#wish i was better at words but you get it

[chrissshub]

KAMA SUTRA SESSIONS!

°❀°•༢ ❥ SYNOPSIS: When you get an appointment from a passing athlete who wants to better his game with women, who's better to answer the call than the resident sęx therapist?

°❀°•༢ ❥ CW: 8.7k words, told in first person, sẽx therapist!fem!reader, post timeskip!ushijima, not mentioned but ages are both 26, use of an oc, dialogue-heavy, pwp, peņetration, cunnilīngus, fiňgering, sqûirting, implied size difference, unprotected

°❀°•༢ ❥ DEAR READER, FROM CHRIS: So this was inspired by my most recent field of study: s*x and the kama sutra. and from my research and thinking "hm, who would have an interest in this?" is how this fic came to be. hope you enjoy!

In the life as a sex therapist, there’s some things that you hear, see, and even experience that add years to the career. 

 At first, I thought it was going to be a failed business move, considering that sex is seen as a taboo topic by some. I mean, it’s a process as natural as birth but people shame it with such strong resentment…like it’s an unimaginable evil that’s ruining the world.

I couldn’t help but to think my discouragement was properly placed. I was in a town with families, retirees, no one that would really need my advice.

That “failed business move” of a thought lasted all of a week. 

Thanks to the small pickett signs I personally had made and placed around the office building’s parking lot and nearby plazas, I had clients booking with me by the hour. 

Couples of all ages—some married, some divorced, many singles, even polyamorous groupings contacted my office. 

When people heard of a new sex therapist entering the area and started booking sessions with me, I could only wish to know what was going through their minds.

I’ve dealt with teary confessions about how wives have lost attraction for their husbands, husbands who come to terms with the fact that they don’t know how to please their wives. I’ve even gotten singles who’ve come in just to make sure they still know how to perform in the bedroom. 

In these past four years, I’ve learned that just because people shun the idea of sex and sexual education during the day, they’ll come on their hands and knees at night. It’s been an interesting ride, but I can proudly say that I’ve helped many people in the area rekindle their sparkle and to finally achieve their goals with their partners.

The days I’ve spent at the office were nothing short of fulfilling—and today was supposed to be like no other.

Supposed to, of course.

My day started out like normal; waking up in my bed with my eyes fluttering open. The first thing I settled my hazy squint  onto was the rays of sunlight peeking through my creme shutters, begging to illuminate my room. 

I pried my hand from underneath my pillow to grab my phone off on my bedside table, the screen greeting me with a single message: 

(1) VOICEMAIL FROM: Hana

Hana, my cheeky, bright-eyed, receptionist. She joined me when she was a freshman at the local community college, just taking classes until she figured out what she wanted to do with her life. Fast-forward to today, she’s a fresh graduate with a bachelors in psychology. 

She’s taken it upon herself to call her around 6 A.M every day with a debrief of the day ahead. When I asked her why she does it, the sweet girl simply told me the extra effort was the least she could do. 

Since then, I’ve bumped her pay high enough so that she can support herself by herself and haven’t pressed the topic a vowel further.

With my debriefing at hand, I sat up in my bed, sleep still lingering behind my eyelids. I have half a mind to cancel whatever appointments I have today and sleep just for an hour more. But when I looked down at the time on my screen, it was a reality I knew I couldn’t afford.

9:00 A.M.

My office opened in an hour and my first appointment always starts at 10:30…bless me.

“Okay, Hana, let’s see what you have for me,” I mumbled as I clicked on the awaiting tab. 

As my thumb pressed the play button, Hana’s voice instantly became my background noise for my morning routine—which began in the bathroom for a shower.

“‘Morning, Y/N! Hope you slept well! I have good news and bad news for you. And no, I can’t give you the bad news first because it’s intertwined with the good news. So for starters, you have a light day—one appointment! Bad news…and this is a first for us…this client booked you for a few hours.”

“Hours?!? What the fu—“

Just hearing that made me pop my head from behind the glass shower door. Clients usually meet with me for an hour, an hour and a half if needed but hours???

“I know exactly what you’re thinking because…what the fuck?? But when I explain more about him, I think you’ll be impressed.”

“Okay, you’ve got a bit of a celebrity on your hands today. This one is Ushijima Wakatoshi. He’s 26, a player for the Schweiden Alders…a professional volleyball team. He’s playing a game against our national team and is gonna be in town for a few days. He booked with you because, and this is in his words, he says that he’s a little “awkward in the realm of love and wants to improve his social skills and….intimate skills.” He also sent over test results…he’s clean, just to let you know . So…have fun with this one!”

And just like that, Hana’s cheery voice was reduced to naught, melding with the stillness of my bathroom. 

I turned off the water, standing in a foggy haze. There was only one thought in my mind: 

Well then, Ushijima Wakatoshi…let’s start the day together right.

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

“Hana! Oh my sweet flower, I brought your favorite♪!” I sang, entering through the office’s  front door.

Hana lifted her head from behind the monitor, her bright smile complementing my own. 

“An omlettle with cheese and hash browns on the side?!?” She squealed, jumping from her seat. 

“Mhm! Enjoy!”

Before I could take a step further, Hana ran to greet me with a hug, her curly black hair dusting along my chest. 

“Thank you, Thank you!” She cheered, stepping back from me. She quickly took the stuffed brown bag from my hands before returning to her desk. 

With a fading grin, I turned my attention down towards my top, a fitted rose dress shirt with just a few top buttons left undone. I wiped a few wrinkles away, shifting my attention down to my  black pressed slacks that didn't face the same fate. 

Still just as fresh and clean as when I left my apartment.

“So,” I began as I walked towards Hana. “How much do I have before our guest checks in?”

“Mmm, about 20. But Y/N…he’s so hot! I looked him up and wow! Like…I’m kinda confused how he’s having issues with girls. I’m sure the women at his matches throw themselves at him,” Hana gushed between a bite of her omelette.

I leaned against the rim of the desk, resting my red leather purse and my hips along the surface.

“Oh, you know how it goes. Looks can get you far, but it’s your words and actions that determine your success. I bet he does look good, but he probably needs more work on his confidence.”

“Ah, true. Well, you go tidy up your office and I’ll run the vacuum out here in a few,” Hana said, her hand shooing me away.

I grabbed my bag and giggled, “Okay, okay! But—“

I couldn’t even finish my thought when the front door tolled open, gaining a stare out of Hana and me.

“Um…excuse me…I’m here for Dr. L/N. I have an appointment at 10:30, but I just wanted to show up a little early,” the deep voice announced.

I turned my head to meet the owner behind such a voice, just for my eyes to be stunned at the sight.

A man, a tall one at that. He stood in the middle of the office with a straight face, staring back at Hana and I. His hair was a shade of brown unique to him only, brushed back to reveal his entire face. His features were strong—his jawline sharp, his cheekbones high, brows trimmed and clean,  his eyes glimmering like that of a polished citrine gem. 

Hana was right…he really was something to marvel at.

He stood with his hands behind his back, impassively waiting for someone to reply—or not, he really seemed unbothered.

I didn’t even need to guess what his physique could be underneath such proper garb. Those  muscles weren’t shy of peeking  beneath the navy suit he wore. The white dress shirt beneath was crisp, and no tie was in sight —which I guess is casual to him.

I bit my lip softly, I’ve never been intimidated by a man before, but this one made my face swell with a wafting heat. So this is Ushijima Wakatoshi…the name fits him perfectly.

Nonetheless, I had a job to do.

I rolled my shoulders back and began a few short steps towards him, the click of my heels slienced against the plush sage green carpet. 

There I was, standing before him. My height met him just beneath his collar—and that’s thanks to my heels. I held my hand out to him, my glossed lips curling into a rich smile. 

“Mr. Ushijima, it’s so nice to meet you! I’m Dr. L/N, but Y/N works just fine. This is Hana, my lovely receptionist.”

His hand was rough and worked, but slid against my palm like butter, his warmth melding into my touch. His thumb sat past my own, the rough pad swiping ever so softly along my skin. When my eyes finally eased from their shared smile as my lips, I couldn’t look away from him. 

His own gaze was captivating, almost entrapping me in a trace of just him and I. I watched as his lips curled into a faint smile, a brief flash of white meeting my eyes.

“Oh, Y/N, it’s wonderful to meet you! Please, feel free to call me Ushijima or Wakatoshi! I’ve been waiting for this appointment for a while now.. 

He broke away from our contact to give his attention to Hana, waving to her with his other hand.

“And it’s nice to meet you too, Hana! Thank you for your hard work!”

I didn’t need to look back to know the look on Hana’s face: she’s a flustered mess with her tongue  caught in a shudder.

“O-Oh…thanks, sir! It’s not without Y/N, though. I c-can tell you that you’ll be in…great hands!.”

Ushijima turned his sights back towards me, that muted curl of his lips growing into a full-bodied smile at last. 

“I sure hope so.”

I gave Ushijima one last smile before taking my hand away from his, my hands clasping together. 

“Let’s begin! I’ll bring you back and we’ll get on,” I announced, turning away from Ushijima. 

As I passed by the desk, I grabbed my bag and gave Hana a swift smirk, one she returned with a wink. 

Ushijima and I descended down the hall until we arrived to a room a door down from my office, room 165.

I turned the doorknob as I leaned against the white door, “Come on in.”

Ushijima nodded as he passed me, the faint scent of his cologne whisked past my nose. It’s rich—bergamot, some sage, amber, and even a hint of vanilla. That’s a good mix, and his body isn’t rejecting it, a man who knows his signature scent is a rare one these days.

The room I bought us to was of decent size—about the size of a child’s bedroom. The walls were handpainted by Hana and I some years ago, a soft peach with white carpeting. The furniture was all espresso colored, from the two leather seats that faced one another, the coffee table between the two, and the bookshelf that stood against the window.

It was a pretty comfy room, one that many current and past clients raved about. 

“Pick your side and get comfortable, we’re gonna be here awhile,” I teased, closing the door behind me. 

“I must apologize for that. I heard about you some time ago during a tournament and I’ve always wanted to have a sit down with you. And since I don’t come to the States often, I thought it was best to have an ample amount of time with you,” Ushijima confessed as he settled into the leather arm chair.

I followed suit, placing my bag onto the table as I sank into the seat. 

“Oh, don’t apologize! You’re actually my only client today, so we can take up all day if need be. I want you to leave here confident and more sure of yourself. Which brings me to my first question…”

I folded my legs over one other, resting my hands within my lap. My eyes settled over Ushijima, not with the same set that marveled at him just minutes before. This time, I excused his attraction for purpose, preparing myself to ask the timeless question:

“What brings you in today?”

Ushijima brought himself to sit up in his seat, his large hands drifting to brace his clothed thigh.

“Well, put shortly—I wanna get better with women. I can’t talk to them, and then I see my teammates—they can strike up a conversation with them so easily. And women do talk to me, but it’s just not…oh how can I put this…with substance?”

“What do women say to you?” I asked, leaning back into the couch.

“Just talk about my looks, or how impressed they are. I’ve heard it one too many times, it gets tiring. I know they’re just trying to make conversation with me by complimenting me, but those things just bore me. My teammates love that kind of attention, but it all seems pointless to me.”

“And why is that?”

“Because,” Ushijima sighed. “It’s just going to go nowhere. I’m not into hooking up, the thought bores me honestly. I mean, I feel that you don’t get the best of someone after one night, especially if your goal is just sex.”

“So then Ushijima—”

“Wakatoshi…please call me, Wakatoshi,” Ushijima intervened, a feeble smile creeping onto his face.

“Okay…Wakatoshi, call me Y/N. Doctor is just too formal for me,” I added. “But it still begs the question, Wakatoshi: What are you looking for?”

“As in my romantic goals or my type?” 

“Both work perfectly! Your interests do tie into your romantic goals,” I informed him.

Now, it’s so unbecoming of me to ask a client what their type is…but Ushijima is such a special case that I’ll overlook just this once.

After posing the question to him, Ushijima took a moment of silence to ponder, his eyes narrowing down on me.

“My type is…smart. Really smart. A put together woman with a good sense of humor. I’m more on the rigid side but I do appreciate a woman who can find joy in things. Her beauty goes without saying, so basically—a woman of substance.”

“Okay, sounds—

“What’s your type?”

Just the query to catch me off my guard…and pique my interest. In all my years, I’ve never had a client return any of my questions to me; I didn’t think Ushijima would be the first. 

My cheeks flickered with heat, but I found comfort within the moment by biting my tongue softly. My eyes were pinned on him, Ushijima still wearing that blank yet firm expression on his face— neutral eyes, brows stilled and his mouth free of any curl or twitch.

Just a peaceful face behind a stinging question.

“I don’t see how that matters…?” I said, staring at Ushijima through a razor-sharp squint.

“But it does matter. It’s not a hard question unless you make it one,” he continued. “What’s your type of man, Y/N? It’d be nice to know, since we’re gonna be here awhile together.”

A grin perked up onto his lips, the cracks of pearly white teeth breaking onto the scene.

 “Can’t I ask you some questions too?”

My lips broke apart between a brewing sigh, the tip of my tongue pressed against the gummy flesh of my cheek. I can’t deny him to be honest, we are stuck here for some time, and this session couldn’t continued as a one sided conversation forever.

“Alright, my type…my type…. I like a tall man, a nice athletic build, keeps himself well kept. As far as personality: smart, kind, respectful, responsible, and thoughtful. Thoughtfulness, however, is a big one for me. It’s nice to know you mean so much to someone that they would take actions out of that place of love. That’s quite admirable in my eyes.”

There was an air of silence between Ushijima and I. He sat still and I did the same. Our eyes hadn’t broken from each other either, yet the softening hues of olive green made me feel calm beneath Ushijima’s gaze. 

But this was an appointment, not a staring contest. I was the first to break the silence.

“A-hem..Um… well, I digress, let’s continue,” I choked out. 

I broke the eye contact Ushijima and I worked so hard to maintain with a simple blink, searching for the next territory of topic to enter. 

“So where did we—talked about types…but that’s not exactly helpful in the slightest. I know you wanted to address conversation too, but can you explain a little bit more?”

Ushijima nodded calmly, but that wasn’t all I got from him. Vunerabilty was one hell of a feeling, and it dusted the highs of his cheeks red. And as his skin began to run hot, Ushijima himself grew antsy, his hand coming to rub at  the nape of his neck. 

But…it was cute to me. The emotions I see on a daily basis are pride, sadness, anger—but embarrassment is a rare one that I can always appreciate. 

 “I…I don’t know how to flirt. It’s always awkward and I honestly feel stupid,” he mumbled, his stare pinned down at his pants. 

“I hear you,” I consoled, a faint smile crowding at my lips.

“It’s such an unspoken realm that everyone is expected to know how to do but with no explanation. Flirting is something that is also unique to each person. It  can be acts of kindness, giving compliments,—or the complete opposite. Some people like to tease, play rough, or even act cold as a form of flirting.”

Ushijima followed along with me, nodding his head every so often. 

“So then, what is the best way of flirting?” He asked.

“Well, I can’t say. —

“Let me rephrase,” He interjected. “What would a man have to do or say to you in order for you to be interested in him?”

“Wit.”

“Wit?”

“Yeah, I love witty, intelligent conversations. It could be anything and I’ll find interest in it. Just being able to express your intelligence to me—whether it be on topic you know or asking questions, I love it all. I guess to keep it short, the mind and how a man expresses his knowledge is what gets me interested.”

The presence of a faint grin lit up Ushijima’s face.

“That’s what it takes, hm…”

An air of enticement bled into the room and it shamefully claimed me as its victim. I’ll admit, I’ve never had a client as interesting as Ushijima. Aside from his genuine intrigue about sex and the ways of courting, he seems to have something more on his mind—and I wanted to know every single detail. But he plays along too well, thanks to that blank expression he wears so proudly. But he slipped up with that damn grin, now it’s my turn to play the next hand. 

I placed my hand on the open cushion beside me, the tips of my fingers drumming along the leather surface.

“Come sit, let’s do an exercise…just so it really sinks in. Maybe you’ll be able to use this as reference for the next lady that catches your eye.”

And just like that, Ushijima was swift to oblige. I was hooked on the sight of him standing from his seat, his hand toying with the buttons of his blazer. The white dress shirt he wore was finally revealed to me, the subtle hints of his muscular frame peeking through. 

His steps were calm and controlled, carefully trudging around the glass coffee table. Ushijima held himself with a confidence unmatched to any man I’ve met thus far. He was interesting to observe, and even more fun to tease. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t interested in seeing how far we could go, all kinds of thoughts were plaguing my mind. 

As he stood over me,  I had to bite back a smile, my teeth sinking into my bottom lip. 

This was turning out to be an interesting session, after all.

Ushijima placed himself on the couch at an arm’s length away, leaving an untasteful gap amongst us. Yet when my eyes had fallen on his stoic face, the man’s fair skin was budding with the innocence of pink. 

“Well don’t be shy, Wakatoshi,” I cooed. My hand patted at the spot just beside my thigh, hinting for him to move closer. 

“We are here together for quite some time, might as well get…a little close.”

With a firm nod, Ushjima bridged the gap between strangers to acquanitances among us, his body now resting snug at my side. He had yet to face me, as if he was embarrassed to do. I noticed that he kept his hands in his lap, his digits nervously fiddling around. 

I reached over to his hand, softly grazing along the back of his hand to ease his worries.

“Ushijima? You ready? We don’t have to do this, if you’re not comfortable—”

“No, let’s do it,” he huffed, his body turned towards me. “What kind of exercise are we doing?” He asked, turning his body to face me.

“Great! For the exercise, let’s pretend we’re meeting at…oh, I dunno, a bar. Do your best to try and ask me out on a date.”

“Um…Y/N…you do realize that the fact that I can’t ask anyone on a date is why we’re here, right?”

“Yes…I do, thank you for that. Use your imagination—a bar has ambiance lighting, soft music, drinks on rotation, play on the environment, and make a good impression, okay?”

Ushijima sat in silence for a moment, his eyes narrowing as the seconds passed. I could assume that he was thinking—really thinking at that. 

I almost pulled into my own daze of boredom, the color of the walls catching my eye—until the quiet mumble of his voice broke the stilled air. 

“Well…what do you drink at a bar?”

I tucked my leg beneath me as I shifted myself to give Ushijima my full and undivided attention. He mirrored me, turning so that we were both facing one another. Yet again, our eyes locked, unwilling to falter from the view we had of one another.

“I usually go for a glass of wine, I’m not a fan of heavy liquor.”

“Wine’s a good choice. Are you someone who pairs wine with food?”

I shook my head, “Not really. But, I do know that red wine goes best with some fruits, chocolate, and steak. Rosé goes best with grilled vegetables or salmon, and white is the best of both worlds.”

“Oh really?” Ushijima hummed. “I never realized wine could be so specific. Since you know so much, why not put your knowledge to the test?”

“And how are we gonna do that?”

A soft smile grew across Ushijima’s lips. He seemed to relax a bit–his shoulders laxed, his side now resting against the couch’s back cushions, he even shifted a bit closer to me too; all of which made me ease up too. I wasn’t feeling as guilty as I was before–if anything, I was pleased with the way our exercise was going.

Ushijima has such a nice, easy voice that greets the ear so kindly, and his eyes were just so alluring to stare into, I could sit here for hours just watching how his moss green hues catch the light of every hour. Not to mention that the scent of his cologne was finally welcomed into the scene, just wafting past my nose every so often. 

He had all the making of an ideal guy, so why isn’t he–

“I know a place near here, a nice restaurant with a wine cellar in the basement,” he led on. “ They have collections that date back years, and from what I know, the darker the wine, the richer…no, the sweeter it drips on the tongue. I’d like to hear your thoughts in a…professional setting, if you may.”

“I’d like that,” I nodded, a curling grin consuming my senses. “I’m sure you’d have some thoughts to tell me too.”

Ushijima shrugged, his hand coming to brace the pulse of his neck. “Honestly, there’s a lot on my mind I could tell you so much right now, but then…well…we might not make it to the restaurant. And I’m just dying to pour you a glass of wine, so…for now I’ll be paitent.”

I pushed my lips into a wading pout. I could feel my eyes softening beneath his gaze. He could find the time to tease me back while flustered like this…interesting.

“And what if I don’t have the same patience?” I pried, a sly smirk pressed onto my lips.

That’s when Ushijima sealed the end of our improv scene, bringing his hull of a body to overshadow my own. His lips came to fill the shell of my ear with an esteemed chuckle. His breath painted against my skin, awakening my nerves to greet him. I was helpless, at his every whim—and not a fiber in me wanted it any other way. 

“Then I’ll just have to tease you ‘til you break…right?”

He drew himself back gradually, our dilated eyes catching sight of each other once more. I was at a loss for words, my lips agape beneath the heat of shock.  At that moment, all I could think about what would follow—his lips crashing into mine, his hands bracing every curve of my body. I wanted to be under him, to have to stare up into those eyes to plead for relief from the stirring heat flaring about my body. 

But then again, this isn’t some magic fairytale…it’s an appointment.

“How was that?” He asked, his words breaking my sinful chain of thought. 

“Good,” I complimented, hiding my roused thoughts behind a smile. “You’ll most definitely get a date like that.”

“Well, I might have gotten the date, but I wanna be able to…y’know…”

“To what, Ushijima? You gotta be a little more clear than that,” I smirked. 

His skin began to flush itself of its tan shade in lieu of the trickles of rose dotting the highs of his cheek. 

“To…please a woman.”

“Please? Like…please and thank you? I hate speaking in code…especially in a professional setting.” I continued to press. 

If I had known he was so shy towards the topic of sex earlier, then we would’ve been able to ease into it. But for him to tease me like that…it’s only fair I return the gracious favor.

Ushijima’s eyes shot wide, a gasp breaking his lips apart. He was reluctant, but he gave in, biting at his bottom lip.

“Fine…I wanna know how to be good at sex…happy?”

“Oh, well to be good at sex is just the same as being a good lover. And I can show you how with this…" I trailed off.

 I quickly rose from my spot on the couch, setting my sights on my bookcase. A few steps brought in front of the shelved plethora of knowledge, eyes searching for the spine of the book needed for the moment.

"Ah! Here we are," my hand plucking out the book from its peers. 

“This…is the Kama Sutra. It’s an ancient Indian text written by the Hindu philosopher, Vātsyāyana Mallanaga; that explains how both men and women can lead rich sexual and social lifestyles. The Kama Sutra has become associated with sex positions over the years, but it doesn’t make it a heavy presence within the book.”

I returned to Ushijima’s side, seating myself beside him with the book in tow. I rested the Kama Sutra on his lap, allowing him to absorb the famed text. I watched as his eyes flitted about the cover, tracing every word to be found.

“Wanna flip through it?” I suggested, softly tugging at the book cover. 

“Yeah,” Ushijima nodded. “I’m interested.”

From the moment I opened the book, Ushijima and I were bound by the knowledge of the old world. The pages were written in english, yet the message was something that transcended all known languages. I went on to explain to him how the kama sutra devled into how sex between two lovers should be enjoyable for everyone, and how the pleasure of the woman would lead to ultimate satisfaction for both parties.

Though I’ve read it before for papers, presentations, and even for my dissertation, reading it with Ushijima was an experience that struck the strings of my heart in a special way. 

Maybe it was becasue he expressed a genuine interest in the questions he asked. Or maybe it was the cute reactions he made when things finally clicked. Or maybe it was the plain fact that I had someone beside me to read it with for once. 

From time to time, I took a few moments to study Ushijima’s reaction to his answered questions. He would blink a few times, as though he had to internalize all of what was said. Then, he’d peered over to me with a smile curling up the corners of his mouth.

Our chase of knowledge led us to the chapter on positions, the page’s title calling for Ushijima’s attention to be riled. 

“This chapter looks short. Where are the positions?”

“Well, the Kama Sutra actually doesn’t have any positions, it gives advice on how to select and personalize positions between lovers.”

“Huh,” he huffed. “…and what does that look like?

“Want me to show you?”

A blanket of silence fell over him, and he’s back to wearing that blank, sedated look on his face.

Damn, was that too strong? It was a little forward but I know it’s nothing—

“If it’s not too much…I’d be honored.”

“Well, then,” I grinned as I placed the book atop of the glass tabletop. “Let’s get started.”

Ushijima’s hand nuzzled along my waist, guiding me  over his lap to straddle him.

“You can just sit right on me, I think we’re getting a little closer, yeah?”

“I think we are, but we can get closer too, y’know.”

“And can we do that?” 

With that burning question of his, I was forced to bear the weight of what lust looks in his eyes—his pupils dilating, his eyelids growing heavy, and a mischievous smirk tracing his lips. 

“Do you wanna be on top?” I quizzed, toying with the top button of his dress shirt.

“Well I’m just here to observe, so I think you should be on top,” he said, leaning back against the couch. He brought me down with him, his hands nestled along my lower back. Just like that, my chest was smothered against the tauntingly chiseled mass of his own. 

My hands languidly skimmed along the face of Ushijima’s shirt. He held still as my touch consumed him and his senses whole, his lungs coaxed into a steam of shaky shallow, breaths. 

“Y’know, we have to find a way to make this position our own, make sure we fit each other just right,” I hummed, draping my arms along his broad shoulders. I lowered myself further into his groin,  pressing up against something hard…and twitchy.

That’s when I felt it, a thick bulge nested right between Ushijima and I. 

Men are so easy, it’s so cute. 

That stoic face of his was cracking right before my eyes—his eyes screwed shut, lips stunning with a puffy pout, his cheeks brushed with the innocent hues of blush. He looked so lost in his own heat, desperately squirming for a remedy. 

“Oh my-fuck, Y/N. What do you want from me? I’ll do anything, just say the word!”

I brought my thumb to tug along the plush of Ushijima’s bottom lip, his glossed skin clinging to my touch.

“Aww, where’s the patience you had earlier? I thought you were gonna tease me? But seeing you like this…it’s a good look on you too, Wakatoshi.”

A gentle grin eased itself into Ushijima’s features, fueled by the same salacious nature dotting his eyes. His hold over me shifted, his hand slipping down to grasp at the thick curve of my ass. He even found the chance to snake his hand between us to cup at the underside of my thigh. He kept me near, forcing his chest to curl into mine as he sat up once more. 

“I can guarantee you one thing, Y/N.” Ushijima huffed, his heavy eyes peering up at me. 

“Oh, and what’s that?”

“After me, you won’t ever need another lover.”

My hazy stare fluttered between his eyes and his lips, capturing the sight of It was almost likat was all I needed to finally be sealed beneath his trance. And because of that, I was able to press a soft peck onto Ushijima’s lips, breaking away just to whisper words of encouragement for his racing mind to catch. 

“Then prove it.”

Sharing my spite, Ushijima’s lips bared one final smirk before crashing against my own. His kiss told me all I needed to know–soft, puffy, and clinging to my own. The supply curves of his lips caught every pushing tide I offered, ignithing a ravenous intent deep within us both. 

His hands roamed over my body, claiming every curve, every inch of me for his taking. It’s dizzying to have him like this, a nonchalant man turned hungry for every crumb to offer. He was getting restless, his hips bucking for friction all over again. 

Maybe I was so focused on how dumb his lips had driven me or his hands tracing my body like a sculpture to his sculpture, but how he managed to have me pinned beneath him and smothered into the leather cushion is a mystery to me alone, but I wasn’t about to complain. 

How could I when he smothered me beneath the thick of his chest, sending my head into a dizzied frenzy But with the way his lips carried such care to dance with mine was enough for me to forgive him for being so needy. The same needy–no, greedy nature made him take control without any room for debate, and I surely wasn’t planning on starting anything I couldn’t finish.

“Mm, Y/N?” He mumbled, breaking our kiss.

“Hm?"

“If I remember correctly, didn’t the book say I should make you cum a few times? Through your pleasure, I'll find mine right?"

"Look at you, guess you really are learning. I think it did...so what are we gonna do about that?"

I didn’t need to hear the words to know what he had planned. I lifted my hips to help him, his hands stripping me free of my pants. 

Ushijima slotted himself between the couch and the table, clutching at my waist from below. 

His arms hooked around my thighs, his hands resting within the crease of my thighs, his filled palms squeezing at the plush fat. He seemingly ignored the fact that my underwear—the most annoying fact to exist—was still on.

Until his fingers began to trace along the pink lace. Slowly, carefully, and lazily he dragged the pad of his digit all over my panties, feeding some new whim of his. 

I watched him for a while as he led with his own agenda. Until I couldn’t sit still without some answer. 

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“Am I?” He retorted, his eyes darting to meet mine.

His touch burned with the thrill of tease as he gradually followed the edges towards the inseam of my panties. The pad of his middle finger was all he relied on as he carefully traced the puffy lips of my pussy. 

His finger sunk between my clothes lips, just for his discovery to be rewarded with the bud of my clit. That’s when Ushijima pinned his stare on me, antagonizing me into a game of endurance. 

Those aimless strokes turned into a series of sloppy circles, Ushijima claiming my clit as his latest victim in his game of taunts.

A whine cracked from behind my lips, something was stirring deep within me. He’s just teasing me but yet it was enough for my legs to tremble and my core to grow heavy with desire. How the fuck was he doing this to me?

A sigh from Ushijima broke my train of jumbled thoughts, bringing me back into the hellish scene. 

His breath fanned over the supple skin of my inner thigh, the heat inducing tremors to rake through my limbs. 

“Aw, I’m making a mess, “ Ushijima sighed. “Oh well.”

He drew himself back from me, fidgeting with the buttons of his shirt. He plucked his shirt open one button at a time, stopping just midway of his chest. 

I closed my legs, allowing him to tug my soaked pink pantiesf rom beneath me and off somewhere in the room. Ushijima returned to his post between my thighs—prying my legs apart for him to fill once again. His heavy arms curled around my thighs, his cheek nuzzled against the plumped skin. 

My face swelled with heat as he continued his marvels, his hand cupping my cunt. His thick fingers settled against my lips, spreading the fat supple mounds apart for him to see. 

“Oh, Y/N…” He mumbled, pulling my hips closer to his awaiting tongue. 

A scattered sigh tore out from Ushijima’s mouth, tickling my bare pussy with its heat. 

His heavy eyes were pinned to the raw sight he created of my pussy. I watched as his sights flickered over the scene, enticing his teeth to digging into his bottom lip. Determination painted his face with its fierce hues that it even fanned over to me. I’ve never had a man look at my cunt with such passion. It was enough for me to even succumb to the heat of it all. 

“Mm, fuck. Just lemme…” Ushijima trailed off mindlessly. 

Before he could even finish his thought, his lips were already busy with peppering kisses along my dewed folds. Kisses that were wet, sloppy and kiss carried the sweet, lewd cries of Ushijima coaxing my clit to join in his dance for two.

It’s filthy the way Ushijima works at my clit—his tongue lolls about my clit lazily, leaving glimmering soapy trails of spit to drip past my folds.

Every lash he delivers is a thoughtful one; the warm, soft flat of his tongue dragging against the puffy pearl, the sticky mess he’d made out of my clit clinging to the grooves of his tongue.

His lips are like velvet, left plump by the kisses we’d given on each just moments before. And to have those same luscious lips envelope my clit into a world that was nothing short of dizzying. 

Just the thought of his ministrations alone left my clit spry, the bundle of nerves twitching within the confines of Ushijima’s sloppy mouth. He busied himself with a soporific rhythm, suckling at the rathe bud just for kicks.

Ushijima peered at me through dilated pupils, those olive hues flickering all about my face. I couldn’t imagine the sight he had of me being committed to memory: puffy lips spilling with drool, close eyes screwed shut, and crude, whimsical curses ripping from my mouth. 

“Mmhm, talk to me, Angel. feels good?”

“Mm, yesyesyes! Oh fuck, just like that Ushijima!” my voice weakly keened. 

Awe glistened in my eyes as I watched him, mindlessly chasing an orgasm for my body to revel in. Yet, my drowsy lids were pinned to his jaw, bearing the weight of his hunger. Something came over me, a sense of adoration. So, I reached out to cup his jaw, grazing along what  worked so hard to pull an orgasm out of me. 

My thumb settled along the highs of his cheek, stroking at his flustered skin. He’s doing such a good job on my behalf, how couldn’t I thank him?

“Oh, that’s it. Y’re doing a good job, Ushijima,” I praised, sharing a weak grin. 

“Oh, I’m not done with you yet, pretty girl,” he chuckled softly.

In place of his lips, Ushijima brought a single digit nip at my entrance. He drew lazy circles around my slit, prepping me for what’s to come.

He’s gentle, easing barely half an inch of his digit inside. My walls grew lax for Ushijima, sucking  his long thick fingers to fill my pussy.

He made me so sensitive that just off that, I was whimpering out babbles to fall on no one’s ears in particular. Yet Ushijima still took heed to be kind with me.

“Shhh, just take me, baby. ‘m gonna go as slow as you want me to,” he assured. 

I didn’t feel his hand move from my thigh, but it did, reaching out for my own. Through my drunken senses, I managed to welcome his hand into mine, our fingers folding over one another.  

Bit by bit, Ushijima’s finger filled my gummy walls. He really was gentle, moving when my walls were lax and willing. He drove his finger to the hilt, only to slowly pull his digit back.

“Oh…fuckkk…s’ pretty,” he slurred, passing a glance back towards me. 

“Tell me where you want me.”

“Just curl your finger up--- oooh fuck!” I mewled, tossing my head back against the couch.

My hands followed suit, splitting away from Ushijima to grip along the couch’s frame behind my head. When I had Ushijima in my sights again, it wasn’t without a smug grin crowding his visage.

“So…is it here?” Ushijima asked, the pad of his digit lightly pulsing at my sweet spot.

“Mhm, right there. Just keep doing that.”

“Aww, Y/N, you shouldn’t have told me that—‘m gonna have fun with you now.”

Ushijima snickered as he returned to my clit, inviting the perked bud to melt over his tongue all over again. I trembled at the combined notions, sending an arch to overwhelm my spine.

“W-Wait, Ushi–That’s too much, ‘m already so close!”

Ushijima merely nodded, my words essentially falling onto deaf ears. Electricity licked all throughout my body, sending twitches to rattle my weak legs. I couldn’t take it, Ushijima’s finger toying with my sweet spot, he was setting me on course for the high of my life. 

“W-Wakatoshi! Toshi–fuck, ‘m cumming!” I cried, my lungs grasping for what air could enter. 

Ushijima’s finger plugged itself at my core, bringing a seizing crash to break over my body. Every ounce of me held firm, shivering to bear the weight of my chased high. My hips waved against the pad of his digit, riding out the end of my ecstasy off whatever friction would be found. 

Ushijima withdrew his finger from my cunt, leaving my poor hold  bare and gaping for something else to fill me. He brought that sullied digit straight to his mouth , sucking my honey off his fingers as he gleamed over me. Sporadic breaths chimed through the sex-stained air, my chest buckling to keep up with me.

“That’s a good girl,” Ushijima cooed. “Cumming so hard for me. Look at what you did to me.” 

Ushijima stood from my legs, his hand racing to grip at his crotch. And he was right—his pants were strained thanks to his bulge, the fabric just barely holding itself together.  But what caught my attention was the bubbly mess of precum foaming through his slacks. 

“Didn’t even touch me and you made me cum, should be proud,” he chuckled.”But that’s fine, we’re even…for now.”

“And what does that mean?” I asked, shifting myself to lay along the couch. 

“Let’s find out what I mean together.”

Ushijima quickly stripped himself of his clothes coaxing me to strip of whatever clothing was left on me as well. As he removed his clothing, my eyes hinged on his bare body—taut muscles highlighted his towering frame. He’s ribbed with strength chiseled to suit his build.

A thick trail of faint brown hair from his belly button guided down to the sight resting between his legs. He’s big, cock so heavy with lust that it needed no help to rise on its own. His cock was topped by a thick, fat reddened bulb, dribbling with glossy tears. His length was tanned, adorned with veins from the poor pressure building at his core. I watched as Ushijima settled himself between my legs, his dick slapping down against my tummy.

"See? Look how deep I'm gonna go," he smirked, his hand gripped at the base of his cock.

I laid my head on the couch’s armrest, lying in wait for Ushijima's next move. 

Ushijima placed his painfully hard cock to lay within my folds, my clit smothered beneath the weight. 

“I’m gonna go slow, okay?"

I nodded as I peered down to watch Ushijima nudged at my hole with the head of his cock, slowly prying my slit to greet his girth. 

“Fuh—pretty pussy’s taking me in already. Griping me s’ fucking tight,” Ushijima seethed, his hands griping along the couch’s cushions.  

My walls supplied Ushijima’s cock with gushing kisses, fluttering about his throbbing length. He kept working to bury himself to the hilt, dipping his hips to engulf my senses with nothing but him—his scent, his ardor, his fat bulbous heat fixated on  digging out my cunt.

“Y’re so big, Toshi! Fuck, go deeper!”

“Nuh uh, “Ushijima tutted as his eyes came to a screwed shut. “Don’t be so greedy, Baby. I got you, just…—shit—feel me, okay? His honeyed voice whimpered. 

I nodded softly, watching as Ushijima’s hips finally granted my wish. I couldn’t help but squeeze him in place, my walls fluttering around him. He was just so huge, filling out every inch of my pussy like it was nothing. My lashes grew heavy from the bubbling sear of tears lining my eyes. This pain—an intoxicating stretch sent me down a spiral of, being so full like this by Ushijima was something  I was enthralled by the feeling of being so full and stretched around him. 

Ushijima took notice too as he looked down at the unfolding scene. 

“Aw look, you took every inch! ‘m s-so…proud of you,” Ushijima huffed out. 

He leaned over me, pressing his chest flush against my own, resting his forehead within the crook of my neck. He brought his world crashing into mine, the heat of our bodies melding into one. I could even sense his heartbeat, thumping a languid aria into my skin. All I wanted to do was hold him, to have this moment last for as long as we could. But considering the throbbing mess he’d been reduced to, lust reigned over all other senses.

“I’m gonna start moving,” Ushijima mumbled into my dewed skin. “Just…talk to me, Princess. Just wanna see that face when you cum for me again…so fuckin’ bad.” 

He reeled his hips back weakly, striping my walls of the salacious fill of him. He drew himself just enough to have the tip just barely slipping from out of me, only for him to stuff every inch of him to the hilt. 

“T-Toshi! Ohmygosh!” I squealed, sending my hands to brace along the thick of his forearms. 

“I-I know. ‘m sorry! H-Here, gonna kiss it all better,” Ushijima groaned, his lips sloppily crashing into mine. 

Through all this, Ushijima’s hips rocked gently, working a cadence just for me. Slow yet deep allowed the red, weeping bulb of his cock to chip away at my need for dominance. Each reel of his cock enticed my walls to ease in his care, granting him to move that much quicker. 

And within those passing moments, the quiet squelches erupted into the lewd cymbals of clashing skin breaking into the air. Ushijima drove his cock to the hilt with ease. 

The same fate befell him, his quiet and restrained grunts now morphed into quivering sobs. His lips now dressed a heavy pout, dripping with his spit and carrying his weary words.

“Keep squeezing like that ‘nd I’m gonna cum."

“M-Me too, Toshi! I’m so close!”

I perched myself onto my elbows, urgent to close the valley left to exist between our two worked bodies. 

Not a word had to fall from my lawless tongue for Ushijima to soothe my wants. He leaned in, hunching over to blur our worlds into one. His hand snaked around to brace the nape of my neck, bestowing a gentle grip over me just to keep me close. He pressed his forehead flush against my own, beads of sweat dotting my skin.

Our lips remained poised in the heat of our budding passion, catching every whimsical babble we had to each other..

I couldn’t resist smothering him in a kiss, lazily catching every moan to ring from his chest. He was working so hard on my behalf, driving himself mad, sweaty, and depleted just to please me—oh, how lucky was I?

He broke away from our messy kiss, muttering some mantra that seemed to grasp his concern more.

He retreated back onto his haunches, pinning his sights on the messy canvas he’d made of my cunt. His thumb, the pad of his digit etching loose loops over the cherried pearl. 

I reached out to brace his wrist, pulling his hand to lay atop my tummy.

“Nuh uh, don’t wanna cum like that. J-just keep—fuck! Please don’t stop!” I sobbed, rolling my ensnared hips to match Ushijima’s tempo.

“Aww cumming already? Better make a mess or else I'm not stopping til you do.”

“Ooo-oh fuck, I-I  can make a mess! Just fr’ you.”

From that pledge Ushijima and I made, a fever dream broke out over the room. A dream fueled by sinful fervor that claimed any sense Ushijima and I had down to nothing. All we had on the brain was each other, doing our own part helping each meet our peaks.

As for me, he’s rendered me dumb and drunk over his cock, feeding my sweet spot with his deliciously thick girth. Dumb hiccuping babbles were all I could muster. My plushy walls were consumed by a familiar flutter, my inevitable high teetering on the edge.

“ToshiToshi, right there! I’m gonna—!" The word trapped itself within my throat, only to be replaced by a blubbering whimper.

A spell of heat licked at every nerve in my body. My eyes were sent rolling into the back of my head as my overwhelmed body coaxed my poor ruined cunt to weep,  a burst of tears gushing  over Ushijima’s flexed abdomen.  

“Good fucking girl, making a mess just like I asked. I wanna—fuck!—'m wanna cum with you too!”

The peak of my high left me just barely conscious, my eyes heavy with the sudden heft of fatigue. Through the thick gathering of my lashes, I gawked at Ushijima, his own nirvana finally crashing down around him. 

“Oh—‘m cumming! Y/N, I'm gonna cum!”

Ushijima trembled as his rutting hips came to a stuttering halt. He frantically ripped  himself from inside of me, the roused nerves of his cock sent into a twitching frenzy. Nuzzling the bulbous head along my inner thigh, the warm tears of white painted skin, followed by a clogged groan pouring from Ushijima’s gaping mouth. 

He collapsed on top of me, his lungs desperately heaving for air. I laced my arms around him, taking my digits through his unkempt hair as he came down. 

“Shhh, it’s okay, I got you. Just relax,” I hummed softly. 

Ushijima and I lay on that couch for a while longer, neither of us ready to move. As I combed through his hair, he kept a hand on my stomach, tapping away at some tempo to soothe himself. Just a quiet, peaceful reflection of the practices he and I had done.

He was right, I don't think I'll need another lover after that. My legs were practically useless, my throat sore, and my body was still reeling from the temors of my high. Even Ushijima still shivered from time to time. That moment was something straight out of a movie, calm, quiet, and filled with a growing fondness.

To my surprise, Ushijima was the first to break the silence with a question.

“So about our date, what time works—“

“Oh! You were serious about that?!” 

Ushijima nodded, “Well…yes. I know it was an exercise but I really wanted to take you out somewhere nice. And I actually do know a place around here with a huge wine cellar.”

 My head fell into a tilt as I studied Ushijima for a second. He’s back to his regular “stoic” self but this time every feature in his face was softened—his brows, his lips, his eyes; all carried a bout of sincerity. I simply had no heart to deny him, especially now knowing what kind of man he was in the face of rapture.

“Y’know what, Ushijima,” I purred as my hand reached to cup his cheek.

“I’d like that.”

TAGS: @po3ticb3auty @dabilovesme @ebiharachan @kenmasbimbo @pixelsanji @slaughterakira @woahhajime @pulchritxde-blog @hannas16 @champagnej @shuxjodie @just-yer-average-key @bontensbabygirl @tojitsukaisen @serenareiss @dejwrld @screampied @omniuravity @sweeneyblue1 @yukihime-mikeys-girl @kazusugar @missyasma @simpliheavenli @desiray562 @sleepilysworld @lovemegood @luvrdrop @nuttyunknowndetective-blog @tojibreedingme @widepipepaladiknight @nekoriots @rainycami @tonaken @holychocopie @bloobrryktty @hon3ybee-3 @dabis0bitch @your-next-daydream @mx-luvzz @akiko0-0 @whore02 @tojianddabisslut @dana-fite @downtownbabya @littlemochi @prettiestjade @luvvvjada @keijimilk

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[i-am-hungry-24-7]

[Hey, how are you?] Simon Riley*F!Reader

Ten years ago, Simon lost you due to his mistake, and he meets you again after these years of regret.

Hurt and comfort, Happy Ending

“Are you married?”

He always be asked when others see the ring on his finger.

“No.” He answers while taking another sip of his wine, letting the person realize it’s a topic they don’t have the authority to dig in.

He still remembers the vow he chanted as he put the ring on your finger.

The memory is as clear as the day you left the house, and he never saw you again.

It’s his fault, you didn’t shed many tears when he yelled at you, saying that you will never be able to free him from his nightmares, who do you think you are? a fucking philanthropist?

He knew he screwed up everything the moment his taunt escape his mouth.

No, No. I didn’t mean to say that, I need you, I love you, please don’t leave me.

He watched you lower your head, trying in vain to hide your sadness, but your heart was already shattered into pieces, by him, the man who promised to protect you by any means.

I’m sorry.

The words stuck in his throat when he looked at you stepping out the threshold with your belongings.

Please stay.

The greedy wish was buried inside his heart when you stopped for a second. “Bye, Simon. Take care.” you whispered, and disappeared into the aisle.

Ten years, he’s still unable to move on.

He brainwashes himself repeatedly, she will have a better life without you.

Yet he still opens his phone every time he finishes his therapy sessions, looks at your number, and just stares at the screen for minutes.

His thumb lingers on the “call” button but never dares to press it.

Hey, are you doing alright? I’m sorry, I want you back. I went to therapy after that day. I’m not the same person caged in his past anymore.

I miss you so much.

but how selfish he is if he interrupts your life now? Such a nice person like you deserves someone to cherish you nicely, and treasure you with their whole heart.

That’s why he now stands afar from you, watching you behind the veil of autumn’s breeze.

You’re still stunning, time doesn’t deprive your beauty even a bit.

He gazes at you for a long while, and when you turn around and spot him, it’s obvious that you’re in shock and come to a halt.

The world keeps moving, but the time seems frozen between you two, as you both set eyes on each other and never dart.

You head towards him as he starts hesitating to take the first move.

“Hey.” You look at him with a shallow grin on your face.

“Hey.” He mumbles.

The silence fills the air, but no awkwardness, he’s just too indulged in your presence, which he has been dreaming of for years.

Sorry for that day. How are you doing now? Have you married? Have a partner?...

He has too many things he wants to ask, but his thoughts are like matted wool, until his eyes land on the ring on your finger.

“You’re marrie—“ He questions without a second thought, but the words get cut off instantly due to his realization.

because the ring is paired with the one on his finger right now.

It’s not until you chuckle that he’s back to reality.

“Yes, I’m married, about ten years ago? to an idiot man.”

“Why did you marry him? he’s a bloody dork.”

“Good question. or maybe that’s the reason why I married him.” Shrugging, you then meet his gaze with a smile “How about you? Are you married?”

“Yeah, ten years ago, to a woman that’s too precious for me, so I lost her.”

“If you meet her again, what do you want to tell her?”

“I’ve improved. I’ve reached for help and now I’m not the same man anymore.”

“Anything else you want to say?”

“I miss her every single day, and I hope I can have her in my arms again.”

“Well, I don’t know about her.” you step closer to him. “But I’m sure she will love to have some tea with you as her first compensation from you, what do you think?”

He blinks at the hand you reach out at him, and slowly, he takes it into his palms, that’s befitting to drive away the chill.

Your hand fits well in his, like it’s made for him to serve it with all his warmth, and he’s sure that he will never let go of it again.

“My pleasure.”

a/n: lemme give Simon a fucking punch/j

#cod imagine #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #cod x reader #simon riley imagine #cod x you #ghost x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon 'ghost' riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader

[haoboutyou]

gym crush | choi seungcheol

fluff | 1151 words | suggestive descriptions. i’m y/n’s just really thirsty

an: please take this as a formal invitation. requests are open! (whether i answer on time is another problem)

you don’t like the gym. absolutely not. it gets super hot and humid inside, it stinks of sweat, and the big machines always intimidate you.

what to do? you’re just a girl.

you usually wouldn’t even phantom the idea of stepping foot into the gym if it wasn’t for your best friend. really, the only reason why you’re even sitting in one right now was because you arrived too early for your meet up with him.

that’s how you ended up perched on a high stool, legs swinging as you patiently look around while soonyoung finishes up his last few sets of… pull-ups? you’re honestly not sure. how he’s still chatting with you while completing his sets – barely panting through it, too – is beyond you.

“so i was thinking,” soonyoung casually starts, lifting himself like he was made of paper. “we can get dinner at the new italian place downtown? i heard they’re having a opening promotion right now.”

“mmh, sounds good.” your eyes are flitting all around the gym, trying to find something interesting enough to catch your attention.

“right, i almost forgot! seokmin texted earlier; he said he’ll drive by to pick us up later too.”

“really? that’s great.” you sound enthusiastic but your hunched posture informs soonyoung otherwise. at this point, your best friend can tell that you’ve tuned out of the conversation. he huffs at the way your eyes zone into the far corner of the gym, where the weight benches are. soonyoung scoffs more when he realises your eyes are trained on a very specific person, watching intently at the way the muscles on his arms bulge every time he lifts a dumbbell.

“yeah, he also said he saw mingyu running into a tree earlier… even said a rat fell on him and started pulling at his hair and controlling him like a robot. do you think the rat would make a better chef than mingyu?”

“wow really? that’s great.” your replies get progressively monotonous as you keep your eyes trained at the corner. yeah, now he definitely knows your mind has completely left the conversation.

your breath hitched as you watched the mystery man run a hand through his faded red hair, baggy t-shirt sleeves hitched up to reveal more of his biceps? triceps? never have you ever wished you paid more attention to your biology lessons back in high school.

everything about this mystery man has you swooning. the thick veins on his hands running up his arms, the way his eyebrows furrow in concentration, how the sweat glistening on his forehead seemed to cast a heavenly glow all around him. you can’t forget the grunts he lets out with every movement, entrancing you with his deep voice. gosh, even his hands are perfect. an angel has descended to soothe all your gym-related problems, converting you into a devout worshipper of his physique.

you’ve never been more thankful for soonyoung’s suggestion to wait in the gym.

soonyoung’s arms may be burning from hanging on the pull-up bar for too long, but he just couldn’t believe his eyes; your mouth is hanging open and– wait, is that drool?! is his best friend really drooling over a man in the gym?!? a laugh of disbelief escapes him as he finishes the last of his rep. soonyoung mutters a quick prayer of thanks to god for gifting him prime blackmailing material. he drops back to the ground and swiftly snaps a picture of you, in all your thirsting glory, before he picks up the rest of his stuff.

“y/n,” he calls out. “i’m gonna hit the showers and then we can go. you good staying here on your own for a bit?”

“yeah, yeah! i’m not going anywhere, don’t worry.” you wave him off, not even bothering to turn towards your best friend. soonyoung lets out another tut as he turns towards the gym’s locker room. that is, before a brilliant idea comes into mind.

“hyung!”

the red-haired man turns towards soonyoung’s voice. “hoshi, you’re going already?”

your best friend nods his head, grinning at how your eyes seemed to pop out at the way he was casually talking to your new-found eye candy. “are you doing anything tonight? i’m meeting seokmin and the others for dinner later, wanna join?”

“kwon soonyoung!” you whisper-hiss. “what the hell are you doing? you guys know each other!?” is that blush creeping up your neck he sees? the tips of your ears tinge so pink soonyoung thinks he can almost feel the heat radiating from them.

“thanks, but i’ve already got plans.” the mystery stranger shoots you a gentle smile, flirty (flirty?!) wink (WINK?!?) towards you. still, you can’t hide your disappointment; you would’ve loved to get to know this new-found work of art more.. “maybe next time? you can properly introduce me to your pretty friend then too.”

soonyoung thinks he heard a strangled cry from you, coughing as you somehow manage to choke on your own saliva. he chuckles at your suffering. “sure, hyung. i think she’d like that too!”

soonyoung doesn’t know what to expect when he finally emerges from the locker room cleaned and refreshed, but it definitely wasn’t you raining attacks on his sore arms and shoulders. seungcheol (he had introduced himself to you while soonyoung was gone– in fact, the two of you managed a whole conversation while he was gone (no, you were so shy and embarrassed you were barely able to keep eye contact with him)) waves at the both of you as you leave the gym to wait for seokmin to arrive.

you’re convinced the blush on your cheeks is going to be a permanent feature of tonight. it doesn’t help that it becomes the main topic during dinner with seokmin and mingyu, the other two boys cracking up at soonyoung’s dramatic retelling of your new-found gym crush.

(it also doesn’t help that you had a balled up fist under the table all night, hiding the hastily written phone number on a piece of paper that seungcheol had managed to slip to you while you were leaving, mouthing the words ‘call me!’ behind soonyoung’s back.)

-

bonus!

“remember when you couldn’t keep your eyes off me when we first met?” seungcheol swings his arm around you, broad shoulders almost engulfing you whole.

you groan, choosing instead to bury your head into your boyfriend’s chest. soonyoung cackles from across the booth. you have to physically restrain yourself from clawing him alive.

“hyung it wasn’t just that; she was drooling over you!” he wiggles his eyebrows, ignoring the daggers you were staring his way. blush makes its way up your cheeks, dusting them pink.

seungcheol laughs, planting a kiss on the crown of your head.

“if it makes you feel better,” he whispers in your ear. “you were my gym crush too.”

soonyoung almost falls off his seat laughing when you blush even harder.

#scoups #seungcheol #seventeen #scoups fluff #seventeen fluff #seungcheol fluff #choi seungcheol #svt #choi seungcheol fluff #svt fluff #˙✧˖° aiyu writes ༘ ⋆｡˚

[makelemonade]

OK hear me out dottore x pregnancy brain user and or other caracters? Like I have the sudden urge to read something like that

Dottore with a breeding kink- AFAB/FEM READER

OKAY lowkey I was kinda confused cuz I was like wtf is brain user HELPP uhm anyway i wrote it like he basically has a breeding kink- I’m at like the breeding but no pregnancy kink part I suck at writing pregnancy

IM SOOOO SORRY if this is not what u asked for like I feel like it’s so short and I could’ve down better but I reallyhope you like it?! <3

- I’d imagine that because he’s not exactly human and 100% the OG Dottore is like long gone he can’t actually get you pregnant but for the sake of being a segment I imagine they produce lots of cum sorry I do not make the rules

-my god he will fuck you for HOURS

-he’ll make sure you’re absolutely full of his cum and he’ll be imaging what it’s like to get you pregnant but for now all he wants to do is breed your needy holes

-I feel like he’ll definitely figure out how to get u pregnant one day

-it’s non-stop too.

-just woke up in the morning? lazy morning sex where he has to cum in u at least 2 times

-office sex? who cares if anyone can hear you guys! as long as he can fill you up that is all he cares about!

-he’ll put you in positions to make sure that you can see his dick bulging in you and that his cum can reach you far enough

-you will somehow be bloated with his cum

“Ngh- oh! D-Dottore slo-slow down!!” You whined and gasped as he fucked you harshly into the bed, your legs pinned down to your chest.

He didn’t slow down, instead somehow pushing his cock into you even more and pushing your legs further into the mating press, making sure his cum will reach you deep.

Not like it already hasn’t- he’s came multiple times and so have you.

There were tears of pleasure streaming down your face, the overstimulation making this all more sensitive and painful but painful in such a good way that it made you moan subconsciously for him.

He just laughed at your begs to slow down and leaned down further so that your legs were now over his shoulders as he pressed a kiss to your calf.

“My daring…this beautiful pussy is just begging to be filled. Do you truly wish for me to slow down? The faster I go the more you clench…seems your body betrays your words.”

#genshin impact #genshin fic #dottore x you #dottore x reader #dottore x y/n #dottore x female reader #female reader #afab reader #genshin smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #dottore smut

[ashersanity]

— “IT’S ALL IN THE FAMILY.”

— summary. because you — you stupid little fuck, should have known better than to assume the worst out of this sick family you’ve been unwillingly forced into from your parents unfaithful divorce. well, guess what? you were fucking right, and now — you only have yourself to blame, baby brother.

— content warning! incest, step-cest, dub-con at best, non-con at worst, brief mentions of bullying and violence, alcohol intoxication, manipulation, big brother whitney being a creep, whiny little sister kylar, daddy bailey being bailey, loser male reader, semi-forced blow job, cream pie, shit writing, no editing, no nothing and shittier plot with two disconnected scenes, went a little overboard with kylar. a little.

— word count? wait, you guys count the fucking words and don’t raw dog it in the notes app? like, real long, I guess. I mean, fucking long.

— asher’s note. “I did it purely for the sister fucking. @princesstokyomoon kept encouraging the filthy thoughts so I had to churn something out. something filthy — and I mean fucking disgusting shit, y’know?”

Divorces papers hastily signed away, the ink dotted onto the lines promising that this was indeed reality along with leathered suitcases packed to the brim. Family problems never were easy, much less when it had all happened far too quickly. To your parents separating, the familiar grip of your mother’s hand stringing you far away from the house you had grew up in, it all seemed like one bad dream. Unfortunately it wasn’t, no. This was the harsh reality of things, hands clasped on your shoulders as you were forced to introduce yourself to the man she had vowed to marry and the children he bore.

Fuck, if only your mother hadn’t remarried.

“This is stupid.” You muttered beneath your breath to which your mother, sharp as ever had somehow heard.

“Oh please, this is necessary. Unless you wish for us to keep on living in that cramped apartment? I am only doing what is needed for us to survive.” She sharply retorted back, not leaving much room to argue with as it was the truth. Your lives had been much more difficult since the divorce, selfish father that took everything else with him and went away to god-knows-where, probably off to spend it all in one go at the sleazy brothel in town. Filthy bitch.

Yes, it had been hard, but if you had been given one more year, finished school for real, graduated and got a job — Perhaps then, you would’ve been able to provide for the two of you and—

“Why don’t you introduce yourself, dear?”

Breaking out of your reverie, you had faintly registered then that you had arrived into this overly large establishment your mom referred to as your new home. Standing before you was probably the man she had fussed about so much during the uneventful drive. Dark, slicked back hair and stern eyes that dragged over your lips down to the curve of your throat, almost as if to criticize. His outstretched arm and hand stuck out waiting, that was probably for yours to shake which you reluctantly did.

“It’s nice to meet you, sir..?” You uttered coolly, enduring the firm grasp he had on your fingers till he finally was the first to pull away.

“Bailey.”

“Bailey.” You repeated back the unfamiliar name as if to slowly get used to it, knowing you wouldn’t.

“Whitney, Kylar, come down here and properly greet your brother.”

One boy — you assumed to be Whitney, a little older than you, stood at the top of the oaky staircase, perched over the banister. Ruffled blonde hair and sharp blue eyes hidden behind his fringe, eyeing you with disinterest as he made his way down the creaking steps and over to you.

“Nice to meet you.” He grinned, taking ahold of your hand in his with what was evidently a faux smile, one that didn’t quite reach his mean eyes that matched his father, a lingering streak of maliciousness in them. Even his grip, barely restrained in its force, threatened to crush your hand before ultimately letting go.

“You too.” Forcing a smile back, both of you knew then, the stifling tension that brewed in the air — Neither of you were going to get along here.

“Hey freak, its your turn.”

Another, you had barely noticed, a smaller girl scuffling about in the background, anxiously fiddling with the ends of her oversized sleeves, skittish green eyes purposefully avoiding your gaze whenever you so much as glanced her way. That must be the only daughter, Kylar. Cute thing she was, though your mind couldn’t allow yourself to continue that stray thought any further considering the implications that’d involve after meeting your soon-to-be-step-sister. Fucking get your mind straight, will you?

“P-Pleasure to meet you..” In contrast to her brother’s confident strides, she shuffled towards you before clasping your soft palms together in a hold, weakly shaking it.

“..Pleasure is all mine.” You replied, matching her weirdly formal way of speaking.

Well, she didn’t seem so bad compared to the rest.

The introduction didn’t last very long, lacking any real warmth usually found between two shared families merging together as one. It felt more stiff than anything though you couldn’t spare the thought to think it any further, an ushered murmur said to make yourself at home.

As you made your way over to your new room, hauling your hefty luggage up the wooden stairs, something within the depths of your guts stirred from the shared eyes that bore into the shape of your back, intently observing your every move.

The walls here felt unbearably bare.

Like the people that lived in it.

Ironically enough, your new room was much bigger than your older one, leaving little room to complain as you did when your mother had announced you’d be moving into a new place. All the reasons, no matter how good had earned nothing but a gentle shake of her head, dead set on her decision to drag you along. And to say you hadn’t even told Robin you’d be moving away, best friends since childhood that shared everything between the two, except for this apparently. Imagining his freckled face, worry etched across his features had you wanting to go back to the town you knew, knowing you couldn’t.

Sighing lowly, you sat down onto your bed, hearing the slightest crinkle beneath your weight as you felt an uncomfortable, sharp lump underneath it. That.. Reaching for the covers, you threw aside the thick blankets that covered the suspicious looking lump, revealing fresh packets of condoms haphazardly scattered across the sheets and an old, raunchy magazine displaying a cute-looking school boy getting brutally fucked against the lockers by his own bully.

Heat burned your face at the lewd sight, quickly shoving your little “gift” under your pillow so you couldn’t spare another glance at it. Fucking bastards and their sick jokes, “gifting” you shit like that.

You weren’t like them. Fucking perverts.

Were you?

Whitney was the first to change that.

From the first time he laid his eyes on you, you knew then what he thought of you, distaste apparent over his features, the slight curve of his upper lip curled into a snarl. It was obvious, your step-brother didn’t like you. Shit, maybe hate would be a more appropriate word for the things he’d do. Whitney had made it clear from the get-go, the empty names you’d call each other were utterly meaningless, rarely slipping past his own lips. ‘Little brother’. Fuck, you were a pain in his side more than anything else, dropping by unannounced into his life just like that simply because your shitty mother happened to divorce, meeting his dead beat father who then strung up with yours.

The blonde didn’t attempt to hide his obvious disapproval of your presence in his house, blatantly knocking his shoulder into yours whenever he passed by, mouth cruelly drawn into a snide grin as you toppled down to the cold, hard, wooden floor with a dull thud. The bullying didn’t stop there either, often encountering the delinquent in the school hallways, surrounded by his usual cronies that stuck to his side like a bunch of desperate, panting puppies, eager for his approval. They simply wouldn’t leave you alone, went through your damn locker too, ransacking everything that sat in there before carelessly throwing aside the remnants into a nearby trash bin, left to fend for yourself.

Weak, useless. That’s what you were to him, and nothing else. Soon enough, he’d get rid of you, have you snap and run away, it was merely a matter of time.

Well, that was the initial plan he had made up in his mind — Too fucking bad for the poor bully that life didn’t go always as planned, not when he caught you fresh out of the shower, worn towel snugly tucked around yours hips, a bit lower and he’d catch a glimpse of your— Fucking snap out of it, Whitney! The fresh droplets of water that’d trickle down the curve of your back, cascading over the smooth surface before gently dripping onto the fuzzy carpet below. Fuck. Didn’t help that he was staring a tad bit too hard, forcing himself to tear his gaze away from your bare form shamelessly displayed before him. You were doing this on purpose, weren’t you? Tryna get him all distracted, fill his thoughts with nothing but your thighs sticky with his cum, your lips lightly parted to obediently suck on his fat cock, lapping away at the beads of pre-cum that trickled over the curved length.

Knew he had cracked the second his hand had reached for his cock, fisting his dick for all it was worth, hem of his shirt roughly held between his teeth as he jerked himself stupid to the thought of you. His annoying little brother, fucking bitch, oblivious to the effects you had on him whenever he came with a stifled curse, several strings of cum that’d messily splatter across the curve of his toned stomach and his cotton sheets, staining it.

You, of course, lay ignorant to his frequent glances trailing over your frame, mistaking it for the hostility he had shown you over the past few weeks. You were partially right, except this time it was out of frustrated lust, cock stirring beneath his ripped jeans at the mere sight of his younger sibling now. God, not even the dumb whores that’d sloppily suck him off in the grimy bathroom stalls between classes did it for him anymore, eyes shut in a haze to imagine it was your mouth instead wrapped around the tip of his cock.

Dumb slut. Dumb fucking slut you were, didn’t know what he had in store for you. Take it as payback from having infested his mind with thoughts of you that stray to other thoughts and to other.. that’d eventually end in the same scenario, fucking your slutty mouth wide open.

Yeah.. Actually having you choke down on his cock didn’t sound half-bad now that he thought about it.

So why not make it happen?

It had been a mistake then to accept his offer over drinks, get to know each other better, he had cheerfully claimed with a friendly arm wrapped around your shoulder. Bullshit. Think he gave a shit about that? The only ache in his mind had gone straight down to his slowly hardening cock underneath his grey sweats as his plan was brought into motion, insistently pouring more and more of his friends stolen bottle into your cup until you had lost track of the exact number. Prideful as ever, you had gulped it all down, unrelenting despite the nausea that had crept in your guts and the dizzying blur of your vision.

A hint of a rosy flush had started to spread throughout your skin, lightly dusting your cheeks with half-lidded eyes intently gazing back at your older brother’s slouched form atop the cushioned couch. The dribbling liquid sloshed lazily in the glassy bottle that threatened to spill from your weakened grasp on it. TV faintly flickering in the background, playing some outdated show that had since long been forgotten by the two of you, leaving the remote abandoned on the coffee table.

“Cmon, don’t be such a baby.” Whitney would taunt whenever you hesitated in your sluggish movements, silently observing the rhythmic bobbing of your throat as you took quick shots from your half-full glass. Lightweight, he mused in his mind.

“I’m not a baby.” You retorted back with that fucking cute pouty expression he adored.

Fuck. That’s the look. That goddamn look of yours he was waiting for. Nothing better than some arrogant slut all fucked up, practically begging to be taken on his own fucking couch.

“Yeah, sure. Whatever you say.”

“Whitney?” Shit, the way you’d call his name all whiny too, slipping past your own lips. Had his cock twitch like fucking hell, painfully aching between his spread legs.

“Hm? What is it?”

“Why are you so mean to me all the time?? What did I ever.. What did I ever do to you?? I—I just don’t get it.” You hiccuped pathetically, stumbling over your own words, already half-drunk from the fizzling alcohol in your system.

Ah, so you didn’t seem to get it at all yet, did you?

How cute.

“‘Cuz I wanna fuck your noisy mouth, that’s why.”

“..What?”

Blinking back at him, you didn’t even get the chance to register or mutter out another word before he was upon you. Knees firmly planted to each side, increasingly aware of his encompassing frame that towered overs yours as his clothed crotch faced your drunken expression. If it had been any other time, perhaps the blonde would’ve paused then to greedily drink in the sight before him, but this was Whitney after all and he never liked to waste time on silly notions like foreplay, preferring the rougher options that came along with it.

So, fuck it all, right?

With practiced ease, he hurriedly shucked down the elastic waistband of his grey sweats past his hips, hefty cock confidently springing free from the constricting confines of the cotton fabric as it lightly smacked against the curve of his bare stomach. Fuck, you haven’t had the slightest idea how long he had waited for this. Merely a matter of a few weeks for you, though for him, your older brother was dying to sink his dick in that whorish mouth of yours. Looked like you’ve never taken a real cock either, snugly shoved down to the hilt of your inexperienced throat that he’d train till it became a sixth sense to you, gratefully swallowing down his salty cum.

Calloused fingertips tenderly dragged along the swollen flesh of your bottom lip, bloodied cut reopening from the time the bully had split your face open on his fists for the whole school to see in the busied courtyard on a particularly rainy day. Licked his knuckles clean too after that rough beating you took, savouring the heady taste of the crimson mess you left behind, groaning all the while. Had him stupidly hard for the rest of the day, itching to relieve some tension once he got back home. Great times, really.

Now would’ve been the time then, probably— to sputter out your firm opposition over this, resist somewhat. Maybe kick the motherfucker in the balls, satisfyingly watch him writhe on the floor in agony before scrambling up the ancient staircase to hysterically yell about how you nearly got raped by your aforementioned step-brother, to your dozing mother. Christ, that would’ve been the sane decision to do then yet, the bubbling drinks coursing through your veins had thoroughly taken its effect on you, blood rushing down lower to the wrong region, the sinking realization nearly making you bolt upright.

Fucking fuck, you were hard.

And Whitney hadn’t failed to notice.

“Shit, are you getting hard from this?” The delinquent snickered hoarsely to himself, making a show to lightly tap at the growing bulge underneath your own jeans, all too visible despite the rough fabric that covered it. “Should’ve known you’d be into it. Your body speaks for itself, y’know. You want this, you cock whore craving slut.”

No, no. This was all wrong. Must’ve been. You liked girls, didn’t you? Squishy cunts and fat tits you could easily slip your cock into — god. Didn’t like guys and if you did, your step-brother who treated you like nothing but shit would’ve been last on the fucking list.

But you secretly do like being used this way, don’t you? Baby brother.

“I’m n-not fucking—“ Attempting to deny the harsh statement, you cut yourself off from the sudden intruding tip eagerly pressed against your lips, flushed cock head leaking thickly and smearing sticky pre-cum all over.

It wasn’t an order nor anything else that hung heavily in the air, a simple gesture, a subtle thrust of his hips that had his actions speak louder than any words would’ve been capable of. Either you do it or not, the delinquent couldn’t have cared less regardless, always used to getting what he wants and by god, if he wasn’t going to fucking get this. Because the signals alarmingly ringing through your head felt faint in the face of this, shakily inhaling the musky scent of your big brother’s throbbing cock subtly twitching in response to your feathered breaths against it, dribbling out more translucent pre-cum that melded with the scarlet stain of your bloodied lips.

Out of your damn mind — That’s what you were. To even properly consider the implication at hand here. Yet your lips won’t stop from parting, from sticking your pink tongue out, clumsily imitating the gestures of those submissive girls in the cheap porns you’d watch underneath your thin covers late at night, shamefully enough. Always thought you’d be on the receiving end of that one day, dutifully patting at the soft hair slotted between your thighs however here you were, shyly pawing at Whitney’s naked hips instead to steady yourself.

All your fault, all your damn fault so shut up and take it, alright? Shouldn’t have led him on like that, now you’re only reaping what you sow, slut.

A delighted sigh softly escaped from the blonde as you finally gave his dick some much needed attention, experimentally running the flat of your tongue along his leaking slit, coaxing out more dribbling fat globs of pre-cum before slowly and carefully taking his full girth in the warm depths of your tight, wet mouth. “Ah— Fuck. Yeah, that’s good.” No way can he hide the barely restrained, high-pitched, almost needy whimper that threatens to slither past him as you so prettily suck him down to the base, slobbering all over his throbbing balls that has him huffing out a cursed moan of satisfaction, eyes rolling back. “F-Fuckin’— god.” Can’t help the sheer guttural groan that slips out from how tightly his baby brother’s virgin lips sweetly glide around him, the uncertainty in your movements making it all the more endearing as you struggle to take him all in, saliva dripping over your chin to land in varying wet dots on the cushioned pillows. Looking so damn pretty like this with a mouthful of cock, your big brother’s pulsing cock specifically. So don’t blame him then when his hips automatically snap back, slender fingers instinctively reaching for the back of your head to entangle themselves through the soft strands of your hair, ruffling it.

Felt more like he was plainly fucking your mouth than you were sucking him off, sharp, punishing thrusts meeting your open mouthed lips to drive himself deeper in that warm throat that reflexively tightened around his length whenever he hit a particularly sensitive spot — drawing another string of adorable, strangled whimpers from you. “Shit, you sure this your first time? You’ve got the mouth of a — hah, fuckin’ filthy glory hole.” Heat prickling up the nape of your neck at the direct statement uttered, the brief realization of your inexperience being taken away like this, from a blowjob. On the giving end. A first, that will mostly likely not be the only first after this, not when you’re unconsciously getting off to the thought for more in store despite your haze filled brain begging you to reason. Ah, fuck. He’s gone and got you stupidly cock drunk now, didn’t he? The bastard. Slurred mutterings tumbling out above you, almost hasty in how he handles you, wanting to truly savor this never-ending moment when his body can’t stop on its own, too eager to be fulfilled of this yearning pleasure he sought out from you firstly. Thankful for your lack of gag reflex that somehow has you forcefully endure the ruthless slam of his hips, struggling grip straining onto his thighs to brace yourself, promising to leave a fresh set of bruising marks on the tanned flesh.

“Gon’ be my lil’ cockwhore, huh? My fuckin’ slut. Goin’ to be so good for— fuck, big brother, yeah?” If treating you so obscenely like this grants him the privilege to have you beneath him, so stupidly on your knees then, fuck, is it goddamn worth it. Every multicoloured bruise splotched along the length of your legs to your elbows, inflicted from his unfortunate beatings took on at every turn. The cold indifference muddled across your features warping to an earnest scowl from simply acknowledging his presence alone, precisely what he wants. To finally recognize your older brother, the churning fear instilling within you, forced to submit to him and worship him rightfully so.

It’ll be more than that though, the sick realization dawning upon him of this opportunity handed to him on a silver plater, free of his taking, of course. Not some other replaceable slut he can find anywhere else by chance, but one forcefully bound to him whether they like it or not since what can you possibly do? Come running with tears in your eyes to your mommy about what your big, mean, older brother did to you? His father will certainly not be one to help you for that matter, that’s for damn sure. Who the hell will believe you then? No one. Fucking nobody. Inadvertently handing him free range to do whatever he so pleases with you, whenever, where the fuck ever. Oh, but it won’t only stop there, y’know. Ruining you fully for the sake of his own selfish pleasure, corrupt that naive view of yours that has you blush bashfully at a bunch of lewd illustrations plastered onto the printed pages. Soon enough, the majority of your days will be lazily spent in his room, leaking cock dribbling profusely from the kitten licks you’ll so cutely give him then while he absentmindedly scrolls on his phone, grinning proudly as you inevitably beg for more of him. And shit, Whitney isn’t one to disappoint either — he’ll have you rightfully rewarded for such behaviour, in public to be exact. Clip a nice, leathered collar around your neck along with a leash too, tug at it a bit to show off his newfound pet, his loyal little brother that sloppily sucks him off and happily sinks onto his hefty cock at a mere snap of his fingers. Drives him fuckin’ crazy merely thinking about it.

That’s right, suck on your big brother’s fat cock to selfishly earn his twisted love, his blind adoration and protection of your being. His pet. His slut. His beloved baby brother. His now blood, flesh and soul tainted thoroughly by him himself. Personally service him on your knees like the whore that he knows you are. Fucking get on your knees and earn it.

All too soon, despite wanting to stretch this further solely to ingrain the addictive noises of your stifled whimpers and drooling mouth inside his perverted mind, visibly struggling to take him all in as he shamelessly used your throat like some sort of flesh light stretched to the hilt — He can feel himself reach the brink of his limit, confident hips stuttering in their steady thrusts to greedily bury the tip of his quivering cock into the back of your throat one last time. “F-Fuck. Stay like that — just fucking stay like that.” He hissed sharply between strained curses, head thrown back like some cheap virgin whore who’s just received his first ever mind blowing blow job. The familiar overwhelming heat curling in the curve of his belly, like a coiling string on the verge of popping. Balls tightening in need, pulsing spurts of his fat load squirting out of the head of his cock to messily splatter across the surface of your pretty fucking face, ruining you for his own amusement.

Should’ve busted his load down your throat just to hungrily watch you swallow it down, though he supposes that the cum stained look adorning your pretty face is a sight to behold on its own, taking a good minute to appreciate the mess before him.

A blank, pristine canvas that he had helped ruin and stain with the filth of his very own actions.

It suits you, really.

“That’s a — hah, good boy.” Whitney heaved roughly between ragged breaths, the uncharacteristically gentle praise laced in his tone differing from his usually sadistic nature. If it weren’t for the sticky mess that obscured your vision along with the heat of his sweating palm placed flat across your forehead, you’d notice the strange fond, warmth that had settled into his softening gaze, a sort of reverence in of itself. “My good fucking boy.”

“So good for big brother, aren’t you?” He smirks knowingly at your hitched gasps of breaths, struggling so stupidly to form back a snarky insult as per usual.

Ah, he gets it now — really fucking gets it, glazed over eyes settling onto your evidently hard, twitching cock still tented pitifully against the front of your jeans, frantically humping at the air like some sort of rabid, horny and untrained puppy in heat, tongue lolling out. Aw, so fuckin’ cute when you’re cock drunk and needy for big brother. Makes him wanna do it all over again.

For that, he should be properly training you then.

“Whitney— fuckin’ cmon, please.” Whining so pathetically in a way that sends a jolt straight down through his spent cock, immediately standing up to attention once more. You’re really asking for it, fuck.

So damn cute, but so impatient too. Maybe he should fuck your virgin ass next, stuff it full of his cum and see what happens to that bratty mouth of yours then. Shut you up a bit.

“Yeah, yeah. I got it. Just— keep still for me.”

Well, can’t be having his little new pet go frustratingly neglected like that, can he?

—

Kylar, your precious little sister, all too eager to be the first, but the second to sink her mark into you. Convince you a bit more.

Needy as she was, she wasn’t as bad as the rest that inhabited this sick place you reluctantly called home, a flicker of warmth among the distant coldness that resided in this house. Much unlike her brother, the dark haired girl didn’t seem to dislike you in the slightest, often shooting you the smallest of smiles whenever you two briefly locked eyes at the dinner table or in the shared hallways by mere coincidence.

‘Course, she did have her questionable moments whenever you caught her rifling through your drawers, namely the ones where your underwear lay neatly folded in the cubicle space. Promptly muttering out an unbelievable excuse as to why she needed your boxers before bolting past your stunned self, red in the face. Or that time she had decided to curl up onto your bed, lovingly burying her nose into the warm, silken sheets that you slept in, relishing in that sweet scent of yours she’d catch a whiff of as you drew closer next to her at the table.

..Yeah, she certainly had unresolved issues, but it beat the constant poking fun at that Whitney would do. The rough shoving into the metallic lockers that’d clank heavily from your weight, the shared snickering that came along with it and the forced blow jobs that you had somehow eased into over time despite yourself. Fuck, why were you even thinking of that asshole?

Freak or not, she didn’t harbour any of the senseless cruelty this town had to selflessly offer and that was good enough. Enough so that you had found yourself increasingly spending more and more of your time with Kylar whenever you weren’t forcibly dragged along to some shoddy place your big brother roped you into, leaving the loner to her own whims for the day.

So it was no surprise then when the two of you grew closer, a little more than you had expected so to be the one sat onto her worn out bed, her hideaway — she’d call it, a moment of respite from the constant teasing she had to go through from her older brother. A means of escape, perhaps? And for you, it was no different either, all the same. Gladly listening to her overexcited rambling about this and that, about the fine mangas she had newly bought at the local, dusty library, the half priced anime figurines she had found on display beyond the glassy windows that separated them — matching pearly bracelets made of shiny gems and rocks carefully picked at the park she’d sow together to gleefully tuck around your wrist, whining sorrowfully at her own being too loose for her delicate wrists. Cute. Your little sister was real fucking cute, more so than you’d like to admit at times.

So much so you couldn’t ignore the growing knots in the pit of your stomach whenever your knees fortuitously bumped against each other, a sign — a silent, repetitive warning of your shared proximity that was crossing past the treacherous line of two mere siblings. Yeah. Okay. So you found her cute, so what? Big fucking deal. Plenty of guys found a girl cute, didn’t mean jack shit, didn’t mean they wanted to fuck her till she clenched pathetically around them, sniffling miserably at being fucked brutally by their kind, soft-spoken big brother they naively put their trust into. Right, that’s what you were. Nothing more. A responsible big brother she could certainly put her faith into since her other piece of shit brother couldn’t bother with that shitty role, something you’d curse him for on the daily. One she could seek out at a moment’s notice, spend time with to her heart’s content like a normal, unsuspecting relationship between siblings should be.

Not some perverted creep of a big brother who’d steal periodic glances her way, instinctively trailing down to the soft, plump and pink flesh of her parted lips, glistening sinfully from the wetness of her saliva — a habit she unconsciously did despite claiming not to. Gulping thickly, you hadn’t registered how her seamless chatter had ceased to a stop, deafening silence befalling upon the both of you as you stared at each other like some sort of stiff actors awaiting for the next act on stage. Wait, were you staring? Fuck, you were — and she hadn’t failed to notice by the looks of it, blooming flush adorning her pretty, pale cheeks you’d like to press gentle, reassuring kisses to, squeeze under the weight of your palm. Maybe have her spill a few stray droplets of tears across the rosy surface while you’re at it, make her cry the same way Whitney did.

Oh, you’re such a fucking bastard for this one.

“W-What is it? Do I have something on my face?” Her sudden squeak had you stilling in your tracks, twisting the spread sheets without meaning to from the timid pitch of her shrill voice. Look at her, trying to hide behind her torn sleeves in an attempt to draw attention away from her bashful blush, becoming a fidgeting mess under your gaze.

Fuck, no. It was more than that, Kylar. It was the pout of your lips that you wore, the black strands of hair that frames your face so beautifully, the exposed sliver of skin of your thighs from that short skirt you slipped on. It was all you, but dammit all — fuck.

“Hm? No, it’s nothing — really.” Liar. Drawing back to create a manageable amount of space between you both, a reminder not to act upon those disgusting urges of yours, better not to. Bad idea to be thinking with your dick, no man’s ever made a reliable decision with that one. Even so, Whitney did it with you and — nothing particularly bad happened, did it? Would it be so wrong, if you were to do the same? Selfishly grasp for what you so dangerously desire, drop meaningless hints here and there to care for her wants, such a gentler option than any other boy could ever treat your dearest little sister?

Would it?

Too lost in your endless train of thoughts, your eyes connecting with Kylar’s green own that bore with such intensity you hadn’t seen before, almost as if contemplating — no, waiting for something to happen. Though you couldn’t tell what it was, her actions were enough so to speak on their own with how she shifted considerably towards you, used mattress dipping from the creaking weight over the wooden floorboards. Ah, was she..?

“Ky—?”

Before your mind was even fully given the chance to process it, like the leap taken before the shuddering dip of a waterfall, her inexperienced, virgin lips clumsily smashed into yours, knocking the wind out of the both of you from the abrupt step taken by your little sister. Sweet. So sweet. Pink tongue tentatively swiping along the scarlet cut of your bottom lip, ushered gasps accompanied by startled squeaks as she timidly gave you what she thought was a simple kiss, but felt more like a pornographic make out session with how she so desperately shoved her tongue deeper. More. Wants more of this, more of that honeyed taste she yearned to savour, to finally enjoy while her other dumb brother so greedily took you away every time she wished to be the one at your side instead. It wasn’t fair, not fair at all! He’s so mean, so why does he get to string you along whenever he so pleases? Should be her, only be her to fill that solemn space. Only her, only her—

“W-Wait, wait— Kyl— fuck.”

As if struck by the weight of what she had just done, the loner recoiled back instantly in a fit of panic from the sheer brashness of her actions. Oh, how could she let herself so easily fall to such temptations? What if you hated her now? Or worse, were repulsed by the kiss? Wouldn’t be able to live it down then, quivering lips and bubbling tears threatening to spill freely down the length of her flushing cheeks from her overactive imagination running rampant — because she’d rather die than to have you loathe her so.

“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to— umm.. I thought that maybe you.. wanted me to—“ The girl stuttered uselessly, trailing off in an aimless direction only to shrink back in her unbecoming position. Silence only answered her in return which she took as the harsh reality of rejection, mustering up all the courage she possibly had in her lithe frame to at the very least subtly peek at the current expression painted along your face. Would it be anger? Disgust? Disappointment even? Surely if you hated it that much, you’d have plainly kicked her right off the bed by now, right? Storm out in a fit of shock and never so much as glance her way again.

The sight to greet her instead wasn’t an unwelcome one though — no, far from it actually, her gaze deliberately falling upon the blazing flush of your face down to the evident bulge straining painfully between your legs, palm nervously placed over it in a half-assed attempt to keep your dignity at bay — shit. It’s one thing to be kissed by your younger sister but to get fucking hard from it is like shameful admission on its own, a visceral reaction that could not be denied no matter what reasonable excuses may tumble from your lips. “..It’s fine. I don’t mind, actually.” You’re really no better than Whitney in that aspect, but when an opportunity presents itself, it’s only fair to mindlessly grasp for it, is it not? More worrying is the debauched idea that forms in your mind in regard to the enamoured expression worn by her wobbly lips and wide-eyed look, not-so-subtly rubbing her plush thighs together in a hint of arousal. Oh, so that’s how it is. If the sloppy kiss itself didn’t confirm it then this surely did, a surge of confidence rushing momentarily through your body at your next actions. “Like I said, it’s fine, Ky.” That fucking nickname again. Unable to stop yourself from dragging your cute little sister closer towards you till she consequently found herself comfortably placed onto your lap, blinking stupidly at the bold move done by her normally gloomy, big brother. Silly girl.

“Siblings do it all the time, it’s not weird. It’s natural.” Lying through your goddamn teeth with a certain ease that even surprises you internally, but oh, is it so worth it as her viridescent eyes glimmer brightly to the whispered reassurance in your casual tone, acceptance easily slipping through. “But Whitney and I don’t—“ She starts, only for you to immediately latch onto her endless questioning with the seed having already been planted, too late to fucking back out now. “You and I are different. I’m nice to you and you’re nice to me, so it’s normal if you want to. We can do that cuz’ everyone else does it, alright? You don’t have to be shy with me about it, Ky.” Every carefully measured word to make it seem as though this was the norm, knowing fully you’d be seen as freaks and degenerates by your peers attending the nearby school. Not that they didn’t already think so with Kylar, the rumors having grown out to such an unhealthy proportion that it pestered the poor girl at every corner in the narrow hallways. Poor thing.

So isn’t it your job as her big brother to make it all go away? Make her feel better.

“Shh, just let me..” Soothing circles rhythmically rubbed in a recognizable pattern along the edges of her skirt, repeated affirmations of want so as to ease her chattering mind over the possible morality of this newfound situation. Could’ve said no if she didn’t secretly desire this, though her actions seem to say so otherwise with how she earnestly complies, willingly tucking her arms to her sides to let your hands do the rest. Good girl. So docile, like a porcelain doll, sharpening breaths noticeably deepening from the careful tugs of her short skirt, revealing the confirmation of her depraved wants as the wet patch of slick soaking through her plain, white panties is bared. Your adorable little sister isn’t so innocent as you thought, is she? Contrary to her modest choice of underwear. Getting fucking wet solely from being leered at so openly by her step brother, even going so far as to spread her soft legs for better viewing.

“See? Isn’t it frustrating to be left all worked up like this?” Agreeing nods promptly interrupted by the press of your thumb against her clothed slit, such a sweet, hitched gasp elicited from the lazy circles traced onto her swollen, twitching clit. A free view of your younger sister’s scrunched up expression morphing to one of pure, unadulterated pleasure, scarred fingertips tightly clutching at the fabric of your shirt, but that’s the least of your concerns at the moment, really. “This good?” There’s no real need to ask when you can naturally rely on the shivering of her dainty figure, breathy moans of y-yes and feels good! along with the guiding of her needy fingers, flush against her slicked heat. A flick of your thumb is all it takes to have her turn into a babbling mess, bucking her hips up to meet your cupped palm, incidentally grinding onto your aching hard-on. “S-Shit, okay. Look at you, hah — so fucking wet already.” Barely able to discern the own pitch of your voice, but who the fuck is supposed to properly maintain their composure when your little sister is so prettily begging for your cock?

Effortlessly peeling away at the sticky fabric of her cotton panties, slipping it down the length of her legs to thoughtlessly throw away onto the wooden floor beneath. No time to fucking think, not with how cute her cunt looks, pink and dripping with slick coating the smooth surface of her inner thighs. Ah, and she’s already impatiently fumbling with your belt too, smiling so happily once it loosens to eventually tug your own underwear down too, leaking cock eagerly springing free from its restraints. “Want it that bad, lil sis?” Fuck, does it feel wrong to even be calling her so in your current predicament, yet so damn right too. The pleading nods, urgently clinging to your frame to press against as she grinds her sopping cunt along your flushed tip, whining whenever it knocks just right up against her puffy clit, squelching from the melding fluids. “W-Want it, want it inside, please.”

“B-Big brother—“

As much as you like the high-pitched mumblings of your dearest Kylar, there’s really only so much edging you can take before promptly snapping your hips up in tandem with her own, relishing in the slippery warmth that lovingly welcomes you, stretched folds accommodating to the sheer girth of your length. “Oh, fuck — Fuck, just relax for me. You feel so.. hah, so good.” Collectively sighing in relief at the intrusion of your pulsing cock squeezed so nicely by her constricting walls, having to steel yourself from the tight suck of her cunt snugly wrapped around your tip. “You’re doing so good for me, taking me so well.” Softly hushing her breathy whines intertwined with a mix of pain and pleasure, fingertips digging harshly in the tender flesh of her hips to guide her quivering frame up and down the length of your cock. Isn’t this what she wanted after all? Such a quick learner too, steadily bouncing to match the pace you had set, your wandering hands slipping past the hem of her loose shirt to greedily palm at her perky breasts which prompts another moan to exit her parted lips. Uncaring for the increasingly noticeable squeaking of the worn mattress when your little sis is so cutely riding you, doing her very best to satisfy your immoral urges and have you mark her slicked insides with your seed.

“What a good sister.. So good, aren’t you?” Cute, pink tongue poking out, begging for another messy kiss pressed onto her swollen lips which you dutifully oblige with another muffled groan. Sloppily planting your own against hers, treasuring every shuddered gasp to swallow down and stifling her open mewls. It’s borderline disgusting how desperate you are, savouring every thick inch engulfed by the sloppy suck of her baby sister pussy, reappearing briefly only to bury yourself balls deep once more into her defiled cunt. Isn’t really your fault with how fucking tight she is, is it? Barely grasping the reality of the situation which is the very high possibility of being heard from outside her room right this moment, but fuck — you can’t slow down, not right now, not when you’re already on the verge of spilling your cum deep inside. Damn Whitney, the bastard. Damn to hell your parents, your indecisive mother and her new husband, this is heaven itself right here. “I’m close—“ You huff out in a sort of warning, though it’s more of an invitation to Kylar, an opportunity for you to shoot your thick seed in her wanting hole, practically locking her legs tight around your waist.

Anything for you after all, huh? Her beloved. Her darling. You just didn’t know it yet! And to say it came true on its own, openly enjoying the sensation of your fat cock instinctively fucking into her tight, little sister hole. So close.

“Cum inside me, please. Let’s finish together, big brother. I-I’m close too—“

And that’s all you really need, precise thrusts upwards hastily turning into erratic humps to lazily grind against her ass, wanting nothing more but to see the dumb, drooling, fucked out expression painted across her adorable face, the convulsing of her cunt stuffed full of your length when she does have her first ever orgasm. A few clumsy circles drawn over her used clit is all it takes to have her cumming, slick trickling out of her fluttering cunt to drip over the base of your cock and stain the pristine sheets beneath. “Ah— God, you’re so fucking tight.” Fuck, fuck, fuck — Shoving the hilt of your cock as deep as possible into your little sister’s stretched out hole to rightfully mark her pink insides with your seed, spurting out thick, white strings of cum while you fuck yourself deeper into her womb and downright have her experience her first ever accidental cream pie too. It’s only then when she pitifully whines for you to stop that you do eventually pause, hips drawing back to stare in awe at the dribbling globs of cum spilling out of her sore cunt. “S-Sorry.” You mutter out apologetically with a sigh, the tension easing out of your muscles once she giggles softly in response to your strained apology. “It’s okay. I-I liked it a lot too.”

“Did you?”

“Mhm, I did.” Kylar sleepily mumbles back with drowsy eyelids, the exhaustion washing both over you all at once from, well.. all the movement involved. Let’s leave it at that, actually. Plus you deserve the rest, don’t you? Wouldn’t be fair to leave your adorable sister all alone in her twin bed without her older brother’s body to warm it with too, yeah? It’s fine to lay yourself down next to her curled figure snuggling closely against yours, drape an arm over her waist to remind her of your presence close by, make her feel secure and at ease. A silent, ushered promise to clean her up later once you two awaken, affectionately pressing a single kiss atop her head one last time before sleep takes her first. It’s your role to as the big brother, after all, isn’t it?

“..Good.”

#fuck #..fucking never. ever. writing this much within the span of a few days. ever. #FUCK SCENES WERE NASTY!!!! FUUUCKKK!! #I’m not beating the siscon allegations with this one #off to blow my brains out now #dol #degrees of lewdity #ITS ALL IN THE FAMILY. #whitney the bully #kylar the loner #bailey the caretaker #robin the orphan #big brother whitney #little sister kylar #daddy bailey #bottom male reader #top male reader #x male reader #character x male reader #asher writes

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

DOWN BAD- P.B PARKER

Pairing- Jock! Peter x Nerd! Reader (enemies to… lovers?)

Word Count: 4.3k

Summary: Peter Parker constantly nags you, and you hate his guts (naturally). So what better way to mellow the hate by being paired together for a class project? And why, if you hate his guts, do you want to touch him so bad?

Warnings: Making out, suggestive sexual content, dry humping, teasing, swearing etc…

Notes: It’s been a while, I apologize if my writing is a bit rusty! I hope you enjoy nonetheless, I had a fun time writing, and I really did miss it (Taylor Swifts new album really inspired me too!) I am using my phone to post for the first time, I hope to go back and format/ edit if need be when I can use my laptop again. Thank you for all the support :)

“Don’t look at me like that.” You huffed, eyes sharp as daggers as your cool gaze slid over to your target and struck its mark.

Peter Parker. Bullseye.

You could feel his lingering attention solely focused on you, a coy smirk upon his lips as he tapped his pencil against the wooden desk, its dull echo like nails on a chalkboard. A taunting metronome in the back of your mark as he leaned over to tower over you in his seat.

It was too close to yours for your liking.

“Like what pipsqueak?” he murmured, drowning out the professor's droning voice as he dragged on. You wished you could hit him with the textbook in your bag. Both of them, honestly.

“Like you’re thrilled for this. Don’t act like you like me.”

“Well I do like you.” He smiled, beaming ear to ear.

For him, it was the best day of his life. Getting randomly paired with “whoever you’re sitting next to, I don’t care.” (the professor's words, not yours), was a thrill for him, he got to pick on the quiet, shy girl more than usual.

Which would be a shock, considering the sheer amount he did already, always finding his way next to you to tease you, especially with and to his stupid jockey friends. This project was worth thirty percent of your grade. You couldn’t afford this.

“Well I don’t like you. So fuck off.” You heard a low whistle from behind you, a chuck alongside it from his friends. “Kitty has claws?” Peter whistled, eyebrow raising in mock surprise as you shifted your legs to the other side of the chair, angling away from him.

“Oh you’re in for it now Parker” Bucky laughed as you covered your ears in an attempt to drown them out. You felt like you were in middle school again, the way they mocked you. And what made it worse was that it got to you. Not that the jokes and remarks meant anything much, but it was just the sheer annoyance of it all.

You had thrived to be a straight A student your entire life, and in this class… you could feel them slipping. Taking a deep breath, you clenched your pen harder in your hand, pressing so hard the page snagged as you wrote.

You could still feel his eyes on you, flickering over from under his glasses ,his muscles flexing subtly under his blue t-shirt. You pretended not to look, and to not focus on the fact he was extremely attractive. You spent the rest of the hour doing just that, scolding yourself for any indecent thought you had ever had about him, ever. By the time the professor had snapped his laptop shut, the projector turning dark as students started to talk amongst themselves as they packed up, you had half a page of notes, max.

“I’ll be in touch.” he leaned down and whispered, hand lingering by your chair as he slipped by. “Fuck you.”

He just threw his head back and laughed, his friend group joining him as he looked back. And winked. You groaned. This was going to be three weeks of hell.

—————————————————————————

It was a Thursday when you got a text from him. An unknown number flashed on your screen as you lay face down on your bed, contemplating life and if this class was seriously worth it or not.

The buzz of the phone had your head snapping up, confused until it suddenly dawned on you.

Unknown: Think we should start brainstorming for this thing pipsqueak?

Well fuck, you thought, wanting to throw your phone across the room. This class wasn’t that important, right? (It was).

Taking a deep breath, you sat up as your thumbs started to fly across the screen.

You: Who is this?

Unknown: I’m hurt, pips. Truly.

You: I think you have the wrong number.

You smirked. Okay, who were you kidding… this was kind of fun. Kind of.

Peter: It’s Peter, you jerk. Are you really going to make me spell it out for you?

You: Peter who? Doesn’t ring a bell.

Good. Knock him down a few pegs. You giggled to yourself, quickly stopping once you realised why exactly you were kicking your feet like a school girl, for who exactly. You layed back down, head muddled with meaningless thoughts that jumbled as you waited for his response. Grabbing a stuffie, you hugged it close to your chest, feeling it rise and fall as you caught your breath, grounding yourself. Why on earth did this mean so much to you? Why did his texts, something so easily ignorable- suddenly a waiting game?

Peter: Ha ha, very funny pips.

You: How did you even get my number anyways?

Peter: Long story, I had to go on a bit of a hunt. A friend, of a friend of a friend, you get the point. I can be very persuasive ;)

Nope. You thought. Don’t give into this.

You: I’m sure.

Peter: You wanna come over on the weekend or meet at Braxston’s to start… brainstorming?

You: I don’t want to do anything of the sort, but if that gets this over with as soon as possible- then sure. Only one of us has a brain to storm anyways.

Peter: You’ll regret that pips.

You clicked off your phone, a ghost of a smirk on your face. His threat surprisingly didn’t seem like a real threat, but actual light hearted teasing, not the kind he often did.

Fuck. You were supposed to be hating him. You did hate him. It was only three weeks with him. You weren’t sure if you meant that with relief or disappointment.

————————————————————————————

It was disappointment.

You sighed, closing your eyes as you rubbed your creased temple. It was nearly midnight , and your books were still scattered across the desk you occupied, the library a ghost town considering it was a Friday night. Braxston library tended to be on the empiter side, which is why you preferred it. It was the oldest library on campus, smelling of old pages and cedarwood.

Sometimes, when you needed a break you would get up and run your fingers across the leather spines, or climb the ladder for a change of view of the stained glass windows. But tonight, you lacked the motivation to even bother standing. It had been a long night, filled with cramming and stress. Pen and highlighter stained your hands as you shook them out, cramped and aching. For the last hour you had solely focused on the final you and Peter had to pull out your ass, coming up with backup plans with the worry he would abandon you completely.

Topics, ideas, theories- god you didn’t even know anymore. Your body lacked caffeine, your iced coffee long gone. You grew tired of this mindless work, sliding off your headphones to admire the near empty room around you.

Suddenly, you wished it was completely empty.

Peter looked just as shocked to see you, eyes widening in surprise, backpack slung over his shoulder, hair ruffled and eyebags prominent as if he had fallen asleep and been startled awake.

“Pips? I thought we weren’t supposed to meet until tomorrow?” He made his way over to you, inviting himself to lean over you, on your desk. You stared up at him with a look of amusement.

“We don’t have to meet at all. It’s very bold you assume I’m here to see you, of all people.” you snorted. His eyebrow raised. “So who are you here to meet?”

“Two papers and exam prep. You?”

“More or less the same” he smirked, and you felt butterflies start to churn in your stomach. “Sounds like great fun. I’m sure they’re lovely.” you said, snarky comment slipping out before you could stop it, turning in your seat as you often did around him so he wouldn’t see the fluster and nerves in your demeanour whenever you were near him.

He leaned down, breath warm against the column of your neck. You couldn't breathe. You could not fucking breathe with him this close to you. The rich scent of his cologne made you dizzy, it intoxicated you as you stared at your laptop screen, as if it possessed the knowledge of the entire universe.

“You know, you can’t avoid me forever. You’re gonna have to confront me at some point, pip.”

“I don’t know what you're talking about” you snarled softly, staring at the coy, cockly little smirk you wanted to wipe off his face as he stood. “Sure you don’t.” He nodded his head towards your screen, with a wink.

“Good song.” he smiled, before he was off. You continued to stare at him as he walked out the door, not looking back once. Not a care in the world as he slipped on his own headphones, and around the corner.

Eyes moved down to stare at the pause button of your song, lyrics burning into your ears at the thought of him listening to it- and enjoying it.

Down bad, waking up in blood, staring at the sky, come back over and pick me up- fuck it if I can’t have us, I might just not get up, I might stay down bad.

You were so incredibly fucked.

———————————————————

You took a deep breath. Then another.

You let the crisp, cool night air wash over your burning skin, the faint smell of weed tickling your senses, probably from a house down the street. It was a pretty busy neighbourhood, full of students you recognized from afar on campus. You didn’t associate with the more ‘popular’ kids, if that could even be considered a thing past high school.

You tried to shake off the uneasiness that stuck with you, cracking your knuckles as you tried to prepare yourself to not only see Peter, but to interact with him- in his house. Most likely for hours. You knew you probably looked like a complete idiot out on the sidewalk, just near his house but you had to muster some form of courage.

All you could see was a faint light from what looked like the living room, and a light upstairs- you presumed his room. No sign of life other than that.

You thought of his words, how twisted they sounded. You can’t avoid me forever. You’re gonna have to confront me at some point, pip.

Fuck it.

You slipped from your hiding spot (from Peter, you were placed behind a large tree in his front yard, but god knows what people driving by thought), and mentally prepared yourself for his roommates to answer the door, making fun of you before he put the cherry on top. Practically leaping up the porch stairs, you raced to the door, knocking quickly.

You wanted this over and done with. Your palms were clammy and your stomach churned viciously as you heard footsteps near the door. It took everything in you to stay rooted to the ground and to not flee, and when Peter appeared, you feared the opposite.

How the hell you were supposed to move with him in that slutty little fit, a pair of grey sweatpants slung low on his waist, his v-line and happy trail on full display… his toned abs and arms in a little white muscle shirt… gods you didn’t know. You were sure your tongue fully hung out of your mouth like some cartoon character as you took him in.

“Took you long enough” he said with a snort, adjusting his glasses, sliding them further up his nose. You didn’t even know he had glasses. Did he wear contacts? Had he worn them and you just didn’t notice? No, surely that wasn’t the case, you noticed everything he did. It was like he sucked all of the air out of the atmosphere whenever he walked in a room. It was suffocating, in a way. Of course you had to look at him, and you were sure you weren't the only one.

“I was admiring the greenery.”

“I saw that. I wasn’t sure the maple needed to be examined that long.” he smirked, and your felt your fists instinctively clench.

He had saw you- so you were fucked and now the only logical thing to do was to run into a brick wall. Perfect, got it.

“I enjoy living in the moment, and I don’t take nature for granted.’ you huffed, attempting to compose yourself as he stepped aside, motioning for you to enter. “I’m sure. Don’t worry it was cute.” he smiled, running a hand through his tosseled hair.

You slid off your shoes, setting them next to his worn in converse you always saw him wear. You noticed the other pairs were missing, not even a missing lace to be found.

“Where are your roommates?” you asked as entered, surveying the open space. It was surprisingly tidy for a boys place, and you couldn’t help but smirk at the thought of Peter rushing around attempting to clean up before you came (though you doubted he would ever do that). Still, it was nice to think about.

Little traces of “boy” still lingered, silly little signs scattered across the walls, flags and such, empty, crushed beer and poking out from the recycling bins. “I kicked them out, because I figured you would want to contentrate.” he said.

Yeah like I’m going to be able to conetrate with you looking that fucking fine. Ha.

“That’s considerate. I’m surprised you even know what that is, Parker. I’m impressed.”

He snorted, throwing a little look back your way as he lead you up the stairs, presumably to his room. “I’m surprised you know how to walk up stairs. You have Bambi legs.” he teased, mocking your clumsiness. You cursed him internally. Maybe out loud too, judging by his laugh.

You tried to stifle down the butterflies. You were not about to flirt with him. You were not about to let your developing feelings expand. You hated him. He was mean and he was an asshole.

You were simply here to get this project done. That’s it.

“You’re an asshole.”

“I know.” was all he said, turning down a hall to an open door, light glowing faintly- beckoning to you. You appreciated his refusal to use the overhead light- not that you’d tell him that. He’d probably look at you like you were insane.

“I see you clean for girls you bring over.” you noted, observing his (surprisingly) decently clean room.

“Bold of you to assume I cleaned. Maybe I’m always this tidy.” he smirked, arms flexing over and behind his head as he sat down in his office chair, man-spreading as he stretched.

You tried so hard not to stare. And failed miserably.

“I would’ve thought you cleaned up for ladies you bring to bed.”

His eyebrows arched. “Should I have prepared then?”

Something like churning fire burned in your belly, slithering lower and lower.

“Don’t start with me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it pip.” he smiled coyly, knowing he had gotten you flustered. “May I?” you nodded to his bed, trying to ignore your feelings as you sat down. Fanning your skirt out, you tucked your legs in before opening your bag, attempting to cover your thighs with your bag as much as you could- his cool gaze staring lasers into your bare skin.

“So… if we have to base this on a creature in the wild…”

“Jumping straight to the point aren’t we?” he asked and you frowned in confusion.

“What did you want me to do foreplay or something beforehand?” you asked, your word choice more than intentional. You swore a little pink tinted his cheeks as he swiveled around.

“Right to it then. Okay, I was thinking spiders. Specifically their venom and social behaviours.”

You blinked. Jesus okay he had thought about this. This was not what you were expected.

“Elaborate Parker.”

He smiled. “ From what I’ve seen, not a lot is known about the venom entirely. From a predator-prey aspect.. I’ve mainly seen stuff on specific components evolving to target specific sites on cell membrains of prey tissue, we could work with that to start. Maybe expand on the social aspect and evolution.”

You were stunned. This was… more than you could’ve hoped for. Suddenly you felt bad for all the doubt aimed towards him over the few days leading up to this meeting.

“Hmm. I like it.”

“Did you have any ideas you had brewing in that genius brain of yours?” he asked, making you blush internally.

“I had some stuff just in case, but it was just random jots I’m not too proud of.”

He scoffed. “You came prepared with backup stuff?!”

You just shrugged. “Do you blame me?”

“Kinda.” he laughed. “Start thinking of me more highly pips. I even have access to a brown widow, we could do some experiments.”

You winced at the thought of actually studying a spider up close, but it was part of the job. Whatever could get this done the fastest, and you had to applaud him for providing some of your own evidence you could actually showcase.

He caught your wince, and you could feel the teasing start to start. It was like bait for him, he loved it. “The spider may bite, but I won’t. That is, unless you want me too.” he winked, and you fought the urge not to chuck your laptop at his handsome face.

“You’re gross Parker.”

“Oh I’m sure you think I am. Doesn’t make a difference to me.”

You were going to strangle him. “Let’s just focus and get this project done as soon as we can, yeah? Please.”

You riffled through your bag, grabbing different coloured pens and your notebook, skimming through your random thoughts and jots.

“Whatever you say pip.”

“Start researching Parker.” And that was that.

—————————————————————

A few hours had passed, and so far you were quite impressed with how much the two of you had gotten done. For the most part, the two of you had stayed on opposite sides of the room. If he wanted to make a move, he wasn’t physically doing it, and his roommates still hadn’t come home yet.

Though as the hours passed, he had made his way closer to you- ever so slightly. From his desk he nudged over closer and closer, his laptop landing in his lap as he worked.

“What source are you working from right now?” you asked, not bothering to cast your gaze up as you continued to type, fingers flying over the keyboard as you bit your lip in concentration. You failed to notice his eyes darting between your lips and your breasts that poked out slightly as you slouched over, licking his lips hungrily.

“Some research paper. Here.”

You let out a little oomph in surprise as he plopped down beside you, sprawled across his bed as he enveloped you in his makeshift fortress. He stared at you with such longing you felt faint, having to stop your work to pull yourself together.

Fuck.

He nodded towards it, and you realized you had been staring at him longer than you intended, forgetting about the paper completely. “Oh, yeah okay let me look.” you murmured, taking the laptop from his hand to slide it across your lap, the fan whirling softly, the warmth of it adding more coals to the fire you felt already.

He was still staring.

Please look away before I want to kiss you. Or do more then kiss you. I’m supposed to be hating you, stop please.

You tried your best to read and concentrate, but it was next to no use. All you could focus on was him, his fingers drumming on the comforter near your thigh (what man has a comforter anyways?!), and his gaze on you, that was heavy with something. Want, perhaps? Lust? Or you were delusional. Very possible.

“It’s um, it’s good. I like it, I think there’s lots of good… stuff here.”

“Good stuff huh?” he asked sarcastically, a smirk plastered across his face.

He knew. The fucker knew you were down bad.

“Yeah. You know what I mean.” you grumbled, staring back down at your screen.

“I do know what you mean. Do you know what I mean?” he asked, hand inching closer and closer to your thigh- teasing you. You took a deep breath, grounding yourself.

You could push your hatred aside for just a few minutes. It was okay, just this once. Right?

You bit your lip, and fuck if that didn’t turn him on even more. Nodding to him, as if he could speak to you telepathically.

Yes, this is okay. Please touch me. Just a little, even is fine.

“Maybe you should explain a little more, Parker.”

His fingers skimmed the edge of your skirt, warm to the touch as they stroked your skin softly, just a whisper of him lingering. Goosebumps lingered in their wake, and you pushed your laptop off to the side, not caring where it landed on the bed. Just not next to him.

“How much more?”

His voice was low. Deep. Needing. You wanted more.

Another stroke of his fingers on your thigh, closer to where you wanted him the most made you shiver, toes curling. His gaze never left yours, never faultered. Instead of its usual lightness, his teasing and bullying- his eyes were dark with lust. Nothing but his full attention was on you, and you couldn’t help but shudder as he leaned in closer.

Another hand landed on your thigh. “Yeah?” he asked, voice rough as you nodded quickly. “Mhmmm..- oh!” you let out a little gasp as he swiftly grabbed you, swinging you over to straddle his lap, tossing you as if you weighed nothing.

You hated that you found it hot.

He smirked, leaning forward- so close you could feel his thudding heart with a small hand gesture sliding across his chest, could feel his breath catching. Just a small little gap between his lips and yours.

“You’re going to regret this.” you murdered, fingers curling into his shirt, twisting the soft fabric.

“I won’t. Will you?”

“I might.”

His smile grew.

“ I still hate you, you know.”

“I know. And you look so damn hot when you do.” He pulled you closer, fingers digging into your skin, needing you closer and closer despite the two of you practically forming one being.

A clash of teeth and tongue happened, rough and harsh- full of hate and need. A hatred for your need for him. Why did you need him? Of all people?

Because he was so fucking fine.

A hand slipped under your skirt to cup your ass, squeezing it slightly. You ran a hand through his hair, tugging on it as your hips moved on their own account- causing a groan to slip from his lips.

You’d do anything to hear it again.

“This is so wrong.” was all you could moan as his lips worked their way down your neck, tracing your jaw before nipping at your earlobe.

“I don’t do right, pips. You know this.”

“Mhm. But you hate me.”

He laughed against your skin, and you rocked your hips again, a little slap to your asscheek making you jolt.

“Whatever makes you sleep better at night, pips. Whatever you want to think.” he sighed, massaging the skin as you toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him in for another kiss.

You needed his lips on yours. You didn’t want to even try to decipher what his words meant, your head was foggy with want. You were slipping into a puddle of bliss, finally letting the restraint you held on a tight leash go- freeing the want and pure desire.

Yes, you wanted him. Yes, you hated him. And yes, he teased you. It hurt- but this didn’t. This was a soothe to his constant jabs, a salve to the wounds he caused.

“You feel so good. I want you so bad.” you confessed, causing him to moan again.

Yes. Yes, please.

“You’re killing me.”

“Good. It’s payback for the way you treat me.” you smirked, kissing him again. Hard, fast, rough. Mean.

Until he just… stopped.

Pulled away slightly, making you raise an eyebrow with confusion. His cheeks tinted slightly pink, hair messy and eyes wide with excitement, eager to keep going. To go further. So why did he just- stop?

“Parker?”

He smiled coyly.

“Don’t we have work we need to be doing?” he asked sarcastically- and you felt your stomach drop. He was teasing you. He was doing this just to get under your skin, to leave you high and dry and needing. Knowing damn well nothing could possibly get done now but him.

“You- you just want to get back to work? After that?”

“I want to do the dirtiest things imaginable to you, pips. I want to do so many things. But if we keep going and get nothing done, you’ll regret it and hate me. If we get work done, you’ll hate me too. I rather you hate me but feel secure with this, at least.” he murmured, brushing your cheek with his thumb.

It was tender, and you couldn’t help but lean into his touch. “So you just, want to work? Did I do something wrong?” you asked.

“Gods no. But it’s too easy if I just give it to you like that. You know me, pips- I tease. Maybe if you’re good and get more work done we can have some harmless, regretless fun.” he winked, sliding his hands down to your hips, picking you up again to toss you gently on his pillows, kissing your hand with a wink as he stood to go back to his desk.

Oh you were fucked. So, so fucked.

“I heard that.” he laughed, and you buried your head in your hands. This was going to be a long three weeks indeed.

#peter parker #andrew!peter x reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker smut #tasm peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfic #tasm peter #tasm fluff #tasm andrew garfield #tasm smut #andrew!peter fluff #andrew!peter imagine #andrew!peter parker #andrew!peter smut #andrew garfield #andrew!peter fanfiction #spiderman fic #spiderman x reader #spiderman fanfiction #spider man fic #peter parker spiderman #tasm fic #tasm fanfiction #andrew spiderman #spiderman smut #spider man fanfiction

[mirage-aera]

•°. *࿐ Late night calls || JH86

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : ANGEL - Toby Mai

Jack Hughes x Reader

Synopsis: Days when you're apart are always tough. They get lonely without your other half. Nightly calls make those days slightly better. Especially when he falls asleep after a tiring day.

Word count: 822

Masterlist

Your phone starts ringing. Jack’s contact name shows up on your phone. You answer the call and the familiar sound of the call getting connected chimes. “Hi, baby.” Jack’s tired voice rings out through your phone. You get comfortable in bed before replying. “Hey. You looked great today. How are you feeling?” You ask softly after praising him. He lets out a low chuckle. “It’s a win, so I feel great. You were watching? I thought you said you were going to be busy.” You hum in response. “I was.” You pause, a cheeky grin forming on your face. “But I happened to be watching when you scored.” You can already tell he’s rolling his eyes at your remark. “I’m glad you were watching for a few seconds.” He retorts. You laugh, “come on. I might be busy, but I’ll always be watching you play when I can.” He huffs. Unbeknownst to you, he smiles behind the phone. He’s immensely grateful that you always manage to watch him play, whether that’s on the TV or laptop, or when you show up at the home or away games sporting your devils’ jersey with the number 86 and the name Hughes.

He yawns quietly. “Thank you for watching. Wish you were here though.” He says softly. “Want to switch to video call? I want to see your pretty face.” He adds. You chuckle but press the camera button, requesting to change the call to video. He instantly accepts. His face fills your screen. He shifts in bed before propping his phone up on an extra pillow. He smiles when he sees you wearing his shirt to bed. “Are you tired?” You ask quietly, concern laced in your voice. He blinks a few times, trying to blink the sleep away. “A little. I’m fine though, I’m not falling asleep on you.” You raise an eyebrow. Knowing him, he’ll be doing the exact opposite. “Alright, if you say so. If you’re tired you don’t have to stay on call with me. We can talk some more in the morning.” You offer him. He immediately shakes his head. “I want to talk to you. I miss you.” He says stubbornly. Your heart swells at his last comment. You miss him too, a lot. You’re not apart from each other often. You’re usually by his side whenever he goes away on his roadies. However, this time you had some affairs that you needed to deal with. Hence why you didn’t go with him.

You talk for a while as the night becomes darker by the hour. You can see that he’s starting to fall asleep. “You’re tired. Go to sleep.” You try convincing him. He hums, “in a little bit.” He says stubbornly yet again. A couple of minutes pass while you’re talking about your day. You realize it’s getting quieter and quieter on his side. The occasional hums and shuffling from him turn to pure silence. You look at him through the screen. Only to see his eyes closed, arms tucked into him, and his mouth slightly agape. He’s sleeping. He actually fell asleep on you. Even though he so stubbornly told you he wasn’t going to. He did end up doing the opposite. You don’t hang up on him and you certainly don’t wake him up. He had a long day, so it’s no surprise he fell asleep. It’s oddly peaceful having him sleep on the other side.

You continue scrolling through social media on your phone. Having the video call minimized in the corner of your screen. Eventually, you feel yourself growing more tired. Sometimes you hear the occasional snore coming from him while he sleeps. You close the app and return to the video call. “Good night. I love you.” You mumble quietly, to not wake him up. He lets out a murmur but stays asleep. You cover your mouth to minimize noise as you let out a chuckle. You leave the call and place your phone on the dresser. You close your eyes. Before you know it, you’re asleep yourself.

The next morning you’re greeted by a flurry of texts from him. You smile to yourself and shake your head. You hope this boy never changes. He’s the reason you wake up with a wide smile.

I fell asleep

Sorry baby didn’t mean to

Did you sleep well at least?

I’m going off to morning skate in a bit

Remember to eat well since I know you like to skip it even though it’s not good for you

I’ll call you later

I love you

You put your phone down after replying to him. You get up and start getting ready. You should get started on your day. He’s returning home in a few days. You can’t wait for that day. You have so much to tell him that a phone call won’t do justice, and you’re sure he feels the same way.

#hockey #nhl hockey #nhl #nhl x reader #nhl fic #nhl players #nhl imagine #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes one shot #jack hughes imagine #jh86 #new jersey devils #nj devils #drabble #fluff

[daydreaming-nerd]

Young Love and Old Money (Cassian x Female! Reader) Part 11

Young Love and Old Money Masterlist

AN: Once again sorry this took a while! I'm about to graduate college (which I'm not happy about) and I've been packing and moving stuff home. Also guess who finished Iron Flame? ME! (Yes I know that i'm so late to the game. Graduation remember) but hey y'all drop your Xaden Riorson requests ;)

Summary: She was the most beautiful woman in Prythian, sister to the High Lord of Night, and now she is the soon-to-be wife of Eris Vanserra. Despite her many titles and her aura of unattainability, Cassian can't help but fall deeply in love with the princess of the Night Court. But will it be enough to stop her impending wedding to a man who is sure to destroy her from the inside out?

Warnings: mentions of injuries and infertility, smut, violence.

Word Count: 7,238

The next 24 hours I was bedridden, not by my wishes, but my Madja’s and well, Cassian’s. For most of those hours I was asleep, in Cassian’s arms of course. Getting him to do anything but hold me was a miracle. Not that I was complaining, but when it came to matters of him needing to eat and such I was very adamant that he do so. 

Neither of us spoke much, both of us just wanting the peace of each other's company. When I would wake up I would tilt my head up from Cassian’s chest to see if he was awake or asleep. According to him I was a sleep magnet. 

He would ask me if I was cold or hungry, but mostly he asked how I was feeling, which thankfully was better. My body still aches from the bruises left on me. But since the bloodbane was now out of my system the scars from both of my stab wounds were healing nicely. 

I was lying on Cassian’s chest, enjoying his heartbeat when a timid knock sounded on the door. I lifted my aching body to turn and find my brother poking his head through the door, just like he used to when he would ask me if I wanted to sneak out for a midnight flight to the candy shop. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked, shutting the door behind him softly, like the sound would be too much for me to stand. 

“Much better, still sore and a little tired from the blood loss but at least I’m not near freezing now,” I smiled at him, Cassian rubbed my shoulder as if I needed that small ounce of warmth the friction provided. 

“That’s good,” Rhys said, putting his hands behind his back. “If you’re feeling up to it, I’d like to talk to you.”  

“Yes I just woke up so I’m feeling rested,” I say moving to sit up on the bed, my joints protesting. 

Cassian’s hands found their place under my arms to help lift me into position and then fluffed all my pillows so I would sit comfortably. When the Illyrian made no effort to get out of bed and leave the room, Rhys cleared his throat, getting his attention. 

“Yes?” Cassian cocked an eyebrow, clearly oblivious to what Rhys wanted. 

“Can I have a word with my sister alone?” Rhys asked. 

Cassian just rolled his eyes dramatically and moved to get out of bed. Before he left, he leaned over me and placed a kiss on my lips, one I greedily took as there was once a time I thought I would never taste him again. It wasn’t until my mate sauntered out and closed the door that Rhys spoke again. 

“That’s going to take some getting used to,” he laughed sitting at the side of my bed. 

“What is?” I ask, shifting in my seat to get more comfortable. 

“My little sister making out with my best friend,” he explained, nodding towards the door. 

“We did not make out,” I scoff, slapping him in the arm. 

“Any kind of kissing I see from the two of you might as well be fucking,” he laughed again, shying away from my hand. “Now enough of that, I wanted to apologize.” 

“Apologize? For what?” I furrow my brows, wondering what my saint of a brother could possibly have to apologize for. 

“For being a bad brother, for not being there for you after we escaped, for even suggesting you marry Eris,” he sighed, casting his head down like he couldn’t stand to look at me. “After we got back from under the mountain I started thinking about how I did everything wrong. How if father was still High Lord that never would’ve happened. That’s why I went looking through his things, and that’s how I found the contract. I thought that if I was more like him, I could keep us all safe. I could keep us from having to endure Hybern’s wrath like we did Amarantha’s. I spent too much time thinking about my own mate and my own trauma that I didn’t even stop to consider yours, and I’m so sorry.” 

“Rhys,” I breathe, feeling my heart break as I reach for his hand. “You aren’t a bad brother, you’re far from it. You’re the best big brother I could’ve ever asked for. I never gave you the option to be there for me after we got back, and I never made an effort to be there for you. We both messed up,” 

“Why didn’t you tell me about Eris? You know I would’ve stopped the whole thing right then and there if I knew he had hurt you like that.” He asks, gripping my hand tighter, his brows furrowing as he searches my weary face for an answer. 

“Because you sacrificed so much for me, Rhys. You sold yourself into slavery to keep me from the exact same fate. It’s a debt I never thought I’d be given the opportunity to repay.” I take a deep breath, letting the weight of my own words hit me. “You saved me, I owed you Rhys. I would’ve done anything to help you. I’m sorry that it didn’t work out, that we won’t have those armies anymore.” 

Rhys’ violet eyes glisten with tears as he takes in every word I say. There’s an overwhelming  guilt that fills the room. One that ebbs and flows from both of us. For the first time in 49 years I felt like I was truly seeing my brother again for the first time and what a lovely sight it was. 

“Don’t you dare apologize y/n,” Rhys says, scooting closer to me. “If you were still his wife and living in the Autumn Court, I would have burned the whole place down, given what I know now. Gods I nearly lost my mind when Azriel showed up here with you, and when Madja said you may never wake up? It was worse grief than when mother and father died. Because it would’ve been my fault. You would’ve died before I ever got the chance to make things right again and I don’t think I could’ve lived with myself.”  

“But we don’t have to worry about that anymore,”  I cry, holding both of his hands. “I’m here now.” 

“And you’re not going anywhere,” he assures me. “I can’t be High Lord of this court without my little sister.” 

My words get caught in my throat at his words and I decide to hell with them. I throw my arms around his neck for the first time in a long time. He plucks me from the bed, pulling me closer, like I might slip out of his grasp and be lost forever. Both of us blubber like babies, but I can’t help but smile as I’m engulfed in the scent of sea salt and citrus again. I had missed him so much. 

I hear the snapping of leather wings and then suddenly the light around me goes dark. I open my eyes to see Rhys' wings wrapping around me, cocooning me, just like he used to do when we were little kids. I can’t help but laugh and wipe away a tear as I take them in. 

“We haven’t done this since-” 

“Since father yelled at you for trying to sneak out to go on a date with the blacksmith's son,” Rhys said finishing my sentence. 

“That’s right!” I gasp remembering the young man with shaggy brown hair. “What was his name again?” 

“Arne, and he nearly soiled himself when father and I showed up to his doorstep and told him to stay away from you.” he chuckled. 

“I didn’t know you went too!” I gawk, eyes going wide. 

“Well of course I did, he didn’t deserve your affections,” Rhys smirked.

“All this time I blamed father but you were in on it! I hate you!” I laugh, slapping his chest. “He was handsome.” 

“Don’t let Cassian know that,”  Rhys teased and I couldn’t help but laugh at the image of Arne standing next to Cassian. Soil himself he certainly would in the presence of The Lord of Bloodshed. 

“I promise you I’m fine. Madja said it would be good for me to start walking around more!” I protest at Cassian’s vice grip trying to keep me in bed. 

It had been two days since the conversion with my brother, one that had gone into the late hours of the night as we reminisced about the old days. The only reason the conversation ended was because Cassian barged in claiming he was tired and refused to sleep anywhere but with his mate. Rhys happily obliged him and promised he would eat lunch with me the following day, which he did. 

Now I was feeling much better, as my stab wounds were scarred but healed. My body still ached from the bruises all over me, both left there from Eris' hands when he took me by force, and from being dragged through the palace. But I was in desperate need of a bath, and a change of clothes. So I wasn’t taking Cassian’s pleas that I stay in bed another day.   

“Fine but let me help you at least,” he grumbles rounding the bed so he can take my  hands and help me stand. My legs shake under the weight of my own body but hold strong. The long sleeve shirt of Cassian’s covering my wobbling knees.  

“See I’m fine,” I laugh taking slow steps to the bathroom where the house has already prepared me a steaming hot bath. The smell of Jasmine bath salts wafts through the air further solidifying that I’m home, in Velaris, and everything is okay. 

I lift Cassian’s shirt over my head, discarding it on the floor and for the first time since I’ve been home I finally get a good look at myself. Except I’m not sure the person looking back at me in the mirror is me. Angry hand shaped bruises mar my hips and my forearms from where Eris gripped me. The hand print around my neck finally started to fade but it was still there. My knees and elbows were bruised from being dragged over stone floors and the scar on my side had finally healed to a faint pink. 

“Gods what did he do to you?” Cassian breathed from the doorway, breaking me out of my trance. I turn to meet his worried gaze as his eyes look up and down my body at the evidence of what Eris did. 

“You don’t want to know Cass,” I say, turning back to see myself in the mirror again. Cassian’s frame comes to stand beside me as he places a kiss on my bare shoulder. 

“If you ever need to talk about it I’ll be here. You don’t have to hide it from me just because you don’t think I want to hear.” he says, staring at me through the mirror. 

I turn in his arms to run a hand down his chest, “Can I ask you a favor? One you can absolutely say no to and I won’t be upset?” I ask him timidly. 

“You could ask me for the moon on a string and I would fly up there and get it for you my love. Anything you want and it’s yours,” he smiles, brushing his knuckles against my face. 

“Will you teach me how to fight?  I’ve been thinking about what happened with Eris, and how helpless I felt. How I knew that all I could do was lie down and take it. I don’t have powers like Rhys, or even wings like you and Azriel to take me away.  I don’t ever want to feel that way again, I never want to feel helpless.” I admit staring at his bare chest, unable to meet his gaze.

His hand finds my chin and lifts it to meet his eyes, in them, so much love. Pain for what I’ve gone through, but pride for how I’ve chosen to handle it. I could feel every emotion down the bond that I thanked the mother for every day. 

“You will never have to feel helpless again y/n. I’ll kill anyone who dares to harm you and I won’t feel a lick of remorse for doing so. But I would be honored to train you,” he smiles, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “You’re going to bring me to my knees in Illyrian fighting leathers,” he laughs. 

I giggle at his comment and smack him on the chest, before waltzing over to the bathtub and getting in. The warm water washing over me practically has me falling apart as I let out an appreciative hum. I close my eyes and lean my head against the edge of the tub already feeling the invisible dirt and grime being lifted off of my skin. It’s like being reborn. 

When I don’t feel another body I open one eye to see Cassian standing next to me arranging towels and clothes for when I get done. I can’t help but smile at the overbearing mother hen he’s been the last couple of days. If I told anyone that The Lord of Bloodshed was fluffing towels and laying out outfits I’m sure none would believe me. 

“Are you going to get in general?” I ask, nodding to the space before me. The bathtub isn’t as big as his, but it’ll do.

“If you’re asking me to get in and just sit with you, yes. But if you’re hoping for anything more the answer is no. You’re not fully healed yet and I don’t want to hurt you,” he says firmly, setting the towels down. 

“But Cass I’m fine-” 

“No you’re not, the wound on your stomach is still healing,” he states and I know he’s right. 

“Fine, get in you Illyrian baby,” I say moving my legs to make room for him. 

He rolls his eyes at my comment but drops his pants. The moment he does I instantly curse myself  for allowing my eyes to ogle him. Then I curse him and his stupid temporary sex ban. It had been well before the wedding since he and I had been intimate that way and I wanted so badly to touch him. To solidify the fact that he was purely mine.  Even as he looked disorientated as hell trying to find a way for his wings to fit in the smaller tub, he was handsome.    

“Here,” I laugh, moving over to sit in his lap so that he can extend his legs and move more. “There now we both fit.” 

“As soon as you're well I’m flying you back to The House of Wind and we’re taking a proper bath,” he laughs, pressing a kiss to my nose. 

“I’ll hold you to that general,” I smile leaning in to kiss him. 

Just like the first time we bathed together he takes the time to gently wash all of me. The way his large hands massage my scalp as he washes my hair has my eyes fluttering shut, as do his soft touches as he washed my body.  The smell of my jasmine and amber soap filling my nose and making me feel like myself again. His hand lingers over the nail shaped scar across my stomach and his eyes zero in there. As if there’s something on the tip of his tongue. 

“There’s something I need to tell you, something that I’ve been avoiding.” he says, not taking his eyes off the scar. “I wanted to wait until you were completely healed but I think you should know now.”

Anxiety starts to build inside of me. I thought that after the wedding he had stopped keeping secrets. Whatever this was, it was big. Big enough for his eyes to start glazing over as they stayed riveted  on my stomach. 

“What is it?” I say quietly when he doesn’t speak up. 

“Madja was able to heal most of you but there were things even her magic couldn’t fix. She says that the wound to your womb was severe, that it hit an area she couldn’t heal. Because of it, you may never be able to have children,” he says solemnly, finally taking his eyes off my scar to look at me. His eyes were full of worry, as tears welled up in them. 

My world stopped as I took in what he said. I knew the reason Eris wounded me was to ensure I wouldn't have his child, but it had never occurred to me that it would prevent me from having any children. Prevent me from having Cassian’s children. 

A wave of grief washes over me for what could’ve been, and then it’s followed by guilt. Cassian had already sacrificed so much for me, for us, for this court. And now I couldn’t give him the one thing the fae prayed and begged the Mother for, a child. I had been a terrible mate all these months. Not knowing about the bond, marrying another male, letting that male put his hands on me. All things I could never atone for. 

What god did Cassian offend to end up cursed with me as his mate?

“There’s still time,” I breathed, eyes cast down to where he held my hands just above the water. 

“Time for what my love?” the general’s eyebrows furrowed at my anomalous response. 

“For you to reject the bond. We haven’t truly accepted it yet and I understand if this isn’t what you want anymore. I know how badly you wanted children and if I can’t-” 

“No,” he answered resolutely, pulling me closer to him pressing his forehead against mine. “This changes nothing. I don’t need children to be happy,  I just need you.”

“Then maybe you can seek out a surrogate and then-” I ramble but he cuts me off again.

“Don’t even finish that sentence. I would rather die than lie with another woman,” he said with a strong tone. “A life with you…That is what I want more than anything. More than children, more than armies.  I have loved you for so long and now you are mine, and I am yours. Anything else is inconsequential.” 

He pauses and leans over the edge of the bathtub grabbing his pants. I can’t help but furrow my brows as he fishes around in one of his pockets until he pulls out something small that I can’t see and holds it tightly in his hand. 

“I made up my mind from the moment you asked me to kiss you all those weeks ago that you would be mine until the end of all days. If you recall, I even told you so.” he starts.

“Now I’m never letting you go”

The words replay in my head as he opens his hand revealing a brass ring. The thing looked so small in his large hand. It was beaten and weathered. No doubt having seen years of life and love. 

“This was my mothers,” he states, holding up the ring. “It’s the only thing I have left of hers, given to me by someone in her village who managed to save it. As you know I’m a bastard, so it’s not a wedding ring. But I remember her wearing it  all the time.” his lips tug up in a small smile as if remembering his mother. 

There is a sadness in his eyes as he stares down at the little ring. But as I see the wheels in his head churning, recalling his mothers face, his eyes lighten and he continues. 

“I always knew that I would give it to my mate, if the cauldron ever blessed me with one. I never once thought I would be mated to the princess. It feels stupid asking you to marry me with this, but I didn’t carry this thing around all these years for nothing.” he chuckles looking into my eyes. “Y/n I love you. I always have. I don’t just want you as my best friend or my partner or even just as my mate. I want you as my wife. I know this ring isn’t befitting of a princess or The Jewel of Prythian, but will you marry me?”  

I can’t help but let out a small laugh and press a kiss to his cheek, “Of course I will Cass, how could you ever think I would say no?”

“I just had to ask,” he chuckles into my lips. 

I look down to see him sliding the circlet of brass around my left ring finger and to my surprise it fits like a glove. As if it was destined to sit there for the rest of its days. 

“We can get you another one, something more befitting of a princess.” he smiles, pressing a kiss to the band. 

“No, I don't want another one. I want this one.” I assure him laying my front down on his chest. 

“Whatever makes you happy  my love,” he hums, running a hand through my wet hair. 

We lay in the newly engaged bliss for a long time. Until the bathwater runs cold and our fingers and toes wrinkle. But it isn’t long enough, we could’ve spent hours more in that bath and it still wouldn’t be enough. No amount of time ever would be. 

The next day I woke up to Cassian’s side of the bed cold. No doubt he had finally started training again, something I’m sure Azriel had been pestering him about. Ever since I had gotten back he hadn’t left my side once, and that included training. I joked with him that he was going to lose his rippling abs but he always laughed it off and said I was more important. I wasn’t upset that he had gone to training, if anything it made me feel lighter. It made me feel like things were going back to normal. 

I was sitting in the library reading when he finally waltzed in, covered in sweat with his hair tied at the nape of his neck. The sight had me wondering when his little sex ban would end.

“How was training?” I ask setting down the book I was reading and stand to greet him. 

“Az kicked my ass, apparently a couple days out officially puts me out of practice,” he smiles, bending down to kiss me.

“You’re stinky,” I laughed, twisting my face at him. 

“You like it and you know it,” he teases, grabbing me by the waist to plant another kiss on my lips. 

I cursed at the feral part of me that liked seeing him sweaty and dirty, “Yeah, yeah, yeah so maybe I like it,” I smiled, pulling him down by the nape of the neck for another kiss. 

His hands pulled my waist so I was closer to him and my arms naturally looped around his neck. I was consumed by the feeling of him. His strong arms around me, his lips all over mine, his scent at its purest form. It was enough to drive me absolutely mad. I pulled him in closer with a groan as I parted my mouth for him.

“Ah ah ah,” he tutted, breaking the kiss. “You’re not healed yet.”

“Ugh Cass!” I bemoan throwing my head back in a mini tantrum. 

“You’re still a little sore, I can see it when you walk,” he laughs, kissing my temple. “Just a few more days my love.” 

“If you don’t want me anymore you can just say it,” I tease, turning my head to the side so that I’m staring at the wall. 

His hand finds my chin and turns it so I’m facing him again. I make sure to don my most irritated face, one that makes his lips turn up in a smirk. I wish I could kiss it right off his face.

“Oh believe me baby I want you plenty,” he smirks. “In a perfect world I would fuck you over the arm of that couch until the only word that you know how to say is my name.” 

My breath hitches and my toes curl at the image of him taking me that way. I knew he meant every word. Words I would hold him to once I was finished. I wanted him in every way  possible. The kitchen floor, the bathroom counter, the dining room table. Anywhere he would take me. 

As if he can scent my arousal he leans in to place a sweet kiss upon my lips. But when I close my eyes I fall into dead air. I open my eyes to see him staring off into the distance,  a concerned look on his face. 

“What? What is it?” I ask knowing that something is going wrong. 

“Eris is here,” he says assuredly and I realize that my brother had been contacting him via daemati. 

Cassian drops his hands from my waist and walks towards the doorway, picking up the swords he discarded against the wall. A male with a clear goal in sight.

“Wait, I want to come too!” I shout at him, following him down the hall.

He stops in his tracks turning to meet my gaze, “Absolutely not, I don’t want him anywhere near you.” he fusses strapping his swords and daggers in tightly. 

“Cass please I’m not afraid of him. This obviously concerns me, I want to be there,” I plead with him. 

Cassian’s jaw twinges and he looks out the window to my right, as if he is contemplating what he wants to do. Things that might happen, things that could go wrong. I see his eyes dart around slightly as if he’s watching all possible outcomes.

“Fine,” he states, though I can tell it’s not truly what he wants. “But you have to know that if he even comes close to you I will fucking kill him y/n. I will slit his fucking throat right then and there. Can you live with that?” he asks me in earnest. 

“Yes,” I nod. 

In reality my answer is no. The last thing I need is for a war between Night and Autumn just because Cassian killed their heir. I hated the male just as much as Cassian did, maybe even more, but I wouldn’t allow this to happen, which might be the real reason I wanted to attend. 

The flight to the house in The Court of Nightmares was short. One Cassian had clearly flown a thousand times. Growing up I was never allowed to go there, my father claiming it was too dangerous for me. One night curiosity got the best of me and I asked Rhys to take me and he declined. It was at that moment I lost all desire to set foot in the city. 

As Cassian and I stepped foot into my family's house there I couldn’t help but shudder. No wonder I had never been allowed here. It was all wrong, nothing like Velaris. Suddenly all the stories other courts whispered about the Night Court added up. 

When we arrived at the throne room we entered through the back. Standing by Rhysand who was sitting atop the throne he had been born to inherit. Eris is standing before him just a few yards away.  Both of them clearly lost in a heated discussion.  

We stood aside Rhys, Cassian’s arm wrapping protectively around me as his other hand hovered over the hilt of his sword. Eris’ eyes flickered over to me, then to Cassain and then back to Rhys.

“You hold no claim over my sister, not after what you’ve done. You’re lucky I haven’t melted your mind where you stand,”  Rhysand’s voice boomed.

It was the first thing I heard when I walked in, and it made a chill run down my spine. I had never heard my brother this way. I knew Rhys often put on a front for other courts but I had  never seen it. As if he was too afraid to show it to me.

“She’s my fucking wife. You can’t keep my wife from me Rhysand; it goes against the laws of every court in Prythian.” Eris growls back. “Come on pet it’s time to return home.” he says, holding a hand out to me.  Had he forgotten the events that led me here in the first place?

I step closer into Cassain’s frame, my hand curling into one of the straps on his fighting leathers. As if he can sense my fear, his body tenses and he pulls me tighter to him.

“Take one more fucking step towards her Eris and I will spill your guts on this floor,” Cassian growls and even I’m scared of the tone he uses. Unlike the Autumn Court, Cassian has the upper hand here, and I’m deeply terrified he will use it.  While he may be The Lord of Bloodshed, Eris is the son of a High Lord.

“She is my wife, and I hold full authority over her,” Eris seethes, the fire in his eyes returning. 

“You hold no claim over me,” I said. “You never did. By the laws of your court our marriage is null and void. Now I belong to my mate, who loves me.” 

“You once told me you loved me,” Eris says smugly. 

My mind races back to our wedding night. I swore I would never let him hear the words pass my lips. But the pain, it was too much. He told me he would stop if I would just say those three little words, and in a moment of desperation I caved to his wishes. My body too worse for wear to take much more.

Cassian’s body twinges next to me clearly taken back by Eris’ words.

“That’s because you beat me into submission until I did. That’s not love. I gave Cassian my love freely, before he ever touched me. Before I knew he was my mate.” I say firmly, my gaze unyielding at the Autumn Court heir. 

Eris simply rolled his eyes, “To hell with the laws of my court, I had it written today that impure females can still wed noblemen. I want The Jewel and I shall have her,” he smirks looking me up and down. 

Before I can even retort, Rhysand speaks up, “and I had it written the moment she was found that in my court, mates can’t be separated without consent,” my brother says smoothly. “Sister, would you like to go with Eris?” he asked me.  

“No I would not,” I say firmly. “You wouldn’t benefit much from me anyways. The healers say I may never bear children now.” 

“What a shame, now you’re just spoiled fucking goods,” Eris lips twist in a self satisfied sneer. “At least one good thing came out of that nail to your womb. You won’t be making any bastard children.” 

Before I can even start to bring him down to earth Cassian is launching himself at Eris. A frenzy of swords, flame and raw power from Cassian’s siphons barrel around the room. I can’t help but gawk and run to my brother's side as Cassian unleashes his fury upon Eris. Most of Eris’ moves are on the defense, as Cassian never lets him have a moment to strike.

“Rhys stop this!” I say clutching my brother's arm. 

Rhys simply smirks, crossing an ankle over his knee clearly amused, “No I’m actually enjoying this,” he smirks leaning into the arm of the throne as the sounds of metal on metal ring through the room. 

I look up to see Cassian hovering over Eris, a sword held to his throat as Eris uses every ounce of power he has to keep the general from piercing his throat.

“Did I get under your skin, dog?” Eris taunts, trying to catch Cassian off guard enough that he can get the upper hand. “Did I tell you how she screamed as I took her?” he grins. 

Cassian falters just long enough for Eris to get out from underneath him. Eris’ hands are ablaze as he tries to burn through Cassain’s leathers, but the general has him on his back before he gets the chance. His hazel eyes ravenous as he lifts a sword to cleave Eris’ head. I realize that this is truly the Lord of Bloodshed standing before me, and now I know why he had been given the title.

“Rhys!” I cry out hoping he can end the carnage. 

“Fine, fine,” he assures me standing from his seat. “ENOUGH!” the High Lord bellows, his power pulling the fighting males apart. “My word is final. Eris, go home while I’ll still allow it.” Rhys finishes sitting back in his chair with a swagger I wish I could recreate for myself. 

Cassain comes running over to me, not a scratch on him as Eris limps out the doors behind him.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” I fuss surveying the burn marks in his leathers from Eris’ hands. Thankfully none of them burnt all the way through. 

“I’m fine baby,” he beams down at me, trying to mask the anger he feels for letting Eris walk out of here alive. 

“By the mother can the both of you get a room?” Rhys chastised, standing from the throne. 

“You’re going to have to get used to it brother,” Cassian laughs, wrapping his arms around me.

“Yeah, yeah,” Rhys dismisses us. “Go home, both of you, before I lose my lunch,” he jokes, stepping down from the dais, moving towards the door Cassian and I entered through. 

Cassian and I enter his room, this time at the House of Wind. Both of us had decided that Rhys needed to learn to take the new dynamic in doses. The Illyrian rid himself of his leathers, his body practically vibrating with anger, desire, sadness? I couldn’t quite tell.

“Cass, are you okay?” I ask laying a hand on his now bare shoulder. My voice is small and timid worrying what I might awaken in him. 

“Yes my love I’m fine,” he says, taking my hand and pressing a kiss to my open palm. “Just left over adrenaline inside of me, that’s all.”

My thoughts wander to the sight of him nearly taking Eris’ life. In the moment I was scared he would get hurt, but looking back now? I hated to admit how it made my heart race and my thighs clench. I had never needed him more than I did now. 

“I can think of a few ways to dispel that adrenaline,” I smirk, leaning in to kiss him but he stops me.

“No stop, I won’t hurt you y/n,” he groans, pushing me away. 

I felt something in me snap, something breaking. “Cassian please,” I beg and his eyes meet mine. “Please, I'm begging you to touch me. I am whole, I am well. I just want my mate. I can’t bear it any longer.” I plead with him, tears welling in my eyes.

He moves swiftly, his frame towering over me as he comusnes my mouth as if he’s consuming my soul. I feel the need in him sink into my very skin as he takes me in his arms. I nearly whimper at the way he kisses me so thoroughly. 

“If I hurt you, tell me right away. Okay?” he says between kisses, his hands roaming up and down my sides. 

I can only nod my head in agreement before his lips are on mine again. Every  touch of his hands on my body is so all consuming, yet never enough. The male could be melded to my skin and it still wouldn’t be enough. 

I feel my thighs hit the back of a rogue desk and suddenly I’m being hauled up until my bum sits on the cold surface. My hands wander up and down Cassian’s chest, committing every muscle to memory once more. His own hands wander around my back until I hear a deafening rip ricochet off the walls. My dress being torn in half and discarded on the floor. 

“Cassian,” I breathed as the cold air hit the bare skin of my breasts. 

I  was happy to see that his little sex ban had affected him as much as it did me. His hands and mouth were feral on me, no doubt from the adrenaline. His hand tugged my head back by my hair giving himself full access to my neck. The open mouthed kisses he left all over me drove me wild. But I didn’t stop the general on his mission to worship every part of me. 

His lips wandered over every ghost of a bruise Eris had left on me.

“You are loved, you are safe, you are mine,” he whispered before consuming my mouth once more.

My hands flew to the leathers of his pants, ripping them open seamlessly. His cock sprung free, hard and ready for me. But once again he stopped me.

“I mean it princess. You feel pain at any time and we’re done.” he says pressing his forehead to mine. 

“Shut up and fuck me general,” I grit bucking my core towards him. 

“Is that an order princess?” He teased, kissing my temple. 

“Yes it is,” I groan. “If you don’t I’ll throw you in the dungeons.” I tease running my hands down his chest. 

“Well then, as my princess commands.” He smirks, sinking himself into me. 

If he didn’t have me seated on his desk my knees would’ve buckled. The feeling of him inside me was so overwhelming, so amazing. I found myself crying out in pleasure from the fullness.

“Good girl,” he smiles before thrusting in once more. 

My eyes already see stars as he sets a steady pace. One not nearly as hard as he did at the ball, clearly not wanting to hurt me. Nonetheless, the pace he set felt amazing. 

“Oh Cass,” I moaned,  my nails raking across his back. 

“Did I tell you how I missed this?” he groaned, thrusting into me deeper. “How badly I missed being inside you?” 

His words had me going limp in his arms. My mouth leaving sweet kisses on his neck to encourage him to keep fucking me. I run my hands all over his body, wanting to feel all of him. This man, this glorious, brave and strong man was my mate. For the first time since realizing it, it had begun to truly sink in. This was our first time together now that both of us knew, and I could practically feel the bond between us screaming to be consummated. 

“Mine,” I breathed into his ear as he hit me particularly deep. “My mate.”

His hand came back to cup the base of my neck so that I was craning up to meet his stare. The fanning of his breath on my cheek as he fucked me languidly. 

“All yours baby, forever.” he smirked, leaning down to kiss me. 

Large hands cupped my bottom and I felt myself being carried towards the bed. He set me down in a way that made it so he never had to pull out of me, and I was thankful for the gesture. I didn’t want to be separated from him for a single moment. 

He resumed his relaxed place, one that had me feeling every inch of him. There would be time for fucking in the future, but for now I just wanted him to make love to me, and by the cauldron did he.

I felt my legs start to shake and tremble as he continuously hit the part of me that always had me falling apart. My hands threaded through his hair as I heard his moans and grunts in my ear, only making my stomach flutter even more. The damn inside of me getting ready to burst. 

“Cass I’m going to,” I shudder, raking my hands down his back, an action that spurs him on. 

“I’m close too y/n, just hold on for me,” he grunts fucking into me harder.

In my efforts to hold off on my release in order to wait for him I feel myself clench around his length, his hips stuttering as he tries to keep his pace.

“Oh shit baby you keep doing that I’m gonna-” 

“Cass please,” I cry, nearly arching my back so I can feel more of his skin on mine.

“Fuck, cum with me,” Cassian groans.

The ragged deepness of his voice has me seeing stars as my own release washes over me. He continues rutting into me as he buries his head in my neck, breathing in my scent. Both of us are panting as I run my hands through his hair some more, calming us both down. 

“My beautiful, smart, amazing, sexy mate,” he says, kissing my neck with each phrase.

He rolls over so he doesn’t crush me under his weight, and his arms pull me up to rest on his chest like always. The skin under my cheek is covered in a thin sheen of sweat as I hear his heartbeat beginning to calm down. I can’t stop myself from propping my chin up on his chest and placing sweet kisses all over him. From his abs to his chest, to his shoulders, and his neck.

“If this is us now how bad are we going to be after we accept the bond?” Cassian chuckles, pushing my hair out of my face so that he can see me. 

“I don’t know, but I don’t want to wait any longer to accept it,” I say, pressing a kiss to the center of his chest. “Not after today, with Eris. Who knows what kind of crazy strings he would pull to take me back and have me be his lap pet. If we’re officially mated Rhys’ laws will hold true.”

“Trust me, Eris would sooner have his head on a pike than have his hands on you again,” Cassian laughs lightly. 

“I’d rather not have it come to that. If you were on the other end of Beron’s wrath for killing his heir we couldn’t do this as often,” I smirk, placing a kiss on his neck. 

“You have me there princess,” Cassian laughs, pulling my bare body impossibly closer to his. 

“By the end of the week?” I ask boldly.

“What?” he says, caught off guard. 

“I want to be mated by the end of the week, I want to call you my husband,” I smile, bringing my left hand with the engagement ring up to cup his face. “Unless you think it’s too soon?” I ask worried I might be pushing him too far.

“Too soon? I’ve been wanting to make you my wife for over 50 years y/n. I’d marry you right now if you wanted me to,” he rambles and I can’t help but giggle. 

“While I love the sound of that I would like a dress, and maybe a ring for you as well.” I say brushing a hair out of his face. 

“I suppose I’ve waited this long,” he laughs, pulling me over so I’m lying directly on top of his chest. “By the end of the week it is.” he beams, sealing the promise with a kiss.

Hey I’ve been having some problems with tagging so lmk if you get this or if you saw it but didn’t get the notif!!

Taglist: @crystalferret202 , @nickishadow139 ,  @graceshifts , @writeroutoftime , @heyyitsnat21 ,  @stinkinstuffie , @lilah-asteria , @12358 , @fxckmiup , @daughterofthemoons-stuff , @mybestfriendmademe , @anxious-study , @bxm-1012 , @mal-adaptive-dreams ,  @sh4nn , @talesofadragon , @5onedirection5 , @saltedcoffeescotch , @flourelle 

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#cassian angst #cassian smut #cassian acotar #cassian #cassian x reader #cassian x reader smut #cassian x y/n #acosf #eris vanserra smut #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris x reader #eris vandaddy #eris vanserra acotar #rhys acotar #rhysand acotar #rhysand x reader #rhysand #rhysand fluff #azriel x you #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #rhysand angst #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel spymaster #acotar #a court of thorns and roses

[kasagia]

right hand IV mini spoiler?🤭

One spoiler may be that I'm doing everything I can to get IV published this week, on Friday at the latest (and I'll probably do it, keep your fingers crossed for me). 😅🙈

But here is a fragment of part IV: 😈😈

(...)

"Yeah… he can be quite a pain in the ass." You nod, shifting your gaze to Feyd. He danced with Irulan. You try to ignore the pang in your heart, and without thinking much, you reach for two glasses, handing one to Fevas. The two of you make a quick toast, and you're relieved to feel the burning sensation of the alcohol masking the unexpected bitterness you feel.

"Well, since he's busy... will you allow me the immense honour of having my toes trampled by you?" You look briefly at the harpies, considering his proposition. It wouldn't hurt anyone if you will have a one dance with your old friend, right?

One of the harpies nods at you while the other two stare daggers at Irulan. And in that very moment, you decide that you will not allow yourself to become another of Na-Baron's harpies. You'd rather die than become the other jealous woman.

"I am better dancer than I used to be. You can get very surprised." You respond flirtatiously, offering him your hand. You giggle, rolling your eyes as he leans down and plants a kiss on it.

"Really? Impossible. The last time you danced with me, I had to go to a medic to heal my poor, trampled toes."

"And yet you still want to dance with me..." You reply teasingly as he leads you to the dance floor. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you a little too close to him for comfort. But neither of you care.

You think it's nice to feel seen and desired. It was certainly better to have a charming man like Fevas than to prop up the walls at a party. Sometimes being in the shadows bothered you. And even though Fevas was... too lively for you, right now you wanted to break out of your comfort zone for a moment. You knew he was perfect for this.

You didn't realise that the blue eyes of a certain Harkonnen were piercing your companion with a hateful look, which especially intensified when Fevas wrapped his arms tightly around your waist and leaned towards you to whisper in your ear.

(...)

"I think you've forgotten who I am to you, little witch. Say it."

"I… you are the Na-Baron." He hums dissatisfyingly, shaking his head at your response.

"Try again."

"Future Baron of Giedi Prime." Your answer was again unsatisfactory to him. You shiver as you feel him press the dagger against your chest, the tip of the blade playing with the strings holding the corseted bodice of your dress together. If he used a little bit of the dress, it would expose your breasts to his view.

"Don't play stupid, or I will punish you in front of everyone. And I wish that dirty, walking pile of muscles that had his hands on you didn't see me slapping your beautiful, little ass red. In fact, I'd rather be the only one enjoying this view, so be my good girl and tell me whose remains I'll throw to my harpies tonight?"

You hold your breath at his words. Feyd couldn't visit his harpies tonight. Not when they were supposed to be busy... getting rid of the baron's corpse. You think quickly, trying to find the best way out of the situation without condemning Fevas to a certain death. Feyd's intense, urgent gaze makes you blurt out words in an act of pure panic and thoughtlessness that you have probably never said to him before.

"No."

I hope you want more... 😊🩵🩵🖤🖤

#feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha x y/n #feyd rautha harkonnen x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd supremacy #anon ask #anonymous #thanks anon!

[rooksamoris]

💞 — 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐃𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐒.

💞 — in which jamil realizes that no matter how hard he avoid the oasis, the thirst will not disappear till it is quenched.

💞 — jamil viper x reader

💞 — warnings: hurt/comfort type fic. some descriptions of gore to emphasize yearning (the arabs be dramatic, what can i say)

💞 — 1.7k words. inspired by "sawwah" the song by abdel halim hafez. you should listen to it while reading tbh. first in a series of me assigning old school arabic songs to various characters. and yes, arabic speaking jamil is back. the translations are italicized with the arabic, and i changed some lyrics to fit third person, instead of first.

Wa ana mashi fil bilad, sawwah.

And I walk through countries, a vagabond.

Jamil had a job. He was bound to eternal servitude to the Al-Asim family—practically property to Bait (house/clan) Al-Asim. He had a job, and yet he spent his nights away in his mind, wandering like a vagabond. Purposeless, jobless. 

All those nights toiling in the kitchen of Scarabia made him forget purpose and work were different things. He would never call working for that spoiled boy his purpose. He was made for more—to be praised, to rule and command. He deserved more. Jamil deserved more than having to push away his moon, his qamar (moon). 

You were like an oasis in the desert expanse that he called his mind, and yet he walked away from you. He walked away when he desperately needed a sip. When he desperately needed rest and dates from your palm.

“Qad jinint? (Have you become crazed?) I have too many things to deal with. And you’d be better off without the burden of my title. Imshi (Go on/walk off).”

Jamil saw it. He saw the way your expression faltered, the softest twitch in your brow, the smallest tremble of your lips. It was cruel, he knew it, and it hurt him to say it. But in the end, he knew there was nothing else he could say. There must have been a better way to delicately reject your confessions, and yet he took the harshest route. Jamil plucked the dates from your palm and trampled over them.

He hurt himself by doing so, denying himself the one thing he desperately wanted. In the end, it was simple. Mishwar baeed, wa hu gareeh. His life was a long journey that only injured him. He did not want it to injure you as well.

Still, his charcoal eyes would seek you out. He would still ask Kalim about you, wanting to know how the distance was affecting you. Did you become a vagabond as he did? Were you avoiding oases?

Did you ask about the brown-skinned boy who broke your heart? He just wanted to be reassured—tamainu (reassure him)—that his qamar was doing alright. Wa in la’akum habibi, salamuli alai, he wanted to tell Kalim. If you see my love, wish them peace from me.

He would never ask you himself, nor did he get the chance to since you would scurry off whenever he passed by. The one place he could not avoid you was the kitchen of Scarabia, his domain, during one of Kalim’s parties. You were hiding away from the madness, and he had been trying to hide away from you. It was the same spot in which you cooked with him, listened to him, and were eventually rejected by him.

Jamil froze after walking in, and you turned your head up from your phone once you saw him, “I’m sorry,” you said, pushing yourself off of the counter and heading for the other door. You could not face him, not after that rejection. Not after he told you that your feelings were that of a crazed djinni (genie/jinn).

He shook his head and walked to the stove top, turning it on, “Stay. I’ll make chai,” he muttered. He did not even look at you.

You still wanted to leave, but instead, you just nodded. Honestly, you were a fool for the man, for that long dark brown hair which he braided so perfectly, and his aquiline nose which you desperately wanted to trace your finger along, “I don’t want to trouble you—”

“It’s no trouble. It gives me an excuse to get away from Kalim.”

You swallowed and nodded.

The silence was horrifically uncomfortable. The only sounds in the kitchen were the boiling water in the kettle and the sound that the mortar and pestle made while Jamil began to grind the herbs for the tea. Chai, cloves, cardamom—he added cinnamon this time. The scent always made everything more cozy.

Ya qamar, ya nasini. Oh moon who forgets me. Jamil hoped you would have gotten over your feelings for him and forgotten about the rejection, but he could tell it stung. The way you looked around the kitchen proved that enough. He poured the evaporated milk into the tea, let it simmer with the racing of his heart, and then poured both of you cups. He was gentle as he set your cup in front of you, unlike the savagery that he handled your heart with. 

Jamil leaned against the island, his eyes trailing over your face, “Are you—”

“I’m fine,” you blurted, holding the cup of tea. Waseitak, waseiya, ya shahid aleiya, “I promised you—you heard. You saw,” you elaborated, “I’m fine.” Tekilu ala beiyak. You could have told him of the state you were in after the rejection, but you opted for lies veiled by a fake grin.

He understood. He did not let you see past his veil either, “I see.” 

“The tea is great.”

“Thanks.”

There it was, another uncomfortable silence. His eyes said it all, though. Had you looked close enough, you would have seen how they ached to sacrifice themselves for you. He wished his worries for you would leave him alone—he would have gouged his eyes out just to make the aching in his heart disappear. It was curling in on itself, threatening to burst with the violence of a desert storm, sand filled his lungs, suffocating him. The weeks felt like years, and he was just a nomad in the night.

“I didn’t mean what I said,” he set his cup down.

You immediately frowned and put your teacup down as well, scared you would drop in, “You don’t get to say that now,” you mumbled.

Jamil nodded in agreement. It was cruel, rejecting you so harshly just to turn around and claim he did not mean any of it. Especially when he still did find you crazy for loving him as ardently as you claimed, “It’s wrong. I know,” he said, looking away from you and to the door where all the commotion was. The music was muffled by the shut doors, making the kitchen feel like an entirely different building, “But I… I feel the same.”

That was another lie. He did not just feel the same, Jamil longed for you. He yearned, his heart ached and his veins begged to be torn out for your sake. Every cell in his body called for your name, his hands begged to grasp your waist, kiss your neck—his hands which artfully painted henna, wished they could trace every curve and every dip on your body.

“Jamil…” you trailed off.

He merely shook his head, “It is because I feel the same that I must reject you. You—you have so much more waiting in your life without me. My suffering should not be yours,” he said, and he said it as if it were the law of the universe. He was a vagabond eternally bound to avoid the oases because the oases were not meant for him. They were meant for Kalim Al-Asim.

Despite all that, he did not push you away when you cupped his face. He did not protest as he drowned. He did not thrash, he did not fight. His body did as it wished, leaning into your hands, “Ya qamar… you are making this more difficult than it needs to be,” he muttered, the disdain dying before it could embrace the quiet air of the kitchen.

You frowned at him—sevens, he wanted to kiss that mouth of yours—and your brows furrowed, “Let me, Jamil. Just let me,” you said. What did you want him to let you do? You had no clue, or perhaps it was just too broad to describe.

Nawarli, wararili, seitak al-habayeb.

Enlighten and show me the path to the beloveds.

He was so weak when it came to you. Before he knew it, his hands were at the small of your back, pulling you closer and forcing you to arch against him as his lips met yours in a fierce kiss. He sighed into your mouth, his tongue slipping in when you gasped in surprise.

Jamil needed you even closer. His hands made their way down to your hips, his thumbs slipping under the hem of your shirt to feel your skin. It was just as nice as he dreamed it would be. What made it all the better was how you kissed him back.

One of your hands gripped his shirt, right at his chest, right above his cruel racing heart, and the other held the back of his head. The quietest of whimpers escaped you as he bit your bottom lip, causing him to groan. 

He pressed you against the counter, causing your hand to slip from his chest and move to hold onto the surface behind you. You kissed him till you could not breathe, “Ja—Jamil,” you stammered when your lips parted from his. 

Greedily, he went in and kissed you some more. Jamil had taken a sip, and now he wanted it all. He only pulled away when your hands pressed against his chest to push him away. His eyes widened and his hands fell back to his sides. He pulled the hood down to hide his face from you as he turned his head, “Sorry,” he muttered.

“It’s—It’s fine,” you replied, fixing your clothes and hair, “Are we…” you let the question hang like a date on a palm tree.

He nodded, “If you’ll still have me,” he replied. What he wanted to do was get on his knees and beg you to use your lips to end his suffering—beg that you use those hands to pull the sand out of his chest.

“Of course, I’d still have you, Jamil,” 

Your words were like a soothing balm. It was the salve that you spread over his burns, over his scars, and over the bruises that his yearning created, “Okay,” he said, and it was all he could manage to say for now. 

He picked up the kettle of tea and poured you some more. No matter what he did, he could not run away from you, his purpose. You forced the vagabond to stop and pulled the title right off of him, before pushing him into the waters of the oasis.

“We have some ma’amoul (semolina biscuit stuffed with date filling),” he says, after some silence.

#💖 — amoris writes #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #jamil viper #jamil viper x reader #twst jamil #twisted wonderland x reader #twst jamil x reader #jamil nation is so back #making him speak arabic for y'all again

[the-likesofus]

starting our forever, baby

9-1-1 on ABC | Buddie | 2.1k words | s7 spec, prev bucktommy, getting together, love confessions, love is stored in the kitchen

Eddie wakes up to a surprise visit from Buck and they finally talk about forever.

Read on AO3

Eddie wakes up to the sound of pans clanging in the kitchen and the smell of pancake batter and hot butter. Neither of these things is cause for alarm nor out of the ordinary but he is ninety-eight percent certain he went to sleep in an empty house. 

He rolls out of bed, shrugging on a sweatshirt and grabbing a pair of soft socks out of his drawer on the way past and to no surprise finds Buck in the kitchen.

“Hey! Eddie,” Buck smiles brightly at him as Eddie cautiously perches himself on a kitchen stool. “Good morning.”

Buck is bathed in sunlight from the kitchen window behind him, a halo of gold filtering through his soft curls, gel-free and touseled on the top of Buck’s head in a way that Eddie wishes he would let them be more often. “Morning, Buck. You’re here early.”

Buck bustles around the kitchen, pulling milk out of the fridge and grabbing a mug from the top cupboard, his body moving around Eddie’s kitchen as if it has been programmed with an innate sense of where to find anything and everything. He could be convinced that Buck knows his way around Eddie’s kitchen better than Eddie does. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m sorry. It’s just–it’s been a while, yeah? And I feel like I haven’t seen Chris in ages–I miss the kid–and I figured he was probably, if not missing me, at least missing my pancakes. I hope he hasn’t been letting you make them.”

Buck pours coffee from the pot into the mug, tops it off with the precise amount of milk that Eddie prefers, and sets it in front of Eddie before turning to the frying pan and flipping the pancake. “I know you’ve been improving in the cooking department–I can see it, Eddie, and I’m proud of you,” Eddie’s heart squeezes in his chest. “But pancakes are my department.”

“I wouldn’t want to steal your thunder.” Eddie quips and Buck whips around to wave the spatula at him.

“Exactly!”

“Buck,” Eddie presses carefully because there’s a frantic energy fizzing beneath Buck’s skin, he can see it in the way he moves, the line of his shoulders, and the exaggerated way he swings his arms. “Christopher isn’t here. He’s on school camp until Friday.”

“Oh, right, I knew that.” Buck’s whole body joints to a stop like a record skipping on a turntable and then just as soon he’s back in motion again. “That’s okay! I brought lemon juice for on your pancakes, we can save the bacon for the weekend when he gets back.”

Eddie’s heart grows three sizes in his chest, threatening to burst out all over his kitchen and cover Buck and the bench top in a flood of emotions he’s spent the last month and a half trying to fold smaller and smaller until he can safely tuck them away beneath his ribs where it can’t hurt anyone but himself. 

“Buck?” The other man glances at him before turning back to the stove, giving a soft hum in response. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” Buck grins at him again but it doesn’t reach his eyes this time. 

“You’re buzzing, and not the good kind.” Eddie stands and rounds the counter, he leans against the other side while still giving Buck as much space as he needs. He presses again, softer this time. “Buck? What’s going on?”

Buck deflates and turns the stove off, removing the pan from the element and leaning against the other counter opposite Eddie. “Tommy and I broke up. I broke up with him, or we broke up with each other, I guess.” 

Eddie isn’t sure what to say. As far as he knew Buck and Tommy’s relationship had been going smoothly. They were a good fit, even Eddie could tell, as much as it sometimes pained him to admit. But he was happy for them. Seeing them dance together at Maddie and Chimney’s wedding had filled Eddie with a sense of pride even when it also left him feeling like he was walking with a permanent rock in his shoe—a phenomenon he could finally put a name to after a few long talks with Frank and an enlightening if not nervewracking night at a bar called the Peacock that Hen had suggested he visit for ‘research purposes’. 

“I thought you really liked Tommy?” Is what he finally manages to say once he unsticks his tongue from the roof of his mouth.

“I do,” Buck says. His arms are still full of static as he gestures with his hands in that way that Buck does when he’s nervous or overwhelmed and he’s not looking Eddie in the eyes. Buck shakes his head. “I did. I did, and Tommy is wonderful but I think we both realized that it wasn’t going to last. He got offered a job, down in Mexico.” Buck pushes away from the bench, pulls two plates out of the drawer, and starts dividing the stack of pancakes between them.

“After the whole fiasco with the cruise ship, the LAFD decided they wanted someone on the ground down there as a sort of link between the Los Angeles rescue helicopters and the team down in Mexico City. They’re going to put him in charge of his own team and he’s been working towards some sort of promotion for ages so he’s really excited about it.”

“He didn’t ask you to go with him did he?” Eddie can’t help but let the question burst out of him. The thought of Buck leaving already feels like tearing out a lung but he also knows he’s in no position to ask Buck to stay, certainly not for Eddie’s sake. 

“He did, sort of.” Buck shrugs. “I think he already knew I wouldn’t say yes. L.A. is my home, I couldn’t leave the 118, I couldn’t leave Maddie and Jee-yun. Christopher, the thought of being anywhere that kid isn’t is just—and I know he’s not—but I still couldn’t. I won’t. Tommy knows that. He also knew that I wouldn’t leave you.”

“Me?” Now Eddie has to swallow down a lump of surprise. Eddie doesn't think that little of himself, he knows he’s important to Buck, they are important to each other, but important enough to be the reason Buck stays in Los Angeles while his boyfriend moves to another country?

Buck turns to place two plates, carefully stacked with fluffy, golden pancakes, each drizzled in lemon juice and sprinkled with sugar—Eddie’s favorite—on the kitchen island, and then he’s facing Eddie again only feet away in all his early morning glory and Eddie dares to hope.

“You.” Buck rests one hip against the counter and turns the full power of those bright blue eyes on Eddie as he finally makes eye contact for the first time all morning. “Yes, you, Eddie. Tommy is lovely and sweet and he has been so, so good to me for the last two months, we’ve been good for each other, I think.”

Eddie breaks the eye contact, he’s heard all about how wonderful and lovely Tommy is for the last two months and while he has been so happy for Buck, truly, it has also been agony. But then Buck is stepping up into Eddie’s space and gripping his elbow. Buck ducks his head until he can catch Eddie’s eyes again and follows his gaze until Eddie gives up on trying to hide from him. 

“But it was never going to work long-term, I don’t think it was ever meant to. He’s very sweet and we get along well but it never got any deeper than that. We made better friends than anything else.”

“Okay, so you ended it on mutual terms and he’s moving to Mexico?”

“Not for a few months but eventually he is yes.”

“A few months?”

“Next February.”

“February? Next year? Buck that ages away, why break up now if he’s not leaving until–.”

“Because it was time.”

“Time for what?”

“To stop lying to myself, to you.”

Eddie almost bites his tongue. “Lying to me? Buck, I am so confused right now. Did you hit your head? You do remember coming out to me right? You’ve been dating a man for the last two months. You brought a man to your sister’s wedding. Honestly, I am still living off of the high that I got from seeing your mother’s face when you kissed Tommy on the dance floor, that was—.”

“Eddie!” Buck laughs around his name and it’s the sweetest sound Eddie has ever heard. “Would you let me finish talking? Please?”

Eddie nods. “Right, yes. Sorry. Proceed.” He swings his arm out dramatically and Buck pinches the skin on the back of Eddie’s arm and rolls his eyes. 

“Eddie,” There’s a seriousness to Buck’s tone that Eddie doesn’t hear often. “I don’t want to presume anything okay, so if I’ve been reading this wrong then please tell me because I don’t want to make this weird, the last thing I want to do is hurt you or make you uncomfortable but—.” Eddie watches the tick in Buck's jaw tighten. “There’s something here, right? You and me?”

“Do you think there is?” Eddie whispers into the space between them, barely getting the words out past where his heart sits in his throat. 

“I dare to hope there is,” Buck whispers back. “I would like there to be. Eddie, you’re my best friend, you’ve been my rock for years and I love you more than anything but I also—I also think I might be in love with you, and I think I have been for a long time.”

“You think?”

“Like pretty God damn certain actually.” 

“Good, good.” Eddie nods, barely keeping the grin from breaking across his face. He can feel his lips twitching with the effort to suppress it. “That’s good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He steps into Buck’s space and leans forward until he can press their foreheads together. Buck’s arm slides from Eddie’s elbow to around his waist and Eddie rests his palm against Buck’s chest, sliding it up until he can wrap his fingers over the swell of Buck’s shoulder and press his thumb into that divet in Buck’s throat where Eddie can feel the heat of him and the pulse of his heartbeat beneath the pad of his thumb. “Because I am definitely in love with you.”

“You never said anything.”

“I didn’t know and then I did but you were with Tommy and you were happy. I was happy for you.”

Buck breathes deeply and Eddie reveals in the way it rushes past his cheek. “What about you?”

“I’m happy now,” Eddie says and it’s true, and realizing that only multiples the happiness tenfold. “I’m so happy I could burst.”

“Happy that I got dumped again?”

“You didn’t get dumped, you said it was mutual.” Eddie squeezes his shoulder. “But yes, happy that you might finally be mine, that I might finally get to be yours.”

Buck leans back and when Eddie opens his eyes he finds Buck’s eyes glassy and brimming with tears.

“That’s all I’ve ever wanted,” Buck says and Eddie pulls him into his arms until they are chest to chest, chins hooked over each other’s shoulders and wrapped up in each other so completely that Eddie could not tell you where one of them ends and the other begins and it feels so right, so right to have Buck so close to him, for them to be one and the same. They breathe together for a long time, squeezing each other closer whenever the micro fraction of an inch between them begins to field like football fields of distance.

“We take this slow, we do it right,” Eddie says carefully, pulling back just far enough to cup his hand around Buck’s cheek and hold his gaze. A niggly part of his brain tries to remind him of everything that could go wrong, of everything they have to lose, but a bigger part of him can only hope for everything that could go so beautifully right. 

“We have the rest of forever, after all.” Buck’s smile is soft at the edges and it smoothes the jagged parts of Eddie’s worry. 

Eddie leans up and presses one gentle kiss to the corner of Buck’s mouth, allowing himself that much for now. The rest will come, he is in no rush for the rest of his life. On Friday Christopher will be home and they can make pancakes again. At the end of the month, Buck’s lease will expire and Eddie will finally have an excuse to never let Buck leave his house again. In February they will wave Tommy off at the airport and Eddie will get the chance to thank him properly. Soon enough they might get to dance at another wedding, maybe their own, definitely together, for the rest of forever. 

“Forever and a day.” He promises.

#buddie #buddie fic #911 #season 7 spec #prev bucktommy #meegs writes stuff #911 on abc #buck x eddie #eddie diaz #evan 'buck' buckley #911fic #911 fic #eddie x buck #911 fox

[buddiebeginz]

Just want to send love to everyone in fandom who is frustrated with the current storyline. I still believe Buddie is coming truly everything is pointing in that direction even if we get minimal movement this season.

We may be stuck with characters and storylines we don’t want for a while longer but I do believe in the long run it will work out. Try not to let the negativity in fandom get you down. Also try not to let the over zealous fan worship of certain ships and characters get to you. That’s been one of the most difficult things for me lately but I’m trying to refocus on what I love and that’s Buck and Eddie.

There’s a reason everyone talks about Buddie not just those of us in our fandom. Big time articles have been written about Buddie and Oliver is asked about Buddie in every interview now. It’s because our ship is not only one of the most enduring and amazing on 911 but people are literally drawn to the show because of Buddie. And not just because it’s too hot firefighters in love (even if they haven’t admitted it in so many words yet) but because the way they love and care for one another is inspiring and hopeful and a beautiful representation of a love we all wish we could have.

Don’t lose heart Buddie fans our ship will come out on top. Buck and Eddie have six long years of shared history. Of loving, fighting, supporting, putting their lives on the line for each other, co-parenting, calling out each others bs, seeing each others flaws and loving anyway, pushing each other to be better, working together, commiserating together, shared trauma etc. No one else Buck or Eddie get paired with could compare to that kind of history or connection. The connection that was there basically from the beginning with Buddie.

Keep showing love for Buddie on social media especially to those in our fandom making new Buddie content. We want to keep our fandom growing. Feel free to message me anytime if you need to vent. Also remember that no matter what anyone else says on here you’re allowed to feel however you do about the current storyline. ❤️

#911 buddie #buddie #911!

[penelopepine]

Don't be a stranger! Pt. 3

Part 2 Part 3

Simon "Ghost" Riley x FemReader

Content: Neighbors AU, fluff, developing relationship

For the first time in a long time Simon wasn't glad to be leaving his flat. Every other time he would have already been out the door and on his way back to the base. Instead he's sitting at his table nursing a cup of tea at 5am; trying to take in as much as he can before leaving for who knows how long. 

You and Simon had said your goodbyes to each other last night per his request. He didn't want you having to be up this early when you still had to wake up for work in just a couple hours. Which was something that made him worried to think about. He had been walking with you everyday, and this was going to be his first time not doing that with you. You were going to start doing a lot of things without him now though. 

Simon was sure in just a couple weeks of him being gone you'll have forgotten all about him and moved on in life. Sure he had your phone number now, but he's not going to be able to communicate with you for long periods whenever he's out on a mission. He'll become the neighbor who shows up every once in a while, and no longer your friend. He just knew it. 

A sudden knock at his door broke him of these thoughts. He cautiously approached the door; there were only two options he could think of for who was at the door. Either it was someone who was here to try and hurt him or it was you. 

He looked through the peephole and once he had confirmed who it was he opened the door.

It was you. Of course it was you, as much as he wished you had listened and were instead asleep right now; Simon was happy to see you. Standing in the doorway with a wide grin on your face, and holding a box. 

"Simon! I'm so glad I managed to catch you before you left," You hold out the box towards him, "here this is for you as well!" 

Simon softly says your name before grabbing the box from you and letting you step inside, “What’s this? Also shouldn’t you be asleep right now. I thought we agreed to say goodbye last night.” 

“You did say that, but I never agreed to it!” You step inside giving him a soft shoulder bump, “and that is a gift that you are not allowed to open until you get back to base.” 

With a small smile on his face Simon gives a huff, “I suppose I should’ve known better to think that you would’ve listened.” 

“I’ll listen when it’s important, but you never could’ve stopped me from being up and walking you out to the car. It’ll be like our normal walks except I’m walking you to work this time.” 

Simon will deny it to everyone, even himself, but he felt so cared for in that moment. Here you were at 5am wanting to be with him to the last second. Not because you had to or worked together, but simply because you wanted to. 

"Should I expect an escort from the car to the building when I return as well?"

"Just tell me when to be there and I will." 

He hopes you keep your word on that. Before anything else can be said his phone pings, "It seems my car is here." 

You give him a sad smile as the two of you head to the door. "I'm going to call and text you by the way; you're not going to get rid of me this easily." 

"I won't always be able to reply." He wasn't going to lie and say the two of you would always be in constant communication. That would only lead to hurt for both of you, "but I'll try to when I can." 

"That's ok, besides who else am I going to get to listen to me ramble about my day?" 

"Then I look forward to your 20 minute voicemail messages then, love." 

The rest of the walk to the car is passed with you telling Simon what plans you have coming up, and that he shouldn't worry about his place since you'll hold down the fort for him while he's gone. 

You stood silently now standing by his side as he put his bag in the trunk. Looking at you he can clearly see a glassy look in your eyes as you look up at him. 

"Can- can I get a hug before you go?" You nervously ask. 

You and Simon had exchanged shoulder bumps, back pats, and side hugs at most. Never have the two of you given the other a real hug. It took just a moment to think before Simon was opening up his arms towards you. Instantly you rush forward and you both stand there for a moment holding on to each other. 

“Be safe.” You whisper before letting go, and taking a step back. Letting Simon get inside the car. 

He watched up for as long as he could; memorizing you to mind. When he couldn’t see you any longer Simon took a deep breath, and slipped back to what he was most comfortable with. Being the ghost he was once more. 

-

“Aye, Lt. good to see you again! How was your time off?” Johnny of course was there right as soon as he stepped back on base. Normally he’d appreciate it, but right now all he wants is to get to his room. You said he couldn’t open the package till he got here, and he didn’t want to wait any longer than he had to. 

“It was fine.” Simon says as he walks past the other, “I’ll meet up with you later Johnny.” 

“You better! I have a lot of gossip that I need to catch you up on.” 

“Copy that.” 

He didn’t stop walking till the door to his room was firmly shut behind him.  Placing his bag down he sat at the desk and opened the box. 

Inside was a small container, a bracelet, and a letter. Pulling out the container first he opened it to find the little thing filled with cookies and a note on top. 

“I know you have a secret sweet tooth! Hope you enjoy these!” The note read. It was hard for him to not smile at that. He didn’t know that you had noticed that about him; it was actually something he tried to hide from you. 

The bracelet was clearly homemade by you. It is made up of black and gray beads, and a small silver pendant the shape of a heart. He runs his fingers over the pendant feeling the smooth cool surface before he slips the bracelet onto his wrist. He’ll cover it with his sleeves or put it in his pocket when he’s not in his own personal space. 

A thought pops into Simon’s head as looks at it; taking out his phone he takes a quick photo of the bracelet and sends it to you. Along with a text thank you for the cookies as well. 

Looking back in the box there was only the letter left. This was the item that made him the most nervous to look at. Very carefully though he opened it. 

“Simon,  

The very first day I met you I was so worried that you were there to yell at me. That I had already messed up a relationship with one of my neighbors, but you had surprised me. You offered to help me, and I said yes. 

That was the best decision I could have made. Having you as my friend will never be a mistake. I’m going to miss you while you’re gone, but rest assured as soon as you get back home I’ll make you whatever you want!

Make sure to stay safe out there and bring me back any cool rocks you find!

Sincerely, 

Your favorite neighbor!”

Reading the letter he couldn’t help but think about every moment he spent with you; noting to himself how different everything seems to be now in his life. He never thought he would meet someone like you that made him feel a certain way. 

With something akin to horror Simon realized what that feeling was, he liked you, he wanted you to be his. Somehow you had dug yourself into his heart, and made a home. 

Taglist:

@nexthyperfix @spicyspicyliving @yourdaydreamerfan @tf141gloryhole

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #x reader #fem reader #task force 141 #call of duty #simon ghost riley #female reader #john soap mactavish

[moodymisty]

Would you be comfortable writing some courting headcanons for the primarchs?? Thank you!!

Author's note: Here you go, they're sort of random but I hope you enjoy them.

Warnings: Fem!Reader for some like Lion’el because of words like Legion Mother, A few very slightly lewd remarks

Fulgrim:

The primarch who out of all has most devoted himself to things like the arts is nothing short of overwhelming, when he first expressed his desire for you. Flowers, paintings, clothing, food, whatever it is you enjoy, all of it gets gifted to you with no small amount of theatrics. Though thankfully, Fulgrim knows when to turn it down a bit, and you can enjoy his company. Even then however he is still very intense, kisses on the hand, the lips, and gentle caresses abound as he woos you with his silver tongue. His legion is also one of the few who at the start know about Fulgrim's intentions, and actually takes it decently well. Far better than other legions, when finding out their Primarch is indulging in romance. You are the socialite, the shining star in a room and the talk of everyone there, and Fulgrim will have it no other way. But as much as he does all this, he finds it cute if you’re shy or nervous about it. Shyness isn’t in his dna, so he finds it very adorable. You often get purfumed, hand written letters when he is away. Fulgrim has quite the way with words, and many of them you’re glad the one who reads them are him and you.

Perturabo:

He might be a petulant manchild at times, but when the mood strikes him Perturabo can be a bit softer. It helps that you're one of the few people he trusts, now that the two of you are so close. Though it may often be more trouble than it's worth, with how often his mood changes. Perturabo can go from lavishing you with Olympian clothes to sulking in his workshop for hours if not days, leaving you to eventually wander down there and find him, and bring him out of his petulant sulk. A gentle hand on his own, asking if he can explain to you what he’s working on tends to help. Perturabo also becomes very possessive of you, not long after he starts courting you. If Dorn, Sanguinius or Lorgar so much as look at you the wrong way, he's more than ready for a fight. He has one person in his life who hasn’t wronged him, who actually respects him, and he isn’t losing that. Those softer moments with him as he speaks of his plans for amphitheaters and bathhouses while you lay in his arms are worth it, however.

Lion’el Jonson:

Lion'el is, complicated. Part of him wonders how he even got here, something as frivolous as romance was never a significant part of his mind. But here he is. He can’t complain, as he’s become so used to you now that often times, his nose wrinkles anytime he’s away and casts sight on an empty bed. He doesn’t say anything about it, however. Part of him laments he isn't able to give you rides on horseback, as he's far outgrown the horses he rode in his younger years. Though he can walk beside you, even if his men think it's demeaning of his position. Is painfully blunt about some things, and extremely obtuse about others. He wishes to marry you? Blunt. You get a military parade dedicated to showing the galaxy the Dark Angels new Legion Mother with no warning. He wishes for you to wear the colors of his legion and match him so when you arrive on Terra everyone knows who you are with? Vague and obtuse, he will grunt about every option until you choose the one he likes.

Rogal Dorn:

As with all parts of his life, he's extremely stoic and at first, you don't think anything's changed. He's the type that listens to the things you talk about, and silently gives them to you. For instance as a newcomer to Inwit it's incredibly cold, but your current dress just doesn't cut it for the harsh wind and un-acclimated body. You find a new one on your bed three days later made perfect and exactly how you like it, but Dorn says nothing about it. Those few late night moments alone when he brings you into his office, and you sit at his desk while he works are some of his favorite. Dorn gets to feel you safe in his arms, and while he’ll never say it out loud, he is overwhelmed in his love for you. Does not tell any of his fellow primarchs about you. The day they realize Dorn has a beloved is a stressful one, they’re all sneaking around trying to get information about you, and Dorn almost has to lock you in his quarters and shoo them all away. Is surprising talkative in written word. His letters or anything else tend to be very long, talking about the ins and outs of his legion, and their current progress. You’ve never heard him talk half that much in person, it’s sweet. Though once in a while those letters can get a bit salacious; And Dorn is nothing if not detailed.

Leman Russ:

This man's declaration that he wanted to court you was as brash and blunt as he is. You're pretty sure he was half way into sleeping with how drunk he was at the time, a massive hand on your shoulder as he smiles with a red face. Granted when he sobered up he was far more, romantic about it. By his standards. He still stunk of mjød, but at least he held your hand. From that moment on however Russ isn't a man shy of showing off, and wastes no opportunity to plop you in his lap and give you a kiss, pick you up off the ground, or say something far too inappropriate for the current locale. Whether it's day two or day two hundred, he finds keeping himself off of you too much trouble. He’s the type to make others turn away with how overt his affection is. Every one of his kisses and hugs feel like he’s treating it as the last one he’ll ever do. Loves when you comb and braid his hair. It takes awhile and he has no patience for it, but he enjoys when you do it.

Ferrus Manus:

As a recurring theme with all of these, Ferrus finds it a bit hard to show how he feels. While he has moments where he cracks a smile, often times he’s largely stoic. As such, he never really asked you to be with him, it was something that simply progressed overtime. He doesn’t invite you into his quarters and his bed if you aren’t his beloved, he assumes it wouldn’t take a genius to figure that out. Late night workshop time is a must. Ferrus can spend days in there with no issue, and oftentimes you have to come and climb into his lap if you want any time with him at all. He doesn’t mind as as long as you’re quiet; Though over time he’s begun to enjoy explaining his plans to you if you aren’t asleep. If you are asleep, sometimes he gets a bit emotional and talks or thinks to himself. He never thought he’d have someone like you when he lived on Medusa, he just needed to survive. Is actually somewhat hesitant when you first are together. Ferrus is well aware of his size (both out and in the bedroom, or any other local where he deems sex a daring and intriguing idea), and often tries to be quite gentle. It took a bit of coaxing to finally treat you like you weren’t made of glass. You get surprise gifts from Fulgrim at times. Some are sweet; Some are… They’re hidden until Ferrus returns from where ever he’s currently away to at the time and you can surprise him.

Horus:

The same as Fulgrim; Excessive and grandiose, but unlike Fulgrim, there's a tad more subtlety to it. But only a tad. Horus still is eager to show off the love of his life (and so much more that he’s kept just in his head shh), but he’s aware that sometimes you require a bit more subtlety. For a primarch, he’s quite the romantic. Though there’s only so much you can do when you have thousands of gene-sons waiting on orders and don’t exactly get why their primarch is holding your tiny hand and helping you walk down the thunderhawk’s ramp. You can do it yourself, they think. He can also be quite a bit grandiose in the theoretical sense. Horus seems to have your entire future together planned, and he’ll speak it to you during very late nights with stars in his eyes. To marry you, to bring you into his legion as the mother of his gene-sons, to give you your own child one day. He’s more than a bit overwhelming, but it helps he’s so charismatic.

Angron:

I... I hope you're patient. Angron isn’t one that is fond of things like romance. For multiple reasons. One being that it brings him pain because of the Nails, and the other being that in many ways, he doesn’t feel like he deserves it. He’s a slave, he’s a monster, he’s a man who failed his people, men like him don’t get to have someone like you. But you stay anyways despite the fear of him loosing control of the Nails, and eventually Angron supposes that there’s more annoying people to have around. He’s far more applicable to this in his early days. The Nails haven’t degraded his mental state yet, and his legion is still fresh faced and eager to prove their worth. If Angron accepts you, they will as well then. The downside is that many of the primarchs worry about Angron’s relationship and subsequent attachment to you, and the danger it brings. Some for your safety, but mostly for the fact that now that Angron is so deeply attached, if something were to happen to you it would well be within the possibility that Angron would completely loose control of the Nails, and become an unstoppable threat that would have to be put down. On the other hand, it seems that you can calm him down a bit, as much as the Nails will allow, something that not many are able to do. A double edged sword, your love is to him. Often times you have to restrain him during anything, strenuous. It’s for your own safety, though it seems like Angron doesn’t hate it either.

Roboute Guilliman:

The most traditional out of them all. He follows the 'rules' so strictly you have wonder if he's following some sort of manuscript. Your relationship progresses at a very methodical pace, which is a bit odd but you find it oddly sweet he puts so much thought into it. He does little more than hold your hand, kisses and anything heavier are strictly private; If it wasn't for the longing, puppy dog look in his eyes, no one would guess you two were anything more. He's not overt about it like Horus or Fulgrim, but you are still absolutely smothered in gifts. From jewelry to clothing to weird purfumes he's been gifted by high lords attempting to earn his favor through you (Guilliman has made it very obvious that he's not the type to be swayed by gifts but they hope you are and will put in a good word with your beloved), you quickly find yourself constantly or the receiving end of some sort of lavish gift. Roboute is very much in love, it's just hard for him to admit it. As you come to understand his own little love language is the day he's a very happy man. On a bonus note: It is very easy to get this man to completely melt for you. If it’s been a stressful time for him and he’s stressed, giving him a bit of a hand will make him a bit bashful, but overwhelmingly thankful.

Sanguinus:

As kind as he is beautiful, Sanguinius is one of the more heartfelt ones around. Romance abound, the angel and you are the textbook example of star crossed lovers the moment he proposes courtship to you. It almost makes some of the primarchs jealous at how incredibly perfect your love for each other is, like your feet don’t touch the ground He loves to pick you up and give you a hug or a kiss, wrapping you in his wings. He always says it's just so you feel safer, but he also likes the bit of privacy, hiding you from the worlds in his arms. You also enjoy playing with his wings when you’re in private, as they’re quite sensitive. A side note; He thinks it's cute that you use his fallen feathers as bookmarks and quills, and he now gifts you a few of his fallen primary feathers every now and again for you to use. You’ll know about the Red Thirst eventually when you’re with him. Sanguinius won’t ever ask for assistance, but if you were to offer a bit of blood? He’s incredibly careful, but the blood of his lover is nothing short of ambrosia and he will dutifully treat you afterward for sating his appetite.

Jaghatai Khan:

As one of the more reasonable primarchs, Jaghatai is a steal to have as your lover. He’s personable and kind, and funny to boot. He enjoys making you laugh, something his sons have picked up on. Sometimes they’ll tease you (or more likely unsuspecting commissars) when you’re in their company. If he's not able to hold your hand, he'll have a hand on your shoulder or back, always close to you whenever you're both together. He’s extremely dedicated to Chogoris, and it’s incredibly important to him that you adopt some of the culture he grew up in. You don’t have to, but it would make Jagahatai an extremely proud man if you attempted to understand Chogoran. He’s also private; His fellow primarchs don’t even know of your existence let alone close relation to him until you’re well into your romance, and Jaghatai has thoughts for no one else but you.

Konrad Curze:

Konrad’s romance is as toxic as he is. But at the same time, it’s like a drug you can’t get enough of. Because you’re fucking terrified of him, but the man is obsessed with you. Not many of the other primarchs understand the soul crushing, teeth grinding obsession Konrad has for you. He’s willing to fall to his knees and submit to you as long as you tell him you love him, and that he's worth more alive. But if you tell him you don’t?… You don’t want to tell him you don’t. Konrad is painful. He holds your hand too tight, kisses you too rough, bites you too hard. He doesn’t mean it, you don’t think at least some of the time, but he’s so caught in this obsession with someone trying to save him that his martyr complex melts away for a bit and he’s this self-loathing, sad excuse of a man. You almost pity him as much as you love him. Making him happy has become an arduous journey for you. Is the exact opposite of the others in wanting to show you off. You’re hidden for ages, until the primarchs realize Konrad has someone at his side. They worry, but they know separating him from you would cause more harm than good, and you keep Konrad’s emotions a bit more in check. And in the eyes of a few individuals, your safety serves as a good threat to keep Konrad and his unhinged legion on a leash and working towards a desired goal. A note; Konrad is surprisingly selfless in regard to more intimate matters. And he likes to bite. Your thighs don’t get much reprieve from him.

Vulkan:

Sweet as sugar, no one is as good at a proper declaration of love or desire to romance like Vulkan is. No matter how much it breaks his back he’ll always hold your hand, give you a kiss, or pick you up to bring you with him across the Flamewrought or the Terran palace. Besides perhaps Sanguinius and Lorgar, no one is as star-crossed in love with you as Vulkan is.

He’ll do anything for you, if you just ask. He often paraphrases that he would shield you from any threat, but sometimes you fear he’d do it literally. Less seriously he loves to gift you various things, your favorite being a necklace. You never thought he’d be able to work at such a small level, but Vulkan is nothing if not skilled. He got quite the reward the evening he gifted it to you.

Is one of the quicker ones to get serious. Talks of marrying you, writing you down in the history of his legion as their Legion Mother, Vulkan is quite eager to tie himself to you, and you to him.

Corvus Corax:

Corvus is private, and also quite slow to trust. Even slower to admit he likes someone, let alone enough to express that he’s in love with them. Many moments with him are often spent in his private quarters or somewhere else alone, where only you have eyes on him.

Is one of the few primarchs conscious of the fact that he isn’t really meant to exist, and that he’s forcing it by being with you. Your body often bruises and aches if he isn’t careful with you, and it secretly pains him that the one person he loves is so easy for him to hurt. Finding out about this feeling he has swiftly turns you into a mess of reassurances that quickly overwhelm poor Corvus, and while he still feels it at times, he appreciate you trying to soothe him.

Loves to write you letters. He feels like it means more to put the effort into handwriting, and when you send him one back, it’s like he can feel your touch on the paper. One time you left a lipstick kiss on the parchment and the man was insufferable that evening from how pent up he was, unbeknownst to you millions of miles away. You paid for that transgression dearly one he returned.

Lorgar Aurelian:

Lorgar is yet another primarch who is sweet as sugar. He also has quite the way with words, though unlike Horus and Fulgrim, it isn’t intentional. He’s just very passionate and verbose. Is also very touchy. Loves to pick you up and kiss you, show you off to others. He’s so stupidly in love and everyone around him is almost annoyed by it. He just loves his tiny little goddess so much, you bring him light he didn’t know he needed. Lorgar is also very affected by his religious trauma. His self flagellation both emotional and literal has always been an issue. You’ve had nights where you’ve put ice on his back after he whipped himself bloody, crying over his wounds. If it isn’t bad he encourages you to not weep over him, and if it’s worse he often times is beating himself up over worrying you. Being with him is stressful emotionally, to say the least. In another path, he often time beats himself up over the idea of corrupting you with sinful thoughts. Though that doesn’t really stop him, especially if he comes to his quarters one evening seeing you wearing all white draped across his bed. Lorgar will sin alright, but he does it while speaking prayers to save his own soul as he worships you. He’s one of the quickest Primarchs to want to marry you, to make you his own and to bring you closer and closer to his side.

Mortarion:

Mortarion isn’t an easy one to love. He doesn’t really consider the emotion valuable until one day he suddenly realizes that you mean something to him, more than just another baseline human does. Like Ferrus in that he never does the official courtship nonsense, and just upgrades your relationship in his head overtime. Someone who isn’t his lover doesn’t spend hours in the Pale King’s study watching him work, keeping one of his hands in their lap while he uses the other. Is a bit of a pushover in some ways, and takes his self loathing a bit too far sometimes. You’ve learned that sometimes he needs you to kiss him and tell him you love him more than anything else, to get him to stop sulking. Everyone is extremely surprised he found sometime. Let alone someone so personable. Fulgrim jokes that Mortarion should just send you instead of himself to Terra when the primarchs meet up to discuss things, as you’re easier to deal with. Mortarion hates when things like that are said, and he’ll hide you from the world obsessively for awhile after. He loves you, but sometimes for him love and possess get intertwined in his head when he thinks for you.

Magnus the Red:

Isn’t the worst beloved to have, but he has his quirks. He can be a bit stuffy at times, and often times forgets that relationships needs nurturing to grow. Magnus often times gets stuck in his own head and forgets everyone around him, including you. Loves to show off his warp magic to you, especially if you show literally any interest at all. He’s so used to everyone fearing it, fearing him, hating psykers no matter what, that any interest by you gives him hearts in his eyes. You’ll be up all night listening to him read you tomes. Which you don’t mind, it often helps you fall asleep. Since Magnus can change his size, he knows exactly how to make your squirm. You know you’re in for a wild ride when your beloved becomes bigger than Ferrus and starts taking off his armor.

AlphariusOmegon:

The twins are complicated. Given the primarchs consider you only Alpharius’ beloved, you spend more time with him than Omegon. As such, sometimes Omegon can get a bit possessive whenever you two are together. You don’t entirely blame Omegon for it; His other half is the one holding your hand and showing you off, joking about marrying you to his fellow primarchs. As such, those topics tend to be a minefield in your weird little relationship. They often use you to get information about the other Primarchs. It seems your smaller stature makes them almost seem like you're less of a threat, and get a bit more talkative around you than they are around whatever twin is currently frontfacing. You hate when they ask this of you, but you have no power to refuse them. As the twins are extremely meticulous and through, they've been careful to not show anyone how in love with you they really are. If they how just how much Alpharius loves you, it would be easy for you to be used against them. So affection is limited, and they put up an aura that you're not much more than an arm piece when in view of others. They eagerly make sure to show you this isn't the case in private, however.

#fulgrim x reader #perturabo x reader #alphariusomegon x reader #roboute guilliman x reader #jaghatai khan x reader #magnus the red x reader #lorgar aurelian x reader #konrad curze x reader #rogal dorn x reader #mortarion x reader #horus lupercal x reader #corvus corax x reader #angron x reader #vulkan x reader #sanguinius x reader #ferrus manus x reader #leman russ x reader #lion'el jonson x reader #primarch x reader #warhammer 40k x reader #reader insert #reader #mywriting

[lesbianphan]

I know this is gonna be mushy and overly emotional and I'm sorry for oversharing a bit, but I feel like it's necessary to put into words what rewatching We're All Doomed means to me personally. I watched the kiswe premiere event live and it was one of the most fun nights I've had in a while, even though my life felt extremely hopeless at the time.

And, look, here's the thing: when the WAD premiere dropped, I had completely given up on improving things. In fact, I was very much in the 'doomed' mentality. I had long accepted that there was no way my life would get better. So Dan's message really resonated with me: it's easy to settle for being at rock bottom and thinking that's all there is for me. I was happy to see Dan doing better, but deep down I didn't truly believe his words either, not really. I did want to, but I wasn't quite there. And I don't believe them all the time, as he himself said he doesn't, and doing the show many times hammers the point home into his head.

After experiencing it, I thought maybe, just maybe, I could stop only embracing the void, but start having the courage to exist as well. Putting myself out there more, trying to make a world for myself in which I'm not the :/ emoji all the time. So I applied for the jobs, I wrote what I wanted, I unapologetically embraced the nerdy things and the fandoms I enjoyed. I decided I can choose happiness in the smallest of ways, even when it sounds silly and unimportant. Because it isn't unimportant really if it means something to me.

Rewatching the show last night showed me how much it changed my life and the big leaps it helped me take in life. I have so much more to learn, but I keep telling myself to be brave (lmao sorry had to sneak the Phil reference) and have the courage to exist. Really truly exist out in the world, not hidden inside my room. And sure, some days are harder than the others, some days I really don't like myself at all. Even in those days, though, I tell myself: all I have to do is have the courage to exist.

I went in to watch WAD with no expectations, and I feel like the message of appreciating the little moments was so monumental, it truly absolutely had a huge impact in my own life. I have a job now, and some financial stability. To be honest, I never thought I'd get this job, I might not even have applied if I wasn't in this mindset. In so many ways, Dan and Phil have profoundly changed my life, and I think WAD is just one of those big examples.

I doubt the real humans Dan and Phil will ever understand the impact they've had on this world, but I'll forever wish them the best. I'll always support them, because their creations have irrevocably changed me as a person, and as much as I like joking around and stuff, I'm just thankful that we share this existence, and we get to have fun and be forever changed by it.

Thanks @danielhowell, you'll never know how huge the impact of this show was, but I am truly crying writing this and I hope one day I get to tell you in person how much you inspired me to keep going when no one else would.

#obligatory come to Brazil comment so I can meet you Dan #daniel howell #danisnotonfire #(lmao soz) #Dan Howell #We're all doomed #WAD #amazingphil #Phil Lester #Dan and Phil #phan #dnp #sheesh I'm crying now help ahaha #amanda yaps #personal

[ashwhowrites]

Hi! Can I request an Older! Eddie x reader (can you do another Hargrove! or Carver! Reader one?) but maybe more fluff/smut? Like Reader being in a secret relationship with Eddie, so her dad doesn't know, but Eddie teases her a lot, he tells her what If you father knew about us? and he knows she'll get nervous bc he hates Y/N's father (you can add more things!!)

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it! Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Daddy's girl

When Y/N and Eddie met for the first time, a year ago, neither knew how complicated the relationship would become. Y/N was an adult, allowed to make her own decisions. And dating the older man she met at the bar wasn't a regret. Eddie caught her eye as he sat at the bar, having a beer. His dark hair, brown eyes, and chiseled jaw, coated in dark facial hair, looked memorizing underneath the downtown lights.

A few drinks in and she made her way over to him. A few more drinks and she was in his backseat, steaming up the windows as she clawed at his seats. His hands on her hips, his mouth on her back, and his cock buried in her.

They hooked up for months before they realized how deep their connection was. The complication occurred when Y/N learned her father was Eddie's enemy. She knew her dad was a dick, and wasn't surprised to hear that he made Eddie's life hell in high school.

Eddie couldn't help but feel smug about the fact he was dirting up Carver's daughter. He wished he could see Jason's face when he connected his precious baby girl called Eddie Daddy all night long. But also to shove it in his face that after all these years, someone fell in love with him. He wanted to brag and brag that someone as amazing as Y/N wanted to be with him.

But Y/N did not want her dad to know about the relationship, which Eddie understood. Jason wouldn't hesitate to destroy the relationship they created. Plus forbidden love was always a turn-on.

~~~

"You're so hot," Eddie mumbled against Y/N's lips. They stumbled into his house, lips locked and their bodies heaving.

"So are you," Y/N said as she shut the door behind them with her heel. Her hands worked on Eddie's belt as he unbuttoned his dress shirt.

"What time do you have to meet your dad for dinner?" Eddie asked as he dropped his shirt to the floor.

"In an hour, but it's at that gross pizza shop he knows I hate," Y/N rolled her eyes as she tugged Eddie's pants down. He stepped out and kicked them to the side then removed his socks.

"Better make sure daddy's good girl is well-fed then, huh?" Eddie smirked as she whimpered at his words. Her stomach flipped and her thighs clenched.

She dropped to her knees and watched as Eddie took off his boxers. His hard cock inches from her face and she drooled at the sight.

"Ready?" He asked, his thumb swiping across her bottom lip, her obedient eyes watched his every move. He loved how submissive she was when it came to him. Just one snap of a finger and she'd run away from her life and follow him.

"Yes," she said and opened her mouth. She clenched her thighs as he gripped his cock, he placed his lip on her tongue. She moaned at the familiar feeling as he pushed himself down her throat.

He pulled her hair back and held it, he moaned as she began to move her head up and down as she sucked him off.

~~~

Y/N sat in the hot car as Eddie filled up the car with gas. A road trip ahead of them to the beach, bags packed in the back. A romantic getaway that she could not wait to start.

She smiled as the door opened and Eddie jumped in. His tattooed arms glistened in sweat from the short time outside, his tank top sticking to him. He started the engine and the AC blew and released them of the hot weather. He pushed his sunglasses into his hair and pecked her lips.

"Oh look it's your dad!" Eddie said, pointing straight ahead. Y/N snapped her head to look through the windshield, her dad stood filling his tank.

"Oh my god," Y/N whispered, she quickly ducked her head down and hid.

"I think we should go say hi," Eddie teased with a smirk as he looked down at her.

"Not funny," she snapped, slapping his thigh. She jumped when Eddie honked the horn, a growl leaving her lips as she smacked him again.

"Oh, he's looking! Say hi to your daddy, don't be rude." Eddie teased again, loving the way she looked up at him terrified, yet pissed off.

She didn't move a muscle, she watched as he flipped her dad off and quickly grabbed his hand.

"He's gone," Eddie said, Y/N slowly peaked over and sighed when her dad was gone.

"You are such an ass," Y/N shook her head as she buckled herself in.

"Yeah, but you love me"

~~~

"I'm going to grab the beers," Eddie said, pecking her cheek as he rounded the corner in the store. She pushed the cart and grabbed hot dog buns from the shelf. She grabbed a few more things before she went to the next aisle. She froze when she saw the back of her dad's head and Eddie's huge smirk.

"I see you didn't become a rockstar," Jason scoffed as he glared at Eddie. "Life must be so unfulfilling. No wife, no kids."

Y/N was mouthing "no" but when did Eddie listen?

"I am so glad you brought this up!" Eddie exclaimed as he smacked Jason's shoulder. "I am not married, but I found someone who will be."

"Yeah right," Jason mumbled, pushing Eddie's hand off of him.

"It's your daughter," Eddie said, his eyes flashing to Y/N's horrified face and back to Jason's shocked face.

"I'm shitting with you man, but you should see your face," Eddie laughed, smacking Jason's chest before he walked off. Y/N raced to hide behind the corner, slapping Eddie the second he was in sight.

To Eddie it was a fun little game, giving his girl a heart attack kept him a child at heart. But the ring in his nightstand reminded him he was all grown up.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #eddie munson fluff #older eddie munson smut #older eddie munson #older eddie Munson x reader #older Eddie munsin x carver!reader #ashwhowrites