#refusing to even touch this thing until i watch it tomorrow

[ineffably-flynn]

so it's Thursday when we're getting season two here but because my dad has work on Friday my friends and i cant just pull an all nighter to watch it so im gonna be watching it on Friday ;-:

#purging the internet tonight #i am literally hiding my phone at 6 #refusing to even touch this thing until i watch it tomorrow #im so foslfkeldke #IT'S SO CLOSE #good omens #good omens s2

[praisethesuuun]

One Piece characters reacting to you grabbing their boobs!

Marco

🪽The poor guy wasn't expecting it at all. Marco was dozing with his eyes open, completely relaxed as he sat on the handrail of the Moby Dick; the light breeze ruffled his blond hair, while the sunlight made his skin and the tattoo on his chest shine. He was so relaxed and with his guard low that he didn't hear your footsteps slowly approaching behind him, as silent as a cat's footsteps hunting a bird.

🪽Marco jumped when your hands made their way around his hips, your fingers grazing his abs softly. "You scared me for a moment-yoi" he speaks, now with a calm tone instead of a worried one.

🪽The commander started to blush when your hands started to move up, more and more, until you grabbed his boobs, squeezing. Your head pressed against his back, your gentle touch on his body and sensitive parts...give him time to recover from the surprise, then you'll see some good ones. And pray that no one saw or you will never hear the end of it.

Shanks

❤️Oh Lord, good luck with that! We all know how playful Shanks is, a shameless free spirit, always ready to do whatever he wants and prefers, especially when it comes to you. And if his little darling wants to play, then he won't shy away from the fun.

❤️Probably, you decided to tease Shanks during one of his serial drinks at the bar. He was simply beautiful in the noisy atmosphere of the club, singing and joking, while a few drops of beer soaked what little beard he had on his face. His breath caught in his throat when he saw you licking your soft lips, your fingers cold under your shirt, feeling the hot skin.

❤️"Right now?" the red head whispered to you with his signature smirk, starting to do the same to you, making your body shiver. His fingers were more calloused than yours, but they weren't unpleasant. And, at the exact moment you squeezed the captain's chest tightly, he did the exact same thing to your boobs, moving the bra and feeling you whole.

Garp

👊Honestly, he'd been expecting this for a while. He didn't expect a cadet with so much interest in him and also quite a cute one. Garp lacked female attention, which was increasingly rare as he got older, so he'll start taking you under his wing. Expect to see him flexing his muscles more than he should when you're around there, he probably doesn't notice either, but don't let the marine notice, you don't want to ruin the fun, right?

👊"Come and watch my training tomorrow, so you will learn something". Yes of course, of course, old fox. One blow then another, a few drops of sweat venturing along his abs, hard as steel despite his age; Garp scratched his beard in a lazy way while waiting for you to get another dummy. Your eyes seemed full of stars, your curious irises moved over his body, analyzing every scar, even the smallest.

👊Your hand moved without you even realizing it, squeezing his boobs and pressing on his nipple too. Garp's face was flawless, his mouth open and his eyes wide, but he refused to shy away from the contact. Suddenly, the Vice Admiral was hotter than expected and began to sweat more: no one had ever touched him like that and he wasn't sure how to behave. "Let's not talk about it with anyone, okay? In fact...let's just pretend nothing happened!"

Dragon

🌧The image in your head already makes you laugh. Mokey D. Dragon, the most wanted man in the world, leader of the revolutionary army, feels his legs shaking when you are around him. Your personality always finds a way to make his heart do somersaults, I question the tormented soul of man.

🌧One of your favorite things to do is to hide under his cloak, hugging him gently and covering you from the ever-present wind and rain. Dragon loves to feel your closeness, so he doesn't mind that much and it lets you do what you want. But keep your eyes open, Dragon. Something is about to hit...

🌧During one of his many moments of reflection, the presence behind him decided to act. At first, the revolutionary didn't think much of it, thinking it was just another one of your simple hugs, and then...GRAB. Dragon jumped, squirming slightly. "What the hell was that for, woman?! Let go!" but you didn't. After that episode there were others, eventually he got used to it.

Killer

💙You were both lying in your bed. Killer had his arms wrapped around your body, smaller than his. The man loved having you all to himself, allowing himself to remove his helmet and let some weakness be overlooked; your breathing calmed him and he clung to you as if he was scared to let you go.

💙Killer's chest was soft, big, welcoming...impossible to ignore. His hard training had paid off and they were all for you to taste and feel; obviously, your head was right between her boobs, while an expression of pure bliss. You began to feel your new pillow, leaving a few kisses here and there, waking your lover up. "Y/N...what are you doing..." the blonde mumbled, the voice deep and thick with sleep.

💙Even though Killer looked like a tough brute, the Massacre Soldier was a sweetheart in love. Given his lack of experience in this field, frustrating him was really easy. "W-Wait..." your lover sighed softly, blushing and adjusting himself a bit. His arms tightened around you as his nose nuzzled into your hair, smelling your scent and letting you do it..

Kid

💢You're in for a browl if you even think about doing that. Kid doesn't like to be touched too much in general and still needs to get used to the gentle and loving touch of the person next to him. It will be hard to deal with him the first few times, but he will still try to be a little nicer to you.

💢Just try not to do it in public, if you really want to do it, in private; and pay attention to the nipple, don't pull it too much and don't make strange movements. He has piercings there, and while they bring pleasure, they can also hurt a lot. If you try to do something like this in public, his anger will explode and he will scream at you: he has a reputation to protect, you can't just do as you please.

💢The first time you squeeze his pecs, Kid has to stop himself from blushing more than he should. "Don't do anything strange, woman" he will repeat, while your hands danced on his boobs, playing with the piercings and trying to be as gentle as possible.

Benn Beckman

🚬Serious, stoic and weak to women. Benn never refuses your hands on his body, he really doesn't mind that, at all. He always relaxes when you pet him, tracing his muscles and loving it, he keeps fit for you too after all; and if there's one thing that's true, it's that the vice captain is proud of his body.

🚬If Benn lets you do it, it means he is truly in love with you. So, since taking him by surprise is impossible, first he will let you hold his chest as you like, then he will take revenge by doing it to you. "What's the problem, dear? You like my chest? I like yours too..." he will whisper in your ear, grabbing you just like you did with him earlier.

🚬If first your fingers stopped in the middle of his nipple, squeezing or teasing it slightly, Beckman will give you the exact same treatment, holding you in his arms and whispering sweet nothings to you. What a gentleman he is!

Crocodile

🐊Expect to be judged, very judged. Crocodile is a classy man, he doesn't get lost in too many romances or anything like that, and above all he hates being touched suddenly. He much prefers a slow, sensual touch rather than a sudden squeeze.

🐊"What the hell are you doing?!" he will scolds you, turning around immediately and blocking your wrists in his much bigger hands; he squeezes so tightly, you can feel his rings on your skin. When the man sees your slightly scared big eyes at something like this, he will let you go, turning away.

🐊But he'll make it up to you, don't worry. He will take you out for dinner, buy you anything you want and, even if reluctantly, make you hold and feel his chest. You'll have the big Crocodile on his knees.

#one piece #one piece crocodile #one piece x reader #one piece x female reader #one piece x you #one piece x y/n #crocodile #monkey d garp #garp #red haired shanks #shanks #benn beckman #monkey d dragon #eustass kid #eustasscaptainkid #killer #marco #marco the phoenix

[pinkthrone445]

-Let it burn to the ground-

Pairing:Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

Gender:love, hurt, confort, funny

Warnings:Mention about past trauma, fires, future smut(?)

Summary:Melissa lets the fire of love consume her when she meets the new chief of the fire station.

Melissa Schemmenti, a woman who has had many things in life, including different experiences in love, had her first love in college, was married, was cheated on, divorced, was in a relationship again, broke up since they didn't have the same goals, and now she was having an affair with the fire captain... It was casual, with no feelings, just sex. She just wanted him for that, she even wanted to avoid talking about personal things and get him out of her house as soon as possible, but when he started staying overnight and eating breakfast with her and Jacob, the fire captain started to get the wrong idea.

Melissa didn't want a relationship with him, it was just casual, but he wanted to share more and more things about his life even though she didn't want to hear it.

One night, while they were together, the redhead wanted to undress him as quickly as possible before he started talking, she had even thought about buying a gag for him. But while she tried to undo his pants, he kept letting out sighs, so she stopped to ask what was wrong, even if she didn't really cared, she wanted the sings to stop, because she knew they wouldn't have sex if he didn't talked about what was bothering him first.

-"Okay, talk, what is going on with you? Why are you complaining so much?" - The redhead asked, crossing her arms and sitting on the bed looking at him

-"I'm tired of my work" - he confessed and the redhead rolled her eyes getting up of bed again

-"Okey, now that you got that out of your chest, can we have sex?"-The woman asked, raising an eyebrow, and he looked at her with a frown

-"I didn't even started talking about it, aren't you going to ask why I'm tired of my job when I used to love it?" - he asked a little offended by her lack of interest

-"Yeah yeah, go ahead, tell me please, I'm dying to know, why you are mad at your job" - The redhead said sarcastically, putting on her dressing gown and sitting up on the bed again

-"I got a new fire chief for the district, an asshole chief that is babysitting my station because the district got a few complains about us... I don't like it when there's someone watching my every step and checking what I'm doing wrong... On top of that the chief has a shitty humor, I think they need someone to have sex with, although I don't think anyone wants to touch them even with a 3-meter pole..."-Melissa listened to him complain for a long time, her desire to have sex had disappeared and now she was bored and upset, she didn't want a relationship, it was something casual, and what was happening was not casual at all-"They thinks that because has a badge of honor and a higher title they can command us however they wants, a couple of scars don't make others respect you, it's so annoying, that's why no one has touched them for years probably"-This time he rolled his eyes and Mel sighed looking at him

-"Do you feel better now that you've got that off your chest?" - The redhead asked and he nodded-"Good, you can go home now" - She said curtly and he looked at her confused

-"What? Why?" - he asked

-"Tomorrow I have to be at school early..."-Mel replied

-"Since when is that a problem? I can stay overnight..."-He offered, but she refused, getting out of bed, lifting the clothes that were on the floor and giving them to him

-"It's a problem since we said this would be a casual thing and you're making yourself very comfortable in my house, staying in my bed to sleep, leaving your toothbrush, eating Jacob's cereal, wanting to have deep talks... That wasn't our deal, I need you to go"-Melissa practically pushed him out of the room, insisting until she managed to get him to leave.

For a few days they didn't even talk by text, until one afternoon after school he was outside the doors waiting. The redhead approached confused and annoyed

-"What are you doing here? I don't want to see you yet..." - She whispered in an annoyed tone and he rolled his eyes

-"Get off your horse, princess. I'm not here for you, my stupid boss send me to get their son..."-He replied in an annoyed tone pointing at one kid that was waiting by the door with Barbara. Mel narrowed her eyes looking at the little guy, he was definitely a new kid at school since she hadn't seen him before.

When Barbra gave the signal that they could get out, the little boy ran to the fireman and stood next to him looking at him

-"Hi. My mom told me that you would come for me because she had to stay at the station cleaning..."-Commented the little boy. Actually, his mother had meant that she had to stay at the station cleaning the mess that Captain Robinson had made, but she couldn't tell that to the kid.

Mel frowned listening to the little guy

-"You didn't told me your new boss was a woman" - she whispered to the firefighter

-"Yeah, 'Cause if I'd told you she was a woman when I was complaining, you would've thought I didn't like her just because she was a woman and no because she is an actually asshole that has me running errands instead of giving me actual job" - He muttered, looking at the redhead annoyed. The little boy frowned

-"You're going to have to put money in the jar... You said something bad" - The boy said, adjusting his backpack annoyed.

-"What jar?" - Mel asked and the boy turned his attention to her

-"His mother put a jar in the station for us to put money in when we are aggressive or bad-mouthing co-workers, she said it would help make us a team..."-The firefighter commented annoyed and the redhead laughed at him

-"If it doesn't work like she wanted, at least she'll make extra quick money with you and your big mouth" - Melissa commented, laughing and patting the man's back, which rolled his eyes

-"Come on boy, your mother is waiting for you and I don't want her to take points away from me for being late again" - He muttered through his breath in annoyance and the little guy started following him

-"Goodbye Miss Schemmenti" - The little boy waved his hand before leaving

-"Goodbye little one, say hi to your mother, tell her that I like her very much even though I don't know her" - The redhead shouted before going back to the entrance of the school.

A couple of weeks passed and it was the day when Barbara's class would present who were the heroes for each children. Since Mel's class was in gym and she was free, she decided to stop by her work wife's class to listen to the kids.

Several children introduced their "heroes," some talked about their favorite heroe from a movie o cartoon, others about a soccer player, others about their pets, and some about their parents, who some of them were present.

Last of all, Barbara called the boy Melissa had met a few weeks ago

-"Cris... Come here please, it's your turn" - Barbara called the little boy to the front, who stood up carrying a fireman's helmet that was almost as big as his body, The little boy put his helmet on Barbara's desk playing with his little hands

-"My mom was supposed to come..."-He whispered in a shy tone

-"Hi, excuse me" - Mel felt a sexy but soft voice behind her and as she turned she saw a woman with a beautiful smile, wearing a blue T-shirt and firefighter pants with red suspenders. You passed by her side but the redhead stood in the place staring at you dumbfounded, lost enough to really listen to what you had asked her. Immediately Melissa thought you were the most beautiful and perfect woman she had ever seen, she had to admit that she had a weakness for women in uniform, but you were something else. Dumbfounded, she watched as you approached the little boy and knelt beside him hugging him

-"I'm here my baby" - You whispered and the boy hugged you with a lot of emotion

-"You came!"-The little guy hung on to you like a little koala and you stand up with him in your arms

-"I promise I would... And I never break a promise..."-You whispered and kissed his forehead making him smile-"Now I think you've got a presentation to give little gentleman" - You whispered and he nodded letting you lower him to the ground to present, you knelt next to him again to be at his level. Your son started talking excitedly mentioning the reasons why you were his hero, among them he mentioned your job as a firefighter chief and supervisor, your job as mom and you knowledge about medicine. Then he showed his classmates the helmet and they made you do push-ups with some kids on your back to show your strength.

Your son was very excited, being in a new school and feeling included was something that made him happy, and thanks to you being there it was possible. And even though you were tired of exercising, you were more than happy and was worth the effort to see him happy.

The kids took turns climbing on you excitedly, while others tried on your helmet and some parents took pictures. While you were only focusing your eyes on your son, the redhead was focusing on you, almost literally salivating for you. The way you smiled made it seem like you weren't making an effort, even though the sweat that collected on your forehead gave you away. Melissa had her eyes fixed on the way your arm muscles twitched and your bright smile shined. Her mouth had literally filled with saliva about to drool for you, but may the earth swallow her if she let others see her like that for you or anyone.

The redhead swallowed and cleared her throat when the kids decided they had enough and let you get up. Barbara congratulated your son on his presentation and let the class leave.

Your little one ran to get his backpack and came back to you jumping up and down, you picked him up smiling and placed your helmet on his head, walking to the exit, which was blocked by the same redhead from before

-"Excuse me..."-You whispered sweetly, but she didn't move, just like when you arrived

-"Miss Schementti!!" - Your son screamed, snapping the redhead out of her trance

-"Oh! I'm so sorry..."-she whispered, looking at you

-"It's okay, I'm sorry for my son, he is very exited that I came to school, that's hard for him to contain his emotion..."-You whispered and your son laughed mischievously but very cute

-"I get it... I would get very exited too if I see you come... I mean if I see you visit me at school" - The redhead blushed as she heard her own words-"I'm sorry, firefighters get me exited too..."-she whispered and you laughed tenderly at how cute she looked blushing

-"That's sweet..."-You whispered looking at her

-"I'm Melissa by the way... I teach third grade... I hope to have your children one day" - The redhead blushed again at how bad that sounded and you couldn't help but laugh again

-"You sure do... I'm (Y/N), it's a pleasure..."-You replied by reaching out your hand to shake hers, when you did the redhead was surprised with how soft your hands were despite the strength you had-"I have to go home to bath this little prince, but I hope to see you again sometime Miss Schementti" - You whispered close to her ear making her shiver before you went down the hall with your son in your arms, while Mel followed you down the hall, she realized that her favorite sound in the world was hearing her name coming out of your mouth.

The days began to pass and you couldn't stop spinning in the redhead's head, either on the nights she was at home she thought about how your muscles tensed under your t-shirt, or in broad daylight she remembered your sweet voice and beautiful smile. She needed to see you again and her head couldn't stop thinking of a plan to get it done.

As fate would have it, the perfect opportunity presented itself when Janine mentioned that they would do a fire drill in conjunction with the firefighters since the last time there was an accident, they were not well organized. Melissa was sure that you would be in that drill since your son was going to that school.

On the day of the drill Mel decided to spend more time than usual on her appearance, she spent more time putting together her curls and styling her hair, applied more makeup and perfume than usual, chose her best outfit and put on her best bra, the one that most settled her breasts and made them look well lifted. As she left the house, Jacob couldn't help but notice the change and comment on it

-"Wow, you look amazing... What is going on? Does it have anything to do with the fire captain that used to come home?" - He asked curiously, but Melissa laughed in denial

-"I don't know what you're talking about, I'm not interested in him anymore..."-she responded by starting the car

-"Then it's for someone else..." - The young man was quickly able to draw the correct deduction since he had spent a lot of time with the redhead lately and had gotten to know her well-"I'm sure is a firefighter, you've always liked people in uniform and it's no coincidence that today you dressed up better on the day of the drill... Am I going on the right path?"-He inquired but she didn't say anything, concentrating on driving-"Come on you know I'm an excellent wingman, if you tell me I can help you..."-He commented in a knowing tone, the redhead just gave him a quick glance trying not to show her true interest. The truth is that she could do it alone, but she could use help to find out if you had a partner or if the father of your child was still around.

-"That's fine, but if you do anything to embarrass me, remember that you live in my house and that I could easily get you into a fatal" accident", you understand?"-she whispered in a threatening tone, and his housemate nodded excitedly, paying no attention to the threat

-"Tell me who it is and what can I do to help" - He smiled and clapped his hands with a grin from ear to ear

-"It's the fire chief and supervisor, the parent on Barbara's class... I need to know if they are single, that's all..."-She whispered a little embarrassedly with her eyes fixed on the road

-"But the fire chief is a wom... I knew you were bi! My gaydar is never wrong" - He whispered more to himself than to the redhead-"Consider it done" - It was the last thing they talked about in the car before they got to school.

Melissa spent most of her class hours training her students for the drill, the teachers weren't supposed to tell the students, but the redhead wanted to do everything right to see if you noticed her and praise her even a little.

When the redhead heard the sirens outside the school, her heart jumped with excitement and joy, she ran excitedly to the windows just to see you get out of the truck with all your uniform on, your gazes met momentarily when you were looking for the window of your son's classroom, the redhead smiled and you smiled back waving at her from a distance before entering the school.

Seconds later, Jacob appeared at the door of Melissa's classroom, breathing heavily from running, trying to keep his composure, he approached the redhead who was waiting for him excitedly

-"My" friend" from the fire station told me that she was married, but her husband passed away a couple of years ago and that no one has seen her with anyone or found out that she is in a relationship... My work here is done, I need to get back to my class before the drill starts"-He commented as fast as he could before running off again

-"Thank you!" - The redhead screamed excitedly and decided to put perfume back on and check her appearance on her mirror.

When everything was ready, the drill began and with it the control of the students and the entire building. Every time you passed by Melissa's side, her perfume blocked your senses and left your judgment clouded for a few seconds until you recomposed your posture, you loved perfumes like that. One of your weaknesses was when someone smelled good.

Surprisingly, the redhead's classroom was the most organized and several times you used it as an example of how to behave in a real fire. After all the control of the facilities and the drill was over, you greeted your son before he went back to school and decided to visit the redhead for her good preparation and behavior.

When you got to her classroom, she was sitting at her desk checking some assignments and wearing her glasses while her kids where focusing doing homework. Softly you knocked on the door getting her attention. Mel got up carefully and walked to the door smiling

-"Hi chief" - She whispered in a deducible tone and a tender smile-"Can I help with something?" - Asked

-"Hi miss Schementti... No, I just wanted to come and congratulate you personally on how well you and your class behaved in the drill..."-You whispered holding your helmet in your hands, taking a big but sneaky breath to feel her perfume, which the redhead noticed and couldn't help but smile

-"Thank you... I take the safety of my students very seriously... Thanks for noticing" - She whispered a little nervously about your presence and leaned into the doorframe looking at you

-"I'm glad to hear that... This is for you" - You handed her a pin that said "you're the only smoking hot thing I'll let it be out of control", laughing a little-"They where from the pride parade that we did last month, sorry. But I wanted to give you something for your good preparation... And this is for your students" - You handed her stickers of firefighters smiling a little embarrassed as she watched the pin smiling-"Since I've done everything I needed to do, I'll go drive the truck now... I hope to see you again sometime... Have a nice afternoon Schementti..."-You muttered making a couple of excessive gestures with your hands because of your nerves for the silly pin

-"Thanks for the pin and the visit... Do you want to see each other again outside of school soon? Maybe to grab a coffee or a bite to eat?..."-The redhead asked confidently, taking you by surprise

-"Oh yes... Sure, I'd like to go for something to eat...maybe tomorrow? It's my day off..."-You replied smiling and she nodded excitedly

-"I'll ask Janine for your number and I'll call you to work out the details... See you tomorrow chief" - Melissa commented, and when you went to the truck, she did a little dance of victory for getting a chance to go out with you.

#melissa schemmenti smut #melissa ann schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary #lisa ann walter #abbott elementary fanfic #abott elementary #abott elementary fanfic #lissa ann walter #lisa ann walter fanfic #pinkthrone445

[jaywonjuice]

hiii! i saw your requests were open! i was wondering if you could write a jake drabble/scenario where the reader and him get into an argument and instead of making him sleep on the couch, the reader voluntarily does so instead and the aftermath (apologies) afterwards? hopefully that makes sense ☺️ thank you so much in advance and i’m looking forward to it!!

~ 🩵

aaa my first ever request !! :3 tysm for this, i thought it was a rly sweet idea and i rly rly hope you like how the piece turned out !<3

timeless. ~ s.jy

pairing bf!jake x gn reader

genre angst, fluff, oneshot

warnings verbal fight, physical contact, kissing, mention of drowning

wc 1.27k

[00:00] you watched as the alarm clock on your nightstand ticked over midnight and beeped into the darkness. you hugged your knees to your chest, feeling as if you were glued to this spot, huddled up in the middle of the bed. a lump began to form in your throat.

he forgot.

you and jake had been dating for a year now, and to be truthful, it was the happiest you had been in a long time. through all the low points he’d been there, from staying up to cuddle with you on the sofa after the long hard days at your stressful job, to wiping away your tears with his gentle touch, refusing to leave your side until he saw you smile again. you honestly had to pinch yourself sometimes to check you weren’t dreaming, that he was really yours - your gorgeous, sweet, golden retriever boyfriend.

but he forgot. he’d forgotten your one-year anniversary. and you knew that it shouldn’t matter to you so much but it did. you’d waited hopefully all day for him to text or call, and when your phone finally buzzed you’d rushed to read the message excitedly.

jake🩶

should still make tn but schedule’s running late, prob won’t get there til like half 12 xxxxxxx

your heart had sunk. you’d really thought he might have something special planned in secret, a surprise date at a fancy restaurant maybe, so you hadn’t brought it up just in case. but now you felt like a fool, hopes crushed. he clearly wasn’t thinking about you. maybe he just didn’t love you anymore.

your spiralling thoughts were cut off abruptly by the sound of the apartment door opening and then latching shut softly. shortly afterwards a shadowy shape appeared standing in the doorway of the bedroom.

‘hey baby,’ said jake with a broad smile. entering the room he flicked the lights on, casually running his fingers through his hair and letting out a contented sigh, as if he hadn’t just crushed your heart. ‘i thought you might’ve been asleep. why are you just sitting here in the dark?’

his smile faltered as he took in your expression. you were staring at him dully with tired eyes. he thought you looked smaller than usual, sat hunched there, blanket wrapped around your shoulders in the middle of the bed. concern flickered across his features. ‘baby, has something happened?’

you scoffed, turning away from him. ‘“has something happened?” no, actually, as a matter of fact absolutely nothing happened all day.’

he regarded you, puzzled. ‘baby i don’t understand,’

‘today was our anniversary, jake,’ you answered him cooly. ‘we’ve been together for an entire year and you didn’t even remember.’

you watched as the realisation crept over his face.

‘oh gosh, yeah, it totally slipped my mind!’ he furrowed his brow, thinking. ‘let’s go to the movies tomorrow, hmm? a proper date, to celebrate,’ he offered with a smile.

‘no,’ you shot back without a moment’s pause. ‘it’s not the same. we can’t just do it tomorrow. it won’t be special, we’ve missed our chance.’

‘what do you mean it won’t be special?’ he scratched his head, clearly growing frustrated with the conversation. ‘we’d be doing the exact same thing just on a different day, it doesn’t make any difference.’

‘jake, this was important to me!’ you were shouting now, unable to remain calm with how easily he seemed to dismiss your feelings.

‘hey don’t yell at me!’ he put his hands up. ‘we can just go tomorrow can’t we?! seriously what is the issue here, all i want is to just be with you-’

‘well i don’t want to be with you!’ you spat.

his jaw worked. something about his gaze shifted, and his eyes hardened. you knew then that you’d hurt him.

‘just forget it,’ you huffed, pushing yourself up off the bed and making to storm out of room. jake stuck his arm out to block the door. ‘look, if you’d just listen-’

‘forget it, i said,’ you repeated yourself, pushing his arm out of the way before adding, ‘you’re good at that.’ with that you left the room, your blanket trailing behind you.

.❦.

[11:44] when you awoke on the sofa the following morning, it was to a sore back and a throbbing head. it had taken you hours to fall asleep and you felt anything but rested. your cheeks felt tight with the stains of dried tears, and as you sat up straight the events of the previous evening flooded your mind.

jake. as you remembered the wounded look on his face at your hurtful words, your heart ached, adding to your long list of pains. ‘such an idiot,’ you groaned, head in your hands.

berating yourself did little to relieve your discomfort however, so you dragged yourself up off the sofa and made your way blearily to the kitchen.

as you reached for the medicine cabinet, something stuck to the fridge caught your eye. a little envelope was tucked under one of your little puppy fridge magnets. removing it carefully, you turned it over in your hands to find your name scrawled on the back.

you opened it up and read:

morning angel,

you know i’m not good with words, but i need you to know how much i love you, and how sorry i am that i hurt you.

i should never have said the things i said. i know now how important this was for you and i should’ve been more understanding from the start.

it’s not that i don’t care, honestly it’s quite the opposite. i just want to celebrate every day that i get to spend loving you. you see, i think we’re timeless baby, no matter how long i’m with you i’m always going to be crazily in love with you, until we’re old and grey. no matter when someone asks me, now or fifty years from now, i’m gonna be telling them that you’re my baby, forever and always.

yours,

jake

p.s. i’m really sorry this is all in writing and not in person, but i had things scheduled all morning that i couldn’t get out of :( i promise i’m gonna make it up to you

p.p.s. i’m also sorry for my atrocious handwriting (you’re right, it does kinda look like a drunk spider slipped in ink and danced across the page)

the sheet of paper trembled in your hands.

‘y/n?’

you looked up with a jolt to see jake stood watching you by the door, his face fraught with concern. your eyes filled with tears as they met his, and he dropped his bags to the floor and rushed over to you. he pulled you into his arms, wrapping them tightly around you.

‘jake,’ you were sobbing into his chest now. ‘jake i’m so sorry. i’m so so sorry.’

‘shhh, i know baby, i know,’ he stroked the back of your head gently. ‘i’m sorry too.’

still a sniffling mess, you continued ‘i do want to be with you, i want to be with you forever and.. i want to be timeless with you.’

you tilted your head up to face him, eyes shining. ‘please,’

he held your face in his hands as he leant in to kiss you, his thumb brushing against your cheek gently. the way he kissed you made you feel like you were both alive and burning all at once, like he was a breath of fresh air, like you were drowning. when he finally pulled away, he smiled, running his thumb along your puffy bottom lip, before replying softly ‘yeah, timeless sounds good to me.’

pls don’t hesitate to send me requests ! i love writing these sm ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

©jaywonjuice | do not copy or re-upload my work on any platform

#enhypen fluff #enhypen #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #enhypen drabbles #enha #enhypen reactions #sim jake #sim jaeyun #enha jake #enha fluff #enha x reader #enha x y/n #enhypen soft thoughts #enhypen soft hours #enha soft thoughts #enha soft hours #enha drabble #jake angst #jake imagines #astrid answers ☆

[asamiontop]

“Bea.”

“Hm?” Beatrice grumbles, too close to sleep to keep from sounding grumpy.

“I’m cold.”

Ava sounds sheepish, unsure of herself in a way that Beatrice immediately aches to soothe. She turns to regard her bedmate.

(The singular bed in their Switzerland apartment had starred in many of their disagreements during their first week. Both of them refused to relegate the other to the narrow futon across the room—Beatrice because self-sacrifice was hammered into her cellular makeup and Ava because she couldn’t abide the idea of a too-tall Beatrice unable to fully lay flat on the lumpy cushion. In the end, stubbornness won and they agreed to share the bed, leaving a tenuous twenty centimeters of empty mattress between them. Twenty centimeters of which Beatrice was constantly and acutely aware.)

“I’m sorry to wake you,” Ava continues after a brief silence, “I know we have training early, I just… I can’t sleep. It’s too cold.”

The nervousness in Ava’s voice is unacceptable. Self-doubt in the Warrior Nun is unacceptable, Beatrice corrects. One of those truths urges her into alertness.

“It’s alright, Ava,” she offers with a yawn, “I understand.”

Working from memory, Beatrice calls up an image of their budget. She projects their next paychecks and expenses, factors in the potential for extra tips during the holiday weekend influx, and concludes they can afford to purchase an extra blanket at the flea market tomorrow. She had watched Ava steal the last available one—the scratchy wool thing thrown over the back of the couch—earlier this evening before bed.

“If we’re careful for the next week, tomorrow we can—”

“Canwemaybecuddle,” Ava blurts, interrupting Beatrice’s half-formed explanation. It’s supposed to be a question, Beatrice thinks, but the words sputter into the quiet midnight air like some sort of manic exclamation.

Sister Beatrice blinks. She breathes through the uncomfortably pleasant fluttering in her chest until she can consider the request rationally. Ava isn’t patient enough to await the deliberation.

“It’s just,” she begins, sounding increasingly panicked, “we don’t have any more blankets and my warm clothes are in the laundry and you’re always so hot—I mean, shit. I mean, that’s a survival tactic right? Huddling together for warmth? I saw it on a penguin documentary once.”

Ava’s logic is sound but Beatrice is too busy stifling a fond smile to say much of anything. Her silence drags on long enough that her bedmate whips her head over, wide-eyed and apologetic. Ava opens her mouth to backtrack, but in the diffuse lamplight her eyes catch on Beatrice’s lips wrapped tight around a swell of affection.

The worry slips away and a knowing grin transforms Ava’s expression. Ava doesn’t smother her fondness the way Beatrice does. No; it shines plain as day in her eyes as she mutters, “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? Letting me talk in circles?”

Beatrice’s mouth pulls to one side and she allows a small chuckle to slip through her control. “Just a bit. You have quite a talent for it.”

Ava snorts and nudges Bea with her elbow. “Well sometimes I can’t help it. You’re silent brooding can be pretty intimidating, you know.”

“Brooding?” Beatrice frowns, affronted. “I wouldn’t call it—”

Ava’s laugh tinkles in the room and Beatrice’s mouth snaps shut.

“Don’t worry, Bea. It’s cute brooding.”

Beatrice’s cheeks heat and she’s grateful for the dim lighting as her eyes seek neutral territory on the ceiling.

Maybe I only run hot around you.

The thought catches Beatrice entirely by surprise and she’s wrestling madly with it when Ava’s hand brushes hers, a small but meaningful breach of the no-man’s-land between them. It’s immediately comforting.

“Hey, don’t worry about it if it makes you uncomfortable,” Ava entreats, all teasing gone from her voice. “We don’t need to—uh, touch or anything. I’ll be okay.”

“No,” Beatrice latches into Ava’s fingers before she can pull away. Her brain catches up to her and she clears her throat, loosens her unexpectedly urgent grip on Ava’s hand. “I mean. You’re right. Increased proximity is an effective tactic to maintain body temperature.”

Stupidly, she adds, “And yes, Emperor Penguins do it.”

She can practically hear Ava’s smirk. “Oh my god, Bea.” The smirk grows into a laugh and Beatrice lets the small blasphemy slide.

“Did you just tell me that I’m right?” Ava’s delight practically glows as Beatrice rolls her eyes. Maybe the Halo is enjoying this too. “I can’t believe it. Wow, that’s like—”

“Shut up and turn over so I can spoon you.”

Ava goes absolutely still at the interruption.

“Uh—wh—” Ava chokes a bit, clears her throat of it eventually. “What?” She finally manages, barely above a whisper.

Calmly, which is an effort all on its own, Beatrice explains.

“The most efficient way to exchange body heat between two people is to maximize physical contact.” Her face burns at the words, which Beatrice will dismiss as productive, all things considered. “Therefore, spooning is the optimal, ahem, position.”

Beatrice makes no mention of the other ways to enhance the exchange of body heat that decide to flash across her pure, untainted mind.

“Oh, okay. Yeah.” Ava agrees and quickly does as she’s told, turning away from Bea and onto her side.

Beatrice follows, muttering a thoughtless “good, just like that” before it occurs to her not to. Ava makes a muffled squeak that Beatrice furiously ignores.

Faced with the planes of Ava’s shoulders, a commonplace sight made extraordinary by the offer hanging between them, Beatrice pauses to take a breath.

There’s no denying the acute eagerness with which her body prepares to scoot closer. The pull towards Ava is magnetic and steady—stronger the closer Beatrice gets. But it’s also honest and peaceful—right in a way that threatens to drag Beatrice’s entire value system into the blinding harshness of questioning light.

Beatrice struggles against the ease with which she slides forward. She finds her soul and her faith with no foes to fight. It’s jarring to spend a lifetime steeling oneself for resistance only to encounter nothing to oppose. Nothing but love, pure and unassuming, seeping through every crevice in the weakening constructs of Beatrice’s life.

(Love is the twist that Sister Beatrice never expected, undeniably holy and propelling her towards Ava, centimeter by broken centimeter.)

Her hand hovers above Ava’s waist, hesitant to initiate a contact that seems liable to shatter everything. She sucks in a fortifying breath and begins to count backwards from ten.

“Bea?” Ava’s gentle concern slices through her at seven and something settles in her chest.

“I’m here,” Beatrice murmurs and drops her palm over the dip of Ava’s side with a decisive exhale. Ava breathes along with her and somehow that small synchronicity is what erases all remaining doubt. “I’m going to move closer now. Okay?”

“Okay,” Ava confirms.

Beatrice smiles and shuffles forward, aligning her front to Ava’s back before settling into the mattress behind her. She stops breathing completely as Ava shifts to accommodate their closeness. Not because of friction or anything so untoward, but because the perfection with which Ava’s body slots against hers has the power to break her.

There’s a debilitating effortlessness in the way Ava fits, backside nestled benignly in the cradle of Beatrice’s hips and shoulder blades pressed evenly to the expanse of her chest. Beatrice’s legs jerk forward and settle completely against the length of Ava’s.

Ava sinks languidly into the curve of Beatrice’s body. Her smaller frame makes it so Beatrice is wrapped around her in every way but one.

Beatrice’s hand still hovers, debating whether it can go where it wants and maintain plausible deniability. Ava decides for her, reaching swiftly for Beatrice’s wrist and bringing it to her chest before either of them can question it.

Her arm falls around Ava’s middle, snaking up through the Halo Bearer’s and into a tangle of their hands. In the spaces between her fingers, Beatrice feels the faint thump of Ava’s heart.

Ava twitches once and tucks her frigid toes between Beatrice’s feet with a huff. The sting of cold draws Beatrice’s attention to the gooseflesh prickling the skin of Ava’s arms.

“You are cold,” she breathes, unsure why she’s surprised. It’s absolutely involuntary how her hold on Ava tightens at the observation.

“Mm,” Ava answers. She wriggles, making herself small, and settles deeper in Beatrice’s arms. “Better now, though.”

Beatrice finds herself beaming, haloed in a warmth that’s a different kind of divine than the ring burning in Ava’s back. She takes stock of the moment, each sound and each breath, and discovers nothing at all out of place. She reaches for every point of contact between them, extending her awareness into her body, and finds it balanced, utterly relaxed.

Here with Ava, there is peace. Peace for every unsettled part of her. And that… that is something new indeed.

Beatrice lets herself tip forward, rests her forehead against the crown of Ava’s head.

“Glad I could help,” she whispers, tugging Ava closer as her heart lurches with the piercing truth of that statement.

“You always help, Bea,” Ava mumbles sleepily. “You’re the best. ‘S why I love you.”

Beatrice inhales sharply, inadvertently fills her lungs with the simple cleanliness of Ava’s shampoo. It calms her unsettlingly fast.

Her shaky exhale ruffles the ends of Ava’s hair.

“Goodnight Ava,” Beatrice says in place of the emotion that’s taking hold of her windpipe.

“Night,” comes the barely intelligible response.

In one more breath, Ava’s asleep.

Slowly, Beatrice lifts her chin. Carefully, carefully, her lips make contact with the softness of Ava’s hair. Beatrice sighs, pressing the slightest of kisses where she rests.

“I love you, too,” she mouths inaudibly in the safety of her hiding place. “More than you know.”

Ava shifts, sighs, and sinks into Beatrice once more.

#Avatrice #warrior nun #ficlet #cuddling in Switzerland #many exist but add it to the list #couldn’t get this out of my head

[toji-girl]

Levi - 7

(Idk if i did this correctly 😅)

18+ content only - mdni

you did do it correctly yes 😌

tags: fem reader + modern au + explicit smut + age gap

Levi couldn't ignore the pang in his chest when the sweet scent of your perfume wafted around him when you sat so close to him. You were his assistant and younger, not by much but albeit.

Your skin glowed in the golden sunlight that streamed from the open windows, highlighting your features and the modern classroom.

"I can feel you staring, Mr. Ackerman, do I have something on face?" You hummed never breaking your concentration from grading.

Silver eyes narrowed, then shifted down to his own papers on the desk. "I was checking your work." He replied smoothly that if you were anyone else, you wouldn't have picked up on his tone.

You hummed again, making his blood sizzle as the two of you finished until the stack of papers resembled a paper mountain, and your eyelids felt like they weighed a ton. "Call it a evening?"

Levi didn't want to, but sleep always eluded him anyway.

"I'll see you tomorrow morning." He husked with a nod, watching as you stood up, gathering your things, working up the courage to ask you to stay.

It's been two years since you've been working under him, and he likes the flow between you and him, how you're able to shoot back so quickly with ease and a grin.

"I have a date, so I can't be late or I won't get another mate." Your rhyming usually made him chuckle or roll his eyes, but the mere mention of a date made his skin tighten with jealously.

The next evening, Levi could tell you were withdrawn. Your little comebacks didn't shine through his sass and it was clear you're upset.

"Bad date?" He questioned when he settled next to you. Your eyes never shifted from the paper as you shrugged, unsure what to tell him.

Levi is your boss, not some twenty-five year old co-worker you can gossip with about getting dicked down only to end up disappointed.

Your face flushed with warmth as you remembered how you moaned Levi's name and not your dates when he went down on you. It wasn't until then when you finally came and he left.

"Have a one night stand go bad?" You asked, letting the question settle between the lines of silence that was filled with static.

Levi shifted in his seat briefly, remembering a date he had a while ago with the same woman he's been going out with for the last several months and how he dreamt of your mouth instead of hers pleasuring him.

She knew exactly what to do to get a man to cum in less than a minute but Levi's guilt refused to let him experience the bliss and his orgasm was dry, painful leaving him irritated.

You were all he could think about. "No, sex should be with someone you have a connection with, so I don't do that." He simply replied.

Levi was always honest.

Sometimes, too honest, but you appreciated that about him.

"Well, when you want to get off...anyway it was awful, ever call someone's name out?"

Your question made his dick twitch with his fantasies of him kissing your pussy then riding him in his chair with your tits in his face.

He wanted to let his hands be greedy and feel you up. "No, I've never done that either."

"You are old." You teased rolling your eyes now feeling a bit perkier.

Levi took notice and handed you a stack of paper. "I'm a decade older, but that doesn't mean I don't know how to please a woman."

Courage or pure stupidity got a hold of your mouth and pried it open. "Prove it."

His eyes narrowed in challenge as you both engaged in a stare off until you leaned in closing the distance to kiss him fully on his mouth.

Levi's lips were soft and tasted like tea, his tongue parted your lips to sweep in your mouth as you scrambled from your chair to straddle him.

His bulge pressed against your aching pussy as you ground down on him as your fingers flew down his shirt to unbutton it and reveal his body to your touch that seared his flesh.

He hissed when you dipped down lower to unbuckle his belt. "Mr. Ackerman--" Your breath mingled with his as your nose bumped his.

Your gaze met in a heated exchange as his hands slid into your pants and panties to grope and squeeze while the both of you undressed each other with wet kisses that followed after.

At any time, anyone could walk in and see you two dry humping until you were naked in his lap, and he was half naked thrusting wildly up.

His cock slid between your slick pussylips separating them catching his tip on the soft opening of your cunt. He held you close to him and helped you sink down slowly.

The both of you let out soft, drawn-out moans as you rode him slowly, wrapping your arms around his neck as your tongues tangled.

#📝notes #levi smut #levi ackerman smut #Levi smut #aot smut #levi x you smut #levi x reader #levi x reader smut

[separatist-apologist]

Never Not Mine

Summary: Elain Archeron has been betrothed to the seventh born son of Autumn for as long as she can remember. With her family's reputation in the balance, Elain is resigned to her fate.

That doesn't mean she has to like it…or that she has to make it easy for him.

Chapter 1 | Read on AO3

Feyre and Nesta come to Autumn the night before Elain’s wedding, tanned and a little blonder than normal. It was too late to intervene—Elain had already been fitted for the dress she’d wear tomorrow and was, essentially, under lock and key. No guards, but an endless parade of servants that seemed to pop up any time she tried to leave the room.

Elain knew that was Lucien’s doing. He’d been sleeping on the sofa she now sat on each night, keeping watch so she didn’t try to escape and vanishing before she woke up. They’d barely exchanged a sentences worth of words since she’d foolishly climbed over the balcony.

“How are you feeling?” Feyre asked as Nesta paced back and forth. If she told her sisters the truth, they were likely to do something foolish. Something that got them all in trouble. Nesta was already trying to angle out of her marriage and didn’t need Elain mucking that up. 

“Excited,” she lied, catching the way Nesta’s eyes narrowed. “And nervous, of course. We barely know each other.”

“Is he kind?” Nesta demanded, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Yes,” Elain replied, not bothering to add that he was rude in equal measure. 

“All mother talks about is how handsome the Vanserra’s are,” Nesta said with a dark scowl. “I see nothing special about them.”

Feyre shrugged. “They’re not ugly.”

“They’re hardly beautiful, either,” Nesta argued. If Feyre said the sky was blue, Nesta would argue it was gray and if Nesta thought the Vanserra’s were ugly, then Feyre found them to be impossibly beautiful. They had always been that way, leaving Elain to mediate.

“There is a charm to them, certainly,” she agreed, not taking any particular stance. “I am acclimating well. How are things at home?”

“Dull,” Feyre said as Nesta opened her mouth. “I paint and Nesta plays piano and we wither away, waiting for our turn to be good, dutiful wives.”

“They’ve banned arranged marriages in Summer,” Nesta said sharply, her tone rife with implications. Run to Summer, she seemed to say. As if Summer would risk a war with their neighbors simply to harbor her. 

“Perhaps other courts will follow suit,” Elain said noncommittally. It was too late for her. Tomorrow she’d walk willing with Lucien through a priestesses temple, watched by her family and his as they pledged fidelity and honor to the other. It was a farce and one Elain was committed to seeing through, now. If her sisters managed to escape their own prescribed fates, she wished them well.

But there was no more escape for her. 

“Have you seen anything?” Feyre questioned. Elain bit her bottom lip.

Yes, she wanted to say. How did she explain that what she’d seen was a particularly steamy affair with the man she had sworn she wouldn’t touch until she was forced to. Elain refused to think about it lest Lucien scent the accompanying arousal that always followed and got the wrong idea.

Visions were imprecise, a snapshot of what could happen and not necessarily what would. A wrong turn, a different word spoken and the entire world rearranged itself. 

That did nothing to remove the image of Lucien without his clothes shifting over her, or the expression on his face—

“Elain?”

She blinked. “No, nothing. I haven’t looked, though, either.”

“Well, maybe you should tonight,” Feyre suggested. Elain only smiled, certain she did not want to know what the next day had in store for her. Let it remain a mystery, even from her. If she saw herself beneath him, she’d panic and never make it down the aisle. 

There was something she wanted, though, and Elain found exactly how to get it later that afternoon. Cadmus poked his head in, expression guarded.

“Lady Elain?” The second eldest Vanserra looked the most like his father, his red hair browner, his russet eyes lacking some of the ringed gold the rest of his brothers had. Even his features were those of the sharp elegance of the High Lord rather than the softer edges the Lady bore. “How are you?”

“I…” A dagger glinted off Cadmus’s belt, silver hilt inlaid with vibrant rubies. “Can I borrow that?”

Cadmus looked down at his body, hands hovering over the weapon. “My dagger?”

Elain made her eyes big and round as she bit her bottom lip, and hoped Cadmus was no better than the males back home. “I don’t know how to use it, if you’re worried for your brothers safety”

“What’s to know? Stick the sharp end in anything soft,” he said with a wry smile before unstrapping the hilt. “If you do stab my brother, try not to kill him.”

Elain blinked. “Just…just like that?”

“It’s become almost a tradition to provide my new sisters with a weapon to use against my brothers. I’m starting to think Vanserra’s like to be threatened.”

She frowned. “It’s not like that.”

“For you, maybe,” he chuckled, watching as Elain quickly hid the dagger beneath an ornate pillow. “If you’re frightened, though, you could tell me.”

That was curious. “Why? What would you do?”

“What any good brother would do. Knock him around like he’s a youngling again, and hope his good sense returns to him.”

“That’s…unexpectedly kind,” she murmured. 

“We’re nearly family, right?” he said gruffly, glancing back toward the hall. “Anyway ah…don’t kill him. And uh…if you need any help, ask Arina. You know, for plausible deniability.”

“Right,” she agreed, holding back the urge to laugh. The Vanserra’s could be so unintentionally funny when they wanted to be. Absently, Elain wondered what Nesta would make of Cadmus. Nothing positive, she decided.

Nesta was supposed to marry a High Lord, which was a tragedy given how she hated all of them. Maybe all men, truthfully—Elain had never once seen her sister betray any interest despite the numerous men who had been interested in her. 

Elain hid the dagger beneath her pillow once Cadmus left, just in case Lucien decided to try anything. Elain knew she was likely going to have to let him touch her, but if he tried anything she didn’t like, she’d whip the dagger out just to remind him that he might be married to her, but he didn’t own her. 

It made her feel a little better, though only marginally. As she made her way through the palace, Elain found servants hanging floral arrangements and cleaning every surface for the upcoming spectacle. Everything smelled like cinnamon somehow and if Elain was braver, she might have made her way to the kitchen to see what they were cooking.

If she was braver still, she might have asked to help.

Instead, Elain emerged into the gloomy afternoon with a heavy sigh. It felt like the world was mourning, too. She intended to meander through the apple orchard again, kicking the rotting fruit on the ground with the toe of her boot until she didn’t feel so angry anymore.

Instead, she found Connall and Tanwen standing off to the side, flanked by two smoke gray dogs, each holding a rather large axe. When they saw her, their eyes lit up.

“Baby sister!” They called in unison, making their way toward her. “Want to smash some pumpkins with us?” “Smash some what?” she repeated as one of the large dogs wound its way through her legs, sniffing at her clothes with curiosity. 

“Pumpkins,” Connall said, russet eyes glinting with mischief. 

“It’s an old tradition,” Tanwen added. Of the two, Tanwen was taller and built more like a warrior. Connall was slighter, with a prettier face and hands that didn’t look like they’d done a hard day's work in their life. Tanwen’s hair was longer and braided off his face while Connall sported a shaggier look that seemed like it was popular with whoever he was courting.

With a face like that, Elain guessed everyone. 

“Smashing pumpkins is a tradition?”

They nodded solemnly. Connall added, “Whenever the Forest House is overrun, we come out here and destroy the heaviest looking pumpkins we can find. C’mon, join us. Beats sulking through the grounds.”

“I wasn’t sulking,” she replied, though she fell into step between them. 

“Sure you weren’t,” Tanwen said, elbowing her gently. “I’m sure you are merely contemplating the marital bliss you’re soon to find with little brother.”

“I don’t know how to swing an axe,” Elain admitted. Connall’s smile sharpened.

“We’ll teach you.”

The pair, accompanied by a dog she later learned technically belonged to Arina—Apollo—and another that Tanwen was fond of—Artemis—made their way toward a sprawling pumpkin patch. Elain was fascinated as Tanwen and Connall picked out three large pumpkins, hauling them each one by one before dropping them at her feet.

“Ladies first,” Tanwen said, cheeks ruddy from exertion.

Elain considered them, before pointing at one that was still a little green and covered in warts. Connall picked it up for her and set it atop a tree stump before handing her the smooth, wooden handle of the axe.

“Hold it like this,” Tanwen began, positioning himself behind Elain so his arms were wrapped around her. Warm, callused hands covered her own as he positioned them on the handle.

“Pull it back like this—not too far or you’ll drop it and hurt yourself. Use the power from your thighs, okay? And then swing hard—”

“What the fuck are you doing?!”

The three turned and Elain realized Tanwen and Connall must have known Lucien was nearby. He looked furious, though it was hard to take him seriously with Arina skipping merrily at his side.

“I’m debauching your wife, what does it look like I’m doing?” Tanwen said, throwing a rather charming wink in her direction. “She doesn’t know how Autumn Court females treat a male on their wedding night—”

A snarl ripped from Luciens throat before he settled himself, running a hand through his windblown hair. “Shut your fucking mouth.”

“Am I not allowed to be here?” Elain demanded, pointing the axe at her soon-to-be husband. 

“Lucien’s just grumpy—”

“I’m not grumpy,” Lucien interrupted as Arina laughed, hands clasped in front of her body.

“Your sisters gave him a good dressing down.”

“It was pretty funny,” Eris Vanserra chimed in, wrapping an arm around his wife's neck to kiss the top of her head. “Nesta Archeron has a barbed tongue and no sense of propriety.”

“That’s not true,” Elain protested, interested in what her sister said. “You’re thinking of Feyre.”

“It was both of them,” Lucien grumbled as he rubbed his jaw. “I thought the ladies of the Spring Court were sweet.”

Elain took that moment to swing, her sharpened blade slicing easily through the pumpkin. Tanwen whooped as Connall and Eris laughed and Lucien…Lucien merely watched, his expression unreadable. 

“Who told you that?” Elain asked him, dress covered in pumpkin guts. 

It felt good, though, in that moment, to wipe the look off his face. She was sweet. 

Just not for him.

LUCIEN:

Lucien tugged at the golden cuffs on his maroon jacket. He was deeply uncomfortable and somehow sweating despite how early it was.  He hadn’t slept at all the night before and given the noises coming from behind the door that they were about to share, Elain hadn’t either. It hadn't been crying, exactly…but something akin to mourning had been happening. It occurred to him that perhaps Elain had her own Jesminda that she missed.

Lucien couldn’t bring himself to care much. Instead, he perched himself in a tree outside the palace, closed his eyes, and prayed. 

Bring her back to me. Please, I’ll do anything. I’ll give you anything.

Easy words for a male who knew the Mother would not indulge this request. Lucien would have traded anything to see Jesminda right then. To hear her tell him it was going to be okay and somehow, someway this was all going to work out in their favor. He wanted to feel her hands on his face, her mouth slanted against his. He wanted to bury himself inside her and sob into her shoulder as he told her about the nightmare he was living.

And to do so would be the ultimate betrayal of the love he felt for her. To see her was to condemn her to death. She was gone, and Lucien knew she wouldn’t come back, and if she did, he wouldn’t touch her. Wouldn’t acknowledge her.

Wouldn’t look at her.

It didn’t stop him from pretending anyway. What kind of male was he, he wondered? His wife was inside preparing herself to marry him and he was outside wishing she was someone else. Daydreaming about another female. Would he think of Jesminda as he betrayed her later that night? 

Lucien half hoped Jesminda hated him. He certainly hated himself.

Lucien remained outside until Eris tracked him down, dressed in a deep brown jacket and cream colored pants. His brother swung himself easily into the tree, grunting softly as he sat on the opposite branch. “Brooding?”

It was almost comical. It was a scene they’d played before, only in opposite roles. Lucien had once gone looking for Eris the day of his wedding, finding him in the same tree likely with the same look of frustration on his face. Eris had wanted a way out, too, and he’d known what was waiting on the other end for him was his mate. There was something to work toward, at least.

Lucien didn’t care what Arina said—he didn’t believe he could love someone as deeply as he loved Jesminda and not be mates. 

“Just thinking,” Lucien said, wishing Eris would mind his own business. 

“You’ve got ten more minutes to find a last minute loophole,” Eris warned. “Though, I think you should marry her.”

“Of course you do.”

“She’s better than the females at court. Do you want father to pick one of them?”

“I want him to let me choose my own wife,” Lucien snarled, unable to keep his anger down.

“Love is for the lesser fae,” Eris said, ignoring the fact that he was in love with his wife. That was merely luck, Lucien supposed. “You are simply a cog in fathers political machinations. You know that.”

“Why not Tanwen? Or Cadmus?”

“Because Elain is a second daughter with no magical ability, unlike her sisters,” Eris reminded him, a cold edge creeping into his voice. He ought to have known better than to look for comfort from his brother. Eris had done his duty no matter how little he’d wanted to, giving Eris a mate and Beron a foot in the solar courts. “He needs sons he can marry off to all his most important nobles. Count yourself lucky that isn’t your fate”

“Is this luck?”

“Elain is nice,” Eris reminded him. “She’s not scheming and you’re unlikely to find her in Tanwen’s bed.”

“Are you sure about that?” Lucien asked, a surge of jealousy flooding through him. He didn’t want her, and yet didn’t want anyone else to want her, either. She was merely off limits. If he could have, he’d have ordered them all not to speak to her, either. 

Swinging his legs out of the tree, Eris landed smoothly back on solid ground. The world was mocking him—after two weeks of rumbling thunder and moody fog, the sun had come out blazing, igniting the world in a golden glow. 

“I’m certain. Now get down before father realizes you’re missing and takes the lash to your back on your wedding night.” Lucien considered it only briefly, but ultimately chose to join Eris on the ground, heart thudding painfully in his chest. 

Eris didn’t look at him at all, adorned in a crown of burnished leaves similar to the one Lucien wore. As they stepped back into the Forest House, Lucien felt the full weight of it for the first time in his life. Never had he ever felt more like a High Lord's son, the weight of his responsibility and duty dragging behind him like chains wrapped around his ankles.

He was drowning, and it didn’t matter. Lucien followed Eris through the labyrinth of halls toward the adjoining temple that spiraled deep into the ground, housing their family jewels and a private library you need permission to enter. Lucien knew on any given day, Arina would be down in the dark reading by faelight. 

Priestesses historically were not welcome in Autumn. Beron found them too scheming, but feared angering the mother by shutting them out entirely. His solution was using daughters of Autumn, deemed unlikely to marry by their families, and making them priestesses with fathers that had a vested interest in curbing their ambition. Housing them in the palace allowed the High Lord to keep a watchful eye on them via his wife, who was charged with overseeing the priestesses along with the ladies at court. 

Now the head priestess stood at the end of the temple, adorned by multicolored light from the stained glass behind her. Rows of benches held their families, though Beron sat behind the priestess on a throne built specifically for him, lest anyone forget the true power of Autumn. 

Elain was waiting in the atrium just outside, dressed, hilariously, in a fluffy gown of white lace and pale pink ribbon. Her hair was piled high atop her head, as if someone with a grudge had decided to try and make the beautiful Elain as unappealing as possible.

It was working, too. Lucien couldn’t help his barking laugh when he saw her, the sound echoing off the vaulted ceilings overhead. Elain turned, eyes wide with horror that melted into irritation.

“Be quiet,” she hissed, shoving the traditional red ribbon of Autumn against his chest. His brothers filed in behind them, not daring to make eye contact or otherwise react. 

“Who did you piss off?”

“This was my mothers wedding dress,” Elain informed him, chin held high in the air. “And the traditional bridal clothes of Spring.”

Lucien only shook his head, thinking of how lovely Arina had looked draped in red. There was no point in starting his marriage by telling his wife she looked awful, but…well. Lucien wondered if Elain felt beautiful right then.

“Come on,” he murmured, offering her his arm. Elain took a breath, eyes glassy, but otherwise nodded her head. She had more conviction on her expression than Lucien felt, and it was sobering. This was happening, he realized. Under the watchful gaze of not just his father, but the High Lord of Spring, Lucien was marrying this stranger. Lucien could barely breathe, couldn’t think as he stood in that beam of light, eyes trained on Elain without actually seeing her. Elain seemed to be employing similar tactics, repeating the words when demanded but otherwise standing utterly still.

Something was building, some emotion Lucien thought must be radiating out of him. It wasn’t fear and it wasn’t hatred, though it felt somehow like both mixed together. Holding the ribbon in his hand, Lucien began winding it around their wrists until the long sleeves of her ugly dress pushed upward, pressing them skin to delicate skin. 

The scene of Elain invaded his senses once again, making him dizzy. He needed fresh air, to get far, far away from her. Elain looked up at him through dark lashes, their eyes connecting just as the priestess pronounced them married. Something solid slammed into him. 

No, not slammed.

Snapped.

Lucien stumbled backwards, forgetting for a moment they were still tied together. Elain came with him, falling into his chest and oh, he wished she wouldn’t touch him just as his traitorous body ignited with pleasure.

Touch her, smell her, taste her—

Lucien righted Elain, trying to apologize but unable to get the words out. If he spoke, he might just blurt the truth out. 

You’re my mate.

If Elain knew, she was doing a far better job than he was hiding it. Her expression was one of confusion but not of recognition. If she didn’t know, good. There must be some way out, he reasoned, even as every other part of him rebelled at the thought. The Mother was mocking him. Elain Archeron was mocking him, with her beautiful face half lost under the weight of her gown and hair. Who had done this to her?

Lucien wanted to kill them.

“Are you okay?” Elain whispered, ignoring the crowd promptly descending upon them.

It wasn’t a lie when he said, “No. I’ve never been less okay in my life.”

And it was all her fault.

ELAIN:

Elain wanted to cry. The Lady of Autumn had done her best to try and make Elain look presentable, but it had been her mothers wishes to see her dressed like a traditional bride of Spring—the sort that had fallen out of fashion centuries before. She could still hear Lucien's barking laugh in her ear and the look of disgust on his face once he’d tied that ribbon around them.

It shouldn’t have mattered, truthfully, but Lucien had looked every inch an Autumn Court prince and she…she’d looked ridiculous. Embarrassing. Only her mother was happy, which seemed to be the only thing that ever mattered. Who cared if Elain was suffering internally so long as everyone else got what they wanted? 

Stomping from the great hall, where a lavish feast in her honor had been prepared, Elain made her way outdoors into the sunshine. It was only there that she began pulling pins out of her hair like a petulant child, tossing them to the leaves with reckless abandon. 

Why couldn’t she make peace with what was happening? Everyone else in her position had. Arina and Eris were in love, her parents were in love, the Lady of Autumn and the High Lord…tolerated each other. And Elain couldn’t even muster that. 

She hated Lucien with a passion that clawed at her chest and threatened to strangle her. She didn’t want him to touch her, not like this. Not when the sight of him cringing away as he disentangled himself from her and promptly walked away without so much as a reassurance that things would be okay.

She’d left him downing a cup of wine and imagined he’d be so drunk he was incapacitated for the night. That was a good thing, right? So why did it make her feel so awful? So ugly, so…so unwanted. Cast aside by everyone, loved by no one. She wanted to curl up somewhere and wait to see how long it took them to notice she was missing.

Elain turned her attention to the forest, determined to march right in. She bet Lucien noticed when it was time to do his husbandly duty. Then he’d be missing her. That's all she was good for anyway, right?

Elain didn’t make it two steps before someone stopped her. It wasn’t Lucien or his brothers, nor was it her sisters or anyone from the Spring Court. The male standing before her oozed darkness, with shadows trailing after him like a cape and eyes so vividly blue they looked like twinkling, violet stars.

Elain took a step back on instinct. “You shouldn’t be here,” she said, knowing exactly who stood before her. She’d never met him, nor his father, though she had heard the rumors about the High Lord of Night. They said he’d killed Tamlins father.

They said Tamlin killed his. 

Rhysand didn’t need to wear a weapon to seem lethal. Tall and powerfully built, she was certain if he wanted to, he could end her right there. His lips curved upward into a smile and too late, she remembered the people in his court were rumored to read minds.

“I hear congratulations are in order. Married to little Lucien…how delighted you must be.”

“I…” Elain trailed off, heart hammering like a jack rabbit. 

“I don’t think I’d leave my new bride to wander the grounds,” Rhysand continued, jamming his hands into his pockets absently. “But perhaps the males of Autumn are more…liberated…here.”

Elain’s mouth was dry. “Can I help you with something?”

Rhysand cocked his head, a lock of blue black hair trailing into one of his eyes. “Can you help me?” he asked, pondering this question with faux concentration. “I suppose you can. I’m looking for—”

“Rhysand!” Eris Vanserra barked, crunching onto leaves without ceremony. “Decided to show your ugly face for once? Or will I find your spy lurking in my woods again?”

“There’s no need for hostility,” Rhysand purred, eyes trailing behind Eris toward Feyre, who’d clearly been trailing Eris. “I’ve come to speak with your father.”

“Does Elain Archeron look like the High Lord of Autumn?” Eris demanded, his annoyance plain.

“She is far lovelier, I’ll admit, though your father has his charms—”

“Stop talking,” Eris muttered, nodding his head toward the doors so Rhysand would follow. Elain watched the High Lord of Night even when Eris’s fingers curled around her wrist, dragging her back inside with him. Rhysand was looking at Feyre in her spring green gown, hair half braided off her face. There was something curious about his expression—as if he’d never seen a female before and wanted to study her.

Feyre wrinkled her nose back, betraying her unguarded disgust before turning on her heel and flouncing back inside and to Elain’s surprise, Rhysand chuckled. He didn’t know how skilled Feyre was with a weapon, training in secret with a sentry she’d once been friends with before Tamlin found out and had him sent to the border. It was too late, then. Feyre was a menace with a bow and arrow and not horrible with a sword, either. No one could control her and in truth, not many tried.

Elain wondered what Tamlin would do with a wife that liked to stalk the woods for monsters. Monsters like Rhysand, Elain thought, wondering if Feyre hadn’t sensed his presence and come looking for the disturbance. She half wanted to see the showdown, if only to watch a High Lord get trounced by a noble's youngest daughter.

Feyre was nowhere to  be found by the time they all landed in the Great Hall. The once lively feast fell silent—even the musicians stopped their playing to watch, wide-eyed, as Rhysand strolled into the room. His eyes slid over the long tables piled with food, the people stopped mid-dance, and those that sat at tables holding goblets, drinking until their fair skin was ruddy from wine.

He grinned when he saw Beron. “Sorry I’m late,” he said, not sounding very sorry at all. Beron looked murderous, though he stood quickly while eyeing Eris trailing just behind. Elain watched as Cadmus fell into step beside his elder brother, the two flanking their father when he came down the elevated platform that held the throne he’d been lounging on. Everyone tried to pretend this was merely business as usual.

The music restarted and chatter resumed as Beron and Rhysand made their way out of the room, but Elain knew every immortal ear was straining to hear what was whispered between them. Why now, she wondered? Tamlin was gripping his goblet so tightly Elain could see the whites of his knuckles and Nesta’s eyes danced with silver flames, arms crossed over her chest.

Elain started to make her way to Nesta to ask when Lucien caught her attention. He was drunk, she realized. Stumbling forward, he grinned broadly not at her, but at someone behind her. Elain didn’t turn to see the female he was making eyes at, unwilling to even acknowledge how humiliating his behavior was. 

“You reek,” Elain hissed, catching Lucien by the arm and turning him around. “Go drink some water.”

“Telling me what to do already?” he asked, eyes strangely glassy as he looked down at her. There was an intensity to his expression she didn’t think she liked. It was as if he was undressing her with his gaze. 

“Yes. Water. Now,” she hissed quietly enough that no one but Lucien could hear.

“And if I say no?” he challenged. Elain wanted to cry. 

“You are not the only one experiencing misery, Lucien, and yet am I out here making a fool of you?” she demanded, hating the way her voice cracked beneath angry tears. “You could at least keep it behind closed doors.”

Lucien considered this. “You’re right. I…” he swallowed, sliding his hand over hers in the crook of her elbow so she had to join him as he went for water. “Sit down and eat something.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Do it, or I’ll feed you from my hand like a baby bird,” he threatened, pulling out a chair from a neglected, empty table. Lucien dropped beside her, gulping down icy water as Elain picked food from a platter in front of her and spread it over two plates.

“Here,” she said, pushing a plate toward a wide eyed, strangely ashen looking Lucien.

“I—I’ve eaten already,” he said, gingerly moving the plate further from view. “You’re kind to offer, though.”

He was so strange, she decided. If he didn’t want to eat, he could suffer, then. No one could say she hadn’t tried, though. Elain began chewing, lost in thoughts of Rhysand just outside the forest grounds and her family that would vanish before the night was over. Her stomach tumbled as she thought about what the night had in store for her. Perhaps if she closed her eyes tightly it would be over quickly without a lot of fuss.

“Was there another male?” Lucien asked abruptly, interrupting Elain’s considerations. Looking at him, she found that same burning intensity from a few moments before. She didn’t think she liked when he looked at her that way.

“What?”

“Back in Spring. Was there a male you…preferred?”

Elain shook her head, though she wanted to ask why it even mattered? She was here, wasn’t she, wishes be damned? 

“None?” 

“No, Lucien. I’ve been set aside for you my entire life.”

“Sure, but…” he rubbed the back of his neck. “That didn’t mean you had to…”

Elain wished a hole would open beneath her and swallow her up. Surely he wasn’t implying that he wished she’d been with someone else mere hours before he was about to be with her? If she’d been less of a lady, she might have launched herself across the table to throttle him. 

“Please do not worry about it,” she implored, desperate for this conversation to end. “Let’s just…lets just get through this afternoon.” Lucien eyed her dress again, but kept whatever comments he had to himself. “Fine.”

His reluctant compliance was better than expected. And Elain would take what she could get.

LUCIEN:

“You’re acting strange,” Arina said, catching Lucien in the hall on the way to his new bed chamber. His old one had been cleared out without ceremony, and he’d bet if he went to Elain’s room, he’d find her folding his clothing like a good little wife

“I’m not,” he lied. Lucien was desperately trying to avoid his brother and Arina, if only because he was afraid that might see him and just know somehow. Or smell it, more likely—the way he could currently smell the mating bond Arina and his brother shared wrapped around her like a lingering perfume.

It smelled like sex. Lucien hated it. It was like a warning pushing up against him, reminding him that she belonged to someone—a male who might rip Lucien’s throat out, should he feel like it. Elain seemed oblivious to what was happening which was the only mercy Lucien could find in their miserable situation. How long could he keep her in the dark before she realized? Before she felt the pull, the urge to touch him, too? Before someone scented him on her and told her? 

“What’s going on?”

“Besides being actually married to a stranger, nothing at all. I, for one, have never been better—”

“Don’t use that tone with me,” Arina snapped, clearly irritated. “There’s something else about you.”

“I’m just…” Lucien ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “It's my wedding night, Arina, and my wife hates me. Put the pieces together.”

“I doubt she’ll be upset if you put it off.”

“Or she’ll run and tell her father to get out of the marriage,” Lucien retorted, though truthfully, Elain simply didn’t seem like the vindictive sort. His mind drifted back to lunch, watching as she put together two plates as his mind warred. On the one hand, the part of him driven by instinct had been screaming and clawing for him to simply accept it from her, thus cementing the bond before she ever had a choice.

The other, more rational part of him, wanted to throw that plate across the room before cursing at the Mother for what she’d done. It was supposed to be Jesminda. It was Jesminda. Lucien’s heart beat erratically at the realization that all the times he’d laid with her and sworn she was his mate, when they’d laced their fingers and talked about when it might snap…all of it had been a farce. 

Lucien couldn’t stop thinking about Jes’s own mate. He was out there somewhere. Maybe she’d find that male and she’d realize what they had paled in comparison. Would she laugh a little at their silliness? How young they’d been, how foolish to believe what they had transcended the gods.

Lucien would have left Elain if Jes appeared right then. If she’d asked him—he wouldn’t make her beg—he would have left. Damned Elain, his life, his mating bond, just to see her again. And he knew that if Jes learned he had a mate, she’d bow out entirely. When the bond snapped, there was a finality to it. 

He was a mated male. He owed it to Elain to try and make things work, and maybe he owed it to himself, too. That didn’t mean Lucien wanted it, either. Gods, he didn’t know what he wanted other than to drink himself into oblivion and wait for some obvious answer to present itself.

“When Eris informed you that you were his mate, what did you do?” Lucien asked, interrupting Arina’s self-important lecture about being a good husband.

“I suffocated the air in the room until he got on his knees and apologized,” she said, eyes gleaming with amusement. “That’s different, Lucien.” Elain probably couldn’t nearly kill him—he’d been told she had no magic to speak of—but he imagined her reaction would go nearly as well. 

“Just…let me deal with my marriage my way, okay?” Lucien ordered, unwilling to be nice to Arina at that moment. Butt out, he wanted to add, though slipping into his bedroom and closing the door behind him was response enough. 

Inside was something out of Lucien’s personal hell. Elain rose to her feet when she saw him, eyes bright from what seemed to be some amount of crying. Her hair was unbound and artfully arranged around a night dress that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. Lucien blinked, frozen in place as his eyes moved of their own accord.

BETRAYER

“I—put on a robe, please,” Lucien managed, turning in a circle like some kind of animal. She was his. He had no claim to her at all. The competing desires threatened to unmake him. Lucien heard Elain sniff.

“Shouldn’t we…”

“Not like this,” he breathed, certain he would have felt that way even without the mating bond. “I—we could just…go to bed?”

“What about…you know?”

Lucien took a steadying breath and turned again, relieved to find Elain had wrapped a throw around her body. Her face had a little more color, her eyes a little less red. 

“If I offered to just…pretend…would you tell someone?”

“No,” she breathed with the saddest look of hope on her face. “I would swear we did.”

Oh, thank the Mother. “Then we’ll turn the lights off, get into bed, and in the morning go about our business as if we did.”

Elain nodded, dropping the blanket gently to walk to their bedroom. Lucien nearly choked at the sight of her from behind. Mother spare him, she’d be the death of him. Lucien didn’t need to like a female in order to admit she was appealing and Elain…Elain was just as pretty from behind as she was from the front. His eyes slid down her spine, landing on the soft curve of her waist, the flare of her hip, the sway of her ass. 

Cauldron damn him.

Elain turned as Lucien steadied himself on the frame, wondering if sleeping beside her was a good idea at all. Servants talked—and everyone was nosy. If he was caught sleeping on the sofa, his father would know and put Lucien in a deeply uncomfortable position. Lucien wouldn’t put it past his father to demand to watch. He’d like enjoy knowing that he ruined every other coupling they’d ever have.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she warned, holding up a trembling finger. Was he looking at her in some particular kind of way? Lucien was certain he wasn’t. Still, he merely crossed his arms over his chest as he eyed his new wife. 

“I was lost in thought,” he said, forcing himself to look only at her face. As if that made things any better. She was so heartbreakingly beautiful it made his teeth ache. She’d always been beautiful, which had warranted the space—if he spent too much time in her presence, he might find he liked her, and liking the woman who’d been forced upon him felt like giving in to his fathers demands.

Or worse, admitting Beron might have been right about him. 

Elain still eyed him warily as he crossed the room, grabbing a pair of linen pants neatly folded in a drawer that had her scent all over it. In the bathroom, Lucien splashed cold water on his face and ordered himself to get together. The mating bond was making him stupid. He didn’t want her…and yet he did. Physically, anyway. Lucien wondered if he could get away with escaping to one of the nearby cities for a few weeks just to clear his head long enough to stand in her presence. 

He returned to find Elain dividing the bed in half using pillows. “That’s not necessary,” he mumbled, reaching over her to toss one to the floor. “And obvious.” “I don’t want you getting any ideas,” she replied in that prissy way of hers. 

Lucien bared his teeth. “Trust me, lady. My only idea is sleep.”

“I thought all males wanted—”

“I’m not an animal,” he growled, fully aware he was a liar. “I don’t relish the thought of forcing myself on someone, wife or otherwise.”

“And if I never want you?” Elain asked, eyes narrowed to slits.

“I’ll tell all of Pyrthian you are terribly infertile and I’m a martyr—”

Elain launched a pillow at his face. “You’re not funny.”

Lucien flopped into bed, one hand thrown over his face. “You wound me.”

“I don’t believe anything could wound that over inflated ego of yours,” she responded. Lucien was learning that despite her meek appearance, his wife had a sharp tongue. He rather liked it, if only because it absolved him of any guilt he might feel for his own remarks. 

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” Lucien said, settling against the pillow. “You could tell me, you know. If there was another male.”

“There wasn’t. There isn’t.” There was something bitter about her tone.

“Never?” he questioned, his curiosity making him stupid.

“Never.”

“You’re not…?” Shut up shut up shut up— “You’re not curious?”

“Stop talking, Lucien.”

“If it were me—”

“I know where you’re going with this, and I’m telling you to stop while you’re ahead,” Elain gritted out. “Find someone else, if you’re feeling frustrated, but don’t try and frame my lack of experience as an opportunity.”

“Cauldron, Elain, I wasn’t…” But he was. Lucien knew it was a bad idea. If he got himself in her with the mating bond pounding in his chest, he was likely to take things too far, to do something he regretted. He couldn’t help himself no matter how badly he wanted to, and her proximity was clouding his judgment. He tried to pull up an image of Jes, but his mind shifted to Elain in sheer white lace and the rosy pink of her nipples—

Lucien rolled over, frustrated more with himself than anything else. There was no way he was going to sleep, no way he trusted his dreams not to betray him.

Not for the first time, he wished he was dead.

But maybe it was the first time he’d wished for it the loudest.

And the gods did nothing.

#elucien #im planning to update 3 on tuesday #ill be out of town all weekend

[lau219]

Won’t You Be My Neighbor?

Part 10

Previous part here

…………………………………………………………………………….

Stacy: Sure, no problem. Are you ok? Do you want me to talk to him?

Y/N read Stacy’s text message response before quickly typing out a reply. She’d messaged Stacy, explaining that she and Emmett had gotten in a pretty bad argument the previous night, and asking her if she could please come and get the boys and watch them at her house tomorrow, and for the next several nights. Y/N had no idea what she’d do after then, but she was just focused on the immediate future for the time being.

Y/N: No, that’s ok, thanks. I think we just need to have some distance between us for a while. I’m so sorry to ask you, but I didn’t know what else to do.

Stacy: Don’t worry; it’s totally fine. But just for the record, I think you two will come to an understanding much quicker if you just talk rather than avoid each other.

Y/N: Thanks, I’ll think about it.

Y/N set her phone back down on the nightstand after closing out of Stacy’s message and still not responding to the one Emmett had sent her earlier that day asking her if they could talk. She hadn’t answered the phone the two times he’d tried calling her, either.

Now early evening, she was starving, as she’d stayed holed up in her room all day watching TV to avoid being seen by him through her downstairs windows. But as it began to feel like her stomach was eating itself, she discreetly made her way downstairs and into the kitchen, hoping he wouldn’t happen to see her from across the driveway.

After what happened in her kitchen the previous night, she’d completely avoided Emmett after dashing back outside. She was both absolutely mortified, as well as completely confused, and she hadn’t even fully believed that what had happened actually happened, until she’d changed her clothes later on and the proof of their little rendezvous was evident on her panties. She’d blushed every possible shade of red as she’d dropped them in the washing machine, and she couldn’t even look at herself in the mirror, which was still the case today.

She was mortified because she couldn’t believe how easily she’d given in the second Emmett had grabbed her. Despite the way he’d spoken to her, the pull she felt to him was irresistible, and as soon as his lips had touched hers, she’d only wanted more. It was pathetic how easily she’d melted.

But it was also just such an awkward situation. They had still been fighting literally as they were having sex, and she’d willingly given in to the possessiveness and control Emmett had shown, and she was so embarrassed by how turned on she’d been. She couldn’t get the feel of his hands on her or the sound of his voice out of her head.

But she also couldn’t understand why it had happened at all, and why Emmett was so upset that she had agreed to Stacy’s set up when he had neither said nor done anything else prior to their little encounter to show that he was interested in her. She figured it was some weird, territorial guy thing – he didn’t want her, but he didn’t want anyone else to have her. Well, she wasn’t interested in any of the drama or heartache that came with that scenario. She refused to be in another situation where she hoped for bliss but was treated like garbage. If he didn’t want her, then he couldn’t have her.

Now, she just had to try and get rid of her unreciprocated feelings.

———————————————

Emmett had been completely restless since the moment Y/N had walked out on him the night prior. They’d been interrupted before he’d had a chance to explain anything to her, and after going back outside to the party, she’d made sure there was at least five yards of space between them for the rest of the night. Any time it was evident he was going to try to approach her to talk, Y/N moved away, her face flushing and refusing to meet his eyes as she wove her way around people and tables. Eventually, she’d called it a night and gone back inside her house, turning off every light, and when he’d tried to get in touch with her several times today, he got no response. He wasn’t even sure if she was home now, as there’d been no sign of life at her house all day.

He figured she was confused, and he couldn’t blame her. Remembering how she’d said that it was obvious he wanted nothing to do with her, he realized that the way he’d gone from pulling back to then suddenly being jealous, scolding her, and kissing her wouldn’t make much sense to anybody.

Well, he’d done a lot more than just kiss her, and as wild as the situation had been, Emmett couldn’t help but still be insanely turned on by the entire thing. He’d been on the verge of grabbing her the whole night, and once he’d heard about her date and had her alone in that kitchen, he wasn’t leaving, no matter how mad at him she was.

He knew he’d been out of line with how he’d spoken to her, but in the moment, he’d been too wrapped up in jealousy to care, and something between them drew out a side of him that wanted nothing more than to both worship her and put her in her place at the same time. He couldn’t get the feel of her body against his or the sound of her desperate little gasps out of his head, and that, combined with how he felt about her, was making this silent treatment she was giving him unbearable. He needed to talk to her so that they could clear things up, and if she wasn’t going to answer her phone, he’d have to figure something else out.

———————————————

Y/N was incredibly grateful when Monday finally rolled around and she had the distraction of work to keep her from thinking about Emmett too much. They still hadn’t spoken or seen each other, and she’d asked Stacy to come up with some explanation to tell Henry and Max as to why Y/N wouldn’t be around for them this week.

After returning to the ER after lunch, Y/N was quickly approached by Melissa, who hastily handed her a blood pressure cuff as she spoke.

“There’s a guy in Bay 12 with a bad laceration on his arm, but I just got called over to help prep for an emergency surgery. Can you go see him?”

“Sure,” Y/N replied as she put her stethoscope around her neck. “Any other info on this guy?”

“No,” Melissa shook her head. “He just got here; reception is still entering his intake form.”

“Ok,” Y/N replied as she picked up an exam clipboard. “Go ahead; I’ve got it.”

“Thanks,” Melissa smiled at her and then headed off through the double doors.

Walking down the hallway to the end of the large room, Y/N stopped in front of Bay 12 and looked down at the clipboard in her hand as she reached up with her other hand to grab the privacy curtain. Her head still down, she pulled the curtain back slightly and stepped into the bay, beginning to speak as she readjusted the piece of paper on her clipboard.

“Ok, so, I understand you hurt your arm,” she started. “Let’s have a look.”

As she finished her sentence, Y/N finally lifted her head, and her heart dropped into her stomach when she saw Emmett sitting on the edge of the hospital bed in front of her. There was a moment of silence as their eyes met and she registered that it was him, and when she spoke, her throat suddenly felt very dry.

“I’m gonna go get someone else to help you,” she said, and she began to turn again.

“Y/N, wait,” Emmett said, and she stopped. “Please, will you just do it? I’ve already been sitting here for 30 minutes and this hurts like hell.”

Facing him once more, Y/N looked at him for a moment. He was holding a paper towel to his forearm, and despite how badly she wanted to get out of there, she knew she couldn’t leave him if he really was hurt. Inhaling a deep breath, she set the clipboard down on the counter before she silently walked up to Emmett and stopped beside him at the bed. Avoiding his eyes, she opened the drawer of the nearby cabinet and pulled out some rubber gloves, feeling him watching her as she put them on. It was silent for a moment, and then Emmett spoke.

“Y/N, listen, the other night—" he began as he looked at her, her head still down. But she cut him off before he could finish.

“Sorry, there’s no talking allowed back here,” she said, shaking her head as she pulled some cleansing pads and gauze from the drawer. She still refused to meet his eyes.

“Y/N, we need to ta—”

“Shhh!” she cut him off again, her face burning with embarrassment.

“You’re gonna have to talk to me eventually,” he said.

She just shook her head and pursed her lips, saying nothing as she gingerly gripped his hand and lifted it along with the paper towel he was holding to his forearm. But upon revealing his arm, she saw that he had nothing more than a small scratch that had barely even drawn blood, let alone required an ER visit. Lifting her head slowly, she narrowed her eyes at him as she realized the trick he’d played.

“You wouldn’t answer my calls,” he said by way of explanation, but Y/N just narrowed her eyes again.

“You can leave the same way you came in,” she said as she pulled off her gloves. She would kill Melissa for helping him pull this little stunt and sending her to see him.

“I’m not leaving until you talk to me,” Emmett responded.

“Then you’re gonna be here a while,” Y/N replied, and she began to turn around. But before she could take a full step, Emmett reached out and grabbed her wrist, stopping her.

“We need to talk about what happened the other night,” he said.

She shook her head feverishly.

“No, we don’t. We never need to talk about it. In fact, forget it even happened.”

Emmett looked her in the eyes.

“There’s no way I’m ever going to forget it,” he said. “And I don’t want to.”

Y/N felt the blush creep from the base of her throat to the roots of her hair.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked him, pulling her wrist out of his grasp. “Haven’t you embarrassed me enough?”

“I’m not trying to embarrass you,” Emmett said. “I’m trying to explain myself.”

“There’s nothing to explain,” Y/N replied. “I know it was just some territorial thing. But if you don’t want me, then you don’t get to do that.”

“Who said I don’t want you?” Emmett responded, looking into her eyes.

Y/N’s heart pounded as she stared back at him, speechless.

“I didn’t want you to feel pressured,” Emmett began explaining. “I know what you’ve been through, and even though it seemed like we were on the same page, I didn’t know for sure, and so I thought I should give you space.” He paused. “But then, I found out you agreed to Stacy’s set up.”

Turning, Y/N began to put the supplies she’d retrieved back in the drawer, not looking at him.

“Yes, I did, but not because I wanted to,” she said.

“Then why did you?” Emmett asked her.

Y/N turned back towards him but looked down at the floor.

“I was trying to get over you,” she replied quietly. “I thought maybe something was…happening with us, but then you got distant, and so I figured you decided you didn’t really want me.”

At that, Emmett reached out and gently grabbed her hand, and Y/N lifted her head to look at him.

“That couldn’t be further from the truth,” he said to her.

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat as they looked at each other and he pulled her slightly closer.

“You have no idea how much I want you,” he continued, his voice lowered, conscious of the fact of where they were, but needing to tell her nonetheless. “And if anything I did made you question that or start putting yourself down, then I need to know how to convince you that you’re perfect, because I know how you talk down to yourself.”

Y/N blushed and shook her head, unsure how to respond. Absentmindedly, she began moving her hand around in his, their fingers playing together as she looked down.

“I’m not perfect,” she said quietly. “Not even close.”

Emmett pulled her even closer, bringing her between his legs before tugging his hand out of hers and instead lifting it to her face. As he cupped her cheek, he could feel the heat from her blush as he looked into her eyes.

“A woman who’s completely selfless, warm, loving to a fault, and sexy?” he raised his eyebrows and paused for emphasis. “I think that’s the definition of perfect.”

Y/N’s heart was pounding so hard that she guessed the thumping of her chest was visible under her scrub top. Emmett then gave her a small smile as he quickly looked down at her lips, and then back up to her eyes again.

“The added fact that you’re a sassy little piece of work just means there’s never a dull moment,” he finished.

Y/N’s face flushed an even deeper shade of red as she remembered how he’d called her sassy as he’d been between her legs in her kitchen the other night. She could tell from the look in his eyes that he was remembering the same moment, but before she could let herself get any more embarrassed, Emmett pulled her the rest of the way to him and gently placed his lips on hers.

Y/N’s eyes fluttered closed as he kissed her, and when he slipped his other arm around her waist, she lifted a hand and braced it on his chest. Kissing him, his arm around her, felt like finally arriving somewhere she was meant to be, and she didn’t want it to end. When Emmett eventually pulled back, he smiled again as she opened her eyes.

“I know you hate having me as a neighbor, my hands are never clean enough, and you’re a better parent to my own kids than I am, but is there any chance you’d consider canceling that blind date?” he said to her.

But Y/N suddenly frowned and looked at him in disbelief.

“What are you talking about?” she asked him incredulously. “You are an amazing father.”

Emmett just scoffed and shook his head.

“You are,” Y/N said. “Emmett, the fact that you have raised them on your own for this long, and they have turned into such wonderful kids, is just proof of how amazing of a father you are. I know firsthand how hard you work, and how much you’re there for them. If you think you’re not doing a great job, then maybe I should send you down the hall to have an MRI, because clearly, there’s something wrong in your head.”

At that, Emmett breathed out a laugh and pulled her closer again.

“How can you put yourself down so much but then say something like that about me?” he asked her.

“Because it’s true,” she replied as she looked at him. “You’re teaching them to be just as hardworking, kind, and good as you are. I’ve seen it. And if you weren’t so great, they wouldn’t be, either. But they are.”

Emmett squeezed her waist as he looked at her.

“You realize the impact you’ve had on them?” he said. “They adore you.”

The love was obvious in Y/N’s eyes.

“I’m sorry if I’ve ever overstepped,” she said gently. “But I just can’t help but want to take care of them.”

Emmett didn’t know how it was possible for someone to be so incredible, but he did know that he would do whatever he could to try and show her how amazing she was.

“What about you?” he said. “If you ask me, it’s about time someone took care of you.” When she opened her mouth to protest, Emmett continued before she could say anything.

“And don’t you dare say you’re not important,” he said.

Y/N pursed her lips, as that was exactly what she was about to say.

“We’re gonna have to fix that,” Emmett finished, referring to the way she belittled herself.

He then pulled her closer once more and kissed her again, and as Y/N leaned into him, his hands rested on her hips. After a moment, he pulled away just enough for their lips to part, and he spoke again.

“Come over tonight,” he said, his voice quiet but heavy. “No expectations – I just want to be around you.”

Y/N’s heart was pounding again.

“What about the boys?” she said, her voice a little breathy.

“I’ll ask Stacy to keep ‘em tonight...or for the next month.”

Y/N giggled, and then she looked down at Emmett’s arm and ran her finger over the small scratch he had.

“I don’t know if you’re in any kind of shape for visitors,” she said teasingly. “You’ve been through quite the trauma here.”

“If it’s as bad as you say, then I definitely shouldn’t be alone,” he replied, playing along. “Do you make house calls?”

“Not usually,” Y/N said. She reached over to the counter and picked up a discharge sheet, gently shoving it into his chest and then pulling away from him. As she drew back the privacy curtain and stepped back into the hallway, she spoke once more, giving him a coy little smile before she turned away.

“But I’m willing to make an exception,” she said.

Part 11

@nyxxie-pooh @febris-amatoria @natalie--rushman @xsweetcatastrophe @hannibellector

@beastofburdenxo @aphroditeslover11 @alltoowellbeneaththemangotree @garrison-girl-08 @meister95

@fuseburner @devotedlyshadowytheorist @neonpurplestars89-blog

#emmett x female reader #emmet a quiet place x reader #emmett a quiet place 2 #emmett a quiet place #emmett fic #emmett smut #18+ only #cillian murphy #cillian x fem!reader #cillian fic #cillian murphy smut #cillian smut #18+ content

[bobgasm]

bleeding love | b.f

pairing: robert “bob” floyd x f!reader word count: 2050 warnings: smut, nsfw [18+ only], period sex, menstrual sex, reader has their period, vaginal fingering, p in v, fluff, they’re a mess

summary: in which bob loves you no matter the day of month

author’s note: i hope u guys are filthy other wise this gonna be awkward

oneshot | masterlist

You held the heat pad to your stomach, lying down on the couch while you watched shitty movies and picked all the chocolate out of the pack of trail mix.

Bob had been gone for a week and was due back tomorrow, and of course your period had started two days ago. You’d had the usual cramping leading up to actually getting it, and then the cravings had hit you. So you’d stocked up on a few of your favourite treats, loaded up on painkillers, and toughed out the rest of the work week.

Until the weekend came around and you could slob around the place without a care.

You’d cried yourself to sleep. The painkillers weren’t helping the cramps, and you missed your boyfriend. Your heart ached, the waterworks had started, and they didn’t stop until you were fast asleep. Wearing one of Bob’s tees and hugging his pillow, trying to pretend it was him.

Waking on Sunday morning, your mood was slightly better. Mostly because you knew that Bob would be home just after midday, which meant you could finally cuddle and kiss him instead of his pillow.

The heat pad helped ease some of your discomfort, but not by much. The cramps were the worst part of getting your period, and you’d often be doubled over in the fetal position just for any kind of reprieve from the pain.

Today was one of those days. The painkillers were barely touching the sides, and it was too much admin to try and heat the pad again. So you were curled up in a ball on the couch, unable to even reach for the tv remote to change the channel. Tears burning your eyes and leaving a hot trail down your face. Nose stuffy from the hours spent crying.

You were in pain. You missed Bob. You just wanted to be coddled through the pain. Hell, you wanted the pain to end.

He’d never seen you like this. Your relationship was new, less than three months. The first time you got your period with him, he’d run out to get you supplies. Pads, tampons, painkillers and whatever else he thought would help. He’d come back with two bags worth of goodies because he didn’t want you to be without anything, but also wanted to make sure you were okay.

You’d cried over his generosity, and he’d been a little freaked out by the reaction. Telling you he’d return everything, because apparently that’s what he took your tears to mean.

You’d explained that it was so sweet he’d done all that for you, and that’s why you were crying. But he’d cocked his head and looked at you funny, proclaiming, “do guys not do that for their women when they’re menstruating?”

You’d had to explain that for a lot of men, the concept of a period freaked them the fuck out. Some of your ex boyfriends would avoid you for that entire week, since it meant you could have sex with them.

To which he’d replied, “sure you can. It might get a little messy, but that’s half the fun. Lay a couple towels down and you’re good to go.”

His blasé reaction hadn’t shocked you, not really. But it had stirred a fire burning low in your stomach. Hidden by the painful cramps, but it was there. Lingering. Waiting for him to bring it up again, or even act on it.

You always felt ten times hornier on your period, or whenever you were ovulating. In the past, you’d take care of your needs yourself whenever you were bleeding, since your exes were lesser men and refused to even talk to you during that time. So hearing that your new boyfriend, the one you were falling madly in love with, wasn’t completely grossed out by you during that week every month, caused desire to flow through your body tenfold. The only thing that could satiate it was Bob, and you had no idea how to ask him.

When he came home and found you curled up on the couch, barely able to move, he’d reheated your heating pad and handed you some more painkillers before taking a second to kiss you. Check in on you.

“How you holding up, bug?”

He’d pulled you into his lap and held you as you sobbed, softly rocking you back and forth while his hands rubbed your back or smoothed your hair. Pressing soft kisses to your forehead or readjusting your heat pad when it slipped.

“I missed you so much,” you choked out.

“I missed you too, bug,” he replied softly. “I’m sorry you’re in so much pain. I tried to get back a couple days ago but it just wasn’t in our favour.”

“You did?”

He hummed. “I know you can’t move sometimes when the pain is too much, so you fall behind on taking painkillers or fixing your heat pad. It was killing me knowing you’d probably be curled in a ball crying because it was too much.”

You sobbed harder. Held onto him a little tighter. He was so sweet, and you were so fucking in love with him.

“Hey, I’m here now. Hopefully those painkillers will kick in soon, hm? Then I can get a proper ‘welcome home.’”

“I feel so gross and unsexy right now,” you told him.

“You’re the most sexy, beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on,” he confessed. “I want you all the goddamn time. I’ve told you that before. I want you, now. Like this.”

“I’m on my period, Bobby.”

“I don’t care. I take care of my women, no matter what day of the month it is.”

His mouth was on yours. Hot and hard and dominating. An urgency to his actions. Like this conversation had turned him on. And when you turned to straddle his lap, you felt just how much he was turned on.

Moaning as you tugged his hair, only pausing to take his glasses off before his mouth was on yours again. Tasting and sucking. Claiming.

You were his, and he wasn’t going to let you forget it.

You moved to the bedroom to get a little more comfortable. He laid some towels down on the bed, and you slipped into the bathroom to remove your tampon. Arousal heavy in your stomach as your feet carried you back into the room.

He was quick to strip you naked and lay you down on the bed, mouth sucking and teeth nipping at your neck, collarbones, breasts and hips.

His fingers teased your slick folds as his mouth wrapped around your breast. Your back arching as two fingers delved into your heat, thumb rolling over your swollen clit.

His fingers hooked and brushed over your g-spot, and then his mouth was claiming yours again. Fingers working you up until your orgasm crashed over you and he swallowed your moan.

Your body alight with love and lust. Watching him with hooded eyes as he stripped and rolled a condom down his length. A proud look in his eye whenever he caught sight of you.

Spread out and leaking a mix of arousal and blood.

“So fucking sexy,” he rasped out, groaning as he crawled onto the bed. Resting his weight on top of you, pressing kisses along your jaw. “I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.”

You gasped as you felt the tip of his cock nudge against your clit, his lips molded with yours as he gripped his cock and entered you.

“Fuck, Bob,” you moaned.

He chuckled lowly as he lifted your legs and prompted you to wrap them around his waist.

He was in no rush, but your body felt alive. Moaning and gasping as he slowly rocked into you, hands buried in his hair while his forehead rested against yours. Lips barely touching, but when they did it was a short, sweet kiss. He wanted to look into your eyes and enjoy every second of this, because it would be a regular thing if you enjoyed it.

“You feel so fucking good, bug,” he whispered breathily, not wanting to speak any louder for fear it might disrupt the mood. The soft, peaceful love making that was happening that was driving you both fucking wild. “I missed you so much.”

“Missed you too, Bobby.”

He loved when you called him by his first name in bed. Especially when the sex was soft and unhurried. “Making love” in the traditional definition wasn’t something you two did often, not in the slow, feel-all-the-emotions sense of the term. No. Every time you had sex you considered it love making, but this was different. More intimate.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, Bobby.”

“Cum on my cock, bug. Wanna feel your pussy squeezing my cock,” he goaded. He always knew the right things to say to get you there.

“Harder, please. Fuck me harder,” you pleaded, hands sliding down his back and nails digging into his shoulders.

He rocked his hips a little harder. Thrusts feeling deeper. Your high building and building and building until it crashed down all over him. Heels dug into his ass as he continued to fuck you through your orgasm, kissing you hard. Biting your bottom lip. Sucking your tongue into his mouth.

“Cum again for me, bug. I know you can. ‘m gonna cum,” he mumbled breathlessly.

You gasped as his thrusts grew a little more frantic. A little more desperate as he sought his own high. Grunting as he dropped his head into your neck. Your body tightened around him. Squeezing him. Your breathy moans hot against his ear. Nails digging into the flesh of his back, providing a little pain that you knew would get him there faster.

“BobBobBob.”

You chanted his name in time to his thrusts. And then you came undone, back arching and legs tightening around his waist. Squeezing him oh so deliciously until he pinned you beneath his weight and his cum spilled into the condom.

“Oh fuck, fuck yes, fucking hell,” he said, barely able to articulate his thoughts.

“That wa–,”

“I’m in love with you,” he blurted out. “I’m so fucking in love with you.”

You held your breath for as long as you could, frantically blinking back tears. Trying to exhale, albeit shakily, and then he was looking at you and the first tear fell.

“Shit, fuck, I’m sorry,” he apologised. “It’s too soon. Of course it’s too soon, I just…well, I am. And I couldn’t not tell you. Fuck, don’t cry, bug. I can take it back.”

You laughed through the tears and cupped his face. Legs still wrapped around his waist so he wasn’t going anywhere.

“Don’t take it back,” you begged softly. “I’m just so fucking emotional right now.”

“You’re not mad?”

“No, baby. Not at all. I’m in love with you too, Bob.”

“Don’t fucking scare me like that,” he chastised. “I’m balls deep inside you professing my love for you and you start crying. What was I supposed to think?”

“Don’t yell at me.” You sobbed.

“Hey, bug, I’m sorry,” he said softly. “Fuck, we’re a mess, aren’t we?”

“I told you I was on my period.”

“Fuck, I didn’t mean it like that,” he said. “I’m sorry, bug. I’m useless at this, okay? I just want to make you happy.”

“I am happy, that’s why I started crying,” you sniffled, wiping at your tears. “Can we just…go have a shower and build a fort to cuddle in and watch movies?”

He smiled softly at you and gave you a sweet kiss. “Of course we can, bug. Why don’t you get started without me and I’ll clean up here before I join you, hm? I’ll let you wash my hair.”

You beamed at him before kissing him again, tongue licking into his mouth. He kissed you back, enjoying the moment a little longer before you unwrapped your legs and let him slip out of you. He scooped you into his arms, making you laugh as he carried you to the bathroom and set you down in the shower.

“What was that for?”

“Because I love you,” he said simply. “Don’t cry, please don’t cry.” He cupped your face tenderly, thumb brushing against your cheek as you smiled at him.

#robert bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd #bob floyd smut #bob floyd x you #bob floyd fanfiction #bob floyd fanfic #*bleeding love

[bumblesimagines]

“shit, i wasn’t supposed to enjoy that as much as i did.”

“that was better than i thought it would be.”

- Hope Mikaelson

“shit, i wasn’t supposed to enjoy that as much as i did.”

“that was better than i thought it would be.”

pronouns: he/him, male

To be honest, you weren't completely sure who had been the one to convince you to join the godforsaken musical. Between Josie's puppy eyes, Landon's pleading, and Kaleb's constant boasting of his role as Damon Salvatore, your memory had become fuzzy as to who exactly you finally agreed to. But there you were, script in hand and other students getting your sizes to fit you into the role of Stefan Salvatore.

"You look like you're having the time of your life." You glanced over your shoulder at the redhead, only heaving a sigh to her sarcasm. The ends of her pink-tinted lips twitched upward and she folded her arms over her chest as she ran her eyes over the leather jacket you sported.

"I don't want to hear a word about it."

Tossing her hands in the air, she giggled under her breath. "You got it, boss. I'll keep my mouth shut about this whole... bad boy vibe thing you've got going on."

"Why don't you make yourself useful and help me with these lines? I need to memorize them by tomorrow night or I fear Landon will smother me in my sleep." You offered the script to her and she took it, skimming the page and shrugging casually.

Hope proved to be a rather shitty helper with her monotone reading and her quips about the dialogue and songs. She refused to sing anything, not even amusing you with just a few words, but she continued the task of reading the lines of the other characters until she abruptly stopped.

"You, uh..." Her brows twitched downward. "You're going to kiss Josie?"

"Yeah, she plays Elena Gilbert. Elena's whole thing is having a love triangle between Stefan and Damon, so we obviously have to kiss at some point." You shrugged and the redhead grimaced. "We don't have to kiss, you know. Just read what's next."

"That's not-" Hope cut herself off and cleared her throat, brushing her hair over her shoulder and pressing her lips together. "It's fine, I.. I don't mind." She admitted quietly.

"Oh.. Uhm, okay." The thought of kissing Hope had never crossed your mind before. She'd always seemed untouchable, even after a friendship blossomed between you and her. But there she stood, looking oddly nervous and hesitant.

"We really don't have to, Hope. It's just a kiss. I doubt it'll be anything other than a-" Hope stepped foward, one hand cupping the back of your head while the other one tightly clutched the script. She kissed you, full of shyness and meekness not common to the almost-tribrid. It took you a moment to process Hope Mikaelson of all people was kissing you before you reacted, hands coming to a rest on her waist. She pulled back a few seconds later, face flushed and eyes downcast.

“That was better than I thought it would be.” You murmured half-teasingly half-dazed and Hope released a soft grunt, rolling her eyes at your words.

"(Y/N)! Could you come here? I need to talk to you about a line." Landon called from his spot beside Josie, barely glancing up at you and his ex. You nodded toward Landon and Hope forced a smile, watching you part away from her to approach her two friends. The smile dropped and she lifted a hand to her forehead, touching her warm skin.

Breathlessly, she murmured, “Shit, I wasn’t supposed to enjoy that as much as I did.”

#x reader #x you #x y/n #x male reader #legacies #legacies x male reader #legacies x reader #legacies hope #hope mikaelson #hope mikaelson x reader #hope mikaelson x male reader #hope mikaelson x you #hope mikaelson x y/n #landon kirby #josie saltzman

[imrllytootiredforthis]

Weekend Plans?

Pairing: felix x reader

Summary: Felix surprises you by coming back from a trip early and picking you up from work.

Warning(s): fem reader, dom reader, sub felix, handjob, mommy kink, edging, slight praise kink, hair pulling, exhibitionism, slightly possessive felix, crossdressing (felix wears panties), marking, pet names, slight degradation (reader calls felix a slut), think thats it but there may be more

Word Count: 1.6k

Pt.2 here

A/N: My first fic, ignore my bad grammar and possible spelling mistakes plz :), 18+ so minors please dni

“So what’re your plans for the weekend?” Roy, your coworker asked. 

You rolled your eyes, somehow managing to keep yourself from sighing at the stupidity of the man standing beside your desk. 

You knew already how the conversation would play out; you’d tell him you were busy, he’d ignore that and ask you out to get dinner or on a coffee date. You’d refuse and tell him that the relationship between the two of you was strictly professional-then he would laugh like it was a joke, leave and ask you out again the next time he saw you.

It was exhausting.

You’d done everything to get him to stop. From insulting him to trying to scare him off with threats to reporting him to your boss, but to no avail. 

He was nothing if not persistent. And the boss being his father made it no easier.

“Even if I was free-which I’m actually not this time, I’d still remind you,” you turned to him, making eye contact that he was all too eager to return. “that we are colleagues. Nothing more, nothing less.”

He pouted, “C’mon, you know you want me. Let’s go out to that new restaurant down the street...or we could even just head to my place and skip to dessert.” He winked and you resisted the urge to vomit all over his lavishly expensive dress shoes that he probably bought with daddy’s money.

“Listen Yun,” you said, choosing to not refer to him as Roy as he’d told you many times to, “if you don’t stop I’m going to have to...” 

You trailed off as you felt arms wrap around your waist and a face nuzzle into your neck. 

You knew who it was the second that you felt the touch, but the small, “Mommy...” whined in your ear and subtle grind into your ass confirmed what you already knew. 

Letting out an uncharacteristic squeal, filthy ideas of what you could use as punishment for the obvious hard-on rubbing against you through his pants. 

Turning around in his arms, you threw your own around your boyfriend whom you haven’t in weeks. “Lixie!”

He smiled, you hadn’t realized how much you missed it.

Leaning to brush your lips over his ear, as one hand slid down to grip his clothed dick, making his hips buck forward before removing quickly it, not wanting Roy to notice. You whispered, “you needy, kitten?”

He almost whimpered at the words as you began to pepper his face in kisses, not caring that fucking Roy was watching your public display of affection; maybe this would even be the thing to make him back off.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to be back until tomorrow!” You said as soon as you were done attacking him. A smile was stretched across his face-the same as yours-and a dark blush dusted across his freckled cheeks.

Sheepishly, he chuckled in the deep voice you loved oh so much, “I just wanted to surprise you.” A roll of his hips into your groin gave the way he said it a teasing lilt.

“Best. Surprise. Ever.” You punctuated each word with a kiss to a freckle, one hand cupping his face, brushing your thumb over his jawline while the other lightly tugged on his blonde locks, he bit his lip to contain the moans threatening to escape.

A throat was cleared behind you and your attention turned back to Roy who stood there with a masked annoyed expression across his face. “Who are you?” He directed the question toward your boyfriend.

Despite the obvious hostility in the question, Felix stayed civil-well as civil as he could while having a concealed erection hidden under his long hoodie. 

He attempted to put on a polite smile and unwrapped himself from around you. “Sorry for interrupting your conversation, I’m Lee Felix, (Y/N’s) boyfriend. And you are?” He held his hand out as if to shake Roy’s.

“I’m Yun Roy, her coworker.” He was only getting that now? You scoffed almost inaudibly, watching as they shook hands.

Not wanting to have any small talk and having ideas of much better things you could be doing now that Felix was here you quickly gathered all of your belongings.

Smiling as you grabbed Felix’s hand, beginning to drag him out of the office, you shouted back to your pissed colleague, “tell Mr. Yun that that I had a family emergency and needed to get home!”

You pulled Felix into the elevator, pressing the close button to make sure no one else would join you inside then pressing the button to the lowest floor, being on the highest floor you knew it would take awhile.

As soon as the doors shut you shoved Felix against the wall, your hand returning to palm his hard dick over his pants.

He let out a loud whimper, as you slammed your lips against his, sucking on his tongue the way he liked it before pulling back, teeth pulling on his bottom lip as you did.

desperately, he chased your lips. You let out a low laugh at his apparent eagerness. 

Despite the fact that all you’d done was kiss and squeeze his dick a little, he already looked so fucked-out, panting with his tongue lolling out of his mouth, spit glistening messily on his lips from your kiss.

He shoved his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent. “Please Mommy...m’so needy for you.” His deep voice, low and raspy from arousal did wonders as you felt yourself clench around nothing.

Your other hand came to grip his hair, pulling his head back to look at you. He moaned at that, his pupils blown wide with lust. “Why should I give you anything, kitten? You were being a bad boy back there. Grinding your cock against me in front of my coworkers like a bitch in heat.”

His hips rutted against your hand at your words, a breathless whine leaving his lips. “No, mommy. Lixie’s sorry, Lixie’s a good boy.”

You almost laughed at his desperation to be praised. “Is Lixie a good boy or did my baby want me to bend him over my desk and show everyone how much of a little slut my kitten is?”

The blonde let out a gasp turning into a choked moan at the filthy thought. “Yes, yes.” He whispered. “Wanted him to know that I’m-” his breathing stuttered, “tha-that I’m y-your little slut~. That I b-belong to you.”

You growled at his words and pulled his head back, exposing his throat as you began to suck dark bruises onto him. “Aww baby, you jealous of Roy? You worried that I’ll put him in his place like I do to you?”

He gripped your hips tightly-possessively, and pulled you back to look him in the eye, a different kind of desperation in there now. “I’m your baby. Not him. Not anyone else. Me. Only me.” 

You only smiled at his words, heart melting. “Only you baby, don’t want anyone else.” Meanwhile you slipped the hand palming him up his hoodie and under the waistband of his sweats, “only you my good boy.” He shivered at the words and then you felt it and paused.

“You wearing panties baby?” You whispered to him, a grin growing across your face as you could feel yourself getting wetter.

Felix bit his lip and smiled, avoiding your eyes. “Jus’ wanted to look pretty for Mommy. Haven’t seen her in so long.”

You moaned and pulled his lips to yours, playing with the lacy lingerie, his cock practically spilling out of the too small garment.

“Such a pretty boy, Lixie~” You praised breathlessly through kisses, pulling them just low enough for his cock to spring out before swiping your thumb over his tip. He threw his head back, a load, unrestricted moan reverberating deep in his throat.

“I’m c-close. P-please, close, close.” He gasped.

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, he normally could hold back from cumming for a long time, courtesy of your training. “You sensitive baby? Did you touch yourself while you were away?”

“N-no!” He sobbed, a single tear running down his freckled cheek from pleasure. “W-waited for you-! Didn’t touch m-myself o-or cu-cum o-once!” He whimpered struggling to get the words out between moans and whines. The feeling of that familiar knot tightening deep inside him.

“Good boy for me, Lixie~” The words were almost enough to push him over the edge-

Then you pulled away. 

He sobbed at the loss of simulation, his high so close but the loss of you leaving him right on the edge, even needier then before and unfinished. 

His unfocused mind tried to wrap around what just happened as he attempted to catch his breath.

You fixed his hair and clothes, soothing the bite marks and hickies you left on his neck, flipping the hood of his sweater up to cover them. 

Not a second later that you were presentable the elevator doors dinged and opened on the ground floor.

Lacing your fingers with Felix’s, you lead him out of the elevator, nodding towards the people waiting get in. 

Felix whined about his unfinished pleasure as you two made your way out of the lobby, past the receptionist’s desk. Thankfully no one being within earshot to hear his pathetic pleas.

When the two o you were finally outside you suddenly stopped, cutting him off mid-sentence and turned to him. Your lips went to his ear causing goosebumps to rise on his neck.

“If you don’t stop whining, I won’t touch you for a week.” You whispered threateningly. “If you do stop, well, we both know what I’ll be doing this weekend.”

Briskly pulling away and turning, you began the 3 block walk to your shared apartment. 

After a few moments you heard Felix’s quick footsteps eager to catch up behind you.

A/N: Hope it wasn’t too bad for my first fic, have a good day <3

#lee felix x reader #sub!lee felix #lee felix smut #felix x reader #sub felix #sub!felix #sub!stray kids #sub skz #sub!idol #skz felix #fem!reader #dom reader #dom!reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut

[praisethesuuun]

May i ask for a Shiva NSFW alphabet ?👀

I tried my best, I swear! As always, english isn't my first language, so I'm sorry for any mistakes

SHIVA: NSFW ALPHABET

A: aftercare <what they're like after sex>

Shiva isn't really the best at aftercare. He falls asleep pretty quickly, so his wives are usually the ones that take care of you. They'll wash you up, give you water and then you'll all curl up against your husband.

B: body part <their favourite body part on them and you>

I think we all know what's coming...he literally has FOUR ARMS. How can he not like them? He can finger you while spanking your ass, and meanwhile he will hold you close to him whispering sweet nothings in your ear all night long. Shiva loves your tiddies, they're so soft! Sometimes he falls asleep between them.

C: cum <anything to do with it, really>

Shiva likes to cum in your mouth, especially when you struggle trying to swallow everything. Also, look at him while you do it, he loves it.

D: dirty secret <a dirty secret of theirs>

He often thinks about calling Rudra over: it could be interesting to see how you would manage to survive with the two of them. Shiva is not ashamed of his friend, but if you don't feel comfortable, then they will stop.

E: experience <how experienced are they>

He's pretty much experienced, he has three wives after all (and he can keep up with all of them, at the same time).

F: favourite position <self-explanatory>

Doggy style, without doubt. In this position, Shiva can hold you by the hips, touch your ass, caress your soft skin...it's like heaven to him.

G: goofy <would they use humor in the moment?>

Oh boy, he's very goofy. He isn't serious AT ALL. He will act like a brat, teasing you like there's no tomorrow and laugh when you can't keep up with him anymore.

H: hair <how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the courtains?>

The carpet match the courtains and it's very hairy. Shiva doesn't think about shaving that much, even if Parvati reminds him to do that every now and then.

He never listen anyway.

I: intimacy <are they romantic in the moment or they do not care?>

Shiva's very romantic, you will remember every night you spend with him. He will worship your body, call you beautiful, while his eyes shine under the moonlight.

J: jack off <...self-explanatory part 2>

Oh yeah, he does. Let me explain: when you are busy, he knows better than bother you. Shiva will complain for a bit before giving up and walking away angrily, with the intent of finding the nearest bathroom.

K: kinks <their kinks>

Please, I'm begging you, praise him constantly. Tell him how good he's making you feel, call his name when you're close, he has to hear you scream it. Oh, and don't forget to call him daddy!

L: location <where they usually do the do>

You don't necessarily do it in the bedroom. In his temple you literally fucked everywhere, plus it's not uncommon for him to get horny while you two are resting under a tree or watching a beautiful sunset.

M: motivation <what turns them on>

Watching you dance: the way your hips move in time, your tits bouncing at every step and the smile you have while feeling his eyes on you. You're gonna make him crazy.

N: no <things they refuse to do>

I feel like Shiva doesn't like degrading you. He's more the "I'm gonna worship every part of you" guy. This good boy could never insult you, it's against his moral code.

O: oral <do they like giving or receiving?>

Shiva loves giving and you can't change my mind. The sweet moans you make while he eats you out are like music for his ears, he could cum at any time just by hearing your whimpers.

P: pace <are they slow and sensual or fast and rough>

It depends on the day and on his mood. When he's stressed by the requests of the other gods, then you better be prepared 'cause he's gonna be ROUGH; but usually, Shiva's pretty sensual and prefers to take it nice and slow.

Q: quickie <would they fuck you for five minutes or wait until you wait home?>

Of course, he loves quickies, especially when he takes you to a boring meeting and wants to spice up the mood a little.

R: risk <...DUH>

Shiva doesn't have problems with taking them, he's always open to try out new things. But don't peg him, it's the only thing he feels unsure about.

S: stamina <how long can they last?>

He has TOO MUCH energy. Shiva will stop only when he sees you can barely stay awake. You passed out from pleasure a couple of times, but he always stayed beside you, making sure it wasn't something serious.

T: toys <do they own any? do they use them?>

You two only own them because the other gods (aka Rudra, and Indra, sometimes) find it funny to prank you by giving them to you as a birthday present.

U: unfair <how much they like to tease>

A lot, Shiva lives to tease you. He won't stop even for a second, refusing to give you his cock or stopping his movements when you're about to cum.

V: volume <are they asking for a noise complaint, or are they quiet?>

He has no shame, he isn't quiet at all. Dirty talk is a must: when you two are screwing around, you always need to tell him to lower his voice.

W: wild card <a random headcanon☆>

At first, he was really nervous about having sex with you. He didn't know if you felt at ease with his wives in the same bad; in the end, you were enjoying their company more than his-

X: x-ray <what to they look like under there?>

Shiva's dick is slightly bigger than the average and it's very hairy down there. The tip is #b284c4.

Y: yearning <are they in the mood to fuck or are they tame?>

He's very horny. A lot. That's it.

Z: zzz <how quickly they fall asleep afterwards>

Shiva falls asleep so fast that, the first time you had sex, you didn't even know what to do. He tries to stay awake, but he just can't... please, forgive him.

#request rules #request #record of ragnarok headcanons #record of ragnarok smut #record of ragnarok #record of ragnarok x reader #shuumatsu no valkyrie x reader #shuumatsu no valkyrie headcanons #shuumatsu no valkyrie #ror x reader #ror x you #snv x reader #snv x you #snv x y/n #record of ragnarok shiva #ror smut #ror shiva #snv smut #snv shiva

[iamasaddie]

to hold you tonight

paring: Marcus Pike x f!afab!Reader

rating: explicit (18+ minors DNI)

word count: 1,9k~

summary: Marcus truly was your biggest fan. And now he wanted to become your only fan.

a/n: dead dove do not eat; i don't know what it is and why it is here. i'm drunk. this is unbetaed and unedited. do with it whatever. i will reread tomorrow and see if i like it at all lol.

warnings: NONCON turned something else; explicit sexual content, praise, obsessive behaviour, drugging, oral [f receiving], unsafe PinV, NO USE OF Y/N

MY MASTERLIST

ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴀ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴏꜰ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ. ɪ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏɴᴅᴏɴᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱɪᴛᴜᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴅᴇꜱᴄʀɪʙᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ɪʀʟ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ, ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ꜰᴏʀɢᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ɪꜱ ᴀ ᴡᴀʏ ᴏꜰ ʜᴇᴀʟɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘʀᴏᴄᴇꜱꜱɪɴɢ ᴛʀᴀᴜᴍᴀ ꜰᴏʀ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴɴᴏᴛ ᴅɪᴄᴛᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴘᴏʟɪᴄᴇ ʜᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴅᴏ ɪᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴛʏᴘᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴄʜᴏᴏꜱᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏɴꜱᴜᴍᴇ. ꜱᴛᴀʏ ꜱᴀꜰᴇ, ᴘʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴄᴇ ᴄᴏɴꜱᴇɴꜱᴜᴀʟ ꜱᴇx ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴘʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴏᴠᴇ.

"Oh, baby, look at this wet spot. Your panties are soaked already, and you’ve been awake for less than five minutes."

The man’s voice was calm and quiet, and strong. You couldn’t move your hands or legs, when you tried to at least move your he’d you realized that your eyes were the only thing that moved. You could feel every touch, could feel the warm air from his mouth and nostrils tickling the peach fuzz of your hair. But you couldn’t move. Not a single muscle listened to you. Your brain immediately succumbed to panic, but your heart rate refused to fasten, so the only thing that gave away your hysteria were your eyes.

The man above you finally stopped examining your  almost fully naked body, his hands were laying on top of your soft breasts as his face hovered above yours and he looked deep into your eyes. "Is it just for me?" One of his large palms let go of your breast and cupped your cunt. 

Is it just for me?

Is it just for me? 

Is it just for me?

You knew that man. You’ve already heard that voice, more than once. When the pizza place where you worked as a delivery girl fired you, you picked up the first job you could find. New York was never forgiving to poor people, but it was quite generous in terms of vacancies for all kinds of jobs. You stuck with being a live statue, something that worked well with your school schedule and wasn’t as emotionally exhausting. You loved watching the city, getting laughs and screams from unassuming tourists, plus the tips were always good. 

There were hundreds of people walking past you every single day, some faces would stick with you until the end of your shift, some you’d forget even before they passed you by. But him.You remembered that face so clearly sometimes you thought you could see it in the reflection of your mirror. Tall, handsome, clean-shaven, he was a picture perfect of a dream man. Everything about him was alluring, from the way his mouth curved as he gave you the compliments on your performance, staying after the crowds were already gone; to the way he smelled when he got closer to you one day - ripe cherry and bourbon.

You were flattered at first, you had a fan, but sometimes his eyes were too intense and would make you uneasy. When you stood still for an extra couple of minutes with him as the only witness, he’d laugh, the sound colder than the autumn wind ripping through your makeup, ‘is it just for me?’ he’d ask, and you’d feel the heat threatening to melt the silver paint on your cheeks. ‘Well, you seem to be my biggest fan.’

Now, laying in front of him, your body free of makeup and clothes, you knew your instincts didn’t lie. You should’ve changed the job. Should’ve found another pizza place. Too bad it was too late now. You could only remember him coming up really close, telling him he had something for you, and then an acidic smell followed by the darkness.

He was a psychopath, that was clear. 

When he looked into your eyes, his browns were gentle, but glazed with something. Was he high? You wanted to ask, to beg, but your mouth didn’t move, only your lower lip twitched a little.

"I am sorry, sweetheart, statues don’t talk. That’s the beauty of them. That’s the beauty of you."

He pressed his plush lips to your unmoving ones, his hot wet tongue licking a stripe inside.

"They don’t deserve you," he whispered into your mouth, "they’re so fucking dumb, they don’t understand art. And you… You’re art. I’m the only one who could see your true value. My Aphrodite, you finally came to me. I was afraid I would die alone, but not anymore, not with you by my side."

Did he… Did he actually think you were a statue that came alive? You weren’t even dressed like Aphrodite, just a fucking statue. He was insane, and you were fucked. 

You felt your heart start trembling, beating faster in the cold cage of your ribs. He heard what you felt. His lips pursed, "none of that, my goddess. Statues are calm, marble is quiet."

He put his hand on your chest, right between your breasts, and pressed. Somehow your heart listened to you, ignoring the fear-induced adrenaline coursing through your body. You were cold, and the room was dark. The table - judging by how hard it was beneath your spine and how high it was for the floor you guessed it was a table - was sticking to the parts of your skin pressed into it.

"Marcus and Aphrodite," he laughed quietly, "sounds funny, but we’ll make it work. When I make you mine, when every bit of your stone cold body belongs to me, it’ll work."

He lowered his head and started pressing soft kisses from the crook of your neck down. It was undoubtedly an uncomfortable position for him, having to crouch above you, but he didn’t seem jaded by it at all. His lips were warm against your skin, and you wondered how it was possible to feel both numb and on the verge of sensory explosion. You let yourself feel, just feel accepting whatever was going to happen to you. Your mind was as still as your body when he trailed his kisses down, unknowing that he was burning your skin through.

"So beautiful," his whisper sounded like prayer as he slowly tugged your panties off. "Every bit of you was created by a true master, even your cunt. So silky," he traced a finger through your weeping slit covering his index finger in your juices. "Blessing me with your grace."

His voice changed, becoming less gentle and more hungry, hands that were gentle mere moments ago were yanking your thighs apart and you felt more exposed than you ever were. Unable to move, to speak, just a conscious body for him to bless or to break.

You cried inside when he latched his lips on your clit without mistakes, two of his fingers finding home in your slick entrance as they pushed inside. You were lava around him, your marble exterior contrasting with the softness of your insides as he parted them and moaned. "Fuck, taste so good, so… divine." His tongue played with your clit, circling around it in precise movements as his thick fingers pushed in and out of you, spreading you further. If there were any thoughts in your head before it, now everything was completely gone. Every atom of your being surrendering to pleasure, to desperate want.

Your skin was tight, both with dried up paint and the upcoming orgasm, you needed to move, needed to slide your hands into the sickness of his hair and tug him closer into you. Marcus was ravenous, growls and slurping sounds echoing in the darkness of the room. He curled his fingers upwards, sliding the tips of them against the spongy part inside of you, sending you to the gods themselves as you felt your body internally ripping to shreds, goosebumps rippling under your skin.

"Good girl," he moaned into your cunt, immediately attaching his mouth to your pulsing and leaking entrance, shoving his tongue inside. When he drank enough of you, he reappeared in front of you, his face red, lower half of it glistening.  Marcus didn’t bother wiping himself, just grabbed your face in his hands and pressed a sloppy kiss onto your lips staining them with your wetness.

His hands flew to the zipper of his slacks, and he started quietly talking, you grasped every word through the blood pumping in your ears.

"I’m going to fuck you now, my goddess, I’m going to keep you full of my cum for hours, only this way we can be together. A part of me will sustain the life in you, and you will always belong to me. Always be grateful to me."

You heard his belt buckle clinking as he pushed his pants down. Part of you wished you could see his cock, but another part thought it’d only scare you and you didn’t want that. Not anymore. Not now.

"When you finally understand that it’ll be easier. For both of us." Marcus walked around, standing at the end of the table between your legs that were bent in the knees, and you thought you could almost feel the ground with your toes. His fingers spread your shining wet lips as the head of his thick cock notched on your entrance. "I want to hear you beg for me, like I begged for you night after night," he pushed inside in one easy stroke, your arousal mixed with his making his slide intense but painless. "Wanna feel you squirm and whimper," his cock parted you, and for a short moment you did feel like you were a statue and he was reconstructing you. Hammering your granite to create a new space. Something just for him. 

"I want to kiss the tears I spilled from your eyes," his movements were slow, but forceful, every time he pushed inside a rugged breath ripped out of you. Marcus pressed his lips to your neck, where the blood was pumping violently in your carotid artery.

"I want to break your stone and mark your marble." He hissed, and you felt his teeth closing around the soft flesh of your neck as he bit and sucked on it, making his wish come true.

He placed his arms around you, bracketing your body as his thrusts became more rapid. You didn’t blink, inhaling the intoxicating smell of his sweat and insanity. You felt the swell of his tummy sliding against your skin, you desperately wanted to wrap your legs around his hips, pulling him closer, deeper inside you.

His cock was painfully girth, every vein and ridge touching more of your nerve endings than you knew existed. Marcus breathed harder, he pressed his forehead against yours and as he licked his lips the wetness of his tongue touched your lips as well. "You’re so good. I’m going to fill you - oh, fuck, - fill you with life. You will not be a statue, you’ll be alive. Alive and always - fuck - always filled with my cock, my tongue, my fingers."

Marcus punched his cock into your cervix, a droplet of sweat collecting on the tip of his hooked nose as you felt his hips shudder, hot, thick cum spilling inside you and he could barely hold himself to not fall on top of you, his cock kept pushing in and out of you by inertia.

Heat rose from the inside of your body, you felt every muscle burning, the tips of your toes and fingers twitching. Marcus pulled out of you gently, placing one hand on your pulling entrance that was now spilling his cum, and gliding another one up and down your stomach and tits. You could finally move your head a little to see him spreading a sheen of sweat on your slick body, watching the leftover paint create intricate patterns on your skin. He didn’t look troubled, his smile was pure and genuine when he looked at you once again.

"I told you we’d make it work, my Aphrodite. Now you’re free. Free to be only mine."

—————

consider leaving a comment if you liked what you read 💙

#iamasaddie fic #marcus pike #marcus pike x you #marcus pike x reader #the mentalist fic #pedro pascal fanfiction

[onsunnyside]

Here it is !! Flamingo King snippet for part 7, originally from part 6 but moved to the epilogue/bonus chapter 🦩❤️‍🔥 I’ve never loved a fic this much and am so thankful for all of your support !! I hope you all enjoy 🥰🫶

“Hey, sugar, you know you don’t gotta knock.”

“I just thought it would only be fair for tonight.” You shyly hold out a bouquet of flowers, vibrant red and yellow tulips from the best florist in the city. “These are for you. I was thinkin’ we could stop by the bakery after dinner? They brought back your favourite pie and I told them to save us a good one.”

Ari stands there for a moment, looking between you and the flowers. Then, he slaps the door, “awh shit, that was today? I thought—” he groans, “I thought it was tomorrow, Friday right?”

“Today is Friday.”

“Shit.” He curses, “The Den has been a fuckin’ zoo with all the college kids being back in town, my brain is fried and my eyes fuckin’ hurt from staring at a screen all day. Aside from bartending, Curtis has us doing all this paperwork and—” he shoulders sag, “nevermind. No need to be standing out there, come in, baby.”

The light flickers on and you can finally see him properly.

Eyeglasses are on the tip of his nose, his hair is messy and pulled out of his face with a small clip, one you recognize from your small vanity at home. His normally glowy skin is dull and tired, and dark bags make his eyes appear sunken into his face.

You’ve seen him dishevelled, but nothing this exhausted.

He’s still as pretty as ever, but just so terribly tired.

“Give me a few minutes, I’ll get ready quickly.” Then he’s off to his bedroom, abandoning his laptop and coffee table cluttered with dirty dishes, and plenty of papers.

A blanket and pillow that used to occupy his big, comfy bed are on the couch, along with a spare t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. His record player is off, no slow rock song filling his trailer like usually.

You hear several slams and bangs before peeking into his bedroom and it’s a mess, far worse than the living room. Clothes skewed over his bed, the laundry bin overflowing and more stacks of empty dishes on his nightstands, although outnumbered by takeout containers.

Ever since you met Ari, he took pride in his spotless home and kept his things organized. He was diligent with weekly cleans, and often reminded you of laundry day so you could do your chores together.

It’s been quite wild for you too from sports season and the rush of people coming in after school or work. Even Andy had to hire new staff just to keep up with the hoard of customers.

Despite being busy, you’ve still made time for each other, going out for late night ice cream, or hanging out in your trailer watching movies on the laptop that you got for a massive discount (from a particular blond cutie with a goatee). But you haven’t been over in a few days, a week at most, and you didn’t know it was this bad.

“Ari.”

“Hold on!” he calls out, digging through his dressers as clothes fall to the floor.

“Ari.”

“Where the fuck are my jeans?” He sweeps through the hangers again, squinting behind his glasses, “Why do I have so many flannels?”

You step behind him, wrapping your arms around his torso. Pressing your cheek against his bare back, you can feel his rigid muscles under his skin. Poor baby, he’s so overworked and drained, yet he was still trying to put you first.

“We don’t have to go tonight.”

“We do. You got all dolled up and bought me flowers. You were gonna wine and dine me, and you can’t do that if we’re stuck in this pigsty.”

You squeeze him tighter, refusing to let go. You know he could easily overpower you, throw you on the bed and continue getting ready. But instead, he just sinks into your touch, slumping over and bracing himself on the dresser.

“I’m so fuckin’ sorry, sugar.”

“Don’t be.”

He always took care of you. Making sure you ate during the day, stayed hydrated and out of the harsh sun. He wouldn’t eat until you took a first bite, and always put snacks and water in your bag before you went to work. Sometimes on his days off, he’d get into your trailer by using the key you gave him and tidy up, wanting you to come home and be able to relax.

Ari has done so much for you.

It takes a few more kisses, some affectionate squeezing and running your hands up and down his chest for him to turn around.

His eyebrows are knotted tight, and a deep solemn frown plays on his lips. You notice his beard is thicker too, a smidge longer than his usual trim.

“I’m so tired—I don’t know what the hell is happening.” He sags forward, slinging his arms over your shoulders and tugging you closer.

You turn your head, kissing his bicep. “Wanna talk about it?”

He shrugs. “It’s work, work and work. That’s all I fuckin’ do now. I love The Den and working with my friends, and it always gets busy this time of year but shit…” he huffs, squeezing his eyes shut. “It was fine before because I had nothin’ else to do but now I have you.” He leans down, pressing his forehead to yours, “You're my girl—how the hell can I give you the attention, time and love that you deserve if I can’t even remember what day it is?”

Your heart aches as you stare into his disappointed blue eyes. Framed by thick lashes, they blink so slowly and sleepily.

“I don’t—I refuse to lose you because of something stupid like this.”

“You’re not going to lose me over one missed date.” You promise, meaning every word.

He chuckles dryly and turns back around to search through the closet again. “It starts like that. Then it’s another and another, and soon we aren’t even seeing each other for days at a time and resort to texts and five minute calls.” He rambles, “And then we’re just two strangers who had something great and you’re gonna get swept off your feet by some douchebag who can’t even remember your favourite colour. While you’re off with him in a big and bright city, I’m gonna be an old man still at The Den, talking about how I lost the girl of my dreams to drunk guys who have a million better things to do—”

“—would you be quiet!”

He looks over his shoulder with wide eyes.

“We aren’t going, so put down those jeans and sit on your bed.” You cross your arms.

Ari doesn’t move, his long fingers still clutching the denim. “Uh—”

“Shush.” You snatch the jeans from his hands and toss it on the dresser, and point to the unmade bed. “Go. Now.”

“Yes ma’am.” He mutters under his breath, cautiously walking around you to his bedroom. With a heavy breath, he plops on the mattress, leaning back with his legs spread wide.

His thin shorts ride up his thick thighs, displaying the built muscle and coarse hair. Quickly glancing over his shameless bulge, you admire his cute tummy and the chain dangling between his pecs.

You step towards him, cupping his bearded face in your hands and squishing his cheeks, making his lips pucker. “You have to take a break or else you’re gonna burn out.”

His eyes close peacefully, your touch silencing all of those pesky worries and looming fears. He was normally very reflective about his thoughts, and kept those stupid, useless, noisy ones to himself.

One of your hands moves to his hair, taking out the clip and running your fingers through the dark strands. “You always take care of me. You’re always so sweet and attentive, the best daddy I could’ve ever asked for.” You say softly and lean down, gently pulling his head back to kiss his cheek, trailing closer to his pink, plump lips. “Now I wanna take care of you.”

A low groan rumbles from his chest, “yeah, baby? You gonna take care of daddy tonight?”

“Mhm.” You hum with a chaste kiss. “Work out all those knots in your back, clear your head…” Your hands fall to his shoulders, tenderly pressing into the tense muscles. “Tonight is all about you, daddy. You deserve it.”

It’s about time we get back to the hot and steamy Flamingo Trailer Park !! The posting date would be earlier but your girl has exams 🥸 I hope you’re all as excited as me 🤩 pls feel free to share your thoughts !!

#sonny drabbles #fk drabble #sneak peek time #flamingo king au #Ari Levinson #Ari Levinson x reader #ari levinson x short!reader #ari levinson x fem!reader #Ari Levinson x you #Ari Levinson fluff #ari levinson fanfiction #ari levinson fanfic #ari levinson x female reader #trailer park ​Ari Levinson #trailer park!ari #trailer park au #Ari Levinson au #Chris evans #Chris evans characters #Chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fanfic #red sea diving resort #fk: fluff

[sourholland]

ooh! can you do a bestfriends to lovers blurb with tom!! maybe an angry confession or jealousy (anything really, upto you!)

a little more angsty than i imagined but enjoy

feel free to leave a blurb request!

“Why are you so upset,” you breathed, staring at Tom with burning eyes and chapped lips.

He was walking you home from a party in Greenwich, snow crunching underneath your sneakers. He, unlike yourself, was not a New York City native and had no idea where you were half-drunk leading him. Tom was a gentleman, though—when you told him you were only a ten minute walk and wished for air, he refused to let you leave alone.

When you left the party, he had looked rather upset with you and helped you out the door chastely and without a word. He never complained that you hadn’t taken an Uber. The tip of your nose had gone numb and raw with the cold, every few seconds Tom would glance at you as you wiped at it with your sleeve until it grew irritated.

“I’m not upset, who said I was upset?” He shrugged, looking down at his feet.

“You’re acting pissed off,” you tried to brush your arm with his, cheeks aching and flushed with a buzz. “You barely talked to me all night. You just got here yesterday and you told me all week that all you wanted to do on your visit was see me.”

Your voice cracked a bit, he only continued to look at his feet and kick at a few stones on the sidewalk. His nose was running slightly, hair askew and eyes tired from what you could only assume was jet lag. You put a hand on his shoulder but he shrugged you off, shaking his head again.

“Okay, what the fuck?” You finally said, voice raising slightly. “You don’t talk to me all night, now you won’t let me touch you? What’s your problem?”

He stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, finally looking at you with narrowed eyes. His expression read frustration and disdain, sucking his teeth and inhaling deeply.

“You’re selfish, Y/N. That’s my fucking problem,” he finally spoke.

“What?” You say, tone sharp with confrontation and sarcasm. “How am I selfish? Tell me, please. Enlighten me, Tom.”

“I put work on hold to come here. I begged my team on this next project of mine to postpone meetings and scheduled events. I practically fucking moved my entire next month around to fly to another continent to see you.”

“Tom—“

“No. Let me finish,” he bit back. “I planned my entire visit around you! When I get back to London, I am going to be running myself into the fucking ground to get caught up with things. Then—as if you see this as some big cosmic joke—I get here and you don’t even want to go out alone with me. So I go to your party like you wanted and you somehow end up fucked up enough that you’re in some other guy’s lap before midnight.”

Silence. There was complete and utter silence while you both stood and looked at one another on the desolate and deserted New York City sidewalk. His lips were dry and his nose pink from the cold. He watched you hiccup, still slightly drunk but sobering with his harsh words.

“Selfish,” you finally murmured. “Perhaps you are no so out of line for calling me selfish.”

“No,” he said, shortly. “Perhaps not.”

“Did I ruin everything?” You whispered, wringing your fingers and trying to read him.

Tom stared at you for a long while, he pressed his heel into the snow and finally shook his head slowly. His lips were pressed into a line, his eyes sad, but he gave you a look that said you might still have a chance to reconcile after all. That your selfishness was not so irredeemable.

“I’m not—I’m not good at these things,” you say, breaking the silence once again. “I’m selfish and abrasive and probably have some kind of commitment issues, I don’t know. I’m drunk so just tell me to shut up, but I don’t want to ruin this, whatever it is.”

“Okay,” he finally said.

“Okay?”

Tom held out a hand that said ‘talk tomorrow’, without words. You nodded and took his cold fingers in your own to walk the rest of the way to your apartment.

#tom holland x y/n #tom holland blurb #tom holland x reader #tom holland blurbs #tom holland imagine #tom holland imagines #tom holland #tom holland au

[rain-ghoul-appreciator]

I would wish it all away, if i thought tomorrow, they'd take you away

kinda nervous but first little ficlet thing on good old tumblr dot com

just 744 words of swiss being so incredibly in love with mountain and rain that it hurts

✭✭✭✭

under the cut or on AO3

if you were to ask "what would you change about your life?"

swiss would simply answer with a laugh and say nothing. which is true. so incredibly true.

why would he change anything in the first place? he already has everything her could possibly hope for. 

every morning he wakes up next to the people he loves the most in his life. every morning he traces his thumbs over the spattering of freckles that adorn mountain's cheeks. every morning he plays connect the dots with the moles and rain's arms.

he wouldn't trade them for the world.

and when mountain eventually wakes up, swiss smiles and tells him good morning, giggles at his half conscious mumbling, and knows that it's gonna he a good day. 

the two bask in the rays of sunlight peeking through the curtains for hours until rain finally rises from the dead. 

swiss tells him good morning, kisses the tip of his nose, and smiles when that lavender hue spreads across the water ghoul's face. 

mountain reaches over eventually, brushing the hair from rain's face before rain eventually rolls over to fetch mountain's glasses. and swiss smiles and the familiarity of their routine. smiles at the familiarity of his mates, curled up next to him, sunbathing in the morning rays. 

coffee is the next most important thing on their list, after kisses of course. mountain grabs their mugs from the top shelf, specially hidden there so that a certain mr dewdrop ghoul cant steal them; while swiss grabs the coffee he knows rain would turn into a puddle without, the tea mountain made himself out of the flowers and herbs in his greenhouse, and hot chocolate for himself because he's already too awake for caffeine. 

they all have it down to a science now. rain gets to use the coffee maker first. it's always been that way. swiss refuses to watch rain stand there all grumpy and tired when he has to wait to make his coffee. 

only once the coffee is brewed and the princess is happy will swiss touch the machine. mountain watches the two work around each other in perfect harmony, content with just waiting for his water to boil on the stove instead of getting it from the coffee maker. 

they all sit in silence afterwards, save for the occasional sniffle or tail thumping against the ground, sipping their chosen drinks in peace. 

swiss loves mornings like this. when it's just them.

he still loves the others, of course. he cant go at least one day without terrorizing a grumpy little fire ghoul in the mornings. and he obviously will still reluctantly leave bed when he smells the signature scent of aether making pancakes. and who is he to deny cumulus a night of cuddling after a hard day of mindless ministry chores. 

but it doesnt stop him from loving, needing, craving, mornings like these. morning where him, mountain, and rain just exist. mornings where he can curl up on the couch sandwiched between the two. 

and even on days when he knows it's gonna be bad, he still won't deny mountain his snuggles or rain his kisses. and if he where to deny them of their wants, he knows they'll be waiting for him with open arms when he finally comes around. 

because even on the days where nothing seems to go quite right, he knows that once he is in his favorite earth giant's arms, or his favorite siren's nest of pillows, everything will be fine.

so if you were to ask swiss what he would change about his life, he would say absolutely nothing.

even if you were to offer him the most appealing prize in the world, he would shake his head and move on. 

swiss loves mountain, and rain, and his pack, and all the little things they do to piss him off, make him cry or smile. 

he wouldn't trade his life even if it were to save the world. 

but if it were mountain, or rain, or his pack, or his papa, then he would give all he could just to know that they would be okay.

because a world without mountain is a world without warmth. because a world without rain is a world without knowledge and beauty. because a world without his pack or his papa is dull and bleak. because a world without the ones he loves is a world that is not worth living in.

#v writes #swiss ghoul #mountain ghoul #rain ghoul #swissalps #rulti #moutrain #swissmountrain #swiss x mountain x rain #the band ghost #ghost bc #ghost band #please dont let this flop