era:oneshot

‘BabyGirl’ - Serpent!Jughead x Reader

For an anon request ☺️ I twisted this request around quite a bit Im sorry. This is a little less angsty (with mentions of an argument) and a little tiny hint of smut and los of teasing. I do hope that this is all okay for you. 

WARNINGS: Hint of smuttiness and teasing - swearing (Slight mention of a daddy kink)   MASTERLIST

Originally posted by jughead-thethird

You waltzed into the bar that night. You and Jughead had, had an argument that morning about how you were his and his alone. How you would never show that you were his and it frustrated him. This all came from one incident last week when some young serpent at school decided to press you up against your locker in the way Jughead did and try and have his way with your lips. What Jughead hadn’t seen as he had pulled the twit away by his neck was that you were very ready to knee him heavily in the groin. You wore his jacket around your shoulders tonight and a constant smirk. You were used to arguing with him. You knew how this would play out.

It wasn’t long after you had downed one shot that you felt his hands on your waist, tight and demanding. Just how you liked it.

Jughead had changed since becoming a serpent. He was more confident and more at home and my god did you love it. Betty gaddamn cooper had left after she found out but you were always there and that’s what put you here, in this bar again but with his jacket  - not your own, and his lips inching evidently towards your ear,

“And what do you think you are doing wearing this?” His grip tightened on your waist before trailing down your hips to thumb and the very very short skirt. His body was pressed up against yours keeping you facing the bar,

“I’m being adventurous” you purred. You knew exactly what to do with him, “I thought you would want people to know I’m yours.” You turned your head to look at him still not able to turn around fully and pretending he wasn’t on about your skirt.

“Don’t play with me, baby girl. And there are more ways of showing you’re mine.” He almost growled the last word as his darkened eyes locked with yours before his lips planted themselves firmly on your neck, sucking and biting quickly and leaving a deep purple mark.

“Juggle! We’re in public”

“And you still decide that something so short is appropriate. Therefore I think this is appropriate.” His lips connected to your neck again and you sighed in content that you had gotten what you wanted - his full attention.

“Juggie, babe, come play pool with me?” You asked doe eyed as he looked down at you,

“Not tonight. Not while you are wearing that. Flaunting your ass to the whole bar? Not on baby girl. That ass is mine” he squeezed your behind firmly then placed a light smack on it.

“Oh I just remembered” you said sarcastically as you finally managed to turn in his arms, “I can do what I want” you smirked and pushed away from him, joining some of the guys in a game of pool.

You liked teasing Jughead for one reason - he would finally release his full dark side, he was dominant and possessive and you loved it on nights like this. You made a point of laughing a little louder and sweeter, and you certainly made a point of bending over the table a little in his direction, either squeezing your chest or allowing your skirt to ride up even more. The guys knew you were Juggies. Damn, every one knew you belonged to Jughead and with him being the leaders son, they didn’t touch you. They knew better than that. The third time you bent over you felt someone’s hips press up against you, their hands on your waist again and a hint of excitement in their pants. With his firm grip and large hands, Jughead managed to pull you up so you were standing flush against him once again and with a single nod, the guys you were playing pool with had left, heading for the bar.

“You need to cut this out, Darlin’. Now.”

“And why the hell should I. We’re having a lovely game here aren’t we boys” you shouted to them and smirked at how they were a little to scared to answer. Jughead had managed to establish quite the reputation for dealing with people who tried to deal with his woman.

“Now you are playing dangerously.”

“And when have you ever known me to be tame?” You teased back wiggling yourself against him. With a firm tug and a grip that would surely leave a mark - that you were sure he would add to later, he pulled you tighter against him and moved to wrap his arm around your waist pulling you away from the table and towards the back door.

As soon as he got you out into the abandoned alleyway you were up against the wall, “how dare you be like that in there” he demanded, “blatantly flaunting yourself like that like you were everyone’s to fuck and see! That’s not how this works (y/n).” You refused to give in and simply leaned closer.

“Yeah? And what are you going to do, Jughead?”

His lips found yours ferociously, his tongue winning immediate dominance, before he detached your lips and moved downwards. Down your neck and pulling his jacket away from your shoulders so he could reach your very exposed chest. The cold air had chilled you but you felt two warm hands slipping up your skirt almost ripping it with how tight it already was,

“Don’t wear shit like this unless you want shit like this to happen, baby girl” you sighed and smirked but he had caught you. “you did this on purpose, didn’t you. You wanted people to see you, you wanted me to do all the hard work with you didn’t you”

You hummed against his lips as you pulled him closer, “yes daddy.”

“Fucking hell, baby girl” he retracted his hands from your skirt quickly and grabbed your wrist harshly as you continued to smirk. His dads trailer wasn’t too far away so, ignoring the fact you were wearing heels, he pulled you to it. Throwing open the door and pushing you in before him he closed and locked the door. Immediately his face was close to yours again,

“You wanted me to get like that hmm? Lose control with you? Expose you fully, didn’t you?” His voice was so low it was almost a growl, here he was. The darkness. You nodded refusing to speak and break the smile on your face, “fine then” he pushed you into the bedroom and you went to lay on the bed but he tutted, “na ah, not yet baby girl.” Kicking off his shoes and socks he laid out on the bed, his hands behind his head as he watched you, eyeing you up with care. “You wanted to be exposed so badly, then strip for me, baby girl.”

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archiveofourown.org
tacos christmas and babies oh my!
By Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: One Direction (Band)
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Characters: Harry Styles, Louis Tomlinson, Niall Horan, Zayn Malik, Liam Payne, Gemma Styles, Anne Cox, Jay Tomlinson, Lottie Tomlinson, Fizzy, The Twins, Michelle Ganatra, Nick Grimshaw
Additional Tags: Pregnancy, Nipple Play, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Sex, Pregnant Louis, Daddy Kink, Funny, Fluff, Angst, not rlly but if u squint its there, i swear this wasnt sponsored by mcdonalds or taco bell, Christmas, i think this is it but comment if i missed anything!
Series: Part 2 of im pregnant harry dammit
Summary:

“Um, I threw up. And I want tacos. And McDonalds fries. And ice cream. Please?” Louis begged, tugging at Harry’s shoulder.

“You threw up?” He grumbled back, not moving from his spot. Yeah he was concerned but he was also tired as hell.

“You’re missing the point, I need the keys.”

basically this is what i think would happen if this was an A/B/O world and Harry Styles got his omega bf Louis Tomlinson pregnant

Always

AN: Soooo this is something I wrote months ago, during hiatus. Or rather, I started. I didn’t even realize I’d finished it until the other day, lol. When the show came back, I was too nervous on whether Yvonne would live or die and it sucked all the motive I had to write and then… well, we know what happened… Anyways, this is set anywhere between 7x07 and 7x10.

Thank you again to all my loyal readers. You guys mean the absolute world to me. Thank you for understanding when I take 1029492 years and for never holding it against me. I love you all.


He was dead. That was what the loud, invasive, penetrating voice in her head screamed out, over and over again. Until her ears felt like they were bloody and on fire and pulsing so paralyzingly harsh. Until she was sure she would never heard another renaissance for as long as she lived. Until she could no longer feel a single atom of her body, could no longer feel the forest floor underneath her, could no longer feel the chilly night’s air freezing her sickeningly pale skin.

The one person in this world, who had taught her how to love, who had taught her she deserved love, that had taught her what love looked like, was lying on the ground before her, still as a portrait, and lifeless as a corpse. 

That’s all that was left of him now. A corpse. An empty shell of the blue-eyed boy who had been her safe haven, from the violent storms that ripped her life apart at the seams. 

Except he didn’t love her. He wasn’t the person she thought he was, and at the thought, she heard a loud sob expel itself from deep within her core, but she didn’t give it permission, she didn’t anticipate it, and more than anything, she didn’t feel it. 

She doubted she’d ever be able to feel anything again. She doubted there was a way to pull all the pieces of her fractured heart and mind sufficiently back together. 

Toby, was all she could think. The name, the image, the feeling of him. The way it felt when he wrapped his arms around her, when he kissed her softly, when he laughed at whatever sarcastic, witty remark she had presented him with. 

This was it. This was all she ever was. The love he’d shown her, the purity of his soul, the hope he’d unknowingly gave her, somehow had merged into the very lining of her soul and, now, without him, she felt herself fading as well.

Toby, was all she thought. The boy who she had loved recklessly and wholeheartedly and without reservations and the way you could only ever love your first love. 

How was it possible that person had never really existed?

Or had he? Had he been faking his status as one on the dark side? Had he donned that black hoodie in loyalty to her? Had he loved her as much as he swore? Had she been right in believing in him, believing there was nothing in this world that could prove he had forged his feelings for her, believing that it was impossible to wake up one day and stop loving someone? 

Had she gotten him killed?

Toby, was all she could ever bear to process. The name, the smile, the protective words and the bright, water blue eyes. 

She could feel her own self slipping away, and instinctually, she clung to the memory of him, the memory of his golden brown hair, his solid chest, his black as night tattoo, his warmth, his smell of sawdust and cinnamon, his altruistic heart that had always pulled her back when she felt lost without an atlas.

She could feel his shirts on her back, his lips on her neck, his eyes boring deep into the pits of her soul. She could feel him brushing her hair back when she was upset, him rubbing her shoulder when she was tense, him tugging her into his arms when she scared. She could no longer feel her own body, but she could feel every essence of his being effortlessly.

Toby, was all she could focus on. His light, his strength, his accomplishments, his forgiveness, his intuition. 

She could remember his name long after she’d forgotten her own.

And then she woke up.

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Finn| Into Your Arms |Bálor

Title; Into Your Arms

Pairing; Finn Bálor/Reader

Word Count; 5523

Summary; If it’s just a game, then I like the way that we play.

Warnings;  NSFW. Body painting leading to smut. Smut for smut’s sake. Here be no plot. Latex free.

A/N; Found this little gem saved in my documents from months ago because I forgot about it. Heathens!Tyler is a work in progress. Thinking next week.  You know what to do fam. Leave me some noise and kisses.

Tag Train:

@alexablss  @laochbaineann  @bettergetusetoit
@fuckyeahbulletclub  @covergirlcollarbones  @thedeboniardevistation @amaranthine-reign  @leelakoiwolff @crookedmoonsaultpunk
@princess3733 @britishscoundrel  geekoftv
@bbmbabe  @alexahood21  @mrsuniverse
@sorleino   @sweet-and-stormy   heelturn-timesten
@imaginingwwesuperstars  @wrasslin-x @iloveenzoamore@crossfitjesusinskinnyjeans@tomsbookitten  @sarahmatthews7  amantedelcalcio
@littledeadrottinghood   @wwelife0014
@alexispoo  @sjwriteswrestling-1   mox-midget
@wwesmutdonedirtcheap @50shadesofadamcolebaybay
@screamersdontdance  @wwe-smutfics
@alexahood21  @tmsixone   @daintymissdevitt
@mistressbalor @nickysmum1909  
@wwewritings   @mgswdw  @finnbaelorxx
@shadow-of-wonder @valeonmars
@neeadinghugs @squirrel666 @jenn0755  @actualamyautopsy @roserae527 @ladylillianrose  @panicattheambrose
@thebutterflygirl16   @catie-kaboom   @aye-its-shaianne  @breezy14fan @lindseyrae20   hiitsmecharlie
@blondekel77  @skrillexslays13  @lisa-likes-wrasslin  @danikajessyfandoms  @charismatickilljoy
@sunflowers-and-swear-words  @atravelerinspirit
@beckyylynchs  @baeckyshorsewomen  @darkgalaxy14 @hushothermuses @superrezzy00  @blood-fells  @nerdy-cinnaqueen
@eleonora-dsb  @somewhere-in-ambrose-asylum
@little–alphabet–boy @chloebowiee   @shieldgirl95

Originally posted by thearchitectwwe

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Love & War. {Feysand}

Originally posted by sensuous

Sorry this took so long for me to post, friends. I had a busy (stressful) week and it caused some writer’s block. Thank you all for voting in my poll, though! Here is the prompt that got the most votes. I love hearing from my readers, and finding new prompts in my askbox. It makes me feel amazing as a writer! 

Warning: This oneshot is equally smutty and adorable.


Where are you?

I shot the question through the bond as I watched Elain. She was sitting across from Azriel as he told her yet another story about Truth-teller. After what had happened with the King of Hybern, Elain had wanted to hear all about the sword, where it had gone with Azriel through the years, and the history it had witnessed. Her small frame was turned towards him, shoulders curved inward as her chin rested in the palm of her hand, her elbow gently placed on her crossed knees. With wide eyes, she clung onto his every word.

The study.

My eyes shifted to where Nesta sat next to Amren in the long chairs outside the sparring ring. My sister was watching the Illyrian intensely, her lips pursed, but her gray-blue eyes longing. Mor and Cassian danced around one another, jokingly, in their fighting leathers. Mor had knocked him on his ass three times in the last hour. He had blamed it on his injuries, claimed he was still healing.

Mor had claimed she was going easy on him for the same reason.

Your missing out on Cassian getting beat up by Mor, I heard him laugh through the bond as I continued, it’s pretty amusing. And also a little bit sad.

He deserves it, he replied, amusingly. I miss you.

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Little Fireheart. (Rowaelin Oneshot)

Creak.

Rowan’s eyes shot open.

He glanced at his wife, her breathing steady and quiet, her body outlined by the light of the moon. Rowan had been away with Aedion for the last week, overseeing Terrasen’s new recruits, and he had spent hours making it up to Aelin earlier that evening. Considering how often she moaned his name, and the marks on his back from her nails, he figured he was forgiven.

With a smile, he pulled up the thin, white blanket to her bare shoulders, and kissed her forehead gently. “I love you, Fireheart.”

As he stood, he swore he heard her mumble Buzzard, but when he looked back, eyebrows raised, she was still sound asleep. He pulled on his pants with a chuckle and grabbed a blanket from the chair by the fireplace on his way out the door.

The creaking of the stairs had stopped, and the pitter-patter of small feet were now heavy on the main floor. Wrapping the blanket around his broad shoulders, Rowan silently took the stairs two at a time.

He found her by the window, watching the city-goers walk by their private residence under the streetlights. She had her chin perched on her knees and her arms wrapped around her legs as she sat on the window sill, her golden hair a mess and her pajamas rumpled. She was clinging to her white-fur blanket, the one she was given by Gavriel the day she was born.

He leaned against the door frame, watching her, admiringly. He thought back to the first time he held her in his arms, bundled in that same blanket, when terror and love and utter joy flooded him. He remembered looking into the eyes of his firstborn, his daughter, and knowing he was in trouble. She had put him through hell since the day she’d been born, and she was only four. There was a lot more hell to go.

And he loved every minute of it.

“Didn’t your mother tell you to stay in bed?”

The small figure jumped at her father’s voice, her cheeks turning pink as she turned to face him. “Maybe….”

The silver-haired fae crossed his arms as he tried not to smile, and failed. “Ana.”

When her lip began to wobble, he ran to her side and pulled her into his arms. Once her small arms had wrapped around his neck, and her head was lying on his shoulder, he sighed.

“Are you mad, daddy?” she asked.

Rowan sat down on the cushioned couch that sat in front of the fireplace and wrapped his blanket around his daughter. “No, why would I be mad?”

“Mommy gets mad when I get out of bed,” she said, matter-of-factly.

He laughed. “Mommy doesn’t get mad. She just wants you to get a good night’s rest, that’s all. So you can grow big and strong.”

“Does mommy get mad at you when you get out of bed?”

He pulled back and looked into those curious, pine-green eyes. It was the only trait she’d gotten from him. “Yes. So, don’t tell her I was out of my bed, and I won’t tell her you were out of yours. Deal?”

She held up her pinkie in answer, and Rowan wrapped his around hers.

“Deal,” she giggled, and fell into his chest.

“Why can’t you sleep?” he asked her, after a minute. “It is late.”

“I thought you were on my side,” her high-pitched voice was highly offended.

He held up his hands in defense.

The little girl sighed. “Uncle Aedion told me a scary story. Aunt Lysy got mad at him, but he thought it was funny.”

Aedion and Lysandra had taken Aliana to the square earlier that afternoon for lunch, and to find a dress for Friday’s gathering. Apparently, Aedion liked to add his own fun to the agenda.

“Scary story?” he brushed her hair back behind her ear. “About what?”

“About snow leopards.”

“Snow leopards?”

“Yeah, about how they eat little girls with-with blonde hair.”

Rowan made a mental note to kick Aedion’s ass tomorrow when they met for their early morning workout. “Uncle Aedion was just joking, Ana.”

She frowned. “Well, he’s not very funny.”

The corner of Rowan’s lips tugged upward as the little girl in his lap yawned.

“Go to sleep, Ana,” he kissed the top of her head. “I love you.”

“Will you stay?” she asked, pine-green eyes growing wide.

“Of course,” he promised, pulling her tighter against his chest.

Another yawn escaped. “Love you, too, daddy.”

They sat there, just the two of them, in silence as he patted her back, giving her the comfort that only he could.

“Daddy?”

“Hmm?” he asked, realizing he was dozing off.

“Can I be a bird like you?”

It took him a moment to realize she was talking about shape-shifting, and the thought made him laugh, breathily. “You can be anything you want to be, my Little Fireheart.”

But, when he didn’t get a reply, and he looked down at the four-year-old cradled in his arms, her eyes were closed, and her breathing was steady.

A small flame rose, and grew, from within the fireplace.

Rowan glanced toward the door frame and gave its occupant a soft grin. He whispered, “I thought I wore you out.”

She rolled her eyes, but there was humor there, and love. “I came to see why I was the only one in bed.”

He held out his free arm, and before he could take another breath, she was there, lying her head against his shoulder and taking her daughter’s feet into her lap.

“She’s getting so big,” she sighed. “I don’t understand why she thinks I’d be mad to find her downstairs. Remind me to kick Aedion’s ass, by the way.”

Rowan chuckled. “I’d be scared of you, too, Majesty.” Aelin stuck her tongue out at her husband. With a smirk, he continued, “How long were you standing there?”

“Long enough to come to the conclusion that you two must keep a lot of secrets from me,” she narrowed her eyes as if to say liars.

He shrugged. “A pinkie swear cannot be broken.”

She nudged him in the ribs, then continued to rub his chest with her finger in lazy circles to the sound of his quiet laughter.

“She’s perfect,” Aelin whispered, as Rowan’s eyes closed. “I still think that, every day, just how perfect she is. She reminds me of you.”

“She’s just like her mother,” Rowan whispered, back. “Yes, she is perfect. And beautiful. And kind. And smart.”

As he opened his eyes, he caught the tear that had fallen down his wife’s cheek.

“There was a time when I didn’t think I would ever have this life,” she whispered. “There was a time when I dreamt of this life, with you. Sometimes, it feels like a dream after all that we’ve endured.”

“I often have to remind myself that it’s not,” he kissed her head as the flames in the fireplace grew. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“To whatever end.”

“Always,” she smiled. “To whatever end.”

Aelin fell asleep a minute later, and Rowan sat there, holding them both tightly, lovingly, admiringly, until the flames turned to embers, the logs turned to ashes, and sleep consumed him.

Nightmare: Loki

pairing: Loki x reader

summary: you have a nightmare, and when you go to make yourself a cup of tea Loki surprises you in the kitchen. he offers some help

warnings: none

Sweat beads dripped down your face and your neck as you shot your head up and let out a strained scream. Your latest nightmare was more vivid than the regular ones you were used to. With your breath coming out in short pants, you attempted to calm yourself down before you woke anyone up. Laying down was not going to help ease your mind into the state of calmness it once was resting at, so you quietly got out of bed to make a cup of tea. It seemed like a routine at this point; waking up at 2 in the morning, and having to calm yourself down into a false sense of security.

You didn’t even notice Loki, the God of Mischief, quietly reading a book on the couch under lamplight as you shuffled through the main room and into the kitchen. With your hands still shaking from panic, you opened the cabinet and grabbed the familiar pink mug. After setting it onto the marble counter, you began the works for the cup of tea. Putting a pot of water on the stovetop to boil, you leaned on the counter, and continued to take in short, choppy breaths.

“Are you alright, Lady Y/n?” A silky voice quietly asked, startling you. You turned to see Loki grinning at you over the pages of his book, and you smiled at his civilian appearance. He had a cat sweater on that Thor must’ve given him, and sweatpants.

“Mhm, just couldn’t sleep.” You shrugged your shoulders, technically it wasn’t a lie. No one needed to know about the demons that plagued your sleep. You also wouldn’t be able to get more than four words out with his intense gaze locked on you. Something about Loki caught your eye in a special way, but you weren’t quite sure what.

Loki squinted, “Why are you lying to me about your well-being?” he pressed.

You snapped back, “I am not.” The water was boiling on the stove, so you took it as the perfect moment to break eye contact and get your tea together, and maybe even head back to your room. You poured the boiling water into the mug and hurried off past Loki and back down the hall. Before you were even in your room, he teleported in front of you and blocked the path to your room. Loki insisted once more that you were lying.

Instead of arguing with him any further, you tried to duck underneath his arm. He caught you, however, before you could even attempt and quickly swept one arm under your knees and the other cradling your back and picked you up. You couldn’t protest without waking up the rest of the Avengers, considering the two of you were smack dab in the middle of the hallway. It was a miracle you didn’t spill your cup of tea everywhere as he carefully held you against his chest and carried you to your room.

“Nightmares, I presume?” He whispered as he gently set you down back in your bed, took the cup of tea out of your hand and placed it on the bedside table. All you could do at the moment was nod tiredly and wonder in the back of your mind how he knew about your nightmares.

Loki, instead of returning to his book in the main room, moved to the other side of your bed and crawled in next to you, draping his arm around your waist. You were blushing like mad and tensed up a bit. He must have noticed, because he tightened his grip on you and buried his face in your hair. Loki snaked his other arm underneath of you, fully pulling you into a warm cuddle. You didn’t expect this type of treatment from someone as cynical as Loki, but fully welcomed it. His embrace finally started to sooth the fear from your nightmare. You felt safe wrapped up in his arms.