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lovelynim · 5 months

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Thrilling Bet

Honkai Star Rail - Dr. Ratio x Aventurine

A/N: I know it's WAY too early to write anything about these two, but that leaked LC is living in my head rent free and I needed to get this out of my head so... yeah.

Also, keep in mind this is written before official releases and they may be OOC.

Summary: Aventurine comes up with an interesting bet.

Word count: 1482 words

“Ve~ri~tas,” Aventurine nearly sang, bursting into the room without the slightest care or respect for the other man’s privacy. Ratio closed both the book in his hands and his eyes, taking a deep breath. ‘Patience, Veritas, patience,’ he repeated inside his mind, remembering why he agreed to deal with someone like Aventurine in the first place and how they even ended up together.

Turning his head to look at Aventurine, Ratio gave the blonde a cold, piercing glare. “What?”

“Are you busy?”

“Well, I was rea-”

“Good, because I just happened to find out something really interesting and I’d like to share it with you, my dear Veritas,” Aventurine chuckled after promptly interrupting the other, placing his hands on Ratio’s shoulders as he stood behind his chair. “And I’m sure you’ll love to hear this one.”

“Could you not touch me so casually?” Ratio hissed, slightly flinching when he felt the touch against the bare skin of his left arm. “And, please, go straight to the point this time. I don’t wish to waste another afternoon hearing about your gambling adventures.”

“Geez, so cold, are you mad at me? You are so tense today, you need to relax ~” Aventurine insisted, returning his hands to the top of Ratio’s shoulders when the scholar tried to dislodge them. Aventurine pressed his thumbs, as if to give the man a massage while starting another of his monologues.

Ratio let out a small groan when Aventurine refused to stop touching him, but couldn’t help but feel a shiver running down his spine as that massage-like motion started. It was almost good enough to make him ignore whatever Aventurine was ranting about this time. Ratio hated to admit it, but Aventurine knew how to get him to do things, to get him in the mood.

But there was a fatal flaw in this whole scene, one that not even Ratio’s most complex calculations could have foreseen.

Aventurine’s touch felt ticklish. Not like a light tingle or a bothersome fluttering over his skin. It felt annoyingly ticklish. Enough to have Ratio gritting his teeth to avoid letting an embarrassing smile make its way to his face.

“Veritas, are you listening? You're way too quiet - even for you,” Aventurine called, bringing Ratio back down to his senses. Aeons, he was so focused on finding a way to ignore that feeling that he couldn’t even bother to hear that gambling addicted blonde.

“No, sorry. I dozed off for a second. You were saying?” Ratio muttered, letting out a sigh of relief when those hands finally stopped pressing into his skin.

“Oh? Were my hands this good?” Aventurine teased and Ratio could hear the smirk in his voice. “My, I can always give you more if you want, handsome, you just need to ask nicely.”

“That was not- sigh. Suit yourself,” Ratio stopped himself, letting out what sounded like a confident chuckle, but it was only an attempt to hide what was really going on from Aventurine’s attentive gaze.

As someone who gambled that often, Aventurine had an amazing eye for details, noticing every little thing, catching all the signs and figuring out the meaning behind every sign one’s body could give. Still, Ratio also knew that man liked the palm of his hand and that there was a chance he could make it go unnoticed. “Anyway, back to the topic. What was it that you needed to tell me so bad that you couldn’t even knock on my door?”

“Oh, that?” Aventurine giggled, lightly tapping Ratio’s shoulders with the tip of his fingers, “I already forgot, it wasn’t that important.”

Uh oh.

Despite a calm exterior, Ratio felt like things were starting to drift from the path he planned them to go. It didn’t take a gifted intellect like his to figure out that something else caught Aventurine’s attention, that something aroused enough of his interest to put his ranting aside for a moment.

“You know, Veritas,” Aventurine started, stopping the massage and gently sliding his hand from Ratio’s shoulder down to his arm. Walking around the chair the scholar was sitting in, Aventurine took off his glasses with his other hand, eying the other man with a gleam in his eyes. “I actually wanted to ask if you wouldn’t have time to play a game with me. It’s been a while, no?”

Ratio crossed his legs, leaning back into the chair as he looked up to Aventurine’s face with a defiant, but uninterested look. “I could swear I told you I was in the middle of a readin-”

“Fantastic, so, it’s a simple bet, nothing ‘unreasonable’ this time, I promise,” Aventurine insisted, mimicking Ratio’s way of talking when using one of his comments about the blonde’s endless games.

“And if I agree, will you get yourself out of my room?”

“Maybe,” Aventurine grinned, squatting in front of Ratio and uncrossing his legs, resting each of his hands over Ratio’s knees. “Are you ticklish?”

“Hm? Is that your game?” Ratio asked mockingly, putting up a confident act.

“Not really, but it takes an important part on it. Because I could swear I saw you smiling when I was fiddling with your shoulders.”

“I’m afraid we are not on the same page.” Ratio sighed, resting his head on one of his hands while he considered the pros and cons of kicking that blonde away from him at that exact moment.

“Please, a man like you could have done better at feigning ignorance,” Aventurine smirked, slightly digging his fingers into Ratio’s legs. “Answer me, Veritas, are you ticklish? Because I bet you are.”

“Statistically speaking, every person is ticklish to some degree. It’s only natural for us to-”

“Nah-ah, I don’t care about statistics,” Aventurine interrupted before pulling himself a little closer, making Ratio freeze on spot. “I’m going all in on this one, Veritas.”

“...There could be a huge backlash if you lose this ‘bet’, Aventurine…” Ratio warned, hoping he could develop a way to sink into that chair in the next seconds.

“And that’s the fun part, Veritas. There is no thrill if there is no risk.”

Ratio could feel the heating spreading across his face when Aventurine looked at him like that. His heart beat fast and his thoughts crashing one into the other, giving him no logical solution for this situation. “That’s enoug- AGH!” Ratio squeaked like a dog’s toy when Aventurine quickly moved his hand and squeezed his side, his fingers digging into that exposed portion of skin and sending electric shooks up to his smart - but now useless - brain.

“Hah,” Aventurine laughed, “jackpot.”

“Aventurine, no. I’m seheheri- ah! N-nohoh!”

And so, Ratio found himself trapped against that chair, stuck between the soft cushions and Aventurine’s hands. The gambler didn’t waste a single second, using one hand to dig and stroke Ratio’s exposed sides while the other pinched the top of his thigh. “You know the drill, Veritas, I won the bet, so it’s only fair I get to enjoy my prize.”

“D-dohohon’t- ahAHah, t-take me fohohor one of yohohour stuhUHupid games!” Ratio managed to protest between giggles, holding into Aventurine’s arms as he tried to pry his hands off his body. “Now stohohop this, yohohou idiot!”

“Ah, as expected of you, Veritas, even laughing like this, you’re able to keep that sharp tongue of yours,” Aventurine mocked, dragging his nails against Ratio’s side and making the man’s laugh rise an octave. “But I have to say, your smile is as handsome as I expected. You don’t disappoint, do you? Heh ~”

“S-shuhush! AhahAHa, e-enohOHOhough!” Ratio threw his head back, taking as much air as possible to his lungs in a deep gasp before breaking into a renewed fit of laughter. He managed to get a look at Aventurine’s face through squinted eyes and - if the small tears clinging onto his lashes weren’t distorting his sight - he looked more amazed than ever.

Ratio couldn’t remember Aventurine smiling like that even when accompanying him to his wild gambling nights. Was tickling him really this amusing for him?

In those short seconds he was lost in his thoughts, Aventurine managed to get a hold onto Ratio’s legs and sit himself on top of his lap. Now at a much closer distance, they could admire each other’s features: the rare sight of Dr. Ratio with a flustered expression and Aventurine looking dazzled by his new discovery.

“So,” Aventurine whispered, giving Ratio a break from the tickling but pushing him against the chair by his shoulders, keeping him pinned in place, “where else are you ticklish, Veritas?”

“H-hah…” Ratio wheezed lightly, closing his mouth shut before his lips curled into a grin, “take a guess, Aventurine. No, rather… make a bet. But you know better than anyone else that the higher the stakes-”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever… I just want to see that handsome smile again, Veritas. It’s worth the risk.”

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail tickling #dr ratio #aventurine #aventurine x dr ratio #aventio #lee!dr ratio #ticklish!dr ratio #ler!aventurine #tickle fic #written before canon #veritas ratio

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breeyn · 7 months

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An essay rebutting the “bad writing” claims of s2 ofmd. Spoilers herein.

I’ll preface this with saying you’re obviously allowed to like and dislike whatever you want. I am in no way opposing that. And your reasons are your reasons. Have at. (Also - this is a collection of observations from the past few days, I’m not calling anyone out)

I AM going to rebut the idea that season two was poorly written and lost the spirit of what the show is about.

My favourite movie of all time is Empire Strikes Back. It’s been my favourite movie since I was four. I’m pretty sure it’s a fave of David Jenkins, too. He and Taika have made absolutely no attempt to hide their love of all things 80’s - Prince, the Princess Bride, Kate Bush, Star Wars, etc.

I have ancient video tapes (that I can’t play because who has a vcr) where Lucas is interviewed by Leonard Maltin? Malkin? I dunno. Who cares. Maltin asks him about the Star Wars (original trilogy) story arc. Lucas says “in act I, you introduce all the characters. In act II, you put them in a situation they can’t get out of, and in act III, they get out of it.”

That’s how it works. This is how stories and literary structures work.

Of course you’re not satisfied with season two. You’re not supposed to be.

The arguments I have read on why s2 loses the spirit of s1 is because no one heals. No one learns anything. No one moves forward properly. The person who makes the biggest move towards healing dies. The two main characters end the show doing the exact fucking thing they had promised themselves and each other they wouldn’t do. Our romantic lead still doesn’t understand his value or make any headway on addressing his tragic flaw. It makes no goddamn sense.

My gremlins in weird: it’s not supposed to. In Act 2, EVERYONE LOSES. This is how it goes.

I’ve read a lot of people saying “but this felt like a series finale, not a season finale.” We all know that outside politics play a part here, the strikes make everything precarious. I remember the last writers strike. It destroyed tv for fifteen years. Anyone remember Pushing Daisies? Some of y’all have never had your fave show cancelled with zero resolution for the characters and it shows.

Daddy J did us a kindness. He softened the blow of a tough season. After the brutal cliffhanger of s1, he gave us a little softness and hope. All those things you’re mad aren’t resolved? It’s because THE STORY ISN’T OVER.

No one on earth thinks “stuff all your trauma into a box and ignore it” is good advice. A way to actually live. This show did not have enough screen time to throw out dialogue for no reason. There was foreshadowing in s1 for s2, and there is foreshadowing for s3 in s2. This is a well-crafted story by very smart people who care very much for these characters. There is zero chance Frenchie explained the box in his head for no reason. The reason people have not resolved their trauma and growth is because they haven’t done it *yet*.

And friends - it’s not thinly veiled. They straight up fucking tell us what they’re doing.

Luke Skywalker spends the first two movies fucking up and desperately trying to prove himself and just generally being an idiot. Sound familiar? He ignores the lessons he is supposed to be learning to go off and do what he feels like doing, and loses fucking badly. At the end of Empire, Han is gone, Luke and Leia wave goodbye to the Falcon that has Lando and Chewy - the rest of their crew - aboard. Everyone has lost everything they care about. Vader is undefeated. Yoda is pissed. Nothing is resolved.

You see where I’m going?

If you think I’m stretching this too far, welp, when Ed tells Stede he loves him - the climax of the finale - Stede quotes Han fucking Solo. Like - *it’s right there*. The story structure. The reason everything is unresolved.

So yeah. They wave goodbye to their ship because they have wounds to heal (like Luke’s hand). The people aboard the ship have things to find. Ed and Stede have *not* learned their lesson about whims and how not to be like Anne and Mary. It’s not stupid that they’re doing the same thing, and it’s not pointless that we were shown Anne and Mary. It’s all relevant.

The resolution comes in Act 3. None of these people are done. The story is far, far from over. And just in case the studios want to be dicks about it, David Jenkins was lovely enough to not repeat my enduring heartbreak over Pushing Daisies.

Thank you, @davidjenks 🖤

#ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd s2 #ofmd s2 spoilers #ofmd spoilers

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dollietes · 7 months

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໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა mimi’s fic recs !

in summary these are my fav fics that i’ve read recently and are living within the depths of my brain. this is just a way for my to show appreciation for the writers who had written them <3 please support their blogs and check out their other works as well!

please minors dni with the smut works. respect writers and their boundaries!!

f :: fluff / a :: angst / s :: smut

pretty girls make graves by @ijtaimes f

OBSESSED with this series!! the blend of the summer camp setting, the love triangle story, and the clever incorporation of horror elements?@)2)2) and the interactive storytelling it has with the outfit choices and other general choices?? ivy, cousin i love you and your sexy brain. i can’t get enough of it actually!

two peculiar swans by @astralnymphh f / s

WHEN I TELL YOU ALL I RAN LIKE THREE LAPS AND SAT IMMEDIATELY WHEN I SAW IT WAS POSTED. the writinggg!! so top tier! the dialogue, inner monologue how the story just flows so seamlessly?? i’m so excited for the rest of this series bro like aestra ate😋 HYPE IT UP YALL!!

loser!abby by @abbyscherry s

when i tell you all i profusely **** and ***** while reading both of the loser!abby works. like if i speak I would be deemed as insane, a mad woman it’s crazy. read them like bedtime stories before bed😭

cowboy!ellie + this by @catfern s

SAVE A HORSE RIDE A COWGIRL! COWBOY!ELLIE NATION RISEEEEE. these hcs had me foaming t the mouth like i need someone to hold me back before I ramble about how much I love these hcs and eat them up and will continue to eat up anything cowboy!ellie 😋

in for it by @brackishkittie s

ONE WORD. DIVINE. DELICIOUS. SCRUMPTIOUS. i could not stop smiling like a school girl while reading this it’s embarrassing actually. also vivian’s smau’s >>>> got me into the fandom actually

rockstar!ellie + this by @phantombriide s

i could write a thesis about how much i love this and rockstar!ellie works. like this is what i breathe, i eat, i consume everyday. it is the mantra i read to start my days. my daily reading to begin the day. god bless.

academic rival!abby by @beforeimdeceased f / s

ACADEMIC RIVALS CLENCHES FISTS. RAHHHHHHHHHHHH I LOVE IT I LOVE IT I LOVE ITTTTT. every bit of this series had me craving for more oml. like i need academic!rival abby in my bed immediately!

being pregnant with wife!abby by @bayasdulce f

baby fever has hit me once again what can i say?😞 I need wife!abby to take care of me so bad it’s getting sad at this point. I just this broke me down and worsened my baby fever (had me making a pinterest board and everything goodbye😞😞)

neighbour!ellie + this by @loaksky s / f

NEIGHBOUR!ELLIE NEIGHBOUR!ELLIE NEIGHBOUR!ELLIE MY FAV FAV FAV! i remember the influx of them on my dash and trust i was eating good 🍽️ both parts had me folding, giggling, smiling, swinging my feet everything and everything.

try it on by @moncherellie s

another work that got me into the fandom!! I remember reading this for the first time and hiding my face and giggling into my pillow and the audios lord i felt so giddy that night lmao😭

doctor!abby texts by @eightstarr f

doctor!abby has me in a chokehold like that’s my wife and mother of our three children everyone can leave pls and thanks😁 and i mean that with my whole chest. those texts are actual REAL evidence of what our convos look like you all can move (im joking pls don’t take what I’m saying seriously😭) I just am in love with everything zoe puts out because it’s so good and so dear and special to me

cutty love by @totheblood f

anything star puts out tbh >>>>> absolutely in love with cutty love actually! I am a whore for any fluff and PINNING (GIVE IT TEW ME). this is just so soft and sweet and it’s everything I need like uggggh. the audios too just chefs kiss love everything about it!

streamer!ellie hcs by @inf3ct3dd f

SIERRA’S HCS 🔛🔝 SO GOOD EATS EVERYTIME YALL like gen they all have made their home in my brain and I can’t go to bed without at least reading one of them before i hit the hay.

knight!ellie by @heavenbloom f

FIRSTLY written so beautifully?&* i love everything about this and i tend to go back to this work when I’m in need of a fluff fix! I absolutely adore how everything is written yes I’m reiterating my point because ‘green eyes thirsty for the well that was your beauty.’ LIKE WORLD STOP. ARE YOU SEEING THIS?? ‘she was utterly dedicated to you, body and soul, and she would be by your side until her very last breath. it was a fierceness, this love that consumed her, and it was all yours.’ LIKE WTF

partition by @whore4abby s

reserving my *clears throat* thoughts for now but just know * **** **** *** *** ***** **** * **** ***** *********!!! 😁😁😁 everyone should read this ASAP!

sun don’t set by @hier--soir f

another heavenly piece omg!! so in love with the writing in here oh my god. it’s so soft and sweet and it just felt like a warm hug on a cold winters day i just. please read this!!

you love it when i play with you by @ourautumn86 s

i think i like passed out and had three nosebleeds because of this. i think about this more than i should. I think about in the morning, throughout the day and night. my daily read at this point like it’s just sooooo😋😋😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

my love mine all mine by @doepretty f

this one is special to me too like. for one the writing is so beautiful and it made me shed a tear and secondly I melted into a puddle like i want Abby so bad I’m going to be sick.

#🎀.favs #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie tlou #ellie williams x you #ellie the last of us #ellie x fem reader #the last of us #tlou abby #abby x reader smut #abby smut #abby headcanons #fic recs #abby anderson fanfic #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson fic

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janeyseymour · 2 months

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The Color Green

Summary: Based off of the Bradley Cooper cold open: Melissa is jealous that the famous movie star is flirting with you.

WC: 1.8k

Written in literally an hour this morning because I couldn't get it out of my head :)

Bradley Cooper is standing in Melissa Schemmenti’s classroom as a literal part of show ’n’ tell because one of her students found him. He found him at the corner store, and decided to bring him in because everybody else saw him and was gathering around. And because the Oscar nominated movie star is a considerate man, especially when it comes to all things Philly, he agreed to come in.

Melissa is absolutely starstruck. She’s always found him to be quite attractive, and she can’t help the little giggles that bubble up through her body.

“I’m just textin’ the other teachers,” the redhead tells him as she taps away on her phone.

“That’s fine,” he chuckles.

The rest of you come filing in to see if the second grade teacher was just pulling your leg or not, but there he is. You gather in the back of the classroom, and you find it quite odd when his eyes land on you. The have a particular sparkle when he looks at you- the one your girlfriend has when she looks at you. It makes your heart flutter.

You all take a picture with him, and he’s very particular that you stand right next to him, despite Melissa being there. She lets you in like the wonderful girlfriend that she is to you, and when the photo is taken, you have two arms around you. One is Melissa’s, of course- the other is Bradley’s.

He claims that he has to leave after that, so you all begin to file out and you head down to your classroom again, but he follows you.

“Hey!” he calls after you. You spin on your heel and look to him with a raised eyebrow.

“Hi, Bradley Cooper,” you chuckle. “How can I help you?”

“Well,” he scratches the back of his head. “I could use some help figuring out how to get out of this school. It’s been a while since I’ve had to navigate a hallway like this.” He flashes that charming smile at you, and it has you swooning even though you have no sexual attraction to him at all. Anyone with eyes can say that Bradley Cooper is quite the handsome man.

“Oh, just down the hall to your left,” you tell him with a dopey smile. “None of the alarm systems work, so you can really leave through any door.”

“Thanks,” he tells you, but he doesn’t make any moves to leave. “Uhm, are you doing anything later? Like, after school?”

You look up at those sparkling eyes. “I kind of have a thing later with all of the Abbott crew, but you would be more than welcome to come along! I know the other teachers would be thrilled if you showed up.”

His eyes dull just a little. “Yeah, that would be great actually. Could I get your number so you can text me the details?”

You fire out your number before smiling back up at him. “I, uh, I’m sorry. I really do have to get back to my classroom.”

“Right.” He scratches the back of his head. “Well, it was really nice to meet you…”

“Y/N,” you tell him as you stick out a hand. He shakes it, and then you both head on your way.

During lunch, you get a text from an unknown number. Hey. It’s Brad. Let me know where you guys are planning on going later, and I’ll be there.

“Are we just going to our usual spot?” you ask your girlfriend as you take a bite of your salad.

“Yeah? Why wouldn’t we?” Melissa rolls her eyes at you playfully.

You shrug. “Just making sure.” You type out that you’ll be at your usual bar for happy hour, and he quickly responds that he’s looking forward to seeing you again. You leave it at that. There’s no use in flirting with him when you don’t even like men, and you are happily taken by the redhead sitting next to you.

After work, you find yourself sitting in the back of the bar with your crew, and Melissa has her arm draped around you as you both sip on beers. You hear the doorbell ring at the front, and Bradley is making his way over to you when you look up. As he makes his way over, everybody sits up slightly straighter; Melissa retracts her arms from around you.

“Hey guys,” he smiles at you all (but his eyes definitely just linger on you) with an endearing smile. “Mind if I join?”

Of course, you shimmy in closer to Melissa. He orders another round for everyone on him, and your friends are absolutely giggly that he’s sitting with you all.

Despite him showing up ‘for the group’, he only really keeps his attention on you. And you can tell that your girlfriend is starting to get jealous. Still, she maintains her composure because… it would look really bad for a headline to state that a teacher from Abbott Elementary got into a fight with the Bradley Cooper.

After a bit of chatting, he excuses himself to go to the bathroom, and you glance to Melissa. She has a frown written on her face, a stark contrast from the bubbly smile she wore this morning.

“Babe, what’s wrong? I thought you would be thrilled Brad came!”

“You knew he was coming?” she furrows her brow.

“Yeah! He asked me what we were doing after school, and I told him that we were gonna be here and he could join!”

“Y/N,” Melissa closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “He’s flirting with you.”

“No he isn’t,” you roll your eyes.

“Yes he is!” Jacob chimes in.

“It doesn’t even matter,” you tell your group. “I am very happy in my committed relationship to Melissa.”

“He don’t know that though,” your girlfriend grumbles. “N I don’t like that he’s flirting with you.”

“He is not flirting with me!” you laugh nervously. “He’s just being friendly!”

“Friendly my ass,” the redhead mutters. “His eyes are only on you.”

“Babe, I usually like when you wear green, but this shade of green does not look good on you,” you tell her. “Please, just… be nice?”

“I will, but if he makes a move on you, don’t think I won’t come out swinging.”

“I cannot handle another court case,” Ava pipes up. “So don’t go startin’ no fights with pretty boy.”

Bradley makes his way back to the table, and as he sits down next to you, he’s a little closer than he was before. Now aware that he could be potentially flirting with you, you pay more attention. And… okay; he is flirting with you.

The more he flirts, the more you can practically feel the rage radiating off of Melissa. And finally, she’s had enough.

“Hey, Brad?” Melissa bites out. “I’d really appreciate if you’d stop hitting on my girl.”

The man’s eyes go wide. “What?”

“Stop flirting with my girlfriend, or we’s gonna have a problem here,” the redhead says cooly as she drapes her arm around you and pulls you in so close that you’re practically in her lap.

He puts his hands up in surrender. “Sorry, Melissa. I had no idea the two of you were an item.”

“Mel, I told you to play nice,” you laugh out.

“That was before he very blatantly started flirting with you in front of me,” your girlfriend tells you. Then she turns to the actor and grits out, “She’s mine.”

“She’s yours,” Bradley repeats. “I’m sorry.”

“You better be. One more flirty comment, and we’ll take it-”

“Melissa!” Barbara cuts off her work wife.

Melissa just leaves the unsaid in the air, although the Oscar nominee clearly knows where she was going. His flirting with you comes to an abrupt halt, and he directs his attention to the entire group. Your girlfriend keeps her arm around you protectively through the rest of happy hour.

When you all decide it’s probably about time to head out, Bradley picks up the tab like the generous man that he is. He’s met with a chorus of thank you’s.

“Anytime, guys,” he smiles. “Seriously, I did have a nice time. And Melissa and Y/N? I’m sorry if I caused any issues. I never meant to.”

“It’s all good,” you smile at him softly. Melissa just gives him a nod with steely eyes. You bat at her.

“Thanks,” she huffs out.

He heads out, and then the rest of you start to gather your things to head home for the night. You and Melissa walk out hand in hand, ready to start the walk back to your townhouse.

It’s a quiet and peaceful walk, and the entire time you think about how sweet it was that Melissa was willing to fight for you- fight a famous actor at that. You’ve never had anyone fight for you, ever. Usually, if your girlfriend found someone more attractive, you were on the curb before you knew it and left to pick up the broken pieces of your heart by yourself. But Melissa? She had quite literally told off a movie star and was willing to fight to keep you. And it makes you feel special; like for once you’re someone’s first choice.

“Hey,” Melissa says softly as she squeezes your hand and brings you back to the present. “Penny for your thoughts?”

“Hm?” you hum. “Oh, just thinking.”

“I know,” she chuckles. “What were you thinking about, amore?”

“How much I love you,” you smile at her and lean in to kiss her cheek.

She grins. “I love you too.”

“I- I’ve never had anyone fight for me the way that you just did,” you admit shyly. “It felt… really good, in a weird way.”

“What do you mean no one’s ever fought for you?”

“I mean…” you tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I was always the second choice, but you were about to fight Brad if he made another move on me.”

“Because you’re my girlfriend and I love you?” she states as though it’s the obvious. “He needed to be put in his place.”

“I know, I know,” you sigh. “But even in past relationships, I’ve always been a second choice.”

“Not with me,” Melissa squeezes your hand again. “You’ll always be my first choice. And I’ll fight anyone, even Bradley Cooper, in order to keep you.”

You walk up the steps to your house and unlock the door. She opens it and lets you head in first. When the door is closed, you have her pressed up against it.

“I know I said I didn’t like this shade of green on you,” you kiss her hungrily. “But that was a lie. Jealous Melissa… she’s really fucking hot.”

Tags (and lmk if you want to be included!): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne

#melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #abbott elementary fanfic #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary

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ghost-proofbaby · 1 year

Text

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR FOUR

in which eddie munson and you absolutely hate each other's guts. what happens when your friends make a bet that you can't spend more than twenty four hours consecutively together?

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, eventual smut, upside down does not exist, minors dni

→ pairings: modern!college!eddie x college!fem!reader

→ wc: 3.8+

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

4:00 ──ㅇ──────────────── 24:00

BIRDIE created a groupchat.

BIRDIE added DINGUS, NANCE, JOHNNY, & ARGYLE 😎

DINGUS: why the fuck is my name dingus

BIRDIE: so… are we going to talk about how in love they look in that photo?

NANCE: Eddie looks like he’s going to commit a federal crime, Robin.

DINGUS: how do i change my name

ARGYLE 😎: a sign of true love my friends

BIRDIE: @NANCE SEE? he gets it.

JOHNNY: Is this chat really necessary?

DINGUS: guys seriously. how the fuck do i change my name?

—

HOUR FOUR - 7:00 PM

Let the record show that you don’t normally care about Lord of the Rings. You’d seen the movies out of obligation to your friends, nothing more, nothing less. You usually held complete indifference towards the trilogy. As a matter of fact, you’d nearly given Robin an aneurysm the day you’d informed them all you preferred the Hobbit trilogy over the original movies.

Eddie, it seems, holds a similar sentiment to Robin.

“I can’t believe you just said that to me,” he sighs dramatically, sinking into the couch and looking far more comfortable than he had previously. A bottle of cheap beer dangles carelessly in his hand. He’d decided to grab both of you one the moment this argument had begun, “You casually bring up Gandalf, and then you proceed to have the worst opinions on the greatest franchise of all time. A crime against humanity.”

“I’m sorry,” you say sincerely through genuine laughter.

You were laughing. You were sitting on Eddie Munson’s couch, in his apartment, laughing with him rather than at him. It was a fluke in the system, a blip in the Universe. You tell yourself it’s just the effects of the beer.

“What’s next? You tell me you prefer Star Wars over Star Trek? Or, let me guess, you’ve never read the books?”

He looks nice like this, at ease. This hour might be setting the track record for the longest the two of you had gone without insulting one another, and you begin to wonder why you’d never been able to hold such a civil conversation with him before tonight. The two of you might not be agreeing or seeing completely eye to eye, but there was enough agreement to keep the entire debate chugging along.

He notices your silence as you take a sip of the beer you’ve nearly polished off, smirking around the rim of it, a bit of beer lingering at the corner of your mouth. “Oh my God. You’ve never read the books.”

“I never said that!”

“You never said you did!”

Your mouth is open, fighting back at the curl of the corners, unable to defend yourself because he was right. “I- Who even reads anymore?”

“Excuse me?” his voice pitches as he sits up straight suddenly, “Oh, no. There’s no way you just said that. There’s no way you don’t read.”

You shrug, and his beer is quickly set to the side.

“C’mon, everyone reads. You’ve got to have a guilty pleasure book.”

“Nope,” you tuck your bottle between your thighs, and catch the way his eyes had followed the bottle before snapping back to yours, “I just prefer the movies, I guess.”

“No one prefers the movies. You’re a goddamn liar,” he shakes his head and some of the frizzy curls fall against his collar bones rather than continuing to tickle his shoulders, “You have to read something. Romance novels, boring essays, the news. Hell, even magazines or that written porn shi-” he cuts off when you smile at the mention of magazines. “Why are you smiling like that? Stop it. It’s creepy. Do you read those porno books?”

“God, no,” you laugh. A lie - you’d certainly read excerpts from Fifty Shades of Grey he was referencing to understand what the hype was to no prevail, “Just ironic you bring up magazines. You probably consider yourself a real connoisseur, don’t you?”

He flushes crimson. His cheeks that had tinged pink from the warmth of the beer are now flaming red. “I have no idea what you mean.”

He clearly did.

“Right,” you drawl, “So which article in that Playboy caught your eye? The one about the psychological deep dive into what makes sex so great, or the interview with that one porn star? No, wait, I got it! It was totally the one that gave fifteen ways to drive a girl crazy-”

“It’s not a fucking Seventeen magazine,” he snaps, but the malice in his voice is dull, “There’s no lists on how to get the girl, it’s a porn ‘zine, Jesus H. Christ.”

“I know that, do you?” you press, reveling in the brush crawling its way down the side of his neck.

He runs a hand over his face, groaning, “I’m not even going to entertain you with an answer. Fuck off.”

“Do you just ignore all the photos of the beautiful women?” you don’t hold back your teasing, subconsciously leaning his way as your voice lilts with sarcasm, “Ignoring all those bushes? Or maybe you just prefer the Brazilian cut?”

“I liked it better when we were talking about your illiteracy,” he deadpans, staring straight ahead at his entertainment center.

“I never said I couldn’t read, just that I choose not to most of the time,” you finally pull back a bit, scared to push it all too far. You pull your legs up beneath you on the couch and move the beer that has gone warm to the table on the opposite end as his, “Sue me for trying to make friendly conversation.”

You await his expected response about how this was not friendly conversation. You start to do mental gymnastics of a way to bring up the specific model he had marked the pages of, of the eerie resemblance she bears to you and a way to push his buttons regarding it. This conversation was following your script, not his.

Or at least, it was.

“Fine. I prefer the bush, I always find the lack of hair kind of weird,” he says, throwing you off your game effectively. He stares at you with now expecting eyes, “What about you?”

You’re grateful you’d stopped nursing the beer, or you surely would have choked, “What?”

“What’s your preference?” he clarifies, not backing down, “On yourself, on partners. Whatever.”

“I- I don’t- I never-” you stumble over your words, at a complete loss for an answer. It only makes him smirk as he’s now the one leaning in closer, close enough to catch the smell of his cologne concentrated on him.

You hadn’t realized you’d adjusted the boyish smell of the apartment until this very moment.

“See? Not so fun when you’re the one getting asked the personal questions.”

He’s right – you shouldn’t dish out what you can’t handle him throwing back into your face.

“Fine,” you mimic him, squaring your shoulders, “Bush.”

“On yourself or others?”

“Myself,” there was no use in being shy now, “But also on, uh, partners. Kind of unfair to expect something from someone I wouldn’t give in return.”

He nods in surprising consideration at the notion. His face twists as if he’s taking words you’d thrown out there so carelessly to heart, as if there’s some hidden message that even you hadn’t realized was laced in the notion. For a moment, you start to believe he’s committing the words to memory before he answers you.

“That’s fair,” is all he says.

A moment of intense thought for that?

“What? That’s all you’ve got to say?” you scoff, and busy yourself with the beer again out of nerves. It’s warm and bitter on your tongue, but it’s better than looking him in the eyes. Warm, honey eyes you’d never really cared to notice before.

“Yeah,” he lifts his shoulders into an offhand shrug, “I mean, what else is there to say? Like you said, you can’t expect something from someone you can’t return.”

Another silence drags out, and this time, it’s stifling. You never thought you’d live to see the day where Eddie being quiet would bother you, but it does. The lack of words in the air is leaving too much room for thought from both of you. It’s giving you too much time to think on those warm, honey eyes and those damn dimples. Trivial things about Eddie that you don’t care to remember past tonight.

“My friend collects vintage Playboys,” you blurt out, internally cursing yourself immediately. What a stupid conversation segway.

Should have teased him about the dog-eared pages, you regretfully think as you dare to look his way.

His face is surprisingly smooth, eyebrows quirking up into the frayed edges of his bangs, “Oh really?”

You nod, “Yeah. Hell of a lot more bushes in the seventies.”

A lot less of that model you like, you silently add, once more not voicing that concern out loud.

The dimples return. Those fucking dimples. “Hm, guess I should check them out, then.”

“She collects them for aesthetic purposes,” you continue to ramble, filling the air, unsure of why you’re even defending yourself. You’re just waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Eddie to dissect the small piece of your life you’ve offered, “It’s… It’s really cool, actually.”

“It sounds cool,” he agrees gently.

The other shoe is left dangling in the air, if it even continues to exist.

You think about his earlier question, of whether you really wanted to keep up a miserable act for the entire twenty four hours. If the last hour hadn’t already solidified your answer, you knew now for a matter of fact that he had a point, even if he did proceed to insult you after the question. You didn’t want to spend this time miserable. The passing of time came easier when it was like this, all rounded-edged banter and friendly words exchanged. When Eddie Munson wasn’t being an asshole and making personal digs at you, he was actually a nice person to have around.

You’d never tell him that, of course.

“It’s why I collect all that,” he motions his hand towards the shelving of figurines and trinkets, “I just think it’s cool, you know? I… Uh, I sort of lied earlier. Most of that shit isn’t that expensive. But it’s not about how much it’s worth money-wise, it’s just worth a lot to… to me.”

A glimpse of crimson, a flash of vulnerability that proves that Eddie has a heart just as you do. It beats erratically, and it can bleed just the same.

“That makes sense,” you offer in response. You may not get it, but you wouldn’t push his buttons on the topic. They may be nothing but clutter from your perspective, but the same could be said about the vintage Playboys your friend collects. The same could be said about plenty of things that are sentimental to you. “Doesn’t it get creepy, though? Like, you bring home a girl-”

“Or a guy,” he interjects, making you smile.

“You bring home a girl, or a guy, and you’ve just got Gandalf staring you down while you make a move. Or… Or, Darth Vader?” you squint to pinpoint another figurine, “Is that Darth Vader? Didn’t you say Star Trek is better than Star Wars?”

“Never said that,” he points at you with a tilt of his head, “I just don’t prefer Star Wars over Star Trek.”

“Have you seen Star Wars? It’s way more entertaining.”

“Have you seen Star Trek?” he counters, but it’s clearly rhetorical as he continues on, “I like both. Having a preference for one doesn’t mean I’m completely against the other. Besides, the light saber effects are fucking incredible.”

“So you prefer the prequels?” you ask eagerly.

“I guess. I mean, the original trilogy is still badass and a classic,” he stands abruptly, and you’re worried you’ve said something wrong, but he just walks over to the Darth Vader figurine to pick it up and bring it back over with him as he flings down onto the couch, now several spaces closer to you rather than opposing ends, “It’s kind of hard to beat the ‘Luke, I am your father’ reveal,” his voice dips down to a deep tone, a fairly spot on impersonation, “But it was also nice seeing his origin story.”

“Plus Ewan McGregor and Hayden Christensen are gorgeous,” you add, almost daring to lean over and bump shoulders with him. But you don’t. You keep what little space remains between the two of you.

“Of course,” Eddie rolls his eyes, “The eye candy is what gets you.”

“And the cool effects!”

“Right. Next you’re going to say you definitely watched for the plot, huh?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

“And the plot’s name just happens to be Ewan.”

You bite down the grin that starts to ache your cheeks, because you’re not supposed to smile around Eddie this much. “Now you’re getting it.”

The hand holding the Darth Vader figurine suddenly thrusts out in your direction, and you find yourself jumping a bit. When you don’t take it, he waves it around a bit, raising an eyebrow, “It doesn’t bite, you know.”

“You said to not touch your shit.”

It’s a pathetic lie, you both know it. But he doesn’t know how scared you are to brush fingertips with him, how the way his arm being so close has electricity buzzing from the soles of your feet to the crown of your head. One small shift, one outreached hand, and your skin would brush his.

It would surely be nuclear. An explosion with no survivors, least of all you.

“Oh, c’mon. You’ve disregarded that rule the entire time, why start being a goody two shoes now?” he teases.

Which is fine, except Eddie teases a certain way – with his entire body. His knee knocks into yours, he leans into your space, a boyish grin spreads over his lips. You’ve seen him dance around this kind of lighthearted conversation with everyone else in your friend group except you. It’s uncharted territory, and your heart nearly breaks out of your chest from its rapid racing.

You’re just lucky that there’s two layers of jeans between your knees. The nuclear explosion will have to wait for another day.

Instead of an answer, you reach out and grab the figurine nimbly by the small leg. Your fingertips narrowly evade Eddie’s and you’re eternally grateful and his arm retracts. You poke and prod, gently wiggling the red, flexible stick that serves as his lightsaber and pinch at the edges of his cape.

In your silence, Eddie speaks, “It’s not a crazy collectible or anything, like I said. It probably would have been more valuable to keep it in its packaging, but one time Wheeler brought his little sister over while they were in town, and she wanted to see him out of the box, so I took him out. You know Wheeler, right?”

You shake your head, inspecting the figurine even closer now. It still looks brand new; you’d never be able to tell that a child, presumably, had played with the ‘toy’.

“Oh,” Eddie looks taken back, faltering slightly, “Sorry, I- I just sort of assumed that…. You, uh…. You had met Steve’s children.”

“Oh!” your head shoots up from where your nose had been nearly pressed into the figure, taking in the detailing of the chest piece, “You mean Mike? I’ve heard about him, yeah. Just in passing, though.”

There’s more for Eddie to say, it’s clear in the way his mouth falls open with the corners quirked, but then you’re interrupted by a phone ringing.

Your phone.

Steve’s contact photo occupies the screen for the second time tonight, a ridiculous photo of him scowling at the camera in a yellow jumper while holding a can of pringles in front of him, one of his hands bringing a single chip to his pouting lips.

“Let me answer it,” Eddie insists, holding out his hand as you stare down at the phone, still chiming annoyingly.

“Were they supposed to call this often?” you ask, knowing well enough that Eddie didn’t have the answer.

His hand waves in impatience, and you don’t put up a fight as you let him take the phone and swipe the answering bar, focusing instead on the Darth Vader discarded into your lap as he puts the call on speaker.

“Hello?” Eddie answers in a chirpy tone.

“How many times do we have to te- hold on. Munson?” Steve starts off aggressive, but his tone melts into confusion, “Why the hell are you answering her phone?”

“Because I’ve murdered her,” he flatly replies, but his face doesn’t match his tone at all.

He fucking winks at you. Your grip on Darth Vader tightens until you’re afraid you're about to snap it.

“Not funny.”

“Not a joke.”

“Where is she, Eddie?” Steve sighs like an irritated parent, in no mood for games, “Please tell me you didn’t manage to make her lock herself in a room again.”

“I told you. She’s gone. Sacrificed to the Dark Lord or whatever. Just got to go dump her body in the lake-”

You shouldn’t joke along with him, but you still whisper the correction of, “The canals.”

“Sorry, I mean the canals.”

Another deep sigh. You can picture the way Steve was currently pinching the bridge of his nose at the two of you.

“I heard her, you idiot. Now that we know you’re both clearly alive and well…. Where the hell is our photo proof?”

You both share a look, and you quickly mouth, already?

Eddie shrugs and mouths back, I guess.

“We lost track of time,” you finally say out loud, still locked in eye contact with Eddie. His brown eyes are surprisingly captivating, several autumn shades all woven together. Burnt orange leaves, red apples, brown sweaters. You never thought you’d be able to see a season in someone’s irises, yet here you were, picturing it clear as day. “Let us hang up and we’ll send the photo.”

Steve starts to speak, but Eddie’s thumb is quick to end the call. The moment your lock screen stares back at both of you, you look at the time.

7:41. Shit.

“Oops,” Eddie whispers as he hands the phone back over, “They really gave us quite the grace period that time.”

“Yeah,” you breathe out, quickly opening your damn camera app. “So, how do we want to do this one?”

Eddie thinks for a moment before he launches himself back to his side of the couch, and motions for you to toss him your phone.

And once again, you put your faith in him, not even hesitating this time.

It happens naturally; you both mirror each other, drawing up your knees, your sock-clad toes bumping firmly against one another. Your back is supported by the worn arm behind you, similar to how Eddie’s is, as you face him.

He quickly angles the camera towards you, sticking a hand out into the frame while raising his middle finger. You don’t know what to do, so one hand holds up the Darth Vader as the other mimics flipping him off.

A soft click from your phone. The photo’s taken, and you’re not even sure if you were smiling.

“Trade,” he leans forward, one hand holding out your phone, the other reaching out for Darth Vader.

You oblige, and go through the same process for his photo. His white socks contrast your black ones, and the corners of his lips twitch upwards no matter how hard of a line he presses them into. You can’t look at him directly, and settle for watching him through the screen as you hit the small grey button to snap the photo.

Just as quickly as he had shoved away from you, he’s back at your side, watching you send off the photos to the group chat with a thumbs up emoji. You take a deep breath, scanning over the pair of photos until it’s confirmed that they’re delivered, and lock your phone. Your brows are furrowed in your reflection staring back at you through the black screen.

“Do you really want to keep up the miserable act the entire twenty four hours?” Eddie’s voice echoes in your mind.

No, you don’t. No matter how wrong this levity with Eddie feels, no matter how uncomfortable it is each time you remember that he’s meant to be the enemy and not someone to share laughter and smiles with, you don’t want to waste these remaining twenty hours being miserable.

“What’s up?” Eddie’s actual voice echoes in real time as you continue to stare at your reflection.

“Just thinking,” you grunt. The thought of admitting your decision to Eddie is much more intimidating than simply acknowledging it to yourself.

“Dangerous.”

Instead of quipping something rude back, you decide to be vulnerable with Eddie. You decide to crack yourself open just a small bit, just as he had done microscopically when he spoke of his collection of items. It’s a dangerous gamble, and you don’t give yourself the chance to overthink it.

“You were right, earlier,” you force the words out, fighting the way they try to cling onto your tongue and remain safely in your throat.

“About… what?” He looks distrusting, and for good reason. He said plenty of things earlier - you could be preparing to remind him of any number of rude things he’d spewed.

“About keeping up the miserable act,” you explain, turning your head to him and abandoning the phone, “You were right. I don’t want to be miserable this entire time. It… It goes by faster when we’re not about to strangle each other, believe it or not.”

You swear you see his shoulders sag in relief. “Well, yeah, I could have told you that. I did tell you that, actually.”

“Shut up,” you force a scowl, “My point is… I don’t know, maybe, we could try to- try to just- we could be-”

“Civil?” he finishes the sentence you stumble over.

You nod, “Yeah. We could be civil.”

The word feels foreign on your tongue. Civility was not something you’d ever considered with Eddie, but the last hour had proven it to be possible.

“Okay,” he nods along with you. He turns his entire body to face you, knees once again bumping as he sticks out a hand for you to shake, “Deal. We will try to be civil the rest of the time.”

“Civil,” you repeat yourself again, more sure this time, still staring at his offered hand.

An olive branch. The opportunity to work together to survive the next twenty hours. The opportunity for his bare skin against yours.

You think again of nuclear explosions and pulsing electricity, of open chests and matching scarlets, of smashing glasses against walls and ruined parties, of wounds healing over in scar tissues as they glow a gentle pink.

Civil. You wonder if that’s one of the words they’ll include on your gravestone as you reach out your hand and let Eddie’s palm meet yours.

taglist: @catherinnn @haylaansmi @gaysludge @paprikaquinn @manda-panda-monium @audhd-dragonaut @amira0303 @blushingquincy @hellkaisersangel @eddieslittlewh0re @ajkamins @prettyboy200 @munsonzzgf @blue-eyed-lion @digwhatudug @madaboutjoe @wickedslashdivine @sweet-villain @somespicystuff @big-ope-vibes @jadequeen88 @sylviin @emma77645 @notbeforelong @lolalanaie @lo-siento-ama @happy-and-alone @micheledawn1975 @aysheashea @moon-huny @munsonswrld @bambipowerblueaddition @averagestudent03 @bakugouswh0r3 @mattefic @mxcheese @bietchz @nativity-in-black @tlclick73 @stezzil @vngelis @coley0823 @folklorebau @luvmunson86 @theherothesavior @keene200213 @hargrovesswifee @m-chmcl-rmnc @cherrymedicine13 @iunaelumen777

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#twenty four hours #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #let's see if i can get it to post in one try this time

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elfiewhore · 2 months

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Mommy domme elf story

Hello my dears and darlings! Finally, the long promised elf mommy domme story is here! Or at least, the first two chapters. As I began writing I realised that this idea had a firm hold on my mind and I want to write a slow, lewd and enticing tale. So that means this will be part 1 of ? - The first two chapters.

Please feel free to give me any feedback and/or tell me what you'd like to see next! This story is written from the perspective of the reader as the member of an adventuring party. The gender and name of the protagonist is purposefully left vague which, while it does mean some specific descriptions will be a little nonspecific, hopefully means that you can easily identify yourself in the story <3 This story is strictly 18+ and contains/will contain content including but not limited to: Humiliation, peeing, diapers, AB/DL, gfd, age regression, crossdressing(depending on how you identify), chastity and monsterfucking. All that out of the way, without further adieu I give you the first two chapters of my as-yet-unnamed story!

Chapter 1: An unexpected parting “I’m afraid I cannot continue along this path. To be quite frank you are all far too reckless. The strain it places upon me is far greater than any I have faced before. I wish you well, but I must depart.” That was the last words of your party’s healer, a priestess sworn to a god of healing. She was your last resort, having had to beg for the mercy of the church to provide her services free of charge. And she wasn’t wrong. Your party are notably reckless, charging headlong into combat without a second thought. This devil-may-care attitude had at first earned you some renown, as your bravado led to taking on the most dangerous of missions posted in the Adventurer’s guild. Slaying harpies, undead, and even a gryphon! The stuffed head of which is now resting within the guilds’ storage as collateral for your replacement arms and armour after the last debacle. Not that it was your fault, mind! You were always good. You listened to the numerous healers that had come and gone through your party. Standing where they wished, protecting them, ferrying potions. You were always their favourites, it wasn’t fair that the others always dragged you down. But you couldn’t leave either, the reputation stuck. You sent out subtle enquiries to other famous bands only to be rejected at each turn. Even the less reputable groups required steep entry fees as ‘insurance’ should they require costly resurrection magicks. Truly it was a terrible situation. And now here you were sitting in the foyer of the guild. The wooden walls of this esteemed establishment groaning under the weight of trophies and banners of heroes long past. They did little to inspire as you sat with your chin in your hands, waiting for a representative from the guilds’ treasury so that you can convince them not to repossess your equipment. “Just give ‘em the puppydog eyes. No one can resist those!” Your group had told you. And this was also true. It wasn’t your fault that you weren’t especially strong or imposing. It was useful for fulfilling your role but unfortunately led to you often being underestimated or treated childishly. Your mind swirled in a thunderstorm. Travelling without a healer was tantamount to a death sentence. Out in the wilderness, even the smallest cut could lead to a life-threatening infection. Not to mention mummy rot, lycanthropy, wyvern stings. Everyone had a role to play and you were missing one. “Excuse me. Is this the Adventuring Guild?” Came a breathy, soft spoken voice. Airy and light. You glanced up to see a woman standing before the desk, speaking to the clerk. Your breath caught for a moment in your throat as you took her in. Long, beautiful hair the colour of spun gold and braided with gems that glittered like stars tumbled down her back like a waterfall, framing the back of this curvy, enchanting figure. Every movement, no matter how small, was performed with effortless grace as she rested a staff of living wood against the desk. Atop it rested a crystal so pure one could see right through it, and silvery threads of magicked metals intertwined with the knots and whorls of the staff. Pretty (and valuable) as that staff may be your eyes refused to be pulled away from this woman. Clad in a robe of forest greens that flowed about her as if pulled by an unfelt breeze. Trumpet sleeves made of thin, almost translucent fabrics revealed pale and unblemished skin. But most notable of all, perhaps, were her ears. An unusual thing, one might thing, to focus upon. But the tips were long and pointed.

An elf.. you think to yourself. A rarity to be sure. These reclusive, powerful creatures lived for millennia within their enchanted forests and reclusive holds. To see one traveling the world was an unusual sight indeed, for they often cared not for the affairs of men, halflings and other mortal beings. Content to remain within their own communities and spend their time plumbing the depths of the arcane and the nature of the divine, among others. “Yes this is the Ad-” the clerk stops, their eyes widening as they look up at this woman. “H-How may I.. Help you?” “Hehe! Oh please don’t be alarmed, sweetie. I don’t bite!” The woman’s voice again, a soft whisper. The susurration of a blanket being draped around you. “I’m only here to see if any parties are in need of a.. Oh what’s the word in this era.. A physiker? No..” “A healer?” Your eyes widen. That was your voice. Why did you speak? You groaned internally. Drawing attention to yourself never ended well. The figure turns, blessing you with a radiant smile. “Yes! Oh thank you!” Her eyes regard you from above as you are given a chance to look upon her face. Flawless as the rest, her eyes were a strange cavalcade of colour. At once purple, then gold, then blue as they took you in. Though no wrinkles could be seen, for elves are forever youthful, her countenance held a certain age to it. A wisdom beyond your own. You attempted to be polite, to meet her gaze. But that was difficult at the best of times and you were somewhat distracted by the revelation that her dress did little to contain a bountiful chest. The creamy pale skin stark against the deep green dress. It did not look ill-fitting, mind. Simply.. This woman’s bust demanded attention. Her ruby-clad lips draw your eyes northward once more. “My my! Let me help you with that!” She coos, in a voice tinged deeply with maternal concern. She reaches down and cups your cheek with a touch so delicate and warm you at once wish to melt into it. Your face had been rather beaten up in the last adventure, and with none to restore your vigor now you simply had to patch them up. But now the aches subsided more swiftly than they had ever before. Not just those upon your face, as the elf whispers her magic, it travels through your body. Soothing the woes of fatigue and injury. Even old wounds you had long since accepted receded before her radiance. Her hand pulls away and you can’t stop your face from following. Unbalanced, you collapse upon the floor with an embarrassed groan as you are snapped back to reality. A sound graces your ears. Like a babbling brook meets the chime of crystals. You realise she’s giggling. Your cheeks flush red as you rush to your feet.

Her laughter stops as she looks genuinely apologetic. “I am sorry, little one. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. It was simply.. Cute.” Normally being called such a thing enraged you, frustrated you. But now… It felt comforting. “It’s okay.” you mumble.

“A-hem!” a stuffy voice draws your attention. You see the stuffy mustache first, like a hateful caterpillar resting upon the craggy face of a mountain filled with debt. The treasurer. “You again. I told you before if your party cannot prove to this guild that you are capable of finding a consistent and reliable healer to prevent any further deaths we will be forced to repossess the equipment we have graciously provided! I shan’t hear any more arguments or delays! So I ask for a final time. Have you a member capable of sealing wounds and ensuring your survival?” their stern gaze pierces you and your words wither in your throat. You tried to muster some kind of response but all that begins to croak out is a pathetic “N-no..” “Now now!” A scolding voice rang out. “There’s no need for that! No matter how urgent you feel your issue may be there’s no excuse for snapping! Or being impolite! If you must know ‘tis I that has joined this worthy band of warriors and, personally, I believe you would scarcely find a better purveyor of magicks and mending than one of my people. Now unless you would doubt the provenance of my ability, I have matters to discuss with my noble companion!” It was the elf. When did- You didn’t ask her to join you?! You barely spoke a word to her. And yet here she was, standing beside you with an arm protectively holding you against her side. Your cheek presses against her soft, warm breast through the thin fabric as you are held with a surprisingly firm grip.

Chapter 2: Mommy’s home

The elf, whom you learned was named Nimue, was true to her word. Requesting (or gently demanding) to be taken to where your group were staying to introduce herself. She was apparently a mage of great renown amongst her own people who had left the isolation of her home to travel amongst the younger races as, in her own words, she ‘missed the energy and vibrancy of youth’ You couldn’t very well say no. You needed a healer. Furthermore elves legendarily had little need for riches which was a source of great frustration for any trader that fancied trying to arrange a trade deal for their crafts. So payment seemed not to be an issue. Dutifully you returned to the house your party had purchased many moons ago. Now somewhat dilapidated, the garden overgrown. It made you well up with shame to bring such a perfect and ethereal figure to this place. But her face remained impassive as she was led inside not that the interior fared much better. Broken bottles, dust, overturned chairs. Too often had your party returned here either too tired or drunk to care about cleanliness and it had become simply a part of the decor. First to meet you were the leaders of your band. A pair of twins, one a swordsman named Krennan and the other a channeller of barbaric rage named Mithra. “Well now, pipsqueak. Who’s this you brought with yo-” Began the swordsman, only to be cut off. “I think that’s quite a rude nickname to give someone, don’t you think?” The elf’s voice came in clipped tones, her hands on her hips. “How would you like it if someone called you pipsqueak, hmm? Just because you’re bigger doesn’t mean you get to bully others you know!” The twins look stunned. Confused. They hadn’t even exchanged names and already this lady was scolding them like a schoolteacher. “Well? Not to mention the absolute state of this abode. I’m told you are the ‘leaders’ of this little group? Hmm? Well I don’t see much leading if you leave this place in such a mess!” You couldn’t help but smile, though you attempted to hide it. To see these two being taken down a peg was… Wonderful. You glanced up at this woman, this saviour and your heart leapt just a little. You clung to her side even though you technically could have left at any time. Nowhere felt safer than right here, especially after her gentle arm almost habitually draped itself around you. “Now do either of you have anything to say for yourselves?” Her voice never raised, not once. But the tone, the power, the authority. It was all that was needed. The duo mumble and hang their heads, somehow cowed by this beautiful stranger. “Now apologize.” She commands. Krennan begins to mumble but withers under her gaze. “S-Sorry for calling you a pipsqueak.” He says a little more clearly. “That’s better. Now dearies. Thanks to a certain someone here-” she announces, rubbing your arm affectionately. “-I am your new… What was the word again in this era?” She asks you. “Healer” You say back up to her, feeling an utter rush of pride that you could be helpful to her. Especially as she beams back down at you. “I am your new healer! I’ll make sure you’re all back in bed safe and sound each and every night!” Her words are accompanied with a happy giggle. “But first sweeties, I think we need to do something about this mess, don’t you? After all. Cleanliness is next to godliness! So come along, pick up a brush. No dillydallying!” She ferries you and the other two further into the house, ushering you like children.

The next few hours consisted of chores. Cleaning the house, trimming the garden, dusting every inch that could be dusted. Your other companions - A scout named Callie and a sorcerer named Ilnax, were roped into the affair with sleepy confusion. That they fucked regularly was the worst kept secret in the group and today was no exception. But Nimue had some kind of.. Allure. Power. Nothing magical, you don’t think. Simply an aura of maternal authority. You found yourself eager to please, trusting that she knew best. And before long, the house was transformed. No longer a dilapidated sty, it looked somewhat close to actually livable! “Okay sweeties! Well done! I’m so proud of you! Teehee! And now it’s bath and bedtime for all of you!” That snapped some of them out of the strange spell she had woven. “Bedtime? We’re not-” Began Callie, only to find Nimue’s smiling face gazing down at her. “I am responsible for your health and that begins with a good and consistent sleep schedule! I’m told you four are constantly staying up far too late. This won’t do, so long as I’m here you will sleep at a reasonable hour! You wouldn’t want to die because of a silly mistake you made because you were cranky, would you?”

As usual, you were last for the bath. You were used to it. The others simply barged their way past you to take the hot water for themselves. As you stepped into the bathroom you blush as immediately you realise that Nimue is also in there, standing near-naked before the tub. You never thought you would see an ass that perfect but you could probably bounce a gold coin off that thing as silken underwear are nearly swallowed by the cheeks. She turns with a yelp, covering her bare chest but then chuckling and dropping her hands revealing perfectly pink nipples. “Oh, it’s just you! Hehe! Close the door silly.” She says with a chuckle. Your cheeks burn, not just because of her nudity but how somehow you don’t count as someone she would be embarrassed by. As if she doesn’t see you as an adult that would find such a sight enticing. But you find yourself closing the door. “It’s getting late, so I thought I would join you in the bath! That’s okay, right? No one changed the water so I did it myself and added some firestones. It should be nice and warm! C’mon!” She beckons, turning and slipping off her panties before climbing into the tub. You debated leaving, but why should you? She was inviting you in. And the water was literally steaming hot. You hadn’t had a warm bath in so long. You realise that while you had been debating internally your body had made the choice and you were already sinking into that warm, steaming water. The tub, small as it was, would only fit if you sat between her gorgeous thighs. They cushioned your hips like pillows as she wrapped her arms around your stomach, pulling you back against her to give you a hug. Her breasts squishing against the back of your head as she does so. “I’m so glad I found you, little one. This was just what I needed! Oh this is going to be a wonderful, wonderful time!” She coos, bringing some water up and beginning to wash you. Overwhelmed, you simply sit still. It was nice, finally. To have someone stand up for you, take care of you, protect you. Finally you could just relax. Just.. Relax.. “Ooop! It looks like someone’s having a bit of an accident!” She titters. Your eyes flutter open as you look down and to your utter horror you see between your legs a definite tinge of gold in the water. Did you- You pissed yourself! You immediately try to scramble out, stammering an embarrassed apology but again those powerful arms keep you still. “Shhh…” She soothes, softly petting your head. “It’s okay. I understand. You were relaxed. Don’t worry, I won’t tell.” She whispers into your ear. “I’ll take care of it. I promise. But for now.. We should make sure there’s nothing else in there, hmm?” Unsure of what she meant, you simply settled back into the water as her hand trailed down between your legs. You tense as she touches your most intimate place, but quickly relax as her gentle hands slowly start to rub and tease you. “W-What are you…” “Helping you relax.. Shhh..” She whispers into your ear as she continues just gently touching you. Holding you in a motherly embrace as her delicate strokes make you shiver so sweetly. You had never been touched like this. So carefully, tenderly. Not trying to simply get you off as quickly as possible. But wanting to fill your mind with a haze of pleasure. It was overwhelming. It was everything. You settle even more comfortably against her chest, half turning to nuzzle into her breast as she holds you close. “That’s my little champion. My brave heroic adventurer! You’ve done so much, such a good job! Now just relax. Let me take care of you. Let mommy take good, good care of you now…” Those words reached your ears and swirled into your mind. Soothing all worries, caressing your anxious soul. You didn’t even realise when you felt your hips lift and grind against her hand as you cum for her. She was taking care of you now. You were hers, happily and hopelessly hers. You could never have imagined how far that would go.

#trans nsft #nsft #ab dl #ab dl kink #diaper kink #piss kink #diaper humiliation #diaper wetting #fantasy kink #ab dl baby #mommydomme #mommy k1nk

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babydollmarauders · 9 months

Text

OURS — TREVOR ZEGRAS

trevor zegras x fem!reader

part of the Speak Now Fic List

summary: in which y/n and Trevor’s relationship is constantly being criticized by outsiders but they know their love is real.

warnings: references to nsfw activities, hate from outsiders, dialogue heavy, not proofread

notes: written semi-quickly, shorter than my other recent works, idk how i feel about this one, but it’s done and i hope y’all like it. ending is kinda iffy but oh well.

it seems like there’s always someone who disapproves of Trevor and i’s relationship.

my parents don’t like his carefree and confident demeanor. his younger brother didn’t trust me because i was someone new. his friends didn’t like that i write songs about exes and my relationships.

but most of all his fans and the media, judge us like they know us personally.

mostly judging me.

as a singer, my every move was criticized and picked apart. what i wore was either too homely or too dressed up. i was too skinny or too big. my heels were too tall, but then my nike’s were too ‘tom-boyish’. but the judgement had only seemed to get worse once i started dating Trevor.

suddenly his fans were saying i wasn’t good enough for him. analyzing our body language in photos and claiming that i didn’t act like i liked him. saying i was using him to further my fame.

but on the other side, i had my fans commenting that i was too good for him. citing his previous playboy ways and saying that he wasn’t smart enough or mature enough for me. claiming his bad boy attitude drew me in and that i would ‘come to my senses’ soon.

***

y/nofficial

liked by trevorzegras, gracieabrams, and 151,308 others

y/nofficial summer with my boy toy <3

tagged trevorzegras

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trevorzegras my beautiful girl, you were off to a great start in the beginning and then you added the last photo

y/nofficial wdym? i think that ones my favorite!

trevorzegras whatever floats your boat mamas

gracieabrams cutest couple in the world ♥️

y/nofficial you’re the real loml <3

gracieabrams shhh i thought we weren’t telling trevor?

user26 NEW MUSIC COMING SOON?!

user81 i wonder if it’s about Trevor

jackhughes was i cut out of the last pic?! i thought you loved me, y/n 😪

y/nofficial in the wise words of Ariana Grande “you ain’t my boyfriend”

user40 the way she’s leaning away from him in the 5th pic? oh she’s over him

user95 she’s finally over the bad boy thing, i guess

user02 thank god! i don’t want her to get hurt!

user73 @/user02 HER to get hurt?! she’s gonna end up writing a slandering song about my baby Trevor and painting him to be an asshole

user02 @/user73 lmao yeah, well the shoe fits. why shouldn’t she write a song showcasing his true colors?

user73 @/user02 i’m not about to fight with a Y/N stan of all people— have fun supporting your famefucker

user02 @/user73 oh please, she doesnt need to use your little hockey asshole for fame when she’s already more well known than him

user12 we love a PR relationship 🫶

***

my converse squeak against the marble floors as i leave my execs meeting, catching the attention of many up and coming artists that are waiting in the lobby. i can feel their gazes following my every move, from when i stop in front of the elevator to when i press the down button, and i can’t help but laugh in my head; reminiscing of when i was the same way. star-struck and in awe whenever i saw any artists leaving the same doors i just walked out of.

but now, having been in the business for two years, that feeling has come and gone, replaced by small talk with those very same people that i once looked up to.

“hi.” i smile politely at a redheaded girl that sits close to the elevators, a notebook in her hand and stars in her eyes.

she looks around, as if searching, before she lets out an awkward chuckle. “oh- hi!”

the elevator dings twice before the doors open to another crowd of wannabe pop stars, and i step aside to let them out before waving a goodbye to the doe-eyed redhead and stepping into the elevator.

i’m excited to get back to my boyfriend, but that excitement vanishes when i scroll through twitter on my uber home.

—

oh- that was fast.

i can’t help but scroll through the replies and quote tweets, and by the time i arrive back home, i’m disheartened to say the least.

i thought i was being nice by greeting her? even if i couldn’t stay and talk. but apparently i should take this as a lesson for the future, don’t say hi to anyone unless i can stay and chat.

and my mood only worsens when i make it into the house, calling out my boyfriend’s name, to which i get no response.

“Trev?” my voice echoes off the walls of our home as i step into our bedroom, in search of the six foot tall hockey player. but i come up empty, finding that he still isn’t home from training camp.

i slide my phone from my pocket, drafting up a text before ultimately trying my luck at a phone call instead.

the outgoing ring reaches my ear twice before it stops, the call picking up.

“hey babe, what’s up?” Trevor’s tone is light and airy, painting an immediate smile across my lips.

“hey, i was just checking in.” i sit upon the fuzzy white blanket that’s folded along the foot of our bed, running my hands over the soft fabric. “i thought training was supposed to end at noon?”

“oh, yeah, it did.” he confirms, and i can hear someone else talking in the background. “Jimbo and i decided to grab lunch and catch up a bit.”

“oh, okay.” i nod, despite the fact that he can’t see me, and i can hear him conversing with someone.

“shh. hold on.” he tells someone. “he wants to say hi.”

i laugh as Jamie’s voice comes through the line. “HEY Y/N!!!”

“hi Jame!” i reply, listening as he grunts, wrestling the phone from Trevor, i assume.

“i’ve missed you!” he sounds closer now, while Trevor sounds farther away, calling out for his phone back, confirming my suspicions. “when do i get to see you again?”

“i’ve missed you too. if it’s alright with Trevor, and if you’re free, you can come over for dinner tonight?” i tell him. “i can go to the store and grab stuff to make my garlic and basil chicken pasta.”

“oh my favorite! i’m in! i don’t care what Trevor has to say about it, to be honest.” his response causes me to laugh, while my boyfriends calls out an offended ‘hey!’

“see you later!” Jamie yells, as i assume Trevor gets his phone back.

“did you need anything else, babe?” Trevor asks distractedly.

“no, nothin’ else.” i stand, gathering my car keys from my nightstand. “actually, i’m gonna go grocery shopping, can you think of anything we need?”

“condoms,” he replies unabashed, and i blush at the thought that Jamie heard him. “and frosted flakes. i finished ‘em off this morning.”

i roll my eyes before teasing, “the condoms or the frosted flakes?”

“both.” my skin heats up at the reminder of our morning activities, Trevor having woken me up before the sun even came up.

“oh- uh- okay.” Trevor laughs as i stumble over my words. “i’ll grab some more…of both.”

“thanks, love you!” he waits for my reply before hanging up, and i pad out of the bedroom, slipping my shoes back on by the front door before heading out to my car. i wasn’t big on driving, usually letting Trevor take that responsibility, and avoiding it when possible, so i only really used it when i had to go grocery shopping, relying on ubers to go anywhere else.

i slip into the drivers seat, huffing when i find that Trevor messed with my seat again. a harmless prank he likes to pull, just to see when i drive again and if i’ll notice. i adjust my seat before i pull out of the driveway, the radio playing faintly to fill the silence.

i’m nearly done with my shopping trip when it happens.

“he still uses those?” i’m mid-tossing the family size box of Frosted Flakes in the cart when the words reach my ears, and at first, i don’t even notice they’re being spoken to me. “he always said it felt like he was wearing nothing.”

i glance over to find a tall blonde standing next to my cart, staring down at my items.

“i’m sorry?” my brows furrow in confusion.

“oh- the condoms. Skyn Elite? Trevor used them back when he and i used to hook up a couple years ago.” the girl smiles, the supermarket lights reflecting off her sparkly lip gloss. “you’re his new conquest, right? y/n?”

“i’m his girlfriend, yes.” i nod, pursing my lips together in a straight line.

“right,” she nods. “girlfriend. you got the envied title.”

“i guess so.”

she gives another falsely innocent smile. “good luck keeping it! he’s insatiable, is he not? seemed like he was always keeping an eye out for the next girl.”

i’ve never particularly cared about the ghosts of Trevor’s hookup past. why would i be? i had them too, so who was i to be bothered by his? besides, right now, he’s mine. i’m the one he comes home to; the one he loves and talks about a future with.

“well, i should get going.” i tell her, already beginning to push the cart towards the end of the aisle, in route to check out. “it was nice to meet you.”

i was lying, sure, but i wasn’t going to let her get to me.

she bids me goodbye as i walk away, and when i glance back, i see her faux smile drop, her eyes rolling as she sneers, turning the other way.

yeah, i pretty much expected that.

i’ve just made it into the kitchen, dropping the grocery bags onto the counter, when my phone begins to ring, buzzing in my pocket with an incoming call.

i do an awkward dance of trying to free my hand from a twisted bag handle, before retrieving the vibrating device from my pocket, my fathers contact taking up the screen. pressing accept, i hold the phone up to my ear.

“hey, dad!” i chirp, opening the refrigerator to begin unloading the food.

“hey, pumpkin. what are you up to?” his voice drifts in my ear as i put away a gallon of milk.

“just unloading groceries.” i inform him. “what are you and mom doing?”

“oh, nothing.” he sighs. “just missing our little girl.”

i laugh at his dramatics.

“i know, i need to come visit.” i stuff a few cartons of berries and a bag of grapes into the fruit drawer before shutting the fridge.

“so catch me up, honey. what’s new?”

“nothing really. i’m working on some new music, and i had an exec meeting this morning to discuss how the album is coming. but other than that it’s same old same old.”

i open the cupboard, taking care of the box of cereal and a couple bags of chips as i speak.

“and you’re still dating the uh…” he trails off. “the one with the tattoos?”

i can hear the disapproval oozing from his voice and my eyes roll in my head.

“Trevor, yes.” i confirm, walking down the hallway to our bedroom and placing a few things on Trevor’s nightstand before setting a new bottle of shampoo on our bathroom counter.

“yeah, him.” he sneers, and it’s then that i hear the front door open, two sets of footsteps reaching my ears. a smile spreads across my face as Trevor calls out my name. “i don’t understand why anyone would do that to their body. that’s permanent, ya know.”

“mhm.” i hum in disinterest. “hey, dad, i gotta go. i’ll call you later.”

“oh alright, honey. love you!”

“love you too.” i hang up the phone as Trevor steps into the room, smiling at the sight of me.

“there you are.” he beams. his arms snake around my waist, pulling me against him, and his head dips down to bring his lips to mine.

“here i am.” i mumble against his lips, causing a chuckle to arise from his throat.

“Jamie is in the living room. followed me home claiming that he had to see you.” he tells me, his eyes lighting up at the mention of his close friend.

“yeah, i invited him over for dinner.” i inform him. my hands cup the back of his neck, pulling him back down for another kiss.

my whole body relaxes, any tension disappearing when his lips meet mine. his eyes scan my face as he pulls away, and his faces falls, his lips forming an exaggerated frown.

“what’s wrong?” he whispers, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear before pulling my head to his chest.

his heartbeat echoes in my head, calming me immensely.

“nothing.” i mutter, my eyes falling shut when he begins rubbing circles on my back.

“i don’t believe you.”

“it’s nothing, really.” i insist. “nothing that’s actually bothering me. just a little annoyed.”

“what annoyed you, baby?” he sways us back and forth and his hand on my back trails down to tickle at my side, making me giggle.

“well,” i sigh and he pushes me back to look into my face. “i said hi to a girl at warner today-”

he hums, encouraging me to keep talking.

“but it was just a quick ‘hi’. apparently she’s a fan of yours, and she thought it was rude of me to greet her and then not stay and chat.” i explain. “so she took to twitter to say so.”

Trevor huffs, his nose scrunching in annoyance. “well that’s just stupid. you don’t owe anyone a conversation…. except me. because you love me, obviously.”

i laugh at his joke, making his face light up at his successful attempt to cheer me up.

“what else, baby?”

“well then, at the store, i ran into one of your ex-hookups.” i continue, and his brows thread together in confusion.

“which, ya know, doesn’t bother me.” i clarify. “but she made a comment on the condoms we use and implied that our relationship wouldn’t last long.”

“our love is not hers to speculate on.” he gruffs out in annoyance, and i nod along.

“i know. so i walked away.”

“i’m proud of you, love.” he presses a kiss to my forehead, a smile resting upon my face as he does. “is that all?”

“almost.” i breathe out. “then i got home, and my dad called as i was putting away the groceries.”

“okay.” he nods, obviously confused why i would be annoyed about my father calling.

“and he made some snide remarks about your tattoos.” Trevor barks out a laugh at that, quite used to people commenting on the art that adorns his skin.

“i ignored them, and hung up pretty much right after, because you got home. but, i just wish he could look past them, because then maybe he’d see the kind, funny guy that you are and understand why i’ve given my heart to you.”

his eyes squint as he grins at my words, bending his neck to pepper kisses across my nose and cheeks. i squeal at the affection and he pulls back to look me in the eyes.

“baby, i don’t care what your dad thinks of me. only that you like me. and i’m pretty sure that you love me just the way i am.”

i nod, biting my lip and holding back a smile. my cheeks turn hot, a blush settling over them, and he smirks at the sight.

“i don’t want you to worry your pretty little mind, baby.” he coos. “so someone was wrongfully upset that you didn’t take time out of your day to talk to them— who cares? people like to throw rocks at things that shine. and you, my darling, shine so beautifully bright. they’re just jealous.”

i roll my eyes at his cheesy statement, but the sentiment warms my heart. “thank you, Trev.”

“any time, baby.” he pulls me in for another hug, my head resting on his chest again. “our love is ours. nobody else’s. what other people have to say about it, and about us, doesn’t matter.

“you hands belong in mine, my heart belongs to yours, and no matter what life throws at us, i’m by your side.”

i open my mouth to respond, but i’m cut off by another voice.

“aww, that was sweet.”

i lift my head from Trevor’s chest, our heads both turning towards the entrance to our bedroom to find Jamie standing there with a cheesy smile.

“Jimmy, what are you doing in here?” Trevor lets out a wheezy laugh at his friend, his head dropping back and his shoulders shaking. the sound is like music to my ears.

this man.

i am so irrevocably in love with him.

“i got bored.” Jamie shrugs. “you guys were taking forever.”

#speak now fic list #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras #trevor zegras imagine #trevor zegras blurb #trevor zegras fic #anaheim ducks #nhl fic #nhl imagine #faithlynn’s writings <3 #faithlynn’s insta edits <3

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btsgotjams27 · 4 months

Text

bust a move | jjk

✨ title: bust a move | ✨ pairing: jk x f!reader ✨ genre/au: smut, pwp, married!au, parents!au ✨ word count: 825 | ✨ rating: m/18+ MDNI ✨ summary: you finally return the favor. ✨ warnings: kissing, groping, oral (m. receiving), handjob, he comes in her mouth (but she spits it out) ✨ a/n: i blame ck jk for this horny word vomit, and also thanks to ck jk for bringing out of my smut hiatus (err--i'm also a little rusty, so forgive me). this is definitely not beta'd, so i'm sorry for any typos or grammar mistakes.

[ SERIES MASTERLIST ] previous > busted again

You hum, “G’morning,” inching towards Jungkook, your hand moving to his crotch, but he resists your touch. “What’s wrong?” Brows furrowed and a pout on your face.

He scans your face, eyes dropping down to your chest that’s barely covered by your silk pajama top. “I’m, uh, wet.”

A soft chuckle escapes your lips. “You mean you had a wet dream?” He avoids your gaze, embarrassed at the fact that he still gets them occasionally. “It happens. You have a dick. It’s only normal.”

Jungkook sighs, embarrassment written all over his face as he hides under the covers. You follow suit, joining him under the duvet. “I’m just–I’ve been really horny lately, that’s all.”

Raising an eyebrow, you scoot closer, cupping his face, staring into those starry doe eyes. “Did you know that you can have sex with me anytime you want, and I will probably never deny you?”

He grunts, closing his eyes for a moment, imagining all the things he’d do to you. “Mm…don’t tell me that.”

With another wiggle toward him, your body soaks up his warmth along with the heat that’s encapsulated underneath the duvet. It’s early. 6 AM. Lucky for you, your two littles have decided to sleep in, but you have other things on your mind—mainly returning the favor since he wouldn’t let you suck him off that one time in the bathroom.

“Will you…” You pause, your fingers drawing invisible stars into his sculpted chest, then trace down the center to his chiseled abs. “Let me…you know,” you say softly with a smirk on your face.

“Baby, I’m all yours. I’ll take anything you want to give me.”

Your thumb hooks into the elastic of his sweats, pulling them down over his hips along with his briefs, letting his cock spring free. A soft hiss leaves him when you wrap your hand around his shaft. Stroking him a few times, you love watching him revel at your touch. The noises and staggered breaths has you clenching around nothing.

Jungkook remembers that he can touch you too, kiss you even. His hand grips your waist, then moves to grab your ass, kneading them with desire and lust. The ache for him builds within you, but this is about him.

You bring your lips to his, not letting his moan escape, for fear of little ones bursting through the door. The two of you don’t need to be busted again.

He breaks away from the kiss, molding his lips to the column of your neck and collarbones.

“Kook…” you whimper. “Let me take care of you.”

Pulling back, he sighs with a chuckle, “Okay—sorry, I got a little carried away.”

You draw the duvet, uncovering the two of you. Peering at the door, you make sure it’s closed. But for good measure, you jump off the bed, running to lock the door—just in case.

Running back, you push Jungkook on his back, crawling on top of him, legs on either side. His cock is erect, ready to go. Your mouth envelops his length, sucking the tip as your hand holds his shaft, pumping and twisting at the same time. His fingers comb through your hair, grasping it lightly. You look up and his dark eyes are focused on your mouth then flicks up to meet yours.

He sucks in a deep breath when you take as much as you can in your mouth, drool glistening as you’re bobbing up and down his hard cock. You hasten your pace, licking and sucking like your life depends on it. Popping off, you rub his tip against your tongue. He’s throbbing, quivering. He’s ready to topple over. You take him in your mouth again.

Jungkook sits up. “Baby—baby, I’m gonna cum. I know you don’t like it when I cum in your mouth.”

You love how considerate he is, but you’re mentally prepared for this. “It’s okay. Cum in my mouth,” you say, going right back to your previous position.

Your eyes flick to his, witnessing the subtle ripple effect of pleasure course through his body. His chest heaving, abs tightening, cock throbbing. With a strangled groan, he spills seed into your mouth. It’s warm, salty to taste, but you continue milking him for all he has.

He opens his eyes with worry because the last time he came in your mouth, you gagged not being prepared for him. But you’re confident and composed, calmly getting up, heading to the bathroom sink to spit out the cum in your mouth.

Standing at the threshold, a huge grin spreads from ear to ear and you open your mouth. “See, I’m totally fine,” you chuckle, heading back to bed. You place a kiss on his lips.

“You’re—” Jungkook grunts, “You’re too much for me sometimes.”

You sit beside him. “I’m too much for you?”

He nods, kissing you again.

And like clockwork, the handle on your door is rattling, busting the pair of you.

#jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook imagine #jungkook drabble #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n

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thefallennightmare · 5 months

Text

Just Pretend-nineteen

*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Parings: Noah Sebastian x Musician! Reader

Warnings/Tropes: language, angst, fluff, smut, star-crossed lovers, right person/wrong time, cheating, talks of mental abuse.

Summary: “I can wait for years, heaven knows I’m not getting over you.” A story about two star-crossed lovers, that always find their way back because their souls are entwined. The universe desperately attempts to bring them together, no matter what the cost.

Authors Note: I realized today that Sarah and I have been working on this story for almost TWO MONTHS. Holy shit. Talk about a slow burn! I don't think it's ever taken me this long to write an active story. Also, there are a few sentences in Greek and Italian in this chapter. You can find the translations at the end of the chapter.

Collaborating With: @thescarlettvvitch(better give her all the love as well)

Tags: @thescarlettvvitch @ozwriterchick @waake-meee-up @notingridslurkaccount @niicoleleigh @sammyjoeee @xxrainstorm @dominuslunae @notmaddihealy @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @iknownothingpeople @writethrough @thebadchic @blackveilomens Claudia on Tumblr @tobe-written @blacksoul-27 @loeytuan98 @loverofagoodbeard @comfortcharactercraze @lma1986 @plutonikchaos1 @spicywhenspeaking @lyschko666 @somewhere-diamond @hi-fancy-seeing-you-here @koskeepsake @bngurngheart @shilohrosechicken @emzandthevoid @casangel1986 @qualityvoidcollectorsblog @myownthoughts12 @jilliemiw86 @bellaboo967 @halloweenaesthetic

NOAH

My knee bounced in a tangent along with the clock on the wall behind Dr. Poulos as she tilted her head towards me, waiting for my answer.

“I’m sorry, what was the question?” I blinked slowly.

She gave me a small smile, tapping her pen on her notebook; something I’ve realized she did when she was ready to ask me a hard-hitting question.

“How have the panic attacks been?” Dr. Poulos wondered.

“Uh,” I rubbed my jaw. “It’s been better, I suppose. I still feel them starting every once in a while but my friends have been great at helping me through them.”

“That’s great,” she smiled. “I’m glad to hear that. I know it was a problem for you from our first session.”

“Yeah, I’ve come to realize there were a few aspects of my life that hindered me more than helped me.”

Dr. Poulos’ brows raised. “Like what?”

“Up until recently, I would drink; a lot. And smoke weed every so often. People say it’s the lesser of the drugs but it affected me in such a way that I didn’t like the man I saw in the mirror. Same with the alcohol. So, I’ve decided to become sober.”

That spread a wider smile on her face. “I’m proud of you, Noah. It’s not an easy thing to overcome but to see how determined you are makes me very happy.”

I ran my hands over my thighs while standing up straighter on the couch; her positive praise made my heart beat a bit faster.

“I just want to be the healthiest I can be. Your body is a temple, ya know? It’s only been a few weeks but I can already tell a difference in the way I sing.”

“That’s exceptional, Noah. I’m happy to hear that. It’ll help the course of your life. But I must ask, do you feel it’ll leave a part of you open and willing to accept the love you think you deserve?”

I pursed my lips. “What do you mean?”

“Well, as you mentioned previously, it sounds like Y/N has had some complicated relations with a man who was in a state of addiction. Do you feel that maybe, a part of your being sober can help you leave that part finally open? Allow you to see that you can be loved.”

When I remained silent, letting her words rest in my mind, Dr. Poulos shut her notebook and set it on the table between us; next to one of those sand zen garden things.

“What you're doing with Bailey and hiding your true feelings for Y/N doesn't seem to be helping, right?”

I shook my head with a long sigh. “I never meant for things to go this far.”

Dr. Poulos leaned forward to rest her elbows on her knees, stippling her fingers.

“Has Y/N ever given you a reason to doubt the things you say to her?”

“No. Never,” I answered without missing a beat.

“Then what’s stopping you from telling her how you feel?” She brushed a strand of brown-graying hair from her eyes.

With Dr. Poulos’ words replaying in my mind, I sat down on the steps of her office while clicking on Bailey’s contact name on my phone. As it rang, I tapped my fingers on my knee to drum a random beat.

“Hey, it’s Bailey. Leave me a message!’

Cursing to myself, I wished that she had answered because I didn’t want to do this with her voicemail but I had no other option. This needed to be done.

“Bailey, it’s me- Noah,” I sighed while pinching my eyes shut. “Listen, I didn’t want to do this over text or on your voicemail. But I thought it best you hear me say this. I wanted to discuss it with you the other day but shit came up.”

My eyes watched as a few people walked past on the sidewalk in front of me.

“Look, I never wanted to hurt you, you’re a nice girl but this-us-isn’t working for me. I’m-I’m sorry if this hurts you. Truly. I’m not good at words all the time but I will say that I wish you the best and I hope you have a nice life.”

After hanging up, I could physically feel the weight lift off my shoulders and heart. Breathing was easier and lighter, so with this newfound feeling, I quickly dialed Y/N’s number.

“Mochi!”

I could hear the smile in her voice.

“Hi, angel. Are you busy?” I asked while rising from the steps to walk a few steps to my car that was parked in the street.

“I’m walking into an appointment right now. Can I call you later?”

Ignoring the way my heart dropped, I started my car and sat there for a moment.

“Of course. I’ll be in the studio but I’ll always answer for you.” My hand ran over the steering wheel.

“So sweet,” Y/N chuckled and my stomach fluttered. “There’s a reason why I gave you that nickname.”

We quickly said our goodbyes and my mind was filled with the heavy conversation I needed to have with Y/N. I didn’t even realize the familiar figure bounding up the steps of the same office I left mere minutes ago, her yellow sundress flowing in the wind.

READER

My eyes were trained on the small sand zen garden on Dr. Poulos’ table as she tapped her pen against the notebook in her lap. The clock ticked annoyingly loudly behind her, almost mocking me as I continued to leave her question unanswered.

“Y/N,” Dr. Poulos’s voice was firm, breaking me from my trance. “You mentioned your mother contacted you the other day?”

I played with the hem of my yellow sundress. “Uh, yeah. She doesn't do it often but when she does, she really lets her feelings known.”

“And what are those feelings?”

“The same bullshit. My mom doesn’t agree with the lifestyle I’ve chosen. She thinks it's a waste of time,” I shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal. “It’s who she is. Being Greek, I was raised to have large but realistic dreams. My father on the other hand wanted and still wants me to follow my heart, he wants me to go after what I want, what I need. There’s a line between both of them.”

“You know,” Dr. Poulos tucked a strand of her brown-graying hair behind her ear. “There’s a study that says insecure attachment styles can develop as a result of poor parenting. Research indicates that attachment in childhood affects the development of familial, social, and romantic relationships later in life. Do you feel this has deeply affected or influenced your relationships?

I pursed my lips. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you’ve had a pattern of falling for men who aren't good for you yet believing they are real love when you know subconsciously you deserve better.”

“Maybe,” the word trailed off my lips, uncertainty weighing heavy on my heart.

Dr. Poulos hummed, crossing one leg over the other. “It sounds that way, doesn’t it? Are you running from Noah because you’re afraid you’ll disappoint him? Afraid he’ll do what your mother often does? You’ve seen the way your parent's marriage was like growing up, that has to be a hindering factor, doesn't it?

My jaw ticked. “My mother was unfair to my father. I’d never do that or treat anyone that way.”

“I know you won’t, Y/N. You know it yourself, deep down in your heart,” she patted a hand over her own heart. “Because from what you told me about Noah, I don’t believe that he would act the way your mother has. You won’t disappoint him. And he doesn’t want to do that to you either.”

I shook my head widely. “He’s with someone else so it doesn't even matter.”

A small smile lifted at the corner of her lips. “Quite the contrary, Y/N. You said it earlier you wanted to tell him the truth. He isn’t your mother and again, from what you’ve told me it sounds like you both may want the same things. You’re just not trusting yourself. You’re relying on your trauma and issues with your mother to get in the way.”

“Wow, nice observation,” I snorted. “How am I supposed to fix that?”

Dr. Poulos ignored my snarky attitude. “If your mother has been unreliable, then you may need to lean on other people who are for support. Socializing with friends and learning to be vulnerable with others can help increase emotional connection.”

“Malcolm and Chase are reliable,” I stated.

“It sounds like it, from what you’ve told me,” she nodded. “There’s also Noah. His support can take some time to develop but having stable relationships with others can be part of healing. And most of all, self-care.”

I left therapy with a hopeful heart and bright smile. Dr. Poulos always knew what I needed to hear as much as I tried to fight it. Peaking down at my phone, my pulse quickened when I noticed a missed text from Noah.

Mochi 🍡: New episode of Attack on Titan dropped. I can pick up lunch. Your place or mine?

Giggling, I typed out my response, not letting anything ruin this euphoric high I felt.

NOAH

I stood outside Y/N’s front door, shaking out the nerves, and knocked on it. I had a bag of take-out food in my hand, something she requested from her favorite burrito place.

“Hi,” she smiled while letting me in. “Did you remember the Dr. Pepper?”

I chuckled while holding up the cup. “Light ice.”

As we set out the food on the table in their dining room, I motioned towards the various easels and splattered pain on the carpet. “Studio?”

“Yeah,” Y/N gave a sheepish smile. The lighting in here is better than my bedroom; although not by much.”

I took in the various paintings of abstract lines and colors, some of random landscapes, and one of Salem.

“These are really good, angel.”

“I’m glad I decided to do this. Painting has been a great way to escape from reality, even for a little bit,” she took a bite of her burrito. “Oh, extra guac? How’d you know?”

I shrugged. “I just do.”

We ate in silence for the next few long moments and as much as I tried to quiet the loud voices in my mind that screamed at me to tell Y/N the truth right now, it was extremely difficult.

My eyes took in the glimmer of her bracelet as she reached for the chips and I couldn't stop the smile that spread wide to my lips. Y/N was still wearing the jewelry I bought her and it made me feel proud.

“Where’s Chase and Malcolm?” I asked, noticing the quiet.

Y/N took a large drink of her soda, reveling in the taste. “Hiking. They left earlier this morning and typically don’t come back till later. So I have the place to myself.”

Just as I was about to speak, a persistent knock sounded on the front door, and she turned towards it with a confused stare.

“Expecting anyone?”

She shook her head. “Nope. Probably someone selling Girl Scout cookies.”

“If they have Thin Mints, I’ll take four boxes,” I called after Y/N.

Her laugh echoed throughout the room but soon seized when she opened the door. I noticed the way her body went rigid and I slowly rose in time to see a tall but petite brunette all but push her way inside.

“Hi, koukla. I would have texted or called but it seems like you have an issue with checking your phone,” the lady peered around the space, a sour look on her lips.

“Mo-mom? What are you doing here?”

Shit.

I knew there was a history with Y/N’s mom but never knew how deep it ran.

“I was in town and thought to surprise you. Since you never talk to me anymore,” her mom tsked.

Finally, her eyes landed on me, standing in the threshold of the living room and dining room; gaze hardening.

“Who’s this?” She asked Y/N.

Internally I snorted at how she asked Y/N rather than asking me.

“I’m Noah,” I introduced myself while brushing away the strands from my face.

Her mom hummed before nodding towards the back end of the house. “Give me and my daughter some privacy.”

“Mom!” Y/N seethed.

Noticing how the tension shifted, I gave Y/N a soft smile. “It’s alright. I’ll go say hi to Salem.”

With my back to them, I walked down the hall and heard her mom mutter something in Greek.

“Giatí échei makriá malliá?”

“Eísai apísteftos,” Y/N responded in a stern voice.

Sitting in the Y/N’s bedroom with Salem perched on my lap, I left the door wide open so I could listen in on the conversation. It may have been wrong to eavesdrop but something deep inside of me told me to be on edge, just in case.

“You should have called, Mom,” Y/N said.

“You never return my calls.”

“Gee, I wonder why. You exactly haven’t been that peachy the last few times we’ve talked.” I could hear the slight edge in Y/N’s voice.

“I thought I’d told you I don’t appreciate the way you speak to me.”

“It’s a two-way street, Mom. You get what you give.”

Salem purred loudly in my lap and I continued to scratch him in the spot I knew he loved; between his ears.

“I’ve always hated when your father used that line,” her mother sighed.

Someone was pacing, their footsteps echoing loudly down the hall, and I peered down at Salem.

“Your mom seems pretty upset right now,” I frowned at the feline.

His bright green eyes stared back at me, simply demanding one thing silently; more pets to which I obliged.

“Have you been to the doctor lately?”

“Since when do you care, Mom? You never ask how I’m doing.”

Salem jumped off of me when I slowly rose to my feet, deciding that I needed to be closer to Y/N, just in case.

“I know how bad Endometriosis affects you, Y/N. I’m simply wondering.”

I could almost hear Y/N roll her eyes as I neared the end of the hallway, out of sight but could still see just enough. Y/N stood with her hands on her hips while her mom sat comfortably on the couch.

“I’m fine.” Y/N kept her answers short.

Her mother pursed her lips. “And how’s the career?”

Now it was my turn to roll my eyes at the way she said career.

Y/N snorted. “Please, like you give a shit.”

“Watch your language!”

“You’ve never supported me with my music. Hell, with any of my dreams. So don’t start acting like you give a shit now.

Her mom rose to her feet, narrowing her gaze. “That’s not true. I only want what’s best for you, Y/N. You don’t want to end up like your father and be stuck.”

“He wasn’t stuck,” Y/N scoffed while clenching her fists.

Her mother clicked her tongue while brushing away Y/N’s hair from her face. “Yes, sweetie, he was. And I’m telling you, no man will want to deal with someone that’s always on the road. What man is going to wait around or understand this lifestyle? What future are you gonna have?”

My jaw clenched at hearing those words because I knew it wasn’t true. There was a man who wanted Y/N; me. I would wait for years if I had to. Whenever she was ready, I’d be here.

But hearing how her mom talked to her made me realize that there was a reason why Y/N never spoke of her and why she was so apprehensive of any future relationship.

“We’re not talking about this,” Y/N stepped away from her mom to stand on the other end of the couch, giving more space between them.

“Once again, you’re avoiding a tough subject. I didn’t raise you this way,” her mother chastised.

Y/N’s jaw dropped. “Raised me? Are you fucking kidding me? You barely were home, too busy focusing on your career leaving Dad home to raise me!”

I smirked at hearing Y/N mock her mother in how she said career moments before.

“Your father was always your favorite. But it was me you stayed with after the divorce!” Her mother's voice was raised.

Fearing this would end in such a bad way, I pulled my phone to send a text to Chase.

Me: Y/N’s mom is here and I’m afraid shit is about to hit the fan. What should I do?

His response came almost immediately.

Chase: Fuck. Whatever you do, Noah. Don’t leave. Stay until we get there. Every time her mom either contacts her or shows up, Y/N goes into a dark place. Malcolm and I are leaving right now and should be back in an hour.

I swallowed thickly as my stomach dropped. If the guys were worried about Y/N’s mom being here, it could only mean one thing.

Disaster.

“I stayed with you because you made me feel guilty!” Y/N choked on a sob. “For years I wondered why I didn’t feel a connection with you so I thought staying with you would bring us closer. But instead, you dropped the you’re adopted bomb on me; on my birthday!”

Her mother had the audacity to shrug.

“You probably would have found out eventually. I simply sped up the process.”

Y/N shook her head. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Because I tell the truth? You think people are going to stay with you with the lifestyle you’ve chosen?”

“Oh, gods, we’re back on this again?” Y/N ran a hand through her hair. “I have a lot of people that support me.”

“Who? Your friend?” Her mom pointed a firm finger towards the hallway where I was still hiding around the corner. “Do you think he is going to wait around?”

For years if I have to.

“No. No one will, Y/N. You’re like your father with these pipe dreams.”

“Pipe dreams? I didn’t realize wanting a family was a pipe dream,” Y/N spat.

Her mother gave her a somber smile, clicking her teeth. “Kouklamou, I thought we talked about this. You can’t have a family, not the traditional way anyway. You need to realize that no man is going to want to go through all that trouble to have a child. It’s not worth it.”

Y/N and I both flinched at the same time, those words almost verbatim with what Trey used to say to her. There I stood, my fists clenched by my sides, I rolled my shoulders back, glaring towards the petite brunette with dark eyes.

I was feeling triggered while I observed this entire thing; it felt intrusive at first but now feels like I’m behind fifty feet of glass.

It made sense now, why this loving bond between Y/N and I was inaccessible. In this mode, I had to take great care not to damage these bonds of love, this relationship, this friendship, and this woman in front of me, who very early on became everything to my heart and soul. For in time, the glass disappeared and my love returned stronger.

I understood.

From my corner, I could see how the kitchen table had seen every emotion, from the sweet silent happiness of family times, when the only sound is contented enjoyment, to the rage that bursts out in the hard times; I understood.

I refused to stand there and let it sour, not to her. Never to her.

Sobs played like a sad tune and I noticed Y/N was crying, hastily whipping away the tears.

“I can’t believe I continue to let you in my life, knowing how you’ll treat me. Girls are supposed to look up to their mothers as idols, to learn from them how to be mothers. But you’ve shown me how not to treat my kids in the future.”

“We’ve talked about this, Y/N. The chances of you becoming a mother are not in the cards for you. Neither is this musical career. You need to face reality.”

Fuck this.

As I stepped into view of them, Y/N pointed to the front door. “I don’t need you to come in here and tell me how to run my life, I’m done with this.”

“Y/n-.”

“You heard her,” I spoke while standing next to Y/N, immediately wrapping my arm around her shoulder to pull her into my chest.

My heart broke at how quickly she grasped onto my shirt, not wanting me to let her go.

“Excuse me? This is a private matter between my daughter and me. This doesn't concern you,” her mom’s eyes sliced into me.

“It does. Because it’s Y/N.”

Her mom’s gaze bounced between the two of us, almost waiting for Y/N to object to my words, but instead, she stood firm, sniffing away her tears.

“You need to leave.”

With one final glare, Y/N’s mom snatched her purse off the couch while muttering something Greek under her breath before she slammed the door behind her; all the negative energy leaving in waves.

“Y/N,” I tried to make her look at me but she kept her head cast down.

“I can’t, Noah,” she cried.

I lifted her chin with a firm finger and sucked in a breath as broken, bloodshot eyes stared back at me.

“Don’t ever hide from me, angel. You know that.”

Y/N kept her gaze firm on my face. “She does this every time. I don’t know why I continue to let her. I’m just a girl who wants her mother's love, is that so wrong?”

“Angel,” I murmured while pulling her into my embrace, brushing a kiss across her forehead.

NOAH

My fingers drummed against the marble counter in front of me while Davis set out various ingredients. We were currently streaming the two of us cooking BLTs, something for the fans to enjoy and watch. I was reading some of the comments, smiling at a few then cringing at some others.

Davis handed me a block of cheese. “Cut this up for me, would ya?”

With it in one hand, I playfully spit on my hand before giving it a nice smack.

“Hm, imagining that someone's ass?” He smirked under his breath.

I gave him a light shove. “Fuck off.”

We spent the next long while goofing off and having fun for the stream. It was nice to let my mind focus on something else besides Y/N and her mom. I spent the rest of the night at her place, holding her in my arms as she cried herself to sleep. The familiar scent of her lingered on me as I tucked her softly in her bed. Before I walked out of her house, I ran into Chase and Malcolm, whose parting words stuck with me all day.

“She needs you more than she’ll admit. It may not seem like it but she does.”

Y/N texted me this morning to thank me for being there for her and say that if she went M.I.A for a while today, it’s only because Hollow Souls were in the studio recording. I didn't ask how she was feeling after the surprise visit from her mom. Y/N would tell me, if she wanted to, when she was ready.

“Alright, let’s read some comments,” Davis suggested as we finished up the cook-off; me winning.

He held Max in his hands, every so often giving him kisses. As I read a few comments out loud and responded, the dog practically begged me for attention when a familiar username appeared on the screen.

Y/NHollowSouls: Noah Sebastian, I swear to Hades himself. You kiss Max right now or I’ll come over there and kick your ass.

I laughed while shaking my head. “Alright, Max. Come here! Let me give you some love.”

I scratched the dog's ear while leaving a soft kiss on his nose then looked back to the computer screen to see Y/N leave another comment.

Y/NHollowSouls: Good, that’s better. Now I need to taste this famous BLT that won.

“Then get your ass over here. Bring some coconut water because Noah drank the last one,” Davis said once he read the comment.

My heart began to beat widely in my chest at the thought of seeing Y/N again.

Y/NHollowSouls: fuck yes. Noah, have that sandwich ready for me.

We ended the stream shortly after that but my eyes lingered on the black screen for a long moment. Davis immediately picked up on my quiet mood and knocked on the countertop.

“Noah?”

My name was white noise, still staring at zoning out in front of me.

“Earth to Noah! Come in Herc! Come in Herc!”

“What?” My eyes snapped over to Davis, finally breaking out of my trance.

“What I thought.” He smirks before getting serious. “Are you alright?”

I gave a weak smile towards Davis. “Yeah. I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

He motioned towards the laptop. “I know you’re not actually fine right now but-.”

I ran a hand over my face, doing my best to keep my breathing calm and even. “I’ll be fine, I promise. It just fucking hurts.”

Davis shifted on his feet, hesitation clear on his face. “Why? No disrespect to Y/N at all, you know I love her-we all do. But why did you choose to stay in touch? After all the hurt you’ve gone through.”

My vision was direct with his. “Because I’d rather have her from afar to make sure she’s alright than to not have her in my life at all. Besides, she’s going through a lot of shit, something no one should go through alone. I won’t let her.”

A grin spread across his face and he nodded. “I knew it. I just wanted to hear you admit it. But you need to end this shit with Bailey.”

“I already did.”

“Fuck,” Davis’ eyes widened. “Finally. How did she take it?”

I nervously rubbed the back of my neck. “That’s the thing, she didn’t answer. I left her a voicemail.”

“A voicemail? Damn, do you think she got the message?” Davis wondered while be began cleaning up the mess.

I, instead, began making another sandwich for Y/N, knowing she’d be here soon. “I fucking hope so. If not, then she’s probably testing me to see if I’d change my mind.”

“But you won't, right?”

I snorted. “Fat chance.”

Davis turned towards me, drying his hands on a towel. “So you broke up with Bailey. What’s the next step with Y/N?”

“I need to talk to her first. There’s a lot we need to talk about,” I said while pulling out a cold can of Dr. Pepper from the fridge.

“Hey, that’s the last one,” he exclaimed.

I merely shrugged while setting a place at the kitchen table for Y/N. “It’s for Y/N.”

Davis, as much as he tried to be upset, chuckled. “In all seriousness, Noah, you know we’re here to support you. We have your back.”

I smiled at one of my best friends. “I know.”

Just then a knock sounded on the front door and before Davis could answer it, I quickly closed the short distance and opened it with a smile; only for it to drop seeing Y/N standing on the other side with a frown.

“What’s wrong?” I questioned while allowing her to step inside and led her to Davis’ kitchen.

“Chase’s birthday is on Friday and the venue I booked for it just canceled on me. Something about a pipe bursting and the room is flooded,” she exasperated while falling into the chair at the table.

“What are you going to do?” I questioned while sitting across from her.

Davis joined us at the table, taking the coconut water from Y/N with a small smile.

“Thankfully since they have to cancel, I get my deposit back but Malcolm is freaking out,” she waved her phone around. “We have two days to figure out somewhere new for this surprise party.”

“You can have it at my place,” I suggested.

Y/N took a long drink of her soda. “Are you sure? Don’t you think you should talk with the rest of the guys first?”

I snatched a chip off her plate and shrugged. “They won’t mind.”

“Sei un tesoro, mochi,” she patted my cheek.

Davis choked on his drink and my eyes snapped over to him. “I don’t want to hear it!”

He held up his hands. “I didn’t hear anything.”

Y/N smirked before taking the first bite of her sandwich and groaned. “Oh shit, this is good. No wonder you won, Noah.”

With a prideful smirk, I motioned to the rest of her plate. “Finish up. I’ll call the guys and have them meet here and we can plan Chase’s party.”

At one point, Davis left to take Max for a walk, leaving Y/N and I alone. We sat silently and enjoyed the world around us. This has taken a lifetime to learn. It seemed only the old could sit next to one another, not say anything, and still feel content. The young, brash, and impatient, must always break the silence. It’s a waste, for silence is pure. Silence is holy. It draws people together because only those who are comfortable with each other can sit without speaking. This is the great paradox.

“Oh, I never noticed the great view Davis has,” Y/N mused while pushing away her empty plate.

Realizing it was almost time for the sun to set, I quickly cleaned up for her and motioned towards the back door.

“Let’s go sit outside for a bit, yeah?” I suggested.

READER

Noah and I sat comfortably on the patio bench, a blanket draped over both of our legs as we stared out at the vast greens of Davis’ backyard. The sky was painted in bright oranges with hints of pink and purple. Silently, I thought to myself that I should have brought my art supplies, noting this would be a beautiful experience to paint.

The silence between Noah and I was comforting, something you don’t find all that often. People always needed to talk rather than just listen to the world around them. The way the birds chirped, the faint noises of evening traffic, or the sound of the wind as it blew a chilly breeze.

“Angel?”

I hummed while looking over towards Noah.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Is there-I don’t know-anything you really want besides music right now?”

“I want a studio, with giant canvas’, paint; just an art studio galore! I’ve gotten into the hobby and love it,” I answered with a bright smile. “I was even thinking of using some of my art for the album artwork. Just playing with ideas.”

Noah’s smile matched mine as he let his hair loose from the hair tie, letting it fall to his shoulders in waves. “I love that you found something else you’re so passionate about, angel.”

“I love painting. I really do,” I leaned farther back against the couch and rested my head against it.

“So paint. You should do whatever your heart desires, Y/N.”

“Thank you, mochi” I nudged him.

Noah rested his head against the couch, inches away from mine as another thought came to mind.

“You know,” I started with a long sigh. “When I was a kid, I would have given anything to be exactly like everybody else”

“You wanted to be petty and dishonest?“ He joked.

“Not everyone is like that,” I defended with a shake of my head.

“Yes they are,” Noah retorted back. “But not you. You’re not like that.”

This had me sitting up straighter, Noah following me. “How do you know what I’m like?”

“I see you,” He shifted closer to me, hand brushing across my knee over the blanket. “I’ve seen you for a long time. You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met”.

My heart beat widely in my chest, the noise deafening in my ears and I cleared my throat.

“I think you are too. If I’m being honest, I think I’ve always sorta known that,” I admitted.

“You know,” Noah’s hand rested on my knee. “With me bouncing between homes and couches growing up, I always thought I’d be alone. I’d never expected to have such an amazing group of friends.”

“Sometimes maybe it’s better to be alone,” I shrugged while looking past his shoulder to an older couple watching in the neighborhood.

“Why do you say that?”

I still kept my gaze off Noah, voice dropping low. “Nobody can hurt you.”

“Y/N,” Noah sighed and lifted my chin so I could meet his intense gaze. “I would never, ever hurt you.”

Those eyes. I’ve dreamed of those eyes almost every night since our first meeting so long ago. I won’t say I’m in love, not out loud, but I am. I came to terms with that a while ago.

“I know, mochi,” I finally whispered.

Noah’s thumb traced over my jawline. “I understand why it’s hard for you, Y/N. But know that when I’m with you, I don’t feel alone.”

That magnetic pull that always seemed to connect us with that invisible string made me lean closer to him needing his warmth to envelop me.

“I’ve never had this instant connection with anyone. I know you understand it too,” he continued.

With my continued silence, Noah sat up straighter but kept his grip on my chin. “Are you freaked out? Because not hearing you say anything kind of-.”

“Noah- no,” I rested my hands on his chest. “I feel it too.”

His hand grasped the back of my neck now, tilting my head up towards him, as we began to lead in closer, and when his warm breath fanned over my lips, I let my eyes flutter shut.

“Hey guys-oh shit.”

Quickly pushing away from Noah, I peered over my shoulder to see Malcolm leaning against the back door.

“We’re all inside ready to talk about the party. Whenever you two decide to grace us,” Malcolm winked before slipping back inside.

Clearing my throat, I let the realization sink in what Noah and I were about to do. He’s with Bailey and I was ready to kiss him. I’m not this kind of person but yet here I was again being caught between him and my conscious. Bailey, as intrusive as she was, didn’t deserve this.

Noah tried to bring me back to him but I quickly stood up, giving us more space.

“We can’t do this. Not again,” my hair shook widely around my shoulders. “It’s not fair to Bailey.”

“I ended it.”

I blinked. “Wha-Oh? You did?”

As ecstatic as I was hearing this, I did my best to hide it. I didn’t want Noah to know inside I was jumping for fucking joy; like a kid on Christmas that received the toy they’d been wanting.

Noah stood from the couch now, standing in front of me. “I think Bailey saw me as Noah on the big screen, not me the person and after everything at that dinner I just knew it was time.”

“I’m-I’m sorry,” I stammered, not knowing what else to say.

His brows furrowed. “Why? It wasn’t serious. There wasn’t that connection; like the one we have.”

As my lips parted, it was Jesse now who interrupted us, taking a bite of the apple in his hand. “Are you guys coming or what?”

Noah cursed while running a hand through his hair and I shakily pointed over his shoulder.

“We should head inside. Talk about this party.”

Not wanting to spend another second out here, afraid to finally give in to the thoughts that were screaming at me, I gently brushed past him to return inside.

GREEK TRANSLATIONS:

Koukla-doll

Kouklamou- my doll

“Giatí échei makriá malliá?”- Why does he have long hair?

"Eísai apísteftos"-you're unbelievable

ITALIAN TRANSLATIONS:

Sei un tesoro-you're a sweetheart.

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian and reader #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian reader insert #noah sebastian smut #enemies to lovers #right person wrong time #starcrossed lovers

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pedgito · 2 years

Note

need a dacryphilia oneshot bc that answer you gave the other day still haunts me

author’s note: babe, it’s haunts me too. i hope this makes up for it…or haunts you further, whichever hehe

cw: 18+ (minors dni), dacryphilia, multiple orgasms, fingering, unprotected sex, light praise, short but dirty i’m sorry

word count: 1.3k

Eddie had never been sure about what he liked—or loud about it even; it took him time to play the field and find out what worked and what didn’t. But, what he does discover is how open he is to almost anything, even the more obscure things that made him feel shy— almost embarrassed.

He liked being rough occasionally, the thought of throwing you around playfully, bending you to his will, hearing your desperate whine for relief—it was just as good as the slow sex, the languid strokes and lack of urgency in the way he kissed you, fucking you for as long as possible until you were both mere seconds from sleep.

He loves the intimacy of it—sex, relationships, the intense eye contact he held when he laid down in bed with you at night, whether it would lead to anything or not, he could stare, for hours. And it was never hard to stare right back, his soft doe eyes holding so much inside them. It made you wonder what was rattling around in his head all day and what calmed it in moments like this, his fingers tracing softly against the line of your jaw, dragging back and forth lazily.

And it makes him feel ashamed when he can’t hold back his arousal when he looks over at you on the couch one night, a sobbing mess from some terrible rom-com you had talked him into watching. He brings his knees up, adjusting himself sneakily as to avoid your curious gaze. It was wrong, so wrong—it’s what he kept telling himself.

You were sad and all he could think about was making you have the same reaction, though varying emotions, but a sobbing mess underneath him nonetheless. He feels horrible in the moment, but a few nights later it all clicks.

“Come on, one more.” He coos, lips pressed flush against your ear as he glances down, his two middle fingers buried inside you, grazing so effortlessly against the spot that had you seeing stars, body tingling from overstimulation, “For me, baby?”

“I can’t,” You reply breathlessly, eyes squeezed shut as you shook your head, gasping as he pulled out his fingers without warning, pressing them firmly over your clit, the slickness of you making the friction unbearable, “Eddie.”

He can’t tell if it’s a beg or a plea, but judging by the way your eyebrows pull together and almost melt into one, hands gripping desperately at the sheets underneath you, you were already almost there again.

“You can,” He encourages, “I wanna see that beautiful face fall apart again, wanna hear those sounds—fuck, you sounds so pretty when you come.”

And you do feel it, but it’s a horrible ache that breeches and quickly fades, your body fighting that urge because of exhaustion. You can’t focus, can’t think, and Eddie can see it written all over your face.

“It’s too much—“ You reply brokenly, eyes watering from Eddie’s persistence, your hand searching for his wrist, gripping it tight in desperation. It wasn’t that you couldn’t handle it—you could, but Eddie had to find a way to coax you over that mental block. The tears flow without you realizing, eyes opening to look up at him.

You’ve never seen that reaction before—and maybe he senses he’s done something wrong, crying during sex or anything of the like wasn’t exactly ideal. For you, it’s always related to negativity. You’ve never cried from happiness or excitement, never from exhaustion or overstimulation like this.

“I’m sorry, nothing’s wrong—“ You quickly tell him, but he doesn’t even acknowledge, dragging his finger up to wipe away the tears.

“Feels that good, doesn’t it?” He gloats, rubbing over your cunt gently, causing a sharp gasp to slip from your mouth, eyes still locked on his, “Go on, sweetheart. Cry about it.”

It’s what he wants—he wants you to fall apart so he can put you back together. And right now, you want nothing more. But, his hands just aren’t enough.

“Need you inside me,” You beg, fingers slipping back the hem of his pants that hung loose around his hips, brushing against the soft patch of hair that started as his navel and led down, his hard cock pressing firmly against his jeans, “please, Eddie?”

Eddie grins salaciously, pulling away without question. He strips himself immediately, your body laying slack from all the energy that had been drained from you; though still, the view was great. Eddie climbs back onto the bed carefully, hand slipping behind your bag to urge you forward.

“I’m too tired,” You complain, “I can’t.”

Eddie nods encouragingly, “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll do most of the work.”

You couldn’t really argue, letting him lead you over his lap as he settled himself against the wall, sitting upright and settling you down carefully, sliding into you with ease, though it’s overwhelming, mouth falling open in a soundless gasp as he leans your against him, one hand wrapped firmly around your back and the other on your hip.

“Look at me,” Eddie demands, “wanna watch you come, okay?”

As if that was possible. You nod wearily, forcing your eyes open, admittedly half-lidded with how exhausted you were.

“Don’t hold back, either.” He tells you, “Let it out, baby.”

The pace is harsh too, not at all the soft strokes that you’re more accustomed to—whatever devious plan Eddie had concocted, it was working. The tears flow again easily, almost instantly. It’s exactly what Eddie wants, for you to enjoy that overwhelming feeling and let it happen. He lifts your pliant body, face held close to your chest as he peered up at you, lips grazing your neck, hot breath cascading down.

“That’s right,” Eddie says, feeling a little cocky, “only I can make you feel this good.”

You nod dumbly, fingers digging into his hair as you tugged slightly, Eddie’s eyes glinting in the low light. He smirks.

“Say it, sweetheart. Who makes you feel this good?”

“You,” You reply softly, attempting to wipe at your tear stained face, but Eddie’s hand catches your wrist, giving you a subtle shake of his head, “it’s you.”

“Fuck, I don’t deserve you.” Eddie confesses, feeling his own orgasm on the rise, the emotion on your face feeding into that primal urge he had, the prior shame nowhere to be found.

You can’t respond, his hand slipping between you to rub at your swollen bundle of nerves—Eddie knows what he wants, he knows that you want it too, and he’s determined.

“Just relax,” He soothes, “It’s just two, what’s one more, baby?”

And it hits you hard, teetering on the edge of blacking out as your eyes fall shut, squeezing the tears from your eyes as you sobbed again, falling against Eddie for support.

He comes almost immediately after, thrusts slowing to a stop as he runs at your back, groaning softly through it. He’s never been loud necessarily, unless he’s purposely trying to put on a show. This feels deeper than any sex you’ve had with him prior, feeling like you had just laid your entire mind and body out to him, his soft encouragements being the reason you felt so transcendent right now, heaving in slow, heavy breaths.

“Are you okay?” He asks after a while, rubbing gentle patterns into your back. “Was that too much?”

“God, no,” You sigh, “That was—it was so fucking good, Eddie.”

He chuckles softly, adjusting you slightly until he could pull out, helping you settle beside him on the bed, both of you too tired to stand. He rubs gently at your eyelids, eyes falling shut. They were irritated from the crying, puffy around the edges.

“Is that your thing now?” You ask playfully, “Making me cry?”

Eddie grins wide, a small laugh coming out.

“As long as it’s the good kind.” Eddie assures you, “Only the good kind.”

Please consider leaving a comment or reblog if you enjoyed this fic! It’s makes a huge difference. ♡

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson blurb #my writing #tw dacryphilia #1kfic

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mambalae-s · 1 year

Text

fallen glory — ushijima wakatoshi x reader

wc: 3.2k words

cw: god! wakatoshi x nymph! reader; unprotected sex; breeding kink; size kink; wakatoshi is a big boi; reader is described as a black woman; degradation; manhandling; ; creampie; not proof read; if i’m forgetting anything please let me know!

notes from author: please, if you’re under 18, do NOT interact with or read this post. i will block you.

there are legends among mortal towns, the tellings of stories passed on by flesh and bone. a god, mankind will utter through shrouds of smoke, beneath fire-lit nights of centuries old, where the stars would even hold their breath to hear the words of divine destruction. a god so mighty and fearsome that wields power in his breath alone, that the earth would tear herself apart and offer her burning heart, that she would so desperately beseech her master that this mere sacrifice would be enough to please him. mankind would sing those sorrow-filled ballads of flaming rivers that sputtered brilliant embers, so brilliant in their dying glory that venus herself would weep and beg for mercy.

and this god, oh, this righteous and almighty god, his heart would mirror the depths of darkness. how cruel, this god, that he would beckon the tempests and the floods to destroy and ruin the earth, that he would paint wars and famine across endless seas and planes until there would be nothing left of man. when he bestows his wrath on bellowing thunders and rips the heavens asunder with magnificent lightning, he holds no mercy for the weak and unfaithful. his eyes behold, and his left hand cast their judgement, and the earth can do nothing but wait with bated breath as the universe stands still around her, powerless, and without charge of the pestilence that would next consume her and wipe her filthy soul clean once more.

oh, but who could imagine the divine’s demise at the hands of a damsel?

let these words not travel far, lest they spread across continents and reveal him for what he is. let the world not know of his mortality, of a heart that quivers before summer-touched evenings and sings wretched hymns of manly lust and desire. of his visits to the holy garden, they must not learn, even less should they know of the soul that resides there — the very same that would tame the tempest, and incite a hunger so ravenous and feral only to quench it all the same.

he’s here; you know without even looking, and your intuition tells you that he knows that you know. you don’t need to look behind you to know that wakatoshi’s watching you, eyes of gold and olive that stalk you like a hunter. he takes in every part of your image as a devotee does with visions. the droplets of water that glisten across dark brown skin, the sheer white fabric that clings to your full mounds and ass, barely doing anything to conceal your perked nipples, or the dip between your plush thighs. by the heavens, you truly are a vision of sin and desire — one that held the key to destruction between two-toned lips and written like scriptures among dark coils of hair akin to sacred vines.

“well?” you sigh, sinking further into the pond. the cool water kisses your skin with a tenderness that washes away the day’s searing heat. goosebumps rise across your body and you lull your head to the side, and that’s when you see him, your god come here to visit the garden of eden. “will you just stand there or are you gonna join me?”

how brazen, you must’ve sounded, irreverent as if you knew not the god who’d walked into your sanctuary. yet you knew all too well who he was, and you knew what he’d come for. you knew that, just with the sight of your body drenched in water, you could unravel this benevolent god and reduce him to nothing but a man lost in desire. since the first day he found you here on a lonely spring’s afternoon so many years ago, you’d somehow wrapped his tongue between your teeth and poisoned him with pleasure untold so that he would return time and time again. he reminds you of a lunatic, seeking the taste of your nectar like a man who knows nothing else, and you’d become his drug and his achilles heel, the very thing that could unwind this god and render him to nothingness.

the waters part to make way, welcoming wakatoshi into the pool as he comes close to you. his body presses against yours and he leaves no room between, so greedy in the way his fingers dip into your waist and burying his face into the crook of your neck to take in your scent. you reach up one hand to wrap into his long, jade green locks, and you pull him closer to you, eager to feel his lips leaving soft kisses across your skin.

“i can’t stop thinking about you…” he grumbles into your jawline, hungry and impatient. his fingers wrap into the thin fabric of your gown, nails digging into your flesh as he pulls you closer, pressing his hard cock into your ass as if he wants it to disappear between it. “fuck, what are you doing to me?”

you can’t help the soft moan that escapes your lips, though you know there’d be no sense trying to. coyly, you reach for one of his hands and bring it down to your pussy, pressing his palm flat against it and pushing yourself further against his length. “nothing, darling.” the words that leave you are teasing, almost to test him — accentuated by your sugary laugh when his fingers begin to peel your dress against your skin without you needing to tell him. “it’s you who keeps coming back here on your own accord.”

his fingers dip between your thighs and your knees buckle a bit when they brush against your pussy. you’re wet, wakatoshi discovers your slick already pooling into his hands despite him hardly even touching you. tauntingly, he caresses you, pools your slick along his fingers as he so barely slides them between your swollen cunt to hear the hiss that slips out of your mouth.

“look at you,” he chuckles, condescending. “so needy already, hm? do you want a god’s cock to defile you that badly?”

he’s baiting you, drawing on your words like a puppeteer, you know it. only touching you ever so slightly, giving you the smallest taste of what he knows you want, yet he wants you to beg for it. he wants you to throw yourself unto desperate abandon and give yourself up to him. and it’s working too damn well. greedily, you try to sink yourself down on his fingers, but he quickly stops you with a hand around your throat. frustrated, you whimper. “wakatoshi…” you keen. “for god’s sake, stop toying with me already!”

his teeth sink into your neck suddenly, the sensation of his lips sucking on your flesh causing your pussy to flutter. “nngh…” overcome with weakness, your head falls back against his chest, and your eyes are forced to behold the behemoth of a man behind you; the glistening droplets that slide down olive skin and the furrowed lines atop his expression. his lips part on breaths heavy and weighted as he squeezes his fingers tighter around your throat, and your own breath catches beneath his grip. you’re left wanting, needing the very air he robs you of, needing him inside your core, needing him and everything he’d give to you.

ah, you think bitterly, i’ll lose this war again today.

“you know what i want to hear from you, little one.” wakatoshi’s words ghost against the shell of your ear, causing you to shiver, heat coursing through each pulse despite the chill of the water. he takes his hand from your soiled thighs and brings his fingers to his mouth, and you watch with eyes glazed by lust as he sucks your juices from them and groans. “hurry…” he huffs. his cock twitches against your ass impatiently, his balls almost ready to burst and bury themselves inside your tight little cunt. “you know i don’t like waiting…”

those words so heavy and fogged over by hunger, you know he’s teetering on the very edge of snapping, letting you know that you’re not the only one who wants the other. he makes slow, intentional work of licking his fingers clean and he sees the way your inhibitions snap behind your eyes, revels in the whimper that leaves your lips as your hands fly to remove your dress all on your own. your breasts fall freely for him to see them glistening under filtered sunlight and of sight of your pursed nipples causes his length to twitch hungrily against your ass.

“please…!” inhibitions abandon you, your pride lost on the incessant pulsing between your legs. you need him to fill you, to ravish and demolish you — you’re aching now, impatient, craving him, “please, toshi, i need you inside me… now!”

you see the very moment wakatoshi reaches his limits and he snaps.

a yelp escapes you as he hoists you up, spinning you around to lock your legs around his hip. his lips crash into yours, mercilessly pushing his tongue into your wet cavern like a beast as he drinks you in. he feels your moans rumbling through his chest and he responds in kind, the space between you non-existent and your body flushed against him.

“that’s a good girl.” whimpering, you claw your fingers into his back as if holding on for dear life. “that wasn’t so hard, was it?” you want to curse him for toying with you, want to shut that filthy, irreverent mouth of his but your mind is too cloudy to give anything but sweet pleas of his name. drool pools from between your lips as he draws his tongue along your neck, suckling and biting every inch of skin. you’ll bruise blue and purple, you know it, but you can’t bring yourself to care. you want him to mark you, want him to possess your body and soul.

your fingers tangle into his tresses of green hair and you pull, causing him to hiss against your neck. “enough already, wakatoshi..!” despite your harsh words, you know they sound like nothing but muddled pleas to him. he’s so much bigger than you, it’s hard to forget he still has control over you — the way his large palms squeeze your ass, the way your body has to sit just above his hip, it’s hard to forget that fact.

“just fuck me already! you act like you don’t know the things you do to me, haah, like you don’t know how much you make me want you even— nngh, even when… you’re not here…”

ah, but how unfair of you, isn’t it? how can you accuse him of such things when really, you’re the one who does this to him? how could you not know that your visage haunts him day and night? that he dreams of taking you over and over, of pumping your hole full of his seed until your tummy would swell? that even then, he’d keep filling you up, keening to hear those sweet, filthy cries of his name over and over? you must know what you do to him; he growls against your skin, sinking his teeth into your collar and causing you to cry out and pull against his hair. “then tell me what you want, darling…”

frustration bubbles within you like an erotic poison as you glare down into emerald orbs. have you not been clear enough for him? what prayers would it take to satisfy this insatiable god? for him to finally give himself to you and abandon all else? you’re already powerless here in his hands, your dress reduced to a soaking bundle that wraps around your waist where his hands palm your bare skin. the tip of his cock only barely touching your core, and you can do nothing but wait until he sinks you down unto it. struggle as you might, your need couldn’t be fulfilled until he wills it, until he finally lets in and use you like you want to be used.

“i want you to take responsibility…” pettily, you huff, eyes narrowing further at the coy grin that sits on his mouth. even with his flushed cheeks and your spit coating his skin, he looks up at you, waiting for you to finish. “i want you to destroy me and fuck me senseless. i want you to force me to take every drop of seed and use me until your fat cock empties out everything inside me.”

wakatoshi hums, pleased, it seems, by your words, though he knows he wouldn’t have been able to hold off any longer even if he hadn’t wrung them out of you. oh, the things you do to him without even knowing that turn him into a wild beast. he all but eagerly lines up the head of his throbbing dick to your entrance, and the warmth of it is already so welcoming as he parts your pussy lips, teasingly rubbing your clit.

“take responsibility, hm?” he purrs against your skin as you whimper, soon forcing out the loveliest scream of his name as he brings you down in one swift motion. he watched your eyes roll into the back of your head, drinks in the way your lips fly open as his length spreads you apart. his own eyes narrow and he clenches his teeth — your tight walls squeeze around him so deliciously, so small and delicate as they clamp around the intrusion. “such a pretty, fragile little doll, aren’t you? fuck…!”

god, he hadn’t even fully sunken into you yet, and already he felt himself hitting the tip of your cervix, pressing deeper and deeper and causing your entire body to convulse as drool pours from your lips, fat tears pooling on your waterline. your orgasm wrecks your body in waves and you tremble, already fucked too weak to even support yourself. helplessly, you fall limp into wakatoshi’s arms, neck lulling back so that you’re forced to look up at the god above you, forced to watch his face contort in mortal pleasure as your hole continues to needily suck him in.

“aww…” he coos at your pathetic form. he brings one hand to cup your messy cheek while the other continues to support your weight, pushing a thumb into your open lips. almost mindlessly, you latch unto it and begin sucking. “already? kitten, i’ve hardly done anything to you yet.” even then, wakatoshi wants more from you. he wants to fuck you senseless, break you to nothingness until you couldn’t think of anything but him inside you. so he pushes, deep past your walls until he fully buries himself inside you, his tip so deliciously hitting your womb. you squeal and tighten your legs at the sensation of him bottoming out of you, dig your nails deep into his arms as if to ground yourself from slipping further.

“w-wait…! please, toshi—!” you cry, though your words are lost on him, drowned by his heavy breaths as he presses his lips against yours, pleas swallowed up while your body shakes. “i only just came, i’m— nngaah! ‘m too sensitive, slow down— fuck! ahh!”

despite your begging, wakatoshi doesn’t give you a moment to recover. he sets a relentless pace of pounding into you, pushing deeper and deeper, the sound of his balls clapping so filthily against your slick not yet enough to hide each honey-coated wail he forces out of you. “you said to… hnngn— take responsibility, didn’t you?” roughly, he wraps his hand around your throat and forces you to look up at him, all so he can take in that beautifully fucked expression you wear, teardrops lining your lashes and your mouth wantonly gasping for air. “that’s exactly what i’m doing, darling. isn’t this what you wanted?”

“yes..!” you can’t deny it. lying to him would be no use, it’s too late to try. your body’s already betrayed you for the pleasure he gives you, your battered hole pulsing around him with each thrust as he stretched you impossibly wide. “yes, wakatoshi..! fuck! i wanted you to fuck me n use me just like this!”

he chuckles, sinful and ungodly, as he releases his hold on your throat to place it around your waist and pulls you down, over and over, repeatedly until your body can do naught but fall to his mercy. “haah..! nngh….! fuck, fuck, fuuuck!”

“that’s it, kitten, just like that.” oh, heavens help him, he already feels himself beginning to waver, his hips staggering as he drives into you. he’s so close, his cock twitching viciously inside your beaten pussy, so close to exploding and filling you up. “take everything, you hear me? i’m gonna cum deep inside your filthy little cunt, and you better take all of it. gonna breed you again and again.”

“mhn! mhn! mhhn!” you’re far too gone to even understand the words he growls at you, far too gone to care for much else other than the sensation of him breaking you apart, or for the prayer you let escape your corrupted heart. “do it..! do it, waka…! let everything out and cum inside me, please, please, please!”

oh, how good did it feel to be at his mercy, to let him ruin you time and time again, at his beck and call. beneath his hold, you release all senseless moral and surrender to the wicked hunger of a being far greater than you. without warning, your body convulses beneath your pleasure as your second orgasm crashes over you. it rips through every vein in your body and releases itself from your core and you scream, your mind gone blank as you cream and squirt all over him. the very coil wound so tightly within your gut breaks like a tidal wave and pushes you off the edge, and after a few more harsh thrusts, you’re granted your reward.

wakatoshi grunts and gasps as his cock bursts his cum inside you, near panting as he pulls you flush against his hip and forces every drop into your delicate womb. his fingers dig deep into your doughy flesh, moans falling from him like a man needing air. he’d spent every last drop inside of you, his chest heaves on the aftershocks of pleasure, but gods be damned, he isn’t through with you yet. you, crumbled against his chest and fucked positively dumb, he hadn’t yet had his fill of you.

“h-hey, wakatoshi, what’re you—!” your startled shout goes unheard by the god as he forces you off his cock, only to bend you over rear up against the edge of the pool. shivers involuntary wreck your body, your whole clenching and your form already weakened by him. “please, i can’t take anymore, lemme rest a little— gaah!”

he silences you quickly by pushing his fingers into your stretched hole, pushing his cum back inside you as your walls object, already far too sensitive. “didn’t you hear me?” he grins, though you can’t see his expression from behind you. so, he pulls you up by your neck, grinning as he towers over your small frame. oh, how feeble and defenseless you stood before him, your legs couldn’t even support your frame, and it was all because of him.

“i said i’d make sure to fill up this tight little cunt. i’m not just done with you yet.”

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1960z · 8 months

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it’s interesting to me how the politics of writing romance (in general I suppose but rn I’m specifically talking about sci-fi/genre fiction) can often get in the way of writing good romance

I saw this post a couple days ago talking about why k/s as a romance feels more satisfying to a lot of people than a lot of the actual queer rep on star trek — how because they weren’t written with romance in mind, they were allowed to develop a dynamic of genuine camaraderie, mutual respect and chemistry.

and the thing is, I don’t even think this is unique to how queer relationships are written, or at the very least there is a non-queer version.

like I have a huge soft spot for kira/odo, but you can obviously tell when the writers decided to start explicitly writing for them as a romantic couple rather than simply two people who had chemistry together. and the moment they were being written as a romantic couple they were immediately forced into this very cishet model of what relationships are supposed to look like. there are some good moments I feel (pining!odo will always be a highlight for me) but that in itself— the fact they chose to focus so heavily on odo’s perspective is very telling.

the arc leading up to the two being canonically a couple is very focused on odo needing to “win” kira, with kira becoming an object of desire in odo’s arc rather than another fully rounded character with agency in the romance. which is very jarring because 1) again, before the romance arc was set in stone their dynamic was not written this way and 2) outside of this plot, kira is very well rounded and has a shit ton of agency.

it also doesn’t help that there is a lot of room for queerness to be explored within their relationship and especially odo’s character when it comes to gender, an opportunity which they just never take, not explicitly anyway. and having such fertile ground to explore those themes and then simply not and in fact doing the opposite, forcing them into a dynamic the characters are ill-fitted to, missing the point of their core appeal as a couple in the first place it’s… frustrating.

and I just wonder how many great dynamics and storylines we miss out on due to this heteronormative view of romance and what different types of relationships are “supposed” to look like.

#shut up abe #spirk #tos #kiraodo #ds9 #star trek #I think about kiraodo and their canon portrayal a LOT #I love them they deserved better #which isn’t to say there’s *nothing* to like about them in canon if there was I doubt I’d ship them in the first place #but i think their story very much was hindered by this stuff #(his way my beloathed)

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lyssasdrafts · 3 days

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★ 𓈒 ݁ STAR—CROSSED (rhysand x reader) ⊹

chapter three: (written) ✧

𓈒 ݁ ✫ masterlist previous next

over the weekend, you had thanked mor countless times for the opportunity she’d given you. she had insisted it wasn’t a big deal, but perhaps she wouldn’t understand how much this meant to you, how badly you had wished for a path in photography to be there for you. it had been a dream that you’d given up on for a long time until you started again for fun in your first year, but you would’ve never thought to consider it until you had the safety net of your degree.

“are we getting distracted now, y/n?” rhysand’s words interrupted your thoughts. you can hear the arrogance that coated his voice like honey. he peers above you, leaning over your desk to stare you down.

you had your chin in your palms and had been staring into the distance, but that didn’t mean you weren’t listening. however, a part of you was embrassed to admit that it was rhysand who caught your attention again and not the lesson. shifting your gaze to look up at him, you fake a smile as you respond, “i can promise you that pretty face isn’t distracting anyone, rhysand.”

rhysand quirks an eyebrow at you, almost like he was trying to guess what you were thinking about. “i never implied you were distracted by me in particular,” rhysand says blankly before a smirk makes his way onto his lips. you blink at him, realizing the insinuation about what you’d said. you curse yourself for referring to rhysand as pretty, but he definitely knew what you were talking about. it wasn’t unlike him to wink at people on campus and make small flirty comments when he knew he could talk someone into something. perhaps he’d even tried it on you at some point. it was a skill that you sometimes envied, the only ever way you convinced people was through your clever reasoning. at some point, you’d heard from elain that apparently you also happen to be quite intimidating unintentionally, something she said you had in common with nesta.

you take a moment before you respond, using it to scan rhysand’s figure. he wore his usual dress pants and a white button down shirt, his jacket further showing off his expensive preferences. despite the shiny silver watch and necklace he used to accessorize, he made himself look more casual by undoing the top two buttons of his shirt. you admired his style only because you could tell rhysand takes good care of himself and as a photographer. you recognized his jacket to be from a designer you admired and studied, revealing how his taste could be similar to yours. although he was a bother for you, the bastard didn’t have a bad fashion sense at all.

rhysand continues to stare down at you, while you wanted nothing more than to slap the expression off his face. his gaze made you uncomfortable, it burned into your skin and left your heart beating faster. he was insufferable, always taking pleasure in annoying and distressing you when he could’ve been a friend. in a perfect world, the two of you should be helping each other instead, if only rhysand wasn’t so petty and you weren’t so competitive.

you stand up for your desk, the chair making a squeak that catches the attention of some people sitting around you. those glances in your direction are ignored as you stare back at rhysand, your faces slightly inched closer than when you were sitting down. you give him one last comment before you stride out of class.

“you clearly think so highly of yourself that i’m not wrong. but since i’m not as vain as you, i have better things to do than entertain you.”

you’d actually been in a good mood for your entire ride to the studio, despite your earlier conversation with rhysand. you had brushed it off for once instead of obsessing over every comment and heading to the library, insisting on working harder to beat him.

this was your first professional shoot as a photographer, and you had a likely chance of being asked to keep working with the studio since the previous one had quit. never once would you imagine that posting your account online and building your portfolio that it would be shown to someone at a studio like this one. you didn’t believe in fate, but a part of you thanked every star in the sky that you ended up with mor as your roommate. maybe there was some greater power that brought you and your best friend together.

perhaps this could become a real job for you, unlike what your parents had always insinuated. you could work in engineering after your degree while free lancing as a photographer. perhaps if you were really good and built a name for yourself, you could even do photography full time. you would prove your family wrong, you could find a job that provides for them plenty enough.

the studio lobby is quite modern and newly renovated, you can tell from the moment you walked through the revolving doors of the building. from the running water fountain to the hanging lights over the main desk. checking in was easy as well, once you gave the name of morrigan’s manager you were immediately given an entry pass and escorted to the correct room.

the studio room is smaller than you expected, though it definitely wasn’t underwhelming. the small room was full of lights, with different backdrops in multiple colors. the equipment caught your eye the most, with large heavy professional cameras that you almost didn’t want to touch in fear of how expensive they probably were. these were cameras that you probably wouldn’t ever get a chance to buy on your own without getting a job in photography first.

you’re left alone in the studio room after being told that the model would be out shortly. even though it was a smaller space that the studio offered, you were told that this model was apparently quite promising, but he just preferred to work with few people. you hadn’t realized until now that there wasn’t anyone else working on the shoot with you, though you didn’t really feel like it was your place to request for any staff.

you realized that he would arrive any moment now and notice the door in the back leading to a dressing room. you remind yourself that everything will be alright, that you can handle being alone with a stranger for an hour or two. you didn’t necessarily need to be too nice since you didn’t want to come across as desperate, just polite enough to be professional. your model would likely be a beginner as well, someone who might understand your current position.

in the corner of your eye, you notice a navy blue jacket hanging off a chair, proving your assumption that the model was probably in the dressing room. you can’t help but recognize the design, the style of the fabric that almost looked black from a nontechnical eye and you realize that you’ve seen it earlier.

your eyes widen once the door creaks open and rhysand steps out, fixing his hair before his gaze shifts to look for his photographer. your jaw drops at the sight of him.

“y/n,” rhysand pauses, angling his body towards you before lifting an eyebrow again. “are you stalking me now too?”

— NOTES

the bat boys are bit mischaracterized at the beginning to show y/n’s misconception of them

y/n is so clearly attracted to rhysand physically… despite hating his personality <3

y/n always wanted to be a professional photographer but their family disapproved and so they decided to go into astrophysics instead :(

— TAGLIST

@thelov3lybookworm @starsand @lilah-asteria @therealmoonstone @just-a-social-casualty-1 @ashjade19 @girlontheblock @cherry-cin @daughterofthemoons-stuff @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @sweet-chai-amore @kierramofficial @noelli-smv @c-dizzle99 @littlestw01f @marina468

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