#nora and bliss

[peachesofteal]

Simple Math / Part Seven

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 4.8k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI. Brief suggestive content, sex dream. Mentions of domestic violence, stalking. Hospital setting, nurse!reader. Feelings of fear, anxiety. Mentions of stress and weight loss. Soft dads. Little bit of flirting. Simon is... Simon. You get caught in a spell.

Johnny knows this is a dream. 

It’s an odd thing, to be conscious of it, to know you’re dreaming but still unable to control your actions. It’s like watching a movie of yourself, but also being yourself, directing your body without having a say in what it’s doing. 

He knows this is a dream, because you’re in it. You’re in their home, in one of Simon’s oversized sweatshirts, boy shorts rucked up over the little lightning bolts that arc across your hips, the underside of your cheeks. You’re smiling at him too, like you belong in there, like it’s yours too, and his heart swells, growing to a preposterous size.

“There’s my bunny.” He pulls you into his chest, mouthing up your neck and over your jaw. Your skin tastes like sugar, and when he gets to your lips, his hands shift, sliding down your back to grab two fistfuls of your ass with a groan. “Missed ye.” 

“We missed you too.” His fingers trace the edge of your panty line, barely dipping into where you drip for him. “Come to bed, Si’s waiting.” You whisper, stifling a moan. 

“Johnny.” Simon calls him, too loudly. He wants to hiss, snap at him about not waking the baby. “Johnny!”

His eyes blink open. White ceiling stares back at him, and he turns his head, finding Simon with a bemused look on his face. 

“I was havin’ a great dream.” Johnny grumbles, latching onto him. Simon scoots closer, lifting the back of his hand to his lips with a secretive smile, dotting kisses down to his wrist. 

“I know.” 

 “- and he has access privileges, as long he’s not interfering with care, he’s allowed to be in the room whenever he deems fit. Obviously, in cases where he shouldn’t be, like burn debridement, he’s fine with stepping out, but you should expect him to sleep here.” The nurse nods, nervously peeking over your shoulder at Simon, who’s lurking in the hallway, staring through the glass at the transport techs getting Johnny settled in his room. You catch her eyes, motioning to redirect her attention, and she mumbles a meek apology. “They have a daughter, who Johnny has been mostly separated from since he got here, and he’s hoping to see her often, since she’ll be allowed to visit more freely now. I told him it wouldn’t be a problem.”

“Okay.” Her toes tap against linoleum, weight shifting from foot to foot, and you resist the urge to sprint back to her boss and demand someone else. Fuck. Why does Nora have to be on maternity leave? 

“This is my favorite patient.” You warn her instead, dropping your voice low, pitching it brazenly serious. “I don’t ever want to see him back upstairs again, and that’s going to depend a lot on you.”

“Okay, okay.” Her work phone rings, and you jerk your head in dismissal, not quite finished, but not seeing a need to continue to harangue her, either.

Simon glances at you from down the hall, head turning once you’re alone. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t call to you, or say your name, but you’re helpless to the magnetic yank of his presence, a beam of gravity dragging you closer until you’re shoulder to shoulder, looking into Johnny’s room. He’s asleep, dark lashes feathered against his cheeks, blissed out and nearly snoring. “This will be great.” You say quietly. “He can see Penny almost as much as he wants down here. There are far less restrictions, and he’s doing so well, there’s nothing to worry about it.” He doesn’t say anything, just watches you with the x-ray vision that peels you open. Like he’s digging around in your head again.

“D’you have a minute?” You blink at him, graceful words dried out and missing.

“Uh, I… yeah, I’m technically off now so. Sure?”

“Have a tea with me? I’ll meet you outside the café, on the patio. Ten minutes alright?” Have a… have a tea with him? 

His eyes are heavy. They’re lasered, locked onto yours, brows knitted together in something soft, some form of emotion that you don’t understand, framing his face above the mask. How can you say no? 

“Okay, sure. Ten minutes.” You try to hide how your hands shake, tucking fingernail to palm, squeezing tight.

It doesn’t escape him.

You grow more afraid with each day, that nothing does.

The paper cup cradled in Simon’s outstretched grip is like every other paper cup you’ve seen before, drank from a thousand times, with steam wafting from its rim and aromatics spilling out into the air. “Sorry.” You blurt, reaching. His fingers brush against yours, warm contact momentarily stunning you. ‘Thanks.” You lift the tea to your nose, inhaling deeply.

Irish breakfast. With milk. Your favorite. 

“How do you know what tea I drink?” You don’t mean for it to sound so suspicious, or aggressive, but it does. It’s nearly accusatory, but doesn’t affect him. He merely shrugs in response.

“I pay attention.” An engine turns over in the carpark, a small car sweeping across the lot as it turns out onto the street. You watch, feigning mild interest, trying to get a closer look at the driver without appearing too fixated. “So.” He sips, and then removes the lid, vapor rising from the top in a delicate little dance. “How long have you been at Addenbrooke’s?”

“A few years.” The answer is effortlessly supplied, like you’re under a spell. Your eyes go round. What are you doing? Crow’s feet crinkle at the corners of his own, and you manage a shaky smile.

“What brought you across the pond?” He jokes, velvet, soothing lilt in his voice.

“Work.” It’s easy to lie about this, the fabrication usually used in casual conversation almost every day with patients and new coworkers, people who are interested in you being from somewhere else, having a different accent, different education, customs, the whole lot. His jaw moves behind the mask, and before he can push the question further, you rush out your own interruption. “Simon, I want… I want to talk to you about something.”

“Sure.” He nods. “What’s on your mind?”

“It’s… the other night Johnny said something about,” Your face is nearly scalding, embarrassment laden lump stuck in the back of your throat. “about you and him, and… me, I guess…” you trail off, eyes darting down into the tea.

“Go on?”

“He said that you guys think I’m special, and you- you said-“

“That we’re here for you.” He finishes, nonchalant.

“Right.” You breathe a little easier, knowing he knows what you’re talking about, words picking up steam. “I want you to know that it’s totally normal to feel this way. It happens a lot, you know. Patients and, or their family members, loved ones, they get attached. This affection starts to happen towards a member of the care team because we become that person who… provides care, twenty-four seven. So, you and… and Johnny, feeling like you have this attachment towards me, it’s very normal. Not a big deal.” You finish in one big breath, cutting your ramble short. His cheeks swell behind the fabric, like he’s smiling, eyes squinting again.

“That’s not what this is.” That’s not… what this is? What does that mean? 

“What?”

“Transference. That’s not what is happening here.”

“How do you…”

“I’ve had years of therapy.” He sighs. “Are you uncomfortable?” Say yes, the girl in your head screams. Tell him you need it all to stop. That you don’t like them, that it’s inappropriate. You know how this will end. 

“No.” You don’t know why you don’t acquiesce to your own good sense, why you ignore the very clear boundaries and rules that have kept you alive this long.

“Bunny, I need you tell me, honestly, if you are uncomfortable.” He levels you with an intense look, seriousness bleeding from his irises to yours. You press your palms flat on the table, quelling their trembling.

“It’s not… it’s not you. Or Johnny.” You whisper, eyes slipping shut. It’s easier that way, to just close them, to hide. To pretend you’re somewhere else, to block everything out.

What the fuck are you doing right now? Your brain screams, but your heart wails.

What is it like, to be loved like that? To be known like that? To be held in someone's heart, cherished and protected? 

“Sweetheart,” Simon’s voice is low, calming, and when you don’t answer, one of his hands folds over yours. “are you with me?”

“Yes.” You peek at him, and then fully let yourself look around, steadying the rancid fear that permeates through your body. “Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize.” He hums, hand still over yours. It’s warm, and broad, big thumb stroking a slow circle into your skin. “Is today your Friday?” You nod.

“It is, yeah. I’m… I’m looking forward to catching up on some sleep.” He straightens in the chair, shoulders and torso so unbelievably wide, like a long forgotten mythological god. Or the trunk of a massive tree.

“Will you have dinner with us, tonight?” The last of the orange red dawn spills over the crest of the buildings, and the world spins, cold sweat breaking out down your back. 

“What?”

“Dinner, with us. I’m picking up takeaway for Johnny from his favorite place as a celebration, for graduating the ICU. We’d love to spend some time with you. Get to know you, if that’s alright.”

“Oh, I…” Say no, you have to say no, shut this down. It’s too much risk. 

“No pressure. Just, hanging out, talking. As friends, if you like.” Butterflies thrash in your stomach so violently your knees bounce, and your heart leaps, pitching itself off a cliff like it wants to die.

“Okay.”

“Great. I can pick you u-“

“No! No, I’m fine. I have some errands to run after I get up for the day so, I’ll just meet you here.” It will be just like going to work. No harm, no foul. You can hang out with them, and go home, just like you’re at work. It doesn’t mean anything. It won’t. 

You barely sleep. You pace, you nap, you thumb through endless craigslist listings in faraway cities for apartments, you read. You take the long way through the city back to your flat and slowly sift through pieces of your life that you want to keep. Your quilt from home, that’s been tucked away on a shelf. A sentimental trinket that belonged to your mom, also hidden in a drawer. These things that can be removed, without being noticed.

Not that it matters.

He hasn’t been here. Not since the sick shit he pulled with your underwear. It makes you curious when you inspect the undisturbed tape on the back side of the door, the light dusting of baking powder on the bedroom carpet, but not surprised.

It’s not unlike him, to make himself known and then suddenly disappear, the endless mind games partially intentional, and partially something not even he can control.

After all, duty calls.

He could still be in the city. He could still be watching. You don’t know anything for sure.

“Three things you cannot outrun in this world, babe. Death, taxes, and… me.” You mumble it to yourself, the same words that live in your head, in his voice, repeated, pulling a pair of scrubs from your dresser.

But you had been running, and still had your life to show for it.

It doesn’t matter, you know how this will end. 

You’ve changed your clothes five times. You hem and haw in front of the mirror, trying not to look too closely at any one piece of yourself, switching shirt and pant combos until you finally settle on your usual, a pair of jeans and a long sleeve shirt. They’re high waisted, because low rise is not even within the realm of possibility for your hips, and you appreciate how they fit, even if they may sit a little loose right now, given your recent stress levels.

You look fine, you decide. You look professional. You don’t really look attractive, in any way, but the scars on your torso are hidden, and with a little bit of make-up, you think you look presentable. At the very least, you don’t look like you’re half asleep, which is exactly how you feel.

Not like it matters, you chide. This isn’t a thing; it’s just hanging out. You’re going to put an end to this entire charade, tonight.

The train is quiet, and you’re extra watchful. Every face, every movement is logged, every jacket or hat or hood is inspected. Posture, skin tone, height, of every person you pass or see is tabulated and run through your mind. Your brain, a supercomputer in its own right, does it all, seamlessly. It wants to protect you, it keeps you on guard, it can look at a crowd of twenty people all facing the opposite direction and locate a potential threat, just by the shape of the shoulders.

You don’t see him, you don’t feel him, your skin doesn’t prickle, and you let the lack thereof bring you peace, if only for a few moments.

Johnny’s floor is bustling. You wave hi to those you know, checking in with his nurse for a moment, letting her know you’ll be hanging out for a bit. She doesn’t even bat an eye, thankfully, and you try to settle yourself as you turn down the hall.

You’re not prepared for what you find when you knock on his door and slide it open, breath catching for a moment, and you scramble to cover your initial balk.

Their daughter is here. She’s cuddled up on Johnny’s good side, the one without the burnt tissue or recovering surgical wound. She’s asleep, wearing a black onesie covered in skulls, her head tipped back and mouth open, chubby cheeks and sweet little face perfectly content. She’s got her entire fist wrapped around one of Johnny’s fingers, holding it right under her chin like she’s afraid he might vanish while her eyes are closed. “Hey, bun.” Johnny whispers, smiling so wide, two fingers stroking through the wispy curls on top of her head. “We snuck in a visitor tonight.”

“I see.” Your heart trembles.

“Fell asleep right away, next to her Da. Been missin’ him these past few nights.” Simon chuckles, patting Johnny’s leg gently, affectionately. There’s a bag of take out on the table behind him, as well as what looks like an overnight bag, a purple duffel stuffed full. “Price is on his way to pick her up.” Penny gurgles, eyes blinking open in a sleepy daze like she knew they were talking about her.

“Ye’re alright, sh-shh, wee lamb.” Johnny coos. She’s half soothed by his words, but the lights in the room are far too bright, and her small noises waver into a cry, frustrated and tired. He tries move her, cradler her higher up his chest, but his face falls with pain, and Simon swoops in, pulling her into his arms. “Bunny, could ye-“

“Would you-“ They both try to ask at once, and you flounder once you realize the intention, a cranky, sleepy Penelope being pushed into your arms.

“I-“ she wails, interrupting you, bending you to her will without fuss, and you hold her closer, rocking side to side, humming above her ear. Just like the NICU, like a patient, like your stint in L&D, it’s fine, it’s-

“Sorry, sweetheart.” Not fine. It’s not fine. Heat burns in your belly. He can’t call you that, not when you’re holding their baby. “Thank you.” Simon says over his shoulder. He’s moving Johnny, lowering the bed slightly to help reposition him, and they speak quietly to one another, voices low enough you can’t make out any of the words.

“I can help you with him, if you want.” He waves you off.

“I need the practice, won’t have you around all the time anymore, yeah? And once he gets home…”

“Ach. ‘m not paralyzed. Jus’ uncomfortable.” Johnny glowers, pouting, and you roll your eyes, rhythm steady, gently bouncing, letting Penny cuddle into your chest, snuggling her face against your arm and side. She’s beautiful, precious and sweet, cooing herself back into a light slumber, and you smile despite yourself, still rocking after her eyes start to shut. “Knew she’d like ye.” He says softly, and you glance up, surprised by the intensity of their focus, heavy gazes fixed on you.

“She’s very sweet.” Your lips twist.

“She is.” Simon agrees. “We were happy to get her some time with her Da. Good for both of ‘em.” His fingers find Johnny’s cheek, and then their hands meet, a palm pressed to lips, a whispered a I love you. 

An intimate moment, as you stand there with their baby in your arms.

“Alright, now that ye’ve done the hard work by gettin’ her back down,” Johnny gestures, urging you to step forward, and you carefully place her back in his arms. For a moment, your faces are level, and you get caught in his eyes, nerves strung so tight they could be a tightrope. “I’ve got her.” Weeks in the hospital, and he still smells like cedar and oranges, woodsy citrus that envelopes you, your lashes fluttering on the inhale. “She likes ye.” He murmurs, breath warm and tickling over your cheek.

“Well, she’s...” you straighten, hands smoothing down the front of your top. They’re moist, somehow, and you tuck them behind your back. “She’s a good judge of character, I guess.” Simon’s phone vibrates, Johnny’s plush smile turning dour, and he sighs.

“Okay baby girl. It’s time.” She cries a little, readjusting to Simon’s hold, and he slings the purple duffel over his shoulder, promising to be right back. Johnny nods, eyes downcast, and his face twists once the door shuts, cheeks turning red, staccato, hiccupped breaths coming fast.

“Hey.” You whisper. “Hey, Johnny.” The chair at his bedside creaks under you, and you lean forward, fingertips lightly caressing the tape residue that still sticks to his skin. You should clean that off. 

“’m alright.” His shoulders roll, chin jutting out, brilliant blue gleam in his eyes returning, like storm clouds rolling off after rain. He’s silent for a beat, pinky finger folding over yours. “How was yer day?”

“Oh, it was… fine.”

“Simon said ye were goin’ to catch up on some sleep?”

“Yeah, I didn’t.” You laugh, and he smiles. “I feel okay though. Still awake at least.”

“I’m glad… ye came. I’m sorry if the other night, I was too… forward.”

“That’s okay. You’re just… so flirty, I don’t even know what to do with myself.” You tease, expecting to get a lighthearted quip in response, or a laugh, but he gives you neither, only a serious, sympathetic expression.

“I didnae mean to make ye uncomfortable. Felt terrible, when ye ran off, I-“

“I’m fine, Johnny. You… you didn’t. I mean, it was just… confusing, this is… this is a lot.” He nods.

“I know it is.”

“And you don’t even know me.” His brow creases, focus narrowed in so tightly on you, white walls, white hospital blanket, white everything falling away in a spiral of color.

“I know ye better than ye might think." He cracks a smile. "We want to, if ye’d let us.” No, you don’t. You almost say it. Almost promise him that knowing you would be the stuff of their nightmares, that they have no idea what they’re trying to bite into, or bite off, a near guarantee that it would be than they could chew.

“Well, no harm in making new friends, right?” You entreat weakly, and his eyes flash, ethos of an entire life that you have no knowledge of slipping through, and the dark severity rumbling in his gaze sends a shiver down your spine.

“Aye, bun. Especially when they look like ye in a pair of jeans.” 

Dinner is an idyllic affair. Johnny’s favorite takeaway turns out, is Indian, like yours, and the three of you talk for hours, trading bites back and forth, laughing and listening to stories, discovering little bits and pieces about their lives while running interference on personal questions about yourself, allowing them to dip in skin deep, skimming off the top but never getting further. They tell you about themselves, Penelope, their jobs, how they met, and Johnny confides in you about his sketchbook collection, pages upon pages of charcoal and pencil line work, portraits of Simon and Pen covering each page, landscapes, and the occasional cartoon. Your spine eventually starts to wilt, muscles liquifying into goo that can barely hold you upright, and you curl up in the armchair, chin on your palm, listening to the ebb and flow of their voices as they tell you a particular story about how they came to find their current home, a near slapstick comedy about an interaction with the previous owner. Their voices soothe your restless mind, wrap you in a cozy embrace that feels so safe, so comfortable that you can’t fight the languid, siren call of sleep, eyes drooping into darkness, drifting away on their melodies, content and too tired to rationally put together what’s happening. At some point, something covers you up, knit warmth that is tucked in around your shoulders, your feet, a tender touch on your neck and cheek. A whisper of affection soothes the unease that lurks in the background of it all, and you fall into it lazily, farther into the hold of sleep, something your brain and body are desperate for.

When the lights go dim, you don’t even realize, already lost to the sand of slumber.

Around midnight, you wake with a start. Your heart is racing, triple timing in your chest, and you squint in the dark, trying to parse together where you are, what happened.

Oh no. Oh god, did you fall asleep on them? Did you fall asleep in Johnny’s room? 

Simon calls your name. He’s settled in a recliner, head turned your direction, mellow light from the little lamp spilling across his features. “Are you alright?” Your mouth is dry, the web of sleep that holds you in suspension finally starting to wane, fuzzy clouds in your head trying to clear without much luck.  

“How long was I out?”

“Four hours.”

“I’m so sorry.” He shakes his head.

“Wanted to let you sleep. I know you were tired, and Johnny was out almost immediately after you.”

“Th-thanks.” Your back groans, muscle and bone grinding together, stiff from sleeping in a cramped position for hours, and you’re surprisingly unsteady on your feet. Simon’s out of his chair in a second, turning around the end of Johnny’s bed to offer you a hand, his other lightly resting between your shoulder blades.

“Easy.”

“Sorry… just… think ‘m more tired than I realized.” It’s dark, and you’re disorientated, woozy, tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth, limbs and lids still heavy and desperate to fall back asleep.

“I’ll drive you home.” His keys jingle, and you know you should reject him, refute this presumption, push him off, but you can’t string the right words together in your mind, can’t bring yourself to truculently pull away.

So, you don’t. And to your surprise, your shock, it feels… nice. You let him open the door for you, get you settled, you listen to his music on the way, city flying past outside the window, quiet hour of the night crawling by. You let him help you out of the car when you pull up to the curb, and when he asks if he can walk you up, your rational pugnacity is nowhere to be found.

“This is me.” You gesture to the door, fumbling in your wallet for your keycard.

“How long have you been in the hotel?”

“Oh, not long. Reno just started so…” His head turns, surveilling the hallway. You’re in an end room, far from the elevator but close to the stairs, as requested, and there’s a camera that sits on the ceiling, green dot consistently blinking. He glances at it, then back to you, head tilted.

“Are you safe here?” The world goes cold. Your stomach roils, blood draining from your face, and you try to hold yourself steady, mind turning over a million times. You’re overreacting. He’s just asking in a general sense. He doesn’t know. He couldn’t. Breathe. Deep breath. 

“I uh, yeah. It’s got a deadbolt.” Along with a door stop alarm, and a security bar. He steps closer, so close that you can smell him, fresh laundry and musk, something spicy lingering there, something dark and enchanting.

“Are you in trouble, little bunny?” You’re in his shadow, beneath the stretch of a mountain, shielded by it, by a monolith so large it could blot out the sun. It overwhelms you, slows the racing pace of your mind, and you try to sort through the merry go round of feelings that are all trying to push their way out of your mouth.

You’ve never felt this. Never felt this… desire, to entrust someone with your life. Never felt this… attraction, this hold that the two of them have on you.

It makes you want to trust them. Makes you want to lay it all out and beg them to help you. Makes you want to close your eyes and leap, praying they’ll catch you.

It’s wicked. It’s dangerous. It’s a fool’s errand.

It’s unfair. 

“No.” You whisper. You can’t look at him, and time slows in the silence, your anxiety piquing. Of course, he would assume something is wrong, after witnessing the panic attack. Don’t read too far into it. 

“But you wouldn’t tell me if you were, would you?” He’s pragmatic, yet still kind, watching you with intent. It doesn’t allay any of the stress that’s building up the back of your throat and closing it, cutting you off from the oxygen you desperately need.

After an eon, he sighs.

“Okay, sweetheart. You can keep your secrets. For now.” You choke. 

“I… I should probably-“ you jerk your head towards the door, half turning away to swipe your keycard.

“Alright.” He moves carefully, dipping low, and you stand immobilized, confused and quivering as his cloth covered mouth presses a slow kiss to the top of your head. It’s like he’s bewitched you, cursed you, and you can’t do anything but stand there, stunned. “Thanks for coming tonight.” You’re a deer in headlights, a rabbit in a scope.

“Simon.” His name is the only thing you know right now, and it comes out reedy, almost a squeak.

“Get some rest. We’ll text you tomorrow.” He pushes the door wide, arm snaked behind your shoulders, and when you don’t move, he urges you forward, an encouraging hand on the small of your back. Your feet blindly stumble through the motions, searching for the light switch, for your sanity. “Goodnight, bun.” He hums, and the door clicks shut, leaving you alone, staring at the beige-yellow paint on the wall.

The afternoon trains are packed. It makes your skin crawl, not because you dislike busy or hectic places, but because there are too many eyes. You force your head to stay up, casually scrolling past the faces that are turned every which way, keeping your back to a corner or window as often as possible. You’re not sure you even needed to take this route, the one where you loop around and change trains twice, but… old habits die hard.

You’re lighter today, mentally. It’s in your steps on the stairs, the way you tilt your face up to the sun, how you bounce and bob a little along to the rhythm in your headphones.

You try not to read into it, too much. You tell yourself it has nothing to do with the good morning text messages from Johnny and Simon, or the hilarious back and forth between them after Simon sent a god-awful joke to the group chat. It has nothing to do with the heat that spreads through your fingers to toes when you think about Simon last night, kissing your forehead.

You slip inside your apartment, popping your headphones free, glancing at the tape and the door jam, before setting your bag on the counter. You idly sort through some mail you left out the other day. Junk, junk, junk, nothing taxing or important, nothing work related or-

A shadow moves. It flickers against the wall by your bedroom, growing larger, stalking closer to the kitchen, to where you stand, frozen, heart pounding in your ears. 

This can’t be real. This can’t be happening. 

“Hey there, sugar.” He croons, the thick, Texas accent unmistakable, and you breathe his name in horror.

“Phillip.”

#peaches writes #simple math #ghoap x reader #ghost x soap x reader #soap x reader x ghost #simon riley #john soap mactavish #simon riley x reader #soap x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #ghost x reader x soap #ghost x reader

[bystarlightlore]

first things first: my boys are so touchy & affectionate with each other & it's the cutest, most adorable thing on planet earth.

i die.

moving on...

sweet alex, he’s all heart. prattling along, just as happy as he can be. 

it’s integral to watch our sunshine boy in this scene. 

the book & film are both from alex’s perspective, but there’s one thing that we’re afforded between the pages that doesn’t fully make it on screen — his emotional & cognitive layers. & that’s not anybody’s fault & it doesn’t make the film any less incredible, that’s just how adaptations occur sometimes. you can’t translate everything on screen & honestly, that’s the way it should be. some things can just stay in the written story.

tzp did a marvelous job of pulling some of those pieces from the story & threading them into alex’s movements, expressions, & actions. he gave us everything that he could & he did it phenomenally. i can’t imagine anyone else being our alex. i can’t get over how perfectly he was casted.

all this to reiterate, it’s so key to watch alex here.

we get to see some of his layers. he goes from playful, to pensive, to deeply sincere — “i’ve never felt this way about anyone” — & from there, he shifts into an incredibly exposed emotional space & you see him gather himself, working through his words & trying to share his heart in the most fluent way he can.

“it’s like there’s a rope attached to my chest & it keeps pulling me towards you.”

there’s never been a moment in his life where can’t share exactly how he feels. he’s always been free to do so. for alex, there was never a question about if he’d tell henry, the question was what he’d tell henry, & once he solved the what, he could proceed with the when. 

his mom asked if he felt ‘forever’ about henry & he didn’t consciously know at the time. (i’m a firm believer in the fact that they’ve been in love all along but that’s not the topic right now.) he watches henry in the bar & that’s where he figures it out. the next step is to tell him. point a to b. no detours. 

“& it feels so right”

all heart, all the time. our sunshine boy.

i don’t see fear here, i rarely do in alex, but i do see timidity. so with our eyes on him in this scene, we watch him waffle through his words, barreling toward the inevitable.

he stays in physical contact with henry the entire time — running his hands along his forearm, tangling their fingers together, tracing circles on henry’s wrist & back. i think he needs it here just as much as he wants it.

the most that alex has ever discovered & understood about himself has been through touching henry. he knows himself best when he’s skin-to-skin with the man he loves.

this moment cannot be any different.

—- “what i mean to say is, henry, i—“ 

i’d give anything to hear it come out of his mouth fully here. i want to know how it sounds under the texas sun — someplace as bright & warm as he is.

alex has never had to fear his own heart; even in the moments where he wasn't sure where it was going. after the NYE kiss, he went to nora to grapple with his feelings & he tried to talk to henry about it, but he never, ever shied away from how he felt. he wasn't raised to. following that giant, gorgeous heart is in his nature. he's always been encouraged to be exactly who he is.

the same cannot be said for our prince.

our mythic, beautiful boy. he literally looks like he's crumbling here. mournful, finite cracks in his glistening, alabaster stone. an absolute masterpiece withered by expectation, tainted legacies, hopeless hopes, & crippling fears.

he has to shy away. he doesn't believe or even entertain the idea that he might have a choice. to be so in love, but so trapped that your love can tangle its roots into the earth, but never bloom.

distance & longing take up far too much space in those stunning hazel eyes. it's all too much for him here. no fight or fawn, just freeze and flight. he did it all in expression: from pure bliss, to the dawn of fear, to desperate wanting, to heartbreak, to retreat. (nicholas galitzine, you wonderfully gifted creature)

in our prince’s head, it doesn’t matter how bad he wants to hear the words. it doesn’t matter if he’s loved alex & wanted alex all this time. his heart — their hearts — are of no consequence to the trajectory of their lives. & so, despite all this time; despite everything that’s passed between them in the past year — the firsts & the tender moments, the texts, calls, & emails, the falling in love — henry does the one thing he’s always had to do, lock himself up & run away. just like he did on new year’s eve.

alex has spent a year working him loose; making him feel as free & loved & authentic as he possibly can. he’s kneaded every tight curve, massaged every tensioned inch. & henry has put in the same amount of work learning to allow himself to be cared for. for someone to see his bright places, his passions, his wittiness, tenacity, & sparks.

our boys have grown so much & yet sadly, in a moment, terror bends henry back into an ill -fitting place.

the progress isn’t lost, just tucked away. fear is one hell of a keeper.

& you see him dressed up again in his suit. ramrod straight, prim & proper, the closed-off prince of england’s hearts that climbed out of his car to meet alex at kensington a year ago. a man of few words & little feeling. because there’s too much risk in feeling. feeling leads you to a dock in the middle of the lake in texas, listening to the man you love willing & ready to love you back, but you can’t be overjoyed — because you’re terrified.

grab your tissues, kids. im sure as hell grabbing mine.

#rwrb #rwrb movie #red white and royal blue #alex claremont diaz #prince henry rwrb #taylor zakhar perez #nicholas galitzine #firstprince

[moreau03]

Nora did not state that Andrew never heals when continuing the course of the canon ending—in fact, you will find the contrary if you search for the word in the extra context document. I believe that this misconception came from her describing Andrew’s inability to express pleasure by smiling or laughing as people typically do, with him doing these things infrequently, and a false interpretation was made and spread through hearsay. And I find this assumption by the fans to be ableist.

Reduced affect display is a symptom of PTSD, schizophrenia, autism, and mood disorders. Lacking reactivity is not the same as lacking sensation, so, not smiling does not mean that he is unhappy, etc; but even if Andrew did have anhedonia - the reduced ability to experience pleasure - it would not mean that he is not healing or recovering.

The term healing is so frequently egregiously misused that I really shouldn't be offended, but, I digress: healing is not when you reach a point of stable bliss or an immunity to the symptoms of a condition. That is a dangerously unachievable idea to sell to traumatized or ill people, because recovery is not linear.

A lot of people don't understand the difference between treatable and curable - bipolar disorder is not curable. Andrew does not seem to want to attempt to find a suitable medication cocktail after his first trial, either. His depressive episodes are described as being longer and more pronounced than his (hypo)manic episodes, so it should really not be surprising that he... experiences symptoms of chemically unmanaged depression. Again, none of this means that he is not healing or recovering.

#aftg #andrew minyard #all for the game #nora sakavic

[thatsdemko]

little streamer - l.norris

dad + family works collection

pairings: dad!lando norris x mom!reader

warnings: fluff + minor grammar errors= lightly proofread

a/n: inspired by @starkwlkr’s fic banned

he never meant to walk away for too long. what was supposed to be a quick visit to the bathroom turned into a phone call with max and a quick fix of lunch. in all of that time he had the slightest clue his daughter, Nora, had came in from her play room to his office.

she climbs into the chair, careful to make sure it doesn’t spin away from her while she gets in and pulls herself closer to the monitors in front of her.

she doesn’t know where to look, but she sees comments popping up, giggle begins to escape her lips when she reads “where’s your dad?”, “what are you doing here?” the list continues on.

lando hears the giggling, he assumes it’s coming from the play room and continues to chat on with max, two of them talking about the next quadrant video and other topics that come his way.

“you do realize Nora is in the stream right?” max laughs, he’s trying to get the little girl off from his end, but ignorance is her bliss as she shows off her dance moves to the viewers.

lando could’ve sworn his own heart stopped in that moment, face flushing white, “no?” he quickly rises from his seat the dinning room table, rushing to his office where she in fact is in front of the screen.

“hi, no, no thank you.” he swoops Nora up into his arms, quickly ending the stream without saying a goodbye, and he collapses into the chair, “how long have you been on?”

she shrugs, “I don’t know!”

lando knew you’d be pissed, you both tried to hide Nora’s face from the media as much as possible, but now the world saw that cute little smile that was identical to her fathers, “lando! where are you?! I saw your stream!”

“we are in trouble.”

“we?!”

#lando norris #lando norris blurb #lando norris fic #lando norris imagine #lando norris drabble #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fluff #f1 fanfic #f1 imagines #f1 imagine #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 driver x you #f1 driver x reader #f1 fluff #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 x you #formula 1 imagine #ln4

[sl-ut]

new years eve

more college!abby

HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE! THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE PUBLISHED A WHILE AGO, BUT LIKE I MENTIONED BEFORE, A LOT OF SHIT CAME UP AND DIDN’T LET ME FINISH ANYTHING THAT I’VE BEEN WORKING ON. TYSM FOR YOUR PATIENCE, AND ENJOY!

also tysm to @princesssmars for giving me permission to steal her idea lol ily babe.

pairing: college!abby anderson x fem!reader

description: abby invites y/n on her friends’ annual new years ski trip! five days of uninterrupted fun at a private chalet with abby, her friends, her ex boyfriend, and his current girlfriend who seems to have some kind of vendetta against them both. 

warnings: UNEDITED, smut (not a lot tbh), swearing, alcohol consumption, mentions of drug use, owen is really mean to reader, homophobia, a lot of sweet little moments between abby and reader

words: 7.4K

date posted: 07/01/24

Y/n knew she wasn’t exactly the most welcome on this trip, they didn’t even try to hide it. The only exception to this would be, of course, Nora, who’d been the one to set her up with Abby in the first place, and Manny, who genuinely seemed like the only one who didn’t seem bothered by her presence at all times. Not wanting to impose on a seemingly very strict tradition, Y/n initially declined her girlfriend’s offer to spend New Years Eve together in Aspen, which didn’t go over as well with Abby as she had expected.

“They don’t mind, really.” She tried to reassure her, only to be met with a knowing look, “Okay, a few of them feel that we shouldn’t bring people outside of our friend group, but think about it; Owen and Mel are both going, Leah is bringing Jordan…” Then came the ultimatum of, “No, if you don’t go, I don’t go.”

The threat was more than what Abby’s words even said. The cabin belonged to Abby’s grandparents, and were more than enthusiastic about their sole grandchild using it with her friends over the holidays, but were stern with the condition that Abby was not to let them go up and destroy it. To summarise, if Abby didn’t go, nobody did, and Y/n was certain that her friends would hate her less if she joined them than if she caused the entire trip to be cancelled.

So there she was on the twenty-ninth of December, tightly belted into the front seat of Abby’s Bronco on the road to Aspen. The drive wasn’t terrible, only a few hours from Abby’s childhood home just outside of Salt Lake city, though Abby made it sort of enjoyable by making a road-trip playlist and barely taking her large hand away from her girlfriend’s thigh throughout the remainder of the journey. 

The chalet was more than Y/n even had the ability to imagine. It looked like it was straight out of a movie; high ceilings, wooden panelling lining the entire interior, large windows looking out over a snow-covered valley, all that was missing was for the pair of them to snuggle up together in front of the wide stone fireplace, which was bound to happen at some point over the holiday. As she ran her fingertips over the glazed butcher block counters, she was thankful that the others wouldn’t be arriving until the next day, giving them more time to fulfil the fantasies that had been racing through her mind since setting foot inside the chalet. 

Abby was eager to give the full tour, looking delightfully in-place in her tight jeans and cream coloured cable knit sweater. She left no room or corner alone, using little anecdotes and stories from her childhood to help her feel more at home, and finishing by explaining exactly how she would fuck her in each and every room. Y/n laughed and brushed it off in the moment, but came to realise that she was dead serious when she could barely move her legs to crawl out of bed the next morning.

The sweet bliss was finally interrupted by the rest of the crew making their arrivals. First came Leah and Jordan, who immediately rushed to the next biggest room and then made their way to the jacuzzi on the deck. Then came Manny and Nora, who couldn’t seem to get to the kitchen fast enough, before finally, Mel and Owen quietly made their way in, offering silent greetings to their friends before going straight to their bedroom, which didn’t seem to bode well with Mel, who’s complaints carried through the entire ventilation system of the house. 

The others seemed to have no patience for their drama, all clearly picking up on the fact that they must have fought the entire drive, as well as the thick tension that filled the room whenever they were both present. Instead, they all gathered in the kitchen for a late lunch and began pouring drinks, loud laughter overwhelming the hushed argument escaping the vent. Y/n was a little surprised to see that even Abby had reached for a second beer, the merriment in the kitchen and the overall excitement for the holiday seeming more important to her in that moment than her otherwise strict fitness regimen, though she really didn’t mind. In fact, she sort of liked the way that she had been looser than she normally would have been, gliding her hands across Y/n’s body without care, laughing along carelessly to jokes that she normally would’ve only chuckled at. She was more open with the group, and made sure to keep Y/n involved in the conversation even when the others talked over top of her. 

The atmosphere felt warm, like they were spending time with their closest family members. Manny showed off his mixology skills, which were mediocre at best, while Nora and Abby whipped up a luxurious rendition of pasta with a side salad, all of which seemed to disappear in a matter of minutes, leaving barely enough for both Mel and Owen to split between themselves once they finally re-emerged from their shared bedroom. 

The sun was beginning to set early, thanks to the shorter days of winter, leaving poor Manny no other option but to wait until morning until he could finally hit the slopes. Instead, he found interest in offering constant refills to everyone in order to, as he put it, boost morale. Abby had taken the initiative to cut herself off, wanting to make sure she still had her wits about her while also being able to relax, and made sure to warn Y/n about Manny’s drinks.

“He calls himself a mixologist,” She’d whispered into her girlfriend’s ear, “But I’d say he’s more of a wizard. He makes drinks so strong, but somehow covers up the taste of the liquor.”

That was the first and final time that Y/n ignored a warning from Abby, soon enough finding herself stumbling out the door in just her bathing suit, ears completely deaf to everyone’s questions of concern for the nearly naked girl in the cold weather as she clambered into the jacuzzi. She grinned, watching as Abby followed closely behind her, along with Manny, Nora, and Leah.

She snuggled up against Abby’s side, relishing in the weight of her thick bicep around her shoulder as she only half-listened to whatever Nora was trying to fill her in on, and babbling on about some nonsense that no one really had much interest in hearing, but they all listened in and responded as if she were telling the most interesting tale to ever exist. 

Once Leah and Nora took over the conversation, she turned to stare up at her girlfriend with glossy eyes, grinning stupidly at the mere sight of her face.

“What?” Abby laughed when she finally took notice.

Y/n shrugged, answering as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, “Nothing, just thinking about how much I love you.”

Abby’s already flushed cheeks darkened, but she was quick to press a longing kiss to her forehead and return the sentiment lovingly. 

“No,” Y/n frowned, “You don’t understand, I love you. I love how smart you are, I love how you make me laugh, I love how you make me feel loved, I love how you make me feel.”

Abby glanced around at the others to ensure that they weren’t overhearing this intimate conversation. Thankfully, Manny was too wrapped up in making sure that Nora was correctly recounting the time that he successfully hooked up with his TA and bumped his grade up.

“I love your abs, and your big beefy arms.” Y/n continued, leaning her head back against the bulging muscle to emphasise her point, “I love your fingers, too. And of course I love your face, and your pretty eyes, and your nose–God I love your nose, I just wanna sit on it–”

All conversation seemed to stop as the patio door creaked open, all heads turning in surprise to see Owen standing in the doorway, swimming trunks hanging low on his hips and a towel slung over his shoulder. 

“Room for one more?”

Manny was the first to break the silence, “Of course, man. We all thought you guys were just calling it for the night.”

The blond furrowed his brow, “What, you guys really thought you could replace me so easily?”

The words were so obviously aimed at his ex-girlfriend and the girl curled into her side, and if she hadn’t been so intoxicated, this probably would have been enough to send Y/n off the rails when it came to Owen. Instead, Abby took the reins in order to diffuse the situation. 

“Are you gonna get in or are you gonna keep on bitching, Moore?” 

He looked equally as pleased and displeased with her dual-sided tone, both wanting to keep things light while also warning him not to start anything. 

“Yeah, yeah,” He tossed his towel to the side and climbed in, taking a seat next to Leah and directly across from Abby. “Whatever.”

The group sat in silence for a few moments before Y/n finally chimed in, “Where’s Mel? Is she coming down?”

He seemed to be visibly annoyed by either the question or by her, probably both. “She’s upstairs, not feeling too well.”

“Oh,” She nodded along, “That’s too bad, I think she really would’ve liked whatever drink Manny just made me.”

Manny grinned at the credit, “I call it, dulce peligro.”

Nora snorted, “Sweet danger? That’s a little on the nose, even for you, don’t you think?”

“Hey, when you start mixing up drinks like that, then you get a say, ‘kay?”

Owen’s stern tone cut through the playful nature of their bickering, “Not likely. None of us really come up here and get sloshed anymore, I guess we’ve all just matured past that.”

Embarrassment crept up her throat, causing tears to spring into her eyes from his clear disapproval of her current state. Nora and Leah shared an uncomfortable stare, both seemingly ready to grab Abby before she could make a move against him, her disbelief and anger so clear on her face. 

“Well I definitely haven’t,” Manny chuckled awkwardly, “Besides, the holidays are the only time of the year where it's actually encouraged to get shitfaced.”

“Yeah,” Nora jumped in, “The night’s still young, and most of us probably aren’t even gonna remember tonight.”

Their words had obviously been a mere attempt at bringing comfort to the younger girl, whose face betrayed the insecurity that was very rapidly eating away at her drunken confidence from the inside out. Her eyes had become even glossier, and her heaving breaths made it clear that she was on the verge of tears. 

“No,” She wiped at her nose with the back of her hand, “He’s right, I think it’s time I put myself to bed.”

Abby grabbed her hand as she stood up, carefully stepping over her girlfriend’s legs and onto the steps that lead out onto the deck, “Hey, hey, don’t go yet. You’re having fun.”

Y/n could tell she was trying to keep her cool, not wanting to put the other three of her friends in the position of hearing her and Owen fighting once again. She shook her head, stepping out onto the pine floor and wrapping herself in the fluffy white robe that Abby had brought out for her, “I’m tired, I might go take a shower and then just go to bed.”

Abby nodded, standing from her own seat and moving to climb out after her, “Alright, I’m gonna hit the hay too, guys.”

“Aww,” Nora whined, “Guys don’t go yet.”

“Stay,” Y/n turned to Abby, offering a weak smile, “I’m just… tired. You don’t have to come to bed yet.”

“Let me walk you up,” She was practically begging at this point, wanting to comfort her girlfriend when she was so obviously upset. 

“C’mon Abs, she’s a big girl. I’m sure she can go to sleep without being tucked in for just one night.”

Abby scowled at him, turning to him with intent as she growled at him, “What the hell is your problem?”

It was true, as bad as Owen usually was when Y/n was around, he was usually only passive aggressive, but now he was just being downright mean. If Abby hadn’t already gone to hell and back trying to convince her friend to let Y/n come (even though she really didn’t give them a choice), Y/n wasn’t about to let the whole vacation be ruined by her pride, choosing to allow Owen’s words to slide rather than biting back as she usually would. 

“Abs, it’s okay,” Y/n tried again. 

“No I don’t think-”

Nora was the next person to step out of the tub, “You know, I’m starting to get a little pruny anyways, so why don’t I help her to bed?”

Abby appeared annoyed at Nora’s intrusion, but allowed her to pull Y/n away from the situation and back into the chalet, leaving Leah and Manny to face the intense staredown between her and Owen before they, too, fled the scene, allowing the real fighting to start.

Hardly an hour had passed since Y/n had curled herself into bed, not even bothering to get herself ready at all aside from removing her bathing suit and snuggling back into the fluffy robe, leaving her surprised when her light sleep was broken by the feeling of the mattress sinking next to her. Abby looked tired, irritation clear on her face as she slumped against the headboard with a quiet sigh. Her eyes softened as she turned to glance at her girlfriend, an apologetic smile crossing her features when their eyes met. 

“Sorry baby, didn’t mean to wake you.”

“‘S okay,” Y/n’s words were slurred with sleep, “‘M sorry too.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Owen’s just being a…he’s being a stupid prick.”

Y/n pushed herself up, scooching across the mattress to snuggle into her girlfriend’s side as sighing at the comforting weight of her arm around her shoulder, “I know but… I don’t know. I guess I can see why he’s annoyed. I’m not one of you guys, I know how I would feel if one of my friends invited their partners to join our traditions.”

“It’s not even about that, it’s–” she cut herself off, a deep frown cutting into her cheeks, “It’s nothing. Let’s just forget it.” She hugged Y/n tighter to her chest, pressing a long kiss to the crown of her head. “I love you, you know that, right?”

Y/n lifted her head, concern filling her at her girlfriend’s tone, “Is something wrong? Did something happen with Owen?”

Abby looked alarmed, “What–No, no. Nothing happened. I promise.”

“Good,” Y/n nuzzled her head back into her shoulder, “‘Cause I’ll kick his ass.”

Abby snorted, “I’m sure you would. Now go back to sleep, I’m gonna go take a shower and I’ll be back.”

Y/n whined, “Are you punishing me or something?”

Abby cocked her head in confusion.

“No invitation?”

A knowing smirk appeared on the blonde’s lips, “I don’t know if you know what you’re asking for here, baby.”

Y/n pushed herself away from Abby, crawling to stand at the foot of the bed as she slowly backed up towards the bathroom, hips swaying seductively as she untied her robe and let it slowly glide down her arms until it hit the floor with a soft thud, leaving her bare for her girlfriend’s viewing pleasure. She bit her lip, fluttering her lashes as she whispered a response, “I think I do.”

Abby grinned, moving faster than Y/n’s brain could even register to race towards her and haul her body over her shoulder as she rushed into the large ensuite. She reached the shower, turning the water on to allow it to heat up for a few moments before she placed her girlfriend onto the marble countertop. 

Y/n’s brain swirled with pleasure as the seconds ticked by, the room slowly heating up as steam curled around the glass wall of the insanely oversized shower, feelings only heightened from the bit of alcohol still in her system and her girlfriend’s hands and lips roaming around her body. 

“Abs,” she gasped out as her fingers massaged her inner thigh, “I think the water’s ready.”

Despite her previous flurry of attention, Abby seemed to have settled down the moment that they set foot in the shower, relishing in the casual intimacy of carefully washing each other’s hair, lathering one another in a foamy vanilla scented body wash, and just holding each other under the hot water. After all was said and done, Abby pulled her back against her chest, one arm wrapping around her waist and the other curling around her shoulders to hold her in place. Y/n leaned her head back, staring up at the taller blonde with droopy eyelids. 

“I love you too.”

“Huh?”

Y/n giggled, “I never said it back earlier, so I am now.”

Abby shook her head, leaning down to press a kiss to her soft lips, “I love you more.”

“I love you more.”

“I love you to the moon and back ten times.”

“Well I love you times infinity!”

“Infinity?” Abby whistled, tightening her arms around her, “Don’t know if I can beat that.”

Scoffing in mock offence, Y/n turned her head to sink her teeth into the meaty bulge of Abby’s bicep, just biting hard enough to leave the faintest of teeth marks in her burning skin.

“Hey!” Abby grunted, twirling her around to face her, “I bring you on this nice vacation, I make you dinner, I drive you around, I rock your world whenever you ask,” her face grew closer with every statement, “And this is the thanks I get?”

Y/n squealed at the feeling of her fingers digging into her sides, leaning up to press their foreheads together, “I suppose you’re right, I’m sorry.” Her hands moved from their places on her biceps, gliding up her slick skin to her neck, then down over her chest, one finding purchase on one of her toned breasts, the other pressing into her firm abdomen, massaging the protruding muscles appreciatively, “Can I make it up to you?”

Abby didn’t respond, instead gripping the back of her head and slamming their lips together, teeth clashing and tongues fighting for dominance, though the fight was over within seconds as Abby forced her girlfriend into submission. She allowed her to press her against the wall, her shorter frame pressing against her so tightly that it would seem they were connected, then seemingly made the move to flip them around until Y/n pulled back.

“Nuh-uh, I’m making it up to you, remember?” Her hand slid even lower, resting against her lower belly just above the thick patch of blonde curls between her legs. 

“Baby, you don’t have to–oh,” Her words came to a halt as her fingers grazed against her clit. 

It was a fight that they had on the regular, Abby always feeling like she had to be on the giving end, and not the receiving. To be quite fair, there was never a time where Abby didn’t finish during sex with Y/n, but she seemed to be determined to only allow it happen either against the harness of her strap or directly against Y/n’s own centre. Hell, they’d been seeing each other for almost two months before she even let Y/n go down on her for the first time. She was a giver, and tended to find pleasure in giving, but was growing to enjoy the aspect of receiving just as much.

“Just let me,” Y/n whispered against the wet skin of her neck, lips pressing against her jugular with an indescribable softness. “Can I? Please?”

After finally receiving the green light, Y/n wasted no time in dropping to her knees, nudging Abby’s feet apart as she slid her hands over her thick thighs, lips and tongue gliding along the trembling muscles until the tip of her nose was met with the coarse hair covering her pubis. 

A soft grunt fell from Abby’s lips at the contact, chuckling at the feeling of her girlfriend’s nose prodding even further inwards, poking at her clit.

“Spread your legs, baby,” Y/n murmured, mouth barely parting from the skin of her inner thigh as she spoke, carefully scooching in closer as Abby complied, even slinging one of her calves over her shoulder to offer better access. “Thank you.”

Abby laughed, “Look at you, on your knees for me and still so polite. Such a good girl.”

Y/n moaned at the words, finally moving her mouth to drag her tongue up the entire length of Abby’s cunt, whining at the taste of Abby’s dripping nectar. She twirled her tongue around her engorged clit, dragging the muscle over the bundle of nerves, encouraged by Abby’s moans and the grip she had on the back of her head. 

“Right there,” The blonde gasped, bucking her hips against her face, pressing her hand even more firmly against the base of her skull. “Yeah, right fucking there. Shit.”

Then the real moaning started. What had begun as muffled grunts had quickly developed into breathy cries of pleasure, the only words falling from her lips being drawn out curses or punchy words of praise. 

Y/n prodded her tongue around the opening of her core, poking inside shallowly, hardly able to slip inside with how tightly she was clenching. Chuckling, Y/n drew her middle finger against the opening, “Relax for me, Abby.”

At her words, the muscles of her core almost immediately relaxed, easily accepting the intrusion of her finger with eagerness, walls clamping down as she added her ring finger. She pulled her face away for a moment, pumping her fingers in and out with precision as her fingertips easily found purchase against the spongy flesh that caused her eyes to roll back in her skull. 

Y/n grinned, pressing her lips against the thigh that had rested over her shoulder. She would never be able to recover from this view that she was so rarely able to see; Abby’s head tilted back, eyes hooded and lips parted as she whimpered out soft praises, small breasts heaving with each breath and her nipples pebbled with arousal. There was something about having somebody so big and strong at her disposal that she simply couldn’t get enough of, knowing that in a simple movement, Abby could have her at her disposal before she could even protest, the idea that someone like Abby, who took such pride in her dominance, was willing to give it up just for her. 

Feeling the tell-tale fluttering of her inner walls, Y/n quickened the pace of her fingers and returned her mouth to its rightful place on her clit, sucking and licking so gently in comparison to the fast pace of her fingers. 

Abby came with a shout, hand forcing Y/n’s face impossibly closer to her core as she continued to pump her fingers, fucking her through the orgasm until she felt her walls slacken. She removed her fingers, and with one last kiss to her inner thigh, she pulled away. Abby moved her leg, reaching down and yanking her girlfriend up to slam their lips together, whimpering at the musky taste of her own cum. 

“God, I’m gonna marry you,” Abby murmured against her mouth, drawing soft giggles from both of them.

“Not if I marry you first.”

Abby rolled her eyes as she reached past Y/n, turning the water off and scooping her up in a single movement, “Everything’s gotta be a competition with you, huh?”

Y/n giggled, hooking her ankles at the base of Abby’s spine and wrapping her arms around her neck, “Well, not everything.”

“Yeah? So you’re not gonna try and fight me when I have my way with you?”

Y/n kissed her again, “As long as you don’t make me wait, I’m impatient.”

Abby tossed her on the mattress, completely unconcerned about the fact that she was still dripping wet from the shower. She crossed the room, opening the top drawer of the dresser and fishing around for a moment before she found her target. Y/n watched in awe as Abby skillfully slid the harness up her legs, tightening it just enough that it wouldn’t slip as she turned, revealing the thick blue dildo hanging from her pelvis. 

“Why don’t you just lay there and be a good girl for me, heh?”

When Y/n woke up the next morning, she was stiff, but who wouldn’t be after being bent in every imaginable position for over an hour? 

It was nearly twelve o’clock by the time her eyes finally cracked open, and she was disappointed, but not surprised, to find that she was alone in the bed. She was dressed in only one of Abby’s lacrosse sweatshirts, and tucked snugly into the blankets and a note set neatly on the pillow next to her own.

Went out to the slopes, be back soon. Love you.

Y/n sighed, tossing the note aside as she glanced around the room, noticing that Abby must have tidied up a bit before she left, everything that had been knocked over or thrown across the room in the early hours of the morning having been set neatly back in place. Y/n would have preferred to stay in bed a while longer, but her throbbing headache demanded that she go downstairs and consume as much coffee and aspirin as possible without needed medical attention (luckily for her, she has a sexy pre-med girlfriend on standby). 

After cleaning herself up some and tidying her hair (and cursing herself for not doing her entire hair routine while it was wet) and sliding a pair of sweatpants up her legs, she shuffled down the wooden staircase to face the few stragglers that stayed behind. 

In the kitchen, she found Nora, who seemed like she had just returned, still dressed in her snowpants as she stood at the kitchen counter stirring her coffee. The dark-haired girl turned her head at the sound of Y/n coming down the stairs, a grin appearing on her face at the sight of the sleepy girl. 

“Morning sunshine!” She chuckled, glancing over at the large grandfather clock quickly,  “You just won me ten bucks, gorgeous. Manny said you’d be out for the count until the afternoon.”

Y/n raised her eyebrows, shaking her head as she made her own cup of coffee and swallowed two tablets of aspirin. She took up one of the tall stools opposite Nora, quickly taking a mouthful of her drink. 

“You come back alone?” 

Nora shrugged, “Yeah, once Abby and Manny start making everything a competition I count myself out.” 

Y/n nodded her head, a knowing smile crossing her features. She, too, has fallen victim to the pissing contests between those two. 

“Was it just you three?”

She pursed her lips, slowly shaking her head, “No, uh, Owen joined kinda last minute. Hey, did Abby tell you anything about last night? Manny said they sort of went after it after we left, but he and Leah kinda made a run for it.”

“No, she didn’t,” Y/n frowned, “She seemed a little worked up when she came to bed, but she didn’t really say much.”

A smirk appeared on Nora’s lips, “Yeah, we all heard how worked up she was.”

The blood drained from Y/n’s face, realisation dawning on her face. She thought she had made some kind of effort to keep herself quiet the night before, but to be fair, she had been intoxicated and Abby had made her come three times with just her tongue before even thinking of putting the strap to work.

“Gotta say, I never pictured Abby being a little freaky, I never even would have imagined some of the shit she was saying to you. It had me blushing.”

Y/n buried her face in her hands, wincing at the burning temperature of her skin. Had they all heard it? She’d been so worried about imposing herself on this trip that she hadn’t even considered the consequences of any alone time that she and Abby would have together. She supposed it was bound to happen; The chalet wasn’t that big, and the vents connected every room together, and even knowing that every other person on the vacation had witnessed their very active and intense sex life, she couldn’t find it within herself to regret it at all. The light purple bruises on her neck were a testimony to the way her night ended, and with Owen around, she would proudly wear them. 

The front door swung open, the entire house immediately being filled with the energetic and boisterously loud voice of Manny, obviously still hyped up from his seemingly long session on the slopes. When his gaze fell on Y/n, he hurriedly glanced down at his watch, scowling as he read the time as 11:59, indicating that he had lost the bet. His disappointment was not long-lasting, however, grinning mischievously and wiggling his brows at her as Abby appeared behind her, arms resting on the counter on either side of her body and caging her in, skin cold to the touch through her thin long-sleeve shirt. 

“Jesus, Abigail,” He whistled, “What did you do to her? The poor girl looks like she got mugged.”

“Fuck off,” The blonde groaned, pressing a kiss to her girlfriend’s head and chuckling as Y/n raised her middle finger in his direction. 

“Jealousy doesn’t look good on you, Manuel.” She hummed, leaning back against Abby’s chest. 

Manny seemed surprised at her bold response, turning to the taller girl with a smirk as he continued to tease them. 

“That’s enough Manny, I already gave her hell for interrupting my beauty sleep,” Nora added, taking a long sip from her mug.

“Please,” Abby rested her chin on the top of Y/n’s head, “I’ve lived with both of you before, I can’t even count how many times I had to sleep with earplugs in.”

Nora shrugged, “What goes around, comes around I suppose.”

Abby’s body stiffened when Owen appeared next to Manny, his blue eyes narrowing in on the pair across the counter. It didn’t surprise her in the least that Owen would be bothered by their late night activities; Abby had once disclosed to her early on in their sexual relationship that she had very little experience in anything beyond the basics. With Owen, things were quite vanilla, and there was little said and there was almost no experimentation, so it would make sense that he felt a bit dejected at the idea that the woman he was still so obviously in love with was now in a much healthier and more adventurous relationship with someone else. 

Abby squeezed Y/n’s shoulders, leaning down to whisper in her ear, “I think I’m gonna go up to the room for a bit, maybe watch a movie and take a nap, if you wanna join me.”

Y/n nodded immediately, excited at the idea of going back to bed, hopping off of the stool and letting Abby lead her upstairs by the hand. 

She curled up in the bed, constructing a nest of pillows and blankets on top of the comforter and tucking herself in under a lighter fleece blanket. Abby appeared out of the bathroom, now dressed in a pair of sweats and a tight-fitting t-shirt, her hair hanging loosely around her shoulders. She chuckled when she spotted the structure that had been erected on top of the bed. 

“What movie did you pick?” She asked, carefully climbing in next to her girlfriend and snuggling up against her.”

Y/n glanced up at her, “The Holiday. Thought it was fitting.”

A few minutes into the film, Y/n could hardly even hold her eyes open, rolling over to lay on her belly and nuzzle her face into the crook of Abby’s neck. She glanced up at her girlfriend, admiring the way that the flickering colours from the screen were being projected on her face, light catching on her features and causing her rosy cheeks to glow. Abby turned her head, staring down at her with a fond smile. 

“What?” She asked, fingers gracing Y/n’s cheek softly. 

“Just looking,” She mumbled, “You’re so pretty.”

Abby scoffed, “Says you.”

“Says me,” Y/n agreed, “If anyone else says that, I’ll kill them. Except for your grandmother.”

Abby laughed, “Yes, I would prefer if you didn’t kill Nana, thank you.”

Y/n pressed her lips to the underside of her jaw, “Is everything good between you and Owen?”

“You want everything to be good between us?” Abby raised an eyebrow.

She shrugged, “You know how I feel about Owen, but he’s your friend, and I don’t wanna be the cause of some drama between you if I can help it. Nora said you guys had a fight last night.”

Abby sighed, her arms tightening around her girlfriend’s figure, “I don’t like the way he talks about you. The thing is, when I broke up with him, I was honest with him and he seemed to be okay with it. But since you and I started dating, he seems to be bothered by it. Last night, he was drunk, and he said some pretty nasty stuff about us, mostly about me, honestly.”

“So what, he’s mad that you’ve moved on with someone else, or he’s mad that you’ve moved on with a girl?”

“Not sure,” Abby shook her head, “I don’t–I just wanna move past it. I don’t care what he thinks, and neither should you. If it comes down to you and him, I'm picking you every time.”

Y/n leaned up, nudging Abby’s curved nose with her own before pressing a sweet kiss to her lips, “I love you.”

Abby smiled, kissing her again, “I love you too.”

This time, when Y/n woke up, she was still curled tightly against Abby’s chest. She was thankful, smiling softly as she nuzzled closer to her warmth and simply just laid there contentedly until a loud banging sounded from their bedroom door. 

“Wake up, you lazy perras,” Manny shouted through the wooden door, “It’s time to party!”

Y/n had quickly come to realise over the few days at the chalet that Abby’s friends took New Year’s Eve very seriously. Her eyes had grown three sizes at the sight of the mountain of booze that they had all collected to share amongst the group on the one night. Each of them had expressed their excitement for the holiday, even Mel, who had hardly interacted with her the whole time they’d been there. 

It was torture to pull themselves out of the little nest they’d made, but they knew that Manny would be back in a matter of minutes if they weren’t out of bed soon, and he would be much less friendly the second time. Taking a few moments to wake themselves up, both girls finally crawled out of bed and began to get themselves ready for the evening, knowing that Leah, Nora, and Mel would be wanting to take and post pictures from the little party on any social media platform that they could get their hands on.

They were both offered drinks immediately upon entering the kitchen, discovering a large bowl of punch sitting in the middle of the large island, apparently having been a concoction made by Jordan and Manny, which became quite obvious once Y/n took a small drink and discovered that it was probably closer in form to a toxic chemical than any kind of enjoyable beverage, but for the sake of the holiday, she continued to take small sips of the drink, quickly followed up by a much more enjoyable Diet Coke.

They spent the evening playing drinking games, watching movies, and exposing each other’s most embarrassing moments until late in the evening, though Y/n decided to cap herself at the one drink, considering the night she’d had the night before, and instead accepted the edible offered to her by Nora, who had also been put off of liquor by the hangover she’d had that morning. 

Y/n could admit that the small get-together felt much more intimate and enjoyable to her than attending a larger party, as she likely would have done if Abby had not invited her. Even those who did not overly like Y/n seemed glad to have her there, except for Owen, of course. 

Even Mel had entertained some conversations with her and had invited her to jump into some pictures with her and the other girls, the alcohol making her much friendlier than usual. Y/n’s feelings towards Mel were never set in stone. From time to time, she was very nice to her, but the majority of the time, she seemed completely uninterested in her being there. Of course, Y/n could understand it, to a degree; If Abby acted the same way that Owen did when she was around, Y/n would feel the same way, and he apparently hadn’t started acting that way until Y/n came around. 

Y/n couldn’t help but keep a watchful eye on the two figures out on the deck, doing her best to not make it obvious, feeling the need to protect her girlfriend from any more hurt, especially after hearing what sort of things that Owen had said to her the night before. They’d only been out there for about ten minutes after Owen had asked her to talk in private, offering an overly sympathetic look to both Abby and her girlfriend, who’d been reluctant to let her go on her own, especially since he had been drinking quite heavily all evening.

In truth, Owen had immediately apologised for what he’d said the night before, shocking the blonde with his words. Normally, Owen was a proud man, never apologising to anyone unless he knows that it might offer him something in return. 

“Really,” He had cleared his throat, obviously hesitant and uncomfortable, “I’m really sorry. I wouldn’t intentionally do anything to hurt you, it’s just…You don’t know how hard it’s been.”

“Hard?” Abby repeated, “What’s been so hard for you, Owen?”

He scowled, “Seeing you happy, with someone else–with her.” 

She scoffed, “So it is about her. Tell me, if I was dating another man, would you have this issue?”

“Yes!” He looked appalled, “Seriously–how are you trying to turn this into that sorta thing. You know I’m not like that.”

“Do I?” She pressed, “How many times have I heard you use the f slur in passing, or couldn’t stop staring at two girls holding hands in public? You may not realise it all the time, but you are like that, and I can’t just sit back and let you treat someone I love like that.”

He paused, “You love her?”

She nodded.

“I just–I don’t get it. How can you be…you were never like that with me. We were happy, I thought you loved me.”

Abby stared at him incredulously, “I did. Part of me always will, and you know that, but I’m not sure I was ever in love with you.”

That seemed to set him off, “So I was just…what to you? A plaything? An experiment?”

“Owen,” she growled, “You’re the one who started dating someone else only a week after we broke up, and not just anyone, but Mel. The one person who you always told me not to worry about, that you two were just good friends. Now look at you two, you act like an old married couple.”

“I don’t love Mel.” He stated, like it was a blatantly obvious statement. “I love you.”

Abby laughed, pushing herself away from the railing harshly, “You’re drunk, Owen.”

He grabbed her arm, pulling her back into him before she could stomp away, forcing his lips onto hers in a fury of passion. His hand gripped the back of her head, holding her in place as she fought against him. Finally, she sank her teeth into his bottom lip, not relenting until she could taste the iron of his blood and he was forcing her away.

“Fuck!” He swore, reaching up to nurse his bleeding lip, though he was given very little time to recover as Y/n practically flew past Abby and swung her fist into his jaw. He stumbled backwards from the force, flood now running down his chin and neck, “You stupid bitch.”

Abby stepped between the two as he lunged at the shorter of the two girls, shoving him down onto the deck as the others came rushing out after Y/n. She scowled at him, crouching ever so slightly to meet his gaze, “Don’t you ever put your hands on her, or me, ever again.”

She turned to face her girlfriend, hands cradling her now swollen fist and running her thumb over the cracked and bleeding skin over the knuckles, “You okay?”

Y/n lifted her good hand up to swipe at the lip on Abby’s lower lip, tears leaking down her cheeks, “Are you?”

She nodded, pressing her bloody lips to Y/n’s forehead briefly, taking one final look at the man on the floor, who seemed to be in shock and finally realising what he had done, glancing between the two women standing over him, to his friends who all seemed nothing short of disgusted with him, and finally, his girlfriend, who could barely stand to offer him anything more than a fleeting glance. Abby shook her head. She never wanted this, she would have been more than content to keep Owen in her life as a friend, but there was very little that could recover him in her eyes, and she knew that he would never be able to accept her or the woman she loved. She hoped that, at some point in the future, he might come to his senses, but until then, she decided that he would no longer be regarded as one of her best friends, as he previously had been. 

She led her girlfriend back inside, grabbing an ice pack from the freezer before guiding her up the stairs and to their bedroom. Abby pushed her to sit on the edge of the mattress, lowering herself to kneel in front of her. She gingerly pressed the ice to her knuckles, shushing her when she whimpered at the sudden cold.

“I’m sorry,” Y/n whispered, “None of this would’ve happened if I didn’t come on this trip.”

“Stop apologising. It’s no one’s fault but his, for being a homophobic prick, and my own, for putting up with it for so long.”

It was quiet for a moment before a giggle escaped from Y/n’s lips, “I told you I would kick someone’s ass for you.”

“That’s really all you got out of this?” Abby laughed, her radiant smile breaking through her otherwise stony expression.

“That,” Y/n leaned down, “And that I love you.”

“I thought you already knew that.”

Y/n rolled her eyes, “I did, but this was my proof that I wasn’t joking about it.”

She leaned down, hands cupping Abby’s defined jaw in her hands, holding her just as softly as one might hold a newborn as she pressed a kiss to her lips. When she pulled back, she glanced at the alarm clock on the dresser, smirking as she pressed another kiss to her lips and mumbled against her.

“Happy New Year, baby.”

#reader insert #x reader #imagines #lesbian #abby anderson #abby anderson imagine #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby tlou #college!abby anderson

[lwde-encrusted-sideblog]

Nora: the best part about Dating two faunus is the four dicks.

Yang: That's cap. No way both of them got that.

Snake!faunus Ren: ... *Sips tea*

Shark!faunus Jaune: *Blushes, looks away*

Yang: ... Pyrrha. Pyrrha tell me she's lying.

Pyrrha: ... It is not her favorite part of the situation.

Yang: Everytime I talk with the four of you I learn something new.

Yang: And sometimes I'm reminded Ignorance is Bliss.

#rwby #jaune arc #rwby shitpost #yang xiao long #pyrrha nikos #nora valkyrie #lie ren #shark!faunus jaune #snake!faunus ren #jnpr berries #team jnpr

[morehotch]

each time you fall in love

how your boyfriend turned into your husband and how the two of you started and grew a family

spencer reid x reader, parent au, dad!spencer x mom!reader, time jumps (parts w/ pregnant reader), 2.5k

Your thing with Spencer is really good, sometimes it just feels too good and too right. Everything feels like it’s fallen so effortlessly and perfectly in place. You definitely don’t want to jinx anything, but after eight months of officially dating- and two years of mutual pinning through work, Spencer has been absolutely everything you wanted and needed in a guy.

It’s easy to talk to him, to laugh; to tell him anything. Spencer wants to get to know you, to understand and help you. When you talk, he listens with his eyes never leaving yours and a soft smile always dancing on his lips. And during moments like these, when you're lying in bed, limbs tangled together, his large palm over your waist, and when you pet his bed head and he smiles sleepily- you never, ever want Spencer to leave.

Spencer watches you now with a dazed, blissed look of total comfort. One you love so much on him, one he deserves so much. He smells like your clean sheets and his usual wood and sea salt cologne as his warm fingers trace different patterns against your shoulder.

You both have been slowly convincing each other to get up eventually and tackle your Sunday plans of grocery shopping and putting together Spencer's new book shelf he ordered after he outgrew his other one. But it’s been over an hour of falling back asleep and slowly blinking awake and neither of you has made much progress yet.

“Do you ever think about having kids?” Spencer asks suddenly, making you twist in his arms to look at his sweet face and dazed eyes.

“Yeah,” you whisper, watching how intensely curious he looks. “Sometimes."

You subconsciously match his small smile, thoughts of an incredibly wholesome future together making your heart unfairly twist in excitement and want. “I think about it all the time with you,” you continue and Spencer grins instantly. You've seen how delicately and kindly Spencer interacts with children, how naturally warm and gentle he is. You wouldn't admit it, but even before you were dating, you had a few fleeting thoughts about Spencer as a father.

“Really?” He asks and you smile, hand running down his bicep, “Of course.”

Spencer is quiet for a while before he speaks again. "And, you think- you think I'd be a good dad, right?”

Your eyes soften as you roll over to kiss him. “Absolutely.” 

Spencer just looks at you like you said something entirely captivating and consuming.

“What?” You smile, pressing your lips against his jaw gently, "I'm just telling you the truth."

“I just want it so badly, I don’t know.” Spencer bends his arms to rest them behind his head. He watches you, totally suddenly peaceful and content. “I want so much with you.”

-

2 years later

You wake up to the muffled sound of Spencer's voice, momentarily wondering if he’s on the phone but you smile to yourself when you listen closely and hear his softer and higher tone- his baby voice. You excitedly make your way to your kitchen, leaning against the doorframe and appreciating the scene in front of you. Spencer is carefully holding your daughter, Nora, with both arms, walking around the kitchen, while simultaneously trying to make eggs.

He has messy bed hair- similar to yours, a now permanent fashion statement in the Reid household, and stubble dotted along his jaw. You listen to his soft whispers and your heart swells as your baby’s small fingers cling onto his white undershirt and her chubby hand grasps at his arm, softly patting over his chest.

Spencer has his back to you so you stay unnoticed, enjoying the serene beauty of your husband and daughter together. Nora is already almost eight months old and time felt like it was flying by- even if the sleepless nights felt incredibly long. Now, even if time alone and a longer than five-minute shower felt like a luxury, you couldn’t and don’t want to remember a time without Nora.

You absolutely love watching Spencer with her, you love watching the way he so gracefully and perfectly assumed the role of being a father, especially after the late night conversations you had when you were pregnant when Spencer tearfully admitted his fears of his ability to be a good father when he lacked one as a child. But between Spencer's reading of basically every pregnancy book on the market and the way Nora kicked immediately at the sound of Spencer's voice, it was quickly obvious he had nothing to worry about.

You love how attentive he is and how much he dotes on her and takes care of you at the same time. How he diligently learned how to cook- and make fresh, healthy baby food, how he reads a ridiculous amount of baby books to Nora daily, and how he insisted on making sure you get at least minimum of a few hours of sleep a night.

You watch him bounce Nora gently, leaning against the doorframe and you smile silently until your daughter spots you from behind his shoulder. She reaches out and giggles with a tiny grin and Spencer turns around, mirroring her smile, which looks enduringly similar to his own.

“Need help?” You ask as Spencer laughs. “There’s probably a more effective way to make breakfast but I didn't want to put her down.”

Nora stretches her arms out towards you and you reach over to gently grab her from his hold. "Coffee?” He asks, knowing your answer.

“Yes please,” you smile down at Nora, her soft hairs and long lashes. She leans her head against your chest, already comfortable in your arms. You watch Spencer stand on his tiptoes to grab a coffee mug and you press a kiss to the crown of Nora's head.

What a nice morning.

-

“Come take a picture!” Spencer says and your daughter giggles and toddles over to you, hurrying as fast as her tiny legs can carry her, bound in a large winter coat, mittens, and ear muffs. A tiny chubby arm extends out to you- a wordless ask for stability and help. You smile as she struggles to wrap her small arms around your shoulders, tiny hands grasping your jacket. Her full pink cheek smushes against yours as Spencer positions the picture, grinning behind the camera, “Your first snow this year, baby!”

Spencer had retired from the BAU and started teaching full time only a year and half after Nora was born, determined to be there for his daughter and that meant so many more family moments like these. Mornings like these when you wake up beside your husband and you're both there to see one of Nora's firsts.

“Snow!” She says loudly, head straining up towards the sky with fascination. She had just started talking and loved impressing everyone with her linguistic skills, taking her limited vocabulary very seriously as she already loved to talk and communicate with the two of you. Spencer loved entertaining her- and himself, by sitting her in his lap and reading her favorite books, the ones she had memorized, together.

“Smile!” He says excitedly, grinning behind the large camera.

Nora listens, with grin that has always looked exactly like her father’s. Your arm finds its way to the small of her back, holding her securely as Spencer takes the picture. 

“Perfect,” he mutters, more to himself, watching his family in front of him.

-

“What’s the surprise?” Nora cries, toying with the hem of her shirt. Her anxious gaze darts back and forth between you and Spencer, upset that you both know something she doesn’t.

At three years old, Nora hates feeling like she’s being excluded from something. The hardest part of her routine is now attempting to convince her that it's bedtime and neither of you would dare have fun without her while she's sleeping.

Spencer hands her a small transparent piece of film and your daughter plays with it gently, turning it around in her palm. “What does this mean?” She questions, not able to stay still and scooting towards you with wide, curious eyes. 

Spencer holds her close to his body, wrapping an arm around her as she gives him her full attention. “It means in a couple of months you’re going to be an older sister.” Nora blinks with her mouth open, she has friends in preschool who were younger siblings or already had younger brothers or sisters. Spencer's cousin recently had twins and Nora was completely fascinated by how tiny they were and that there were two babies.

You knew Spencer always wanted Nora to have at least one other sibling and the timing had finally felt right for the first time since she was born a few years ago.

“Really?” Her voice grows louder in pure excitement, looking at you in awe before her eyebrows furrow, confused. “Why not right now?” She pouts, immediately turning to her father for an explanation.

Spencer laughs loudly with an endeared smile that is always reserved solely for Nora. “That’s not how it works, angel." He pulls her into his lap, noting that patience is still hard a hard virtue for a three-year-old.

-

You’re tucking Nora into bed a few nights later when she brings up the baby again.

“There’s a baby in there?” Nora asks, pointing to your stomach where a small but noticeable bump began to show. After Spencer's scientific but three- year old friendly explanation, Nora has been fascinated with her younger sibling, always asking you and Spencer about babies. It had even made Spencer briefly tear up one night, hit with the realization Nora wasn't a baby anymore. Even though you quickly reminded him she still was only three.

“Yes, sweetheart,” you laugh as she smiles widely. “Wow,” her big eyes fill with excitement and curiosity. She reaches out and lays a small, warm hand on your stomach, “Hi baby.”

You smile at your daughter, already knowing what a great sister she'll be. She grips the comforter tightly as she moves to your side to cuddle you closer. “Love you,” she mumbles, eyes tightly shut, trying to lull herself into sleep. 

“I love you too,” you say quietly and you eventually think she’s successfully asleep, tucked tightly next to you until she whispers cutely, “I love you baby.” You feel a small tap on your stomach and she snuggles closer, satisfied and closes her eyes for a peaceful sleep. 

-

“Look!” Your daughter calls as she thrusts a picture towards Spencer, a pink and purple fingerprinted flower. He takes her in his arms, “For me?” Spencer grins, looking at her art. Spencer loves her artwork and his office at the university is filled with her masterpieces.

Nora's arms find his shoulders. “No,” she giggles, “for Mommy!” She finishes, still laughing at Spencer's reaction.                      

Spencer pretends to look hurt, pouting, “Well, can I have one too?” he asks. Nora thinks about it for a few moments, face twisting in thought, “Okay!” The little girl decides and Spencer's smile grows instantly, “Thank you, baby.”

She frowns, chiding her father with a grin, “I’m not baby.” 

“You’re not?” Spencer asks surprised and she nods approvingly. “Yes, the baby is in mommy right now,” she explains, looking at him to confirm he understands.

“Ahhh,” Spencer nods knowingly, smiling tugging on his lips, “I see. You’re right. You're so smart, my big girl.” Nora hides her smile, leaning against Spencer's shoulder and tucking her face into his chest.

“You’re still my baby though, right?“ He whisper as Nora buries her face further into his shirt, giggling out a sweet, “Yes."

-

Nemo has been the chosen movie for your weekly movie night- for the fourth time in a row, because Spencer can never find it in him to say no to Nora and she is somehow still incredibly invested in Nemo's storyline. But now, as the end credits of Nemo play, Nora sits in Spencer's lap, letting him braid her hair. You’re laying next to them, a blanket draped over you as Spencer watches you sleep peacefully, getting your well deserved and needed rest.

Nora sighs against Spencer's chest as he pats her shoulder. "Let’s go to bed, angel.”

She lets her father hoist her up and carry her into her room, the one right down the hall from yours, with pink walls and a newly upgraded twin bed.

“Daddy,” she whispers suddenly, clutching her favorite teddy bear like she's nervous. “Will you still love me even if I’m not a baby anymore?”

Spencer blinks and brushes back stray hairs from her face with a soft smile, trying to ignore the way his heart breaks inside his chest. “Of course honey, I could never not love you, never ever.”

“Ok, daddy,” Nora smiles to herself, seemingly satisfied.

“Will you still love me?” Spencer asks and she giggles loudly.

“Yes!”

“I had to make sure!” He defends and Nora squeals, wrapping her arms around his torso and squeezing tight.

“Nora," Spencer finishes seriously, "Mommy and I will love you forever.”

-

“The baby is going to be small,” Spencer explains, walking Nora through the hospital halls as she swings their interlocked hands back and forth excitedly.

“Okay,” Nora bounces. “Isn’t it cool, daddy, that baby and I have the same birthday month?”

“Wow,” he looks down at Nora and her bright, excited eyes, “it really is.”

“But we have our own days,” she continues, “I think it was meant to be.” She decides, stopping when Spencer does, right in front of your hospital room.

“I think so too,” he smiles, squeezing her hand gently and opening the door carefully.

“Wow,” Nora gasps, consciously trying not to run up to the hospital bed where you hold a tiny bundle.

“Hi, sweetheart,” you smile, “Do you want to meet your sister?”

She nods with wide eyes, already on her tippy toes to try and peer over the tall bed. Spencer instead sits down in the chair next to you and lifts her into his lap. “Here,” he murmurs as you carefully pass over your newborn.

“Hi,” Nora stares at the small bundle, “Daddy,” she gasps, looking up at Spencer in awe. She touches the baby tentatively as her father's arm wraps around her waist. Nora is already hyper-fixated on her sibling, on her sister.

“What’s baby’s name?” She whispers like she’s scared of disturbing her.

“Amelia,” Spencer says quietly, meeting your eyes with a small, content smile.

“Hi Amelia,” Nora smiles, helping Spencer support the baby's head gently, turning to look at you. “Do you think she already knows how much I love her?”

You nod, “I know she does.” Nora nods with a satisfied smile, like that reassures her and you watch her hold her sister, sharing a silent but knowing look with Spencer; knowing now that your family feels so, so complete.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid blurb #dad spencer reid #girl dad spencer supremacy

[gilverrwrites]

“If you will have me, I am yours.” 

Pairing: Human!Castiel/Fem!Reader (Season 9)

Reader has AFAB body parts & feminine pronouns' are used.

Plot: The reader is a retired hunter, who develops feeling for Cas after he moves in with her. After living in domestic bliss for a while, its only a matter of time feelings are confessed, and sex is had.

Please remember: to keep going, and keep growing.

Content: Rough/Kissing, blowjob, rough blowjob/face-fucking, vaginal fingering, p in v sex, dirty talk (Cas doesnt really have a filter) rough sex, swearing, accidental cuddling, intentional cuddling.

Rating: M/18+

Words: 3,377

Notice: The follow up: Takeout Tuesday is now available here.

Excerpt: You vaguely recall falling asleep around 40 minutes into a Capra film, but when and how you’d nestled yourself against your flatmate was a mystery. Despite your instinct to jerk away, you remain still when you feel his fingers brushing against your bare shoulder. Between the warmth of his skin on yours, and the soothing beat of his heart, you are soon lulled close to sleep once again. Until the sound of Cas’ low voice in your ear rouses you. “Are you awake?”  When you nod, he continues, “Is this okay?” You nod again, and quietly add, “This is wonderful.”

Having Castiel around was pleasant, if a little surreal. You’d always considered him a friend, but it wasn’t the same. Previously you’d only really been around each other on the hunt. Or if Cas was involved, more like stopping an apocalypse. Your relationship had been entirely based on proximity, and necessity. There was never really time to bond beyond that. Until now. 

You’d decided to attempt retirement a while ago. You’d found a job and started subletting a decent apartment from a friend of a friend, on the preface that they could still crash on the couch when travelling across country. The hunting trade was a small world after all. 

In fact, your new landlord was exactly who you’d expected to see when someone came knocking on your door in the middle of the night. Not a tired, bloodied, and bruised Angel. Confused, you’d let him in, patched his wounds, cleaned him up, and let him sleep it off in your bed. After almost 48 hours of continuous sleep, he’d explained everything to you, thanked you for your hospitality, and told you he’d be out of your hair soon. You’d assertively informed him that the only place he would be going is from your bed, to your couch. 

From there you easily fell into a routine together, effortlessly bonded over shared experiences, old and new. It was nice, seeing his toothbrush next to yours, bringing home his favourite takeout every Tuesday. When he worked the early shift, he’d always make you a coffee before he left, on the late shifts he’d bring home a bottle of your favourite. He did the dishes, and you did the laundry. You were a secure little domestic team.

The surrealness came when you realised just how much you enjoyed it. You welled up with pride whenever he complimented something you’d cooked him from scratch. Starting your morning in his presence calmed any nerves, and on stressful days, coming home to dinner and a film with Cas was your respite. 

You were confused by the bitterness you felt when he called you one night to say he would be home late, citing a date with his boss, Nora. You were truly sad, but relieved when he informed you he had misread the invitation. That he was actually there to babysit. That’s when it hit you. Somewhere along the way, in between all the household chores, and the late-night Hulu binging, you’d fallen for him. 

You’d always thought he was hot, ever since he’d introduced himself as ‘Castiel, an Angel of the Lord’ all those years ago. However, you no longer needed to accidentally catch him leaving the shower, or bending under a table to feel flushed. Ever since the figurative penny dropped, all it took was a smile, or the brush of your chests in a tight hall to make you blush. 

Thoughts of Castiel and your myriad of complex feelings now plagued you, particularly as you lay in bed at night, knowing he was only feet away from you, just on the other side of your paper-thin walls. Paper-thin walls that did nothing to protect you from the sudden and deafeningly loud sound of the TV at 2AM. 

Not bothering to throw on bottoms, you stumble to your bedroom door in just a camisole and panties. The sight of Cas sitting on the couch, clad in nothing but boxers, desperately fiddling with the remote in an attempt to turn down the volume greeted you upon entry to the living room. 

Upon noticing you, Cas drops the remote and hastily reaches for his discarded comforter to cover himself with. In turn you rotated your entire body, averting your gaze in favour of the wall, primarily to respect his privacy, secondarily to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks. 

“I’m so sorry!” You blurt.

“It’s okay.” He responds quietly. “I’m sorry for the noise. I couldn’t sleep, I didn’t mean to wake you.” 

“It’s okay.” You repeat back to him. “I was awake, I couldn’t sleep either. You just made me jump.” 

“You can look now.” He informs you. Hoping the dim light from the TV doesn’t reveal too much of the colour in your face, you spin back. He was now covered from the waist down, but you couldn’t help noticing his bare chest, particularly the definition between his pecs, and the sharpness of his collarbones.

“I guess I’ll leave you to it.” You say, trying to re-direct your eyes to any other part of the room. 

“Unless…” He gestures to the television. “Would you care to join me?” 

“Sure.” You answer hesitantly. You weren’t sleeping anyway, what was the worst that could happen?

Castiel smiles amiably at you before returning his attention to the remote. You linger in your spot as he begins flicking through the different apps. When he makes no effort to locate and put on trousers you slowly settle down next to him, careful to leave enough distance to prevent any accidental skin-on-skin contact. 

“So, what are we watching?” 

 ————-

You vaguely recall falling asleep around 40 minutes into a Capra film, but when and how you’d nestled yourself against your flatmate was a mystery. Despite your instinct to jerk away, you remain still when you feel his fingers brushing against your bare shoulder. Between the warmth of his skin on yours, and the soothing beat of his heart, you are soon lulled close to sleep once again. Until the sound of Cas’ low voice in your ear rouses you. “Are you awake?” 

When you nod, he continues, “Is this okay?”

You nod again, and quietly add, “This is wonderful.”

You can’t see his expression from your current position, but he exhales, and you think he sounds relieved. 

It could be the scarcity of sleep, a ‘mind after midnight’ mirage, but this is when it occurred to you that maybe, just maybe, he could be interested in you too. Why else would be lying beneath you, half-naked and seemingly completely at ease? Doubtful that you’d ever have this courage again you tilt your head up to look at him and ask; “Do you ever think about us?”

“I do.” He responds, he looks perplexed, which admittedly was his default expression.

“Do you ever think about us, as more than this?” When he doesn’t immediately answer, you resume. “You know, like romantically? Or even intimately?” 

“I frequently think of you amorously.” He speaks tentatively, each word spoken very deliberately. “When Metatron took my grace from me, I never imagined that this was how my life would go. Of course, I never thought that my grace would be taken, or that I would live among humans as one of them in the first place.”

He seems to take a moment to compile his thoughts, sucking his bottom lip in concentration. You remain silent. Hoping he can’t feel the rapid thrum of your heart.

“I thought at first that I was broken. The fall, losing my wings was bad enough, but now, without my angelic abilities, I can’t do anything. Well, nothing of merit, at least where the needs of humankind are concerned.”

“That’s not true.” You interject, you move to sit up, to be at eye level with him, but due to your already precarious position, the only way to do so is by shifting a leg over his lap, thus straddling him.

“I know that now.” He says as he grips your wrists and brings them to his shoulders, offering you extra support. “Without meaning to overstep, or make you uncomfortable, but living with- existing beside you has been a far more fulfilling experience than most of the things I have accomplished in the many billions of years I have existed.

I have very little practice in the ways of human sexuality, and even less so with courtship. However, I would be honoured, and extremely happy if you would allow me to explore such things, with you.”

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“If you will have me, I am yours.” 

There's a tense moment of silence between you both in which neither of you dare to break eye contact before you surge to him. You instigate the kiss, but Cas is fast to take control, his arms pull your body to him, driving your lips to press hard against his. When he rocks his hips up, kneading his semi-hard cock against your clothed core, you gasp. Cas immediately slips his tongue between your lips. You can’t hold back the groan that escapes you. His mouth tastes like coffee and artificial grape. You savour the feel and aroma of his lips before pulling back momentarily. 

“Only if I can be yours too.” You finally respond before he’s on you again. You freely open up for him, allowing him to explore your mouth once more. His tongue eagerly swirls against yours, exploring every crevice. His hands drop to clutch your waist, holding you in place as he ruts against you from below. 

It was you who broke the kiss again, locking your eyes with him as you climb off his lap. 

“Let me take care of you.” You chime as you drop to your knees on the floor below him. Cas quickly follows, sitting up straight, and planting his legs on either side of you. The comforter banished to the other end of the sofa.  

“You… You look so beautiful like that. On your knees.” He smiles down at you and reaches out to cup your face, strong fingers gently brush along your jaw before his thumb extends up to your lips. You press a kiss to its pad before parting your lips and taking him in. His skin tastes clean, with a hint of salt, and something florally. 

“Let me suck your cock.” You state, voice muffled by the pressure on your tongue.

His cheeks are tinted pink. You’re unsure if it's from arousal or nerves but he stands to pull off his boxers and settles back down. You can’t help but lick your lips when his cock is revealed, it's long and already hard. 

You don’t waste any time, immediately situating your tongue on the underside of his shaft and running it from tip to hilt. You stop momentarily to plant a kiss on his balls, before running back up his length. When you look back up Cas is watching you intensely, brow furrowed, lids heavy, lips between his teeth. You smile before wrapping your mouth around his cock. Pausing only slightly when you feel Cas cup the back of your head. 

You inch yourself down his length slowly, getting a feel for him, his thickness, and how much you can take at once. When you feel his tip hit the back of your throat, you pull back, before bobbing back down. The sound of Castiel’s’ hitched breathing drives you until you’re relaxed enough to take him completely. His thickness stretches your throat, making your eyes water, his pubic hair tickles your nose, and the look of bliss on his face makes your pussy drip. 

After a few seconds, you come back up for air, but the relief in your lungs only lasts a second before you feel Cas’ fists tighten against your scalp. 

“You look even better with my cock in your mouth.” He grunts as he pushes you back down. “You feel so good.”

Unable to respond, you hum your affirmation, drool escaping the corners of your mouth. Cas moans his approval, eyes and head lolling back for a moment before he plants his other hand firmly on the back of your head, holding you in place as he shifts to the edge of the couch and begins bucking his hips into your mouth. 

You plant your hands around his calves to steady yourself, and keep them out of the way as he continues to use your mouth. His thrusts grow heavier, his moans raspier, as you fight your need for air. Your cunt growing hotter, wetter every second, while your throat closes, and your head grows dizzy from the lack of air.

When he finally lets you go, your lungs are burning. You lean back, unable to control the wild rise and fall of your chest as you pant for air. Your lips feel sore, swollen, but your pussy aches. 

“I’m sorry.” Cas reaches over to cradle your face, tentatively brushing the tears from your eyes. “Was that too much?” 

“No! No not at all.” You whisper between breaths. You reach out for his hand, and he takes it. His head tilts to one side as he looks down at you sceptically. You smile back as you guide him between your legs. You brush his fingers against your panties, encouraging him to feel the wetness soaking through the fabric.

“I did that? I made you this wet?” He asks. When you nod his mouth cracks into a smile.

Within seconds he drops to his knees before you, pulling you in for another hot, open-mouthed kiss. Your tongues meet in another fierce, uncontrolled kiss. You cry out into his mouth when you feel his fingers press firmly against your clit, rubbing you through the thin fabric of your underwear.

Without warning Cas clutches onto your panties and pulls until the elastic snaps. He releases the offending article and quickly returns to your wetness. He strokes your clit repeatedly, swallowing your moans, holding you to his chest to prevent you from involuntarily withering away.

You break your lips away from his just long enough to plead; “Fuck me Cas, please fuck me with your fingers.”

He doesn’t hesitate to do as asked, immediately delving two fingers into your pussy. Once situated inside, he massages them against your walls, feeling you out and making you sputter. You grip his shoulders for support, digging your nails into his skin as he starts to thrust in and out of you.

“Like this?” He questions, you’re not sure if he’s being coy, if he’s teasing. Or if he truly is curious. Either way, you’re too gone to really answer. You open your mouth but all that comes out are a series of strangled whimpers. The feel of his thumb returning to your clit, gently brushing just the right spot, pushes you to breaking point. 

“I’m- I – ahhh.” You cry, trying to warn him. When you jerk your head back there is resistance. Cas releases his hold on your back, to grips your head forward. You peek up at him through half-lidded eyes, Cas stares, his blue eyes bare down on you, unblinking. If you weren’t already cumming, that would have been enough. 

You lean into Castiel’s body as you come back down, limp, and incoherent. A low hum escapes you as Cas languidly removes his fingers from inside you and brings them to his lips. You watch lazily as he gives them a tentative sniff before placing them in his mouth. His face seems to melt, and he closes his eyes, visibly savouring the taste. 

When he’s done, he grins at you and ponders aloud; “I’m not sure which is better.”

Still unable to string two words together you watch him, waiting for him to continue.

“The way you look when you reach orgasm, or the way you taste.” 

Instantly your cheeks begin to burn, and heat pools between your legs again. Without a second thought you reach down, grabbing your cami by the hem and lifting it over your head, your entire body now exposed to Castiel. 

He’s on you again in an instant. His mouth latches to one of your nipples, rapidly but lightly his tongue darts over the sensitive nip. Both hands come up to cup each breast. His fingers pinch and roll at your other exposed nipple. When you feel his teeth grazing the sensitive skin you flinch, fisting your hands into his hair. 

“Cas, please!” You gasp.

“Please what?” He responds, speech distorted by his refusal to remove his mouth from your body. 

“Please take me to bed.” You whine, needlessly pulling at his hair to garner his attention. “Please Castiel, take me to bed-”

You’re interrupted by the jolt of your body being lifted. Cas continues his oral assault, kissing, sucking, nipping at your neck as he carries you back to your bed. He sits himself on the edge of your bed and positions you to straddle him once again. You pull his attention back from your neck, sinking your lips onto his as you guide him down, until he’s lying face up.

You lean back and he sucks in a breath as you wrap your hand around the base of his cock. You line him up at your entrance and he begins gradually rocking into you. You steadily sink down, the feel of his cock stretching you out making you shudder. Cas’s head rolls back, he bites his lip and grips your hips, barely fighting not to slam you down onto him.

When his cock is fully inside, you pull back up until only the tip remains inside before you drop back onto him.

With a loud moan, Cas engulfs your body with his own and flips you over. He holds you beneath him with the weight of his own body as he gives a few shallow, testing thrusts. Satisfied he begins building pace and force, until the sound of skin slapping against skin can be heard between ragged breaths and moans. You raise your lower body, trying to match his rhythm but his hands lock onto your hips and push them down, pinning you to the bed.

His lips are tight between his teeth, his brow furrowed, and his skin glows with a sheen of sweat. You can’t help but paw at his shoulders, bringing him down so you can plant kisses on his face and neck.

“Cas, fuck. Castiel that feels so good.” You praise.

In response, he catches your lips in a desperate kiss, all tongues and teeth and jumbled sounds that may once have been words. Your toes begin to curl, as your climax grows near. You lock your fingers in Castiel's hair, pulling his face away as you arch your back. Your eyes close tight as you chant his name.

“I love it when you moan my name.” He murmurs in your ear. He releases your hips, and grips your face, forcing it back up. Your eyes peek open as growls his next words. “Look at me, and don’t stop saying my name.”

At that, the tension in your cunt snaps. Your body jerks and your walls clench around him as you hit your climax. Castiel rides you through it, his strides slowing, but he continues fucking into you at a steady pace until he’s seemingly overcome by his own orgasm. His movements becoming laboured and erratic, he pants your name through gritted teeth as he spills his cum inside you.

You remain wrapped up in your position as you come down from your highs, the warmth of his breath tickles your neck, and your chests collide as you fight to catch your breath. Your mind races, trying to find the right thing to say next, not wanting to spoil your post-orgasm bliss. Eventually, you nudge his shoulder, and he moved away, allowing you to sit up. His cum seeps out of you as you do. Before you can make a move to clean it up Cas attains the tissues from your dresser and begins delicately wiping you down.

“Thank you.” You smile at him as he finishes and begins to clean himself up.

“I… ah.” He smiles back at you, still flushed from your activities. “I feel I should be the one thanking you.”

You laugh at the absurdity of his statement, especially after the performance he’d just given. Cas soon reciprocates your laughter. You stretch your arms out, inviting him back in for an embrace and he eagerly obliges, wrapping his arms around you and falling back against your mattress.

“Will you sleep in here, with me tonight?” Your eyes catch the clock on your bedside, and you note that it is almost sunrise. “Or, for the rest of the morning?”

He kisses your forehead and pulls you in close. “I would enjoy that very much.”

#human castiel/reader #castiel/reader #castiel fic #castiel reader insert #castiel #supernatural imagine #supernatural reader insert #smut #castiel smut #castiel x reader #gilverrwrites

[ninzied]

his hands are in my hair, his

in which henry’s hand in his hair just does things to him, okay?

He’s not the big spoon all the time.

When they’re pressed for space (the limo in Berlin, for example), he somehow ends up with his head tucked into Henry’s shoulder—blissed out, fuckstruck, arm draped over Henry’s torso, Henry’s fingers in his hair.

Or when Alex falls asleep in other places Henry would call inopportune (listen—the Met Gala ran late and it’s a long train ride back to their brownstone), it’s always to Henry’s body wrapped warmly around his, the soothing feel of Henry’s fingers lightly dragging through his curls, against his scalp down to his nape, and…mmm…Alex can’t help but nod right off.

All right, so, maybe he’s starting to see a pattern form here.

Henry has a thing for his hair. Alex knows it. Alex likes it. (More than likes it—can be very vocal about it in fact—and it’s not not partly because of the way Henry flushes pretty pink when they’re dancing in front of a statue of Venus and Alex makes how much he enjoys it known directly into Henry’s ear.)

Alex is also learning that under the right circumstances, he likes it to the point where his brain short-circuits by shutting off altogether—which, whether it happens while they’re at June and Nora’s or on the couch in their own home, so entirely not his own doing.

Alex can’t help if his boyfriend’s obsessed with touching his hair.

Anyway, case in point: tonight they’re sprawled out on said couch, Alex with a textbook, Henry with David curled up on his other side, the two of them engrossed in their third episode of Bake Off. Alex is so content that he feels warm with it, even halfway to drowsy, even though he still has another chapter or four to get through before bed.

It’s a valiant effort, staying awake, considering Henry’s wound his hand through Alex’s hair yet again, his elbow resting on Alex’s shoulder, and he smells like home when Alex buries his face into his chest, just breathing him in, breathing in this, and—wait. Wait a minute.

Alex leans back, though not far enough to pull Henry’s hand away from his hair. Not that, never that. “How dare you try to lull me to sleep with your hand in my hair right in the middle of biscuit week?” he demands, suitably indignant for someone who’s just yawned so loudly that even David looked reproachful.

Henry levels him with a bemused expression. “Darling,” he says, like Alex is being a little bit slow. “You’re the one who put my hand there.”

“What?”

“You put my hand there,” Henry repeats. The corner of his mouth twitches up in the slightest hint of a smirk, which Alex resolves to do something about momentarily. “You literally reached over about five minutes ago, wormed your way beneath my arm and then bodily forced my hand in your hair.” Almost a full-blown smirk now, and yep, Alex is definitely going to kiss it right off his face in a second. “Wouldn’t be the first time, either, in case you happened to wonder.”

Lies, Alex thinks.

“Lies,” Alex tells him. “That is not a thing.” At Henry’s look, which is altogether too smug for his liking (another lie, thinks Alex again, he actually likes it a hell of a lot), he leans back in, pressing his nose against Henry’s jawline. “But I do like it when you talk dirty to me.”

Henry’s breath gives the tiniest hitch, fingers tightening almost reflexively in Alex’s hair. It sends a full-body shudder down his spine, driving all rational thought from his mind as he presses even closer, and, well—even if it is a thing that he does (it isn’t (oh, it so, so is)), Alex can hardly be held accountable when this is the state it leaves him in, can he?

also on ao3 because why not.

#rwrb #firstprince #firstprince fic #rwrbedit #rwrbsource #i wrote a little instead of giffing today and it was nice #probs going to write a morning sex followup feat. alex's hands in henry's hair this time #henry's hair deserves some lovin' too #(the venus that's at the met btw) #(just realized the gif makes it confusing) #red white and royal blue

[siempre-bucky]

golden barn lights

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

summary: After your elopement, you and Jake head to Texas for his family's ranch party. You keep your relationship a secret, not wanting to steal his mom's thunder, but Jake finally gets you alone for a dance outside.

wc: 2.2k

an: wow, look at me not giving jake daddy issues....enjoy.

Jake was thankful for the traffic on the dirt road that led to his family’s ranch. His hand rested on your thigh, his fingers tapping along to the Patsy Cline song coming from the speakers, emerald colored eyes flashing between the car in front of him and the changing colors of the trees. The traffic meant more alone time with you, delaying the arrival of the town’s prodigal children.  

“You have a pretty voice,” you said warmly, your head resting against the glass. You watched the fall colored leaves fall from the trees that blocked the golden sun, smiling to yourself as a rust toned leaf got stuck in the window. 

His pink lips upturned in a genuine smile, you always knew by the soft lines that formed around his mouth. You turned your head to look at him, and just as you figured, a soft pink blush dusted his cheeks. “You did that on purpose, darlin’,” he groaned, his eyes catching your smug grin. 

“I suppose,” you responded nonchalantly, the smirk you wore told something different. Jake grimaced as the long line of cars started to move. Shifting in your seat, you moved his hand off your thigh and intertwined your fingers. Goosebumps formed on his arm as the cold gemstone of your engagement ring grazed the bare skin of his finger. All you could do was smile and place loving kisses on his knuckles. 

Every year, for a few weeks in October, the Seresin Ranch would open its large iron gates to the public. The pumpkin patch and hayrides were something out of a cheesy romcom, and Nora Seresin ate it up. She made sure the grand opening night would be over the top as soon as she found out her beloved son would be coming home just in time, his best friend right beside him. He recalled something about a new fall themed garden from one of their phone calls. The town was buzzing as soon as word spread. 

Oh if only the town knew. 

“Ready?” Jake asked as he finally pulled into the garage, the truck’s engine a soft rumble. 

The solemness in his features didn’t go unnoticed, and neither did yours. His gaze was trained on the silver band that wrapped around his ring finger. “I’m not ready to take it off,” you matched his glum tone, looking at the slender silver wedding band on yours. 

It was a couple of weeks of bliss; Jake running from his plane, wrapping you in his arms, and begged you to marry him after the almost suicide mission. At first, you thought it was the adrenaline and the cheering crowd on the carrier that boosted his ego, but then he pulled out a ring when the moon took its place in the sky. With phones turned off and lips sworn to a temporary secret, you and Jake shared promises and a loving kiss in a quaint courthouse. 

Jake removed your rings and you removed his before he placed them carefully in the glove compartment. “We’ll tell them tomorrow,” he repeated his promise as the two of you exited the truck. You smoothed down your sundress (you praised mother nature for the perfect Texas fall weather) giving Jake enough time to round the vehicle and guide you to the barn across the path. 

“When my family comes over for breakfast,” you added, smiling at the people happily roaming the ranch. 

“Ma will kill me if I ruin her moment,” he chuckled. It was common knowledge that no Seresin liked their thunder stolen, and what a doozy would it be to announce the elopement of childhood friends. 

Jake’s hand itched at his side as you two walked, his fingers twitching at the feeling of your empty hand next to him. He’d grown accustomed to having you close, fate being an unlikely friend and placing you beside him at every point in your Navy career. He’d always known you, it was hard not to in such a small Texas town. Typically, the whole town would cheer for a pair of best friends falling in love, mothers would roll their eyes and shake their heads while fathers would playfully place bets—it never happened to the two of you. No bets, no playful remarks, surely it came out of nowhere like Jake’s plane emerging from the clouds to save Rooster and Maverick’s lives. 

The large red barn came into view, golden light pouring from the open doors and windows, lively country music coming from the band inside. “Save me a dance?” you asked him playfully as you spotted your parents speaking with his own. 

He grinned and shot you a wink, “Sure, baby.” 

It didn’t take long for a pair of joyous squeals to ring out. You and Jake stood in front of the doors for a whole two seconds before your mothers hugged you and squeezed the daylights out of you. “Hi, mom,” you managed to get out, patting her back. 

“Son,” Jacob Seresin Sr. laughed pridefully, clapping a large hand on Jake’s shoulder. “Good to see you back. I’m proud of you son.” A warmth spread through him, his heart probably couldn’t feel fuller in that moment. His wife wrapped in the arms of his beloved mother, his father speaking about him in such high regard to everyone that would listen—he took a moment to soak it in. He’d lie if anyone asked why his eyes were glossy. 

“Sweetheart, I’m so happy you’re here,” your mother cooed, cupping your face to check for cuts and bruises. 

“Me too, mama,” you giggled, playfully shaking your head to get out of her motherly grasp. 

“Enjoy the event, kids,” Jacob chimed in, raising his amber colored bottle in the air and pointing in the direction of the interior. 

Jake was about to pour out a string of compliments of the event, but then an older woman rushed over; rushing as much as she could for a frail eighty year old woman. She looped a veiny arm around Jake’s and dragged him with a surprising amount of force, muttering something about spiked punch and her granddaughter. He looked back at you with a dramatic pleading face, making you giggle and bite down on your lip to prevent a wide grin. 

Much to your and Jake’s disappointment, that was the last time you interacted the entire evening; whisked away by military veterans dying for a good mission story and older women trying to set you up with their sons and daughters. The band’s country music reverberated off the walls, you smiled, and the mix of elegance and coziness that Jake’s mom was able to achieve. 

You were having your ear talked off by some of your old high school girlfriends, gushing about recent engagements and promotions. Their words sounded fuzzy, your attention was set on the corner of the room which was occupied by a few guys in flannel. Normally that corner was home to loose hay covering the floor; Jake kissed you there for the first time when you were younger, a few days away from leaving for flight school. He threw you into the hay, and you grabbed his wrist to pull him down on top of you. You managed to recall every shade of green and fleck of gold in his irises as he looked at you longingly until they became blurry from how close he got. Your lips still managed to tingle in remembrance. 

He’s alone, you thought happily as you caught his stare, his eyebrows raised hopefully. You uttered a lame excuse and started to cross the large floor to him. The blond started to rise from his seat, ready to give you that dance. An older woman patted your arm, pivoting your direction as she guided you. 

Jake sat back down. 

You shrugged and weakly smiled. 

The dances continued, and the same stories began to shift and change as exhaustion set in. You and Jake almost gave up in trying to find each other after the fourth line dance. His patience wore thin when he reached for your hand but was grabbed by another, and that string almost snapped when the lady with hair as high as the heavens said her daughter was single. Doin’ this for ma, he thought bitterly to himself with clenched fists and gritted teeth.  

There was an ocean of people between you, the opposite walls of the barn holding the two of you up. His eyes locked with yours and your body began to relax. He motioned his head towards the back door, a small smirk on his handsome features. Eagerly nodding your head in response, he walked with urgency towards the wood door. 

Jake finally drew in a breath of relief as darkness covered him like a comfortable blanket. The cold air soothing his lungs, he looked to the sky, breath stolen by brilliant stars. Nothing could compare to the stars in a cloudless Texas sky, not even the ones on a carrier in the middle of the ocean. 

“Jake,” you whispered into the night. His lips immediately turned upward, his gaze looking for you in the dark. He could always pick you out in a crowd and even in the dark; he knew the way you walked, how you held yourself, and your silhouette was something he prided himself on memorizing. 

“You know,” he spoke confidently, making you jump at the volume, “I’ve been waitin’ to get you in my arms all night.” 

He heard you giggle shyly, then he felt your hands press against his chest and slid them down his abs, nails gently dragging along the material. Your hands finally rested on his back, the side of your face pressed in between his defined pecs. “I got three marriage proposals, what about you?” you murmured ss he began to sway from side to side. The same Patsy Cline song he heard from the car now being played by the band, he hummed along before he replied. 

Jake laughed and pressed an amused kiss to the top of your head. “Five. I’m in demand, baby.” 

You shifted in his embrace, worming your arms around his neck and he instinctively gripped your hips. “I have competition,” you joked, looking up. His features were barely visible in the darkness. 

He scoffed jokingly, gently slapping your hips. “Far, far from it. You’re the only one that could get a ring on my finger.” 

“Sap,” you chuckled, rising on your tiptoes to kiss him. Hours without one of his sweet kisses felt like years to you; blame it on the newlywed bliss. His warm hand slid upwards, leaving goosebumps in its wake before he managed to cup the nape of your neck. Your eyes fluttered close, focusing on his touch.

Something illuminated the darkness, making your nose crinkle. Golden lights flickered on, before finally lighting up the space behind the barn. You and Jake’s lips finally parted, still wrapped up in each other's arms as you observed. Fairy lights littered the space, wrapping around large sunflowers and corn stocks while larger lights were hung in the air like a big top tent. Before the fear set in, you thought your husband looked beautiful and he thought the same of you. 

He looked towards the barn, blood turning cold as he saw his mother with her dainty finger on the light switch. Her signature Seresin smirk was displayed proudly, the shake of her head made a heat rush to your face. “Ma-” 

“Save it,” she snickered, waving him off. “I got eyes, son.” 

Jake sheepishly pulled away from you, his fingers twitching. “There’s something we gotta-” 

He was cut off once more, this time by you, “We weren't ready to tell anyone.” He looked down at you in surprise, his lips slightly parted. He was more than ready to tell her about the elopement. 

“Can’t say I’m surprised,” she sighed with a smile, nodding in understanding. “When Jakey came home from his first day of sixth grade talkin’ about a girl in math class. I just knew you were bound to go steady.” 

You and Jake chuckled. “This is still her moment,” you whispered, “We’re not ready for one of her stern talking tos.” 

“Y’all have a nice night,” she winked before going back to the party. 

After a few breaths of relief, Jake took you back in his arms. You hummed at the warmth and nuzzled your face back into his chest, smiling at how fast his heart was racing. "We could have told her," he mumbled. 

"I kinda wanna savor this a little longer." You responded, holding him a little tighter. Jake laughed and put the side of his face on the crown of your head, gently moving you to the music. 

"Till breakfast?" 

"Over your mom's pumpkin pancakes." 

—

"Married!" Your mother's exclaimed at the same time. The table stood still as you and Jake stood at the head of the table, rings displayed proudly on your hands. Jake caught his father slip your dad a fifty-dollar bill, and you watched your siblings share knowing looks with Jake’s sisters. 

“When did this start?” Your dad asked with a grin. 

“Before flight school,” Jake’s older sister answered. 

“In the barn,” his younger sister added. 

“Y’all needed a better hiding spot,” your sister snickered in between bits of her food. 

Nora got up from the table and held your hand, her free one lovingly stroking Jake’s cheek. “We didn’t wanna ruin the party ma… you know how you get,” Jake said lightly. 

 “I see why you didn’t tell me,” she chuckled. “Welcome to the family, sweetie, officially.”

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin oneshot #hangman #hngman x reader #hangman x you #hangman imagine #top gun #top gun maverick

[razorblade180-heated]

Early Christmas Gift

[Warning, smut. Like the whole thing]

It had been a looooog day for Jaune Arc. The end of a crazy mission that had far too many explosions, the loss of his wallet for half the day which forced him to miss his boat, and finally, bad turbulence on a flight all the way back to Vale. Now it was the dead of night and he was wheeling his luggage down the sidewalks. At least he didn’t vomit on the ride, this time.

“Note to self, Vacou kids are amazing pickpockets.” He mumbled aloud. Thank goodness Ren was quick on his feet and that Nora could be as scary as she could be sweet. If not, things could’ve been worse. Now that he was back in the city, his Scroll was practically blowing up with messages. Notably, his girlfriend, Yang, called a little more than Ruby. Before he could finally return a call, his scroll rang with Yang’s name.

He laughed nervously and smiled, preparing himself as he answered. “H-”

“SO YOU ARE ALIVE!? WHAT THE HECK MAN!?” The blonde yelled, relieved and annoyed.

Honestly, less aggressive than he expected. “Hi baby. I’m sorry.” Jaune deflated as he spoke. “Today has been a day.”

“That’s putting it mildly. Weren’t you supposed to be home seven hours ago? Did the mission go south? You didn’t get hurt did you?”

“No, the mission was pretty Nora core. All and all we made good time but then someone stole my stuff, missed my boat; lots of other very, very exhausting stuff. I’m walking home as we speak.”

“Wow. That’s…definitely a lot. Wait, you’re walking? It’s nearly midnight. You could’ve called me or someone to pick you up from the port.”

“I figured everyone was asleep.”

“Get real. Do you really think I’d be sound asleep before I knew you were okay?”

Those words warmed his heart greatly. “Thanks Yang. I’m fine though. Vale isn’t some ghost town at night. I am sorry though. We had plans to meet today. You must’ve been waiting a while.”

“You…could say that.” Yang laughed sheepishly. “Here I was, ready to see my boyfriend after we finished our missions and his annoying personal challenge was achieved.”

“A month without sex is a test of will and power.” He defended.

“November is the time for good food and being thankful. Anything else is wild. Besides, we’ve both gone years without fun stuff. Why add a month?”

“Heh, I don’t think being a single or a virgin counts. You’re just opted in at that point. How did your mission go by the way?”

“Got home on time.”

“Ouch… where’d the warmth go?” He teases.

“I know you’re fine now. If you want warmth then…maybe I should see you?”

“You’re an island away. Even if you caught the final flight I’d feel guilty. Though if it makes you feel better…I’ve been missing you all day.”

“…Always the charmer. I’ve definitely been missing you too.” She said, a little more bashful than usual.

“There’s always tomorrow. I’m definitely not going anywhere. Aside from grocery shopping.”

“Have you eaten?”

“My apartment should still have something edible. I’ll probably grab a snack, bathe, and crash.” He finally reached his building’s street. “Anyways, I’ve officially made it home safely. Just several feet away. Now you can have pretty dreams knowing I’m safe.”

“Nope. Not until you go through your front door. I’m not hanging up until you do.”

“Okay, okay. Heh, honestly with my luck something crazy would happen if I hung up early.” He laughed.

“Please don’t jinx yourself.”

Jaune made his way down the hall, up some annoying stairs, and to the front of his door.

“Kay, now you are free to sleep.”

“Have a wonderful night, handsome.” Yang made a kiss noise over the phone and hung up.

Just like that, Jaune felt the warmth again. She was so good to him. He’d definitely have to treat her to a dinner or some kind of club date. The man found his keys and went inside his home at last. Instantly his nose was greeted with wonder and bliss. That was…odd. He put down his belongings and walked over to the kitchen; a flick of the light revealed a hot box of pizza. Jaune had to do a double take to make sure this was his place. He then noticed Yang’s emblem drawn in orange on the box.

“Ah, that’s why she asked if I ate.” He smiled before quickly going back to being confused. How was the pizza hot? Yang had a key to his place but when was she over here? Did she leave briefly before he called? Unless…

Jaune looked towards the absolute darkness that was his living room and squinted. Not that it helped with the balcony blinds shut. “Yang?”

His call was answered with snickering. “Hehehe, I do love watching your brain at work. Although…” She pulled the metal lamp string next to her to light up the room. “You’re also cute when it’s derailed.

And derailed it was. There his cute girlfriend was, sitting on his black leather recliner his family had bought him. Her smile was cheeky as well as ear to ear. She sure caught him by surprise, but the real shock was her outfit. A silly little Santa hat on top of her head jingled while the only thing on her body was a red tube top with white frills that was fighting for his life, a matching miniskirt that barely went halfway down her thighs, and very, very long red stockings that compensated for the skirt’s lack of…well, skirt.

Jaune’s mouth went dry and his eyes embarrassingly wide. It was as if Yang had knocked the exhaustion out of them. He wasn’t quite sure where he should’ve been looking at first, but then noticed despite how confidently the lady sat there with her legs crossed, her cheeks were branded pink and her gaze, while excited, was also avoiding complete eye contact.

“For the record, I’ve been in this for quite awhile.” She said, breaking the silence. “It took guts to commit to this surprise.”

“Now I’m curious what you would’ve done if I had called you to pick me up!”

“Then Remnant would’ve gotten a hot Mrs. Claus on a motorcycle.” She smirked. “Although I’m actually very relieved that was not the case. It’s cold out there!”

Not the issue Jaune thought she was going to say but he rolled with it. Not that he had much choice. Yang finally stood up and slowly walked towards him, draping her arms over his shoulders and giving a more endearing grin despite her obvious flustered face. “Welcome home. As you can see, I missed you.”

He nodded, “Yeah, I can feel the yearning. Hehe, you look…wow. Talk about an early present.” His hands automatically went to hold her waist.”

Yang got on her toes and gained a very sweet and joyful kiss. She’s glad her efforts paid off, but she could tell Jaune really had a long day. “Go grab a slice and unwind yourself. I’m not going anywhere so- mmph!?”

Her offer was outright denied, thrown to the side as Jaune pulled her body closer and back into a more passionate kiss that fluttered her heart and stole her breath. The longer kept her in his arms, the more she found herself melting into the embrace to the point her knees buckled before he allowed her to breathe again.

Frazzled, Yang found herself stammering and chewing on her bottom lip. “I um- I uhh can wait a while longer for you to rest.”

“I’ve made you wait long enough.” He said with yearning and restrained lust as he pulled her back into a kiss that took custody of her tongue.

Yang felt herself rise up onto her toes as Jaune’s hands found residence on her shapely rear. He didn’t think twice about squeezing it as he picked her up and allowed her legs to wrap around his waist. It didn’t take long before her man went a step further in sliding his hands under the provocative skirt. Jaune quickly ended their kiss to gaze at her as her face grew red from his curious expression.

“No underwear huh?” He said, sinking his digits into warm flesh. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Funny. I was wondering the same thing.” Her hands rubbed his broad chest. “Come sit on the couch for you me will ya?”

He followed her quest and sat right in the middle of the couch. Yang was about to get off him for the next step, but was clearly taken by surprise when his teeth tugged her tube top down, freeing her massive chest before ravishing them. A jolt ram through her spine as his warm tongue lapped around her nipples. His hands kept her waist pressed down on her lap to the point she had no choice but to feel his pulsing cock through tight jeans. Nevertheless, Yang couldn’t stop her hips from grinning along it, dampening the fabric severely.

“H-Hey…wait! I-mmm” Her voice shook, feeling him sink his teeth into her. Jaune leaned forward, putting Yang on her back as he continued devouring her body. “Jaune! Hold on~ I…had a whole routine~” Yangs mewls only served to make him more daring. His tongue trailed up her neck, causing her entire body to arch as he met her lips again for another kiss. Yang was overwhelmed with the scent of the boy and his rough day, which she increasingly found more and more dulling to her senses. She didn’t even notice Jaune had unzipped his pants until she felt his buring hot tip rubbing along her folds. “Mmmph”

Jaune could already feel her lips quivering as they coated his cock. To get this excited so quickly; he wasn’t one to talk though. He began pushing his hips continuously into the molten warmth.

“Aaaaah!” Yang felt the wind leave her body as Jaune’s thick cock spread her body apart and filled her inch by inch until she felt the weight of his balls against her ass. He slowly began dragging himself out halfway before plummeting back in as he grunted. “Ah fuck!” Yang gripped his forearms as her body tripped to adjust.

“Gods, I missed you. You’re so wet.”

“Who’s fault is that!?” Yang’s breathing became sharper as Jaune started moving. “Nng, too big. Rock solid too~”

“It has been a long month. I’m dying for a release.”

“How do you think I feel!? It hasn’t been easy for me either.” She pouted. Suddenly she felt his movements slow. “Jaune?” He raised himself up and looked down at her with a shocked look from between her legs. “What?”

“Are you telling me you didn’t touch yourself the entire time?”

Yang felt heat rush to her face. Looking at him became a lot harder so she turned her head to the side. “What would be the point? Even if I used a toy, I just wouldn’t feel as good as you.”

A brief silence fell on them. Yang awaited his response when she suddenly felt him twitch inside her. Jaune’s hands held her waist tightly and raised her lower body off the couch with ease, causing her to look his way. “What are you-” was all she could manage before seeing Jaune thrust his hips forward, causing another series of jolts as he began to go all out.

Yang’s mouth fell open and stayed that way as voiceless, broken cries left her throat until a scream finally broke out. “AAAAGHN~” her brain became a mess, her eyes fluttering at the sight of jaune mercilessly fucking her pussy until their sex became loud and wet. Her stomach felt like fire as her hips became numb with the pleasure of being turned inside out. Each deep rub made her gasp for air she couldn’t gain while her chest bounced to the rough rhythm. “B-baby. Baby! Aaah!” Yang reached for him and he gladly returned to her embrace. She knew despite her pleas, his pace would not falter; nor did she want it to. Their pleasure had built too quickly to turn back now. With a final raise of his hips, Yang felt the man bury himself deep inside and release a rush of heat that made her body squeeze him for more as her vision blurred momentarily. When she recovered, Jaune was already pulling out slowly and giving both of their bodies a break. Still, if you were to go by appearances, Jaune’s body hadn’t calmed down in the slightest.

“Looks like all of you missed me.” Yang huffed, sitting up as her legs gained some feeling. “If I didn’t know any better, I would think you were trying to have a kid.”

Jaune watched the woman run her middle finger along her slit to pick up some of the lust he left dripping in her. Yang looked him dead in the eyes as she lapped up the naughty taste, making him blush.

“I had an entire routine planned out and you threw it to the side. Not that I mind.”

“You can’t say the things you said a

and wear this without expecting me to get riled up.”

“Heh, touché.” Her gaze fell on his erection, the near seven inches of solid flesh was still ready. Might as well start her plans now, Yang thought. She leaned forward, crawling on hands and knees until she was in the perfect spot to lower her head.

Jaune shuddered as he felt her hot lips wrap around his length to lick him lavishly. Now he knew Yang was horny for sure. Giving head was never her favorite activity in this fun process, but now her face was happily burying itself in his lap repeatedly. His left hand brushed the blonde bombshell’s hair aside for an unobstructed view of her work.

Yang ran her tongue up and down the girth base, polishing it while making faint moans and wet smacks to turn him on more. She must’ve been losing her mind because the way his taste and smell overwhelmed her senses in the best way possible. Her grip on reality only came back when Jaune's hand struck her rear suddenly, his middle and ring finger slipping inside her body to stir her desires harder.

“Mmmm~”

Jaune couldn’t stop his smirk. “Oh you like that?”

“Mmhmm~” Yang readied herself and pressed down in one motion to feel this man in her throat before coming up for air. Yang could feel his digits grow relentless as they sped up. Unable to focus, she freed Jaune from her mouth in a fit of panting and mewls. Her hips couldn’t stop shaking, pushing against his hand to feel each knuckle rub deeper. “Gods, why is this so good?”

“Cum if you need to. Let me see that pretty face.”

“No~ I…I wanted to use my tits on you. But now I…I’m…” Yang let out a long, heartfelt sigh. How did things get this messy so fast? “Put it back in me. I want it.”

Jaune retracted his fingers and did his best to regain his own composure; a difficult task when the love of his life not only pleaded, but brazenly kissed along his shaft in a stupor of want and desire. “Ngh, Yang, get on my lap if you want it.”

Yang got on her knees then swung her right leg to the other side of Jaune’s waist. The boy wasted no time massaging and kneading her chest, riddling it with bits as Yang cooed. Her body dropped slowly, piercing herself onto Jaune’s flesh.

“Aaaaghn~” her hands ran up his chest and gripped his shoulders as Yang started bouncing on his lap, putting all her weight down each time to feel her womb get knocked on. Jaune’s mouth stayed busy where it was but his hands returned to her rear, molding it like clay as he helped push her down to the base. Her hips buckled. “Fuck!”

Heavy, wet smacks echoed every time her ass slammed onto Jaune’s lap. The man couldn’t believe the tightness that surrounded him; the way it clung it his length and coated it with ecstasy that reached his thighs. Engulfed by Yang’s heat, Jaune finally took a second to separate his lips from his body and removed his shirt. Yang’s arms all but sprang out towards him right after, pulling him into a feverish kiss while her hips moved on their own before his hands returned.

“You’re so in love with my ass tonight.” Yang hummed.

“I’m in love with it every night.” He continued kneading it, his fingers rubbing all of it. “Hey, so how much did you prepare for today?”

Yang didn’t get the question at first, until she felt a single finger tracing her asshole. Yang couldn’t hide the state of blushing red he put her into with his pesky intention. To make it worse, her body already gave him the answer to the question. Yang buried her face into the crook of Jaune’s neck and quivered as the naughty middle finger pressed into her slowly. A moan came from her throat and her hips worked over time on his cock as Jaune began to play his little game.

He could already feel her walls frantically twitching but he knew he could make Yang go crazy. He wanted to make the month of emptiness mean everything. He nipped at her ear as he continued fingering her. “You’re such a good girl, you that? Doing all this for me; allowing me to cut loose~” he thrusted up suddenly.

“AAAHH!” His nipping turned into feverish licks as well. Yang tried staying strong but now he was meeting her thrusts and pumped his finger into her more quickly. Her body became repeated jolts of pleasure to the point Yang could only bite her lover’s shoulder as a way to soften her growls.

Jaune’s only panting became like a drunken breath as he approached his end. “Good girl~” he cooed, leaning right into her ear and whispering it one more time. “Gooood girl.” He pressed her hips down against his waist, going as deep as possible. “Here’s your reward!” He grunted, cumming for the second time.

Every muscle in Yang’s body tensed all at once. She was certain she’d scream, yet the immense rush of pleasure stole voice, leaving nothing but a silent yell as she clung to him like a girl on a wild roller coaster. Pulse after pulse, she felt her insides get marked by Jaune. The dork was brazen enough to call it a “reward” and she had half a mind to thank him for it. They were going crazy. Not that she hated it for a second.

Yang felt Jaune relax under her body while she found the strength to set up after his hands finished toying with her. “Wow, that was- hmm” Yang stopped short as she witnessed Jaune struggling to keep his eyes open. Poor guy was spent! It was almost hard not to laugh. “Pfft, gee, looks like someone should’ve eaten.”

“I was hungry for other things.” He groaned, wrapping his arms around her torso and resting his face in her chest. “But now that pizza sounds like a wonderful idea.”

“Oh what to do with you?” Yang giggled, her hands combing through his hands. Truthfully, she wanted him to stay inside like this a little longer, but the last thing she wanted was her boyfriend withering away. Yang kissed the top of his head. “I’ll go fix you a plate.”

“You’re wonderful.”

“And you’re outstanding. My hips are still floating.” She said, embarrassed by her own honesty.

“Let’s wash up together after we eat.”

“Only washing?” She teased, only to feel him twitch inside of her. Yang gasped a little. Jaune raised his head to look into her eyes with a gaze that made her chew on her bottom lip again. Tonight was going to be a long night. “Welcome home.”

#rwby #jaune arc #yang xiao long #rwby dragonslayer

[aspoonofsugar]

Confessions, Secrets And Stories

This week's episode juxtaposes Bumbleby's confession with the secrets and doubts in Ruby, Weiss and Jaune's trio. Some more thoughts and feels :''')

BUMBLEBY'S BRIDGE DANCE

Bumbleby's love confession is framed as a dance with them inviting each other to keep up. This works well considering Bumbleby's romantic framing starts with the Beacon Dance:

At the same time the whole scene is a challenge for Blake and Yang to overcome the distance between each other. This all culminates with a chemical wedding (the third) as @hamliet states here.

Other than this, as others have already noticed and as Casey has confirmed, the scene calls back to the Bmblb song:

Now the flowers are in bloom And you've chased away my darkness and gloom When the wind blows through the trees And your voice is like a song in the breeze

My doubts disappear Every time that you're near The clouds seem to run from the sky The thought of your kiss Sends my soul into bliss I get high

This is literally what happens. As Yang and Blake open up, the storm goes away and the sun comes out... until finally the flowers bloom as they kiss:

The sky is both purple and gold, so there is balance, there is Yin and Yang.

Finally, this whole sequence explores one of the positive declinations of falling aka falling in love:

Yang: It's like... a cliff and if I do it, I am just going to... fall. Blake: I think we are already falling

Trying to save a city, risking your life for others and making a love confession are all risks, that may lead to your fall... and yet... they are still worth it:

Yang: You were being optimistic. Look, blind optimism isn’t great, but no optimism means we already lost. We need hope. We need to take risks.

Interesting this line is from the episode Risk, where Ren takes a risk and confesses to Nora (among other things). There is clearly a theme going on here, that juxtaposes the fear of falling with the aknowledgement you will never gain anything if you do not take a leap of faith.

Which is why it is interesting the episode offers a very specific parallel to Risk:

Ruby: What good is saving anybody if Salem just destroys the world anyway. Yang: That's how Ironwood thought. You don't mean that

Both times Ruby is giving in to cynism and Yang tries to support her.

And yet, it is obvious this dynamic can't keep going on forever:

All in all, I find Ruby's reaction to bumbleby interesting, especially when compared to Weiss:

Weiss is shown to smile subtly, clearly happy for her teammates. Ruby's reaction is instead much more neutral, after the initial surprise.

Now, I am not suggesting Ruby is unhappy about Yang and Blake ending up together... She has always been supportive of her sister and friend and has been genuinelly happy in volume 6 over their relationship being repaired. Similarly, I am not suggesting Ruby can't do anything by herself and needs Yang to be self-sufficient... (again we have her pushing forward in volume 4 without her sister)...

Still, Ruby is right now not in a happy nor stable place and it is shown in how she emotionally leans on Yang (when she even lets herself lean on someone)...

See the 2 abovementioned scenes, Ruby's frozen reaction to Yang falling, Ruby's shock over Yang choosing to follow her own plan instead of Ruby's, Neo transforming into Yang while she is falling, but also Ruby nervously asking where Yang is this episode and only later on wondering about Blake...

All of this, in a volume where this line is said:

Ruby: If you thought we wouldn’t come for you, then you must’ve forgotten who raised me.

Clearly Yang is someone Ruby strongly looks up to and a person who has tried to fill Summer's absence in Ruby's life. So, having her big sister moving on in a romantic relationship with someone else might lead to some interesting reactions for Ruby.

RUBY, JAUNE AND WEISS: THE MIRROR TRIO

Ruby, Jaune and Weiss's journey through the storm is about taking a long look in the mirror...

They are supposed to confront who they are, but they all make little progress...

Once again we have the characters dealing with:

Identity

The mirrors give Ruby and Jaune opposite reflections. A parent and a projection of an idealized future self and a younger past self.

On the one hand Ruby's mirror image is Summer. This may be because Ruby keeps repressing her trauma over losing her. Or because she has tied her own self perception to her idealized idea of Summer. Or Both. On the other hand Jaune's reflection is his younger self. Why is that so? Is it because despite looking more "mature", as Weiss puts it, he is a person who failed to grow? Is it because deep down his young idealistic self is still there waiting to be saved? To escape the mirror? Is that a sign that Jaune wishes to go back to that "self"? The young knight, who was just starting to shine in Atlas? Or is it that he is deep down scared to face him?

At the same time, Ruby and Jaune's reactions to their reflections is also different. Ruby doesn't see hers > hence she is ignoring it. Jaune keeps looking at his > hence he can't get over it.

Grief

Both Jaune and Weiss see images related to their experiences in Atlas. Jaune sees Penny, while Weiss sees her city. Two interesting details:

1 - When Jaune sees Penny he says:

It all happened. Just not the way Alyx said when she wrote it.

This is a clear nod to Jaune not telling RWBY how Penny died exactly. He is witholding information. The reason why is clear and understandable, but it may create friction later on.

2 - When Weiss is looking at the mirror, Ruby sees it. It is now 3 times that we have had this exact dynamic with our 2 girls:

In episode 2 Weiss opens up about her feelings over losing Atlas to Ruby

In episode 5 Weiss links the destruction of the market to Atlas's fall and Ruby consoles her

In episode 6 Ruby looks at Weiss grieving over Atlas

This is clearly a pattern, which can mean several things, as for now.

First of all, Ruby might clearly be projecting. She feels the same as Weiss, but while our Snowhite openly shows it, Ruby processes her feelings through her.

Secondly, Weiss should be the one noticing something is off with Ruby and comforting her, but so far she has failed. She tries to address Penny, but Ruby refuses to open up. At the market, she looks out for Ruby physically, but is unable to see her partner's psychological distress (hence being irritated when Ruby doesn't get the ingredient they need).

In general, Jaune, Ruby and Weiss are clearly all foils and I think their storylines are entangled. Specifcially, Jaune and Ruby are going through parallel and yet opposite journeys:

We see both of them fall

Both hear Penny's voice while falling

Both see someone/something while falling

Ruby sees Neo aka her own metaphorical mirror image. She is also someone she wants to run away from. Jaune sees Ruby's weapon, which represents an ideal. Jaune, like all the others has been inspired by Ruby:

Jaune: Ruby. We lost… We lost Pyrrha. You lost her, too. And Penny and your team and in a way… your sister. But you're still here, despite everything you've lost, everything you could still lose, you chose to come out here, because you felt like you could make a difference. You didn't drag us along, you gave us the courage to follow you.

So, the moment he sees Crescent Rose he immediately dives after it... to the point that years later he is still looking for it.

Ruby runs away from her fears, while Jaune runs after an ideal.

What does Weiss has to do with it?

She is probably gonna be a link between them. She was there when Penny died and is grieving her own loss. However, as previous episodes showed, she has developed a strong sense of self:

She has already broken the mirror:

I'm shattering the mirror that kept me split in pieces That stood between my mind and my heart This is where I'll start

I looked in the mirror And I gotta say It’s been a long long time Since I felt this way

Jaune and Ruby are instead clearly still trapped in the looking glass. I wonder if Weiss is meant to help with that. However, she first has to look at them earnestly. To see that even if Jaune looks adult-like he is not psychologically well. To see that even if Ruby has always supported her, she needs her support now.

JAUNE AND TIME

Penny: No… there’s not enough time to heal me…

Interesting that the reason why Jaune is forced to kill Penny is time and the first thing he does after landing in Ever After is to pick a clock-fruit and to go back in time... Suddenly he has as much time as he wants... and yet he fails to use it.

Not only that, but he ironically keeps not having enough time:

Jaune: We don't have time for this! We got to get to my village!

Jaune: I didn't have time to make it right.

No matter how much time he has, Jaune can't make things right. Not only that, but metaphorically the situation he is in is a consequence of his own actions. He is the one who takes the fruit, which means the situation he is in is really a symbol of his own inner world. Not only that, but he decides to stubbornly wait years for the others. He could have tried plenty of things, like... he could have tried another fruit to go forward to the time RWBY fall. Or he could have tried to leave the Ever After. To go back to Remnant and keep fighting there. Instead he chooses to wait passively... to sacrifice his whole life waiting for his friends without even knowing when they will fall exactly.

This confirms what @bestworstcase says in this post > Jaune is probably the Hatter. (Also to comment more deeply I should reread the books)

The Hatter "kills time" by singing badly and from then on time refuses to help the Hatter out.

The Hatter is also friends with the March Hare and the two are often seen together.

Jaune is a White Knight, like the one Alice meets in Wonderland, but also:

He rides a jackalope (the March Hare)

He kills Penny and as a result his time stops to the poing he chooses to literally kill time:

(Also he kills time as in... he waits without doing anything constructive > hence he has been "killing time" for years)

So, he probably combines both characters... Interestingly, Neo too seems to allude to the Hatter in the Opening:

GIF di watrslides

Still, she also seems to be alluding to the Jabberwalker, as well:

GIF di warriordreamer95

A creature everybody considers a monster because they are unable to communicate:

Say something real Do you only speak in riddles, chatterbox? I'm waiting for your ugly mouth to just spit it out

Interesting such a character is linked to a mute girl whose whole backstory revolves around her struggle to find her own "silent voice".

Not to count Jaune clearly wants to be the hero who saves RWBY thanks to his plan (a helper, a guide, a side character), while Neo wants to be the villain who kills them (an antagonist, a writer).

So, it is possible Neo and Jaune both allude to the Hatter and combine this allusion with another one.

Still, Neo is not the only character Jaune foils when it comes to his role in the Ever After:

JAUNE AND THE CAT

Both the Rusted Knight and the Curious Cat present themselves as Helpers and Guides, both to RWBY and Alyx/Luis. Still, they have opposite ideas of what the protagonists should do. This difference is rooted in a thematic opposition...

Jaune refuses change, so he refuses the Tree

Jaune: That Tree is death. It absorbs you, takes your memories and turns you into something else. If you go there, it is going to erase you.

The Cat is instead change, so they feed the Tree

Curious Cat: I know, I know, where you're from, things …die… but we’re just not like you at all. We… ascend. Herb will have a purpose again.

Who is right? Is forgetting yourself a form of death or just the chance to a new life?

Probably there is truth in both positions. Thematically, they should embrace change, especially because the Tree symbolizes alchemy: destroy and create, so that things can transform and evolve. That said, forgetting who you are is definately not the right answer.

At the same time, Jaune is right about the Cat's power being manipulation. To be precise it can be both empathy and manipulation.

This is why the last thing CC tells Ruby and Weiss is manipulative, but also necessary to challenge them:

CC: She tricked me. Just like all you. You only want to use me in the same way I have only seen others as a source of knowledge and entertainment.

The CC is calling out RWBY and Jaune on their lack of empathy for the creatures of the Ever After. They accuse the CC of tricking them, but they used the cat, as well. This is true for their reaction to the Ever Ater, in general. They have reguarded the people of this Kingdom as nothing more than characters in a book. So, you have them making a mess at the Auction, deciding to destroy a kid in a chess game, and so on. They fought for Atlas, but could not do the same for a market full of strange creatures, like the Teapot lady. Sure, this is also probably because of their own issues and trauma. However, it is still telling they had a civilian defend them with their life. It is supposed to be the other way around. Especially because it is not the Jabberwalker, but Neo and they know. It is not a character in a book, but their own personal enemy. (I mean, the fact they flee the moment they realize it is Neo is also telling of their current mental states). It is not their world, so why should they fight to protect it?

Ironically, the CC clearly sees people of Remnant the same way. They keeps asking ro RWBY's story and is entertained by it, despite its sheer traegedy.

Speaking of stories...

ALYX AND LUIS

Alyx's story is still a mistery, as neither the CC nor Jaune really know what happened. Still, both agree on Alyx being a so not great person and a liar. As a matter of fact the only thing both Jaune and the CC seem to share is that they were both tricked by Alyx.

And yet, there is clearly more going on, as I think it is highly probable Alyx is the one trapped in the Ever After, while Luis got to leave.

As others have highlighted:

Alyx = Alice

Luis = Lewis Carrol

Not to count the clear foiling among Alyx, Neo and Ruby...

All in all, I think the ending of Alyx's story and what they learn about them will tell us something about Salem. As for now, I think this something will simply be that Alyx, just like Salem is human:

Red Prince: Human? Human?! I knew it! You must defeat them!

Humans can be both heroes and monsters, after all. It is probable Alyx was in fact as selfish as Jaune and the Cat say (I mean, why should they have gotten it wrong? Alyx and Luis were 2 kids and not 2 masterminds, as far as we know). Still, she was also a scared child lost in an unknown world:

Oscar: I thought the idea of falling through Remnant into a new world was exciting. I never understood why she was so sad when she finally made it back home. But now it makes more sense. (Ozpin) She wasn't the same girl anymore.

A child who was clearly struggling with deep personal problems:

Jaune: Like, the Herbalist. Something changed there. Whatever he said to her, she wasn't the same anymore.

(Also... nice going the only one who could maybe tell them what ticked Alice off is now gone :P)

It is probable she failed to change in a healthy way and stayed trapped in the Ever After. If Luis is the one who actually left (and there is not an inversione where he is the "mean one", which I doubt), maybe he went back home and wrote a story to celebrate his sister by toning down her negative traits.

I don't think the point is for them to discover Alyx was indeed an angel and Luis the monster or vice versa. I think the point is for them to realize Alyx was a human, who got scared and lost and maybe even gave in to her worst instinct to survive. Only if they learn to empathize with people like Alyx, like Neo, like Mercury they can be true heroes. Only if they do it, they can save Cinder and understand Salem.

When it comes to their personal arcs, Alyx's story clearly puts them in front of a choice:

Either return to Remnant, accept their pain, but also aknowledge how it changed them (what Oscar says)

Or keep on running from themselves, forget everything and be undone (what Ozpin says)

This is true for Ruby and Jaune especially. As for now, our 2 leaders have come up with opposite answers to this problem. Both wrong.

Jaune refuses change, while Ruby sees change as destrction. Jaune wants to write the perfect story where he is the hero who saves his friends. He has been preparing for years for this moment (look at it going completely wrong). Ruby is seriously thinking about erasing herself from the narrative:

Jaune: I think Alux traded him to the tree in order to leave. And then she wrote him out of the story.

Jaune sees himself as nobody and wants to be a hero to feel like somebody. It is a pretty clear regression to his Beacon self:

Cinder to Jaune: Who are you again?

Ruby is a Hero, a Huntress, a Symbol, who wants to stop being that. She wants to become nobody:

Past Weiss: The Schnee name. Why bother, anymore? What even stands for now? Instead, you could be a nobody. Could you imagine? Not even a single bit of baggage on your shoulders. Isn’t that what you want? To be free?

(Yes, again Ruby, Jaune and Weiss are all tangled up in a strong thematic topic called "identity)

MISCELLANIA

Some miscellania thoughts

I liked Ruby being compared to Ironwood. Ruby and Ironwood's foiling is a strong one, which the fandom often dismisses to defend one or the other. Still, Ruby being right and Ironwood wrong is not the point. The point is Ruby is very very very similar to Ironwood and she risks to turn out like him, if she doesn't overcome her flaws.

When Penny tells Jaune there is no more time, Jaune remarks Weiss will give them time. I wonder if it might hint to Weiss's role in helping Jaune (and Ruby) with his predicament. Unrelated, but I wonder if we will ever get the time glyphs back.

I think CC is neithe good nor bad, they simply have a different way of thinking than humans. Meta-narratively, they are the reader, who wants more. New stories, new characters, old ones are boring and can be replaced! Thematically, they are the cycle of life and death (like the Gods) > hence The Cat rules in the Ever After.

I wonder if the CC will joing forces with Neo, now. It would be definately interesting.

The CC's reaction to Ruby and the Herbalist is still pretty strong and has definately an emotional component. I wonder if it is because Alyx changed after meeting the Herbalist and is worried something similar might happen to Ruby, as well.

All in all a great episode :)

#rwby #rwby volume 9 #rwby spoilers #rwby meta #bumbleby #blake belladonna #yang xiaolong #ruby rose #weiss schnee #jaune arc #curious cat #alyx #my meta

[yandere-fics]

♡ Nora's Sister Darling Is Pent Up ♡

If you were being completely honest, you hated Nora, sure she used to be the person you looked up to more than anything bu she'd ruined that when she'd been doomed to immortality and had begged the monster who did it to her, to make you immortal as well so she wouldn't have to watch you die. She didn't know you knew she was at fault for your immortality, acting so innocent about how it was just an awful thing that happened to the both of you but you despised her and so you left to live elsewhere in the city, constantly keeping your head down so she wouldn't be able to find you but despite her not being aware of where you lived, lest she come to make you you were well taken care for every single day, she still always had your phone number on hand.

Leading you to today, good vibrators were hard to come by in the city, the wealthiest supernaturals would hog them all to use on their lovers thus there was a waiting list at the company, your first one you'd get instantly, any more after that and you'd have to wait a year, you had put yourself on the waiting list, you didn't need one now but it was a precautionary measure, never hurt to have back up when they were so hard to come by and you had the money for it. Unfortunately for you, yours broke a month into owning it, you were left almost a full year away from having one again and that made you want to cry just a bit, you'd been miserable for centuries of immortality and you finally had a small taste of full bliss, since you couldn't date due to booth being immortal and having a sister who might kill anyone you went out with. Sure she acted like she was your sweet gentle sister but you knew she wasn't you could always see behind her eyes was the desire to chain you to her which you supposed is why she did what she did.

Anyways you were sitting there whining about your terrible fate when she called you to see if you were doing okay today, if maybe you'd be okay finally spending time with her today instead of hiding yourself away from her, if maybe you could finally tell her what she did so wrong for you to avoid her for all these centuries. You never let her know the facade was blown, you didn't know what she'd do if she knew the act was pointless now. She kept fretting over how upset you sounded until you blew up and told her the problem which lead to a long pause followed by her telling you to give her an hour, she'd be right over.

Nora was a sweaty mess when she arrived at your door with a bag full of dildos in tow, unlocking the door with a key she'd made herself, much to your shock and horror. You guessed she assumed you knew she knew where you lived already because she acted so casually about it like she hadn't done a single thing wrong.

"What? I have to have an emergency key, I need one to be a good big sister to you." She set the bag down on my kitchen table and started to take the vibrators and dildos out of their boxes to show them to you. "I took out some favors for you cause I wanted to take care of you. Enjoy!"

She gave you a kiss on the forehead and left, she'd be back later though, now that she knew you needed that sort of thing, she'd make sure those toys eventually became obsolete once you were aware your big sister could take care of you much better, she was going to be such a great girlfriend once she finally got you used to opening up about more intimate things with her.

#yandere oc #yandere lesbian #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere scenarios #my oc nora #tw.incest

[v3nusxsky]

hello

So do you know that one request about lady lesso and a smut male reader, yes I do know you don't write about male reader(I'm not the same person)

But bottoming lesso sounded absolutely delicious, think you can do a lady lesso x female reader( reader has strap)for um, everyone😅

Sub in disguise 18+

*Authors note~I love these prompts and couldn't help but combine them. I hope that's okay with both anons. And I hope you all enjoy*

Trigger warnings~bum slap, mommy kink strap on fingering oral dom r sub l

Prompt~ see ask^^^^

+

Tumblr anon~ r slapping Leonora's bum

Lesso, truly had no business walking around in that suit with those god damn chains that drove you wild, looking like a whole snack. No it wasn't fair at all, how were you meant to focus when all her assets were being beautifully displayed. It was almost impossible to keep your hands off her while in working hours. Almost. But you weren't immune to her at all, you had times where you would slip up, forget where you are. And you'd tease your lover, delighting in the blush that would appear, even for a second.

That was how you found your eyes glued to her ass as she paced the halls. Truly, it wasn't your fault that you couldn't stop yourself. As you walked past your girlfriend you couldn't stop your right hand from slapping against her ass. The little growl you received was everything you wanted. Making your way to her office knowing damn well she'd follow you.

And you were right. She did just that. "What the hell was that!" She growled, stalking towards you as if you were live prey. Any other day you would've given in and submitted to her easily. But that wasn't today. You immediately strutted forward to hold her chin and dominate the kiss. You expected a fight, you expected her to attempt to subdue your attempt but no she didn't, just moaning happily into the kiss you were providing. That allowed you to use the moment to walk her back so her back would hit the wall.

A smirk graced your lips at the little strangled sound left her throat to be swallowed by you. Hands groped each others bodies before settling on her ass once more.  "Fuck Nora, this ass is too much god I want you" you murmured against her lips. With a quick nip to her bottom lip, you happily pulled her from the office to the bedroom that was adjacent to the office. Clothes were stripped off on the little journey there, thrown haphazardly around the rooms. Leonora stood bare in front of you while you remained in a bra and underwear with your strap now visible.

"Mommy" she whimpered looking over your body, eyes lingering between your legs. "Oh look at how the big scary dean of evil turns into a pathetic slut at the sight of mommy" you taunted helping her settle back on the bed before showering her with kisses. The little gasp she let free at the feel of your mouth around her pert bud while your other hand palmed at her other breast.

You'd lost count how long you spent worshipping her breasts until she was begging and pleading with you needing something, anything just more. Her hands found your hair urging your head to go downward. You obliged happily, trailing your lips over her body before finding her soaked cunt. The moment you teased her bundle of nerves with the tip of your tongue, her hips bucked upwards in desperate need. "Mommy!" She whimpered as you began to tongue fuck your lover. The happy moans you released, sent vibrations to her sensitive folds.

"More" she mewled as you sucked on her clit. Carefully, you slipped two fingers into her dripping hole, and the moment you began to move them in a scissoring motion, stretching out her pussy. "Please please please mommy" she mewled teetering on the edge of bliss. "Cum baby" was all you offered as you curled your fingers upwards to hit that spot that drove Leonora crazy every single time you did it.

You barely gave her enough to breathe after being sure that she had rode out every single aftershock she possibly could. "Mommy inside" she whimpered staring at where the strap sat. "Pretty whore begging. Bet you didn't even realise you started calling me mommy?" The poor little red head looked embarrassed for all of two seconds before her eyes caught sight of your hand rubbing the faux cock, coating it with plenty of lube. Even going as far to tease her by slapping the dick against her cunt. "Oh fuck me please god mommy" she is whimpered causing you to lose your restraint and slip into her core.

Any frustration you felt at her outfit was now taken out on her sensitive core. "Fuck Nora, feel so good, taking all of my thick dick like a common slut. Fuck wanna fuck you till you can't walk no more. Want you begging mommy to stop" you murmured as you found a pattern that was almost punishing. "Take it baby, fuck your whorish cunt keeps dragging me in deeper" you panted. "Mommy mommy please" she whimpered. "Wanna cum?" You teased as she nodded eagerly.

"Admit your a submissive bitch" you growled watching the hesitation flashed through her eyes, "admit what you are whore!" "Fuck I'm submissive bitch! Just your whore please fucking let me cum I'll be good" she practically screamed as you brought your hand down to rub tight circles on her aching clit. "Cum" was all you offered continuing to pound into her her pussy over and over as she came all over your dick. "Oh fuck baby god fucking suffocating me" you murmured before finally allowing yourself to cum alongside her.

Only when you were both fully satisfied did you slip out of her cunt. "You did so good for me baby" you murmured kissing her all over her face. "My pretty submissive" you murmured happily to her. "Fuck my love, what on earth got into you" she mumbled back to you. "It's that god damn outfit and your ass" you muttered before coming to snuggle with her after removing your strap.

Word count~ 1050

#anon answered #v3nusxsky answers #fanfic #lady lesso #sfgae #leonora lesso #lady lesso x reader #lesso x reader #lady leonora lesso #lesso smutt #leonora lesso x reader #lady lesso x you #lesso x reader smut #dean of evil #anon requested

[choicesjanuary2024]

MASTERLIST || WELCOME || PROMPTS || RULES || HOST

Listed in alphabetical order by artist name. If I missed adding one on this list, or missed reblogging, please let me know.

@aallotarenunelma

Chronicles of a Crimson Summer 11 (ID Fic & Edit, Cas x MC)

Songs that describe my pairings (ID & It Lives Songs)

@dutifullynuttywitch

Starlit night (WtD Fic, Troy x MC)

@inlocusmads

chosen family (CoP Fic, Trystan)

hello, goodbye ~ jimmy rose (CoP Fic, Jimmy)

laplace’s angel (CoP Fic, Trystan x MC)

meeting at a crosswalk (CoP Fic, Trystan x MC)

slam poetry (MAH Fic, Stevie x MC)

@jerzwriter

A Different Fate - Final Chapter (OPH Fic, Ethan x MC)

A Little Mess (OPH Edit, Tobias x MC)

A New Perspective (OPH Fic, Tobias x MC)

A Tipsy Winter Tale (CoP Fic, Trystan x MC)

Clucking Amazing (OPH Edit, Ethan x MC)

Different Destinations (OPH Fic, Tobias x MC)

If the hat fits… (CoP Fic & Art Commission, Trystan x MC)

It Always Starts Somewhere…. (CoP Fic, Trystan x MC)

Pen-sive (OPH Fic, Ethan x MC)

Pietro & Azul (OPH Fic, Tobias x MC)

Stress Reduction (OPH Fic, Tobias x MC)

The Morning (WtD Fic, Eli x MC)

Trystan’s 2023 Holiday Recap (CoP Edit, Trystan x MC)

Twenty-Five (WTD Fic, Troy & MC)

@ladylamrian

A Prince for the Holidays (Blades Fic, Aerin x MC)

His Barbie, Her Ken (Nightbound Fic, Nik x MC)

Loyal to be Royal (Nightbound Fic, Nik x MC, Garrus x MC)

@liaromancewriter

Daddy’s Girl (OPH Fic, Ethan x MC)

Making It Work (OPH Edit, Ethan x MC)

Miami Nights: Before and After (OPH Edit, Ethan x MC)

New Year Wishes (OPH Fic, Ethan x MC)

Whatever It Takes (OPH Edit, Ethan x MC)

@lilyoffandoms

Alex as the Winter Princess (Nightbound Art, MC)

Aerin x Raine (Blades Art, Aerin x MC)

Aerin x Raine (Blades Art, Aerin x MC)

Ash Clark (ILITW Art, OC)

Captain Pandrosion Elara (AtV Art, Sol, Meridian, Kepler, MC)

Casey MacTavish (OPH Art, MC)

Coffee Date(s) (CoP Art, Trystan x MC)

Detective Lilah Rose (CoP Art, MC)

Ethan (OPH Art)

Gabriel Rose (CoP Art)

Imtura Tal Kaelen (Blades)

Inspired by Mal x Daenarya (Blades Art, Mal x OC)

Kajsiab (Alpha Art, MC)

Kieran (TCH Art)

Lancelot x Guinevere Silhouette (Guinevere Art, Lancelot x MC)

Leaf, King of Birds (TCH Art)

Lilah Rose (CoP Art, MC)

Luca O'Rinn (ID MC)

Mal Volari (Blades Art)

Marianna Howard (Desire and Decorum Fanart, OC)

Nia Ellarious (Blades Art)

Nora Rose (CoP Art, MC)

Sabastyan Thorne Case File (CoP Art)

Saini Rusanen (ID Art, MC)

Tatum x Aubrey (FA Art, Tatum x MC)

Together We Win (Blades Art, MC)

Trystan (CoP Art)

Tyril Starfury (Blades Art)

Wallace (Blades Art)

@lovealexhunt

Happy New Year (RCD Fic & Art Commission, Thomas x MC)

Helios - Emma’s Arylu (TE Art, Familiar)

#plantlove (OPH Fic, Bryce x OC)

Post Christmas Bliss (RCD Art Commission, Thomas x MC)

Spread Joy #841 (Blades Edit, Mal)

Tuneless Wonders (TE, Fic & Art Commission)

Valax (Blades Art)

@peonyblossom

Hades of House Nightbloom (Blades Art Commission, MC)

I Wasn’t Built For Iceland (AME Fic, Carson x MC)

We’ll Figure It Out (Untamable Fic, Kit x MC)

@stars-are-within-me

In Her Arms (CoP Fic, Vasili, Juliana)

The Skies (Blades Fic, Imtura, Ventra)

@tess-liam

Turning the Page (TRR Fic, Liam x OC)

@thosehallowedhalls

A 2AM Christmas Tree Farm [1/2] (CoP Fic, Trystan x MC)

Babysitting the Demonic Duo (CoP Fic, Trystan x MC)

Home without - Part One (CoP Fic, Trystan x MC)

Progression (CoP Fic, Trystan x MC)

Tabloids, or a story in 5 headlines (CoP Fic, Trystan x Emma)

#playchoices #choicesjanuary #choicesjanuary2024 #choices monthly challenge #masterlist

[howlingday]

dumb idea 2, nora dies for a pancake… she comes back a week later telling jaune that he has to play a poker game against god or else they will both die (in nora's case again), jaune tries to lose but the lady of fortune shouts: (I didn't keep you alive so you would surrender to that bitch (the god of light)).

So, it turns out that The Brothers were not the first gods to enter Remnant, nor were they the last. Before them, the Tree sent an avatar of itself into the wild, unshaped world and molded the mountains and hills and seas and then judged them on their perfection. After such time, The Judge, as he was named, then took it upon himself to rest. When the Brothers entered, he guided them into their creation of all things to fill his world. When the Brothers created humans and faunus, he then took it upon himself to allow them to judge their own works, and again, he rested. When he awoke, all of it was destroyed. Angered, he forced them to undo their mistake, though they also took it upon themselves to curse two mortals. This was fair, once told how the conflict came to be. Now The Judge waits silently in The Brothers place, choosing who passes into blissful paradise or returns as the Grimm. Oh, yeah, the Grimm are made of dead people, in case you didn't know.

Why am I telling you this? Well...

My friend, Nora, died choking on the world's largest pancake. Turns out maple syrup doesn't make for a good lubricant. Having said this, she came back into the world of the living, making her funeral a pending waste of lien and dragging ME to the afterlife to challenge The Judge to a final battle for the fate of all of Remnant. Yeah. ALL of Remnant. How'd that happen? The same way I got into this mess: Nora being Nora. Naturally, fighting an ancient deity capable of creating and destroying anything they desired made for a swift end for me... A hundred times. Because The Judge has spectators, and one of them is The Brother of Light's ex, The Fortune. She keeps bringing me back, saying "No yet! Not until I can shove this in his smug face!"

Nora is also there, giving her ideas, and making my life a living hell. I'm going to be here a while, so I hope I'm not missing anything big or important back home.

#rwby #jaune arc #nora valkyrie #my answers #the judge #the fortune #the brother of light #the brother of darkness #rwby au