glitterspeckle · 1 year ago
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Me: Y’know, I should start working on artfight
My brain for some reason: start drawing a doodle page of Kirby oc. Draw for over 1 hour. Colour it.
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koiiiji · 3 months ago
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im here for yakuza!Gun x reader smut 🤧🤧 like, you stayed at his family's mansion overnight because he introduced you to his clan for the first time and when the night came, this perv didn't care there was no soundproof system between rooms in the mansion (ofc, that's the traditional Japanese house style!!), he kept doing the deed, and even warned you to lower your voice if you didn't want anyone to hear 😏😏
ty as always bae <33
p/s: that's the idea and you can customize it however you want, just make sure that he is a meanie but soft at the same time (is it possible hm 🤔)
p/s (2): i have to send this idea right away in case you close your ask box too early lol 😂😂
author's note ; i mean Gun IS in fact yakuza, no? anyway sooo here we go! i had kinda same scenario but more rough and generally dark, like yandere, but fuck it, i think i won’t finish it anytime soon, bc i thought to add it to your request, but i don’t want to make you wait anymore. i think i was carried away a little in beginning, so its longer then expected, sorry!! 💞😮‍💨
author's note 2 ; art from pinterest, it says credits to : jongjong822 on x
tw ; f! reader, nsfw, minors, ageless/empty blogs DNI OR I WILL BLOCK YOU!!!
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· ┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ꕥ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·
to be honest, you had no plans to meet Yamazaki Gun's family tonight. it's not that you were against the idea — quite the opposite! you'd heard plenty about who his father was and what his family did. there were a lot of rumors swirling around town, and while you were a little wary, you were mostly curious. besides, you hadn’t been together for that long, so you didn’t expect Gun to introduce you to his family anytime soon.
when he told you earlier in the day to dress up for the evening, you weren’t surprised. it was just another night, another overly expensive restaurant, and another excuse to be in his company. as you sat in the passenger seat of Gun's sleek black car, you glanced out the window at the city passing by. the soft glow of the streetlights bathed the streets in a warm, golden hue, making everything feel a little more magical, a little more alive.
the atmosphere inside the car was just as enchanting. Gun had always been a man of few words, but tonight he seemed more at ease, more open. the quiet hum of the engine was accompanied by the faint sound of classical music playing through the car's speakers, creating a peaceful ambiance. you felt a sense of calm wash over you as you glanced at Gun, who was focused on the road ahead. his profile was illuminated by the soft light from the dashboard, casting shadows that only added to his already mysterious aura.
the restaurant was just as extravagant as you'd expected, with its towering marble pillars, crystal chandeliers, and tables draped in fine linen. evening went perfectly. you and Gun shared a bottle of wine, and as the evening wore on, you found yourself getting a little tipsy. it wasn’t enough to lose control, just enough to feel a pleasant buzz that made everything seem a little funnier, a little more relaxed. your laughter came more easily, and you found yourself leaning in closer to Gun, your hand occasionally brushing against his. he seemed to enjoy the relaxed version of you, a soft smile playing on his lips as he listened to your stories and responded with his own dry wit.
when the dinner finally came to an end, you felt a sense of contentment settle over you. the food had been exquisite, the wine even more so, and the company... well, there was no one else you'd rather be with. so you assumed that Gun would take you back to your home now, to end the night on a sweet note with a kiss or maybe something more at your doorstep. so, when he steered the car away from the familiar streets and onto an unknown road, you raised an eyebrow, but didn’t question him. the wine had left you feeling pleasantly hazy, and you were more focused on continuing your easygoing conversation than worrying about where you were headed.
“so, tell me,” you began, your words slightly slurred but still coherent, “why do you always pick these fancy places? are you still trying to impress me, Gun?”
Gun glanced at you, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “maybe i just like seeing you all dressed up,” he teased, his voice as smooth as the leather seats you were sitting on.
you laughed, leaning back in your seat and looking out at the unfamiliar road ahead. “well, it’s working. but you know, you don’t have to go all out every time. i'm just as happy with oversized t-shirt, most stupidest comedy and you.”
“noted,” he said with a small nod, though there was a hint of something more serious in his tone. “but tonight is special.”
you blinked, trying to process his words through the pleasant fog in your mind. “special? how so?”
“you'll see,” was all he said, and you let it go, too relaxed and warm from the wine to press him further. conversation flowed easily between the two of you as Gun drove. night seemed endless, the road stretching out in front of you like a promise of more to come. when the car finally slowed and turned into a long, tree-lined driveway, you began to wonder just where he had brought you. the driveway was impeccably maintained, with tall, ancient trees on either side casting long shadows under the soft glow of strategically placed lights.
Gun parked the car in front of an imposing mansion, the kind you’d only seen in movies. building was grand, with tall windows that gleamed in the moonlight and a wide set of steps leading up to the front door richly decorated with mahogany. you stared up at it, your slightly inebriated mind struggling to catch up with the reality of the situation.
“Gun… where are we?” you asked, your voice tinged with awe and a hint of nervousness. he turned off the engine and looked at you, his expression unreadable. “this is my family's home,” he said simply, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
your heart skipped a beat. “wait… you mean… we’re meeting your family? tonight?”
he nodded, his gaze softening as he reached out to gently take your hand. “yes, tonight. i wanted you to meet them.”
panic began to bubble up in your chest, but it was quickly tempered by the warmth of his hand in yours. the wine had left you feeling too relaxed to fully grasp the gravity of the situation. Instead, you let out a soft, nervous laugh. “well, you could have given me a bit more of a warning,” you teased, squeezing his hand as you tried to keep the mood light.
“i didn’t want you to worry,” he replied, his voice steady and reassuring. “you’ll be fine. they’ll love you.”
before you could respond, Gun stepped out of the car and walked around to your side, opening the door for you. he offered you his hand, and you took it, letting him help you out of the car. as you stood there, staring up at the mansion, the reality of what was about to happen finally sank in.
you were about to meet Yamazaki Gun’s family. tonight.
you took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves, and looked up at Gun. he was watching you with that same calm, unreadable expression, but there was a hint of something else in his eyes — something that made you feel like everything was going to be okay.
with one last squeeze of his hand, you smiled and nodded. “alright then, let's do this.”
and to be honest, everything went better than you had expected. the Yamazaki mansion was truly grand, almost overwhelming in its size and elegance. the towering shoji screens, the polished wooden floors, and the delicate tatami mats all spoke of a family with deep roots and considerable influence. people you encountered within its walls — servants, distant relatives, or perhaps close family friends — were polite, yet cold. they carried themselves with an air of reserved dignity, their words carefully chosen, their expressions unreadable.
Gun guided you through the mansion with a familiarity that showed he had once called this place home. as you walked, you couldn't help but notice how much Gun resembled his father. the elder Yamazaki was a stoic man, tall and imposing, dressed in a traditional black kimono with a hakama. he carried an aura of authority, and though his demeanor was stern, there was something in his gaze — something that hinted at a really small softness beneath his cold exterior.
Gun's mother, on the other hand, was an elegant woman, the very picture of grace and strictness, wearing a beautiful, intricately patterned kimono. her hair was pulled back in a traditional style, and her movements were precise and measured. her eyes were sharp, watching you with an intensity that made you feel as if you were being evaluated at every turn. yet, despite the coldness in her gaze, she followed every formality with exacting precision, treating you with the respect and courtesy befitting a guest in their home. she spoke little, but when she did, her words were measured and polite, though they lacked any warmth.
as the evening drew to a close, and the final course after small greeting tea ceremony was cleared away, you felt a sense of relief. it hadn’t been as daunting as you’d feared, and you were proud of how well you’d handled yourself. you expected that Gun would now take you back home, and the two of you would quietly slip away from all formalities and coldness of this house. but then Gun’s father, in his deep, commanding voice, made a suggestion that took you by surprise. “why don’t the two of you stay the night? it’s late, and it wouldn’t be wise to drive in your current state.”
you glanced at Gun, waiting for him to politely decline, but to your shock, he simply nodded. “we’ll stay.”
you blinked in surprise, a slight panic rising in your chest. you were unprepared for an overnight stay, and the idea of spending the night in Gun’s childhood home — under the same roof as his parents — was suddenly very intimidating. you opened your mouth to protest, but Gun leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “don’t worry. my father asked us to stay because he wants to discuss some business matters with me in the morning. just relax.”
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with those words echoing in your head, you found yourself sitting on the edge of the futon, carefully prepared by the staff just a few minutes ago. the evening had been long and emotionally exhausting, but now, in the quiet of Gun’s childhood room, you felt a sense of calm begin to wash over you. after taking a shower, you had washed off the remnants of your makeup, feeling refreshed as the warm water rinsed away the day’s tension. the pleasant residue from the alcohol was still making itself felt, leaving you relaxed as you climbed into bed, where your boyfriend was already waiting for you.
Gun was lying on his back, his dark hair still damp from his own shower, his yukata loosely tied around his waist. as you slid under the covers, you immediately fell into his arms, finding comfort in the warmth of his embrace. you settled comfortably against his chest, inhaling the clean, subtle scent of his shower gel, mingled with the familiar warmth of his skin. it was a scent that was unmistakably his, grounding you in the moment as you let out a contented sigh.
for a few moments, neither of you spoke, simply enjoying the quiet intimacy of being alone together. the soft rustle of the futon as you shifted closer, the gentle rise and fall of Gun’s chest under your cheek — it all felt so peaceful, so right.
but as the silence stretched on, a small thread of anxiety began to tug at the back of your mind, and you couldn’t help but voice the question that had been lingering in your thoughts all evening. “do you think your parents liked me?”
Gun’s chest rumbled with a soft chuckle, and you felt his hand gently stroke your hair. “why do you ask? you were amazing tonight.”
“i just… i don’t know,” you murmured, feeling a little self-conscious. “your father was so serious, and your mother barely smiled. i couldn't tell what they were thinking.”
he let out another soft laugh, tilting your chin up so you could meet his eyes. “that’s just how they are. don’t take it personally. my father rarely smiles, and my mother… well, she’s always been a bit strict. but trust me, you made a good impression.”
you felt a wave of relief at his words, but you couldn’t resist teasing him a little: rolling onto your stomach, you now lay on top of him, folding your arms across his chest and resting your chin on them, you playfully asked "are you sure they're not just being polite to me?"
flicking your nose with his finger, he just laughed in response, the sound deep and genuine, and you couldn’t help but join in, the last remnants of your nerves melting away in the warmth of his laughter. but as your soft giggles subsided, the mood shifted, the lightheartedness giving way to something more intense. Gun’s eyes darkened - more, if it was even possible - as he looked at you, his playful expression fading into one of pure desire. without warning, he moved, his hands gripping your waist as he flipped you onto your back. you let out a surprised gasp, your heart skipping a beat as he loomed over you, his body pressing you into the futon. the sudden shift in his demeanor left you breathless, a thrill of anticipation coursing through you as his face hovered inches from yours.
“Gun…” you whispered, your voice barely audible as he lowered his head, his lips brushing against your neck.
“mmm?” he hummed in response, his breath hot against your skin as he began to trail kisses along the curve of your throat. his hands moved with a deliberate slowness, slipping beneath the folds of your yukata to find the smooth skin of your back. you shivered at his touch, your body responding to the gentle caress of his fingers as they traced a path up and down your spine. his kisses grew more urgent, more passionate, as if he couldn’t get enough of you. he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his lips moving hungrily against your skin as his hands roamed freely over your body. the fabric of your yukata shifted as he explored, his touch sending sparks of pleasure racing through your veins.
“Gun,” you gasped again, your fingers tangling in his raven hair as you arched into him, craving more of the sensation he was drawing from you. his hands were everywhere, gliding over the curve of your back, sliding down to cup your ass cheeks before moving up again, each touch sending shivers of pleasure rippling through you.
he pulled back slightly, his breath coming in shallow pants as he gazed down at you — your hair, disheveled and slightly damp from the shower, was scattered across the pillows, your breathing was a little ragged and the fabric of your yukata, pulled to the side, opened up a beautiful view of your chest, which was slightly heaving from confusion, your cheeks were burning with excitement and still a small amount of embarrassment, while due to the alcohol you barely remembered where you both were.
with a quiet growl, Gun again clung to your collarbones, his hands moved faster, skillfully, undoing the ties of your robe with practiced ease to pull the unnecessary fabric lower. without moving away from you even for a centimeter, he caressed your neck with his lips, moved up a little higher, biting the lobe of your ear and descending in a wet path lower, again to the collarbones, this time not lingering there, but going lower to your chest, clasping it with one hand and kneading it in his large, calloused palm. with each of his movements, you moved towards him more and more, forgetting yourself and melting in his arms, moaning from his each touch.
as he skillfully make the fabric fell away, leaving you exposed beneath him, he groaned softly, his eyes drinking in the sight of you.
“you are so beautiful” he murmured, his voice filled with reverence as he leaned down to capture your lips in a searing kiss. your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer as you melted into the kiss, losing yourself in the sensation of his mouth on yours, his hands on your body. right now there was only Gun, his touch, his warmth, the overwhelming passion that consumed you both.
“please” you whispered into his lips as he rose above you on his elbows again. one of his hands had already slid below your tummy, stroking your pussy with his entire palm, only fleetingly touching the sensitive bundle of nerves, pulling the first loud moan out of you.
“come on kitten, be quiet, you remember where we are” Gun's hot whisper enveloped your ear as his fingers continued to play with your wet pussy. “you know, this is a traditional old style house, the walls here are extremely thin” your boyfriend continued to whisper in your ear, enjoying your once again confused look as your cheeks flushed with renewed vigor. “you don't want anyone to hear us, do you, baby?” now one of his fingers slid up and down between your lips, smearing the moisture oozing out of you all over the entrance. he was lying on his side next to you, one of his hands reached under your neck as he place one finger in your mouth, making you suck and lick it with your tongue, while his other hand never left your pussy, now more insistently stroking and massaging your clit with one finger, while the other played with your tight entrance, pushing finger in just halfway.
time seemed to stand still as you surrendered to him, your body responding to his every caress and touch, every kiss, every whisper. the intensity of the moment, the way he made you feel cherished, desired, loved—it was all-encompassing, leaving you breathless and yearning for more.
and that's when you reached your first peak from his fingers caressing you deep inside, when your hot and wet walls tightened around him, and you could no longer stifle your moans with his fingers behind your cheek, only then Gun smiled insidiously, and with one light movement turned your softened body back onto your stomach. without wasting a second, his hands dug into the soft skin of your sides, right where he could feel the pelvic bones, and with your clouded brain you already assumed that there would be traces there in the morning. reaching for a pillow, and pushing it between your thighs and the futon, Gun hurriedly, casually stroked your pussy, passing from bottom to top, collecting all the juices of your previous orgasm, simultaneously stroking his cock, smearing mix of your saliva and his own spit along the entire length.
whimpering softly and burying your head in the pillow, in an attempt to stifle your moans, you gasped, clutching at the edges of the futon and the blanket under you, as the fat tip of his dick slowly squeezed into your tensed, gummy folds, painfully stretching you. a deep and heavy moan was heard from behind when Gun collapsed on top of you with all his weight, completely plunging his fat dick into your bosom, in one sharp movement, immediately hitting the g-spot, forcing you to arch your back, pressing your ass harder into his hips. with a satisfied purr, Gun covered your hands with his own, fastening them together into a lock, again leaning closer to you with his all body, pressing you into the thin mattress, he began to slowly move inside your warmth.
with each strong thrust, as he picked up speed, with each of his heavy breaths into your neck, it became harder for you to hold your ass higher, as well as your moans, almost drowned out by the pillow. over and over, as Gun's thick cock filled your gummy, warm walls completely, your eyelids grew heavy and your head fell back, right on his shoulder, as your jaw dropped, allowing sweet moans and whimpers to escape from your throat.
“kitten still wants the whole house to hear her, mm?” your boyfriend purrs breathlessly in your ear, mercilessly hammering into your poor pussy, forcing you to give up, and fall on the bed with your whole body, and only moan piteously when one of his arms wraps around your neck and closes your mouth, and the other one gets tangled in your hair, pulling it back just a little.
you never doubted that in the matter of bed, Gun always was a bit more wild and animalistic, but the way his hips slammed into you now, how heavy balls were beating against your clit, and the dirty sounds of squelching and slapping skin against skin, how his biceps tensed right where your cheek lay, all this made your eyes roll up to the back of your head and just whine pathetically under him and drool on his muscles.
you didn't even have the strength left, to hold still, all that helped him mercilessly hammer you into the mattress was the pillow under your hips while you lay under him and helplessly muttering incoherent words and praises. both intoxicated by the euphoria of sex, emotions and feelings, the two of you have lost your sense of time and space, just chasing your own peak and pleasure. to be honest, you didn't think much when your pussy covered Gun's twitching dick with cream, when he hitted his pink head right to the cervix, forcing you to scream and arch towards him, pressing your ass into his hips, and feel with your shoulder blades as his chest pressing you into bed.
and to be completely honest, you almost didn't remember how you both cum, the most important thing that was in front of your eyes was Gun's chest and his warm hand gently caressing your back, while he murmured something into your hair, when he covered you both with a blanket and you fell into a sweet sleep.
· ┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ꕥ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·
BONUS ;
the morning sunlight filtered softly through the shoji screens, casting a gentle glow over the room. you blinked awake, feeling the warmth of the futon and the lingering scent of Gun beside you. but as you turned over, reaching out to pull him closer, you found his side of the bed empty and cold. confusion washed over you as you sat up, realizing he was gone.
events of the night before came rushing back, and a deep blush crept over your cheeks. you buried your face in your hands, mortified at the thought of facing anyone after what had happened. Gun's parents, the staff — how could you possibly look them in the eye now? the thought of leaving the room made your heart race with anxiety, so you resolved to stay put, hoping to avoid any awkward encounters. minutes ticked by, each one stretching out into what felt like an eternity. you had no idea where Gun had gone or when he'd be back, leaving you in an uncomfortable solitude.
and just as you were about to retreat further under the covers, there was a soft knock at the door. your heart skipped a beat, dread pooling in your stomach. before you could respond, the door slid open, and Gun’s mother stepped inside.
she was impeccably dressed, her expression calm and composed. you immediately lowered your gaze, unable to meet her eyes, but she approached with a certain grace, her footsteps barely making a sound on the tatami mats.
“good morning,” she greeted you, her voice steady.
“m-mrs. Yamazaki,” you stammered, still unable to look up. “i-i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to-”
“stop,” she interrupted, her tone firm but not unkind. “you have nothing to be sorry of. it’s natural.”
you finally dared to glance up at her, confusion flickering in your eyes. she took a seat beside you on the futon, her movements deliberate and serene. “you’re a woman, and you’re desired and loved. there’s nothing shameful about that. that’s just the nature of men — wild and unbridled when a woman is around. i was in your place once, and someday, you’ll be in mine.”
you blinked, taken aback by her words. was that… a blessing?
“wait,” you began hesitantly, “so… you heard everything?”
mrs. Yamazaki let out a soft sigh, a hint of amusement flickering in her eyes. “i’m not an idiot. from beginning i saw the way my son looks at you. and i know Yuzuru well enough, and what’s going on in his head, to prepare your bedroom far away from our own.”
your cheeks burned hotter, the mortification almost unbearable. “so… you didn’t hear?”
she paused, a knowing smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “let’s say the whole mansion didn’t hear you… but maybe some part of it did.”
you swore you caught a fleeting, light, and kind laugh in her voice, and for a moment, the tension between you eased. there was a warmth in her tone that you hadn’t expected, something almost motherly and understanding.
“i...” you trailed off, still unsure of what to say.
mrs. Yamazaki reached out, gently placing a hand on your shoulder. “you are welcome here, as long as you make my son happy. and believe me, i haven't seen him this happy in a very long time.”
her words soothed some of the anxiety gnawing at you, and you managed a small, grateful smile. “thank you.”
she nodded, standing up gracefully. “now, come along. breakfast is ready.” as she turned to leave, you felt a sense of relief, the earlier embarrassment slowly fading.
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author's note 3 ; I FOUGHT INNER DEMONS TO FINISH IT I SWEAR!! SORRY THAT SPICY PART WASN’T THAT JUICY AND STUFF, I STILL NEED TO LEARN HOW TO WRITE PORN…HOPE U GUYS LIKE IT😤😤🫶🏻
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ur-local-anti-hero · 6 months ago
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Speak now
James Potter x Malfoy!Reader
Summary: If the marauders are against something, its agaisnt pureblood families ideologies. Sometimes that implies to wreak havoc on a white veil occasion.
Genre: Hurt/comfort, Fluff and a tiny bit of Angst. Arranged Marriage
CW: Forced Marriage, Familiar problems, talks about blood purity and blood traitors. Breaking into a weddig idk.
Word count: 2.2K
This is part of my Speak Now (Marauders’ version) collection 
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“So don't say yes, run away now. I'll meet you when you're out of the church at the back door.
Don't wait, or say a single vow. You need to hear me out”
When you were younger you saw a fair amount of weddings. They were always presented to you as big emotional events in which two people promised eternal love to each other. 
Even when you didn't know anything about love as a kid, it was no wonder that you yearned to have your own wedding once you grew up. It was a dream to have your own white dress, a beautifully decorated venue and a partner you loved so deeply you’d be willing to spend your whole life with them. 
Looking back maybe you should’ve known better. The first sign should’ve been your surname. A Malfoy has expectations they have to meet, keeping the bloodline pure, for starters. 
The second one should’ve been your parents’ loveless marriage, when you were younger you used to wonder why they’d married at all, now it was quite obvious. 
The third and most evident should’ve been when Andromeda Black was disowned. At that time you didn’t truly understand what that entailed, and why it was such a hassle that she wanted to get married. Now you understood that the problem was not the wedding, if not the groom. 
All your fantasies about the commonly named ‘Big day’ were completely shattered when your 18th birthday came, and with it a letter from your parents which contained the name of your soon to be husband. You tried to fight it, which only made your parents move the date of the wedding forward and get you out of Hogwarts, your education didn’t matter anymore to them now that your future as a housewife was inevitable. And being away from Hogwarts also meant being away from the ‘bad influences’ in your life. 
Now the corset of your white dress was suffocating, you felt trapped. Looking at the mirror was like looking at someone else. The girl with lifeless eyes and heavy make-up that couldn’t hide her eyebags was supposed to be you, yet it felt like a perfectly modelated version of yourself, made to impress the high class families attending the wedding. 
Narcissa’s gentle hands were bradding your hair, finishing your look before the wedding. Usually her presence was able to calm you down. Ever since she married your older brother, Lucius, her presence was regular in family gatherings and you’ve always felt some kind of kinship with her, seeking shelter on her whenever the phony and pompous encounters became too overwhelming.
You could attribute your shifted feelings towards her to the fact that she was unknowingly preparing you for eternal misery, or maybe because she was replacing the ones who you would’ve chosen as bridesmaids - there was no place for muggleborns in an event celebrating the union of two pureblood heirs -. Or even because it was her little cousin the one you were to wed. 
“You look beautiful” said Narcissa once she was done with your hair. 
You nodded and gave her a small thank you. However, you disagreed completely, the girl she was looking at was not you, it was your parent’s perfect daughter. 
“You do look lovely, father and mother are going to be delighted” your brother’s voice came from the door, where he was leaning on. “I brought you some company” he gestured behind him. 
Pandora and Dorcas stormed into the room, the former embracing you into a tight hug when they spotted you. Lucius and Narcissa left the room. 
“How are you holding up?” Pandora asked as soon as the door closed behind Lucius and Narcissa. Her arms were still holding you tightly, Dorcas standing behind her. 
You shrugged at her, not being able to talk due the knot in your throat and the tears threatening to fall from your eyes. You kept your eyes glued to the mirror. 
Pandora stepped out of the hug and stood next to Dorcas, who had yet to speak. 
“Evan and Barty are with Regulus, I swear I never thought I would see him in a tux” said Dorcas, trying to make conversation. The thought of Regulus being in the same situation as you didn’t make you feel better, the knot in your throat was getting tighther by the second. You promised to yourself you wouldn’t cry anymore, to be honest you thought you had run out of tears days ago. 
“Sirius is here too” Pandora was trying to distract you from the wedding. If she was being honest with herself there was nothing they could do to make you feel better. But maybe knowing that your best friend was out there could help a little. 
That made you finally look away from the mirror, a small wave of hope cursing through you. If Sirius was here it meant that James could be too. In the eyes of your family his family’s name was not good enough for yours, but maybe it was enough for him to be a guest. 
Maybe it was selfish to wish for him to be there when you knew how much it would hurt him, but you needed to talk to him, he was the only one who could actually comfort you right now, the only presence that would make everything feel normal again. You yearned to feel his touch against your skin and his lips against yours, even if it was for one last time, as a farewell. 
“Is he… Is James here?” you spoke for the first time. 
The answer was clear in the pitiful look they gave you even before Pandora replied with a soft ‘no’. 
You don’t know what did it, if the look in the faces of your friends or the fact that you would never see James again, but tears started rolling down your face. In seconds you were being embraced by Pandora again, and Dorcas’ hand was wiping away your tears. 
“It’s okay, you are going to be okay” Pandora didn’t believe her own words, but there was little she could do to calm you down and you both knew it. 
There was a knock on the door and your dad’s voice came from the other side “Y/N, it’s time” 
Pandora gave you a squeeze before letting you go from the hug. They both left the room, not without giving you a forced smile. 
“Oh, merlin” you said to yourself as soon as you were left alone, going back to the mirror, you wiped the few tears that were left on your face, and tried to fix the smudged make-up around your eyes with your fingers. You didn’t want to give your parents the satisfaction of seeing how much this affected you. 
Once you looked mildly presentable again you exited the room. Your father was waiting for you and he offered you his arm to lead you towards the venue. 
You could see the whole venue from the end of the aisle. The green and black motives contrasted beatifully with the white flowers decorating the aisle and the top of the altar. The guests were placed in black chairs at both ends of the aisle. 
You weren’t brave enough to lift your glaze from the ground, knowning that you wouldn’t see the love of your life waiting for you as you had dreamt since you were a kid. The heavy veil of your dress made your steps slow and lethargic. 
It was not until you were halfway down the aisle that you gathered enough courage to finally look at the man in front of you. Instead of the boy with unruly curly brown hair and eyes filled with love, there standing was Regulus, his black hair slicked back and eyes drowned by the same defeated look you wore. 
Once you reached his side everything went in a blur, all you remember is him taking your hands into his and the officiant talking. 
“If anyone has any objection, speak now or forever hold your peace” 
You were really going insane because you swore you saw James standing at the end of the aisle, wearing a tuxedo and with his hand up in the air. 
“I oppose!” His voice was loud and clear, your eyes widened. 
All the guests' eyes went to his figure and several surprised gasps were heard. Maybe you were not hallucinating. 
───✥───
If Fleamont Potter ever found out how James was using his inherited cloak of invisivility he’d be horrified, or maybe oddly proud of his son. 
Not even James thought he would ever sneak into a highly patrolled wedding on a common Tuesday, but honestly if someone had told him a year ago he’d be doing this he wouldn’t be surprised. 
Sneaking in a wedding filled with pureblood families and slytherin students was the perfect setup for a Marauders prank. However, what would have surprised him would’ve been the reason for interrupting a white veil occasion. Dating a Malfoy was something he hadn’t expected to ever do, but you had gotten past all his defenses with your kind and bright personality that proved to be so different from your family’s pretentious ways. 
Therefore, he was now standing on the aisle you had walked minutes ago. He had a perfect view of you and Regulus from his stance, your white dress was gorgeous, and your hair was neatly done. If it weren’t for your puffy and bloodshot eyes, and the obvious defeated look in your face, a look that had no place in a wedding, he could almost believe this was a normal marriage ceremony. 
When you had received the letter from your parents you had been inconsolable, and rightfully so. James had tried everything to stop the wedding, he even went as far as asking your parents for their blessing and to be the one you'd wed instead of the Black heir. Turned out to be useless as his family had been marked as blood traitors for eternity. 
But James isn't known for giving up easily, and the Marauders were not going to let an opportunity to cause havoc pass by. 
With the promise of being on his best behavior, Sirius had convinced his parents to attend the wedding as a guest, acting as a mole for his friends' plans. Remus and Lily were outside the venue with their ride home -a couple of broomsticks they borrowed from Hogwarts' supply closet. 
And the last part of the plan, and its success rested on James' shoulders. 
The preacher spoke 'Speak now or forever hold your peace' James smirked, that was his cue. It was on. 
James took off his invisibility cloak and without a single trace of shame or shyness in his voice James stated loudly "I oppose!"
James would've loved to stop for a moment to memorize the looks of complete horror in the faces of the guests, but he had to be fast and make total use of the element of surprise. 
Without hesitation James sprinted towards the altar. He could see the way your brother had stood up and pointed his wand at him, his spell being intercepted by Sirius' expelliarmus spell. 
As soon as James made it to the altar chaos erupted from everyone in the venue, he could make out the shouts of your parents and some spells that were being intercepted by yours and James' friends. 
At the sight of James Regulus let your hands go, he raised his arms in defeat and left the altar without much hassle. 
"Gentleman" James greeted Regulus' groomsmen, Barty and Evan who were just as stunned as everyone, all they could do was nod in acknowledgement to James, not even trying to interfere. 
"Hi, love" he was finally looking at you, your eyes were wide with surprise and tears were gathered in your waterline. James took your hands in one of his and the other was raised to stroke your cheek. 
“James what- how-” you were completely astonished, and unable to formulate a single phrase. You knew your boyfriend loved you, and the lengths he would go to prove it, but you would have never guessed he’d be willing to break into your wedding ceremony. He was always proving you wrong. 
“Hey Peter, mate, it’s your moment to shine” Following james’ words a rat came out of his pants’ pocket. 
And suddenly Peter was standing in front of you. He pushed the appalled officiant slightly to the side and took his place. 
Peter cleared his throat before speaking “Do you, James Fleamont Potter, take Y/N Malfoy as your wife?” 
“I do” 
“Do you, Y/N Malfoy, take James Fleamont Potter as your husband?” 
You could hardly mutter a low “I do” before Peter spoke again 
“I declare you husband and wife. You might kiss the bride” 
James didn’t hesitate for a moment. To add dramatism he spun you around and dipped you, holding your weight with his arm. And without waiting for another second he kissed you, sweet and slow, conveying all his love for you with that gesture. 
When you became breathless you broke the kiss and looked at James straight into his beautiful eyes, which only show deep adoration. “I love you” you mouthed to him, which made his eyes sparkle with joy and a wide grin to break into face. 
He took you in his arms bridal style and walked down the aisle. You coudln’t even care about the chaos and spells that were aimed your way, all you could look at was James. 
And as he muttered “I love you too, Miss Potter” you knew he’d do anything to prove his love for you. 
Author's note: This one is of my faves of the collection ngl, James is my soft spot Thank you for reading! Likes, comments and reblogs are welcomed and very appreciated. I'd love to hear what you thought about it so don't be shy!! To be part of the taglist Dm me or send me an ask <3 Taglist @feral-posts @izuoyarmin @aremuslupinsim @yourfavgay @imobsessedwitholiviarodrigo 
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ghost-proofbaby · 1 year ago
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twenty four hours (modern eddie munson x fem!reader)
HOUR TWENTY ONE
in which you try everything you can to make eddie feel better after his encounter with chrissy - to make him forget, to make him feel cherished, to make him feel worthy.
→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn
→ warnings: strong language, a single use of Y/N, smut (p in v), oral (m receiving), voyeurism, edging, good old fashioned ball worship if you squint, maybe some sub!eddie if you squint even harder, upside down does not exist, minors dni
→ wc: 7.3k+
→ a/n: shout out to @hellfire--cult for the balcony idea. i knew i'd get them there at some point, little freaks. and everyone say thank you to @icallhimjoey for the early post 😏
masterlist.
spotify playlist.
◁ previous part, next part▷
21:00 ─────────────ㅇ── 24:00
HOUR TWENTY ONE - 12:00 PM
STEVE-O: why do you guys suck so much at providing photographic proof of being alive? seriously
You’ve been staring at Steve’s text ever since the two of you arrived back at the apartment. You’d reply soon enough, but for now, the message was a distraction.
Eddie wasn’t speaking to you.
Not in a brooding sense, but in a way that let you know he was too far gone in his own head right now for you to reach him. When you’d said those words to him, when you’d admitted that you found him worth it, you saw his eyes glaze over slowly. You’d watched in real time as he slipped away from you. It might be that he doesn’t believe you, it might be guilt that continues to gnaw at him for a past that can’t be changed — whatever it is, you hate it.
The easy solution would be to send Steve the photos from the cafe, but you’d already tried that. Your thumb had hovered over that photo of Eddie with a mouthful of croissant, still bright and brilliant before all his waves of self-hatred had gotten ahold of him, and you just couldn’t. It was selfish, it was ridiculous, but you couldn’t share that piece of him with others. Some small, childish, hopeless bit of you needed to cling to the man in that photo and keep him safely inside your chest. It wasn’t a new version to your friends, they’ve always tried to defend Eddie and convince you he wasn’t all bad, but it was new to you. It was all so unexpected and unforeseen, the look behind his golden eyes as he seemingly looked right past the camera and right into you. 
No, you couldn’t send that photo. It was for your eyes only. A souvenir you had greedily stolen. 
Eddie had excused himself to the bathroom when you two arrived at the apartment, and this time, there was no dirty intentions behind it. You left well enough alone — he needed a moment to be by himself and that was fine. You could entertain yourself until he was ready to come back to you, back down to Earth. Right now, you were currently picking apart an almond croissant as if it were the most interesting thing you’d ever laid eyes on. 
Croissant dissection — see? You absolutely could distract yourself in order to give him space. Absolutely no sarcasm there.
You finally sigh when you see a message bubble pop up with three little dots, signifying Steve is typing again. You don’t give him the time to properly finish out his message before you click on your camera icon, snap a shot of the picked apart croissant in front of you, and send a message with the image attached.
YOU: we were eating breakfast, eddie’s been in the bathroom. happy, mom?
STEVE-O: he’s been in the bathroom for an entire hour? 
YOU: oh, you know how you men get with toilet time. 
Despite the playful tone of your texts, your face is completely flat, chest still heavy as you think about Eddie behind the wooden door. Should you be giving Eddie this amount of space? What if it’s doing more damage than good?
You’re about to stand from the stool you’ve occupied for nearly ten minutes now and go try your hand at knocking, try and remind Eddie that you’re still here, when Steve’s next text comes through. 
STEVE-O: stop bullshitting me. what happened? 
You swear you taste metallic blood from how hard you bite down on your bottom lip, staring at the mocking message. You can’t even begin to explain to Steve what has transpired, not just this last hour, but the entirety of the time. The parking garage, the joking marriage, Chrissy showing up, Eddie’s painful vulnerability – you can’t find the words to tell him about any of it. The same as you can’t find it in you to send the photo of Eddie in Betty’s. 
YOU: nothing happened. do you need any more proof than that?
He only reacts to your message with a thumbs up. You assume that means you’re in the clear, for now. 
When you exit your thread of messages with Steve, a new thread that has been started catches your eye. It’s a new number, no contact on it. The only message sent is from you – the photo of you with your coffee, head thrown back and eyes shut with a wide smile boosting your cheeks. 
Eddie’s phone number. 
You look at the photo of yourself for a while, trying to not cringe at your appearance. To you, you just looked ridiculous. You don’t understand why Eddie wanted this photo preserved so badly. Your smile is too wide, your eyes are mere slits from the way your cheeks were squishing up with joy, most of your makeup you’d started the night with has long since faded due to a multitude of activities. You don’t feel like anything special in this photo.
But Eddie had wanted it. He had deemed this moment in time of you as picture-worthy, had gone so far as to send it to himself so that he’d have this memory even if you deleted it from your phone. 
Before you think too hard on it, you tap on that line of numbers and add a proper contact profile to it. 
EDDIE. You keep the contact name simple, eager to get it out of the way as you move onto the next step. A contact photo. You don’t even have to ponder on it – in a flash, you’ve selected the picture of him with the croissant. 
You’re back on the thread of messages – or, at least, the singular message – and don’t stop yourself as your thumbs begin to fly over your keyboard.
YOU: why were the almond croissants almost sold out? 
To be fair, you didn’t even know if Eddie had his phone on him. That green message stares back at you for a few moments before you get your answer. 
EDDIE: Excuse me? 
He has his phone. You lift your head, looking at the closed door of the bathroom before glancing back down at your phone. 
YOU: because everyone went NUTS over them. 
You perk your ears and listen for any sign of life from down the hall. Anything. A scoff, a pitiful laugh, him calling you stupid aloud. You’ll take whatever he offers. 
It takes a moment, and you truly have to strain to hear it, but you can hear the laugh that would better pass as a sigh. 
EDDIE: Is that supposed to be a joke? 
YOU: ‘supposed to be’. excuse me, it was definitely a joke. and a very good one, at that. 
EDDIE: Debatable. 
You find yourself smiling down at the phone. Your neck aches from the way you keep glancing up suddenly at the door, silently pleading for him to come back out. To come out and fight with you, come out and bicker with you, come out and ignore you. Anything, for him to leave the bathroom and do anything but keep that door shut between you two. 
He doesn’t, so you send another bad joke. 
YOU: what did the customer say when they looked at the croissant? 
This time, he plays along. 
EDDIE: I don't know, what? 
YOU: what a BREADtaking sight. 
This time, you hear a more proper scoff come from within the bathroom. 
YOU: i heard that. don’t even try to tell me it wasn’t funny. 
EDDIE: I’m not laughing because they’re funny. I’m laughing because they’re BAD. 
YOU: bet you wouldn’t say that to my face. 
Immediately, you discard the phone, facedown on the counter as you look up to the door with unbridled hope. He could always ignore the comment, choose to not respond and continue to sulk away from you. It’s entirely possible – but you pray to every star in the sky that that isn’t what he’s going to do. 
Please come back out. Please, even if just to sit in silence with me. 
Your prayers are answered.
Slowly, painfully slowly, you hear shuffling on the other side of the door and await for the click of the door unlocking. It never comes, though – the door was never locked in the first place. He opens it, and you realize that the entire time, you could have stormed into the small room with him and demanded that he not hide away.
But you didn’t. You gave him space, gave him patience, and it’s clear he knows this as he comes out. 
His eyes are red. As if he’s been crying. 
“Hi,” you meekly say, taking in his face past those red-rimmed eyes. The tip of his nose is a fading shade of pink, as if he’s been rubbing it incessantly, and he sniffs for good measure as he turns the bathroom light off and walks to where you are. 
“Hi,” his voice is rough around the edges as he greets you back. He won’t look you in the eye once he’s within reach – his gaze remains downcast, and you catch him fiddling with a few of his rings. 
You hadn’t considered what you would do if you got this far. In every carefully considered scenario, you’d assumed he’d shut you out. You never expected him to come straight to you, as if seeking out comfort from you, without you having to beg it of him. 
His eyes catch the croissants on the counter, torn apart and lazily picked at. He’s about to open his mouth and say something about it, probably questioning what you had done to the poor pastry, but you don’t give him a chance. You’re quick to snatch up one of the pieces you’d been picking apart to snack on for yourself and hold it out to him. An olive branch, an offering – a reason for him to sit and stay for a while with you. 
He takes it tentatively, finally looking you in your eye again as he takes a small bite. It’s nothing compared to the bite he had taken when you’d snapped the photo of him, mere crumbs compared to that mouthful. 
“Did you just… massacre our croissants?” he questions, squinting his eyes down at the crime scene. 
You shift your body jokingly, failing at blocking him from seeing the mess you made, “Absolutely not. I have no clue what you’re talking about.” 
He almost cracks a grin, “Right. Of course. I must be imagining things.” 
“Wanna hear another pun?” you blurt out, suddenly nervous as he continues to stand before you. You hate the incessant need inside of your chest that calls for you to comfort him, to make this all better for him. 
“I feel like you’ll tell me one even if I say no,” he raises an eyebrow at you, “So, sure.” 
“Why did the croissant go to the doctor?”
He hums, trying to peer over your shoulder again at the croissants you were badly hiding, “Let me guess. Is it because you tore it apart mercilessly?” 
“No,” you scoff, reaching behind you to grab another piece to offer to him as well as one of your own, “It was because he was feeling crummy, dumb ass.” 
A crack of a smile. It’s miniscule but there. It makes that terrible pun worth it, just to see him not looking quite as defeated is worth all the stars in the sky at this point for you. 
You’d certainly been the reason for his unhappiness in the past, and you surely would be again at some point. It all feels so inevitable; just as he believes that he can only bring you misery, you can’t imagine yourself bringing him joy. A belief that strikes something in your chest, something albeit more painful than you’d care to admit, but it’s true. You’ve crossed a line, you’ve changed everything, but the past still remains. 
You aren’t perfect. Neither is Eddie.
Heartbreak is imminent, but for this brief moment, you can make him smile. You don’t need to worry about the next time you’ll piss him off or upset him, you just need to focus on making that twitch on his lips more permanent. 
“I meant what I said earlier, by the way,” you decide to rip off the bandaid as he moves as if to sit beside you. Quickly, your words make him freeze. A bad sign, but you push through, because he needs to hear these things, “You deserve good things, Eddie. Good people, good things- you just… you deserve those things in your life.” 
“I don’t.”
“You do.”
He’s turning away from you. Turning and heading to the living room, walking away from you.
You don’t let him. In an instant, you get onto your feet and follow him, continuing despite him acting as if he’s finished with the conversation. You’re not.
“You’re a good person, Eddie,” you insist, reaching out for him before he makes it to the couch, “Don’t walk away from me.”
He spins easily in your grip. “Just because you say something, doesn’t make it true, sweetheart.”
He’s back to saying it like a curse. Like it’s a harmful title. As if it’s not a privilege to you and all your metaphors to hear that nickname fall from his lips. 
Right before your eyes, his defenses are on the rise. Brick by brick, he’s slowly reforming those walls to separate the two of you. Instead of defeat, instead of acceptance, it just makes you angry.
“Stop doing that,” you say quietly, carefully, firmly.
“Stop doing what?”
“That. Pushing me away. Locking me out,”  you tighten your hand on his bicep and watch the way his nostrils flare, “I fucking hate it.”
“Despite what you believe,” he takes a step closer to you, “Not everything I do is meant to piss you off.” 
“That’s not what I’m saying, and we both know it,” you can feel his muscles tense beneath your touch.
This time, his smile that emerges is cold. But you can still see the rubbage left by his tears — pink water lines and a new puffiness around his eyes. His words and his sudden cool demeanor can’t hurt you when you see it for what it is.
“Clearly we both don’t know it,” he chastised you, “We are very rarely on the same page. This isn’t a damn exception. You don’t have to prove your point, it doesn’t matter.”
He’s a wounded animal, striking out. He’s letting Chrissy’s words get to him.
“You’re worth i-“
“Don’t,” One of his hands shoot out to grip your waist, “Don’t fucking say that. Please. Don’t say it if you don’t mean it.” 
He didn’t believe you. 
“I meant it,” you whisper, anger shaking out of your grasp inch by inch as you realize that your words can’t break through to him, “I mean it. You’re worth it, to me, to St-“
“This isn’t about Steve,” he cuts you off, “It’s not about Steve, or Nancy, or Robin, or fucking Argyle. No need to play dumb anymore.” 
It’s about you.
You both know it. For once, contradictory to what he’d just claimed, you’re both on the same page. And like he said, no need to play dumb. 
“You’re worth it to me,” you say it with more confidence this time, “You’re a good person to me.” 
“How can you say that?” he laughs out, void of amusement, “How can you say shit like that after everything we’ve been through?”
How can you not?
You only squeeze his bicep tighter, and he returns the action by gripping your hip harsher. “Because I mean it. I believe it. Whether you do or not.” 
For a moment, the cracks in his armor expose themselves. 
“You shouldn’t,” his voice should waver, “You shouldn’t believe those things, Y/N. You should hate me.” 
“But I don’t,” And I never did.
“But you don’t,” he echoes.
You’ve done the opposite of what you had wanted. His smile is gone, that sadness creeping back up. You hate that. You don’t hate him — you hate that world of mourning behind his eyes, that defeat that brings his shoulders down and makes his grip on you falter. So you do the only thing you can think of to distract him. Make him forget.
“Make me hate you.” 
His eyes widen briefly, “Excuse me?”
“Make me hate you,” you practically beg of him, “Show me why you’re such a bad person and I’ll let this go. I’ll drop the conversation, we can- Fuck, we can forget this entire morning happened. Make me hate you, Eddie, and I’ll stop reminding you that I don’t.” 
His fingers curl back into you, slowly and gently, as his brows furrow. He’s considering what you’ve just said — more than that, you can see him trying to untangle all the hidden meanings behind it.
“And how do you suggest I do that?” his voice is low and calculated. 
You shrug, stepping forward, letting your lips get even closer to his, “Not my problem. Just make me.” 
The fingers are no longer gentle as he pulls you into him, finally catching onto the emphasis you place on those two little words.
Make me.
When his lips meet yours, they’re rough and brutal, taking greedily what they want from you. The only thing on your mind is making him forget. Make him forget, carry the load for him — they’re both more important than making him smile for now. Both these driving needs burn brighter in your chest because it’s clear that’s what he needs. 
You’re willing to give him whatever he needs right now.
“You want me to make you hate me, baby?” he mumbled against your lip, practically drinking in the way you gasp as he starts to pull back, “Is that really what you want?”
It’s what you want. “Yes.” 
And maybe you do too, when he leans back in to bite your lip. There will be another time for you to convince him with words that you find him to be worth it. Both hands from wrap around you and rough start to guide you back towards that fucking couch.
“Not the couch,” you suddenly protest, digging your heels into the carpet at the center of his living room, “Anywhere but the couch.” 
And oh, the way he’s looking at you in that moment might be your new favorite thing. Your new favorite color is his eyes as they sparkle with a bit of life that had been missing since the coffee shops encounter. Your new favorite sound is the silence that encases the little breath he lets out. Your new favorite movie is watching him move in slow motion as his eyes dart behind you, towards the door to his balcony, before his lips finally curl up with a hint of the genuine warmth that had been hidden behind his walls.
“Anywhere?” he teases, beginning to walk you backwards.
You nod, grinning right back at him.
“I think I have an idea.” 
If you had known twenty one hours ago that Eddie Munson, your sworn enemy, would have you out on his public balcony and on your knees for him in only a matter of time, past you would have….
Well, you don’t really care what past you would have done or thought anymore. You’re making him forget, yes, all while making yourself forget. You don’t care what you, twenty one hours ago, would or wouldn’t do as you let the past slip through your fingers so eagerly. All you can focus on is the dig of concrete against your knees, the way Eddie’s hands grip the railing as he leans against it, and the way the early afternoon sun forms a halo around him as you look up through fluttering lashes.
You just want to make him feel good. Every action is intentional, doing everything in your power to erase whatever storming thoughts had been haunting him so cruelly since Chrissy had so carelessly said what she had. You want to make him feel worthy. You want to make him feel loved.
Loved. You certainly didn’t love him — you couldn’t possibly, could you? He wouldn’t let you. You wouldn’t let yourself. But for now, you could play pretend; you could worship his body, drag his shirt out of the way and place playful kisses across his hips, and you could pretend that only this moment exists. 
“You wanna know what makes me such a bad person?” he sighs out as you let your teeth graze his skin, shoulders rolling to shake off that shiver you elicit from him, “This. The fact that this is all I can fucking think about.”
“Hm,” you can only hum in response, nails taking over the denim of the jeans he currently wore. You walk your fingers up his thighs, moving closer and closer to his zipper. Your mouth is nearly watering at the prospect of worshiping him. 
And the fact that any neighbor could walk out at any given moment and catch the two of you. You should probably insist on it being fast, on him being quiet, but the thought sends a thrill through the pit of your stomach. Your thighs clench and your cunt aches at the thought of being caught. 
You want to do more than make him bite back mere moans of your name. You want to make him scream.
Suddenly, a hand tangles into the roots of your hair, pulling back and making you focus on him again.
“Eyes on me,” he instructs. Once you focus on him and only him, he continues, loosening his grip and letting those fingertips rub at your scalp soothingly, “You know why you should hate me? For all the nights I pictured this.”
“Yeah?” you smile innocently, playing along. He can talk all he wants, you know once you get your mouth on him, he’ll be lucky to remember his own name. “How many nights, hm? Tell me all about them, pretty boy.”
You catch the wobble in his knees, the way his breathing picks up, the brilliant shade of ivory his knuckles stretch to. You lean back on your haunches, and the hand in your hair slips as he glowers down at you. 
“What are you-”
“Take off your shirt,” you calmly command.
“Excuse me?” 
“Your shirt. I want it off.”
His hand that was once tangled against your scalp now comes down to your face, movement slow but not hesitant as he pinches your chin. His thumb tugs on your bottom lip, and you let out, even making a show of letting your tongue peek out to tap at it. “And who said you were calling the shots?” 
“I did,” you put it simply, completely removing your hands from him now, “Take off the shirt, or I’ll leave you out here with blue balls.” 
You close your lips around the end of his thumb and his knuckles dig in deeper to the skin below your chin as you suck subtly. He chuckles, but you can hear just how breathless he goes at the small action, even as he keeps up the act with a hard press of his thumb on your lower lip. Your mouth hangs open for him, waiting patiently for his next move. 
A game of chess, an exchange of power, a fight for dominance. All the lines of who is and isn’t in control are blurred. 
“Have you always been so mean, baby?” he taunts, trailing what spit you’d left behind on his thumb along your lip. 
His movement stops when your lips spread into a provocative smile, “I learned from the best, didn’t I?” 
The retort had potential to backfire. You wait for smoke and glory, for him to pull away from you further. He’d slam down a brick right in front of your face, lay the mortar to leave you high and dry. He’d push you away, and you’d have to retreat, tail tucked between your legs in the shame of trying when it came to him. 
No smoke, no glory. He secedes, but makes no move to add to his walls, only removing his hand from your face and taking off the shirt. Just as you had told him to. 
“Better?” he asks as he makes a show of tossing the shirt to the other side of the balcony. It could have even flown over the railing, for all you paid attention to the scrap of clothing. Maybe some innocent bystander is on the streets below, confused to all Hell as to why it’s raining obscure band t-shirts. 
You’re just a bit too distracted to consider that right now. 
With Eddie’s torso revealed, all words seem to evade you. You catch the sweat beginning to gather across his sternum, watching the way he’s flushing beneath your gaze, reveling in the pink chest exposed to you as the blush crawls wider. Instantly, your original purpose is forgotten, the primal urge to pepper kisses and bites alike across his skin almost lifting you up off your sore knees. You want to leave bruises – you want to make him scream, you want to mark him up, you want to make him feel worthy. 
You stay on your knees, but compromise with all your wants as you lift up and stretch a bit. Your lips start their trail a bit lower than you (or Eddie) would have liked, taking their time to get familiar with the spanse of his rib cage first. You don’t nip with teeth, not yet. Just chaste kisses, lining each bone you can hardly feel residing beneath the skin, feeling his lungs expanding against your affection. Your tongue swipes alongside one of his side tattoos, a large and detailed dragon you hadn’t paid much mind to before. Every time you’d seen him shirtless, you’d been a bit distracted.
Not now. Now, you’re focused, determined to learn every curve and dip there is to explore on Eddie. You want to know him better than the back of your hands, memorize him more intricately than your own palms. After all, in order to worship a deity, you must know them. 
You return back to the center line of his abdomen, kisses chasing after one another, even taking the time to suck his skin between your teeth but never bite down. You pause once your lips rest right beneath his navel, the tip of your nose brushing that rough patch of hair that leads down to your end destination. Your hands reach for his belt, toying with the buckle.
Through heavy lashes, you look up at him, staring down at you in awe, “You know, you’re not doing a very good job at making me hate you, pretty boy. Think I might just have to worship you instead.”
A deity of your own making. A deity for your own taking. 
With skill, your hands undo the buckle effortlessly. You unbutton and unzip his jeans as if you’ve done this part a million times, as if you’d spent every single Sunday of the last year right here and doing exactly this. On your knees, worshiping him. This balcony, for all its exposure, certainly knows how to serve as a holy place. 
He opens his mouth to respond, but you’re impatient. You still haven’t left him speechless, meaning you still hadn’t made your point, clearly. 
His jeans hang loosely as they creep down his thighs, abandoned for a moment as you occupy your mouth against his hips. The hips you once thought would look so pretty properly decorated. You decide you were wrong – they don’t need ink burying into the skin, they need your teeth digging in. 
You cover that skin with mirroring images of bursts of purple and pink, flowering bruises that you take your time to mark onto him. With each suck and bite, Eddie rolls his hips into you, head leaned back and throat straining with each moan he swallows down. 
With the last hickey finished, you finally lean back, proud of your masterpiece as Eddie whimpers above you. Blooms in the shape of your lips mingle with faint and quickly fading teeth marks. 
“Fuck,” he gasps out when your fingertip stops trailing over your markings and comes down to apply the softest pressure over the straining bulge in his boxers. 
“What was it that you said earlier?” your finger traces over where you know a vein is – you know it because you’ve felt it, been driven insane by it – before circling around the wet patch now forming. He’s desperate, hips bucking again and a moan finally escaping. You think he’s bitten his lips hard enough in an attempt at self-restraint that they might be bleeding, “You said I’m not calling the shots, right?” 
“You’re not,” he pathetically grits out, hands forming tighter fists on metal railing, as if the moment he lets go of it they’ll find their way home to you. 
You lean forward, breath washing over his crotch before you place a feathery kiss to his clothed tip, “I’m not?” 
You are. You both know you are. A constant battle of control, an ever-growing fight for dominance. 
He lets out something crossed between a sigh of relief and a whine of protest when you remove your lips and hand from him completely, only to let out a sharp yelp when your finger curls into the waistband of his boxers and pulls back the elastic, letting it snap back into place sharply. 
“Say I am,” you barter, “Say I’m in control right now, and I’ll put my money where my mouth is.” 
You don’t expect him to break so easily. You’ve underestimated just how tightly you’ve caught him beneath your thumb.
“You’re in control,” he gasps out, head hanging low to meet your gaze fully, “You’re in complete and utter fucking control of me. You’re calling all the shots, baby. You always are.” 
He didn’t have to sweeten it up with baby, but it spurs you on. 
You shove his boxers down, watching his cock spring out for the taking. And you do as you promised; you put your money where your mouth is.
You start softly, taking your time as you gingerly suck on his pretty pink tip as you had his thumb. Hardly hollowing your cheeks, letting your tongue circle his slit to gather up the precum. You let the taste of him completely cover your tongue, even hum in satisfaction when he lets out a loud groan. It motivates you, feeds your fervor as you let his tip fall from your mouth and trail the tip of your tongue down the underside of his cock. That vein you’d traced with your fingertip, yours for the taking, covered in a faint line of saliva as you let it rest on your forehead and graze your lips against his ballsack. 
He can’t hide his shiver, even as his fist flies to his mouth to bite down on. 
“Have I ever told you how cute you are?” you say low enough for just him. You can hear the sounds of traffic, a dog barking, birds singing — all reminders of the outside world and the looming threat of being caught. Warmth floods you again at the reminder of that threat, thighs clenching closer together in a desperate search of friction, “Just falling apart for me, acting so tough for so long until I got you alone.” 
He whimpers your name. It’s the prettiest sound you’ve ever heard.
You wrap your lips around the sensitive skin, sucking and pecking away on one side before moving to the next. His reaction throttles your movements. When his hand loses the fight of resistance, coming down to the back of your head, you laugh breathlessly against the now wet skin. 
“Let me make you feel just how worthy you are to me,” you praise, pulling back finally, letting your nose brush against his sack as you do so. The hand that was once merely resting now tangles up in your hair — a warning. 
You let the velvet skin of his cock drag down your cheek as each movement is deliberate, taking your time and in no rush. You want to savor him like this. Imprint him to memory. 
You want to make him forget while making yourself remember. 
You want to remember the way his hand flexes at the base of your skull when you finally kiss his tip once more, remember the way his abdomen tenses as you sink him further into your mouth. You want to remember every little sound that escapes him as he hits the back of your throat, as you constrict around him, as you moan around his base and the vibrations have him slipping out of control. 
Your nails dig into his thighs to balance yourself, eyes watering as you look up at him. One subtle nod. He doesn’t need more than that.
Your jaw goes slack, trying to steady your breathing through your nose as you let him take control. His hips thrust at their own pace, gentle enough that he only grazes the back of your throat rather than bruise it. The issue is you want him to bruise it. You want him to mark you from the inside out. Until there’s no part of you left untouched by him. 
You gag again, and he slows. Your fingers that grip his thighs immediately tap against him, and he mistakes it as a signal to pull back completely before you chase after him, pressing him onto your tongue until your lips are snug around his cock a mere inch from the base. Your nose is grazing those pubes in the dead center of all your love marks. Shapes of semi-permanent scars that whisper, you’re worth it to me. I want this. I want you. 
The last thing on his mind was Chrissy Cunningham and her words alluding to him not being worth it. 
You make sure of it when you finally release him from your mouth and begin to pump with an eager fist, ducking down and returning to pay attention to his balls once more. You nuzzle the soft skin, let the tips of your canines graze them before you suck them onto your tongue as you’d done his cock. He’s no longer containing his moans – they flow freely along with curse words, chants of your name, sounds you’d love to capture and play on repeat until the end of your days. 
“Oh my God,” he groans out particularly loudly, “Fuck, baby. J-Just like that, please- Fuck. You’re doing so good for me. Such a good girl, just for me.” 
Your hand is still wrapped around him, slowly coming up to squeeze hard around the tip as you whisper up to him, “Only for you.” 
“Yeah? Only for me?” 
You don’t know how to explain to him that it’s true: you’re only ever that mean for him, you’re only ever this eager for him, you’re only ever this desperate for him. 
You don’t answer him with words. There are none. Instead, you take him back in your mouth, and you solely focus on bringing your deity to climax. The man you were worshiping, the man who was worth the ache in your knees that surely told you they would be left bruised, if not skinned. 
“Is it just like you imagined?” you question as you break your lips off him. He’s close, leaking precum excessively and entire body taut, “Was it worth it? To picture this, to want this so badly?” 
He almost can’t answer you, but somehow manages between pants, “It was. It is. You’re- fuck, you’re worth it.” 
“Good,” you drop your hand from him, leaving him right on the edge as you rest both sticky palms on the tops of your thighs. You look up at him with relinquished control – the perfect image of submission, for him. “Then you get it. When I say you’re worth it, you get it.” 
He’s clearly still reeling from you bringing him so close only to leave him hanging, teetering on a cliff as he stares you down. 
His chest heaves as he questions, “What was it you wanted me to do earlier?” A deceiving hand comes down, tucking any baby hairs behind your ear and cradling the side of your face. One moment, his thumb is stroking a soft arch beneath your eye, the next that hand is pulling you up, “Make you?”
You know that if you hadn’t been so eager to follow his touch, you’d still be on your knees. Even as you watch him take the reins, you know you will always call the shots – just like he had said. 
“You really think you can make me hate you?” you whisper once you’re standing tall in front of him, leaning your cheek into his touch.
“I shouldn’t have to make you hate me,” he corrects, the thumb back to gentle strokes, loosening the touch to be more tender once again, “You should already hate me.” 
“Why?” 
He flips positions immediately, your lower back now curving into the railing as he presses himself up against you, his achingly hard cock between your bodies, “Because of this. Because I always want you on your knees for me. Because of all the fucking filth I want to do to you. I want to bend you over, right here, and take you where anyone could see. I want to have you screaming my name loud enough that every single person on the streets of this city hears you.”
With each word, a knot ties inside of you, desperate for release. 
“Because you’re fucking right,” he leans down, lips going straight for your neck, not looking you in the eyes, “All it fucking took was for you to get me alone for one night, and now? I’ll never get enough of you, I’ll never get clean of you,” he takes a deep breath, and suddenly, his lips latch onto you, sucking the skin between his teeth and biting hard. You can’t stop your fingers from latching onto his curls, tugging hard, body rolling into his. It hurts, it stings, you need more, “Everything changes. And that includes me.” 
His face finally leaves the crook of your neck, pulling back to look you in your eyes. Doe brown eyes search yours, wide and honest and pleading. You let everything else melt away; for a moment, it’s only him and only you. The tension, the last twenty one hours, the last year — you let it disintegrate and focus on him.
It never mattered if everything changed. 
It only matters that he’s changed, irreversibly, and so are you.
“How can I hate you for those things?” you press into him again, this time less desperate and more consciously, “Do it.” 
“Do what?”
“All of it,” you trail a hand up his chest, “Every single thing you just said. Fucking- Do them. Bend me over, make me scream, change me,” your voice breaks, shaking with anticipation and need. 
It’s all the encouragement he needs.
Every single thing he wanted, he craved, he does. A flurry of him properly discarding his jeans as he unbuttons yours to shove them down, spinning you and shoving you hard enough into the railing that it digs into your abdomen and leaves you breathless. You’re hardly aware of the way you step out of your pants and kick them to the side, looking out to the city skyline but not seeing it. It’s all a blur as you focus on the way your shirt rides up and he grabs your hips, bruising you finally as you have desperately needed. 
You wanted to be left haunted by the end of these last few hours. You wanted to see him every time you looked in the mirror for the next week, to remember the map of where his body molded to yours. You want to dream of the way he stretches you as your underwear is ripped to the side. You want to be followed by the sounds of his skin slapping against yours as he snaps forward with intention.
Changing you. He has no idea that he’s already ripped you open from the inside out, has already rewired your entire chest and set flames to your brain. 
Everything changes, and sometimes, everything is only two people. Just you. Just him. New versions that would have never met had it not been for this stupid fucking bet.
“Eddie,” you nearly sob, nearly choke on, his name burning in your throat like kindling embers. 
His hand walks up your spine, trailing wildfire even with a layer of cotton between you two. Burning and singing away all you’d assumed for far too long. When he reaches the nape of your neck, he takes care in wrapping your hair around his wrist, tugging back hard and forcing you to stand from where the railing had been bending you in two.
“Say it again,” his lips brush you ear with every gasping breathing, timing with the way his cock is sliding in and out of your warmth, “Say it louder.” 
“Fu-“ you start to moan, cut off by him pulling even harder on your hair, making his point so that you cry out, “Eddie!” 
He thrusts harder. You swear you could feel him in your throat. 
“Scream for me, baby,” an arm wraps around your torso, firm and solid for you to cling to rather than the warming metal of the railing, “Tell them who’s making you feel so good. Let them know. Be a good girl.”
Even when he claims to have control, it’s your actions, your reactions, that call the shots.
It’s the echo of your voice that spurs him on as you chant his name over and over, as if he were your only God. Primal worship dripping from every syllable. It’s the tremble in your thighs that has him pressing deeper into you, chest glued to your back as if he could never get you close enough. It’s the clench of your cunt around him, a vice that sucks him in as you drag him closer to the high he’s been dizzily chasing since you first dropped to your knees in front of him. 
It’s you. You’ve changed him, as he’s changed you.
He pulls your hair until you rest the back of your head against his shoulder, back arching and feet still spread as he only maintains his quick and brutal pace, leaning down to whisper in your ear one last time.
“You know the real reason why you should hate me?” he grits out between to particularly forceful thrusts, “It’s not just because I don’t deserve you. It’s because I’ve wanted you for so long,” you’re right on the edge, fluttering around his cock as his movements stutter. A tell tale sign. “I- fuck, fuck. It’s- God, I’ve loved you for so long, and I’ll never be fucking worthy.” 
You shatter around him in waves. Your entire body tenses as the words dig claws into you, piercing through vines and blooms. His body stills, warmth flooding you deep within as you continue to see stars. You can’t make a single sound, fingerprints surely left behind on where you clasp onto his forearm. 
I’ve loved you for so long, and I’ll never be fucking worthy.
When the waves recede, when the high has passed its peak, you both freeze. Your body tensed in his hold, struggling to process what he’d just said. 
Loved you. 
He’s frozen in place, scrambling to figure out how to undo the damage just done. 
I’ve loved you for so long.
He slips out of you, his spent dripping down your thighs. His forearm drops from you. Your hands don’t even try to stop him.
I’ll never be fucking worthy.
You should be worried of neighbors coming out to see the two of you on his balcony. If not worried, you should be embarrassed, or aching at the thought once again. Anything. You should feel something.
You turn slowly to him, entirely numb as you catch his rueful expression.
Loved you. He loved you.
His regret turns to pain as you whisper, “What did you just say?”
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sugrhigh · 8 months ago
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HALLOWEEN - ( m.s )
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summary- you help your best friend matt with his makeup on halloween
warnings- none it’s cutie fluff
bff!matt x fem!reader
a/n: here’s a short little fluff piece i wrote a minute ago to hold you guys over for a bit!! more to come soon i promise
@fawnchives @l9vesick @junnniiieee07 @wurlibydominicfike @mazzystar111 @sturnlova @mattswrld @blueeyedbesson @urmommysbathroom @idkwhatthisevenislol
“will you quit shifting around? you’re messing me up.”
you’re so focused on getting his makeup perfect, and he won’t stop fidgeting, which doesn’t help. your bare knees press against his black jeans as you both sit criss-cross on his bed.
you're already in your costume, which is just a more adult version of dorothy, blue checkered dress and all.
“i’m not even moving!” matt protests, squinting one eye open to look at you.
“don’t do that either! keep ‘em closed.” you scold him, and he surprisingly listens.
matt feels your laugh fan across his face as you lean back in, and he can smell your light perfume. being this close to you always drives him crazy, whether you’re just friends or not.
“so damn rude.” he jokes with a small smile as you continue applying the dark eyeshadow to his eyes.
you’d already finished with the bottom half of his face; he’s a skeleton, teeth outlined around his mouth and cheekbones emphasized by the smoky makeup. he’s even got the shirt with a ribcage printed on it to match.
you’re copying an inspiration picture he found on pinterest, of all places, and you have to admit you’re doing a damn good job.
matt looks great. a little too good, with his face all scruffy against your hand and his hair messy across his forehead. it’s hard not to notice when you’re right up against him.
“who else is going to keep you in check?” you reply, adding a few finishing touches to some of the outlines and trying not to stare at him too much.
“true. you definitely know how to humble me.” matt says as you lean back a bit to observe your work.
“hey, i’m not always mean.” you find yourself frowning a little bit, and you’re not sure why his answer upsets you.
this time he fully opens both eyes, that striking shade of blue, and he looks at you like you’re crazy.
“sure you’re not.” he says sarcastically, and your eyebrows furrow further.
his small grin fades when he notices your own expression, and matt nudges his knee against yours gently.
“i was just joking. i love you, even when you’re kind of cranky.”
this makes you smile, even though you try to fight it. you have to admit you’re not always the nicest, and that sometimes you do have a bit of a guard up with him.
it’s just because you love him as so much more than your best friend, and it scares you. looking into his eyes right now is scaring you even more, and you see his gaze flick at your mouth.
“your makeup is all done, princess.” you tease matt softly, and he licks his lips.
now he can see you staring at his mouth, and it makes his stomach erupt with butterflies. it’s embarrassing how many times he’s thought about kissing you throughout this process, having you just inches from his face as you helped with his costume.
maybe that’s why he liked the idea so much in the first place.
“then i guess we better get going, sweetheart.” he taunts you back, and you suck in a breath.
a stroke of silence passes between the two of you, one of the most charged moments you’ve ever experienced with him.
“tell me not to kiss you,” matt says quietly as he leans in, lips so close to yours you swear you can almost feel them, “tell me it’s a stupid idea.”
“i…i can’t do that.” you mumble, just loud enough for him to hear.
he can’t take it anymore. he closes the final bit of distance between the two of you so that he can capture your mouth with his own.
it’s steady and sweet, and you’re just so glad it’s finally happening. you put a hand on his chest, pulling away after a good minute.
you’re breathing a bit heavy and so is he, both unable to contain your smiles. you smudged his makeup a bit, so you reach up and fix it with your finger gently.
“sorry, i didn’t mean to ruin your hard work.” matt apologizes.
“it’s okay, i liked it enough to forgive you.” you tease him, giving him one more careful peck just for the hell of it.
he laughs, and it’s his turn to extend his hand out, using his thumb to wipe the black streaks off of your lips. your heart feels like it’s going to explode, and you don’t know how you’re going to go to this party with all of your friends and act normal.
“we should do that more often, maybe when i’m not a skeleton.” he suggests, dropping his hand back into his lap with a grin.
“you’re actually right for once, because we really should.” you joke, licking your lips to make sure your own makeup still looks okay.
“what did you say earlier about being so nice?” matt tilts his head, eyebrows raised in a knowing look.
“hey, i never said nice, i said not always mean.” you point out, and he chuckles again as he shakes his head.
he’s about to respond when chris throws the door open and both of you flinch hard.
“hurry it up, lovebirds. we’re going to be late.”
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ma1dita · 10 months ago
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trouble always finds me
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a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader
words: 1.7k 
summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where he could tell you were trouble from the day he met you. Luke’s perspective on trouble & how they first met! think trouble’s origin story (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader)
warnings: none, fluff? Mr. D being a clueless dad lol also guys they’re 14 here
a/n: welcome back to the trouble!verse hehe i was inspired by Mr. D being a bit of a jerk to Percy so that the kid doesn’t off himself. Similar concept but with Luke after he first gets to camp— another version for why trouble!reader calls him angelface coming soon
(posted 1/19/24, erm unedited and not beta’d so forgive me in advance)
You were always trouble, Luke knew that from the day he met you. 
Walking into Camp Half-Blood, worn out and weary after days of trying to not become harpy food, his arm was slung protectively over Annabeth’s shoulder as they were led onto the campgrounds. So many pity-filled eyes were focused on them after hearing what happened to Thalia, but the camp seemed promising, filled with other demigods who can resonate with what they’ve experienced. Luke thought it was too good to be true, but anything’s better in comparison to the streets they came from. You, however, looked at them in interest from afar, a playful expression on a pretty face watching their every move like him and Annie were shiny new toys to play with.
He was so sure something was off with you. 
Had to be, from the deranged glimmer in your eye that would appear when something bad would happen at Camp. He’d seen it in action a couple of times before you set your sights on him— setting off fireworks during capture the flag, replacing salt with sugar in the kitchens, cutting Mr. D’s hair in his sleep; all of this causing campers and staff alike to run amok and figure out who to penalize. Each time he’d find you enjoying how it all played out, excitement brimming on the cusp of revealing yourself as the culprit as he watched you bite your tongue. But as a mischievous kid himself, he wondered why you hid it. You preferred to orchestrate the show, to make a spectacle for your personal entertainment, and with a smile too soft to be considered guilty, you were a convincing actress. 
The other campers in 11 told him you’d been unclaimed for half a year now, keeping to yourself and making a safe haven within the busy cabin. You were a klutz to say the least, bringing chaos to Camp Half-Blood with a cool disposition, and you hardly seemed interested the one time Luke tried to say hi as he took the bunk next to yours. 
So why the hell wouldn’t you lay off of him?
At first it was small, shoulder bumps and raised eyebrows whenever he piped up in a conversation. That, he could deal with. Luke’s a tough guy, having gone through more than a typical 14-year old would. 
But then it just got annoying.
Glitter in his shampoo, his laundry load dyed purple, and shoelaces knotted together to make him stumble— things meant to be more of an inconvenience rather than an actual problem. Luke wasn’t sure what to make of it, or what to tell you. No one wants to be the new kid creating trouble, but you didn’t seem to have a problem with that.
Maybe you were a Hermes kid like him, but of that, Luke wasn’t so easily convinced—months of living in 11 would mean you’d learn all of the tricks of the trade, so it couldn’t automatically mean that you were related (a part of him also hoped you weren’t be half-siblings, or else the fact he couldn’t stop thinking of you would be slightly awkward). Perhaps a child of Apollo? When you weren’t being difficult, he’s seen you sprinkled in sunlight, usually humming a tune under your breath. Yesterday it was a song from the Sound of Music, and though he only remembers bits of a memory from a movie night with his mom years ago, he put his combat gear on slower just to hear you finish the song. 
Whatever you were, it was bound to be troublesome.
At this point in life, Luke hasn’t had many comforts while on the run. To him there’s no such thing as action without reason, without meaning.  Five years of running and not looking back makes this son of Hermes realize that he hasn’t had a chance to take a breath until he got here. It’s hard to let down your guard when you’re always supposed to be keeping watch.
He wriggles under his covers trying to relax himself before bed, purple socks sticking out of the scrappy hand-me-down blanket, and he hears a small giggle from the bed next to his. Luke shifts his weight onto his side, eyes darting to your direction in the quiet of the dark cabin.
“Nice socks.”
He blinks. Were you talking to him? His toes wiggle playfully, prompting more of your melodious laughter as he chews at his lip before he responds.
“Guess I’m getting used to them.”
“You’re getting used to a lot of things around here. That’s good,” you whisper, and thinks he can see you concocting something sinister in that brain of yours—he’s on the edge of the mattress hanging onto your every word as he realizes this is the most you’ve spoken to him.
“You did this. Why?” he says, more of a statement than a question. Why would you go out of your way for someone like him?
“Are you mad about it? Luke, right?” you mutter, a calm expression on your face shrouded in moonlight, and for a second he wonders if you actually don’t know his name until he notices the upwards quirk of your lip. 
Luke catches himself then, and the realization hits him like a blow to the chest— he’s not angry at all. If anything, he hasn’t had the time to feel anything negative with the antics you’ve been pulling. You’ve proven to be quite the distraction to his circumstances, and he can’t remember the last time he’s thought about Thalia or his mom since he got here. The melancholy falls on his countenance like a better-fitting blanket than the one he has on, and your words pull him from his thoughts before they can suffocate him again.
“Sorry about your sister. I lost someone right before I got here too. My mom.” 
This, he can tell, is not acting. Your eyes flicker to a polaroid strapped in the space underneath the top bunk above your head, two blurry figures huddled together in a memory.
“I’m sorry.” He’s not sure what to say. In the silence that follows, he swallows audibly. Everyone’s been worried about Annabeth, including himself that he hadn’t even thought of his own emotions being on display for everyone to see. Luke never thought you of all people would notice.
You shrug, “S’not your fault. I know when people are acting though. If you know I’m the one who’s been starting shit, why haven’t you told anyone?”
Luke almost laughs at that, a rough exhale leaving his lungs as he watches your hands clutch your quilt.
“It’s pretty entertaining, I guess. You’re annoying, but I don’t mind it. Kept my mind off of things.”
He watches you smile in the shadows now, and it shines—all lips, teeth, and sheer mirth that makes his chest feel a little lighter. A real smile from you, one that doesn’t hide your true intentions.
“I’m glad. Mine too.” 
The next thing you do confuses him further, but from what he’s gathered you’re always full of surprises. You chuck your quilt across the space between your bunks, and the end of it smacks him in the face as he grunts.
“Here. Keep it,” you chuckle a bit loudly, the both of you hearing a Shhhhh… from somewhere in the dark cabin.
“What… Why? Are we friends now?” Luke mumbles jokingly, inhaling the soft scent of berries and fresh linen. His purple laundry load smelled like this too.
“No.”
“Then why are you giving me your stuff?” he says, but still curls up underneath the handmade quilt stitched from memories of a past life, of motherly love and gentle hands. He doesn’t have anything like this, so he settles into this feeling of comfort instead, even if it wasn’t his memory to hold. You go quiet at the sight of him, eyes fluttering and chin tucked into the pink and purple fabric, and he looks as soft as a normal 14 year old boy should.
“It’s getting boring in here. Gonna have to change it up soon, I think,” you mumble, turning away and shutting your eyes before he can say anything else.
The next day, you get caught putting a month’s supply of bubble bath into the lake, but Luke’s convinced you did it on purpose. All of camp is standing on the shore, watching you wave at them from a river tube as Chiron and Mr. D yell at you in exasperation—finally revealing yourself as the troublemaker they’ve been searching for.
“Get on the beach this instant, young lady! You have no idea how much trouble you’ve put us through!” Mr. D’s voice echoes across the lake, his immortal form almost filtering through his frustration before you laugh in his face, unthreatened by the Olympian.
“Good thing I get it from you. Hello, dad!”
Jaws drop as everyone turns to look at Mr. D, the realization hitting his face as he points at you, his brain moving a mile a minute. Though you resemble your mother, your actions are all him. You revel in the grand reaction, looking up to see a purple thyrsus surrounded by grape leaves float over your head.
“Nice outfit, kid. I don’t think purple is your color. She do that to you too?” Mr. D notes Luke’s wine colored cargos and socks clashing against the harsh orange of his shirt as he pushes past him, scratching his head at the idea of another kid. Poor guy said two was the limit in a lifetime and he gets a grinning teenage girl who dares him to do something about it. He hasn’t raised a lot of girls….
“I don’t know. I guess trouble always seems to find me,” Luke laughs lightly, watching kids of all ages jump into the bubbly lake water happily. The glowing ember of his eyes are relaxed for the first time in a while— an inviting flame catching your own as you stare at him from across the sudsy water. Trouble, he thinks, a smile settling onto his face—how fitting.
He’s spent a lot of time running. But perhaps this time, he’s finding reasons to want to stay.
"After all, we are nothing more or less than what we choose to reveal." - Sylvia Plath
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luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?): @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri @number-onekidqueen @nininehaaa @bradynoonswife @stevenknightmarc @hoodedhavok @happy-mushrooms @homebyeleven @anotherblackreader @too-deviant @liviessun @lilacspider @theadventuresofanartist @sucker4seresin @simpforsunwoo @zanzie @starrystormwritings
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turtle-taetell · 1 month ago
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goodbye Mersmp
Super long message below!! (Funny story!)
and a message to the CCs at the end! <3
This is a piece that means so much to me. 21 months ago the designs for Theo and Faye got released. That day, i drew them! On paper with the supplies I had laying around, in a sketchbook smaller than my hand. At this point I was proud of my art but still very nervous about it. I had no idea how to draw them. I struggled a lot.
The second time I drew it, a year had passed. I felt I had been able to grow a lot as an artist and was excited to show how much I improved, so I redrew it! I loved how the lineart turned out and was so so excited to see the finished piece! But guess what? I hated it. I colored it in and still hate it to the point that I don’t even have the final version saved to my phone. It makes me feel ashamed.
But now, Mersmp has come to a close and the characters I have grown to care about so deeply have gotten their happy ending. So I wanted to give this piece that as well.
And finally, I think I can finally say I did.
I started drawing this final piece as soon as I was able to screenshot their epilogue designs. I was determined to make it right. So I sat down and drew, and drew, and drew, only taking an hour break to have dinner with a friend (don’t be like me). Finally, at 3am, eleven hours later, I was satisfied.
In this final piece are things that show just how tired I was. There are countless freckles on both characters, even under their scales! That’s a lot of dots. But wait… not the smallest. If you zoom in close enough they have pores! Much smaller than their freckles. That’s really a lot of dots! My freckle brush must have really come in clutch, right? WRONG! I dont have a freckle brush! All of this was done with one single smooth brush and I made Every. Single. Dot. Individually. That must have been pretty hard on my stylus, right? ONCE AGAIN WRONG! I don’t have a stylus! All of this was done on Ibis Paint x, a free art program, on an old janky ipad I got for free because it was so broken, all drawn with my finger. Even if I got a stylus, my ipad is too old to connect to any of them, including apple pencils.
The moral of this story is to never give up and not to let your resources limit your creativity. It doesn’t matter what medium you use, just do something to learn and keep pushing to improve. You will get there. Despite everything, you can do it.
And to the Mermp crew: Thank you for everything you have done. Through the story you have told and the community you have built, you have helped myself and others to grow in many ways. I myself learned a lot from Theo, learning that I do in fact go nonverbal at times and that does not mean there is anything wrong, and that I can feel conflicted and unsure about gender and expression. I learned I don’t need to be fixed. Just like I have now learned to look at the first redraw. I may not like it, but it is an expression of who I was at the time. Similar to Cella and Bite. Those characters may not like what they did in the past, but they are able to look back and recognize that it made them who they are today. If I always was proud of my first redraw, I may have never pressed myself to make this third one as beautiful. Thank you for the stories and lessons you have shared with us and allowing us to grow along side you and your characters.
And maybe, one day, a year or so from now, I can return to this and redraw it again, seeing what other things I enjoy in the future and how they may shape me to change.
With love, Turtle.
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katz-chow · 1 year ago
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nsfw headcanons with the 141 + graves
warnings: nsfw 18+, gn!reader (amab & afab versions), past sexual trauma in ghost's part, bondage, edging, denial, teasing, dom & sub dynamics,
a/n: i really thought about this mostly because i don't like it when the fandom has like these takes that are i guess...expected from these men when they're literal soldiers...some are just takes that i deem unrealistic so here i'm trying to humanize them. hope y'all enjoy!
john price
6 in hard, cut, trimmed but is not really maintained as well as his beard, around med thick, a bit darker than his skin tone, curves up pretty straight i feel he's the type to like it really slow and gentle with you. like he takes his time, cigar in his mouth, and just his hand on you constantly. he loves to just relax after an action packed day, so having this as his peace of mind is something he'll really appreciate. he has the oldest, cheesiest playlist that he'll sometimes puts on whenever there'll be a day where he has a whole date planned. like this mf really thinks "rock your body" by justin timberlake something he can get down too. you make fun of him but he feels so good so it's ok. surprisingly has really good stamina for a 37 y/o dude. is very vanilla but he loves body worshipping. loves you like a divine being and to him you really are. he'll rather take you on the kitchen counter whenever you two are too impatient, maybe even on the bathroom vanity when you looks so cute after brushing your teeth that he just can't help it before he goes to work. would rather be on top of you, not really a dom & sub dynamic, just him taking over to make sure you're taken care of. a real good ol' fashion lover boy. after a long day at work and he just wants to relax, he'll just either ask you to blow him while he manspreads on the couch or he'll make you ride him on your bed. this man talks you through, never degrades you unless you ask for it. he'll prefers to baby you like the pillow princess you are...but he also expects the same when he's lazy he also loves it when you tug his hair when he goes down on you, grinding against his face or whatever. won't whine or whimper, but will pant like a dog in heat (he is) tits/chest kind of guy, loves to have his hands on your chest and squeeze them, so squishy! aftercare with him is like heaven because as soon as you two are finished, he immediately cleans you up and draws a bath for you both, or just you, to enjoy. good ol' fashion lover boy
simon "ghost" riley
6.5 in, uncut, doesn't really shave or trim, pink, warm undertones, i'd say pretty girthy, curves left so, so gentle with you. just like really soft with you, always making sure you're okay and that you're comfy the type to lay you down and just slowly press in, making sure your face is full of pleasure and not pain. because of his past experience, getting him to have sex in the first place took a long time, actually it was like year. so now that he's comfortable with you, he makes sure, for sure, that you're comfortable with him. consent is sexy. likes positions where he can sees your face, just to check up (and because he thinks you looks so angelic when you o) i feel like he wouldn't listen to any music while going at it, he doesn't want to be distracted from you. you love seeing his face too so its okay. incredibly hesitant and will not push your boundaries, also hard for him if you do end up doing something you haven't really talked about, even if it was accidental. his fav positions are anything that allows him to see your face and is easy for you to speak, that means no doggy, no pressing your face into the pillows etc etc. is not into bondage or tying you up, hates the fact that it feels like he's interrogating you and he hates the feeling of himself being tied up. always make sure you know what the safe word is, even if he's never going to push your boundaries or even go near it. once he finds a safe zone, he stays there unless you ask and he considers it (the safe word is pineapple) very vanilla and i feel like he wouldn't sub until there is a detailed talk beforehand and really, really trusts you. even then he still makes sure that you're in his view and you both know the safe word. once he does subs and lets you take full control, he's pretty vocal with you, talking to you, groaning and moaning, but he's still pretty quiet actually first time you introduced aftercare to him, he cried. he didn't know how loved he could feel while in the topic of sex, thought it was all hot and rough and not this soft. his favorite thing to do with you is to just wipe you both clean with a baby wipe from a packet you two keep in the nightstand. then he'll put on some clothes for you and him and just cuddle and kiss. he likes when you get him food afterwards when he subs someone please hug this man
kyle "gaz" garrick
7 in, cut, def trimmed, sometimes he'll even shave, darker than his skin tone, med thickness, doesn't curve but kinda rises straight up and hits his stomach, very cute he's 10000% down to do it any time whenever you two are at home. such a good balance between degradation and praise, only if you're okay with it. have you heard this man? he's a giggler, he'll giggle and tickle you and make funny jokes. one time, one of you farted (you two are still denying who it was to this day) and he couldn't stop laughing and mimicking the little toot sound i have a big feeling that he's into choking, but only you choking him. otherwise, he likes having his hand on your throat but not actually squeezing, just to keep you in place and for you to claw at speaking of your claws, he likes when you push him away and scratch at his forearms whenever he's overstimulating you. he just thinks it's so cute. definitely has a few playlists he shuffles through depending on the mood, one for a serious, hot and dirty mood and another for when you two are just chilling and being silly goofy, no kinky stuff. also into handcuffs, especially the fluffy ones. he thinks they just feel so soft and nice, a perfect balance between vanilla and kinky stuff. also because he feels like hes being pampered when he wears them attached to the headboard. lets out such cute and pretty moans no matter if he's domming or subbing. when he is subbing though, he lets out these really nice, low whines and pouts followed by a little giggle if it was silly your safeword is definitely something really funny and an inside joke that instantly ruins the mood (it's toots) he will actually ruin you if he's upset; def the type to have angry sex with you if two end up being really upset with each other. frustration sex? yes definitely. loves when you fuck him really rough, deny him, edge him, make him blabbering. he'll thank you afterwards too. if he's domming, he'll make sure you shower first and foremost, then orders take out and watch some stupid romcom. he loves romcoms (10 things i hate about you, will sing along with heath ledger) if he's subbing, depending on the intensity, he'll either just roll over after you wipe him down and immediately sleep as you pet his hair or he'll cling onto you and you two play minecraft together with him between your legs. 10/10 he's very adaptable
johnny "soap" mactavish
5.6 in, uncut, trimmed and maintained constantly, pretty pink but not much different from his skin tone, vvy girthy, leans a bit left but pretty straight this man is so damn funny. listen this mf has fell, cut himself, slipped, had a cramp, and hit his head too many times. he's so fucking clumsy but he's also so curious! but also...why does he want to have sex upside?!?! ughhhh!!! definitely a switch and definitely a power bottom...for a good 5 minutes. yes he will bite you and act like a brat whenever you dom him and mess with him, but as soon as you tie him up and edge him once, he's a goner definitely makes fun of you to see your flushed face, but also makes fun of himself. he uses his cock like a puppet and it has its own personality and voice. you laugh so hard and honestly that's better than hearing your moans. he loves your laugh makes his cock salute you before you two go down, it's so fucking funny. his "little buddy" jumping up when he calls attention and in parade rest. god it makes you laugh every time. his favorite position when he's subbing is cowgirl and reverse cowgirl. he's such an ass man, loves him some ass, will bite you like its actual cake. reverse cowgirl is reserved for when you're feeling mean though, because sometimes you just pull off of him to jerk him off and sit on his stomach. he has a nice view of your ass but can't see what you're about to do to him :( a big tease when he's domming, will have the most randomest patterns ever just to get you to whine and beg for him to go at certain pace. give him a few pouts and glossy tears and he'll do whatever you want, he's a big softie behind all the tease and bratiness. also a fan of doggy if you two are doing it quickly, he loves bending you over a surface and just going ham at it. good position for him to reach and jerk you off at the same time too. immediately cuddles as aftercare and not cleaning up right away, when he's subbing though, you def clean him up while he clings to you because he's so touchy feely but you want him to feel clean too, esp when he leaks so much (so much). when he's domming though, you two would just lay in bed (maybe even go for another round if you feel like it). gives you kisses and asks what you like and didn't like, a full debrief. plays mario kart afterwards with you and you let him win because you're tired. such a silly man
phillip graves
5.6 in, cut, not really trimmed or maintained, a pretty pink almost red tip, med girth, he curves UP like UP this man is a big tease, and super egotistical. he'll make you beg, whine, pout, and grind against him before he will even touch you. he likes cockwarning a lot while he's on a business call or doing paperwork. he's patient. makes you cum first, doesn't matter if he's domming or subbing, he wants you to use him like a toy for your own pleasure until you're satisfied enough that he'll even think about cumming. when he's domming, he loves to call you the nastiest things (if you allow him), absolutely ruins you and coats you with his cum. he's a southern gentlemen though and will make your mind go numb with pleasure, def a pleasure dom now that i'm using my noggin his fav positions are cowgirl, missionary, and doggy. lotus mostly so he can wrap his arms around you. makes you wear his cowboy hat when you ride him. and will use the hat rule in public to get you to suck him off in the car LOLOL i feel like he's big into gags, not really on you, but def on him. wants to be drooling and leaking all over himself while he whines and begs you to touch him, he's cute. likes being manhandled. grabbing his jaw, digging your nails into his back, biting him, even if he's on top, he'll enjoy it. he likes the scratch marks you give him and wears them like a trophy for his shadows to see. very vocal with you and loves to be a pillow princess when he bottoms. likes to be tied up with a vibe on his cock and edged and overstimulated will whimper and whine and moan and pout, like a little puppy. would probably grind up against your leg when he feels extra needy. aftercare with him is kinda shitty whenever he doms ngl. he'll make you something to eat and probably take you shopping afterwards. not a big cuddler but would hold you if you curl up into him. if he was subbing, he would probably take a nap after you pester him to take a shower. he'll just nap and finally wake up when he smells food that you get him for being so good lol saved by the grace of southerner charm
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kaymarie-bell · 6 months ago
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Diasomnia Spoilers, Chapter 8 (JP)
part 1
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After Idia finishes his explanation of the plan, he makes our Magic Stones able to switch our clothes (like a character customization screen / magical girls lmfao) and we use Silver’s UM to start moving around. The first dream we see is Epel’s
Epel's dream:
In his dream, Epel has a buff body but the same face (also his steps sound like a giant walking lmfao.)
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We go to talk to him, but he picks a fight with Sebek. In Epel’s dream he’s taller than both Sebek and Jack (😭). We have to convince him that this dream isn’t really what he wants in order to wake him up. He kinda loses it once we mention Vil.
We get blot clones of Vil and Rook that are trying to convince him to stay inside the dream, telling him how much Leona praises him as the best rookie in the magift team and how he embodies the strength and beauty of Pomefiore.
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Grim snaps and reminds him of his wish to defeat Neige as the “poisoned apple” after the VDC.
Epel finally wakes up and accepts his true appearance. We fight against the fake Vil and Rook. Epel uses his UM to win. After that, Idia (in tablet form) explains the situation him.
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Idia gives him the invitation he prepared, and we leave a fake copy of Epel’s body in the dream (the buff one 😭) to keep Malleus from finding out too soon.
We then move on to Rook’s dream:
Just as the new SSR showed: we are in a dream where Rook is still a Savanaclaw student. He is not a first year. He recognizes Epel and wonders if Leona asked to see him because of magift.
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We try the “Vil would be mad if he saw you looking like that” strategy on Rook, however he doesn’t understand why it would concern him since Vil is an RSA student (‼️)
Vil is also Neige’s best friend (‼️‼️‼️)
Rook begins his fanboy rant about Vil and Neige’s “friendship.” He always imagined them as besties, and he keeps talking about their interviews and how they behave with each other. Sebek snaps at him and gets him to shut up for a bit, Rook is apologetic for getting too excited since he doesn’t have anyone to talk about this topic in Savanaclaw (😭)
Ortho wants us to go into Rook’s room to get more information about this version of him to wake him up. Rook tries to stop us but we manage to get inside.
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His room is decorated floor to ceiling with Neige’s merch on the left and Vil’s on the right (😭😭😭😭)
Sebek voice: what kind of rituals are you performing here?
Rook has been keeping his room a secret for all of his three years at NRC. He says he can’t let us go now…without looking at his oshis’ DVD collection first (😭😭😭😭😭😭😭)
5 hours later. Everyone is tired, and Silver even fell asleep for the first time since we got stuck in these dreams.
Epel tries to make him remember the VDC, but in this Rook’s memory Neige sang Minna de Yahoo! alongside Vil. He tells us goodnight and we leave his room.
The group starts to wonder if this dream means that Rook would’ve preferred to not be friends with Vil, but Epel is against that idea. He thinks that Rook is still thinking about Vil’s overblot, and maybe he believes that if Vil and Neige weren’t rivals then Vil wouldn’t have gone through all that.
Our plan to make Rook wake up involves going to the Coliseum / VDC stage and sing Absolutely Beautiful (new rhythmic!)
We get a flashback of how we rehearsed the song. Epel guided us and assigned our places. Epel -> Vil / Ortho -> Jamil / Sebek -> Epel / Silver and Grim -> Adeuce combo / Yuu -> Kalim / Idia -> Audience and judge.
Idia is happy to take this role, since he is very strict about idol performances (😭) he also offered to get everything ready
Epel: ✨Really? Thank you, Idia-san! ✨
Idia: Ugh! It’s too dazzling! For a moment I thought I’d been reincarnated into an idol training game-
Idia: Pomefiore is frightening….
Idia: I mean, doesn’t this kinda make me a manager or a boys' idol group P?
Idia: “Idia Manager”….”Shroud P”…..Hah! It doesn’t sound too bad~
note: in the type of idol games Idia is talking about, the P stands for “Producer” (time to Ensemble our Stars)
Rook begins to wake up, but blot clones of Vil and Neige appear. They begin to sing Minna de Yahoo! and Rook gets distracted again. Epel starts to scream at him
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Epel: Look closely! The real Vil-san looks more wicked, and his eyebrows are so angled! His eyes are so sharp that his stare will make your heart skip a beat!
Epel: Your Roi de Poison! Our Queen! He is far more Poisonous and Beautiful [than the fake]!
Rook: Poisonous…Beautiful…?
Epel: Don’t you dare give out the words Vil-san wanted the most that day to those fakes! You’re a worse traitor now than when you voted for the Royal Sword Academy! (ouch)
Epel: Come on, wake up! ROOK HUNTEEEER!
Rook: One vote for RSA…traitor…ugh!
Rook: Ugh!….that’s right…in this world…the most beautiful thing in this world is…ARGH!
Rook wakes up, but the fakes are still trying to distract him. ( shoutout to Vil’s VA, this Vil speaks in a more…princely? manner. Definitely not Our Vil)
Rook knows this is a dream, but he still feels guilty about pointing his arrow at them
(Groovy spoiler for Rook's new SSR)
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Fake Vil voice: Neige get behind me!
✨MAGICAL GIRL TRANSFORMATION✨
We defeat the blot clones, and Rook and Epel have their reunion
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Meanwhile Sebek and Idia:
Sebek: I can’t believe it…you’re not only making me fight, but also dance.
Idia: Hehe. I managed to get a good recording of the magnificent Sebek-shi waving his arms and feet in such a clumsy manner.
Sebek: You-! Turn that off! If you show this to anyone, I will not let you get away with it!
Rook notices Idia and is moved by him “guiding the underclassmen as a Dorm Leader” (😭)
Idia is like “eh? Not really…I’m more of a P or a manager…”
Rook asks him to explain what happened at Lilia’s farewell party. Idia shows him the video too. Rook joins our party, receives the invitation, and leaves a clone behind. We move onto the next dream.
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goblinontour · 2 months ago
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About You
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and i’ll miss you on a train
epilogue | series masterlist
warnings: prof!al, age gap (not specified), fluff, feelings, crying, smut, oral (f receiving), piv
word count: 10.8k
It hadn’t been the elaborate affair either of you had envisioned. In the idealised version of events you had both crafted in your heads, your wedding was something out of a fairytale. Perfectly planned, held at the peak of summer, everything falling seamlessly into place. But that’s not quite how it turned out. It wasn’t the kind of wedding either of you had imagined. Not the summer ceremony you’d both dreamed up in fleeting daydreams over time. In those daydreams, maybe you had a sprawling venue, with candles everywhere and all that stuff. But reality had other plans, and somehow, that made it even better.
It was spontaneous. Almost accidental. It came together faster than either of you expected, catching you both by surprise. You’d just finished your final year at university. Your last year, your last day. And it had been important to him that it happened after that. He was adamant about it, insisted on waiting. That had been obligatory, in his mind, a non-negotiable boundary. He’d made it clear from the start: he wouldn’t cross that line while you were still his student.
You hadn’t been opposed to the idea, respecting his need for that space, even if the line between your professor-student relationship and whatever had blossomed between you had long since blurred. 
As soon as your final exams were over and your degree was in hand, Alex had gently broached the topic, that nervous, bashful look you’d come to love showing up on his face as he fumbled with the words. He hadn’t wanted to rush you, but the need to make things official had crept in on him in a way he couldn’t suppress any longer. And you weren’t about to argue with him.
“I think…I think we should do it. Soon. Don’t you?”
There was hesitation in his voice that didn’t quite match the determination in his eyes. Mr. Turner, as you’d once used to call him, always so confident in his lectures, so sure of himself when he was your professor, couldn’t be more different when he was with you. Always nervous, always shy. Like he was asking you something much bigger than just a wedding. 
And when you’d agreed, he almost couldn’t believe it. His eyes widened, and he laughed softly, more out of surprise than anything else, as if he hadn’t fully expected you to say yes so easily. But you had, because you were ready. You’d been ready long before he’d allowed himself to be.
Of course, things moved quickly from there. You didn’t have the months of planning, the extravagant arrangements. Instead, it ended up being a small, intimate gathering at his parents’ place, tucked away in the garden he’d spent his childhood running around in. It was unpretentious, cozy, a little rough around the edges, but it suited him, and you, perfectly.
Their garden was smaller than you’d remembered, but somehow, standing there with Alex, surrounded by his family and yours, it felt just right. You could smell the freshly cut grass, hear the soft rustle of leaves in the summer breeze, and see the faint glow of the setting sun casting golden light over everything. 
It wasn’t the grand event either of you had pictured, but you wouldn’t have traded it for anything in the world.
He hadn’t even had time to get his hair cut. You’d laughed about that the night before, when he ran a hand through the tousled mess of dark curls, looking mildly frustrated at how long it had gotten. “I was supposed to get it sorted, wasn’t I?” he muttered, shaking his head at the memory of all the appointments he’d pushed back because of work or your hurried plans.
But even with his hair falling slightly over his eyes, unruly and windswept from the breeze that had picked up, he looked perfect. Handsome, in a way that didn’t feel rehearsed or overdone. It was just him, standing there with his tie slightly askew, in the shirt he’d ironed himself but somehow still managed to wrinkle. His sunglasses rested awkwardly on the bridge of his nose, and you knew, without needing to ask, that he’d put them on to hide the tears that had welled up in his eyes earlier.
They hadn’t been sad tears. No, not this time. They were happy ones, the kind he hadn’t been able to stop from slipping out in the middle of the ceremony. He thought he’d been discreet, ducking his head, sliding the glasses over his eyes as if that would somehow shield him from your knowing gaze. But you knew. You always knew.
Now, standing off to the side of the gathering as the sun set, you found a quiet moment away from everyone. The fading light softened everything around you, casting golden hues on the grass, on the flowers his mother had carefully arranged. You reached out and tugged gently at the sleeve of his shirt, drawing him closer. 
He turned toward you slowly, blinking behind the dark lenses of his sunglasses. You smiled up at him, teasing gently. “You do know the sun’s gone down, right? Or are you planning to wear those all night?”
A sheepish smile tugged at the corners of his lips, and he reached up to take the glasses off, revealing eyes that were red-rimmed, still glistening with the remnants of his earlier tears. “Ah, right, caught me.” he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper, like he was embarrassed you’d caught him. “I just…you know…”
You nodded, stepping closer until your hand brushed his, fingers intertwining naturally. “It’s okay.” you said softly, squeezing his hand. “I saw.”
He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he looked down, suddenly shy, like he didn’t quite know what to do with himself. His thumb traced the outline of your knuckles as he stared at them, avoiding your eyes for a moment. “I’m sorry, I just-” He trailed off, shaking his head, his hair falling messily over his forehead again. He laughed awkwardly, trying to downplay it, but you could see right through him. “I didn’t mean to get all…you know…emotional.”
You smiled softly and brought your free hand up to cup his cheek, forcing him to meet your gaze. His skin was warm beneath your touch, and you could feel the slight tremble in him, the nervous energy that always seemed to bubble up. “I think it’s sweet.” you said, brushing your thumb gently across his cheekbone. “And very on brand for you.”
He laughed again, quieter this time, but the tension in his shoulders eased a little as he leaned into your touch. He wrapped his arms around you, his breath warm against your ear. “You know,” he murmured, voice low and rough, “we’ll have another wedding one day. A proper one. I promise you that.” His lips brushed your temple, and when you turned to meet his gaze, his eyes were full of sincerity. “I-” he started after a beat of silence, his voice still shaky, “I’d marry you a hundred times- no, a thousand more…I really would marry you a thousand times. Over and over again, if you’d let me.”
Your heart swelled at the way his voice wavered, the raw emotion in every word. He wasn’t just saying it to be romantic. He meant it. There was a desperation in his voice, like he still couldn’t believe this was real, that you were his.
“Alex…” you whispered, brushing a lock of his unruly hair away from his eyes.
“I mean it.” he interrupted, his hand tightening around yours. “I’d do this every day if I could. Because I still can’t believe I get to…to have this. To have you.” His voice broke slightly, and he cleared his throat, awkwardly trying to pull himself together, but you could see how deeply he felt it. “You don’t know how long I waited for this. How many times I thought about it. And now that it’s real…” He shook his head, his eyes filling with tears again. “I’m so lucky.”
You smiled at him, warmth spreading through your chest. And you believed him. You knew he meant every word. He wasn’t the kind of man to take promises lightly, and he certainly wouldn’t say something he didn’t plan to follow through on. The thought of marrying you over and over, of making the commitment again and again, clearly wasn’t just a cheesy notion to him. It was something he craved. The idea of turning this love, this promise of forever, into something real every single day seemed to fuel him.
And even now, standing there in his parents’ garden, with the smell of roses and the sound of laughter in the air, he still couldn’t quite believe it was real. That you were his. That he was yours. He’d spent so long now navigating the line between what he was allowed to feel and what he actually did feel for you. Trying to convince himself that he was allowed to love you, trying to make it go away. But it hadn’t. It had only grown, deepened, until it became impossible to ignore. And now here you were. His wife.
You could feel tears of your own welling up now, his words hitting you harder than you’d expected. This wasn’t just a wedding. It was a culmination of everything you’d both been through, all the waiting, the lines he refused to cross until the time was right, the stolen glances, the quiet moments when neither of you could say what you wanted to.
You reached up on your tiptoes and kissed him gently, softly, pouring every unspoken word into it. He responded immediately, his hands cradling your face as if he was afraid to let you go. When you finally pulled away, he pressed his forehead to yours, eyes closed, his breath mingling with yours.
“I love you.” you whispered, your voice trembling.
He smiled, eyes still shut, and whispered back, “I love you more than I ever thought I could.”
You knew that this was all you’d ever need. Just him. Just Alex. Forever.
His fingers laced through yours, his grip warm. “I still can’t believe it.” he whispered, echoing your own thoughts as if he could read them. “I get to spend my whole life with you.”
The party had wound down slowly, as family and friends trickled away in the soft glow of twilight, leaving the two of you standing in the quiet aftermath. The garden, once filled with laughter and conversation, now lay in peaceful silence, only the occasional chirp of crickets filling the space where guests had been. The smell of the early summer blooms lingered in the air, mingling with the faint scent of the candles that were still flickering on the tables. It was a perfect night. 
You’d both tried to help clean up at first, but his mother had shooed you away, insisting that it was your night and you shouldn’t worry about such things. Still, Alex had lingered, his hands fidgeting with the leftover napkins, folding and refolding them while you watched him from the corner of your eye, knowing he was struggling to settle into the quiet. He always had a hard time when things ended, like he wasn’t quite ready to let go of the moment. It was the same way he lingered at the end of lectures, the way his voice softened but never quite let go of the topic, as though there was always something left unsaid.
But tonight was different. There was an undercurrent of restlessness in him, something you couldn’t quite place until he finally turned to you, holding out the car keys with a soft but determined smile. “I’ll drive.” he said, his voice gentle but with an edge of quiet insistence.
You hesitated, looking at him for a moment, then at the car. Normally, he’d ask, a slight stammer in his voice when it came to things like this. But tonight, he wasn’t asking. His eyes had a certain gleam, a quiet confidence that was as intoxicating as it was surprising. 
“I want to.” he added softly, almost like a promise. “Let me take care of you tonight, yeah?”
There was something about the way he said it, the weight in his voice, that made you nod without hesitation. You didn’t need to ask where you were going. It didn’t matter. Not tonight. Not with him standing there, his hand already on the car door, waiting for you to join him. He didn’t need to ask for permission. He was your husband now. And that thought, your husband, made you smile as you slipped into the passenger seat beside him.
The keys jingled in his hand as he turned the ignition, and the car rumbled to life. You watched him for a moment, the way his hands moved, gripping the steering wheel loosely as if he was completely at peace. He shot you a quick, soft smile before pulling out of the driveway, and soon, the two of you were rolling down the narrow streets that wound through the small town. 
He didn’t say much at first, just drove. You were used to these stretches of quiet with him, the way he sometimes needed space to gather his thoughts, especially after something as big as tonight. You watched him out of the corner of your eye, the way his fingers tapped absently against the gearshift, his hair still slightly mussed from the day. 
But even now, with the unruly strands falling into his eyes, he looked effortlessly handsome. There was something about the casualness of it all, the way his shirt was slightly wrinkled, his tie hanging loose around his neck, that made him seem more real, more yours, in a way you’d never quite seen before. And there was a subtle freedom in him that you hadn’t quite seen before. He was driving aimlessly, or at least that’s what you thought. He hadn’t mentioned where you were going. For once, it felt like nothing else mattered. He’d put away any restraints he might’ve held onto before, any worries or concerns about what was proper. Because now…he was married. He was married to you. The simple reality of that settled deep into his bones. There wasn’t a single thing to worry about anymore. No rules to break, no lines to blur. You were his now, and he was yours.
And what could he possibly find to complain about? 
You’d assumed it would be a short drive, just to get away from the buzz of the party, but hours passed, and he kept going. The two of you moved through town after town, the road stretching out before you in endless waves of asphalt, lit by the car’s headlights and the faint glow of the moon. The car moved with a steady rhythm, and the sound of the tires on the pavement became a comforting hum, lulling you into a half-asleep state. Your head leaned lightly against the window, and your eyes fluttered closed, the warmth of the evening air drifting in through the cracked window.
It was then, as your mind began to drift, that you felt it. His hand. Warm and steady, resting on your thigh, his fingers curling gently against your skin. It wasn’t just a casual touch. It was deliberate, grounding. A quiet reassurance. You blinked awake, turning your head to look at him, and found his eyes already on you.
“Hey.” he said softly, a smile tugging at his lips. “Don’t fall asleep on me yet.”
You smiled back, stifling a yawn as you straightened up slightly, your hand reaching for his where his rested on your leg. “How long have we been driving?” you asked, glancing at the clock on the dashboard. You hadn’t been keeping track, but it felt like hours.
He shrugged, his thumb absently brushing against your leg, his eyes flicking back to the road. “A while.” he admitted, the smile still on his face. “But we’re almost there.”
You blinked, confused, as you looked out the window. “Almost where?”
Alex didn’t answer right away. He just kept his hand on your thigh, his thumb rubbing small, absent circles into your skin, a soft chuckle escaping his lips.
“I’ve got something to show you.” he said, almost shyly, but with that same underlying confidence that had been quietly building in him all night. His voice was low, gravelly, like he’d been holding back this secret for hours and now couldn’t contain it anymore.
The tires crunched softly on gravel, and you sat up straighter, looking around at the unfamiliar surroundings. Tall trees framed the narrow road, their branches swaying in the light breeze, and beyond them, a small house came into view. It wasn’t much. Just a modest cottage with ivy climbing up the sides and a garden that looked wild and untamed. But it was beautiful in its simplicity. The kind of place you’d only ever seen in photos or passing daydreams.
“Alex…” you began, glancing over at him with confusion. “Where are we?”
“Well…” He turned off the engine and shifted in his seat to face you, his smile turning a little bashful now. “I, uh…I got us this place for a bit.” he said, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand, as though he was suddenly nervous about your reaction. “For us to spend some time together. Away from everything.”
You stared at him for a moment, still trying to process what he was saying. “You…got us a house?”
His laugh was soft, the sound low and warm in the quiet car. “Not bought it, love. I’m not that mad yet.” He grinned, his cheeks flushing slightly as he shook his head. “Booked. Rented. For two weeks.”
You blinked, glancing from him to the house and back again. “Two weeks?”
He nodded, his gaze dropping to where your hands were still intertwined, his thumb tracing the lines of your fingers. “Yeah. I figured…you know, after everything, we could use some time. Just us.” He paused, and when he spoke again, his voice was quieter, like he was uncertain. “If you can stand being alone with me for that long.”
His words hung in the air between you, and for a moment, you could see the vulnerability in him. Despite everything, despite being married now, there was a part of him that still thought you’d turn away, that two weeks alone with him might somehow be too much.
You didn’t hesitate. Leaning in closer, you rested your hand on his arm, squeezing gently as you smiled. “Two weeks? Just you and me?”
He nodded, his eyes flicking up to meet yours, searching your face for any sign of doubt. When he found none, he let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. “Yeah. Just us.”
The affection swelling in your chest was overwhelming, and you couldn’t help but reach up, cupping his cheek and pulling him into a kiss. It was soft at first, but the intensity grew as you poured everything you felt into it. The gratitude, the love, the quiet joy of knowing this was your future now. 
When you pulled back, his eyes were wide, his cheeks flushed, and he let out a shaky laugh. “I take it you don’t mind, then?” 
You grinned, your thumb brushing over the stubble on his jaw. “Alex, I love it. I love you.”
He laughed, a sound full of relief. “Good.” he murmured, resting his forehead against yours. “I don’t plan on letting you go anytime soon.”
For a moment, the two of you just sat there in the soft darkness, your breathing in sync, your hands still entwined. The night stretched out before you, full of endless possibilities, and for the first time in a long while, you felt like time didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except him, and the way his hand still rested gently on your thigh.
Eventually, he pulled back, his fingers tracing the line of your jaw before he nodded toward the house. “Come on then.” he said, his voice lighter now, playful. “Let me show you what I’ve got planned for us.”
You smiled, nodding as you unbuckled your seatbelt and stepped out into the cool night air, your hand still firmly in his. 
Before you had a chance to move, you felt his arms wrap around you, his hands settling under your legs and back as he lifted you up into his arms with surprising ease. “Alex!” you laughed, your arms instinctively looping around his neck. “What are you doing?”
He chuckled, a low, happy sound that rumbled against your cheek as you pressed your face into his neck, still laughing. 
The gravel crunched softly beneath his shoes as he carried you up the short path, his arms wrapped securely around you. You held onto him, one arm hooked lazily around his neck, your body pressed close to his chest, his warmth enveloping you in a way that made everything else fade into the background. The world outside seemed to slow down, the quiet hum of crickets in the distance blending into the rhythm of his steady breathing, his chest rising and falling beneath you.
When you reached the door, Alex shifted slightly, balancing you as he pulled out the keys from his pocket. The familiar jingle of the metal made you smile. It was so him, the way he never quite rushed through anything, taking his time even now, holding you effortlessly as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He fumbled for a second, the keys slipping between his fingers, and you giggled softly against his neck.
“Easy there.” you teased, your breath warm against his skin as he finally managed to unlock the door.
He pushed it open with his foot, pausing just inside the threshold with a playful glint in his eye. You could feel the shift in his energy, the way his grip on you tightened just slightly as he grinned down at you. Before you could step out of his arms, thinking he was about to set you down, he pulled you up higher against him, his arms firm around your waist and legs, and stepped forward into the house.
“Alex!” you laughed, surprised by the sudden movement. Your arms tightened around his neck instinctively, holding on as you laughed into his shoulder. He was stronger than he looked, carrying you effortlessly across the entryway, his footsteps soft on the wooden floor. The house was quiet, the only sound the slight creak of the floorboards beneath his feet and the echo of your laughter in the empty space.
He chuckled too, a low, rumbling sound that vibrated through his chest and made you press your face closer to his neck. “You’re not too tired, are you?” he asked, his voice soft but teasing as he carried you farther into the house, his breath warm against your ear.
You lifted your head slightly, meeting his gaze with a smile that was half-teasing, half-exhausted from the day. “No.” you murmured, your hand brushing gently against his jaw. “Not too tired.”
His smile widened, and there was something in his eyes. An intensity, a quiet hunger, that made your heart skip a beat. “Perfect.” he whispered, his voice dropping lower, more intimate. His gaze never left yours, even as he walked farther into the house, carrying you as if you weighed nothing at all. “Because I wanna make love to my wife.”
The words, so simple yet so…ugh, sent a flutter of warmth through your chest, and you couldn’t help but smile as you rested your hand on the back of his neck, your fingers playing with the strands of his hair. His sincerity was overwhelming, the way he looked at you with such open affection, like he still couldn’t believe you were his.
“You’re so cheesy.” you teased, biting your lip to hide your grin as you pressed a soft kiss to his jaw.
His laugh was warm, his grip tightening around you slightly as he pulled you closer. “Yeah, well…” he muttered, his voice soft with amusement as he carried you past the small living room, into what you assumed was the bedroom. “I just wanna follow tradition, you know?”
You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound filling the quiet house as you leaned your head against his shoulder. “I think we’re past that.” you said, your voice full of affection as you pressed another kiss to the side of his neck, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your lips.
He sighed softly, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his mouth as he glanced down at you. “Maybe.” he admitted, his fingers brushing gently against your leg as he adjusted his grip on you. “But I don’t care. I wanna do it right.”
There was something so earnest about the way he said it, like he was determined to make this night perfect in every possible way. His desire to do everything “right” was so endearing, so quintessentially Alex, that it made your heart swell. But you couldn’t resist teasing him just a little more.
“You sound so old sometimes.” you murmured, your lips brushing against the shell of his ear as you spoke, your voice light with amusement.
He tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing playfully as he grinned at you, his expression shifting from sweet to something else in an instant. “Oh, I’m old now, huh?” His voice dropped lower, more teasing as he leaned in closer, his lips just brushing the edge of your jaw. “Too much of a prude for you?”
You laughed, shaking your head as you felt the warmth of his breath on your skin. “Maybe a little.” you teased, your hand sliding up to rest at the back of his neck, fingers curling into his hair.
His grin widened, the playful glint in his eye turning darker as he raised an eyebrow at you. “Okay then.” he murmured, his voice dropping even lower, sending a shiver down your spine. “How about this: I wanna fuck my wife all night long.”
The bluntness of his words took you by surprise, and you couldn’t help but burst into laughter again, the sound bubbling out of you before you could stop it. “Alex-” you started, your cheeks flushed with both embarrassment and amusement as he grinned at your reaction, clearly enjoying the effect his words had on you.
He didn’t let you finish. “How’s that sound?” he whispered, his lips grazing the sensitive skin just beneath your ear, his breath hot against your neck. 
Your fingers tightened around the fabric of his shirt as your breath hitched, the sudden shift in the mood sending heat coursing through you. You leaned back just enough to meet his gaze, your smile softening as you felt the familiar warmth of desire settling between you. “That sounds…” You paused, letting your fingers trace the line of his jaw, feeling the slight stubble beneath your fingertips. “Perfect.” you whispered, your voice low as your lips brushed against his.
His grip on you tightened as he carried you the last few steps toward the bed, his breath catching slightly as he looked at you. 
Gently, he set you down on the bed, his hands lingering on your waist for just a moment longer before he leaned down, his forehead resting against yours. His breath was warm against your skin, and for a moment, neither of you moved, the intensity of the moment sinking in. This was your life now. This was real.
“I love you.” he whispered, as his hand gently cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing softly against your skin.
“I love you too.” you whispered back, pulling him closer, feeling the warmth of his body against yours.
You lay there, still catching your breath from the laughter, watching him as he hovered over you. His hair fell into his eyes, and you couldn’t help but smile, your fingers brushing it back from his face. His eyes softened at your touch, and for a second, everything slowed down again. You could see how much he loved you, how much he wanted this to be perfect for you.
“So…” you began, your voice light and playful as you raised an eyebrow, a grin spreading across your lips. “You’re gonna last all night, yeah?”
Alex’s lips twitched into a smirk as he looked down at you, the teasing glint in your eyes clearly not lost on him. He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your cheek as he brushed his lips just below your ear. “Oh, is that a challenge?” he murmured, his voice low, his lips ghosting against your skin.
You chuckled softly, your fingers tracing along the back of his neck as you tilted your head slightly, giving him better access to your skin. “Maybe.” you whispered, feeling a shiver run through you as his lips grazed your jawline.
He smiled against your skin, a low hum escaping his throat as he began pressing slow kisses down the line of your jaw, then lower, to the curve of your neck. “I’ll try my best.” he murmured, his voice rough with heat as he nuzzled the sensitive spot just beneath your ear. 
The feel of his lips on your skin made your breath catch, your body instinctively arching toward him. His kisses were slow, lingering. He was taking in every second, every inch of you. He wasn’t in any rush. He wanted to take his time, to enjoy this. To enjoy you.
Your fingers tangled in his hair as he continued kissing his way down your neck, your eyes fluttering shut as the sensation of his lips, soft and warm, sent sparks through you. “You better.” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you felt him smile against your collarbone.
His lips moved lower still, grazing your shoulder now as his hands slid up your sides, his touch firm yet gentle. 
“Think I’m doing alright so far?” he asked, his lips brushing against your skin as he spoke.
You opened your eyes, meeting his gaze as you bit your lip, trying to suppress the smile threatening to spread across your face. “Not bad.” you teased, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “But I thought you said all night.”
He laughed softly as he pressed a kiss to your shoulder, his fingers trailing lightly down your arm. “I’m just getting started.” he whispered, his lips brushing against your skin once more before he moved back up, his gaze locking with yours. 
There was something almost intoxicating about the way he looked at you then, like he was memorising every detail of this moment, every detail of you. 
You leaned up slightly, your hand resting against his cheek as you smiled softly at him. “No pressure, professor.” you teased, your thumb brushing over his chin, feeling the little hairs growing in.
He chuckled again, his smile widening as he kissed the inside of your wrist, his lips lingering there for just a moment. “Professor, huh?” he murmured against your skin. “You haven’t called me that in a while.”
“Well…” you grinned, biting your lip as you traced your fingers over his chest. “Now that we’re married, maybe I can get away with it.”
His eyes darkened at that, his breath hitching slightly as his hand came up to cup your cheek. “You can get away with anything.” he whispered.
Then, without another word, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was soft and slow at first, but quickly deepened, filled with all the love and intensity that had been building between you for so long. His hand slid up your back, pulling you closer to him as the kiss grew more urgent. 
The rest of the world faded away, leaving just the two of you in this quiet, hidden place he had brought you to. The weight of the day, of everything that had come before this moment, slipped away, leaving nothing but the two of you, your hands tangled in his hair, his lips moving against yours, his heart beating in time with your own.
As Alex flipped you over and shuffled back on the bed, his heart pounded in his chest. He could feel every beat of it, a rapid, urgent rhythm that had been building all night, building for months if he was being honest with himself. The way you looked at him, the way your smile lit up your entire face. It made his breath catch. He wanted you so badly it was dizzying, but there was something else there too. Love, yes, but an almost desperate need to please you. To make this perfect.
When his back hit the headboard with a loud thud, a grunt escaped him. The sharp pain cut through the fog of desire for a second, but then your hand pressed against the bulge in his suit pants, and the sharp sting of the impact was forgotten. Replaced by pleasure, so intense it sent a shudder down his spine. He let out a groan, deep and guttural, his head falling back as his eyes fluttered shut. 
You had always known exactly what to do to him, how to unravel him. The smallest touch of your hand, the gentlest pressure from your palm, and it was like his entire body was on fire. He wasn’t in control anymore, and for once, he didn’t want to be. Not with you.
“Mhmm…” he murmured, the sound half a groan, half a plea. His voice was raspy as he looked up at you, eyes dark with lust and something deeper, something softer. He was drunk on the sight of you, hovering over him, flushed from his touch. “Sit on my face…please.”
He hadn’t meant for it to come out so needy, but he couldn’t help it. He wanted you close, closer than you already were, wanted to taste you, to feel your thighs trembling around his head. His hands gripped your hips, fingers pressing into the soft flesh there as he urged you higher up his body. His mind was a haze, every rational thought drowned out by the overwhelming need to make you feel good.
A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you leaned forward, teasing him with your words. “Your wish is my command.” you whispered, your breath warm against his skin before you kissed him softly. 
That kiss, it was a brief moment of tenderness in the midst of all the heat, and it made his chest tighten. You had this way of grounding him, even when he was lost in you. 
But that tender moment passed, replaced by something far more primal. As you climbed over him, his hands moved to the hem of your dress, fingers tugging impatiently at the lacy fabric. The dress was clinging to you, refusing to move, and his frustration grew with every failed attempt to push it higher. He could feel the heat of your skin beneath the fabric, the softness of your thighs under his palms, and it was driving him insane. 
“Take it off.” he muttered, his voice rough and filled with urgency. His fingers traced slow circles on your thighs as he waited, his gaze never leaving yours. “Please, just…take it off.”
When you finally pulled the dress over your head, discarding it on the floor, his breath caught in his throat. His eyes raked over your body, drinking in the sight of your bare skin illuminated by the soft glow of the room. His hands, which had been idle for only a moment, were suddenly everywhere. Gliding over your thighs, your hips, as if he couldn’t touch you enough.
“Wow…” he whispered, almost reverently, his hands moving up to your waist, tracing the curve of your body with gentle strokes. There was no hesitation in the way he touched you, no restraint, just the pure need to feel every inch of you. To memorise, again, the way your body felt in his hands.
Bare thighs, no stockings, nothing. The absence of the garter you’d worn earlier was not lost on him, and the memory flashed through his mind. How he had insisted on taking it off with his teeth during the party, much to the amusement of everyone around. It had been such a ridiculous, cheeky move, but he couldn’t resist. He never could when it came to you.
“I think I’m gonna have a heart attack.” he said, half-joking, though the sight of you, sitting above him, left his chest tight, heart hammering. 
“Shut up.” you replied, and he smiled at the sound of your voice. His world narrowed to just you. 
He groaned, fingers tightening on your hips. “Let me eat your pussy, I’ll shut up.”
It was desperate, the words spilling out of his mouth before he could stop them. He needed to taste you, to feel you lose yourself above him. His hands moved up again, pushing at the lace of your panties, toying with the fabric but not daring to move any further without your permission. He waited, eyes locked on yours, anticipation tightening in his chest.
“You’re gonna make me beg? I can beg.” he added, his voice dropping to a low rumble, the teasing edge in his words undeniable.
You bit your lip, grinning as you pulled at the front of your lace panties, stretching the material across his face. The delicate fabric pressed against his lips, trapping his nose. The sensation only made him more desperate, his breath coming out hot and shallow as he felt the lace press against his mouth. He huffed against it, the pressure from his exhale making the fabric flutter against your skin.
But it wasn’t enough. He was starving for you, the heat between you driving him to the brink. Without thinking, he caught the lace between his teeth, tugging at it gently, his breath quickening. He could feel you hovering just above him, the warmth of your core so close, and yet still out of reach.
“Hey!” you gasped when he tugged harder, the fabric straining in his grip. 
But he had reached his limit. With a growl of impatience, he gripped your hips and pulled you down, pressing your core against his waiting mouth. The lace was still between you, but that didn’t stop him. His lips parted immediately, tongue sliding out to lick a long stroke along your slit through the soaked fabric.
The taste of you, even filtered through the thin barrier of lace, sent a rush of heat straight through him. He groaned into you, the sound vibrating against your core, his fingers digging into your hips as he held you in place.
The sensation made you shudder, your thighs trembling slightly as you struggled to hold yourself up. His mouth worked against you with a desperate hunger, each flick of his tongue sending jolts of pleasure through your body. He could feel you reacting to him, your soft moans spurring him on as he licked and sucked through the fabric, his own body tightening.
But it wasn’t enough. He needed more. His hands slid up to your hips again, fingers hooking around the sides of your soaked panties. He tugged them down and you helped him get them off, discarding them somewhere on the bed. His breath hitched as he looked up at you, seeing you bare above him.
“Finally.” he muttered, more to himself than to you, his voice hoarse with need.
And then he was on you again, his mouth latching onto your core, tongue flicking against your clit with an intensity that made your whole body tense. The taste of you, the warmth of your skin, it overwhelmed his senses, every touch of his tongue sending pleasure through both of you.
Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as his mouth worked against you, slow at first, but quickly growing more frantic. He wanted to make you come undone, to feel you fall apart above him.
The sound of your voice, ragged and breathless as you whispered his name, sent a shiver of pure desire through him. He could feel you tightening around him, your thighs trembling, your body arching into his touch. And that was all the encouragement he needed. With one final, deliberate flick of his tongue, he felt you shatter above him.
As you sat back from his face, breathless and trembling, his hands stayed on your thighs, stroking them gently. His lips were swollen, glistening with you, and his cheeks flushed. His chest heaved as he stared up at you with a dazed, satisfied grin, like he could spend the rest of his life between your legs and never grow tired of it. But now, as your hands drifted lower, brushing over his hips and finding the button of his pants, he knew what was coming next.
His breathing hitched when your fingers popped open the button, moving lower to his zipper. “My turn?” he asked, his voice low, teasing, though the hunger in his eyes betrayed the casualness of his tone.
His grin faltered, his breathing uneven as he watched your hands move closer to his painfully hard cock, still trapped beneath the fabric of his underwear. He groaned softly, his hips lifting just slightly as your fingers brushed over the bulge, teasing him through the thin material. You didn’t answer with words, only a smirk, your hands still working to undo his pants, slowly pulling them down, but just as you were about to tug them fully off, he stopped you. His fingers wrapped around your wrist, and for a moment, you looked at him, confused. He fumbled with the pocket of his suit trousers, his brow furrowed in concentration.
“Wait.” he muttered. He reached down, his other hand fumbling with the waistband of his briefs, and you raised an eyebrow, watching him curiously.
“Wait for what?” you asked, your breath catching slightly as his hand slid into his pocket again.
A grin tugged at his lips as he pulled something out. He held it up, wiggling it in the air between you.
The garter. 
He was holding it up in front of your face like a prize, the delicate lace dangling from his fingers.
You couldn't help but giggle. “You kept it?”
“Of course I did.” he murmured, shuffling on the bed. 
His trousers were still clinging to his thighs as he manoeuvred awkwardly, trying to balance on his knees while lifting his hips. You couldn’t help but admire the way his muscles shifted under his skin, the soft light casting shadows over his body. His bulge was straining so hard against his underwear now that the fabric was nearly bursting, the outline of him pressed tight and clear through the material.
But Alex wasn’t focused on that. He had his own plans. He wiggled one leg free from his trousers and, with a playful gleam in his eye, slid the garter onto his calf, moving it slowly up his thigh. He shifted back on the bed, positioning himself in front of you, one leg propped up like he was showing it off. It was an absurd sight. This man, sitting on your shared honeymoon bed with a lacy garter clinging to his thigh. His eyes gleamed, that boyish charm mixing with the underlying heat in his gaze. His lips curved into a lopsided smirk as he propped himself up on his elbows, the muscle in his jaw tightening when you slowly leaned in closer.
You blinked, then laughed. “Again?”
Alex’s grin only widened. “You didn’t think I’d give it up that easily, did you?” He shuffled on the bed, kicking off his pants the rest of the way, his body shifting beneath you as he lifted one leg. 
He caught your gaze, eyebrow raised, waiting. “Well?” he said. “Take it off. Come on.”
You shook your head, laughing softly. “You really want me to?”
“Oh, absolutely. Come on…show me how it’s done.”
You laughed again, shaking your head at the ridiculousness of it all, but the heat in your chest flared again at the sight of him. So hard and ready for you, his cock straining against his briefs, and now this. 
Your hands moved slowly, tracing the muscles in his thigh as you leaned forward. His breath hitched, and his body tensed beneath your touch. You slid your fingers beneath the delicate lace of the garter, feeling the warmth of his skin and the taut strength of his muscles underneath.
You leaned in, your lips brushing his thigh as you spoke, voice soft and teasing, “And now you want me to take it off with my teeth?”
His grin widened. “Come on, love. Be a good wife.” He winked, his breath catching slightly when you brought your mouth closer to his skin. “You’ve got a good example now. You remember the party…”
“I remember.” you murmured, voice husky, your breath hot against his thigh. “But I think you enjoyed that a bit more than I did.”
Alex raised an eyebrow, his smirk deepening. “Enjoyed it? I loved it.” His gaze dropped to your lips as they hovered just above the lace, anticipation thick in the air. “Now, be a darling and return the favour, yeah?”
Your laughter was soft, and instead of responding, you tilted your head and brought your teeth to the delicate edge of the lace garter. Slowly, you bit down on the thin fabric, tugging it just slightly, enough to feel his muscles flex beneath your lips. You could hear him inhale sharply, his hands fisting the sheets as you began to drag the garter down his thigh, your teeth grazing his skin with every slow pull.
Alex let out a shaky breath, his head falling back against the pillows as he closed his eyes. “Christ.” he muttered, voice strained with the effort of keeping himself composed. His hips shifted slightly, the fabric of his briefs growing tighter, more constricting as you continued your slow, deliberate descent. 
You grinned around the lace, letting your teeth tug it a bit lower, your tongue brushing the skin of his thigh in a teasing, feather-light touch. He let out a low groan, the sound vibrating through his chest, and you felt his leg tremble slightly as you worked the garter lower and lower.
“You like this, don’t you?” you teased, your voice low and sultry as you finally pulled the garter free, letting it fall to the floor.
He grinned, breathless. “You have no idea.” His voice was rough, full of want, and his hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer. The teasing edge in his expression faded as he looked at you. He was done playing now.
Without breaking eye contact, he hooked his thumbs under the waistband of his underwear, pushing them down. The fabric slid off his legs and hit the floor with a soft thud, leaving him bare beneath you. His cock sprang free, hard and aching, flushed against the tight muscles of his abdomen. You bit your lip at the sight of him, already imagining the weight of him inside you, the heat pooling low in your belly making it harder to keep from squirming.
But he wasn’t nearly done. His hands found your back, unhooking your bra. He pushed the straps down your shoulders, his fingers brushing your skin as he tugged the material off, leaving you completely exposed to him.
The moment your bra hit the floor, his mouth was on you. He didn’t waste any time. His lips closed over one of your breasts, his tongue swirling around your nipple before sucking lightly, making you gasp and arch into him. His other hand kneaded your other breast, rough and tender all at once, his thumb brushing over the hardened peak.
“You drive me insane, you know that?” he murmured, his words muffled against your skin as he kissed and sucked. His breath was hot against your chest. “How do you want me, my love?” His lips ghosted over the curve of your breast as he looked up at you.
Those eyes. Big, brown, and so full of love. There was an innocence to them even now, a puppy-like eagerness. He would do anything to make you happy. His gaze flicked up from your chest to meet yours, and for a moment, you were lost in them, in the absolute trust you saw in the way he looked at you. His pupils were blown wide, cheeks flushed. He looked like the most beautiful mess, a contradiction of shy and brazen, desperate and patient.
You cupped his cheek with one hand, your thumb brushing along the sharp line of his jaw, smiling softly as his lips parted, his breath quickening at your touch. “I want you on top.” you whispered.
For a second, his gaze softened, the affection in his eyes deepening. “Yeah?” he asked, voice tender as his hand skimmed up your side, thumb tracing over your ribs. 
You nodded. “Yeah.”
He grinned. He was so utterly smitten with you that it made him dizzy. Without missing a beat, he moved. Alex flipped you over, his hands firm but gentle as he guided you onto your back. His body followed yours, settling over you, his weight pressing you down into the bed.
He hovered above you for a moment, taking in the sight of you beneath him, completely bare, his fingers tracing the curves of your body. Soft, deep, and all for you. 
“You look…” he trailed off, his breath hitching as his hands slid down to your hips, squeezing lightly. “I don't even have words, darling. You’re...fuck.”
You smiled up at him, a heat spreading through your chest at the way he was looking at you, like you were the only thing in the world that mattered. “So cheesy.” you teased softly, your fingers tangling in his hair, tugging gently to bring his face closer.
“Can’t help it,” he whispered, his lips brushing against yours, “You’re perfect.”
And then, his mouth claimed yours. His hands roamed your body, worshipping every inch. Like this moment was his last. Like it was all that existed. He kissed you like you were air, like he needed you to breathe, and you kissed him back with equal fervour, your hands tracing the strong lines of his back, feeling every ripple of muscle as he shifted above you. 
As the kiss deepened, his hips pressed against yours, his cock brushing against your wetness, and you both groaned at the contact. He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze burning with raw need.
“Tell me what you want.” he whispered, his voice rough, but his eyes gentle as his hand slid between your bodies, his fingers brushing against your slick folds, teasing.
You could barely think, let alone speak, your body already arching into his touch, aching for him. “I want you.” you breathed, your voice shaky with desire. “I want all of you.”
His breath came out in a shaky exhale as your words washed over him. His other hand, which had been tangled in your hair, slowly moved down to your neck, his fingers wrapping around it in a grip that was firm but gentle still. He pressed just enough to make your pulse quicken beneath his touch, a low growl rumbling in his chest.
His gaze flicked back to yours. Leaning down, his mouth hovered near your ear, his breath hot against your skin as he whispered, “Who do you belong to?”
You shivered at the sound of his voice, the weight of his body over yours adding to the dizzying sensation that spread through you. You could feel him, hard and ready, pressed against your wetness, his cock twitching as he waited for your response. But before you could even think about answering, Alex bit down gently on your earlobe, sending a jolt of pleasure straight through you. A gasp escaped your lips, and he took advantage of it, trailing wet, open-mouthed kisses down the side of your neck, each one deliberate, slow, possessive.
His tongue flicked out against your skin, tasting you, before he sucked lightly, his lips pulling at the tender flesh just above your collarbone, marking you, claiming you as his. His teeth grazed your skin, the slight sting only amplifying the heat building between your thighs.
“Answer me.” he murmured again, his voice a little rougher now, more demanding. His hand tightened slightly around your neck, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind you of the power he held over you in this moment. His thumb brushed over your jawline, coaxing you to speak, but you were so overwhelmed, so lost in the feel of him, that all you could do was moan softly in response.
He wasn’t having that. His lips left your neck for just a moment, his forehead pressing against yours as he stared down at you, pupils blown wide. “I need to hear you say it.” he whispered, his voice husky and low, vibrating through you in a way that made your toes curl. “Who do you belong to?”
Your breath caught in your throat, heart pounding as his eyes bore into yours. You felt completely undone beneath him, your body thrumming with the need to answer him, to give him what he wanted, but words still seemed so far away. His hand on your neck anchored you, the pressure sending little shocks of heat through your body, and you couldn’t help but arch into him, your hips grinding against his cock in a desperate attempt to feel more of him.
“I…” you managed to gasp, your voice shaky and breathless as his fingers slid lower, brushing against your wetness again. His name came out in a broken moan, “Alex…”
His lips twitched into a smirk as he leaned down to kiss you again, hard, swallowing your soft whimpers as his fingers moved against you. “That’s not an answer.” he growled against your lips, before moving back down to your neck, his mouth finding the spot he’d already marked and sucking harder this time, determined to leave a lasting reminder of his claim.
You gasped, your hands gripping his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as he drove you mad with his touch. Finally, you found your voice, shaky and breathless as you whispered, “Yours…I’m yours, Alex.”
A low, satisfied hum escaped him, and he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze again, his thumb brushing your lower lip as he grinned, all smug and lovestruck. His hand remained on your neck, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your skin as he studied your face, taking in every little reaction, every hitched breath, every tremor of your body beneath his.
Without another word, he shifted his hips, the head of his cock sliding through your folds, teasing you both with the promise of what was to come. You could feel him throbbing against you, desperate for release, but still holding back.
Slowly, achingly slowly, he pushed into you, the stretch making your head fall back against the pillow. You gasped at the sensation, your hands gripping his shoulders as he thrust deeper, his body sinking into yours, fitting perfectly together like two pieces of a puzzle.
His mouth found your neck again, his hand tightening ever so slightly around your throat as he whispered against your skin, “You feel so good, love. So perfect.”
Your hands flew to his back, nails dragging along his skin as you arched into him, taking him deeper. Every inch of him filled you, the overwhelming sensation of being completely consumed by him making you feel dizzy with pleasure. 
“God- so fucking good.” he groaned, his lips brushing your ear as he buried himself to the hilt, staying there for a moment, with the heat and tightness of your body wrapped around him. His arms shook as he held himself up, his mouth pressing hot kisses along your neck. “You’re everything.”
He didn’t move, just stayed buried inside you, his breath hot against your neck.
“I could stay like this forever.” he murmured, his voice soft now, almost tender as he kissed along your jawline, making his way back to your lips. “You’re so mine.”
Your fingers dug into his back, pulling him even closer, wanting more of him, needing him deeper. “Alex.” you whispered, breathless, your body arching into his, completely lost in the sensation of him inside you. 
His pace picked up, his movements becoming more urgent, more desperate as he began to thrust into you with a need that echoed your own. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you up to meet his thrusts. You could feel him trembling above you, his breath ragged, his heart pounding against your chest.
“Look at me.” he rasped, his voice strained as his hips snapped against yours, his eyes locked on your face. “I need to see you.”
Your eyes fluttered open, meeting his gaze and you reached up, cupping his face in your hands, your fingers tracing his jaw, feeling the light stubble beneath your palms. “I’m here.” you whispered, your voice barely audible, but it was enough. “I’m yours.”
The words seemed to break something inside him. His pace faltered for a moment, his brow furrowing as if he was trying to hold himself back. He leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath coming in harsh pants. “I love you.” he murmured, the words spilling out of him as if they had been waiting on his tongue for too long already. As if he hadn’t said them just minutes before. It would never be enough. “God, I love you so much.”
You could feel his body trembling above you, the weight of his emotions finally catching up with the physical. His hips slowed slightly, each thrust becoming deeper and slower. His hands, which had been gripping your hips tightly, softened their hold, one hand sliding up your body to cradle the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair.
“I love you too.” you whispered, pulling him even closer, your lips brushing against his. “So much.”
Alex groaned into your mouth, his lips pressing more firmly against yours as his hips began to move faster again, the desperation building in him once more. The room was filled with the sound of your heavy breathing, the slap of skin against skin as he thrust into you with a renewed urgency. 
“So good…” he breathed, his voice low and gravelly as his lips hovered just above yours, his hips snapping against yours. Frenzied. “I can’t- fuck, I can’t get enough of you.”
You could feel the tension coiling in your belly, tightening with every thrust, every whispered word from him. His fingers brushed against your throat again, and your head fell back, baring your neck to him. He took the opportunity to kiss and nip at your skin, leaving more marks, branding you as his own again and again. 
“Al-” you whimpered, your hands sliding down his back, nails dragging lightly against his skin as you felt your body begin to unravel beneath him. “I’m so close.”
His hips stuttered slightly at your words, a low moan escaping him as his hand tightened on your waist. He pulled back just enough to look at you again. “I know- fuck-” he whispered, his voice rough and breathless. “I need to feel you…I need to feel you.”
His words were your undoing. The coil of tension snapped inside you, and a wave of pleasure crashed over you so suddenly and intensely that you cried out his name, your body arching off the bed as you came undone beneath him. Your hands gripped his shoulders, clinging to him as you shook.
Alex groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic as he felt you tighten around him. His grip on your waist was bruising now, his control slipping as he chased his own release. He buried his face in your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he thrust into you one last time, his body shuddering as he came with a low, guttural moan.
For a moment, neither of you moved. Your bodies were still tangled together, your breathing ragged as you both tried to come down from the high. Alex stayed buried inside you, his forehead pressed against your collarbone, his arms wrapped tightly around you.
After what felt like an eternity, he lifted his head, his eyes soft and full of love as he looked down at you. His hair was a mess, sticking to his damp forehead, and his cheeks were even more flushed than before. A soft smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he brushed a strand of hair away from your face.
“Okay?” he asked quietly, his voice gentle as his thumb traced the line of your jaw.
You smiled, nodding as you reached up to cup his face. “More than okay,” you whispered, “That was perfect.”
His smile widened, and he leaned down to kiss you softly, his lips lingering on yours for just a moment longer. “Yeah.” he murmured against your mouth. “I don’t think I could ever stop loving you like this.”
You chuckled softly, your fingers brushing through his hair. “I don’t think I’d want you to.”
Alex let out a long, shaky breath as he slowly rolled off you, his body collapsing next to yours on the bed. His chest was still rising and falling rapidly, the remnants of his breathlessness lingering in the air between you. He reached for your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours, and without saying a word, he brought it up to his chest, pressing your palm firmly against his heart. You could feel it pounding beneath your fingertips, each beat powerful and steady.
For a while, he just lay there, staring at the ceiling, his brow furrowed slightly, lost in thought. His thumb absentmindedly stroked the back of your hand, but his gaze remained fixed upward, caught somewhere between awe and disbelief and the lamp hanging from the ceiling. 
“I never knew a love could be so intense.” he finally whispered, his voice soft, almost talking more to himself than to you. His eyes fluttered shut for a second, and then he blinked them open again, turning his head to look at you. “Like this.” he added, giving your hand a gentle squeeze, guiding it against the rhythm of his heart. 
His vulnerability hung in the air. You were both suspended in the quiet aftermath of what had just happened. There was no need for words, but they came anyway, spilling from your lips in a soft murmur.
“It’s wonderful.” you whispered, your eyes locked on his, your own heart swelling with a warmth so intense it was hard to comprehend. You could barely find the right words for it, because how could you? How could anyone possibly describe the way your soul felt wrapped in his, in this moment, so close to the person you loved more than anything?
Alex’s gaze softened as he repeated your words, his voice quieter now, more reverent. “It’s wonderful...” His eyes never left yours as he spoke, the awe now palpable in his voice. He looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered, like you had always been the only thing that mattered, and his hand pressed more firmly over yours, grounding himself more in that truth.
For a long moment, neither of you said anything else. The silence between you was peaceful, filled only with the quiet sounds of your breathing and the distant hum of the night outside the window. He stared at you like he was seeing you for the first time all over again, his fingers still wrapped around yours. He didn’t want to let go. Ever.
Finally, Alex let out a soft chuckle, a small, breathless sound that made his lips twitch into a smile. “I don’t know how we ended up here.” he said, his voice thick as he shook his head. “But I’ve never felt more...alive.”
You turned onto your side, your fingers tracing that spot right in the middle of his chest, where it caved in just that slightest bit. “It’s everything, isn’t it?” you said, trying to put into words the flood of emotions swirling between you.
Alex met your gaze, his eyes shining with a depth of feeling that made your chest tighten. He nodded, his smile growing softer, more thoughtful. “Yeah…” he whispered, his hand still pressed to his heart. “It’s everything.”
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a/n: he’s back. i think it’s decent enough. i’ve missed him and it turned very mushy gushy and sweet. title from “About You” by The 1975 because that song remind me of Al and the lyric about the train is perfect for Mr. Turner
tags: @st7rnioioss @theonlyoneswhoknowsblog @rentsturner @yourstartreatment @avxoxo1 @jqsvi @turnersfav @youresodarkbabe @psychedelicrocker @aacheinthejaw @zayndrider @humbuginmybones @tedioepica
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ahgasegotarmy116 · 6 months ago
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Just Take It | Bonus Drabble 4
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Summary: You come home after a hard day at work and despite your best efforts you can't hep but let it upset you but he's always there to comfort you no matter how big or small your problems are. (A little glimpse into their future together) Pairing: Inexperienced f!reader x Best Friend's Dad Jungkook (20 year age gap) Word Count: 2.2K~ (y'all back to back hella long drabbles damn I'm on one tonight lmaoo) Warning: Some suggestive language but nothing crazy lol a/n: Damn I'm spoiling you guys but idk since I was able it get them done so quickly I thought why not 🤷🏻‍♀️ I promise I'll get back to the main storyline soon but these drabbles have been so cute I cant 😭 (written in one sitting and not edited cuz I need to go to bed lmao) Requested by: @pamzn 💜 Start from the beginning
I take a deep breath before getting out of my car after pulling up to the house.
I don't know why I'm so upset about what happened today. It wasn't even a big deal but something about it just struck a nerve.
Walking into the house I'm greeted by the sight of Jungkook already making dinner and just from that first glance I'm already feeling better.
"Welcome home Bunny. You're pretty late tonight" he says, focusing on the food that seems to be something that may or may not burn if he doesn't pay attention to it.
"Yeah I had some extra work to do so I figured I would just stay later tonight and get it all taken care of so I won't have to worry about it on Monday" I say, giving his a short version of what happened without telling him exactly what happened.
"Look at you, my darling little girl has been working so hard lately" he says as I walk up to him and give him a kiss. Glancing down at his adorable apron he's wearing.
"Maybe you should be my house husband. You look so cute wearing that and making me dinner. Could get used to this" I say getting up on my tippy toes to kiss him again and he smiles into it. "You know I would make a great one" he teases, rubbing his nose up against mine.
"Can you set the table for me baby? It's almost ready" he asks, turning back to whatever he decided to make us tonight. "Of course Daddy" I tease and he gives me a smirk before nodding towards the cabinet to do as he says.
"You still have enough time before it's ready if you wanna go upstairs and change. I know you hate wearing your work clothes all day" he says after I finish the task he had given me.
"Okay" I say and make my way upstairs to do just that but once I'm alone again that playful attitude dissipates and the emotions from before start creeping up again.
I make quick work of getting changed and once I head back downstairs I walk up to him and wrap my arms around him from behind, resting my head against his back, hoping that the feeling of being close to him will take it all away and it does but I can't help but let out a few tears to get some sense of relief.
"What's the matter Bunny?" he asks, the few tears I've let fall having fallen on his shirt and dampened it and soon I let out a soft sniffle which then has him turning around to face me. Caressing my cheek, seeing the sadness written all over my face.
"Baby tell me what's wrong" he says, trying to coax the answer out of me but when the tears start to fall more freely he pulls me in and rests my head against his chest, rubbing my back and telling me to let it all out.
"I should've known something was wrong when you called me Daddy. You only do that when you're upset and not feeling well" he mumbles to himself. He places a kiss on the crown of my head before grabbing my hips and setting me on the counter, trying to make us be at eye level so he can talk to me.
When he does that though I just pull him in closer, letting out a few more cries into the crook of his neck before I start to calm down, my sniffles becoming less frequent and my tears running dry.
He leans back and tilts his head to the side trying to catch my eye and when I still don't look at him he straightens back up and tilts my chin up so he can look at my face, studying me to see if he can read any signs before asking me any questions.
"Did the other interns leave the rest of their work for you to finish up?" he asks, hitting the nails right on the head and I nod while he wipes off my tears, grabbing one of the tissues off the counter to help.
"You gotta tell someone about that. It's not your job to pick up the slack for everyone else" he says, reminding me of the fact that I'm only there to do what I'm responsible for.
"I know but I'm still the new girl so I don't wanna rock the boat already" but he shakes his head at my answer. "You can't let people take advantage of you like that love, they're there to work too so they should be able to finish up their workload just like you do everyday" he says and I nod my head, knowing that in theory but still not wanting to get anyone in trouble.
"Weren't you guys all supposed to go out for drinks after work tonight?" he asks, remembering how excited I was about finally getting invited to spend time with my coworkers outside of office hours.
"Yeah but they said something along the lines of 'Go ahead and finish this up and when you're finished text one of us and we'll let you know if we're still hanging out. Although I think we're probably gonna finish up early tonight'" I repeate what the clearly self appointed queen bee of the total of five interns in our department said to me.
"Oh Bunny" he says, pulling me in for another hug as I let out a sob, still a little emotional about it. "You've had a hard time at work all week and then they go and do this. If you don't tell somebody then I will" he says trying to come to my defense but I just laugh at his protective nature.
"It's alright. I'll email our supervisor and let her know what's been going on" I say and he pulls back and looks me straight in the eyes. "You promise?" he says pointedly and I nod my head, leaning in for a kiss, "I promise" I reassure and he looks at me clearly still suspicious but letting it go for now.
"Honey" I say, grabbing his attention when he decides to head over to the sink and get me a glass of water. "What's up?" I asks, and I look over at the stove before looking back over at him.
"I think your sauce is burning" I say with a cringe and he places the cup that he had been holding down before hurriedly going to turn the stove off, taking it off the heat and assessing the damage.
"I'm sorry" I say, feeling bad for taking his attention off the food he had clearly put a lot of time and effort into based off of all the dirty dishes I see littered around the kitchen.
"It's alright Darling you have nothing to be sorry about. I should've been more careful and turned the stove off" he admits and I take the spoon out of the pan and taste the sauce, doing my best to keep a poker face as he watches me attentively, waiting to see if it's completely ruined.
I place the spoon back into the pan and he waits with bated breath. "So?" he says and I nod my head and swallow down what I had in my mouth. "Yeah it's good" I say and grants me a shocked expression.
"Really?" he asks and then does the same thing I did, surprised that it's still edible. "No" I giggle once he closes his lips around the spoon leaving him yanking it out of his mouth and rushing over to the sink to spit it out, grabbing the cup nearby and using it to gargle and hopefully get the taste out of his mouth.
"That's disgusting! How did you even eat that?" he asks, truly impressed with my tastebuds. "I didn't try very much. Plus I think your reaction was a little dramatic don't you think?" I tease while he gulps down a whole glass of water.
"We clearly have very different pallets because that is horrible" he says, filling up his glass one last time and gargling one more time before placing it in the sink.
"I really am sorry it got ruined" I apologize again but he shakes him head. "You're more important to me than any wacky new recipe I was trying out" he says, cupping my face in both hands and placing a big dramatic smooch on my lips.
"Should we order your favorite?" he offers, pulling up the food delivery app we tend to use. "You don't wanna pick this time?" I ask, remembering that I was the one who chose last time.
"No it's okay you had a bad day so you can pick this time. I'll just choose the next two times we order out" he says and I nod my head. "Sounds fair. Just please, don't pick anything weird again" I cringe, remembering the last time we tried something new.
"Hey! I liked those vegan shrimp burgers" he says, crossing his arms over his chest making me laugh at his pouting face. "Whatever you say Honey. Now hurry up and put your order in too I'm starving" I admit, remembering that I skipped lunch.
"You didn't lunch today huh?" he says, reading my thoughts as soon as they pop in my head. "I swear you're some kind of mindreader" I say, walking past him to get finally get that water that had been promised to me on my own.
As soon as I turn on the faucet I'm granted a slap on the ass making me yelp from the surprise of it. "What was that for?" I groan rubbing the tender flesh and he giggles pulling me in for a kiss running his hands down my back before resting on my ass giving it a squeeze.
"I told you if you wear those little pajama shorts around the house I can't be held accountable for my actions" he smiles against my lips and I hum into the kiss when he pulls me in a bit closer.
"Mmm nope I'm too tired and hungry" I say, pulling away from the kiss and he tries to chase my lips but I turn my face to the side so he ends up kissing me on the cheek instead.
He kisses my cheek a few times but then when I think he's finished he licks a long stripe from my jaw to my cheek bone and it try to wiggle out of his hold but he's got an iron grip around my waist.
"Ew you weirdo let go of me" I say squirming while he laughs, thoroughly enjoying my reaction. "Aw come on I thought I was Daddy tonight" he says, switching to ticking my sides now, no doubt a distraction and a thorough effort in keeping me from getting upset again.
"Okay okay fine Daddy please s-stop" I call out, still trying to get away from his poking and prodding and when he finally lets go I run to the other side of the room to make sure he can't get ahold of me again and just when I think I'm safe he's tackling me down onto the sofa.
"Okay okay I give up you win!" I say, hoping that this tactic will get him to leave me alone. "What do I win?" he asks, amusement written all over his face and when I lean in to whisper all kinds of naughty things in his ear his face goes from amused to seductive real quick.
"Oh yeah?" he rasps and I nod my head and he gets off of me and pulls me up by my hands and starts to try to pull me upstairs. "No no no I didn't say right now! We've got food on the way!" I say trying to remind him of what we've been waiting for this whole time he's been playing.
"Come on they won't be here for like another fifteen minutes" he argues and as soon as he completes his sentence the doorbell is ringing leaving him groaning at the contradiction to his claims.
"See I told you!" I tease while he walks over and opens the door to get the food and thank the driver.
"Yes! Come on let's eat!" I say grabbing one of the bags and rushing over to the kitchen table and start pulling the food out.
"Well I guess I know where your loyalties lie" he sighs and trudges over to the table. "Oh come on you crybaby. First eat this and then you can eat me later if you want to" I taunt and his eyes light up at the though and I swear I can see him drooling.
"Deal!" he says and we spend the rest of the night laughing and loving until the sun comes up. What did I do to get so lucky? No matter how long we've been together that is always my last thought before I go to bed and the first thought I have when I wake up next to him in the morning.
Our relationship might not be the most conventional but I wouldn't have it any other way.
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bully⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
friday, kim taerae— select choir
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⋆˙⟡ zbully1 smut series masterlist! hanbin, jiwoong, hao, matthew, and taerae included. game day (group) chapter here. all 7 endings here.
⋆˙⟡ wc: 2.7k
⋆˙⟡ reader: just one gn!reader version for this (no pronouns are used at all to describe reader; reader is describe as having a "pretty" mouth but no gendered or femme language)
⋆˙⟡ series summary: five bullies. six days. it's gonna be a hell of a week, babe. stay hydrated.
⋆˙⟡ friday summary: it's the end of the most bizarre week of your life. last year, you would've been overjoyed to spend time in select choir with your friend kim taerae. but that all went down the drain after hanbin recruited him into his group of incessant jerks... and he's desperate to officially be one of the guys.
⋆˙⟡ warnings: explicit smut. 18+. minors do not interact. please read specific smut warnings under the cut! swearing. angst. slight dub-con. bullying. the lore for taerae is so SAD. i'll make sure his ending is happy, i promise. also we've got a ft. hanbin chapter but just in digital form.
⋆˙⟡ bully scale: ★★★★★ (5.0)
(idk the bully scale is subjective but like imagine your best friend saying this shit about you WHY IS HE DOING THAT OMG jk i know why and soon you will too)
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EXPLICIT SMUT 18+ WARNINGS: oral, (taerae receiving), throat fucking (reader receiving), brief handjob and heavy petting (taerae receiving), cumming without warning in mouth, filming of sexual act, voyeur!hanbin, slight dubcon but like for both of them kind of idk you'll see but it's slight, bullying, the usual.
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friday.
you should be elated that this week is nearly over. and you are. mostly, anyway. 
but there was an indescribable thrill to all this that you couldn’t seem to shake. all that talk of ravens yesterday had got you thinking...
 why did you dislike ravens in the first place?
thinking. crying. haphazardly finishing all of your assignments due friday that you’d procrastinated the whole week. urgent texts to and from mina after her ✨jiwoong oppa✨ stood her up for their date.
one thing was for certain: you desperately need sleep.
that’s why you’re currently falling asleep sitting up, hard-back music folder open in your hands as professor yoo works with the bass section. the lowest notes of “requiem” are soft and soothing and, for you at this sleep-deprived moment, very dangerous. 
luckily a sharp elbow to the shoulder jolts the drowsiness right out of you.
you look to your left to find kim taerae giving you one of the most judgmental glares you’ve ever earned in your life.
you would expect nothing less from him.
at one time a judgmental glare from taerae was the equivalent of a hug. you returned the gesture happily. and also threw in some hugs whenever he’d let you. he squirmed a bit, but the big smile that would grow on his face made it all worth it.
but there’s no warmth behind his eyes now. just a sharp elbow pointed at you, threatening to strike again if you didn’t shape up quick enough.
“you’re gonna get yourself in trouble,” he warns with a frown.
you roll your eyes. “why do you care?”
“because, unfortunately, some people still think we’re friends,” he says, making thin lines with his pencil on a page of his sheet music. “and i don’t want to suffer the social consequences of your embarrassing actions.”
“mm,” you agree wordlessly. “guess i should’ve thought of that myself.”
he doesn’t respond for a few moments, eyes focused on his sheet music until an audible sigh comes from his direction. “why are you so tired anyway? s’not like you.”
“for all you know, it could be,” you retort with a huff. “maybe i’m a real night owl now. maybe i’m out partying or smoking or... something.”
taerae snorts. “jiwoong hyung was not lying about those tragic acting skills.”
“oh, fuck off,” you reply.
his eyes widen. and then promptly squint with suspicion. “since when did you swear like that?”
you frown, trying to discern what he could mean. hadn’t you always been this uninhibited with your tongue? 
the answer was no. you hadn’t. and this new speech pattern of yours had a very specific origin: monday afternoon. you exhale a chuckle. maybe you had yet to realize the full extent of how this week has changed you.
and how your desire to change back continues to dwindle.
you just shrug, returning your focus to your music. you feel taerae’s eyes on you as you track your vocal section’s part in “requiem”.
you and taerae had purposefully chosen seats next to each other in choir last year so that you could goof off together during every possible free moment. it was also convenient for your parents, who always wanted to get pictures of you two together during concerts ever since high school.
now you wish you went to different universities altogether.
ironically, you might’ve had a better chance of remaining friends if you’d had distance. but you and taerae disagreed quite adamantly at the time.
halfway through your two-hour rehearsal, you’re allowed a fifteen minute break to grab water and stretch your legs. you always wander off down the empty storage hallway, where your favorite vending machine is hidden in plain sight— the one with the oreos and cheez-its and bugles in it. 
pulling out your debit card, you insert the chip into the machine and punch in the number for the snack of your choosing. you watch happily as it falls down from it’s spiral prison into the dispenser below. you start to bend down when a hand reaches in before you and grabs your snack.
“hey, what the—…” you trail off as you come face to face with a cavernous dimple. “give it back. now.”
“you’re so touchy today,” taerae condemns with a click of his tongue. he holds your snack high above his head, dangling it in a challenge. “seriously, what’s gotten into you this week?”
“oh, you know exactly what,” you huff, reaching for the snack in vain.
taerae laughs. “i guess a better question would be: what hasn’t gotten into you this week?”
“you’re so fucking funny,” you snap, fingers finally closing around the wrapper as you yank it down. 
taerae’s brow is raised in surprise, not really caring about the repossession of the snack. “seriously, i’m not used to you swearing like that. i’m not sure if i like it.”
“i assumed there was nothing you liked about me anymore,” you retort, tearing open your snack and shoveling the processed glory down your throat.
“that’s not true,” he replies, hand suddenly reaching to your face. he brushes his thumb across your bottom lip, a crumb transferring from you to him. he brings his thumb to his own lips and tastes it. “i still like your pretty mouth.”
when you finally manage to pick your jaw up off the ground, you shake your head. “i know you don’t think of me like that.”
“uh...” taerae mumbles awkwardly, glancing at the row of shelves behind you. “sure, i do.”
“oh yeah? how about mina’s pool party two years ago? when we—.”
“OH, actually you—,” he interjects urgently, glaring at you to shut up. normally you would. but after this week, you no longer feel bound to quiet compliance. “you don’t need to—.”
“—were playing spin the bottle and it landed on me and you threw up in the pool because you were so disgusted by the mere thought of kissing me—”
his lips crash onto yours, hand cupping your cheek. it’s a demanding, yet tentative kiss and you’re even more confused when it ends.
you take a step backward, folding your arms across your chest. 
“can you just—...” taerae grabs your arm and pulls you closer to him, glancing again at the row of shelves behind you. “yes, that’s perfect.”
“what’s perfect?” you ask with a frown, starting to grow immune to strange behavior after the week you’ve had.
“oh, um.... you,” taerae answers after a moment with a smirk. “you were always so perfect, (y/n). perfect grades. perfect manners. perfect body. i used to jump at the chance to sleep over when your mom would let me. you used to beg her until she finally said yes, because she knew you'd never misbehave. remember, honey?"
eyes wide at the dark shift in his tone, you nod slowly.
“you were so innocent... you slept shirtless, for fuck's sake. peacefully dreaming, while i pretended to be asleep on the floor,” he continues, brushing his thumb across your cheek. “hoping i wouldn't wake you up if i just lifted the covers to get a peek."
when you thought the worst of your pain this week was over…
“tae,” you breathe, eyes watering— pleading for this not to be true. it couldn’t be. at least... not in the vulgar way he was describing it. "you don't mean that."
at the sound of your despair, there's a momentary flash in his eyes. regret. you still know him like the back of your hand.
“why are you doing this?” you ask, hands flying to cup either side of his face. he flinches, trying his best not to look you in the eye again. trying not to let you see. “you don’t have to be my friend anymore if you really don’t want to. but i don’t know why you want to be like them when you’re miles better than they’ll ever—.”
“alright, that’s enough.”
the muffled, tinny voice comes out of nowhere. you look around your immediate surroundings, trying to discern where it came from.
“c’mon, you were doing so well,” the voice rings again. “you said you had this under control, bud. was i wrong to put my trust in you?”
“no, hyung,” taerae answers, shaking his head. “i—… i can do it.”
“hanbinnie?” you ask and then cough awkwardly to cover up the fact you just called your arch nemesis so affectionately. yesterday must’ve gotten to you more than you know. “i mean, hanbin-ah! what the actual hell is going on?”
“no need to worry about it, sweetheart,” hanbin’s voice dismisses again. taerae’s eyes dart towards the shelves behind you once more. you follow his gaze— jaw dropping when you see two camera lenses staring back at you. 
“what—...” you fumble, shaking your head in disbelief as you look at the back of taerae’s phone— propped up with a black music folder. “you’re recording this!?”
“afraid so,” hanbin answers for taerae. “i didn’t really think he could follow through without some supervision. don’t mind me though. unless you just can’t help yourself...”
while at the beginning of this week a situation as perverted and bizarre as this would’ve had your whole nervous system shutting down, you’re still standing tall. present in this strange moment. you smirk.
“aw, tae,” you coo mockingly, turning to your former friend. “how sentimental of you...”
a brow arches in confusion back at you. “what are you––?”
“of course you’d wanna capture such a special moment on camera,” you continue with a patronizing nod. “it’s not every day that you lose your virginity.”
“HEY THAT’S—…” taerae starts to yell at you for sharing this embarrassing personal detail that you’re sure he never disclosed to hanbin. “that’s… that’s not true.”
“oh come on, it’s nothing to be ashamed of,” you twist the metaphorical knife as hanbin stifles a laugh. “i’d be happy to help you out with that, since i was the one who had to listen to you whine for four years about how you were still. a. fucking—”
two fingers are down your throat in an instant. you gag, trying to step backwards, but taerae’s hand finds the back of your head— holding you in place. he removes his fingers slowly, pupils dilating when you whimper in fear.
“i’ve decided i don’t like the swearing,” he says, a sickening hint of sweetness in his tone. any upperhand you had is now gone as he traces your lips with his thumb. “such a pretty mouth. those filthy words shouldn’t be coming out of it.”
“y-you don’t get to decide that,” you stammer unconvincingly.
“so that’s what you really want, then?” he asks, sticking his thumb further into your mouth. you suck obediently. “you wanna have a filthy mouth?”
you nod, his thumb still pressed against your tongue— cheeks hollowed out as taerae bites his lip hungrily.
“then you can have it,” he says before removing his thumb from your mouth and pressing down on your neck and shoulder— forcing you to your knees in front of him. you guess joining the soccer team had really improved his strength. “just remember it’s what you said you wanted.”
taerae unbuttons his jeans, pulling the zipper down. he freezes, clearly unsure of what to do next. maybe this is your opportunity to wiggle your way out of this. if only your curiosity wasn’t equally as strong.
“we––... i have to audition after this,” you protest weakly. “when break’s over, i have to audition for the solo i’ve been prepping for so i want to keep my voice warm right now and—.”
“ah, that’s right. i did forget about that,” he affirms, looking up at the ceiling in thought before smirking back down at you. “but i think i can help keep it pretty warm, actually.”
your attempt to level with taerae only seems to encourage him as he pulls down his jeans and boxer-briefs. you inhale sharply as his hard cock comes to eye-level, so close you can really examine it. though it’s slightly smaller than hanbin’s, it’s thicker and you need to know immediately how it feels in your hand.
“whoah, you—,” taerae stumbles, eyes wide as you take him eagerly in your hand. he stares at you, lips parted as you start to pump him. “holy shit.”
“you’re sure you wanna do this?” you ask, pausing your motion to make eye contact with him. you can tell he doesn’t want you to stop, but there’s conflict lingering there that he just can’t seem to hide.
taerae clears his throat, shaking his head as he resumes his tough guy act. eyes cold once more, he shrugs. “a hole’s a hole.”
after a year of judgmental berating from your former best friend, it was almost comforting to know that he was capable of being even meaner than he already was. it meant that, for whatever reason, he usually didn’t want to be any meaner to you.
he takes both of your hands in one of his, keeping you from using them as his other hand finds the back of your neck again— guiding your face towards his cock. taerae doesn’t need to give much guidance though. you’re aching to get a taste and the way your lips sink down around him nearly knocks the wind out of him.
back pressed against the side of the vending machine, his thumb presses into your cheek— feeling himself inside of your pretty mouth. you swirl your tongue around his tip, causing him to moan softly.
there’s a little bit of rustling coming from where taerae’s phone is propped up on the shelf. you wonder if hanbin’s enjoying this. if he’s touching himself— wishing he was throat deep in you instead.
“c’mon, bud. is (y/n) running this show or are you?” hanbin asks, tone laden with frustration.
“i—... i am,” taerae asserts, grip tightening across the back of your neck. 
he starts to thrust gently into your mouth, an action that you’re not so familiar with. it rattles you a bit— loss of control after feeling like you were gaining it back.
“this is what you asked for, baby,” he reminds you, shallow thrusts starting to venture a bit deeper. “remember? you said you wanted a filthy mouth. so i’m gonna make a mess of it.”
you find the right rhythm to breathe through the thrusts. the tip of his cock is dangerously close to entering your throat, sending another wave of anxiety through you. but it’s not for long. 
your eyes meet taerae’s and, though he’s the one putting you in that danger, you suddenly feel very safe. you let out a sigh, the vibration causing him to mewl. he scratches at your neck affectionately, putting pressure against it to feel himself inside you as he fucks your throat.
“see, keeping that throat nice and warm,” taerae coos as his breathing gets heavier— and his moaning gets louder. “take me so well, i—.”
“shut the fuck up, dude,” hanbin scolds, his own breath growing labored. “do you wanna get caught before you can win the—?”
before hanbin can finish his thought, you feel a warm, sticky liquid begin to pour down your throat. you pull off of taerae, sputtering and coughing as you try to swallow it down. wiping your mouth, you look up at taerae who is looking at you like he wants to dive straight into the han river and never return.
“for fucks sake, are you actually a virgin or something?” hanbin asks angrily. “is that really all you can last for? and, jesus, you’ve gotta warn someone before you do that.”
your throat is starting to burn and you’d love to be able to say something, anything, but the rasp that comes out isn’t pleasant-feeling. you rub at your throat with your now-free hands as taerae’s expression just turns more horrified.
“did i... did i hurt you? fuck, i didn’t mean to—,” taerae starts to babble uselessly until hanbin claps loudly.
“good work, team!” he says as he finishes his round of applause. “mvp definitely goes to me, for coming up with this idea in the first place. i’ll see the campus activities secretary at the big game tomorrow, right?”
“mm,” is all you can croak out. you wish it sounded angrier.
“and i’ll see you at practice tonight, man. i—,” hanbin cuts himself off with a confused look. “wait, where did he go?”
you face forward, expecting to see taerae standing next to the vending machine but... hanbin’s right. he’s vanished.
“that kid’s a piece of work,” hanbin says, shaking his head. “you think he’d be more grateful after i took him under my wing and made him popular. i even got him a spot on the soccer team after a lot of private coaching. i mean, he’s benched for life, but still!”
you’re a saint among men, is what you wish you could say. instead, you just roll your eyes.
“just take his phone and give it back to him in class, will you?” hanbin asks as you stand up and make your way toward the shelves. “and drink some hot tea for that throat, okay? throw some honey in it and you’ll be good as new for tomorrow, i promise.”
you sigh. and you nod. and you pick up taerae’s phone and end the video call. 
and you go back to choir and sit in your black music chair and wait for taerae to come back, but he doesn’t. and when it’s time to audition for the solo you’ve been preparing for, you stay seated and quiet. 
seated and quiet.
like you’ve been for so long.
and when practice ends and the choir room is empty and you remain seated and quiet in your black music chair and tears begin to well up in your eyes, you don’t cry.
you smile.
you stand up.
you shout (briefly, so as not to disturb anyone in neighboring classrooms).
at some point or another, you forgot how to do these things. or you were made to feel like you couldn’t or shouldn’t. 
but that’s who you really are.
who you were always meant to be.
not a juliet. not a violin. not a goalie. not a bird. not a pretty mouth.
you.
you pick up your bag off the floor (and taerae’s) and throw them both over your shoulder, making a beeline toward the door.
absolutely, hanbinnie, you think. you’ll see me at the big game.
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lynzishell · 12 days ago
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The Past 💛 Atlas
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I was over an hour late for the gym tonight, spending the better part of the day in bed staring at the ceiling, and occasionally typing out an apology text to Ash that I would immediately delete.
I had hoped that everyone else would be gone by the time I arrived, but Dawn and Phoenix were still lingering by the climbing machines when I walked in, so I tried (and failed) to avoid them by sneaking up the stairs to the treadmills. Dawn caught up with me before I even reached the first step and knew immediately something was wrong. She insisted on waiting around for me so we could walk home together.
I was annoyed at first, wanting to be alone, but by the time we’re throwing on our sweaters and beanies, I’m glad. Afterall, I’m getting nowhere on my own, just spinning myself in circles. Talking to Dawn is one of those things I avoid until I can’t, and then always wish I’d done sooner.  
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“So, what’s wrong?” Dawn asks as soon as we step outside. It’s dark out, making it feel much later than it is, and I can already feel the weight of the season settling in. Winter is always the hardest for me, and Spring is still so far away.
I’m not sure where to start so I just blurt out, “I screwed things up with Asher yesterday.”
“What happened?”
“Apparently, he’s tired of my mixed signals.”
“Have you been giving mixed signals?”
I give her a guilty look as I nod solemnly.
“What haven’t you told me?”
Everything. But it’s too much to get into, and the details aren’t important, and she knows me well enough that I'm sure she can fill in the blanks, so I tell her, “It doesn’t matter,” to which she gives me an annoyed look but let's me continue, “But he got pissed and stormed out. I can’t blame him. I don’t know what my problem is.”
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“Do you want my honest opinion?”
“Please.”
“Have you ever heard the quote, ‘A person often meets his destiny on the road he took to avoid it’?”
“Yeah. What about it?”
“I get that you’re tired of losing people. And I know that causes you to keep most people at arm’s length. It may feel like you’re protecting yourself, but you’re not. You will continue to lose people if you keep pushing them away.”
“Maybe. But it will hurt less if they leave without getting too close.”
“That’s not true and you know it.”
“Do I?” It feels true.
“Did it hurt when Asher stormed out yesterday?”
Point taken. “Like I was being ripped apart.”
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“So, why are pushing him away? You’re only causing the pain you’re trying to avoid.”
“I don’t want to. Not anymore. But it’s like, I don’t know how not to. I can’t explain it. Just, the idea of taking that step, I feel like it won’t take long for him to see that I’m not who he thinks I am, that he’ll realize I’m not someone he can…” My voice trails off, unable to finish the sentence.
“Love?”
The mere mention of the word causes my chest to tighten. I feel my mind wanting to shrug off the very idea of it. So impossible that I feel silly even considering it.
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“Oh Atlas. It’s not true,” she insists. “That was the kind of shit mom and dad put in our heads. And I get it, I felt like that too for a long time. I just handled it differently. I chased love as if someone else could come in and take that feeling away. But that just made me toxic and clingy and insufferable. It was my own version of pushing people away. And every time they left it felt like proof that I was right, that I wasn’t worth loving. But it wasn’t true, was it?”
“No.”
“It’s not true for you either.”
I understand what she’s saying, and logically I know she’s right, but there’s a part of me deep down that rejects it.
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When I try to continue walking, she stops me, placing a hand over my heart, “I love you, Atlas. And not just because you’re my brother. Because you are caring and kind and gentle and loyal and supportive and I could go on forever. Not only are you worthy of love, but it is impossible not to love you.”
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I don’t know what to say to that. It’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me, and I can tell from the look on her face that she’s sincere. “Thank you.” I reach out and give her the biggest hug I ever have. She’s surprised at first, but hugs me back, squeezing me tight. I don't think either of us realized how much I needed to hear those words. We don't say them often, it doesn't come naturally to either of us, it's usually just implied in the ways we support each other, but maybe we should be saying the words more often. "I love you too."
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“So, what am I supposed to do?” I ask as we step apart and start walking again. 
“Do you want to be with him?”
“Yes.”
“Then go talk to him. And be honest.”
“What if it’s too late?”
“Then I’ll be here for you. But there’s only one way to find out.”
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Prev // Deja vu // Next
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ancha-aus · 3 months ago
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RealAgeAU Drabble - Kitten Lair
Hello I am back! @spotaus get in here friend!
And I know... I know... a bit earlier in the timeline again but i had an idea :D
:D :D :D
Because i am weak! :D
timeline wise: Nightmare got changed into a child like three and a half months ago in this drabble. so the gang has been in farmtale for two weeksish.
first drabble prev drabble next drabble
No beta! We going :D
*-------------------------*
Ccino pauses the clenaing of the counter as he waits impatiently for the last customer to leave. He loves and adores his cat cafe but it is already past 5 and he has been passive aggressively cleaning the tables around them.
Luckily the customers finish up soon after and leave with a cheerful wave.
Ccino rushes to turn the open sign to closed and turns off the main lamps. He closes the roll curtains and gets to work on cleaning the last table.
He however waits with cleaning the coffee machine, just in case.
Ccino keeps glancing at the enterance as he goes about cleaning up the cat toys and hearding the cats out of the kitchen once again. He fills their food bowls and puts fresh water into the water bowls and water fountains.
A glance at the clock shows that it is already half past six and Ccino sighs again.
No show again.
one of the cats stares at him and mews. Ccino glances over and knows it is Berry. He chuckles nad pets him "I dunno little Berry. Maybe I am overreacting..."
He can't help it. Ccino had just gotten used to having Nightmare visit once a week.
Many would proabbly tell him to tell the Stars. to make it obvious something was wrong. There had to be after all with Nightmare visiting.
Except that all Nightmare would do at first was study the cats. Ccino had once managed to collect all his courage, which wasn't a lot mind you, and ask Nightmare what he was doing.
Nightmare had looked at him before answering calmly. That he wanted to study the cats.
Ccino had been very worried. Mostly because there was one small detail about his cafe that people just seemed to ignore. there were the normal cats. the cats that ccino took in and helped find new owners for.
Then there were the special cats. the cats he would never let anyone adopt.
How do you explain that the reason a cat has blue fur is because the cat is somehow connected to an important player in the multiverse?
Yeah. He can't explain that.
Yet... none of the cross-multiverse customers ever seemed to notice. And that is saying something as the cats are not subtle!
But... Nightmare hadn't been here for that. He would always come after closing. He would just spend his time watching the cats interact and play togehter. And then he would leave after an hour.
Ccino had watched him watch them. Taking note that Nightmare never once actually reached out to touch them, even after the cats had gone over to investigate him!
he had pointed it out to nightmare once. just to see. mentioned that the cat near him now really liked pets. Nightmare had frowned slightly before slowly and so carefully petting the cat near him.
That had been a turning point. it is just... it is hard to see someone as evil and unredeemable when he just stared in wonder at a cat who accepted his petting.
Nightmare would keep coming by and Ccino would start to ask him what he wanted drink or food wise. Nightmare had been confused but Ccino had just pointed out the cafe part of the whole situation.
Nightmare would always order the same two things. An ice coffee with a lot of cream and sugar and the white chocolate cheesecake.
He would sit in a chair and just pet the cats that seemed to follow him around.
Nightmare meeting his own cat had been a sight to behold honestly. Noot had sneaked into the area without Ccino noticing only to have Nightmare suddenly have his own cat version licking his skull as if Noot had been planning on licking the goop away.
Trying to keep Noot or any of the gang cats away from Nightmare had been a struggle and eventually Ccino just gave up. He let the special cats near the outcode and nothing bad happened. Nightmar ejust petted the cats that came near him and left the ones who didn't alone.
Ccino sighs and turns off the coffee machine when it hits seven.
He is worried.
Which is stupid! There is no reason why Ccino should be worried about Nightmare! Maybe the other is just busy or something!
But here he is. waiting anxiously for one of his favourite customers to return.
Yes Ccino knows it is weird to grow slightly protective over a god but people just don't get it. Seeing someone interact with animals can change your perspective of someone and the way Nightmare just seemed so fascinated and mystified by the cats? Ccino can't explain how the wonder was just something he hadn't seen on just any customers. Nightmare had looked like he was only learning about cats for the first time in his life.
Ccino shakes his skull and focusses on the cats. he quickly finds Noot and their newest arrival.
Ccino smiles "Hey there Noot. How is your little friend doing?"
Noot opens his one eye and looks up before moving one of his four tails and revealing the little kitten that had just appeared.
Ccino has a good idea of who this little cat is. He had heard the rumours going around. About Dust and Cross having been spotted with a tiny babybones.
Ccino figures that is the kitten. Still strange that Noot was the one to first show up wiht the kitten just riding his back. It wasn't until a while later that the others in the cat gang got invested in the kitten, Dust- euh. Murder was first. Murder would pick the kitten up and go towards a spot and lazily clean the ktiten in the warm sunlight. Killer- well Stain was next. He went all up in Murder's business to get near the kitten. All while Noot just watched over them. Rust had been next and made sure to bring food to the tiny kitten. Rust never seemed to mind the ktiten playing even if it hit the headwound. Oreo was last but was now all over the kitten. staying near and watching continuously.
Another curious thing. How the five adult cats made sure to keep the new kitten far away from any of the other cats. a few tried and Ccino had been worried Murder would live up to his name for a moment there.
Ccino smiles nad pets Noot "Maybe that is why he hasn't visited... I am going to assume you are the baby's main babysitter with how often you are clsoe to the kitten."
It is just.. Noot has been getting slower and weaker. it may not be obvious to others but it was obvious to Ccino. the way Noot tended to hide more. ate less. spend more time just laying around instead of stalking others. How Noot would no longer climb to high places and just stay near the ground.
It is worrisome.
But Ccino has no idea what to do with this information... In matter of fact everyone seemed happy about the fact that the gang was quiet.
Ccino carefully strokes the soft fur of Noot "I am sorry i can't help more."
Noot however looks fully calm as he pushes his skull into the hand for a pet before turning back to the kitten and cleaning him.
Ccino follows the sight. It is a pretty little kitten alright. A beautiful black coat which seems to shine a slight purple in the direct sunlight. soft purple eyes and just the cutest little pink nose and pink toebeans.
The tiny kitten mews uphappily as Noot cleans him. some of that very soft fur sticking up from the cleaning.
Ccino sighs as he pets the older cat, noting that the sharp eyes seemed duller as well, before going to check the other cats. seeing the four other cats join their leader and kitten.
Ccino tries to calm himself as he goes back to the kitchen to finish cleaning and preparing.
everything is going to be okay.
*-------------------------*
Look. I am not gonna lie. I am weak for Ccino and Nightmare having been friends :D
first drabble prev drabble next drabble
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bvttoneyes · 4 months ago
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"You Belong With Me" ~ (jake peralta x reader's version)
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tw! tbh none rly, reader is a SWIFTIE!!! SUCK IT UP!!!
sum! "We've never met but our showers are on opposite sides of the same apartment wall and when we end up showering at the same time, we sometimes sing duets." (guess where i thought of this one...)
i love this prompt sm and it literally is grabbing me by the shoulders, screaming in my face - "THIS IS JAKE PERALTA AND THERE IS NOTHING YOU CAN DO ABOUT IT BESIDES POST IT"
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You move into a new apartment, you got a fair warning before moving in that you're neighbor has a shower directly opposite of the wall of yours. So if you both take a shower at the same time you might hear each other.
You were fine with that. You're fine with thin walls, hearing your neighbor have a entire concert in the shower... oh well. The apartments sorta cheap.
This somewhat annoyment was before and only before you figured out he was a swiftie, then you tried to get in the shower at the same time constantly.
The man seemed to catch onto how you would always start showering as he would begin. What else he notices, you would sing duets together. Everytime he would play a Taylor song in the shower, you would sing along with him.
You both recently would give each other short term solo's during songs. It wasn't only Taylor Swift that played, sometimes it was just early 2000's songs. Still you would duet together nonetheless.
You would go to work and tell your friends about your neighbor that you know nothing about, besides his music taste.
Oblivious to you Jake had been doing the same thing at work.
"Charles!" He whisper yelled across the bullpenn, coming from the elevator. 
He fangirled to Charles about what was happening. Charles was practically begging him to ask you out, apparently he wanted a double date with Jake. Soon.
When you both got home at the same time, which Jake planned, he was going to ask you for your number. Maybe. If he psychs himself up enough.
Because worst case scenario wasn't that you "reject him". Worst case was you get weirded out, you don't ever talk to him again, you avoid him, you never do the shower concert duet thing whatever again.
You don't say anything as your unlocking your apartment, feeling awkward about seeing him. He knows your music taste. That's a detail not many people get to find out about each other. He heard you scream sing "You Belong With Me" in the shower.
"Hey, uh.." Jake said nervously, while walking up to you.
You stop unlocking the door, taking a deep nervous breath in, and putting on a smile.
"Uh, my names Jake. I'm the neighbor that you uh-" You cut him off before he finishes speaking.
"I know what we do." You say with a somewhat nervous snicker, "I'm (y/n)"
He smiles at you, "Hi. Uh, I was just wondering if I could take you out maybe sometime... and maybe get your number with it?"
Your smile got twice as big, you could feel it. You nod your head, not feeling any words possibly coming out anytime soon.
"Really?!" He said excitedly, before starting his cool guy persona again, "I meannnn, coolcoolcoolcoolcool..."
"So I can drive you to a restaurant of your choice at 9:30 on saturday? I'm a police officer, I work weekdays and I work late."
No. He had plans on friday to rewatch every single die hard movie. Also using Saturday gave him plenty of time to be ready to take you out.
"Sounds good, bring Taylor." You say before getting into your apartment.
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froggibus · 2 years ago
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omg okay so like.. maybe hate sex with hanzo or cassidy??? with maaaayyybbeeee just a touch of enemies to lovers??
Right Here, Right Now - Cole Cassidy
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Pairing: Cole Cassidy x f! Reader
Genre: smut/NSFW
Word Count: 2.3k
Summary: you and Cass are not on the best terms—he’s cocky and you’re bratty, but after a particularly difficult mission, Cass finds a way to make the two of you put your difference aside
CW: enemies to lovers (ish), cocky! Cass, use of pumpkin/sweet pea/good girl, reader has female pronouns, rough sex, lots of strong language, fingering, oral (m! receiving), face fucking, hair pulling
haven’t done cass yet so figured I would do him for this one! will definitely think about doing a hanzo version in the future though. enjoy! (also I definitely did not steal some of the smut from a diff fic I wrote about Rooster oops)
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“That’s three for me,” Cassidy smirks at you, standing over the omnics he’s just blown up. “How many did you get again?”
You roll your eyes. “Shut the fuck up, Cass.”
The man whistles at your harsh language, only making you angrier. Your missions together always went like this—him being cocky and insufferable, and you only getting angrier with him. 
The two of you had hated each other for as long as you could remember. Cole had too big of an ego for you to ever like him, and your resistance to what he dubbed his ‘irresistible charm’ only seemed to egg him on. It was a match made in hell. 
“Let’s just get the thumb drive, and get out, okay?”
“Whatever you say, sweet pea.”
You groan at the nickname and resist the urge to punch him in the arm. The halls of the old omnic facility you infiltrated are dark, mostly abandoned. It made the mission easier, you guess, since you didn’t have to deal with highly trained soldiers. 
You turn the corner to the hallway that’s supposed to lead to the control room. You don’t even notice the omnic waiting for you on the other side of the wall. Lucky for you, Cass does. 
He’s pulling out his revolver and placing two holes in it’s head before it can hurt you. You turn to face him with wide eyes. He just saved you—and now you’ll never be able to live this down. 
“That’s four,” he holds up four fingers. “You owe me, pumpkin.”
This time you almost smack him, but he dodges your attack. You decide it’s not worth it, and finish making your way to the control room. It’s empty inside, but you know as soon as you’re done downloading the schematics onto a thumb drive, the omnics will come running. 
You plug in the thumb drive to the centre console and begin the data transfer while Cass stands guard at the door. You don’t have to look to know he’s pacing—spurs clicking against the cement floor. He keeps spinning the chamber of his gun, loading and reloading his bullets. 
The noise is distracting, and you think about snapping at him for it, but you know you’re better off finishing your work first. It takes about ten minutes before you’re done, and right on cue, two omnics burst through the door. 
Cass flashes them before fanning the hammer on his gun. He shoots you a wink to which you roll your eyes. “Let’s get out of here.”
You sneak out of the data room and head back the way you came. There’s surprisingly no sight of the omnics, until you round the corner to see a massive group of them marching towards you. 
Cass grabs your arm and tugs you into a storage closet, pressing you against the door. His hand moves to cover your mouth, the other one next to your head on the door. 
“Not a word,” he mouths. “Let them pass.”
You shake your head in agreement, prying his hand off of your mouth. You narrow your eyes at the man towering over you. There’s a look in his amber eyes that tells you he’s enjoying this. 
You wait until the clunking of metal disappears before sneaking out of the closet. You have to hand it to him—his instincts are pretty sharp. The two of you make it out of the facility without a hitch, and before you know it, you’re fast asleep on the jet ride home. 
The briefing with Morrison when you get back is long, drawn out and boring. Cass is leaning back in his chair, boots on the table, muttering stuff to Reyes under his breath. 
You dig your elbow into his side and mutter a quick “shut up.”
He glares at you, but doesn’t say anything. You shiver under his gaze. He’s never looked at you like that before. You decide not to push him more. 
When you’re finally out of the briefing, your mind is set on one thing: a hot shower and a Gatorade. You grab the Gatorade out of the fridge and head back to your room. 
You’re in the process of changing when there’s a knock on the door. “Go away!” You shout, “I’m half naked!”
The door starts to open but you slam your body weight against it and hold it closed. “What the fuck! I’m naked!”
“Then get dressed, l/n!” Cassidy’s voice calls from the other side, “I needa word with ya!”
“Get lost!”
It goes quiet on the other side for a minute until the door is shoved open and you’re sent tumbling onto your ass. Cassidy closes the door behind him, standing above you with a scowl. 
“What the hell—“
He cuts you off, “no, what the hell to you! What’s with the fucking attitude, huh?”
You raise an eyebrow. Through all of your antics, Cassidy had always been a light tease. Never straight up mean or angry like he was right now. 
You scramble to your bed, tugging a throw blanket over your half naked body. Your face heats up at the thought of him seeing you like this. 
“Fucking hitting me in the briefing room right in front of Reyes and Morrison! Telling me to shut up like I’m a lil kid or somethin’,” he stalks towards you. “And don’t even get me started on the mission.”
“We can talk about this when I’m fully clothed! For now, get the fuck out!”
He’s standing next to your bed, hovering above you now. “No, we’re doin’ this right now.”
You think he’s going to yell at you, ream you out, or god forbid, hit you. His hand moves, and you’re frozen in your seat. Before you know it, his hand is in your hair and he’s tugging you roughly towards him. 
His lips meet yours. He’s rough with you, using your hair as leverage to move you however he wants. He climbs on top of you, effectively pinning you beneath him. 
Despite the situation and your distaste for him, you can feel yourself getting wetter as he kisses you. 
“You gonna be a good girl and let me fuck you?”
You can only nod. 
He moves his lips down to your neck, sucking and nibbling. He laughs into your skin at the whimpers that leave your mouth. You bite your lip, trying to keep quiet and not moan out his name like you desperately want to. 
One of his calloused hands moved to your bra, cupping and pawing your tits through the fabric. You arch your back, desperate for more contact. 
“Cass—“ you moan before realizing what you said. 
He pulls away, a smirk on his face. “What was that?”
You roll your eyes and yank him by the collar back to you, flipping over so that you’re straddling his hips. You feel his hard on rubbing against your core. 
You breathe hard as he moves down to kiss your neck some more. You bite your lip and try to stop the moans that were slipping out.
He notices this, ripping your bra in half and pinching your bare nipples. 
You moan loudly and he pulls back with a grin. “That’s right,” he grunts, “say my fucking name.”
His lips move from your neck down to your collarbone, sucking the outline of it. He suddenly flips you onto your back, digging his knee into your clit.  You arch your back, bucking your hips to try and get more pressure. 
You can feel the vibrations against your chest as he laughs at how desperate you are. 
His lips move to your nipples, sucking big, sloppy marks onto the sensitive tips. Whenever you get too quiet for him, he pinches and twists them to get you moaning for him again. 
Your panties are soaked through, dripping down your legs and onto the sheets below. 
He pulls away, standing up and tugging off his shirt. Your mouth falls open. You’ve seen him without a shirt before but something about knowing that this time you get to touch him, get to admire him, made it even better. 
He unbuckles his jeans and tosses them onto the floor, revealing his black boxers and the hard bulge behind them. You bite your lip slightly and crawl across the bed towards him. 
You brush your hands against his waistband, eyes wide at the sheer size of his bulge. He has a smirk on his face, knowing you’re staring. 
You pull down his boxers and watch his cock spring free, standing hard in your face. You reach out and start to move your hand up and down his shaft. 
The smirk on his face is replaced by a look of pleasure. You’re the one smirking now, knowing that you hold the power here. You lick his tip and he bucks his hips, whining desperately. 
“Don’t tease me,” he warns.  
You keep smirking, swirling your tongue around his tip. He moves his hips once more, forcing his tip into your mouth. You gasp in surprise, allowing him to push more into your mouth. He’s smirking now. 
You grip his thighs and force more of him into your mouth, enjoying the sweet taste of his cock. He completely fills your mouth, stretching your jaw to the point it’s almost painful. 
He lets out a series of moans, tangling his hand in your hair and using it to guide you up and down his shaft. You can feel yourself getting wetter at him fucking your face. 
Drool leaks down his shaft and down your cheeks, and as you look up at him, you can see something you haven’t quite seen on his face before. Admiration. 
“Shit,” he groans and pulls away from your mouth. 
He pulls you off of your knees and pushes you back onto your back, climbing on top of you. You know what’s coming and move your hips in anticipation. He slowly rubs his hand up and down your soaked panties. 
He laughs. “Looks like you’re excited.”
You whine as his fingers find their way into your panties and start to rub your clit. You buck your hips against the pads of his fingers, silently begging for more. 
He rips off your panties and slowly pushes one of his fingers inside of you. “Goddamn, you’re so tight,” he groans. 
You can only whimper and agree with him, thrusting your hips into his hands. He adds a second finger, scissoring them to stretch you more. 
You’re singing his name like a prayer, begging him for more. 
He pulls his fingers out with a squelching sound, the slick running down his hand. He suddenly puts them in his mouth and sucks it off. 
He positions himself above you, lining his hips up to your core and starting to push his cock inside of you. It’s way bigger than it felt in your mouth and you find yourself straining to take it all. 
He hasn’t even bottomed out yet when he stops. “Come on, can’t take a few more inches?”
Your face heats up and you desperately wrap your hands around his neck and hide your face on his shoulder. “Just shut up and fuck me, Cassidy.”
“If you say so.”
Suddenly his hips snap against yours, hitting you so hard it’s sure to leave a bruise. All the breath in your body is knocked out of you and you have no time to recover as he pulls out and slams into you again. 
You scream his name, his cock mercilessly stretching you, the hard length dragging up your sopping walls. 
“That’s it baby,” he groans, “scream my name. Let everyone in the fucking base know whose making you feel this good.”
You cry out even louder as his hand finds it’s way to your puffy clit, working you up to your peak. You pull him even closer to you, scratching your nails down his back. 
Both of you are lost in the heat of the moment, building up to the fireworks you both desperately want. 
Then, it hits. Your legs shake and you clench hard against Cassidy, holding him as close as possible. 
“That’s it,” he murmurs in your ear, “cum on my cock, cum on my fucking cock.”  
You whimper as your orgasm comes to an end while Cass keeps going, his thrusts becoming sloppier as he gets closer. In an instant, he pulls out quickly and spurts of his hot cum land on your stomach and the bottoms of your tits. 
You collapse onto your back, panting heavily. 
He sits up, leaning over the bed. For a minute, you think he’s going to leave. Then, he stands up and puts his boxers back on. He grabs his t-shirt and uses it to wipe his cum off of your stomach. 
“Thanks,” you pant. 
He nods and flops back onto the bed next to you. “How are you feeling?”
“Like it’s gonna be a pain to train tomorrow. Literally.”
And you were telling the truth. He’d fucked you so hard and so good, you know it’s gonna be a struggle to walk, let alone do training. 
“Maybe they’ll give you a sick day.”
“Yeah, cause ‘sorry Commander, my partner just fucked me so hard I can’t walk’, is a great excuse for a sick day,” you laugh. 
“Well,” he grins. “When you put it that way…”
You hit his arm gently, still breathless. He catches your arm when you go to pull away, using it to pull you into his chest. His skin is hot against yours, and slightly sticky from the sweat. 
“So, are we good, or do you need another attitude check?”
You roll your eyes. “I think we’re more than good,” you grab his hand and tighten his grip around your waist. “So just shut up and hold me.”
“Yes, ma’am.” 
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