#Did I leave this damn near finished in my drafts?

[panie-wanie-dean-bean]

Do any of the cow hybrid boys have a preference for how they're milked? Like what position they're in, where y'all are, whether you use your hands/mouth/a machine, etc.?

Well first of all, none of them prefer a machine. Some of them are fine with one, but especially for the boys with larger chests it's just not comfortable. All of them love your mouth though, it's just so intimate and warm. Though it's a little too intimate in the beginning, so it's best to stick with your hands. Where it almost feels like a machine is stealing their milk it feels like they're giving their milk whenever you milk them. Hands are for quicker "Lighten the load" or "for selling" milkings and your mouth is more for "I want you to feel good" or "let me take care of you" milkings

As for positions and places

Jack: Sitting up and somewhere warm. He doesn't like how cold feels on him normally and when he's this sensitive cold is to die. If you don't watch him he might over work himself just to stay warm so keep an eye out

Rory: Either on his back or held bent over a bucket if it's for collecting. Rory gets so eepy when it's his milking week, he just wants you to hold him and gently coax the milk out of him as he moans and squirms in your arms. Because he's so tired he passes out in odd places but he prefers his milkings in his room

Jean: You have to be alone and away from prying ears when you milk Jean. Why? Well, he brats pretty fuckin hard on his milk week because he just can't get the thought of being used out of his head. He wants your cock or strap to pound into him as you pinch and flick and bite his overly sensitive nipples

Joseph: He gets so fuck drunk off of you milking him he doesn't give two shits about where you do it or how. He likes it a little rough but on his milking week he mostly wants you to be gentle with him, so only a hickey or two on his neck, max

Bo: First of all, Bo doesn't like when you milk him by hand. He only wants you to take his milk, the thought of you selling it makes his skin crawl. He likes it on his back, on his human sized doggy bed you got him per request. He never gets why you have to wash it afterwards even though it's soaked in milk

Nick: He understands that this is business and will treat it as such unless you talk to him about how you do find pleasure in bringing him pleasure. For him the whole thing is just work but if you were to ask him the perfect milking conditions? Dim room, maybe a few candles, and a soft bed he can sit on while you milk him and crash on once he's empty. Please do him the favor and make it romantic

Shaun: On his back, on his bed, massaging your tits back. It doesn't matter that you don't produce milk or even if you never could produce milk, he just loves making you squirm with him. You know how cats will make biscuits? He'll do that to your tits. No claws, obvi, but just that kneading motion

Ian: On his back where ever the most people can hear or see him (within the heard) His chest is somehow more sensitive than the others so it's always a sex thing when you milk him

Berry: No one can know about this. Do all of them have milking weeks? yes. Does that make him feel any better about his? Hell no. It needs to be under the cover of night, dark room, locked door, no talking. At least the first year will be like this but you can slowly work him into trusting you a bit more over time. He just has a hard time being seen like that, respect his boundaries and he'll learn to respect you...a little

[starfinss]

Thanks for answering my ask!😊 i do have request/suggestion involving Cyno haha, what about a 🍋 scenario where Cyno, Al Haitham and a character of your choice get accidentally hard from having their S/O innocently sit on their lap? They try to hide it but they fail.. 🙈 if that would be alright with you!

This has been in my inbox for literal months, I am SO sorry.

I’ve been planning a trip abroad, plus I’ve had no ideas for this prompt until like an hour ago when I was playing Genshin and thinking of story ideas. Anyway, sure, I’ll write that. The character of my choice will be Lyney, because I’m working on his build right now and I’ve been sort of drafting a fic for him while I’m writing the Jing Yuan fic.

As always, let me know if any of you want full fics from this.

—𝘚𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘓𝘢𝘱𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘜𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘴.

— 𝘈𝘭𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘮

— Unless you’re at home together, I doubt Alhaitham would let you sit on his lap for this very reason.

— Alhaitham is a man who lives my the rules of logic, and while I won’t say he hasn’t fucked you on his desk at work, he’d call those ‘momentary lapses in judgement.’

— Not that he didn’t enjoy them, though.

— He’s the type who likes to do things where the chances of being caught are low. He likes to draw things out, doing everything he can to make you feel good. And so, he prefers to engage in activity like this in the comfort of your bedroom.

— So, in instances like this, if you were to convince him to let you sit in his lap while you waited for him to finish up his work after everyone was home for the night, he might give in, just a little bit.

— Really, you just wanted to be close to him, maybe close your eyes for a while. He loves closeness as much as the next person, being near to the one you love is always nice.

— The risk of being seen in such a compromising position is low, which is a plus, and he gets to feel your warmth against his body as he finishes what he has to do for the day.

— But then you shift forward, nuzzling closer, and your body rubs against his just right, and oh Archons, he doesn’t have time for this.

— The way your body settles so perfectly over him makes his mind scatter to anything and everything besides work. The friction as you rearrange yourself against him is enough to make him feel like he’s going crazy.

— He hides it well, though. Alhaitham is good at keeping a blank face.

— As casually as he can, he shifts you back so you’re away from his growing erection, because he has to finish this paperwork before he leaves, and you’re so maddeningly distracting.

— But that doesn’t go unnoticed. You look up at him quizzically, and when you’re met with a blank stare, you shift back to where you were most comfortable, just to see his reaction.

— He sets his jaw, breath catching as he stiffens, unable to hide the way his body reacts to yours as you realize why he moved you away.

“Did I make you hard?” You whisper, a little surprised, “I didn’t even do anything.”

A quiet scoff as he looks at you fully, his self-restraint beginning to fray. Damn you for always having this effect on him.

“It’s kind of hard not to with you practically grinding against me.”

A sly smile overtakes your face, the innocent desire to hold him replaced with something much more lascivious.

“Would you like some help with that, Mister Acting Grand Sage?”

— Lips collide, and you end up bent over the desk as he holds you in place by your hips, the office filled with the sound of skin on skin and his low, pleasured groans as he fucks you, deep and hard, just the way he knows you like it.

— Needless to say, that paperwork didn’t end up getting done that night.

— 𝘊𝘺𝘯𝘰

— Like Alhaitham, I don’t think Cyno would really allow such a thing unless the two of you were alone in your own home.

— He doesn’t like breaking rules or doing things that could be seen as unbecoming, especially not in public.

— It’s because of the fact that he most likely wouldn’t engage in that sort of thing in public that I also doubt he’d try and hide it.

— In his eyes, things tend to be rather black and white, and he separates your sex life together from everyday life. He associates you sitting in his lap with other more improper thoughts that he shouldn’t be distracted by when he’s working or out of the house.

— It doesn’t change just how much he loves you, and even in daily life he expresses that in other ways.

— This is getting long winded and stupid but I want this to be interesting and not just “he’s reading a book and you’re in his lap,” which I could very easily do.

— I sure am a writer. Also this idea is stupid, but it’s also fun. I will probably write a full fic for it.

— But, anyway, the point I was making is, if you were to accidentally end up in his lap, then because of that association between you being that close and sexual activity, he might end up getting hard rather easily.

— While tracking a fugitive scholar together, the two of you end up being forced to fight when a group of Eremites come through, and the ensuing scuffle catches the attention of a herd of Sumpter Beasts.

— You and Cyno are confined into a small hiding space, and because of the limited amount of room, you’re forced to straddle him.

— You, of course, are wriggling around, trying to get comfortable in the awkward position, and it’s when you finally settle down onto his lap and he catches you by the waist to keep you from fully resting against him that you realize what has happened.

— He’s not meeting your eyes, simply looking out through the gaps in the rocks to watch the herd of beasts go by, but you can see his jaw tighten when you shift forward and out of his grip. When you move your hips down, a hand shoots out to still you with a grip that is nearly bruising.

“Stay still.”

— You’re a little surprised, he’s usually able to keep that sort of thing under control fairly well, but in retrospect, you can’t really blame him with all the moving around you were doing.

“Sorry,” you croak, suddenly mortified, “I didn’t mean to.”

“I know you didn’t mean to,” he says, “my body simply responded to the stimulation. It is always a possibility in such close quarters. Just stay still, please.”

— The rocks are digging into your knees, and despite his warning, you still try and shift for some relief, as slowly as you can, but he’s getting harder, and you can feel his hands scrambling for a grip on your hips and waist, and when he looks at you, the glint in his eyes is equal parts pleading and haggard.

— Slowly, teasingly, you roll your hips, and his head falls back against the wall of rocks behind it, eyes fluttering closed as you grind against him, the way he’s holding you so flush against him making the friction ever better.

“We shouldn’t,” he says, though his own protest sounds unconvincing as his voice drops several octaves lower, rough with lust, and especially so when his hips rise to press you even closer.

“Then why aren’t you stopping me?” You ask, wanting so badly to kiss him, and instead of answering you, he catches the back of your head, crushing your mouth against his.

— The buttons of your shirt are undone, his mouth is on your breasts as you fumble for the front of his shorts, struggling to get your own off, and he simply moves your panties aside after you’ve wrestled out of your clothing before yanking you down, stuffing you full of his thick cock.

— Your cries of pleasure are lost among the hoof beats of the Sumpter Beasts on the path above, and you share heated breath as you ride him, his hand on your waist to guide you along the length of his cock.

— His head dips down to watch where he disappears inside of you, and you feel his grip tighten on your body, feel him twitch inside of you, making you whimper.

— He’s sure to make you cum first, his thumb on your clit, muttering sweet filth into your skin as you come undone above him.

— You end up in that ravine longer than you excepted, if you couldn’t tell.

— 𝘓𝘺𝘯𝘦𝘺

— Unlike the two others, I don’t think Lyney would be as private.

— A conversation with my good friend Paprika made me realize that Lyney is probably the type of guy who goes for what he wants, and if he was interested in someone, he’d likely just show that interest without beating around the bush.

— So I wouldn’t be surprised if he invited his s/o to sit on his lap, just casually, no matter where they were.

— It’s not even sexual, really, he just likes being close to the ones he loves, and you’re no exception. He loves holding you.

— He’s very romantic, too, I’d say. He knows just what to say to get you all weak in the knees. He loves you so much. The poor guy doesn’t have many people in his life who have shown him the love that you have, and he absolutely cherishes you.

— He’d even buy out all the seats in one of the upper boxes of the Opera Epiclese, just to have you all to himself, able to hold you close and tell you just how much he adores you in the dark of the grand auditorium.

— But he’s only human, and if you were to move just right while sitting in his lap, he’s going to have a reaction.

A soft chuckle tickled your ear in the silence, and you felt Lyney’s hands on your waist, gently holding you in place.

“Stay still, please, darling.”

— He wouldn’t really try and hide it, it’s kind of hard to when you’re right there.

— He’d bite back a gasp as you shift again, almost teasing him, shooting you a warning look.

“Can I help with that?”

A soft laugh, slightly strained. “And how would you do that?”

You pressed a kiss to the curve of his jaw. “Can I show you?”

He kisses your forehead. “As long as it’s quiet. We wouldn’t want to disturb the other patrons, would we?”

— You slip down from his lap and to the floor, where you kneel, between his knees. He’s seated in the farthest chair in the box, well hidden from sight if anyone were to look his way. You wouldn’t even be visible from that vantage point.

— He realizes what you’re doing and shifts his legs farther apart to accommodate you, and when you palm him through his slacks, you get the pleasure of watching the way his jaw tightens, breath drawn in sharply through his nose.

— You make short work of his belt and zipper, and he shifts his hips to let you tug his underwear down just enough to free his dick.

— He curses quietly when you wrap your hand around him, and when you begin to slowly stroke, his head tips back against the chair.

— When your mouth presses against his tip, you feel one gloved palm against the back of your head, urging you forward, lacing into your hair when you take him into your mouth.

— You feel him twitch against the roof of your mouth as you begin to bob your head, slow and steady, almost teasing, and you can hear him gasp softly above you, see him clamp one hand over his mouth as you watch him through your lashes.

— His grip tightens on your hair, groans muffled by the hand over his mouth, and you squeeze your thighs together, letting yourself moan around him, low and soft, and that’s enough to make his hips buck against your mouth. You know you’ll pay for that when you got home.

— You speed up, and his hand fists into your hair, desperate for any kind of purchase at all, and you hardly mind, especially when it leads to him shifting forward in his seat, forcing you to take more of him, gently guiding you back, only to fill your mouth once more.

— You loosen your throat and let him take control, using your mouth as he pleases, simply content with watching the way his face twists in pleasure, teeth digging into his knuckles as he tries desperately to stay quiet, and you can tell he’s close from the way he’s leaking into your mouth, his thighs shaking, grip growing borderline painful.

— He cums hard, gushing down your throat, and it’s a wonder he stays quiet during his climax, the effort of it all clearly taking a toll on him as you watch involuntary frustrated tears bead at the corner of his eyes and catch in his pale lashes.

— You pull off as he softens, licking your lips and making a show of swallowing, something he watches with heavy-lidded, hungry eyes.

— Cheekily, you settle back into the seat with him after he tucks himself away again, careful to avoid bumping against him.

— Yeah, you didn’t end up getting much sleep after you got home that night.

The fact that this took as long as it did haunts me and I am so sorry.

ALSO I GET TO SEE PAPRIKA IN PERSON THIS FALL YAYAYAYAYAYAY!!!! I’m so excited, and I will probably cry.

[fuxuannie]

* pairing : dan heng x gender neutral reader

* prompt : dan heng is so painfully awkward, to a point march 7th herself had enough.

* authors note : this is such an old draft that it still had my idv divider.. IM SO SLEEPYYYY T_T

DAN HENG grumbles as he's sitting in The Archives on his.. rather sad excuse for a bed. He's staring at his phone, typing something out before letting out an unsatisfied sigh and deleting it in the same minute it was written.

March 7th walks in without knocking, again. Doing her signature walk towards Dan Heng and sitting on the floor infront of his blankets and pillows that were laid down on the floor. "What's up?" She asked, staring at him as he looks at his phone and back up at March 7th. "Uh.. how do you.. talk to someone?" His question sounded stupid but it was genuine, he wasn't entirely sure how to strike a conversation with you. He asked for your number, you happily gave it to him, but now he wasn't sure of his next move.

"..Is that a serious question?" March 7th laughed with a baffled expression, but Dan Heng's forced cough as a response was not helping his situation. "Okay. It's a serious question.. Oh my stars, I can't believe you're asking me how to hold a conversation.." She wiped away a non-existant tear from her eyes, before clearing her throat and acting all serious-like.

"So give me your phone."

"What??"

"Do you want help or not??"

"..Okay."

Dan Heng hands her his cellphone, and she stares at the screen before letting out an almost comical gasp. "YOU'RE TEXTING-" And before she could even finish, a hand was quick to cover her lips and a hushed 'Shhh.' followed right after. "You don't need to announce it to the whole damn station, March!" He hissed, slowly uncovering her mouth as she lets out a giggle. "Sorry. A little excited is all."

She stares at the little phone for a while, raising it up in the air and staring at it from various angles. As if a painter trying different angles to view their creations. "What are you doing..?" Dan Heng asked with a sigh, only gaining an index finger against his lips. "Have you tried saying 'Hello'? Maybe add in a 'This is Dan Heng, I wanted to ask how you were.' And such." March 7th suggested, handing the phone over to him as he stared at it in his hands. It was that simple, why was he overthinking so much?

After an unnecessarily long conversation about what to text, Dan Heng just groans into his pillow and March 7th sighs in defeat. He hears her type out a message, and doesn't completely mind, until he hears the 'Ding!' of a message being sent.

He slowly lifts his head up from the soft and comfortable pillow, eyes wide as he stares at March 7th. "What. did. you. send."

His surprisingly serious tone made March 7th burst into laughter. He immediately tries to reach back for his phone, but she's pulling away to try and keep it away. "I'm doing you a favor!!" She said inbetween laughs, but he eventually gets a hold of his dear device, but she's is far too busy clutching her stomach with how much shes been laughing.

His face shifts from shock to despair, his eyes go from his phone and back to March 7th, then his phone and March 7th again. This repeats a few times before he sighs in embarrassment. He leaves his phone ontop of the table near his bed and pinches the bridge of his nose, "Atleast they haven't seen it yet." He says, trying to remain positive. He hears March 7th stand, and she leans a little to stare at his phone. "Uh oh. They should really add a feature where you cam delete messages."

Maybe this is a sign to jump out the nearest window without a helmet.

It doesn't help that theres a knock on his door, you peek your head in and chuckle awkwardly. "I figured that this message had something to do with March, especially with the commotion you two were causing literally a few rooms away from my own."

The pink haired girl giggled, rubbing the back of her neck as she didn't bother to deny the accusation. You give her a small 'Can I have some alone time?' look, and she understands immediately, hopping off the small platform and walking past you with a wink. Somehow despite her playful nature March 7th truly had good intentions at heart, she saw Dan Heng as a brother, and she knew more than anyone you were the best candidate for his heart.

You sit next to him, as he buries his face in his knees, mumbling and grumbling random incoherent words. "Dan Heng?" You say softly while placing a hand on his shoulder, he lifting his head up but refused to meet your gaze. You chuckle slightly, ruffling his hair. "It's not as embarassing as you think, I promise."

He sighs, turning to look at you. "..It's not that it's embarassing.. I just, I really wanna talk to you but.. I'm not really good with the whole.. socializing thing." Dan Heng says with slight hesitation as he spoke, but you gently grab one of his hands, using both of your own to hold onto it. "It's okay, just take your time and talk to me when you're ready. But I mean, I'm here, aren't I? We can start there."

Finally, a smile seems to find it's way upon his lips. "Yeah.. You're right.

And right outside his door, March 7th and Himiko both do a silent high five as they finally got Dan Heng to do something about that damned crush of his.

[midnightsnyx]

that angst 😭 could write a part two where reader calls back a few weeks later to see if there’s a chance or something but another girl answers the phone? 😳

original prompt here. i freaking loved this idea and it's been in my drafts unfinished forever but i finally finished it. hope u like it <3 requests are open!

The funny thing is that you know what Taryn’s voice sounds like. You know it like the back of your hand because in the 4 years you and Matt had been together, Taryn became like a sister to you. 

Except, you panicked the moment you called Matt back a couple weeks after his drunk call and hung up as soon as you heard a female voice because you can’t. You can’t handle having your heart broken again, just because Matt drunk dialed you and you were dumb enough to call him back. So you ignored when he called you back an hour later, when he called you that night and ignored all the texts he sent, not even bothering to open them. 

It’s not until 2 in the morning while you’re laying in bed unable to sleep because there’s a nagging voice in the back of your mind wondering why that voice sounded so damn familiar that you open Matt’s texts. 

From Matty: hey call me back plz

From Matty: taryn answered my phone cuz she’s visiting with mom.

From Matty: i’m only speculating why u hung up as soon as she answered

From Matty: is it cuz u thought it was a random girl?

From Matty: sry taryn said that sounds bad 

From Matty: plz call me. taryn wants to talk to u too but she doesn’t want to bother you

From Matty: sry she told me to stop blowing up ur phone. I understand if u don’t want to call me back and i'm sorry 4 drunk dialing u. I’ll leave u alone now

You can’t help but smile at the string of text messages. Matt was always bad for sending multiple texts instead of just sending what he wanted to say in one text. It’s kind of comforting to see that hasn’t changed. 

You start to write a message, but pause, unsure what exactly to say. It’s too late in the night to call him although you’re certain he would answer it if he saw your number despite what time it is. But, he has a game tomorrow, and you don’t want to interrupt his sleep so you settle on sending a text message.

To Matty: hey

30 seconds later, your phone rings. 

Matt.

You hesitate, only for a moment before answering the call. 

“Hi,” you say quietly.

“Hey,” he replies, a little breathlessly, like he didn’t think you would answer. “I didn’t think you’d call back.” 

Neither did I, you think to yourself. 

Instead you say, “well, I did call you first.” 

He chuckles at that and you realize how much you missed that sound. It makes you want to cry a little.

“Yeah, there was a little miscommunication, I guess. Taryn felt bad, she’ll probably call you tomorrow… if that’s alright.”

“Of course.” You’d never say no to talking to Taryn, especially if she’s feeling bad for something that’s not her fault. 

Another pause and then: “why did you call me?”

The thing is, you weren’t going to call him but an opportunity arose that gives you the chance to move near him but you didn’t want to make any assumptions considering he was drunk when he called and told you he missed you. 

“I got a job offer at a Firm in Fort Lauderdale and I wasn’t going to take it, but then you called and I thought,” you pause, realizing you’re rambling. “Well, I thought maybe the reason you called wasn’t just because you were drunk.”

He hasn’t said anything so you take a deep breath. “Look, I - we can’t just pick up where we left off but I thought, maybe this could be a refresh button.”

He’s been quiet too long that you’re starting to panic when he lets out a breath like he’s been holding it in. 

“You’d really move out here?” he asks quietly, probably remembering the last argument the two of you had that essentially ended your relationship.

“It’s a good job opportunity… and I miss you too,” you admit.

It’s a risk, taking the job and moving to another country, leaving everything you know here in Calgary. It’s a leap of faith and you can’t help but wonder what will happen if it doesn’t work out but when you arrive at the airport in Fort Lauderdale and see Matt’s smiling face waiting, you begin to think about what will happen if it does work out.

[gabzlovesu]

𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘

╰ ft. kaeya alberich !

a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts for MONTHS even before i took my break from writing. and i've proofread this fic damn near 100 times but wasn't sure about posting it. i'm so sorry lol. after this i swear i'll post fics for new characters!

warnings: fem!reader, oral (fem! receiving), angsty sex, kaeya struggling to use his big boy words and tell reader how he feels (bc canon kaeya is >>> fanon kaeya, like bffr)...

word count: 1.2k

☆ PLEASE READ MY RULES/BYF BEFORE INTERACTING ! MINORS DNI ! ☆

Your thumb glides along his lip, studying the fine lines and savoring the warmth that radiates through your fingertip. Your gaze remained fixed on his lips longer than it should have, fearing that once you kissed him — once your lips met and sealed off the world around you — that he too would vanish and become nothing more than a figment of your imagination. And when you finally kissed, it was slow, every movement exaggerated to make this moment last a tad bit longer. 

That’s how things usually go whenever you dared to let love trespass the cracked and ragged walls surrounding your heart. The forbidden feeling crept in, and he crept out, going off on his own and leaving you behind with no one to share the extra space. 

So you hold on, fisting the hair above the nape of his neck and the white fabric of his shirt as you deepened the kiss, all while eliciting a deep, guttural moan from him. It was your favorite sound. The vocalization of his unspoken desire laced with something more… a bit of feral nature. His fingers dig into your hips as he pulls you closer on his lap, letting you feel what you do to him through the many layers of clothing between the two of you.

He never said those three measly words that you desperately wanted to hear, but it wasn’t like he dangled them over your head and strung you along either… they just lingered at the back of this throat where they taunted his tongue, wanting to be muttered into the crook of your neck as he held you.

Like a fool, you gave in to him completely as you’ve done countless times before, letting him fill the space between your legs the same way he occupied every inch of your mind. You didn’t stop him. You wanted him to invade your thoughts, your thighs, and every other part of you. You wanted to feel everything he couldn’t say.

“Kaeya…” Your voice trails off, as you get lost in the blue of his eyes. But you didn’t need to finish, not when you gave that lovesick look that you always did before you professed your love. And although he would never admit it, guilt welled up within him every single time. He was guilty about the fact that he couldn’t bring himself to reciprocate such a simple statement. Or maybe he was guilty about the fact that you loved him instead of someone better, someone that didn’t hide their emotions and ration out their love.

Tonight was different. Something urged him deep inside.

“It’s my turn to say it,” he says, cutting you off. Kaeya leads your hand to his mouth so that he can press a kiss into your palm before continuing. “I love you. I am so deeply in love with you Y/N that I don’t know what to do with myself. And I need you to know. ” 

He loves you. 

Kaeya loves you. 

Maybe you heard that wrong, so you just stare at him with uncertainty.

Silence.

Both of you freeze in place and the air stifles with a bit of awkward tension. You fix your mouth to say something but this time, you’re the one who is struggling to force words to come out, to provide a response. As much as he wanted you to give one, he doesn’t wait any longer. Instead, he starts littering your body with kisses like he was trying to prove his confession. 

The lower he crept down your body, the more your back arched off of the satin sheet, offering more of yourself to him as he worked his way to your hot core. Only when his mouth met your aching bud did you melt and mesh with the sheets, drowning in the smooth ocean of grey as you struggled to stay afloat in the sea of arousal.

You could’ve sworn he was mouthing the words into your cunt over and over as he devoured you, and they traveled up from your quivering lips straight to your heart where they were etched permanently — words you would never forget. They were all you focused on as he continued to make love to you. Even when he slowly sank into your heat, rocking his hips and whispering more words into your ear to accompany each thrust, but they were irrelevant words that paled in comparison to “I love you”. 

The night ended too soon as your bodies continued to tangle. And some time during your coition, the sheets were ripped from the bed so you resorted to cuddling into this toned body as a heat source. He didn’t mind, his finger idly drawing shapes into your bare back as you counted his heartbeats that thundered in his chest.

It didn’t matter how much you flushed your body against him though. There was still a small possibility that he would be gone by dawn’s first light, leaving as swiftly and quietly as the night had set…and maybe you were okay with that. You didn’t expect for him to stick around, to see that coy smile when you woke in the morning, especially not after what he said tonight. The calvary captain would probably drown himself in work and pretend you didn’t exist for a few days so he could mull over his feelings with a bottle of liquor and get his head straight. But you were okay with that — it was normal.

The cold, empty space next to you in the morning was enough to convince you. Your heart cracking a little more, letting the love start to leak without anyone to catch it. Part of you did expect him to stay, just for once. 

At least he had the decency to drape his fur-lined cape over your naked form, the white fur tickled your nose and caused you to wake from your slumber. You slowly climb off the bed, wrapping the cape around yourself as you take in the mess on the floor: your clothes scattered around, pillows thrown about, and the sheets lay jumbled at the foot of the bed. A sigh escapes your lips and then your eyes look to the billowing curtains, realizing that the balcony doors were open to the morning breeze. 

What you found behind the curtains was shocking, bringing goosebumps to your skin along with the crisp Mondstat air. There was Kaeya, standing at the rail glowing in the golden hue of the morning sun as it peaked out from behind the horizon. He was ethereal.

If Khaenri’ah did have a god, you imagined it would be fashioned after him.

 It didn’t take long for him to notice your presence, and while he did hesitate at first — gauging your feelings about last night — he eventually slinked over to you. He let his arms fall in place around you, second nature it seemed, before locking lips. 

It was a goodbye kiss since he had to report to headquarters soon, but it was also a promise to return later. You could tell from the way he extended the deep kiss, usually it was a quick peck and he was gone. This time he pulled you in and french kissed you until his lungs burned for air. 

With a stroke of his thumb across your lip while admiring your eyes, mimicking you from last night, he departed silently out the door. You stood there with a stupid grin plastered on your face as you held the cape tight and ran your fingers over the exact spot his thumb grazed moments prior.

TAGLIST FORM

tags: @hungrynessforfics @rinhoes @indiecursor @protectpancakes @fight-me-bitch @nneedynymph @po3ticb3auty @haitani-plague  @festive @apollostears @thenerdyrebel @4ngrysgf @daichisbunnybaby @urwifey2 @picayunne @kookieflvr @woahhajime @syomi @chrolloderulo @kutosznn @takemichiluvr @sweeneyblue1 @tyga-lily @jeanslove @getoswhore @thicksimpx @sakurashell @38riku @hyeque @wiserebelpartypie @sleepy3 @yuujilove @imperatorkhaleesi @sukunas-left-nut-sack @lawscorazon @sailewhoremoon @chaoticevilbakugo @xxrwzy @wh0reforlevi @nekoriots @yeagerfushiguro @chaotic-fangirl-blog @sftbunny-blog @dukina @momoewn @thithesandofferings @justdevine @hyeque @chittakii @breyspage

[poemsforparker]

tongue tied - tasm!peter × reader (college!au)

marvel masterlist

pairing: peter parker × gn!reader

summary: Peter lets a drunk confession slide during an after party you took care of him. He didn't remember anything so he didn't understand your behaviour the next day.

tropes: best friends to lovers, drunk confessions ‹3

warnings: mentions of alcohol

a.n.: I missed writing for my ultimate boyfriend SO MUCHH. I missed writing in general for this profile, but I’m backk, I have about 6 drafts yet to finish including 2 requests that had been sitting here for ages (rlly sorry ab that whoever asked for  them I really was overwhelmed for the last 5 months lmao), anyways if you’re reading this still I love you already, enjoy this lil drabble <3.

You entered your apartment nearly falling by Peter's weight almost entirely supported on you, he'd crossed the line and the bastard was lucky to have a best friend like you.

"Can you sit by yourself?" you ask worried looking at him, who had the silliest smile since you entered the elevator. "What is it?"

"You look gorgeous."

Trying your hardest to remember this was drunk Peter talking, you shake out the embarrassment and slightly nudging his arm. "Stop. Sit down, I'm grabbing you a blanket for you to sleep here, and a bucket, just in case."

You make your way to the room grabbing a blanket Peter always used on sleepovers at your place. Taking a blue old bucket on your way, you get to the living room, showing up to the view of a drunk Peter mumbling songs on your couch.

"Here," you place the blanket on him, pointing at the bucket on the floor right after. "Please just don't puke on my carpet. I'll leave you some painkillers and water by the couch. Anything you need you know where to find me. G'night, Pete." You kiss his forehead before walking out and have your arm grabbed, forcing you to stop.

"Thank you, you're so sweet. Sometimes I really want to kiss you." He speaks lazily and with a boyish smile never leaving his stupidly handsome face.

You played that phrase on your head over and over again, your heart racing on your chest thinking if Peter would even remember what he said to you.

It killed you to know that meant so much to you mean while Peter could only be mouthing random words lead out by the large amount of alcohol in his blood system.

You're awaken from your thoughts when you hear his loud yawn from the living room, probably a moment before he feels a terrible headache. You get up and go face him as if nothing happened, hoping he'd get back to the subject himself if he remembered it.

He didn't.

Peter spent his day acting fully normal to you, something you're sure he'd never be able to pull up such an act if he had any idea what he said the night earlier. To your surprise, you were really disappointed by that.

You always had feelings towards Peter, never really stopping to think about how it'd really be if you were a couple. Not until yesterday, when it felt so near reality, and you did not feel scared at all, as you thought it would be. In fact, the way you liked that idea just opened your eyes to how badly you had fallen for Peter long earlier, and the thought was eating you alive.

He was so kind, so caregiving, respectful and absolutely breathtaking, who wouldn't fall for him? Silly of you to think you'd scape that.

"What do you think?" Peter says excited about something you had no idea what since you'd been zoning out, taken by intrusive thoughts of kissing him right then and there.

"What?"

"C'mon, it must be like the third time you're not paying attention to what I'm saying today. What's up with you, bug?"

"Have you ever thought of us as a couple?" You let out not really aware of the words, just letting out what was in your head. Damn you for getting used to be fully honest to him.

"I, uh- um... What?"

"No- never mind I just- was thinking too loud... I guess." In embarrassment, you stare at the ceiling, which seemed suddenly more interesting that this conversation right now.

"I know this didn't came out of nowhere." You can hear he's smiling. He puts his hand slightly pulling your chin down to look at him. "What did I do?"

“You did nothing, Pete.”

“Oh, c’mon, I know you and I know my drunk self better than this, I must’ve  done something to lead to this.” He slides his thumb mindlessly on your cheeks while waiting for a response. “C’mon, say it.”

"Last night" you heavily sigh, in disbelief you were actually talking about this with Peter "you said sometimes you felt like kissing me." closing your eyes shut you think how you ended up here having this conversation with your best friend. "It just... Stayed in my head I guess." you shrug as if it wasn't much and see Peter's cheeks gain a heated tone of red, a sudden worried look showing up to his beautiful hazel eyes.

"Did I say that? God, I'm sorry, bug. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable around me." he leans closer, holding your hands and kissing them. "I'm really sorry, that won't happen again." you smile at his reaction, the first thought that came to his mind being nothing but your well being.

"I didn't say I got uncomfortable." you grin taking your hands out of his.

"You're not?"

“No.” you shake your head, still not helping your smile and now feeling your cheeks heat up "I just wanted to know if that's a genuine thought of yours or just drunk Peter spilling random stuff as always.” you chuckle. “I kinda of have an idea myself but I want to hear it from you."

“Oh... I see.” he shrinks his eyes as if studying your expression before saying a word more. “And what are your thoughts on this? Honestly.”

“Honestly?” you pull the last drop of braveness inside of you before the next sentence. “I sort of wanted it to be true.” you try to act like you said nothing much by not looking him in the eye and trying to shrug. Truth was, if he was still holding them, he’d feel your hands dripping sweat.

Peter gasps. “rEallY?” his voice fails like a twelve year old and he clears his throat to ask again, in embarassment “Really?”

You laugh a bit at him while nodding “Yeah.”

“Well, the we can make it happen.” he gives you a one sided smile while his eyebrows went up and down in a rhythm, making  you giggle at his childish acts.

“You’re such a dork.” while saying that, you lean closer to him now being mere inches away.

“A dork that you love.” and without giving you any time for an answer, that Peter could prevent being something along the lined of ‘don’t be so convinced’, he closes the space between you, joining his soft lips on yours. “You have no idea how long I waited for this.”

“Then just shut up and kiss me more.”

tags: @rudy-the-winged-wolf

[metalbuckaroo]

Sweetheart

Summary// Bucky gets played at his own game

Warnings// fluff, angst, smut, unprotected sex, light mentions of violence and guns (no full detail just mentions), Bucky ‘handling it’, cursing, maybe a lil toxic

AU// mafia!bucky x f!reader

Note// I’m soooo fucking behind on everything and this has been sitting damn near finished in my drafts for weeks, if not months. As I’m posting this on my lunch break it’s not proof read, sorry 😅

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Series Masterlist

18+ ONLY MINORS DNI

You knew how to play it when you saw Bucky walking towards the front doors. Glancing over at Mavis who bit her lips into her mouth to stifle a laugh.

“What time are you off?” He said, leaning his palms against your desktop.

“Four. Why?” You said crossing your legs as you sat back in your chair.

“I was thinking we could finally have that dinner.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, folding your arms across your chest and cocking your head to the side. “What makes you think I’d want to have dinner with you?”

Any sign of a smile fell from Bucky’s face. “Maybe New Years.” He said as if it were obvious, narrowing his eyes at you.

“What happened New Years?” Mavis stifled another laugh before Bucky glared at her and she put her hands up in defense before standing from her desk. Leaving just you and Bucky in the lobby.

He walked around to lean against the edge of your desk in front of you. “Do I need to refresh your memory?” He said, reaching his hand out to pull back the collar of your blouse slightly.

“Yeah, I think you were dreaming.” You tested, a dark chuckle rumbling from his chest as he shook his head.

“Well played, sweetheart. Well played.”

Bucky walked out to his car, eyeing the blacked out car across the street as he opened the passenger door.

“I take it things didn’t go as planned?” Steve said when Bucky got in.

“When do they ever.”

Bucky had been mid-meeting when he got the call from one of his men that had seen the news before him. Panic surging through him as he grabbed his keys, leaving Sam in charge as Steve trailed behind him.

“You need to slow down.” Steve said, gripping the door handle as Bucky sped through traffic, screeching to a stop at the police block off in front of your building.

The panic that had bubbled in his chest was unmatched, something he’d never felt before as he walked closer to the building, ignoring the police that told him to stop.

Every window was broken, EMTs scattered to evaluate everyone’s condition. His pounding heart not calming until he saw you being guided out of the building.

“Are you okay?” He asked, getting a harsh glare when he reached his hands out towards you.

“Get the hell away from me.” You seethed, his stomach lurching at your tone.

“Sweetheart-”

His protest died on his tongue when you pulled away from the EMT, spinning around to face him. “This is your fault, James.”

His hands dropped back to his sides, eyebrows furrowed as he watched you follow the paramedic.

“She okay?” Steve asked as he walked towards the brunette. “Yeah- figure out who did this.”

Bucky hesitated to open the door of your room at the hospital. Heart wrenching when he saw you sitting on the side of the bed, butterfly tape on the cut on your cheek.

“Why’d you do it?” He stopped in his tracks at the bland tone, wetting his lips as he shook his head.

“Do what?”

“Order the hit on my work.” You said through gritted teeth, finally looking at him.

“I don’t- I didn’t do that.” Bucky insisted, stepping closer.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes as you stood and faced him. “I’m not stupid, James. I know what you do, what the meetings are about. I’m an assistant. But… all because I played the same mind game as you? Pathetic.”

“Listen, it’s my fault that it happened, but it wasn’t me.”

You looked at him for a moment, trying to gauge whether he was lying or not before you sat back down. But, the uneasy feeling still hadn’t let up in Bucky’s stomach as he ran a hand down his face.

“I need…” he inhaled a deep breath, looking up at the ceiling. “I need you to come home with me tonight.”

“Not happening.” You mumbled, looking to the glossy floor as he started pacing.

“Steve hasn’t figured out who the hell this is, you are staying with me.”

You cocked an eyebrow at the demanding tone. “No, I’m going home.” You said calmly, a soft knock at the door catching his attention.

“Just need you to sign a couple things so we can get you out of here.” The nurse said, holding a clipboard out to you.

“You’re staying with me.” Bucky said lowly when the nurse walked out.

“I’m fine.”

“You were shot at!” He boomed, anger flaring in his eyes before he took another deep breath.

“I’m fine, James.” You said slowly, Bucky going back to his pacing.

“Just stay with me for the night so I can make sure you’re safe.”

You rolled your eyes, rubbing your palms against your skirt. “You ever gonna stop pacing?”

“Not until I handle this.” He muttered, scratching his stubbled jaw. “I gotta- I gotta handle it, so I know you’re okay.”

“What does it matter?!”

Bucky flinched slightly at your sudden change of tone, leaning his hands against the footboard. “People going after someone in my life just doesn’t sit right with me.”

“Someone in your life? Last I checked I’m not exactly in your life.” You corrected, watching as he stood straight again and started towards the door.

“Fine, have it your way. I’ll handle it.”

You huffed a breath when you saw the familiar car parked across the street from your apartment building. Bucky picking up on the second ring when you called his phone.

“If you’re going to sit outside my apartment the least you could do is be a little more discreet.” You quipped, leaning your palm against the windowsill.

“If you were actually paying attention, you’d know I’m not sitting outside your apartment.” He retorted.

“I see your car, jackass.” You snapped, narrowing your eyes at it.

“Open the door.” The line clicked off and your arms fell to your sides in defeat, going to unlock the front door.

“What happened to you?” You asked when you saw Bucky on the other side of the door with a busted right hand and exhausted expression.

“I told you I’d handle it.”

“Hand looks busted.” You pointed out, raising your eyebrows at him.

“It’s fine.” He mumbled with a shrug.

“Come in.”

Gathering cotton pads and disinfectant, you gestured for him to sit on one of the stools. Soaking one of the cotton pads with the liquid before taking his hand in yours.

“So, did you handle it?” He cleared his throat slightly and nodded.

“Yeah- My hand is fine.” He mumbled, going to pull it away before you shot him a look and went back to silently cleaning the scrapes.

Bucky didn’t say anything for a moment when you were done, heavy left hand lifting to rest on your hip as he looked at you. “Thank you.” He said quietly, wetting his lips. “Can I stay? Just to be sure.”

Inhaling a deep breath through your nose, your raised your hands to lock your fingers at the back of his neck before nodding in agreement. Leaning forward to lock your lips in his briefly, pulling away only to be tugged back in.

His hands gripped your backside as his tongue slipped into your mouth, slowly standing and backing you towards your bedroom door.

“Need you, sweetheart.” He huffed against your jaw, arm going around your back to brace you against him. Your arms tightening around his shoulders when the backs of your legs hit the edge of the mattress, Bucky letting you take him with you onto the bed.

“You have me.” You murmured, slipping your hands down to work at the buttons of his dress shirt. Groaning when you couldn’t seem to get them undone quick enough as his teeth nipped your collarbone.

It was hungrier than previous encounters. Hands pawing at clothes as both of you grew more impatient-

The flimsy shorts you worn torn at the sides along with your underwear, the last few buttons of his shirt now missing from the fabric and slacks shoved off in a haste with his briefs.

Your bottom lip knocked the tip of his nose, head tipping back in a gasped out moan from the abrupt snap of his hips. No warning or easing in- just a euphoric spark coursing your veins as he filled you to the brim and quickly found a ruthless pace.

The slide of his thick cock against your walls had your mind reeling within moments, metal fingers digging into your cheeks as he fucked perfectly into the deepest sweet spot.

“Look at me, sweet girl.” Bucky huffed, choking on a moan when your cunt fluttered around him. “Open those eyes, I wanna see you.”

Peeling your heavy lids open, the look in his eye alone could’ve sent you over the edge. Hungry and lustful, with something else hidden in them. Something needier as his hips rutted into yours.

“Are you mine?” Your nails curled into his back to distract him from the lack of an answer. A deep groan sounding from his lips as the light sting raked down his skin. “Answer me, sweetheart.”

It felt crazy to give him what he wanted so easily. But, there was something in the way he made you feel. A security that was unexplainable and a comfort behind slate blue eyes that.

Or, maybe it was the unmatched bliss that surged through you as his hips met yours. Working you to the very edge when the sputter out ‘yes’ tumbled out. Hungry lips finding yours as he chased his own high, teeth knocking together when he started to lose his rhythm and spilled into you with a low moan.

Slowly moving away, Bucky laid next to you. Propping himself up on his forearm and pressing his fingertips to your cheek for you to turn your head towards him. Glossy eyes peaking open at him before he pressed a brisk kiss to your lips.

“Do I really have you, sweetheart?” He murmured, nudging the tip of your nose with his.

“I’ll have to think about it.”

[kawowoa]

housewardens helping you take your braids out pt.2

synopsis : it’s been 3 months since you’ve gotten your braids done. it’s finally the day you’ve been dreading; the day you have to take them out. luckily, your dear boyfriend is (hopefully) there to help! hopefully he’ll make the process more quick and fun!

info : black reader, gn. reader, maybe ooc for vil

characters : vil , idia , malleus , azul

a/n : okay finally here’s part 2!! (read part 1 here if you haven’t yet) sorry this took so long, i accidentally deleted the draft n had to rewrite everything zzzz

> vil schoenheit

vil had everything you needed to take them out, stuff you hadn’t thought about using too! oil? he got it, different types of combs and brushes? check, even a damn spray bottle mixed with leave in conditioner and water

before y’all even start taking the braids out, he drags you to the pomefiore bathrooms to wash your scalp and roots. he’ll go on and on about how you need to wash your braids at least once a month to prevent the gel buildup and how it soothes an itchy scalp!

he’d be the type to section off your braids, maybe four parts. he’ll tell you it’s to make sure you don’t miss a single braid

don’t even think about unraveling a single braid without some oil on your fingers, at least not around vil. he’ll smack your hand away and dump the oil bottle in your hands

never again will you take your braids out alone. god, vil makes everything more enjoyable. he’ll massage your back and hands whenever they start to hurt, if you get hungry he has snacks (never the good kinds but it’ll do)

when it comes to knots, vil would be so gentle. he’ll spray the hair before using a detangling brush. if he tugs too hard by accident, he’ll mutter an apology before continuing

just like leona, when they’re a few braids left, he’ll start to braid down your natural hair. but my god his braids hurts, he might as well braid your thoughts while he’s at it. if you complain their food tight, he’ll just say beauty is pain

> idia shroud

when you asked for his help, he was unsure if he wanted too. a new event boss was coming out that night! he needed to prepare but boyfriend duties come first

being a total shut in, he was very uneducated on taking out braids. occasionally he’d seen the videos you posted on your magicam story involving this stuff, but 9 times out of 10 he didn’t pay that much attention to it

nonetheless, you still explained the process to him without him needed to ask. how hard could this be anyway, to him, it was like beating a level 1 boss at player level 80. or so he thought

he was so scared to touch your hair. you could tell him a million times it’s okay and he’ll still hesitate, so much for that confidence he had

eventually he was comfortable enough to help you, not without something to calm his nerves though. playing his favorite movie helped a lot!

idia’s hands are fast. once he gets into a rhythm, the normal time it takes you to finish gets cut town by an hour or three. maybe it’s from all that typing and gaming he does, who knows

being such a considerate boyfriend, he brushes your hair for you. he’ll put your hair in a low ponytail (a style he sees a lot on your magicam story too) with his blue ponytail holder. he’ll even put his in a low ponytail too so y’all can match

> malleus draconia

anything you need help with, malleus is there so of course he’ll help you take your braids out

although, he did suggest using magic to have the braids gone in an instant but you shut that idea down. no magic is ever getting near your hair

he may never did this before, but he’s old and smart so he understands what to do without you explaining anything. the one thing he didn’t understand what cutting the braid, isn’t that worst than magic? he was still a teeny bit confused when you told him it’s not real hair but whatever, he just doesn’t use the scissors

he’ll tell you he read about some of the cultural background of braids (hours after you asked him, the two of you set up a time for him to come and help) , telling you about the new information he learned. he’ll ask you if the information is correct, if it is, he’ll memorize it, if not, he’ll ask you to correct him

honestly, expect him to take longer to undo one braid. he’s being slow on purpose, the longer he takes; the longer he gets to spend time with you

if it takes up the whole night because of him, oh well, he doesn’t care and neither do you

when you eventually finish, he’ll massage your scalp, brush your hair, even play in it. maybe he laced the brush or his hands with a sleeping spell (if that’s even possible) cause goddamn you were one second away from falling asleep

> azul ashengrotto

did you really expect him to agree without him getting anything in return? just ‘cause your his lover doesn’t mean your exempt from his shady business dealer things

the two of you had to start once the lounge closed, which wasn’t too late but knowing how much hair you have plus the amount of braids (depending on what size you prefer) you knew it was going to take a while

knowing azul, he’d take this opportunity to propose a business deal; a new salon within nrc, with you as a co-founder. you thought it was a strange idea but you still agreed, just to humor him

the two of you would converse a lot, talking about anything and everything. hours would go by and you wouldn’t even realize you’re half way finished

any knots he comes across, he’ll have you tend to it. he doesn’t want to mess up or cause you any pain

azul would also be fast at unbraiding. if you’re talking too long on one braid, he’ll take over and ask you to just start on another one

he’ll definitely complain about the mess when the two of you are finished. he’ll be super dramatic about how there’s hair everywhere when there really isn’t, just a pile of hair sitting on the desk

once you both finish cleaning, he’ll remind you of payment. what is it? oh, you have to stay over for the night

[gabessquishytum]

Ok so we may have an issue… the idea of that hysterical literature au has wormed its way into my brain and I think I maybe have a completely new kink? Unfortunate, as there’s like… not too much content like that, but god does it something special for me. anyways, Ive been thinking:

What if Dream’s never revealed his face or anything else about himself, he’s incredibly well known but also incredibly secretive. He reaches out to Hob’s agent. (And then watches through more of hob’s content, falling a bit more for hob’s easy smile and kind demeanor every time.)

On Hob’s side of things he’s just finished this project with a book he adores, he’s gone back and read through Dream’s book twice after filming, checked out what he could from the local library, and ordered the rest. He’s just so so enamored with the prose (and maybe a bit with the secretive writer). The video was a smash hit, and he’s been inundated with requests for more already. Then his agent calls, tells him that the author of the book reached out. Hob completely didn’t expect that, he’s gained a fairly devoted following, but he isn’t a Big Name or anything. He’s a bit worried at first, Was Dream upset? Did he want to sue or have it taken down? And then he gets told that dream would like to talk about doing more things with his books together? hob nearly faints in response. His agent (Matthew? Jessamy? Lucienne? Death? I’m partial to death maybe) has to make sure he’s not dead or in shock. He spends damn near a whole day just processing this information, and then responds with only slightly curbed enthusiasm. The two exchange words and ideas, both crushing helplessly on the other and consistently (and a bit guiltily) masturbating to each other’s body of works. there’s so much potential for feelings, smut, pining, a bit of mental anguish, and a healthy dose of shenanigans along the way

This could end any number of ways!

Maybe at some point Dream sees Hob in the pasta aisle of the grocery store, or at a favorite small local restaurant. He immediately leaves or hides or runs away, blushing furiously, but not before Hob sees him.

Maybe one of them writes up an overly indulgent never-to-be-sent email draft expressing their feelings. Only to have it accidentally send. Maybe they meet at a fancy event and hook up.

Maybe there’s meddling on the part of their respective agents.

who knows!

Love,

💍 anon

AMAZING!!!!! Just. Omg. This au is SO good and I’m so pleased you’ve expanded on it here!! I’m obsessed.

Just. All the feelings that must be going on!!! Hob is half in love with Dream just through reading his books, and even though they’ve never met he’s just absolutely captivated by him. As they exchange emails, Hob just can’t work out why Dream is being so cool and nice to him, and enthusiastic about the project!!! Hob adores his career and is very proud of what he’s achieved, but he expects that someone like Dream would look down on his life choices and be rather judgemental. But Dream is polite, interested, always keen to take Hob’s point of view when they work together. Hob is still doing other shoots but he’s constantly thinking about Dream, his books, his way with words. It’s an obsession at this point.

Dream is in the exact same mental state!!! Hob is constantly sending him drafts of their collaborative project to get his opinion on the quality of the reading, the amount of build-up towards each climax, even his outfit! Poor Dream is trying to offer a professional, artistic opinion but he can’t even think about it properly until he’s wrung himself dry of orgasms. He’s a complete disaster and all he wants to do is write about Hob… so he does. He makes Hob into the protagonist in his latest novella, about a man who is driven to ecstasy when he hears the music of a certain composer. It’s… a thinly viewed depiction of real life.

And when Dream finishes the draft, he sends it off to Matthew for a read-through. Or at least he means to send it to Matthew. Instead, it ends up attached to his latest email to Hob, and he doesn’t realise until it’s too late.

Does Hob work out that Dream has written this new story about him? Unfortunately he’s a little bit oblivious… until he records himself reading it just like he’s done with the other stories, and he suddenly gets a very pleasant bolt of post-nut clarity and finally realises that maybe he does have a shot with Dream after all <3

[bleuflowerfields]

author's note:

ulymon and shitty pick-up go brr

had this sitting in my drafts so why not post it before new years

enjoy!

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

"Damon just walked up to me and is trying to speak to me on some matter. However, I don't feel like interacting with him today…" Ulysses murmured whilst scribbling those same words into his notebook.

"You do know that I can hear you, right?" The subject of the notebook entry had awkwardly mentioned, seated near him. However, Ulysses seemed to care less, only focused on his journal entry.

The only response coming from him was a subsequent "Mmmm," while he paid no mind to acknowledging Damon. He continued jotting down his entry, muttering the words to himself before putting it on paper. "...honestly, I don't think that I can. I can't even talk to him without looking at his damn pretty face-"

That made Damon double-check his hearing for a second. What did he just say?

"Wait, hold on. My…face?"

"What- oh. What exactly was it that I said about your face again?" He asked.

"You called my face…pretty?"

"Yeah." Ulysses had promptly answered, after Damon had been clearly confused about what he just muttered to himself.

"...thank you for the compliment." He had finally finished, obviously trying to escape the currently very awkward topic at hand.

However, Ulysses noticed that he had the slightest hint of pink on his cheeks.

Noting that, he had wanted to say something to spare him any further embarrassment, before Damon interrupted him again.

"Actually, shit. Pretend I never said that. If what you're saying isn't false, then explain." He quickly covered for his previous thanks, leaving that slight moment of weakness to the wind. If he wanted an explanation, he could have one, Ulysses supposed.

"Well, to briefly explain, it's from a primary source, an expert opinion."

"Which would be?"

"Myself." Ulysses confidently answered, before looking away from Damon and down at his notebook again. "That's all the explanation you need, right?"

"Okay, if that was supposed to be some kind of weird pick up line…it was really crappy."

"Your face says otherwise." Ulysses had pointed out, Damon's face changing from a light pink to a slightly darker shade, after realizing that Ulysses' words were very much true.

He didn't show it, however. "...damn it. You smartass." He seethed.

"Thanks." Ulysses had halfheartedly replied, soon returning to his writing, while Damon whipped his head to the side, attempting (yet failing) to hide his now- flustered face from Ulysses.

The only thing he heard from Damon the rest of their time together was him grumbling and muttering about how pretty his face was, instead.

He could manage with that.

[crystaldwightsworld]

I know its been like 2 years since you updated Nerve so sorry if this is annoying!! But i just finished reading chapter 2 yesterday and today i accidentally found your tumblr account?!?! I'm so shocked, I think it was fate haha 😄

So anyway, I found myself thinking about your story for the whole day. I really love your writing style. I couldn't look away from the screen. You perfectly captured Ashley's emotions, I could feel her pain and her hesitancy towards Leon. And Leon... he's so gentle and tactful. He instantly makes you feel safe.

I just wanted to thank you for writing this, I noticed that you seem a bit unsure if your stories are good (you mentioned rewriting it a lot of times 😅) and I just want to tell you that THEY ARE AMAZING!!! You are very talented and I hope you have lots of motivation and inspiration to write more great stories in the future. ❤

No need to apologise, it's far from annoying. Maybe fate, maybe not, I did link to my tumblr on some of the chapters in my fics (actually went back and linked to it on all of them since I realized I hadn't been doing it lol).

It still baffles me that I get so many comments on the story and messages here on tumblr. You're not the first person to message me about it lol. Baffled because... you're right, I don't think it's that good xD. I know Leon x Ashley is far from the popular pairing but that's exactly why I started the story/ies. Not a lot of ppl write for them specifically and not a lot of ppl like Ashley to begin with.

I'm glad you like the story. I took a BIG gamble on that second chapter, speaking from Ashley's POV for most of it and sprinkling in a little bit of Leon's as well. I'm doing my best to keep them in what is in my mind, in character. Is a lot of it made up and merely speculation? Of course it is, we only know so much from lore and the games. I had thought ppl were going to hate it though, POV chatter from a character tends to piss ppl off for some reason...

2 years... yikes lol. Trust me, I'm just as disappointed as the fans of the fic are. The inspiration is there, stories that I'd like to write, one offs, au's, things that I already have started sitting in Docs, it's just finding the motivation. I've kind of lost my flow recently, IDK why. Nerve has some deep and dark subjects present in the story as well so it's a little difficult for me to write about something I've never experienced or have no experience in. It's a miracle if I can go back to the third chapter and manage to whip out a few sentences. Chapter three has been sitting in my Google Docs for quite some time, along with the other chapters or drabbles that I want included in the story. I've said it before but Leon and Ashley is always in the back of my mind, always on my mind in some form or another. Always reminded that I need to get the next chapter out. The new RE4 remake coming has really rekindled my interest, I'm really looking forward to seeing Leon and Ashley again. I'm hoping for more bonding moments, more banter, idle chatter and conversation. I about damn near cried at the second trailer reveal and game play footage. That spark is back, that nervous excitement you get in your tummy that burns (in a good way) with fluttering butterflies... I cannot wait to see them again lol.

I'm not going to guarantee when the next chapter will come out. I really have no idea. I can't write unless I'm feeling it and forcing myself to do it any other time just leaves me sitting there staring dumbfoundedly at the draft, knowing exactly what I want to say but unable to get it out into words on the screen. I guess... we'll see. I'm not giving up on it though, I refuse.

Thank you for taking the time to write to me. I'm very doubtful of myself and the stories so finding messages or comments from peeps that really enjoy the stories really reminds me that I'm too hard on myself.

To keep spirits up, I will reveal something from the fic but as always, it's always subject to change. I try to give out mini drabbles of things I'm for certain I want in the story.

Chapter 3

“Ashley?” He voices his greeting gently from above, hoping that it wouldn’t startle her. Her eyes peel open, finding Agent Kennedy standing over her in the dimly lit room. She acknowledges his being with a forced tiny smile followed by a pained whimper, the cramps from her period giving her hell. The headache had lessened but her head still throbbed, her pelvic region felt heavy with pressure and she kept sweating due to the frequent hot flashes. 

“You’re up early, graham cracker.” He says, the silly nickname making her grin as her tired eyes fall to the wall behind him. “Dumb question but you okay?”

Her throat is dry, feeling as if it would almost cave in on itself. She forces her gaze back up to his but only for a moment to shake her head no, reverting her stare back. 

“No? Do I need to get a hold of Marc?” Leon offers. Again, she shakes her head.

“No talking kind of day, huh?” 

Ashley had had a few of them and Leon had grown used to them. He knew better to bother anyone when all they wanted was to be left alone. He had experienced many days like that himself. She makes a pained expression, teetering on the edges of wince and bothered before shaking her head no again.

She sits up slightly, keeping the hot pack in place as she moves to the middle of the bed. She doesn’t ask and she doesn’t tell but only reaches her hand out for Leon’s, her fingers folding easily into his palm. She pulls for him, motioning for him to take the spot next to her. He smirks but doesn’t take it right away, the caution and hesitancy hard in his gaze. Her tired gaze grants him permission, tugging his arm forward again. He relents, taking the open spot next to her, leaving one leg to hang off the edge.

“Lay.” She mutters in her sleepy drawl and the request takes Leon by surprise.

“You’re being brave today, Ash.” He comments, watching her pat against the sheets to gesture for him to join her. Against his better judgment, he obliges and takes his spot, turning to lay back comfortably, the warmth from where she was radiating through his blazer jacket. 

Was it a good idea? Probably not. She doesn’t say anything though and neither does he, sharing their quiet moment together, the warmth of her beside him and the dim light of the room pulling at sleep strings he much longed to fall back into. He stared up at the ceiling, nothing but the sound of commercials and her breath meeting his ears. It was… nice. Peaceful.

<3

[allovertheplace-writing]

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"A rush, a glance, a touch, a dance"

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Fire Emblem Three Houses

Character(s): Ferdinand

Genre: Fluff

Type: Drabble(Was Meant to Be a Oneshot :C)

Description: A Dance with Ferdinand

Warning(s): Soft Enemies to Lovers, Reader is Heavily Implied to Not Like Ferdinand, Pre-Timeskip, Title is from The Song "City of Stars", Bitter Reader, Sylvain is Mentioned, Dorothea is Mentioned, Slight Sylvain Slander(I Love Him I Swear it), 493 Words (It was Supposed to Be More SOBS-)

I've had this sitting in my drafts for AGES(since may 21st, 2022) and I think it's time I release it into the wild sldnks sad thing is... I never finished it TuT

Despite it's incompleteness, I hope you enjoy it all the same!! (Feedback would be great, too, if you can! \^°^/)

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Twas simply simple. Ferdinand, a man of charm and equal grace, was to teach you the art of dancing. He insisted despite any sayings of being able to dance, others, and himself, held him in high regards to it after all. No one could be better than him apparently. You scowled to yourself, "How imprudent."

Forced to do an activity with someone who doesn't listen and is far too arrogant for his own good, not to mention the dislike you held for him, is anything but exciting. Couldn't he leave you alone for once? It had always been proper etiquette this, wrong technique that- he'd always find something wrong. He'd always find a way to breath down your back and it was infuriating.

"My, I thought you'd be late, but here you are." The way he stood tall and spoke with poise only further irritated you. He was no where near perfect yet he'd act so. "I'm no prune, unlike you." He shook his head before you even finished your sentence, knowing you would jab at him one way or another out of spite. He frowned, as if he hadn't done the same moments before, "How many times must I tell you to be polite?" If you hadn't been glaring before, you were now. "You've said it so much that I have your damned voice ingrained in my mind, it's a pain." Luckily he wasn't Sylvain, or else he might've slipped a "so you think of me when I'm gone?" into the conversation. "Maybe if you listened you wouldn't find me scolding you." Another sigh fell from his lips as he brought a hand to his face. "..can we just get this over with?" You huffed, shuffling your feet against the smooth tile beneath them.

The way he grasped your hands, leading them to their proper places, was strange, tingly in a way. Though the proximity you had to maintain was nothing less of unbearable. Feeling his breath dance across your skin just about made you grimace, it was hard to tell if it was because you could smell the citrus he ate earlier or the fact that it tickled. You were tempted to step on his shoes, and you almost did when you messed up a step, but you decided against it. There was zero doubt in your mind that he'd know it was no accident. Dorothea was the one to find out how oblivious he truly was.. and he wasn't really. Both of you disliked him, for varying reasons, and would often rant about the dumb thing he chided you both on that day.

"Careful." He steadied you after a sudden tip, your feet had slightly stumbled over one another. You would've been fine without his help, you knew, yet you found yourself mumbling a thank you. The way your heart raced, the rush that crashed into you stole your breath for just a second - it was familiar but equally foreign.

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[veruindigo]

Relax - Chapter 1: Stress Relief

//FGO - Blackbeard|Edward Teach x Reader NSFW

//Modern AU

//Originally posted on my AO3 on 8-21

"Uhuhuhu!"

"Edward?" I looked up, surprised at my lover's sudden cry. Putting down my phone, I walked to his chair and placed my hands on his shoulders, massaging it gently. "What's wrong?"

He grumbled, his hand scratching his beard. "The draft," he replied, sighing. "I already have a hundred ideas on the spicy parts , but coming up with a plot for these characters is leaving me stumped. I've been writing and rewriting this one damn scene for hours now, but it's not coming out the way I want it to.“

Well, this is a surprise. This was one of the few, and rare, occasions wherein Edward was having a writer's block when it comes to his works. Usually he wrote these things with light speed, going through several pages with gusto and his nose thoroughly bleeding by the end. He enjoyed his job, after all, especially when the job in question allowed him to be as big of a pervert he wanted to be. I was feeling a little sorry for him with his current predicament. He was known for his pretty outrageous storylines, and while a lot of them didn't make sense, they were definitely entertaining, so I can imagine he was feeling some sort of pressure to reach the expectations people had for his works, in addition to the current pressure he had from his editor and publisher.

”Who reads porn for the plot anyway?“ I asked, giggling. ”I'm kidding. Well, is there any way I can help?“

”I'm not sure..."

I hummed, nodding my head. He must be tired. And with my hands on his shoulders right now, I could feel that he was quite tense.

“Why don't you take a break?” I asked, embracing him from behind as I placed a small kiss on his cheek. “I could give you a massage, if you'd like.”

“...Yes, please.”

He must be really out of it to not be practically bounding at the proposal. Usually he would've answered an excited yes before I even got to finish asking the question. Taking his hand, I gently dragged him to the bed. I started to undress him, first taking off his shirt, then his pants, and finally his underwear. With him finally naked, I nodded my head towards the bed. “Lay down on your stomach, yeah? I'll find something to massage you with.”

He hummed as I turned to the bedside drawer, opening it and looking through the various bottles and jars of lotions, creams, and oils. “This should suffice.” I mumbled as I took out two bottles of oil, one being a scented lavender essential oil, and the other, some coconut oil.

I took the liberty to plop down onto his butt, straddling him. I laughed as he let out a heavy puff of breath, with him giving me a deadpan look. I spilled a small amount of lavender oil unto his back before adding a moderate amount of coconut oil. Mixing the two oils together with my hands, I then spread the mixture all throughout his back, shoulders, and arms. He groaned as I felt his skin begin to warm up, moving my hands back and forth and making sure to rub in the oil. He hissed as I pressed on a particular tense spot on his shoulder, then groaning in pain as I pressed my hand down further.

“You're really stressed,” I murmured, working through the tense muscles of his shoulders. “Is the deadline near? It might be good to call it a day here. By forcing yourself to do more, you end up doing less.”

“Maybe,” He smiled tiredly. “I'll think about it more when you're done."

"Alright." I nodded as I continued the massage, moving unto his back.

I worked diligently, thoroughly enjoying the satisfied sounds he made. He soon relaxed unto the bed, his breath becoming slow and deep. He had a wide back, his skin glistening from the oil and his muscles flexing under my touch. My fingers tapped at his sides, kneading at his flesh as I bent down to gently place a kiss on his nape. He hummed in delight, and I did it again for a few more times, just to make us both a little more happy.

I then massaged his arms, then moved to his butt and legs. I paid particular attention to his derriere, and he earned a laugh from me when he teasingly shook it. When I was done, I got off him and gave his butt a playful little slap. ”Roll over. Time to do your front.“

”Yes, ma'am.“ he grunted, rolling onto his back.

”Good to know you're enjoying yourself." I laughed, looking pointedly at a certain part of his that was standing straight.

"I am." He gave a toothy smile.

Sitting down on him, I made sure to fit his member snugly between my thighs, pressing my crotch against his. Spilling the same amount of oil unto his abdomen and chest, I began massaging once more, this time keenly aware at how his prick was pressing against my stomach. He was a little louder now, his sounds more frequent, and he was looking at me with a heated gaze.

Once I was done with his upper body, I began massaging his lower body, sometimes intentionally rubbing the areas near his crotch, but not directly touching it. He was beginning to look a little frustrated the longer I teased him, but I continued on while blatantly ignoring his gaze.

I giggled as I heard him click his tongue.

By the time I was done, both Edward and I were breathing heavily, him especially so. I reached behind to the bedside drawer and took two pieces of wet wipes, wiping away the oil on my hands.

“Well, I think we're done!” I said cheerily, laughing as he straight away glared at me, his hand reaching out to hold my hip. “What?” I grinned. “Did I miss a spot? I'm pretty sure I massaged everything quite thoroughly though.”

“Not everything,” he said weakly. “Do I really have to say it?”

“Mm, I think you do~” I cooed, my fingers tapping his hips. "I'm afraid I'm a little clueless as to what I left out~"

He went silent for a moment, and I could see the various emotions flickering behind his eyes as he pondered, his lips pressing into a thin line. What was he thinking about, I wonder? Was he feeling ashamed? Was he holding unto the small thread of dignity he had left?

"Please..." He rasped out my name, a pretty, little pathetic sound as he grabbed my hand, leading it to the place exactly where he wanted it to go. "Touch me."

Ah, there we go. That's the Edward I know.

The Edward that I love is the one who is absolutely shameless .

"I see." I whispered, smirking. Reaching out my hand, I grabbed a hold of his member, smiling as he groaned out a loud sigh of relief, his body sinking in relaxation into the bed. I moved my hand slowly up and down his shaft, before thumbing his leaking tip, spreading the pre-cum around the head. He whimpered, hips bucking against my hand.

It was cute at how satisfied he was at this little touch. So simple, so easy to please.

But he didn't think I was done torturing him, did he?

I maintained the almost snail-like pace of my hand, and it wasn't long before he began to become impatient again, a small whine leaving him.

"What's wrong?" I asked innocently. "I'm going at the 'safe' speed. Any faster, and I might hurt you."

He laughed hoarsely, his grip on my hip tightening. "Trust me. You're hurting me by not going faster."

“Please, please, please...” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “I need this.”

Begging at this point already? Good, good, very good . This is the pathetic side of him that I wanted to see. The side of him that I like so much. Pleading, close to tears, his pleasure quite literally on my fingertips and mine to control.

“You're so good for me," I whispered, smiling. "You deserve a reward."

He gave a choked moan as I finally quickened my pace on his member, his hands grabbing my hips and bucking his crotch against mine. I laughed weakly as I felt him against me, the touch sending a tingling sensation down my spine and making goosebumps rise on my skin. Embarrassing as it was to admit, the whole act that I was doing earlier made me just, maybe even more turned on than him.

”You wouldn't mind if I joined in with you, right?" I asked breathily, placing my other hand on his stomach and lifted my hips, moaning as I pressed his hard penis against my clothed clit.

“Be my guest,” He laughed, hands moving to the waistband of my shorts and panties. “But take these off.”

All too eagerly I took them off, tossing them to the side as I got on top of him again, taking his member with my hand and rubbing it against my now naked clit, coating him with my slick.

I wanted to tease him longer. Maybe even make him angry a little. Destroy the remaining pieces of patience he had and make me forcefully take him. But damn it all to hell.

I'm impatient too.

“Fuck!” I gasped out as I let his tip enter me, before slowly going down inch by inch until I was sitting flush on his lap, his entire length now inside. I felt my face burn at the realization of the extent of how excited I was, feeling my slick drip down my thighs.

“Finally.” Edward groaned, one hand on my side while the other went up and down my thigh. Exhaling shakily, I started to move, quickly getting lost in the pleasure as I bounced on his dick.

“You're so warm." I moaned, hands scratching his hips as I moved hastily. "You feel so good. So, so, so good! ”

The stretch was delicious . And for as many as the times I had him, I couldn't get enough. I wanted more, to keep feeling him inside me until it was the only thing I could think about.

No, perhaps it was a little late to say that. It was the only thing I could feel at this point. His cock filling me up and stirring my insides and making a mess of me—

"E-Edward!" I choked out, trembling as his thumb began to circle my clit, my hips stuttering from its pace. It was starting to get a little harder to breathe, my mouth staying open to gulp in more air only to let it out as I moaned loudly.

“You're wonderful.” He growled, and I could see the lust in his eyes, his gaze becoming darker and darker by the second. I grasped his other hand, interlacing our fingers together as I used it as support to continue riding him. He was breathing fast, sweat dripping down his chest and face, constant moans and sounds of pleasure leaving his lips.

God, he was so hot.

It wasn't long before I began to feel the beginnings of my orgasm, my body feeling hot and sensitive all over, and I could tell he was close too with how he grunted and his hips stuttering in his thrusts.

“A-ahng, Edward!~” I cried out as I came with explosive force, cum gushing out of me as I rode out my orgasm. I felt my vision blur as the feeling overwhelmed me, my body twitching and shaking at the sensation. I sobbed as I continued to ride him despite feeling overstimulated, holding his hand to my stomach as tears began to leak out my eyes. It was too much, it was too good, and I wanted it to stop, but at the same time never wanted it to end.

Most of all, I wanted him to cum. I wanted him to cum, and wanted him to shoot it all out inside of me until I was full—

“Shit!” Edward cursed as he brought down my hips and slammed me against him, cumming with a loud moan. This triggered a second orgasm within me that I didn't realize was building, and I clenched down on him hard as I came once more.

Breathing hard, I felt a little lightheaded, drool dripping from my lips as I relished the feeling of his semen inside me. It was warm, and nice, and filled me up so, so nicely.

Regaining my composure a few moments later, I looked at him, laughing softy seeing that he seemed out of it too. At my laugh, he slowly looked at me, a lazy, but satisfied smile growing on his lips.

“Thank you.” he said gently, “I really... really needed that.”

“Mmm.” I smiled, laying down on his chest which was rightfully my place. He hummed in appreciation as I silently began to pepper his face with kisses, combing my fingers through his beard. We stayed like this for several minutes as he soaked in my affection, with me thoroughly enjoying touching him.

Placing one final kiss on his nose, I pulled back to look him in the eyes. “You're welcome.”

“So, what's your answer to my suggestion earlier?" I asked as I got off him, stretching my sore limbs. I laid down next to him. "Are you done for today?”

“I am.” he answered, chuckling. “I am feeling real damn happy right now, and I don't want to ruin it by looking at the draft.”

“Good!” I cheered, giggling as I snuggled up to his side. “Then I will enjoy your warmth as you sleep, so make sure you rest up properly!”

“I’ll wake you up sometime later. By then, both of us will be clean, and I would've prepared dinner."

He sighed, hugging me as he buried his face in my hair. ”I love you.“

”Not as much as I love you.“ I replied cattily, poking his chest.

He chuckled, no doubt not agreeing with that.

”We'll see.“

[existentialspiral]

It really is true what they say about creators hating their old work. It's damn near impossible for me to go back and read a lot of my old posts on this blog just for my overuse of commas, to say nothing of the other problems present. Seriously, what was wrong with me? It's hard enough for me to get any writing done these days because I have to fight to pare my sentences down from the tangled mess they tend to become, but I recoil in horror over how bad I used to be. Like, Kringlefucking Christ on a pogostick, how did anyone read this? How are people still reading it? I still get new notes on the old classpecting posts (shoutout to @balencia for being the most recent victim of my old writing to leave notes), and I have nothing but regret for the lacking quality of the writing.

Not regret for the content of the writing (mostly), but the writing itself. The sheer quantity of commas, the complexity of nested clauses and subclauses, the overall length of individual sentences, I cannot help but cringe at the amateurishness of it all. I know my writing is still imperfect, that I still have most of these flaws present to a thankfully-lesser degree, and that I have a new bad habit of overusing semicolons. But looking at the sheer mess that I was back in the day is... uncomfortable.

But what's more uncomfortable is the fact that, for how atrocious the craftsmanship of the writing was, things actually got written. It wasn't good writing: it was messy, it was needlessly complicated, and it was almost entirely unedited, but it actually got finished and published. How long has it been since I could actually finish a damn thing? How long have I been trapped in this unproductive limbo of depressed distraction and hopeless apathy?

I've had a partly-finished draft for a Seer of Time analysis saved to my laptop for at least 4 years now, and 6 seperate rewrite drafts of various degrees of completeness (and a half-dozen other analysies I started but never finished). I have no doubt that the sections that actually got written are each incrementally better than the one before them, and that the latest draft is leagues better than anything I wrote back in the day. But at least I was able to finish things back when my writing was an inexcusably over-punctuated spiderweb of tangled sentences and unformated logic.

[redvelvetnat]

common tongue

switch!wanda x bottom!reader x top!natasha

introduction into the moments silence universe

summary ➞ with a new house to chase away the loneliness of her recent divorce, wanda wasn’t prepared for her (married) boss/neighbor to have such interesting sex habits. word count : 4.8k

disclaimer ➞ 18+, strong language, wine consumption, smut, non-con voyeurism, strap-on use, threesome, heavy dirty talk (degradation + praise + pet names), oral sex (r + wanda receiving), all legal age gap (r + natasha are slightly older than wanda)

a/n ➞ not my best work but i was sick of looking at this in my drafts. this piece of work is not to be copied or translated anywhere. thank you for reading!!! gif source natasha , wanda

“…and the sex is amazing.”

Wanda knew she shouldn’t have been standing outside your office door; not with the millions of things she could have been doing around the building and the million other things to be done at her own desk.

Whether she had been technically eavesdropping on your weekly phone call with Carol was still up for debate. No matter the ethics of the situation, she had heard the words leave your lips; crystal clear and followed immediately by how lucky you were to have found the love of your life.

The entire situation was exactly the reason Wanda found herself here, now, entering her house with shaking hands that only worsened as she open the untouched bottle of red wine that had been sitting in her refrigerator for god knows how long.

It had all happened so fast - Wanda swimming so deep in her own thoughts that she missed you ending your call as well as the echo of your footsteps towards the office door. It was only the sound of the knob turning that caught her attention, right before the door swung open to reveal her standing at the other side without so much as a decent alibi.

By the time she knew what was happening, you were pulling her into your office and taunting her about listening in - spying - on you. “Do you like hearing about my sex life Wanda? Does that excite you?”

Of course it did. Just as it excited her to watch you and your wife pull into the driveway and step out of that shiny, new, black, sports car every day. Or when she saw the two of you leaving for work, dripping with that been-married-for-years-and-still-in-the-honeymoon-phase glow.

There was just something about it that always seemed to catch Wanda’s attention. Maybe she found a comfort in catching a glimpse of a normal marriage - one unlike what she had just gotten herself out of.

By the time you had finished torturing her and sent her home for the day, her face had been glowing a fire-engine red color and burned with something that the word ‘embarrassment’ did little to embody.

Which brought her to her kitchen; mumbling a string of curses and attempting to drown her embarrassment in wine that tasted as cheap as it had cost.

When she had finally gotten enough to staring at the white tile backdrop, Wanda decided the livingroom would be a more comfortable place to wallow in her own self-pity and drink the night away until the hangover tomorrow was damn near incurable.

She killed the kitchen lights and began to trudge into the living space. It felt heavy with the same lonely feeling the kitchen had; solemn and shrouded in darkness.

Sighing into the room, she abandoned the bottle onto the coffee table and turned on her heel towards the light-switch before her attention was caught by movement out of the corner of her eye. Absentmindedly, she swiveled to close the open-curtains before a gasp echoed into the room.

From her position, Wanda could see directly through the window adorning your wife’s home office. More specifically, she could see Natasha - she thinks she remembers your wife to be named - fucking you against her new-wood mahogany work desk.

Your body strained against the barren surface - the materials that usually adorned it had already been scattered across the floor - as shaky hands held yourself up-right the best that you could.

Natasha’s mouth moved next to your ear, grunting words through gritted teeth as her hips snapped a cherry-red strap deeper and harder inside of you; much to your content, it seemed.

Wanda was helpless in stopping her attention from falling to your face; contorted into pleasure and blubbering with inaudible profanities and sounds Wanda could only imagine to sound just as attractive as your voice always had.

She knew she needed to move, to distract herself with something - anything. But she’d be lying to say she wanted to look away as her eyes zeroed in on the way your bodies molded together despite the hand that extended behind you and pressed firmly against Natasha’s abdomen.

One particularly loud moan, a shuttering and drawn-out “Yes, Nat, fuck!”, echoed from your house to Wanda’s. The muffled words alone made Wanda press her thighs together as she tried desperately to tear herself away from the window. Close the blinds - she told herself but there wasn’t a muscle in her body that made any effort to move.

Then, in one quick motion and without missing a beat, Natasha flipped you around and pinned your ass against the edge of the furniture. Her hands slid up the sides of your torso as she relayed something to you that Wanda could not make out.

But Natasha began to fuck into you harder as your eyes widened at whatever she had. Her hand curled delicately around your chin and forced your head into the exact direction of where Wanda was staring from her window; a wicked smirk playing on your wife’s lips and shock evident over your face.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Wanda leapt forward quickly, scrambling for the blinds and nearly pulling them off their mount as she fumbled to close them.

Her nervously sweating hands found the the thighs of her dress slacks, heart beginning to pound harder against her chest. “I’m so fucking fired! God fucking damnit!” She screeched into the darkness, body vibrating with a terrifying cocktail of fear and adrenaline as she sorted through what to do next.

As if the ordeal hadn’t been enough to make her nearly shit her pants, the doorbell echoing throughout her house sent her soaring into the air and clutching at her chest.

“Shit, fuck.” She cussed again, shakily stumbling towards the hallway with the growing lump in her throat. Her heartbeat echoed louder as she approached the door, dread bubbling in her chest.

Her hand curled around the doorknob, twisted, then came to a pause. If she was smart she would just not open the door, move cities and change her name to start a new life where she could pretend that none of this had ever happened.

She jumped when the doorbell rang again, “I know you’re in there, Maximoff.” Oh - so this was it. This was Wanda’s last moment of aliveness before your wife would undoubtedly slit her throat the moment Wanda revealed herself to be on the other side of the door.

She could climb out the window. Or break down in guilt-ridden tears and babble on and on about her messy divorce until the red-head took pity on her and left her there to drown in a pool of her own pathetic tears.

Without much help from her frazzled brain, Wanda pulled the knob and drew the door open. She was met with Natasha’s striking green gaze, accented with a single cocked eyebrow.

It was now that Wanda realized she had never been up-close with your wife - and that she was a thousand times more terrifying at this distance.

“I-uh-I…” Her mouth was working without her brain as she tried to find the words at the tip of her tongue. She was far more than embarrassed; cheeks hot and beet red the same way they had been leaving your office earlier in the day.

As she fumbled for words to say, the woman in front of her had the nerve to laugh - genuinely, and loudly, laugh at the flustered state of her neighbor who she’d just caught watching as she fucked you. Wanda couldn’t possibly understand what was funny about the situation.

“Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?” She was toying with Wanda, that much was clear as her voice dropped to a smooth whisper and her lips widened into a smirk.

“I’m sorry.” It was a pathetic apology but it was also the only tangible thing Wanda was going to get out. She figured the red-head knew that as she pressed her shoulder against the doorframe casually to watch the younger woman twitch nervously.

They stood there in silence for a moment; Wanda blinking back the tears of embarrassment that burned at her eyes and Natasha watching her with an eerily calm demeanor.

Wanda expected her to yell, scream, maybe throw a few swings. But she didn’t, she just eyes the woman curiously.

“Come with me, kid.” She finally demanded, pushing off the doorframe and turning on her heels before sauntering back towards her own house without giving Wanda much time to decide.

Wanda fumbled for a moment before figuring it was best to follow Natasha’s instructions. She pulled the front door closed behind her and skidded after the woman in her own twisted ‘walk of shame’.

“Mrs. Romanoff.” Natasha laughed once again, “Nat is fine.” She corrected, glancing over her shoulder as she pushed her front door open. Wanda could hardly understand how this was a time for formalities.

Her breath caught in her throat as she stepped through the threshold of the house, suddenly feeling entirely too small against the tall ceilings and warm air that surrounded her.

Your house looked exactly as she had imagined it to. It resembled one of those high-end, industrial, New York apartments Wanda had fallen in love with. The windows covered most of the walls and what little they didn’t was accented with pieces of fine artwork. Wanda couldn’t even begin to imagine how much they had cost.

“Nat, look, I’m really sorry but-”

“Oh, quit your blubbering and come on. Don’t want to keep her waiting do you?”

Wanda’s chest went ice cold at the implication that you were waiting for her. You had probably already called the police on her for stalking and now your wife was corralling her into your home so that she had no chance to run.

Hell, you probably had the barrel of a shotgun aimed straight down the hall as you waited for Wanda to open whatever door you were perched behind.

Okay, maybe that was a bit excessive.

Natasha came to a stop in front of the door at the end of the hallway and pushed it open before the other woman even had time to catch up to her.

Between the growing lump in Wanda’s throat and the shake that had settled into her hands once again, it wouldn’t have surprised her is she simply passed out right then and there.

Another attempt at an apology twitched at the end of Wanda’s tongue, only to die out the moment the door swung open and revealed you kneeling on the floor at the end of the bed, wearing no more clothing than you had been when she was watching Natasha fuck you just moments ago.

Wanda’s eyes darted down your naked body, sitting surprisingly docile and on complete display to her, and immediately flickered over to Natasha who looked more-than-amused at the flustered twitching that caused the younger woman to stumble back a few paces.

Natasha pressed a firm hand against the small of Wanda’s back and her thumb came forward to force Wanda’s chin back in a position to face you, encouraging her to look.

If her throat hadn’t have been so dry, Wanda might have started to drool as you met her eyes with an expression that read come on, Wanda, I don’t bite.

Natasha’s presence weighed heavy behind her but she’d be damned if she tore her attention away from you now, especially as the red-head pushed her further into the room.

“Don’t be shy - now - Maximoff.” Natasha teased with yet another laugh as Wanda’s eyes began to glaze over excitedly, “Am I dreaming?” She certainly was a few moments away from pinching herself.

It was your turn to giggle, as if there was some running joke in the air that Wanda was missing out on. “You hear that, baby? She thinks you’re a dream.” Natasha spoke with amusement and pressed closer, followed the sound of the door clicking shut.

“Have you ever done it?” Natasha asked suddenly, breaking the concentration Wanda had put into staring as you as her eyebrows knit in confusion. “Done…?” She asked without taking her eyes off yours.

Natasha cleared her throat to draw Wanda’s attention back. When Wanda turned reluctantly, the same toy Natasha had been using earlier was dangling from her fingers. The gulp that sounded from deep within Wanda’s throat was answer enough, no, she had never used one.

Natasha’s eyes fell curiously over the younger woman, wondering how she’d been so…innocent and still managed to take an interest in you of all people. The same woman Natasha had witnessed overwhelm even her most confident of friends. And here Wanda was, all doe-eyed and drooling; being served you on a silver platter and still too clouded with nerves to know what to do with you.

As Natasha began to peel away her clothes, it became wickedly clear to her that she’d have to teach Wanda what to do with you. Lucky for Wanda, Natasha was an expert at that by now.

“I’ll show you, in due time.” There was no reason to rush things. Despite the obvious nerves, the look in Wanda’s eyes indicated that she was at least somewhat enjoying herself. And, with the adoring way you had talked about Wanda in the last few weeks, Natasha figured it wouldn’t be the last time she would be invited into your bedroom.

But, in classic Natasha fashion, she was going to have to break the innocence that clouded Wanda’s conscience - there was no room for that here.

“She can be a real slut if you use it right.” Just as Natasha had figured it would, the language made Wanda’s eyes widen as she nearly choked on the air in her lungs.

“Oh, don’t be so prissy, Maximoff. She likes when you talk about her like that. Isn’t that right, dove?” It was now only the second time Natasha had regarded you since the two of them had entered the room.

Wanda’s attention shifted back to you in time to catch the fervent nod of your head as you watched Natasha pull the toy back on with eager eyes. “Look at her, she’s practically begging you to touch her.”

You looked up at Wanda then, eyes full of a submission she had never experienced before in regards to you. It was very much unlike the confidence you displayed at work; the one that seemed to natural and always ensured you were payed the full-extent of the respect you deserved.

Now was different, you looked small and fragile at Wanda’s feet and she couldn’t help but wonder how Natasha fought the urge to reach down and scoop you into her arms every time you flashed those eyes at her.

The power Wanda felt over you was completely unfamiliar to her but she pushed closer nonetheless.“Go ahead.” Natasha encouraged the sudden boldness.

Wanda visibly hesitated before moving to press her thumb against your bottom lip. As if trained to do so - which, of course, you had been - you took the digit between your lips and began sucking at it without letting your eyes fall from Wanda’s.

“Look. At. You.” Natasha cooed, accentuating each word all on its own as she stepped behind you and gathered your hair at the back of your head. Her hands slid down to hold the curve of your jaw between her palms and successfully hold your attention on Wanda.

“Good girl.” It surprised even Wanda herself as she said it, fully preparing to pull away in embarrassment if it hadn’t have been for the moan that vibrated against the pad of her thumb.

The surprise in Wanda’s expression must have given her away as Natasha piped in with a, “She loves the praise, practically lives for it. I bet you’ve already made her pretty cunt all messy.” Wanda’s heart sped up at the thought - or maybe just the words themselves - heat building desperately between her own legs as she imagined what was to come next.

“Go find out, Maximoff.” It was all the approval she needed for her to sink onto her knees in an attempt to reach between your parted thighs. But she was interrupted by Natasha, “Hey, no. Get up.” She complied at the tone in Natasha’s voice, confusion disregarded as she focused on not upsetting the older woman.

“You make her come to you. If she wants us to use her like the greedy little fucktoy she is, she’ll have to work for it.”

The condescending tone in your wife’s voice, speaking as if you weren’t even in the room, forced a whimper from your chest. The sound made Wanda release a sharp breath as a smug smile spread further across Natasha’s face.

Wanda cleared her throat, fishing inside herself for the confidence she knew she was going to have to have if she didn’t want to blow her shot at fucking you. “On the bed.” Short and sweet was the demand, earning her a chuckle of approval from the older woman beside her and an eager comply from you.

A hand clamped down on her shoulder, “Impressive, Maximoff. There you go.” Natasha purred in a voice that made Wanda want to let out a whimper of her own. But she refrained and instead sent a curt nod as she tried to steady her wobbly legs.

Your back sunk further into the soft mattress as Wanda took a step towards you. Her hand came down and brushed against the bruises already forming on your knees before sliding up towards the soft skin of your thigh, examining the way your legs parted in invitation for either of the women above you.

Unlike the whimper she had managed to swallow moments ago, Wanda did let out a groan at the sight of you and wasted absolutely no time in running a timid finger through your slick folds. Natasha had been right, you were wet all the way down your thighs.

You gasped at the suddenly intrusion of Wanda’s finger probing at your entrance and clenched around nothing as Natasha spoke again, “See, Maximoff. What did I tell you? She can’t help but make a mess.” Wanda was unsure of what to do next as she watched your hips buck towards her finger.

“Can I-…” Wanda didn’t even have to finish her question before Natasha was mumbling something about ‘do whatever you want, she’ll take it’ which was lost on your ears as you focused on the desperation growing in your cunt.

Wanda ducked towards you and her tongue darted out to lash at your swollen clit. The moan she was rewarded with encouraged her to keep going, circling her lips around the sensitive bud.

Needy sounds tumbled from your lips, Wanda’s own moans began vibrating against your clit as she pushed her tongue deeper - she was tasting you as if she had never eaten a decent meal in her life and never would again. Your hands flew into her hair and further rewarded her with approving tugs and yanks.

Your squirming did not go unnoticed by your wife, “Hold her down. You’re in charge.” Wanda complied without hesitation, bracing both hands on either side of your hips and anchoring them against the bed as your attempts at thrashing against her face did not falter.

The sounds of Wanda practically devouring you echoed in the space around you, the quietness of the house long intruded, especially as your wife encouraged the newest addition to your bedroom, “Come on, Maximoff. Look at her, she’s being so good for you. Why don’t you make her cum, sweetheart?” Wanda had never wanted to do anything more and the nickname in itself brought her to begin rubbing sharp circles against your clit.

Natasha was impressed. Admittedly, she had thought she was going to have to coach Wanda on more than just taking charge. But she was fucking you with her tongue like she had been practicing all her life and deserved a certificate.

It was apparent that you thought the same. “Fuck, Wanda. Please, please, let me cum!” And Wanda would have, without a doubt, if Natasha hadn’t tangled a hand in her hair and yanked her away without so much as a warning to either of you.

Your wife’s laugh boomed as a choked sob escaped your heaving lungs, hips craning desperately to follow the retreat of Wanda’s face. Even a whimper fell from the other woman’s lips but she didn’t dare disobey the red-head standing above her.

“Oh, come on, dove. You didn’t really think it’d be that easy, huh?” You had, actually - and the whine you let out alerted Natasha of this.

Natasha cooed a mix of ‘poor baby’ and ‘little slut’ from behind Wanda but it was swallowed by the blood rushing in her ears; pure excitement over the hand that tightened further at the roots of her hair.

It was very clear to her now; no matter what kind of power she ever managed to build over you, Natasha would always be in control. Always. And that intrigued her entirely.

Still, she hadn’t wanted to stop. Not with the sweet moans and the fiery confidence building in her chest that she had been rewarded with.

Natasha motioned to the top of the bed where your head was frustratedly thrown back against the mattress as you tried to catch your breath. “Over there.”

Wanda began to move around you, and prepared herself to crawl at the top of the bed until Natasha grabbed at the waistband of her dress pants and let it snap back against her skin.

“I meant on her face, sweetheart.” Natasha corrected.

The courage Wanda had grown immediately began to deplete as she glanced down at the button of her pants. “Oh, okay.” She let out a shaky breath as her fingers fumbled with the fastens. She wanted to - god, did she want to - but she was entirely nervous to expose herself now.

“Let me.” Your voice was soft as you spoke, for the first time, in a sentence that hadn’t been clouded by desperate whines or obeying hums. Wanda glanced at you, then at Natasha who only gave her an assuring nod as she sensed the nerves radiating off of Wanda once again.

Wanda returned her attention to you, hands falling to her sides as yours came up to undo her pants. You were, unsurprisingly, good at unbuckling them from your sideways position before helping Wanda pull them down along with the thin cotton material of her underwear.

Natasha moved forward and pressed a gentle kiss at the base of Wanda’s neck, the first non-verbal affection she had shown to either of you and her only attempt of the night to calm the younger woman’s nerves. And it worked, especially as her lips trailed gently up towards the younger woman’s ear and her fingers began to work open the buttons of her shirt.

“This okay, Maximoff?” The question was odly comforting coming from Natasha with the soft breath that brushed against her earlobe and Wanda let out a soft ‘yes’ as the last of her clothes were peeled away. “See, not so bad.” She hummed and Wanda let out a breathy laugh.

“Open wide, dove.” Natasha nearly sung as she helped Wanda climb over your face and throw her outer thigh to the opposite side of your head.

Two moans rung out as Wanda sunk herself down onto your flattened tongue; Wanda’s as her eyes squeezed shut with a shuddered breath and yours and the taste of her coated your tongue. If she hadn’t have been so turned on, Wanda would have been embarrassed at the sloppy rhythm in which her hips began to stutter against your face.

“Guess my little dove isn’t the only slut around here, huh?” Natasha’s question went unanswered as Wanda’s fist found your hair and gripped as if she was afraid you’d disappear from between her thighs. Natasha didn’t pay much mind to the lack of an answer, she was going to cut the poor girl some slack for now.

You were lost in Wanda, so captivated by the way her cunt clenched around your tongue and the moans that unhitched from her throat when you lashed your tongue in a way she liked that you didn’t notice Natasha had moved downwards until the head of her toy probed at your own entrance.

“Keep making her feel good, baby, ‘wanna reward you with my cock.”

You let out an involuntary plead, muffled by Wanda’s echoing wetness and her chanting of “Yes, yes, yes! Good girl, yes, good girl!” just as Natasha pushed the toy inside you, all the way to the hilt, and left no time for you to adjust to it’s girth before she was pounding away at your hips.

“You’re so good for us, dove.” Natasha encouraged, her movements never faltering as she worked the toy inside you; deeper and at the same pace that your tongue worked at Wanda’s fluttering clit.

Natasha reached forward after a moment, circling her hand around Wanda’s throat and guiding her head to lean backwards. “Come on sweetheart, don’t you wanna cum?” Wanda nodded eagerly as her eyes squeezed shut at the overwhelming feeling of pleasure.

“No no no, Maximoff, I wanna watch that innocence melt away.”

Natasha sped up her hips against yours as Wanda let out a strangled cry and her eyes fell open to lock onto Natasha. “Is this what you thought about, sweetheart? When you watched me bend that pretty little whore of mine over my desk? Did you think about getting fucked just as good? Hmm?”

To accompany your wife’s words, your hand anchored between Wanda’s thighs, sinking into her cunt without so much as a lick of resistance as if making her cum had been your only goal for the entirety of your life.

“Oh fuck, I’m gonna-…” The words were lost on Wanda’s drying lips as she clamped down around your fingers; hips bucking sporadically as she chased the ever-growing need to release.

“Go ahead, sweetheart.”

Natasha’s further encouragement was all Wanda needed before her head began reeling with the dizziness she had been chasing and her orgasm spasmed through the muscles in her body; each one of them screaming something along the lines of fuck yes as her death grip on your hair tightened impossibly.

Knowing your plead for your own release would go unheard over her own screaming, Wanda’s hand came down to rub desperately at your clit at the same time that Natasha drilled the toy into you with purpose.

“Cum for us. Come on, I want to see you cum.” Wanda pleaded between gasping breaths. Natasha smirked as she leaned forward to plant sloppy kisses against Wanda’s heaving lips and her hips worked harder even through the clenching you were doing. “Taking my cock so well, dove. Make a mess all over it.”

The sounds of your release were swallowed by Wanda’s thighs, still clenched tightly at either side of your head as you came. Wanda made a point of lifting away from your face so that your screams were free to bounce off the bedroom walls, a small bit of pride filling her chest as your clit pulsed against her fingertips.

Natasha watched intently as her hips slowed to a stop, squelching sounds following the calculated withdrawal of her hips in time with your orgasm subsiding. “There’s my good girl. My sweet girls.” Her thumb brushed adoringly against the bone of Wanda’s jaw.

Wanda’s emerald-colored eyes were black even under the yellow light of the night-table lamp which lewdly cast the shadow of the three of you against the far wall.

Natasha helped to guide Wanda off of you and settled her onto the bed beside you. When your hand found hers and entwined your fingers, she flickered a soft glance in your direction.

Her chest still retched with shallow breaths as she spoke, “What happens now?” She almost sounded sad - as if she was trying to etch it into her brain because it was going to dissipate from her fingertips and she’d never experience this sort of euphoria before.

Natasha laughed softly, without the sarcasm that had swam in her previous laughter that night. She emerged from the bathroom where she had been discarding the toy and fetching a few damp washcloths, “Now you rest. You think we were gonna kick you out?”

“I was hoping not.”

You laughed then, still breathy and exhausted, “Oh, you’ll be lucky if we can keep our hands off you now.”

[authornina]

Pie Session: Erie

***THIS HAS NOT BEEN THROUGH A TYPICAL EDITING PROCESS; ALL SHORTS ARE ROUGH DRAFTS***

⚠️TRIGGER WARNING⚠️: DOMESTIC VIOLENCE...STOP HERE. 

Erie’s life flashed before her eyes. Like she thought Dem had already killed her. Sav shouting and damn near having to put him in a chokehold to get him off of her let her know she was still breathing. There may have been a chance at life but he still sounded far away so death was closer than she wanted it to be. 

“Bro…” Sav pushed Dem. “What the fuck! Erie…” he slapped her face and she stirred a little bit and Sav exhaled. “Come on.” 

One minute they were talking, the next Dem was trying to rid her of all life. 

“Get the fuck off me!” Erie struggled to get up. She’d been hit by Dem before so it wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling, but still. “This nigga almost killed me! For the SECOND time!” 

“And what the fuck is you gon’ do about it?!” Dem raged. “Go get Daly, get the muthafuckin’ national guard bitch! I go to war wit anybody over my kids! Ion give a fuck!” 

“Fuck you nigga!” 

“Fuck you bitch! On my Daddy, you ain’t ever got a muthafuckin’ thing to say to me again. Ain’t no respect my nigga, that shit dead! You a piece of pussy to me! The fuck you thought? We was gon’ ride off into the sunset and shit would be all good? Naw, it ain’t ever been gravy since five years ago. I been sparin’ ya lil fuckin’ feelings cause I did get caught up wit the old shit but don’t get it fucked up!” Dem reached over Sav pushing Erie’s head hard as hell ready to fuck her up again.

Erie was hurt by his words, but she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry. She knew he could be lethal when he was mad and so could she but this whole situation was done in her eyes. Dem tried to kill her…again.

It wasn’t with a gun this time, but his hands were just as deadly. Her throat felt like it was closing up from how tight he was squeezing her neck. Never had she saw an eviller look in his eyes. 

“Put your hands on me one more time and I swear to God…” 

“You swear to God what?” Dem pushed Sav out the way getting in Erie’s face. “Hm? DO WHAT?” 

“Dem just chill—” 

“Fuck off me nigga!” Dem snatched away from Sav. “What the fuck you gon’ do Erie? Let me know,” he was bending down in her face practically nose to nose. 

This was the way he had to be with a bitch like her because she wouldn’t stop. Erie didn’t see how she treated somebody until they did the same shit to her.  

For a while, after the whole birthday incident, Dem let her think shit was all good. He even stayed away from her because in all honesty, he didn’t want to harm Erie. For anything, more than anybody, he knew what it was like to be misunderstood. It’s what made them connect in a way. But she really just couldn’t let shit go. Even when she was wrong, she found a way to make herself the victim. 

You would figure a person in the wrong would at least see why their actions led them to a certain point and at least let the shit go. Dem was willing to out of genuine respect and love for her, he told himself she wouldn’t be that fucking petty but nope, Erie came talking that hot shit to a muhfucka that if he didn’t play about nothing else, its his children. 

“Get outta my face.” 

“Or…the…fuck…what?”

“Sav get your brother.” 

“He can’t help you; nobody can help you. You a immature, hateful, childish, selfish, disrespectful, nasty bitch. Ain’t no savin’ when it come to that. I let so much shit slide when it came to you my nigga, but you like to fuckin’ push and push people. Then I’m crazy when I react, right?” 

“Believe what you wanna believe I really don’t care anymore. Remember you said all that shit to me in the long run.” 

“I DON’T GIVE A FUCK!” 

“Ard Dem, let’s go,” Sav tried once again to get his brother to leave. Erie was like that thing for him. The pin in a hand grenade. It’s like she pulled it thinking there wouldn’t be an explosion. 

“Naw, she owe me an apology.” 

“What?” Erie scoffed. “I’m not apologizing for—” before she could finish, Dem punched her right in the mouth. 

“DEM!” Sav threw his head back clawing his hands down his face. “Let’s go my nigga, you doin’ the most!” 

Erie held her mouth with tears in her eyes. Now he was just abusing her.

“I am?” Dem asked, completely voided in sight. He was smiling. “Sav,” he pulled up his pants still boring his stare into Erie. “Just go wait in there.” 

“No…” Sav knew what he was about to do. Dem would break you until you cracked, and he couldn’t allow his brother to do that to Erie. She was being nutty, yes, but he made his point. “Let’s go.” 

“After this bitch apologize…I want it on your knees too.” 

“Dem—” 

“SHUT THE FUCK UP DAYVION!” the way Dem shouted it. He sounded like little Demetrius yelling at his baby brother.  

When he’d go into a place in his head sometimes there were moments when he experienced kind of like a past delusion. Sav constantly talking made him flash to when they were little, and Dem couldn’t stand him. Erie was from his past, so she was a trigger that brought out other triggers. 

Sav had to get Dem away and fast because he was slowly by surely losing it.

“Now, on your knees Erieon, and apologize to me like a good bitch.” 

“I’m not apologizing. I’m damn sure not bowing down to you.” Erie was standing her ground while Dem was about to make the stabilization beneath her rupture. 

“You said you not?” Dem laughed, nodding his head. He was looking around the room. “You tried to hurt my daughter.”

“Oh my God,” Sav blew his breath. Now his ass was backtracking in memory. Dem could relive some shit like it happened yesterday and the same feelings would be present as if he felt it in the last twenty-four hours. Erie was really tap dancing with the devil. “Dem she is sorry, ard? Erie is sorry.”

“I don’t believe her, make her say it.” 

“Erie, just tell him you sorry.”

“Make her say it, Sav.” 

“Just tell him you sorry, Erie.” 

“No,” she whispered looking at the floor. 

“She said no?” Dem asked Sav as if he didn’t hear Erie correctly. 

This was why Sav disarmed his ass before they saw her because he just knew Erie would’ve been dead when they first walked through the door.

“Bro…let’s just go.” 

“I can’t…I like…” Dem laughed a little. “I like this.” 

“FUCK YOU!” 

Dem flipped the fuck out. In his head he heard, fuck your daughter. Erie or Sav couldn’t stop the attack even if they turned into the Hulk because in that moment, Dem was Thanos and he simply wanted to destroy everything trying to taint his world. Harm his daughters. Erie was a threat. 

“And now you’re here.” 

“Now I’m here.” 

“Who recommended you come see me?” 

“After all of that happened, Sav told Lake. He came and talked to me but not before telling my brother everything that went down. They got into it and now they’re not speaking…because of me.” 

“How does that make you feel?” 

“I hate it. I hate it so much. Dalonte loves Lake but I know…” Erie dropped her head in shame. “I know he loves me more and now they’re not friends because of me. They’ve been friends before I was even born. Nobody is speaking to each other, everybody is mad. Pav is like my best friend and she’s in a weird ass position and won’t really talk to me either.”  

Dr. Pie stared at Erie’s healing battered face knowing Dem had to be in some state to physically assault her in such a way. Hearing that he voluntarily entered himself into a mental institution let her know the reality of his actions hit him and he was probably thinking he could hurt someone else. His children. Erie brought a side out of Dem that more than affected him, four little girls were also losing something now. It was a really sad thing to see especially because he’d been doing so well. 

“Erie, I have to say this, no matter what, you did not deserve to be physically abused the way you were. I know there may be faults on all sides but that’s never okay. Dem was in an altered state due to being triggered however this…I’m really sorry that happened to you.” 

“It’s okay.” 

“Is it?” 

“Yea…” 

“Has Dem ever been this way with you before?” 

“No…I mean…we fought but he never just went off on me like that.” 

“What do you think brought him to that place?” 

“I refused to apologize.” 

“From the events you’ve told me, he requested you apologize on your knees?” 

“Yes.” 

“Hm…” Dr. Pie nodded, jotting something down. “What do you think that was about?” 

“I don’t know, he get real dominate when he like that.” 

“Dominate…hm…have you ever had to apologize in such a way before?” 

“A long time ago.” 

“Is it something you’re willing to discuss?” 

“No.” 

“Okay…why do you ultimately feel guilty, Erie?” 

“Because…because Dem…he away from his kids.”

“In the past, when you two were together, had you seen Dem get this angry before?” 

“Yes.” 

“With you?” 

“No.” 

“Is it a situation you can talk about?” 

“No.” 

“Okay,” Dr. Pie wrote a little more than placed her pen flat. “Tell me…where do we go from here? So many relationships that I’ve personally witnessed are in bad shape. Lake and Daly being one of them.” 

“That make me feel worst.” 

“When Lake spoke with you, did he seem upset?” 

“No, to me, Lake never be upset. I think he just…I think he was in protective mode because he knew that my brother would be too.” 

“Did he and Daly have a fight?” 

“I don’t know, the day we all were together after everything happened, nobody was in there with them but when they came out, you could tell…you could tell it wasn’t the way they usually were.”

“And you mention, Pavati earlier? Their sister whom I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting yet, you said she was in a weird position?” 

“Yes, she’s engaged to my brother. They got kids together and everything.” 

“Did she go with you and Daly?” 

“Yea, and she was so mad in the car, I could tell. They didn’t…they didn’t sleep in the same room that night.” 

“Erie, one thing for certain, there is most definitely some accountability that needs to be taken here for the actions you played in this, which I see you are willing to be held accountable.” 

“I am…I want Dem to come out of that place, I want Lake and Dalonte to talk again, I want Pav to stop being mad at me, it’s all so stupid.” 

“Was it stupid when you brought Dem into a dark place? I’m not saying you needed to apologize to him in the way he requested but you’ve admitted to antagonizing him.” 

“It was childish, and I never ever will do it again.” 

“Erie why do you think you’re so angry with Dem? Before you recalled the events of that night to me, you said you were gone for five years?”

“Yes.”

“Five years…you came back home still holding some resentment towards Dem?” 

“Not resentment, I just was mad…I guess jealous seeing he moved on and had all these kids and…and was happy…I don’t know why I take shit out on other people.” 

“Did Dem’s new life hurt your feelings?” 

“No.” 

“Then why? Why are we here Erie? Why is everything torn apart? Why did Dem have to go into a facility?”

“Because I…I…” 

“Do you think Dem loves you Erie?” 

“I used to.” 

“But now?” 

“He’s moved on and I’m willing to accept that. I’m sorry, I won’t bother him ever again, I just want him to go home to his kids.” 

Erie felt terrible about everything. Dem wasn’t the teenager she could get mad then they’d argue and be cool again the next day. He had much more to lose and a lot of anger he tried his best to control. He stayed to himself, keeping out the way as to not be around things that would bring out the bad thoughts. Erie undid it all in one night. Tearing a lot of relations apart in the process. Hearing Pav talk to Haze whom was upset that her daughters weren’t sleeping because Dem wasn’t there made her feel awful. 

“What does your brother have to say about all of this?” 

“He’s mad at me too. I wasn’t supposed to even be around Dem.” 

“Has he and Lake spoken?” 

“I don’t think so.” 

“Erie, may I ask…what’s hurting you?” 

“I…I don’t…” Erie broke down with her head in her hands. Everything hurt her. So many things depressed her. Most days she didn’t even like herself. “I just want somebody to like me.” 

“Like you?” 

“Nobody ever cares about my feelings. I know that…I know I’m a lot to deal with and I know I cause a lot of trouble. I’ve always been a problem. When I was in school nobody liked me, everybody always thought my sisters were prettier than me and called me the ugly one. I was always the one with an attitude to people so I gave them one.” 

“What about your brother?” 

“He only loves me because he has to.” 

“Is that how you truly feel?” 

“My mom didn’t want me, Dalonte tolerated me. My sisters always called me evil. The only person who ever loved me, I mean all of me, even when I was being a bitch was Dem. He accepted me and didn’t care how I was.” 

“Emotionally Dem can’t take that on anymore so what can we do here to get you in a healthier state? How can I assist you with your feelings? I believe you have a lot of love surrounding you, especially from your brother but it hasn’t always been in a way where you can see it because it wasn’t produced how you’d want it to feel.” 

“I just want to be alone. I want everyone else to be happy and I’ll just stay out the way.” 

“Why?” 

“Because everybody would be better off without me.” 

“I don’t believe that Erie, I believe you want love and it’s been something hard for you to feel, process and express. I think you believe that too,” Dr. Pie stated making Erie cry a little more. “I believe you didn’t mean any of the things you’ve said and done but you are so used to disruption it’s the path you choose when things don’t go your way.” 

“I’m sorry…” Erie whispered with tears falling into her lap. “I’m really sorry.” 

Dr. Pie sat her notebook aside, grabbed some tissues and went to sit next to Erie. She didn’t always do this but sometimes her clients needed a hug. In this case, Erie needed a mother’s hug. To feel warm, cared for and loved. Like someone was there. 

“I’m sorry,” Erie wailed in Dr. Pie’s arms while she rocked her back and forth. “I didn’t mean it.” 

“I know dear, I know.”