#look... i'm not responsible enough for this...

[julessuretries]

Seeing people call Ragatha an "abuser" post episode 5 is actually insane to me because for me, episode 5 singlehandedly sold me on her character, whereas before I was kind of apathetic.

She's not "toxically positive" - she's just got some sort of fawn response given her mommy issues and feels like she needs to be "well-behaved and proper" in order for people to like her.

One of my closest friends from college was exactly like this and it was hard to see them go through the recurring issue of being unable to break past surface-level acquaintanceships with people precisely because they were "too nice". Like, do you know how uncomfortable it is to have to explain to someone they'd probably have an easier time connecting with people if they, just, stopped being overly helpful? It's a really weird conversation to have: like, am I actually encouraging this person to be worse? I kid you not at one point I think I actually said "you'd be better of if you were meaner", but, like, no one else was willing to say it and he was desperate so I guess I had to.

But unfortunately the only person who'd ever be bold enough to do that in the show is Jax (because he's literally already done it) but it's hard for Ragatha, or anyone, for that matter, to take any advice he gives sincerely even if he's kind of right because he's already such a jerk (and might be projecting some of his own mommy issues if we're being honest).

Looking back at the pilot, Ragatha's behavior towards Pomni seems all the more depressing. She literally pounced on the opportunity to befriend Pomni from minute one because newcomers are rare and I imagine she's been lonely for a very long time. Which is why seeing Jax do a better job bonding with Pomni gets under her skin because from her perspective she's put in way more effort and therefore deserves her friendship more. That's obviously a very transactional and problematic way of viewing relationships, but isn't surprising given what we've learned about her upbringing. She's likely been taught that love is something that can be earned with enough effort and is now reaching her limit having to come to terms with that not being the case.

The best things in life come free. Genuine connections have to form naturally. While I'm not totally convinced that Jax is being fully honest in his attempts to befriend Pomni, I do think he understands something that Ragatha doesn't. People want to be friends with people they can relate to and trust. And even if Pomni isn't a jerk like Jax, she at the least can rest assured she's seen the worst of him, whereas Ragatha could reveal her "real self" at any time. It's about taking a calculated risk - even if Ragatha deep down is still a nice person (which I personally think she is), there's no way for anyone else to know that for sure. It's less risky to be friends with people who are more open about their flaws than with someone who feels like they could crack at any moment and you'd have no idea what would spill out.

Ragatha is a really tragic character but also so incredibly real. Unfortunately even if she did decide to be more "genuine" with who she was as a person she'd still have a long journey ahead of her, since I'm not very convinced she even knows who she is.

Wow this episode was good.

“We need more complex female characters”

YALL COULDNT HANDLE HER

It’s crazy that her character flaw is thinking that if she ever expresses a negative emotion everyone will dislike her and yall immediately proved her right. Goddamn.

[soulgazingwithbucky]

why bucky has a blowout

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Wife!Reader

Summary: bucky would never take advice from valentina or any of the thunderbolts, let alone hair advice. but the love of his life? a different story

Warnings: fluffy ig?

Word count: 750

A/N: i never thought i would miss the unbearable itch to write, and yet!!! so happy i was able to make something, so i hope ya enjoy! If you find yourself enjoying this, feel free to check out my other works here <3

"Stay still, Buck," you murmur softly.

Bucky stifles a huff. He could stay still for hours--if he wasn't in front of the bathroom mirror, forced to stare at his reflection. Behind him, you cup a strand of his hair in your hand.

You release the strand, pleased at the slight curl that has formed.

"I'm not doin' anymore of these things, doll," Bucky says. "M'telling Valentina she can put Walker up there from now on."

"You tell her, love," you encourage, though you're a bit distracted wrapping the next strand of hair around the thermal brush. You've never met your husband's "boss," but you've heard enough to get a sense of her character. You doubted Bucky was going to be able to get himself out of press conferences.

"After this hairstyle, though? You'll be first in line for any media coverage," you tease.

This time, Bucky can't hold back a grumble at the thought. You giggle, but it's quickly stifled by a yawn. Bucky softens at the sight of your sleepiness.

"Thank you, sweetheart," he says sheepishly.

Valentina is a blur as she rushes past Bucky. But she pauses abruptly, taking a few steps back until she's planted in front of him. Bucky does his best to ignore her, staring straight ahead, but he eventually puts down his sandwich and slowly meets her eyes.

"This won't do," Valentina says, gesturing at his head. Bucky doesn't care much about what "won't do," but he has a meeting with Agent Taylor in twenty minutes. He very much likes the idea of enjoying his sandwich on the couch, sans the Contessa.

"What, Valentina?" Bucky says slowly.

"This hair," she responds, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"I have been telling him that!" Alexei declares. Bucky pinches the bridge of his nose as the Red Guardian emerges from the kitchen. "I told him, my sponsorship with Drybar is at risk if--"

"Oh, Drybar? That's pretty good. Listen, Bucky, if there's one thing I know, it's hair. Wish you could ask that guy, am I right?" Valentina gestures in Bob's general direction in the next room.

"No," Bucky responds.

"I tell him, so flat," Alexei continues, "so lifeless! Bucky, hair care is so important--"

"Great talk, everybody," Bucky declares, scooping up his sandwich and taking it into the other room.

When Bucky recalled the conversation to you, he thought you'd laugh it off with him. Instead, he saw a glint in your eye that made him worried. Afterwards, he came home one too many times to you binge watching hair tutorials. Foolishly, he held out hope that you would lose interest, but then packages of hair tools started arriving at your door.

"You know," you said, holding back another yawn, "if we lived closer to the Tower, we wouldn't have to wake up so early."

"Not yet, doll," is Bucky's gruff response. Living far away meant that it would be harder for people to link you two. It wasn't that he would get relentlessly teased by his coworkers about being married--that was a given. But if they were on a mission, and one of them became compromised? He couldn't imagine what would happen if the wrong people found out about his life. About you. He already had to live with the fact that Sam helped you both find this house, and now--

"He's our friend, Buck." You recognize the distraught look on your husband's face, and you place a gentle hand on his shoulder, breaking him out of his spell. "He would never do anything to hurt us."

Bucky moves to place a kiss on your hand, grateful that he doesn't always have to talk for you to understand him. He opens his mouth to express his appreciation, but you interrupt him.

"All done," you say proudly. The wide grin on your face is almost enough to make Bucky forget that he is going to be sitting in a room full of journalists in a few hours. You comb your fingers through his hair to loosen the curls, then apply hairspray. Bucky makes a show of sputtering. He never makes a show of anything, but he loves the way you giggle at his antics.

He turns to face you, wrapping his arms around your waist. You wrap your hands around his neck, trying your best to avoid your hard work.

"My wife," he says, a phrase he will never get tired of saying. He plants a kiss on your lips before you respond:

"My hero."

[mischief-and-the-big-bad-wolf]

Stiles snuck a look at Derek from the corner of his eye, sitting in the booth beside him, before inching his hand towards Derek's plate. He quickly snuck a few curly fries, having finished his in five minutes of being served. His eyes caught Lydia's who was sitting across from him and he blushed when she raised an eyebrown at him, sticking his tongue out at her before chomping down on the fries. Seeing Derek still distracted talking to Boyd, he snuck a few more handfuls from his plate.

Without stopping his conversation with Boyd, Derek slid the rest of his fries off his plate and onto Stiles'. Stiles looked at him in surprise, his scent sweetening with love and happiness, making Derek turn to him.

Derek pressed a kiss to Stiles' temple and asked, "Want some more, baby?" He didn't wait for Stiles' reply, instead calling over the waitress and placing an additional order for the curly fries.

Stiles flushed red and kissed Derek's shoulder, leaning his head there after. Derek shifted his arm to curl around Stiles' waist and pulled him in closer. Stiles picked up a fry and held it to Derek's mouth, giggling when Derek playfully snapped his teeth around his fingers.

"You two are disgusting," Scott complained, wrinkling his nose.

"I think it's sweet," Erica simpered.

"Thank you, Erica," Stiles pointedly said towards Scott. "We're no less disgusting than you and Allison."

Scott opened his mouth but before he could say anything, Derek said, "Enough."

"Yeah, Scott, enough," Stiles added, throwing a teasing look at Scott.

"Love," Derek sighed, an exasperated fond look on his face.

"What? He started it!" Stiles exclaimed, pointing at Scott.

Derek rolled his eyes and mumbled, "I'm surrounded by a bunch of children."

"Children, huh? I'll show you children," Stiles murmured, scooping a dollop of ketchup onto his pointer finger and smearing it on Derek's cheek.

Derek leaned away from him and hissed, "Seriously? We're in public, baby."

Stiles just raised his brows at him in response, in a 'what are you going to do about it' way. Derek smirked and locked his arms Stiles, who shrieked and wiggled trying to get away. Derek leaned in and smushed his cheek against Stiles', spreading the ketchup on both of them.

"How do you like that?" Derek teased, pulling back but still keeping Stiles in his arms.

Stiles' answer got cut off by the arrival of the waitress who asked them to be a bit quieter as the other patrons were being disturbed.

Derek's ears turned red in a blush and Stiles' cooed at him, licking the ketchup from his cheek before pressing a few kisses there.

"I don't know why I still hang out with you guys," Lydia snarked, looking at them with a disgusted expression.

"Cause you love us, Lyds," Stiles crooned as Derek wiped the ketchup off Stiles' face with a tissue paper.

[karikitdemonrp]

Kari sniffled, looking into her papa's eyes, tears rolling down her cheeks as she just sniffled and listened. She looked down for a moment, processing what the hero said and gave a nod while her eyes narrowed a bit in thought. "I... Think I get it." She muttered, voice still slightly trembling as she spoke. She looked back at the projection and sighed. The child slowly backed away from Hawks and went back to look at the journals again, one last time.

There she read a few more journals from her mother. A few from when she was pregnant with her siblings.

"Today is September 29th, I gave birth to my little boy Kitearo a few days ago. It's been exhausting but he's worth it. Lynx has been a huge help in taking care of our son. I looked into Kite's future and I saw he was going to have a lot of siblings. Not my first choice honestly. If you asked me five years ago I would have said two or three kids would be enough, not seven. But it feels right at the same time. While I saw his whole life unravel I couldn't help but feel helpless... But a part of me knows it can't be messed with, even though I want to save my son from an early grave. I'll have to wait until all my kids are born to get the full picture."

Kari frowned, figuring out pretty quick that her mother knew the whole time, or at least had an understanding.

"It's Febuary 23rd. Flo and Fino are a few days old now. I got a bit more of the picture since seeing Kitearo's future. They meet a similar fate. It hurts, but seeing them work hard to protect their youngest sister, a little girl with white hair, something isn't adding up. I know I can't stop it but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt a whole lot."

"It's been a rough few weeks, Shade has been a bit of a handful. Always curious but always quiet which is a bit unnerving. Sure she cries and makes noises but she's more quiet than not. The doctor says she has nothing wrong with her but I still worry. I was able to see into her future. Lynx has his work cut out for him that's for sure. So far I know all my kids and my husband die on the same day, doing the same thing. I can't say for sure where I am but I can make a few guesses. Again that little girl with white hair makes a big appearance. I'll name her Kari. Kari Kana Lee Himura, long name but it looks like it suits her. When she's born I'll hopefully get all the answers and try to write them down."

"Another pair of twins. I'm not super surprised, Lynx had twin younger brothers after all so I think that runs in the family. That and I saw them while looking into their siblings' futures. These two look mirrored, it's kinda cute. I've named them Boom and Beats cuz the symbols on their cheeks are cute music notes. They are the loudest that's for sure, it's funny. I've had so many kids and all of them are so different even though they're under the same roof and have me and Lynx as their parents. I know why they look so different and why their quirks are different, it's a side effect of my quirk after all. But their behaviors and personalities aren't tied to it, I don't think. It's so fascinating to watch them grow and develop... I know I probably only have a few more years to live. I've concluded I die in child birth when giving birth to Kari. I know I'll be leaving behind my family and my friends... But I noted that my nephew is the one responsible for the deaths of everyone, under the control of my sister given his pupils... Something isn't adding up but I'm guessing Kari develops my quirk. If that's the case then she needs to exist. It strengthens our quirk and hopefully she'll be able to help others like I did, in someway. Though that's her choice and I don't want to force it onto her. I'm glad dad talked me into writing that one entry about my quirk, I hope she can read it one day so she can meet me... Well, a snap shot of me. It won't be the same I know but it's better than nothing. I just hope she doesn't hate me or get mad. It's kind of a selfish reason but there's so much going on... I just hope she understands."

Kari sniffled, rubbing her eyes. "I... I don't hate you mom." She whispered after a few moments of silence, hugging herself. "I just wish I knew you." The child gulped and moved to look back at the journal about All of the Above and began taking notes. "But yea, I'm glad grampa talked you into writing about your quirk too... It's gonna help me a lot." She muttered then looked at Hawks. "You think we can go somewhere I can train? I... I wanna try doing this thing mom talks about. I'm not sure if I can get back into that weird mind space thing but... But if I can maybe you can meet my siblings, well a snap shot of them... This is kinda confusing." Kari puffed out her cheeks then went back to writing. "But we don't have to do it today if we can't."

Hawks didn’t speak at first. He just let Kari cry. He didn’t try to hush her or pull her away. He dropped down to one knee so she could lean into him easier, wrapping his arms around her small frame like he could shield her from every painful word she had just read. His wings even curled in slightly, a quiet gesture of shelter.

He held her gently as the sobs came out in waves—her pain wasn’t small, and it didn’t deserve to be treated like it was.

After a long moment, his voice finally came—soft, steady, low enough it didn’t try to overpower her crying but just… sat with it.

“I know, kiddo. I know it hurts. It’s not fair. None of this is. You didn’t get a choice in any of it.”

He tightened the hug slightly, one hand cradling the back of her head.

“But I need you to hear me when I say this next part, okay?” He pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes, his own golden ones steady and full of something more than just compassion—it was conviction. “She didn’t die because of you. That’s not how this works. She died for you. And that’s something only someone who loves their kid more than anything in the world would do.”

His thumbs gently wiped her tears.

“Your mom knew the risks. She was a top pro. She wasn’t someone who walked into things blind. She fought to bring you into this world anyway, Kari. That means she wanted you here. She made a choice—and that choice was you.”

[vxnillabxn]

Can I request headcanons for all 5 lads men reacting to his female s/o accidentally walk on him topless while changing clothes and immediately covered her eyes while apologising profusely please?

𐙚˙⋆.˚ mainfive! x fem!reader ꒰੭

𐙚˙⋆.˚ a tiny bit suggestive, fluff! ꒰੭

𐙚˙⋆.˚ sfw! ꒰੭

𐙚˙⋆.˚ do not translate/copy/repost! ꒰੭

﹙♡﹚main five! reacting to fem!reader walking in while they're shirtless. (note: this could also count as gn!reader, as no fem pronouns nor descriptions were used!)

𐙚˙⋆.˚ caleb! ꒰੭

he was changing in your shared bedroom, taking off his hoodie before his t-shirt lifted up too.

you happened to barge in casually, as you always did. you were holding an applesauce jar, struggling enough to seek his assistance.

“hey leb, would you—”

you looked up.

you froze.

there he stood, folding his t-shirt while glancing at you, giving you the attention you needed, casually, like it was no big deal. his whole chest was on display, —not for you, initially— along with his strong arms, his abdomen, and…

nope!

in a panic, you threw the jar towards the bed and turned around, eyes covered, face heated up. you blurted out thousands of apologies like a broken machine, over and over again.

“sorry! oh crap, truly, i am so sorry! i didn't—”

all you heard in response was a soft chuckle.

then, footsteps getting closer.

and closer.

until a pair of bare arms wrapped around you from behind.

“what are you hidin’ from, pips?”

he whispered close to your ear, pressing a kiss to the top of your head right after.

“there's nothin’ you haven't seen before. do you like my body that much to get like this, hm?”

he gently pried your hands away from your face and spun you around.

there was a smirk on his lips. he was enjoying this way too much for your liking.

and you knew he wouldn't let this go. not today, not tomorrow, never.

because for the rest of the day, even when handing you something or washing the dishes after dinner, he'd laugh and say:

“easy. don't want you gettin’ flustered just ‘cause i rolled my sleeves up, baby.”

smug dummy.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ rafayel! ꒰੭

you two came back home after one of his art exhibitions. you went to the bathroom to undress and freshen up a bit before bed, while rafayel stayed in your shared bedroom.

you found paint stains on your arm; probably because he decided it was a good idea to add some last-minute touch-ups to his paintings… while also clinging to your arm the entire night.

you walked toward the bedroom, a playful smile on your lips.

“hey raf! if i sold my arm with your paint on it, how much do you think—”

your face heated up instantly, and you slapped your hands over your eyes.

you didn't even register exactly what you saw, but you just knew he was changing.

“why would you sell your arm, my pearl?”

he asked, not noticing your panic at first, since his back was still to you. but when he turned around, and saw your flustered state…

he smirked.

very, very amused.

without a word, he stepped toward you and swiftly lifted you up.

you squealed, clinging to his shoulders for balance, which, of course, meant uncovering your eyes.

“raf—! wait, i'm sorry! i didn't mean to walk in—”

“why are you covering your eyes, cutie? i'm a sight for sore eyes. a masterpiece, if you will.”

he spun you around dramatically before sitting you on the bed, stepping between your legs with that signature glint in his gaze.

“rafayel…”

your eyes were still wide, and his were darker now, tinged with red. dangerous glint. mischief level: critical.

bad sign. abort mission!

“consider this a dynamic exhibition, just for you,” he whispered, taking your hands in his.

then, slowly, he guided your trembling hands to his bare torso.

“feel free to… touch the art, cutie.”

crap.

he was going to kill you one day. but you were not wasting this opportunity.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ sylus! ꒰੭

it was late. almost 2 a.m.

you'd just woken up after the warm figure beside you left the bed. you stirred and rubbed your eyes, hearing footsteps outside the room. of course, you knew sylus was up; he always started his day pretty late.

you decided to follow. sleepy, groggy, still a bit tired.

your bare feet padded against the cold floor as you trailed after him. your hair was messy, your eyes mostly closed, but you already knew the path by heart, so you navigated it easily, even half-asleep.

he entered the bathroom, and a few seconds later, you followed on instinct.

by now, he knew you were behind him, but he found it endearing.

he started to undress, and it didn't register in your half-functioning brain until his shirt dropped at your feet. you looked down. then up.

you squealed.

“gosh! wait, i'm sorry!”

you were 100% awake now, eyes wide as you turned around to flee the bathroom.

his naked torso was now engraved in your brain. his slightly tanned skin, his defined muscles, his strong, inviting arms… it physically hurt to walk away, but you had to!

…or not.

he grabbed your wrist gently, of course.

you still covered your face with your free hand.

when he spun you around and took both wrists in his hands, he didn't say anything.

he just looked at you, one eyebrow arched, that familiar amused smirk playing on his lips.

he didn't need to talk.

you looked up at him, gulping softly, and recited the words he's told you before under similar circumstances:

“i shouldn't panic, because we're together… and this is a normal thing to happen.”

he hummed in approval, then leaned in to kiss your forehead.

“good. now, won't you join me, kitten?”

and join him, you did. because honestly… who were you to refuse showering with your boyfriend?

𐙚˙⋆.˚ xavier! ꒰੭

you were preparing cookies for a charity event.

“save the kittens!” or something along those lines. you read “kittens” and were in.

xavier, of course, wanted to participate too, just because he saw how enthusiastic you were, and because he would get to have kittens curled on his lap once you two went to the event hosted by the shelter.

he was helping… in his own way. having xavier near the kitchen is a fire hazard, so you had him crack the eggs, whisk the batter and, from time to time, use the cookie cutter.

however, he somehow managed to still cause a ruckus, as he preheated the oven a bit too much. when he opened it, a black cloud of smoke covered him.

he had to go change, naturally.

after a while, you decided to check up on him. poor xav, he just wanted to help!

as you step into the shared bedroom, you gasp and cover your face immediately.

he wasn't just shirtless. he was cleaning his pale, rosy skin with a wet cloth. under that comfy sweater laid an absolute sight to behold.

if it wasn't for the frown and the slight pout on his lips, you'd think he did this on purpose.

he looks up upon your clumsy entrance, and he tilts his head.

“is it that bad?”

he softly asks.

you look up automatically, shaking your head. you don't want him to get the wrong idea.

“no, xav! i just— i am sorry, i just forgot to knock first…”

he stares at you, before laughing gently.

“is that it? can't handle seeing your boyfriend naked, starlight? we've done worse thin—”

“xav!”

you soon exit the bedroom again in a rush.

“hurry, the event will start soon!”

and he chuckles.

though, the next time he enters the kitchen to help you pack everything, he's shirtless again.

he steps behind you, hugging you close —as he usually does when he's sleepy—, but this time, you know he has a different purpose.

and he absolutely adores seeing your rapid, nervous movements as his naked, warm chest presses against you.

"cute," he thinks.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ zayne! ꒰੭

you visited him while he was working. your excuse? you brought lunch and homemade chocolate muffins!

you happily walk through the clean, white halls, greeting the nurses that already know you're here for your boyfriend, dr. zayne.

you step into his office, and he isn't there.

uh? weird.

you decide to check the connected room, where he usually rests, and…

you gasp. the lunch you brought falls to the floor, but thankfully, it was protected inside your leathery bag.

he looks up, raising one eyebrow.

your boyfriend. shirtless. no glasses on.

his white coat is carefully draped over a chair, and he has a black button-up shirt waiting to be put on.

his body is divine. it feels like a sin to be a witness of his god-chiseled features, especially when neither of you is really used to... such displays.

you quickly turn around to give him some privacy.

“uhm, well, i… i should've knocked. i'm truly sorry, zayne, if i knew you were changing, i swear i wouldn't have—”

but he sighs, softly turning you around by holding your shoulders. he looks down at you, and he seems unfazed.

but the tips of his ears are bright red.

“no need to apologize. i am merely changing clothes.”

he softly says.

“you… may look.”

and your face feels ten times hotter.

funnily enough, you obey.

and look you do.

you intently watch as he buttons up his black shirt, as he puts his coat on, as he slips his glasses back on.

“i was actually going out for lunch.”

he says, now stepping closer to you.

you remember your bag and quickly pick it up.

“no need! i brought you lunch and dessert too!”

and his lips curl up slightly. he pats your head gently, before leaning down to kiss the tip of your nose.

“good. after barging in, i expect you to hand-feed me.”

oh, and he means it.

you happily oblige though, following him back to his office to set everything up and have lunch with your hot boyfriend.

[thirteenheavens]

hiii can you do cockwarming with seungcheol 😽😽

Let’s try to stay like this|| Seungcheol

Word count: 2k

Notes: I’m going to be opening my requests for a day only just to get some messages and new requests <3

Seungcheol pulls you onto his lap, his strong arms wrapping around your waist. He nuzzles your neck, inhaling your scent deeply. "I've missed you," he murmurs against your skin. "Can I just hold you like this for a while?"

"Of course, Cheol," you reply softly, snuggling closer to him. "I've missed you too." Seungcheol smiles warmly and lifts your hips slightly, positioning himself at your entrance.

"Just stay still and let me feel you," he says huskily. "I want to be inside you, even if we don't move." You slowly sink down onto his cock, both of you moaning at the feeling of being connected. Seungcheol holds you close, his hands roaming over your body as he savors the warmth and tightness of your pussy.

"You feel so good," he groans, burying his face in your chest. "So warm and perfect around me." You lean your head on his shoulder, feeling content and safe in his embrace. Seungcheol kisses your forehead tenderly, his cock twitching slightly inside you.

"Just relax, baby," he whispers. "I'll keep you nice and full for as long as you want." The two of you sit there in silence for a while, simply enjoying the intimacy of the moment. Seungcheol's hands occasionally squeeze your hips, but he makes no move to thrust or take control.

"You're so beautiful like this," he says softly, looking up at you with adoration. "So beautiful and mine." Seungcheol's cock throbs occasionally, but he remains still, his patience surprising you. He seems to be genuinely content just having you sit on him, feeling your warmth and closeness.

"I could stay like this forever," he admits, his voice filled with affection. "Just having you near me is enough to make me happy."

"I love you, Cheol," you whisper, pressing a gentle kiss to his neck. "And I love how gentle you are with me." Seungcheol's grip tightens slightly at your words, and he kisses your shoulder in response.

"I love you too, Y/N," he says softly. "More than anything in this world. You mean everything to me." As time passes, you can feel Seungcheol getting more and more restless beneath you. His breathing becomes heavier, and his hands start to wander lower, gripping your thighs tightly.

"Y/N," he groans, his voice strained. Seungcheol looks up at you with apologetic eyes, his face flushed with arousal.

"I'm sorry, baby," he pants. "I've been trying to hold back, but you're making it so difficult. Your pussy is just squeezing me so tightly."

"You don't have to hold back, Cheol," you say, lifting your hips slightly. "I want you to feel good too." Seungcheol lets out a relieved sigh, his hands moving to grip your hips again.

"Thank god," he mutters. "I was about to lose my mind." With your permission, Seungcheol begins to thrust up into you slowly, his movements careful and controlled. He groans loudly, clearly relieved to finally be able to move.

"You feel so fucking good," he grunts, his fingers digging into your skin. "I've been dreaming of this all day." Seungcheol's pace gradually increases, his thrusts becoming deeper and more forceful. He buries his face in your chest again, his moans muffled against your skin.

"I'm not going to last long," he warns, his voice muffled. "You're too tight, too perfect." You look down at Seungcheol, his expression a mix of pleasure and concentration. His eyes are half-lidded, and his lips are parted as he moans.

"Look at me, Y/N," he says breathlessly. "I want to see your face when I cum." You keep your gaze locked on his, your own moans mixing with his as he continues to thrust up into you. Seungcheol's pace becomes erratic, his movements becoming more desperate.

"I'm close," he gasps. "So fucking close. Cum with me, baby."

"Cheol, I'm cumming!" you cry out, your walls clenching around him tightly. Seungcheol lets out a deep growl as he feels you tighten around him, his thrusts becoming frantic.

"That's it, baby, that's it," he grunts, his hips stuttering as he reaches his peak. "I'm cumming too, fuck!" Seungcheol pulls you down hard onto his cock as he cums, his hot seed filling you up. He holds you tightly against him, both of you trembling from the intensity of your shared orgasm.

"Y/N," he moans, his voice shaky. "I love you. I love you so much."

"I love you too, Cheol," you say softly, running your fingers through his hair soothingly. "You did so well for me." Seungcheol nuzzles into your touch, his body still shaking slightly as he comes down from his high. He kisses your chest tenderly, his breathing gradually returning to normal.

[ao3commentoftheday]

Firstly, please allow me to thank you for all that you do.

My ask is this, how do you and your followers reconcile with possibility of being trapped by your own work? I want to branch out and write originals, which i have done previously and uploaded to my blog but traffic to them was slim and i quickly realized that it’s a big ask for people to want to read a story when they come on a social app. I recently wrote a fic that i uploaded to ao3 that is within the same fandom but not related to the character i typically write for but my own ocs. I had one hit. I was overcome with the feeling that i cannot exist creatively outside of this character that i’ve been writing for for the last 3-4 years, that I’ve pigeon-holed myself and left no contingency plan for the future. I cannot do any other type of art the way i do writing, it gives me the most challenge, the most joy and the most reward. And i thought i was of the mind that i didn’t care if no one read my work, but now seeing it reflected back to me on the screen, it stings and i cannot but feel embarrassed, discouraged, disheartened and frustrated.

I'm so sorry that it's taken me so long to reply to this ask, and I'm even sorrier that you were feeling like this to begin with 💗 I hope that this was a momentary crisis and it hasn't continued, but in case it has:

You are so much more than the number of hits that you get on AO3. Your talent can't be measured by hits or kudos or comments. Your creativity isn't trapped inside a single character, and the more that you stretch yourself and grow the more you'll be able to feel like that's true.

Embarrassment and discouragement are the natural reactions when you share something you've worked on and get relative silence in response. I've felt disheartened and frustrated too in a similar situation.

From what you've written in this ask, it feels like you've lost confidence in your writing. You're worried that you can't do this thing that you love to do so much. You're looking for "proof" in the hits and other numbers - reassurance that you're a good writer. Reassurance that you can write outside of that one thing.

I've written before, and I'll never stop saying it - AO3 stats will not give you that reassurance, and if they do, it won't last long. To get the kind of reassurance and support that will help you regain your confidence in branching out, you really need someone (or multiple someones) that you can have ongoing conversations with about your writing.

Maybe it's a writer's group IRL. Maybe it's a discord server. Maybe it's your best friends in a group chat. Maybe it's your mom. Whoever it is, whoever they are, they'll have the context of knowing how nervous or uncertain you feel and they'll also know you well enough to know how you need to be supported.

I hope you've already figured this out in the intervening year since you dropped this in my inbox, and I really hope that you're still writing all of the things that you love to write.

[band--psycho]

Poly!141 x Reader - Stop The Wedding (Part 12)

I'm gonna say that I'm sorry again for this part 💛

Please be kind, reblogs are always welcome and greatly appreciated! Thank you for all the continued support 💛

Requests are open so if you have any ideas/requests, you're more than welcome to send them over (thank you to everyone who's requested a story so far, I'm working my way through them!)

I do not give permission for any of my works to be copied or translated onto this site or other platforms!

Catch up on the previous part here: Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 /Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 13

Warnings: Feelings of worry, car chase, car crash, mention of blood, paramedics, ambulances. being unconscious

COD Modern Warfare Masterlist /Taskforce 141 Masterlist /Join My Taglist

Simon was on edge, leaning against the kitchen counter, rarely even blinking, a hundred scenarios racing through his mind.

John shared Simon’s feelings; he was sitting at the table unable to stop his right leg from bouncing up and down in worry. 

“I shouldn’t have let her go,” Simon mumbled; his eyes continuing  to stare at the wall in front of him as though he was going to burn a hole through it. 

“She’s with Y/f/n,” Kyle began, trying to get the two stressed men in front of him to calm down, “she’ll be safe,”

“Aye, Y/f/n might hate us but they care about Y/n,”

“Doesn’t mean shit,” Simon grumbled in response, tearing his eyes away from the wall to Johnny, “Graves could’ve gotten to her,”

“We don’t know that,” Kyle countered softly; but Simon shook his head dismissively at Kyle’s words.

He knew under normal circumstances Y/f/n wouldn’t betray you. 

But these were not normal circumstances. 

Graves could’ve threatened Y/f/n…threatened people they care about….or they could’ve hurt Y/f/n, they didn’t look like they’d been tortured but that didn’t necessarily mean they hadn’t been. 

“We couldn’t keep her here,” John sighed, turning everyone’s attention to him.

He wished they could’ve. 

Wished that they could’ve kept you here, with them, safe, away from any type of threat or harm. 

But he also knew that you being around them all was a risk in itself. 

He broke your heart; persuaded the others to side with him; then they came along and ruined your life again when you were happy again. 

He hoped Y/f/n took you as far away from them and Phillip as they could. 

John understood Simon’s worry. 

He felt it too. 

But he didn’t want to believe that Y/f/n would betray you. 

He couldn’t bear to think of you losing another person in your life that you trusted. 

Simon remained silent; lost in his own thoughts, your words continuously replaying through his mind.

“Trust me” 

The trust he had in you was the only reason he let you go….he just couldn’t be convinced by what his partners were saying; couldn’t allow himself to trust anyone except the people in this room with you. 

“She’ll call us if she needs us-”

Kyle had barely finished his sentence when Simon’s phone began ringing in his pocket. 

Everyone’s eyes locked on to Simon as he answered the call; his words indicated enough to the others that something bad was going on. 

“Turn the car around and drive back here,” they heard Simon instruct clearly; before he pulled the phone from his ear, putting it on loudspeaker as he placed it in the centre of the table.

His hands were gripping the table like he was about to flip it over.  

“They’re being followed,” he stated quietly, gritting his teeth as his grip on the table edge tightened.

“Shit!” They heard Y/fn shout, their panic evident in their voice. 

“What’s happening?” John asked, leaning forward across the table, his brows furrowing in concern when there was no answer to his question. 

All the four men heard was the sound of a car crashing. 

John picked up the phone quickly and handed it to  Kyle.

“Keep talking to her,” the captain ordered, wishing that he could do it himself, but unable to trust his own voice,  already feeling his stomach twisting at the thought of you being hurt. 

Kyle nodded, taking the phone carefully and continuing to say your name as well as Y/f/ns, in a desperate attempt to get some sign of life from you both. 

Twenty seconds. 

That’s all it took for the four men to put on their shoes, leave the house and get in the car. 

Simon was driving, not giving a single fuck about the speed limits along the country roads; the only thing he and the others cared about, was finding you. 

“C’mon baby…say something,” Kyle spoke through the phone, his voice trembling slightly now as he desperately tried to get an answer from you. 

But his attempts were unsuccessful; only being met with static and the occasional muffled crackle, sounds that made his chest tighten in fear. 

They couldn’t lose you. 

Not like this.

Not now…

“C’mon baby,” Kyle repeated his plea desperately; his eyes going wide as he heard the echoing sound of sirens through the phone. 

The sound only made Simon drive faster; his knuckles going white as he gripped the steering wheel, keeping his eyes fixed on the road ahead of him.

They soon heard the sirens that had been coming from your phone; all of their hearts dropping in their chest as they drove towards the crash, each of them mentally trying to prepare themselves for the news they were about to receive. 

~~~~~~~

The flashing red and blue lights painted the trees in strobing bursts of color as the car skidded to a stop just behind the ambulances. 

None of the men waited for the engine to fully die, they threw the doors open and rushed towards the scene of the wreckage in front of them. 

“Jesus,” Johnny breathed out.

Y/f/ns car was mangled against a tree, the front end completely crumpled in.

Smoke was coming from the front of the damaged vehicle and shards of glass were glittering across the side of the road like freshly fallen snow. 

It was like they’d walked into one of their nightmares; their biggest fear somehow becoming a reality. 

There was a young uniformed responder who tried to stop the men from approaching any further; but they quickly failed, each of the men walking past with ease.

“This is a secure area, you can’t just-” the responder tried to argue; before John turned around for a brief moment.

They were only doing their job. 

But right now; he didn’t care.

“We know the people in that car,” he snapped harshly; before turning back around and following his men towards the car. 

“How is she?” Kyle asked, his voice unsteady as he stumbled forward, towards the paramedic, his eyes locking onto you instantly. 

Blood was running down the side of your face; and you weren’t moving much, your chest rising and falling in shallow, laboured breaths.

The paramedic was understandably startled by the appearance of them all, but quickly answered Kyle’s question. 

“She’s lucky,” the paramedic said quickly; allowing Kyle to release a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding.

A similar relief washed over John, Simon and Johnny, who were all crouched alongside Kyle. 

You were alive. 

The relief they all shared was short lived though as the paramedic continued to say, “The drivers side took most of the damage.”

The paramedics' words caused the four men’s attention to go to the driver's side of the car. 

To Y/f/n. 

Blood was trickling down their face from their forehead; their eyes were closed, and for a moment, none of them knew if Y/f/n was even alive…unable to see past you to see their injuries. 

“Are they-?” Johnny began; not being able to say the last word of the question he was asking. 

“We have a pulse but it’s weak and they are currently unresponsive,” the paramedic on the driver's side stated, with a solemn look in their eyes as they slowly and carefully extracted Y/f/n's limp body from the car and onto a stretcher.

A small cough fell from your slightly bloody lips, causing all of their attention to go back to you.  

“It’s okay, baby,” Kyle cooed softly, quickly taking the paramedics place as they went to go and get another stretcher. 

“We’re all here, Bon,” Johnny softly added, gently taking your hand in his, rubbing small circles like he had done before at their house. 

“Let’s give the paramedics some room,” John said to Johnny and Kyle; noticing how reluctant they were to leave your side. 

He didn’t want to leave your side either, but he knew the paramedics needed to remove you from the wreckage and get you to a hospital.

Johnny and Kyle nodded hesitantly, rising to their feet and shuffling back slightly to allow the paramedics the room they needed. 

John took one look at you on that stretcher and felt his heart break completely; this, this was everything he wanted to protect you from. 

He took a few steps away from you and the paramedics; joining Simon who was standing in the road, surveying the scene around them. 

Memorizing and cataloging everything in his mind. 

Simon knew, just like the others did, that this hadn’t been some random car crash.

It was too coincidental.

They didn’t have any proof, but they knew for a fact that Graves and Shepherd were involved somehow. 

But did whoever caused this mean to leave you alive?

Were they going to come back and try to finish the job?

Or was this all simply just a threat towards them, warning them all to stay away from you?

Realistically it didn’t matter all that much; because they weren’t going to let anyone hurt you ever again….

Taglist:

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[lvl109]

“so what i'm hearing is that you hate me and you want me dead.”

a noncommittal hum sounds through the speakers of your phone. “i said no such thing. is there a reason why the dramatics are pertinent even more tonight?”

your eyes narrow. “you haven't called in two days. two days. clearly you hate me.”

a laugh now, tinged with fondness. you try your best to fight off the smile threatening to spread across your lips. “my most sincere apologies, my love. how can i begin to grovel for your forgiveness?”

“you're not getting a lick of forgiveness from me. two days! i was worried.” your brows furrow, amping up the act. “i keep forgetting my stupid boyfriend loves to put himself in harm’s way.”

sylus’ expression softens in the face of your exaggerated complaints, going quiet in the way he does when he realizes his actions have upset you even if just a little bit. it makes your heart sink a little.

“i really was worried,” you finally relent, cracking first underneath the silence. “i know you have to do these things, but. it's not just you anymore. you have people who care about you.”

he looks away for a moment, his gaze downcast. when his gaze returns to the screen, he offers an apologetic smile. “i'm sorry, sweetheart. i didn't mean to frighten you. i'm alright. i promise.”

“you can show you're sorry by getting on the earliest flight home.” your joke slips past in an attempt to divert attention from your growing sadness from being apart for so long. his expression knowing, he agrees without hesitation. “i mean it. i want to see the wine glass when you're on board.”

it's not long before the two of you are engrossed in a recount of your day—from grueling paperwork to wanderer attacks to discounted groceries (a steal) and so on. he listens with rapt attention, adding little comments either to stoke your dramatized frustration or make you laugh between words. in turn, sylus fills you in on what he's able to share on his end, ensuring you that while things were hectic, he'd run into little to no trouble in the two days you hadn't heard from him.

opening your mouth to grill him once again—really, it was that serious—your attention is caught by the sound of keys entering a lock at the front door. sylus pauses when you stop talking, letting out a confused sound at your silence.

“sweetheart? is everything alright?”

muffled footsteps sound from the living room followed by the faint sound of a bag dropping on the couch. the drag of socked feet against the floor is heard for a few more seconds until the bedroom door is pushed open a bit wider, revealing none other than a tired mass of limbs in slight rumpled work clothes.

still, the sight of him makes you smile. “zayne is home,” you say quietly, partly in response to sylus’ question, partly in greeting to your other boyfriend.

too tired for words at the moment, he sheds his jacket and falls forward on to the bed, letting out a tired sigh as he worms his way between your legs much to your vocal surprise. his cheek rests against your thigh, your legs folded over his shoulders.

“long day?” you ask softly, threading a hand through his hair. his lashes rest above his cheeks, casting shadows as he nods after a long beat.

“missed you.” he noses against your bare skin, pressing kisses from your knee to just shy of where your sleep shorts just barely cover your pussy. the sudden mood switch makes you inhale sharply, the hand in his hair tightening a fraction in surprise. “can i?”

you nod immediately, momentarily forgetting about your phone when zayne lifts your legs up and gently tugs your shorts off. two fingers trace against your heat over the thin cotton of your panties, watching through a steadily darkening gaze when your hips shift towards his touch. “you know that doesn't mean anything to me. i need words.”

“yes,” you whimper quietly, spreading your legs on your own. the slight raise of his brows in approval is enough to make you bite your lower lip as large hands grip your thighs. “please touch me. i want you to touch me.”

“and i’m supposed to sit here alone while the two of you ravage each other like animals? how cruel.”

zayne’s eyes narrow when he hears the other voice, pulling at the band of your underwear and soothing over the skin when the fabric snaps back in place. “good to know you're alive,” he mutters dryly. “nobody was worried about you. you can go back to fighting criminals and the like.”

hazel green eyes narrow a bit in faint mirth when you giggle at sylus’ answering scoff. “not true. i was just getting an earful about how incredibly inconsiderate i was concerning the lack of hearing my voice.”

“i cussed him out,” you pipe up cheerfully, earning a kiss to your skin once more.

“good girl.” if you had feathers, they would be fanned out as you preened from the praise. at your boyfriend’s detriment, but it was a little deserved.

sylus sighs, the sound crackling through the tiny speakers. “rewarding bad behavior, doctor? that's a first for you. color me surprised.”

“some rules can be bent within reason.” zayne’s hands slip your panties off, cold fingers spreading your lips open before ghosting over your hole. you muffle your squeak of surprise with a gasp that doesn't go unnoticed by the silver hired man. “watch, will you? keep the phone in view of your face.”

it takes a beat for you to realize the last part was addressed to you. a shaky okay is all you can muster up before his thumb presses against your clit in slow circles. immediately your eyes close against the slowly building pleasure, letting out a sweet sigh. but zayne stops, eliciting a confused sound.

“keep your eyes open for me.” after you let out a quiet sound of affirmation, zayne continues his movements between your legs. “and don't touch yourself.

sylus’ barely stifled sound of surprise makes your heart skip a beat. he lets out a slightly peeved sigh, grumbling incoherently, but when you glance back at your screen you catch a glimpse of his reddening ears. “i wasn't—”

“lying will only make your punishment worse when you come back home.” his sharp rebuttal silences him immediately, making you twitch in anticipation. zayne resumes toying with your clit, his pace increasing with his slowly building impatience. “i told you to watch. how do you expect someone to give you what you want when you can't follow simple instructions?”

your hand grip the phone as pleasure zips up your spine, letting out small gasps and whines—but you force yourself to keep your eyes open despite wanting to close them so desperately. zayne rewards your compliance with two fingers inside of you, a pleased hum going barely unheard over your sharp cry.

“see what happens when you behave? you get what you deserve. isn't that right?” his hand moves to cup the side of your face. “see how good she is? texts me her location even before i ask. so kind. so considerate.”

you just barely hear the sound of muffled curses coming from your phone through the heightened haze of desire, your hips rutting down against his fingers as your bleary gaze focuses on the man before you. the tips of his ears flushed pink being the only giveaway that he, too, was becoming just as affected.

pulling out his fingers, he doesn't have to utter a word before your lips part and wrap around them. “just perfect,” he praises quietly. your thighs squeeze together in an attempt to stave off an impending orgasm.

the sound of zayne’s belt zipping through his belt loops makes the both you groan in tandem, sylus’ immediately beginning to complain about the angle. “let me see her. don't be cruel.”

wordlessly, your phone is picked up and the view is switched to the back camera, letting the other man see through zayne’s perspective. his fingers wet with your spit, your shirt pulled up just under your chest from your squirming, and your pussy wet from his teasing. a little further down is the sight of zayne straining against his slacks. his wet hand leaves your mouth and splays over your navel, his thumb toying with your clit again.

zayne laughs a bit when your hips jerk to chase your orgasm, putting the camera in view of your petulant expression. “you know what you have to do if you want to cum.”

you don't waste a single second. “can i?” your eyes widen with unshed tears, already at your limit with zayne’s teasing. “please, sylus? i've b-been so—aah—good, fuck!”

you can't see his expression from where your spread out, but the sight of you on his screen, pleading with him for your orgasm makes his pupils dilate. the hunger in his voice is near tangible when his voice grits out, shared greed for your pleasure palpable even through the phone. “give her what she wants and more.”

everything is a blur soon after. zayne’s barely suppressed groan of relief when he pushes inside of you, hips smacking the back of your thighs as his hand remains pressed against your stomach. praise crackling through the phone followed by slick noises and low curses. the headboard hitting against the wall over and over again. the intense feeling of being watched.

half completed begging turns into a repeated mantra of the same three words that affects them both. tears streaming down your face, hair askew across your pillow as your hands scramble for anything to hold on to. “i wanna cum—i wanna cum, i wanna—i—”

“let go, sweetheart, do it—”

“show us how good you can take it—”

your orgasm feels like an explosion of light behind your eyes, squeezed shut as your body curls in on itself. you cry out and grip zayne’s arm as he shudders through the sudden grip around his cock, spitting out filth that makes your heart skip. 

“fucking—take it—take it all—” his voice is shot, frantic movements jostling you up the mattress as he chases his own orgasm. the phone drops from his hand when yours find his hair and tug sharply, one final moan leaving his lips before his hips stutter and his cock pulses inside of you. 

as he catches his breath, your shaky hand pats around for your phone and angles right at the mess of cum and sweat between your bodies, the sight enough for sylus to choke on his next inhale and finish with a muffle grunt into his fist.

quiet panting fills the air. zayne’s forehead rests against your shoulder, his eyes closed as your other hand strokes through his hair. exhaustion catches to him quick, just barely having enough energy to pull out and clean the two of you up before he slumps back down into the sheets and passes out.

you and sylus share a look of faint amusement before you turn a press a kiss to zayne’s forehead. “he definitely needed that.” 

[corrcdedcoffin]

Pissed - JJ Maybank

request: yes

summary: you and jj get into a drunken fight and ignore each other for days. in those few days, your friends don't hear from you and go looking for you, only to find you unconscious in the middle of nowhere.

warnings: hurt/comfort fic. drunk fights. mentions of blood and stitches. fluff. happy ending.

Pissed was an understatement. You were furious; full of blinding rage — and so was he.

It started off as a small argument when you saw some girl throwing herself at JJ. You knew he wouldn't ever entertain it, but you were drunk and got jealous (something JJ always thought was cute, except for that day). So, things got heated between you.

You couldn't help it — whoever she was, was practically drooling all over him and trying to touch him wherever she could get her grubby little hands. You saw him laugh hard at something she said, only making her lean into him even more. It drove you mad. Even more so when he didn't seem to be getting rid of her.

Why wasn't he getting rid of her?

Usually when you argue, it hardly ever turns into a full blown fight. It was one of the things the rest of the pogues were surprised by, but fond of. But this time, things were said that can't necessarily be taken back.

Clingy. Possessive. Annoying.

The way he shouted them at you was on a constant loop in your mind. The fact that he'd shouted at you in the first place was enough to have you offended.

Asshole. Fuckface.  Mentions of a break up.

Don't fucking talk to me again.

You couldn't escape it. Everyone knew that JJ was prone to outbursts, but never with you. No, he always kept his cool with you, even during fights. He always found a way to calm himself and you down, always said he didn't want you to go to bed angry because if you did, it meant he failed at making you happy. At being your person.

Now, it's been two days.

Two whole days without seeing or talking to him. Two days of bone crushing dread. 

Kiara had told you about everyone getting together at John B's, and said JJ was already there. You didn't mind keeping it civil while with friends, but you weren't gonna be the first one to break. You were standing your ground. 

When you arrived, JJ got up and left without a word. 

It was like taking a knife straight to the heart. 

You acted like it didn't bother you, but your friends knew you both better than that. Pope tried to offer some consolation and advice, you shrugged it off and said you were fine, but he'd never seen you so quiet before.

On the third day, no one had heard from you at all. John B texted you about the swell, and all he got in reply was a simple no at ten in the morning.

Sarah and Kiara texted and called you throughout the day wanting to have a girls night, go shopping, do something without the boys. They knew you were upset, and nothing could cure a hurting heart like some time with your girls. 

They didn't get a response either.  It wasn't until later that they started to really worry.

You had always been good at keeping your friends in the loop, even if you weren't up to hanging out. You'd say you wouldn't make it, but you'd see them the next day, or whenever you could. You'd still respond to random texts and sent tiktok's, at the very least giving a reaction to it.

Today was radio silence. Even JJ was starting to worry, though he tried not to show it. The girls got mad at him for that.

"You're being an idiot, JJ" Kiara told him.

"Seriously! What if something happened to her?" Sarah added.

JJ rolled his eyes, sighing. "Nothing happened, okay? She's probably just trying to get a rise outta me, and it's not gonna work, alright?"

Everyone was silent at that, because they knew you'd never take it that far.

"I'm gonna go look for her" Sarah spoke, getting up from the couch. She had an uneasy feeling she couldn't ignore. 

Kiara volunteered to go with her, and eventually everyone except JJ had got up from their seats and headed towards the twinkie.

Pope looked back at JJ and let out a deep breath, full of disappointment. "Come on, man. Even you know this is out of character for her, and if you really aren't worried like you're acting, then you're not who I thought you were."

He let the door slam after that, making JJ groan and harshly rub his face. The thought of something happening to you was eating him from the inside out. It wasn't until he heard the sputtering engine start that he got up and ran to the van, shouting for them to wait.

After deciding the first logical place to check was your house, the ride was silent. Shaking legs, fiddling fingers, insides of cheeks being chewed.

It got worse after they found out you weren't home.

They checked everywhere. The boneyard, the park, your favourite cafe, the bar, even checked if you worked that day. Nobody had heard from you.

Everyone was arguing on where to look next, having a hard time deciding since you didn't frequent very many places, and being unable to come up with anything that would make sense for you. They were silenced when JJ got behind the wheel, telling them all to get in.

There was one spot they didn't check.

The drive was a bit lengthy for the tension, the trees growing thicker didn't put anyone at ease. It was a spot you and JJ had found a few years ago while fucking around and exploring questionable terrain. You'd found a small, beaten path and begged him to see where it lead.

To both your surprise, it was a small pond with a semi stable gazebo with a hole in the roof that was big enough to stargaze through. You'd spent quite a bit of time out there together, calling it your own and claiming it as your future wedding spot.

The memories had JJ clenching his jaw.

How could he have been so stupid, so stubborn? You were the light of his life, how could he treat you like this? All you did was shower him with the love he so deeply craved. You cared about him more than anyone, and he hurt you. There were a million thoughts running through his mind. 

Were you hurt? Were you with someone else? Was this really a break up and not just a fight gone too far?

If it was a break up, JJ didn't know if he'd ever be okay again. You were his girl, forever and always. He knew he'd never be able to move on from you, and he never wanted to. 

He slowed down as they got closer, hearts and minds feeling slight relief at the sight of your car. Before he had the van in park, Sarah and Pope had hopped out and ran to your car to check for you. 

JJ was silent as he walked past and through the trees, everyone sharing looks of confusion before shrugging and following along. It was quiet. Mosquitos buzzing and crickets chirping could be heard all around. The occasional twig snapping under someones shoe. 

"Where the hell are we going?" John B broke the silence. 

The path was dark. Sarah and Pope had turned on their phones flashlight as JJ replied, "It's a spot we found a few years ago."

Just ahead they could see the clearing, and the faint outline of the gazebo. Kiara called out your name as she looked around, but got no response. As they got closer to the gazebo, JJ started to run. 

It wasn't until he kneeled down that they saw you lying there. 

"Hey, hey, wake up" he shook you gently. No response. 

"C'mon, baby" he tried again, but it wasn't until Pope shone the light on you that they noticed the blood trickling down your temple. 

"Oh god, what happened?" Kiara asked no one in particular. 

John B walked around looking at the gazebo, noticing a fallen board nearby, a tiny splotch of blood on the corner. "This happened" he held it up. 

JJ clenched his jaw, ashamed of himself for being so stubborn and letting you get hurt. He scooped you up and held you tight, "Hospital. Now."

Everyone ran back down the trail and got the van ready to go, JJ going as fast as he could without light, trying not to trip and hurt you even more. Pope helped him get you in the van, Sarah shutting the door as John B sped back to town. 

He sat on the floor with you pulled against him. Cradling your head and gently stroking your hair away from your face, pulling it out of the drying blood and exposing your wound. It didn't look life threatening, but you'd definitely need stitches. 

"Check her nose" Pope said, turning his flashlight back on. 

"For what?" John B asked. 

"If her brain is bleeding!"

"There's no blood" said Sarah. 

"It's not blood that comes out, it would be clear and watery and it's not good."

JJ looked, then wiped a finger under your nose. "She's good" was all he said. 

They went back to being silent after that, watching with sadness as JJ caressed you and kissed at your head over and over. Any other time anyone saw him tear up at something, they'd have laughed and poked fun at him for breaking his tough guy exterior. This time, they were silent. 

It was his worst nightmare come true. Fighting and not talking, on the brink of losing you not just temporarily, but forever. 

He ran into the hospital as fast as he could when they pulled up, careful not to shake your head too much. He screamed for help. He placed you on a bed. He watched as they ran away with you, checking your pulse and your breathing, and he was left there to wait. 

It felt like a lifetime sitting in that waiting room. Twiddling his thumbs, watching the news, reading shitty magazines. He tried to nap, but his brain was working overtime telling him all the things he did wrong in your relationship, specifically the last four days. 

He tried to see you. 

The doctors and nurses kept telling him no, family only. They didn't listen when he said he was your boyfriend, and they didn't care that he was the one to bring you in. Pope and John B had to hold him back and talk the staff out of kicking him out. 

He had to wait nearly six hours before he got to see you. Six dreadful hours. Your parents never showed up, so the doctor finally let him in after JJ explained that they were on another continent, and the only family that was here, was them. 

They all piled into your room, staring at you. Stitched and bandaged, monitor clipped to your finger and an IV attached to the opposite hand. 

"She's going to be fine," the doctor began. "Minor concussion at most."

"Then what's the IV for?" JJ asked. 

The doctor sighed, knowing he wasn't letting up until he got answers. "C'mon man. She's got no one else here" JJ spoke, fatigue preventing him from snapping. 

"It's antibiotics in case of any infection from the wood, just a precaution. I'll leave you to it" she nodded before leaving the room. 

Everyone stayed for a little while before leaving. John B and Sarah said they'd be back in the morning with some clothes for you both and some food. JJ sat in the stiff visitors chair, scooting close and holding your hand, resting his head on your bed and finally getting some sleep for the first time in days. 

He woke up to a soothing scratch against his scalp. He always loved when you'd play with his hair. 

His head shot up and he stared at you, wide eyed. Everything he wanted to say to you got bunched up in a ball and stuck in his throat, his eyes watering as he struggled to get any sort of word out. 

"It's okay" you whispered, and he lost it. 

"It's not okay" he shook his head, "I'm so sorry" he sobbed. He apologized over and over, a blubbering mess. You rubbed his hand, his arm and his back as he cried until he calmed down. 

"God, I'm an idiot" he sniffled, "You're the one hurt and in the hospital and you're the one comforting me" he shook his head, wiping his eyes and nose. 

"That's okay" you shrugged. 

"No, it's not!" he argued, rubbing his face in distress. "Are you okay? How's your head?" he asked, moving to sit next to you on the bed, not letting go of your hand. 

"It's fine. A little sore but.." you shrugged. 

He just stared at you. He tried to come up with anything to make the situation better, but he couldn't. 

"I'm so sorry, baby" he whispered. "For everything. The fight, the things I said, everything after. For being so fucking stubborn I- I'm so, so sorry." 

You nodded. "I'm sorry too. I--"

"No, you don't have anything to be sorry for."

"JJ stop. Just because I hit myself in the head doesn't mean I didn't also fuck up, okay? I lost my shit on you and it wasn't cool, I was just.. I don't know. Drunk and jealous, and I didn't handle it well, clearly."

"We were both idiots" he stated. "I just, I need to make sure you weren't serious when you mentioned breaking up. Or if you were." He choked out. 

Every single part of him was praying you didn't mean it. He wasn't sure what he'd do if you did. 

You shook your head, tears spilling out. "No," you sniffled. "I don't want that. Do you?"

"No, no, absolutely not. You're it for me, sweetheart."

You were released from the hospital a few hours later. John B and Sarah had brought you some clean clothes and a peanut butter sandwich with a wildberry juice box. You scarfed it down before they even started to take you home. When parking outside your apartment, they both gave you a big hug and kiss on the head before leaving. 

JJ didn't let go of you since you woke up. He always had a hand on you, or holding you, he even helped you get dressed before leaving the hospital. He doted on you all day long, making you food and snacks, bringing you water, massaging wherever he could get his hands on you. 

You'd spent the day watching movies, talking, cuddling. Making up for the days lost. 

He'd made spaghetti for dinner, then ran a bath for you, candles all around and bubbles filling the tub. He undressed you, helped you in, and then sat on the floor right next to you. 

"What're you so far away for?" you asked, and he scooched closer. You shook your head. "Get in" you said. 

You watched as he undressed and climbed in behind you. You leaned back against him and closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling of him rubbing your arms, shoulders, neck and chest. Relishing in the love and affection he was showering you in. 

It was quiet and relaxing, and you never wanted it to end. 

"I love you" JJ whispered, kissing your head. "So much."

"I love you, J."

[confuzing]

...So, that All the Shen Siblings Transmigrate AU? I wrote the Qijiu reconciliation in that universe. It's 1800 words long so I'm gonna read more most of it.

 Yue Qingyuan woke in the dead of night and found himself unable to move from the neck down. A shadowy figure was leaving his room.  He would be more concerned about this if he didn’t recognize the toddler the shadowy figure had left sitting on his chest.

“Shen Meishan,” he greeted her. “It’s nice to see you.”

Meimei giggled at him. 

“Clearly your brothers are up to something,” he said. “Do you know what?”

Meimei answered, but she was unfortunately in that stage of babyhood where most of what she said was babbling, and he did not possess her brothers’ talent for interpreting her. He thought he caught the word ‘gege’ but that wasn’t much help.

“I see,” he said. At least his training in diplomacy had taught him what to do when someone was talking nonsense.

Meimei nodded solemnly, then reached out and poked his nose.

“Ding!” she said.

“Oh fascinating,” Yue Qingyuan said.  “I didn’t know it did that.”

Meimei giggled again.

It had likely been the eldest Shen who had paralyzed him.  Qian Cao doctors could do a lot with their acupuncture needles- though he wouldn’t put it past Shen Yuan to have found a plant or artifact that had the same effect.

He could hear a scuffle coming his way, so he’d find out soon enough.

The door to his room opened and he watched Shen Qingqiu be wrestled into the room by his brothers.

“Shen Qingqiu,” he greeted. He didn’t get a response but that was understandable, Shen Qingqiu was busy.

“Shen Xuan,” he continued his greetings.  Technically it was Chen Xuan, but the eldest Shen had stopped protesting the name change months ago.

“Zhangmen-shixiong,” Shen Xuan replied calmly. Like he didn’t have his brother in a headlock, and as if he couldn’t feel Xiao Jiu biting his arm.

“Shen Yuan,” Yue Qingyuan concluded.

His disciple winced but then put on the same serene mask his siblings often wore and said, “Shizun.”

Surprisingly Luo Binghe wasn’t present.  Shen Yuan’s ever present shadow was not welcome at whatever this was… that actually made Yue Qingyuan a little nervous.

Shen Yuan deliberately tripped Shen Jiu, allowing Shen Xuan to manhandle him down onto the bed beside Yue Qingyuan.

Meimei giggled at the ‘thump’ they made hitting the bed.

“I’m glad you think this is funny,” Shen Jiu snapped at her with less than a quarter of his usual venom.

Shen Jiu was face down on the bed; Shen Xuan seated himself on his back while Shen Yuan sat on his legs. Shen Xuan also pinned Shen Jiu’s wrists.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he snarled at full venom.

“We’re here to ask Qi-ge some questions.” Shen Xuan said. 

The ‘Qi-ge’ made his heart freeze. Oh.  That’s what this was about. 

Xiao Jiu went wild, nearly succeeding in bucking his siblings off him before he seemed to surrender completely.

“He isn’t going to fucking say anything.” Shen Jiu said. “He never fucking does.”

“Well we’re gonna sit here until he does,” Shen Yuan piped up.  “We have co-conspirators, you won’t be missed for some time Shizun.”

Ah, that’s where Luo Binghe was, possibly Mu Qingfang was in on this as well. If that was the case he could truly go unmissed for at least a day or so before anyone got suspicious and came looking.

“Now,” Shen Xuan said. “Why didn’t you come back for Shen Jiu like you promised?”

The familiar omnipresent guilt washed over him, but the audience didn’t change his response.

“I am very sorry for what I’ve done,” he said.

Having four Shens glare at him was a new experience- much more oppressive than just one.

Meimei crawled off his chest and went to sit in Shen Yuan’s lap.

“See?” Shen Jiu said. “This is fucking pointless.”

Yue Qingyuan had not met Chen Xuan before he became Shen Xuan. The eldest Shen had always seemed like a calm, level-headed, and sweet man to him.  Now he watched the man get quietly furious just as Xiao Jiu did, before his face shifted into the cold calculating look Yue Qingyuan saw most often on Xiao Jiu or Shen Yuan.

Shen Xuan looked down at Shen Jiu. “I’m sorry didi.” He said, and bent to kiss Shen Jiu’s temple.

Shen Jiu couldn’t turn his head more than it was, but he clearly wanted to, squirming to try to get a better look at his older brother.  “What are you going to do?” he asked.

Shen Xuan ignored him and locked eyes with Yue Qingyuan.

“He thinks you hate him you know,” Shen Xuan said. “He thinks you never intended to come back for him and that you threw him away like trash. Is he right?”

Yue Qingyuan was thunderstruck, that couldn’t be right- surely Xiao Jiu knew how much he adored him. He couldn’t-

Xiao Jiu let out a stifled sob. Yue Qingyuan tried for the first time since waking to move- but he couldn’t.  The other Shen siblings on the other hand moved immediately. Both Shen Jiu’s brothers got off him, Shen Xuan pulling Shen Jiu up into a seated position to hug him.  Shen Yuan and Meimei scooting over to hug him from the other side, sandwiching Xiao Jiu in the middle of his siblings.  Xiao Jiu hid his face in Shen Yuan’s hair for a moment before looking over at Yue Qingyuan.

“Just say it already,” Shen Jiu said-begged.  His eyes were wet. “Just say you hate me so we can stop fucking pretending.”

“Xiao Jiu is my favorite person in the world. I could never hate him.” Yue Qingyuan heard himself say.

Had Xiao Jiu truly thought this the whole time? Was that why he was so angry? Not because he was mad at him for being an idiot, but because he thought Yue Qingyuan was pretending not to hate him? 

But of course that was why, he realized. His own agitation made qi surge between himself and Xuan Su on its stand across the room.  After all Xiao Jiu had no idea how stupid his Qi-ge had been.

“You left me,” Xiao Jiu snapped. “And you never came back. What was I supposed to think?”

What indeed? What had the expected Xiao Jiu to do? He’d been so young when they parted, and so sensitive to any rejection.  Of course he’s thought Yue Qingyuan had abandoned him.  He really was tremendously stupid.

“I did come back,” Yue Qingyuan said. Explaining was like ripping his own heart out of his chest, like being alone in those caves again- but he’d endured it once for Xiao Jiu, he would do it again. “I was too late.”

“What?”

“I spent a week digging through the smoldering ruins of Qiu manor before my Shizun came and dragged me back to the sect. I thought you were dead.  Seeing you alive at the Immortal Alliance Conference was the best day of my life.”

Xiao Jiu’s eyes were wide as saucers, his whole face a picture of shock. 

“Gege let him up,’ he said eventually.

Shen Xuan stopped hugging him just long enough to remove the acupuncture needles from Yue Qingyuan’s neck.

He had the strangest sensation of something crawling all over him for a moment, but he ignored it in favor of sitting up so he could look Xiao Jiu in the eyes.

“Why did you take so long?” he asked.

Yue Qingyuan grimaced, but Xiao Jiu deserved to know.

“Qi-ge did something very foolish,” he said.

“He always does when I’m not there to keep an eye on him.” Xiao Jiu countered. “He’s simply an idiot I fear.”

The affection in those insults was a balm on his soul. He took a deep breath and spilled his guts.

“I was going to come for you as soon as I got my spiritual sword.  I trained as hard as I could as fast as I could- but when I went to pull my sword… I thought I needed the best sword, the strongest, to save Xiao Jiu.”

“Xuan Su didn’t pick me, I forced the bond.”

All three Shen brothers gasped. Adorably, a beat later Meimei did as well.

“Can you do that?” Shen Yuan asked.

“Only if you want to literally explode.” Shen Xuan told him.

“How are you alive?” he asked Yue Qingyuan.

“I was a good enough match the sword didn’t immediately kill me- and then my Shizun bound my soul to Xuan Su’s qi.  The process kept me alive, but Xuan Su remade my spiritual veins and bones to suit its needs- I was essentially qi deviating the entire time it was happening.”

“How long was that?” Xiao Jiu asked.

“A year. They sealed me in a chamber in the Ling Xi caves so I didn’t hurt anyone.”

“Except yourself!” Xiao Jiu hissed. “The chamber with the bloodstains…”

“Yes.” Yue Qingyuan said, eyes dropping. “I came for you the moment they let me out- but it was too late.”

Warm arms embraced him, he looked up to find Xiao Jiu hugging him, and glaring more.

“You absolute fucking idiot!” he snapped.  “Why the fuck would you need a giant fucking sword to come fly me away?”

“This one is lost without his Xiao Jiu.”

“Clearly you half-wit!”

“You never draw your sword,” Shen Xuan said.  He was clearly herding the youngest two Shens toward the door.

“When I do it burns through my own life-force.” Yue Qingyuan explained.

Xiao Jiu’s arms tightened around him.  If he was lucky they would leave bruises.

“Does Mu Qingfang know?” Shen Xuan asked.

“Before tonight he was the only other person still on this plane besides me who knew.”

Shen Xuan nodded.

“Shen Yuan,�� Xiao Jiu said suddenly. “Do not tell that little beast about this.”

Shen Yuan nodded and left, holding Meimei.  Shen Xuan was right behind them.

Once they were gone Yue Qingyuan said. “He’s absolutely going to tell Luo Binghe.”

“I know.” Xiao Jiu grumbled. “I’ll threaten the brat into silence later.”

He eyed Yue Qingyuan. “I’m still mad at you,” he said. He had not let go of Yue Qingyuan yet.

“I deserve all the anger you want to give me,” Yue Qingyuan said. “I failed to save you, and then I let you suffer while I wallowed in self pity and shame.”

Xiao Jiu slapped him hard. “And you nearly killed yourself you stupid piece of shit!”

Yue Qingyuan was still stunned from the slap when Xiao Jiu kissed him hard, biting his lip until it bled.  He was only just able to kiss back before Xiao Jiu pulled away.

He had Yue Qingyuan’s blood on his teeth as he spoke. “You aren’t allowed to die- do you understand?” He shoved Yue Qingyuan down on to his back and climbed on top of him. “I forbid it!”

“Of course, whatever Xiao Jiu wants.”

Xiao Jiu huffed and bent over him.

“Good,”” he snapped and bit Yue Qingyuan’s mouth again. “Don’t you forget!”

[dxmurewrites]

Light in the Dark

Part One of a two shot I'm making for Paddy! No actual smut in this one, I wanted to write something that could be read as a standalone + with a part two containing the smut.

pairing: Paddy Mayne x Fem!Nurse!Reader

summary: Seeing you in his clothes made Paddy feel absolutely feral, and he hated himself for it.

word count: 3010 words.

unedited: it's 2am again ... I cannot be bothered.

warnings: language, mentions of war, blood, wounds, medical language, reader has hair (my bad, we washing our hair in this), sexual tension, impure thoughts, mutual bullying, mutual attraction despite denying it, borderline possessive behaviour, nsfw themes but no actual smut!

let me know what you think! I love feedback! Unless it's mean, then that's stink energy... like, comment, reblog, mwah.

———————

“You smell like shite."

"Hello to you too Paddy," You chuckle, writing in your journal. You hadn't looked up to the Lieutenant as he entered your tent, keeping your head down as you continued writing in your stock inventory. "Are you well?"

"M'fine," He answers quickly, looking you over. His gaze lingered over your uniform, the small drip of sweat that dripped down your neck and beneath the fabric. Paddy clears his throat. "Here to take you to the showers."

Oh.

You hadn't even realised the time.

6pm on the dot.

Bathing was a luxury here, but being the only woman meant you couldn't shower at the same time as everyone else. Begrudgingly, Paddy has been tasked with supervising you as you bathed, albeit with his back turned.

He trusted his men, as did you, but it was apart of the terms to having you on site. You showered when the sun was coming down, and Paddy made sure there weren't any peeping toms trying their luck.

"Right, of course," Nodding, you quickly stand, packing your journal back into its place on your makeshift desk. He watches intently as you run around the infirmary, picking up pieces of clothing you had strung up to dry. "Let's go then." "Oh you're ready are ya?" Paddy quips, checking his pocket watch with a dramatic sigh. "No s'fine, I'll wait around for you to paint your nails next." Snorting, you barge past him, being sure to bump into his shoulder with your own with your clothes in hand. He grunts at the action, turning around to follow after you. "Keep being a bastard and I'll paint your nails next."

You didn't even have any nail polish, he knew that - but Paddy was sure to ridicule you every chance he got.

No one could explain what was going on between the two of you. Everyone knew there was something there, but Paddy was stubborn to all hell, and you, well, you just enjoyed keeping him on his toes.

His lips turned upward at your remark, but the lieutenant chooses not to reply, keeping a small distance between the two of you as he escorts you to the temporary bathrooms.

Within minutes you were stripped to nothing, hair out of it's tied back state and soaked by the cold water pouring from the shower head. The 'walls' were ripped blankets, the floor an old welcome mat from some long forgotten home.

Paddy stood with his back turned just a few metres away, his hands crossed over his chest as his eyes scanned around. No one would be dumb enough to even try anything, but he still took his little role seriously. His mens safety was his priority, and that included you.

"Paddy," he hears you call, the water now switched off. "Could you pass me my towel please?"

He nods once in response, grabbing your bundle of clothes and your towel from beside him. Walking backwards, he keeps his eyes on the sand below him, walking until the sand turns into concrete, and he holds his arm out, waiting for you to grab your belongings.

Your small hand reaches out, soft fingers brushing against his calloused ones as you mumble a small thank you.

Paddy waits a little longer, hearing the rustling of clothes and the familiar sound of the shower 'door' being opened. He turns his head slightly, seeing you dressed in your night clothes, hand running through your wet hair with your towel as you give him a mock salute.

"All good here lieutenant," you say his title like a mockery amongst friends, but he didn't care. "As usual, my sincerest gratitude."

It was his turn to snort. "One of these days I won't have to babysit so you can wash your arse." He shakes his head, watching as you grin at his words.

"Can't argue there," You shrug, continuing to dry your hair and running your fingers to pull out any tangles. "But until then, my washed arse thanks you."

The Irishman just eyes you with humour in his eyes, and you nudge him with your elbow before excusing yourself, making your way back to your tent. His eyes follow your every step, and he clears his throat, nodding to himself before he returns to his own quarters.

It was only a couple hours later when it felt like hell had taken over. A mission had gone successful, but one of the Sergeants, Pat, had been quite injured. It was manageable for you, but it had been a hands on moment and a few of the others had to assist.

Pat lay in the infirmary, bandaged head to toe and completely out of it. You sat beside him, catching your breath as your arms rested on your thighs. Blood soaked your hands and arms, your pyjamas stained - there hadn't even been time to change when the boys brought him in.

They had yelled for you the moment they returned, carrying the unconscious and wounded man in like he was a limp doll. It had been tedious, even worrying at one point, but he was alive and would make a full recovery.

It didn't stop the shakes in your hands however, or the blood that dripped from your fingers to the ground below. You wiped at your face, mixing with the sweat that gathered across your forehead.

He's alive.

That's all that mattered.

"You alright?"

His voice startled you, your hunched over frame jolting at the sudden intrusion. Paddy holds his arms up, a small apology leaving his mouth at your jump.

You nodded, wiping your cheek again, eyes squinting as you yawn. "Should be asking if Pat's alright," you say through your yawn, pointing towards the sleeping soldier next to you. "Which he is, time will decide the rest."

Paddy nods slowly, his lips tightening in a small frown as he thinks over your words. "Course he'll be good, he's got you looking' after him."

Your eyebrow raises at the compliment. It wasn't like the Irishman to say sweet things, maybe a jest mixed with a small praise, but never just flattery. A part of you wanted to comment on it, make fun of him and meet him at his usual level, but you decided against it.

"Thank you Paddy," you murmured, just loud enough for him to hear as you stood up, stretching out your legs. "Are you alright? No lumps or bumps you're not telling me about?"

His frown melted away as he shook his head, a small smile on his face. "Ye still trying to get me naked nurse?" there he is. "Ye little deviant."

"S'it working?"

He scoffs, rolling his eyes as he steps towards you. The air felt different in the tent, dry, sure, the desert providing barely any relief, but you always felt heated when the lieutenant was near. Paddy's eyes roam over your frame, his eyebrows furrowing as he takes in the state of you.

"You need another wash," He remarks, nodding towards your blood stained skin and pyjamas. "I'll get Stirling to watch over Pat 'ere, want me to grab anything' for ye?"

It was your turn to frown, looking around the room. The only spare clothes you had were still drying on various pieces of furniture, and you groaned. "I don't have any night clothes left," you admitted, feeling almost childish for even complaining about it. "This was my last clean pair."

Paddy shrugs, thinking it a non issue. "Just head on out and leave it with me," as if sensing your reply, he gives you a stern look. "Just do it girl."

Holding your arms up in defeat, you follow his order, leaving the tent and into the night. Various soldiers stood around the site, all nodding at you in thanks, some saying your name in appreciation.

Their nods were met with a small smile, feeling a little ridiculous in your pyjamas and blood covered state.

It wasn't anything they weren't used to.

As far as they were concerned, you were a light in the dark that kept everyone safe. Just like Paddy. They were adamant the two of you were so similar in your own little, weird way.

You sat on a rock, staring off into the vast desert as you waited. It wasn't long until Paddy, true to his word, met you at the showers. He held some clothes in his hand, even a hairbrush.

The area was dimly lit by some lanterns, but it was just enough to see what was in front of you.

"Stirlin' thought you'd want to fix the mop on your head," He titled his chin into the direction of your head, and you rolled your eyes. "But 'ere, try these."

He hands the clothing over, and you didn't even have to ask, already knowing who they belonged too. "You okay parting with these?"

Paddy's eyes narrowed at your words. "How'd you know these are mine?" he exhales in amusement. "What if I pinched them from Reg?"

"Reg doesn't have clothes this clean," you retort, holding the clothes away from your body in an attempt to keep them clean. "Besides, they got a Paddy smell to them." "A Paddy smell," He repeats your words, rolling his eyes. "What, shite and sweat?"

"You don't smell like shit," Laughter leaves your lungs instantly, handing the clothes back to him as you begin to walk towards the shower. Paddy takes his position, back turned to the world as you begin to undress. "You smell okay, all things considered."

He hums at your response, taking it as a win. It was a luxury even having somewhere to bathe, so no one was expected to smell like flowers and oils.

With the blood washed from your body and coating the floor, you dried off before pulling on Paddy’s shirt, buttoning up the best you could.

By the time you were finished, you stood beside him once more, now time sporting one of his army fatigues. It covered everything that was needed, leaving your legs bare from the thighs down.

Was it appropriate?

Not really, but given the situation, no one was going to question it.

Paddy turns to look at you completely, his jaw tightening as he takes everything in. He inhales, quietly enough that he hoped you didn't notice.

You did.

He was anything but inconspicuous.

God, you were a vision. Even in the low light from the lanterns, you managed to steal his words and make the mouthy man feel mute. He thought you were breathtaking even when wearing the most mundane uniform, but seeing you in his clothes made him feel like the world around him was spinning.

Maybe he was concussed.

Clearing his throat, Paddy looks away, feeling almost guilty for his thoughts. You had just saved one of his men, lost another set of clothes to blood and had to shower in the cold of the night.

The sound of you brushing your hair filled his ears, and he cleared his throat again, trying to think of anything else. "Should uh - should get ye' out of the cold."

"It's actually quite nice," you admitted, finishing with your hair and tucking the hairbrush into one of Paddy's pockets, ignoring the way he eyed your movements like a hawk. "Bit overexposed though."

"Aye," he agrees, finally looking over your bare legs and swallowing. "One breeze and you're giving the boys a show."

You laugh loudly at his words, but he wasn't wrong, so you nodded, nudging him with your elbow. "Not wearing anything under this either, I think I'd make their whole year."

He closes his eyes at the revelation. It was meant as a joke, but knowing you were in fact bare beneath his clothes made his pants feel a little tighter, and he felt the heat in his stomach begin to bloom.

Your giggles sound like a siren's call, the sound becoming softer as you had already started your walk back to your tent, eager to send Stirling away and keep an eye on Pat.

By the time you made your way back into your tent, the once empty infirmary was now full of soldiers. It stopped you in your tracks, seeing familiar faces all laying on the beds, even Stirling asleep in yours.

"Am I missing something? Sleepover at mine?" You call out, bringing everyone's attention to the entrance of your makeshift home. "Didn't realise it was girls night."

A few laugh, someone even going as far to wolf whistle at you, noticing your new attire. "We thought we'd all stay in here for when Pat wakes up Miss." Jim, one of the sweeter giants in the bunch answers.

"Right," your voice trails off, eventually feeling Paddy's presence behind you. "And where am I meant to sleep?"

"Not in here," Paddy responds from behind, side stepping you and eyeing the scene in front of him with a raised eyebrow. "Look at you lot, kickin' our own nurse out of her bed."

"Blame Stirling," someone calls out, bringing attention to the lieutenant in your bed. "We'll keep an eye on everything anyway, you can sleep in my bed Miss."

"Or mine!" Someone else shouts, and a few more offer their beds with an eagerness that made you laugh loudly.

"Enough of that," Paddy stands with his hands on his hips. "She's not staying' anywhere near you lot."

"I'll sleep in David's bed then," You shrug before nodding towards Pat, who still remained asleep. "Just keep an eye on his bandages, any fresh bleeding and you all come wake me up yeah?"

They murmur in agreements, some giving you a thumbs up before you give Paddy a nod, making your leave once again.

The infirmaries tent flaps close behind you, and you're about to make your way to Stirling's tent when a hand on your waist guides you elsewhere. His footsteps step in line with yours, and you can't help but roll your eyes playfully at the action.

It was obvious who it was. Only one person here would be confident enough to touch you this way. That, and you were being directed to another familiar tent, one that resided further away from everyone else's.

"Not joining the sleepover Paddy?" you mutter softly, smiling from ear to ear as he grunts in response.

"You're not sleepin' anywhere I can't keep an eye on you," He sounded almost like he was trying to convince himself more than anything. The Irishman leads you to his tent, holding the entrance open and escorting you inside. He nods towards his trundle, made and ready for a body. "I'm goin' for a wash, I won't be long."

"You don't want me to escort you?" It was a jest, and Paddy pushed you forwards towards his bed in response. "Don't want me to pretend I'm keeping my back turned and not taking little sneak peaks?"

"Watch it." He points his finger at you, saying your name in warning, but he doesn't deny it. He goes to say something else, his lips opening and closing a few times before he decides against it, instead just leaving in a rush.

It made you grin, and you did what he asked, climbing into his bed eagerly. His familiar scent coated the sheets, providing a comfort you weren't expecting.

Safety was a long forgotten feeling here, but with Paddy around, his very being provided a sanctuary you weren't expecting to find in the middle of nowhere.

It wasn't long before he returned, apart of him hoping you'd be asleep when he arrived seeing as he hadn't brought any clothes with him. The two of you eyed each other, a silent stare down as he swallowed, standing in the entrance with a tattered towel around his waist, droplets of water still sliding down his bare chest.

"Shit," Immediately closing your eyes, you hold your hands up and over them in an extra effort to shield yourself from the lieutenant. "Sorry."

"It's okay." You hear him mutter, followed by some rustling around. He pulled on a loose pair of trousers, a white vest following suit. Standing beside the bed as he pulled his pants up, he can't help once again the way his eyes follow your feet up to your soft thighs.

You had laid over the blanket, wanting to wait for Paddy's return to discuss the actual sleeping arrangements.

Paddy's breathing comes out laboured, noticing the shirt you had borrowed from him had shifted further up as your arms moved when shielding your eyes. He looks to the ceiling, trying to gather his thoughts, sending silent threats to himself at the impure images he started conjuring up.

"Paddy?" Your soft voice brings his attention back to Earth, and he clears his throat, mumbling a 'hm?' in reply.

Your eyes were open now, your hands bunching at the blanket below. Your cheeks felt hot, your lower stomach feeling no different as you stared up at the man before you.

He eyes you curiously, and you shamelessly looked down below his waist, attempting to bring his attention to the erection he had started to grow.

It was his turn to blush, and he immediately stuttered your name and an apology, turning around to conceal himself. Paddy nearly chokes when he feels your soft hands on his waist, your delicate fingers urging him to turn back around.

"I'm not uh, I'm," Paddy tries to apologise, noticing you shake your head. "Fuck."

"Paddy," You speak again, slowly this time, as if the very weight of his name on your tongue became a soft hymn. "Don't hide from me."

"M'not hiding," he attempted to argue, the words falling short as another sigh left his lips as you dragged your nails across his hips. He says your name again this time, half in warning, half in protest. "You're just playin' a very dangerous game here."

"So play with me then." Your voice sounded like warm honey, sweet despite the sinful desire that laced your words.

"Christ."

[sentbyjake]

SNEAKY INK [JAKE SIM]

pairing : jake x fem!reader

warnings : no sex scene, just oral (f + m receiving), strangers!smut, public!smut (kinda), jake is just a tad bit mean for one second but he means no harm

synopsis : getting a tattoo from a handsome hot stranger? sign you up.

author's note : four year old fic revamped, give it love <3

word count : 7.1k

hi, how can i help you?"

"i had taken an appointment? y/n y/l/n."

once the receptionist found your name on his laptop, he had you sit in room 3. "the guy's gone to refill his tattoo gun, he'll be back in a minute. you can relax in the room by that time."

you walked to the room and sat on the chair on the other end, looking at everything around you. photos of everyone with their tattoos were stuck around. everyone looksd quite happy with them. *so maybe this doesn't hurt as much right?*

there were ink bottles and all kinds of needles placed on a table beside you, a few rough sketches scattered, too.

"hey! y/n, right? i'm jake."

your eyes darted towards the door, the man standing over there wearing a simple black shirt tucked inside his jeans, a silver necklace dangling from his neck. he was holding a tattoo gun in his right hand and your eyes slightly widened at the sight, the sensation of the needles piercing already gnawing at you.

"don't worry. it won't hurt at all." he gave you a small smile and walked towards the bookshelf. "so, what kind of tattoo do you want?"

"i was hoping for a flower tattoo, but a really small one."

"and where are you planning to get it?"

your heart stopped for a moment before you muttered, "um, my inner thigh."

he turned around to look at you with slightly raised eyebrows before picking out a book that had various flower designs. "here, you can pick a design from any of these."

he handed you the book and went to the printing machine, turning it on and setting other things up.

you flipped through all the pages, finding all of the flowers too common and mundane and overdone. one design caught your eye and you looked at jake while pointing at it. "can i have this one?"

jake took a look at the design you were indicating and once again, gave you a “woah-dude-you-alright“ look before going back to work. "that's the flower of corriander. good choice. not a lot of people choose that one but it's actually very pretty."

you kept the book aside with the page open and had no idea what to do with your hands now.

once jake was done with whatever he was doing, he grabbed the book and let the printer scan the design.

"alright we're done with the scan, now all that is left is to sketch the tattoo on your leg and once that dries, we can finally get you a permanent inking."

his warm smile returned on his face and you smiled back at him. at that moment, when he bent down on his knees and looked at you, you could feel yourself starting to produce strings of arousal. he was literally eye level with your pussy and you had no idea what to do with this piece of fact.

"open your legs, darling."

and you instantly spread them apart, earning a small chuckle from the man in front of you. as soon as his warm fingers brushed across your thigh, you got goosebumps, and he noticed it but didn't choose to say anything, smirking to himself.

you noticed how he had really unique pink knuckles and how his fingers would very skillfully brush the sketching pen across your flesh. how his hands looked so delicate but his arms strong enough to crush a few bricks. you so wanted to just push his face on you and grind against his mouth, wanting to feel his fingers kneading your folds.

by this time, you were sure that you were emanating quite a strong pull from down there, but you didn't realize that jake could smell your arousal very clearly.

"do you know what corriander flowers represent?" he asked you, but you weren't focusing on what we he was saying. you were more focused on his plump lips and eyebrow slit. the way his eyes were laser focused on your thighs.

on hearing no response from your side, he continued, "they symbolize burning fire, passion, and lust." he looked at you for a second with deep dark eyes and then back at your thigh. the smell of you being turned on was literally shouting at him to keep everything down and pleasure you, touch you in places not everyone could.

his mind was swimming in all kinds of lewd thoughts, wanting to make you whimper against him, to hear the pretty little noises you could potentially make. but he had to remain professional and on his toes.

on second thought though, who the fuck cared?

jake lunged at you. holding you close to him by your waist. he was kneeling in between your legs, chest pressed flush against yours. he grazed your lower lip with his tongue, poking his fingers at your covered pussy, asking for permission. when you encouraged him to move on, he didn't hold back. ripping your shorts and panties off of you, he didn't take a second to even look at your dripping state, heading straight to business, immediately inserting his tongue inside you. his hands roamed above on your body, reaching out for your breasts, massaging and pressing them against his hands.

how the fuck was he good at this? and that too, at his first try on you?

as he rapidly flicked his tongue up and down you let out cries of pure pleasure, grabbing his hair and pushing his head deeper, almost depriving him of air.

he clicked his tongue and looked at you witha a sharp look. "did i tell you to touch me? did i tell you to mess my hair?" you shook your head in apology and rested back, signalling that you wouldn't interfere anymore.

he let go of you this time, chuckling at how readily obedient you were for a complete stranger, just for the sake of chasing your high. he went back to fondling with your thighs and nudging your clit with his nose while he gorgeously ate you out. when you came, your moans were too loud to be contained in the room. as he licked off all your release, wiping the excess cum from his chin, he got up and switched positions with you, so that now you were the one kneeling in front of him.

as you frantically took off his jeans and boxers, he put his hands under your shirt to caress your tits. you kept letting out small sounds and a loud one once you processed the sight of jake's long cock in front of you.

was this even going to fit?

but you didn't want to waste time in contemplating on the question, you collected his precum on your fingers and spread it all over his dick, eyes wide with fascination as if you were a toddler discovering paints for the first time. you hear jake snickerlightly and he put a strand of your hair behind your ear. "cute."

once you were done with prepping yourself, you moved your head down, taking his length till you couldn't anymore. he's thick for sure.

jake let out a long array of groaning and pushed you to continue.

moving your head up and down as fast as you could, you felt him gathering your hair in a pigtail, guiding your head. but he was a man of revenge. so he pushed your head further down, returning the favor of you choking him oh so nicely.

hearing you gag, his ego settled. he let go of instructing your head and sat back, letting you do your job.

"fuck, why are you so fucking good?"

hearing his indirect praises, you moved your head even faster, his increasing moans motivating you even more.

it was crazy, what was happening right now. you wanted to make sure that this man - this stranger - felt that you were good enough to make him dance in the clouds and that you were an expert in sucking dicks. and he did, once he came on your face, painting your cheeks, nose and lips with his cum.

he waited for a moment to admire your face, clearly proud of his creation before grabbing a tissue to clean everything off of you. once done, jake brought you up to him and sat you on his laps, hugging you from behind.

he kissed your nape, back of your jawline, ear lobe and tickled you with his nose, small sessions of chuckles following soon. checking the clock, the two of you finally finished what you had come here for, a tattoo.

you wouldn't say it didn't pain but, it didn't hurt as much as you had anticipated it to. plus jake helped you calm down everytime he inched to a sensitive region and just like that you were done with the tattoo in no time.

he walked with you to bid you goodbye till the shop's door and then headed back inside, confused as to why he felt a pit of disappointment when you left, wondering if you'd ever come back or not.

"hi, how can i help you?"

"i had booked an appointment? y/n y/l/n."

"your tattoo artist will be waiting for you in room number three, please wait while he refills his tattoo gun."

you smirked to yourself while walking to the familiar room, memories gushing in as you sat down on that one particular memorable chair.

the door opened and you looked up to see the same man who had made you see stars two weeks ago.

you got up from your chair and walked towards him, pushing him against the door while leaning in for a rough kiss.

looking at you, he smirked and closed the door behind him. "well hello there, miss."

"well hello there, mister."

[m3llowl0w]

Hi hi! This is my first time posting here on Tumblr... And I don't know what else to say. :D

But look, I decided to make my debut with a fanart (actually, a colored sketch) for @Lyrionor who is responsible for the ShadowVanilla (or PureShadow) Idol AU, which I'm a little obsessed with at the moment. Hehe..

(I apologize if there's anything wrong, English isn't my first language, so I used Google Translate because I'm not confident enough to type something without resorting to the translator T-T)

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Oi oi ! É a minha primeira vez postando aqui no Tumblr… E eu não sei mais o que dizer. :D

Mas olha, eu decidi fazer minha estreia com uma fanart (na verdade, um esboço colorido) para @Lyrionor que é responsavel pelo AU de Idol dos ShadowVanilla (or PureShadow), esse que eu estou um pouco obsecado no momento. Hehe..

(Me desculpe caso tenha algo escrito errado, inglês não é a minha primeira língua, então eu usei o google tradutor porque eu ainda não tenho confiança o suficiente para digitar algo sem recorrer ao tradutor T-T)

[linkons-most-wanted]

"My dragon is gone" is such a sad fucking line 😢

it's freaking BRUTAL.

And I'm gonna be a bit of a nerd here because the writers actually told us exactly why they're writing all these tragedies!

Love and Depression is explicitly on purpose.

Mini essay time!

The World Underneath Fractal Library story is about the library that Zayne oversees in his different incarnations, but it's also about storytelling in the game itself. It's a really cool meta-story, so if you haven't read it, I highly recommend it! They basically end up saying that all stories, whether they're in books or video games or movies or whatever, are equally valid and important. ☺️

Here's the most important bit, from Chapter 3, which is called Question 3:

The administrator character notes that "Happy stories are the same, but unhappy stories each have their own kind of unhappiness" which is actually a reference to this quote:

“All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way." --Leo Tolstoy, Anna Karenina (GoodReads)

They go on to say:

Once a story finds its perfect ending, it stops, and no one looks back. Imperfections, however, remain unforgettable. They echo without a response until the end of time.

It's the tragedy that makes the stories so memorable. That makes them really stick with you. But what's so clever is that we don't just get tragedy--we get tragedy juxtaposed with a current timeline where things are maybe actually going to be happy this time! But we don't have closure yet. Things are still unfolding.

That's why it hooks you so good! It's sort of the same thing behind Romeo and Juliette being such a memorable story for so long. It's been retold a thousand different ways. Including, on some level, in the Love and Deepspace stories!

Anyway, that's enough needing out to distract me from my emotions. I know the new Raf myth is going to destroy me but I just gotta bite the bullet soon 😩

[ameliaenya404]

More than a Spark

Pairing: Eddie x gn!reader [no explicit detailed mention of the reader's genitalia and gender neutral terms]

Lots of built up sexual tension because it's the best kind of tension

Wc: 1500+

Desperation.

Yearning.

Two things that look unbelievably perfect on every dateable in your home. Especially a certain brooding, dark-haired man down at the breaker box. It's undeniable how Eddie's no good for you, how he's a bit of an asshole who struggles with getting any emotion other that stoicism, which is really a lack of emotion, out when he's around anyone, much less you. But you can see it on his face when he doesn't think you notice.

His heavy-lidded gaze lingers on you as you nurse a drink at the bar, Volt sweet-talking you and Johnny Splash performing yet another charming but terrible a cappella on the stage. Eddie wants you. Badly. You can see it written all over his face, and the white knuckled grip he has on the drinking glasses whenever you tease him.

Volt is easier to read, easier to talk to and touch and Makeout with in the shitty dim lit backroom of the breaker box. Eddie not so much. You've yet to get your hands on his chest and your tongue on his but you have a feeling it might be tonight with the way the bar starts to clear out and he's still glancing your way as he wipes down the bar top.

"You heading home or what?" His gruff voice almost gives you full body shivers, it fills the empty air and demands your attention.

Glancing back at him and moving down a few barstools to sit in front of him, propping your elbows onto the counter he's trying to clean, you smile at him.

"Sounds like you want me to leave," You pout, not that you can pull any sympathy from the man in the state he's in, but maybe you could get something in other than a tired goodnight.

"There are a lot of things I want," his response is vague and casual but leading onto something more that makes your core feel weird. Good weird.

His voice never failed to stir up some feeling inside of you. More specifically the way he spoke. His tone. The words he used. Every sentence is crafted carefully to further uphold the closed-off vibe you got from him. Like he'd let on just enough to pique your curiosity and leave you wanting for more, it was begging to get on your nerves.

"Are you always-"

"Such an asshole?" He chuckles lowly before you can finish.

"Difficult. I was going to say difficult." You retort with a roll of your eyes.

"I'm not exactly sure what it is you want from me, Volt gives you plenty of attention."

"There are a lot of things I want," you repeat his vague statement, giving back the same energy he gave to you.

"Real smart, one of those things being?"

"You," it was time one of you came out and said it.

You were beginning to grow impatient and would rather get shut down than not take a chance at this. Plus talking to Reggie was enjoyable to you, at least there were some positives to getting rejected.

"You have Volt," he says, tossing the towel over his shoulder and giving you a look.

"Call me greedy but I want you too," you shrug, tracing little shapes onto the bar top with the tip of your finger, looking at him through your lashes.

"...I have a feeling I'll regret inviting you to the back," he groans. Which bassicly meant you were.

Months of chipping away at the man's patience led up to this moment and you were thrilled, though you tried not to show too much of it on your face. Only a fraction of it in the form of a slight smirk to mirror his own.

"I'll be good I promise," you giggle softly.

"Oh I'm sure you will," he grumbles, the back of his knuckles sliding against the underside of your jaw and across your cheek slowly before he turns around a begins walking, "You coming?"

You fight back the urge to say 'Oh I will be," instead opting to follow him to the back of the club. The minute you step foot in the back area your arms are around his neck, lips brushing eachother as a silent request.

Permission is granted when he presses his lips against yours. It's hungry and desperate and tense, everything you expected a kiss with him to be like. Behind all the pent-up frustration it's surprisingly gentle and considerate. His hands are on your back, sliding down to get a firm grip on your ass, something that prompts you to moan into the kiss.

Messy is the only way to describe the way your tongue slides against his as one hands find purchase in his hair and the other rests on his firm chest. You tilt your head to kiss him better, deeper. Your noses bump and teeth clash a bit but neither of you finds it in yourselves to react or make a deal out of it, too lost in the heart-racing sensation of each other's lips locked after months of built-up glances and sexually charged interactions.

Eventually, you have to part with him for the necessity that is oxygen. If you didn't need air you think you'd never willingly part from him. Forhead to forhead, his hands still gripping onto your ass, your hands still in his hair now dragging down to hold his face as you both pant. It's hot and stuffy in the backroom, a shitty torn up couch and box TV shoved in a corner to keep Volt and him entertained or something, Volt talked about it one time but you were too preoccupied with kissing on his neck to care.

The fantasy of having them both on and in you was never fleeting, but you had just gotten Eddie so you figured you'd still have to work up to the Volt and Eddie sandwich you so desperately wanted.

"I want to fuck you so bad, I need to fuck you so bad" Eddie groans. A sentence you've never thought you'd hear in your life time blessing your ears. You could have jumped up and down with joy if it wasn't mood-killing.

"I wanna fuck you too, so fucking bad Eddie you don't even know." You chuckle, kissing him again.

"Oh I think I know," he groans against your lips, lifting you up with ease and dropping you onto the couch.

For a torn-up god knows how old piece of furniture it provided some comfort, just about the bare minimum though. It was awkward to position yourselves on, you opted for having him take his pants off and sit down, and straddle him for a more efficient position. He slid his vest off and let out a groan the minute your hands touched his bare chest and your lips were kissing his neck and jaw.

You wondered if he could shock you. Maybe not, Volt was the real electricity and energy, Eddie was just the...wires? Well, you could get shocked by wires, yeah? Volts shocks stung enough so you weren't exactly willing to test your theory with Eddie. Instead trying to avoid his wires, similar to how you avoided touching Volt's wild hair. Though it was pretty to look at.

"You want this, live wire?" The endearing little nickname leaving his lips in his voice in that tone made you shiver. Nodding enthusiastically.

"I need to hear you say it," he chuckles, one hand gently holding your chin, his thumb rubbing gentle circles into your cheek as he forces you to meet his gaze.

"I want this," you practically whine. The sexy confident act falls a little, leaving behind the sight of someone who needs something really bad. Leaving behind the sight of pure desperation and desire. You could see some of it in his dark eyes too.

"You want what, live wire?"

The way he was looking at you was positively simple and it made you weak everywhere.

"I want you to fuck me Eddie, need it. So so bad. Need it so bad, please fuck me." You amped the pleading up, giving him everything he wanted and more, giving him a look of want, slightly biting your bottom lip, your brows furrowed a bit and your eyes sparkling with something sensual.

It felt erotic.

It was erotic.

It was no longer just sexy, passing glances. No longer a thought in your mind you entertained every night alone in bed. You were straddling him on his couch, your hands exploring his chest. It was sensual and erotic and almost perverted the way the two of you were looking at each other. Touching each other, as if you'd never touch each other again.

Which you very well might not. He could decide he wants nothing to do with you after tonight. But deep down part of you knew Eddie and how he wouldn't do that. Once he's deep in something, he stays. And soon he'd be deep into you, literally.

With your explicit permission he slides down your pants until they fall onto the floor, you in turn sliding down his boxers until they rest halfway down his thighs. He's a good size, the perfect girth to fill you up and leave you completely satisfied with no want for anything more other than him pounding into you.

You giggled softly as he groaned from your hands sliding down his chest, brushing against his happy trail and down to his cock. Stroking it a few times just to relish in the sounds he made in response before lining yourself up with his length.

The sounds you both let out as you sit down on him are sinful and filled with pleasure. Your head tilts back as you moan but his hand comes up to grab your chin bringing your face inches from his, his lips brushing softly against yours as you settle on his cock. Accustoming yourself to the stretch and the slight sting that melts right into ecstasy. Eddie kisses you with passion, pouring everything pent up into it as you got used to the feeling of his cock inside you. The gruff closed off asshole who worked at the Breaker Box now laid beneath you looking perfect and kissing you like he'd never get the chance to again.

"I'm gonna move now, kay'?" You mumble softly against his lips and he nods, with his permission you begin to slowly move up and down his cock before going just a bit faster once you get a sense of rhythm.

The sounds he makes are more than enough to let you know you're doing perfectly. Riding him is euphoric, a sensation unlike any other. The dimly lit stuffy backroom and broken-down couch creaking only add to the dirty real feeling of it all. It was messy, your wetness making your thighs slick as you went up and down on his cock. His cock felt perfect and snug inside of you, your hands resting on his broad shoulders, finger nails digging into them drawing a groan from his lips which you then kissed, swallowing the sounds he was making, your own sweetly blending with them.

You reach your peak, coming with a long satisfied moan, head thrown back a bit, his calloused hands gently rubbing your hips and working you through it. Right before, you can feel him about to come, slipping off of him and stroking his cock a few times until thick ropes of cum hit your and his stomach as he finishes with a satisfied moan.

You both sit there, sweaty and panting, trying to calm down.

"You know, I would've appreciated a little invitation to this show." Volt's voice startles both of you out of the trance you were in.

"I'll be sure to let you know next time then," Eddie chuckles, his hands resting warmly on your waist and everything seems to click into place as you all let out small laughs.