#it's about panting after truth-- all truth any truth more truth than I can ever have

[queenlucythevaliant]

Do you think Behemoth and Leviathan were actually real and happened to be dinosaurs? Behemoth was a huge and formidable land dinosaur while Leviathan was a pleisiosaur. Technically, plesiosaurs weren't dinosaurs, but you get my idea?

So I've been sitting on this ask for a little bit because I honestly didn't know what tone to take in answering it. I don't know your background, and thus don't know whether to be more blunt or delicate. Ultimately, I settled on blunt, simply because I could not figure out how to answer this question delicately. That said, I hope you take this in the gracious spirit in which I have written it.

SO. That's a hard no from me, friend. Let's discuss!

So typically when you hear people say that Behemoth and Leviathan were dinosaurs (or dinosaur adjacent), it's in the context of arguments in favor of young earth creationism. It's a fairly big talking point with the Answers in Genesis crowd. Basically, they make the argument that Biblical texts referencing creatures that superficially resemble dinosaurs are evidence that humans and dinosaurs could have lived at the same time.

This works out if the earth is only 6,000 years old, but not if we take paleontology, geology, or human evolution at all seriously. The writer of Job would have had no way of knowing that dinosaurs and plesiosaurs existed because they had already been extinct for many millions of years. Even if you want to argue that maybe God is describing creatures with which Job was unfamiliar, it still doesn't track. God's address to Job treats these creatures as something for which he has a point of reference. It also just doesn't make sense why God would choose this moment to reveal the existence of dinosaurs. Talk about a tangent!

I don't know where you fall on the spectrum of Christian beliefs regarding origins and the age of the earth, but I've written at length on this blog about the case for theistic (old earth) evolution, so I won't rehash that here. Check out my all truth is God's truth tag or shoot me an ask if you want more on that. Regarding Behemoth and Leviathan, however, I think some of the same exegetical skills involved in reading (or misreading) Genesis are involved in the relevant chapters of Job.

When God addresses Job out of the whirlwind, he uses poetic language. He's talking about a real thing (his sovereignty over the universe), but it's something that transcends human comprehension on an overwhelming scale. Much like we can't ever hope to wrap our heads around deep time, we're simply not capable of grasping the extent of God's sovereignty.

When God describes storehouses of hail reserved for the day of battle, are we supposed to literally think that there is a giant building in heaven where God keeps all his hail? Or is it a picture of God's might as both creator and judge of the universe? If we know our Bibles, we see that hail is frequently used as a tool of judgement against God's enemies: Egypt, the Canaanites, apostate Israel, and ultimately the rebellious earth. So when God describes his storehouses of hail, we see the reality of his total control over the arc of history, his ultimate justice, his orderliness.

Likewise, Behemoth and Leviathan use the established language and symbolism of Scripture to convey truths for which plain language wouldn't suffice. Behemoth's description isn't that of any real animal, living or extinct. God paints a picture of a creature that no man could ever hope to tame and expresses that he, God, can.

Leviathan is the longer and more interesting image; it's a mighty creature of the deep that breathes fire and cannot be controlled. We know that in Biblical parlance, water is frequently associated with chaos (too many places to enumerate, but Psalms, the Prophets, and Revelation are good starting places). Leviathan is a picture of this chaos: mighty, rearing, deadly, uncontrollable, terrifying. Then God says to Job, "Can you draw this creature out with a fishhook? Can you make a covenant with him? Will he serve you? Can you injure him? Do you have any means at all of controlling the chaos monster? I do." It's poetry used to express a truth that we humans cannot hope to grasp otherwise: We cannot control the chaos of the world around us. We can't even try. But God can, and he does it effortlessly.

So no. Not dinosaurs. And I think that arguing that they are, especially trying to pick through the text and figure out which ones they're supposed to be and using that to argue for literalistic interpretations of Genesis, really misses the point and the power of what God is saying here.

I think Job's words back to God at the end of the book actually give us a remarkably important principle when it comes to Biblical interpretation: "I have uttered what I do not understand, things too wonderful for me, which I did not know." The whole Bible is too wonderful for us. God condescended in order to give us his truth, and he had the magnificent grace to give it to us in ways that we can begin to grasp.

I think a lot of really literalistic reads on Scripture (Job, Genesis, Revelation, and elsewhere) are a kind of grasping at control. There's an assumption in it that God gave the ancients an exact accounting of things that humans just aren't equipped to fully comprehend.

That doesn't mean we shouldn't try! But it does mean that when we read Scripture concerning the Big Things: the Sovereignty of God, the creation of the universe, the origin of life, eternity, infinity, even spiritual mysteries like the Trinity and the nature of the Incarnation, we have to approach it as something fundamentally beyond our comprehension which God is showing us the edges of. We can see other, different edges of many of those same things through scientific observation (or philosophy, or whatever other disciplines-- not all of the Big Things are scientific in nature.)

It's like Isaac Newton said: "I do not know what I may appear to the world, but to myself I seem to have been only like a boy playing on the sea-shore, and diverting myself in now and then finding a smoother pebble or a prettier shell than ordinary, whilst the great ocean of truth lay all undiscovered before me."

#i really really hope that this doesn't read as unkind #i really appreciate the question! and i don't know where you're coming from generally #but this stuff makes my heart sing #or ache sometimes when i see people reading the Bible in certain ways #i love my YEC brothers and sisters which is why I'm so passionate about theistic evolution #it's about panting after truth-- all truth any truth more truth than I can ever have #and yet recognizing that some truths are too lofty for me #i wish like hell that I could cast my mind back and really understand deep time #the eons the clockwork-precision the tides leading to life #i wish that i could understand the mysteries of knowledge the mysteries of God's sovereignty of suffering of grace of the Godhead #i will have so so many questions for God when I see him face to face #and even then i probably will not be given all the answers #i am trying to learn how to be okay with that #side note: there will be scientific research in the new heavens and the new earth i am all but sure of it #all truth is God's truth #ask me hard questions

[scribbledghost]

Simon having sex with reader on the Thanksgiving dinner table? Maybe he comes home from work really late to a table full of food and reader looking pretty as ever, and he decides to show his gratitude.🥴😏

Welcome Home

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader (no y/n)

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2,009

Warnings: oral (F receiving), table sex, dirty talk, praise, use of "good girl", tongue clicks from Simon

Note: Everyone say "Thank you @sillylittlereader " for fueling my feral Scribs-brained behavior (Also everyone say "thank you anon" bc that addition made me literally lol). Gonna combine these two cause I caaaaaan. Happy Wanksgiving all! Hopefully yall enjoy my first attempt at full smut after many, many moons.

As soon as Simon opens the front door and steps inside, he knows he's in for a good evening.

The smell of food hits him immediately, the house warmer than usual from where you'd been cooking. He discards his boots and follows the scent into the kitchen, where he finds you milling about and putting another dish onto the counter. It joins several others, and he's quick to notice at least a couple of his favorites.

"Now what's all this?" He says with a grin. You look back at him with a matching look.

"Dinner," you say simply. "I know doing day work and training on-base isn't your favorite, so I figured I'd make a nice, big meal for you. Everything's on the counter, table's cleaned off, so all you have to do is make your plate and eat."

A warm feeling constricts Simon's chest, and he finds himself unable to resist striding towards you and pulling you in for a kiss.

And another.

And another.

As he parts from you, hands on your hips as you look at him with a lidded gaze, he realizes there's one thing he wants before he enjoys the work you've put into welcoming him home.

"I know it's technically bad form, love," he rumbles, guiding you by the hips back towards the table, "but maybe you could let me have dessert first, yeah?"

"Oh, I suppose I can allow it. Just this once," you reply with a sly grin that he matches.

With that, he hefts you up onto the table and takes a seat between your legs. 

He wastes little time lifting your shirt just enough to press a few hot, open-mouthed kisses to your stomach. From there, he helps you quickly divest yourself of your pants and underwear, grabbing both and helping you lift yourself from the table just long enough for him to pull both off in one fluid motion. 

When the garments land on the floor, Simon hooks his arms beneath your legs, pulls you closer to him, and buries his face in you.

If there is one thing Simon does well when he's not in the field, it's eating. He devours you like a man starved, like he'll never get another chance to taste you. He dips his tongue into you before sliding it up to your clit, kissing and sucking and lapping at you in a practiced manner he knows works. As much as he knows he should give you a few of his fingers to help stretch you open for what is to come, he can't help but forgo the courtesy, too invested in tasting your slick to waste any.

"Taste so fucking good, baby," he moans, "can't get enough of this cunt. Never get enough of you."

He's telling the truth. He could spend hours with his head buried between your thighs. In fact, he has before. He wonders if you'll be so kind as to let him do it again tomorrow morning; have him wake you with his tongue and continue like that until you start pushing him away.

But that's a thought for later. For now, he's got much more important matters to attend to.

He feels your hand grab his hair, a low groan tearing from his lungs as you pull him deeper into you. The hands on your skin tighten their grip, his brows knit together in concentration.

"That's it love," he says, voice muffled by your cunt, "take what you want from me."

Your hips buck against him and he follows, cock hard and twitching in his pants as you moan for him. He knows you're close by the way your thighs shake in his grasp, and he's determined to all but drag you over the edge.

Your breathing gets shallower, interspersed with staccato moans and whines. You breathe his name into the air, and Simon growls against your heat.

"That's it love," he encourages again, "be good and cum for me, yeah?"

With that, he returns to his task at hand, laser-focused on getting what he wants.

And what he wants is for you to smother him. What he wants is for you to envelop him, make it so nothing else so much as touches any of his senses.

He wants - no, needs - to make you feel good. To help you fall from the precipice and lose yourself to what he's giving you.

And fall you do.

With a sharp cry of his name, he feels your sex clench and twitch against his mouth as you come undone beneath him. He helps you through it, moaning soft, affirmative "mhm"s as you ride your orgasm to its end.

When you slump against him, muscles finally relaxing, he gives you one last lick with the flat of his tongue before moving to kiss your thighs.

"Good girl," he says softly, "so, so good for me."

He begins a slow ascent, nudging his nose against the hem of your shirt and pushing it upwards so he can mouth at the skin just beneath it.

After pressing a few more kisses to your abdomen and stomach, he stands, removing his shirt and using it to somewhat dry his face before discarding it. 

"Look so fuckin' pretty when you cum," he says as he leans in to kiss you properly. "Never gonna get tired of watchin' you."

Simon's hips rut against you as his tongue dips into your mouth, a light hum leaving him as he hears you whine softly.

"I know, baby," he murmurs apologetically against your lips, "I know you're still sensitive. Jus' can't help it, yeah? Wanna make sure you're nice and wet before I take you."

It's an excuse, and both of you know it. Simon knows you're plenty ready for him, especially after one orgasm, but he's allowing himself to be selfish. To give himself a taste of you before he devours you again in another way. In the depths of his brain, he wonders if some of your slick will coat his belt. Wonders if it will dry there, where he will carry it with him the next time he wears it to base. An invisible mark of ownership.

He could keep going, keep grinding against you until he comes undone without ever even removing his own pants.

But that simply will not do. Not for Simon. And after you whine again against his mouth, the overstimulation on your clit no doubt bordering on painful, he gives you mercy.

At least, that's what he tells himself as he unbuckles his belt and undoes his pants, pushing them just far down enough with his briefs to release his cock from its confines.

"See what you do to me, love?" he says lowly as he slides gently against your heat, coating himself in a mix of your spend and his precum. 

Then, deciding he's had enough teasing for one afternoon, Simon begins the slow push into you.

He's not a small man, and he knows it. Saying so doesn't come from a place of inflated ego, but rather from real, practical experience, both with you and past lovers. He guides himself into you as gently as he's able, not wanting the pressure he knows you must feel to turn into pain.

But then, as his hips are about halfway to you, he notices something.

You've closed your eyes.

And, again, that simply will not do.

"Hey. Hey," he says gruffly before he clicks his tongue twice at you, "eyes open, love. Want you to look at me while I stuff you full."

You give him a bleary look, eyelids just barely obeying his command as he continues to push deeper into you. 

The pair of you erupt in joint moans when the front of his thighs meet your body. Simon leans forward to rest his forehead against yours as he catches his breath.

"Fuck, love, you feel so fucking good," he breathes into the space between you. 

"So do you," you answer in an equally breathless tone. 

Simon surges forward to kiss you, keeping his lips on yours as he begins to roll his hips. Your arms wrap around his neck, bringing him impossibly closer to you. 

As much as he wants to draw this out, as much as he wants to start slowly and build up until you're both tense and begging for release, he simply can't find it in himself to wait any longer. His hips seem to move of their own accord, snapping into you and punching moans from your lungs. 

When he pulls back for a moment to stand and watch your body, he notices that your eyes are once again closed as you're lost to the pleasure he's giving you.

"Show me those pretty eyes, love," he says softly. When you only whine in response, he reluctantly stills his thrusts.

"Hey, eyes on me," he says more harshly, once again clicking his tongue at you. "You open those eyes and look at me."

You slowly obey, and he feels you clench around him when he clicks his tongue. When he's satisfied that you're watching, he begins his thrusts again.

"There she is," he says breathlessly with a grin. "There's my girl."

He holds your gaze as he continues, fucking into you at an increasing pace. He is enraptured by you. By your voice, by your body, by your gaze. He chases his high, but quickly realizes there's something important that he's forgotten.

"Reach down and touch yourself for me, love," he commands. "Want you to give me one more before I fill you."

To your credit, you do as he asks, reaching a hand down to rub at your clit as he continues to thrust into you. The action catapults Simon impossibly closer to his peak, though by some grace he manages to hold himself together as you chase another orgasm.

It doesn't take as long as Simon assumes it will for you to come again. Or perhaps it does. Time has long since become an abstract concept to Simon, just as it always does when he's inside of you like this. Nevertheless, he feels your walls flutter around him as you sigh his name.

"Good girl," he croons to you as you come, "good girl."

Once you come down, he throws his self-restraint to the wind and surges towards his own orgasm in earnest. 

"Gonna cum, love," he says, leaning in to touch his forehead to yours again. "Gonna fill you up, make you mine."

You don't respond in words, but he feels a hand grab the back of his head as you pull his lips to yours. 

A groan rips through his body as Simon comes, stilling inside of you as his cock twitches. He moans out some approximation of your name against your lips as he loses himself.

An indeterminate amount of time later, when the two of you part and begin to catch your breath, you lock eyes.

And you both laugh.

A light, beautiful sound.

"Well, can't say I was expecting that," you say.

"Had to thank you somehow, love," he quips. 

He helps you to sit up, tucking himself back into his pants as he leaves his shirt on the floor and his belt unbuckled. He aids you in putting your pants and underwear back on, softly promising to help you shower after you both eat.

"After all," he says as he kisses you, "it'd be a tragedy to let all this food get any colder than it is already."

You laugh softly at him.

"And whose fault would that be, Mr. Riley?"

"Yours," he says with a teasing nip to your shoulder, "not my fault you looked good enough to eat."

The soft, good-natured groan you give him as you lightly shove him from you warms his heart. On the field, he prides himself on being cold, calculated, and for leaving little room for anything else. But here, in his home, with you by his side, he feels like the battlefield is a thousand years away.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley smut #ghost x reader #ghost scribbles

[makyurini]

Hi :). Ugh, I absolutely loved your könig fic. If it’s not too much trouble, König with a breeding kink?? tysm💕✨

when i tell you i've been absolutely bonkers lately thinking of this... you're an evil genius and i thank you for that <;3 (also couldn't resist little hints of obsessive behavior and maybe a teeny tiny bit of submissive könig for a few lines maybe perhaps)

cw/tw: NSFT, fem reader (AFAB anatomy, referred to as “mutter”, “mama”), talks of impregnating and being pregnant, könig kinda tosses reader around a lil bit, size kink, some marking (biting, scratching), a teeny tiny bit of choking if you squint, maybe even a lil bit of dumbification, very enthusiastic consent, implied no condom usage, not proof read bcoz my coochie wrote this, uhhh i think that's it?

König has never been one to try and push boundaries. Though he isn’t shy by any means when it comes to exploring things in the bedroom, he’s all too aware of how easy it would be to accidentally hurt you, and he’s not sure how he would cope with that guilt. He doesn’t think he could handle it, truth be told, because he’s gentle by nature; always placing tender kisses wherever his lips will reach while his fingers wander, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he lowers his cock into you, making sure to provide you with snacks and water and comfort after every time you’ve spent lost in each other. He’s worked hard to earn your trust, and he’d rather bite his own tongue off than have your faith in him waiver

But he can’t deny that there are times he wants to let loose a little, to throw caution to the wind and fuck you without a worry in the world, to toss the condom to the side and bury himself in you so deeply neither of you are sure where he ends and you begin. It’s damn near painful to hold himself back, bite marks marred into his bottom lip serving as evidence of his restraint, but he does it with pride

That is, until the night you tell him it’s okay to let inhibitions go and allow instinct to take over

“Mein schatz, you feel so good,” König pants into your ear as he continues to thrust into you. “S-S-So fucking good. Oh my god, schnucki, I want to stay inside of you forever”

Two weeks without seeing each other has left you leaving open-mouthed kisses on each other’s bodies before König could even fully unlace his boots, all hungry teeth clashing and tongues raving until clothes were strewn about and restraint was left at the doorway. Pictures and video chat could never replicate the peace of having him with you, hovering over you with his stormy eyes boring into yours, his heart slamming against his chest as if it were trying to reach you. König, your König, with his calloused hands caressing your thighs as he throws your legs over his shoulders. König with his scarred chest heaving and panting as he drills his throbbing cock into you. König with his addictive lips kissing and nibbling on your calves as you whine and wither beneath him. König with his rough voice spilling out praises and groans all over your body

König, König, König

Nothing could do him justice, truly, especially not blurry pictures and hushed phone calls late at night

“P-Please, König,” you whimper underneath him, and somehow find the strength to shimmy your legs down and attempt to wrap them around his waist, effectively trapping him. “Don’t stop! Don’t fucking stop, please”

“Wouldn’t dream of it” One of his hands comes down to cup your cheek, and you twist your face so you can kiss his calloused palm. A breath catches itself in his chest, and he lets out a low groan before dipping his head down into the crevice of your neck. “Do you know what you do to me, liebling, how crazy you make me? God, du bist schön” You are beautiful. And god, does he mean it. More beautiful than any sunset, any summer storm, any night sky he has ever had the privilege to see. He thinks you might be an angel. He knows, at the very least, one is envious of you

Your legs around him tighten, and he thinks for a moment he sees heaven. “Show me,” you pant and dig your nails into his back, earning a surprisingly loud moan from him. “Show me how crazy I make you, König”

His hips falter for only a moment, a concerned look flashing across his face. “Are you sure, schatz? I don’t know how much I can hold back”

“I don’t want you to. I want you to fuck me in the way you truly want to”

And there’s a set determination in your eyes, a challenge, that despite the fact that you’re already covered in a thin blanket of sweat and your thighs and calves are littered with bite marks, you still think he’ll hold back. I want you to fuck me in the way you truly want to. But what if that means hurting you on accident? What if it means leaving more marks than either of you are prepared to take care of? What if it means you’ll never be able to trust him the same way again?

As if sensing his hesitance, you squeeze your thighs again, forcing him to look you in the eye; and when he does, all he can see is love and trust shining in your irises and that, he thinks, no matter what happens, he never wants you look at him any differently. That if he could, he’d take a snapshot of that expression and put it in a locket to hold close to his heart. Precious, so precious. He never wants to lose it, to lose you, to ever stray so far from you that he forgets what it's like to love and be loved in return. So he does the only thing he can think of in that moment: he presses your legs down so your knees are nearly touching your ears, and sets a near back-breaking pace as he thrusts his cock into you

It’s absolutely carnal the way he grabs and pulls at you, how easy it is for him to pin you down exactly where he wants you, how he can bend and twist your body in ways you didn’t even think possible. One hand twists and pinches at your nipples, the other grips the meat of your thigh to keep in you in place, and he's sure this is what heaven must feel like. Pretty sounds fall from your lips and crash against him like a hurricane, and he's never been more thankful to be a human before this moment, basking in everything you provide him with, bottling every little noise fluttering out of you and bottling it away for safe-keeping

“König,” you cry out, shaking hands gripping onto the sheets beneath you for some sense of stability. “König, fuck, f-feels so good, so full”

His eyes roll to the back of his head, hips slapping into the back of your thighs and fingers digging into your flesh more. “Oh gott, liebe, tell me. Tell me how good I make you feel. Tell me how much you need me. Tell me, schatz, tell me you want all of me like I want all of you”

Your fingers are nearly splitting through your skin with how tightly you’re holding onto the last few shreds of sanity, red mist dousing your bodies as evidence of your dedication and passion. He’s so pretty above you, all low growls and moans as he’s losing himself inside of you more and more, begging for just a little more. Tell me how much you love me so I feel okay about how obsessed I am with you. I’ll crack my ribcage open for you, just tell me how pretty red looks on me

“Wan’ all of you, König,” you babble underneath him, voice wobbly with tears and carnality. “Need you so bad! Please, need everything from you! Fuck me pregnant for all I fucking care, as long as it’s yours!”

It’s as though a beast takes over König's body, one he thought he kept locked away from you, far enough to never come close, hidden enough that he often forgets it’s there, claws capped and mouth muzzled as to not be tempted to listen to its growls. He isn’t sure what sends him over, whether it was hearing how desperate you are to cum or to hear you wouldn’t mind him getting you pregnant. In one swift movement, König has you sitting in his lap and is bouncing your limp body on his cock, trembling legs wrapped around his waist and heavy head leaning on his broad shoulder for support. He’s not quite gentle with you, not quite rough, just enough to let you know he’s a man on a mission to have you nice and round with his child

“Look so pretty,” he coos in your ear, the rough sound of skin slapping skin a direct [contradiction] to the tenderness in his tone. “You’d look so pretty with a big belly, yeah? Wearing my shirts and waddling around. Gonna be a good mama, aren’t you? Gonna be the best mutter to our pretty lil’ baby, hm?” His accent grows thicker and thicker the closer and closer he gets to the edge, and you find yourself squeezing down on him even more, without a thought, without a care, so long as you can milk him for every last drop. “Tell me, mama, who do you think the baby will look like more, hm? Do you think it’ll be tall as me? Have your nose? Gott, I hope it has your laugh. Tell me, mama, tell me you can’t wait to be the mutter of my child. Tell me you want to be pregnant and full with my baby. Tell me, mama, tell me, please”

“Wan’ be the mother of your child,” you manage to slur, face nestled in the crook of his neck and breathing in his musky scent as his balls slap against the swell of your ass, legs shaking the more the knot in your guts tighten. “Fuck, König, wan’ you to take care of me while I’m so pregnant I can’t do anything for myself. Wan’ you to fret over me and spoil me so our baby comes out happy and healthy”

And suddenly, König is wrapping his arms around you and squeezing onto you as if you’re the only thing keeping him grounded. A part of you suspects that’s true. Another part, a part you’d rather ignore, hopes it’s true

“Ich komme gleich,” his rough voice pierces your ears. I’m going to cum. “Please, schatz, ich will in dir kommen” I want to cum inside you. “Lass mich in dir kommen, bitte, ich flehe dich an” Let me cum inside of you, please, I'm begging

“Cum, liebste, cum, cum, cum, please! Fuck, I’m gonna cum with you”

Your cries mix with his whines, and, just as abruptly as it all began, you’re both spilling over each other, praises and pleas and moans and whimpers pouring over your bodies and cocooning you in warmth and safety. Though he trembles beneath you, König gently nudges your forehead off of his shoulder so he can place a gentle kiss on your nose, then your cheek, and finally your lips, his cock spurting the last of his cum inside of you

Once he's sure you're both fucked out and blissful, he slides you off of his lap in order to inspect the mess on his thighs. Unsurprising to the both of you, some of his cum has managed to leak out of you, but he scoops it up and carefully slides it back into you, already half-hard at the thought of possibly fucking it back in you instead

“Do you really think I’d make a good mom?” you ask after he’s fetched you some water and a snack to nibble on. “Or was that just your way of going bareback?”

He playfully wrinkles his nose at your remark, and grins when you let out a snort. “I think you’d make the best mutter.” And his voice is so benevolent, full of so much adoration and love, that you can’t help but shyly smile up at him. He’s quick to place a chaste kiss on the crown of your head before getting up to wipe the sweat that gathered on his body, and you quickly swat at his bottom before he has a chance to dodge your hand

“What if I’m not pregnant though?”

The grin he flashes at you is such a perfect mixture of boyish and wolfish that, just for a breath, you forget what his profession is and good at it he is. “Then we’ll have to keep trying, won’t we?”

You have a funny feeling you’re going to be awfully busy for the next few months.

Reblogs/comments are always appreciated! ♡

#one day i'll be able to write smut without mutual obsession themes #today is not that day <3 #könig x reader #könig cod #könig smut #konig #konig imagine #konig modern warfare #konig x reader #konig cod #konig smut #könig modern warfare #♡.mine! #namedaftertheweather

[meanbossart]

Because I love the idea of DU drow as a companion... how would you recruit him? Where do you find him, and what's his intro cutscene?

Hi, I've been thinking about this since I got this message :V

There's this nautiloid pod somewhere nearby the Owlbear cave right? So those things were just crashing all over the place, not just near the beach where the actual ship fell. I believe his pod could have had a similar fate and fallen somewhere off the beaten path.

Mind you that, In this scenario, waking up from the pod and onto the forest map would have been DU Drow's first-ever conscious minutes ever since having his mind wiped, so he truly has no fucking idea of what just happened - he just knows his head is in shambles and that he needs to survive for long enough for his memories to return, assuming they ever will. So, his immediate instinct would be to retreat away from where the people are.

I think underneath the bridge, where there's running water and some fauna/flora would be a good spot to find him. Players might take a day or two until they stumble across this weirdo companion and so they are more in the loop than he would be. You'd find a little blood-trail leading you down there, and eventually spot a fist's corpse with no shoes near the river - DU drow would be crouched down by the water washing blood off himself:

While the rest of the party may have been picked off random places as they went about their days, this guy was busy being dissected and put back together over and over again - and there's no way Kressa bothered to dress him back up fully before he was taken away from her (me allowing the man to have pants on at all is a mercy onto you all) so he begins with no armor, but to make up for that fact he's the only companion who begins with a great-sword, which he would have stolen from the fist.

When you approach he is perfectly calm, In fact, he doesn't seem all that there. He stands up and appears half-ready for a fight, but lets you speak first. You can either ask what he's doing here, or about the corpse. You get more or less the same answer to both:

If you successfully persuade him, he tells you with no particular tone of shame or remorse that you got him, he did kill him, however he claims he was attacked first. Whether you pry into his mind with the worm, or have a scroll of read-thoughts, you get the same narration:

"Behind the aloof facade, you find the drow's mind to be in a concerning state of disarray: dozens of thoughts racing, jumbled, all at once, each trailing into the next before you can catch a hint of substance. You don't find the answers you were looking for, just red goo."

You CAN however use speak to the dead on the corpse. If you do that, it's revealed that he is actually telling the truth; The fist found him and assumed him to be with the drow who raided Wakeen's rest. Otherwise, you have to either take his word for it, attack him, or leave him.

He will refuse your offers to join you/go to your camp until you reveal to him that you have been tadpoled - either through using the Illithid-worm option, or telling him upfront through normal dialogue. If you didn't peer into his head earlier, you will now, confirming to yourself and him that he's also been infected. Then, you can tell him you're looking for a cure, and he will agree to travel along. This gets you approval from Shadowheart, Karlach, and Astarion, and disapproval from Lae'zel, Wyll, and Gale.

If you attack, he's as easy a fight as any companion would be at that point. If you choose to leave him be/not tell him about your worm so he refuses to join, he will appear at your camp after two long rests, basically forcing himself to into your party unless you kill him. You find him hanging out around Withers and he tells you he's decided to travel with you from now on, and that he will make himself comfortable.

If you ask for his name, he tells you to just call him whatever you want to (cue like 5 joke dialogue answers - he responds to all of them with a snort and you get approval if you pick any flattering ones). Whatever you ask about him gets you a very blunt, vague response. If you have Shadowheart in your party/are playing as her, she implies he may be suffering from memory loss, finally prompting him to admit to it. Otherwise he only reveals this after a couple more long-rests.

#this was fun thank you LOL #I love thinking about his store in terms of actual game mechanics. #ask #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #companion DU drow

[kingconia]

TWISTED WONDERLAND'S HOUSEWARDENS WITH MC, WHO IS MUCH WORSE THAN THEM

(Aka. In their ’signature’ character trait.)

A/N: Idia was left out, because this author had no idea how to write his part.

Riddle Rosehearts. ❤️

— It is not a secret that Riddle might appear a little bit obsessed, when it comes to rules. He knows all of them, and he merely can't understand how others can be so careless!

— And since no one learned them, excluding him, they trusted with each word he said. Mostly, Riddle said truth, following the codex precisely;

— But, oh, he is still a human. Sometimes, he can make mistakes or confuse things...

— That is why, when a new student of his suddenly stood up to point out at his mistake, Riddle doesn't even know what to do: be happy that there is someone else like him, or get annoyed for a necessity to admit his wrong?

•

”Hmph, how dare you call yourself a housewarden of Heartslabyul, when you can't follow elemental rules?”

As other students gasp, shocked by this kind of braveness, Riddle feels his cheek heating. Either from anger or from a strict gaze of yours, that reminds him much of his mother.

”You said that the ’only ever drink tea with slice of lemon on even thursdays’ rule is under 53 number,” you repeat, with hands on the tips, and with no care to Trey, who tries to stop you.

”That, I did,” regaining his coldness, Riddle admits.

Truth to be told, he sensed that he made some kind of mistake with this one. But recently he had been more tired than usual, and it is not like someone else know those rules but him, right?

Right?

”Well," you huff. ”It is under number 35.”

Oh.

”I...” Riddle tries to ignore others eyes on him, fingers digging in the fabric of his pants.

He fights an urge to lie about checking other students, instead of admitting his fault. You don't give him time for any of that.

”Well, keep that in mind then,” you say. ”I expect my housewarden to respect our dorm rules, after all.”

With that, you merely leave.

Riddle has a very mixed feelings about this encounter...

Leona Kingscholar. 💛

— When headmaster Crowley stops him not for yelling at him for missed lessons, but to speak of another troublemaker from Savanaclaw, Leona is caught off guard;

— It appears, a new freshmen, gained a quite awful reputation. You seem to be sleeping all the time—you did, in the ceremony; and you do, if you appear on lectures, though, mostly, you don't at all—and the only good thing about you is your surprisingly high grades;

— Truth to be told, Leona is just amused by that. All those warnings some pretty familiar, so, he decides to see you himself;

— Of course, Leona couldn't expect you to be so familiarly annoying!

•

”Shit,” you yawn, a frown touching your face instantly. ”Dude, you must have a really good reason to wake me up.”

Leona blinks; his curiosity changing with irritation quickly as he hears you speaking so carelessly, while stretching under the tree, not even standing up to meet him properly.

”Oi, brat, pay some respect to your housewarden!” He hisses. ”Perhaps, you are forgetting who are you speaking with?”

”Leona-sama,” you sigh tiredly, not impressed by his answer, ”I can't pay respect to someone, who thinks that distracting me from my power nap, is fine.”

Leona is speechless. Mostly, because he doesn't know how to argue about this—he agrees that sleep is more important than anyone or anything in this school, after all. But the amount of disrespect...

”Do you have an idea of your reputation? Headmaster plans to expel you from the school if you continue like this.

Leona internally cringes from these words.

”Sure,” you hum lazily. ”Good luck with throwing off the best first-year student, just because they find those lectures boring.”

Leona can't even answer to you properly. You just fall asleep as soon as you stop speaking, with your tail wrapping around your legs peacefully. At least, he understands Ruggie now...

Azul Ashengrotto. 🩵

— Azul makes a quick background check on all of his students, of course. For safety reasons. More or less;

— So, he is surprised, when one of the freshman, who happens to be you, is too secretive. Azul can't find anything on you at all, even the smallest piece of information, and so, he gets curious;

— His first plan—to get twins stalker on you—fails, when you catch them in the action, somehow. Even worse, you somehow make a pact with them, which stops them from trying to dig in your past more...

— Your next step is to send Azul invitation for a little friendly lunch in the Monster Lounge. Sadly, when he agreed, he couldn't know that was expecting him here...

•

”I am failing to understand a purpose of our meeting,” Azul locks his hands together, staring at you without even blinking.

You make another sip of the apple juice you ordered, lips stretching in a soft smile.

”I am here to offer you a pact, Azul-sama.”

Azul almost bursts in the laughter. Who do you think you are, making this bold offer, going against him? What an amusement.

”Oh? Surprise me, then.”

”As far as I know, you spent last three weeks, trying to gain a little information about me. But, oh, all for nothing. Just as I tried to find an answer for a few questions considering you and the Monster Lounge, and failed... So, what I am proposing, is to exchange our secrets mutually,” you wink. ”What do you think?”

How stupid of you to think that he will agree on something like this!

”And why would I want to make a pact with you?”

Suddenly, you search for something in the inner pocket of your jacket. And as you find some envelope, you offer it to him.

”Because you don't want this to get leaked, perhaps?”

It takes a few minutes from him to process what is inside, but when he does, colours leave his face instantly.

”Y-you—”

How did you?..

”It is a deal, then.” You laugh.

Azul hates how there is nothing he can say to you...

Kalim Al-Asim. 🧡

— Kalim tries to befriend each student of his house naturally! But, sometimes, others don't want to return his sentiment as he is too loud and too naive for them, so they avoid him or offer a fake sympathy;

— So, when one of the students rushes to befriend him first, smiling widely as they met their old friend, Kalim is very, very happy!

— You match instantly, your undying energy and enthusiasm about everything bringing you close as soon as you start speaking;

— Even better, you take him seriously, too. It is something other do rarely, seeming him stupid and air-headed, but you know that is more than that. It goes in both way, after all.

•

”I... I must admit, I am very happy to be your friend,” you muse softly, back pressing to the carpet as both of you taking your short flight around the school. ”I think, I annoy a lot of people here... But I am not annoying you, am I?”

Kalim looks surprised with this question—after all, you knew him better than anyone!—as he rushes to shake his head in denial.

”No, no! You would never.”

You hum, turning on your stomach slowly. Head pressed on your crossed hands, you nod at him.

”That's good. Thank you.... And, Kalim?”

”Yes?” He asks, mirroring your pose, your shoulders pressing together.

”I think you are amazing housewarden, too. Don't allow anyone think otherwise.”

Before you manage to understand, Kalim is already tucking you on the back, to hug rightly. Just how you always know what to say to him, or how to make him happy?

Vil Schoenheit. 💜

— Everyone knows that despite his tight schedule, Vil always checks on all of his students, so they could fit standards of their dorm;

— He takes more time to deal with new students, though. Most of them are still not aware of Pomefiore rules and expectations, so, he needs to speak with all of them individually;

— So, Vil is slightly taken aback, when someone is already instructing new students before him. He watches as you explain others common rules, while giving them random advice on how to enhance their skin and hair routine, basing on different problems and offering interesting solutions, curiously:

— Of course, Vil can't wait to speak with you personally!

•

”Y/n Y/s, right?” You pause your speeches, nodding at Vil, who just entered the room. ”I had been watching you for a while, and, I must say, you have impressive qualities. And style, too.”

Vil partly expects you to become all shy over his compliment—that is what happens usually, at least—but, instead, you became even more serious than before.

”I appreciate that, but I believe my wish to help other classmates is partly selfish. And selfishness shouldn't be praised.”

It is not what he thought he will hear.

”And how so?” He asks with unhidden curiousity.

”I strive for perfection, and perfection can only be achieved by the hard work,” you punctuate firmly, raising your chin higher. ”But I also believe that your surroundings should fit you—and so, my dorm, classmates, and housewarden should meet my expectation for myself, too. Therefore, I need to guide them in perfection alone with myself.”

Ah.

Vil can't help but smirk. What an absolute pleasure to speak with someone, who knows what they are doing, who has right morals!

”Well, well,” he folds arm on his chest. ”I can't wait to see more of your hard work, then.”

”I would never disappoint.”

But as the conversation is finished, Vil already knows who is going to be the next housewarden, when he leaves.

Malleus Draconia. 💚

— When Lilia tells him that they now have another half-dragon creature in the Diasomnia, Malleus is partly curious. It is a rare thing to have someone of his own kind, after all;

— But, of course, Malleus can't just walk to you and start a conversation. Instead, he tries to see you more often; in school or corridors;

— It doesn't give him much. You seem very cold, and other classmates ignore your presence constantly, though, you don't seem to be interested in them, either;

— He finally has a chance to speak with you personally, when he finds you walking around gargoyles in the evening, though.

•

”Malleus-sama,” you bow your head, noticing his presence even earlier than he announces it. ”Good evening. How this one can help you?”

”Y/n,” he slightly nods, examining you closer. ”If I am not mistaken, there is party for the first-years in the school. Why are you here?”

Malleus can't help but notice hints of confusion, raising in your eyes, before you cover it with the usual stoic expression of yours. With a quiet sigh, you start petting the statute affectionately, much like an animal.

”Is that so? I am afraid, I wasn't invited, then.”

He rewards you with sympathetic look.

”I see,” he adds, awkwardly: ”I am sorry to hear that.”

”Oh, no time for regrets,” your fangs bare in a smile. ”Actually... Malleus-sama, I planned to ask you something for a while, but never had a chance to speak with you before. Can I?”

”Of course.”

”Headmaster told me, that you are leading the club of the researches that are dedicated to gargoyles... And so, I wanted to know what I need to join it. You see...”

As you start rumbling about the importance of gargoyles, Malleus can't help but wonder why he saw you as someone cold before. Was it something others thought of him, judging by short glimpses of his attitude in school?

But it doesn't matter anymore. He thinks, your company is very enjoyable, after all.

#twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #malleus draconia #malleus draconia x reader #vil schoenheit #vil schoenheit x reader #riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #kalim al asim x reader #kalim al asim

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

Loose Lips — Part Two (Eris Vanserra x Reader)

Finally got round to writing a part two to this after a sudden burst of inspiration. Here is Part One if you missed it.

This isn't proofread, so sorry if it's a pile of dicks. Enjoy!

Warnings: smuttysmutsmut 🌶️

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･

The forest was undoubtedly beautiful. A place of sure serenity. Somewhere you’d always found peace.

Right now, you felt like nothing short of a thunderbolt in its flawless midst.

You shifted on your feet for what felt like the millionth time, pressing your back against a tree and crossing your arms over your chest. You wouldn’t be able to relax until this meeting was over with.

Rhysand’s violet eyes flicked over you, and he frowned. “Are you alright? Why are you so restless?”

Because we’re here to meet with Eris and the last time I did that I somehow, kind of, maybe ended up fucking him—

“Fine.” You quickly answered. “Pain. My cycle is coming.”

Rhys’s eyes softened. “We’ll make this as quick as possible. Once the prick actually deigns to show up.”

You didn’t have a shred of doubt that Eris’s tardiness was deliberate — a power play. And he could play all the games he liked, so long as he kept his damn mouth shut.

As if you’d summoned him with a thought, the Autumn male appeared out of a chill-kissed breeze, his crackling-fire-and-cinnamon scent enveloping you. You tried desperately to block it out — and the sinful thoughts that accompanied it. Of bare skin. Panting breaths. Moans—

“Afternoon.” Eris smirked, sliding his hands into his pockets. He offered Rhysand a cursory glance before turning his attention on you. “You’re looking radiant today, Y/N.”

You pursed your lips. Kept your mouth shut. You weren’t getting into it with him — weren’t giving him any ammunition to spill the truth of what had transpired a month earlier.

His lips twitched as he studied you. “What, no smartass response?”

“Cut the shit, Eris.” Rhys rolled his eyes. “Share your information so we can get out of here. We don’t wish to be subjected to your tedious company for any longer than is necessary.”

He cocked his head, and you hated that you noticed he’d cut his hair since you’d last seen him. “Do you not like my company?”

You knew his words were directed at you. He’d come here to play games, and you were having none of it. He allowed his gaze to linger on you for a second longer before turning to your High Lord.

“Well?” Rhys cocked an eyebrow.

Eris folded his arms. “The King of Hybern…”

You didn’t allow yourself to hear the rest of his sentence. For the first time in your career as Rhysand’s courtier, you tuned out, taking in none of the information that was being given. You didn’t hear a word of their discussion as you stared fiercely at a fallen leaf on the ground. You couldn’t.

Because it tortured you on a daily basis that you knew what the redhead’s voice sounded like when he was falling off that precipice into blissful release. The way it had hitched when he’d groaned deeply and spilled into you. It was all you could think about, and you couldn’t bear it.

Guilt had eaten away at you ever since. Guilt and regret. You should never have given yourself to Eris fucking Vanserra.

You only felt safe enough to tune back in when Rhys turned his gaze on you. He gave a subtle dip of his chin, and you returned it — the signal the two of you shared when you’d gleaned useful information to tuck away.

Never mind the fact that you didn’t have a single clue what that information may be.

“Alright, then.” Rhys spoke tersely to the Autumn lord. “Keep me updated. I’ll be in touch when I next need to meet with you.”

“Will it be you, High Lord?” Eris’s lips turned up. He glanced at you. “Or her? I must say, I find her far more appealing to look at.”

“I’ll keep it a surprise. Something to look forward to in your sad little life.” Rhys turned to you, holding out a hand. “Ready?”

You shook your head. “You go. I promised Madja I’d collect some herbs for her while I’m here.”

A small, pathetic part of you wanted to beg Rhys to stay; to keep you company and not leave you alone with Eris. But he was a busy male — far too busy for the drama you’d created for yourself. You plastered a smile on your face.

“I’ll see you at home, then.” He smiled. And without a goodbye to your tentative ally, he disappeared before your eyes.

Eris smirked as he turned to you. “And then there were two.”

“Leave me alone.” You pulled your foraging knife out, turning on your feet. You didn’t look back as you began to kick through leaves and twigs.

But, of course, he was hot on your trail. “That’s not a very nice thing to say to somebody who made you cum not once, not twice, but three times.”

You clenched your jaw, ignoring him as you knelt down in front of a cluster of plants. You would do better this time. You wouldn’t allow your mouth to run you down a path you couldn’t come back from.

He didn’t make it easy, though. Not as you tried to focus yourself solely on gathering the herbs Madja had listed. Despite the lack of conversation — or even acknowledgement of him — Eris pressed himself against a tree and watched you, absentmindedly cleaning his nails with the point of a dagger.

How could you ever have fallen into bed with him? You were such a damn idiot, risking everything for a few fleeting moments of passion. You tucked the herbs neatly away, pushing to your feet and brushing dirt and leaves from your breeches. You turned—

And stopped as Eris appeared in front of you. He smirked. “I’m still waiting, Y/N.”

You cocked an eyebrow. “For what?”

“For you to thank me for not spilling your dirty little secret.”

Prick. You shoved past him, ignoring his warmth, his scent.

He was at your side in seconds. “Aren’t you so relieved that I didn’t slip up and tell Rhysand about your little ride? I still could.”

Every last drop of your sensibility fizzled out. You couldn’t stop yourself from rounding on him. “Are you truly in a position to be threatening me? Both of us fucked up that night. What do you think Beron would have to say if he found out you’d bedded someone from the Night Court, of all places?”

“My father doesn’t care who I bed. I’m free to do whatever I please, so long as it doesn’t distract me from the ultimate goal.”

“Which is what, exactly?”

His amber gaze glittered, catching the sun. “World domination.”

You rolled your eyes. “How very cliche.”

You made to push past him again, to get the fuck out of there, but his hand was suddenly gripping onto yours. In seconds, he had you pressed against the body of a tree.

You clenched your jaw. “Get. The hell. Away from—”

The remainder of the sentence didn’t have a chance to so much as form as Eris’s mouth found yours.

The press of his kiss was hot and needy, and as his lips moulded with yours, he groaned.

It was that action that made you realise just how little space existed between your bodies. His hips were pinned to yours, keeping you in place, and the warmth of him seeped into you as your breasts brushed his chest. Within seconds — mere seconds of him kissing you — you felt him harden in his breeches. His groan seemed to vibrate through every part of him and into you.

And then he was tearing his lips from yours. Staring down at you. “Fuck, you taste amazing. I’ve thought about nothing but this,” he rolled his hips against you, making sure your attention went exactly where he wanted it, “for over a month, now. Tell me you’ve been just as crazed.”

You had been. Perhaps more so. But you swallowed. “I can’t.”

That didn’t deter Eris from slanting his lips over yours again. His tongue swiped out, brushing against the seam of your lips, and you were powerless against your need as you opened your mouth and allowed him to dip in.

You gasped at the first taste of him; something cool and crisp and smoky. And you knew you were done fighting, telling yourself you didn’t want this, as you grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket and hauled him more firmly against you.

He grunted as the hard evidence of his arousal pressed against your stomach. His lips slid from yours, dragging slowly over your cheek, and then the cut of your jaw, down to your neck.

“You’ll be the death of me.” He panted, pressing quick, chaste kisses to the hollow of your throat. “Tell me to stop.”

You swallowed, knowing there was no chance in hell of that. “No.”

And that single word — as much as it pained you to say it — dragged such a delicious, guttural noise from him, that you forgot entirely about who you were and why this was wrong. Nothing else mattered in that moment other than what Eris was doing.

Your mouth went so very, very dry as he pulled away to meet your gaze. And then lowered himself to his knees before you.

He was utterly uncaring of the dirt and leaves that stuck to his breeches as he clasped your legs. And the hard press of his hands felt scorching through your own pants. You wouldn’t be surprised to find that he’d turned the clothing to mere ash he dragged his palms up the backs of your legs and cupped your ass.

“You’re fucking mouthwatering.” He dipped in, pressing a kiss to your stomach through your shirt. “I need to taste you.”

“Holy gods.” You cursed, your head falling back against the tree. “Do it, then.”

Like a male entirely starved and desperate, his nimble fingers moved to the buttons on your breeches, making quick work of getting them undone. The second they were loosened enough, he yanked them down with a feral command that had heat rushing between your legs.

And he could scent that. You knew it. He inhaled deeply, and his responding moan was sinful.

“This is wrong.” Your voice was weak, useless, as your head fell back.

“So wrong.” Eris hooked his fingers into the thin waistband of your undergarments. Tugged them down..

You made no move to stop him. “And stupid. And selfish. And—”

Your words turned into a moan as he dipped in and dragged his tongue up the very centre of you.

A satisfied grunt left him, and he lifted your leg, hoisting it over his shoulder. It had you at a better angle, closer to him, so he could feast on you.

And feast, he did.

His mouth and tongue were renowned for wielding wicked, barbed words, but this was a different language entirely. His fingers dug into your legs as he buried himself between your thighs, licking and lapping and fucking devouring. He made his way up, scraping teeth over your clit, the sensation both pleasant and unpleasant. Before you had a chance to react, he soothed over the area with the pad of his tongue, and a bolt of white-hot pleasure surged through you.

“Oh, gods.” Breathy words escaped your lips. Thank the Mother above for the mammoth tree at your back that gave you the support to move as you wished to move, undulating your hips, grinding against Eris’s face.

And from the way he growled and feasted on you harder, you knew he liked it. He was becoming coated in you, painting himself with your wetness. With the roll of your hips picking up pace, he didn’t falter once.

“Look at you.” He breathed, eyes flicking up to drink you in. “You’re a fucking vision.”

“Stop talking and make me—oh.”

Your hips bucked as he slid a finger into you, the friction of his callused skin like a sinful bite you wanted more of. You didn’t know if you vocalised that, or if Eris simply read you well, but he quickly added a second finger, pumping them in and out.

“Just as you felt around my cock that night.” He panted. “Squeezing me like that.”

You threaded your fingers through his hair, needing to just…to just grab onto something. He seemed to like it as you pulled, and he thrust his fingers faster in return.

“I’m going to make you come on my fingers.” His tongue stroked at you. “And again on my cock.”

Somewhere, some steeled part of you wanted to give a smartass retort. But you were far too gone, splintering into tiny shards of pleasure against that tree. There was nothing, in that moment, besides the sensations Eris Vanserra dragged from between your thighs. No long-lived feuds or tentative alliances or right or wrong.

It was just him. His fingers. His tongue.

And it sent you hurtling right off that blissful cliff edge into release.

As you came, you thought you maybe shouted loud enough to frighten the birds from the trees. Your pleasure was a fearsome force as it stormed your body, your mind, your soul, until you weren’t sure who you’d be without it. How you could survive not experiencing this weightlessness again.

And Eris…he seemed to enjoy your pleasure as much as you did. Even though his cock strained through his breeches, touched by nothing but torturous fabric, his tongue and fingers continued to guide you through your climax, and he peppered in filthy, scandalous words that you were far too fractured to make sense of.

Until he pulled back to look up at you again. “I’ve wanted you since the second I first saw you.” He said.

You weren’t sure you could deny, any longer, that this truly had been going on for that long. It didn’t start with that one night of bad decisions driving you into bed with him. It had been years and years of thinly-veiled threats and barbed words and insults and vitriol soaked in lust.

Every bit of hatred you’d ever directed at each other had been to try and avoid this — giving in to a carnal need that had existed between you since the first ever time your eyes had met.

You knew you didn’t have that strength, that resolve, anymore.

“I need you inside me.” Your voice was rough, raw. You reached down, shamelessly yanking Eris to his feet by the fabric of his jacket, not caring that your desperation showed. “Fuck me.”

You wanted it — him — hot and hard and fast and certainly not gentle. You wanted the bark of the tree biting into you as he pounded you from behind. You wanted him roaring as unguarded as you had.

“You’re a little brat.” Was all he responded. And then he was kissing you again.

You allowed him the control of your lips as your fingers tore at the front buttons on his breeches. Nothing was moving fast enough, and you were hot all over, desperate to feel him pulsing deep inside you—

Y/N. I need you back here.

Rhysand’s voice in your head was akin to be plunged in ice-cold water. Damn daemati. You froze in place, your hands falling still.

Eris didn’t seem to notice as he kissed his way along your jaw.

Y/N. Rhys spoke into your mind again. Get back as soon as you can. Need to discuss Azriel’s report.

You sucked in a breath, planting your hands on Eris’s arms. You pushed him off you. “I have to leave.”

He paused, surprise crossing his face. “What?”

“I can’t — I’m needed back home.” Clarity was dawning on you more and more, paired with guilt. You’d fucked up again. You tried to shake the feeling off as you yanked your underwear and breeches up in one go. “I can’t do this.”

“Seriously?” Eris cocked an eyebrow. “You’re leaving now?”

It was an effort not to glance down at the very unsatisfied bulge still pressing through his breeches. “Rhys just spoke into my thoughts. He needs me back.”

“How convenient.”

Of course he didn’t believe you. You had to admit, it didn’t look great — getting an earth-shattering orgasm out of him and then leaving.

But perhaps it was a blessing from the Mother. Perhaps she was stopping you taking it too far a second time.

“Believe what you want.” You pushed past Eris, buttoning your breeches up. “I answer to my High Lord first and foremost.”

“Go running back to him then.” Eris shrugged. And if you weren’t mistaken, you thought that a strange quality lay in his tone. Perhaps hurt, or…or jealousy. “He says jump and you say how high, right?”

“You have your High Lord, Eris,”  you smoothed over the wrinkles in your clothes, “and I have mine.”

He pressed his back against the tree, watching with an unreadable expression as you checked yourself over.

And then the corner of his mouth tipped up. “You’ll be back, sweetheart.”

You shot him a glance over your shoulder. “That is a very, very bad idea.”

You winnowed out of there before he could respond.

#eris vanserra #eris vanserra x reader #eris #eris fic #vanserra x reader #autumn court #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fandom #acotar x reader #acotar writing #acotar fanfic #acotar headcanon #acotar smut #acotar series #eris vanserra smut #eris smut #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf

[stevenose]

thinking about baron literally switching up on you during sex 🫶🏻 reader with a vagina, no pronouns used for reader!

to be honest, the accent is a little grating. he’s saying things that make no sense, creating euphemisms that confuse you and take you out of the moment. you almost shove your fingers in his mouth to shut him up, but his sweet moans are too good to muffle.

baron. weird name. lamram is even weirder. in fact, ‘lamram’ sounds fake, some kind of made up name only a bimbo like baron would think of. but you have no reason not to believe him. he’s incredibly unassuming. sweetest thing alive, you think.

but you’re really starting to doubt the truth of his confession that he’s a virgin.

and it’s not really because he’s a good kisser. and he is, very much so. so humble and modest and yet he kisses you with such fervor that it’s staggering. claims your whole mouth with his, those big hands coming to cup your cheeks and keep you pressed against him like you might leave. you wouldn’t dream of leaving. certainly not after feeling his bulge, resting pretty on his lap, your tv blaring something useless behind you.

and it isn’t because he’s huge. jesus, is he huge. and your reaction, a wide eyed, open mouthed stare, makes him smirk. you didn’t think a sweetheart like him knew how to smirk. but he frowns when he catches you looking, furrowing his dark brows. “is - is it all right?”

“yeah,” you tell him quickly. “you’re just really big, baron.”

he shrugs a shoulder and smiles, bashful. “didn’ really know that.”

your hand wraps around his shaft, so hard and soft and hot. veiny. long. it nearly looks like it’s on the wrong body, but that isn’t very true, either. it fits his body, certainly - those big hands, strong biceps, hairy chest. it just doesn’t really fit his personality.

“no one’s ever told you before, huh? how big you are?”

baron shakes his head, that wide eyed wonder forcing his brows upwards again. “‘s it too big? can - can y’take it?”

and, no, it’s not that his fingers curl up and find your sweet spot immediately when you guide him to stretch you open. or that he knows where your clit is. you can chalk it up to beginner’s luck, or maybe he’s watched a lot of vintage porn. his expression shifts again while you mewl on his lap - smile widening, like he knows something you don’t.

“am i bein’ good for ya?”

you nod, grinding down onto his lean fingers. “mhm, yeah, baron, feel so good - add another, baby, please?”

“baby,” he says, sort of laughing, all giddy. “could get used t’that.”

what really makes you think he’s not a virgin is the way his hips rut up into you when you finally get him inside.

you have the lead at first. moving your hips up and down nice and slow. letting him savor it for his first time. playing with his long hair and trying to ignore his forced out little sayings. you’re moving so slow, and you swear baron’s clenching his jaw, his eyes turning hooded instead of wide, and then he suddenly plants his feet and starts fucking up into you.

you gasp, caught entirely off guard, and baron seems surprised himself. “that right?” he drawls. “‘s it ‘kay?”

you nod, and he continues, his hands - once hold you in a soft, feather light grip - suddenly tighten. squeezing the fat of your hips roughly. not enough to bruise but enough to make you realize he’s much more confident than he comes across.

and then - the nail in the coffin - he stops speaking with that terrible accent.

you think maybe it’s just getting warbled with his pleasure until he sounds - well. sounds like any other guy you know. voice deep and soft and sweet and yet so entirely sexy while he drills you with that long cock, hitting you deep, angling his hips to keep his tip rubbing against your sweet spot.

“feel so good,” he groans, no accent detected. “ah, fuck -“

“didn’t think you swore,” you pant, brows furrowed in pleasure and a lot of skepticism.

“i - uh.” and the accent’s back. “y’just feel better’n an ice cream cone on a -“

“quit it,” you moan, bouncing down on his cock. “you’re not a virgin, are you?”

he stares for what feels like eternity. and then he shapeshifts - relaxes, his face turning soft but eyes staying dark, gaze fixed instead of dazed. and he fucks you harder, lets his hands wander, lets his fingers tangle in your hair before pulling you in for another kiss. your stomach flips and you don’t feel scared, just shocked. confused. very horny.

“i’m not supposed to do this,” he says against your lips, smooth like butter, grunting from exertion. his free hand skirts down along your side before settling at your clit, rubbing circles into it. his dark eyes bore into yours and make your skin set alight. “but - but i- i’ll be honest, sweetheart, i needed this.”

“i - i guess that -“ you gasp, tilting your forehead to rest against his. “you- you’re not a virgin, then?”

the man scoffs. “do i fuck like one?”

#stevenose posts #ns/fw #baron x reader #lol. get a load of this guy. whoever he is #marmalade spoilers

[pablitogavii]

Wsg!!!!

I was wondering if u can do another of Gavi being Obsessed w Readers boobs but make it more spicy?

Hormones

You were on your "girl days" feeling very sore and annoyed with every little thing. Pablo could quickly notice whenever you were on "these days" because you would become extra clingy begging him to baby you more so than usual.

Gavi didn't mind, he loved when you got needy, and secretly felt useful only when he could help you during your girl days. Other times, you were the most efficient and organized person he knows.

"Where is mi niña preciosa??? I'm home, amor!" Pablo came in with a bouquet of red roses interrupting your reading but you smield wide when you saw his little present.

"Are these for me, cariño???" you asked all excited as he kneeled in fornt of you placing the flowers into your lap.

"Are there any other princesas in this household???" he asked and you giggled shaking your head as he smirked proudly kissing your forehead and then your lips. That's when his eyes stole a glance of your cleavage...and dear God were they looking swollen and big!!!

Gavi felt stupid for letting his hormones control him but he couldn't stop staring at them while licking his hungry lips. It was no secret he was quite fond of your breasts, but right now it was more than liking them...he was craving them badly!!!

"Amor? Why are they so big??" Pablo asked and you looked down blushing shyly knowing that they often get like that when you were on your period due to hormones. You rarely wore tank tops during that time so Pablo never really noticed until now...and he was definitely liking it a lot!!!

"Please tell me you didn't do anything to my girls!? I like them natural and perfect!!" he said and you laughed shaking your head and secretly screaming that he liked you just the way you were...natural.

"Your girls are bigger because of my hormones right now, bebé...they swell and ache a little" you explain not expecting Pablo to snake his hand underneath your shirt and touch them ever so gently.

"Do they hurt you right now princesa???" he asks seeing you sigh in relaxation as he carefully massaged them being careful not to be rough with you right now. (there will be other times for that ;))

"Mhm..." you moaned because truth be told you also get very horny during your periods wanting all of Pablo's attention all the god damn time!!!

"Does this help, hm bebé?" he said now lifting your shirt more, moving the flowers to the side and bringing his lips to your perky nipple starting to suck on it.

"Oh P..Pablo..y..yes..p..please don't stop!!!" you moan feeling all the tension in your heavy breast being released as his skilled tongue wrapped around your nipple and his veiny hand massage around the sore areasss.

He quickly scooped you in his arms and carried you to the bedroom. After laying you down he took off your top completely as well as his own laying on top of you and continuing to suck diligently.

You were laying there completely relaxed noticing the bulge in Pablo's pants as he tried to readjust it with his hand while still giving you all the pleasure you craved.

"Um..I..I'm sorry..we can't do it a..amor.." you said in a shaking voice feeling bad that Pablo is left unsatisfied right now thinking of the ways to pay him back when the girls days end.

"Shhh..don't worry about me guapa...just relax and let me ease up the pain so you can nap" he spoke not caring about himself but getting enough pleasure knowing he was helping you right now.

"Mmmm t..they feel so good now" you said as all the soreness vanished and Pablo kissed up your neck to your lips nuzzling his face into your neck while one of his hands still held your exposed breast.

"Nap princesa...your man in right here" he whispered and you finally closed your eyes smiling wide and enjoying the way Pablo's hand felt holding your breast as his body molded into yours.

Short but spicy ;)))

#gavigif #gavi #fc barça #fc barcelona #fc barca #pablo gavi x you #pablo gavi x y/n #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi icons #pablo gavi

[dante-mightdie]

Blue-collar Simon with a frugal girlfriend. I am absolutely projecting onto this rn lmao.

A sweet little thing with a taste for shiny stuffy and pretty clothes, but an even bigger taste for money. It took one look at her from across a Chick-fil-a, witnessing her glancing over her shoulder as she grabbed a handful of sanitizing wipe packets and stuffed them into the side-pocket of her purse, for him to fall in love and ask her out right then and there.

Got him to cut down on smoking when she pointed out that a single pack of cigarettes—ten dollars—is the same price as a Costco pizza that could feed them for a minimum of two days. He doesn't quit completely, but does so less frequently and favors bumming smokes off of coworkers.

Always complains about him having a truck and how the miles per gallon is so bad. Keeps track of how much they could've saved if his pickup didn't take up so much gas. Diesel, at that.

"You know I need the flatbed for work, dove."

"You could honestly just get a car with a good MPG and hitch a trailer on the back."

He almost laughs, but swiftly shuts his mouth when he realizes that that's actually not that bad of an idea. It would make loading and unloading supplies easier, and it wouldn't force so much weight onto his rear axle.

Sixth sense for sales. Avid user of coupons. Always knows what places offer which discounts that they qualify for. Clearance aisles are the go-to. Knows when happy hour is everywhere. Avoids more expensive stores (aka Target) like the plague. Has not paid for a single piece of produce in her life; all veggies are grown by hand.

Loves to go to stores, but rarely buys anything. Simon tags along and gags at price tags with her. They both consider this a date.

On actual date nights, reader makes it clear that she does not care for gourmet restaurants or their dogshit food. Homeboy almost dropped to his knee right then and there. Peak of fanciness is Olive Garden. And even then, it's only at the location where she knows the manager from high school so they can get a discount.

In truth, they both prefer simple dates where it's just the two of them, like stuffing pillows and blankets into the back of his truck and ordering takeout while watching a movie on his laptop. She's creative, too, and Simon couldn't be more ecstatic about it. He's got his girl, food, his truck, a barely-tapped wallet, and his lil wifey bae is happy. What more could a man want?

She dresses real cute, which often has Simon wondering where she gets her clothes bc she almost never gets things when they go shopping together.

"Those new?"

"The pants? Yeah. They were like... seven dollars, I think."

"Where'd you get those for seven?"

"Shein."

"Ah."

Yeah she does not give a single shit about name brands. If it looks good, feels good, and is cheap—it's hers. Could not care less about Nike n shit.

Simon ofc feels a little bad about not being able to spoil her, but lemme tell you when money is an object—it is very much preferred that it be regarded as such. There is nothing more attractive than a financially responsible man.

In the beginning of their relationship, Simon once tried to be that guy and got her an accessory that she'd been admiring. It was pretty, but all broke girls will understand when I say that the want for something DIES if it's overpriced. Gone. As if it were never there. So he was a little shocked when he surprised her with it a few weeks later and her face dropped. Like genuine existential dread just plastered on her face, clear as day.

She told him that she really didn't want it after she saw how expensive it was, but he insists that she deserves a few luxuries. Only problem is, he begins to notice how overwhelmed with guilt she becomes when she sees it. She hardly ever wears it, and she really doesn't mean to be dismissive of Simon's generosity—but she just can't help but feel buyer's remorse any time she remembers it exists. It makes her feel terrible, and all she can think about is how much better the money for it could've been spent. When Simon realizes that and returns it, it's like a weight is lifted from her shoulders. Gave him THE sloppiest head that night. Besides, she prefers Simon's pearl necklace more than any other piece of jewelry.

He's smart enough now to know that money really doesn't buy her happiness. She's so perfectly content with her way of life. It also reassures him that she wouldn't ever entertain the idea of opting for a man with money to waste. Not when she's found someone who gets her and her reluctance of spending like Simon does.

absolutely adores a financially responsible girl! doing everything you can to make sure you two can live comfortably

watches you note down recipes that you can batch make and freeze to save money, no wastage in this household! simon will never complain when you say its leftovers for dinner

he's just such a simple man but in the best way possible. nothing gets him harder than walking into the kitchen to see you cutting up vouchers for the groceries

except maybe watching you haggle with someone. he took you to a market once and watched you talk a vendor down from £50 to £10 when he pointed out a hoodie that he liked

fucked you so good that night you walked funny for days <3

used to smoke straights but when you told him how much cheaper it is to roll his own cigarettes, he hasn't looked back since

IKEA dates. loves walking hand in hand with you around the large store, talking about how you're gonna decorate the house he's gonna buy you someday

doesn't miss the little smile that flicks across your face when he shakes his head at the bookcase you point out,

"£100? I can make you tha' for half the price, lovie..."

#mw2 #ghost #simon ghost riley #cod mw2 #simon riley #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #bluecollar!simon

[mrzombielover]

- slow ride ch2

feat. sinner!adam x fem!hotel worker!reader

previous chapter || series masterlist || next chapter (wip)

warnings: NSFW, more substance use in this one, a bit of angst?, readers emotional issues

a/n: i feel like my writing sucks esp in this chapter cause im sorta rusty and sick so i cant even tell if this makes sense but oh well😭😭😭 anyway pls send me hazbin reqs!!!!! having the worst brainrot lately esp for this horrible man!!!

wc: 2.9k

“I'm not breaking up inside / I'm much to proud to moan / Baby, please come home”

Oh my god. What did I just do? Why did I do this?

You turn your head to look at Adam where he’s lying on the other side of the bed, and find his expression closely mirrors your own. Pure disbelief is written on his features, and you grimace, turning to look back at the ceiling.

After a moment, you sit up, grabbing your box of cigarettes and a lighter off your bedside table. Once lit, you swing your feet off the bed to reach for shirt and now ripped panties, standing up when you’re partially dressed. You hear Adam sit up behind you.

“Soo, that was… uhhh…” He trails off, mouth hanging open as he thinks of what to say.

“Let’s… not speak about this again,” You say carefully as you turn back to face him.

“Yeah. yeah, i’m good with that,” He says quickly, finding his robes off the floor. You’re surprised he doesn’t say anything about the smoke.

You cross the room to get your pants off the floor, pulling them up as Adam grabs his jacket. You pull up your fly, and look up to see Adam’s staring at you with an expression you can’t read. His eyes flicker to your lips, and he starts to lean closer.

“Kiss me and i’ll cut your fuckin’ tongue out,” you say as you turn your head away.

“Oookay then. I’ll, uh, see ya,” For once, he has no snarky comment or crude joke to make as he straightens up and leaves your room.

After that, you told yourself never again. It happened once, it’s out of your system, it’s done. A one time thing.

But then it happens a second time.

“It’s a disgusting habit! All your clothes, your whole room fuckin’ reeks!”

“Are you tryin’ to get me to loose my temper here? ‘Cause i’m about to shove you out that fucking window!”

“And look how angry you get, you fucking fiend, it’s been like 2 hours!”

“Why don’t you mind your goddamn business?”

You raise an arm to hit him, but he catches your elbow, twisting you around so your back is to him and he can hold you in place. You struggle to break from his grip, when suddenly-

“Oh my god,” You deadpan, but your voice doesn’t come out as disgusted as you expected at the feeling of something hard poking into your lower back.

“Okay, this is not my fault-“ Adam says quickly.

“You- fucking perv!” You spit, but your words hold no weight when he flips you again and lifts you up, placing you on the counter and you make no effort to struggle. You spread your legs so he can slot between them as items pushed out of the way cascade off the counter, falling to the floor with loud crashes.

You then told yourself that would be the last time. But not even you fully believed yourself. And once it happened a third, fourth, and fifth time, you just accepted this is something that happens now. You’re not proud of it- some of you hates yourself, but another part of you finds a a sick, primal pleasure in it. It’s the only guaranteed way for you to get him to shut up, if only for a few minutes. The fight for dominance- fuuck you’re messed up, huh?

Thinking of the humiliation you’d feel if any of the others found out- oh god, how could you look Alastor in the eyes again- you change absolutely nothing about your behavior around Adam. On the surface, nothing has changed at all. You two still bicker and argue all the time, if anything, worse than ever. Yet the other members can feel something’s up, that something changed. Adam’s insults feel more hollow. He always said shit just to rile you up, but there was usually an undertone of truth to his words. Not anymore- it’s all stupid shit that everybody can tell he doesn’t care about. Nobody says anything about it, though, until-

“What the fuck are you smilin’ for?” Angel’s voice makes Adam jump as he enters, sitting down on the couch beside him.

“What-? I wasn’t smiling,” Adam quickly denies. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh my god- are you’re gettin’ laid?” Angel grins, sitting up. The look on Adam’s face tells him everything, and he can’t help but laugh. “Oh, you so are! No wonder you’ve been in such a good mood lately,”

“Uh, duh i’m getting laid, I’m Adam, I’m the origin-“

“Yeah, yeah, original dick. But that’s not what I mean and you know it.” Angel grins widely, and Adam can feel his face heating up. Oh god- why is he blushing? Since when does he care? He pushes the thought from his head.

“…You don’t know her,” Adam decides to say, crossing his arms and turning back to face the TV, hoping Angel will just leave it at that.

“Try me,” Angel leans closer, looking intently at Adam’s expression. When Adam says nothing, Angel laughs again.

“Oh my god I so know her,”

Adam grits his teeth but says nothing as Angel laughs.

“Okay, fine, don’t tell me who you’re havin’ weird secret kinky sex with,” Angel shrugs, turning to face the TV. “I’ll find out eventually,”

That makes Adam sweat.

You can’t help but laugh, nearly spitting whisky everywhere while Husk chuckles to himself. Sure, it’s a bit trite, ranting to the bartender about your shitty day while he pours you a stiff drink, but Husk could always make you laugh about it, and call you out on your bullshit if needed. He was real, and you liked that about him. Plus, it beat drinking alone when none of your other friends wanted to party on a Wednesday.

“-and not a crazy bitch like I’m a crazy bitch, crazy like she lit her mom’s hair on fir-“

“Husk holy shit!”

Both of you look in the direction of Angel Dust’s voice as he runs from the hallway towards you both. He leans over the bar, eager to share whatever news he had.

“Adam’s fucking somebody- somebody here!”

You choke on your whisky, spitting it back into the glass. Angel and Husk both look at you with a raised brow.

“My bad,” is all you say. you can’t think of anything else that would play it off, so you just quietly wipe off your face while Angel recounts his encounter with Adam. You feel an eye twitch- you could strangle that prick for being so conspicuous.

“You’re quiet, Y/N,” Angel says in a teasing tone.

“I just could not care less if I tried,” You say back, firmly but with a shrug, and you hope it suffices as an acceptable explanation, and that you come off as your usual apathetic self. You finish your whisky, and luckily, Angel doesn’t give you any more shit. Slightly unsettled by that interaction, you avoid Adam for the next few days.

Late one evening, everybody’s gone up to their rooms and the hotel is quiet. You’ve already eaten, smoked, brushed your teeth and put on pajamas, but there’s nothing good on TV and you’re bored and high and just want a task to keep busy. So you wander aimlessly into the kitchen and find yourself doing the dishes that Charlie was too stressed out to do earlier.

As you scrub brown charred bits off a pan, you find your stupid weed-addled brain wandering to Adam. You haven’t fought with him in a while, mostly because you’d run away before he had the chance to start, but still. It feels weird, being so calm lately. No wonder you’re bored. It’s the way things used to be at the hotel, before he arrived. You guess you hadn’t realized how used to his presence you’ve gotten. Gross. You cringe at the thought.

Luckily, your phone starts to vibrate on the counter, giving you a distraction. You pick up and hold it between your ear and shoulder without looking at the caller ID.

“Yo, where are you right now?”

Of course.

“Adam? What the fuck, when did you get a phone?” You snort. When you realize you’re smiling you clear your throat and force your face to relax.

“Whatever. Can you come upstairs?”

You pause. He sounds slightly odd.

“What, like, to your room?” You raise an eyebrow. “Why?”

“ohmyfuckinggod- can you not be difficult for fucking once and just do what I ask?” Then, as an afterthought, he adds “Please?”

Damn, okay. You don’t say anything for a moment, thinking maybe you’re just smacked and he’s being normal.

“Suuuure… Just uh, gimme a minute,” You say carefully, putting the dishes down. Then, he hangs up on you. What a dick.

Unbeknownst to you, while you’ve been thinking about him, he’s been thinking about you way more.

You’ve been avoiding him- obviously. Not unexpected, but it pissed him off to no end. He’s fucking Adam! Who are you to ignore him? Aren’t you supposed to be keeping an eye on him, anyway?

By now, the others have started to accept him- including them in their plans, drinking with him, no longer leaving a room when he enters- so he doesn’t really need a chaperone anymore. Despite this, it still feels wrong. Even in a room with every other patron of the hotel, he’d started to notice when you weren’t there.

He didn’t even notice he was starting to miss you at first. It wasn’t until he and Charlie were seated at the bar, and he drank more than he probably should have, that he mentioned you were avoiding him.

“What’dya, miss her?” Husk asked.

“Awww, Adam!” He still remembers the look on her and Husker’s faces. “You are starting to change! That’s so sweet of you!”

And then because she was drunk she kept rambling about it for like 30 minutes, but he doesn’t remember the rest of what she said, just the utter humiliation he felt. He shut up for the rest of the night to avoid spilling his guts any more, but Husk- the annoying fucker- still gives him knowing looks every now and then.

And after Nifty had washed his sheets, and he’d noticed that his pillows lost the scent of cigarettes, perfume, and shampoo you’d left behind, he knew he was royally fucked.

The worst of all, though, is that he feels helpless to feeling these emotions- and even worse, he doesn’t want to stop feeling them. Before he’d even noticed it, he was thinking about you all the time, and he was fine with it. The embarrassment was killing him, even though, supposedly, nobody knew.

On this particular night, he’d probably had just a tad too much beer with his dinner, because when he’d returned to his room and flopped on his bed, there was a little bug in the back of his brain that kept whining about how empty it felt. He tossed and turned for a bit, just wanting to sleep it off, but he eventually gave up, reaching for his phone.

“Adam?” Before you’re finished knocking, Adam jumps up to get the door, pulling you inside quickly. You make a noise of surprise as he scoops you up immediately, not saying anything as he carries you to his bed.

“Damn, needy, huh?” You laugh. This time, it’s him telling you to shut up as he tosses you onto the bed and crawls over you.

You sit up slightly to help him get your shirt off, and then his lips are on your neck, trailing down to your chest as he unclips your bra.

“Haven’t seen you in a while,” He says with a casual shrug as his hands run up your torso to grope at your tits.

“mm,” You hum, arching your back into his touch. “missed this?” You smile sarcastically. Missed you, he thinks.

“Sure missed these,” He pushes the thought away and grins back, squeezing your chest for emphasis. He pulls back briefly to rid himself of his own shirt, then bends back down to press more kisses to your flesh. He looks up, staring at your expression as he takes one of your nipples in his mouth, reveling in the whimper he’s rewarded with.

“fuckin’ perfect tits…” He mumbles into your chest before nipping at your skin. You let your eyes shut as his free hand slides down, under the band of your shorts and his finger brushes the hot skin beneath, skimming over your lips. Adam thumbs at your clit through your panties, relishing in the whine he rips from your throat.

Impatiently, you shift your hips up to slide off your shorts and panties, then reach to tug at his belt loops to signal he should do the same. When he looks up and sees the desperate look on your face, he decides not to keep you waiting, and pulls back to rip off his pants and boxers.

You guess avoiding him these past few days has affected you, too, because you’re surprisingly desperate. You sit up, wrapping your fingers around his cock, smearing his arousal across his length, and whatever he had been planning to say dies and comes out a needy garble of nonsense that makes you snicker.

To your surprise, he has no quip as he crawls over you and pushes himself between your legs. He bites back a gasp when you rub the head of his cock between your folds, a groan following a moment after as he begins pushing into you.

Your thighs are trembling by the time he’s fully inside of you, and you wrap your legs around his waist weakly while you adjust to the stretch.

He sits up fully, and from this view, you look stunning. The way you're laid back on his pillow, tears pricking in your eyes, he thinks you look more angelic than anything he ever saw in heaven.

“fuuuck,” He groans, letting his head fall onto the bed as he starts to move his hips.

“Adam!” The way you whine his name is truly sinful, and he feels his dick twitch in response.

“holyfuck, ‘s so big,” The slight burn makes you regret your impatience now, and his face makes you regret stroking his ego. You make a point to ignore his self satisfied laugh, focusing instead on how his cock stretched you open, making you to tighten and release around him. You turn your head, looking at his wicked fucked-out smile that grew wider and wider as his movements got deeper.

You can’t speak, you just moan helplessly as your hands search for anything to grab onto to steady yourself. You throw your hands around his neck and bury them in his now dark wings, in the way you always did. You gripped the feathers tightly and let out a moan and oh, god, he’s not going to last long, he thinks, with you gripping the sensitive feathers like that. He groans again, then his lips find your shoulder, where he leaves messy, open-mouthed kisses trailing towards your neck.

“so fuckin’ sexy, so, so good for me,” you barley even register that he’s speaking, with your entire focus being on the way he moved in and out of you.

“you’re- so beautiful,” he says between grunts. your eyes widen.

“wha-ahh-“ before you can question that, a particularly hard thrust makes the words die in your throat, and you’re clawing to his biceps again.

A warmth of pride erupts in your chest at the way his breathing has turned labored and his grip on you tightens. An arm snakes around your waist, the other under your head, pulling you impossibly tighter against him as he continues to desperately pound into you. The proud smirk you wore is wiped off your face when you feel one hand releases you and his hand trails down, eventually pressing a thumb your clit, rubbing small circles that make you moan and twitch beneath him.

You can’t even warn him before your whole body erupts. You spill over, you lose sense of where and who you are, all the while, Adam pounds into you, strokes you inside and out. You vaguely hear a sudden crash and him mumbling, thanking god that you came before him because seconds later, he’s spilling his own cum inside you with a broken wanton groan.

Adam stills for a moment, panting as he holds you close. When he rolls off you, he keeps one arm around you, pulling you against his chest. Huh. That’s new.

Neither of you say anything. That was… different, than you’re used to with him. You furrow your brows as you think, and find yourself confused. The cogs in your head turning something terrible in your mind, questioning his intentions.

Once you’ve caught your breath, you sit up, pushing away his arm as you go to find your clothes. He frowns, watching you pick your shirt up from the ground and pull it over your head. You looked guarded, like a cornered doe, like you were just waiting for the chance to sprint away.

Adam grabs his own boxers from the floor and pulls them on, quickly crossing the room to where you were. He looks down at you, and feels an odd, tightening in his chest, something he’s felt a lot since falling to hell.

He leans against the door, putting on a cocky smile.

“Soo… this was like a booty call, huh?”

“…Yeah, whatever. See ya,”

#i am SO out of practice writing smut holy shit this is so bad #took me fucking forever too #but hey i’m sick so i have a lot of time to write! #also i promise the next one won’t end immediately after the smut like these last two 😭 i’ve got the plot more figured out now #adam x reader #first man adam x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #!my stuff #!not sfw #first man adam #hazbin hotel adam #female reader

[sttoru]

i think toji would definitely tease reader about her oral fixation… like he would take his c*ck out but won’t let reader suck it and shit lollllll

DO NOT TOUCH

sypnosis. toji decides to not let you have your way this time: no touching or sucking him off until he allows you to.

note. anon.. you’re sooo right, this started off as a drabble but it quickly turned into more than that mannnne toji fr got me in a chokehold istg, hope u enjoy though cus i added some more stuff + this is not proof read so excuse any bad grammar mwah

tags. dom!toji x female reader. age gap (reader early 20s, toji 30s), pwp, implied blow jobs, teasing, male masturbation, cum play, dirty talk, reader gets called ‘princess, little girl, doll,’ toji’s a real meanie :>

all you wanted was to give toji what he deserved after a long day at work: a good and stress-relieving blow job. you’ve always enjoyed pleasuring your lover since it gave you the satisfaction you longed for; to have his cock deep inside your mouth, sucking and slobbering all over it while his low groans and grunts filled the room.

and yet, there you were now, sitting on your knees in front of toji whose green eyes were glued to the television instead. there was a subtle, lopsided grin on his face as he acted like he didn’t seem to care about what you were needing to do.

that man knows how much you like to suck him off. you’d do it whenever toji gave you the chance—which was almost every other day. he can never say ‘no’ to your desperate begging and especially not if those pleas involve your nasty desires to satisfy him. it made you look kind of pathetic, but the good kind. the kind of pathetic that made toji’s cock swell in his pants.

on most days, he would let you get to work immediately and shove his cock all the way into your wet mouth, though today was different. toji stopped you mid-way before you could have any physical contact with his dick that was now on display—pre-cum just begging to get licked off.

toji told you to have some patience and let him finish the show he was watching. it wasn’t even a show he was interested in; he just used that excuse to tease you as you sat there, wiggling and squirming impatiently between his legs.

“toji, please?” you pout as you nudge his thick thigh, feeling the muscles tense up ever so slightly, “can i? please?”

“no is no, princess.” toji mutters absentmindedly, one of his hands starting to stroke his hard cock in deliberate movements, “let me watch my show and i’ll consider y’r offer afterwards, yeah?”

toji’s thumb slid over the tip, rubbing the slit a bit, spreading the leaking pre over the flesh while he continued to act like he was watching the boring show. truth be told, that man had been looking at you through his peripheral vision this entire time.

toji loved torturing you in such ways. it brings him the greatest of satisfaction since he’s able to witness how desperate you could get if he didn’t allow you to suck him off.

his elbow was propped against the back of the couch, head leaning on one hand while the other continued to touch his cock in painfully slow motions as if toji wanted to let you see every single detail— from how his cock twitched in his hand to the way his calloused fingers were gliding over the length.

“such a good little girl,” toji whispers in a low tone, eyes flickering down to look at you. you were so focused on his cock, mouth watering and eyes seemingly in a trance which you couldn’t break free from, “y’re patient, ain’t ya? i wonder if you can keep that up ‘til i finish.”

you shake your head twice and look up at toji with a pout, “wanna taste it, please? wanna have you cum down my throat.”

your dirty talk never fails to rile toji up, however the need to tease you overwhelmed his desires of letting you have your way. as much as toji wants to see you swallow all of his hot cum while your mouth was still stuffed full of his length, he also wants to see your yearning and powerless self.

“what if i don’t let ya?” toji mocks, using his free hand to lift your chin up, thumb rubbing over the skin so you could stare him, “what if i wanna cum on that pretty face of yours instead?”

his green orbs darkened a bit as the image of your cum-covered facial features flashed before his eyes. toji speeds up the pace and starts to jerk himself off even faster, wanting to make that imagination of his a reality. toji doesn’t care in the slightest that you were trying to sugarcoat him into letting you fulfill your own needs;

“mhm, but i wanna taste you.” you mumble as your gaze falls back down on toji’s fat cock, the tip swollen and the skin of it moving back and forth simultaneously with his hand motions.

toji simply grins at you. you were so insistent and demanding, yet also looked extremely submissive and powerless on your knees for him. it was cute to see you try and act like you were the one who orders him around.

“is that an indirect order that i hear, little girl?” toji hums in amusement as the fingers of his free hand brush over your lips, “i hope it isn’t, because i’ll do what i want.”

a small pause intensifies the tension between you two— the clash of desires visible in both of your lust-filled eyes. the older man licks his lips whilst scanning your appearance, his focus lingering on your small hands that were resting on his thighs, nails slightly digging into the skin to prevent them from reaching out to grab his dick and put it in your mouth.

toji would’ve never guessed that you’d be this needy for him when he met you a couple months ago. in his mind you were this younger, shy and innocent-looking girl that seemed like she didn’t have much experience in the sexual department. little did he know that the shyest people had the wildest thoughts.

“and what i want right now,” toji finally continues as he felt the pleasure building up to its peak, “is to cum on your face.”

protests were about to spill from your lips, however there was no time to do so as toji roughly held your face in place— grunting and groaning your name as his entire body tensed up to reach that release, “fuckkk— ‘m gonna cum whether ya like it or not.”

the moment you shut your eyes tightly, is also the moment it happens; you felt spurts of hot cum spill and coat your face entirely. the sticky fluid dribbled down your forehead, nose, cheeks and chin.

toji breathed heavily, chest heaving and dick still twitching as the long ropes of cum turn into small drops that trail down his length. and as expected: finishing all over your face was definitely worth it.

“lick it off, doll.” toji commands through a mean grin and you instantly do as told. you stick your tongue out, gather any cum that got on your lips and the corners of your mouth before using your finger to collect all that’s left over.

“that’s enough of a reward for ya.” the older man adds as he quickly grabs a tissue from the nearby coffee table to clean the mess between his legs—not even giving you one since the scene in front of him was too pretty to erase.

toji lifts his boxers back up, sighs in relief and focuses back on the television screen with a bored expression. you frown as you licked the last bits off your fingers and helplessly tug at toji’s boxers; a futile attempt to get his attention back. toji wasn’t going to give you any of it until he decides to.

and right now, all he cares about is catching small glimpses of your pretty, cum-covered face every now and then. your lover had zero intentions of allowing you to suck him off. in fact, he might even start masturbating to the sight of you once more, just to tease and drive you insane;

“how ‘bout i cum on your tits this time?”

maybe he’ll stuff your mouth full afterwards. just maybe.

#sttoru writes. #jjk smut #toji smut #jjk x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro smut #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen #toji x you

[raphael-angele]

How I imagine Bianca if she lived:

One name: Bernadette Rostenkowksi Wolowitz

During Capture the Flag:

Bianca, yelling at Percy as they run: Go! Go! Go! Go! Go! Go! Go!

Percy: *panting*

Bianca: How am I faster than you?! I'm carrying more equipment and I stopped to tie my shoes!

Percy: I have asthma...BACK OFF!

---

Coming back from the Titan's Curse Mission:

Nico: Bia! *runs to her and hugs her*

Bianca: *hugs him back* Hey. *pulls away and looks at him* How was camp?

Nico: It was awesome! We did wood carving, and made smores, and I learned how to make a fire, Travis and Conner even let me join Capture the Flag

Bianca, who made them promise not to let Nico join CtF until he's trained and claimed:

Nico: :)

Bianca: That's nice. Why don't you go back to the Cabin and we'll talk about the mission.

Nico: Mkay :)

Bianca, walking up to Travis and Conner: You better explain to me why you chose to ignore my instructions about my little brother joining that game, cuz one way or another, I'm gonna leave grieving for a friend.

---

Leo, opening the door:

Bianca: You son of a bitch. What did you tell Nico?! Did you tell him that there's something going on between us because he thinks there is and he is completely freaking out!

Leo:

Leo: Please, come in.

Bianca: What in Hades is wrong with you?! Leo, my position as a Hunter could be compromised! I could get into a lot of trouble!

Leo: Wha- I didn't say that there was something going on between us. I said that you were always so nice to me, it would be nice to be with someone like you.

Bianca: I'M NICE TO EVERYONE!

Leo: I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said it that way

Bianca: Damn right you are. You tell my little brother that there is nothing, never has been, and never will be anything between us.

Leo: I will...hey, Bianca?

Bianca: What?!

Leo: You think I have a shot with Thalia?

Bianca: Of course, you do! You're a sweetheart! Any girl would be lucky to have you! *leaves and slams the door*

---

After Leo "died":

Percy and Jason fighting:

Jason: For the last time, I didn't mean to!

Percy: Oh, you didn't mean to? I'll show you what-

Bianca: HEY! Percy, Jason, other room, right now!

*other room*

Bianca: I don't know what you think you're doing but this is a very difficult time for the lot of us. We're doing this in honor of Leo and you're just gonna fight all night like a couple of children? What ever it is you're fighting about, put it aside, go back in there, and be a good friend or there's no dessert for either of you!

*main room*

Nico:

Hazel:

Frank:

Piper:

Thalia:

Reyna:

Bianca: Look at me when I'm talking to you-

Hazel, whispering to Nico: You ever notice how Bianca sounds just like dad?

Nico: ...nope

---

Hazel: Bianca, you've been to Olympus, right? On your first mission? What did it look like?

Bianca: Oh, it was beautiful. I looked down and it like it was like looking at a whole different world...if I could, I would've wiped it all out with my thimb like a God.

Hazel:

---

One summer: Hazel, Annabeth and Bianca decide to go to Disney World

Annabeth: Okay, so there's this place on Disney World where you pick your princess, they give you the hair, the makeup, the works. Haven't tried it before but I guess it would be fun to be Belle

Hazel: Oh, I wanna be Belle, too

Bianca: We can't all be Belle.

Annabeth: Alright then, how do we decide?

Bianca: Simple. This was my idea, I'm paying for it, I'm Belle. You bitches got a problem with that, we can go back to Camp right now.

---

Bianca: When was the last time you got any sleep?

Nico, figuring out a procephy: I don't know, two-three days? Not important. I don't need sleep. I need answers. I need to determine where in this SWAMP of unbalanced forces squatteth the toad of truth.

Hazel: Toad of truth? Is that a Greek thing?

Will: No, that's a sleep deprived thing.

Bianca: Okay, Nico. What happens to our brains if we don't get enough sleep?

Nico: They lose their ability to function and be rational?

Bianca: Exactly. So go march in there, go take a shower and get some sleep.

Nico: But I don't wanna go to sleep!

Bianca: I'm gonna count to three. One-

Nico: *sneers* Alright. *goes*

Will:

Hazel:

Will: Please teach me how you did that

Bianca: I raised him. I know how to get him to eat his vegetables, too.

---BONUS---

Taking Bianca to the drop off where she'll meet with the other hunters:

Bianca: Thank you for coming along to see me off, William

Will: Of course. Just wanna make sure you get there safe

Nico: Yeah, you'll get plenty of time looking for a new boy toy.

Bianca: Hey. I will not have you disrespecting me

Nico: Yes, ma'am

Will:

Will: Nico, you have a very attractive sister. You need to get used to the fact that even though she's vowed not to be in a relationship, she'll have plenty of suitors who would want to have her as their partner.

Nico: And you need to mind your own business

Will: Wha- I will not have you disrespecting me

Nico: You don't tell me what to do

Bianca: Don't you go disrespecting him

Nico: Yes, ma'am.

Bianca, to Will: You'll get there, you just gotta put some zing on it.

#pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #bianca di angelo #nico di angelo #incorrect quotes #percy jackson #thalia grace #hazel levesque #leo valdez #will solace #solangelo #tbbt #source: the big bang theory #the big bang theory #source: tbbt #bernadette rostenkowski

[iamasimperyk]

Can professor rafe be a series of fics I love it ! It’s gotta be my favorite image him being jealous and he doesn’t give you the time a day since they fucked and he sees guys approaching y/n even getting turned on by her since she’s a flirt when she talks but doesn’t notice and rafe gets jealous and tells y/n to stay but she’s like mmm no thanks because now rafe gonna be the one having to go after her if he wants her

Thank you so much for your request💕 I already thought about making this into a series or at least write more one shots for this trope. So, if you have more ideas tell me all of them🤭I hope you like what I have made out of your request!

Regrets

Warnings: Cursing, Mentions of sex, Mention of sexual acts, Angst, Fluff, Not proof-read, English is not my first language

Pairing: Professor!Rafe x Fem!Reader

How could you have been so stupid? Of course, Rafe ignored you since your last encounter, just like last time. Even if your crush on Rafe was big, you didn't want to be his fuck toy just for him to use whenever he wanted.

You started to ignore Rafe the same way he ignored you. During lectures, you focused and ran out of the classroom as quickly as possible when it was over.

You started to attend more parties and got to know some people—mostly boys. They desperately tried to get your attention, but you were too nice and pure to even notice. For you, they were nothing but nice and chill.

"Come on, give it back to me." You giggled, jumping up and down to snatch your book out of Lucas' hand.

You met Lucas and his friends at a party, and ever since then, you have been a part of their friend group.

"Mmm, Y/n/n, I think you are too short." He snickered and held your book up a little bit higher than before."

"Not true. Not everyone can be a giant like you." You tried to jump higher, your skirt rising up more, almost exposing your panties.

Lucas handed you the book and sat down before he pulled you onto his lap.

"Ey, she already sat on your lap this morning," Nick, another one of the group, spoke up.

"It's my turn. I couldn't even bring Y/n/n to one of her lectures today." A third one answered.

Before anyone else could say something you decided to speak up, "Boys, it's okay, there is enough for everyone."

You couldn't help but giggle. Everything was nothing but a big joke to you, and in your opinion, the boys were just acting silly.

-------

Rafe felt pure anger when he saw how close you got to those boys. He couldn't believe you were too dumb to notice how whipped all of them were for you. They wanted to get in your pants, and you didn't even notice, always wearing those short little skirts and giggling like a bimbo.

But why would he care? He had a wife and a child. Whatever the two of you had was meaningless. Right?

At least, that was what he tried to tell himself, but the truth was, he was jealous. He never had been more jealous in his entire life. He had to have you.

"Ms. Y/l/n, please see me in my office in 5 minutes." He said in a strict tone as he walked past the group of friends.

------

"What does Cameron want?" Liam, another boy, asked curious.

You just shrugged and stood up, taking your bag, "I have no idea. I will see you guys later."

You waved them goodbye before you made your way over to Rafe's office.

After you knocked, Rafe was quick to open the door and locked it after you entered.

"What do you want?" You asked a little annoyed.

"Who are your new friends?" Rafe rolled his eyes, sitting down in his leather chair.

You let out a little sigh, "I don't think that's any of your concern."

"Oh, but it is. You see, I thought things through. I want you, Y/n." Rafe admitted, looking straight into her eyes.

You let out a little laugh, "I wanted you too, but you fucked me, and then you ignored me, and then you did other sexual things with me, and then you ignored me again."

"I am sorry. What do you want me to say?" He raised his voice a little.

"You have a family. I suggest you live your life, and I will live mine," You mumbled, "I will see you tomorrow, Mr. Cameron."

You left the room, and a little tear ran down your cheek, which you wiped away quickly.

For the first time, you were the one to leave Rafe, and to be honest, it felt good.

------

Rafe was shocked. His whole life, Rafe had always got what he wanted. This was the first time someone rejected him. He had to make a decision— you or his family. But deep down, Rafe already knew who he was going to pick.

That was how Rafe found himself in front of your dorm at 3. a.m.

You opened the door, letting out a yawn, "It's 3 o'clock what is so-" You immediately stopped talking when you saw who stood in front of you.

"Hi," He scratched the back of his head, "I am really sorry, Y/n. Please let me explain everything."

You wanted nothing more than to be angry but had always been a person to forgive easily.

"I hope your explanation is good enough to prevent me from sleeping." You mumble and let him in, glad your roommate slept at her boyfriend's.

"Oh, and I brought you some chocolate." He smiled a little, holding out the bag.

"I hate chocolate," You told him, sitting down on your bed, "Did you make sure no one saw you?"

He nodded, setting the back down with a sigh, "As I said, I am sorry how I treated you."

"Yeah, you already told me that a few times." You crossed your arms in front of your chest.

"My marriage has not been easy the past years. When I saw you for the first time, I immediately knew I had to have you. But it was wrong in so many ways, the age gap, the fact that I have a wife and a child." He started, sitting down on the bed as well.

"After I fucked you, it didn't know what to do anymore. I cheated on my wife, but I didn't regret it. I tried to ignore you, don't ask me why, maybe I was scared or just stupid, I don't know. Then you teased me during lecture, and I lost control over myself once again."

"That doesn't explain why you are here." You interrupted, fiddling with your fingers.

"I know, princess. After I saw you with those boys, I knew you wouldn't wait forever. I had to make a decision between you and a marriage I wasn't happy in. Y/n, I feel young with you, free, happy. It's risky and won't be easy but I want you." He cupped your cheeks.

You stared at him with wide eyes, "Oh my god. I destroyed your marriage."

Rafe quickly shook his head, "No, love. You just helped me do something I should have done a long time ago."

"But your child-" He interrupted you, "She would like you."

You had no words. Rafe wanted to be with you, for real this time.

"How do I know you won't ignore me once again tomorrow?" You asked, looking into his blue eyes.

"I guess you have to trust me one last time." He mumbled before he leaned in to kiss you.

"One last time, Rafe." You answered and closed the gap between the two of you.

After you pulled away, you smiled at him, "It's Saturday, can you stay with me?"

He nodded, "Of course, princess."

"And, Rafe?"

"Yes?"

"Could you pass me the chocolate?"

Rafe let out a chuckle. Of course.

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe x you #rafe x reader #rafe x y/n #rafe cameron #angst #fluff #fanfic #obx #outer banks #outer banks x you #outer banks x reader #outer banks x y/n #outerbanks rafe #professor!rafe cameron #professor rafe cameron

[bimbobaggins69]

wanna try something?

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

summary: you and Eddie have been dating for a few months on top of a year long fwb situation, and an even longer friendship. You’ve tried almost everything together, that is until you stumble upon the x rated section in family video and are instantly drawn to a tape of something you never thought you’d be into.

warnings: smut ahead, 18+ mdni, queer!eddie, mentions of steddie, small mention of internalized homophobia, no use of y/n, use of pet names: baby, princess, sweet girl etc.), oral (m receiving), anal play (m receiving).

notes: I have been wanting to write a fic about Eddie’s bussy forever so… when I got the urge I had to do it. Also, the pictures have almost nothing to do with this fic, aside from the vhs’s, believe it or not finding an aesthetic for eating ass is very difficult. Also also, thank you to my love @take-everything-you-can for beta reading <333

wc: 3.2k

The sound of lips smacking is all that can be heard in the empty air of Eddie’s trailer, the shitty horror movie playing in the background quickly forgotten and the booming sound coming from the speakers are quickly becoming white noise as you moan and pant into each other's mouths.

This was usually how it went; you’d both agree to have a “movie night” just to totally forget about said movie and go straight to attacking each other's lips while hands and mouths explore different body parts.

You’d both been together for 3 months now after a year of being friends with benefits and before that just childhood best friends.

It felt nice to have sex with someone you knew would never judge you or make you do things you didn’t want to, Eddie was so selfless not only in the bedroom but all the time, it’s one of the many things you adored about him.

The sex was mind blowing between you two, like you were made for each other. The first night you lost your virginity to Eddie he had looked over at you while trying to catch his breath to say “why haven’t we always been doing this?”

The truth is, you had more than friendly feelings for Eddie for years, but for most of his teens he was grappling with his sexuality, you were the only one he opened up to about it. He wasn’t sure if he was straight at all or even liked girls. He kept this a secret but the only crush Eddie had seemed to have on any girl was you, and since he felt like he couldn’t have you, he didn’t want any other. So, he decided to explore that other side of him.

But once you started to show interest in him. The longing stares, the way your eyes would flicker to his lips and the way you’d say his name, was all he needed to know you felt the same way.

So after a long night filled with sexual tension, Eddie made his move and kissed you, he took your virginity that night and it was the most mind blowing sex he’d ever had. He decided at that moment that sex is better with someone you love.

You’d both played stubborn for a year, never wanting to fully let your feelings be known, so you decided a friends with benefits situation would be best.

That was until Eddie couldn’t hold back his feelings any longer, he needed you to know he was madly in love with you and didn’t want anyone else, ever.

So now after a year of the dirtiest, raunchiest, roughest sex, there was pretty much nothing you both hadn’t done together, you were open minded to anything Eddie wanted to try with you: choking, hair pulling, some face smacking and him cuffing you to his bed, are just a few.

There really wasn’t anything Eddie could come to you with that you’d shoot down, giving him another reason to be head over heels about you.

But, you still felt like there were things you could improve on or maybe new things to be learned, so after one of your many solo trips to family video, you decided to check out the X rated section.

You looked both ways before quickly swinging the red velvet curtain open and quickly shutting it behind you, as if you were on some top secret mission.

Your fingertips glided along the numerous dirty videos, looking for anything that caught your eye.

You stopped abruptly, your fingertip halting on a tape that made your eyes widen and your thighs clench.

The title of the video made you scoff, ‘along comes likki’ with a very dirty picture of a man bent over and a girl's face shoved in his ass.

You and Eddie had never done ass stuff before and the thought of having him under your complete control, if even for a minute was making your panties dampen.

You wanted to give Eddie the same blissed out face the man on the cover had.

So you discreetly put your goonies tape over it and shoved them both under your arm.

You walk up to the register and it’s just your luck that Robin had taken her break and Steve was the one that would be ringing you up. You had known all about his and Eddie’s relationship, if you could even call it that. They had fucked and then after Steve had pushed Eddie away and told him that it would never happen again and that he wasn’t gay, even though Eddie had opened up to him and explained that he knew he liked men and women, told Steve it was called bisexuality and Steve seemed very interested in the prospect only to after push Eddie away and basically call him gay, totally negating everything they had opened up to each other about. It had definitely hurt him and you were there to pick up the pieces.

But you couldn’t be mad at Steve, you knew he was in a battle with his inner self, that he would hopefully one day come to terms with.

“You ready to check out?” The honey eyed boy says from behind the counter, totally knocking you out of your inner thoughts. Those same thoughts that made you forget what tape you had underneath your arm.

“Mhmm” is all you say as you grab the two tapes and slowly place them on the counter.

Your face grows hot with realization and now you wish the ground would swallow you up whole.

“You find everything good?” Steve says, trying to make conversation as he rings up the goonies, he sets it aside and before he goes to pick up the next video, he freezes and looks back up at you.

“Yeah, I did.” The words come out fast and jumbled as your eyes plead with him to just hurry up.

But of course to your dismay, Steve’s lips curl into a knowing smirk. He grabs the video and rings it up, “yeah, looks like it.” He says while holding the video up and shaking it as his eyebrows shoot up under his perfectly coiffed hair.

Nothing would or could ever embarrass you as much as this interaction.

Steve licks his lips and leans against the counter, “don’t worry honey, your secret is safe with me.” He says with a wink. You wanted to tell him “so is yours.” But you could never do that.

Especially not with the way you were nervously chewing at your lip.

Finally after paying, Steve handed you your bag but not before letting his fingers linger over yours for far too long.

“You have a great day, beautiful.” He says with the most lust filled eyes.

You weren’t sure if you were aroused or annoyed, maybe both? But he knew you and Eddie were together, so it was pretty uncool of him to flirt with you.

Then again, it’s Steve, doesn’t he flirt with everyone? It’s like his second language.

Once you make it into your bedroom, you lock your door and pop the video into your vhs player, grab the remote on your night stand and sit on the end of your bed, no one is home but you turn the volume down almost all the way, just in case.

The video starts out with some shitty plot and bad acting, so you fast forward until you find what you're looking for. Finally, you click the play button when you see a man sitting on the couch and a woman on her knees between his spread legs, he has his cock out and he’s hitting it against the woman’s tongue before she takes it in her mouth, she proceeds to choke, lick and suck on it. Eddie had always seemed to enjoy your blowjobs, but Jesus they were nothing like this.

She was using her hand to twist and suck, and spit was constantly falling from her mouth from deepthroating, it was too hot for you not to slip your fingers into your shorts and make yourself cum.

The woman lowered herself while the man spread his legs even wider, she sucked on his balls before licking lower and finally lapping up at his puckered hole, it immediately sent you over the edge.

The whole thing was so dirty and hot, you knew you had to try it on Eddie.

So that leads you to your forgotten movie, playing in the background while you straddle your boyfriend's lap. His hands grip at your waist and you can’t help but to rub your clothed core over the stiffness of his hard on, under the material of his rough jeans.

“Fuck, baby.” Eddie breathes out into the expanse of your neck as he sucks and kisses the tender area, after a particularly hard roll of your hips.

“I want you to strip for me, and then I wanna taste you.” He whispers into the shell of your ear, before taking your earlobe into his mouth and sucking.

“Actually Ed’s, wanna try something?” You boldly say as you bat your lashes down at the metalhead.

“Oh yeah? Well lay it on me princess.” He replies, sinking further into the cushions as he playfully taps his chest.

“Um, well…” you trail off, all the confidence seemingly evaporating from your body.

“C’mon sweet girl, you know you can tell me anything.” He softly says as he runs his ringed fingers over your cheek bone.

You decide it would be easier to show him what you want, so you mirror the position from the porno, getting on your knees and in between his spread legs.

“Mmm, you wanna suck my cock, is that it?” He smirks, while looking down at your glossy, lust filled eyes.

You don’t answer, instead you bring your shaky hands to undo his handcuff belt, but he instantly notices and takes your hands in his, he brings his chin down to his chest, trying to catch your eye.

“Baby, talk to me.” He says with concern as he pulls you from your knees to sit in his lap, his arms wrap around your waist as he kisses the top of your head.

“I um,” you start, not knowing how to put what you want into words but deciding to be truthful about it.

“Well okay, here’s the truth..” you take a deep breath before continuing “I stopped by family video the other day, and I was curious so I went to the adult section and I found a tape, I decided to rent it and well… it was really hot and I wanna try it on you.” You say while hiding your face in his chest.

His eyebrows shoot up under his bangs in intrigue.

“Well now you gotta tell me, baby.” He says before gently grabbing your chin with his fingers and finally looking into your eyes.

You swallow hard before you finally come out with it, “I wanna eat your ass.” You hate the way it sounds coming out of your mouth, which is exactly why you took so long to finally say it.

Eddie’s eyes widen, he’s in shock that you would even suggest it, he’s no stranger to it, but it just doesn’t seem like something chicks would be into.

All of his sexual encounters before you had been with men, but he’s always been a top, in other words he’s eaten plenty of ass but never had it given in return. Never had his ass played with at all.

But he would let you do whatever you wanted to him, without a doubt and hearing that something like that turns you on is making his cock painfully hard in his tight jeans.

“Fuck, you wanna give me a rim job, princess?” He breathily says, as if all the wind had been knocked out of him.

“Mmhm.” You say through your bitten lip.

“Get back on your knees for me, angel.” He says while patting the exposed flesh of your thigh.

You do as you’re told, shifting around to find a comfortable enough position.

“Good girl.” Eddie smiles down at you with his lust blown eyes, his dimples on full display as his smile causes light creases in his skin.

Eddie helps you remove his belt and jeans, pulling his jeans and checkered boxers down in one swoop and playfully kicking them off his feet, making you giggle before grabbing and pulling them off the rest of the way.

You move in closer, your hands rub up and down Eddie’s thighs as your eyes rake over his body, he looks so good, his bangs slightly sticking to his forehead from the growing heat in the trailer.

He’s looking down at you with so much love and lust, it makes your head spin.

You try your best to remember everything the woman was doing on the tape.

So you wrap your hand around Eddie’s hard, throbbing cock and stick your tongue out, giving it a few slaps against the pink wet muscle.

“Oh, fuck.” Whimpers Eddie before he’s tearing his shirt off over his head, and tossing it somewhere behind you.

You take his tip in your mouth and begin sucking, taking him in deeper until he reaches the back of your throat, you close your eyes and breath through your nose willing yourself not to choke on it. You bob your head fucking your own mouth on his cock, allowing for that build up of spit to pool in your mouth.

You pull off of him with a pop before spitting on his tip, you curl your fingers back around him and begin spreading your saliva around the reddened head, all the way down to where the shaft meets his balls, the quick movements create a slick sound that squelches out into the muggy room.

“Jesus Christ baby, you weren’t fucking around were you?” He chuckles as he lightly squirms in his seat, it feels too fucking good and he’s trying his hardest not already blow his load.

You giggle and smile up at him from your place on your knees, that picture alone of you with your cute fucking giggle and beautiful smile along with your spit soaked lips and chin were so close to doing him in.

You wink at him before you move down to his balls and begin light licks and sucks at the tender skin.

“Oh my god, fuck yes.” He’s a babbling, whimpering mess and you have never felt so fucking powerful.

Finally after you worship his balls with a few more gentle sucks, you take his thighs and spread them out more, almost lifting them up into the air, making Eddie fall back further into the couch as his eyes widen at your manhandling.

He scoots down, his ass almost halfway off the couch as he brings his knees in towards his stomach, giving you the perfect view of his tight pink hole.

You continue to stroke him, his cock still slippery from all of your spit.

“You ready?” You quietly ask, Eddie nods his head as he bites down on his lip.

You wanted to tease him like he does you and give him the “use your words” bullshit, but you’re just as eager as he is, so you take that as his final answer.

Your tongue lightly brushes against his hole, making him slightly jump in surprise. You put more pressure on your tongue, getting more into it as you go. You imagine this is what eating a girl's pussy would be like, which is something you’d always wanted to try.

“Holy fuck!” Eddie gasps from above you, “oh fuck, th-that feels so good, baby.” He’s been reduced to a complete puddle, his cock is leaking so much precum, you wanted to just lick it all up. You get an idea and bring your tongue to his tip, licking his mess but you don’t swallow, instead you let it sit in your mouth before bringing the precum to his asshole, using it as lubrication to gently slip your tongue into his tight muscle.

Eddie looks down at you in utter shock, he’s never been so turned on and ready to burst in his life.

“Baby, baby, holy- you gotta stop or I’m gonna cum.” He whines, as his head falls back at the overwhelming pleasure of it all.

You slip your tongue out, a mischievous glint in your eyes has Eddie’s breath hitches in his throat.

“Can I finger you while I suck your cock, Ed?” You implore with a pout of your vibrant colored lips.

“Oh my god.” Eddie rubs at his face in astonishment, were you trying to kill him?

“Is that a yes?” You timidly ask, not sure if his reaction was good or bad.

Eddie lifts his head up again, meeting your eyes with a smile.

“You’re a little fucking minx, you know that?” He sighs before finally answering your question—

“Yes, you can do whatever you want to me, sweet girl.” He slams his head back into the cushions, bracing himself for the intrusion.

You spit on your finger tips and rub it into his hole, before doing it again, making sure to get it nice and wet. You had a friend who told you she tried to do anal dry, and it hurt like hell. So you know you have to get it nice and prepped with your spit before you finally proceed.

You rub more of your spit around before taking your middle finger and ever so slowly entering Eddie’s asshole.

His hands instantly grab for the fabric of the cushions, hanging on for dear life because the way you were making him feel, was beyond his comprehension.

He thought for sure if he’d let go, he’d float away.

You slip your finger in to the knuckle, while Eddie continues his incoherent babbling.

You begin slowly moving in and out while simultaneously taking Eddie’s cock in your mouth, his whole body stiffens as he lets out a guttural groan.

You let him hit the back of your throat over and over while speeding up your finger. The noises from his wet asshole to the sounds of you sucking him off and his beautiful, pleasure filled moans has your clit throbbing and begging for friction.

“Mmm, baby, Im- holy fuck I’m gonna cum, gonna cum in your fucking mouth!” He shouts as his eyes roll back in his head.

He looks down at you one last time, before he begins shooting rope after rope of warm cum into your mouth. You make a show of swallowing and licking the rest of his cock clean, you slowly remove your finger from his hole and bring it up to your lips, sucking it, just like he does when he fingers you.

Eddie’s sat up on the palms of his hands as he watches the display, he instantly growls in satisfaction and pulls you by the loops of your jeans shorts onto his lap, he grabs your face and smashes his lips to yours, a sloppy spit filled kiss.

Eddie moans at the taste of himself on you.

He was in heaven and you were a fucking angel.

#eddie munson fandom #eddie munson fic #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie stranger things

[saetoru]

#SORRY TO INTERRUPT

「 SYNOPSIS 」 ⋮ hey siri, how do you apologize to your ex boyfriend for fucking his roommate?

— pairing ⋮ alhaitham x reader (ft. past! kaveh x reader)

— length ⋮ 2.1k words

— contents ⋮ one night stand! alhaitham, ex boyfriend! kaveh, cunnilingus, fingering, handjobs, unprotected sex, slight size kink, creampie, kaveh walking in on y’all rip

— notes ⋮ i need to suck alhaitham’s tits bro. ty catnip for beta reading i luv u

you don’t expect it, in all honesty—it happens in a blur before you even have a moment to question it.

one moment you’re exchanging snide banter with a certain scribe, and the next moment you’re in his bed. you don’t ever expect him to be so willing. in your defense, alhaitham isn’t exactly what most people would deem a casual fuck kind of guy—or so you thought.

truth be told, it’s better this way, you think.

this way, you know this is a hookup that isn’t in it for the romance—at least, you assume so, anyway. alhaitham also doesn’t really seem the kind of guy who’s looking for a relationship. so really, it’s perfect this way. getting into bed with a muscular, well-built, smart, attractive man such as him to keep your mind off your ex is a great plan if you ask yourself.

alhaitham is already far better than most of your recent hookups—you’re pleasantly surprised. he sprawls you onto his mattress, lips curving along your own gently yet firmly, knee slotting between your legs as it rubs over your dripping cunt through the fabric. you mewl against his mouth as the friction finds your clit, making your hands clutch tightly onto any part of him you can grasp—which happens to be the bulging muscles of his bicep.

“so pretty,” he mumbles, pulling away and staring down at your swollen lips and hazed eyes—and he means it. you are pretty, sweet and pliant under him as he cages you with his weight.

it’s been a while since someone’s touched you like this, like you’re fragile and precious under the fingertips that trace your dips and curves. it’s been a while since someone’s paid attention to your body like this—which makes you all the more desperate as alhaitham’s fingers hook onto the waistband of your pants, pulling them down your hips swiftly along with your underwear.

he grins as he realizes that you’re drenched—your slick glistening along your folds and making him groan at the sight. you don’t even have a moment to register what’s happening, let alone protest when his face instantly inches down to bury itself between your legs.

“oh—h-haitham,” you gasp as his tongue circles your clit, licking a stripe along your folds before finding the sensitive nub once more, making your voice break with a desperate moan.

if you weren’t so lost in the pleasure of his mouth slowly making out with your pussy, on the way his tongue traces along your entrance so perfectly before it fucks into you, you might have just fallen for him after the delicate kiss to your clit before he’s diving his tongue past your folds.

it’s been so long since someone has been this diligent with you, so long since someone has taken the time to make sure your pleasure comes first before even thinking about moving on to the main part. when was the last time? you can’t even remember.

it’s must’ve been….oh, right. the last time must’ve been during kaveh. the time before the breakup that leaves you numb and aching. the same breakup that lands you here in alhaitham’s bed in the first place, searching for something—anything—to keep your mind off of your loss.

but then, just before the pang in your heart can present itself as you think about the previous man who held your heart, just before your mind can wander to the man you’ve left behind, two thick fingers slide past your folds, curling into your sweet spot perfectly.

“f-fuck—feels good,” you sob, “so good, please, please,” you chant, grinding your cunt against his face as his lips wrap around your clit.

alhaitham is just a little cocky at the way your voice cracks—chuckling lowly as he presses yet another kiss to your clit before pulling away.

“please what?” he smirks, “c’mon, you can’t just leave a sentence unfinished now,” he urges. but he knows exactly what he’s doing—sinking his fingertips deeper into you, brushing against the velvety spot of your walls, and grinning as you whine at the feeling instead of answering his question.

“p-please—don’t stop,” you beg, moans spilling freely from your mouth, “gonna cum,” you cry.

“good,” he nods, “why don’t you be good and cum then? i’d love to see it.”

it’s instantaneous—the way you shatter for him as his fingers fuck into you fast and cruel, filling the room with the messy sound of his digits bullying into your wet cunt. his lips suck around your clit, tongue rubbing back and forth against it and making you sob as your back arches and your toes curl from the intensity of your orgasm.

it feels good—so good. alhaitham knows his way around your body, licking and sucking along every patch of skin he can find. the insides of your thighs are painted vividly with proof of his lips, and so is the valley of your breast and the column of your neck. for living in a place that frowns upon the arts the way that it does, alhaitham is an artist of his own kind. he marks every stroke of his brush against your skin deliberately, like the slow scratches of pen on paper as a story unfolds.

you can feel the strain of his cock in his pants, thick and practically throbbing through the fabric as he hovers over you and grinds his erection against your thigh.

“fuck,” he curses, arms wobbling just a little as he tries to hold himself over you. even the slightest friction against his aching length is enough to break his composure like that—and you can’t help but find it endearing. “see this?” he hums lowly, breath fanning over your lips, “see what you do to me?”

“please, alhaitham,” you whine impatiently, hand finding its way between your bodies to slip under his waistband, wrapping tightly around his thick girth and squeezing. he chokes, lets out a surprised grunt as your thumb grazes his slit and smears the pre cum leaking around his sensitive tip. “give it to me,” you say, “all of it.”

something in him snaps—something that breaks off every part of his rationality before he’s growling and sliding his pants down his legs, stiff cock meeting the cool air of the room while he hisses.

your hand finds him immediately, slowly stroking his length and squeezing around the base. he’s flushed a pretty red at the tip, leaking with pre cum and swollen as he aches painfully to sink into you, to stretch you wide and split you open on his cock.

“impatient are we?” he croaks, trying not to let his voice break as he moans softly when your thumb glides through his slit again, face falling to the crook of your neck, “mm, k-keep going,” he encourages against your skin, sucking and licking along your neck as you drag your fist up and down his length.

the filthy, squelching sound of his cock fucking into your first is all but deafening, overtaking your senses as you focus on the way he’s hot and heavy in your hands, thick and curved just right that you know he’ll fill you up perfectly and then some.

and just as you’re about to plead, to beg desperately to just let you feel him already, he grabs your wrist and pins it over your head, grabbing his cock and gritting his teeth as the uncomfortable ache of his orgasm dying down settles in. the blunt head of his length nudges against your entrance, making you gasp before he slowly inches into you.

he’s big—he takes a good amount of time slowly sinking into you as you try to accommodate his size.

“‘s big,” you sniffle, “too big. won’t fit—can’t fit it all,” you try to tell him, but he scoffs, hand grabbing your cheeks and squeezing them together as he tilts your head to meet his gaze.

“oh yeah? think you know better than me?” he raises a brow, making your teary eyes widen as he sinks a little deeper into you. the stretch stings—but you can’t deny that the drag of every vein along your tight walls makes your head spin and spine jolt with pleasure. “we’ll make it fit,” he growls, “and it’ll fit just fine too. that much, i can assure.”

but even as stern as his words are, his lips are gentle as they kiss away the tears, mapping your skin sweetly as the last bit of him slides into you and he bottoms out. he groans, panting erratically against your forehead as your tight walls hug around his cock. he needs to cum—needs to fill you up and fuck you until you’re dripping the remains of his cum that leaks from your folds.

his hips roll with a steady rhythm, yet another mystery as to how someone so smart and serious is so skilled with the arts. alhaitham fucks you like he hits every note of a tune you don’t think you’ll ever forget, stuck in your mind to replay over and over as you feel him slam against every sensitive spot deep within you. his hips slam against yours and the sound of skin slapping rings in your ears like background music. but the sound of his voice—melodic against your ear and sweet as it sings moans and praises makes your walls flutter around him.

“so tight,” he grunts, “s-so tight,” he pants against your ear, voice breathy and soft, “don’t know how long i’ll last like this.”

his thumb moves between your bodies to circle your clit, making your head fall back against the plush of the pillows under you, eyes fluttering shut and mouth hanging open as wanton moans spill from your lips.

sometimes, when you miss kaveh a little extra, when the nights are lonely and the bed is even lonelier, you find yourself seeking out the warmth of another body. usually, your mind always craves the touch of your ex boyfriend, aching to feel the familiarity of soft blonde strands of hair between your fingers and the heat of his pale skin against yours. you find the remnants of your love in the strangers your bed, holding onto the few seconds that you can trick yourself into thinking the body pressed against yours is the one you wish for so desperately.

but somehow…something with alhaitham doesn’t feel like every other time. this time, you don’t let your mind unconsciously slip into imagining kaveh. this time, you’re distinctly aware that it’s alhaitham hovering over you, that it’s alhaitham bullying his thick cock into your abused cunt, that it’s alhaitham moaning into your ear, that it’s alhaitham lighting up your body as you reach the precipice of your high.

and all too suddenly, his mouth presses against yours, tasting you like there’s decadence on your tongue and sweetness that trickles from your lips. his hips are sloppy as they angle into you, the mess of slick and pre cum coating your inner thighs and forming a ring around the base of his cock. his voice lilts to a soft whine as you squeeze around him, the thick head of his cock kissing the parts deep within you that make your hips jolt and your mind haze with pleasure.

“c-close,” you whimper sweetly, “so close, ‘m gonna…gonna cum—”

“i know,” he rasps, “i know, me too. cum with me.” if you didn’t know any better, you’d say the last part comes out as a plea, a slightly needy tone that makes your walls quiver around him.

with a few more harsh strokes of his thumb over your clit, you cum with a wail, and he follows you not long after, the deep rasp of your name falling off his tongue like a prayer as his hips still and his cum fills your cunt with thick ropes. he fucks his load into you sloppily, lost from any rhythm as he desperately rolls his hips and drills his cock into you while riding through the shocks of his orgasm.

your fingers thread through his hair, sweaty and soft under your touch—and the deep groan you pull from him as you tug almost makes you cum again from the sound alone. with a few more thrusts of his hips, he collapses beside you, panting as his chest rises and falls while he catches his breath.

after a while, he glances at you from the corner of his eyes, “uh…are you…are you okay? was i…did i hurt—”

“i’m fine,” you snort, grinning at him. it’s almost…cute—the way his cheeks flush and his lips are almost a pout as he scoffs.

“you don’t have to laugh,” he grumbles, “there’s nothing funny about asking a regular question.”

“i’m not laughing at you,” you tease, “i’m laughing with you.”

“well, that makes no sense. i’m not laughing at all,” he rolls his eyes.

“well, you—”

you’re cut off by the door being pushed open, the creak making both of your heads turn to the source of your interruption. instantly, alhaitham’s face sours—but you pause, eyes wide and mouth dry as you take in just who’s at the door and just whose voice you’re hearing.

“are you ignoring me on purpose? i’ve been calling out for the past—” kaveh’s eyes are wide, mouth parted as he stops mid-sentence and his eyes linger on your face before registering your lack of clothing. the hand on the doorknob tightens its grip and his face turns red while his eyes narrow.

“k-kaveh?” you whisper.

“you know each other?” you can faintly hear alhaitham’s confused voice beside you, but you’re too busy watching as hurt and then anger sink into kaveh’s features.

“well, i’ll just leave my roommate and my past lover to their devices then,” he spits coldly, “sorry to interrupt.”

and before you can ask him to wait, before alhaitham’s hand can reach for you as you hurriedly climb out of bed to chase after the blonde, the door slams hard enough that you can almost feel the walls shake.

© hanmas do not plagiarize, repost, translate to other sites, or recommend on platforms outside tumblr such as tik tok

#teepods.writings #thirstee! #fics. #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x you #alhaitham smut #kaveh x reader #kaveh x you #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact smut

[themusingsofacurlyhairednerd]

Datura Pt 4

Summary: A little (ok it's not very little this is 4k words) Rhysand x Reader training under the mountain

Content Warnings: Some suggestive content, nothing explicit, Rhysand is a tease and so am I, will get to the actual smut eventually ;)

Pt 1, 2, 3

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There’s water dripping somewhere, the splash against the copper tub echoing across the room in a steady enough rhythm it drags you from sleep. You’ve never been a morning person, especially after the last couple days, it takes everything in you to prop your head up on your hand, open an eye and try to figure out where the noise is coming from. With your luck there’s a leak, even enough to flood. You fully expect to find your slightly furnished prison to be underwater, your bed floating up towards the ceiling. It’s definitely a more reasonable answer than the truth. A flood in this ancient tomb makes sense, who knows how long these pipes had been here? But the violet eyed male sitting on the edge of the tub when you’d never heard the door open? You have no explanation for that.

“The dead sleep lighter than you,” Rhys says by way of greeting.

You drag your gaze to the door. It’s still shut, as if he’d walked right through it.

You pull the pillow over your head, it’s too early for all this nonsense. “Go away, Rhysand.” Maybe you shouldn’t be so flippant with him after the power he’d displayed last night, but you’re too exhausted to care.

“Rhysand?” He says like you’d cursed at him. “I thought we were friends?”

Friends? He doesn’t give you away to his evil Mistress one time and suddenly you’re friends? He’s as delusional as he is powerful and you can’t stop yourself from sliding an arm out from under the sheets to give him the finger.

“You wound me.”

You close your eyes and let sleep try and claim you again, the blissful darkness quiet for the first time in days, no Calanmai visions to haunt you. For a few hours you’d been able to forget where you were, why you were here, why the male hovering at the edge of your bed is here. Perhaps if you go back to sleep it’ll all be a terrible dream.

“You stink,” he says as he yanks the sheets off you and tosses them across the room.

You’re more bare than you’d like to be, still wearing that mud stained shift, too tired the night before to even attempt to get clean, you’d just crawled into bed and cried yourself to sleep. Conscious of your lack of dress, and suddenly very aware of the male’s gaze on your nearly exposed ass, you grab the edge of the pillow and swing at him with all the strength you can muster.

It’s apparently not a lot because Rhys catches it before the blow can lend and wrenches it from your grip. “We have a lot of work to do.”

“Eat shit,” you snarl.

“Not a morning person I take it?”

“You’re the most infuriating male I’ve ever met in my life,” you hiss as you crawl off the mattress.

Rhys grins, eyes glinting playfully. He likes this, you realize.

“I promise you’ll never find another male quite like me, Darling,” he retorts.

You look away from him, at the steam curling off the water in the tub, filled almost to the brim. A bath would be nice… but there’s no door, and Rhys is hovering like a puppy just given a new owner. There is no trace of the male you saw last night, the monster that laid beneath his skin.

“I don’t… have any other clothes,” you mumble, forgetting what you were talking about before.

He holds out a hand and a set of perfectly folded clothes appears in his outstretched palm. “I’m not a monster, I wouldn’t have you walk around naked. At least not out there,” he says with a wink.

“It’s too early for this,” you grumble as you take the clothes from his hand. There’s a pair of pants, socks and a sweater, both black, and surprisingly soft. You carry them into the bathroom on instinct, only remembering at the last moment that there is no door to give your privacy and he’s now sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Will you leave now?”

“I’m in charge of training, remember? There’s no escaping me.”

“Is this training happening in the tub?”

His eyes gleam, “I can think of a few exercises.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. This version of him is better, better than watching him rip people apart with nothing but his mind, but he’s getting on your last nerve. You can’t remember the last time you’d eaten. He’s going to push you too far and the morning is only just getting started.

“Rhysand-”

“Fine, I’ll turn around,” he does so as dramatically as possible, but his back is finally to you.

There’s little else to do but strip and climb in. The water is blissfully warm, easing your stiff muscles, swallowing the chill that feels like it’s carved it’s way into your bones. You groan as you settle against the side, eyes drifting shut for a few moments so you can savor it for as long as possible.

 You’re not sure how long Rhysand’s civility will hold out, so you don’t wait too long before you grab the cheap soap and start scrubbing the grime from your skin. Truth be told, you’d need a good couple of baths to be completely clean, but you make the most with what you have before scrambling out and into your new clothes. They fit like they were made for you, everything the perfect length and size, and they’re warm. After spending so long in your shift, the chill of the mountain is beginning to feel permanent. This takes the edge off, just a little.

Rhys’s turns as you leave the bathroom like he’s been listening to your footsteps, two pastries in hand this time, one half eaten. “Hungry?”

“Where do you keep pulling this stuff out of?” You ask.

He eats the other half in one bite as he holds the other one out. “I’ve got deep pockets.”

You’re too hungry to care.

“Or pocket realms, I should say,” he amends as you take a bite. It’s not warm, if anything it’s a little stale, but there’s something sweet, maybe honey in the center, and it’s filling, easing the ache that’s been steadily growing in your stomach for awhile now.

“Thanks,” you say around a mouthful of the pastry.

He stands and brushes a piece of it off the corner of your mouth with his thumb, like he just can’t help himself. He’s always finding an excuse to touch you. “Can’t have you starving to death before we’re done with you, now can we?”

You frown at that. “Right, that. And here I was thinking you cared about my well being.”

“I can multitask,” he says.

You scarf down the rest of the pastry, manners be damned, “Let’s get this over with then.”

With a wave of the hand, the door opens to him. “Right this way, M’lady.”

“Nope, you’re definitely not calling me that,” you counter, biting down the obvious surprise that he’s letting you out of the room. After last night, you’d expected to be locked in your room until Amarantha deemed you ready--whatever that was supposed to mean--the chance to get out and explore with fresh eyes is a promising start to the day, Rhys’s company be damned. He’s been pleasant thus far, but you’re wary of how long it’ll hold out, you can’t waste any opportunity to explore by worrying about what he’ll do on his next whim.

The halls are scarred from your claws on them last night. You trace their path forward, before they veer left, opposite the way Rhys is leading. You make a mental note of the paths: Left will eventually lead to the throne room, right will be something for training?

Rhys is less chatty in the halls, hands deep in his pocket as he strolls ahead. It looks like he’s trying to be leisurely, but his shoulders are stiff, muscles tight, even if his pace is slow.

The path goes right for a long while, then rounds into a downward spiral. The torches are few and far between here and there’s something beneath the rock scratching and hissing. At one point you’re sure you hear screaming.

“Where are we going?” You ask as you wrap your arms around yourself. This place is creepy, a giant dungeon filled with monsters.

“Some place where you can’t accidentally bring the mountain down on our heads,” Rhys says.

“You’re very confident I have powers you can use,” you reply.

Rhys continues on, but says over his shoulder, “Why are you so sure you don’t?”

“Because…” Because what little has manifested has always been an uncontrolled mess that had a tendency to disappear just as quickly as it would come. Because your uncle had always made it sound like these things weren’t a big deal, they were something everybody had and grew into overtime. Because two days ago you were a simple girl with a simple life and you had liked that, and now suddenly that wasn’t true, you weren’t simple at all and never would be again.

Rhys slows until you’re walking side by side with him. “You shouldn’t have to be scared of what you are,” he says softly, like he thinks the walls might hear him.

Maybe that was part of the problem: What even are you?

The path levels out and straightens back into another hall, the ground more rocky here. A soft breeze whistles through a crack in the wall, but there is still no light to be seen.

Rhys stops at a door covered in ancient markings and pushes it open. The old stone creeks like it hasn’t been opened in centuries, a bit of dirt from the ceiling falling on your heads as you enter. The space is pitch black, the air stale.

“Is this the part where you turn into some giant monster and swallow me whole?” You ask in the darkness. It’s so dark you can’t see your hand in front of your face, let alone him.

He chuckles from somewhere ahead of you as he lights one torch, then another. “If you’re a slow learner maybe.”

He uses the first torch to light two others, anchoring one in each corner of the large room. Like the throne room, the roof is held up by carved pillars, each one shaped like a warrior in battle. There’s a rack of old weapons against one wall, the wooden shelf holding it full of holes and sagging dangerously. A stack of training cushions has been stacked in the other, all coated heavily with dust. Some sort of old training room.

“I take it Amarantha doesn’t do much training,” you say as you step up to one of the carvings. Time and dust have worn down the face’s features, leaving one visible eye beneath what might have once been a helmet. The fae male had once been depicted with wings, but only one remains in tact, the other a pile of rubble collecting at it’s base.

“She doesn’t get many challengers,” Rhys says so low it’s almost a growl.

You turn to face him just in time to see the shadow that flashes across his face. He’s pretty good at hiding his emotions, but every once in awhile the mask slips enough for you to see something beneath. It’s anyone’s guess if it’s real or another one of his tricks to get you to let your guard down, but still, you find yourself asking, “Why not?”

“They’ll loose.”

“Why?” You shouldn’t be so open about your disdain in front of one of her subjects, but even after the little display last night, you’re not so totally afraid of her that you won’t ask questions.

He cocks his head like he’s thinking. “You don’t know do you?”

You walk to another pillar, a woman this time, half her body shaped like a giant snake. “That seems to be everybody’s favorite question to ask me.”

Rhys scratches at his chest, “She has the power of all Seven High Lords.”

Shit.

No one had ever given her a name, they’d always said she was a Blight on the Land and left it at that, as if they feared saying her name would summon her. There had been rumors about her, of course, whispered in taverns in the middle of the night, about a female who had ensnared the High Lords, a female who had snatched them all off their thrones. You hadn’t thought it was true. Tamlin was still in Spring.

“How?” It’s a nice story, but who could manage a feat like that? She was an intimidating force of course, but she hadn’t personally done that much. Everything had been done for her, she’d just been there overseeing.

“As I said,” he sits down in the middle of the floor and motions you to do the same. “She is what your father made her.”

You shiver and desperately need to steer the subject away from all things Hybern. You’ll cross that bridge in three months when he arrives. For now, getting out is the objective-- even if that means partnering with a monster to do it. “So why are you here?”

“Siphoning away our power isn’t a one time thing, since they’re regenerative, so she bound us to her so that she could tap into it continually.”

The information takes a moment to process.

“You’re a High Lord?”

He holds out a hand and lets a few tiny stars glitter from his palm, the glittering balls of light forming constellations and shapes before flying away. “Was,” he says sadly.

Not just any High Lord, there’s only one that can summon stars--something you realize now should have made it obvious from the get-go--Rhys was High Lord of the Night Court. And if memory served, the most powerful High Lord in Prythian’s history. Everybody feared him. And he was here, sitting in the dirt with you far beneath a bunch of rock.

Cauldron boil you, you’d told the High Lord of the Freaking Night Court you were going to rip out his throat!

You can’t look at him. What are you supposed to do with the knowledge that you’d kissed the High Lord of the Night Court? You wish the ground would open and swallow you, but Rhys just stares at his hands, like he’s thinking about all that he has lost.

“How long have you been here?” If this was true, if Amarantha had really managed to steal from and ensnare all the High Lords than Rhys was just as trapped here as you.

“Going on fifty years,” he says.

The room spins. “You’ve been trapped here for fifty years?”

“But who’s counting?” The grin he offers doesn’t reach his eyes.

Before you can ask more question, he rubs his hands together and says, “Now let’s work on those shields.”

Your mouth opens to get back to the previous topic, the next question on your lips, but he misreads it and says, “Yours are nonexistent, any half trained daemati could walk right in and turn your mind into mush.”

The image of that male last night, blood trickling from his eyes makes all questions die in your throat. You can’t suppress the shiver. Is that what he’d done? Gone in and turned his mind into soup?

“You have to picture your mind like a hallway,” he explains, “each thought is a doorway into your memories, and each door needs to be locked and guarded.”

You scratch absently at your head.

“Close your eyes,” he instructs. “Now picture a hallway.”

The first hallway your mind can conjure is the winding path you’d taken to get here, the dark, ancient stone cold and unyielding.

“Try again,” he says like he sees it. Maybe he can.

You give yourself a little shake and try again.

“Relax, you’re too stiff.”

“You’re too stiff,” you retort.

Rhys snorts, “You have to let go of the tension in your shoulders. Take a deep breath. You need to let go of the focus you have on the room and look inside yourself.”

How philosophical; you’d roll your eyes if you weren’t squeezing them shut.

“Right now, you don’t exist here in this room, you’re body is the only tether you have. Let your thoughts drift and form the hallway.”

This is probably a skill you need--maybe a skill you should have possessed a long time ago, as unsure of all of this as you are, you owe it to yourself to at try and master your powers. You know if you don’t that he is perfectly capable of reaching into your mind and taking over them for you. If Amarantha would kill a male just to scare you, it’s not beneath her to use her puppet lordling to reach right into your skull and wield your powers anyway she sees fit. You have to try to master them. This might be your only chance.

You let yourself drift, letting go of all the questions and concerns that tug at you, letting your mind relax. With a few calming breaths you start to think about the farmhouse and the little hallway that leads from the stairs to your bedroom, the walls lined with your bookshelves and the collections of things your uncle had found in his travels.

“Good,” as he speaks he slowly begins to appear in your mind’s eye. This mental version of him reaches out a hand and picks a book up off the bookshelf: Enemy Kiss. Of course the first book he’d pluck out of your memories was one of your smutty romance novels.

With a squeak, you reach out and snatch it out of his hand. “Ok no touching the books.”

His grin is wicked as he turns into nothing but shadow and drifts right past you to another shelf. “Seduced by the High Lord,” he reads, fingers grazing the collections. “My Werewolf Harem.”

Your embarrassment makes the walls rattle, when you toss out a hand to grab the book from him the shelves go flying, sending books in all directions.

“Quite the collection you’ve got here,” he teases. “What’s in here, I wonder?” The shelves had been separated by doors, more doors than had been in your actual house, and when he opens it, it’s not a room at all, but a memory, playing out before you like it’s somehow detached from the body you use to move through the hallway. It’s a strange feeling, knowing that physically your body is sitting on the floor, but mentally, you have a body that moves and walks and touches, while your own memory plays out like it’s attached to a third body. When Rhys steps through the door, he steps right into a memory from last year’s Calanmai.

It might have been any other night, were it not for the drums pounding outside the windows, his own voice an echo on a phantom wind. You watch, somehow separate, yet connected to the body laying on the bed in front of you. Moonlight streams down on you as you lay in bed, sweat clinging to your skin, the sheets kicked off. The drums rattle the windows, begging, pleading you to come out and play. Memory you gives a frustrated growl as you roll onto your stomach, pulling a pillow over your head.

A normal memory, much to your relief. You know there are other ones in here that are…

The room spins, a blur of colors and sounds.

“What’s happening?”

Rhys is in shadow form again, a blur of darkness among the flash of color as the memory morphs and settles. Again in your bedroom. Again with the drums and Rhys’s call inside your head. But this time… this time you’ve got your shift bunched up around your hips, legs spread, your hand between your legs.

With a shriek, you spin towards the door and slam it shut.

Rhys finally takes a corporeal form again, now leaning against the door frame, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “I’d praise your quick learning abilities, but I think we could have had more fun if you hadn’t slammed the door so quickly.”

Your cheeks heat, “No more touching the doors, Rhysand.”

Despite the fact that his physical body is across the room from yours, when he moves so that he’s standing ahead of you, your back now flush against the door to keep him out, you can still feel the heat of him. He braces one hand above your head, the other coming down to stroke across your cheek. “See, but you brought that memory up, not me, Darling. I walked into last year out of sheer curiosity, but you started thinking about another night, and brought it right to me.”

“I didn’t mean to,” you grumble. “It just happened.”

“It’s cute that you’re so scandalized by it,” he says as he leans in, lips brushing against your ear.

When you shiver, a door across from you flies open.

“I’ve seen a lot worse in people’s minds,” he continues. “You’d be surprised how often people are thinking about sex.”

He’s the last person you want to be talking about sex with, or at least, you’d like to tell yourself that, but over his shoulder you can see into the room you’d opened, and it’s very clear that memory is of how his hands had felt on you that night. How close you’d been to begging for him to touch you.

You concentrate your energy into slamming that door shut before he can turn and see it--if he hasn’t already-- imagining a lock on it, sliding it into place, no matter how bad it makes your brain pound in your skull.

He glances over his shoulder than, grinning. “Good girl.”

You’re not sure if he can feel the confusion while he’s in your head like this--and you pray to every god you can name that he can’t because than he’d also know that, despite all your attempts to deny it, being called a good girl makes your stomach do flips--or if it shows on this version of you’s face because he adds, “It takes some people years to be able to shut their memories out, let alone lock them away.”

He knocks a knuckle against the wood of the door you’re still barring him from. “It’ll need reinforcing, but you’re making good progress.”

Maybe it’s him, maybe it’s you, but the hallway fades away and you open your eyes, blinking as the lights suddenly feel too bright, dim as they are. There’s a dull throbbing in your head that has you reaching out to rub your temples.

“Is it always going to hurt?” You grumble.

“No, with enough practice you should be able to check and lock your shields without having to be in a meditative state to do it. Which is something you’ll need to master within a couple weeks.”

Hadn’t he just said it took people years? “Why?”

His eyes are dark again, dangerous. “Hybern is sending your cousins to evaluate you and Amarantha’s hold on the Courts.”

You’re sure that’s supposed to mean something to you, but it doesn’t.

“The twins are daemati, like me, but…” he flicks some dirt off his knee, the cobalt and ruby gems on his rings gleaming in the firelight. “I don’t enjoy going into people’s minds like this. It’s an intrusion, not just of your privacy, but of your consciousness. It… it makes me feel like I’m violating people.”

There’s something in his voice that makes you think he might be showing you what kind of male he is underneath all the layers of flirting and show boating, like there’s something haunted and damaged beneath.

“I do it because I have to,” he holds your gaze like he needs a lifeline, like he might beg you to understand why he’d done what he had yesterday. “But the twins aren’t like me and if you give them an inch, you will find yourself a slave to their every whim.”

You shiver.

“You’re shields have to be up at all times, Y/N, your survival depends on it.”

You find yourself nodding. This is a dangerous game you’re now involved in, monsters lurking on every side. As much as you want to pretend that you can go back to a simple life when you finally get out of here, you know, deep down that to get out, life may never be as simple as it had been again. To be free, you’re going to have to dig deep and figure out exactly what you are.

“Show me more,” you say, meeting his gaze. You’re not sure what lies beneath your skin, if Hybern wants it, it very well be a monster as bad as any of the ones that lurk beneath this mountain. But if it means getting out of here, if it is the key to your freedom, you’ll do it. And in the end, you’d rather be the one to awaken it, before anyone else dared try.

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