, picking me up and wrapping my legs around his waist.

Thumb pressed against my throat, he makes me look at him. "Are you going to be a good slut for me?" He asks me, unzipping his jeans. I nod, parted lips and walls still spasming from the ruined high. The tip of his cock grazes between my lips, the only thing keeping me steady on the wall being his body. "Use words, princess." He orders. I feel his precum oozes from the tip, my wetness mixing with it as he rubs his cock along my hole. "I am, daddy. I am going to be so good for you. Just, give me your cock, please." I plead, edging closer. "Oh, I am princes... I just need to hear from your lips how bad you want my cock. Tell me babygirl, how bad do you want my thick cock to stretch your tight walls? How bad do you want my tip hitting your back wall? How bad do you want me to cum deep inside you, make you feel my cock throb?" He asks, teasing me as he kisses my exposed skin. "Please, Luke, don't do that to me right now." I whine weakly. He slaps my cheek, lightly, making my eyes go wide. "Do you think you are the one in charge here, pretty girl? Do you think that you can tell me what to do and what not? Do you need a reminder of who you belong to?" He asks; his pupils are fully blown, darker than ever. "No... Just, please... Let me feel your cock. Please." I gasp.

Luke smirks and slams inside me, giving me no time to adjust. Fully in and then out, he takes his time before he thrusts in, biting his lip as he enjoys me melting into a puddle in front of him. The moment he thrusts his hips on mine, driving his cock deep inside me, my hands go o the back of his neck, gripping tightly until my nails are leaving marks on his skin. I hear him groan in frustration, throwing his head back. His thick veins pulse against my walls, making my stomach tumble. Fuck, he just started and I already am going mad. "My little whore. Tell me what you are." He demands, slamming hard inside me. "Your slut." I cry, rolling my hips on his. "Louder, I need my neighbors to know." He groans. "Your slut. Your fucking slut, your perfect little toy." I almost scream, my voice breaking at the end from the pleasure as Luke hits right on my g-spot. "Fuck. Please do that again." I scream, my toes curling. Luke chuckles and slams his hips against mine, his skin slapping on my skin, and his body clenching as my walls begin tightening around him. "You like that, babygirl?" He asks cockily. "Yes daddy, so much. I am so close, please, let me cum..." I plead, feeling the knot in my stomach about to snap once more. Luke just smiles at me, leaning down to kiss me as he moves his hips sloppily.

I cum, biting his lip as my body jiggles and jolts. My nails dig in his skin as my head falls back. I scream his name between curses, feeling like my whole body is tearing down from the inside. Luke follows suit, cumming inside me as he growls through gritted teeth. I look at his face, tensed and red from the orgasm. We both pant for breath, smiling at each other. "Hi." He says softly, kissing my lips softly as well. "Hi." I giggle. "I've missed you." He says, letting me back on my feet but still holding me as my legs are jelly. "I know. I've missed you too." I state, stroking his cheek.

I get out of the shower, making sure I have cleaned Luke's scent of me. I walk into his bedroom where my dress is, humming a tune. Luke stares at me, smiling tiredly. "You are gorgeous." He comments. I smile, letting my towel loose as I pick up the little black dress. "It's the afterglow of a great fuck." I reply, making him chuckle.

"Can you stay the night?" He asks out of the blue. "Luke, you know that he is going to be back tonight. He will want to see me." I reason. Luke groans jumping up. "Screw him." He shouts. "I am not sure you would want that." I state, slipping in my dress. "I am serious, (Y/N). I am tired of this." "You knew since day 1 about it, Luke." I groan. "Yes, but I am fucking in love with you and I am tired of you leaving and going back to him. I am tired of sitting in a room that still has your scent in it while picturing him undressing you. I am tired of all of this, (Y/N)." He states, looking as serious as ever. "Luke..." I begin but he stops me. "No, (Y/N). Don't try to sugar coat it. You know how I feel about you, the choice is yours. But remember that if you leave now, I won't be here when you are back. "What are you saying, Luke?" "It's either him or me. Pick." He says, making the room fall into complete silence after that.

My Masterlist / Ghost of you / If walls could talk / Better Man

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