#not at all close enough with any of them so i had to hold it carefully in the car (good that both my parents were there so i was hidden in

[euthymiya]

I GIVE YOU MYSELF — AVENTURINE (KAKAVASHA)

contents: female reader, implied sexual activity (but no explicit content), post coital conversations, hints at aventurine’s past, he tells reader his name for the first time, he is implied to return after penacony

aventurine is quiet after sex. which is a stark contrast to his usual self—he’s not quiet a lot of the time. he fills the silence with smooth talk and sweet drawls and overly loaded words to make up for the empty shell underneath. but after sex, he’s quiet. unresponsive, even. you think he’s hardly registering the rake of your nails across his scalp as you play with his hair.

his eyes are closed, fluttered shut as his head lays on your chest. a shame, you think, his eyes are far too beautiful to hide away like that, even for the sake of rest.

you know he doesn’t see them that way—but it’s not like he can be blamed. the world has always seen his eyes as less than what they truly are, and it’s only natural he takes to hiding them. typically, it’s behind those glasses of his, and you mourn the beauty of the ring of blue in his pupils as soon as the lens covers them up.

“cat got your tongue?” you murmur finally, breaking the silence and flicking the middle of his forehead affectionately. he blinks, snapping out of his trance as he peers up at you before throwing that lopsided grin on his face again.

it’s almost too easy—plastering on such a mask.

“well, if you want me to fill the silence i can certainly think of a method or two,” he winks, “just say the word.”

“haven’t you already gotten enough,” you raise an amused eyebrow as he chuckles. “don’t test your luck.”

“i always test my luck, sweetheart,” he grins, “it works doesn’t it?”

you haven’t seen him in weeks. six and a half, to be exact. forty-six days. one thousand, one hundred and fifty hours. he leaves in the morning, the last time you see him—you plant that hat of his on his head yourself as you kiss him goodbye.

i’ll be back soon, he told you.

don’t keep me waiting, you murmured between gentle pecks along his jaw.

his hand had quivered a bit in your grasp before he left, you couldn’t help but think at the time.

but he’s different somehow, now that he’s returned. you’re not sure how or why, but something about him is different. perhaps it’s the way he claimed your lips tonight, far more taking and far more confident than he’s ever allowed himself to be. like he deserves to be able to take (he does) and deserves to have someone give (you’ll always give). his hands are more daring with the way they explore you, mapping along the ridges and curves of your supple skin in ways he never indulged before.

perhaps, if you had to put a label on it, tonight it wasn’t sex. perhaps tonight, it was love you made. not that you’ve never loved him before this—you’ve loved him for quite a while now. but this time, he allows himself to love you. freely, that is.

you still don’t know his name. not properly, anyway. you’re certain he wasn’t introduced to this world as aventurine—but it’s all he’s ever given you, so you adopt the title baby. it’s easier that way, to feel like a real couple. a normal one.

come back safe, baby. how was your day, baby? goodnight, baby. i’ll see you when you come back, baby.

it’s all you know how to say. one day, if you’re patient enough and love him carefully, he might tell you his given name. you hold onto hope for that—but you’ll love him even if he doesn’t.

“and where have you been all these weeks,” you scold lightly. there’s hardly any hurt in your voice, though he can make out the lingering worry. “you left me to wonder if you were dead, baby.”

there it is again—baby. the word could practically be his name at this point, not a title of affection or a testament of your endearment. at this point, it almost feels like that’s who he is. baby. your baby.

something about it feels so wonderfully natural.

he’s silent for a moment before he murmurs, “kakavasha.”

“hm?” you furrow your eyebrows, scrunching them in confusion. “come again?”

“that’s my name,” he says quietly, “i…you can call me kakavasha.”

“kakavasha,” you test the name on your tongue, feeling him tense for a moment before he relaxes as soon as your fingers soothe through in his hair. you smile, grinning ear to ear as you repeat, “kakavasha. what a precious name. you’ve hid it for so long, you devious thing.”

he wrinkles his nose as you poke the tip, earning a giggle from you.

“i had to,” he whispers, nibbling on the tip of your finger.

i’m sorry, he wants to say.

you know bits and pieces of aventurine—kakavasha. those precious little sigonian eyes and that dreadful carving on the skin of his neck hint at enough. he doesn’t tell you, but something’s are easier to leave unsaid, letting the pieces fall slowly into place without the harsh breeze of bitter words. perhaps you’d always known that the man you love was never yours first, that he was always the property of someone else before you, before himself.

but something’s changed. kakavasha comes home different. he gives himself to you, by name and by body, by touch and feel and intimacy in ways he never could before. he gives himself away to you instead of keeping himself locked away.

you’ll keep him safe, you think. for a man who’s never truly had himself to hand you the pieces so easily, so hopefully, you couldn’t bear to let him down.

“kakavasha is beautiful,” you murmur, cupping his cheeks, lifting his head enough to plant a careful kiss to his lips. they quirk into a dazzling smile—not a plastered mask this time, but the real thing.

and a beautiful thing it is, his smile. laced with childlike glee and innocence that the world stripped away all too soon.

“i like baby better,” he says smoothly, “don’t you think it fits more?”

“i think fool fits you best if you really want my opinion,” you tease. (he pouts at that, and you know it’s only for the sake of getting another kiss pressed to his curled lips.)

“i won’t be asking for your opinion again,” he grumbles.

“but baby,” you drawl, scattering pecks along his cheeks and forehead, “don’t be like that. i was only teasing.”

he taps his cheek expectantly, waiting for another kiss, and of course, you oblige through a fit of delighted giggles. who are you to deny him, after all? after he’s been denied of so much already.

“i’ll stay this time,” he murmurs after some time (when he’s thoroughly satisfied demanding your unwavering affections), laying against your chest once more, “i won’t have to leave anymore.”

they won’t make me go.

“good,” you whisper, fingers tracing shapes into his bare back, suspiciously close to letters that spell kakavasha along his skin. he shivers under your touch, leaning impossibly closer. “you’re all mine now, then.”

“all yours,” he confirms. and finally, he can mean it.

i am so excited for his banner you guys don’t even know. if i don’t get him i’m going to eat a rattlesnake

#writing tag #aventurine x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #kakavasha x reader #aventurine x you #hsr x you #honkai star rail x you #kakavasha x you #aventurine fluff #hsr fluff #honkai star rail fluff #kakavasha fluff

[rafecameroninterlude]

can you do like a spin off to the fic you did where rafe went to the strip club, and instead of them making up y/n stands on business and leaves 😭? thank you if you do i love your writing smmm

based off of this request

warnings: angst, cheating

a/n: i heard y’all loud and clear, i hope you guys like this version just as much, if not more <3

“fuck, they don’t make them like this on figure eight.” you watched with watery eyes as rafe’s hands roamed the body of a stranger, his friends hollering in the background. seeing rafe receive a lap dance should’ve been enough for you to click out of instagram and call it quits, but you couldn’t help yourself in watching the rest of kelce’s stories. after skimming through the rest of the photos and videos, you didn’t have any tears left in you to cry.

getting up on shaky legs, you took everything you could fit in a suitcase, ignoring the calls from rafe as you went around your shared bedroom, grabbing your things. just as you were taking your last bag downstairs, the front door opened, revealing the last person you wanted to face right now. “what’s all of this?” your head shot up at the voice, your lips swollen from biting on them so hard. “what’s wrong?” he moved close, making you back away.

“please don’t touch me.” your voice came out weak. rafe scoffed, blinking rapidly as you took a seat on the couch, holding your head in your hands. “what’s wrong with you? why do you have all your shit down here?” he kneeled in front of you, the smell of cheap perfume filling your senses. “you should probably remind your friends to hide me from their story ‘next time you want to let someone put their boobs in your face.” you sniffled, avoiding his gaze.

rafe sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before he reached for your arm. “baby, please, i can explain everything.” you smiled, shaking your head. “you don’t have to. i really don’t care anymore, i’m leaving.” he narrowed his eyes at you, stumbling over his next words. “w-what the fuck are you talking about?” he grabbed two of your bags, about to take them upstairs before you stopped him. “this isn’t the first time you’ve been unfaithful, rafe, and if i don’t leave right now, it won’t be the last.” your voice cracked.

he shook his head, jogging upstairs, only to see you had cleared everything that belonged to you. rafe’s heart dropped, it looked like you had never been here to begin with. panic settled in his gut. “you can’t leave, i won’t let you.” he came back down, his eyes filled with guilt. “i already have a car on the way.” rafe shouted, punching the air. “y/n, i’m begging you baby, please let’s just go to bed-” you watched him cry, and for the first time you felt nothing. “we’ll forget all about this in the morning, alright? i’ll take you somewhere nice for breakfast, we could spend the day on the druthers the way that you like.” by the way he was talking, it sounded like he was reassuring himself more than you.

“and sweep it under the rug just like the last few times? no.” you laughed bitterly. “you cheat and time and time again i don’t do anything about it. i’m so tired, rafe. ‘tired of hearing the women at the country club call me ‘dumb and clueless’, i’m tired of everyone giving me pitiful looks everytime we walk inside a room.. i’m tired of not being valued.” you looked down at your hand, removing the promise ring that clearly didn’t mean anything.

“hey, hey, come on,” he pulled you up, “i value you, you know i do. i get you everything you want, goddamit, i take care of you!” you flinched at the volume of his voice. “i could get myself whatever i want rafe. all i’ve ever wanted was for you to be faithful, and you can’t even do that.” he watched as you glanced outside. “my ride is here.” he blinked, everything hitting him all at once. “y/n, stop.” he held you in place, not allowing you to move until you shoved him.

“there’s someone out there who is going to love me, and care about my feelings in all situations, someone who isn’t selfish.” you started rolling your suitcase out of the house, rafe following closely behind. “please don’t leave!” he ran his fingers through his hair. he begged and begged until you had the very last bag. “i hope one day you meet someone like yourself, fall in love with them, and see that no matter what you do, it will never be enough.” he watched you get into the black suv, feeling nothing but despair as the car drove away.

#‧₊˚✩彡 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒 #outer banks #rafe outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks smut #rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron blurb #outer banks netflix #rafe cameron headcanons #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron imagine #rafe edit #rafe fluff #rafe x you #rafe fanfiction #rafe smut #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #rafe fic #rafe obx #outerbanks rafe #drew starkey #aesthetic

[woso-dreamzzz]

Duck on a String

Jessie Fleming x Child!Reader

Summary: Jessie isn't at training

Jessie was missing.

Okay, well, that was a bit of an exaggeration. She wasn't missing in the sense that the police had to be called but she was definitely missing from training.

She hadn't texted or let any of the team know why but Emma and the other staff hadn't seemed to mind. Regardless though, it was enough for Magda to drag Pernille and Niamh to Jessie's door despite their complaining.

The curtains are closed so Magda can't nose around through the windows so she knocks on the front door.

There's no answer.

She knocks again.

"Maybe she's not in," Niamh says, shoving her hands into her pockets," Can we leave now? I'm hungry."

Magda knocks again, harder this time.

"She's probably sick," Pernille says," She might be napping, Magda. We don't want to-"

The door creaks open.

Magda expects Jessie. Maybe Jessie in her pyjamas or with major bedhead, all red and feverish.

Instead, she gets you.

You're kneeling on the top of the entrance hall table that Jessie uses to put her keys on. You're absolutely tiny and there's no way you could have unlocked the chain lock without it.

Magda expected a sick Jessie.

Instead she gets a sick you.

You're still sitting on the table with wide eyes. Your cheeks are all red and even from the distance, Magda can feel the fever raging through you.

Despite this, you look absolutely adorable, dressed simply in a little duckling shirt and shorts.

"Er..." Magda's at a loss for words and it's clear that Pernille and Niamh are shocked too.

"Hi, sweetheart," Pernille coos at you," Do we have the right house? Is Jessie Fleming here?"

You wiggle down from the table and Pernille reaches out quickly in case you fall but you seem fine.

"Mama!" You call," Mama!"

Footsteps sound and the door open furthers.

"Duckie!" Jessie scolds," What have I said about opening the door?"

"Sorry," You say before pointing at the girls in front of you," Here for you."

Jessie lays a kiss on your cheek before pushing you further into the house.

You waddle off and Niamh smothers a laugh as you pull a set of wooden ducks on a string after you.

Jessie stands in front of her teammates awkwardly. Unlike you, she's not sick. She looks perfectly fine, if a little nervous.

"What's with the kid?" Niamh asks and Jessie looks unbelievably more awkward.

"That's my Duckie," She says," She's sick."

"That explains nothing."

"I-"

There's a crash sound behind her.

"Mama! Duckies go crash!"

"Do you want to come in?" Jessie asks," It's just..." She jerks a thumb behind her.

"That would be nice, Jessie," Pernille says, guiding everyone inside.

You're sitting in the lounge when they make it inside. Your wooden ducks on a string are now sitting on their sides and you've got the biggest pout known to man on your face.

Jessie sets them right and you're off again, wandering around the room in a circle as you drag your ducks behind you.

"I adopted her," Jessie admits," Do you remember the club did that benefit for kids in foster care? Bought them new clothes and toys? I was holding a duck. She was really excited about it."

"A kid is a big step," Pernille advises, not unkindly.

"I know," Jessie says," But...But I looked at her and just knew. You know?"

"Er...not really no," Magda replies, scratching the back of her head as her eyes track your circular motions," But I trust you, Jess. She seems sweet."

The dopiest smile appears on Jessie's face. "Duckie's great. She so sweet."

You turn your head at the sound of your nickname and wander over. Your ducks come trailing after you and you keep a tight grip on their string.

"Hi, Mama!" You give her a big kiss on the cheek.

"Hi, Duckie." Jessie's still got that silly, dopey smile on her face as you give her another kiss. "Theses are my friends Magda, Pernille and Niamh."

"Hi, Magda, Pernille and Niamh!" You say before looking back at Jessie with the exact same dopey smile that she has. "Mama, my duckies say quack!"

"That's right!" Jessie says," Duckies do say quack!"

You giggle hysterically before breaking into a coughing fit that has Jessie gently rubbing you back.

"All better!" You chirp, swiping your nose with your sleeve before hopping down. You grab Niamh's hand and tug at her until she's standing, walking around with her in circles as you pull along your ducks.

"Duckie's usually shy," Jessie admits," She must like you all."

It doesn't seem like you're shy at all until the hours lag on and you grow tired. The sun has set and Jessie's made dinner for all five of you.

That's when the shyness sets in along with the fatigue that Niamh reckons comes with whatever sick bug you've got.

You don't walk in circles with your ducks on the string and you stay very firmly planted in Jessie's lap as she zips up your fluffy duckling sleepsuit.

You yawn, head slumped against Jessie's collarbone as you stare at the three football players. Mama's running her fingers through your damp hair and you really thought her friends would have been gone by the time that you had finished your bath.

You yawn again as your eyes focus on Magda and Pernille. You don't really want to go up to them but you've been having thoughts about them ever since Magda helped you with your farmyard animals puzzle when Mama was cooking.

You wiggle off Mama's lap and toddle over to them.

You take Pernille's hand and put it into Magda's.

"Love each other," You say in your sleepy haze," Forever. Date."

Magda looks up at Jessie in confusion but her teammate is already cooing over you, lifting you up into her arms. You burrow into them quickly and Jessie places a soft felt duck into your hands.

"I think it's bedtime," Mama says to you," Don't you think so?"

"Duckie go night-night," You agree.

Mama smiles. "That's right. Duckie is going night-night. Can you say goodbye to my friends?"

"Bye-bye."

Mama carries you up to bed after taking your temperature one last time. She rubs your back and gives you kisses before tucking you into your bed with your duckie bedsheets and your duckie pillows.

"Goodnight, duckie."

"Night-night, Mama."

#woso x reader #jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

[n0tamused]

A/N: This is based off of this post I saw on tiktok theorizing that BootHill must've died a brutal death for only his head to remain.

Content: angst, scramble drabble, she/her, female reader, BootHill needs comfort and he gets it, BootHill written prior to his release

“-Hey, hey, BootHill, breathe, my love-” Warm and cautious hands cup the cheeks of her loved one who sat shaking on the very corner of her bed. Hair messy and some fallen in small clumps from the struggle with his artificial body. “Shh, you’re with me.. there’s no one around, just me” she tries to soothe him again, worry rising like a bubble in her throat at her partner’s distress.

BootHill’s eyes flickered between red and gray, jumping around the room but once they were on her, they looked at something past her, through her. Even with half of his human body gone he wasn’t spared of the terrible memories and dreams. Every once in a while they’d come back to haunt him and drag him through all the suffering once again. Like once wasn’t enough. And in his scared stupor he didn’t rise from the bed before tugging his own hair and trashing the bed, even managing to hit her in the pure state of his delirium in attempts to pull off the ropes he felt in his nightmare.

Ragged breaths fan across her hands and she has to call out to him a few more times until she finally gets a response that he’s finally lucid. “Huh-? Huh..what?” He stumbles, hoping to summon strength to feel again, with his hands, Metal wraps itself around her wrist, squeezing then lessening its grip before squeezing again. “It’s okay.. it was just a dream.. See? Just breathe, come on.. do it with me”

Worry is etched deep between her brows and her frown in the dim light of the bedroom, but she manages to calm him down. But with each twitch of his body she regrets the lack of things she could do. She would’ve intertwined their fingers together, would’ve hugged him until he realized he was being held - but what use of it was it when he physically couldn’t feel touch? It was like explaining colors to a blind man. She might as well cry with BootHill.

But she has to stay strong, and patient above all else. She needs to be his rock at this moment. “Come.. let’s rest some more. We can just lay down for now” she leads him to lay down after her, moving his head despite his confused and pained grunt, setting his ear to her chest. Her hands go to his hair and she holds him there, just like that. And she feels his weight fall onto her, no longer resisting.  The thump of her heart draws him in until it becomes the center of his world. He sees darkness before his eyes, but hears the light of the heart kept away from him, safe behind her ribs.

It was an anxious thump, fastened with fear and lack of air, before easing into a smoother rhythm. BootHill didn’t realize he was shedding tears until her gentle fingers brushed over the edge of his eyes, prompting them to close. “ ‘m sorry..” he muttered, swallowing a breath before he nuzzles his head against her chest, shuffling so his artificial body followed the long lost habit of his past self in the form of hugging. Mechanical arms practically trap her under him, and she only hugs his head closer. This is the least she could do..

Hearing him cry into her chest broke her heart, feeling how her shirt became damp,  and hearing him murmuring apologies for every tear that fell tested her strength too. He felt broken and lost, in hatred of the fate he was forced into and the suffering he had to endure, and he couldn’t give up, for that would mean betraying you. He just had to keep moving. 

BootHill can’t betray the only person left that he loves, and that loves him in return. 

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

#-better an arrow than you #angst #BootHill #Boothill honkai star rail #Boothill x reader #Boothill x you #boothill x female reader #boothill x y/n #boothill x afab reader #female reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail x female reader #boothill angst #boothill imagine #hsr boothill

[delirious-donna]

The Surprise [Higuruma Hiromi]

an: it’s 2am and here I am posting this smut-filled fic because I can’t sleep and I can’t stop thinking about this man. p.s. requests are open for Higuruma specifically so drop me an ask if you wanna give me some ideas for everyone’s favourite lawyer!

pairing: Higuruma Hiromi x female reader

warnings: lingerie, pussy drunk Hiromi (it’s canon don’t fight me), multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (wrap it folks) and other goodies

Masterlist

“Will that be everything for you today?” The cheery assistant asked offering a genuine smile whilst they rang through your purchases and packed them carefully into a neat little box.

Your stomach fluttered with the thought of what might transpire this coming weekend, a long-planned weekend that couldn’t arrive quick enough. The delicate tissue paper wrapped around the items inside the box before the assistant closed it over, tied a ribbon securely and placed it in a paper bag.

“Yes, that’s it. Thank you for your help earlier, I appreciate it!”

With a bounce in your step and a sizeable dent in your bank balance, you exited the boutique store to daydream about your husband’s reaction to your little splurge. Neither of you were accustomed to dropping large sums of money so randomly, both believing that an air of caution and frugality would see you through any potential storms on the horizon, but you had walked past this store so many times and finally been tempted into their den of sinful delights.

Inclusive-sized mannequins displayed a range of differently styled lingerie, from demure bridal wear to raunchy strips of leather and wide mesh that would leave very little to the imagination. At first, you were convinced it would only be window shopping, however, when you spied an elegant-looking black bodysuit that seemed like it would hold all your bits in without compromising the sex appeal element, it was game over.

Once you were interested, the friendly young assistant swooped in and soon you were trying it on in the fancy dressing room. The lighting was complimenting rather than garishly fluorescent, and the lull of soft, sensual music added to the overall experience, one you were rather enjoying. The strapless bodysuit hugged your curves and accentuated your décolletage nicely. Clearly, it was designed by scientists to support your breasts without cumbersome straps, and you silently praised their ingenuity. Paired with crotchless fishnet tights that you could secure beneath the suit—a suggestion from your enthusiastic little helper—you knew that Hiromi would likely lose his mind and you couldn’t wait.

Your poor, overworked and perpetually exhausted husband had been burning the candle at both ends for the past nearly four months, neck deep in a case that if he were to win would be a monumental victory in his career. In support, you packed him off every morning with a full lunch consisting of his favourite foods, mostly to encourage him to actually eat instead of consuming mug after mug of rancid instant coffee. In your evenings, you helped him go over witness testimonies, read over his arguments for clarity, and did everything you could to lighten his load around the house. It wouldn’t be a permanent arrangement, you both knew that, and to say he appreciated your support was an understatement.

That’s why when he told you that it was all drawing to a conclusion and that he was cautiously optimistic it would end in his favour, you revelled in that knowledge. Whether it did come to fruition or not, his weekend would be free, and he promised to spend some real quality time with you without the cloud of looming work. There was nothing more he could do, no more past cases he could study and the thought of basking in his undivided attention warmed your heart and soul.

With two days remaining before your scheduled weekend plans to do absolutely nothing but relax and unwind in each other’s presence, you again peeked at the box you’d tucked into your side of the wardrobe, away from prying eyes. Maybe it was a bout of nerves, a moment of body consciousness, that made you pull your surprise out to examine the contents. Whatever it was, you worried your bottom lip once the intimate outfit was laid out on the bedspread.

“What was I thinking… this is too much,” you quietly scolded yourself.

Flopping beside the expensive scraps of fabric, you brushed a palm down your face and reminded yourself that you looked fucking divine in the changing room of the boutique, so why would it be any different now? More so, you knew deep in your heart that Hiromi adored you and thought you were a goddess, one he claimed he didn’t deserve.

A few moments later, you stood in front of the mirrored wardrobe to scrutinise your reflection. Your eyes narrowed as you tugged the sweetheart cups into place and felt the soft squish of your breast jiggle inside. Turning to the side, a hand ran the length of your torso with a grin unfurling at the tight hug of the sheer-panelled fabric. Damn, your backside looked real good from this angle. But maybe the fishnets were too much, you mused, turning this way and that.

You ran your fingers through your hair, wondering if you should try to style it, maybe give it some more volume and texture. It was at that moment, whilst making kissy faces at your reflection with your hands scrunching handfuls of your hair and up on your tippy toes to extend the length of your legs, that the bedroom door opened, and you froze like a deer in headlights.

~

Higuruma Hiromi was on cloud nine. Not only had he won a career-defining case against all the odds, but the judge had also taken less time to deliberate than anyone expected they would. After a hearty swig of celebratory champagne drank from crappy paper cups with his partner and their secretaries, he was on the first train home to truly celebrate with the only person that mattered—you.

What he didn’t expect to find when he entered the house as stealthily as he could manage was the vision of you standing in the middle of the bedroom looking like one of the pin-up models from the magazines he would hide under his mattress as a young man.

Like a slightly tipsy house cat, he tiptoed his way through the rooms, listening for signs of you and driving straight towards the bedroom to surprise you with his unannounced return. The door bounced open on its hinges and he stood, shell-shocked for a moment before it turned to white-hot appreciation.

You looked beautiful, stunning, breathtaking even. There weren’t enough colourful adjectives for how he felt about you at any given time, but right now, modelling a black bodysuit that hugged both your butt and your breasts, he was entirely dumbstruck. Hiromi didn’t know where to look, or whether you’d rather he look away given your strangled yelp of surprise at his sudden appearance. You made no effort to cover yourself or shove him out the door, no, you both faced one another as if neither of you knew what to do or say.

His eyes continued to betray him, slowly caressing the length of your figure and finding new things to appreciate; the sweetheart cups, the gauzy panels that allowed him glimpses of your skin beneath, and not to mention the fishnet tights. He hadn’t seen you wear anything like those since your dating years, and he had forgotten how much he missed them, or how many he had ruined by ripping through the gusset in his haste.

“What are you doing home?” You glanced at the alarm clock on the bedside table and back to your husband, heat filling your face but something else followed on the tails of your embarrassment, something more pleasant.

Hiromi ran this thumb over his mouth, gaze pointedly fixed on your chest, and you cleared your throat with emphasis until he finally met your eye and the arch of your eyebrow. Already his neck looked red, like a rash had spread from below the collar of his shirt and travelled towards his jaw. If you could describe a person as having hearts for eyes, it would be one Higuruma Hiromi and you adored him for his open adoration.

“We… I won,” he managed weakly, smiling as if coming out of a daze and you blinked for a moment while processing the words.

“You won?”

He chuckled. “I won.”

A wealth of emotions passed over your face until you ended with ecstatic pride, tears near pricking your eyes as you launched yourself into his arms and peppered his cheeks and nose with enough kisses to make him blush more furiously. His hands settled on your hips, his touch more hesitant than you would expect given the circumstances and you pulled back to give him a questioning look.

“What’s wrong? I thought you’d be more excited than this.”

“Darling…” he started, skimming his fingertips up and down your sides before rounding to your full backside and squeezing as he spoke. “What’s this?”

In your joy, you had forgotten that Hiromi had walked in on you wearing the lingerie that was meant to be for this weekend and meant to be a surprise. You guessed it still had been, although not the one you planned. “Oh, just a little something to show my hardworking man that I love and adore him. Nothing much.”

“Nothing much…” he repeated in a disbelieving whisper. A finger ran the length of your spine, from the top of your backside to near the base of your skull, dragging it slowly and watching you shudder beneath his deliberate touch. Your shoulder blades shifted, pushing your chest out further and into his, which earned you a groan of appreciation.

“I wouldn’t call this nothing much. You look like a wet dream come to life.”

He walked you backwards, the scent of champagne hot on his breath and your stomach curled into a mass of twisted anticipation—heavy in the depths of your belly. Your thighs crashed into the edge of the bed and Hiromi used your moment of imbalance to shove you atop, quickly shucking out of his jacket and crawling over you.

“Hiromi,” you squeaked between peals of laughter. The man in question only hummed in response, his hooded eyes heavy with nothing that spoke of fatigue. The whisky colour of his eyes appeared blown almost completely black by the dilation of his pupils, and he licked over his lips in what looked like anticipation of a hearty meal.

That meal was you…

Any protest you might have offered died in your throat when he claimed your mouth like a man possessed. His tongue curled over your teeth, pushing the memory of champagne into the space he dominated and greedily swallowing your answering moan. His forearms bracketed your head, keeping you caged and unable to run from him, not that you had any desire to, not when you could feel the press of his cock thickening against your lower half.

Loosening the knot of his tie with one finger, you took the moment to grab fistfuls of the shirt at his back, tugging the tails out of his trousers and sliding your palms beneath the starched surface to scratch along his spine. Hiromi shuddered, the disconnect of your lips an audible pop that left a web of saliva between you, only breaking with a quick swipe of your pink tongue.

“I don’t even have my make-up or hair done, you beast!” The half-hearted protest fell on deaf ears, or so you thought when his mouth moved to your neck and down to your collarbone, sucking little blooming lovebites on his journey. When he reached the abundant swell of your breasts, he glanced up whilst his tongue pathed across the top of your left breast, dipping into the valley between and then resuming the path over the right.

“You think I need face paint or styled hair to love you more? Fuck, sweetheart… I nearly came in my briefs the minute I opened the door.” The length of his aquiline nose nudged between your breasts, nuzzling the soft mounds like a cat warming by the fire. Carding your fingers through his hair, you wriggled beneath him and let out a breathy sigh, the weight and conviction of his love settling over you in perfect comfort. There would be no more argument from you, and Hiromi won for the second time that day.

With methodical slowness he kissed his way down your body, stopping to lave the sheer panels at either side of your abdomen and forcing you to arch from the warm sensation of his eager tongue. You’d barely managed to get his shirt off his shoulders before he was exploring you like this was his first time with your body. The white button-up hung down his back, sleeves caught by his elbows, and he made no move to strip it off much to your annoyance.

He stopped abruptly when he reached your pelvic mound, chin resting there whilst his fingers trailed the arch of your foot, up the inside of your calf and tickled behind your knee. “Stop that, mister!” You scolded with laughter threatening to bubble out.

“Spread ‘em and I will,” he challenged with a smirk.

The space between your freshly parted thighs became his home, an arm wound around your hip pawing at the fat of your thigh and the line where it met your arse, eliciting shivers that rippled over your skin like a calm lake disturbed by a skimming stone. He fingered the two snaps that kept the bodysuit in place, stroking firmly over your clothed cunt and pushing the barrier deeper until it started to feel sticky from your arousal. Looking all too smug, he freed the snaps with a grunt of satisfaction, sure that his next step would be to rip through the gusset of your raunchy fishnets so he could taste you. That moment never came.

You felt the vibration shudder through your husband, his head falling forward to obscure what you could see of his face, and you rocked your hips back and forth in invitation. The cool air of the room contrasted by the hot fan of his breath on your slit made you clench around a disappointing nothing, frowning at his sudden pause.

For a long moment, there was only silence. When he looked up, his expression nearly stole your breath. Thick black eyebrows pinched together, visible strain around his drooped eyes and a throaty whine made your pussy flutter with need. This was the Hiromi that only came out to play every now and again. The one who would wring you like a wet dish towel for just one more orgasm, one more mouthful of your hot nectar.

“Crotchless, really?” he murmured, dragging a finger across your puffy folds where the thin membrane of the tights should have resided and you nearly jolted upwards to the ceiling, having forgotten that little fact in the heat of the moment.

Cupping his cheek in your palm, you gave a cheeky wink. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about all the pairs of tights you’ve ruined over the years. These were just a… precaution.” Hiromi groaned, thrusting his face into your pussy without warning. The flat of his tongue ran the length of you, making you perfectly slippery in mere seconds, only for the tip of the wet muscle to fuck into your entrance immediately.

“Oh, fuck… Hiro!”

You yanked great tufts of his hair to no avail; he was lost to eating you out like a man starved. The prominent slope of his nose slid back and forth across your bundle of nerves, and it lit up your insides like the continuous explosion of miniature firecrackers.

Whining from his sudden onslaught, you tried to run by easing up the bed, but your attempts were shot down in flames by sharp insistent tugs of your hips. Hiromi was enthusiastic at the best of times when it came to going down on you, but it was nothing compared to right now. The wet squelching sucks of his lips and tongue flooded the bedroom, only being accompanied by your decadent moans and panting breaths as you tried not to lose your sanity entirely.

Hiromi was lost in you; the scent of your favourite body wash, the taste of your arousal when it trickled from your core mixed with the slight salt of your skin, the plush silk of your thighs beneath his prodding fingertips and the unrestrained noises that caressed his ears.

He almost missed your orgasm so clouded was his mind in the quest to turn you into a puddle of liquid goo for only his consumption. The wave of it crested through the length of your body, vibrating every limb and twitching each nerve ending. Your spine arched from the unmade sheets, the hand coiled tight in Hiromi’s hair spasming and tugging without even meaning to and that’s when he noticed. Without missing a beat, he wrapped his lips around your pulsing clit and sucked it deeper into his mouth.

Stars winked into your vision at being thrust from one orgasm directly into another so violently. Your pussy fluttered ceaselessly, a craving deep in your gut to be filled at all costs, yet right now all you could do was hold on for dear life whilst you bucked and rutted against your husband’s face, wetting it thoroughly. He nosed at your quaking thigh, sharp incisors nipping your yielding flesh until you yelped and tried to close your legs without success.

You became aware of movement, the absence of shoulders beneath your thighs and you blinked to find a desperate predator stripping off his clothes whilst prowling back and forth at the foot of the bed. Hiromi grasped his cock, tugging it down to the base to spread the leaked precum that continued to dribble from his cockhead. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he had already cum, but he was always the excitable type who would leak and leak until you did something about it, usually opting to take him down your throat until he convulsed and spilt everything he had to offer.

Your hand trailed lower down your body, fingers playing in the spit-soaked mess he’d left behind in his hurry to stand and strip. Hiromi whined; head cocked to the side as he watched you play idly with your puffy lips flooded with the surge of blood and circling your pert little pearl. He fucked his fist harder, the other hand rolling his heavy balls until his stomach sucked in and your nostrils flared in warning.

“C’mere mister lawyer, I don’t want you wasting your orgasm when it could be filling me nicely.”

How quickly the tables could turn. One minute he was the predator, pawing and demanding, taking what he wanted without question, and the next he was the prey. Trapped on his back with cheeks a ruddy hue and eyes that begged for clemency. Your much small hand encased his dick, twisting your palm on each upward stroke while you straddled him and rocked yourself against the balls he’d just been palming.

His hands shook with restraint as they reached for your breasts, filling his broad palms and massaging them until you dipped low to claim his lips. You could taste yourself on his tongue, in his mouth and the sensation empowered you, fucking his throbbing cock through your folds until he twitched and whimpered some more.

“Please… fuck. Need to be inside. Might not last. God, you’re so fucking sexy. Don’t deserve you.” Hiromi babbled every syllable, sounding drunk when there was little to no alcohol left in his system.

His fingertips dipped inside the cups of your bodysuit, tweaking at your nipples and you indulged his silent request by allowing him to fold the cups down and let the spill of your tits fill his face. With renewed vigour and enthusiasm, he mouthed at you and ran his tongue in circles around your nipples one at a time.

You keened at the familiar sensation, swept away by a current of pure indulgence when he moved to suckle you. It was the perfect moment to strike, with Hiromi distracted in flicking his tongue over and over, round and round your swollen bud, you guided him to notch at your entrance and slowly sank onto his needy dick. He grunted; his grip tightening on your waist, but he refused to come up for air, continuing to nudge his nose into your breast, lips pulling the nipple taut until he finally released with a gasp.

“Fuck, I love you. I love you more than I can express.”

Hiromi worshipped you with his gaze, eyes full of devotion and unbridled passion whilst you rode him steadily. The sticky pap pap pap of your pelvis meeting his was the soundtrack to your lovemaking, because beneath the sexy lingerie and the ideas you had planned for the weekend, that’s what this was and always would be. You knew he didn’t need the extra faff to love you with his whole heart. You knew that he was aroused by you simply walking through the kitchen in a pair of his boxers.

You knew he loved you for you.

His dappled cheeks darkened further, the furrow of his brow telling of how he was trying to stave off his release, but you wanted him as undone as you had been, and you would not be denied. Leaning forward, your palms found purchase on his shoulders, breasts bouncing freely in time with your hips, and you squeezed around his shaft until the vein in his temple popped and he let out a guttural groan.

Hiromi grabbed around your middle, flipping you up and over so that he could thrust himself into overstimulation without hindrance. Pressing your thighs to your chest, you heard the telltale rip and knew that another pair of tights had fallen victim to Higuruma Hiromi despite your best efforts to keep them safe. His swollen cock pumped thick spurts of his milky cum against your cervix, filling you to the brim yet continuing to sloppily thrust in and out.

“-cum again… gotta—fuckkk. You’re so tight,” he bit through the words, fighting the steady burn of overstimulation to see you orgasm for the third time and you were close. A glob of spit landed against your clit, thick fingers shaking from exertion rubbing the frothy mess into you with insistent motions. He was a man possessed, falling apart for him was as easy as drawing breath and he caught you on your free fall.

You chanted his name in some semblance of a prayer, thrashing and clawing at anything you could reach until you milked him again and he lost the ability to hold himself up. Hiromi fell atop you, his face pressed into the juncture between your neck and shoulder, hot shuddering moans stifled by his mouth on your neck while he weakly tried to bear some of his weight onto an arm.

“Stop squirming, you’re not that heavy, Hiro,” you teased with a light slap against his back.

Once you could both speak without sounding winded, you combed your fingers through his sweat-dampened hair, moving the strands that stuck to his forehead away until you could trace his eyebrows, his jaw, and the bridge of his nose. “Y’know… you ripped my tights—again.”

Hiromi chuckled, rubbing his cheek against your chest. “I did, and I’d do it again. Maybe give them a miss if we do this again, hm?”

“You liked the surprise then?”

“I already told you that I did, not that I needed it. All I ever need is you.”

It was your turn to chuckle, booping the tip of his nose. “Maybe when I show you the receipt, you’ll change your tune.”

“… sweetheart. How much did it cost? Don’t roll away, missy! Answer my question. Hey. Hey! You have to answer the lawyer when they ask a question.”

#delirious writes #higuruma hiromi #higuruma x reader #higuruma smut #jjk higuruma #hiromi x reader #hiromi smut #higuruma hiromi x reader #higuruma hiromi smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader

[flemingsfreckles]

Physio’s Daughter pt.4

Jessie Fleming x Physio!Reader

Read the previous parts here

Warnings: a little cursing, a small bit of homophobia (it’s minor teasing by a child)

WC: 4.3k

A/N: I struggled with this part, so I do apologize for how long it took and that it’s shorter. There’s a lot of timeline jumps in this part just as a heads up. I know where the story is going to end up I’m just having a hard time making the plot to get it there.

It was Jessie’s fault your attempt at being just coworkers failed so quickly. It was only hours after you had said goodbye to her in the lobby of the training center when you received a notification on your phone.

_jessflem has requested to follow you

You smirked down at the notification. You knew she wasn’t big on social media so the follow felt intentional. You open your phone to accept her follow request and go to follow her back only to realize you already followed her. You also weren’t too keen on social media, you really didn’t have the time with school, but you found yourself in typical behavior with the other young adults your age, “stalking” Jessie’s page.

You scroll all the way to her last photo, it’s just a scenery shot. You look at it for a second before starting to scroll back up. Too frenzied with your scrolling you feel the phone vibrate in your hand slightly, the same way it vibrated if you liked a photo.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck” you stop your scrolling, starting to slowly scroll backward to see that you had just liked a photo from 2020. Four years ago. It was one of her smiling, holding a soccer ball in her Chelsea training kit. She looked adorable.

Jessie Fleming: Doing a bit of stalking, are we?

The sound of your text notification making you jump in your otherwise silent apartment. Before you can even open the first text you receive a second.

Jessie Fleming: Do you stalk all your coworkers, or just the ones you’ve kissed?

You: Hard to say, I haven’t kissed any other coworkers, maybe I’ll have to kiss some other ones and see if it leads to stalking.

Jessie Fleming: Fair

You leave her text without a response. You had both agreed to be professional, this seemed like it was going to maybe be the opposite of you kept texting her.

You close Instagram and move from your couch into the kitchen. You were excited for your next few days to be off days. You planned to essentially do nothing but sit, watch trashy TV and do anything to keep your mind from wandering and thinking about Jessie. Moving to the fridge you get out some ingredients to make yourself chicken and pasta, it was easy but it also counted as a home cooked dinner so you couldn’t complain.

In the middle of digging through your cabinets for spices you get a knock on your door. Skeptical of who it may be, you move to the door slowly, looking though the peep hole. There stood your Mom, not someone coming to murder you, well, you’re not too sure on that you think.

You open the door to see her standing with a bouquet of flowers and a brown paper bag tucked under her arm.

“Can I come in?” She wasn’t exactly the person you wanted to be seeing right now but she was your Mom, so you extended you hand to take the bag and let her in.

“Are you here to yell at me again, because I’ve honestly had enough over the past couple of days to last a lifetime, I don’t need any more.”

“Don’t be a smartass,” she gently smacks the top of your head. “I’m actually here to apologize. Do you think I’d bring snacks and drinks if I was here to yell at you?”

“Maybe you brought them to flaunt in my face while you yelled at me.”

Your Mom rolls her eyes at you and begins digging through the bag she brought. She gets out some candies that she knew you loved, some popcorn, a bottle of wine, and a 6 pack of beers.

“Is this your peace offering?” You ask as you grab the bag of sweets, opening it and popping one in your mouth.

“I don’t know if I’d consider it a peace offering just yet but I wanted to at least talk, I figured I could start making amends with snacks.”

“Okay.”

“Look, I’m not really sorry for what I said, I said it for a reason and I stand by what I said.” She lets out a breath. “But I am sorry for how I said it though. I treated you like a child, that was unprofessional, you’re an adult and should be treated that way at work at least. Unfortunately, I’m your mom, so you’ll always be my little girl. And in this circumstance I was frustrated with you as a mom and as a coworker.”

“Why were you frustrated with me as a mom?” You understood the coworker, but the thought of you disappointing your Mom hurt a bit, you hadn’t realized you had upset her as a daughter.

“I don’t know if frustrated is the word I guess. It’s just weird seeing your daughter being defiled against the wall by another person especially at work when it’s with her coworker who she told you nothing was happening with.” Your blush comes back and you look down at your drink before taking a large swing, not wanting to think about your Mom walking in on you and Jessie.

“How many times do I have to tell you she wasn’t defiling me, it was just a kiss.”

“I don’t really care what she was doing to you, the less I know the better.” You Mom holds her hands up stopping you. “I am sorry I made a scene in your office about it. That was inappropriate on my end.”

“Thank you.” You take another sip. The two of you stood in silence around your kitchen table. This was going to be a long night.

It was nearly an hour later, you were drinking through your fourth beers and your Mom was working through her third heavy pour of wine. You could tell you were both feeling the effects of the drinks and it was likely your Mom would be spending the night. You felt your phone buzz in your lap and you looked down to see Jessie’s name again.

Jessie Fleming: sorry if I made it weird with my text from before, I promise only to be professional from now on.

You feel yourself smiling at the text, something about the idea that she thought about you again to text you made you feel warm and fuzzy. Unfortunately, with the alcohol in your system you did a worse job at hiding your emotions than you thought.

“Ohhhhh, look at you smiling at your phone, let me guess is a certain Canadian captain texting you?” Your mom teases from the other side of the couch. Her foot giving your leg a tap.

“Mom please.” While you tried to deflect her comment it was obvious by your smile that she was right about who had texted you and she knew she was right. You didn’t want to have to sit here with your tipsy mother and her comments about you and Jessie. Thankfully she stays quiet for a few minutes with the two of you not speaking.

“This is maybe the wrong way to go about this, but I’m trying really hard to be your Mom, not your coworker, so, tell me about her? Pretend I don’t already know her, pretend you’re telling me about just a crush from school or something.”

“Mom, we don't have to do this.”

“Oh come on, indulge me, I miss it. I remember when you were a little girl and you would come home telling me about the pretty girls in your class, and then in fourth grade someone told you that you couldn’t find other girls pretty.” You cringe at that memory. Some boy had overheard you saying how you thought another little girl in your class was beautiful and he had told you it was gross for boys to think boys were cute and for girls to find girls cute. Unfortunately that little shit’s comments stuck with you through your whole life, impacting you heavily as a child.

“And so then you only ever came home talking about boys, but I could tell it wasn’t quite the same as how you felt toward the pretty girls. And then when you were 17 you came to me to tell me about the pretty girl you had a crush on and I was so proud of you and excited that that stupid boy didn’t change you. And then since you’ve moved out for school I got to hear snippets over the phone about dates but it’s not the same. So indulge me. Tell me about her as you would any other girl.”

“But you do know her, Mom.” Still hesitant to have this conversation about Jessie, it was easy when your Mom didn’t know the other person.

“Does she have a job? Does she have aspirations? Where’s she from?” She ignored your comment and starts firing off questions.

You let out a small giggle as you take another drink, your Mom was always one to interrogate you about girls you talked about, it was just funny the way she was pretending she didn’t know Jessie.

You fell into conversation with your Mom for a bit. She’d ask questions, pretending to be oblivious to the fact that you were talking about Jessie. You answered, the small trace of beer in your system making you care slightly less, also knowing that your Mom had had her fair share of wine.

You told her about your conversations with Jessie, ones from all the hours you two spent secluded in the training rooms. You told her about your mutual aspiration for travel, how you’d talked about school, she taught you what she learned as an engineer in school, you talked about her family, her family dogs, all the tiny details you could remember about Jessie.

The more you talked about her, the more you watched your mothers face change. Originally looking a little uncomfortable when you talked about Jessie but now she was grinning back at you.

“You actually like her don’t you?”

“Obviously.” You huff throwing your arms up.

“Well, I wasn’t sure if you just thought she was hot and you wanted to hookup with a professional athlete .”

“Mom!” You can feel your cheeks start to heat up.

You both fall into silence, your Mom finishing off her glass of wine and you staring at the ground thinking about everything you just said to your Mom.

“I forgot to say this earlier but I’m also sorry I accused you of lying to me.”

“It’s fine Mom, really don’t worry about it.”

Your Mom stands from the couch with a yawn. “Guest room made up by chance?” You nod at her. It wasn’t really a guest room, more of a den in your apartment that you had made an office with a bed in the corner.

Before she left to go to bed she moved over to you, placing her hands on your shoulders.

“Kiddo?” You cringe at the childhood nickname, looking up at her. “I’m not going to tell you to do anything with Jessie, but, you’re stubborn and I know you will. So just please, if you two decide to take your relationship anywhere, just be adults about it. Don’t let it affect work, don’t let it mess up her playing, don’t sneak around. If you want to be adults, act like it, tell the people who need to know.”

“We already talked, nothings going to happen.”

“I know you think that, but when the two of you see each other for almost 2 months straight, I think it’ll maybe be hard to keep it that way. I’d still advise you two to avoid each other as much as you can, keep it professional, that's the right choice in my eyes. But, unfortunately my more realist advice, wait until the Olympics are over when you’re no longer associated with the team and you’re back at school. You don’t want to be accused of the team’s downfall because Fleming is too busy staring off at her own trainer to make a decent pass.” With that she walks away from you, placing her glass in the sink and wandering to the den.

You knew most likely your Mom seemed to be okay with you and Jessie once you were no longer a trainer was just the wine talking and she’d go back to normal in the morning but for now you’d take it. You put your own bottle in the recycling and head into your bedroom. You consider texting back Jessie but decide against it as you plug your phone in and set an alarm for the next morning.

The next morning you wake up and make your way into the kitchen finding a note from your mom saying she left early, she loved you and she’d see you soon.

You grabbed a pan from the kitchen and opened the fridge to find eggs and started making yourself breakfast.

The sound of your phone ringing causes you to jump and let out a yelp, nearly dropping the egg you were cracking. Turning around you grab your phone, seeing Jessie’s name across the screen. You debate not answering, but maybe she needed you for work reasons, so you answer.

“Hello?”

“Should I be scared that your Mom tried to call me yesterday?”

You hadn’t expected that to be her first words. “She what?”

“Yeah, I didn’t answer, I was still trying to get home but she called me, no voicemail, no text, just a missed call. So I’m asking, is she still out for my head because of us?”

“There’s no us, but probably not? I don’t know. She showed up unexpectedly at my place last night to apologize for how she yelled at me.”

“That’s good, right?”

“I guess? I mean she’s still pretty upset, but she apologized for treating me unprofessionally. So maybe she wanted to apologize to you too, I’m not sure.”

“Oh.”

“She also asked about you.” There’s silence on the other end, you pull the phone back to check that the call hadn’t ended.

“Hello?” You stirred your eggs.

“Hi.” Jessie’s voice comes through clearly.

“Oh I thought you maybe hung up.”

“No.” There’s another pause. “What did she ask?”

“Everything I guess? She had maybe a few too many sips of wine.” You let out a small laugh. “She told me to talk to her about you as if she didn’t know you. It was something we used to do when I was a kid. I’d sit and tell her every detail about the boys or girls I liked.” You turn around to lean against the kitchen table.

“That’s sweet that she wanted to do that with you.”

“Yeah.” It’s now you leaving a long silence. “It could’ve been the wine talking but she was less mad I think, she even suggested we just wait until the Olympics are over to figure out what it is between us.”

You hear a sigh come through the phone. “I thought we agreed to be professional.”

“We did.”

“No offense but telling me that your Mom suggested we figure out something after the Olympics isn’t really professional at all, it’s only going to get in my head.” Her voice now sounding upset and frustrated.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Sorry Jessie.” You’re not sure why you’re really apologizing, all you did was tell her what she wanted to know.

“It’s fine, I gotta go.” She rushes her sentence.

With that the line went dead and you stared back at your phone you could see your reflection in the black screen. The whole conversation ran through your head again. She had seemed excited that you talked to your Mom about her, but maybe you misunderstood. Jessie’s mood had taken such a sharp negative turn at the end, when you mentioned the possibility of post Olympics.

You open your texts, and start typing.

Hey, that was weird, sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I just thought we were maybe still doing the friendly flirting given you brought up our kiss yesterday.

You erase the message. Locking your phone and turning back to see your eggs burnt, just starting to smoke.

“Shit shit shit.” You rushed over grabbing the pan and turning off the burner. Too frustrated first with Jessie’s confusing behavior and then with your ability to burn the easiest breakfast, you decide to grab a book and sit outside hoping you wouldn’t have to think about reality for a while.

The rest of your day was easy, you sat outside reading two whole books and also getting incredibly sunburnt in the process. The thought of sunscreen completely slipping your mind. You were able to not think about school, or your mom, or work, or Jessie, or the Canadian team at all.

The next three days played out the exact same, except with sunscreen this time. It was good, you genuinely got a break, from school, from work, and from life. It was great. Everything was going well, you had managed to not think about Jessie most of the day, until you went to bed and your phone notification popped up, reminding you of tomorrow’s responsibilities.

Calendar: Physio Team Meeting 8:00

Calendar: Meeting w/ J.Fleming 10:00

Calendar: Travel Paperwork Meeting 13:15

You had been excited to see her, that was until your weird shared phone call 3 days ago. It had been radio silence between the two of you since, you never texted her and she never reached out. Not that you expected her to, but it would’ve been nice to hear from her.

Your morning was quick, opting to just eat at the facilities instead of waking up early to make your own breakfast. You met your mom in the parking lot and the two of you walked into your first meeting together. It was general information for the upcoming schedule. The players were set to come back in 3 weeks for 5 days, the team would then travel to Paris to get settled before starting play later that week. It was going to be a busy 3 weeks before the team came back, everyone being given various tasks and responsibilities to oversee in the meantime. Yours as you had already been told was to keep Jessie in the loop with her teammates, as well as keeping up with her teammates themselves.

And that’s what you did at 10:00. You got onto your computer joining a call that was supposed to be you, Jessie, and Sarah, one of the other physio’s who was supposed to be the professionalism buffer. Unfortunately she had other things that took priority which left just you and Jessie.

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

“Um Sarah isn’t coming, she has some other things to take care of that we’re more important than babysitting me in this meeting.” You feel your palms sweating, wiping them on your pants.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. So we can get into it here-” you start to pull up a spreadsheet with information on each of the roster’s players. You didn’t feel like doing the small talk with her right now.

“Really quick, I wanted to apologize.” You stop messing with the document on your screen and look over to where the box with Jessie’s face was. “About that phone call, I made it weird, I think I just got a little, I don’t know, maybe overwhelmed, so I’m sorry.”

“Oh it’s fine.”

“It wasn’t fine, it wasn’t okay for me to be unprofessional when I texted you earlier and then get upset with you for doing the same.”

“Okay.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright.” It was nice that she apologized but it still didn’t provide much of an explanation as to what happened.

The rest of your meeting goes as planned, you walk through every roster member, their current status, if they’re back playing at club yet, if so how many minutes they got in matches, all the details.

“How are you? You’re the only one we haven’t gone through.”

“I’m good.”

“I need more information than that Jessie, come on.”

“I’ve been sleeping better, obviously being in my own bed not a hotel helps, I’ve been a little stressed at Portland, things just aren’t connecting there so the playing has been stressful too. But I’ve been playing full 90’ still and the calf is treating me well.”

“Thank you, I’m glad to hear about your calf.” You can’t help but smile, thinking that your work and knowledge actually helped Jessie return to playing like herself. You type in the information she tells you into your document and then save the file and close it, bringing Jessie face to fullscreen on your computer.

“Alright, I guess we’re all done here then.”

“I actually had one more thing.”

“Oh! Sorry I should’ve check if you were done. Just let me open up my file again, hang on, sorry about that.”

“No, it’s not for the file.” There’s a pause, you just look at her on the screen. She’s looking down and you’re pretty sure playing with her hands, the way she does when she’s nervous.

“Can we please be friends? I’ve been wanting to text you about books I read, or cool travel locations I’ve seen. I wanted to text you that I saw a family of deer the other day and it reminded me of you telling me about the deer in your childhood backyard. But you told me we couldn’t even be friends, so I've been respecting that. But I want to be able to tell you those things, so if there’s any way we could be friends, it can still be professional, but friendly, I’d really like that.” Her sentence is rambling and you could tell she clearly had prepared to ask you but somewhere along the lines was just saying whatever came to her head.

What caught your attention was that she thought of the small 3 sentence story you had told her days ago about your childhood backyard. The backyard where you and your mom used to watch the deer run and graze. She remembered that tiny detail that you told her. It made your heart sing that she remembered.

“We can be friends.” You say with a smile knowing in the back of your head that there would be no way you’d be able to stay just friends with the beautiful girl who was now grinning back at you.

“Yay!” It was such a sweet response, her face lighting up. “Okay I’ll see you next week, same time?”

“Yeah Jessie, thanks, I’ll see you then.” She hangs up the call. You only have a minute in your office in silence before a series of texts come in.

Jessie Fleming: since we’re friends now

Jessie Fleming: look at the deer

Jessie Fleming: 2 Images

You look at the images, one was a photo of three deer, one being a baby, all standing in tall grass, the sun a golden yellow cascading on them. The next photo was a closer shot of the fawn. The pictures looked like someone from National Geographic took them, the detail, lighting, all of it.

You: did you take those photos?

Jessie Fleming: yes

You: wow

You: maybe I’ll have to bring you along on my future travels to be the photographer

Jessie Fleming: I definitely wouldn’t mind that

That was all it took, a simple conversation and two photos of deer to start the friendship between you and Jessie. A friendship that quickly snowballed into what was flirtatious, teasing, sweet, but overall borderline inappropriate for a working relationship. But you didn’t care, it was easy. Over those next three weeks the banter and friendship with Jessie grew and grew, the late nights texting that turned into late nights on FaceTime with the older girl, it felt harmless being that you were so far away from her.

The reality of what you two had developed only set in when it was three weeks later and you were standing in the physio room as players started filing in for the first training session before traveling to Paris.

Jessie walked in, looking around before her eyes caught yours. Her face lit up and you knew yours did too. You felt butterflies in your stomach. She gives you a smile and a quick flash of a smirk as she walks in the other direction going to say hello to the other staff first. She greets them all, you patiently wait, pretending not to be watching her as you restock bandaids in a drawer. But you were, out of the corner of your eye you couldn’t help but watch her move around the room, your heart rate picking up speed as she would move closer and closer with each person she said hello to.

“I saved the best for last.” You hear her soothing voice behind you.

You turn and she’s standing in front of you arms out as she had done to the other staff. You step toward her, wrapping your arms around her waist as she wraps around your shoulders. You wonder how she smells so good for someone who just got off an airplane and a bus ride, but somehow she does.

“I’ve missed you.” Her lips are against your ear and her voice is quiet to not allow anyone else to hear.

“I missed you too.” You whisper back to her. You pull away, catching your Mom’s eye over Jessie’s shoulder. She gives you a tight lipped smile and a small shake of her head.

“Do you need anything?” You offer Jessie, pointing to an open table where she could sit if she wanted her calf or anything else worked on. You don’t miss how at first she doesn’t verbally answer you, instead her eyes move from your face, down your entire body, then back up, her eyes taking an extra second on your lips before returning to meet your eye contact. She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, biting her lip softly.

“Nope, I’m good.” She gives you a smile, you can see her cheeks have a slight red blush but you ignore that.

She turns and walks away, Janine catching her on the way out. You watch as the two appear to argue for a second before Janine slaps the back of Jessie’s head softly. Jessie returns the favor and smacks Janine’s arm as they keep moving down the hallway. Just before they hit the corner Janine turns back to look at you, you make eye contact for a second and she raises her eyebrows at you. Not knowing what that means or what to do you just turn back to putting bandaids, tape, and gauze back where they belong.

It was going to be a long 6 weeks with the team.

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #jflem #canwnt #jessie fleming imagine #woso imagine #woso x reader

[elsaellaelys]

Reader is insecure about Kie cuz JJ used to like her but he's determined to show her he's obsessed with her. Like making her cum and squirt so many times until she knows how in love with her he is

Reassure

Summary: requested.

WARNINGS: 18+ content

Pairing: JJ Maybank x fem!gf!reader

a/n: It's being sooo long, right? Loved your request anon, gave me something to think about for sure. Any more requests? I'm baack.

--★--

It was no secret JJ liked Kiara and she dumped him. Y/N was there when it happened, she stood beside him all the time, before and through it, always so sweet and caring, so patient even with JJ's reckless choices. Slowly he started to realize what was right in front of him, her pretty shine eyes and hair, the soft way her hands lie in his arms. One day he just kissed her, out of the blue, the thought felt so right in his head, more when he did it. Her soft lips felt so hot and heavenly against his. And she melted on his arms. Y/N remembered this now and wondered if JJ didn't committed a mistake out of confusion, cause he's being too attentive towards Kiara, helping her get into the boat, handing her beers, smiling so... Urgh! Her insecurity had her overthinking if he didn't stopped liking Kie, if he used her just to keep himself busy, if she was enough compared to Kie...

"Y/N? Babe? You're coming?" JJ's voice brought her back from her thoughts as he hold the Twinkie's back door waiting for her to come out.

"Yeah." She followed him to The Wreck, practically Kiara's restaurant, the pogues all sitted to eat like the old times and Y/N remembered of when she used to secretly worship JJ and he only had eyes to Kiara, she couldn't help, but look at him holping that he would catch it and praise her out of her mind. He was laughing with the Pogues though and she felt weak on the heart, she got up and mumbled about going to the bathroom. In that second JJ knew something was up, didn't waited a second before following her, entering the bathroom right behind her.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." She shrugged, wetting her face in the sink. He hugged her from her back, snugging his face on her neck.

"Come ooon, princess. Tell me, I'll make it better." JJ reasured her, peppering kisses on her skin, Y/N closed her eyes, sighing at the feeling of his lips. She trusted JJ's words more than everything.

He'll make it better...

"I just... Do you think I'm good for you?" She turned around to face him, paying close attention to his expressions, he looked confused, perplexed even.

"What? Of course you are. You're perfect. What type of question is that?"

She shrugged again, avoiding his gaze, hands playing with the collar of his shirt, too ashamed to admit being jealous of his ex, of their best friend. "Look at me, pretty thing." He smirked.

"You're so good. You're a good girl for me right?"

Y/N nodded, pleasing eyes up at him.

"Then sit on the sink." She furrowed her eyebrows, but his hands pulled her up by thighs.

"Wha-"

"Shh... You really want them to hear you? I bet you do, uhm?" He smirked, unbuttoning her jeans, easily sliding them down along with her panties. "Want them to know how fucking hot I think you are, how I'm so crazy for you I had to take you right here at the restaurant?"

Y/N was speechless, the way JJ was looking at her while spreading her legs and lowing his face to between them made her mouth dry.

"You wanna feel better?" He asked, kissing her inner thighs, she could only nod, opening her legs to give him more space. JJ grinned widely. "Good girl." He praised, straight liking her pussy.

She immediately opened her mouth in a silent moan, toes curling and finger gripping the edge of the sink and a handful of his hair, beautiful blonde hair, way too long, and she remembered of when he said he was going let it grown because she liked it longer. How could she even consider the idea that this guy wasn't fully in love with her? He sucked, licked and twirled his tongue, her head was tilting back and her body arched as she tried to keep her legs spread for him. JJ looked up to her, hands going up to massage her breasts over her shirt, he pulled away.

"Be a nice girl, princess." His fingers found their way to her aching cunt, two of them entering and teasing her sweet spot. "Cum for me, really good like only you know how to."

He forced his hand up and down in a rhythm that made Y/N bite her tongue, her lips shuting in a thin line to suppress her cries cause she was squirting and cumming all over her boyfriend's arm.

"That's it... fuuuck." He brush his cock against her thights through his jeans. When Y/N came down she was trembling, but JJ didn't seem to plan on stopping, his palm kept brushing on her clit and she couldn't take more.

"Please, please, wait-" She begged.

JJ chuckle and pouted mockinly "Wait? Wait what, princess?" He kissed her to keep her moans low when she cummed again, he feeling a wet spot on his boxers after moments of rubbing his tip. He groaned against her mouth, stopping his movements, both of them could burst in flames, the thrill of the rush growing too hot.

She laughed softly and he followed, realizing how teenage like all that felt.

"God... I love you so fucking much." He whispered against her mouth.

"I know." She said, feeling her words truly. "I love you too."

They left the bathroom not much later, leaving behind a discreet mess, sitting back with their friends, Pope squinted his eyes, a disgusted look on his face, but JJ brushed it off, handing Y/N a white milkshake, arm thrown over her shoulder as he kept his conversation normally. Y/N's lips wrapped around the straw with a shy smile, not admitting to herself how good it felt that all their friends knew what they did. JJ leaned to sweet talk in her ear.

"I'm taking you with me tonight. You have to do that again, princess, all over my face."

#jj maybank #obx fanfiction #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank smut #jj maybank x you #outer banks

[utterlyotterlyx]

The Fox and The Fawn

High Lord Eris x Rhys!Sister!Reader x Azriel

Part Three

Summary - After Azriel and Nesta return from their mission you find them being as watchful as ever, and it turns out that celebrations weren’t always destined to be joyous.

Warnings - angst, fluff, flirting, slight suggestive tones

Part One Part Two

Sunlight curled around your forearm, tugging you and willing you to step outside and bask in her glory.

Ignoring her, you again focused on the matter that held your attention.

“Say it with me, Nyx,” your hands were delicately placed under his arms, holding him in place on your lap. Nyx looked at you with wide eyes and blushed chubby cheeks, dark hair weeping from sleep, his little wings flapping behind him and small digits reaching to furl into your hair, “Auntie y/n is the most powerful.”

Nyx babbled incoherently and you shrugged, cuddling him into your chest and inhaling that smell that made your heart clench with want. It was so fresh, a perfect amalgamation of Rhys and Feyre but also something utterly pure and unique to him, “Close enough, I suppose.”

A certain type of ferocity had consumed you the moment Nyx had been born, there was no one that could guard him better than you. Perhaps that was why Rhys rarely cared when you would pick up the child and whisk him away in on one of your adventures, that being you’d walk him around the city and take him for ice cream all whilst trying (and failing) to ensure that the first thing to fall from his lips would be your name.

Sunlight speckled through the stained glass panes of the library, it was sometime around noon, and you had swooped Nyx from his cot that morning before Feyre or Rhys could realise it. No one would dare to meddle with your time with your nephew.

Three days had passed since Azriel had left you with nothing but a whisper of a kiss on your brow, it had been three days of silence, three days of Rhys acting as your shadow and you letting him believe that you didn't notice his intense gaze settled upon you whenever you entered the room. The Circle had been suspicious, whispering in corners and sparing you the odd sidelong glance before resuming their hushed bickering, even Feyre, who you believed wouldn't be one of those people, was also taking part.

It seemed as though Lucien was your only friend, he actively sought you out, he had noticed your reluctance and need to hide yourself away so distracted your mind by asking about Eris, about what you spoke of. Of course Lucien knew you wouldn't divulge any details, but seeing your eyes sparkle and a soft smile form on your lips was enough to make him believe that you at least had one good thing occupying your mind these days.

A sonnet of brisk air alerted you to another presence slipping through the library doors, Nyx perked up in your arms, and you knew instantly from that and the scent of night-kissed air that Rhys was stood somewhere behind you. Your nerves stood on end as he rounded where you both sat, casting his shadow over your forms, "You stole him again," Rhys' voice was cold and distant, but he cocked his head to the side and grinned at his son, placing his finger in Nyx's hand and shaking it gently.

"Is it so terrible of me to want to spend some time with my nephew?" Rhys hummed and reached for the child, you went to shield him from your brother but relented when Rhys' gaze set alight in warning and gave in, relaxing your grip and feeling that pained void when the wriggling child was snatched from you.

Rhys settled Nyx into his chest, resting his chin atop the crown of his head and looked down on you with his usual wariness, "We have been invited to the Day Court this evening. Helion has requested your presence."

Narrowing your eyes at him, you surveyed his face for any signs of deception, "What's the occasion?" Rhys turned his back to you, sweeping Nyx from your sight, muttering something about a birthday.

It was too odd. First Azriel and Nesta being sent away, the entire family being odd and secretive, then being beckoned to the Day Court? Something wasn't right, and you certainly did not want to spend your evening watching Helion beg Azriel and Cassian for some kind of soul-enlightening orgy.

Once Rhys had stepped out of the room, you threw up your shield and floated toward the desk, once again ignoring the sun beckoning you outside and finding an odd scrap of parchment to scribe upon, scratching your message out and letting it devour itself into ash and float away.

I need your opinion on something.

A minute passed and you spied an autumn-scented piece of cream tinged paper wedged beneath an old leather bound book.

Is that all you need from me?

Smirking, you replied with a matching amount of seductiveness. That was how your conversations had been going, light and always full of mischief, but Eris was always poised to listen to your words, he was always ready to help you if you even thought of asking him for it.

For now.

Tell me what's on your mind, Fawn.

Hesitating, your quill hovered over the paper as you debated whether or not to tell him what the past three days had been like without Azriel and Nesta. The hushed words and glares, your loneliness and desire to lock yourself away. Was it divulging Night Court secrets or just your own?

I feel out of place here. I feel like I'm being punished for helping you. Rhys sent Azriel and Nesta away, and the rest of them are avoiding me more than usual. Cassian hasn't invited me to training, Mor hasn't come to my rooms to gossip, even Rhys took Nyx from my arms only a few minutes ago. It's like I'm poison that they need to dispel from their lives and I just want to lock myself away and disappear.

Watching the clock, you counted down the seconds until another note found its way to you.

I know Rhys sent them away because I found them poking around my boarders the evening before last. And, you're not poison, Little Fawn, locking yourself away only means that they win, and you're far too important to let the infantile actions of your family diminish everything that you are. Don't forget that. No one controls you but you, y/n, the world is yours if you would only ask for it.

Would you give me the world if I asked for it?

I would burn the world to ash if you asked me to. There is nothing that I would not give you.

Heart fluttering in your chest, you slumped back into the comfort of the antique armchair that you had told Cassian off more times than not for using it as a stool for his feet.

Will you be there tonight? At the Day Court?

I will.

Will you find me?

Always.

The shield around you pulsated with force and you furrowed your brow at the shimmering ripples that swam across its surface. Dull thumps echoed within your bubble, and a muffled voice called out to you. Glancing down at the note in your fingers, you turned it into black mist that curled around your fingers and danced upward to the sky and lowered the guard.

You could have cried with relief. Azriel stood before you, still clad in his second skin, blue siphons glowing like he had entered just entered Velaris and had immediately sought you out before reporting to Rhys. Azriel knew what was more important.

"You're back," you breathed as you walked into his awaiting arms, arms that wrapped around your waist and fingers that raked through your hair with a hint of desperation.

Your heart seized in your chest, needing to feel at home and at peace. But it didn't. A lump formed in your throat and a pit opened in your stomach and pooled with unease.

Azriel pulled away from you, his hazel eyes scoured your face but they held something awoken in them, like he saw you differently. His fingers floated over the surface of your skin, up the inky bargain that encased your upper arm which matched his own and across your collarbone, but he didn't touch you there as though as if he were worried that you would mar his hands further.

You took a step back, "What's wrong?"

He'd found something on his travels, something that was making him look at you differently, in a way he had never looked at you, with fear, with sadness.

Azriel's brows etched together, his eyes flowing up and down your form, noticing something off about you. Your scent. The scent of Autumn, of Eris, lingered on your fingertips, the same fingers that were wrapped around his neck moments ago. You hid your hands behind your back.

"Nothing. I just wanted to see you," even his voice was laced with his deception, his shoulders went rigid like a putrid smell had entered his nose, and he visibly shivered, "I should go and talk to Rhys. I'll find you later?"

Feigning innocence, you called, "Was the mission alright, at least? Where did you end up going?"

Azriel turned back to you, lingering in the doorway before your portrait, "It was fine," he forced a tight lipped smile, it was almost as if he had forgotten how observant you were, and how well you knew him. Still, you kept your eyes full of that doe eyed wonder that threw him off and lured him right into your talons. If he was going to lie to you, then there was no harm in aiding your own agenda, "Rhys sent us to keep an eye on some happenings in Spring. Tamlin has been expanding his armies."

A lie. A blatant attempt of deception. One that didn't stick.

Anger bubbled within you, Azriel had never lied to you, your bond was supposed to be too special for those kind of games. Instead of allowing it to bubble over, you inhaled deeply and kept your hands folded behind your back, "Well, I'm glad you're home. I missed you."

The Shadowsinger relaxed his features and almost looked as though he wanted to move to you, to gather you up in his arms and protect you from whatever was clearly heading your way. But he didn't, instead, he spoke to you softly, "I missed you too, y/n," and disappeared from your view.

A feeling of impending pain, perhaps not physical, lodged itself deep within your soul, almost strong enough to steal the air from your lungs. Clasping you hand around the ledge of the large oak desk, you hunched over and attempted to fill your lungs with oxygen, tears prickled at the corners of your eyes and for the first time in your life, your own sanctuary was suffocating you.

Nesta had greeted you with the same apprehension as Azriel had, although, at least she had made it clear that she didn't want to.

Even the walls were watching you, craning their gaze to follow your figure through the house. The only safe space was your room, so that's where you were, nestled between the cushions and watching the candlelight flicker against the cream coated walls whilst Nesta paced about the space, showing you countless dresses on their hangers since you were making no move to look yourself.

Your friend was dressed in head-to-toe black, a form fitting garment with a long slit up the right side and a neckline so plunging that it left little to the imagination. Her coronet was tightly woven, and two thick strands curled around her jaw to frame her sharp features. Blood red lips, arched brows, eyes full of anticipation.

"You have to choose one, y/n."

Ignoring her command, you turned your head to her and she knew what you wanted to know before you even asked, "Are you going to lie to me too?"

Nesta froze, allowing the hanger to fall at her side along with the silver garment attached to it, "What do you want to know?"

"I want to know why Azriel lied to me about where you both went, and I want to know why all of you are suddenly treating me like a stranger," Nesta exhaled shakily, and it was the first time that you had truly seen her stoic demeanour perish before your eyes; she glanced about the room with worry, like she too could sense the house pressing its ear up against your door, "It's safe to speak. Not even the house can hear us."

The elder Archeron sister perched on the edge of your bed, noting your hunched over figure as you hugged your knees close to your chest, it was clear that your exclusion by everyone was making you feel lesser than. Nesta rested her hand atop the comforter, almost reaching for you, but also not at all; Nesta struggled to find the words, to tell you some form of truth without shattering you, "If it ever comes to it, you know I will protect you, don't you?"

"I used to believe that."

Nesta shuffled up the bed and spoke in a hushed tone, "Rhys has been trying to understand you, where all of your power came from and why he only has a fraction of it. He asked us to go Under The Mountain, to see if Amarantha did something else to you other than take your wings. Males would stop at nothing to harness the power that you have."

Under The Mountain was a hazy memory, one that you'd rather not remember at all. You rolled your shoulders, feeling the marred flesh rippling at the action, "Is that what Rhys wants to do? To harness my power? Is that why I've been so hidden?"

Nesta didn't want to answer, but she couldn't keep it from you, unlike Azriel, Nesta remembered your observance, how nothing got past those fire ringed violet orbs, "I don't know what he wants to do with what he finds," she told you honestly, her stoic hatred for him returning to her features, "I didn't go to aid him, y/n. I went so that I could find whatever he wants to know and give it to you. Protect you."

At least one of them was on your side, and you supposed it would have always been Nesta, Azriel was too loyal to the Night Court, and despite your bargain, he would always protect Velaris first and worry about you later.

"Did you find anything?"

Nesta sighed, "Azriel didn't," but she certainly had, "Not now. Now, you wear the most incredible thing you can find and we go to the Day Court and wear the masks that we have to in order to survive another day."

The dress in her fingers, still on its cushioned pearlescent hanger, was a shade of blue-grey that you rarely wore. The bodice was like armour, perfectly fitted and boned, crystals were embedded into the curve of the breastplate and trickled down the deep seated opening that only met just above the bellybutton, exposing the taut muscle and cleavage beneath. From the point where the fabric met at the lower abdomen, the skirt curved upward over the hips and each ridge of fabric acted as a branch, curving upward and cascading down the back, pooling on the floor. The skirt was frosted, diamonds coated the branches of the skirt and curled around the hem which trailed along the floor, and a long central slit sliced upward, enough to expose the legs you knew most males would crumble for, but also little enough to keep your dignity in tact.

It was a spectacular thing that your mother had made. Perhaps the most.

Nesta helped you into the piece, slithering it up your form and humming in appreciation about how well it fit you. The sleeveless garment was certainly made for you, and she secured a diamond necklace around your neck and rested her hands on your shoulders.

Loose curls bounced with every step, Nesta had braided two thick sections and pinned them upward, pulling the skin of your face backward, and had even gone as far as to bless your face in neutral shimmering cosmetics.

The room fell silent when you stepped into the living area, Cassian's once bellowing laughter turned to molten nothingness, Mor's quips dissipated, Rhys' loving words to Feyre who was entangled in his arms were ash in his mouth, even Azriel couldn't speak as his own eyes poured over you.

Paying little mind to the stares of your family, you turned your attention to Lucien who was stood in the corner leaning against a wooden beam with his arms folded over his chest, smirking, "Shall we? I'd hate to waste an outfit like this on people who couldn't even begin to appreciate it the way it deserves to be."

Lucien bit back his laugh and took your arm after a gentle nod from Elain who knew, and despised, how you were being treated. Under his breath Lucien muttered, "You're playing with fire, y/n."

Leading him from the house and onto the lawn, you turned your gaze upward to him, appreciating his beauty and the tied back hair that Elain had no doubt tailored to him, "Perhaps. But I won't be the one who gets burned."

The Day Court Palace had always had the ability to take your breath away, the home alone was enough to convince you that relocating would be a good idea. Maybe it was the white marble pillars so brilliantly white and tall that they kissed the sky, or maybe it was the cloudless skies that washed you in orange bliss the moment you appeared at the foot of the steps.

Even the breeze was welcoming, dancing around your arms and shoulders before moving onward. A weight had shifted within you, and you realised that it was because the Day Court had no reason to watch you like Velaris did, that for the first time in months you were actually free of eyes constantly watching you.

You didn't look back to see if everyone had landed alright when you began to ascend the steps, completely breaking protocol and sauntering upward to where you could hear music and laughter bubbling. Two familiar presences fell in step with you, Nesta and Lucien, the former to your left and the latter to your right, and you all ignored the claws scraping down the walls of your minds commanding you to return to your positions.

Music swirled around you as you paced down the hallway, being mindful of the multiple pairs of feet scuffling behind you until a hand wrapped around your wrist and tugged you back with force. Rhys loomed over you, eyes ablaze and snarl conformed to his lips, nostrils flaring with each breath, "What do you think you're doing?"

Nesta fell to your side, ready to take down the High Lord by any means necessary, Cassian was glaring at her and moved closer to Rhys, "I think that you're the one who should be answering that question, brother."

The air around you both grew heavy, it pulsated with dark energy that emitted from you both, but yours drowned his own and pierced him with its talons, making him feel weak and weary, "Remove your hand before I make you," and he did, his hand dropped from your wrist, "What a good little High Lord you are, Rhys. Father would be so proud of you."

Unspoken words flew between you, ones that told him that you knew what he was doing, that he was seeking to control you and always had, just as your father did.

Azriel had, unsurprisingly, moved to Rhys' other side, his gaze low and body ready to cut you down, he was blocking Feyre from view but she peeked over his shoulder just as Mor did with Cassian.

Power pulsated around you like a heartbeat, black began to move from your fingertips and tinge your veins with their ink from your fury, and Rhys' faltered at the sight of it, his eyes blew wide open and he found your darkened eyes zoning in on him, the violet had turned almost black and that ring of fire was blazing, "You need to calm down, y/n."

"Don't you dare," Nesta growled, placing her hands on your shoulders and turning you away, whispering to you and soothing you whilst Lucien stood up to Rhys.

Lucien's gaze was cold, his mechanical eye whirred as he took in the scene before him, of the High Lord flanked by his soldiers, needing to protect him from his own flesh and blood, "Tell me, Rhys," he found Rhys' gaze again, that constantly disapproving thing that followed you everywhere, "Tell me how what you're doing to her, to your own sister, is any different than what Tamlin did to Feyre."

Silence.

Bone dry silence consumed them, and when Lucien turned to see where you and Nesta had gone to, he only saw the train of your dress slip around the corner of the door toward the sound of freedom.

The room had turned to you as soon as you had entered with Nesta by your side, and not in a wary on edge way, in one of awe and adoration. Eris lingered by the dais, dressed in dark grey pants and white shirt, grey waistcoat and matching jacket which adorned silver swirls.

All anger evaporated from you as soon as his russet eyes found you, they washed over you with concern, no doubt seeing the blackened fingertips and sadness in your own orbs that had returned to their usual hue. He looked beautiful, more so than you remembered, more beautiful than the version of him that settled within your dreams.

You moved to the dais and greeted Helion, you had gone to bow to him, as custom when visiting other courts, but he didn't let you, "You bow for no one, especially when you look like that," he had always taken every opportunity to flirt with you, and he always held a certain resentment for Rhys for refusing your hand to him.

"Thank you for inviting us, I hope you've had a wonderful birthday," you folded his hands in your own and felt his healing touch worm its way into every negative pocket in your body, feeling lighter, more grounded.

The doors opened again, and you turned to see Rhys stalk up the centre of the hall closely followed by the rest of his Inner Circle. As if sensing your discomfort, Eris took a step up and offered a hand to you, and you gladly took it, stepping down from the foot of the dais to allow Rhys to have his moment with his friend, and not once did Cassian or Azriel's eyes move from you.

Lucien reached his brother and whispered into his ear, "I need to talk to you. Now," Eris frowned and peered to you, noting your fluttering eyelids and the unease that radiated from you and nodded, moving to follow Lucien who sent you a reassuring smile before they exited the hall.

If it weren't for Nesta stood beside you, you surely would have crumbled. She stared down her own mate and friends, head dipped low and staring at them through her brows, anger seethed from her and you knew she was going over the consequences of ending Rhys' existence right there and then in her mind. Nesta was Lady Death and you were the Queen of Darkness.

For the next hour you stuck to the walls of the hall, muttering polite hellos as you did your best to keep a safe distance between you and Rhys.

The architecture was stunning, white marble walls and golden chandeliers, pale wood round tables stacked with sparkling wine flutes and food, long benches full of revellers enjoying the festivities. Artwork delicately hung from the walls, glittering in the crystal tinted glow of the chandeliers, sparkling in the light as the skies grew dark beyond the open arches.

Helion's bellowing laughter floated about the room, and you wondered how a life in Day could have turned out for you. Though, you didn't have long to think of it before a hand curled around your forearm and gently pulled you from the room. Eris was in front of you, gingerly holding your arm in his hand as he led you down a flurry of corridors, peering down each one quickly to ensure it was safe to go there.

The High Lord led you all the way out to a private balcony, where you could hear the waves crashing against the rocks and the breeze flutter around the corner. The torchlight danced in the wind, flickering softly as he turned to you. Breathing in, you felt peace, that autumn pine and orange, wilting leaves and warm autumn rain.

Sighing, you felt tears pool in your vision, turning it slightly blurry as you tried to drink him in, "Lucien told me what happened. Are you alright?"

That singular question broke a little piece of you, you couldn't remember the last time some asked if you were alright and were actually invested in the answer. The concern in his eyes and brows made a soft tug pull at your soul, "I'm suffocating."

Eris waited for you to continue, keeping a distance he thought you'd be comfortable with between you, though all you wanted was to know what his arms around you would feel like, what it would feel like to have his lips pressed to the bare skin of your shoulder.

"They've been lying to me, all of them. Nesta confirmed it. Rhys doesn't understand why he only has a fraction of my power, he sent them Under The Mountain to see if Amarantha did other things to me when she held me hostage in the beginning. I feel like a prisoner in my own home, they're all scared of me, even Azriel," your voice broke, never in a million years, in your existence, did you ever think you'd voice that Azriel was scared of you.

"None of them want to touch me or speak to me. I can't do it anymore. I thought Rhys just wanted to protect me, but now I know it was never about that, it was about keeping me hidden and away from everyone else, he made me a prisoner and I didn't even know it."

Wrapping your arms around yourself, your tears flowed freely down your cheeks and you made no move to wipe them away. Eris took a step closer to you, his shadow waltzing with your own, "Can I touch you?"

It took you a moment, a moment of his russet eyes on you and fingers fidgeting at his side until you nodded softly and he raised his hand. His fingertips lightly dusted up your arms and neck, they curled your hair around them and grazed along your jaw, and you felt electric under his touch that spready across every single part of you. His breath was warm over your face and you took a moment to appreciate him, his godly-crafted cheekbones and jaw, eyes that told a million stories, the golden freckled skin and his curved lips.

"I'm not afraid of you, Little Fawn. Nothing about you scares me," his finger curled under your chin and angled your head upward, "All you need to do is say the words. You are the author of your own story. Tell me what you want."

Rhys had let you believe that you had free will, he had allowed you to be outspoken and poised, he had let you believe that you were nothing more than a scare tactic, and you were too enthralled with your so-called family to realise what he had done. There was nothing free about your life, you weren't allowed to leave Velaris without supervision and even such occasions were rare, you weren't called upon in battle until there was no other choice, you were a pawn to him, one that he had masterfully toyed with.

"I want to go to the Autumn Court. With you. I want to denounce my place in the Night Court and leave Velaris," the words felt like poison in your mouth but your soul was thankful for it, and the storm in your soul had already began to break with golden sunlight.

Eris nodded and took a step toward you, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you into his chest, your hands were flat against his waistcoat that had once again matched your own attire perfectly, "Your wish is my command, Little Fawn," and then you both disappeared in a swirl of light, leaving nothing but the joint bliss of your scents behind and dancing away in the night-kissed breeze.

Author's Note

I hope you love this! x

Taglist

@mybestfriendmademe @jesskidding3 @rosewood-cafe @fandomarchiveilyd @brujitafantomatico @crazylokonugget @mai-adaptive-dreams @magicstrengthandcourage @acourtofmoonlightandstars @ysmttty @lilah-asteria @circe143 @xyzmeh @paleidiot @namelesssav @amberlynn98 @acourtofbatboydreams

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar imagine #maasverse #fanfiction #imagine #azriel x reader #rhysand #cassian #azriel x you #eris imagine #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris x reader #eris x y/n #eris x you #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #acotar azriel #azriel acotar #azriel x y/n #feyre x rhysand #rhys acotar #nesta #nesta archeron #lucien acotar #lucien vanserra #acotar x reader #acotar x you #acotar x y/n

[buttdumplin]

Been thinking a lot about the 141 boys and their piercings. This is just a quick little thing

cw: poly 141, gn!reader, clit and tits specified but that's it, genital piercings, breeding mention, lots of precum (this one is a little sticky), aftercare mentioned, let me know if I missed anything!

Ghost, undeniably, with his Jacob's ladder, 7 rungs. He'll use it to measure and tease each of you about how much of him you're able to take. He loves seeing the pride and hunger that each rung inspires, making it solely about you as the receiver. It's quite an experience every time, one he'll recreate as many times as asked. But if you ask Ghost, his favorite use of it is working each of you up without penetration. He'll still your hips as he grinds against you until you're drenched and every drag of his cock fills the room with squelching. He'll rut against the boys from base to tip until they are coated with their own precum. Gaz will whimper every time Ghost presses against his frenulum and the sound alone has the rest of you moaning.

Pretty boy Gaz himself has 2 that he can hide, a lovely little tongue piercing and a guiche. The boy loves to give and to get, and really, who can blame him. He loves the fact that he can keep both mostly hidden and then flash them at all of you to tempt you into bed. And it's never not worked. The boys are never as breathless as they are every time he presses the bead on his tongue into their slits. It's lead to plenty of sounding sessions, but nothing hits as hard as when Gaz has his lips wrapped around their tips, bead nestled in them, and he lets out a deep, prolonged hum. And in return, you'll all take advantage of that guiche. You'll reach down as you ride him, past those incredibly sensitive balls of his, and press and flick lightly at the hoop. It'll have the most sinful sounds coming from his mouth and have his hips stutter.

Soap has his nipples done, a shiny silver barbell through each, of course. His nipples were already sensitive before the piercings, but now a single flick at them will have him hard in half a second. You've all been known to take on the challenge of making Soap cum by just playing with his nipples. Those nights will end with him drooling and covered in copious amounts of his own cum, because a single time is not enough for any of you. And while it leaves him sensitive for days, he lives for those sessions. Soap will also use them to subtly and secretly work the boys up during the day. He'll drop by to check in on them and come close as if he's got something important to tell them, but he'll use the moment to rub his nipple against theirs. He'll keep at it until they reach for him, sprinting away before they can grab hold. And with you, he'll pin you down and hold your tits to give you the exact same treatment, only without any clothes acting as barriers, ignoring the rest of your body, not stopping until you're begging prettily. Never you mind that he's also panting by the time you do so.

And Price, beautiful, wonderful Price. He has his nipples pierced, too, only he's got heavy silver hoops in them. He's also got a Prince Albert, which he will use on all of you without an ounce of hesitation. Nights with him will have each and every single one of you crying with pleasure. He'll gladly go at Gaz' frenulum with it, having him cumming just from frotting. He'll use it to milk Ghost and Soap's prostates, making them go for round after round after round until they run dry. And he'll use it to abuse your clit until you're begging him to fuck you, whispering in your ear that maybe this time it'll stimulate your cervix enough to help his seed catch. You always agree, nodding blindly, needing the feeling of him ramming into you so fucking deeply.

On days when he's tired and needs a break from his constant role of authority, you and the boys will bring out this little chain you had made for him. It's an almost dainty thing that clips onto his nipple hoops and his Prince Albert. It's just short enough to pull gently at all three, giving steady stimulation but not enough to help him cum. You and the boys will have him kneel in front of you, and you'll caress him and kiss him and put on a show to make his heavy cock jerk and tug on the chain. On these days, Price will never beg, he won't even speak unless asked to. Because he knows you'll all treat him right, he knows he's in safe hands. So he'll kneel in place for as long as asked, using his mouth on each of you, a steady string of precum oozing from his cock and hitting the floor. These chain sessions end with Price at the center of the cuddle pile and the most tender aftercare.

There is another one they all have as well. No one really remembers who brought it up to begin with, but for your one year anniversary with them, they all got a pubic piercing. They all went into the shop together to get it done a couple of months earlier, knowing they'd be gone on deployment and successfully be able to hide them. So on the night of, after you've all come back home from a lovely dinner, they ask you to close your eyes for just a moment. You hear lots of rustling and some giggling from Soap and some hushing from Ghost and sharp, nervous exhales from both Price and Gaz. They give you the all-clear and you open your eyes to see them holding their already heavy erections to the side to show you the pretty jewelry. "For that pretty clit of yours," they say. "Now you'll have to tell us who uses it the best"

#i am fucking rabid over this #this was written in a fucking feverdream #it just fucking burst out of me #I've been thinking about this all week having dreamt about it #i love how much each of these say about them too #it's so personal for each of them #and it works so fucking well #poly 141 #poly 141 x reader #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #johnny soap mactavish #captain john price #cod x reader #cod #ghost x reader #gaz x reader #soap x reader #price x reader #i cannot emphasize the poly of this enough

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡A Sky Full of Stars♡

♡ Pairing: idol!dad!hongjoong x fem!mom!reader

♡ Genre: the fluffiest of fluff

♡ Summary: Just some sweet moments you share with Hongjoong when you and your daughter surprise him after their Coachella set.

♡ Word Count: 1.4k

♡ Warnings: If there's any warning it's that your kid has a name. I know some people don't like that. She's named after an artist Joong likes who I think has a pretty name so that's all babes.

♡ A/N: I set out to make this super fluffy summer road/beach trip fic with Joong but I sat down to write and this is what came out instead so I present to you some post-concert fluff and I hope it gives you all the sweet feelings it gave me writing it.

This can’t be real.

It’s all Hongjoong keeps repeating in his head as he steps off of the Sahara stage at Coachella. His ears are ringing, his heart’s beating out of his chest, his throat’s on fire, and he’d walk right back on that stage to keep going if he could.

It seems like only yesterday his group was fighting to debut; now they’re here, performing on a stage some artists can only dream of stepping foot on. The joy on his member’s faces. The sound of their fans screaming for them. It’s a special kind of magic he wishes he could bottle up and keep somewhere safe to treasure forever.

“Captain!” Wooyoung cheers, throwing an arm around him, “We did good?” Hongjoong looks around to see his members staring at him, his approval all that matters in the sea of praise thrown at them by staff. Hongjoong nods, wiping his face with a towel, “We did good!” Smiles perk up their exhausted faces as they drag themselves down the steps leading to the backstage area.

Stepping onto the grass, Hongjoong stares up at the infinity pool of stars that is the California sky. Just when he feels himself begin to float away, a faint tugging at his pants keeps his feet on the ground. It’s so faint that he almost questions if he felt it at all until Yeosang lays a hand on his shoulder letting him know, “You have company.” 

Hongjoong’s eyes dance their way down his leg to find a smaller nearly identical set of eyes staring up at him. All he’d done not to cry is for nothing when he sees the chubby glitter speckled cheeks of his little 2 year old smiling at the sight of him. “Olivia…” he gasps, scooping her into his arms, “What are you doing here?”

The other members gather around like moths to a flame. Of any fan they’ve ever had their niece will always be their favorite. Mingi squats down to eye level with her, pinching her cheek, “Hi, Oli. Uncle’s here.” “Oh look at these” San coos, playing with the two ponytails sat atop her tiny head, “So cute.”

Hongjoong holds her close to his heart, shaking the tears from his eyes. “Daddy cry?” she asks, touching his cheek. Hongjoong smiles, choosing to dodge the question rather than lie, “Um, where’s your mo—” “Here!” you say, hugging him from behind. You had every intention of announcing yourself to begin with but the happiness on his face seeing Oli was too adorable to interrupt.

That same happiness plays on repeat when he feels your arms around his waist. You weren’t supposed to be here. Your flight had been delayed twice and the baby was beginning to get fussy. Hongjoong had insisted you just stay home and watch the livestream. Just knowing you were watching would be enough for him but that’d never be enough for you. If you had to grow wings to fly yourself here you’d have done it to be by his side.

Not satisfied with simply knowing you’re there, Hongjoong reaches his free arm back to pull you around to his side. Time slows when he looks at you this way—like you’re one of the most precious things on this Earth. You’re one of two really, the other’s bouncing in his other arm with her fingers scrunched around his collar.

“Hey you” you beam, wiping a few rogue tears from his face. Hongjoong kisses you, soft lips pressed to yours in what has to be the sweetest, saltiest kiss you’ve ever shared. You don’t care how sweaty he is, only that you’re together. “Hey you” he smiles, his eyes narrowing slightly, “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” You shrug, playing it cute so he doesn’t kill you, “I wanted it to be a surprise.” Give him a heads up so he has ample time to play it tough? Never.

“Ahem,” Seonghwa interrupts, “Does that mean you were watching and saw…everything?” The guys look at each other, suddenly mortified at their onstage antics. “Oh, for sure. We saw everything. She’s gonna be an alcoholic now” you tease just to watch their heart’s sink. Hongjoong shakes his head at them, “Shame on you. For the record, my cup was water.” 

Jongho throws Hongjoong some vicious side eye, “Water, right. Oli, your daddy’s a liar.” “Daddy liar” Oli repeats with a giggle. You dip your head down to hide your own laughter as the guys hit an equally amused Jongho with their towels. Seonghwa casually swipes the baby away from Hongjoong to teach her how to throw a few hits. Hongjoong chases them down as if he’ll never see her again, “Be careful!”

“Joong, she’s fine!” you shout after him, “As long as Hwa has her…oh, no…Mingi unhand my child!” 

“Goodnight stars and goodnight air” Hongjoong reads, flipping the final page of a children’s book, “Goodnight noises everywhere.” He closes the book and Oli cheers, flipping it over for him to read again. Propped up in his lap as he longues in a barely comfortable hotel chair, it’s clear her miniature lids are growing heavy.

“Honey, it’s late. No more Goodnight Moon. Bedtime, okay?” His voice is stern, he means business, but so does she. Oli flips the book open, her hand rubbing the first page. Her bottom lip pokes out and he knows he can’t say no to her. “Fine but one more time and then bed.”

You emerge from the shower in time to hear the story start back up again. “In the great green room…” Hongjoong starts in his bedtime story voice. You move quietly around the room, listening to the story for what’s the 1000th time for you too. As you do, you steal glimpses of them holding hands, turning the pages of the book together. Hongjoong pauses to let Oli read or poke around the pages marveling at the illustrations.

“Is bunny?” she asks, pointing to a figure sitting in a rocking chair. “That is a bunny” he cheers softly, poking his two front teeth out to mimic a rabbit. Oli copies him—it’s sorta her thing these days—making you laugh so hard you snort. “Are you laughing at me?” Hongjoong jokes, his mouth still in perfect bunny formation. It only makes you laugh harder. Your two little bunnies, twins in every way they can be. Especially in their silliness.

You approach the them, planting a kiss on both of their foreheads, “You guys are adorable.” Hongjoong leans his head back, allowing it to rest in the palm of your hand. “You are too. So adorable” he yawns, his eyes heavy with exhaustion. A blink and you miss it moment of silence passes before he speaks again.

“Did I do okay, today?” he asks, his tone more serious now, “I don’t want to…I can’t let everyone down.” “God, no. You were amazing. Look at me” you demand, cradling the sides of his face to keep his anxious gaze from drifting. “You. Were. Amazing” you repeat, “Your fans are so proud of you and your members they love you. And that little bunny down there, she loves you.”

Hongjoong looks at Oli who’s fallen fast asleep against his chest, her hand still in his. “We both love you and you fucking killed it. If anyone says any different I’ll kick their ass” you promise and you mean it. “What’d I ever do to deserve you two?” he asks, kissing your inner wrists. You lean in close to him, your lips hovering just above his, “Exist. That’s all you ever have to do, you know?”

Your lips part to meet his and he welcomes them, sipping down feelings there are no words for and pouring the same into you. “I love you” he whispers and you smile. “I love you too.” Easing the book from between them with mom-like precision, you throw a pillow on the floor and take a seat by Hongjoong’s feet. You open the book and begin to read, not to Oli but to him.

Finally relaxing into the chair, he strokes your hair and listens to the sweet sound of your voice. He balances Oli on his lap, his delicate little gem who treats him like the sun rises and sets in his eyes. He’d long ago sworn that he didn’t think he’d ever have everything. What a frighteningly beautiful realization it is that he finally does.

#ateez x reader #ateez x you #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong x you #ateez fluff #hongjoong fluff #ateez au #ateez x female reader #hongjoong x fem!reader

[snowy-vee]

TUG: Hennessy pourin’ and shit getting fluid

taglist; @littlegingerperson5 @lil-elliesgf @bready101 @lmaoo-spiderman @elliescoolerwife @girlrotterr @les4elliewilliams @ellseasp @elsgirll @mikellie @radioheadfan699 @boobdrug @backedbeansh @a-little-bit-of-everybody

n/a: 1.3K words, no proof read. Go with the flow because it might be corny, I blame it on Heartbreak High😭😭 Love you all and I hope everybody is on the taglist.

INDEX

Believe it or no, Ellie and you can behave as friends. Good Friends.

“Fuck!”

Friends that go to shop together in need of best friend advice, Friends that casually hang out at the Ice Cream Shop and maybe share the same spoon and try not to make it dirty, Friends that would paint each other nails, etc.

“Keep it down”

¿Green or Red Dress? Skirt. ¿Skirt? Yeah, friends give advice on clothes all the time, they want you to shine and look your best but be comfortable for any situation, like if you go to a Party, you will move a lot, you need something easy to let you do that, something easy to slide…

“Ellie…”

Now, in case of going to a party, you have to pre-game! Take out that strawberry vodka bottle out of the closet and pour the shots ¿What are you waiting for? 1, 2, 3… okay, okay, you might want to slow down, that’s half the bottle, you have to walk to the frat party, of course you have a good friend like Ellie that will put her arm around your waist to help you, yep it tingles. BUTTERFLIES OF FRIENDSHIP.

“You see? The skirt was the best option”

“I-It wa- god, yes yes yessss”

You’re a little bit more sober, enough to walk to the centre and dance. Dina is much better choice for a dancing partner, she will hype you even more than alcohol can, also she knows all the popular songs, she will scream them together with you and will jump of euphoria when they put that one song ¡Oh yeah! She has to grab Jesse to dance to this one, you get it.

“Who’s in the bathroom?! There’s a line waiting!”

“¡Almost done, dude, wait! … ¿Almost done, baby?”

“mmmhm s’close”

Cat’s not here

YET. She will, she has to be around her girlfriend always but she’s not now, so she won’t tell Ellie to chill if you grab her to dance this one song, put her hands on your waist, she might be shy at first as if it was the first time you two danced like this, so close to each other, your ass grinding on her pelvis. Yes, you can’t see her but you know that she’s biting her lower lip by the way her grip lowers to your hips, pressing you two even more together.

“Ellie, I barely feel my legs”

This is the most friendly friend thing to do ¡Oh! Actually, it’s not. Going to the bathroom together IS the most friendly friend thing to do as good/best friends to gossip, to check makeup, to hold the hair of the other if there’s vomit involved, to eat your friend out if she made you so fucking horny that you could literally kiss you in front of everyone despise you both being in a relationship with others.

You adjust the skirt and look at yourself in the mirror, the dim light not letting you see if you looked one hundred percent decent, the knocking in the door intensifies, someone must be urgent to get in. A moment ago, you were on the toilet seat with your legs spread out in mid-air, and Ellie’s face was in between them.

“How do I look?”

“As if you’ve seen heaven”

“Cocky much? Let’s get out before-”

When you were opening the door, it got pushed almost making you fall if it wasn’t for Ellie behind you. It was a dude that entered the bathroom quickly pulling down his pants and peeing in the bathtub, oh that was gross, Ellie had to poke you to stop looking and keep walking as you both started laughing.

“What the fuck was that?” Ellie asked putting her arms around your shoulders to keep you close, there was more people in the house than before and the music was even louder. You shrugged looking around to see where Dina and Jesse where, maybe they were outside close by the pool but your eyes spotted someone else, a girl with short black hair dressed in all black with red and white accessories, seated in one of the couches, looking straight at you.

“Ellie!” Cat got up waving at her girlfriend. Quickly she dropped her arm on you and went to hug and kiss her, of course you were following behind her just to plop down in the corner of the couch, looking somewhere else that wasn’t them. “Where were you? I’ve been looking for you! I asked Dina and she had no idea”

“My fault, Cat, the tequila shots sent me straight to the bathroom, Ellie was helping me”

Ellie sat too with her Cat on her lap now and her hand around her waist moving up and down, but why do you care? Good Friends don’t put that face, change that annoyed face! They are the couple, she’s THE girlfriend.

“You two are always together…” She said in a cold tone, almost sending shivers trough your spine and sure Ellie felt the same because she shifted in a better position and cleared her throat “I see the way you look at us sometimes, as if you hate us being together”

“What?”

“Yeah, at first I thought you were homophobic or something like that, but Dina told me that you weren’t and I believed her, maybe I just saw you in a bad mood, but I started to see that your face was always like that when you saw me and Ellie together, so my question is ¿Do you like Ellie? Is that why you act like that, I’ve seen how you look at her sometimes too and maybe she’s too oblivious to see it but I’m not”

She had obviously been drinking a lot before you two met her here but the way she was talking… She had all this thoughts bottled inside of her waiting for the right moment and you for sure knew that it was mostly the alcohol talking because Cat was someone who would address this type of situation in private and maybe watching how close Ellie and you were triggered her.

“Let’s talk when you are sober, Cat, but just so you know, I don’t like Ellie in that way, only as friends and roommates-”

“Oh, for fuck sakes! You are a whore and everybody knows that, you don’t respect your relationship with Daniel and you think because of that you can meddle in between other’s relationships!” She screamed getting up from Ellie’s lap, catching the attention of the people around, you were just looking at her, unbothered of her words, even if they were true. “If you think that your basic slut tricks are going to break up me and Ellie, you are wrong, she would never cheat on my with a skank like you.”

The people started gathering close to you, Dina and Jesse also came outside the moment someone shouted about ‘Ain’t that Daniel’s girl?!’ knowing that it must be you. “You don’t have nothing to say? You’re not going to defend yourself? So it’s fucking true”

“Cat, stop, you’re drunk and overreacting” Ellie said grabbing Cat by the waist and trying to walk away but she shook her head, taking her hand off of her. You could only chuckled, that triggered her more ¿You were laughing at her? No way “Let’s go, please, everybody is looking at us, you will regret this tomorrow”

“I don’t fucking care, Ellie, I know she’s your friend and you care about her but she don’t see you as that, she wants you! Let me cool her down”

The gasp that left your mouth as the cold beer splashed on your face was the same as everyone there, Dina practically ran to grab your arms because she knew how bad that night could end.

“She’s just drunk, forgive her, no need to fight her, please” she started saying dragging you back to the house and get you cleaned up but you stop her. If Cat wanted an answer, you were going to give it to her, since she wanted to act like that.

“Cat…”

Ellie knew that look in your eyes and she knew you two were fucked. That smirk you had in your lips could only mean that you were ready to spill some venom.

“How does my pussy taste?”

Oh, that's not a very good friend thing to do.

#ellie x fem reader #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie the last of us #ellie fanfic #ellie fic #ellie fluff #ellie smut #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fandom #ellie tlou smut #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #tlou ellie #tlou #tlou2

[moonydustx]

warnings: mention of pain/migraines (period-related), mention of wanting to have children (but no mention of pregnancy). Law is a great boyfriend and doctor, as always. Completely self-indulgent since I've been feeling sick for the last week and had to hear the doctor laugh about it. Okay, I think that's enough for here.

You hated these days. You hated having a uterus and having to deal with all the problems it brought. You also hated the idea of ​​wanting to have children - perhaps in a hypothetical and distant future - and this prevented you from getting rid of the organ.

You wanted to feel like other women, some cramps, mood swings and that was fine, but every month a few days before your period it was the same pain that went through your head. If it was your uterus that hurt, you would just ask him to remove the organ for a few days, but what do you do when it was your brain?

Feeling the first pangs, you immediately dropped your task, Law would understand the case. You took the small card out of your pocket and left it hanging next to the groceries you organized. It was an easy way to communicate on bad days, since talking out loud hurt enough that you chose not to speak.

Walking at a leisurely pace, the images around you became colorful blurs and even with just a few minutes between the start of the pain and the current moment, you already felt your head throbbing. Opening the room shared with Law, you felt around the dresser and found the pills, swallowing them without water. Afterwards, your body found comfort in the darkness of the room in the sheets that even covered your head.

I took the day off. Tomorrow, I'll be back.

Law tapped his fingers over the card. He always kept a calendar to keep track of these days and the card you had drawn by hand was just a trace of the little agreement between the two of you for when the day was bad with the problem he hadn't yet found the perfect remedy for.

Passing through the kitchen and his living room, Law picked up what little was capable of improving his situation. The closed door and the silence and darkness of the room indicated that it was another one of the crises.

"My heart?" the cute nickname used on rare occasions reached your ears in a whisper. You knew that Law was too rational for that kind of name, calling you that showed how much he loved you - and in that situation how worried he was. Law struggled to close the door without any noise. You knew he was next to you when you felt the bed dip. "How are we with the pain?"

"I took my pills, but it still hurts." your low, broken voice hurt him more than you could notice. It was frustrating for Law to be a doctor but still not have found the ideal solution.

"Babe did you eat?" your mumble in denial was the answer he already suspected. "Okay. Let's at least have some water, okay?"

He supported you to sit down and, still being held by him, drink the glass full of water that he had brought.

"Good job." he whispered, laying you down again and using the sheets to cover you once more. "I left here some more water and a den den mushi, straight to my room. If you need it, just call and I'll be back here."

"Thank you my love." The words left your lips when Law placed a small kiss on your shoulder.

As much as he wanted to stay there and hold you, wait for you to get better, he knew that taking time for you to be still and silent was the best option or at least the one you chose. He also knew that when you wanted, you would definitely seek his help.

The hours of that afternoon dragged on for Law, while for you they passed a little faster. Although it didn't completely help with the pain, the medicine gave you equivalent sleep for the whole day. Waking up a few hours later, the first thing you reached for was the other water your boyfriend had left there. Emptying the glass in a matter of seconds, you stopped to understand how you felt. Some of the pain had eased and you could see clearly now.

Feeling for the door, you soon found the handle and opened it little by little, letting the light invade the place. Blinking a few times to adapt to the light, you went to where you imagined finding your boyfriend. Sitting at the table, stacks of paper stacked in front of him and an apparently hot cup placed in front of Law, focused on whatever the task was.

"Come in." he answered the two knocks on the door you gave. When he raised his face and came across your figure, his face immediately softened. "Hi babe. How are you feeling?"

"A little better." the firmness in your words reassured him. "Can I stay with you for a while?"

"No need to ask." he dragged the chair back. "Just turn off the light and get cozy." he opened his arms.

Following his brief orders, it only took a few seconds for you to be cuddling up to Law, letting your face hang under the back of his head.

"I won't disturb you if I stay here?" you looked up a little, watching him adjust the small reading lamp on the table.

"Never. I'm glad you came, so I can at least take care of you a little." he spoke still in the same low tone he had used previously. "Unless you want to go to our room."

"Do you mind if I sleep here a little longer?"

"It's okay my heart. Just let me know when you need something, okay?" His hand remained on your back, making a light caress. "Love?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm sorry I haven't found the solution yet." Law's regretful tone almost revealed that all the papers on his desk were about possible treatments, possible surgeries, possible solutions to a small problem that managed to leave you like that, hurt and vulnerable.

"No problem. " you placed a quick kiss on his cheek. It was frustrating and brought tears to your eyes knowing that even if tomorrow or the next day you woke up well, in a few weeks you would be visited by that torment again. "I love you for at least trying."

"Please, don't cry." as if he could read your mind, Law asked immediately, pulling your face to look at his and finding your eyes on the verge of tears. "First, it's going to make it hurt even more and second, I promise I'll find something."

"Or..."

"No, I'm not going to put your brain in a jar of formaldehyde." Even with the entire dark environment and being physically impossible, Law could have sworn that the light laugh that escaped your lips lit up the entire room. "Just rest, my love. Tomorrow, if you wake up better, we can go up to the surface, get some sun and think about more solutions together, okay?"

"Or can we just eat chocolate and read together?"

"Whatever you want. Now rest, my heart, you deserve it."

#trafalgar d law x reader #law x you #law x reader #one piece

[shojizbae]

My Rave Babies

Spencer Reid x Reader

rave baby part two

For three weeks, your coworkers had been barraged nonstop about your scandalous habits. "So, listen to any good EDM?" or " Going to any parties?" had been ringing in my ears all week. The team had managed to sneak in puns during a case.

"Well, that sheriff was just raving, man." Derek leaned against the counter and brought a paper cup to his mouth

"Enough," I groan and toss my head back

"C'mon, you can't just tell us you used to go to raves and then not take us," Emily explains

"We are in the dead of the midwest. Will a serial rapist be on the loose, and you're thinking about going to a rave?" I fill up a paper cup with coffee

"Well, do you know of any back home?" JJ offers, sliding effortlessly into the conversation.

"JJ, you have kids," I whine

"Will can watch them for the night." She refutes

"I can't. I'm going back to the murder case before this town is traumatized further." It's a less effective duck-out, but it draws attention away. Hotch gives me a bit of a look as I rejoin a discussion with an exhausted look.

"I hope you didn't stay up all night partying." He teases

"No, I got a full night's rest. I'm ready to take this guy in." Deny. Deny. Deny.

The case came to a close two days later, with the man castrating himself and then slitting his throat. Unfortunately, the connection that all of the victims had was that they frequented the same club. An EDM / Rocker club with very Rave-like vibes. The jokes flew on the plane ride home.

"Alright, alright, fine. I'm going to call my old friend. She'll let me know what's going on in town."

"Really?" Morgan jumps at the statement

"Yeah, don't make me regret this."

~

It was four days later that a festival would be in town for the weekend. I informed the team that tickets needed to be bought. I also let them know they should be on high alert for roofies and perverts. Skimpy clothes and loud music were catalysts for freaks.

"So you're really knocking the dust off?" Morgan holds an FBI mug up to his lips. He's got an all too-full-of-himself grin on his smug little face.

"Yeah, you're coming too?"

"Yeah, so is Emily."

"And me!" JJ holds each of my shoulders, "I'm so excited, Will hasn't stopped ogling the outfit in my closet. He said he needed to borrow some floss and held it up on the hanger."

"Is anyone else coming?"

"Yeah, Penelope and Spencer," Emily says

"Reid?" I nearly snort my coffee out

"That's my name." He traipses into the kitchen and dumps half the can of sugar into his mug.

"I figured a rave would be a little out of your comfort zone. You're really coming?"

"I-i-It is. But I'm trying some exposure therapy."

"I thought that has been disproven." Emily counters

"Clinically, yes. But some of the results of those who have conquered fear through exposure therapy are too nice to pass up. You know, in recent studies-"

"Yeah, we get it you're going." Derek cuts him off

"So, have you picked out an outfit?"

"It's no Halloween, but I figured I should just wear what I always do."

"What?"

~

The night came faster than I had expected. One night, I was filling out a report on a serial arsonist; the next, I was tying myself into a bikini and zipping up giant platform boots. I put on a silky kimono to disguise the scandalous outfit. We all taxied to the nearby party meeting to get our tickets and a wristband checked. Emily and JJ looked phenomenal. Penelope was show-stopping, though. A galaxy-printed dress, giant boots, and fishnets, bejeweled with bracelets and a bucket hat.

Derek was primarily shirtless, though he found a neon fishnet shirt and tactical boots over some burning man cargo shorts. Finally, Reid was the last of the group. Surrounded by a thousand people in their skivvies, he stuck out like a sore thumb in gray slacks, a purple pinstripe button-down, and a sweater vest. The most crazy part of his outfit was his mismatched DC and Marvel socks.

"Wow, you look-"

"You look," I motion up and down at him. "You know, for the youngest on the team, you look like you're babysitting." He laughs, but it seems like he's shriveling on himself.

"Don't worry, you look great," I reassure and slide my hand up and down his bicep reassuringly. Even if I'm typically a touchy person that gesture might seem too forward for coworkers so I retract my arm awkwardly.

"Dang, (Y/n), where were you hiding that body?" Emily came and patted me on the ass and then slung her arm over my shoulder.

"Ok, tipsy, why don't we get you some water?" I unfurl her from me

"That sounds great," Reid clears his throat. "My throat is feeling a little dry." Emily wraps herself around me, and JJ slings an arm over Reid's shoulder. Morgan follows behind us, and we find some bottles of water that are way overpriced. Music begins to bump behind us, and I drag the group into the heart of the crowd. Morgan rears off when he finds some girls eyeballing him. Penelope follows Derek to a group of fun.

JJ and Emily stay close by but jump and sway with the thrumming music. Reid looks out of place like a black sheep.

"DOC!" I shout over the loud music

"Yeah!"

"You look stiff!" I jump around and scream at him.

"I'm not much of a dancer. Maybe I should just go home."

"What?" I stop jumping. C'mon, you've just got to feel the music." I take a step closer. Thanks to the giant shoes I wear, I'm much closer to his face than I usually am. I loop my fingers into the belt loops on his hips and take another step closer. "C'mon, man, you've just got to feel the rhythm." with my hands, I make him sway his hips to the beat. With a bit of encouragement, he starts to do so by himself.

"Ok, just jump around. Let yourself feel free." I twist and jump to the ear-splitting music. He raises his arms apprehensively, and I fling mine on top of him to show him it's fine. With my permission, he raises them and starts to flail freely.

"Alright, pretty boy, get into it." Derek teases

"Don't listen to him. You look great." I jump and swing my arms like a toddler. Lost in the moment, I spin around to show off my back and shake my hips. I lose my control and dance like a maniac. I back up onto Reid and sway with him. As I feel eyes on us, Reid jumps away from me.

"Are you two having fun?" JJ drawls

"Have you been drinking?" I shout

"A lot!" She responds

"I'm having so much fun. Why did you stop this?" Emily screams

"The hangover you'll have tomorrow? Yeah, have fun taking a jet ride with your ears trying to compress into your skull. And one time I caught a nasty STI from hooking up with someone in a port-a-potty."

"What ew," Emily fake retches.

"Don't worry, I took antibiotics." The music came thrumming through the speakers as a new DJ started their set. Immediately, I recognized her and started leaping like a manic shrimp. "Oh my god, I love this song!" I twisted around and grabbed each of Reid's wrists.

"C'mon, dance with me!" my mind disappeared in the bass. Nothing else mattered but the feeling of my feet pounding into the dirt and the occasional collision of Spencer's limbs. Slowly, the thrumming of the tempo migrated to my ankles.

"Alright, it has been a long time since I've danced like this. I need a break."

"Yeah, I don't think these are the best dance shoes either." there's sweat on his brow, but he holds up one of his feet to show off the brown loafers.

"Let's find the rest of the group," I whisper scream in his ear. In the proximity, I feel my torso press to his. I nearly roll my ankle and he catches me by my hip. He stands me back up and steadies my hips.

"Ok, let's get you to a cab," We find Derek quickly. He only has one girl who won't let go of his bicep tonight. Emily, JJ, and Penelope cling back to us, and we leave the grounds all slightly limping. We all file into a taxi and people filter out of the car slowly.

"I think I'm going to get out here and just take the metro home." JJ and I are the only two left in the vehicle as Penelope gets out of the car.

"What no, just stay in the car. I'll drive you home."

"No, that's far too much."

"I could drive you home." JJ offers as we turn down the corner of her street."

"No, you live further than her."

"Reid, I'll drive you home," I demand.

"Alright, you two have a good night." JJ slinks out of the cab, and we watch Will open the door, and she leaps into his arms.

'the kids are sleeping.' I read from his lips

"They're going to have a fun night." I snort. Reid shrinks on himself again. "C'mon, you've had to have some sort of fun like this."

"No,"

"No?" The cab takes us to my neighborhood, and we get out. Reid insists on paying the driver. I let him in and opened the front door. He takes the same space on my couch and groans from the pain. I bring two cans of lemon seltzer water and slump down with my legs across his lap on the couch. I crack the cans and hand one to him.

"Oh, thank you," he takes it, and I take a big slurp of mine. I extend a foot up and put my ankle near his face

"Could you unzip me?"

Uh, uh, sure." He holds my ankle and tugs the zipper down the inside of my calf. Once it's down, I use my other foot to push it off with my other foot. I hold up the second foot and he obeys, tugging off himself.

"Thank you, I roll, crack my ankles, and sigh in relief. "Whew, those were killing me." I start to roll down my thigh-high fishnets.

"Uh, would you like to go to the bedroom to get changed?"

"No, I'm fine like this." I pull the second sock off. I readjust the slipper kimono and tug one of my blankets up my shoulders. I twist around to lie on Reid's chest, straddling his leg.

"Uh, what are you,"

"I'm tired, Spencer." I dig into his chest with my own and loop my arms around his neck. I readjust myself even more around him. His tie stabbed me in my temple, and I tugged it off his chest.

"Uh (Y/n), what are you-"

"Calm down," I say, undoing his top buttons for the skin-to-skin contact my body craves. Your chest is warm." I cuddle into it and kiss his collar.

"I had a good night, Spencer," I sink further into his frame and pull the blanket on harder. I feel a hand thread its way into my hair but dreamland takes me away.

"I had a good night too."

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #raver girl

[hotluncheddie]

Day 5: Possessive Steve

"Rockstar"

wc: 1.7k | rated: E | tags: Sub Eddie Munson, established relationship, blowjobs, mention of exhibitionism

written for @subeddieweek <3

🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸

Eddie always gets like this after a show - flighty and restless, unable to sit down. Even after a good fucking show like they had tonight. A good fucking metal fucking show. 

He just can’t ever seem to wind down, to stop, to think. 

He tried to fix it with whisky, but that didn’t go well. Not for anyone. He tried weed too and that works, sometimes, if he gets the timings right it can help him sleep. But mostly he just paces, while he waits. waits for the one thing he knows will help. Help him out of his head. Help him relax enough to go eat with the band, get some sleep tonight. Ready to start it all over again tomorrow. 

‘Hey rockstar.’ 

Steve. 

Steve smiles at Eddie’s from where he leans against the open doorway, arms crossed. He looks perfect like always; neat and put together and sinful in one of Eddie’s old merch designs. 

He strides over, pulling Steve in and closing the door, locking it and grabbing Steve’s hand, stepping in for a kiss and just as quickly stepping out again, pulling him further into the room. 

Eddie doesn’t realise he’s asking questions too close together, hands flailing, not leaving any breath for an answer. ‘Do you want a drink? Food? How was the show? Was your seat okay? Are you tired?’ Until Steve squeezes his hand and steps in real close, ghosting his mouth over Eddie’s. 

‘No, no, really fucking good, yes and no stop worrying.’ Steve mumbles, stopping Eddie in his tracks, arms limp at his sides. Steve tugging them closer by Eddies belt loops. 

Steve’s voice is low, soothing, playful. ‘My seat was perfect, I could see you so well. And….’ Steve leans in, hot breath against Eddie’s ear. ‘There was a couple in front of me tonight, wanna know what they were talking about?’

Eddie shivers, Steve stepping them back once, twice, Eddie’s back hitting the wall. Steve’s fingers digging into his waist. He waits for Eddie, eyeing him. ‘Please’ Eddie whispers eventually, mind finally catching up, body ready for what might be about to come. 

Steve smirks, dipping in close again. ‘The girl said she wanted you as her hall pass baby, and her boyfriend said okay. Said he understood.’ Steve whispers, shoving his thigh between Eddie’s. ‘My little slut. Showing off for the crowd all night. You love it don’t you?’ Steve kisses down Eddies neck. ‘I bet a whole stadium of people would pay just to watch you, just to see you like this. You’d like that wouldn’t you?’ 

Eddie chokes on his spit, writhing under Steve’s hold. His cock rapidly hardening. ‘Fuck. Steve.’

‘You’re going to give me what all those fans out there were wishing for.’ Steve’s hard length is pressed against Eddie’s hip, grinding. ‘But it’s all mine isn’t it.’

‘Yeah, yeah Steve, yeah.’ Eddie’s feels on fire, head rapidly loosing space for any thoughts that aren’t Steve and the feeling of their bodies pressed flush together. 

Steve laces their fingers and lifts them so Eddie’s hands are either side of his head. ‘Think you can keep these still for me?’ He asks and Eddie nods, he does, he can. 

‘Good, don’t wanna mess up my hair.’ Steve winks and sinks to his knees. 

The clack of his belt being undone makes Eddie blink slow and breathe deep through his nose. ‘You want me to stop just move your hands okay? But if you want to be good then keep them still.’ Steve explains as he palms eddies cock through his boxers. 

Eddie’s eyes widen, he can’t look away, can never look away from Steve when he’s like this, in control and touching. Teasing and tasting and sending Eddie insane. 

Steve slides his mouth all the way down, Eddie buried all the way in his throat. Steve breaths deep through his nose, nuzzles into Eddie’s pubes - said he likes it, having Eddie inside him like this, powerful. 

Eddie balls his fists and wills his hips not to move, sweat beading at his temples. Eddie likes Steve like this too, feels powerless. 

Steve swallows and Eddie whines, throat tired from the stage but he can’t help it when Steve is doing this, can’t help anything when he’s around Steve. 

Steve pulls off and keeps working Eddie with his hand. Lips pink and glossy with spit. Eddie groans. 

‘Feeling good baby?’ Steve asks, smiling up at him, watching Eddie fall apart. 

He nods, arms aching from holding them up, but the ache adds to his high, helps him feel grounded and under Steve’s thumb. 

Steve kissed his tip and tugs his leather pants down further, fingers dancing over his balls and towards his hole. Petting at it and pressing into Eddie’s taint, making him see stars. 

‘Steve.’ Eddie whimpers, thighs shaking and tip pearling, starting to leak. 

‘What?’ Steve asks, innocent. ‘You said it was mine didn’t you?’ He pouts and Eddie wants to thrash, wants to scream but he doesn’t want Steve to ever stop touching him, playing with him. 

‘S’yours. S’yours, always.’ Eddie pants, eyes squeezing shut, leaning heavily on the wall to keep from keeling over. 

Steve pushes his thumb roughly into Eddie’s slit, gathering the cum to slide it over his cock. Eddie’s eyes fly open. ‘Good. Eyes on me baby.’ Steve coos. ‘Now I want you to imagine all those fans are seeing you like this, who think big tough rockstar Eddie Munson could dick them down so well, I want you to show them what you really are okay baby?’ Eddie nods, frantic, not daring to move his eyes from Steve’s face, his hands. ‘Show them what a little slut you are for me, my own little play thing, can you do that baby? Cum down my throat the way all those fans would’ve killed for tonight?’ 

Eddie moans, tensing as Steve’s mouth envelops him again, hot and wet and tight. Bobbing his head and hollowing his cheeks the way he knows Eddie loves. That sends him close, and reeling. 

And he does like it. Likes having all those eyes on him, the attention and praise. Even if they don’t really know him, just think he’s hot. that’s enough. It’s why he chooses pants cut extra tight, why he slices the ends off all his t-shirts, why he lets his mascara run and never wipes the sweat from his neck. He wants the crowd to want him, look at him and hunger for him. Even though they’ll never really know him. It’s okay. 

He has Steve, and Steve knows everything. 

Steve’s fingers move again, teasing and pressing at Eddie’s taint, at the bundle of nerves inside him. 

Eddie can’t help but move now, edging closer and closer. He thrusts forwards and rolls his hips, sinking deeper, filthy. Moves the way he does sometimes on stage, when he wants every pair of eyes on him, wants Steve’s eyes on him. Wants to be Steve’s own special rockstar, porn star. Steve’s anything. 

‘Oh god.’ Eddie moans, pushing in deeper and Steve holds him there, hand on his ass, other hand still knuckling his taint. Everything impossibly warm, impossibly close. Held together by this man on his knees. Eddie bucks once as much as he can, mind flashing with the movements of the night, Steves words, the lights and noise of the crowd. 

Steve squeezes and pushes and swallows and Eddie looses himself in everything. Spurting thick and hot down Steve’s throat. Chest heaving and eyes clumping with tears. 

‘’Tevie’ He whimpers, as Steve pulls away and surges up, ripping open the fly of his jeans and latching on to Eddie’s neck. Taking Eddies stiffened arms and fingers into his own. Wrapping them around his waist and holding Eddie close. 

He licks over a spot and bites, hard. No doubt it’ll be a bruise by morning, front and centre for anyone to see. 

‘Ah ah’ Eddie pants as Steve dips lower and bites again, littering his neck with blooms of red. Eddie feels how Steves fisting his own cock, bumping against Eddie’s abdomen, hot breath over his neck. 

Steve licks a long stripe from his collarbone to the hinge of Eddie’s jaw, sealing the marks and leaving a hot, wet, open mouthed kiss on Eddie’s lips. 

‘Wear your hair up tomorrow, want everyone to see.’ Steve pants, close. ‘Promise me.’ Se’s so close, the wet end of his tip slicking Eddie’s happy trail, his own cock giving a twitch. 

Eddie kisses Steve back, licks into his mouth and sucks on his tongue. Eddie eyes roll at Steve’s groan. ‘Anything, anything. promise.’ He whines, wants everyone to see, wants people to know. 

Eddie rubs his nose agains Steve’s cheek, still feeling stretched thin and fragile from his orgasm. Steves hot breath on his face. ‘Belong to you.’ He mumbles, voice high and breathy and achingly soft. But this is who he is, who he wants to be. 

Steve buried his hand in Eddie’s hair, tensing and pushing him into the wall, releasing all over Eddie’s hip and pubes. Steve pants for a moment, Eddie sinking into the warm pressure, mouthing at Steve’s cheek and squeezing Steve’s waist. Keeping them close. 

Eddie sniffs, burying himself in Steve’s neck, nuzzling and smelling him, kissing over Steve’s tanned skin. Always so pretty, so perfect. His Steve. 

‘Hey rockstar, you okay?’ Steve asks, pulling Eddie’s head out and ghosting his lips over Eddie’s fluttering eyelids. Kissing his flush cheeks and sweaty forehead. 

Eddie hums, a little loopy, still off in space. But Steve just keeps kissing him, smiling through it, nipping at Eddie’s dimples. ‘’M so proud of you Ed’s, the show was so good tonight.’ Steve mumbles, then sucks lightly on Eddie’s bottom lip. 

Eddie lens into in, kissing Steve back, he feels happy and settled and like his bones are all back in the right place, all the staticky anxiety gone from his brain. ‘You mean the show out there or the one in here?’ He asks, grin forming, still not opening his eyes. 

Steve pinches him on the hip and Eddie yelps, giggling. Steve kisses him once more, murmuring a fond little ‘brat’ before stepping away to get tissues, tucking himself back in his jeans. 

‘Come on.’ Steve claps, once Eddie’s clean and his pants are re-buttoned, ‘I want dinner.’ He says, walking Eddie out of the door, plastered against his back. 

Eddie goes willingly, ready for food with the band, to have a couple drinks, enjoy Steve’s hand on his thigh. Then, sleep. 

And then he’ll do it all again tomorrow. 

🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸

Tag List: @pearynice @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @scoops-aboy86 @chickensinrainboots @cheesedoctor @marvel-ous-m

#fun fact this one was finished first #eddie just really likes being Steve’s #and showing off :) #hotlunch #steddie #steve x eddie #steddie fic #sub eddie week #subeddieweek #sub eddie munson #<3 #my fic

[teejaystumbles]

Against all odds (part 7)

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6

This is all I've got so far but I figured I'd let you have it and hopefully I'll have more soon :3

**

Hob works at a news agency. As someone with hundreds of years of experiencing political and societal change he has a keen eye for news-worthy happenings. Often he can predict very well which events are important, which will have historical influence or be the talk of the nation for a long time. Hob edits his colleague’s articles and reports, chooses which ones are worthy of printing and which aren’t, tries to remove or at least mitigate the xenophobia and fearmongering in what he hopes are the last days of the Cold War. People don’t need fear to grow, they need hope. He thinks he’ll stop doing this soon, though. His name - Robert Goulding at the moment - pops up in too many places and he doesn’t like being recognizable for more than a few decades. He takes care to not become chief editor and stay out of the limelight but he thinks he’ll move on soon. Maybe he’ll take a break and live off his stock profits. Find a quiet place for him and his stranger, somewhere in the countryside, with a garden…

Hob shakes himself out of his fantasy and laughs at himself. Wishful thinking will hardly be of any use. He’s been wishing and hoping for more time with his stranger for so many centuries. Now it finally seems like he might get lucky enough to have regular contact, via journal entries, and maybe even visits. That is enough. He shouldn’t be greedy.

With a sigh and a silent curse that he stopped smoking he goes to finish his work so he can get home and write an answer to his friend.

In the evening Hob pours himself a whiskey and sits down at his desk, open journal before him. He looks over to his bed. His stranger had sat here last night, watching him. Hob swallows reflexively and takes another sip of his drink, trying to not let his thoughts go down a slippery, horny slope before he starts writing.

June 15th, 1989

Dear friend,

I am glad you felt you could come and visit me and that you feel safe in my presence. I consider it an honour and I want to assure you that I do not mind in the least if you stop by whenever you feel like it. I trust you. Feel free to come here anytime, no matter if I'm awake or not, or if I’m even here. If my place can be a retreat for you from your everyday worries or workplace (as I assume you are busy doing something somewhere), I would be very happy. Leave your shoes off the sofa, that’s all I ask. ;-)

But seriously, my home is your home. I mean it. I look forward to seeing you again as well.

Reading about your ordeal was horrible. I am so sorry this happened to you and that I didn’t hear anything about it. I would have moved everything between Heaven and Earth to free you, my friend, please believe me. You say the ones responsible have been punished but I cannot stop myself from imagining visiting vengeance upon them for your sake. To imprison you someone, anyone, for such a long period of time, in the conditions that you described, is barbaric and the rage I feel at the mere thought is nearly blinding.

I am deeply sorry for your loss and for all you had to endure. I would give you anything in my power to make you feel safe, dear stranger. If you ever need my help, please call me. I don’t know if you had any means to call for help, you probably didn’t, but please - should you ever be in any trouble or danger or in need of help, I urge you to call on me! I will come and help you the best I can, I will not allow you to be trapped ever again. After all, what are friends for, if not for helping one another?

Your problems with closed spaces and strangers are completely understandable and I would never hold it against you if you never want to meet inside a building again. I hope we’ll be able to find a suitable replacement for the old haunt, at least until you feel more at ease again. These things take time, at least for humans, and although I would not dare to insinuate that you are not more robust than the average human and probably not subject to the same physical and mental limits I’d wager a guess that you will need time to heal, my friend. I sincerely ask you to take that time. You strike me as the type to jump headfirst back into work and duty after getting free and that is not recommended, no matter what or how powerful you are. You were imprisoned for 80 years and subjected to torture, you cannot expect to be the same after that. No one should expect you to be the same, to not be changed by it or in need of healing and time to recuperate. 

I am only human but in my long life I have met a few other immortal beings, not all of them human but all of them with very similar needs and wants. I know you’re probably bristling right now because I dare to suggest you might be unfit for whatever it is you do but I hope you believe me when I tell you this only because I care for you - you need a break. Please, stranger, promise me you’ll take care of yourself, if you cannot let others do that for you. I would be happy to help in any way I can. Visit me at your leisure, I promise I will never turn you away, or look down on you for showing weakness. You have seen me at my lowest and I have always trusted you to still respect me after that. Just like that, I would never think any less of you for any of this.

I’ll be happy to help you learn more about humanity, get to know humans again. I am honoured that you have elevated me in your mind to something else but I am as human as they come. So if you like me, you can like other humans as well, right?

I will think of a nice place to meet and let you know as soon as I’ve decided. Remember, in the meantime this place is always open to you. Even including watching me sleep. ;-P

Stay safe,

Your friend Hob

Hob puts down the pen and skims over his lines. Yes, that’s not too forward but inviting enough to let his stranger feel safe and welcome. It’s a bit daring, calling his stranger in need of a break, but it’s the right thing to say and offer.

He nods, downs his whiskey and gets ready for bed.

#stay tuned for another dream😘 #dreamling #the sandman fanfiction #1989 au #teejay writes

[hippolotamus]

Tease Tidbit Tuesday 🐝

tagged by the always lovely and talented (and a tad ouchy) @bucksbiawakening @theotherbuckley @underwaterninja13 @wikiangela @jesuisici33

@spotsandsocks @bidisasterevankinard @diazsdimples @elvensorceress @tizniz

@thewolvesof1998 (be sure to check out their snippets and fics if you haven't) (p.s. shameless plug that I'm updating my tag list for tag days, fics, etc.)

SO, James gave me this wonderful gift of a ballet au snippet after I bullied him into suggested it. In return (and since I was already toying with it) I made him some Bridgerton sentences. Follows this snippet. Master list here.

Henrietta and Karen Wilson, along with their son, Denny, are a staple of the Ton. They’re said to be closely connected to Robert Nash and his wife, Athena, though Eddie isn’t sure exactly how. He’s familiar with both families, but hasn’t had much opportunity to mingle with them. If mingling was something Eddie engaged in.  “Hen!” Chimney opens his arms wide to embrace her and then Karen. “How are my favorite hostesses tonight?” Hen and Karen share a skeptical look before Hen turns toward Chimney, raising an eyebrow. “Delighted, Howard. What do you need?”  “Henrietta!” He holds one hand to his chest in mock offense. “Can I not say hello to my two dearest friends?” “No,” Karen and Hen answer in unison.  Eddie stifles a chuckle, drawing Karen’s attention.  “Oh, hello,” she says politely, extending her hand to him. “I’m not sure we’ve met. I’m-” “Karen and Henrietta Wilson,” Eddie interjects, taking Karen’s hand and placing a kiss there before releasing it. “Edmundo Diaz. But you can call me Eddie.”  “I could’ve done all that,” Chimney mumbles under his breath.  “And you can call me Hen.” She offers him a mischievous smirk, nodding towards Chimney. “I’ll forgive you for keeping company with this one. So, what brings you over, Eddie?” “I was hoping you could help me. Or, I suppose, my mother is hoping you can help me.” “Oh?” He gives both women an abbreviated summary of his situation, explaining his ‘need’ to find a wife.  “Well,” Hen taps her chin. “I don’t suppose…” She trails off, glancing at her wife. They share small nods as if they’re having a silent conversation.  Eddie begins to fidget, looking between Hen, Karen and Chimney. Finally, Hen looks at Eddie again.  “Does it need to be a wife? Or a spouse?” “I-” The world around him seems to go quiet, replaced by a loud buzzing that drowns it all out. What would make her think- “A wife. It has to be- a wife,” he stutters.  Karen gives him an almost sympathetic look, like she knows something he doesn’t, then grasps her wife’s hand. “I may have one suggestion,” Hen says, carefully. “Bobby and Athena are hosting someone this season. A... widow. No children of her own. But she is being accompanied by her younger brother who I understand is a bit- protective.” “And persnickety,” Karen adds.  Eddie breathes an internal sigh of relief. A widow could be ideal. Someone who might be able to understand his complicated grief. And it’s not as if Eddie has any liabilities, beyond his mother of course. Charming one sibling should be simple enough.

np tagging @stereopticons @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @actuallyitsellie @filet-o-feelings

@queerbuckleys @bi-buckrights @chaosandwolves @epicbuddieficrecs @eowon

@fortheloveofbuddie @giddyupbuck @saybiwithme @honestlydarkprincess @hoodie-buck

@indestructibleheart @kitteneddiediaz @thekristen999 @ladydorian05 @lemonzestywrites

@lizzie-bennetdarcy @loserdiaz @loveyouanyway @monsterrae1 @rmd-writes

@shipperqueen6 @spaceprincessem @statueinthestone @slightlyobsessedwitheverything @steadfastsaturnsrings

@the-likesofus @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming @vanillahigh00 @watchyourbuck @weewootruck

@welcometololaland @wildlife4life @your-catfish-friend @a-noble-dragon @mrs-f-darcy

@drowsy-quill and anyone else who wants to 😘

#well well well edmundo... what now??? #oh just wait babygirl #are you *sure* it has to be a wife???? #tumblr tags please just work challenge #hippo writes #buddie wip #bridgerton au #fic: come close (let me be home) bridgerton #with a splash of madney and henren and bathena #this is almost at 13k which is... insane tbh #and we have a ways to go folks