#I have so many thoughts about this man I’m about to pull up references and bibliography

[hotwheelschili]

Sainz Sr has always rubbed me the wrong way, maybe not like Jos Verstappen levels of ick, but pretty up there… that mentality he taught Carlos from the young age that he has to toughen up if he wants to succeed, I can’t imagine saying to my kid that he can’t be himself and be successful at the same time. And sure, maybe this mentality is right for the sport, but it seems like it’s not right for Carlos as a person which in turn affects him as an athlete because he’s afraid to disappoint his father or embarrass their family name so he has to play up the ‘tough’ act. Idk. My perception is that he’s just different than his dad but he’s been molded into someone else his whole life so there’s a big conflict inside of him. His dad needs to step away from managing Carlos’ career me thinks, I feel like that would bring Carlos at least some peace

I wanna relate the ‘toughen up’ with the way he acts around people, he’s so constructed around patriarcal masculinity that being soft around people is weak and so he has to masc his affection by being rough (ie. his way of showing affection is physical touch but feminine! So I’ll hit and shove and throw you around bc I’m a man and I’m supposed to be rough)

It’s so obvious that senior is the most important member of the sainz family, he’s a renowned sportsman plus I’m guessing he’s the responsible one for the family’s wealth and political power so everyone looks up to him as the leader and so being named Carlos, after him is such a big honor and you’re the only boy! So you have to carry on the legacy of the successful sainz family, so you have to live up to be as great and efficient and be a leader, be a shark, a force to be reckoned with, that’s what you father tells you since you are 6, and all the family around you telling you “you got to be as great as your father”. In a family with such conservative and patriarcal values there’s no room to make a mistake or even be mid, it’s glory or failure, and they won’t hesitate throwing at his face everything they have given him and his only job being to be the person they boast around in gatherings and events.

But Carlos, he’s soft, he show he cares, he doesn’t like putting people down, he never boasts about winning bc he can see that the real fun part was the activity and not the result, ofc he likes winning, everyone does but like with lando, when asked who wins at golf and saying ‘oh in the end we didn’t keep score’ or with charles in the challenges, whenever charles gets too competitive he always offers to share the points instead or recognizing his efforts out loud.

I think he does feel immense pressure of living to his dads standards, show him he can be as good as his dad expects him to be, a carlos sainz as good as carlos sainz and the spanish media have a whole cultural background approach to carlos that he has to be perceived as a tough, emotionless guy, he always sounds snarky and very masculine coded when talking to dazn, very matter of fact. With his country also expecting him to succeed like the other spaniard in the grid with 2 wdc.

I agree with you, if his dad stopped managing him I think he would be able to relax and craft his approach to the sport that he loves in a more personal way and not with his dads expectations but also financial and political interests looming over him.

This was very rambly and messy and the anthropological pov discourse possessed me for a little bit there.

If you have any more thoughts I’ll be happy to read them.

[reidmotif]

Always Bet on Black

Summary: Reader realizes she has an advantage at the Bureau's Casino Night, when Spencer can't seem to take his eyes off her and her dress.

Prompt: The BAU throws a casino night charity fundraiser. Spencer is a menace. Someone has to find a way to distract him.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: drinking, gambling (i have never gambled in my life nor have i played poker or blackjack. this will be super apparent in this fic. many apologies), nipple play, oral sex (f!receiving) hickies, Reader POV, unprotected penetrative sex

Word Count: 3.7k

Masterlist

“And that’s another win to the gentleman on my right!”  The dealer announces for what feels like the millionth time that night. There's a shit-eating grin on Spencer Reid’s face as he leans over the blackjack table, wrapping his arms around the hearty stack of chips in an almost in an exaggerated manner, pulling it back towards him much to everyone’s dismay. 

My dismay, especially, because while- yes, this is for charity, and what Spencer’s doing could be characterized as noble in some roundabout way, it was getting a bit repetitive. Spencer was so focused, a thousand times more than anyone else at that table, his brain working a million miles a minute to provide him with the best course of action when it came to gambling.  

And so far? It worked perfectly. While everyone else was taking their chances and betting away, praying that the odds would line up in their favor, Spencer Reid did fucking math, and suddenly the odds were his bitch.  I was beginning to understand why every casino in Las Vegas had him banned now. If he was giving the BAU Casino Night a run for their money like this, I can’t imagine the Bellagio being too pleased with having him either. 

I sighed at the thought, and it seemed Spencer picked up on it, the corners of his lips turning upwards, trying to feign a chagrin expression as he stacked his chips on top of the other. 

“Something wrong, (Y/N)?” He says, looking at me. “Are you not enjoying yourself?” 

Spencer Reid is usually nice, humble, and sweet. In all honesty, I should not be feeling this hostile and sore at the fact that he’d managed to beat me almost every single time we’d played blackjack. My embarrassment was only heightened when I thought of how I’d (stupidly) bragged beforehand that I’d never lost a game in college. 

How quickly my streak was destroyed. 

My pride was bruised, and the man in front of me knew it. 

“I’m enjoying myself just fine.” I say, trying not to grit my teeth as I say the words. 

“You look a bit hot.” He says, referring to my face that had gotten slightly red after the most recent loss I’d taken. “Would you like me to get you a drink?” He asks, his gaze turning less cocky, and more sweet and polite. 

I melt a bit. “Okay. No need to be a sore loser.” I think to myself. “This is a sweet man, and he’s offering you a drink. Yes, he’s destroying you right now and knows it, but it’s not like he’s acting like a complete dick about it.”

I nod at his words, sending a small smile his way. 

“A drink would be great actually.” I finally respond, and he gets up, pushing his chair in. 

“I’ll be right back.” He says, turning away from me, and sauntering towards the bar.

 I take a second to admire him as he walks away, the suit and tie ensemble he picked out for the night complimenting him so well. I’d never say it out loud, considering we were coworkers, but something about seeing him so dapper, so much more.. mature brought out a warm feeling in my stomach, one that made me shift in my seat as I tried to rid myself of thoughts of grabbing him by his tie, placing a hand on his perfectly sculpted jawline, pulling him against me and- no! 

He. Is. Your. Colleague. Snap out of it! 

In lieu of my wandering thoughts, I’d realized I had actually heated up quite a few degrees and in an attempt to combat the sudden body heat, I shrugged off the shawl I’d been donning for most of the night. I felt the cool air hit my exposed shoulders and chest, and relaxed a bit, starting to feel my temperature lower. Right as I did so,  Spencer returned to his seat, holding two drinks. 

I turn towards him, still seated. He’s sitting in his seat, facing towards me as well, and I instinctively reach over to grab the drink in his hand, expecting him to meet me halfway and transfer the cup to me.  But instead of the expected interaction, he seems a bit dazed, an intense expression on his face as he bored his eyes into me, studying me almost. It’s an expression that causes me to raise my eyebrows at him. 

“Spencer?” I say. “Hello?” I wave my hand a bit, trying to break him from his trance. “The drinks?” I add, and that’s what seems to break him out of his preoccupied stupor. He blinks a bit before shaking his head.

“Sorry. Sorry. I spaced out there for a moment.” He says, hastily handing me my glass and turning away completely from me, taking a sip out of his. I can notice a small tremor in his hand as he sets down the liquid on the table, and I’m a bit concerned. He was just fine a moment ago. Did someone say something whilst he was at the bar? Did he choose to ponder some life-changing information as he took his seat at the table? Was he losing it for no reason at all? 

Regardless of what it was, I didn’t have the time to contemplate it further or question him about it because the dealer was beginning to shuffle the deck of cards again. 

As the next game started, there was something fundamentally different about Spencer. He looked  almost panicked, even going as far as to loosen his tie as he played. I thought I’d maybe imagined the changes, until finally, I got a real indicator that something was off. For the first time that whole night- he lost. 

My mouth was agape as the dealer announced the house win, and as I looked between him and the table, he didn’t seem all that fazed, simply shrugging as he attempted to get up. Before he could slip away, I grabbed his arm and brought him a bit closer to me, so that I could speak to him over the sounds of the bustling party around us.

“Spencer- wait. Is something wrong?” I ask, the genuine concern in my tone apparent to anyone who might’ve walked by. 

“Yeah, no. Um. Why wouldn’t it be?” He says, his eyes everywhere except me. It was almost comical. The ceiling tiles couldn’t be that interesting. 

I grip his arm a little harder, urging him to look at me, to talk to me. “You lost! That hasn’t happened all night! Was someone- did something happen? Are you feeling okay?” I ask, my eyes trying to meet his. 

He gulps, finally looking at me. “Statistically, card counting can’t actually work every time so I was bound to lose at some point right?” He says, a little shakily, and despite his words making logical sense, the notion that something was wrong didn’t leave me. 

“You promise?” I say, looking at him as intensely as I possibly could to ensure he wouldn’t try to evade giving me an honest answer. 

He gives his signature, flat smile, nodding. “I’ll be fine. Look. I’m gonna go play some other games. Maybe rack up my luck somewhere else.” 

I lick my lips and finally let go of his arm, nodding. “Have fun.” I say, and he gives me a little wave. 

“You too.” 

For the next hour or so, I found myself dabbling at the other assortment of games offered by the Bureau that night, until yet again, my path crossed with Spencer, who seemed to be on a pretty hefty winning streak- if the stack of chips he’d accumulated wasn’t a clear sign of that already. 

I stood by the table, slightly out of his view,  a little amazed by the way his eyes followed the deck and everyone’s movements so precisely. The level of focus required to do what he was was absolutely no joke, and I couldn’t help but admire in silent awe at the exactness of the whole process. It only made him that much more attractive in that moment, if that was even possible. 

“Royal flush.” He announces, fanning his cards as everyone at the table groans. It’s only then when his gaze meets mine, watching him, and I can observe the signs of a tell-tale blush creeping up his neck. Odd.

“(Y/N)! Hello.” He says, quickly. “Still liking the party?” 

“I am, thank you.” I say, my eyebrows slightly furrowing at how oddly he’s behaving. “Mind if I join the next round?” I ask, already starting to take my seat. 

“Yeah, yeah. Of course.” He says, clearing his throat and turning his entire body away from me. Spencer and I usually got along just fine. There was nothing ever particularly sour about our relationship, and I’d like to think that in the time I’d spent at the Bureau, our shared experiences had brought us closer. However, the way he was acting as of right now, like we were strangers or mere acquaintances threw me off beyond belief. 

It was official, something was off.

I leaned over a little closer, trying to get him to look at me.

“Spencer, I know I’ve already asked but is anything-“ I start, and I can see him glance over, and then almost rapidly turn his gaze away.

“No! Nothing’s wrong. Let’s play.” He rushes out, his words teetering on almost being high pitched. 

It didn’t evade me however, in that short microsecond he took to look at me, his gaze dropped partially down. I internally followed his line of sight to realize that my breasts were practically spilling from my dress. I knew that it was a bit showy, but didn’t think much of it when I’d chosen to wear it for this occasion. The event was black-tie, and so I’d fished out a number I’d haphazardly bought during an online shopping spree. It was black and sparkly, but the main caveat of the dress was the gorgeous bodice in the front, managing to give a good show of cleavage whilst pushing up my breasts and making them all that more appealing to anyone who noticed.  I began to connect the events of the night, realizing that someone clearly had noticed.

Spencer’s losing streak had coincidentally begun once I’d lost the shawl that was once covering my chest. 

An idea slowly entered my head. An experiment, if you will. As we started another game, I barely paid attention as my fingers slid over to what looked like a glass of water on Spencer’s side. 

“Spence?” I murmur, tapping his shoulder.

“Mm?” He asks, not even taking a moment to look away from his cards. 

“Mind if I take a sip from your water?” I ask, keeping my voice saccharine and innocent.

I can see the look he shoots me, his eyes slightly narrowed in surprise but he quickly looks away. “Yeah, um. Sure. Go ahead.” He responds dismissively, as if talking to me for even a second longer would result in him breaking out in hives. 

 Totally out of character. For all the closeness in the world, Spencer Reid would never have shared a glass of water. 

As I began to sip the water, I did something that could be categorized as deeply stupid, but in the name of my experiment, it was absolutely necessary. I slightly tipped the glass, allowing the cool water to run down my neck and drip onto the swell of my breasts. I made a show of getting up, touching my chest to try and rid myself of the moisture that was now coating my breasts. 

“I’m so sorry, Spencer. I’ll get you another glass of water.” I say,letting my breasts bounce a bit as I stand up,  and when he looks at me, it’s more apparent than ever that his eyes aren’t gracing mine anytime soon. Not when I was like this. 

I grinned in secret as I turned around,  quickly bringing over a replacement glass to him, leaning over so that if he were to simply turn his head even slightly to his left, he’d get a direct look at what he simply couldn’t seem to take his eyes or mind off tonight. 

“Uh. Thanks.” He stammers again, shakily drinking the water as he miserably failed at not looking. Bingo. 

When the next round of our game commenced, he lost horrifically, as expected. His mind was in an entirely different dimension, and I couldn’t help but feel a bit of pride, knowing it was me who’d rendered him dumb. So unfocused. So unlike himself. It wasn’t until I felt a tap on my shoulder, noticing Spencer’s hand carrying out the action. 

“Walk with me.” He says, simply. His tone was so sharp and commanding, I found myself listening with no hesitation, following as we moved to a more secluded bit of the party. 

“What are you doing?” He asks in an accusatory tone, his voice a hushed whisper. 

“What do you mean?” I respond, a faux naivete in my words, which he only scoffed at. He leaned in closer, his brows furrowed. I could notice a small vein popping out from his forehead, and the sight only increased the ache I’d begun to feel in my panties since he’d directed me here. 

“You know what I mean.” He says, dangerously. “You’re flaunting yourself.” He adds, his jaw tight. “You know what it’s doing to me. You’re enjoying it.” I could tell he wanted to say so much more, the grit in his tone leading me to believe there were some much cruder words he wished to utter to me.

 Regardless, the authority in his tone only spurred me to try and resist. It was so hot watching him like this. Maybe a bit fucked up to say that, but it didn’t matter in that moment. I only wanted to test the limits. To see the new man I could bring out in Spencer Reid tonight. 

“So what if I am?” I say, biting my lip. “It’s a party, Spencer. We’re all having fun, aren’t we?” 

“No.” He responds, darkly. “I’m not having fun.” 

A proposal came to mind. One I knew that would pan out deliciously, since I’d now gotten a look into his extensive lust tonight, and just how desperate he seemed. I leaned forward to whisper to him, my lips teasing the outer shell of his ear. 

“Win another game, and I’ll show you just how much fun you could be having.”

He immediately pulls back. His eyes narrow, and I can see the weight of my words course through his mind, evaluating the odds of my statement before clicking his tongue. 

“See you in 30 minutes.” is his response, as he walks away, beckoning me to follow him to yet another Blackjack table. I grin, sitting beside him. 

My presence doesn’t seem to phase Spencer whatsoever this time around, his laser-point focus uninterrupted even as I stared shamelessly at him. It wasn't until the game seemed to be reaching its turning point, in which Spencer had to decide whether drawing or staying would bring forth a better outcome for him. I watched as he mulled over the decision for a few seconds before his eyes locked onto mine, gaze intense. 

“Draw.” He voices, not even paying mind as the dealer announced his win. 

Spencer gets up without a word, and I can see him head towards a hallway that houses a few restrooms in the building. 

“Sir- your winnings!” The dealer calls out, but I smile apologetically, starting to follow Spencer to a more secluded area of the party.

“Sorry. He’s probably a bit preoccupied. I’ll let him know!” I respond, already turning around and making my way to the same hallway Spencer had gone down, finding the bathroom and opening it. I knew Spencer would be there, but what I didn’t expect was to be pulled into his arms, greeted by Spencer’s lips insistently pressing against mine, his free hand clutching the back of my head, as his other hand went to click the lock into place. I responded with a momentary bout of shock, but quickly found myself melting into his touch, wrapping my arms around his neck. 

“You like watching me lose, is that it?” He whispers harshly, in between kisses. I can feel the anger, the lust and passion, all rolling into one as his lips meet mine, over and over again, creating the sweetest of sensations that wracked my whole body. 

“Mm. Not just you losing. You losing because you’re distracted. Because of me.” I say, my tone a bit dazed and breathy from the intensity he was putting me through. 

“Can you blame me?” He murmurs, his lips now trailing down my neck, paying close mind to a particular spot on the side that left my knees weak. “You wear this dress and expect me to not take my eyes off of you?” 

His hot breath grazes over my skin and I can feel myself shiver. I’m completely overwhelmed by him. The feel of his hands caressing the small of my back and waist, his smell of his cologne wafting around me. I can only breathe unsteadily, and hold onto him, a needy whimper slipping past my lips. 

“Shh. You’re okay. I got you.” He murmurs. His tone was sweet, soothing, but his actions were anything but, as his fingers slipped around to find the zipper on my dress. 

In an instant, his mouth was finally all over my breasts, his mouth leaving a few marks on the expanse of my chest before his tongue began to sweep over my nipples, swirling around the raised bud, leaving me grappling to his shoulders, as more moans poured out from within me. 

“You like that?” He breathes against my skin, and I nod, frantically. I’d never expected to go this weak, but he was so much more skilled with his mouth than I’d ever expected.

“Please. Keep going.” I moan, and I can feel his hands on my thighs, urging me into his arms. I comply, and can feel myself be lifted to the bathroom counter, his hands squeezing the fat of my hips before dropping to his knees. His fingers looped around my underwear, and I attempted to move in a way that would aid him in their removal. As soon as they were off, he stuffed them into his pocket, and moved to lift my dress up, his face disappearing into my now spread legs. 

And suddenly he was everywhere, tongue swiping over my clit in rapid motions, flicking against me in a way that had me immediately squeezing my thighs around his face, to which Spencer responded by pushing them apart, leaving me shaking. 

“Oh god, Spencer. Oh-” I moan, over and over again, my hand gripping onto the strands of his hair. My eyes squeeze shut as I feel my orgasm rapidly approaching, my legs trembling more than ever. 

“Spencer- I’m gonna-” I groan out, my grip tightening, and I look down, watching him devour me with so much precision and focus, the same I’d seen during his playing all night. I watched as his eyes met mine, his lips sucking around my clit and in a fit of moans, I found myself releasing all over his tongue, my body shuddering as he worked me through my orgasm, moaning against my core. 

He rose from his knees and planted a long, deep kiss on my lips, and I moaned as I tasted myself on him. My hands started to go for his belt, desperate to feel this man inside me. As soon as his cock was freed from the confines of his briefs, I guided him towards my entrance, gasping as I felt him push into me, immediately filling me up. I breathed in sharply from the pleasure of the sensation, my eyes screwing shut before opening them to see his eyes staring back at me. He gave me a moment to adjust, watching my face for any sign of discomfort, but there was none, only the carnal desperation I felt for this man. I nodded to let him know I was ready,  and suddenly, like a man possessed, he began to jut his hips towards mine, causing me to whimper and dig my nails into his back. 

He moaned as he slammed into me, over and over again, while his mouth kissed at my neck, at my jaw, my lips, murmuring my praises over and over again. 

“I’ve wanted this for so long.” He groans, my hips firmly gripped by his large hands, keeping me from slipping off the counter. “And that dress. Fuck. God, I want you.” 

I nod, too overwhelmed with pleasure to even speak, rather opting to moan his name and nod furiously. 

He kept one hand on my hip, while the other trailed down to where we were joined, and began to rub fast, hard circles over my already sensitive bud, the action causing me to gasp out and open my eyes, letting him know that my second release of the night was inevitable. 

“You wanna cum, pretty girl?” He mumbles, keeping his voice low and his fingers diligent on my clit. 

“Please,” I sob out, my voice breaking with just how much I needed this right now. How much I needed him. 

“Come for me.” He murmurs, and as if under a spell, I do, coming undone rapidly in his grasp, my head falling against his shoulder as he continues the movement of his hips until I feel him still, and then spill into me, his breath heavy and chest heaving. 

I pull back, my forehead meeting his as he stares at me in a bit of a trance, our breaths mingling as we both came down from what had just happened. 

“I think.. you should probably cover up.. after that.” He murmurs, grinning a bit at the wide array of marks he’d just left on my neck and chest, undeniably exposing us. 

“Right you are.” I giggle back, leaning in for another kiss.  This time sweeter, softer.

I was definitely wearing this dress again for him.

  hello!! oh my god!! it has been so long since i've posted a fic. finals are over! i am free! i promise we will be back to a more normal schedule now (can i do weekly fics? who knows. i'll try). as usual, thank you for any and all reblogs, likes and comments. it's been a long time since i've even thought about writing, so i hope this is up to everyone's standards. this was written for @imagining-in-the-margins office party challenge. so, you know. look at the other fics there too! sorry for clearly not knowing anything about card games. also also, just a fun fact. i envisioned readers dress being meredith grey's prom dress from s2ep27.. hehe. okay, i've already talked enough. thank you thank you thank you for reading and supporting!!!

[steddiecameraroll]

ao3 - "Destined to be surrounded by a bunch of geeks"

“I’ll tell you the same thing I told Robin. Funko pops are the modern day beanie babies.” Steve shrugs as if he didn’t just compare Eddie’s precious collection to tiny stuffed useless animals from the 90’s.

“How dare you,” Eddie glares at Steve through the corner of his eye, as he gently slides his newest conquest carefully onto his bookshelf.

“Think about it. They’ve been saying they’re going to be worth something in the future. Just like they said about beanie babies. You’re keeping them in their boxes. For what? Resale value?” Steve puts his hand on his hip like the cocky bastard he is.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Eddie tries to ignore Steve’s logic. The perfectly reasonable logic.

“You should take one of them out of the box at least. What about this one?” Steve taps the top of Eddie’s Aragorn.

“No,” he replies quickly.

“What about this one? It looks like Mike.”

Steve’s pointing to Frodo. Frodo. Freaking Frodo Baggins. Steve thinks Eddie should take his Frodo out of the box.

Mike?

“Wheeler?”

“Yeah, look at him.” He pulls the box from the shelf and holds it up in front of his face. “Hi Eddie. I’m an ungrateful asshole who stalks around constantly frowning.”

Eddie stares in amused wonder at Steve’s high squeaky imitation of their shared child. How does he have such a violent crush on this goofball?

Steve peeks around the box with a tiny smile, gauging Eddie’s reaction.

“How did I ever think you were cool?” He snatches the box from Steve’s hands and slides it back into its spot on the shelf.

“I’m cool,” he attempts suave and casual by leaning back against Eddie’s desk.

Eddie avoids running his eyes down Steve’s now raised chest, and keeps his gaze focused on the man’s smug face.

“You’re as much of a dork as the rest of us. Can’t deny it now, Harrington. I’ve seen too many dorky handshakes and heard you accurately reference Star Wars. One of us, one of us,” he jokingly chants.

Steve rolls his eyes and crosses his arms in a sigh. “No chance for escape now. I guess I’m stuck with you-you all, all of you.”

Eddie furrows his eyebrows with a cock of his head. Was that a flub? A misstep? A fumble or Freudian slip?

Hmmm.

“Yeah, you are.” Eddie takes a couple slow steps forward closing in on Steve’s space.

Steve doesn’t move, keeps his arms crossed and his eyes on Eddie’s stalking form.

“You’re fated, big boy. Destined to be surrounded by a bunch of geeks. One or two hot ones,” he playfully tosses his hair over his shoulder. “But a bunch of geeks nonetheless. So that makes you a geek by proximity.”

“I’ll be the second hot one,” Steve bites back a smile and ducks his chin down a little.

“Put us together and we’d be unstoppable.”

Eddie doesn’t know what he’s saying. He’s been flirting with Steve from day one and can’t stop himself now. Steve sets him up constantly and it’s not Eddie’s fault that he always takes the bait. So sue him if he leans into the game they’re always playing.

“There’s a thought,” Steve murmurs.

Eddie’s ears are immediately red because that is a thought. A thought Eddie has had a lot. A thought Eddie had this morning in fact.

“Us teaming up?” Eddie takes the last couple of steps to Steve’s position, sidling up to his right and brushing their shoulders together.

“Something like that,” Steve nudges Eddie with a secret kind of implication.

He can’t mean the same thing Eddie means, right? No. He’s saying something else.

“We’re already coparenting the gaggle of assholes. Us teaming up seems like an easy transition,” Eddie muses.

Teaming up, getting together, making out, fucking like rabbits. Whatever Steve wanted.

Steve doesn’t respond right away and the silence feels like a weighted pause. He tilts his head toward Eddie and lets his eyes dip. Out of nervous instinct, Eddie licks his lips and he actively sees Steve’s pupils widen.

Jesus.

Steve slowly pulls his bottom lip into his mouth, biting across the soft skin until it pops loose, leaving a perfect gap for Eddie to imagine sliding his tongue in between.

Eddie feels caught, trapped, stuck in place. He’s breathing heavier than necessary since they’re standing in place. No need to be huffing so hard at their stationary stances. It’s not like they’re working up a sweat.

But, oh god, they could.

“It-it really does doesn’t it?” Steve sounds a little breathy and it’s doing something to Eddie’s ego.

This doesn’t feel like play flirting.

No.

This feels like real flirting.

“What do you think, Stevie?” Eddie pointedly drops his eyes to Steve’s mouth before continuing. “Should we…? Get together? Take over the world?”

Steve nods silently, a little wobbly and loose, almost like his head is filled with space.

Then before he can make a sound, Steve is pinning Eddie against his desk. Their lips are smashed against each other in an uncoordinated effort of desperation.

And holy shit, does it feel good to be Eddie Munson.

Vecna could take him now and he’d be happy. Scratch that, Vecna can take him in about 35 minutes cause Steve is fumbling with Eddie’s belt.

[archieimagines]

touching din | din djarin

Summary: The three times that Din bends his own rules and engages in physical touch. 

his primary love languages are acts of service and physical touch. i will die on this hill. i started this one just to indulge in the thoughts of touching his lovely face. it’s been in the works for a while and although i know it’s far from perfect, i’m glad that it finally gets to see the light of day! warnings: bad language, potential incoherence? idk i’m very tired but i hope you like it tags: plenty of fluff, plenty of indulgent, sfw touching, and then a good handful of angst. rollercoaster central. this takes place over a period of time, so part of it comes after finding out grogu’s name, which is why he’s referred to as many things! word count: 4650 written by: archie support me on ko-fi!

The travelling between planets would’ve been excruciating if not for your life partner and your adoptive child. The three of you made rather an unorthodox family. A runaway from Corellia, a Mandalorian and a… a sweet ball of green. An unorthodox family, indeed, but loving.

The Child chirped and bubbled away on your lap, apparently having a conversation with you while you sat in the pilot seat. You listened attentively, made agreeing noises at all the right moments, the lights of hyperspace travel filling the cabin with slow flashes. He really was so cute. You’d tell him it often, and you’d tell him that Din thought so too, even if he’d never say it. That much was obvious.

It was in the way he carried him, the way he protected him. The occasional pat to his head, or the quiet rub to his long ears as he slept. He wasn’t the type to openly say it, but it was clear, and that was what counted.

The Child reached out to the knob atop the gearstick, fingers wiggling.

“Baby, no. We have to always ask Din about the ship, hm?” You bounced him gently on your knee in an effort to ease the sad coos- but there was no need. A gloved hand reached around you, exposed fingertips closing on the ball. It was unscrewed and placed into the waiting green hands, content whirs and chatters soon filling the air.

The warmth in your chest grew into a smile as you dropped your head back, peering up at the helmeted man that stood just out of sight. “That’s a yes, then?”

A nod. “That’s a yes.”

“I didn’t hear you come up.”

He nudged his head to the Child, voice soft, “You were having an important conversation.”

And then he did what you loved.

He reached a slow hand out and stroked it over the top of your head, coming to a gentle hold at the nape of your neck, and leaned in. Your eyes fell closed as the cool beskar met between your brows, and you didn’t need to see him to know his eyes were closed too.

A beskar kiss.

You heard a soft sigh through his voice modulator. This was the way his people would show love. He made no move to break away, even from the awkward angle at which he leant. He savoured the moment, breathed with you, his thumb running back and forth over your skin. You weren’t sure if he could feel the goosebumps that his touch rose every time, his fingertips slipping into the lower roots of your hair.

He loved to touch you, you could tell. It wasn’t easy, and these moments were few and far between with his action-packed lifestyle, but the tenderness of these touches clearly meant so much to him. To you.

Without disturbing the occupied bundle on your lap, you reached for Din’s other hand. It hung by his side until you took it in your own, slowly raising it to place your kiss on the knuckles of his fingers. You kept it there a while, backs of his fingers to your lips, his helmet pressed to your forehead. The warmth of those digits filled a void left by the cold beskar. The warmth of human touch.

Long moments slipped by as you absorbed it until you became self-conscious. He hadn’t pulled away, but you weren’t even sure how he’d felt about it with his covered expression, so you let out a resigned sigh and lowered his hand.

But he surprised you.

His fingers opened up instead, laying delicately on the side of your jaw, his similar hold on the back of your neck still in place.

His thumb reached out to meet the corner of your lips, before tentatively, almost shyly, brushing over the centre of them.

He wanted more.

You were only too happy to oblige, lips raising into a delicate peak, placing a tender kiss to the pad of his thumb. Soon, he shifted, placing his index finger there instead. Then his middle. Each of his fingers tapped to your lips, and you made sure to place your affection on the tip of each one, giving in to the urge to smile.

He loved this.

You heard the tinned sound of a sigh before his fingers slipped away once again, soon followed by his reluctant leaning away.

He stood tall above where you sat, visor staying fixed on you. He was just looking. Just peaceful. You shone an easy smile, somehow both cosy and breathless from the moment.

His helmet turned towards the green being on your lap.

He blinked up at Din, and soon, a confused coo filled the cabin.

Din shrugged one shoulder. “You’ll get it when you’re older.” And with that, he settled back into the passenger seat, arms crossing over his chest. “Rest up,” he called, presumably to the pair of you. “We’ll touch down for fuel in six hours.”

Din’s bunk was the epitome of comfort. Cramped, yes. Warm, yes. Especially with two bodies. It’d easily become stuffy in there with the panel sealed while the pair of you shared his thin mattress, and you’d always wondered how he managed to keep his helmet on even in that environment. Or perhaps… He couldn’t feel the stuffiness because of the beskar. Or maybe… He was just always stuffy in there, used to closed air.

Your eyes raised from where you’d had them closed, cheek pressed to the chest of his flight suit to mimic sleep. Early mornings after a long, well-deserved sleep often came like this, and there was something so soul-healing about laying there to absorb his calm, peaceful presence before getting up for what would likely be another day of action.

Watching his visor for long moments, working out if he was still sleeping or looking back at you- it had become somewhat of a hobby. Sometimes, you had convinced yourself, if you looked hard enough, you could see the slightest shape beneath the vision slot of his helmet.

You weren’t sure if they were really there. But, in the dim light of the bunk, you could swear the bridge of his nose casted a shadow that caused a darker shadow inside the mask. His lashes were dark and long, and they fluttered slowly as his eyes closed in steady blinks, looking back at you with such leisure.

But then… Had you made that up?

You squinted, straining your eyes until you were sure— yes, you’d made it up. He was still sleeping.

But it didn’t hurt to imagine he had long lashes and a strong nose, perhaps even a strong brow to match. It didn’t hurt to imagine you could see the faintest outlines of the man you love.

Sated, you turned your cheek back to his chest, eyes falling closed to mimic his slumber. Or at least—

“Morning.”

— What you thought was slumber. 

His voice was groggy in the modulator; that intimate morning voice. Deeper, softer than usual.

It brought a smile to your lips. “Morning, my love. You were awake?”

“I have been for a while.” His arm tightened snug around your body in his hold, half atop his. “I like to watch you wake up.”

A soft laugh. “Not creepy, hm?”

“Not even a little bit.”

Silence lapsed with his low tone. All was quiet. Not the whirring of the ship, not the sounds of the forest he’d landed the Crest in the clearing of. Only the delicate air of his breathing inside his mask, catching in the voice modulator so quietly that ordinarily, you wouldn’t be able to hear it.

The thought stirred a deep intimacy in your chest. No one else would get to hear this. No one else would get to lay with him like this, press against his armour-free body like this. You splayed a hand over the cloth of his chest, toes wiggling from an uncontainable contentment with how your leg rested over his. Not an ounce of beskar between the two of you.

But yet… 

Gentle fingertips trailed upwards, over his upper chest, swirling delicate patterns in the creases of his fabric. Your eyes remained closed, focusing everything on him, the warmth that met your touch when you worked past the collar of the flight suit, meeting the skin of his neck.

It wasn’t the first time you’d touched him so. Of course, after this long together, you’d been intimate many a time-- You were both human, after all... But the helmet had always stayed on.

Your fingertips splayed over his throat, and it vibrated with his low hum.

It was no secret by now. He loved to be touched.

You could just imagine him there beneath the visor, eyes closed, brow relaxed. His face caught in a long moment of calm where it was often riddled with worry, or effort from the fighting. Bringing him such serenity like this was the least you could do for him, showing him that he’s loved. So, so loved.

Slowly, your touch crept just a little further up, seeking his jaw. But as your knuckles knocked the edge of his helmet, a gentle hand closed around your wrist in warning. He didn’t need to speak.

Your voice was the softest murmur. “I won’t take it off. Can I just- Feel you?”

He didn’t move, not for a while. You raised your eyes, peering up at him from where you were nestled in his chest, as if you could possibly read his facial expressions.

His hold eased, thumb lazily rubbing over your veins before letting go, and you found a buzz of warmth in your chest. He trusted you with his most precious boundary. Silently, you vowed to always protect that trust.

Delicate fingers worked upwards, feeling for hair from his chin. But, a soft gasp- There was no beard. The gentle prickle of cropped hairs caught your fingerprints as they swiped along his jaw, and you marvelled at it.

“You shave?” The words came out with a soft, amused breath of disbelief, eyes rounded in surprise. For some reason, it’d always made sense that he’d be bearded, long-haired. He had no reason to shave, knowing that no one would ever see, but now that you knew, it clicked.

Of course he’d shave. Din was a particularly thorough person, he was always driving himself forward to do a perfect job of his work: of course he’d take care of himself too.

“If it grows too long, it’s uncomfortable. Catches in the modulator.”

“Ah,” you hummed, brushing along the ridge of his jaw in the confined space. There was something about feeling his jaw move as he spoke, verifying that he really was human, really did have goings-on behind the mask that shielded him from the world. There wasn’t much room in there to move freely, only your fingers able to reach his face, but it was comfortable. You could feel the soft sway of his breath on your touch. “What colour is it?”

“Black. Brown, black.”

You hummed, eyes fixed on his visor lazily, though you weren’t really looking at him. You were visualising as you studied the contours of his lower face, mapping him out as best as you could in your mind, nails brushing through the stubble on his cheek. They trailed towards the corner of his lips, where you noticed the strands got longer. A moustache?

The smile that lifted your face was automatic, beaming at the realisation. You followed the direction of it, above his upper lip, soon finding a little sparse patch on his philtrum. Your eyes drifted closed, imagining the way it might feel to kiss him now that you knew this; how his facial hair would scratch your upper lip, your chin. Perhaps it would be almost sore on your skin if you kissed him long enough, hot enough--

His lips raised to press a real kiss to the centre of your fingers. Slow, shy, even a little clumsy.

A rich gasp pulled from your throat. It was electric to feel his lips on your skin, pressing the affection directly onto you, after these long years of going without.

You let your fingertips lower, finally feeling the shape of his lips, that subtle cupid’s bow as it raised into yet another peck, slow and tender against your touch. Your brows drew together, fighting the emotion that welled up in you, trying to make you cry. You weren’t all too sure why-- this was just- so much. It was so much, to feel him like this, to receive his first kisses like this. Something you’d never even imagined you could have.

“Don’t cry,” he murmured against your fingertips, tone almost a caress. His own fingers raised to brush at the corner of your eye. One must’ve slipped out.

You didn’t even know he was looking at you. Your lashes fluttered open, gaze meeting where you imagined his eyes would be. “I can’t help it,” you whispered. “You’re perfect.”

He’d lied to you. He’d massively, irrevocably, intentionally lied to you.

Your jaw ached from your grit teeth as you fought back angry fires in your heart, determined not to cry until you’d pulled your family safely off this forsaken, evil planet.

Din had been tasked with a mission of political undertones involving the spice market. He was masking as a bounty hunter to get information, so this time, the importance was in keeping the right people alive.

Of course, it didn’t work, and those people were now trying to kill you.

Your fingers trembled as you fought against the clock and the jolts of blasters firing at the ship to strap Grogu into his passenger seat. Your eyes were bleary, but you had to focus, secure him in safely. You wouldn’t take anyone’s safety for granted after this stupid stunt.

“Get her in the sky!” Din shouted up through the hatch, pushing his voice so loudly against the fighting and blasters below that it almost outgrew the modulator, his real voice peeking through. 

Grogu’s sweet eyes peered up at you, giving a questioning gurgle. The poor thing had no idea what was going on, was probably terrified by it all, and even your demeanour on top of it, but you didn’t have time to explain.

“We need to go!”

You buckled the baby in tightly and fought your emotions to ruffle a quick hand atop his head, hoping to soothe him even a small degree before falling into the pilot’s seat, specifically buckling yourself in, and jamming the engine on with jerky movements. 

The Crest resisted you, far too old and rickety by now to be good for quick getaways with a cold engine, but with some slow drags, turbulence from knocking through trees and extra laser blasts from below, she was finally in the air.

You heard the distinctive sound of fighting downstairs, someone being kicked off the ramp at an easy 400 feet altitude, and then the mechanical sound of the ship being closed off again. 

The ladder creaked with Din’s climbing, and you didn’t look back to him as he collapsed into the other passenger seat, not ready to talk to him yet. You were still seething, and wouldn’t engage with him until you’d pulled up safely out of the planet’s atmosphere.

Long moments of quiet dragged by. He knew you by now. He didn’t need to see more than the square set of your shoulders to know that he shouldn’t speak yet unless he wanted to upset you more. That, and you still didn’t look at him even as the minutes neared a full hour, focused on getting to the nearest hyperspace route.

He glanced to Grogu, who sat there blinking, clueless as he could be. He must’ve known something was going on, even if he didn’t know what exactly Din had done.

Din reached a gloved hand out, petting lightly on the green boy’s head. He still didn’t speak.

Eventually, your frustrated fires ebbed into a more containable state, you shifted the Crest into light speed, and unbuckled your belt with a heaved sigh. “Downstairs, Din.”

You stood, instructed Grogu not to touch a thing, headed down the hatch, and pointedly avoided looking at Din the whole time.

The body of the ship was chaos. Lazed burns in everything the three of you owned, strewn across the floor and torn from the struggle. Clearly, he’d really had to put up a fight. 

It was his own fault.

Boot on metal as he stepped onto the floor beside you. You finally looked at him.

You didn’t need to see his face to know he was exhausted. It was in the way he held himself, the way his arms just hung there by his sides, strong shoulders visibly slouched to the trained eye.

You reeled on him. “Why didn’t you let me in on it?”

Silence.

“Less of that, Din. Speak to me, I need to understand.”

There was a pause before his voice came. Firm, but gentle, as if pointedly trying to keep the peace. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Then make me understand.” You pulled an upturned crate closer and planted yourself on it, trying to keep the buzz in your veins under control, but your tone was clipped nonetheless as you gestured to a crate nearby. “Go ahead, let’s hear it.”

He sighed and tugged the crate over, perched on the corner of it opposite you. His knees were parted and elbows on his thighs, hands clasped together as he thought through his facts. The best way to make you see that he’d done the right thing.

“I couldn’t tell you my true location because if you knew, your presence would have soiled the plan.”

“So you’re telling me I’m a hindrance.”

“No.”

“That’s certainly what it sounds like-”

“It needed full discretion to work. I’d told them-”

“I can keep fucking secrets, Din.”

“I know you can.”

“So you lied? Told me you were on the other side of town? How was I supposed to get to you if something went wrong?”

He sighed, his head dropping forwards in exasperation. “I told you to stay on the ship.”

“That’s not always possible. You know it’s not! Hunters still have fobs fixed onto Grogu, Din, there’s no escaping that!”

“I couldn’t have you interrupting or we’d all be dead. I’d told them I was alone- no, look at me.”

Your jaw was aching from how you grit your teeth as you forced yourself to look up at that visor, the weight of frustrated tears brimming at your waterline. You gave a small nod.

“Listen,” he started. “I’d told them I came alone. If you’d known my location, you would have interrupted.”

“To save your skin? Yeah, I would.”

“Exactly. We’d both be dead, and the hunters would take the kid.”

“You think I can take care of him without you? We don’t stand a chance without you around, Din.”

He paused. Quiet lapsed, and you had no idea what he was thinking. Sometimes, he really gave nothing away, and it was infuriating. He didn’t let you in. He would rarely open up to you about what was going on inside that beskar that hid everything from you. Everything.

Sometimes, you were sure you didn’t even know the man you were committed to. He held so much of the power in this setup. He knew everything about you, everything was done by his thinking, and yet he didn’t need to disclose much at all. He’d keep you in the dark about everything.

What he was feeling, what he was thinking… Hell, even when he smiled at you he kept it to himself. You’d grown to handle those, but this, actively lying to you. As if you couldn’t follow instructions. As if you couldn’t be trusted.

You sighed as the drops in your eyes welled up enough to fall over your cheeks. You pulled yourself off the crate and approached the ladder to the cabin, calling over your shoulder. “Go clean up or something,” you sniffled, “I need a minute away from you.”

The clang of footsteps behind you, a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Hey. Look at me.”

“I can’t, Din.”

“Why not?”

Such a simple question, such an impossible answer. You closed your eyes, struggling to pick out words that might illustrate what’s going on inside. The ache that sank your chest, that made your throat feel heavy with uncried frustrations. None of this was okay. Perhaps after you’d cooled down, you’d be able to see that mask as anything other than a barrier between you, that keeps him safe from your eyes. But for now, you couldn’t bare it. You scrambled to express it, but all you could let out was a strained “It hurts.”

Another moment of silence. Then, carefully, “What hurts?”

Clearly, he didn’t mean for his words to bring on the tidal wave of emotions and thoughts that you’d been keeping at bay.

“This, Din. All of this! Living in a ship, wondering if I’m gonna make it back in every time I step out of it, and not even being in on missions that risk your life! It’s like you’re cut off from me. Like we just live in the same space and I’m just there to entertain you. But it’s- it’s-!” You heaved a sigh, head buzzing with the force of the thoughts that were spilling out. They were so honest and raw from brewing for far too long. They must’ve been sharp as they came out, they must’ve hit him like a ton of bricks.

But of course, that damned beskar hid everything.

“It’s hard to be with a man who doesn’t trust me.”

For once, his voice rose. “I trust you more than anyone in the gal-!”

“You almost died because you didn’t trust me enough to let me in! You’d rather die than trust me!”

“That’s not how I-”

“That’s what your actions are telling me, Din. They always do. You never tell me what you’re thinking. I have to guess, but I can’t even read your fucking face. I live my life in question marks because you don’t even give me the option to-”

“You know I can’t show you my face.”

A deep breath left you, shaky and tired. So much pressure had alleviated in your head, like you’d finally emptied the contents of your mind onto a platter before him. And now that you could see it too, heard what you’d said, you felt almost ashamed for it.

Criticising the beskar was too far. That was his way of life, and had nothing to do with how he felt towards you. For sure, it was frustrating sometimes for you didn’t even know what your life partner looked like, but his culture was part of him. And you loved him.

“I know. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-- What are you doing?”

He reached by you to snatch some fabric from a nook, and he folded it into a long strip without so much as a word.

“I’m- I’m trying to apologise-”

“You don’t have to. How can you trust a man you can’t see, right? We’ve been together so long, and you still don’t know who I am.”

You were stunned beneath the guilt that crashed over you. He took your words in so deeply, and fed them back to you plainly. You could see how you must’ve hurt him, with sentiments like this.

Your eyes welled with tears again. Whatever had come over you had clearly wanted to hurt him, but that wasn’t you. Your thoughts were too chaotic to pinpoint, swarmed with hurt and pain that was only now built on by the fact that you’d treated him so terribly. You’d sworn to him long ago that you accepted his Mandalorian binds, loved them even, but you’d let them get in the way with one incident.

“Don’t cry,” he spoke, modulated voice gentle. “I’m- I’m understanding you.” A calloused thumb brushed along your outer lashes to pause any tears that wanted to fall. “Let me help.”

And there was darkness.

He tied his makeshift blindfold behind your head in a loose knot, keeping your eyes in darkness. “Din? What is this?”

He kept quiet, and you heard shifting, something being placed aside.

“Why do you never-”

You cut yourself off when his hands took your wrists and lifted them gently, until your palms splayed on his stubbled cheeks. He gave a long sigh, and you imagined he’d closed his eyes.

Your heart jolted. He was here before you, bare, no helmet. When he spoke, his voice rang out clear and pure, the true timbre of his voice without modulation.

“I said, I trust you more than anyone in the galaxy.” His face moved with his words beneath your touch. “I’d move planets for you.”

He left you breathless. You dove at the chance, fingers tracing over his cheekbones, the bridge of his nose. It stood high and strong, just like you’d always imagined.

“This… This isn’t risky? I didn’t mean to offen-”

“You didn’t offend me. I know it’s hard, I feel it too.” He guided your hands to his lips, and he placed gentle kisses to your fingers.

The lump in your throat welled up again, your nose stinging from the tears that you tried to hold back. The thought of him struggling with his culture simply because he wanted to be close to you. “You do?”

“You know how many times I wanted to take it off? This seems… This is the best way. I’m not breaking any rules.”

You gave a watery, sniffly laugh. “This is the way?”

A hum of humour. “This is the way.”

You let your touch wander over his face, mapping it as well as you could. The curve of his eyelids, the strength of his browbone. He breathed softly, and you could feel the air on your palms as it pushed through.

You wove your fingertips into his hairline, pushing his locks back and bunching them up in your grasp behind his head. It was surprisingly long with unruly waves, and so, so soft.

He leaned in with a sigh until his forehead met yours, hands falling to their home on your waist.

And before you knew it, his lips were on yours. His warm, sweet lips fit perfectly against yours, and your head spun. It was so much, feeling him so close after nearly losing him, arguing with him, and your first kiss in the long years of being his. The first actual kiss.

He was unsure and clumsy in his affection, a little hesitant.

Clearly, this was his first one ever.

You let a hand trail to his jaw, guiding with a gentle touch. He soon settled in, became more confident in his kiss, even if it was still clumsy.

And it was perfect. The determined nibbles to your lips, the soft scratch of his moustache on your upper lip, the way he tugged you closer even as you were pressed against the ladder.

When it finally slowed to a stop, he murmured softly, so much closer than he’d ever been. The sound reached deep inside your mind to soothe your soul and make you crave more of his kiss. “I won’t ever treat you like that again. I’ll give you full disclosure of my missions, every single one. Alright?”

“Alright,” you agreed, breathless and flustered, “On one condition.”

“Hm?” He was clearly lost in this touch, so starved for so long, and it showed in his voice. He was utterly entranced with this new feeling, someone else’s fingers on his skin, words the last thing on his mind.

“We do this more often.”

A low laugh rumbled in his chest, nose nudging on the tip of yours. “Deal.”

[star-sim]

say it back! ☆ jay park

☆ non-idol! bf! jay x fem! reader ☆ summary: jay thinks you're really cute, especially when you're mad. ☆ genre: fluff!! implied college! au / young adult! au , super domestic and cutesy ☆ warning(s)? nope! ☆ word count: 1.1k ☆ after supermassive blackhole i realized just how many jay stans followed me, so eat up guys 😛

It was a Friday evening. The sun was beginning to set, casting a vibrant peach-orange glow over Jay’s apartment.

With a navy-blue apron hanging loosely from his neck, Jay took in the scent of garlic chives and caramelized onions marinating in the pan. With a spatula, he popped in a lump of gochujang, stirring in the hot, red paste.

If Jay had to be honest, he spent most of his time just touching you, his girlfriend. Not in a sexual way. Any physical touch with you was more than enough. Whether it be cuddling on the couch or you clinging onto him while he did things, the intimacy of having skin-on-skin contact was everything.

On days like this, Jay was the one cooking dinner. Not-so-surprising, you were an absolute mess in the kitchen, so he took on that responsibility. You should be home soon. You had taken up an internship a weeks ago, so you had to stay just a tad later than usual.

As Jay immersed himself in the gorgeous aromas of his craft, he thought of what he should do with you later.

He could watch a movie with you, but knowing you, you would probably be all over him. He never expected you to be the clingy, needy type, doing whatever you could to snuggle up against his warm body. Jay’s lips parted before spreading into a gummy grin. He could imagine your voice:

“Baaabe,” you would whine, plopping yourself in between his legs. You would tangle your arms with his, or maybe you'd place his hands in your hair and make him play with it.

If his eyes were glued to the TV for long enough, you would pout, before peppering soft kisses against his neck. Jay would pretend to ignore you, making you whine again. 

“Give me attention,” you would murmur against his ear. 

Oh man, Jay felt giddy and warm inside just thinking about it. 

What he wouldn’t do just to have you come home already—

The door clicked open.

“I’m home!”

Speak of the devil and you will appear.

Jay heard a few footsteps and a giggle before feeling arms slither around his torso. 

“Hi,” you mumbled against his back. 

Jay grinned. “Hi, Angel.”

You peeked over his shoulder, taking in the scent of his cooking. “Smells good.”

“Go wash up, baby,” Jay said. “I’m almost done.”

“Okayyy,” you squeezed his waist. You gave Jay a small peck on the cheek. You drawled, “I love youuuu!”

Jay hummed. 

He heard you huff. 

“I love you,” you repeated.

“Mhm.”

There’s a pulse of silence before you pulled away, leaving him alone.

When you left, he couldn’t help but smile so stupidly. 

You were going to drive him crazy. 

You were so cute, and adorable, and pretty, and beautiful, and gorgeous, and precious, and everything that he loved. He wanted to hold you in his arms forever and kiss you forever and be with you forever and-

How many kids should you and him have? He’d always wanted two boys and a girl, but he wouldn’t mind having more. Later down the line, when you and him got older, he’d buy you a pretty diamond ring— in fact, he’d buy you everything that you’ve ever wanted. And then you and him will get married and buy a house. Would you take his last name? [Name] Park didn’t sound too bad. People would call you Mrs. Park, and instead of calling you by your first name, Jay would refer to you as “my wife,” and—

He was feeling dizzy just thinking about it. Was he getting ahead of himself?

“Are you mad at me?” your voice suddenly said.

Jay jumped. He whipped his head around to see you with your arms crossed and a big, sulky frown.

Were you standing there the whole time?

“B-Babe, I thought you went to the bathroom…”

You shook your head. 

“Are you mad at me?” you repeated. Taking a few steps forward, you turned him around, pressing him up against the kitchen counter while holding his hands together.

“Wait, what?” Jay’s brows knitted together. “Baby, where is this coming from?”

“You…” you began, averting your gaze. “You didn’t say it back.”

Jay cocked his head. “Say what back?”

You huffed. “I said I love you, and you didn’t say it back.”

You tilted your head so that he couldn’t see your pouty face, playing with his fingers. You murmured something under your breath, something that he couldn’t quite hear.

Jay stared at you for a few seconds, processing everything. And then, he threw his head back, loud bouts of laughter emitting from his lips. Every time that he would calm down and look at you, your sulky face would make him burst back into his fit of giggles.

“It’s not funny!” you slapped his shoulder, your cheeks heating up with embarrassment. When he wouldn’t stop laughing, you turned away, punching him on the arm, “You’re a jerk, Jay.”

At that, Jay immediately stopped laughing.

“Wait, I’m sorry!” Jay clasped your hands in his, pulling you close to him so that you were flushed against his chest. 

You frowned. 

“It's too late to apologize,” you mumbled.

Jay almost chuckled at your grumpiness, but stopped himself before you’d be even more upset with him.

You stayed like that for a few moments: Jay holding you close against the kitchen counter, fingers loosely intertwined.

Finally, Jay poked your cheek.

“Hey!”

“Don’t be mad at me, Angel.”

Your frown deepened.

Jay sighed.

Bringing a large hand up, he gently grabbed your face, bringing it closer.

“What are you-”

Jay began littering chaste kisses all across your face– he started at your cheek, moved up to your forehead, down your nose, to your other cheek, and lastly to your chin, where he teased you by kissing just close enough to your lips. He exaggerated by making loud kissy noises to further rile you up.

“Stoooooppp,” you whined, but made no attempt to resist him.

Jay let out a low chuckle. He cupped your cheeks. He ghosted his lips over yours, reveling in the way that you automatically closed your eyes and wet your lips in anticipation. He contemplated whether or not he should pull away to tease you, but decided against it. 

Who was he to deny you?

When your lips met, you let out an excited squeal, squeezing his bicep. When you guys pulled away, Jay breathed against your lips, “I love you.”

“Baby...” you mewled, sliding your hands up his chest to hook around his neck.

“I love you,” he repeated himself, leaning in to give your lips a peck. “I love you so fucking much.”

You giggled softly, your breath brushing against his cheek. “I love you, too.”

[graymanshoots]

I love you.

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Gn Reader

Tags: Reference to sex, angst no comfort, friends with benefits, no gender & appearance specifics, ghost not wanting to acknowledge that he actually has feelings and hurting reader

Part: 2-3

A/n: I couldn’t wait for the poll to end but I was going to post it regardless if I’m being honest 🙃

Lying in bed, you revel in the sweaty exhaustion you worked yourself into.

At your side your long time friend Simon laid eyes drawn to the popcorn ceiling of your bedroom that you both hated so much. His face was partially illuminated by your dim bedside lamp, dirty blonde hair visible and matted to his forehead with sweat.

You stare at Simon, admiring his features that seem all the more beautiful with the dazed expression he holds.

His nose is crooked from being broken more than once, his lips pink and pouty—something you teased him about on multiple occasions, comparing him to Princess Peach sometimes. Jagged scars cut across his face, which you find more endearing than distasteful.

You've known Simon since he joined the forces, and it's common for him to seek out your bed for comfort, shedding the heavy weight the military pushes on his shoulders. No matter how many times you two remind yourselves that it's just sex, you can't help but want him for more.

You couldn't help it when he helped you move into your new apartment, or when he comforted you after a tough mission, or when he kissed you during New Year's, spending the rest of the night in his arms. Simon is anything but just sex to you. He's your friend, a close one, and he's your lover, though he’d never acknowledge or say that for himself.

He treats you with the same yearning and longing that you feel inside with soft touches and promises that you know he never means.

He’d never burden you with the ghost of himself; Simon is the only name that he lets you call him.

Your hazy thoughts are whisked away when you feel an arm wrap around your waist, Simon pulling you to his chest, his pretty brown eyes staring down at you.

Locking eyes with him, you instinctively bring your hand up, resting it on the marred skin of his cheek, your thumb running over the rough scar tissue.

Your lips part like you want to say something, but your words die on your tongue when Simon initiates a kiss with you. His chapped lips press against yours gently, and his fingers press so deeply into your skin you feel as if he will melt into you.

You both hate and understand how you could fall so deeply for this man.

Is this what it feels like to have your heart bound so closely with another that they beat in sync? So deep in an ocean of a man who has but a stick to float on himself. A man whose back is burdened with the sins of his own and the many who followed. A man who would never acknowledge the heaviness in his chest when you were apart.

“What's on your mind, love?” He asks, pulling away, his hand coming up to smooch out the wrinkle between your brow before moving back down to your waist.

So many answers could have left your mouth that weren't the ones that did, and Simon would have stayed there and kissed your forehead before falling asleep in your arms.

But that's not what happened, and fear that it'd never have the chance to happen bubbled in your stomach when you saw Simon's eyes widen.

“I love you.”

Simon's face twisted into an unrecognizable expression as he sat up from the bed, letting your hand fall from him. His arm moved from around your waist quickly, as if it burned to touch you. He sat on the edge of the bed wordlessly with his back to you, reaching to the bedside table, grabbing his mask, slipping it on swiftly.

You hadn’t meant to say that. The thoughts you locked so closely to yourself bled out in your blissful stupor. Nausea simmers in your stomach as your chest begins to ache with waves of rejection.

Ghost stood from the bed, tension visible in the muscles of his naked body. He wasted no time dressing himself, not even bothering to look at you. You couldn't find anything to say to him, having no explanation for your words, no excuse that you were just in the heat of the moment, the sex long over.

What could you say to him?

Your eyes stung with unshed tears as the door to your bedroom shut, and soon the sound of your apartment door followed.

Was this your fault, or was it his for giving you an ocean when you’d originally been in a lake?

Was this your fault, or was this his fault for molding his fingerprints into the clay of your skin?

Was this your fault or was this his for filling you with a false sense of security when he told you that he’d be safe.

A week fades and you haven't heard anything from Ghost, he made himself scarce on base and couldn't even stand to be in the same room as you.

You didn't blame him; this was your fault. The line that you two had continued to blur more and more over the years had finally been crossed.

Fighting Ghost's choice to abandon him would only make the rift wider, so you had no choice but to accept it.

These are the consequences of loving a man who carried a mock heart in his chest.

______

Feel free to comment and reblog! Requests are welcome 🙏

Tag list:

@skulfan1 @thychuvaluswife (idk if you get the notif I don’t think you have tags on)

[coralinnii]

❋ If you’re a villain, then let me be your accomplice ❋

↳Reincarnated into a new world as the bad guy part 2

feat: Rook

genre: drama, slow burn romance, smitten fools,

note: sequel to reincarnated into a new world as the bad guy Rook ver., historical fantasy setting, sculptor!reader, reader is referred to as “Ma artiste” and “Mon amour” by Rook, no pronouns used with the reader, mentions of beast hunting, 1.8k word count

While it refers to fictional beasts, this touches the controversial topic on hunting which can be sensitive to people. I’m not trying to claim that my own opinions or the opinions in this fic are right and you can have a stance against these opinions. Despite the controversy, I still decided to add this into the story because this world is supposed to mirror the era when this was practiced by people of the time and with Rook as a canonical huntsman, this fits the story well.

I choose to be transparent that this topic will be in this fic and if you are uncomfortable, you are free to ignore this story because I would rather you decide your comfort levels than have people read my story.

Random note: when my laptop died, all my banners are gone so yea…I changed my character banners again

series masterlist

To your dismay, you found yourself facing the consequences for the actions of an obsessive character that convinced the famous knight Rook Hunt to be your fiancé.

Begging the Hunt family, you managed to settle a deal to repay the dowry the Hunt family paid to annul the engagement, since losing this engagement would cost their side more than yours.

Thankfully, the era of this world was the rising age of artistic revolution and the aristocracy was itching to find the newest trend of beauty and creative innovation, which you enthusiastically took as an opportunity to build your name in the field of art as a sculptor, starting off with simple desk ornaments to breathtaking statues.

Perhaps it was your silver lining that your still fiance Rook was a well-known admirer of all things beautiful as with his keen eyes, your sculptures stood out among others due to the added details of your subjects that your fiance pointed out as you work. You were confident in your skills but you owe it to Rook for enhancing the realism in your sculptures.

Initially, guilt ate away at your conscience for not only the forceful engagement you placed upon the knight (even if you weren’t directly responsible) but for also taking his help with your commissions without any benefits to himself. But the green-eyed man did not ever allow you to dwell in such thoughts.

“Non, ma artiste! Your works of art are the fruits of your passion and hard work that cannot be replicated. I may have given some notes here and there but the beauty of each masterpiece you created can only be brought out from your skillful hands.”

Rook smiled as he held your hands, still dirtied with bits of dried clay. The gaze of his bright green makes you feel somewhat self-conscious. You were a noble but you must have ruined the softness of your skin due to your long hours of work and stress. You tried to pull your hands back in embarrassment but your fiance held them firmly in his own gloved pair.

“Every scar, blemish, and crack is a show of your strength, mon amour. I could get lost tracing the lovely lines of your hands if you allow me.”

No matter how many others have praised you or your work, you couldn’t help the unique warmth in your heart that only appears when Rook sings them. But you chalk it up to your body reacting from old feelings held by the original character. It must be, right?

Your commissions have thankfully slowed down enough to give you a well needed break. You were curious to what might taking up the attention of the nobility right now which was how you learned about the bi-annual “Hunt of the Beasts” event.

You were initially terrified to learn the existence of magical beasts in this world and the danger that resides in the dense forests and mountainous lands that borders the kingdom. In order to maintain the beast population for the safety of the people and resources, the imperial family hosts an extravagant event for the knights and local mercenaries in the kingdom to vanquish the beasts. Some may call it barbaric or cruel, but for the safety of the villages and farms that reside near these beasts’ territories, it was an unfortunate necessity that is at least maintained by the imperial family to avoid excessive hunting that disrupts the delicate balance of the population.

Rook was a frequent participant of the hunt and of course he was going to be a participant. Typically, partners of the participants would attend the event as spectators waiting by the designated zones among other visitors. However, you were too new to this world and this will be the first hunt for you where you will surely come across images you weren’t sure you were prepared for.

Giant beasts…even thinking of their corpses. It’s too overwhelming.

You expressed your discomfort with Rook and despite his experience as a seasoned participant, offered words of understanding to you. The knight suggested that you could sit out from the event and he could explain to any curious busybody that you were not feeling well.

Once again, Rook warmed your heart with his words but there was some guilt still left behind within you. Despite the loveless engagement, Rook has wholeheartedly supported you in your passion and your work despite his own inexperience in the field, but you couldn’t bring yourself to accept something that he as a knight and huntsman took pride in. You allowed your fear win over and it left a bitter feeling in your heart.

The day has finally arrived and the dense forest that bordered the kingdom was busy with attendees of all status. Many have come to join to spectate and support the brave men and women who have trained to battle the dangerous beasts that lurk within the land that was darkened by wild greenery. Aides from the imperial palace watched over the event as participants were informed of the rules of the hunts; what to expect, what to capture, and what to avoid lest they choose to face punishment.

Rook surveyed his surroundings as he finished his last preparations. He saw both familiar faces and newcomers that hope to make a name for themselves today. Tents were filled with important families and even visiting guests from nearby lands either to observe or participate themselves. But he doesn’t see a glimpse of your figure.

Not that he expected it. He respected your choice not to attend the event. It could be that he has become too desensitized by the presence of beasts and monsters due to his work that he has forgotten how frightening it could be for a civilian to witness them in person.

Maybe during his hunt, he could find some wild flowers to bring back to you when he visits you later. Would you feel better if he did? You had such a conflicted expression on your face last he saw you so maybe a bouquet of rare flowers could brighten your mood, even bring you some inspiration for your art. Would you feel grateful, perhaps even smile for him as you call his name in appreciation…

“Rook.”

Ah, he could even hear you right now.

“Rook?”

A rare occurance, Rook was actually spooked to suddenly feel your presence behind him. The blonde knight did not sense you standing there, with him…at the Hunt of the Beasts.

“Mon amour, you surprised me!” His green eyes almost couldn’t believe it. “I thought you’d chose not to attend this year.”

To be fair, you’re surprised yourself. The whole idea of this event still feels unreal to you and your fear of witnessing something you’re not mentally ready for is still there. Even so…

“I want to support you, like you always have with me” you whispered shyly but Rook could clearly hear your voice at this distance. He then saw in your hands a small woven charm bracelet, a common blessing given to participants like him.

During the Hunt of the Beasts, traditions came about among the participants and non-participants. Those who participated in the hunt would offer their game as an offering to their lover as a show of devotion and strength to protect them from harm. In addition, non-participants could give a blessed items to the participant of their choice as a show of admiration or to wish them safety during the hunt.

You noticed the knight’s gaze and you felt more nervous than before. As this was your first attendance, this was also the first time offering a blessing to someone. When you told your servant you were going to the hunting event, he graciously gave you a woven bracelet and suggested that you offer it to your “lover”, much to your embarrassment.

But then you noticed the knight more closely and saw that he already had a number of bracelets and ribbons peeking out from his left arm sleeve. You supposed despite his eccentricity, Rook was still a very talented knight and quite attractive to people of all social status. Even if he was technically a taken man, this did not stop admirers from showing favour towards him with blessed charms and ribbons.

Mortified, you tried to hide the small bracelet as you put on a smile. “Since it was tradition, I thought I should bring you something but I should have guessed that you would have plenty of blessings from others. Adding more would probably be burdensome-“

You flinched slightly when you felt your hands being captured by another pair. You saw Rook’s gloved hands stopping your own but he had such an unreadable look in his eyes that you couldn’t tell what was on his mind.

“Rook?” The call of his name seemed to have woken him from his trance as Rook quickly gave you a smile before he spoke.

“Mon amour, I would be honoured to receive your blessing.” Releasing his grip on you, Rook removed the glove on his right hand where unlike his counterpart hand, was empty. “Would you please place it upon me?”

Nodding your head, you gently wrapped the woven bracelet around Rook’s wrist, careful not to tighten the knot too much since this was Rook’s dominant hand. You tried not to think too much about how he allowed your blessing and only yours on his right hand and not with the rest on his non-dominant hand.

“It doesn’t mean anything.” you tried to focus on something else and rested your eyes on Rook’s hand. It was not often you see it as the blonde-haired man tends to wear gloves as part of his uniform but you could see the rough calluses and scars littered about his fingers and palm. The skin of his hand was smoother than you expected (probably due to his friendship with the Schoenheit heir) but you can tell how hard Rook must have trained to be as skilled as he was today. How diligent this man is which earned the respect of many. While caressing his warm hand, you absentmindedly echoed the words he once spoke to you.

“Every scar, blemish, and crack is a show of your strength…How beautiful.”

Realizing what you just said aloud, you quickly let go of Rook’s hand before rushing to create distance between the two of you (when did you get so close to begin with?!).

“There, all done!” you did your best to hide your embarrassment with a smile. “I’ll be in one of the tents until the hunt is over. I wish you luck!”

With a quick bow, you rushed into a tent that was open, too flustered to look back and face your fiance.

A shame, really. Because you missed the opportunity to see a rare image of Rook with a rosy shade blooming across his cheeks and ears.

[natalievoncatte]

This was it, the moment of truth. The plan was going flawlessly, and in a few minutes, Lena would have what she needed to complete and launch Non Nocere. She was about to save the world.

(You mean your master plan, Lex’s voice snickered in her head)

Lena shook it away, as she had so many times already. When Kara glanced at her, Lena played it off as the cold. She was, after all, standing outside in the actual Arctic, brutally aware of how underdressed she was even in a heavy woolen coat and doubled up leggings.

Even here at the roof of the world, Kara was gorgeous. The sunlight glared off the ice and yet it only seemed to make her more radiant, her sun kissed skin practically glowing, blue eyes the color of the sea darkened by a distant storm.

“I’ll never understand why your cousin built this place here,” said Lena.

“He didn’t. There was an ancient Kryptonian outpost here from long, long ago, when my people were more expansionist. They abandoned any plans to colonize other solar systems thousands of years ago.”

Lena looked at her, damning her own curiosity. Kara, for her part, looked far away.

“Why?” said Lena.

“They decided they’d done enough damage to their own world.”

Lena blinked. Turning away, Kara inserted the key into the locking mechanism and unleashed a series of heavy grinding sounds as the doors parted.

Within, it was warmer.

(At last I walk these hallowed halls, a conquerer)

Not by much, though.

Lena drew in a breath and looked around, allowing herself a moment of unrepentant awe. The ceiling arched high overhead where the crystalline walls joined to form a peak, giving the Fortress of Solitude the air of a great cathedral. This gave a reference to the statue of a handsome man and beautiful woman, pressed side by side with joined hands and expressions of fear and hope as they gazed off into some distant star.

“That’s Jor-El and Lara, my aunt and uncle.”

Superman’s parents, Lena thought.

“Don’t your family have statues?”

“Kal-El created the memorial,” said Kara. “He didn’t know about my family until I told him.”

Lena huffed.

“I have a hologram of my mother,” said Kara. “It’s really just a computer interface. She doesn’t… I remember them in my own way.”

Kara cleared her throat, and Lena saw tears welling up in her eyes. A twist of pain turned in her stomach and her hand fell on Kara’s shoulder.

(That’s it. Play to her emotions. Use them like she used yours.)

“I hate this place,” Kara whispered.

Lena pulled her hand back.

“Why?”

“I thought I’d be excited to show you. There’s just so much I’ve always wanted to share, but this place is a tomb. When I’m in here, it’s like home, but not. It’s just a reminder of everything I’ve lost, and it makes me feel sick how much I want to go back.”

“Of course you want to go back,” said Lena. “It was your home.”

Kara let out a low, shuddering breath.

“It was, but it’s not anymore. I’ve lived on Earth now longer than I did on Krypton.”

She was looking up at the statues, or past them, perhaps. Lena couldn’t help but study her profile, the curve of her jaw and the soft lines of her face. How could someone who could crush coal into diamonds with her hands and kill with a glance be so angelic?

(Such an innocent face to hide such betrayal)

Lena swallowed, trying to still herself and tamp down the sympathy she felt.

“I envy him.”

“Who?”

“Superman. My cousin. He’s so lucky. He only gets the good part, the blessing from my uncle and the special heritage. For him, this place is joyful. It’s the answer to all his questions and full of strange wonders and joys. He tries to mourn them but how can he mourn something he’s never known?”

“I’m sure it must be sad for him, wondering what they were like.”

“He never knew them to disappoint him, either. It want his father that created Medusa. Sometimes I just wish I could forget it all. This place reminds me I don’t really have a home.”

Lena turned to her sharply.

Kara sighed. “My home is still out there. Argo, I mean. It’s basically a new Krypton. I could go if I wanted. Kal is there with…” she trailed off.

“Lois,” Lena added. “I pieced it together pretty quickly after you told me your identity. He’s Clark Kent, isn’t he?”

“You’ve always been too smart,” said Kara, and she sounded so genuine, so admiring, that it made Lena briefly wish she didn’t have to do this. That it had been real.

“I can’t go back there. I can’t be part of that society anymore, where people don’t get any choices in what they do, or…” Kara looked directly at Lena, dragging out the pause a beat too long. “Who they love.”

“What do you mean?”

“On Krypton, we had what I guess you’d call arranged marriages.”

“So you’d never have been able to be with Mon-El.”

“I wouldn’t have been allowed to choose him, no,” said Kara, “though thinking back, really thinking about it, I don’t think I would have in the end.”

Lena looked at Kara, who still stared up.

“Why?”

“We were only together because…” she let out a long sigh. “Because I don’t have a home anymore, not really. I can’t go back to my own people and I don’t belong here.”

“Of course you have a home, Kara,” said Lena, lightly touching Kara’s arm.

“You’d don’t know what it’s like,” said Kara, choking back a small sob. “No matter what path I take I have to kill part of myself. I can’t be Kryptonian and human, no matter how hard I try. The Kryptonian side keeps taking things away from me. I can never be my whole self with someone.”

Lena swallowed.

“Just look what it did to us,” said Kara, turning to Lena. “I almost lost you because of it, because of the lies I let myself tell.”

“Kara,” Lena lied, “I’ve forgiven you. We don’t have to re-litigate this.”

“Maybe you have, but I’ve never apologized to you properly. I’ve just been trying to smooth it over and fill in the cracks and I know how hard you’ve tried but it’s not enough for me to just let you do all the work.”

“Kara…”

“I was such an asshole,” Kara said, and Lena blinked. In any other circumstances, she’d have made a joke and chided Kara for her unusual profanity.

“I mean about the Kryptonite, but about other things, too. I shouldn’t have treated you one way while I was in the suit and another way when I wasn’t.”

“I’m still not sure which one was real,” Lena blurted.

(No! No, what are you doing? You have to make her think all is forgiven so she’ll take you to the armory!)

“They both were,” said Kara. “I was angry about the Kryptonite, and I was scared. I admit it, Lena. As much as I trusted you then and I trust you now, I didn’t know what to think. My best friend was making a poison that only hurts me.”

“I didn’t know it was you,” said Lena. “If I’d known…”

Kara swallowed.

“I know.”

“If I’d known, I would have come to you about Sam. I would have come to you about a lot of things, Kara.”

Kara tried to blink back tears and failed. Something about seeing her cry openly while wearing the suit made her seem so small and delicate.

“I wish I could be human,” said Kara. “I wish I could just be the person you thought I was and we could just be us.”

(Us? Lex snarled. You’re nothing more than a dog to her, that can be put down when she’s done with you!)

Lena’s throat tightened and tears stung her eyes.

“You know, when I was fighting Red Daugher, Lex’s clone of me…”

Lena looked at her sharply.

“I… I couldn’t beat her. I was losing. She… she killed me. My heart stopped. I was gone.”

Lena choked out a soft sob, unable to restrain it.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“I knew I couldn’t go. I had so much to stay for. I don’t know how I did it but I dragged myself back from the other side, I just… I thought of Alex and J’onn and all my friends and everything I have to live for, everything here, on Earth, my home. Even that wasn’t enough.”

“What was?”

“You,” said Kara. “I couldn’t go without making amends with you, or at least trying. You’re my lodestar. I’ll always come back to you eventually.”

(She’s just trying to keep you in line. It’s a lie. It’s always a lie, she’s all lies!)

“I’m glad. I need someone around to safe me from assassination attempt number 547,” said Lena. The joke turned to sand in her throat, her voice on the edge of breaking.

“I’ve spent weeks trying to think of a magic combination of words that will make it better, but there isn’t one, is there? I can only tell you how sorry I am that I did what I did and promise I never will again. I’m so sorry I hurt you. It’s the worse thing I’ve ever done.”

“Kara…”

(Just let her trust you. You’re almost here. Myriad is here. The answer is here. Fuck her sentimental bullshit. She-)

Kara slowly reached out and caressed the back of her fingers against Lena’s tear-stained cheek.

“It’s crazy how dying made me realize so many things.”

“Like what?”

“All the things I never knew I wanted to do, until I knew I’d never do them.”

Lena swallowed, hard, fighting the urge to lean into her hand and press the warm skin to her own.

“Like what?”

Kara leaned in, filling Lena’a space, and Lena was acutely aware that she was the only warmth in this frozen place. Kara’s other arm swept around her, Kara’s fingers spread wide across Lena’s back.

“Is this okay?”

(No! NO NO NO!)

“Yes.”

(You can’t do this! You killed me, Lena! You killed your only brother for her and she’s a liar and a-)

Kara kissed Lena the way she did everything: Fully and completely. As Kara drew them together, Lena tipped back just a touch, as Kara seemed to tower over her, surrounding her in a warm embrace. Their lips met softly, chastely. Lena felt like she was in middle school again. It was as if she’d been rewound back to before her first clumsy, lip-pinching kiss in a boarding school bathroom.

She wasn’t sure whether it was Kara who deeepened the kiss, or her. In the end, it didn’t matter. Kara escalated by degrees, pausing as if to murmur an apology at any moment. Lena grasped her like was the only solace in a raging storm, feeling those steel cable muscles flexing beneath her suit.

Then she squeaked in Lena’s mouth when Lena grabbed a handful of ass, and Lena giggled.

“Do you want this too?” said Kara.

(You killed me!)

Yes, Lex, and I would again.

“Yes,” Lena admitted, and it was as if some great heavy weight had fallen from her shoulders.

She threw herself into Kara, shivering.

“It’s cold in here.”

Kara pulled Lena tight, wrapping them both in her cape.

“Let’s get what we came for and go home.”

[jupitercomet]

The Trial Run: Chapter Eight

summary - Bradley Bradshaw has one goal as he finishes his junior year of college - get Makayla Cunningham to be his girlfriend. Because Makayla Cunningham is exactly the kind of girl a guy like Bradley Bradshaw deserves. There's just one problem, Makayla is adamant that Bradley is a bad boyfriend. If he wants to win her over, Bradley has to prove he can keep a girlfriend of Makayla's choosing for the entire summer. It's just his luck that girl is his little sister's best friend.

warnings - college au, frat boy Bradley (Bradley’s frat is completely fictional and in no way meant to reference any existing frats), language, descriptions of a panic attack, brief mention of throwing up, talks of parental death, Bradley is 22 and reader is 19, no use of y/n, Bradley is 6'6" because I said so

this blog is 18+, minors please do not interact

word counts - 3.3k

the trial run masterlist

Makayla: what are you doing now?

Bradley feels his phone buzz against the shiny, faux wood table at the casual sports bar he and the guys had chosen to watch the Phillies game. Normally Bradley would have been just fine watching the game at home, his mom had a pretty big television and she never tried to trick herself into thinking that her son wasn’t drinking while he was away at college so she didn’t care too much when the boys pulled out a beer or two.

But Admiral Simpson absolutely hated the mess, and didn’t care much for sports either, and with his return looming over Bradley’s head, he just didn’t want to deal with it. So he, Jake, and Javy decided to find a sports bar that was close by and watch the game there. His mom tried to assure him that it wouldn’t matter, but Bradley Bradshaw isn’t 15 years old anymore and he knows enough to know that just because his mom wants something to be true doesn't mean that it is. 

But the buzz of his phone pulls him from these thoughts and Bradley looks down to see Makayla’s name lighting up his screen. He types out a quick reply to her message, moving his thumb to press the send button before he hesitates. You always like when he sends pictures. Opening the camera quickly, Bradley shoots a somewhat awkward smile, angling to get some of the bar in the background before sending it off with a text.

Watching the Phillies game

Bradley watches the three gray dots appear as Makayla takes several seconds to respond. He’s almost anxious for her response, which he doesn’t fully understand because he knows he shouldn’t be. Something about talking to her always put him a bit on edge.

Makayla is a very particular girl. She has strong opinions on things and tends to make sure everybody knows them. Bradley isn’t blind to how sometimes unnecessarily cruel she can be—this whole date requirement being a prime example of it—but Bradley thinks that girls like her are allowed to be.

He lets out a breath when she still hasn’t responded, dropping his phone screen side down and letting the conversation die as Jake and Javy come back with their drinks.

“Has the score changed?” Jake glances at one of the many televisions pointed in their direction while Bradley shakes his head. All three boys have their eyes trained on the TV and Bradley lets out a small mumble of thanks when Javy passes him his beer. The only thing that draws them away from the Phillies game is Bradley’s phone buzzing on the table again. Jake grins when he sees Bradley scramble for it. “That the girlfriend?”

Makayla: right

Bradley clears his throat, looking up from his phone. “Yeah.”

“I gotta say, dude,” Jake continued to rib him playfully. “Your sister’s best friend? I did not see that coming.”

“Honestly, I’m just happy to see him move on from Makayla,” Javy joins in the teasing, but Bradley can see how sincere his words are.

His brows furrow. “What do you mean?”

Taking in Bradley’s expression, Jake scoffs in disbelief. “Come on, man. Sometimes I’m not convinced you even like her.” 

“What?” Bradley’s fingers clench defensively against his beer.

His eyes flit between Jake and Javy and, to his surprise, both boys seem to be in agreement, having noticed something Bradley wasn’t even aware of. What do they mean he doesn’t like Makayla? Of course he likes Makayla. It’s the whole reason he’s doing any of this.

“I can’t be the only one who realizes that she’s exactly the kind of girl the Admiral would approve of.”

Jake’s words dump over Bradley like ice water, so chilling that, for a moment, he genuinely thinks someone’s poured beer on him. She’s exactly the kind of girl the Admiral would approve of. In some capacity, Bradley guesses that’s true. Makayla comes from a wealthy, established family, she was raised with the gender values Admiral Simpson wishes his mom had. Now that he thinks about it, Makayla’s probably the only person he knows who would not only survive, but enjoy a dinner with his stepdad.

Before Bradley can say anything to argue that of course he likes Makayla, a resounding crack rings out through the sports bar and the patrons jump up in excitement at the home run playing on the large TVs. Jake and Javy join them quickly, not nearly as affected as Bradley as he sits on his vinyl seat dumbly. He takes a long sip of his beer before shaking the feeling off and trying to forget everything long enough to enjoy the game.

Again, his phone buzzes on the table.

Makayla: also you should shave that mustache before you get back

Bradley purses his lips, the comment striking a cord in a way that has him locking his phone instead of responding to Makayla. Bradley doesn’t consider himself to be insecure—not in the slightest—but he’s finding it harder and harder to focus on the game, something nagging in the back of his head that he’s doing something wrong.

He uses the feeling of his cool beer bottle against his palm to ground himself, but he still finds himself shifting in his seat every few seconds, an uncomfortable itch overtaking him. From his peripheral, he catches his phone resting on the table. He can suddenly feel his keys inside his back pocket.

“I have to go.”

Javy and Jake turn away from the game in confusion—and truthfully Bradley also can’t believe those words just left his mouth. “What?”

“I just—” Bradley clears his throat, getting up almost frantically as he grabs his phone from the table. “I remembered I have to do something. Just— Tell me how it ends.”

With that, he’s leaving the table before Jake and Javy can even respond. He lets out a shaky breath, wiping his sweaty hands on his pants. He’s barely had a sip of alcohol and feels confident to drive, but he stays sitting in his Bronco for several minutes anyway. Keeping his gaze trained on the steering wheel, Bradley tries to feel like he’s not swallowing rocks. 

He looks down to find his hands shaking and he bites down on his lip, squeezing his eyes closed. “Shit.”

He knows what’s coming. He can feel it, like that feeling when you’re about to vomit. Bradley shoves his palms into his eye sockets, leaning back in his seat until his head is touching the headrest. Tears prick at his waterline, even though his eyes are closed tight, and each one feels almost painful as his throat gets smaller and smaller.

Bradley all but throws himself forward, resting his forearms on his knees as he holds his head in his hands. He keeps reminding himself that this will pass—it always does. But the waiting is the worst part and Bradley just can’t believe he’s trapped himself in the parking lot of a sports bar, hiding under the view of the windows as he waits to calm down.

His bottom lip is trapped between his teeth and he pulls at his hair as his breaths get sharper and quicker. The pain stings against his scalp, but it does little to distract him. Truthfully, Bradley should have known this was coming. It’s been looming over him since he stepped foot in San Diego and, if anything, he’s just grateful it happened when he was alone.

His fingers are still shaking, worse now, and his breathing pattern is entirely erratic. He tries to slow it down, but deep breaths feel like cement in his chest, and he just can’t. Bradley feels like a kid again, hiding in a stall in the boys bathroom until he was strong enough to come out. It’s the same quivering breath against his palms, the same stubborn tears rolling down his cheeks, he’s still that same kid. And he hates it.

Bradley hates that he’s not over this. Because he should be. A few words from his friends and a text shouldn’t be able to do this to him. But it does. And it is. And now he’s sitting in his car trying not to hyperventilate in the parking lot of a sports bar while his friends sit inside, none the wiser.

Bradley really hates coming home.

“Are you okay?”

Bradley needs you to stop asking him that every time you see him. Because you shouldn’t be able to tell that he’s not okay. The two of you only somewhat know each other and if you can tell that something’s going on, then he’s not hiding it as well as he thought.

“Fine,” he says simple, actively trying to ignore the worry in your eyes as you look at him.

He thought he waited long enough before coming inside to make it look like he hadn’t just been crying, but under your attentive gaze he keeps purposefully avoiding your eye so you don’t notice.

“Did something happen?” You try again gently. “I thought you were supposed to be watching the game with Javy and Jake.”

“I missed you.” The words come out before Bradley can process them, his own voice almost unrecognizable to him as he spits the words out instinctively.

Your lips part slowly and then he watches them curl up in a small smile. “It hasn’t even been an hour, Bradley.” You tease him, but it’s soft, as you take a step closer to him.

Bradley relaxes just slightly, allowing you into his space as some of his anxiety washes off of him. He nods. “Exactly. Too long.”

You smile again, letting your arms wrap around his shoulders while Bradley’s finds purchase on your hips. And then, just because he felt like it, he dips down to catch your lips, kissing you slowly. He tries to focus on the feeling of you, the softness of your lips, the way your nails scratch at the base of his curls every so often. Sighing against your lips, Bradley pulls you closer, his shoulders finally sagging.

“Okay, ew.” Giselle’s voice cuts the room and you pull away from Bradley quickly. Bradley honestly couldn’t give less of a shit about what his sister saw the two of you doing together, but you’re clearly embarrassed, looking down bashfully to hide your fluster.

Bradley shoots his sister a deadpanned glare. “Can we help you?”

“Oh, I was just looking for my best friend,” Giselle plops a grape in her mouth from where they’re sitting on the kitchen counter. “Making sure she hadn’t died or anything.”

Bradley grunts, the hand he still has on you squeezing your hip. “Well, she hasn’t.”

“Yeah, but she’s kissing you. That’s a fate worse than death.”

“Giselle,” you cut in before Bradley can respond. You and Giselle share a look, seemingly communicating to each other without words. Whatever your trying to tell her gets across because his sister sighs, holding her hands up in surrender.

“Fine,” Giselle nods and Bradley watches as she grabs another grape. Then she shoots you another look—equally unreadable to him—and you nod. “I’ll leave you to your sucking face then.”

Bradley waits for her to leave the kitchen before he looks down at you. “Sucking face?”

You smile slightly. “It’s a long story.” Turning back into his hold, you place your hands on his chest, smoothing down the fabric of his t-shirt. For a second, Bradley thinks you’re going to kiss him again, but instead you ask, “Is the Phillies game still on?”

“Should be,” Bradley glances at the stove clock. It’s only been an hour and a half, there was still a significant chunk of the game left.

Though, at this point, Bradley had no intention of watching it, he doesn’t say anything as you lead him around the house, grabbing your laptop from Giselle’s room and then heading into his. He’s still quiet as you manage to find—what may be an illegal—site to watch the game on, setting it up on the foot of his bed.

“Come on,” you pat the spot next to you and briefly Bradley thinks that you don’t look at all out of place in his bedroom.

He moves wordlessly to sit beside you, your thighs brushing only just as you both get comfortable on his bed. He doesn’t really know what you’re doing or why you’re doing it, and you seem to show no signs of wanting to tell him, so all he can do is sit somewhat awkwardly next to you as he watches the small screen of your computer. 

You lean a bit closer to him. “You’re gonna have to explain to me what’s going on though.” There’s a small smile on your face and Bradley’s grateful that you finally seem to be picking up on the fact that he just wants to pretend that everything's okay.

“Sure, sunshine.”

Bradley finds himself getting more invested in the game as the minutes tick by, his episode in the parking lot slowly forgotten as he explains terms and players to you in quiet mumbles. By his third commercial break, Bradley’s starting to feel more like himself, his grip on his emotions tightening and his mood rising.

He glances at you next to him. You hardly notice, now drawn into the Phillies game with a concentration Bradley can’t help but find adorable. He looks at the way your biceps are pressed against each other and lifts his arm just slightly. It’s when he tries to raise his arm again that you turn to look at him.

“No way.” A large grin overtakes your face as you look between him and his arm.

Bradley furrows his brows. “What?”

“Oh my god,” you laugh. “You’re about to do the thing. You’re so about to do the thing.”

Bradley can only look confused. “What thing?” When you only laugh harder, he makes a face. “What thing, sunshine?”

“The thing,” you hardly elaborate. “You were about to do the yawn thing where you put your arm around me.”

“What?” Bradley pulls back slightly in defense. “No, I—” When you just shoot him a look, Bradley purses his lips. You laugh again.

“I cannot believe the Bradley Bradshaw pulls moves that cliche.”

“Shut up,” Bradley shoulders you good-naturedly. “Don’t girls like that shit?”

You snort. “Just admit you’re losing your touch, Bradshaw.”

“I’m losing my—” Bradley laughs incredulously. “Alright, fine,” he gets up, holding out his hand to help you off his bed.

Confusion flashes across your features as he helps you up, leading you out of his room, the Phillies game now forgotten. “What are you doing?”

“Showing you that Bradley Bradshaw can be very,” Bradley turns around to shoot you a teasing smile. “Very smooth.”

Bradley can firmly live in the truth that he is smooth, the expression on your face proof enough when he pulls up to an empty part of the beach. In the late afternoon, the ocean sparkles, crashing and ebbing against the shore and the breeze is just cool enough to make the beating sun bearable.

You hop out of the car quickly and Bradley takes his time grabbing both your bags as you lay out towels on the abandoned sand. For whatever reason—even after all these years, Bradley still doesn’t know—every time he’s visited this part of the beach, there hasn’t been another soul on it. In the back of his mind, there’s a thought that this might be because it’s private property, but Bradley hasn’t been caught yet, so he figures it’s fine.

He sets your bags down next to you, sitting on the towel next to yours as he looks out on the ocean. Taking a deep breath, Bradley lets the ocean air fill his lungs, finally letting the events of the day wash off him. Makayla’s text comes back to him though, nagging at his brain, and he lets out a small sigh.

He knew it was stupid to be that thrown about a comment about his mustache. Even thinking the words felt stupid. But to him, it didn’t feel stupid. There was very little that Bradley has left of his dad. He doesn’t have the house, or the garage, or that vintage popcorn machine. He doesn’t even have all the memories, a lot of them he was too young to remember.

But when Bradley first started growing facial hair, it felt like he had something else of his dad’s. It was an embarrassing mustache at first sure, Giselle and his friends teased him to no end, but it grew and he’ll never forget the day his mom looked at him and sucked in a breath. Because Bradley looked just like his dad.

And yes, obviously Bradley took pride in his mustache when most of his frat brothers could only grow patchy beards at best. But he liked looking in the mirror and seeing his dad—or the reminder of his dad. He liked knowing that no matter what, no matter the choices his mom made, or people like Admiral Simpson, he will always be Nick Bradshaw’s son. 

Bradley didn’t expect Makayla to understand that. How could she when he’s never said anything? But there’s something that stings about it, like she doesn’t get it. Bradley sucks in a sudden breath, a thought hitting him. Maybe no one gets it.

You shift next to him and Bradley’s so in his own head that, in a moment of insecurity, he turns to you. “Do you think I should shave my mustache?”

You look at him quietly for several seconds, the question hanging in the air as you cock your head slightly like you’re deep in thought. Bradley tries not to seem nervous as you examine him.

“Well, you should do whatever makes you happy, but I like your mustache.” You say finally, climbing into his lap and smoothing your thumbs along the hairs. “Feel like you wouldn’t really be you without it.”

“You think?” Bradley’s hands fall to your hips as you straddle his thighs.

“Yeah, it’s very Bradley Bradshaw.” You trace your thumbs along his mustache again and Bradley’s eyes flutter closed at the feeling. “And I happen to like Bradley Bradshaw.” You press a quick peck to his lips. “Very much.”

Bradley grins, relief flooding his veins, and he moves one of his hands to grab your chin so that he can kiss you again. “Well, I like you too, sunshine. Very much.” He rolls you down on one of your towels, being mindful of the sand, before deepening the kiss. 

This is not the first time Bradley Bradshaw has made out on a beach, but even Bradley can admit that this time is different. It’s not that rushed, sort of “teenagers hooking up before they get caught” kiss that causes Bradley to fumble with bra clasps and get sand everywhere. His hands aren’t rushing over your body, grabbing and squeezing like he doesn’t have enough time. With you, Bradley can’t help but go slow. Slow enough that he can feel the warmth radiating off your body. Slow enough that he can hear every sound he pulls from your lips. Slow enough that the thought of going any faster doesn’t even cross his mind.

Bradley pulls away from you suddenly, watching as your dazed eyes blink away to confusion. Still hovering over you, he looks down. “What was that? Oh—” Bradley meets your eye again with a cheeky grin. “My mustache says it likes you too.”

You blink at him as you process his words and then throw your head back with a cackle. “Oh my god. That was worse than the yawn thing!”

“Oh, you want worse than the yawn thing?” Bradley traps you under him, a smirk forming on his lips. “I can make it dance for you, is that what you want?”

“Do not— Bradley!”

Somewhere in his bag, under a spare t-shirt and extra towel, Bradley’s phone lights up with a text notification that remains unnoticed as he goes back to kissing you through peals of laughter.

I don’t have a taglist but feel free to follow my library @jupitercometgold​​ if you want to be notified when I post

[milswrites]

A thousand roses

~ Cassian X Fem!Reader

Summary: Every day you curse the books that gave you unrealistically high expectations of men. Sure you were going to be single forever until you meet Cassian. Adamant he wants to take you on a date, Cassian does his best to impress.

Warning: ⚠️ Reading this may give you unrealistically high expectations of men ⚠️

Actual warnings: Lots of sex talk and inferences to sex but no actual smut!

“And then he made her orgasm three times! Three! The last guy I was with didn’t even manage to squeeze one out of me!”

Upon finishing your latest read, you just couldn’t help but give a very detailed review of exactly what you thought about it to your co-worker. A packed cafe in Velaris during the middle of the day was probably not the most appropriate location to shout about your sex life, but you just had to share how the smut filled pages had left you more satisfied than any man had ever done.

Jadis snorted into the steaming hot tea she was drinking, liquid spilling everywhere, “I’m telling you girl, you just need to get out there, kiss a few frogs to find your prince. I don’t know how many more of your smut reviews I can take. It’s not natural to be this turned on at work.”

You hummed in response, fingers absentmindedly brushing over the pages of your book, “But that’s the problem. I’m too picky to go for a frog!” You blame the hundreds of books in your library at home for that, millions of perfect fictional men literally at your fingertips. “Real men just don’t do it for me anymore.”

This statement was confirmed as you miserably scanned your eyes over the customers in the cafe, none of the males present seeming to stick out to you meet any of your self-imposed standards. You only had yourself and your books to blame for your lack of a relationship.

“I’m just never going to find anyone! Forever reading in my house wishing I was at the mercy of one of my book boyfriends” you sighed, not wanting to seem downhearted but you just couldn’t help it. Velaris just so happened to be a haven for beautiful relationships, everywhere you turned you’d see interlocked hands, affectionate hugs and the occasional heated exchange of kisses. You could only wish that one day you’d be in the same boat as them, overwhelmingly in love with someone who you could call your own. There’s a reason the night court was so affectionately called the court of dreams.

Jadis reeled in your wandering mind, “Well darling, I hope you enjoy forever fantasising about sex rather than having it. I for one can’t wait to take Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome for a spin.”

She was referring to the moderately attractive male who had asked her out the other day during the preparation of his morning coffee. In your opinion, it wasn’t the most romantic scene. Though Jadis hadn’t been on a date in a long while and so in her own words she was going to implode if she didn’t get a good fuck in soon. So who were you to judge.

The bell above the cafe door twinkled, ending the conversation about your book and pathetic love life. Your eyes travelled to the cafe entrance and stopped when they landed on the biggest male you had ever seen. The Illyrian walked through the door, having to duck his head and draw his wings in to fit through the much smaller frame. His presence in the cafe was enough for you to lift your head from where it was sat in your palm, interest peaked.

There was no doubt that this Illyrian was one of the most attractive males you have ever seen. His long brown hair was pulled back messily into a bun. You didn’t normally like the rough, slightly barbarian-esque type, typically preferring your males to be more clean-cut. It was clear this man didn’t look like most males. No, he looked as if he had just stepped out of one of your deliciously sinful smut books.

He began to approach the counter, his body taking up so much space that he bumped into tables, displacing the drinks of customers who were grasping at the mugs and glasses to try and prevent them from spilling at the earthquake caused by this ginormous man. He apologised to each of them as he moved but kept his eyes locked ahead. Locked on you.

Your friend, noticing the effect this man had on you, spun around and immediately started acting as if she was busy with another job, leaving you to serve him in your hypnotised state.

“Just a coffee please love” he said, pulling you from your stupor as he finally came to a stop at the counter. Mother, even his voice was hot. It was resonant and also bore the twinge of gruffness which left goosebumps on your arms in its wake. There was no doubt everything about this man oozed pure sex appeal. You were too mesmerised to move, brain not registering that he had asked you to do your job. Instead, like a besotted fool, you stayed stood behind your counter, feet rooted to the ground.

“You alright there gorgeous?” The unbelievably good looking male asked, roguishly handsome smile growing on his face, clearly aware of the effect he has on you. This spurred you to move, the stacked cups surrounding you rattling at your sudden movement. “Coffee! Right. Yes, of course!” Managing to squeak a few words out, you turned around to busy yourself with making the coffee, hatred in your eyes as you glared at Jadis who left you stranded making coffee for this very handsome man who’s looks alone were doing very strange things to you and making you think very indecent things. Jadis, undeterred by your glare, wiggled her eyebrows at you, grin stretched across her face, beaming from ear to ear.

With shaky hands, you finish up with making his coffee and without turning around, afraid you’d accidentally start professing your undying love to him if you did, you ask, “any sugar?”

His honey coated voice replies, “No thanks, I’ve already got my eye on something sweeter.” You ignored the sight of your friend’s head snapping speedily to look at you in glee. Heat burning across your cheeks, you turn back to face him, avoiding the man’s eyes.

Hands still shaking, you place the coffee in front of him and wait for him to pay. The sooner he leaves the sooner you can gossip with your Jadis about him and moan about your inability to act normal in front of incredibly attractive men. He pulls out the money from his pocket and places it on the counter, pushing it towards you, but before you can take it from him he drags it back in his direction, finger holding it in place. “How about you and I go out together sometime sweetheart? You’re obviously desperate to.”

At this, the lovesick fog that had been swimming in front of your eyes since this man had entered the cafe dissipated. Rose-tinted glasses off you noticed that the smile that adorned his face was more of a cocky smirk. His confidence and tone of voice told you that he asks this question a lot and most likely always gets the answer he desires. It was clear this man wasn’t the personification of one of your book males come to life. He was just another playboy.

Not wanting to just be another name on the list for this man, you slid the money out from under his hand, sickly sarcastic smile on your face, and said, “I think I’ll pass thanks sweetheart.”

The males smirk promptly fell from his face in shock, clearly not expecting, nor used to rejection. He sputtered out a few buts and whats, flirty demeanour forgotten, a slightly pathetic butt-hurt one taking its place. This was definitely a man not used to losing.

“Have a nice day!” You enthusiastically, and very satirically, finished this interaction before walking away to busy yourself with clearing some now empty tables in the cafe. Wings hung low in defeat, the man at the counter left the cafe, bell ringing as he exited. This surprised you, having expected him to put up a little more of a fight, but nonetheless you were glad that it was over with. Cursing yourself for falling for just another pretty face, standards forgotten.

“What?!” Your friend screamed running over to you, grabbing your shoulders and shaking you vigorously as if you had lost all senses. Unafraid of scaring off the customers who still sat in the cafe, some clearly entertained by the whole event which had transpired. “Do you know who that was? Oh Y/N he was totally into you! Why did you say no?”

“Because he was looking at me as if I was a piece of meat! And no, I have no idea who he was and unlike you I don’t go jumping on every stranger who asks me out at work” You brushed Jadis off of you and started taking the dirty glasses back behind the counter to be washed, your friend hot on your heels not wanting to finish this conversation just yet.

“That was Cassian!” She continued, expression as if it should have been obvious to you who the Illyrian male was. “Good for him” you replied, no idea why it should matter to you who he was, clearly if Jadis and the few interested by standers in the cafe knew who he was he had quite the reputation in Velaris. Surely that mustn’t be a good thing.

“Cassian? Lord of bloodshed? General and Commander of the Night Court’s army?” She continued, seriously not convinced you could have absolutely no idea about him.

You snorted, “I’m sorry, no one actually has that many titles unless they’re from a book… or if they just have a very large ego”.

Jadis groaned, hands fisting her hair in exasperation, “Y/N he’s like totally hot and totally loaded and super important! And he was so checking you out!” You could tell all this was upsetting your friend who was most definitely hoping you were about to get some much needed action, but all you could do was shrug, “I’m sorry babe but I’m a romantic, it’s going to take more than pet names and a stupidly attractive face to gain my interest.”

Giving up, Jadis dropped her hands from her head in acceptance, disappointment clear on her face, “I know, but don’t come running back to me to complain how unsatisfied you are when that Illyrian god was basically throwing himself at you.”

After the topic of the male was dropped, your day continued as normal, whilst Jadis had promised not to bring it up again but you couldn’t help but notice the angry glances your friend kept throwing your way during the last few hours of your shift, distressed that you had let a man go who had seemed perfectly acceptable in her opinion.

At the end of your shift, in an attempt to get her to understand where you were coming from, you slid your book towards her, “Here. Read it and then maybe you’ll understand what I mean.” She picked it up, looking at the cover eyes bulging at the title, “Bound in chains? Really?”

“Trust me, sit down with a large glass of wine and read it. You’re going to love it!”

With that the two of you locked up the cafe, book secure in Jadis’s bag. You said your goodbyes at the door and headed your seperate ways, all thoughts of the handsome man from earlier in the day long gone. Upon your arrival at home, you wandered to your favourite room in the house, your library, wanting to select a new read to cosy up with for the evening.

Approaching your shelf that you reserved exclusively for books you had bought but had yet to read, you pulled one out by its spine, eyes glancing over the cover. The cover which bore the image of a large, well-muscled man, whose long brown hair flowed freely over his shoulders. Eyes blowing wide and blush returning to your cheeks you shoved the book back onto the shelf. Thoughts drifting back to the Illyrian with the same looks who had been flirting with you earlier. Maybe you’d be better off reading a safe fantasy book tonight. Or better yet a book that had no man in at all, although that would be a rare find in your library.

~~~~~

“I am a changed women”

Returning to work the next day, you were greeted by Jadis smiling, bouncing up and down on her feet, and holding your book in her hands.

“I take it you liked it then?”

“Liked it?”Jadis squealed, “it was like reading pure porn. I loved it”

You laughed along side her, of course Jadis would read an entire book and focus on the porn rather than the actual plot of it.

“Truly I did,” she continued, rushing about and gathering her things, “and I would love to stay behind now my shift has finished to talk about it but I have to go home and get ready for Mr Tall, Dark and Handsome, maybe tonight I can try out some of those moves I read about!” She winked at you, handing over your book before rushing out of the cafe with an excitable “Wish me luck!”

Work had been very quiet today, allowing you time to sit and read your newest book. After finishing a simple fantasy last night you were left unsatisfied by the lack of enjoyment it provided when it came to the physical romance. Needing more, you had selected one of the filthiest books you could find.

Engrossed in the pages, plot thickening by the minute, you were absorbed into the book. Only to be broken from its spell when the familiar chime rang of the bell rang out, signalling a customer had arrived. Rushing to finish the page before they reached the counter, your eyes flew over the words before you finally reached the end of the page. Enabling you to look up from behind your book only to see Cassian standing before you, lips formed into a cautious smile. As if unsure of how you’d react to his presence after yesterday.

“Coffee?” You ask, eyebrows raised, placing your book down before standing up from the stool you were sat on behind the counter.

“Please if you don’t mind, but don’t let me stop you from finishing ‘Fated Frenzy’… cauldron do women really read books like this?” Cassian exclaimed, picking up your book and flicking through the pages, holding it out of reach so you couldn’t snatch it back.

Clenching your fists together as you glared at him you replied, “well if only men knew how to actually please a woman then we wouldn’t have to.”

“Maybe you just haven’t found the right man then,” Cassian mumbled, focus still on the book that was dwarfed in his large hands. He must have reached a particularly risqué part as his eyes widened slightly, tongue peaking out from between his lips. Now as he spoke, reading from your book, he wore a large grin, “I mean not every man has a cock that looks as if it was sculpted by the gods themselves.”

You scowled, now managing to take hold of the book grasped in one of his large hands and snatched it back. “I’ve certainly never met a man like that” you replied as you slammed your book back onto the counter and moved off to make his coffee so he could leave you to read in peace.

“Don’t want to check sweetheart?” He teased from behind your back, clearly trying to get you as flustered as he had managed to yesterday. Pleased at your banter. Not wanting to give him what he wants, and definitely not wanting to turn around to see his stupidly handsome smirking face looking back at you, you replied from over your shoulder while you were busy finishing his drink, “it doesn’t take a fool to know the spymaster has a larger wingspan. Now his I’d like to see.”

You heard the catch of his breath, causing him to choke on air at what you had said, clearly not expecting your confident retort, and not saying anything at the discovery you do indeed know who he is all thanks to Jadis. Cheeks stretching into a grin of your own at his embarrassment, you turn and place his drink in front of him. Unlike yesterday, Cassian didn’t even attempt to reach for his money before asking, “Please, let me take you out somewhere nice”.

Your smile dropped, head shaking slowly, “What classes as nice in your books? Other than a quick fuck behind the back of the building.” This comment made Cassian’s eyebrows knit together, not happy with the impression you had of him. “What will it take for you to understand I’m serious? That I want to take you on a date to get to know you.” He sounded earnest you’d give him that.

“I don’t know ok! I just know that I’m not going to say yes to a man I don’t even know who asked me out while I was just doing my job.”

He stretched out his hand, trying to meet yours which was resting on the counter but you pulled away before any contact could be made. “I want to get to know you, if you’ll let me. Likes, dislikes, good bits, bad bits, everything.”

“I- I don’t know Cassian, I just don’t think this is going to work.”

“What will it take?” He begged, eyes desperate.

“For you to be like one of them” you said, nodding your head towards your book.

“An overly sexual alpha male?” He said, confused as to what you were actually referring to. This made a small laugh escape from your lips, “No that’s just a bonus. I’m sorry Cassian, I just dream about being swept of my feet by a man that acts like one of them. Romantic, sweet, not asking out every other woman they see.”

“I can be romantic” Cassian said defensively, “I can be incredibly romantic”

Wanting to get this interaction over with you decided just to agree with him. “I’m sure you can Cassian, no doubt there’s a very lucky woman waiting for you somewhere”.

You weren’t sure it was possible for his brows to furrow any more than they already were, “I’ll prove it to you. Prove that I’m all in on this. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on and I’m not going to let you go that easily.” Determined look plastered on his face Cassian grabbed his coffee and walked towards the door pulling the it open, bell chiming, and before he stepped outside he called back to you, “I’ll see you soon gorgeous, you better be ready for me” and with that Cassian left, the cafe silent apart from the bell still ringing, the sound helping you realise that Cassian was real and that interaction did actually happen.

It was only five minutes later, when your wild thoughts were tamed by another customer entering did you realise that Cassian never even paid for his drink.

~~~~~

“Y/N!” Cassian shouted bustling through the tables to reach you as he entered your work once more. Shock flooded your system, he had learnt your name from when you last spoke to him two days ago. After causing a ruckus, and spilling many drinks onto poor unsuspecting customers laps, he reached the counter where you were stood waiting for him.

“What are you-“ you started angrily, worried he would scare away valued customers. Though you were interrupted by Cassian whose arm, which was hiding behind his back, shot out revealing the largest bouquet of flowers you’ve ever seen.

He held them out expectantly, waiting for you to take them but your suprise had you rooted to the spot. Familiar with your freezing by now, Cassian impatiently shook the bouquet in your face, movement bringing your thoughts back to the present. Still not taking them, not quite believing something so beautiful could be gifted to you, you spoke, “They’re lovely Cassian but you just cut right in front of Matilda who was here first!” Cassian’s features faltered as he dropped the bouquet in disappointment.

Matilda , the lovely little old fae who frequented your cafe, leaned around Cassian’s broad figure so she could see you, “it’s alright Y/N! Take the damn flowers and talk to the man!”

Cassian thanked the older women and stuck out the flowers once more. “For you,” he said encouragingly, willing you to accept the gift, “I told you I’d prove myself to you. I’m here for a date.” By this point you had been stood there for a ridiculous time causing your Jadis to stretch her arm past you and grab the flowers smirking as she says, “Thank you Cassian, they’re beautiful, Y/N loves them. Lillies are her favourite, how did you know?” Winking as she walked off with the bouquet it was clear Cassian has been getting some insider information from the mouth of your best friend.

The Illyrian nodded his head at your friend gratefully and you finally rediscovered the ability to speak, “Thank you, but if you’re here for a date I’m sorry I can’t help you, this is my work Cas, I have to do my job.”

“Pfft bit presumptuous I’m here for a date with you”

At that your face fell slightly before you quickly returned you expression to normal, not wanting Cassian to know his words had an effect on you. Surely he wouldn’t bring you flowers just to have a date with another woman in your workplace. Was this some twisted way to try and make you jealous?

Flirty expression on his face Cassian adjusted where he was stood and flung his arm around Matilda who began to blush, “Have to find out everything I can about you from my beautiful date Matilda here! One coffee for me and one of whatever my darling date would like” he said, making Matilda giggle before asking for her usual. Relief flooding you body, your lips twitched and you began to make their order, “my, my, Matilda. I have to say I expected better in your taste of men”.

“Woah woah no need to tell her,” Cassian joked, “don’t want this hot commodity to leave me for something better” he finished, winking at Morgana who looked as happy as if it was Solstice morning. Grabbing the finished drinks you had placed before him, he headed to a table, coming back once the drinks were down to walk Matilda to her chair, but not before placing his money on the counter, saying, “Moneys there for the other day by the way, I’ll speak to you later.”

Cassian must have sat talking with Matilda for hours, watched closely by you from the corner of your eye as you worked, customer after customer coming and going. Finally when the rush had died down and your shift was coming to an end, the two who had been huddled together gossiping over more than a few coffees, hot chocolates and cakes stood to take their leave. Or more accurately, Matilda was taking her leave. Cassian had said his goodbyes bending down to give Matilda a big hug and then scooped their empty plates and cups into his arms before walking towards you.

There wasn’t enough time for him to place the items down on the counter before you watched as Matilda lay a firm smack to his backside before giggling, “I’ll see you later hot stuff.” Lucky not to break any cups, Cassian jumped, flying forwards and dropping them all onto the counter before you, eyes terrified.

You couldn’t help but chuckle, placing the cups the right way up before checking on the male, “you alright there hot stuff?”

“Oh don’t even start. That woman’s got one strong slap” he whined, hand rubbing his ass to relieve some of the pain.

“Don’t act like that’s not how all your dates end” you goaded, cheeks twinging at the effort to stop yourself from bursting out laughing.

“Trust me gorgeous, if any of my actual dates ended like that I wouldn’t be complaining” he winked at you, all the while pulling a napkin out of its holder to help you clean his mess from the counter.

As you watched him clean, you couldn’t help but admire the way his brows slightly furrow when he’s concentration, noting the way his focused mouth tilts to once side, tongue slightly poking from between his lips. He was handsome there was no denying it.

“Will you walk me home?” You blurted, snapping your mouth shut and internally cursing yourself for asking such a ridiculous thing, digging yourself into an even deeper hole you continued, “it’s only that the flowers you got me are so big… and I have all my other things…and…uh..”

“Y/N, I would love to walk you home”

“Great! I’ll just um, go and grab my stuff”

You turned, heading towards the cloakroom, only to be met by Jadis, bag and bouquet in hand. She shoved them eagerly into your arms squealing, “go get him girl!” Hands pressed against your back, she forced you to move forwards until you were in front of Cassian, “don’t have too much fun you two” she said now guiding you both from the cafe, tripping and stumbling over each others feet as Jadis’s excitement led to some very firm shoving.

~~~~~

Once outside in one piece, no thanks to Jadis, Cassian plucked the flowers from your arms allowing you to swing the strap of your book-filled bag over your shoulders. Timidness now overcame you, what were you supposed to say to him now? Had asking him to walk you home seemed too desperate?

“So what are you reading now? Not another book about a poor sexually frustrated female?” He asked, breaking your panicked thoughts as he walked side by side with you.

“No sex this time,” you giggled lightly, “this one’s about a man who sacrificed his kingdom for his true love”

“You really like that stuff huh?” Cassian spoke softly to you, he sounded like he was truly interested in finding out exactly how your brain worked, “that true love and romantic gestures shit?”

“It’s not shit” you defended, “sometimes it helps me not feel so alone. Reading about all these grand gestures and things people do for the ones they love.”

Cassian cleared his throat awkardly, his hand which was not holding the flowers moving up to scratch at his head, “and you’re into that? Romantic gestures?”

“It’s hard not to be. Pretty sure it’s every girls dream to be swept of their feet and fall as deeply as characters do in books.” Cassian was nodding along to what you were saying but his eyes showed he was lost in thought. It was your turn to draw him from his head, “you never done anything romantic for your ladies Cas?”

His name on your lips seemed to work, the clouds of thought in his eyes fading as he turned his gaze from the road ahead to you, “I guess I’ve normally always thought that just me is enough”. He didn’t say this to be cocky or narcissistic, you could tell. You didn’t mean to make him feel shame over the situation, you had been genuinely curious. Perhaps a little jealous at the thought of Cassian putting in just as much work into chasing other women as he has been with you.

“That’s ok. I think romance is more reserved for the pages of books these days than in actual reality”

Not a fan of where this conversation had turned to Cassian did his best to lift the mood, “I’m not surprised you think that if all your books were like that one I caught you reading. Heck where are you meant to find a overprotective god of war with who hates everyone but the lowly daughter of an inventor and they go on to have insane - and totally not physically possible by the way- sex!”

You scrunched your face, “Cassian there’s no way you were able to get all that from one page…Oh cauldron! You read the book! You read Fatal Frenzy!”

As if only now realising what he said to you, a flustered Cassian tried to provide you with lame excuses as to how he knew that information until it was clear you weren’t going to let it go. After about five minutes of listening to your constant prodding, poking and teasing as you walked, Cassian caved, “Fine! Fine, I read it ok. I was curious as to how he was going to put his god level cock to use!”

By this point you were full on cackling, having to stop your walking to put a hand on your stomach at the thought of this mountain of a man sitting down to read a devilishly smutty book. “I have to say”, you gasped out in-between giggles, “I’m surprised you can even read”.

Cassian acted out the most overdramatic reaction to your words, his hands flew to his heart, bouquet still in his grasp, and released loud, exaggerated noises of pain and cries of just how horrible you were. People had began to stop in the street, wondering why the Lord of Bloodshed was acting as though he had just been shot. Rolling your eyes and wanting the attention off the two of you, you elbowed his side prompting him to stop, “careful you’ll crush my flowers if you die any wilder.”

Charming grin of his face, Cassian looked down at you, “we wouldn’t want that would we? Not when a super hot guy went through the effort of finding out your favourite flowers for you.”

“You’re crazy” you said in dismissal, continuing to walk in the direction of your home.

“Your kind of crazy?” A hopeful tone in Cassian’s voice.

“I haven’t quite decided yet” you said honestly. You couldn’t deny that Cassian was already proving himself to you more than any man has. No one had ever bought you flowers before and no male had ever attempted to read a book you were reading for your attention.

“Well you just let me know when you do” Even the way Cassian looked at you made you melt.

“You’ll be the first” gentle smile on your face. Nerves building in you once more as you thought about what going further with the man next you you would entail.

Content to let you walk lost in your thoughts, Cassian didn’t try to force any conversation. A natural peace fell between the two of you, the silence not an awkward one. It wasn’t until you neared the outside of your house that you broke the silence, “Well, this is me”.

Nodding Cassian passed you the bouquet. For the first time you looked at the flowers and really admired them, admired the fact this man had gone out his way to go to your friend and make sure he got your favourite ones.

“Thank you Cassian,” you said, laying a kiss onto his stubbled cheek, “they’re beautiful.”

Cassian’s usual confidence gone, it was his turn to blush. Shyly, he tried his luck again, “so about that date?”

You walked over to your door, pulling out your key, turning back to Cassian, twinkle in your eyes, you said, “ask me again tomorrow”.

“That wasn’t a no!” He said, confidence rushing back into him. As you entered your house and peaked through the window behind your curtains you couldn’t help but watch Cassian, beam on his face, as he jumped on the spot. A small celebration that you hadn’t fully rejected him once more. A matching grin on your face as you observed him, you stayed watching until he took off from the ground, large angelic wings spread, wondering what in Prythian was this man doing to you and what sinful things you’d like to do with those wings.

~~~~~

You were sorely disappointed over the course of the next week. Since that evening Cassian had walked you home to the cafe he had not returned. Jadis tried to keep your thoughts positive, saying he was probably away on important Night Court business, being the General of its army and all. After being the one to speak to Cassian about you she was adamant that he was undoubtedly in love with you and he wouldn’t leave you hanging.

It was hard though, when the eighth day of his absence rolled round, not to think that he had found someone more interesting to pursue. Someone who didn’t make him work as hard for their affections. Your mood was so glum that you didn’t even have the heart to read. Why read about love when you’re not sure you believe in it anymore?

You had spent days wondering what you had done wrong. Had you been too forward? Or did he find your obsession with males that weren’t real a little too bizarre? You did your best not to dwell on it but it was so hard not to, the flowers you had placed in a vase on the side table in your library, right next to your reading chair, still flourished beautifully, a constant reminder of the man who crashed into your life only to leave it in shambles.

So here you were, sat on the stool in the cafe, your thoughts being the only thing to keep you busy due to your sudden lack of interest in reading. It had been another quiet day, but it wasn’t long now until Jadis would arrive, you had opened the cafe for her after she asked for a favour so she could spend the night at Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome’s, who’s name you had learnt was Arthur. Happy that even if your love life was crumbling, at least Jadis’s was blooming. However, you were thankful you weren’t actually supposed to be working today, not sure if you could survive another shift listening to her unintentionally boast about how perfect Arthur was and how good he is at sex.

So you sat there and waited for her arrival, desperate to go home and crawl into your bed. Without your typical reading to do, you found yourself spending most of your free time sleeping, wasting away the hours you didn’t know what to do with yourself in.

It was finally an hour after the time she had promised to be in for, when Jadis flew into the cafe, bell ringing aggressively at her sudden entrance. Running to where you were at the counter, coat and bags in hand, she was profusely apologising over and over for her tardiness.

“You must have had a good night with Mr Handsome” you teased, trying not to let your slight annoyance at you still being here show. Confusion flashed across her face before she quickly corrected it in realisation, “Oh yeah! Totally great sex, every woman’s dream. Hugeeee dick.”

Opening your mouth, ready to ask her about her odd behaviour, she pulled you from your stool before you could talk. Dragging you out from behind the work area, saying “Come on Y/N it’s your day off, don’t want to be here any longer than you have to be!”

Now you defiantly knew something was off, Jadis typically keeping you an hour in-between shifts to catch you up on everything that has happened since the day before. “Jadis, what’s going on?” You asked cautiously, had something happened between her and Arthur? No. Jadis would definitely tell you if that was the case, or maybe she just didn’t want to make you any more depressed than you already were. Still in that strange tone of voice, Jadis kept pushing you to leave, “Nothings wrong! I’m fine. Now leave, you still have the whole day to do something, go read one of your smut books!”

This confirmed she was definitely hiding something, knowing that you haven’t picked up a book for the past week after listening to your incessant complaining about the matter. If you weren’t so desperate to leave and go rot in bed for the rest of the day you would have stayed and forced whatever it is she was hiding out of her. You decided that was tomorrow’s job, when you had a nice six hour shift together where she couldn’t avoid your pestering.

Shrugging on your coat and promising to yourself you’d find out what she was dodging tomorrow, you left the cafe. Turning your head around to look back through the windows only to be met with Jadis and her crazed eyes watching, as if making sure you were walking in the direction of your house. Unsettled, you followed the streets leading home, praying to the Mother that your friend was alright and you weren’t about to have to kill a man for upsetting her.

Finally, you arrived at your door, turning the key in the lock you were startled to discover the door was already unlocked. You were exhausted when you left that morning but you could have sworn you weren’t so tired that you’d risk your property and your safety like that.

Fear now coursing through your veins, you quietly pushed your door open, scared you would alert anyone in your house that you were there and something bad would ensue. The fae lights in your hallway were all lit, softly casting a warm glow over your home. You stepped inside, and instead of your foot meeting the usual plush of your carpet it was met with a slight crunch.

Casting your eyes to the ground you gasped. There were hundreds of rose petals scattered across your floor, leading towards each of your rooms. Following the trail, you made it through to the entrance of your living room, if your jaw dropped any lower you were sure it’d hit the floor.

The entire room looked as if it had been covered in a red blanket, a sea of roses covering the entirety of your room to the point where you couldn’t actually see anything that wasn’t a deep shade of red.

By this point your heart was pounding in your chest and you were sure you could feel your eyes watering, the hundreds of roses placed around you getting blurrier and blurrier. But there was no sign of the man you were sure had placed them.

Turning around you sped into each of your rooms, wanting nothing more than to find Cassian and throw your arms around him. Each room the same as the last, filled to the brim with the most beautiful roses. Lillies may once have been your favourite flowers but you think the kind-hearted man, who had wormed his way into your heart, may have just changed your mind. Roses were perfect.

Still no Illyrian insight you flung open the door to your library. Room decorated just as over the top as the others. And there in the centre of it all, sat waiting for you to return home, is Cassian. He stood quickly, treading on some of the flowers placed by his feet.

“How?” You asked, voice cracking as you tried to hold the tears at bay.

“It wasn’t easy, Jadis let me in.” Cassian said lightheartedly from where he stood across the room, too far from you for your liking, “I’m sorry I’ve been gone so long. I wanted to do this the day after we last spoke but I guess I didn’t actually think about the logistics of getting thousands of roses delivered.”

You stayed silent, heart overwhelmingly filled with love for the man before you, the man who had spent the past week getting a thousand roses just to ask you on a date. Taking your silence for something bad, Cassian began to ramble, “My brother Azriel - the spymaster - he helped too…I wanted to make sure it’d be done in time. It’s a mess I get it, I’m sorry, I’ll clear it all out for you I just-“

You cut him off, tears now flowing freely down your red hot cheeks, hands trembling, “it’s perfect Cassian. Nobody…nobody has ever done anything like this for me” At the sign of your tears Cassian made to make his way towards you but was stopped by the fact he just didn’t know where to place his foot without ruining all his hard work.

“Clearly I didn’t think this through very well” he mumbled, arms out to keep him balanced and preventing him from falling. Not wanting to spend a minute more away from him after having to suffer through a whole week, you ran, roses be damned right into his arms. Throwing yourself at his muscled body as he caught you, pulling you close to his chest in midair.

“You’re crazy!” you exclaimed, head tucked into his neck as you rested it on his shoulder.

Cassian placed you down gently, arms still wrapped tightly around your waist but he wanted to look into your eyes for this, “your kind of crazy?” His eyes held that same hopeful desperation that they had when he last asked you out.

“Hell yeah” and with that you grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and connected his lips to yours.

The kiss was like nothing you had ever read before in one of your books. It was everything and more. A fire ignited within you, burning hotter and hotter and you just kept needing more. Cassian the fuel to your fire and you were sure that as long as you had him with you it was a flame that would never die out.

It was a messy clash of teeth and tongues, both of you uncaring of how sloppily and uncoordinated were kissing. All you knew was you needed each other like the pages of a book needed ink. You kissed and you kissed, hands wandering until you weren’t sure which parts belonged to Cassian and which to yourself.

The need to breathe forgotten, you continued. Hands running over his back which was rippled in muscles before reaching around his neck, holding onto him tightly as he picked you up once more.

It was only when the need for air was so overwhelming that you had no other option to pull away that you did. Heads pressed together, lips still slightly touching, a trail of saliva linking the two of you together. Cassian continued to hold you in his arms as if you were nothing but a feather, catching his breath he finally began to speak, “So about that date then?”

You giggled, pulling him even closer to you by his neck and laying a soft peck on his lips before drawing away to give your answer, Cassian’s mouth chasing after yours, “If this is how you ask me, I can’t wait to see what you have planned for our first date. Hopefully you don’t ignore me for a month whilst you prepare.”

Barking out a laugh Cassian placed you on the floor of roses, holding your hands to ensure you didn’t stumble. He looked around the room, proud smile adorning his face, he first took in the roses which he had took so long in prepping, screaming at Azriel when he hadn’t placed them down as he had pictured in his head. His gaze then swept your shelves, hundreds of books upon them.

“Ever read about this in one of your books?”

“Nope this is definitely a first”

His eyes landed on the book resting on your table, right next to the vase full of lilies he had originally given you, title in gold lettering along the front of the cover. Fated Frenzy. The book he had read because of you. You laughed as you spotted what he was staring at, his eyes travelling back to you, running up your body with hunger before finally settling on your eyes.

“You into roleplay gorgeous?”

With those words he smashed his lips back onto yours. The promise of an exciting night ahead.

Here, standing in your library entwined with the Illyrian you decided all those characters you have read about were lacking in one thing you never even knew you needed.

They weren’t Cassian.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Notes: You have no idea how much I wanted to finish this fic with “And so Cassian did” lol

Happy Valentines <3

[daisies-daydreams]

HEYYY.. UHM IM BACK!!.. sigh i am so sorry i need MORE hobie x plus sized reader..

i was thinking of fluff that turns into smut, hobie and reader are just cuddling and kissing in their shared bed and things go to the other direction..

( idk why but i want like hardcore?? totally understandable if you can’t write that, my apologies!)

huge fan of your work, i love you sm!! /p ❤️🕸️

Sticks and Stones (Hobie Brown x F!Plus-Size!Reader)

Pairing: Hobie Brown x F!Plus-Sized!Reader Category: Fluff/Smut (18+) Warnings: (where do I begin???) Swearing, Making Out, Hickeys, Clit Play, Oral Sex (M!/F! Receiving), Cockwarming, Orgasm Denial, Vibrators, Multiple Orgasms (Hobie/Reader), Cum Eating, “Creative” Use of Webbing (Bondage), Unprotected P in V Sex (You Know the Drill), Butterfly Position, Semi-Reverse Cowgirl, Slight Daddy Kink, Squirting, References to Aftercare Word Count: 4.4k+

A/N: Oh no dear there’s no need to be sorry! Hobie’s one of my favorite characters to write for, so it’s always lovely to receive requests for him (though I might’ve gone a little too wild with this one 🤭). (Also the reader knows that Hobie is Spider-Man in this continuity). I hope you enjoy! 🫶

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI

You sighed as you collapsed on your mattress, your belly and thighs jiggling as you lay flat against your cozy comforter. Your heart sank as you slowly turned on your side, your eyes falling on the cold, empty spot beside you. Sure, it was amazing having Spider-Man as your boyfriend...but you never really thought about the long periods of time when he'd be away. A knot of anxiety tightened in your chest as you bit the inside of your cheek.

Your mind raced as you thought about how many days he’s been gone for a special mission. Days and nights of you not knowing when-or if-he'd be back. You knew the risks he took, the countless dangers he came face to face with, all to protect the people of London…to protect you.

Your train of thought was disrupted when you felt someone smooth their hand over your hip. You gasped and jumped up, your heart nearly beating out of your chest as you kicked your legs forward. You froze when you saw Hobie standing in front of you with a cheeky grin.

"Still a bit jumpy, eh?" he mused.

"Hobie!" you squealed as you scrambled off the bed. You nearly tackled him to the floor as you wrapped your arms around his lanky frame and pulled him close. Your boyfriend sighed happily as he returned your embrace, his hands falling against the small of your back.

"Hi," Hobie whispered before kissing the crown of your head.

"Hi," you grinned. The two of you slowly parted before deeply gazing into each other's eyes. “I’m so happy you’re home,” you said with tears in your eyes. Your boyfriend grinned as he gently cupped your cheek.

“Glad to be home,” he murmured. Your heart fluttered as Hobie slowly dipped his head down and caught your lips in a tender kiss. You sighed and wrapped your hands around his neck as warmth swept across your body. You loved the way Hobie's lip ring brushed over your bottom lip as he tilted his head, his hands sliding down to rest on your hips.

"Never seen these before, they new?" Hobie smirked as he played with the elastic of your panties. You squeaked when he snapped it against your waist, the slight sting reverberating across the plush of your hips.

"Maybe," you said before playfully flicking his chest. Hobie chuckled as he pulled back.

"How 'bout we catch up in bed, yeah?" he suggested before gently stroking your love handles-a silent apology for his teasing. Your heart skipped a beat as you turned around and crawled back onto the mattress. You paused as you watched your lover shrug off his studded leather jacket and tossed onto a chair nearby. He smirked when he caught you staring.

"Like what you see?" he lilted as he pulled his shirt over his dark, puffy wicks. You blushed and squeezed your thighs together as he quickly stripped down to his briefs. Your lover flashed you a warm smile as he climbed onto the bed, the frame creaking as he crawled towards you. You smiled as he draped one of his lanky arms over your side.

“How’ve you been, dove?” he asked in a low, soft tone.

“Okay…even better now that you’re here,” you said with a bright smile.

“Oh?” Hobie hummed with a raised brow. You sighed and bit your lip.

“I missed you, so much,” you said as you traced your finger along the scar on his collar bone. Hobie nodded slowly, his expression growing more solemn at your words.

"I missed you, too," he said before kissing your forehead. "I'm so sorry, babe. I can’t imagine how hard it’s been for you,” he frowned as he smoothed his hand over your hip. You cupped his face and gave him a gentle smile.

“I’m just glad you’re safe,” you murmured. Hobie grinned as he rested his forehead against yours.

“Me too,” he murmured. Your cheeks flushed with heat he slipped his hand even lower, his fingertips rubbing over the globe of your ass.

“Hobie,” you blushed as he began to kiss along your neck. You squeaked when he took a handful of your bum and squeezed it tenderly.

“I was thinkin'...maybe we could make up for lost time since we're already here?” Hobie husked into your ear. You bit your lip as he continued to play with your plump ass, his fingertips greedily sinking into your supple flesh. You spread your hands against his chest, making him freeze his ministrations.

“If we do…could we maybe do things a little more rough tonight?” you asked hesitantly. Hobie tilted his head as he released his grip on your rear.

“How rough are we talkin'?” he asked, his voice dropping several octaves. You bit your lip, a rush of heat sweeping over your body as your clit throbbed against the fabric of your panties.

“You know…like that one time on New Year’s Eve,” you whispered as if someone were eavesdropping nearby. Hobie raised his brows and smirked.

“‘Course. How could I forget New Year’s?” he drawled before giving your bum another eager squeeze. “You sure you want me to be that rough with you again, though?” Hobie asked. You swallowed thickly as you eyed the bulge growing beneath his briefs.

“I-I’m sure,” you breathed. Hobie's smirk returned before he suddenly rolled on top of you and held your arms above your head. Your chest rose and fell as his lips just barely ghosting over yours.

"Remember the safeword from last time?" he asked, his eyes lit with arousal as he teasingly ground his hips against yours. You nodded and gasped as his cock brushed against your clit in a delicious way. "Let's get you out of these clothes then," Hobie rumbled. You parted your lips before he slipped his tongue inside your mouth, his hands hastily tugging at the band of your panties. You raised your hips and moaned as he rolled his tongue with yours in a sloppy, heated dance.

You gasped into his mouth as he shoved your underwear down your thick thighs and dismissively tossed them aside. Your eyes widened when he pulled away from your kiss, his lips slick with your combined spit as he quickly rolled your shirt over your shoulders. The corners of Hobie's mouth turned up as he brushed his fingers over your puffy, drenched folds. You squealed as he spread your labia apart with his deft fingers and dipped his head down.

“Such a needy little thing-already soaked and I’ve barely even touched you,” your boyfriend teased. You keened as Hobie rubbed his thumb up and down your engorged clit, your pussy squelching softly as he continued to stroke along your slit.

“H-Hobie,” you keened. He smirked against your cheek before suddenly slipping his hand away. You huffed at the loss of his intoxicating touch, only to furrow your brows as he shifted his eyes to the floor, then back to you.

“Get on your knees, love,” he clarified in a deep, raspy voice. You bit your lip as he shuffled back, allowing you space to climb off the bed. You slid off the mattress and yelped when he laid a sharp smack against your ass, your flesh jiggling at the harsh contact.

"There's that sexy arse I've been missin'," Hobie groaned as he slid his feet onto the floor. You slowly turned around before lowering yourself onto the carpet, your knees sinking into the plush fibers while Hobie stood up.

“Christ,” your lover rumbled as he hungrily eyed your soaked sex and palmed his cock through his briefs. Your heart raced as he grabbed the band of his underwear and slowly pulled it down his lean legs. Your mouth watered when his long cock sprang free and slapped against his dark happy trail, smearing pre-cum all over his pubes. A small whine escaped your throat as your empty pussy pulsed and yearned to be filled.

“Poor thing,” Hobie feigned sympathy as he stroked his shaft. Your mouth watered as he brought the fat tip of his dick to your mouth, a thick bead of precum painting your bottom lip. His eyes glowed with carnal desire as he threaded his long fingers through your hair. “You know what to do, sweet girl: keep that pretty mouth of yours open and cheeks nice and hollow,” he rumbled. You nodded as you rolled your tongue out, the tip of your wet muscle flicking against the lining of his frenulum.

“Shit,” Hobie grunted as he gripped your locks. You moaned as you wrapped your soft lips around the throbbing head of his cock, the salty taste of his precum flooding your tastebuds. Hobie groaned as you suckled on his sensitive tip while you smoothed your hands over the top of his thighs. His grip on your hair tightened with every contraction of your mouth around his length.

“Christ, baby,” he moaned as you swirled your tongue around his tip. You shallowly bobbed your head up and down his shaft while you fluttered your lashes, making sure to give him your best doe eyes. Hobie growled as he released his grip on the base of his cock and squeezed your head with both of his hands. Your eyes widened when he suddenly pushed you forward, shoving his entire cock inside your warm, slick cavern.

You gagged as his tip rubbed against your uvula, some drool spilling past the seam of your lips and dribbling down your chin. “Fuckin’ hell,” Hobie swallowed as he watched you take his cock. You dug your nails into his thighs as your nose became flush with his dark pubes, your throat constricting around his pulsating shaft.

Hobie released a guttural groan as you hollowed your cheeks around his length, his cock twitching deep inside you as he rolled his hips back before snapping them forward. You gagged as he fucked your face with desperate, feral thrusts.

"Open your throat up, lovie," he grunted. Hot tears pricked the corners of your eyes as you bobbed your head up and down his shaft, his heavy balls slapping against your chin while you tried to relax your throat. 

“Yeah, that's it baby-take my fuckin’ cock,” he growled as his brows knit together with pleasure. You kept your cheeks hollowed as you slobbered all over his veiny shaft, more of your warm spit sliding down your chin and neck. Hobie bared his teeth as he used your throat like a fleshlight-fucking your tight airway completely raw with his long, quivering shaft. 

“God, your throat’s so fuckin’ tight,” he hissed as he dug his nails into your scalp. Your eyes rolled back at the slight sting as your pussy begged to be filled and stretched. The wet “plaps” of his cock slamming into your wet mouth echoed inside your small bedroom as you looked up at him. His lips were parted as he panted wildly, his body tensing as trembling with bliss.

"Mouth looks so pretty with my cock in it," he sucked in a sharp breath before throwing his head back. “F-Fuck! I’m close,” Hobie grunted as he fucked your face with quick, sloppy thrusts. You flared your nostrils as you tried to open your throat even more. He released a feral groan as he looked into your glossy eyes, his balls tightening against your chin.

“That’s a good girl: keep that throat open f’me when I-fuck!” he roared as he shoved you down his length for the last time. Your moans were muffled as he shot ropes of his thick, hot cum down your throat. Hobie grunted as he continued to sloppily thrust into your mouth, his warm seed coating every inch of your esophagus. Your boyfriend licked his lips as he watched you guzzle down his spend, his fingers woven through your locks and squeezing them tightly. You resisted the urge to cough and sputter as he let his cock soften inside your mouth. Relief washed over you as he dragged his dick past your stretched, swollen lips. Your throat burned as you curled your lips together before audibly swallowing the last traces of his spend. Hobie sucked in a sharp breath when you showed him your clean tongue.

“Fuck me,” he muttered as he loosened his grip on your hair. You gave him a mischievous grin as you wiggled your hips.

"Did I do well...daddy?" you purred. Hobie's eyes slightly widened at your name for him before his lips curved into a smirk.

“You did good, sweetheart,” he cooed. You gasped when he suddenly tugged your hair and bent his knees a little, his face hovering over your own. “But I'm not done with you yet,” your boyfriend rumbled. You keened as he dragged you to your feet, his lips wrapping around yours in a passionate, sloppy embrace. Your head spun as he pulled your hips against his, your pussy lips grazing over his flaccid cock as he sank onto the edge of the mattress. "Turn around f'me, sweet girl," he purred and rubbed your waist. Your legs shook as you slowly turned around, your plump ass grazing over his lower stomach.

"Hold on," he breathed. You tilted your head as Hobie leaned over to your nightstand and rummaged through the drawer. Your throat tightened when he pulled out your white vibrator with a wry grin.

"Oh, don’t worry. I'm not mad," he chuckled in a low, husky voice. You swallowed as he turned it on, the toy humming to life and sending a spark of pleasure through your core. "In fact, I think it's fuckin' hot you think 'bout me while you fuck your cute pussy open," Hobie murmured, his soft lips dancing over the shell of your ear. You squealed when you felt his cock twitch beneath you, your clit throbbing against the slight contact.

"Now, go on and be a good girl and warm my cock 'til I'm ready again," he muttered. Your toes curled as you nodded. You took a deep breath before grabbing his semi-hard cock and guiding the tip to your weeping entrance. Both of you moaned as you slowly sank down on his length, Hobie's fingernails digging crescents into your plush hips. You mewled at the sudden fullness, the tip of his cock grazing over your g-spot as your gummy walls hugged his veiny shaft.

“Fuck,” you sputtered as waves of pleasure rippled through your core.

“That's my girl-takin' my cock so well,” Hobie praised as he rubbed his palm up and down your thigh. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you fully sheathed yourself on his cock, his length buried deep within your clenching pussy. You barely had time to adjust to the fullness before he suddenly pressed the round tip of the vibrator against your puffy bundle of nerves. Your moans rolled out of your throat like claps of thunder as Hobie bombarded your clit with wave after wave of mind-numbing tremors. 

“S-Shit Hobie!” you keened as you ground your ass against his lean abs. Your boyfriend pecked your cheek as he circled your sensitive nub, his other hand occupied with pinching and massaging one of your hard nipples.

“You feel me down there, (Y/N)? Feel me stuffin’ your tight, needy cunt with my cock?” Hobie grunted as he squeezed your nipple.

“Y-Yes!” you cried as you rolled your hips back and forth, desperate for friction. Your boyfriend smirked against your goosebump-riddled skin as he stroked the toy up and down your juicy slit, spreading the warm arousal across your engorged button.

"Swear this pussy was made f'me," Hobie groaned as your slick walls pulsed against the bulging veins of his shaft. You curled your toes as he drew tighter circles around your sensitive nub, a ring of cream starting to form around the base of his cock. You moaned as Hobie rolled your nipple between his digits even faster.

“Oh shit baby-keep squeezin’ me like that,” he rumbled as he massaged your perky bud and bundle of nerves at the same pace. Your throat tightened as you felt a familiar pressure rise in your core. 

“Feels so good, Hobie,” you whined as you rocked your hips back. You shivered as your boyfriend pressed his lips against your pulse and sucked, his mouth expertly weaving a tapestry of raw hickeys across your skin. You felt every muscle in your lower belly start to wind into a tight, searing knot as the vibrations shot straight to the center of your core.

“Fuck, daddy. I-I-“ you opened your eyes when the pleasurable tremors suddenly stopped. Hobie smirked against your skin as you flared your nostrils. “Hobie please!” you keened as you tried to bounce yourself on his dick. Your boyfriend clicked his tongue as he squeezed your whole breast, drawing a whine from you.  

“Not yet, love,” he murmured with a wicked grin. Your bottom lip jutted out as you felt your orgasm grow further and further from your reach.

“Please please please,” you begged as you threw the back of your head against his shoulder. Hobie sighed contemplatively as he smoothed his thumb over your nipple.

"Alright, but only ‘cause you did such a good job suckin’ my cock," he lilted after a long pause. Your shoulders relaxed when he flicked the vibrator back on and tenderly massaged your nub again.

“Yes,” you moaned and arched your back. You relished in the bliss of the thrumming sensation pulsing against your clit again. You gasped and shivered as he bucked his hips up ever so slightly, his hand roughly squeezing your breast while his hot breath fanned over your neck.

"Keep bouncin' like that, love," Hobie grunted before planting another wet kiss on your pulse. You bounced on his shaft in time with his steady thrusts, your head spinning with pleasure each time your hips smacked against each other.

"Shit, daddy," you keened as your body jiggled with your movements. You felt your walls start to flutter again as your pussy soaked his lap. "So close, I'm-" you snapped your eyes open when Hobie pulled the toy away and shut it off. 

“Hobie!” you huffed as he smirked against your neck.

“Yes love?” he asked with a teasing voice. You frowned and wriggled in his lap.

“Please Hobie, please let me cum,” you begged, the pressure inside you borderline unbearable. You gasped as he grabbed your hips and suddenly pulled out, his cock leaving your pussy with a slick "pop". You yelped as he spun you around and laid your back flat against the comforter. His lips were curved in a dangerous smile as he reached over to the nightstand again, this time attaching a web-shooter to his wrist.

"Hands above your head, pretty girl," Hobie commanded softly. You parted your lips, your pussy growing even more wet at the thought of your wrists being bound by his webbing while he fucked you senseless. You made sure to spread your legs open, giving him a nice view of your cunt as you raised your hands above your head. Hobie grinned as he pumped his cock in his free hand while he held his other hand up with his index, pinkie and thumb out. It wasn't long after a quick "thwip" that the sticky, strong webbing wrapped around both of your wrists.

Hobie shot you a wry grin as his shadow loomed over you. You puffed out a breath of hot air as he lined the swollen head of his cock to your entrance

"Like it when I tie you up like this, hm?" he murmured lowly. You whined and nodded as you raised your hips. "Yeah, that's my good little slut," Hobie rumbled. Your jaw went slack as he grabbed your hips and sheathed his cock inside you in one swift thrust. 

“Oh fuck,“ you choked as the head of his cock slammed against your cervix. You gasped as he started to ruthlessly pound into your pussy, the bed shaking and groaning beneath his rough thrusts. You cried out as your hole was mercilessly stretched wide open, his shaft dragging along your gummy, slick walls with an untamed fervor. Hobie squeezed your love handles as he pulled your hips impossibly closer to his, the tip of his dick kissing your cervix with every thrust.

“Shit baby girl. Pussy’s so fuckin’ perfect ‘n tight,” he rasped as he drove his dick harder inside your greedy sex. You whimpered as you felt his balls slap against your puckering asshole, the sound driving your mind deeper into a lustful frenzy. Hobie squeezed your love handles again as you began to squeeze your eyes shut.

“Eyes on me, love. Wanna see your pretty eyes when you cum all over my cock,” he growled before spanking the side of your thigh. Your flesh bounced as you did your best to focus on his chocolate brown eyes. You whimpered as you felt yourself already nearing the steep edge of your release, your muscles feeling even tighter this time from his edging. You stared directly into his eyes as your walls clenched around his cock in a vice grip, sucking him closer to your womb. 

“H-Hobie, fuck!” you screamed as your hips snapped up. Your vision flooded with white as your body trembled with unbridled bliss. Your walls deliciously pulsed around his shaft as your pussy drenched his cock with your slick cream. You trembled and moaned beneath your lover as your body was caught in the riptide of mind-numbing rapture. “Hobie,” you repeated his name like a sacred prayer as your limbs turned to jelly.

Your boyfriend kept his eyes trained on your face as he knitted his brows, his cock throbbing and growing heavier inside your tight canal.

“Mmm such a good girl-makin’ a mess on my cock,” your boyfriend swiped his tongue across his lips. Your cunt pulsed at his praise as you arched your back. Hobie chuckled before he leaned forward and rested his forehead against yours, his hips spreading your legs apart even further. “Nearly there, love. Gonna drench this pretty cunt with my cum,” he panted as his hands planted on either side of your head.

Your head spun with dizzying ecstasy as your pussy squelched obscenely with each of his hungry thrusts. Hobie's nostrils flared as he groaned and fucked you like a wild animal in heat. You moaned quietly as he slammed his length down to the hilt, his tip shooting streams of his hot cum against your bruised cervix. 

“Fuck,” Hobie growled as he shallowly thrusted his dick forward, pushing his spend against the plug to your womb. Your legs shivered as he sloppily massaged your oversensitive walls with his meaty cock. “Fuck, that’s it,” he grunted as hus breathing stuttered.

You squealed as he gripped your hips while he pushed his shaft inside one final time, plugging up your oozing sex with his soaked girth. Tears of pleasure rolled down your plump cheeks as you felt his cock soften inside your spent, raw cunt. Both of you panted as he slipped his head back, a long, thick string of spit connecting your lips.

“How you feelin’?” Hobie murmured. His question almost didn’t register, your mind still drifting in the afterglow of your release. You caught your breath as your muscles began to relax.

“G-Good. Really good,” you gulped. Hobie smiled before pecking your lips. 

“Good enough for another quick round?” he asked with a glint in his eyes. You raised your brows.

“You...serious?” you asked between breaths. Hobie chuckled as he slowly pulled out of your dripping pussy, his cum dripping down your slit and messily painting the bedsheets. You bit your lip as you watched Hobie glide his hands against the inside of your plump, stretched-marked thighs. He slowly sank to his knees, his mouth watering as he eyed your delicious, cum-stuffed pussy. 

“I know, sweetheart. I just want to return the favor from earlier,” he husked before blowing a puff of hot air across your slick labia. You keened as he pulled your lower lips apart with his thumbs and hovered his mouth over your raw cunny. “That alright with you?” Hobie asked with a half-lidded gaze. You nodded and clutched the blanket again. 

“Fuck, y-yes,” you stammered as you kept your legs spread for him. Your boyfriend grinned before he shifted his gaze down to your engorged clit. 

"Good...been starvin' all day," he murmured. You moaned as he licked a bold, wet stripe up your slit. Your eyes rolled back as he tapped your clit with the tip of his tongue before flattening his wet muscle over your sensitive bud. 

“Christ, your pussy tastes divine,” he murmured before pressing a sloppy kiss over your whole cunt. You moaned and bucked your hips forward as he swiped his tongue against your hole, collecting your combined juices and greedily guzzling it down like a man parched. 

“Fuck, Hobie,” you hissed as he dipped his thick muscle past the tight rim of your hole. Your heart raced as eagerly pumped his wet muscle inside your slick cunt. Your body pulsed with heat as he dragged his tongue in and out, his pace sloppy as he sent sending shivers down your spine.

“Could eat this f’every meal and never go hungry, I fuckin’ swear,” he groaned before slapping your bum and diving back in. You moaned as Hobie indulged in your dripping cunt. He groaned as you ground your hips against his face, smearing your combined juices against his sharp chin. You squeaked when he pinched your thigh right as you squeezed your eyes shut again. “Eyes on me, baby,” Hobie reminded you before licking another bold stripe between your folds. You released a shaky breath and nodded before you gritted your teeth.

“Shit,” you moaned as he painted sloppy strokes up and down your slit. He inhaled sharply as he quickly sucked hard over your bundle of nerves, your clit aching with pleasure. “Oh my God,” you choked as he puckered his plump lips around your clit, his chin grinding against your puckering entrance. You squealed as he tenderly sucked on your button while he massaged your supple thighs. His low moans reverberated deep inside your core, your body shivering as he messily kissed up and down your pussy. Your eyes nearly crossed as he shoved his tongue inside your hole again, his languid thrusts making you gasp and strain against your binding.

“H-Hobie wait! I think I’m about to-“ your voice cut off when he pinched your clit. You let out a silent scream as your legs clamped down on his head, your second orgasm crashing over you in a violent wave of bliss. You wailed and rubbed your cunt against his face as your walls contracted around his soft tongue. Hobie’s eyes rolled back as you drenched his face, his mouth wide open and guzzling down your delectable juices. He rubbed your legs as you whimpered and rode out your orgasm on his lips.

You panted wildly as you felt yourself float back down to earth, your whole being trembling as you blinked away tears of pleasure. Hobie grunted as he slowly dragged his tongue out of you, his eyes glazed over with lust. He glanced at you as he pressed a quick kiss to your folds before leaning over your shivering form, his cheeks sucked in a little. You parted your lips as he lowered himself and suddenly slipped his tongue inside your warm mouth. 

You mewled as the heady taste of your combined juices cascaded over your tongue and slid down your throat. Hobie rumbled lowly as he watched you swallow your spend. His eyes softened before he pulled back and carefully ripped the webbing from your wrists.

“Did so well f’me, sweet girl,” he murmured gently as he smoothed his hands over your hips. You gave him an exhausted grin as he rested on top of you, his tall form draped over your glowing body. You sighed as you wrapped your arms around his back, tracing your finger along every dip and curve of his muscles.

"Need anythin'?" Hobie asked, his lips brushing against your earlobe. You hummed to yourself.

"A bath would be nice," you smile sheepishly. Your boyfriend grinned before he pushed himself up. Your body glowed with warmth as you reached your hand over and cupped his face. “I think you'll have to carry me, though,” you giggled. Hobie chuckled as he smoothed his hands against your sides.

“Anything for my girl,” he murmured softly.

----

Thank you for reading! 💖

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[sooniebby]

ఌ 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐍

꧁ 𝙊𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙭 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ꧂

Teaser ➤ with one lost is the gain of someone greater

Word count › 5k

Rating › NSFT

Warnings › none

Kinks › anal fingering, light nipple play, rimming

(Words to know—

Baobei: baby, affectionate from a parent to child

Ge: older brother (doesn’t have to be related, can be romantic)

Di: little brother

Wangliang: demons, spirits, any malevolent creatures

Jiangshi: hopping vampire that sucks one soul out)

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

╰┈─➤ ＢＥＧＩＮＮＩＮＧ

The soft sound of feet patter against the ground shook a woman awake as she saw her sun run up to her. Her son huffed, face stained with tears as he waited for her to say something. She only sighed as she got out of bed and guided him to the mirror on the small table.

She gently forced him down to a kneel, with her joining as well to be height level with his face. The boy stared straight at the mirror as his mother cleaned up his bruises, taking out any twigs in his hair as well.

This wasn’t the first time this happened. It always happened whenever the boy went out. Whenever he tried to gain his father’s approval.

“I’m pathetic compared to my siblings!” He suddenly blurted out as his mother cleaned up a slit in his lip.

She glared at him. “How can you say that about yourself?”

“He seems to think so! I don’t matter to him. I don’t matter to anyone!”

“You do matter, (Name). Emperor Chu is a very busy man. An important man. Emperor Chu gives you a life many other children dream of. Appreciate it.”

“Papa doesn’t care for me.”

“(Name). You know you must call the emperor by his title.”

“Why? I can call you mama.”

(Name)’s mother sighed as she gently pulled his hair out of the ponytail, allowing it to stay out. She continued to fix his hanfu, making sure it fit his more frail body. He had always been sick. He knew that. The hanfu felt a bit big on him. His sickness only caused him to be stunted in growth compared to other boys.

The shoulders of the hanfu had to be bunched up to not fall off. But his sickness was no shock.

How could it be when his mother herself was known to be weak as a child. She couldn’t play like the other children. Confined to her room as she coughed up blood. It was a miracle she lived so long, even having a baby boy. But it only meant he received her illness.

“Emperor Chu loves you. It may not show but Emperor Chu doesn’t have favorites—loving all of you equally, like a emperor must.”

“But he doesn’t love you equally like his wife.”

“Please, (Name), do not refer to His royal highness so casually. If you get tired of saying Emperor Chu so much, call him by his other titles. I want you to be safe.”

“He’s my Papa.”

“He’s an Emperor first. My Baobei, please, for me.” Her dark hair framed her pale skin beautifully. It was no wonder Emperor Chu chose her as a consort. Such a beautiful woman could only belong to a powerful man. (Name) didn’t understand this well at the age of ten but he knew deep down that his mother wasn’t as lucky as the maids thought she was.

(Name) simply nodded. “Sorry.”

“I’m sorry, it’s important to practice formal speech, Baobei.”

(Name) simply nodded. He didn’t like his life at all. Staying indoors. Being forced to watch his siblings be doted on by his father while he only sends a maid to give him gifts. It wasn’t like the illness was contagious. Many people came near him or touched him and nothing happened to them months later.

This silly illness. It was ruining his life.

ꕥ

“Seventh Prince! Consort Yuying has requested you. Please, get him dress.” A guard said outside his door. The maid in (Name)’s room, Xiulan, got up from her seat on the floor and began to pull out his clothes.

(Name) sat up from his bed, glancing out at the opened doors to the mini courtyard that belonged to him and his mother. Consorts usually got their own sections of the palace. Since his mother was the ninth consort, many expected she’d get the leftovers but her being the prettiest, they had earned the more fancied one. The first consort was the emperor’s wife.

So she wasn’t even truly a consort anymore. She was an empress.

Xiulan motioned for him to get up as she removed his sleepwear, slipping on his hanfu and shoes. He bent down a little for the short woman to pull his long hair up into a bun. No one ever cut their hair. It was the hair from their parents. They shouldn’t disrespect it. Shaving was mostly fine. But (Name) didn’t grow much on his face.

His illness, is what his doctor had said.

“Seventh Prince is ready.” Xiulan stated as she opened the sliding door on their right. The guard there simply nodded and bowed in respect to (Name). The lower class referred to any child of the emperor in terms of when they were born.

(Name) was the seventh son, so he was named the Seventh Prince. He was also the last child. The youngest. It didn’t help that he was also terribly sick most of his nights so almost everyone babied him to an annoying degree.

When he was younger, it bothered him but now, as he felt weaker by the day, it made sense. He could hardly walk far without needing to stop.

He was weak. He needed every ounce of protection they gave him. But he was only sixteen.

His mother…

She wasn’t doing good.

The room she was in was close to the Emperor. It was so he could visit her with ease. She was bedridden most of the time, asleep as her health deteriorated. (Name) didn’t visit her much. He knew it wasn’t good to do such a thing to do her.

She needed to see her only son but he was scared.

To be confronted with the reality that she’s dying.

That he’s dying, too.

“She’s inside, Seventh Prince. I’ll be waiting here.” The guard said, holding his staff close to him. (Name) nodded as he walked inside the room, for the first time in maybe months.

There was his mother, her hair thinning. It was no longer shiny and thick. It was almost breaking off. Her normally beautiful sharp cheek bones looked scary with her skinnier face. She was dying.

(Name) pushed through any sight of distress and walked over to kneel down beside her body. The maids in the room made sure to give a bit of space for him, but hovered around just in case her health took a turn for the worst.

“Baobei…” Yuying sighed, tears streaming down her face. She reached one frail hand up to touch his face, cupping his chubby cheek. A small laugh left her lips. She had missed this. His cute cheeks that puffed out whenever he pouted or stuffed his mouth.

Pouty lips that were turning too pale for her liking. Yuying grunted as she moved to sit up, much to the maid’s dismay. (Name) tried to make her stay down but she somehow pushed him off. Whatever strength she had was still there. She was supposed to be only thirty-five but she looked fifty.

“Baobei, I failed you.”

“No. No. Mama, I failed you. I got so scared to see you. I didn’t want to see you like this but that was so selfish of me. Please, forgive me.” He cried, leaning his head on her shoulder.

Yuying reached a hand into his hair and pulled out his bun, allowing his long black hair to fall out. (Name) pulled away and looked at her in confusion. He watched as she played around with it, a smile on her lips.

“I missed your hair. It was healthier than mines.”

“Mama…”

“Baobei, I don’t have much time left. They’re taking so much from me and I couldn’t stop them. What I have…” Yuying coughed, blood splattered on (Name)’s face but he was too shocked to react.

“No, the doctor said you had a few years left. Please, please. Don’t…”

“Baobei, listen to me. This isn’t a normal Illness. We aren’t sick.”

“What are you talking about Mama?”

Yuying glanced around, as if she was scared someone was watching.

“I’ve called a shaman to help you. He’s been here the entire time, watching you. He told me he’s ready for the attack.”

“Mama, you’re not making sense. Let’s lay down…”

“Baobei!” She yelled, a look of anger in her eyes. “Once I lay down I’m gone. Let me tell you this so you don’t face this fate. My mother came from the Xians. It gave me the ability to see the future with eternal beauty. This caught the attention of many Wangliang.”

“Wangliang…? But they don’t exist. Xians aren’t real. No one could be immortal.”

“Xians don’t just have immortality. But this doesn’t matter, what matters is that your illness is because a Wangliang is feeding off of you like a parasite. And it’s not just one. It’s why you have been getting weaker much faster than I did when I was younger.”

(Name) felt dizzy. He didn’t understand. His mother seemed to know from his face as she sighed.

“Baobei… I have a notebook that’s tucked somewhere in your room. Find it, it’ll give you more insight. But just know, your ability is something stronger than mines. Mines could only grant me ten seconds into the future. Your ability, it seems to deal with your heart.”

“Mama…. Why are you speaking as if today is your last..?”

“It is, Baobei. It’s too late to save me.”

“No. No! This shaman you spoke of, why can’t he save you?!” (Name) yelled, gripping at his mother’s hanfu. She simply smiled at him, cradling his face as she leaned in to press a soft kiss on his forehead.

“There’s only so much you can do for someone as old and frail as me. I used my ability for wrong reasons. I deserve my fate.” She pushed back a lock of hair to place behind his ear. “I’m blessed to say my goodbyes.”

Yuying moved to lay back down on her bed as she smiled up at her son. “I love you, Baobei.”

Then her eyes were closed.

(Name) screamed out as he shook his mother, hoping she would awaken. The maids in the room called out for the doctor, one trying to pull (Name) away from his mother’s corpse but was swiftly pushed away. He cried out in pain, a cry that was never heard from the boy ever in his life.

“Mama! Mama, please!” He chanted, rocking her body back and forth. People rushed into the room but (Name) couldn’t lay them any mind. His mother was gone. His mother, his only true parent was gone.

He was all alone.

Strong arms gripped him tightly and pulled him away from the body, easily subduing him. (Name) weakly fought against the man’s hold but could only whimper out for his mother to wake up. The one day.

The one day he went to see her and she was gone.

The man holding (Name) ended up being Emperor Chu and the Eldest Prince, Laohu who took over once his father had to check the body. (Name) cried in his brother’s arm, holding him close. Despite them having different mothers, they were close.

His twelve siblings all loved him well. Emperor Chu had seven boys and five girls. A good luck that many praised him for. Laohu was much older than most of the siblings. Close to his late twenties by now. He acted as (Name)’s father at this point as Emperor Chu couldn’t bother to be one.

“Ge… Ge!!” (Name) cried, wishing he had died with his mother. He couldn’t continue like this. Not without his rock.

“Di, can you stand?” Laohu muttered.

(Name) didn’t answer. Laohu nodded towards one his other brothers, the Sixth Prince, and motioned for him to help carry him to his room. Sixth Prince, Donghai, helped Laohu carry their younger brother to his room.

The death of a consort, no matter how little she mattered to the emperor, was a devastating loss. Everything stopped as they were allowed to mourn. And it was warranted for Yuying. She wasn’t just a consort.

She was someone to the lower class people before Emperor Chu found her.

She was a light of hope in their dark days.

And now she was gone.

(Name) was never the same after. And neither was his family.

ꕥ

“Di, please, you’ve been through here a thousands times before. You should’ve found it by now if it was truly here,” Donghai said, watching as (Name) once again turned every pillow and blanket to find the notebook his mother had once mentioned.

(Name) glanced at his brother, “Ge, you don’t understand! She said it’d be here for me. She mentioned a shaman!”

“Shamans aren’t people you should trust, Di. Please, you’re already getting more frail,” Donghai grasped his brother’s hand, (Name)’s thin hands looked small against his.

(Name) knew everyone was anxious for him. His mother died earlier than the doctor had estimated. Everyone walked on eggshells, hoping to not awaken to the news that they lost him too. It had been only three years, (Name) was nineteen. But it still felt like yesterday some days.

Donghai was the one worried the most. He was the sixth son but eleventh child. They were only two years apart in age. He had a relationship to (Name) that the other brothers didn’t have.

Laohu and Donghai had a love for him that rivaled his mother sometimes.

The other four brothers didn’t speak much to (Name) but the rare times they did, they cared deeply for him. But they focused more on their positions in the military. Two were twins and one shared the same mother as Laohu. Only four years younger than him. The last one, the Second Prince shared a mother with the Eldest Princess.

She was the first child. But she was never home, having married off to a man in a neighboring state. But whenever Laohu visited, he always told (Name) she was happy.

“I will be fine… but thank you for worrying.” (Name) smiled.

Donghai didn’t looked convinced but nodded.

“Sixth Prince! Emperor Chu has requested you to the throne room!”

“I will see you at dinner.”

“Bye, Ge.”

(Name) waited for Donghai to leave before he continued his search for his mother’s notebook. He wished she had told him where. But all he had to go with is that it should’ve be hidden that no maid could come across it while cleaning.

Xiulan wasn’t going to enjoy having to clean his room after this mess he was making. But he couldn’t worry about that. His mother came first.

He was feeling weaker by the minute and if this notebook could save him, he’d find it. The sliding door open, pausing his search as he looked over to see Consort Yue Lin. She was Laohu’s mother.

(Name) quickly bowed, showing respect to her. The second consort. She was very important to the emperor behind his wife. Many wondered if it was because his wife only gave him a daughter with no sons. It certainly made her seem pathetic in terms of Consort Yue Lin.

“(Name), if I may call you that, how are you feeling?” Yue Lin kneeled down next to (Name), her brown hair pulled into an intricate braid with flower pins holding them place. She certainly dressed as a queen.

“I have had better days, Consort Yue Lin.”

“I lost my mother quite young as well. Not as tragic as you but I know your pain. Laohu loves you. Very much. I think he loves you more than me,” she laughed. “Know that he is someone to talk to. He has reached his thirties. He’s wise. A… a father figure.”

(Name) was shocked that Yue Lin acknowledge the poor parenting skills of an emperor. But she want wrong. Laohu was a father to him. Not Emperor Chu.

“The Shaman…”

(Name) stared at her in fear.

She simply grinned. “I saw him once. He’s hidden himself as a knight very well. But he’s around here. He’s one of the knights that guards the entrance to the gate leading to the forest. However, if anyone told you, I never knew.”

“Yes, of course!”

“As for the notebook, floor.”

“Floor…?”

“Floor.” With a curt nod, she rose up and walked out of the room, subtly pointing at a spot near the closet. The door closed behind her as (Name) rushed over the the closet door and felt around on the ground.

He gasped when one felt loose. With ease, he pulled off one of the floor board to see the notebook underneath. He quickly grabbed it and placed the board back into its spot.

He’d give an excuse to why one of the floor boards were broken. What mattered now was that he got what he had been looking for.

The notebook was mainly a diary. Laying down a timeline of Yuying’s time before she was found at age eighteen by Emperor Chu to become his last consort. By the next year, she was pregnant with him.

She was happy. Stating how much Emperor Chu loved her despite him being near 40s when he impregnated her. It didn’t shock (Name). He knew his father was creepy when choosing the woman he wanted. Past emperors choose their women the first year he was given the title. But Emperor Chu waited.

He waited for each beautiful woman to be ready for marriage and to bear children.

It give him twelve so many didn’t go against him, even if they wondered what he could’ve truly had in common with such a young bride.

“Baobei.”

That voice.

(Name) closed the notebook, right was he was about to reach his mother’s words on the so called ‘Wangliang’. He placed the notebook on the ground and followed the sound of his mother into the forest near his courtyard. (Name) struggled to jump over the fence but was finally able to when something grabbed him.

His head was hurting but his mother’s voice took over. Calling to him. The snow crunched beneath his bare feet as he walked over to wherever his mother was. He could feel eyes on him. Watching him as he walked to his death.

Grief was a powerful thing.

It clouded one’s judgement. They couldn’t think straight.

The trance he was in was gone once he reached the middle of the forest, dressed in a light hanfu, not made for the cold weather. He wrapped his arms around himself as he looked around. The night sky made the usually calm forest seem scary.

Only the moonlight was his light. It shined down on him, as if mocking him for being so foolish. The crunching of snow near him shock him as he turned around erratically, looking to see who was coming close to him.

“Baobei… come to mama.”

(Name) watched in horror as something tall and imposing walked from it’s hiding spot. It was lankey and tall, long limbs that no human could ever have. A white face with dark black eyes, a large sinister smile. Blood was coated on it’s lip as it bent down slightly to level itself with (Name).

“Baobei.” It said in his mother’s voice.

(Name) felt his knees collapse beneath him. He dropped to the floor, staring up at the unknown beast. This was a Wangliang…? It began to laugh, in a voice that belonged to a multitude of people.

It’s jaw unhinged as a long tongue slithered out, reaching over to caress (Name)’s face. He felt himself blank at the gross tongue touching him. Was this how he died?

Donghai… Laohu…

His mother.

He didn’t even get to see the shaman.

(Name) closed his eyes tightly as the Wangliang’s tongue tightened around his throat, leaning down with it’s wide jaw to swallow him whole when a shriek was heard.

The Wangliang cried out with it’s tongue but clean off. Black blood splattered across (Name)’s face, sending him into a quick shocking memory of his mother doing the same on her death bed. He could only stay still on the floor as whoever it was, killed the beast in front of him.

It was dressed in his people’s knight uniform. He swung around a Guandao with ease. A long staff with a sharp curved blade at the end. The Wangliang screamed as it tried to fight back only to easily be killed with a slice at it’s neck.

The head fell down not too far away from (Name) as black blood sprayed out of the corpse, covering the knight’s face and body. But he didn’t seem phased. He only wiped it away with his hanfu and muttered a quick prayer before sprinting over to (Name).

“Seventh Prince! Apologies for being late. I did not notice when you left.”

The knight kneeled down to grab (Name) only for (Name) to jump into his arms. He paused for a moment, wondering if there was something wrong only to see that (Name)’s body trembled in his arms.

“Are you… Are you the shaman Mama was speaking about?”

“Yes. Consort Yuying paid me to protect you. If she caught the Jiangshi before it fully killed you, she thought you will survive. But it isn’t just the jiangshi killing you.”

“I don’t understand.”

The shaman simply hummed. “I do not expect you to understand, Seventh Prince. You do not need to worry much about what is happening. What matters is that you trust me,” he wrapped one arm around (Name)’s waist.

(Name) pulled away from his neck and stared at him, wanting to get a good look at who this man was. His long hair was pulled into a ponytail, giving a clear look at his facial features. Monolids with medium size lips. A prominent nose that was actually beautiful to (Name).

He knew others would possibly view the man as ugly but he couldn’t help the flutter in his heart.

“Do you trust me?” The man asked.

“Your name?”

“… Fa Yichen.”

“That doesn’t seem like you’re real name.”

“It is not. But when you prove yourself to me, I will tell you,” Yichen said, a faint smile on his lips. It looked off for someone to be smiling while their face was splotches of blood but (Name) supposed it wasn’t human blood.

“I’ll call you Ge.”

“I do not deserve such title. Call me Yichen.”

(Name) pouted but nodded. Yichen stood up, holding (Name) in his arms with ease. The man was tall, having to possibly be 6’4 or maybe even 6’6. (Name) wasn’t sure. All he knew for sure was that Yichen had an intimidating stature.

Muscular all around. He put (Name)’s military brothers to shame. (Name) wrapped his arms around his neck, allowing him to carry him back to the palace. His feet were dirty with snow. But he couldn’t feel it well due to the cold.

He just wanted to warm up.

Once they reached (Name)’s room, Yichen placed him down on the bed and immediately went to leave.

“Ge!”

Yichen turned back to face him, “Yichen. I do not deserve such a kind title.”

(Name) grinned. “Sorry, I will not do it again.”

He will do it again.

“Is there anything you need? I can call Miss Xiulan to come clean you.”

“I want you to. We can get to know each other!”

“No.”

“Please!”

“I’m sorry.”

“How can I trust you if you won’t do a simple task?”

Yichen’s eyebrows twitched in annoyance before grunting. “I’ll start the bath.”

(Name) smirked to himself. Perhaps he could get Yichen into the bath with him. Hey, it might been a bit weird to try and get some random man into a bath with him but he wasn’t exactly thinking.

His first time alone with a very beautiful man.

“Seventh Prince, the bath is ready.”

(Name) walked over to the connected bathroom and began to strip out of his dirty clothes. He wasn’t sure how he could explain the blood on them. Maybe that it was paint.

His clothes pooled on the floor around his feet as he glanced over to see if Yichen was watching him. The shaman was looking away with a light blush on his cheeks. (Name) grinned. He wasn’t exactly doing anything with that.

He was just used to being naked in front of maybe people so he forgot not everyone would be comfortable with it. “Apologies. I was raised to not be bothered by nudity.”

“It is no issue. I’ll leave you to your bath.”

“No!”

Yichen stopped himself from leaving.

“Can you wash me? Xiulan does most of the work, I cannot suddenly do it alone.” (Name) said, walking over to the bath as he slipped in.

Once Yichen counted to ten in his head, he turned around to see (Name) fully covered by the water. (Name) grinned as he watched Yichen fumble around looking for the soap. It was different from Xiulan who moved with grace, sliding the soap all over him with ease and the muscle memory.

Yichen was slow. As if he was scared that if he went too fast, he’d tear (Name) apart. It wasn’t an unfounded fear. (Name) was small in every way compared to Yichen. Especially with their sizes.

Yichen’s hand almost covered (Name)’s entire back. And the brief moment they stood close together, (Name)’s head only reached his shoulder. But it was honestly the perfect height for him to just rest his head there if they hugged.

“Ge…”

“Yichen.”

“Why was my mother too far gone?”

“Consort Yuying had been losing her life force to the Jiangshi since birth. They went after her due to her soul being more powerful than any ordinary human.” Yichen reached down to trace (Name)’s chest, the area where his heart was.

“Jiangshi loves souls. The more powerful, the more they want it. It is more of an unfortunate situation that her parents did not know of the Wangliangs that roam the earth.”

“If they had know…”

“Consort Yuying could have lived a fruitful life. But that is the past, we cannot change what has been done. I promised your mother that she could pass with me caring for you.”

“Yes. I’m sorry. I just wish I knew…”

“She was fearful that she’d scare you. That it would have sent you straight into a Jiangshi’s awaiting mouth.”

(Name) hummed as he leaned back into the touch of Yichen. Yichen’s hand that held the rag roamed his body, not touching his legs or anything lower than his stomach. (Name) bit his lip, reaching up to grasp the hand resting on the tub.

Yichen hesitated for a moment before continuing, “do you want to wash your hair?”

“Another time. It’s a process.”

(Name) glanced down at his body, blushing at his hard nipples. Yichen seemed to not notice, really focused on bathing (Name) as if it was his job. It was a bit of a disappointment from his dream but he knew he had a weird imagination.

“Seventh Prince…”

“Yes?”

“I must tell you, sex is heavily influenced in your mother’s kind. The Xians.”

“Those immortal humans?”

“The original Xians were immortal, yes. But your mother’s family was a more muted version of them. You don’t live forever. But to awaken the power at first, a connection to the body is needed.”

“A connection?”

“Please, tell me whenever you are uncomfortable.”

“Yichen?”

A gasp left (Name)’s lips when he felt a tug at his nipples. He arched his back, his head resting on Yichen’s shoulder as he pulled at both nipples. Yichen’s much larger hands cupped his chest entirely. It sent a shiver down his spine.

How could he hands look against other parts of his body…?

“Stimulation is a great way to connect to one’s body. It is the fastest way other than meditation. Next time we can do meditation.”

(Name) did not want to do medication next time.

Yichen’s fingers rolled (Name)’s nipples around, watching every reaction the Prince gave him. In any other circumstance, he would’ve told his client to do it themself.

But he knew (Name). Ever since they were babies.

And he wouldn’t lie that he was physically attracted to him. There was no way he’d get another chance like this. (Name)’s soft whimpering filled in the room as one of Yichen’s hand moved downwards to grip his ass.

The squeak (Name) released, one that reminded him of a cute hamster, was music to Yichen’s ears. Yichen probed at (Name)’s hole, enjoying the sounds from (Name)’s lips.

“I’ll need to take you out of the bath so I can properly stimulate you.”

“Please…”

Yichen easily picked up (Name) and held him close as walked over to the bedroom. He checked to make sure the sliding doors were closed from the courtyard so no cool air came in. With that, he laid down on the floor, keeping (Name) on top of him.

“Relax and let me take care of everything,” Yichen pulled him up to bring his asshole near his lips. It was eye opening to feel something foreign touch his ass.

(Name) gripped at the floor beneath him as he cried out in pleasure as Yichen thrusted his tongue inside. He was shocked at the fact something could fit inside of him. Yichen’s grip on his thighs were tight, holding him close to his body as he explored his asshole.

He felt close. His cock twitching, ready to release. (Name) flinched when he felt something probe at his asshole, a finger this time. He blushed, wondering how Yichen’s finger would feel deep inside. One finger slowly pushed in as he pulled his tongue away.

His one finger was thick, it felt like two. (Name)’s body twitched as he cried out, feeling the finger drag against his warm walls. He clenched around the finger before feeling himself cum. Much to his disappointment, Yichen pulled his finger out and maneuvered (Name) to lay down on his bed.

“Do you feel differently?”

“I feel tired…” (Name) sighed. “But something feels… light…”

“Good. In the morning, we will talk more.” He moved to get up.

“Ge, don’t leave…”

“I—”

“Di! Where are….”

(Name) and Yichen stared at the door showing a shocked Donghai. Donghai glanced at the wet naked body of his younger brother and the strange man’s clothing that had indents of water.

Oh, he was about to kill this man.

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

╰┈─➤ ＥＮＤ

I went off the deep end. I wanted to do some medieval Chinese fantasy and I went too far…

Yichen debut! He’ll be coming back in the far future after I do some requests first! Oikawa fic tomorrow!!

Tag list: @the-ultimate-librarian @chill-guy-but-cooler @mello-life69 @kiiyoooo

Number 1 fan: @rainnyydaysworld

Request by: @kazuhazuuu hope it exceeds your expectations! <3

[brighttears]

I have a request!!

I cannot stop thinking about Joel noticing that the reader leans into his touch but is scared to initiate anything herself. So when he finds out that her ex made her feel insecure for being clingy, he immediately talks with her and tries to tell her how she deserves all the touches she needs ❤️❤️

It's just so sweet!

Joel Miller x f!reader

No physical description, no use of y/n

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: pet names (darling, sweetheart, good girl, baby), a little hot and heavy but no smut, mentions of previous mental/emotionally abusive relationship and reader is not fully recovered, reader’s former relationship is with a man

A/n: Sorry this took so long hope it doesn’t disappoint eeee ! also referring to Joel as ‘boyfriend’ does something to me boy oh boy

—

You try replacing touching Joel with looking at him, listening to him, just trying to soak up everything you can, hoping for something to be enough to relieve the yearning ache you’ve always felt for him. When you first got to the point in your relationship where you could touch freely, it was difficult to hold back—you’d wanted it so much and fantasized about it too often beforehand. When Joel does want physical affection, you give him as much as he’ll take, and you always have the solace of how he holds you every night. Still, you have to reel yourself back in constantly. You’d rather have that than a repeat of your ex, though. Joel is different from him in many ways—he is a better man, a good man, and you know he’s not him, but you can’t shake what your ex had told you, and you don’t want Joel to start hating you for being clingy like he had. So, you keep the dog that drools for him at bay; but as it turns out, the leash isn’t as tight as you thought.

You were at the Tipsy Bison that night, chatting with Tommy and Maria on your way out. Joel leaned against a post with you at his side, already standing close, but then he casually slung his arm around your waist, pulling you to him, brushing his thumb up and down your hip. You were barely able to follow the conversation after that, and when you had to ask Tommy to repeat his question, your boyfriend decided it was time to say goodnight. 

He held your hand the whole walk back, and you once again had to ask him to repeat something he’d said, distracted both by the warmth of his large hand in yours and digs of anxiety about your behavior. When the touch breaks as you enter the house, so over you does a wave of anxiety and shame. You bow your head deeply, trying to hide your burning face, and go straight up to the bedroom. Sitting on the bed, you take your time untying your shoes, trying to mentally prepare yourself for the talk you’re sure Joel is about to give you. You’ve been trying so hard, but you’re still too clingy—freakishly clingy. No one likes someone like that. That last relationship was for two years, and you thought you’d loved him—that is, until Joel came into your life—and he was the one that left. Don’t mess this one up. you scold yourself.

When Joel walks in, causally unbuttoning his flannel, you keep your eyes on your laces, but as he moves, you can tell he’s looking at you. Left in his white tee, Joel folds his flannel up in his hands, then tosses it onto the bed as he sits down next to you.

“I’m sorry,” you begin for him, “it won’t happen again. I can control myself. I’ll be better about it. I promise.” your mind is fogged with anxiety, your chest knotted tight. 

“What?”

You look up at him and his brow is furrowed, but a smile plays at the end of his lip like he thinks you’re joking. You blink. “I mean, like about being clingy, I know I have a problem with it, I’m sorry.” you turn your head back down, closing your eyes and shaking your head, hating yourself. 

“Clingy? When did I ever say I have a problem with you bein’ clingy?”

“Well, I just,” you try to hide frustration in your voice, targeted only inwards, “I know I am, and that I’m just too much with that stuff, and I know that's just like unattractive and I didn’t mean to humiliate you in front of Tommy and Maria like that, I’m sorry I made such a fool of myself and you,”

He interrupts, “Woah, woah, where is this comin’ from, darlin’? Who put all that shit in your head? Cause I know I never said anythin’ like that.”

Afraid of a scowl, you keep your head down as you explain yourself, feeling another pang of guilt in your chest. “Well, my ex, I was really clingy, I mean, I am really clingy, but he, you know, taught me about it.”

“Taught you what?”

“Just that, you know, it’s—bad, and embarrassing when I do it in public, and annoying.”

“Your ex told you all this?” Finally, you look at him timidly. He’s leaning forward with his hands on the bed, looking at you with his brow knit with confusion and concern.

“Well, yeah,” you reply sheepishly. 

“Okay, well first of all, that’s all bullshit,” he chuckles lightly, “you’re not clingy. Clingy’s different. An’ if this is about, you know, touch, I like you touchin’ me.” He nudges you with his shoulder, making you chuckle despite your mood. “An’ this ex a yours, well he’s just one man—actually, sounds more like a boy than a man, talkin’ t’you like that—but just cause he did’n like it doe’n mean no one else does, or that it’s bad. It’s not bad, sweetheart,” Joel shakes his head lightly, “nothin’s wrong with… liking to be touched.”  his eyes travel up and down you and he shifts his torso towards you, supporting one hand on the bed, and with the other, he takes your chin with his thumb and index to angle your rosy face to look at him. “You deserve all the touchin’ you want, baby. If this is what you like,” he moves his hand slowly over your cheek, and you lean into it, “this is what I’ll give you.” Instantly you’re liquid in the cup of his hand, warmth making your eyelids lazy. You let out a sigh, near overwhelmed with, just, Joel. Those big beautiful brown eyes wander over your face and he gently presses his hand into the weight of your head and you automatically lean further into the pressure and warmth. He smirks, “I like you like this.” You giggle, easily with all of you feeling lighter.

Your anxiety has washed away completely. You can be an easy forgetter, but ground easily with Joel. He’s your man, he loves you, he’s always held your body like he needs it. You can’t even fit in a thought of your ex with Joel so close to you, holding the weight of your head, and god, those dreamy eyes on your lips. 

You slide your hand up his forearm and wrap it around his wrist, then turn your cheek just enough to start kissing his palm, keeping his gaze. 

Joels’ eyes flash and then he takes his hand away to take your waist and sits further back on the bed to pull you on to straddle his lap. You yelp and giggle but you’re barely actually thinking, just feeling him. He kisses you tenderly and you smooth your hands up his chest and to his face, lips slow, impassioned, and heavy. You’re on autopilot, letting your body move how it wants over Joel. Joel’s hands slide around to splay on your back and he pulls you into him; it pushes a breathy moan out of you, electricity humming over every inch of your front pressed against his body, warm and sound. Your head is angled over his shoulder and he trades your lips for your neck. The pressure of his hold, feeling all of him right up against you, relieves your ache for him, you feel it dissipate and it escapes out of you in a drawl of his name. At that, he clutches you tighter, and you feel a buzz as he hums into your neck. Then he takes his lips away, making you let out a deep breath, his nose and top lip still ghosting over your skin as he says in a husky purr, “Y’know, you’re not the only one who likes this.” Eyes closed, you let out a breathy chuckle, feeling it move against his body. Joel loosens his hold so you fall back just enough to be able to look at him, his head tilted up slightly to meet your eyes, “So don’t be afraid of touchin’ me, sweetheart.”

“Okay.” You respond, almost automatically—if he ever wants to convince you of something, this would be the way to do it. 

“Good girl.” He kisses you once and then enfolds you again in a tight embrace, you hum a sigh, resting your chin lazily on his shoulder, arms around his broad back, and you want to stay here forever. You skim your hands up and down his back and he sighs deeply. Then, quiet and muffled against you, he says, “God, I want you all over me, baby.”