#(new tag for when I get little snippet asks)

[davrinsleftpectoral]

Surprise! Chapter 3 of Welcome to Nug E Cheese is here!

Read on AO3 HERE.

Thank you to @mythals-whore @genjyoandgojyoandhakkai and @blackwall-my-tiny-husband for letting your OCs come visit my little AU.

Also a snippet under the cut for this week’s Thursday Bangers. Thank you @woundedsoul12 @jenn2d2 @aetherflowers for the tags this week.

Rules for your Copy and Paste: Free form a blurb or drawing based on the weekly lyrics prompt. It doesn't have to include the prompt just whatever you're inspired to write, write it! Then tag some friends so they can play as well. It doesn't have to be finished on Thursday just post it whenever you can (you have a whole week between Thursdays).

All my friends we're glorious | Tonight we are victorious — Victorious by Panic! At The Disco

==

“Did you guys pick?” He asked them. 

“We’ve narrowed it down to Hightown Heist and DDI,” Harding replied. 

“Let the new guy choose,” suggested Taash. “It’s his first time playing either game, he should get to pick how he loses.”

Everyone turned to look at Lucanis. He waited a beat and then said stoically, “Hightown Heist.” His reply was met with various yesses and a few aws. 

“Okay!” Turvi rubbed his hands together. “We can only play in pairs. Best score wins. Lowest gets bathrooms. Winner gets to go home.” The others all nodded in agreement. 

Harding and Bellara went first, followed by Taash and Neve. During each match, everyone cheered and yelled, watching the game being played. Finally it was Lucanis and Turvi’s turn. Turvi turned to the other man and flashed him a smile and said, “Good luck!” Lucanis only raised his eyebrows in return. 

Turvi swiped his card for them both and they started playing. Each of them were aiming and firing at templars, attempting to make a getaway with a stolen shipment of lyrium. Turvi was laughing and having fun when he realized the game was announcing every time Lucanis got a bonus. Turvi usually just held down the trigger in these types of games, constantly spraying shots in an attempt to hit the most targets. Lucanis however was pulling the trigger for single shots. He was quickly aiming at target after target, taking out templars with one hit. Turvi stopped aiming his gun at all, in awe of Lucanis’ skill. The game continued announcing “Good shot! Double bonus!” over and over. Turvi watched open mouthed, shocked at Lucanis’ skill. 

The game ended and displayed their scores. Lucanis set a new high score for the machine. He entered his initials, nodded to the group, and left. 

Bellara looked up from her notebook and said, “Sorry Rook, you had the lowest score by a long shot.”

==

Definitely read the rest of this chapter. Some of these jokes are much better in context lol

Soft tagging in case you want to play or just want a notification that I put up a chapter @notyourmamasdeerbat @chaosherald @seaglassmelody @serensama @hedwigoprah @kabsey @cute-ellyna

[angelcakezz]

Gingerbrave sitting on a brooding DCs lap

DC on his balcony reviewing the choices he’s made in his life but there’s also a little guy who’s napping on him

[qwordavoider]

@brokenpiecesof Here is more of my 122 transfer fic 🚒 following the cliffhanger that ended here

-

“You’re leaving?! Of course, you’re still making it all about you. Grow up, Buck. I came back from Texas for the 118. You can stay too.”

Buck looks Eddie dead in the eye as he responds calmly despite his heart hammering on, “I’m sorry my grief is inconvenient for you, Eddie, but you moving back from Texas has no impact on me- my decision.”

Buck hesitates at the end of the sentence because he’s shocked at how true it feels. Yes, Eddie's return impacted him, mostly because he was being forced to find a new place to live. But outside of that? He didn’t feel any relief or joy at his best friend's return.

He didn’t feel much these days in general. There were brief moments where he felt something, like getting to see Chris again, ziplining between the buildings to escape the collapse, or meeting baby Bobby for the first time. But more often than not, he felt untethered yet heavy at the same time. 

But Buck couldn’t begin to explain that to everyone. He could barely understand it himself. And right now was not the time to try. Eddie was still yelling, and it was essentially a repeat of what he said that night in the kitchen. Thankfully, this time he said it without touching him.

He looked past Eddie to where Hen and Chim were watching everything unfold. Hen was alternating between frowning at Eddie and facing Buck with a look that could only be described as understanding. Chim just looked confused at Eddie’s outburst and unsure of how to handle the situation. 

He focuses long enough to catch the tail end of Eddie’s rant, “Fine, runaway. Shut us out just like you did when you sued the department. Turn your back on this family again.”

Buck scoffs at that, “Turn my back? I have been reaching out, trying to keep us together. To keep me together,” Buck hates the way his voice cracks, “But everything is still falling apart, so I’m done.”

He turns to head to the roof, needing to clear his head. He mutters as he walks away, “Some family,” and then a little louder, “Enjoy breakfast.”

-

Next part

Make me write

tagging other people who have also sent asks about this fic: @moonydanny @chococara25 @drdone @tyrusshipper12 I will still answer all of yours, I just didn't want you to miss out on this since I know the last snippet was a cliffhanger 😌

[shanastoryteller]

why isn't shanastoryteller's tumblr writing on ao3?

i've been asked this before, and i've gotten asked this a handful more times in just the past week, so

i'm going to link this post in my pinned post so it hopefully comes up a little less. i'm going to go through my answer in a detailed way that isn't necessarily all directed towards anyone who has asked some variation of this recently or ever, i'm just trying to be thorough to answer this for the (hopefully) last time

first there's the issue of formatting. there's pretty much no way to move what's at this point about 2,000 prompts over to ao3 in a way that isn't deeply annoying to myself, other users, and anyone who's subscribed to me. i'm not interested in making a new "chapter" for just a couple hundred words, i'm not going to tag 100 fandoms on one work, i don't want have to go to ao3 after every prompt cycle and copy and paste the prompts into the fic, whether that be as a new chapter or just editing a story to contain new material. the masterlist and updating the google doc already takes a decent amount of time and having to do this on ao3 would be both finnicky and time consuming and there's no way to set it up that i wouldn't find myself irritated with the prompts being on my profile period

however, most importantly, it just doesn't jive with how i use each of these websites

ao3 is an archive and dumping all my random prompts on there is an appropriate use for it. however. it's not how i personally prefer to use each site and just because something can go on ao3 does not mean i'm required to put it there

tumblr is my sketchbook and ao3 is my art gallery

the prompts and snippets and random crap i post here isn't thought out, don't necessarily have an overarching plot, or any real substance to them besides the scenes. they're fun, they're usually low effort, and they're things i work on without any real expectation that they'll spawn into a full, fully plotted story or at least not one i'm committed to writing out. i don't like having unfinished works on ao3 and i try really hard not to. if i'm posting something to ao3, that's me making a commitment to eventually (EVENTUALLY!!) completing it and having all my random, messy, incomplete prompts and scraps on there would 100% stress me out

like how sketches often become full pieces, it's not uncommon for a prompt series or random writing to turn into a full fic that gets fleshed out / expanded and put on ao3

The Great Puzzle, wing bones touching, Snakelet, Here Be Dragons, Become Tomorrow, shrine or scar, that is a door, Cartwheels in Cloud Recesses, Ghosts Shouldn't, Little Lion Boy, and Despite the Abundance all started on tumblr

but even in cases where i found a big chunk of the tumblr writings usable and worth keeping, it's not a matter of just copy and pasting it over and calling it a day. a full fic and and a series of random prompts or whatever scenes i've written on here isn't necessarily how i would choose to tell a longform story, so transporting them over always entails a fairly large amount of work on my end

in the case of the great puzzle, i used all that i'd written, it was just the commitment and plot to writing the story through. for wing bones touching, i'm using most of what's already been written, but there's a lot of connective tissue and build up to earn the payoff that i hadn't bothered to write when it was just a prompt series that now has to be put in

there are some series where this is easier than others. the azula and zuko series, for example, would have to be written almost entirely from scratch. it encompasses a huge amount of time and action and earns pretty much none of it - because the format means it doesn't have to.

living blood is one that i'm thinking will probably end up on ao3 at some point because i've written a lot of the connective tissue and build up into it already so it's not such a huge effort to polish it up

"but you don't have to polish it up!" i can hear you saying. "you can just post it as is!"

i said it above and i'll say it again: i could. but i don't want to

i'm saying this with all the kindness and appreciation for your interactions and your comments and your readership but: not everything is about you

i link all the previous prompts in the most recent one. i make a masterlist after every prompt cycle. i have every prompt linked out in the google doc

i'm not opposed to making things easier for your guys, and have spent a lot of time doing so, but i'm completely uninterested in moving my prompts and random writings over to ao3 for all the reasons laid out above, and being asked repeatedly isn't going to change my answer

if you think those reasons are stupid and inadequate and it makes you mad, the good news is this: you don't have to follow me and you don't have to read my work. you're completely and totally free to opt out of this experience

if you find navigating prompts as i have them laid out to be too cumbersome and difficult then, kindly, don't read them

i'm not a professional, a company, or a celebrity. this blog and my writing is neither a product nor a service

the point where prompts are more stressful and irritating than they are fun, the point where sharing scraps of my writing becomes something that turns into an obligation or a drag or too much work, is the point where i stop doing it

[crowttore]

Veritas Ratio x f!reader

Notes: Don't steal my writing. Practicing writing nsft.

Tags: Ratio x fem reader, inexperienced Ratio, size kink (mild?), established relationship, oral f receiving, fingering, premature ejaculation, 1.7k

Minors DNI

'Veritas Ratio is, undoubtedly, a well endowed man'

It wasn't unusual for you to catch snippets of gossip about your (relatively) new partner, his sharp eyes and chiseled features a frequent topic of admiration and desire. Even so, you couldn't help but feel a little odd at the thought of students milling about the university hallways and seemingly discussing what was tucked away in his pants like it was some sort of blessing.

If only they knew.

Once, you'd caught him discreetly palming himself while thinking you had yet to wake. There had been no hands shoved down the front of his pants, no desperate ruts of his hips, nor any loud noises. But for all his restraint, Veritas' cheeks had been flushed a deep crimson, the back of one hand pressed against lips you knew to be soft as velvet, while the other clumsily squeezed a bulge appearing far larger than it had any right to be.

You hesitated for a moment, hand hovering just short of knocking on the door to his office. This was a silly idea, Veritas was a grown man, he could go a day without lunch. As if that was the real reason for your visit and not just the excuse you told yourself. Somehow, the neatly packed lunchbox had grown several times heavier from just the addition of a single piece of photo paper.

No. Backing out now would be worse than anything he could say tonight. Surely, several of his students or even colleagues would've seen you loitering by now and ask Veritas about the reason for your visit.

The door to his neatly kept office swung open without a sound, swallowing the lump in your throat and barely resisting the urge to adjust a twisted lingerie strap beneath your shirt. There hadn't been time to change after taking and printing the picture (and the idea of flashing Veritas a small glimpse of a garter had been more than a little tempting).

"Just-" Ratio's words were cut off by a low groan, his grip on your thighs tightening to the point of being mildly painful. "-what were you thinking?"

The yield of his firm pectorals beneath your fingers combined with the equally firm tone of his voice only makes your heart beat faster, desire bubbling in every vein of your body. He looks like nothing short of sin incarnate, pupils blown wide, silky strands of hair clinging to his brow, throat bobbing, and the veins along his neck bulging. There's a small flutter in your heart when your hand threads through his tousled hair, pulling a pleased rumble from him.

"Didn't you like it?" You question as innocently as possible, pushing down the nagging fear that you'd gone too far. But if he was dissatisfied, why would he have picked you up from the couch and carried you off to the bedroom almost before he'd gotten the chance to take off his shoes?

A shiver runs down your back, rubbing your soaked folds along his still clothed bulge. No doubt the fabric was completely ruined by now.

His breathy chuckle sent another spark of electricity along your spine, "like it? Do you have even the faintest idea how grueling getting through the afternoon lectures were?"

Within seconds, he's flipped you both, eyes growing darker with every passing breath. You're keenly aware of how his tongue darts out to wet his lips, and despite knowing what's about to come, you can't help but feel just a little disappointed. There's nothing wrong with having your calves resting on his broad shoulders, nor the kisses and bites trailing down your thighs.

You tug a little at his hair, whining softly to make him pause just inches from your wet heat, warm puffs of air making your words come out just a little more hesitant than hoped. "Don't want to-"

"I do. With every fiber of my being," Veritas places a tentative kiss to your nipple before continuing, "but you-.. I need to make sure you're prepared. It would kill me to hurt you, especially for our first.." Despite how unyielding his intentions may be, there's a tremble to his words not usually present.

He huffed when you playfully squeezed your thighs together, relishing the softness of his clean shaven jaw. Your toes curled when two thick fingers breached your entrance, curling against your walls in a methodical movements.

Having spent at least half an hour already spread open in front of a mirror while Veritas toyed with you, whispering about all the thoughts that had festered while he'd been confined to teaching from directly behind the lectern lest anyone noticed his predicament, the two digits went in easily.

White-hot pleasure shot through you when his fingers scissored leisurely inside you, his ragged breathing loud enough to drown out the sound of your pounding heart. Veritas groaned, running a hand through his hair before leaning forward, effectively bending you in half to capture your lips.

It was a dance you knew well, parted lips and gentle bites soon turning bruising kisses that demanded nearly all your attention - removing focus from the third finger wriggling into your pussy and the burning stretch that accompanied it.

"Relax for me," he whispered against your lips, giving you a reprieve long enough to catch the hint of hesitation when he continued, "just a little more.."

But it was always 'just a little more' with Veritas.

Even with jolts of arousal flowing through your body at every nudge of his fingertips against a spot deep inside you, your attention kept flickering to how he'd begun chewing on his lip, cheeks a shade darker than usual.

Though he'd never voiced his complaint (something exceedingly rare from the man) it was impossible not to glimpse the insecurity that came with the generous size of his cock. Your fingers threaded through his hair, guiding his mouth to your neck and letting out a pleased sigh when he set to work nipping and sucking the sensitive skin there. You'd seen him naked several times, mostly distorted through bathwater or glimpses before a towel could be wrapped around his waist.

Once, you'd been seated between his legs while he read during a bath, feeling the heavy weight when it settled against your back. It had left you aching for days. But whenever you'd been kissing, touching, coming undone around his fingers, he'd always manage to keep himself covered, exhausting you to the brink of collapse before cradling you in his arms and whispering soft praises in your ear while you dozed off. Every time you'd been keenly aware of the wet patch on his underwear and the little ruts his flexed muscles were fighting back.

"You're overthinking it," you mumbled, back arching when the fingers inside you abruptly stopped for a second before picking back up.

Veritas merely brought your hand to his lips, kissing your fingertips in between breaths. "If you are coherent enough to make conjectures about the current topic of my thoughts, then it would appear I'm not performing as well as hoped."

While he was busy kissing your fingers while pumping his own in and out of your hole, it was easy to reach between your bodies, relishing the choked moan Veritas let out as you squeezed his hard member. It throbbed in your hand, making you clench down around his fingers as you rubbed slow circles at the wet patch.

"Off," you attempted to plead by snapping the elastic waistband against his smooth skin, almost tempted to laugh when he begrudgingly withdrew his fingers with a wet pop and rolled to the side.

Perhaps it was easier this way.

He raised a curious eyebrow when you clambered back atop him, golden eyes fluttering while you raked your nails down sculpted abs. His muscles jumped as you carded through the thick happy trail, smiling to yourself at the velvety feel, knowing full well just how well kept every inch of his body was. Within seconds of your fingers slipping beneath the fabric, Veritas' fingers had curled around your wrist, a desperate look in his eyes as he subtly angled his hips.

"We don't have to-"

"I want to," you reassured, sucking in a sharp breath as you touched his leaking tip. With an unceremonious tug of fabric, his aching member was freed, the sight of its fat tip making your breath catch in anticipation. Veritas whined your fingers danced along the sensitive skin, eyes glued to every vein you traced, only barely fighting back the urge to bury your face in the hairs at the base.

It was downright obscene, twitching with enough force that you could hear it smack against his abdomen. One hand wasn't enough to reach fully around it, making you both pant softly. The blood thrumming in your ears nearly drowned out Veritas choked 'slowly' while you ground down against him, just the thought of taking him had your stomach tied up in knots.

Even through your haze of greed, the stretch was nearly too much, every nerve alight with relief and your thighs trembling on either side of his body. Veritas' hands dug into your hips, stilling your descent onto his length despite the clear need to buck into you that was present in his dark gaze.

He shook his head, stuttering out several syllables that made no sense until he threw his head back against the pillow, a pitiful sound leaving his body shaking as warm ropes of his cum spilled into you. Only then did you properly stop to think, while you'd had plenty of preparation, Veritas had managed to dodge most attempts at preparing him, and this was his first time.

No wonder he'd have trouble containing himself even with just his tip snugly buried inside you.

Airy giggles bubbled in your chest as you collapsed onto a still panting Veritas, peppering his flushed cheeks in kisses while his length continued to twitch, eventually slipping from your entrance. There was plenty of time to go again and improve his stamina, but for now, you would enjoy the rapid beating of his heart and the utter lack of composure in his eyes.

HSR masterlist

[kit-williams]

Resending sfw fluf scenarios for writers block part 1. This one works as Husbandry or Reverse Husbandry.

The Night Lords look on in utter confusion as Konrad Cruze lets a tiny baseline girl child braid brightly collored paper flowers into his hair.

Alright

Husbandry Tags @egrets-not-regrets @liar-anubiass-blog @barn-anon @bleedingichorhearts @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

@ms--lobotomy @nekotaetae @sleepyfan-blog @felinisnoctis

Father had returned! It had been a month since the Primarch of the Eighth had vanished. All of the psykers of the legion had tried to figure out what happened even beseeching Magnus to help with it. Either the Primarch of the Thousand Sons succeeded or it simply returned to normal... perhaps the Emperor himself caught wind of it. But both Sheng and Sevetar knew something was different... wherever the Primarch had been sent had disturbed something inside of him far more so than the normally disturbed Primarch.

The changes were almost instant as the wretched state of his bedchambers was immediately changed. It was cleaned before he would enter it again. Curze was jumpy and hissing at anyone getting too close... not too different from anything not until the medicae were called to his chambers. Which revealed the small child that he had returned with, ill with everything and anything as unknown to his sons... her little immune system was unable to deal with all the wild new strains of illness but lucky for her... everyone was terrified to fail the Primarch for his request on "fixing her".

Sheng and Sevetar would overhear them speak to each other in a language unknown to either Night Lord though she would speak snippets of Gothic in a strange accent. It was Sevetar who finally had the nerve to ask one day as he entered his father's chambers, again they spoke in the strange language as she combed the long black hair, looking healthier than when he went missing, before starting to braid the strands and inserting paper flowers.

"How long were you actually gone." He said to the point in Nostroman as she looked at him unaware of what he said.

"Years." Curze sneered, "Perhaps Decades even."

"Who is she?"

"My ward... my charge... my bonded." The Primarch tried to find the right words to explain what he experienced. "An unloved thing waiting for someone to care about her." He remembers the lonely look in her eyes before stealing her from the Foster Center, wasn't really stealing... it was simply taking what was his.

"I was on what many thought to be ancient Terra." Curze says unprompted, "There were thousands of Astartes there... all from different times... night lords that have yet to meet me... and night lords made after I am long dead. Though that future is less than certain."

Sevetar's brow furrowed as his black eyes glanced over at the child who was still braiding with a smile as she was humming something. Curze had been interacting with his Legion more and properly all because of some child? Sevetar was skeptical and yet... all the things Curze had bemoaned about his legion he finally was taking an active role in his own legion and his own destiny... "Well what does the little princess need then?"

Konrad seemed to grin at that, hiding the malvolence in his smile before her tiny hug told him that she was done. "There we go Nacht! All done."

"Thank you little one." She was swallowed by his embrace.

"Nacht? Can I go out soon?"

"When you're better little one. I also need to make sure others know not to hurt you. When the medicae clears you and I get things in order."

"Okay. I can't wait to meet the other Night Lords!"

"Mhmm and I will make sure they all behave... or else." He whispers the final part in Nostroman as he carries her over to his bed before tucking her back in and watching her drift off again.

"There are many things that need to be done Sevetar." He skulked over to the Astarte and loomed over him, "I trust I will have your support?"

"Always my lord."

"Good."

[roguishcat]

Snippet Sunday

Thank you so much for tagging me @inkymoonbunny! Can't wait for the next chapter of 'Branded Blood'! 💖

I'm currently working on @the-lady-mienshao 's ask (Astarion finds one of fem! Reader’s books (romance about a human and vampire of course) and she’s terrified that he’ll think she’s with him to sate a vampire kink)

I'm very slow, but I do get things done!😊 (eventually), so this is going to be Part 2 of 'What books don't teach you' (18+ MNDI).

Shelves upon shelves of novels. The biggest and most impressive collection in all of Faerûn. You scoured Sharess' Caress, picked up copies during your travels, and traded with other enthusiasts. You collected the books with fervour others reserve for collecting priceless trinkets and hid these away from prying eyes in the basement of your house.

To say that Astarion was impressed would be an understatement.

"And how exactly are these arranged, my sweet? Knowing your penchant for keeping things in order, one might expect to find a system of sorts."

"Thematically, actually. Started out alphabetically, but then it got confusing once I got my hands on tomes in Elvish and other languages."

"Elvish, you say? I didn’t realise that you are a master of tongues."

"I'm not," you admitted readily, the innuendo going completely over your head. "But I love how beautiful they are. And I figured that wanting to read these might be motivation enough for me to learn."

Astarion hummed in appreciation and ran his fingers along the spines. The books were truly a work of art, fine leather and beautiful designs that winked playfully at you when you tilted your head even a little.

"Whilst this is very impressive, I don't understand why you were never tempted to try the real thing."

"Well," you cleared your throat and pretended that you were very busy going through the scrolls on the table, "maybe I was waiting for you. Waiting to be swept off my feet by a charming, dreamy elf."

"And I'm absolutely certain that I was worth the wait. But enough flowery words."

Astarion looked at you intently, making you fidget and drop a couple of scrolls. He didn't look away from your face. You being clumsy was not news to him. However, Astarion seemed to have great interest in your answer.

Although you confessed your feelings - not that it wasn't obvious to everyone who cared to look that you were completely in love with Astarion- actually talking about the said feelings was still difficult. But you didn't want to lie to him either. So, you chose to settle for something as close to the real reason as you were ready to tell him.

"I told you. I don't have that confidence that comes so easily to some. And I did try once, you know."

"Yes, with the man who was lacking in both skill and manners."

The look on Astarion's face became a touch softer. He put his cool hand on top yours, long digits strocking smooth, warm skin. The comforting gesture was sweet, his nearness welcome.

"Well, at the time I thought that I was the problem. And then I was lucky enough to have you teach me." You took a step towards him and tilted your head up. You very much wanted a kiss but did not know if now was the right time. In spite of you 'being well and truly taken', you still felt nervous about asking Astarion for affection.

Fortunately, he did not seem to notice you nervously chewing on your bottom lip as you tried to think of best way to put your wants into words.

"Oh? What's this?" Astarion moved past you and reached for a book. "Caught in the night?" He raised his eyebrows and then started reading the titles of all the books on that shelf. "Blood to remember? The Count's Courtesan? La petite mort? Darling, it seems that you've had a taste for creatures of the night before we met, hm?"

"Pardon?" You said dumbly.

"Well, my sweet. If I may be so bold, by my very rough estimation, you have at least thirty books with damsels of all shapes being kidnapped and devoured by vampires."

"Forty-two, actually."

"And that is why I feel it's safe to assume that you've got a type. Fangs? Crimson eyes? Eternal hunger that can only be sated in one way? And fortunately for yours truly, I just happen to fit that description."

No pressure tags💖 : @obsessedwhyyes, @rahuratna, @preciouslittlebhaalbae, @arzen9, @clazberryk, @khywren, @vixstarria, @hellethil, @nyx-knox, @pursuitseternal, @busy-baker, @deadly-diminuendo, @wilteddreamsofbaldursgate, @bloodinwine, @xxnashiraxx, @charmandabear, @anacdoce, @larvasmoon, @vividiana, @davenswitcher, @funniestbitchinfaerun, @verbenaa, @pinkberrytea, @dramatiquechipmunk, @nerdallwritey, @marlowethebard, @bardic-inspo, @forget-me-maybe, @whiskeyskin, @lanafofana, @fangbangerghoul, @rivereverie, @starlight-rogue, @bum-dragon, @alwaysmauria, @bhaal-battle-beer-bard, @dez78, @shandoratheexplorer, @ravenswritingroom

[dragonbarbie]

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 | Part 3

aegon x best friend!reader ; modern!au

summary: this fic is snippets of aegon and reader's relationship as they grow up and discover new feelings. but to let himself be loved, aegon has to first do some growing up.

rating: 18+, minors dni.

tags: alcohol, substance abuse, making out, finger fucking, handjob, praise kink, oh and soul-crushing angst :)

word count: 8.2k (i... dont even know what to say aegon makes me distracted)

previous part

series masterlist

A/N: things are finally getting spicey

lmk if you'd like to be added to the taglist!

divider credit @ cafekitsune! title of fic is from 'peter' by taylor swift.

Age 19

Sunspear wasn’t bad. In fact, Y/N loved it most days. The warm Dornish sun that kissed her skin every morning, the sea breeze that swept through the streets, and the vibrancy of the people made her feel alive. She’d made friends—good ones—and liked most of her classes. The city had charm, a warmth she didn’t expect, and a pace she could keep up with.

But somehow, since she’d moved here for college, everything felt a little hollow without Aegon. No matter how beautiful the sunsets were, how lively the city, or how many people surrounded her, there was a part of her that felt incomplete. Every holiday weekend, she looked forward to going back to King’s Landing just to hang out with him, only to be disappointed when he was off on some trip with his new friends, always busy with something or someone else.

Lately, though she’d found one distraction of her own: Qoren Martell. The kind, funny, downright hot boy she had been talking to for a while. At a party on campus one weekend, she had somehow ended up taking him back up to her dorm and hooking up with him. She didn’t know what she had expected his reaction to be the next morning, but when with a dashingly sunny smile he’d asked her for dinner, she couldn’t imagine turning him down. She was positively floating with excitement about the upcoming date, and there was no one else she wanted to gush about the new boy in her life to, than her best friend. The only problem was – Aegon had seemingly gone awol.

All day, Y/N’s phone sat on the table beside her, the screen flickering to life now and then with notifications. But none of them were from Aegon.

She tried to focus on her readings, flipping through textbooks, scribbling notes, and chatting with her friends between classes, but her mind kept wandering back to her phone. Each time it buzzed, her heart leapt with a flash of hope, only to come crashing down when it was just another random message or a social media update. No Aegon.

Her fingers hovered over his contact more times than she could count that day. She’d already sent him two texts in the morning: “Hey! Call me when you’re up :)” and “You alive?” Nothing. Hours passed, and she sent another, this time shorter, tinged with impatience: “You around?”

Still, no response.

She tried calling him, just to hear his voice, hoping he’d pick up. But after three rings, it went to voicemail, like it had so many times before. “It’s Aegon. Leave a message or don’t, whatever.” The tone of his message was casual, almost dismissive, but it felt like a punch to the gut. She hung up, biting back her frustration.

Why was he being like this? It wasn’t the first time he’d gone dark on her for days at a time, but it hadn’t always been this way. Before they had left for college, Aegon had been different — always around, always close. But now... It felt like he was slipping through her fingers, like the connection that had always felt unbreakable between them was fraying with every passing day.

Her texts and calls to him became more frequent as the day went on. “Where are you?” “Call me back.” “I need to talk to you.” Each one shorter, more pointed, as her frustration built up. It wasn’t like she was needy, or at least, that’s what she kept telling herself. It was just that today, she needed him. For once, she was the one with something important to share. Something that made her excited and nervous all at once. But Aegon was nowhere to be found.

Instead, she guessed, he was probably out with his new friends. Drinking. Partying. Having a great time without her. The thought twisted in her chest, leaving a sour taste in her mouth. She had seen the posts—pictures of him with a different crowd, new faces, girls, all of them smiling and laughing in places she’d never be invited to.

Aegon used to call her almost every night when they’d first gone to college. Even if it was just to chat, to vent, or to ask her what he should eat for dinner. But lately, those calls had become fewer and far between, replaced by half-hearted texts and vague replies. Sometimes he didn’t answer at all. He was always “busy,” or “with friends.” New friends. People she didn’t know, people he’d never mentioned before.

What was so important that he couldn’t even bother to text her back?

When she reached back to her dorm, Y/N threw her phone down on the bed, flopping beside it as her irritation simmered. She wanted to be angry at herself for caring so much. She had other things to focus on—classes, her friends here in Sunspear, the Martell boy who made her laugh. She was happy, or at least she should be. But Aegon’s silence gnawed at her, a constant reminder that something had shifted between them, and not in a good way.

She stared at the ceiling, her mind racing. It wasn’t like before when they’d talk for hours about nothing and everything when he made her feel like she was the only one who knew him. Now, it was like she was just another voice in the background, easily ignored.

The more she thought about it, the angrier she became. How could he just... Vanish like this? He knew how much they meant to each other—he had to know. And yet, here she was, alone in her room, clutching her phone like it was some lifeline, waiting for a message that might not even come.

The anger built up, flooding her veins with heat. For once, she had something to tell him, something important, and he couldn’t even bother to be there for her. And whenever he had something? Whenever he wanted to talk about his latest hobby, the new song he wrote or just whatever crazy thing the latest girl he had slept with had done after finding out he wanted nothing more to do with her – Y/N was there for him. Listening to him go on and on, on the phone, never once complaining or bored. This was how he repaid her? He was always unreachable now, off with people who seemed to be more interesting, more fun than she could ever be.

She stared at her phone again, jaw clenched, tapping her fingers against her thigh. Just one reply, she thought. One text and I’ll feel better.

But as the minutes ticked by, the screen stayed dark, and the weight of his absence grew heavier. Eventually, she got tired of staring at her lock screen and realised looking at the time that she should be getting dressed for her date, and put her ungrateful idiot of a best friend out of her mind.

Just as she gave up and stood up from her bed though, her phone rang. It was him.

For a split second, relief washed over her. Finally. But as soon as she answered, the irritation she’d been holding onto all day surged to the surface.

“Aegon, what the fuck? I’ve been trying to reach you all day” she snapped, pacing across her room. Her heart was pounding, both from anger and the desperation of needing to hear from him.

On the other end of the line, there was a moment of silence—long enough to make her pause, her breath catching. Then she heard it: the unmistakable sound of Aegon sobbing.

Her heart dropped.

“Aegon?” She whispered, her anger evaporating almost immediately. She could tell from the way he was struggling to breathe, from the hitch in his voice, that something was terribly wrong. “What’s going on?”

“They found out,” he choked out, his voice thick with tears. “My parents... They found out I’ve been missing assignments, failing classes. Everything. They’re so fucking pissed, Y/N. Mum said she won’t get them to pass me this time if I don’t come intern with grandfather this break. They—they threatened to take away my trust fund if I don’t pull it together.”

Y/N sank onto her bed, clutching the phone tighter, her anger dissolving into concern as she listened. Aegon was never like this. He was always so laid back, putting on the devil may care persona, always trying to stow away his vulnerability. But she knew, oh she always knew, the sensitive boy who hid underneath there. Hearing him this upset tugged at her heartstrings in a way that made her chest ache.

“I just... I don’t know what to do,” he continued, his voice raw, as though the words were being ripped out of him. “I hate it here. I’m fucking drowning in this place. It’s so dead, and fucking ancient and…and...” His breath hitched again. “It doesn’t even have you in it.”

Those words stopped her cold.

The burn of irritation she’d carried all day flickered out, replaced by a deep ache. She could almost see him, sitting somewhere alone, head in his hands, breaking apart at the seams. The Aegon who had been partying with new friends, drinking himself into oblivion, wasn’t here right now. This was the real Aegon—the broken boy who hated being left alone, who always needed to have someone hold him, keep him together. Someone, who was more often than not, her.

“Aegon... I’m so sorry.” Her voice was soft, barely above a whisper, “I didn’t know things were this bad.”

“It’s just... It’s all fucked up right now, and I can’t stand being here anymore. Everything’s falling apart. And I miss you. I fucking miss you so much.”

Y/N closed her eyes, her heart swelling with empathy. The way he said it—so vulnerable, so real—cut right through her. All the anger she’d built up over the day melted away. She couldn’t stay mad at him, not when he was hurting like this.

She wanted to say something, anything, to make it better. To tell him that it would be alright. But the words got caught in her throat. All she could do was sit there, holding onto the phone, her heart heavy with the weight of his pain.

She heard him sigh deeply on the other end, making her want to reach through the phone and pull him into a hug, to somehow make all of this disappear for him. But she couldn’t. She was hundreds of miles away, stuck in her own life.

When he’d finally gotten it all out of his system, the sobs quieted and his breathing evened out. It was like the storm had passed, leaving behind a hollow calm. “So, what did you wanna talk about?” He asked, his voice still rough, but lighter now, almost as if he’d forgotten his own sadness for a moment.

Y/N blinked, startled by the question. For a second, she’d forgotten, too. Then her eyes flicked down to her phone, and she saw the text notification from her date—“Leaving now, see you soon.”

She hesitated, staring at the message. It would’ve been so easy to tell Aegon the truth, to share the excitement she’d felt earlier. But now, after everything he’d just said, it felt wrong. Like rubbing salt in an open wound. She couldn’t just hang up and go about her night, no. Aegon needed her. And nothing, nothing, could ever come before Aegon for her.

She sighed and started typing out an excuse to Qoren, her fingers moving quickly as she lied into the phone without hesitation. “I was thinking about taking scuba lessons while I’m down here, thoughts?”

There was a pause, and then Aegon snorted. “And prayers. You don’t even know how to swim.”

“I do know how to swim!” She protested, rolling her eyes even though he couldn’t see it, smiling despite herself. “No, you don’t. You’ve always refused to swim with me in the pool back home. You just sit outside with a stupid book every summer.” “Because last time I did come in, you perved at me in my bikini,” she shot back, laughing.

“Oh right,” he said, his tone lighter now, teasing. She could almost hear the cocky grin in his voice. “That coral blue thing, right? Great memory. I can still recall it... Clinging to you in all the right places…”

“Aegon!” She shouted, laughing harder now as he started going into details.

“What? I’m just saying, it was a good look on you. A really, really good look.”

“God, you’re impossible,” she muttered, but there was no anger in her voice now, just warmth as she fell back onto her bed, the weight of the day lifting just a little.

Age 20

Y/N stepped off the taxi into the cool night air, her heart racing with anticipation as she took in the grand spires of Oldtown College.

The trip was almost impulsive. After two years of living in different states and months of practically all their communication being restricted to texting once a week, Y/N decided enough was enough. She had this long weekend free and she asked him what he thought about her coming to visit. He replied “HELLLZ YEA$” and “well get shitfacedd,” which she took as a yes.

She had spent the past few hours imagining his reaction when he saw her, thinking about how much she had missed him. This sudden visit was supposed to be special, a weekend just for them. She was not going to let anything ruin this.

She adjusted the strap of the bag on her shoulder and made her way through the sprawling campus. Everything looked so medieval and stunning, almost imposingly so at times; as if the history of this place was larger than life. She made a mental note to make Aegon properly show her around. But the directions Aegon had given her seemed to take her away from the scenic, old city and out to the outskirts.

She ended up at a large, slightly rundown house, clearly a fraternity. She hesitated at the entrance, the open door spilling the sound of music and laughter out into the night. There was a crowd out on the lawn, and from what she could hear, one inside the building too. She glanced down at her phone to recheck the address, pulling at the helm of the denim skirt she wore in nervousness as she looked around the crowd, but she was pretty sure if the smell of weed and alcohol was anything to go by this place was Aegon’s.

Taking a deep breath, she walked up the front porch steps and inside the house, stepping into a chaotic scene of students, red solo cups in hand, grinding to loud music she couldn’t make out the words to.

“Aegon?” She called out, her voice barely audible over the noise. The sea of unfamiliar faces made her nervous, and she started fidgeting with the strap of her carry-on as she anxiously scanned the place for familiar mop of platinum-blonde hair.

“There she is!” Y/N was startled as two arms suddenly wrapped around her from her side, but she relaxed immediately seeing their owner. “oh thank god, I was half scared you’d forgotten I was showing up today” she chuckled, as she shifted to hug him properly. “are you kidding? It’s all I’ve been talking about all week, ask any of the guys.” She felt an immediate sense of relief, once Aegon was with her, hugging him felt as familiar as her room back home. He smelled exactly as she remembered – the same almost sweet-smelling cologne he’d worn since he was 15, the one she had gifted him, mixed with a strong hint of weed and ash. His arms around her felt the same as they did two years ago too, pressing her impossibly close to his chest as if he couldn’t quite trust her to stay.

When she pulled back from him, he wore one of his lazy smiles, but there was something off in his eyes that made her frown slightly. She realised the bags underneath his eyes were darker and he was sweating all over. Okay, maybe it wasn’t all familiar. “you okay?” She searched his face, but he reflected nothing other than his usual impishness, though his eyes felt unusually blank to her. “you’re here I’m more than a-okay, I’m great. Now this party can finally start!” Looking around Y/N wondered if this was the party before it had even started then she didn’t want to stick around to watch it ‘begin.’

“let’s grab you a drink” Aegon took hold of her wrist and started to pull her into the party, but she grabbed she forearm with her free hand to stop him. “I’ve just been on one long train ride, then a taxi, I think I’d rather freshen up first. Can we go to my hotel? Were you able to book that cute, old B&B, the Tower Inn, I asked you to?”

He scratched the back of his neck, glancing at the ground as his grin faltered. “Oh, right… about that… I, uh, forgot.” He winced slightly, but before she could respond, he quickly added, “But it’s fine, you can stay here at the frat! We’ve got plenty of space.”

Y/N’s smile wavered. “Stay here? Aegon, I don’t know if that’s—”

“Hey, it’ll be fun!” Aegon interrupted, grabbing her shoulders with his grin back in full force. His eyes fell on the bag she was carrying and he took it off her, “and anyway you can’t leave, I’ve thrown this party in your honour, after all.” He walked a few steps into a hallway to his left, opening the first door, a door she hoped opened into his room and not some random person’s as he threw her bag in there, unceremoniously. “Plus, it’s just for a weekend. What’s the worst that could happen?”

There were in fact many answers she could think to that question, knowing Aegon. Before she could tell him that this wasn’t how she had imagined their weekend together though, he’d grabbed her hand and was already pulling her deeper into the crowd.

He thrust into her hand a solo cup which smelled so strong Y/N wanted to keep it at arm’s length. He then went about introducing her to his frat brothers and friends as enthusiastically as possible, but he wouldn’t let her linger with any one of them. He moved through the room with such easy confidence, Y/N was reminded of why all the girls back at school found his ways charming instead of irritating as she often did. Y/N didn’t have as easy a time at the party though. The room was a whirl of noise and energy, and as much as she tried to immerse herself in it, she couldn’t shake the feeling of being out of place.

After a while, Aegon started to get distracted, his attention repeatedly drifting away from Y/N. First, it was a group of his frat brothers who pulled him into a conversation about some upcoming trip. Then, he got roped into a drinking game, which somehow left him with his shirt off. Y/N tried to pull him aside, fitting him his shirt as she attempted to talk to him about how things had been going for her at college. He seemed to be simply nodding to what she was saying, as he patted his pockets to find something. When his pockets turned up empty, he made an excuse and rushed away to the bathroom. Y/N could only stand there blinking at the place which was previously occupied by him.

Upon his return, she observed there was an extra pep in his step, he seemed to be bursting with energy even more than usual. His words came out rushed, and his eyes were unfocused, even when he was talking to Y/N she had the distinct feeling he wasn’t really listening. It didn’t take long for her to figure out what exactly had changed from the last time she’d seen him.

She tried to stay close to him, but every time she turned around, he was off again, engaged in some new activity or laughing with another group of friends. Eventually, Y/N found herself sipping a suspicious soda she found in the fridge, forcing smiles whenever someone glanced her way, but inside, she was starting to feel more like a spectator than a guest of honour.

From where she stood on the sidelines, her eyes followed Aegon’s figure around the room, the feeling that this weekend might have been a mistake now sinking in. All she’d wanted was for it to be like old times for just one weekend, just the two of them hanging around like they did back in school. She was starting to realise that maybe Aegon wasn’t the same person he was back in school anymore.

Aegon, now deep into his drinks, seemed completely at ease, blending into the chaos around him. But every time Y/N caught his eye, he would flash her a quick smile, as if that would somehow make up for his absence. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do, other than stand all alone by the edge of the room, feeling increasingly invisible.

She was lost in her thoughts when a tall guy with a sleazy smirk approached her. He was holding a half-empty beer and leaned in too close for comfort. “Hey there,” he said smoothly, a little too smoothly, his eyes roving over her in a way that made her skin crawl. “You look like you could use some company.”

Y/N stiffened, glancing around the room for Aegon, but he was nowhere in sight. “I’m fine, thanks,” she replied, trying to keep her voice steady and polite, but the guy didn’t take the hint. He stepped closer, his grin widening as he reached out to touch her arm.

“Come on, don’t be like that,” he coaxed, his tone dripping with false charm. “Let me get you a real drink. You’re too pretty to be standing here all by yourself.”

Before she could respond, she felt a familiar arm sling around her shoulders, pulling her close in a protective, yet slightly possessive, gesture. “ah! there you are Y/N, I see you’ve found our resident creep Walder” Aegon’s voice cut through the tension, slurred and slightly rough, but still carrying enough authority.

The guy’s eyes widened in recognition, his cocky demeanour instantly replaced with a more cautious one. “Oh, sorry, Egg,” he stammered, raising his hands in a mock surrender. “Didn’t know she was your girl.”

Aegon didn’t bother to correct him, his grip on Y/N’s shoulder tightening for a moment. Only when the other guy quickly slinked away into the crowd, did Aegon let his arm drop to his side, leaving Y/N standing there with a mixture of relief and irritation inside her.

She turned to Aegon, shrugging off the lingering sensation of his arm around her. “What was that about?” She demanded, her voice sharp, though she was trying to keep her emotions in check.

Aegon just shrugged, as he raised his beer to his lips. “he’s a dick,” he muttered before taking a long swig, his eyes already drifting back to the party as if nothing had happened.

Y/N’s frustration flared. “after freezing me out for most of the night you can’t just show up and act like some kind of knight in shining armour.”

Aegon rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed by her reaction. “he’s an ass, I just stepped in to handle it. Stop making a big deal out of nothing.”

“That’s the problem, Aegon!” She snapped, her voice rising with her anger. “You act like everything is just... Whatever. Like nothing matters! You didn’t even correct him when he assumed I was just... Just some girl with you for the night.”

“So what?” Aegon shot back, his irritation now matching hers. “What difference does it make? What does it matter what he thinks?”

“It matters to me!” Y/N shouted, her voice filled with the intensity of her emotions. “I came all this way to see you, and all you’ve done is ignore me and get drunk. Do you even care that I’m here?” “I don’t need this right now.” He muttered, looking around the room again as if searching for an escape.

Y/N felt a lump rise in her throat, the hurt overwhelming her. “oh, I’m sorry am I killing your buzz? Fine then,” she said, her voice trembling with barely contained tears. “I’m out of here.”

Without waiting for his response, she turned on her heel and stormed out of the room, her vision blurred by the tears she was desperately trying to hold back. She pushed her way through the crowd, ignoring the curious glances thrown her way, and made her way upstairs, locking herself in the first room she saw which turned out to be the bathroom.

She leaned against the door as she finally let the tears spill freely, sobs escaping her throat. She slid down to the floor, her head in her hands, the weight of the night crashing down on her. This wasn’t how she had imagined their reunion, not at all. It was supposed to be special, but instead, it was turning into a nightmare.

A few minutes passed before she heard a knock on the door. “Y/N?” Aegon’s voice was hesitant, still slurred but tinged with a mix of frustration and concern. “Come on, open up. I know you’re in there. Why are you being like this?”

She didn’t respond, trying to stifle her sobs lest he hear them. But the knocking persisted, followed by the sound of him leaning against the door. “Y/N, seriously, just let me in,” he mumbled, his tone softening slightly.

For a second he sounded so sincere, so much like her best friend, that she could almost forget that he was the reason she was crying on the bathroom floor in the first place.

She hesitated, but then stood and unlocked the door, opening it just enough to see him standing there. His usual confident demeanour had slipped slightly, replaced with a defeated look of annoyance as he leaned against the doorframe. “Why are you being such a Debbie downer?” He whined, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

“I came all this way to see you and you’ve…” she repeated, her voice cracking as she wiped away the tears. She knew who her best friend was, she knew he had never been the guy to stick by her side all night, to ignore the world when she was around, to make her feel like she was the only person in the world he cared about. But the display of the night had set a new low bar, even for him.

“You always do this,” he muttered, his words slurring slightly as he swayed on his feet, his voice filled with annoyance. “You show up, and suddenly I’m supposed to drop everything, like nothing else matters. Well, I can’t! It’s a party, and I’m not going to babysit you all night.” He sounded so thoughtless and inconsiderate, his face looked so exhausted by the idea of having to be around her.

Her heart twisted at his words, enough anger to make her want to throw something at him flared up inside her and mixed with the sadness of being like a burden to him. “oh well, forgive me for thinking my best friend of ten fucking years would prioritise seeing me for one stupid weekend over attending one of his hundred parties” he looked positively offended at her words and shot, “I threw this one for you!” “Well, I didn’t ask for this!” She snapped back, her voice rising. “I just wanted to spend time with you, Aegon.” Though rage filled her, she should couldn’t help how her tone softened, when she added, “Is that so hard?”

He let out a sharp, exasperated breath, his eyes narrowing, though she could tell he was having a hard time focusing. She was now close enough in that suffocating bathroom to see the beads of sweat on his forehead and neck. His breathing seemed more rapid, she was sure she could hear his heartbeat if she honed in on the sound. This wasn’t the effect of just weed and alcohol, she knew how he reacted to those.

He rubbed his face with his fingers, before dragging them through his hair making them appear even more unruly. “It’s not about it being hard, Y/N. It’s just... Things get complicated with you. You come in with these expectations, and I’m just… I don’t know how to be what you want!” His frustration was clear, but she couldn’t understand what the hell he was so frustrated about.

“What expectations?” Y/N’s voice was incredulous, and confused at his words. Aegon opened his mouth to start to say something to her in response but then stopped midway. He turned around, his back now facing her as he rubbed his eyes, as if talking to her now was a strain on them.

Her anger bubbled over once again, “I just wanted you to act like you cared! Like maybe I wasn’t just some afterthought to you. But how can you even do that when you’re high out of your mind on coke.”

Aegon suddenly turned back to her at the accusation, looking defensive but taken aback. “Don’t start with that,” he shot back as he took a step towards her, his voice sharp despite the slurring. “I’m fine, Y/N. You don’t need to come in here and act like you know what’s best for me.”

“Fine? You call this fine?” Y/N’s voice cracked with a mix of anger and concern. She took a step towards him and grabbed his soaking wet t-shirt, “You’re sweating like this in a fully air-conditioned house, you keep going to the bathroom every five seconds like you ate some bad curry and your eyes are so unfocused you’ve barely looked at me this entire time.” Aegon in response looked less like an addict apprehended and more like a kid caught stealing from the cookie jar. He looked sheepish almost, his eyes looking away from her, but she caught some shame behind them. Were it anyone else giving him this lecture he would have laughed in their face, but the fact that it was her, it seemed to break through his confident façade.

Her gaze momentarily dropped from his eyes to his lips and she let out a dry, humourless laugh as she saw leftover vestiges of some white powder on his upper lip. She reached out with one hand to brush it aside, sighing sadly “I’m guessing this isn’t sugar.” She had a sudden realisation then how intimate the moment had become, they were standing only inches apart, with one of her hands still grabbing his shirt, the other cupping his face. He looked back at her with a vulnerability that left her feeling like her cheeks were on fire. He didn’t ask her for space, but she suddenly felt like she needed to be miles away from him.

“you know what, you’re right.” She let go of him and cleared her throat as she took a step back. “actually you don’t even need to be in here with me, I’m clearly keeping you from this rager of a party and probably some grade-a-quality coke.” The smell of sweat and smoke mixed in with whiskey and expensive cologne, the smell of Aegon, was getting too much for her when she stood this close to him. She tried to take a few more steps away, as much as the small place would allow when he suddenly grabbed her wrist and pulled her back.

“You don’t get to judge me. You think I don’t care? You think I don’t want to be with you?” She blinked back at his almost pitiful expression, eyes that seemed like they were seconds away from spilling tears. For a second she thought the emphasis with which he said the phrase ‘be with you’ he might not mean just the party, but she couldn’t be sure and the moment fleeted as he went on, “I’m doing my best, but I’m not going to change who I am just because you want something different!” his words spilling out faster than his brain could process them, his frustration mingling with the fog of intoxication.

“I’m not asking you to change who you are!” Y/N shot back, her voice rising in intensity. “I’m asking you to stop pretending like everything’s cool. You keep pushing me away, and then you act like it’s my fault.”

“Maybe it is your fault!” He accused with his voice rising enough to make Y/N flinch and take a step back, but he didn’t let go of her wrist and instead walked closer to her, backing them up till she was against the wall, trapped by him. “because this is what you do. You look at me with those big-big eyes, expecting me to be someone different, someone good, someone more like you. But I’m not you. And I can’t be.” He sounded so resigned, as if this was always how it was going to be, how he was going to be. And the fact that she wanted something better for him was nothing more than a distant, impossible dream. She noticed the tears welling in his eyes were now escaping and she had to do everything in her power to remain mad at him and not wipe them away. Though his tone was one of anger, his expression looked as if this pained him, as if he was cursed and she wasn’t understanding how doomed he was. “I can’t be who you need me to be. And maybe if you didn’t come in here expecting that, expecting everything to be perfect, we wouldn’t be having this fight!”

She scoffed at his words, “Perfect? I of all people would never expect perfect from you Aegon. And I’ve never said you need to be so. All I’ve ever wanted is for you to give a damn! About me, about yourself—about anything!”

They were close now, the space between them almost non-existent, their breaths coming fast and harsh. Aegon still held onto her wrist tight enough to hurt her, but she stared up at him almost defiantly. The air crackled with unresolved tension, the anger between them sparking like a live wire.

Aegon swayed slightly, his hands trembling as he struggled to keep his balance, his whole body tense with frustration. “You think I don’t give a damn?” He growled, his voice low and dangerous, though the slur was still there. “You think I don’t care?”

Before she could respond, Aegon pulled her toward him by the wrist he had been holding capture, with a force that was more clumsy than intentional. His lips crashed against hers in a kiss that was fierce and unyielding, all the pent-up anger and frustration pouring out in that single, desperate moment. It was a collision, an explosion of everything they hadn’t been able to say, their argument turning into something else entirely.

Y/N responded instinctively, her free hand gripping the front of his shirt as if to hold on, the intensity of the kiss taking her by surprise. The anger that had fuelled their fight was still there, but it was being channelled into something raw and primal, a release of all the emotions they had been bottling up. Aegon’s movements were uncoordinated, the kiss messy and driven by the haze of alcohol and drugs, but it was full of the desperate need to connect, to keep her so close to him that she could not leave. His tongue wasted no time in pushing past her lips, with little to no defence being put up by Y/N. As his tongue massaged hers, he finally let go of her wrist and instead reached to put his hands under her shirt, touching the soft skin of her bare lower back. Her own hands reached for his hair, fisting the pale blonde strands for dear life.

He broke the kiss only to travel to the side of her neck, making Y/N gasp with the ferocity with which he attached himself there. She felt the euphoric feeling of his soft lips against her sensitive skin interchange with him cutting at it with his teeth every once in a while, the whiplash of pleasure and pain making her moan. His hand then travelled to her legs, pulling them apart slightly by hooking his hand under her knee, before it trailed up her thigh, and then stopped.

He lifted his head from the crook of her neck, his expression hooded with lust. At him pulling back she became nervous momentarily and searched for any sign of hesitation or regret in him, but was relieved when she found none. All he said was, “Do you want me to stop?” The feeling of his thumb brushing up against her clothed core as his hand grabbed the flesh of her inner thigh, was so tantalising, so inviting, that she could barely get words out, instead just quickly shaking her head. That was all the confirmation he needed, as he caught her breath in his mouth once again closing the very little gap between them.

He had settled in between her thighs, and Y/N couldn’t help but buck her hips against his, with a desperate need to have him pressing against her. Aegon seemingly shared that need as he rubbed against her by pulled her parted thighs closer to his body which made her denim skirt ride up even higher, his lips never leaving hers to so much as breathe.

He shifted his hand to fully place it between her legs and the sudden manner in which he moved her panties aside, letting the air hit her exposed pussy made Y/N gasp into the kiss. Aegon’s finger were quickly rubbing at her button, making her yelp and break the kiss. “Aegon…” she threw her head back against the tilled wall of the bathroom at the feeling of him pressing down against her sensitive spot, his hand moving with vigour and impatience. He then moved his index finger from her clit to push through her folds, his thumb replacing it at the top. His finger curled up inside her in the most delicious way, his thumb never ceasing from massaging her nub. “look at you, dripping with just one finger.” Y/N might have felt more embarrassed by the overenthusiastic response her body had to Aegon, if her mind had the ability to focus on anything other than the feeling in her stomach that just wanted to be pushed further, to reach some conclusion. He seemed dissatisfied with her lack of a response, and pushed another finger in her without warning, making her grab his shoulder and hiss in pleasure.

“Tell me do you like this, like being finger-fucked in the bathroom like a dirty slut?” He cooed in her ear, “yes” she rasped out as her body squirmed from the stimulation. His fingers were working at a rapid speed, pounding into her cunt. Her juices had made the job easier for him, the sick sound of his fingers sliding in and out of her with ease was putting her over the edge. “and how does it feel, to be the dirty little whore getting taken in some fucking party?” Her chest was rising and falling with her quick shallow breaths, to the point that she barely registered his words, but she noticed when he suddenly stopped moving his fingers, holding still inside her. “I asked you how does it feel?” She whined in response, as she opened her eyes to look at him which allowed her to finally see his expression.

She didn’t know what she had expected Aegon to look like, but looking this… delicate, had certainly not been what she would have imagined. He looked almost expectant as if he needed her to tell him how good she felt, how good he was making her feel, how good he was. She reached out and cupped his face, replying with sincerity “Amazing.” The way his face lit up hearing that, she could have watched him forever. His fingers slowly began to start their movement again, “and who’s making you feel this way?” “you, you, you….only you.” She croaked out as she tried to rub herself against his fingers to increase the pace. Her hand reached out covering his hand with her own, trying to push his fingers deeper inside her in desperation which made him grin cockily. “such a needy little slut… all for me.” She could only whimper in response.

It seemed he had gotten his satisfactory answer, because he restarted his previous pace, making her bite down on her lip to silence her moans as she neared her end. “c’mon let me hear your pretty little cries, let me hear you scream” he goaded her as his assault on her folds reached its zenith and she came with a cry of his name.

She felt empty as he pulled his fingers out of her, only to push them against her lips in a silent command, which she readily obeyed. She parted her lips and licked his fingers clean, as he watched with bated breath, “such a good girl” he murmured.

As she finished she noticed the bulge he was now supporting, aroused from all the activity. “my turn” she panted. With unsteady hands she felt his length over the jeans, unbuttoning them and pushing them down with his underwear to reveal just how ready he was for her, precum leaking off his tip. Her eyes looked up at him for silent approval, as she wrapped her small hand around him. He merely reached out and placed one of her out-of-place hair strands behind her ear, looking on not only in anticipation but also in simple adoration of her. It made her heart beat faster, if that was even possible, as she started to tug at his length.

She felt nervous as she started, but the constant string of praise Aegon was whispering in her ear kept her going. She loved the reaction she could elicit from him, it gave her a high not unlike the one she got when he was pumping his fingers in and out of her. She watched as his face twisted in pleasure, as he had to place a hand on the wall behind her to keep himself upright, as he bit down on his lip with a soft sigh of “fuck.” She’d known him forever and yet, she couldn’t recall a moment that he looked more beautiful than he did in that moment – standing between her legs, her hand reached out to the space between them, squeezing his hard shaft. As he realised he was near completion, he harshly grabbed a hold of her waist and pressed her back to him in a rough kiss, making him come right there on her inner thigh.

He rested his forehead against hers, as they simply stilled for a moment. She could hear the music floating from the party raging outside the bathroom, which almost brought her back to reality. She wanted to say so many things to Aegon, wanted to discuss what this even meant, but she felt this dream was far too beautiful to be so rudely awoken from just yet. From the lack of words from Aegon, she guessed they were on the same page about this.

She glanced down as she felt him harden already against her soft thigh, and glanced back up at him. His expression remained glazed over, as he hummed in content against her skin. “you have no idea how badly I want to fuck you right now,” her mouth went dry at his admission. “what’s stopping you?” She boldly replied, a determination in her eyes.

“yeah?” A smile broke across his lips at her encouragement, “you want this?” “I want you.” She confirmed as she reached out and kissed him. He sucked her bottom lip into his mouth, his hand grabbing her breast through her shirt as he did. He then abruptly turned her around by the waist so she was facing the wall, taking her hands and placing them on either side of her for balance. She could feel him lift up her skirt and slowly drag her panties down her legs, till they were off of her, seeing him place them in his jeans’ back pocket out of the corner of her eye.

He lined up against her and she was waiting in anticipation for when he would fill her, when a knock on the door interrupted the moment suddenly. “Aegon?” In carried the voice of a girl attempting to shout through the door, “Walder said he saw you go in here. How long are you going to be, babe?”

Aegon cursed under his breath, rolling his eyes at the interruption and turning toward the door. “Be there in a minute!”

Without missing a beat, he turned back to her, trying to resume where they left off, hands slipping around her waist. “Looks like it’ll have to be a quickie.”

But the tension between them was starting to dissipate, replaced by a sinking feeling in Y/N’s chest. “‘Babe’?” She echoed softly, the realisation hitting her as she slowly asked, “Do you have a girlfriend?” Aegon rubbed his eyes as if the question was an irritating inconvenience. “Define girlfriend.”

“Oh my gods.” Reality came crashing down on her, as she turned around and shoved past him to put distance between them. She grabbed some tissues and started to clean up the mix of his and her own fluids running down her thighs, angry beyond belief and hurt beyond repair. She pulled her skirt down, and got ready to leave.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Aegon asked, bewildered, trying to reach for her again, but she stepped back, avoiding his touch. “just stay the fuck away from me!” She shouted at him. His expression looked confused, which made her even more angry. How could he possibly not get what a big fuck up this was on his part?

Y/N’s voice trembled, but the words spilt out like a dam breaking. “All this time we’ve been friends, I used to be so arrogant about how close we are. How I wasn’t like all the others. That I wasn’t just ‘one of your girls.’” Her chest heaved as she fought to keep her voice steady. “But you’ve proven me wrong, Aegon. You’ve proven that all you’ve ever thought of me is as just one more pretty thing to fuck.”

Aegon blinked, clearly taken aback, the weight of her words hanging heavy in the air between them. “Y/N, wait—”

But she was already turning away, her throat tight with unshed tears. The bathroom felt suffocating, the walls closing in on her, and she needed to escape, to get away from the mess she’d walked into.

She pushed the door open, the pounding bass of the party hitting her like a wave as she slipped out into the crowd. She ran to the room where she remembered Aegon throwing her things and grabbed her bag as she made her exit from the frat house.

Outside, the cool night air slapped her in the face, and the cold made her glad to have another sensation to focus on that wasn’t the hurt inside her chest. She stumbled down the steps, her vision blurred, as she started almost jogging on the pathway leading her away. She just wanted to put this place behind her, wanted to get as far away from Aegon as her feet could take her. Lost in her own thoughts she barely noticed the familiar voice calling out to her from a car that had stopped next to her on the road.

She turned around to see a boy with his overgrown curly hair at the wheel, the window of his car pulled down as he looked on with concern. She hadn’t seen him in a year or so but his identity was unmistakable to her, “Jace?” She vaguely remembers Aegon telling her with much annoyance that his nephew had joined him at Oldtown this term.

“You alright?” He looked at her with sympathetic eyes and she had the distinct feeling that he knew the reason for her distress had to be his uncle. Y/N wiped hastily at her eyes, trying to pull herself together. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she lied, her voice barely a whisper. “just need to find a place to stay for tonight.”

“Hop in, let me give you a lift to a decent inn.” He kindly offered, a small, inviting smile on his face. She hesitated, her pride warring with the crushing need for comfort. She looked around and realised she didn’t have many options anyway. With a quiet nod, she accepted Jace’s offer and got in.

The car door clicked shut behind her as she sank into the seat “Thank you,” she softly muttered. He simply shrugged, “It’s no big deal. There’s this amazing place called the Tower Inn, just around the corner. It’s usually got room this time of year.” She couldn’t help but chuckle humourlessly at the mention of the place she had originally planned to be at, if all had gone to plan “Sounds good.”

[macabr3-barbi3]

Pillow Talk- Vox x Reader

(Banner made by my love, @fraugwinska 💛❤️💛)

A Vee Tower maid, you get an eyeful- and more- when stuck hiding in Vox's closet after Alastor comes back to town.

Tags: the Alastor body pillow; Dry Humping? I think that's what it would be; Accidental Voyeurism; Cunnilingus; One-Sided Alastor/Vox; Vaginal Sex; improper use of electricity lol; maid outfit; a tiny bit of hypnosis but not regarding the sex

[this is almost a crack fic honestly I laughed way too much writing it xD this was inspired by a few pieces of art- as soon as I can find the artists I'll link them below!]

So technically, you weren’t supposed to be here. The entire cleaning crew knew that the main apartments of the Vees were off limits unless they specifically asked for them to be serviced- you, specifically, would not be a welcome sight, especially by the CEO.

But when Vox had spotted you outside his office he had barely spared you a enough of a glance to get his hypnotic eye swirling before he had very explicitly stated, “I want every single thing in here put back where it belongs,” and apparently, to your will-bent limbs that meant even the fucking throw pillow on the couch needed to be returned to his home.

The blue striped fabric clutched in your arms, cleaning supplies left in one of the numerous cleaning closets, your feet took you to the elevator, pressing the button for the elevator to take you up to the penthouse. You were sweating a bit in your uniform- despite how little fabric the damn thing had (courtesy of Valentino deciding “if we have to fuckin’ look at them they might as well be hot” when hiring a cleaning crew, apparently) you were still nervous about going against established orders for implied ones. If Vox found out you had been in his section of the penthouse, in his room, Satan only knew what he would do to you.

That shouldn’t have excited you a little as you thought it, but it does- your breath comes a little quicker as you had entered the key code to Vox’s sector of the penthouse floor, thankfully empty as you enter and where you now stand. The television is playing something from the news, Vox sat at his desk with some sharp toothed red deer demon in the frame with him, mouth turned down into a frown and spewing vitriol- you caught some snippets of speech from the low volume, something about him being a fossil, outdated, et cetera. It wasn’t surprising- Vox and all of the Vees were all about innovation, updates, upgrades. If this guy was into older tech it made sense that he would take personal offense to that.

When you try to toss the cushion onto the couch your arm freeze, unwilling to release the fabric- which meant it wasn’t a couch pillow but a bedroom one, and your feet turn to take you in that direction. The door opens without a lock, and the room that greets you is a little neater than you would expect from the CEO of the company, being as prone to outbursts that the staff had to clean up as he was. The bed was made up, and finally your compelled brain allows you to throw the pillow out of your grasp to bounce harmlessly on the bed. Order satisfied, you’re about to turn to leave when the lights snap out with an audible click.

You freeze in the darkness, worried somehow that you’ve been caught, but they flicker on mere moments later. Another tentative step towards the door, and that’s when you hear it- a crackle of electricity from the living room, not unlike an arc flash, one that you’ve heard enough times working in this building to know what it means.

Vox is back.

In hindsight, it was fucking stupid. You probably had better luck explaining yourself, telling him that his command earlier had forced you up here against your better judgment because of course, Vox, sir, you knew that the penthouses were off limits. But your prey brain reverted to instinct, doe ears dropping against your head, and you bolted to the nearest safety- the closet. 

You can hear him coming closer, his voice increasing in volume- “that ancient fucker, thinks he can just come back to my fucking town, in my fucking section like he never- fucking dammit, Bambi, I can’t believe-” He just keeps going and you shuffle further back into the clothing around you, the smell of his soft cologne enveloping you as you descend. You can see light peeking through the slats of the doors, and it vanishes as he quickly approaches. The door flies open and you squeeze your eyes shut, waiting for a sharp clawed hand to land on your arm and haul you out but it never comes.

He grabs something close to you, something soft you had been inadvertently leaning against, and slams the closet door closed again so hard that it swings back open, another crack that light leaks through. Despite your better judgment you lean forward, peek through the slats of the door at what is happening in the room. He throws the item he had grabbed against the bed, and it bounces at an angle so that you can see what it is.

A body pillow- with that guy from the television on it, his red outfit unmistakable even not knowing who he was just from a quick glance. He wears a sly smile on his face, eyes half-lidded over a monocle, a frankly stupid haircut that came to his shoulders with tiny antlers peeking out of it. Vox is still bitching, and this time you catch a name: Alastor. Your boss kicks his shoes off, rips his jacket from his frame, and falls to his knees on the mattress, bringing the pillow close and slotting it between his thighs.

You stop breathing.

He falls forward and braces himself on one hand, the other scrambling at his fly to bring out an impressive erection that you can tell even from this distance must be painful, faintly glowing a bright blue at the tip before fading to the darker shade of his normal skin at the base. He strokes himself once, spreads what looks like a fair amount of precum over his length before he releases his grip and dips his hips into the pillow, now free hand clutching at the fabric between his fingers. 

“Alastor,” he moans, and the low timbre of it shoots straight through your core, thighs clenching together as you stand stockstill in the darkness of the closet. “Oh fuck, Alastor, Al- fuck, fuck,” and his hips are driving into the pillow all the while, the bright tip of his cock occasionally peeking into view from your vantage point. 

You bring a hand up to clamp over your mouth, to try and muffle your breathing as you watch the private act and shift closer to the wider gap in the doors for a better view- slowly, silently. His voice is dark and delicious as he groans into the seemingly empty room, unrestrained in his pleasure. The hand braced on the bed is shredding the sheets, bits of fabric floating up into the air with the force of his claws dragging into them- the one on the pillow is surprisingly gentle, clenched lightly where the hair is on the image of the demon that adorns it.

Your body aches at the apex of your thighs, slick and throbbing just at the sights and sounds before you- if you made it out of this, if Vox didn’t discover and immediately kill you for witnessing this, you were going to have the most phenomenal orgasm of your fucking afterlife the moment you could get yourself alone. You’ve never wanted to be a pillow so badly in all of your existence- Hell, you’ve never wanted to be a pillow period but Vox was making it look downright tantalizing to be shoved between his legs and thrust against. 

He’s still going, his lower body moving rhythmically against the pillow and still muttering under his breath- “Alastor, Alastor, Alastor,” like he’s in a trance, can’t stop himself from saying it. His voice catches in his throat, hips stuttering then stilling while shoved hard against the pillow, collapsing against the mattress with a frustrated groan.

Everything is quiet for a moment, the only sound your muffled breathing against your hand as you peek through the door at the VoxTek CEO. Your spare hand itches for movement at your side, but you refuse- absolutely refuse- to get yourself off in your boss’ closet with him less than five feet away. You fist your fingers in the poofy fabric of the Val-approved maid uniform that the crew was made to wear, and you wait.

When Vox pulls his head up from the mattress, his screen is tinted pink in embarrassment even thinking no one can see him- he looks down at the pillow with such an earnest expression of longing that you feel embarrassed and avert your gaze for a moment, until he scoffs and you look back up to a sight you’re more familiar with. His face is twisted in anger now, and his claws hover menacingly over Alastor’s face before he snarls in disgust- at himself? At the other man?- and clambers off the bed. You watch his body move across the room, lithe muscles flexing as he moves, and only when he exits the room do you heave out the breath you had been holding, taking your hand away from your mouth.

You hear the rushing sound of water that indicates that the shower has been turned on, and you make perhaps the dumbest decision you’ve ever made- you stay in the closet instead of taking these precious few moments of him being out of the room to book it out of the penthouse. You’re not thinking clearly, so preoccupied with the arousal that it wars inside your body with the logical part of your brain saying to get the fuck out. But you’re surrounded by the sweet, heady scent of his cologne, the rough sounds of his groaning still echoing in your ears, and with your eyes slipping closed you slide a hand up under your skirt; you didn’t end up in Hell by sticking to the concept of chastity, after all.

Your free hand fists in the fabric of his shirts that hang next to your face, bringing them closer to breathe in the scent of him. The sounds he made echo in your mind, your fingers brushing lightly against the dampness of your panties, hand dipping inside them to graze your clit-

The closet door flies open, the light falling across your body and illuminating what is clearly a shocking sight to the Overlord if the glitching of his screen is anything to go by- one hand holds the Alastor pillow in a death grip, obviously about to toss it back into the closet after wiping it down with a damp rag (the sink, you realize, not the shower), probably for one of your team members to properly clean later under an oath of secrecy. Your hand is up under your skirt, the other gripping his shirts for dear fucking life, and Satan’s fuck, he was absolutely going to kill you.

You both stand frozen for a moment, still too shocked to move your hands until you see the spark of static cross between his antennae. You let go of his shirts and remove your hand from under your skirt. “Sir,” you start, and your voice cracks on the word. “I’m-” 

“Shut the fuck up,” he snaps, and even without the swirl of his hypnotic eye your jaw clamps closed. He lets the Alastor pillow fall to the ground, both hands free now to open both closet doors, and you close your eyes- this was it, goodbye Hell, nice knowing you. At least you were going out with a hot image burned behind your eyelids of the guy that was going to murder you.

Instead you feel the sensation of your floppy ear being rubbed between two fingers, gentle and inquisitive. When an eye peeks open again, Vox is staring at them, his gaze flicking between your ears to the tiny white spots that line the edges of your face that he can now see with the increased light. “You a deer?” He asks, his tone dark, and you heave a shaky breath.

“Yes, sir.”

He hums, a quiet noise as his other hand comes up to rest softly on your waist. “Didn’t notice earlier. Thought I told the head cleaning bitch I didn’t want any fucking deer in my tower.”

You force yourself to breathe slowly. “I had great recommendations and she said she would just keep me out of your way.”

“Great recommendations, huh? Any of your previous employers know you fucking touch yourself watching people get off in what they assume is the privacy of their own homes?”

Instinct- you try to run rather than face his questions, only getting as far as an abortive jerk forward before both  of his hands are on your hips, pushing you further against the back closet wall. His scent is fucking everywhere, a faint heat coming off his screen with how close it is to your face, and you feel the threat of claws where he grips you. “Please, I’m sorry-”

“This for me?” Vox takes one hand off your waist to grab your hand- the one that had been under your skirt- and moves it back to its prior position, just pressing against the front of your damp panties. “Or was it the fact that you were being a little pervert and I was none the wiser? Tell the truth now, dear,” he says, his eye going black rimmed and swirling, and you’re helpless to answer.

“A bit of both, sir,” you breathe, and he looks pleased at your answer, pressing your fingers harder against the heated skin under your joined hands. The words don’t stop- “I didn’t mean to come here, sir, there was a pillow in your office- and you said everything had to go back where it belonged, so-”

“Gotcha, gotcha,” he nods. “The downsides of hypnotism, huh? But it’s gotten us into an interesting situation- how much of that did you see?” He tilts his head towards the pillow.

Deep breath. “All of it, sir.”

“You must think I’m pretty pathetic now, huh?” 

His eyes still spins lazily at you. “Not at all,” you say, and the pixels of his eyebrows twitch upwards. “I thought it was… alluring. Sexy, to watch you let yourself go like that.” You glance down at the pillow, a grimace taking over your mouth. “Admittedly a little gross that you aren’t like. Properly cleaning that. Were you just going to throw it back into the closet?”

His screen tints and he lets go of you, taking a step back to kick the pillow out of your line of sight. “I have a dry cleaning lady that comes on Saturdays,” he says defensively, “it would have only been in there like two days max.”

“Sir, that’s still kinda-”

He tugs you out of the closet by the wrist and pulls you over to the bed, sitting on the edge and pulling so that you straddle his lap. “You wanna keep calling me gross or do you wanna fuck me?” He grinds your hips down onto his and you feel the hard length of his arousal against you despite it being not more than a few minutes since he had finished with the pillow. 

“Can’t I do both?”

“Cause let me tell you,” he adds, talking over you, not picking up the barb, “the sooner I can get that fucker out of my head, the happier I’ll be as your boss. And a happy boss might not decide to kill or fire you for being a- what’s the lady equivalent of a Peeping Tom? Just a slut?”

“I’m not sure there is one, sir,” you say breathlessly, and his tongue snaking out of his mouth to trail along the length of your neck distracts you from his fingers reaching up under your skirt to slide your panties to the side, thumbing your clit with soft pressure.

“S’nice that you’re a deer,” he murmurs, the tingly sensation of his lips tracing a path down your collar, letting his tongue slip between the swell of your tits, pushed on display in this fucking uniform. “Just like- shit, do you have…?” His other hand comes under your skirt as well, reaches around the back to cup your ass, and at the base of your spine-

“Oh, fuck,” he whispers when he gets a grip on your tail, fingers tightening around it in a way that makes you cry out, high and trembling. “Fuck, I gotta-” He shifts the both of you, a quick motion that ends with you bent over the edge of the mattress while Vox flips your skirt up, exposes the cute fawn spots that covered your ass and thighs, the fluffy nub of your tail above the red lace of your panties.

“Fuckin’ red,” he mutters, mostly to himself, “just like him- what is it with fuckin’ deer and red? Do you all use the same style guide or something?” When you look back, there’s a note that appears on his screen- “ask Vel about deer style magazine?”- before he sees you watching and grins. “Might wanna hold onto something, doll,” he advises, and before you can ask him why his face is pressed against your rear, tongue slipping between the slick folds of your cunt and diving in.

The shock of it makes you yelp, immediately devolving into a moan that’s lost in the sheets when you bury your face into them. The slick muscle is long and strong, reaching deep and flicking against your inner walls with a fervor you’ve never had from a partner before. You try to grind your hips against the bed, the motion aborted when Vox’s large hands come up to your waist and hold you in place so he can lick into your pussy more efficiently, keeping you firmly against his screen. He moans at the taste of you and keeps you still with one hand, the other coming down to rub forcefully at your clit. You groan into the sheets, fingers fisting in the fabric and fuck, fucking finally,  pressure and friction where you wanted it. “Vox, sir, please,” you whine into the mattress, and he moans against you, the vibration of it from his screen adding a nice edge to the pleasure. “Please, please, please-”

Tongue still inside of you, you can hear his voice, broadcast from the speakers on his head- “I’m not sure you get to beg for anything, baby,” he says, and his tone drips sarcasm and amusement. “I could leave you high and dry and I would be well within my fucking rights- maybe I decide that perverts don’t get to cum.” His tongue starts to draw back, and when your walls clench down on him in protest he fucking laughs. “I guess fucking any deer will do, though- helps that you’re fucking cute, even if you don’t really look like-”

Like him. Like Alastor. It should have been insulting, and maybe a little terrifying that possibly the only thing keeping you from having been murdered on the spot when he opened that closet was that you were a fucking deer.

Logic had no place in your body right now, though; you’d been aroused for the better part of Satan only knew how long, and you would take what you could get. Maybe if you were lucky he would just fire you after he fucked you stupid. “Please,” you ask him again, not caring if you sound pathetic about it, and he does pull off your pussy now, leaves your soaked entrance clenching down on nothing. “Fuck, sir, please-” 

He chuckles and you hear the clinking of his belt behind you, loud in the quiet of his room that’s interrupted only by your soft moans into the mattress. “Don’t worry, Bambi,” he said, using the nickname for Alastor that he had spit in anger when he first came into the room. “I’ll give it to you- give it to you real fucking good.” His hand reaches above your head and grabs the pillow that had led you in here like a lamb to the slaughter, shifts your hips up enough to shove it under them while pressing against your back. You feel the hard line of his cock against your ass and resist the urge to grind back onto it, staying put until he decides to move.

“Ohh, look at that! That’s fucking cute,” he says, and there’s a hard grip on your tail, making you aware of the faint shakiness to the appendage in his grasp. “All twitchy and needy- you always get like this when you want a cock in you?”

Your response is a drawn out whine when he finally pushes in, and fuck- seeing it glow faintly against the pillow while he rutted to completion couldn’t have prepared you for having his cock inside of you, filling your cunt perfectly and still fucking going. Vox presses in slowly, methodically, until he’s buried balls deep and breathing heavily against your back. “Fuuuccckkk,” he groans, and the rumble of it through his chest makes your inner walls spasm around the hard length of him. “Oh fuck, baby, do that again,” he encourages, a hand squeezing at your tail, and what are you supposed to do? Not listen to him? You clench down and he chuckles, low and dangerous, and there are lips nipping at your skin where the shirt of your uniform leaves you exposed. “God fucking damn, Bambi, you’re just-” He pulls back, the drag of his dick inside of you leaving sparks of pleasure that burn behind your eyelids, and shoves back in, the tip of him bumping something soft and sweet inside you that makes the evidence of your arousal drip from where you’re connected. He sets a steady pace, and you wish you could fucking see him- watch him use your body for his pleasure like he had used the pillow, mindless with it, bucking his hips with reckless abandon.

A hand wraps around your throat, gently at first before the feeling of it makes you moan and he tightens his grip, thumb coming up to brush against your lips and smearing the drool that he finds there, having fallen unbidden from your mouth as you panted with your mouth open while he fucked you. “Making a mess of my sheets, huh? I like the sound of that- fucking the drool out of you while I fuck my cum into you-”

The keening cry you try to let out at that is garbled and broken with his hand squeezing your throat, the other still having a grand old time pulling on your tail, and fuck, you think you could cum just like this. “V-Vox, sir,” you manage to get out with the pressure on the sides of your neck, “please, gonna-”

“Gonna cum, baby?” He lets go of your throat and you fall forward onto the mattress, face burying in the sheets again and muffling your sounds- he brings his fingers to your clit to circle it while he fucks you, still pulling your tail, and everything inside of you feels like its tensing and electrified around your cunt where you’re stuffed full of him. “Come on, show me how- how fucking sorry  you are for getting caught with your hand down your panties.” He brings his face down next to yours, teeth snapping in your ear and licking up the side of your face at the tears that have leaked out. “Wanna fucking call me gross now, Bambi? When you’re about to cum on my cock like a goddamn slut- fuck, so close, it’s almost fucking perfect-”

Static sparks off his antennae, and you can almost feel the thrum of electricity though his body before it ends at his finger tips, shocking both your clit and the sensitive skin of your tail where he still holds it in a death grip- that’s all it takes for you to almost scream with your orgasm and drag him over the edge with you, a soft grunt of “Alastor, fuck, Al-” as he spends himself in long, hot pulses inside of you. Static still tingles lightly at his fingertips, causing tiny jolts of pleasure that make your muscles twitch and your walls flutter around Vox’s cock, drawing your release out until you’re almost overstimulated, trying to shift your hips out from under his body.

The hand on your tail tightens in warning. “Stay the fuck still for a sec,” he mumbles, and he presses his face against your back- you can feel the heat of it through your shirt. “Just fucking- came twice in the span of thirty minutes, let me catch my goddamn breath before you try to go again.”

“That’s not-” He presses hard against your clit and your body jerks in his hold. “Not helping,” you finish feebly, and he laughs against your flank before he lets go of your body and pushes back, pulling out with a loud, wet noise that brings a flaming blush to your face. “And not what I was trying to do.”

There’s a shuffle of movement and then the bed dips in front of you- you raise your head up from the mattress to see Vox eagle-spread across the sheets, his chest heaving. “No, you were just trying to get off in my closet after watching me fuck a pillow like a fucking loser. Not sure if that reflects worse on you or me.”

You flush, and prop yourself up on your elbows to watch him- he didn’t seem like he was as angry now, less likely to murder you probably. “It’s not great for either of us, but probably a little worse for me.” You take a deep breath, tense despite the orgasm that made your bones feel like goo. “I… I don’t think you’re going to kill me now? But I do understand if you would still like to fire me, sir- this was… lovely, but I was still unprofessional, and-”

“God, just- shut up, damn, is that also a deer thing? Never being able to stop talking? I’m not gonna fucking fire you.” He throws an arm over his screen, his internal fans whirring and blowing hot air across your face. “Are you any good at your job or do you hide in closets on a regular basis?”

“First time transgression, sir.” He chuckles, and you shift a little bit higher up. “Besides- you know, this, I do a good job.”

He hums, turning on his side to look at you- or more specifically, to look at the valley between your breasts where they’re pushed up from your position on your elbows. “Fuck,” he mutters, then actually meets your eye. “Can you get a cum stain out of a pillow?”

You resist the urge to laugh. “I can do more than just wipe it down with a damp cloth and throw it in the closet to sit for two days.”

“Oh, fuck you,” he says, his screen tinting pink, but he doesn’t actually seem upset about it. “It would have gotten cleaned eventually. The point is- you’ve already seen it, I don’t think there’s any reason why anyone else needs to.”

“Your dry cleaning woman hasn’t seen it before?”

“What, you think I make a fucking habit of this?” He sits up, crossing his legs on the bed to turn and look down at you. “First time transgression, doll. Fuckin’ Val bought me that thing as a joke a few years ago, I forgot about it entirely until he came back, and all this fucking tension came along with it that I obviously couldn’t do anything about with him. No one else has seen it, no one else- no one else knows.”

“I can keep a secret,” you find yourself saying. “And yes, I can get a stain out of a pillow like that.”

His eyebrow quirks up. “I’ll take your word,” Vox says. “Tell you what- you work your magic on that fucking thing, we toss it back into the closet- properly cleaned this time- and we can discuss some kind of arrangement between the two of us. A personal contract with me, instead of the collective like everybody else. You won’t have to wear that uniform anymore,” he adds, “but I can’t say one that I come up with would be any better. I’d keep that cute tail on display though.”

“Sounds like a plan.” You stand from the bed and enjoy the way that his eyes trail down your body, even if they do hover a little longer on your ears. “Do you keep any hydrogen peroxide in the apartment?” He blinks at you. “Bleach? Rubbing alcohol? Fuck, baking soda and vinegar?”

“I’m the CEO, what the fuck do I need any of those things for? Everything I need other people will do for me.”

“God damn it- okay then, you wait here and try to keep your hands off the pillow- I’ll be back.” With a grin rivaling the one on the soiled cushion's image you turn your back to the still grumbling demon. You couldn’t believe your luck - not only had Vox not killed you but you got a good fuck and the promise of some sort of a promotion out of the situation as well. With newfound confidence, you flipped your skirt up and wagged your tail at him before you disappeared through the door to look for the necessary supplies, chuckling to yourself as you heard the grumbling turn into a needy groan.

[suzukiblu]

WIP WEDNESDAY GAME

Slimmed-down post/rules, but originally taken from @/kedreeva.

It’s WIP Wednesday! This week’s theme winner is "I didn't know I was lonely 'til I saw your face", a.k.a. Match. It's just Match.

Also we're only doing four WIPs this week because I keep having issues with actually getting to all five, so I'm hoping knocking one off the list will help me out there, since the main issue I'm having is switching between that many different WIPs. And if it doesn't help, maybe we'll try dropping down to three next time, hah.

Here’s how it works:

I will post the file names of five four WIPs, and will also post a snippet of new content from one of them to get the ball rolling.

Send me an ask with the name of one of the listed WIPs and I will write you a minimum of three sentences in that WIP in response!

Multiple requests are fine, but please send them in separate asks. Just a little easier for me to fill them that way, and also easier for people to read through the WIP tags smoothly later.

If you’re reading this, you’re invited!

WIP names:

Krypton lives and Kara did not sign up for this (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Clark panic-adopts his teenage clones (( chrono || non-chrono ))

you're a real Katch, girl (( chrono || non-chrono ))

mirror mirror (( chrono || non-chrono ))

snippet from “Krypton lives and Kara did not sign up for this”:

Kal does convey her welcome to Lois Kal-El–for the second time, but it’s a distraction from her kitchen self-repairing, so she’s not going to complain. Or at least, she’s mostly sure that’s what Kal is doing. Earthling is such a toneless language, it’s hard to feel like she’s really getting a good read on any of the emotion behind it, even when it’s Kal speaking it. Actually, maybe even more so when it’s Kal speaking it. 

She spares a glance towards Thirteen and Match, who are both standing very stiff and very still on the other side of her kitchen counter, but in very different ways. Thirteen looks sour and sullen and like he’s just barely managing to force himself to stay in place; Match looks blank and unaffected and like a powered-down android. Neither option is a reassuring sight. 

She looks back to Kal, who’s looking all fond and smitten and adoring at Lois Kal-El, who’s smiling back at him wryly even as she’s looking a little smitten herself. It’s a vaguely bewildering sight, honestly. She’s not sure she even knows the last time Kal courted . . . literally anyone, actually, and now he went to an alien death-planet and got married in the same amount of time the first stage of courting should’ve taken–and, technically, “reproduced” in that time too. Twice, again. 

Kara really cannot get over how godsdamned ridiculous it is that two separate Earthling labs decided to clone Kal. Two! What is wrong with that planet, how much damn cloning do they even do over there? 

Well, at least twice as much as they should be, apparently.

[quintessenceofdust88]

Wip Wednesday

I was tagged by @bidisasterevankinard and @typicalopposite for this one (thank you my loves!). I have gotten quite a few things that I'm writing, and y'all had me motivated for new things with your asks, so thank you sooo much for that! ♥ But for this one I'm going with my priest!Tommy AU, so here's the first scene complete. If some stuff looks familiar it's bc I posted snippets a few days ago!

Buck loves LA, but he hates days like this one, where it feels like the whole city is a greenhouse. The heat is sticky and humid, clinging to his skin and making him sweat in his uniform. All he wants is a cold shower and a minute to breathe. And, okay, maybe a cold beer wouldn’t be a bad idea.

Instead, he’s crammed in the back of the 118 fire engine, heading to San Pedro for one more call. And Buck loves his job, he does, but they’ve been on back-to-back calls for the last three hours. 

“Christ, I feel like I’m gonna melt” He whines, and Eddie smirks at him from the front seat (he had won rock paper scissors fair and square, the bastard), pushing his sunglasses up his nose. His Texas-raised ass does just fine with this horrible weather, and Buck hates him for it. 

“Yeah? Better start working hard to go to heaven then, cause you would not survive the eternal flames” He quips. Buck crosses his arms, too stubborn to let himself be influenced by the collective chuckle.

“I already work hard to go to heaven, don’t I? Saving lives and stuff” He says with a shrug, absolutely not pouting, thank you very much.. 

“I don’t know, Buckaroo.” Chim says, a playful smirk on his face. “When was the last time you set foot in a church? That’s supposed to be a big deal for the guy upstairs”

“Well, if that’s the dealbreaker, we’re all screwed” Hen says dryly, even though she doesn’t look particularly concerned. “Except for Cap, of course.”

Bobby chuckles from the driver’s seat, taking a turn to the right and stopping the truck. 

“Well, here’s your chance to make up for it” He says, and Buck comes down from the engine to find out they pulled up to a small stone-walled church. 

The doors are open, and most people are outside or at the very back of the church, chatting agitatedly, their eyes widened as most people when they find themselves witnesses to a 911-level emergency. It’s a sizable crowd, he thinks, considering it’s a Wednesday afternoon (which, as far as his Episcopalian-raised knowledge goes, is not a church day). 

As they rush up the church’s steps, he notices half of the crowd are the usual elderly ladies, but half of it are people around their 20s and 30s, and a few teens, which surprises Buck. They’re all whispering fiercely to each other and keep stealing glances inside the church. One of the ladies approaches them, relief clear in her eyes. 

“Oh, thank God you got here so fast!” She says, wringing her hands together. “It’s Mrs. Bellini, you see, she has low blood pressure, and this weather…”

“Ma’am” Bobby cuts her off as gently as possible. “Were you the one who called 911?”

“No, it was father Kinard.” She clarifies, leading them inside. “He’s already tended to her forehead, but he didn’t want to risk moving her until you arrived to check her situation.”

The church is relatively small, but the ceiling is high, and their footsteps echo against the walls. It’s a lot cooler inside, and Buck lets out an involuntary sigh of relief as they get out of the intense sunlight.

The woman leads them to one of the front pews, where they find another lady who’s sitting down, looking pale and sheepish. There's a white gaze pressed against her forehead, and a small red stain seems to have formed against it. Sitting by her side is a man dressed in white robes, a green-colored long scarf-looking thingy around his neck. 

He stands up when they approach, and Buck’s taken aback, because he’s ridiculously tall; a little taller than Buck, even, and that’s no easy feat. His features are sharp, a jawbone that could probably cut through glass, and he has a cleft on his chin (why did Buck notice that, he wonders? Is it weird to notice a priest has a cleft?). He’s looking at them with widened blue eyes that are filled with concern. 

“Father Kinard? I’m Captain Nash.” Bobby says, and the man nods sharply, his stance almost militarily. "Can you tell us what happened?" 

"He is exaggerating is what happened" The woman quips, her voice a little trembling, but her glare towards the priest is very firm. Father Kinard, however, doesn't seem intimidated. 

"Calling 911 after you passed out and hit your head is not exaggerating, Gloria, and you know that" He says gently, then puts a massive hand on her bony shoulder. "I'm your shepherd, I have to make sure my sheep are doing alright, don't I?" 

Buck smiles a little at that; it shouldn’t sound that endearing, but it does, and even the lady seems convinced, because she shakes her head resignedly, and doesn’t protest when Chim takes her arm and wraps the pressure cuff around it. 

“She fell unconscious during service and hit her head on the pew.” Father Kinard elaborates, still looking at Mrs. Bellini worriedly. “I figured the heat brought her blood pressure down, so I asked everyone to step outside and called 911 immediately. I applied pressure to the wound and it seems to have stopped the bleeding. I made sure to keep her awake and she’s not showing any signs of confusion or dizziness.”

He knows it’s not polite to stare, but Buck can’t help himself. It’s not common for someone to give them this level of information with so much calmness when they arrive on a call. Usually they try to gather what little snippets they can through tears, yelling and fainting over the sight of blood. But father Kinard is collected and eloquent in what he says, and Buck's astounded. 

“And you're right, her blood pressure is a little low. The wound looks fine, though.” Chimney says, gently removing the gauze to inspect the cut. “Wow, looks like your priest cleaned this up real well, didn't he, Gloria? My job is already done for me.”

“Father Kinard is great whenever anyone gets hurt.” Gloria gushes, and the priest blushes under the attention, shrugging sheepishly.

“I had first aid training in the army.” He says, and when they all turn to him with widened eyes, he gives them a wry smirk. “Which was obviously before I joined the seminary.”

“Well, you were trained well, father.” Hen says approvingly, inspecting the wound herself and dabbing at it with a cotton swab covered in anti-septic. Gloria flinches a little, but sits still as Hen gets it cleaned and then places a band-aid over it. “This won't need stitches, it's very superficial. How are you feeling, Mrs. Bellini?”

“Oh, I'm perfectly alright now.” She says distractedly, her eyes turning back to her priest. “But I am so ashamed you had to stop service because of me, father! I'm very sorry! And for such a small thing too.”

“We’re lucky it was small, but it could have been bad. I wouldn’t risk it.” Father Kinard says patiently. “And don't worry about the service, Gloria, it was after Communion; we'd already done the greatest bits anyway.” He winks at her, a blinding smile on his face. 

Buck doesn’t get the joke, but apparently it’s funny, because both Eddie and Bobby chuckle at it. Chim is removing the cuff from Gloria’s arm and patting it jovially. 

“Well, looks like you’re all set, Mrs. Bellini.” He tells her. “If you experience any dizziness or headache, you should look for a hospital, but otherwise, you’re fine.” 

“And thank God for that!” Father Kinard adds with a smile that makes his eyes crinkle, squeezing Gloria’s shoulder with genuine affection. “And thank you, first responders, as well. Come, I’ll walk you out before giving Gloria a lift home.” He says, and then strides along them to the back of the church, the smile still lingering on his face.

Buck has a hard time reconciling this laughing priest to the buttoned-up, serious-faced ministers he knew in childhood, from the few times his parents made him attend church. This man is full of joy and confidence, Buck can tell right away, and he just thinks he’s so cool. 

“You quite literally have nothing to thank us for, Father.” Bobby adds warmly, smiling at Kinard. Buck knows his captain has a close relationship with church, and he seems completely comfortable striking up a conversation with the priest. “You had done half our job for us before we were here.”

He shrugs modestly once more, walking alongside Bobby, and Buck is irrationally envious of his boss for a second or two. They stop by the church’s entrance, and the man extends a hand to Bobby. 

“Thank you, captain…” He says, trailing off, and Bobby firmly shakes his hand, smiling warmly. 

“Nash. Captain Bobby Nash. Your blessing, father.” Bobby asks respectfully, and the priest makes a cross sign over his head. 

“God Bless you and your team, Captain Nash. May He keep you safe in your very necessary jobs.” He says warmly, and then turns to Hen. “And thank you, firefighter…”

Buck watches in increasing despair as her, Chim and Eddie introduce themselves to the priest, shaking his hand, and realizes that soon it’ll be his turn.

He thought the church was cooler than the outside, but all of a sudden he's feeling hot all over again. Should he ask for the man’s blessing? He didn’t offer it to the others, and they didn’t ask, but should he? Is he even allowed if he’s not a Catholic? Does he even want the man to touch his sweaty forehead? 

And then the priest looks at him with that crunchy smile, an inexplicable blush creeps up to his cheeks. Buck thanks God - yes, he’s fully aware of the irony, and he does not find it funny - that he can blame it on the heat and his heavy uniform (never mind that father Kinard's clothes also look heavy and he's still perfectly composed, but Buck definitely won't think about how he'd look all sweaty).

“Thank you, firefighter…” He says, trailing off and extending a hand, and it takes Buck a second to realize he's supposed to shake it and offer his name (not his phone number. Definitely not his phone number).

“Evan. Buckley. Buck!” He blurts out like a complete idiot, and wonders if it's wrong to wish for a five scale fire so they can rush out of there.

Father Kinard raises an eyebrow at him, a smirk on his curved lips. That's when Buck notices he's still shaking hands with the man, and he lets go clumsily. 

“My, that's a mouthful” Kinard says, and Buck almost blurts out that he has something else that's a mouthful before his eyes clock the white collar around the man's neck. 

As it is, he just snickers awkwardly and mutters a goodbye, his voice high-pitched and strained.

Buck's at the truck before anyone else, mentally preparing himself for being teased all through the shift they just started. 

His only saving grace is that, as much as he made a complete fool of himself in front of father Kinard, it's not a problem. Buck'll never have to see the man again, will he? So it's not like it matters.

Naturally, the priest shows up at the station the next day.

Np tagging @agentpeggycartering @unhingedangstaddict @fairytalegonewronga03 @laundryandtaxesworld @mmso-notlikethat and whoever else would like to do it!

[nicksbestie]

Nooks And Crannies - M. Sturniolo

a series

part five (read part four here)

Summary : You always seem to be somewhere in the bookstore Matt works at, never buying anything, just reading, and while Matt is technically not supposed to talk to customers for so long while he's on the clock, he can't help himself.

Warnings : none!

Word Count : 1038

Pairing : Matt Sturniolo/Reader (romantic)

A/N : i didn't forget about this little project, don't worry!!

You stared at the bookmark, and the number scribbled onto it, pushing down the anxiety and deciding to send a message.

hi! is this matt?

You didn’t have to wait long for a response, the almost immediate ping of your phone catching you by surprise, indicating a reply.

(XXX)-XXX-XXXX : yes! i assume this is ____?

You quickly saved his contact, simply saved as “matt :)”.

“yes! how are you?” 

The conversation only blossomed from there. You were glad that you lived alone now, because had you still been living at home, your family would have teased you about just how much you were smiling at your phone. You texted Matt nearly nonstop, and you had been enjoying every moment of it. It was just like your normal conversations at The Ivy, sharing book thoughts, or snippets of your day, or even funny jokes. You had received a ton of silly pictures from Matt’s brothers, as they had a habit of stealing his phone and sending random selfies. You found it funny, Matt found it annoying, but either way, you always had something to talk about. Conversation with him was never dry, which you had been slightly afraid of when you had texted him for the first time, and he always replied as quickly as possible, unless he was at work. 

When you weren’t talking, you couldn’t deny the fact that you missed speaking to him. It was really nice to have someone who actually wanted and enjoyed talking to you. It was another couple of days before you could actually take any time off to leave your apartment, and of course, the first place that you went when you left that afternoon was The Ivy. It had been pouring rain, but you couldn’t stand being inside your room for one more minute. So, you pulled on a raincoat, grabbed the umbrella by your door, and began the short walk downtown. Since it was warm out, and the sun was peeking through some clouds, the walk wasn’t miserable, and you actually quite enjoyed it. You had always loved the rain, and since you had an umbrella to keep you dry, you didn’t mind being out walking in it. 

It wasn’t long before you pushed open the door to The Ivy, shaking your umbrella out beforehand. You wrapped it up, putting it into your bag, and moving to a shelf that had some colorful book covers, as they had caught your eye the second you walked in. You noticed that a lot of them were new shipments, having just been placed on the shelves, and you were so excited to pick up a couple of them and pore over the pages. You read the backs of a few of them, and they seemed intriguing, so you held them in your arms as you made your way over to the cafe to get a cup of coffee. Besides, you deserved it after your insanely busy previous couple of days. However, when you got over to the counter, there was already a cup with your name scribbled on it, with it being your usual. 

You went and picked it up, smiling when you noticed Matt waving at you, sitting at one of the tables with his own cup. “Was this you?” You asked, motioning to the cup. He smiled at you, nodding. “I saw you walk in, figured I’d order your usual for you since I was grabbing my own coffee anyways.” You smiled, taking a drink from it, enjoying the way you automatically felt relaxed. “Well, aren’t you sweet.” He grinned, a smirk on his face. “I try.” You read the back of the book that he was reading, nodding in slight interest, and it was at this point that you noticed the name tag being on his shirt.

“Wait, are you working right now?” 

He shook his head, turning a page.

“Nope. I’m on my break, but I took it so late that I actually get off only fifteen minutes after I go back on shift.”

You sat with Matt for the rest of his break, chatting about random things, mostly books and coffee, but also how both of your mornings had gone prior to being at The Ivy. Matt had worked a short mid-day shift, so he hadn’t been there all morning, which he was grateful for. He had picked up a coworker’s shift since they had been searching for coverage due to a family emergency, and he was heading right back home as soon as he got off. You found a good book to read when Matt had to clock back in, and you dove right into it. You were enjoying the gentle atmosphere, and the time flew. You were a fast reader, so you got through a good chunk of the book before Matt got off the clock and found you still at the coffee table, coming over to say goodbye before he left The Ivy. 

“So, where are you heading after you leave here?” 

You softly laughed, shrugging.

“Honestly, I’m not sure. The rain has gotten a lot worse, and I was going to go walk around shops, but I’m not sure I want to go back out into that. I may just stay here for a while until it lets up, but I’m glad I got to see you! Even if it was within your working hours.”

He smiled, removing the name tag off of his shirt.

“Yeah! One of these days, we’ve got to hang out outside of this shop. I do have a personality other than work.” 

“Oh, I’m sure that you do. You’ll have to show me it eventually.” 

Matt looked like he was pondering an idea, so you quietly waited for a response.

“Why don’t you come home with me?” 

You were slightly taken aback, and nervously laughed.

“Damn, you have to ask me out first!” 

Matt smiled, shaking his head.

“Not like that. Just for dinner. You can meet my brothers, we can spend time together outside of where I work, a nice get to know you more night. If you’re not interested, I totally understand!” 

You smiled at him, walking towards the door with him.

“I would love to.”

taglist : @blahbel668 @mattsgirlfrieeend @69isabella69 @mayhem-72 @iculdstealurgf @iluvm4ttsturni0l0

@sturnioloslife @heartsforkarina @nervousrebelglitter @sturniclo @elliegrace-7 @mattsturnioloisbae @strnilo

@dazsha19 @patscorner @hailee22sstuff @tworosesblackthorn @h3arts4harry @getosuckers @knhxa @scoobydoosnack

@tapesmatts @st7rnioioss @st7rnioiossblog @jamiesturniolo @sofie-1 @muwapsturniolo @graysturns @certifiednatelover

@bitchydragonparadise @haunted-headset-alt @skyslondon @matthewsturniolosgirlfriend101 @alivzstuff

@satvisfavetoodles @zivall @elliesturniolo1 @elliewrites1

~ if you'd like to be added to my taglist, click here!

~ my inbox is open, come chat!!

[sturniyolos]

[song]Producer!Matt SFW + NSFW headcannons. 🎀

SFW 💍

- prod!matt who would use your laugh as his producer tag.

“Baby, stop!” You say giggling as Matt tries to tackle you down.

“Let me kiss you.” Matt states, pinning you down. He had accidently left his phone recording to send snippets to his artist, before you came in. Then, the pure sensation of your laugh made a lightbulb go off in Matt’s mind— and that’s how he wanted everyone to know it was his song; by your laugh.

- prod!matt who would let you have little snippets of his new songs, asked for your opinions, and even gave him some feedback.

“What about this one?” Matt asks, playing ‘NC-17’ by Travis Scott ft 21 Savage. You started to listen to it, the song already becoming your favorite. But, you started to make faces that Matt became self-conscious about.

“Ah shit, you don’t like it?” He asks, pausing the music right away.

“Noooo, I love it. I just— there’s something off about it.” You say, trying to grasp what you can do to change it.

“Have any suggestions?” Matt asks, holding your hand as you swing side by side in the chair.

“H-how about you have the hidden vocals a little bit higher where the autotune is? I feel like that would do the job.” You state, looking at Matt with doe eyes.

He does exactly what you say and you both listen back to it. It sounds even better than what was put originally.

“You’re such a smart girl, sweetheart.” He says, grabbing your hand and kissing it.

- prod!matt who lets you sit there and watch while his artists record lines.

“Maybe have a higher pitch on that one part, yeah? And then we’ll see which ones we like better.” Matt states, letting go of the button so the person in the booth can’t hear him anymore. Matt looks back at you, sitting on the couch with your IPad coloring.

“You okay?” He asks, walking over. He puts his pointer finger on your chin so you can look up at him.

“Mhm.” You hum.

He kisses your head and makes his way over his chair again. He knew he worked better when you were just there to keep him company.

- prod!matt who let you play around with the buttons that was for the recording booth.

“And what does this do?” You ask, curious.

“That makes your pitch go high or low, I usually use the low pitch at the end of songs.” He explains.

“And this one?” You point to the yellow button that can go up and down.

“This one’s your favorite— autotune.” He says, looking at you.

“Go in there! I wanna test it out.” You state, getting all excited.

He rolls his eyes but still makes his way into the booth. You guys spent your whole day fucking around with the autotune settings, singing awfully on his machine.

NSFW 💐

- prod!matt who would use your moans secretly in the back of songs.

“M-Matt, please.” You say as quiet as you’ve ever been. He was pounding you from the back as you both stood infront of the booth.

“Yeah? What do you want, hm? Be louder.” He says, pulling out his phone to record you. You make eye contact with his phone, but nothing comes out but moans. He smiles as you let out two specific moans and gave him the idea to use it in a song. [think P power by Gunna]

A couple days later, Matt releases the song— you listen to it, hearing specific moans being played in the song.

“Mattttt.” You walk into the studio, with the song pulled up on your phone.

“You like hearing your moans? Because I do.” He asks, looking down at you.

“You could’ve picked prettier moans.” You say, all sad.

“Just say you want me to fuck you again.”

- prod!matt who eats you out as a reward to staying in the booth all day long.

Your hands grip Matt’s curls. Legs spread open, your whole bottom half exposed. He looks up at you and smirks, knowing he’s got you.

“You’re so good for me baby, look at you.” He said, rubbing your clit.

“B-baby, I’m gonna c-oh my God.” You say throwing your head back.

“Do it. Cum on my face baby. You waited so long for me, you deserve it my love.” He states, putting his whole face into your heat.

His words are what did it for you as you finish, panting and breathless.

“My pretty girl, let me clean you up.” He states, moving his knees to the couch to kiss you.

- prod!matt who punishes you for being too impatient on waiting for him.

“F-fuck! I’m s-sorry.” You state, trying to pull Matt off of you as you couldn’t take him anymore. You were on your 3rd orgasm of the night— you were overstimulated, sweating, and drooling everywhere.

“Oh, now you wanna be sorry? Ion think you learned your lesson.” He says condescendingly, kissing the arch where your back curves in. Then, slapping you ass so hard it’ll for sure leave a mark tomorrow.

“Wanna act like a brat and whine every second? I’ll fuck you like a brat.” He says, pulling your hair back as you reach your 4th orgasm.

- prod!matt who gets constantly teased when you’re not with him at the studio.

You

*Attatchment: 1 image*

I’m waiting for you babyyyyy.

Matt

Bro I’m still here and you got me hard as fuck

You

Aw, that’s too baddd

Matt

So, you really tryna lose your ability to walk tonight?

You

Actions speak louder than words

Matt

I’ll be home in 10, be ready for me

You

Drive safe <3

*Attachment: 3 images*

- prod!matt who lets you cockwarm him while he’s making his music.

You’ve been on Matt’s dick for 20 minutes at this point, begging for a release. Matt would be lying if he said he wasn’t begging either.

You told him you’d behave if you got to sit on his length, but your wetness dripping down your lower thighs to his wasn’t helping.

“I know you wanna ride baby.” He states, whispering in your ear.

“I p-promised I’d be good.” You said sighing in defeat.

“You’ve shown me you’re a good girl. Now go— show me how bad you’ve been cravin’ this shit.” He says, choking you from behind.

You start to bounce on his cock, moans filling up the room quickly.

“Fuck— you’re g’na make me cum already.” He says, holding your hips to guide you up and down his member.

“Where do you want me to cum, mama?” He asks.

“I-in me. Don’t pull out, please. I want e-every drop.” You say, whining.

“Such a dirty girl.” He whispers in your ear, giving you one hard thrust that makes him fill you up, and what makes you squirt all over his bottom half.

- prod!matt who lets you give him head when he’s stressed.

You get on your knees and look up at hm.

“C’mon baby, I gotta finish this song by tonight. Trilly gon’ whoop my ass if I don’t-” He says, cupping your face with his big hand.

“Let me just help you relieve some stress, I promise I’ll be quick.” You say, cutting him off and smiling up at him.

He lets you take control as you unbutton his pants, seeing the print of his member in his underwear. You kiss the outline of the tip, making Matt hiss.

You take the underwear off of him and immediately get to work. You take the base of his cock and start sucking on the tip.

He moans as a response, creating a makeshift ponytail so he can see your pretty face.

“Can I fuck your face, please?” He asks, becoming submissive.

You nod, letting him hover over the chair and fuck your face until you start crying.

“F-fuck yes.”

“Y-you take me so well.”

You make him sit back down, and shoving his whole dick down your throat.

“Mmmmm, c-cumming— fucking sh-.” He exclaims, letting loose and having his whole warm load in your mouth. You show him your tongue filled with his kids, swallowing it, and showing him your mouth empty.

“You make me so crazy.” He grabs your throat and kisses you.

———————��——————————————————

I saw someone on here saying they wanted a prod!matt fanfics but I forgot their user :-( . Hopefully they find this lol.

[jungkoode]

I know I don't owe anyone explanations—but I do feel a kind of emotional responsibility, especially since I know this space is a source of comfort for some of you. So just in case I seem a little more quiet than usual from now on:

I recently got some really heavy news about a family member's health. I'm still processing it. Still figuring out how to exist around it.

I might be less active for a while. Slower. Quieter. But I'm still here, just moving through it softly.

Thanks for holding space for that. Please take care of yourselves and each other. ♥︎

JOIN KIKI NATION HERE!

And gain your spot to vote on the occasional polls. <3

masterlist : if you want to check out my fanfics taglist request : if you want to be notified when i post a certain fic about me : if you want to know a little more about me! commissions: if you want me to write something personal for you! tags : how i tag stuff in my blog work organization / guide: to understand where everything is and how it’s organized in my blog ask the characters: in the post linked playlists and moodboards for all fics

things to keep in mind!

i write extremely slow-paced slowburns. that means you might be 300k words in before a feeling gets acknowledged. if that’s not your thing, that’s okay! no hard feelings—but my stories simply aren’t built for fast payoffs or casual reading.

my stories are not easy to read. they’re very detailed and you have to pay a lot of attention and dissect everything. more about this is explained in my FAQ. if you can’t digest that type of stories, that’s okay, but please let people who like that enjoy it.

all of my stories are written in limited point of view. you are reading from inside the character’s head—their thoughts, their feelings, their assumptions. that means unreliable narration. they will misinterpret things, make flawed judgments, and romanticize behaviors they shouldn’t. that is on purpose. you are expected to separate character perspective from authorial intent.

i have zero tolerance for bad faith, hostility, or discourse bait. if you come here to stir conflict, guilt-trip, or manufacture outrage—especially by willfully misinterpreting posts or fic content—you will be blocked. if your engagement isn’t in good faith, you’re not part of this community—and I’m not obligated to make room for that energy.

supporting plagiarism is a choice. if you make that choice in any way (be it comments, reblogs or hype) kindly show yourself out. this space values originality and respect the work that goes into it.

update schedule is explained in the faq. check it before asking.

this blog is diehard ot7. negativity toward any member will not be tolerated and will be removed.

if you make a post about my fics, use the tag format. for example, tag fuck me up as #fmu and include the character (#fmu!jungkook) so i can find it and interact with you.

ask away, but read FAQ first ❤︎︎

— if you disregard FAQ, your ask will be disregarded too.

LATEST FⵊC UPDATES

Fuck Me Up | FMU — chapter 24

The 25th Hour | 25H — chapter 10

Kkangpae | KGP — chapter 19

Altars in Shallow Waters | ASW — chapter 5

5 Seconds To Freedom | 5STF — chapter 1

We Grew Up somewhere along the way | WGU — chapter 1

Code : Epitaph | C:E — chapter 1

find me on:

ao3 | wattpad | ko-fi | x | tiktok

sneak peeks, large snippets and early access on my ko-fi

i don’t have any other accs. if you see anybody impersonating me, let me know.

[pimento-playing-hopscotch]

Putting my new Jonah series out there!

I really love the Carlos/TK/Jonah family. I blame them entirely for casting the most precious child in the world to play Jonah. I have three fics posted about their family, and have several more started/planned.

I named the series after a quote from the 2003 Freaky Friday (which that movie remains a BANGER. That is one sequel I am like YES PLEASE TAKE MY MONEY I WANT THIS MOVIE SO BAD!!)

Back to this-

Here is a snippet of my most recent Tarlos and Jonah fic, I'll Like You For Always-

“Don’t you work today?” Jonah asked as Carlos carried him back into the kitchen. “Will they be mad?”

“Nope,” Carlos shook his head. “I’m not going in today, and I pulled some strings and I’m only going in for a half day tomorrow. Because what’s the number one rule in this house?”

“Boogers don’t belong on the table,” Jonah answered.

“Not that one,” Carlos said as TK bit the inside of his cheek so he wouldn’t laugh. “That is a good rule, mijo, but I meant another one. Family…”

“Family comes first!” Jonah exclaimed, clapping that he got it right.

“You got it, bud,” TK nodded with a grin.

This is from the third installment - I'll Like You For Always- where Jonah has a small medical emergency and spends a lot of time having TK and Carlos read the book Gwyn read to TK when he was little.

Second installment- Razzle, Mr. Strand-Reyes? - Mother's Day approaches; Tarlos and Jonah get ready to change their last names and TK struggles with missing his mom.

First installment - Little Pitchers - TK doesn't realize how closely Jonah listens to him when driving around.

And in case you're reading these and wondering- what the hell is Owen doing there? I started this fic the day after the finale aired-

You'll Always Find Your Way Back Home - Owen is gravely injured on the job of chief in New York and contemplates if he shouldn't have left Austin.

No pressure to read, just tagging people in case they're interested- i'm just very excited to usher in this new era of LS fic - @anewkindofme @laneybishop89 @firstprince-history-huh @kiankiwi @carlos-in-glasses @chicgeekgirl89 @carlos-tk @carlossreaders @ssealie @henrygrass @the-126-family @strandnreyes @reyestrandd @paperstorm @afiendishthingynisba @annoyingcloudearthquake @tailoredshirt @bonheur-cafe @heartstringsduet @tailoredshirt @thisbuildinghasfeelings @liminalmemories21 @literateowl @guardian-angle22 @reasonandfaithinharmony @mrs-corrections-78 @lightningboltreader @welcomehometk @welcometololaland @herefortarlos @everlastingday @whatsintheboxmh @eclectic-sassycoweyes @ironheartwriter @rangersoup

[persianflaw]

ATTENTION ALL PERSONNEL!

ATTENTION ALL PERSONNEL! The M*A*S*H fanfiction community has been approved! actually it was approved two weeks ago but i was on vacation

This community is open to any and all fans of M*A*S*H fic. Whether you're a writer, a reader, or a total newbie, this space is for you! You can talk about fics you've loved, ask for advice about a sticky plot point in your latest WIP, ask for recommendations for a ship you like, share an AO3 link to your latest fic, or share snippets from your work; the world is your oyster!

>> LINK <<

(As of 6.21.2024, communities don't let you generate an invite link yet, so just like/reply to this post if you want an invitation! This post will be updated with a proper invitation link once that feature is implemented.)

RULES (May be subject to change, but probably not that much change, lol.)

Be nice. Duh. Any bigotry or unkind behavior will not be tolerated. Welcome everyone with open arms and open hearts, and be ready to make new connections.

18+ only. Go nuts. Show nuts. Whatever.

No gory or sexually explicit images. Most of these go against tumblr's TOS, and we don't want the community to get deleted.

Keep things on topic. We're joining this community to talk about fic, so let's make sure we keep our posts fic-related! General discussions about M*A*S*H are fun, but not what this community is intended for.

If you don't like something, scroll past. We all like different things, and that's what makes the world interesting. If someone shares a fic that isn't to your tastes, you don't have to read it. Leaving a rude comment on anybody's post will get you kicked. (If you're concerned that somebody is posting bigoted or hateful material, let me know, but I honestly don't anticipate this being an issue at this time.)

Use read mores for long posts or NSFW material. This makes navigating the dash easier, and helps prevent people from getting jumpscared by lovingly detailed descriptions of oral sex on the subway, something that has of course never happened to me.

Tagging or using content notes for your writing is encouraged. This is the best way to find your audience. People who aren't interested in a particular subject can skip over, and you'll also be able to draw in the people who are enthusiastically interested! If you think a particular topic might be especially sensitive, a read more is never a bad idea.

Only give concrit (constructive criticism) when asked. This is a somewhat contentious topic in fandom as a whole, so we're keeping it simple and asking that members don't give criticism on fic posts unless the author specifically requests it.

And one final note:

Small groups and communities can easily become cliquish. Few things feel worse than joining a group, hoping to find like-minded people, only to find yourself surrounded by what feels like an impenetrable friend group with no interest in talking to you. Nobody wants to feel alone in a crowd.

So when you join this group, don't just talk to people you already know. That defeats the point of joining this kind of community, anyway! Make an effort to talk to someone new. Leave a gushing comment about a stranger's fic excerpt. Tag someone who you think has a really cool interpretation of a character you like. Reply to a post that hasn't gotten any attention. Include people who seem a little shy. Be open and friendly and welcoming.