#I wish I could turn off my brain for like two seconds

[hinaichi]

A vent or maybe I am close to having midlife crisis?? Idk 🤷‍♀️

I am 29 soon to be 30 and as the years go by life seems less colorful? When I was a kid I loved this time of year. It felt like the world magically changed. My parents argued less, my family got along, the apartment was beautiful, the city was beautiful, I had friends to spend time with, and everything felt like a giant hallmark movie without the cheesy romance. People felt genuinely happier but as the years go by that magic feels like it’s dying. No one wants to celebrate and be together. Everyone is easily angered or jaded. Which I get with how the world is but man…

My dad said something yesterday that really upset me. He said let’s not do anything for Christmas because it’s just a normal day, for the record he was always like that he had a terrible childhood.. He said that we shouldn’t bother doing anything or getting together. I cut him off because in part I know it had a lot to do with the recent deaths and extremely sick family members. But I believe that with even more reason we need to spend time together. Even if the meals aren’t as elaborate or extremely cheerful music is playing or mountains of gifts are exchanged. But we honestly don’t know if we will live to see another Christmas or heck even another day. With how the world is at the moment we really don’t know. That’s why we need to cherish these moments and not let that magic and warmth die completely.

I never had seasonal depression but I think as I age it’s either developing or growing idk. I need a therapist or something because this is such a miserable feeling. I earnestly hope and pray next year it doesn’t feel like this.

[hauntingblue]

Gear 5 luffy's laugh is so contagious I just hear the drums and go insane how does this work. What did he do to me

[scientologisabethmoss]

well after a very gratifying week in nashville i finally got some tough feedback, and on my last night in the city. :-( the head of the open mic i just played told me that a) i should learn my song better and b) my song is far too long at 3 minutes and 40 seconds and that i need to shorten it in order to be successful with publishers. i think i’m gonna walk into the cumberland river now.

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

Pretty Boy | s.r. x fem!reader

a/n: you know i had to do something for glasses reid i’d be crazy not to.

“oh, here comes your pretty boy. capital p and b.” derek’s smooth voice entered your shared office with jj. you didn’t bother asking who, even coyly, he would just say something along the line of “your other half, pretty girl.”

so you rolled your eyes while scanning over a case file, not bothering to direct attention to the man. “and why the need to visit my space?” a teasing reply, both knowing his visits to the double liaison office were once in a blue moon.

there was the sound of shuffling before derek responded, “cause i wanna see your reaction.” such a vague answer that it caused you to pick your head up with a quizzical look, “what are-“ and you stopped when spencer poked his head through the cracked doorway.

“hey y/n, i brought you…” you didn’t hear the rest of his sentence. eyes too focused on spencer’s face and the new wardrobe attire perched along his nose.

your heart beat fast in your ears and you could feel your body warm in temperature. it was like you were sent back in time to high school and spencer was the insanely smart, pretty student ripped right from your fantasies. you hoped you weren’t drooling at the sight.

“y/n? you alright?” spencer’s voice was much closer now and when you blinked he was directly in front of you with the back of his hand to your forehead and a frown on his face. derek’s chuckles filled the crowded space and you couldn’t even manage a side eye.

“you feel warm. you didn’t happen to catch anything from the last case, did you?” full concern with round puppy eyes shining behind black frames. your heart was the picture of a popsicle melting on a hot summer day.

you took a swallow, “not- not that i know of.” eyes honed onto a freckle placed to the left of spencer’s chin.

derek laughed again, “ease up on her, pretty boy.” he moved closer and stood behind spencer’s left shoulder, a smug expression painted on his chiseled face.

“i’m just checking if she’s physically well.” spencer’s voice got high from defending himself and his actions while glaring at derek.

derek then jerked his chin at your sheepish expression, “well it’s declining each second you’re in her space.” joking at the expense of your crush, but spencer took it the wrong way and pulled his arm back to his side. “sorry, right boundaries. should’ve asked first.”

you managed to bounce back when he started moving away, “no! no, it’s- derek’s just joking. i- i don’t mind you touching me.” and it took two, two seconds, for your mind to process your wording.

“oh this is a great morning.” derek howled then decided he’s seen enough, leaving both of you hot and pink cheeked.

squeezing your eyes shut you wished for the floor to swallow you hole and drag you away from this situation. “i’m- i’m sorry… about that. bit- bit scattered brained right now.” trying to play everything off.

“you- you sure you’re alright? i’m certain hotch will let you leave early.” spencer’s brows pinched in the middle turning his face into more of a pout. oh he has no idea the effect on you.

you smiled gentle at his worry, “i’m well, just been staring at potential cases too long, that’s all.” fingering at the edge of the manilla folder in your lap.

“also i like the new look,” circling a finger around your eyes to play charades with him than just mention the holy glasses. “they suit you nicely.” friendly but said with a hint of flirty.

spencer’s smiled widened and his cheeks turned from bubblegum pink to a rosie hue, oh how you wish to just cover him in thousands of kisses. “thanks. i ran out of contacts for the month so i’m stuck with these until then.” making it sound like an inconvenience, but oh how you were gonna suffering for a month of those handsome frames.

you turned your head away before you were caught staring for too long and saw a baby pink bag sitting beside your picture frames. you reached out to grab it then pulled it apart to see a sweet morning treat awaiting for your teeth to sink in. “did you bring this?” asking spencer since you then remember that he said something when arriving but you didn’t hear what.

spencer straightened up and happily beamed, “yeah! i was walking past that pastry shop you like and thought you’d enjoy something for all your hard work.” you both knew that was a straight lie since that pastry shop is an extra ten minutes out of either of yours work routes.

but you didn’t comment on it just looked spencer in the eye and said softly, “thank you, spence. you’re very sweet.” and with a sudden boldness you leaned forward to press a delicate kiss onto his right cheek.

pulling back you noticed spencer’s lips were slightly parted, he looked almost winded from the sudden action. you were gonna apologize if you over stepped but then jj entered her office with derek trailing behind.

“uh… hi.” she stopped two steps inside then saw the way you both fidgeted to appear normal. as if you were doing something you weren’t supposed… “hi, welcome.” “everything normal here.” you and spencer talked over each other.

“okay, not even gonna ask…” waving a folder about, “but i found a case and hotch approved so into the conference room for debriefing.” jj gave both of you a final stare then walked around derek to flee the scene.

“come on pretties, you can smooch later.” “derek!”

[luveline]

Hi Jade! I absolutely love your writing, especially when you write for Eddie or Steve. Love these two. I was wondering if you could write about an insucure reader who has been rejected a lot and doesn't believe it when someone actually starts loving her for who she is. I'd love this with either Eddie or Steve . You can choose who you want to write for. If you don't wanna write something like this, that's fine too. Just know that I love your writing!

ty for requesting!! —you have a hard time believing eddie loves you, but he does. fem, 1.1k

“Oh my god.” 

Eddie freaks you out when he talks like that. His voice turns hoarse, almost grainy, like he’s in shock, or he can’t get a grip. 

“That’s what you’re wearing?” he asks. 

“It’s not alright?” you ask, looking down at your outfit. It’s just jeans and a chunky cardigan. He sounds like he loves it, but your brain goes straight to worry anyhow. 

“No, not alright.” He leans back against your pillows, his arms behind his head and his biceps doing something cruel against his shirt sleeves. “Not alright at all. Do a spin?” 

You shake your head severely. 

“Doll,” he says, pouting gently. “Please?” 

“No, if it looks bad, I’ll change,” you say. 

“It doesn’t look bad! I’m kidding. You look the opposite of bad, so do a spin!” 

You love his voice and the way he talks, and you love him —though of course he doesn’t know it— so you end up doing a slow spin for him in your bedroom. You’ve buttoned the top button of your cardigan and it’s a very static movement, but he oohs, ahs, and sits up quickly. 

“Yeah, you look fucking beautiful.” 

“Boo,” you mumble. 

“Just as I suspected you would.” He gestures you forward. “Wait, come over here a second.” 

Eddie says wait as an act of persuasion, or a white lie; he makes it sound as though there’s something urgent afoot, but there never is. He grabs your arm when you’re close enough, then your back, looking up into your face imploringly. “I just wanted to look at you.” Being held like this warms you from the inside out. His hand scrunches your cardigan and shirt, the other bringing your arm to his chest. “But you guessed that.” 

“No, I…” You smile in a flat line. “You’re sure I look good?” 

“Of course I am. I was kidding,” he says, softer now. “You know? I was being sarcastic, because you look that good it’s crazy to imply you look bad. I promise.” 

You sit down on the bed beside him. 

“You look so pretty,” he says. 

You nod as a strange ache blossoms in your throat. “Sorry,” you say, wishing you could explain it to him. You weren’t always scared of what people are thinking, but past dismissal has left you off kilter, and now he’s paying the price. 

“For what, angel?” he asks, though he’s not waiting for an answer. “You’re…you do look beautiful, you do, I’m not messing around. Well, I was. But I’m not now, so don’t be sorry, and don’t worry. I love this stuff, I fucking love the jeans, you have nice thighs,” —he laughs at your tired sigh— “and I love buttons. These buttons are great.” 

You let your cheek rest gently on his arm, still laughing. He’s such a sweetheart when he wants to be, but he’s not half as cool as he thinks he is. He’s too earnest to be a bad boy. “Thank you.” 

“I love you.” 

You shake your head. Eddie’s wrapping his arms around you, pulling you closer, face encouraged into his neck. “I do,” he says gently. “I’ve told you before, haven’t I?” 

“Yes.” 

He brings his hand to the back of your neck. “Mm. And have I given you any reason to think I’m lying?” 

“I don’t think you’re lying, I just think that… that I… you know.”

“I know. Doesn’t make it true.” He sounds a peculiar mixture of sad and happy at once. Find concern, perhaps, or loving derision. “I love you, and I’d love it if you walked around in bobbly sweaters and clogs. I don’t care what you wear, ‘cos it’s you.” 

“There’s nothing even that good about me to feel that way for.” 

“You don’t think so, but I do.” He turns his face down to you and presses the bridge of his nose to your temple. 

His t-shirt smells like clary soap. You curl your hand into the front of it, the soft wall of his abdomen underneath a familiar comfort. He hugs you tighter still. Eddie’s told you he loves you a few times, and you’d thought that when a guy finally felt the same way about you, everything would be fixed, you could say it back and live happily ever after, but it hasn’t worked out that way so far. Every time he tells you he loves you, you’re paralysed by the idea that he can’t. But then he holds you like this and you start to wonder if he’s telling the truth. 

He kisses the side of your face. “You okay?” he asks, kissing you again to punctuate. 

“Yes. Yeah.” You work your arms behind his back and squeeze him. 

Eddie encourages your head back carefully. He meets your eyes; all you can see is his irises, deeply brown, and his long lashes where they tent together. You’re too close to see his lips, but you can sense that he’s smiling from the warmth in his eyes and the slight droop of his eyelids. 

“Kiss?” he murmurs. 

You hum a yes. Eddie nudges your nose with his until there’s space to kiss you, your lips pressed tight and then less so, a dance of sweet kisses. You relax under his touch, the physical evidence of his affection, so totally that your back clicks. He smiles into your mouth but pulls away, too tempted by the opportunity to make a joke. 

“You need a masseuse,” he says, bringing his hand to your cheek. 

“No, I don’t.” You can practically see the steam radiating off of your cheeks. 

“You totally do. I could give you a massage, babe. I’m really good.” 

“No… we’re going to the movies.” 

“See, that sounds like you do want one. I can give you one later.” 

You look at him for too long, his brows pulling together in concern, but it’s nothing he has to worry about. “Love you,” you say quickly, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him in for another hug. 

His arm stutters at your side. “I love you,” you correct. The ‘I’ is important, especially when he’s never heard it from you before. It’s easy to love someone so patient, and so funny. 

He hugs you tight and sudden. “Yeah,” he says, “I love you too.” His watch digs into your spine. You don’t tell him. It’ll probably bruise, but you just don’t care. It’s nice to be loved fiercely. 

[crxss01]

— I Love You, Miles, But You’re Not Mine.

pairing ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ 42!miles morales x reader

summary ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊ miles doesn't do dating so you have to settle for just being classmates in public and having extra benefits in private.

warnings ✧˖ ° angst, hurt/comfort, cursing, possessive miles, making out, mature themes, miles is bad at feelings and expressing them, cheating (not really, and not on reader: don't do this to people).

m. list, main m. list.

translations ✧࿓☾ muñeca: doll, bonito: handsome/pretty boy, nos vemos luego: see you later, mi princesa: my princess.

of course it had been a bad idea.

agreeing to have a no strings attached relationship with miles was the worst decision you had ever made in your life, you said to yourself that you wouldn't fall for him but you were just lying to yourself.

but the worst part was that you didn't regret accepting, even if the situation was breaking your heart little by little. you didn't even try to end it when you realized you were falling for him which was your second mistake.

you remember the first time miles noticed your feelings for him, something you would never forget about. it was four months ago...

your heart aching as you watched miles flirt with some girl from his class. smirking at her in a way that he used to smirk at you when you first met, sweet talking her like he used to sweet talk you, and calling her mami like he called you.

he still did all of those things with you, but it wasn't as usual anymore. everything changed since the first night, miles would only call you when he needed you and would be there if it was the other way around.

miles must have felt you staring because he looked your way and his gaze turned hard, it made shivers run down your spine. with an eye roll he nodded at the janitors closet, making sure that it wasn't obvious for the girl in front of him.

you nodded at him to let him know that you got the message and made your way there, after just standing outside of it to be slick about it you went inside, closing the door behind you and taking a deep breath in.

"don't let this be what i think it is..." you mumbled, closing your eyes.

after a few minutes, miles came in and locked the door. his stare was unreadable and you were scared of that. he definitely knew.

"you and me are not in a relationship." he went straight to the point, stating the obvious.

"okayyy..." you dragged out pretending to be oblivious. "i know that.”

"so why the fuck are you staring at my girl so hard like that, huh?" he asked. "i don't belong to anybody, so don't try that jealousy shit with me."

of all the things he said your brain only focused on two words. "your girl?"

"not yet, but she's pretty cute. my mom has been nagging me about getting a girlfriend so to stop that for a little while, i'll get one." he shrugged.

"what about me?" you asked confused, you didn't really know what your question was. what about not choosing you to pose as his girlfriend or what about the (sort of) relationship you two had? he once said he didn’t do dating so what was this?

unlucky for you, he only answered the first two.

"i don't want one my flings to meet my mom, and we can keep going with this." miles said like it was nothing. "i don't have feelings for that girl i just find her attractive."

the way he called you a fling hurt more than anything, but it was true that was what you were. just a fling, nothing more. it was sick, but it comforted you to know that he didn't have feelings for that other girl.

"okay." you nodded.

"so we clear on those feelings of yours?" he asked, eyes narrowed.

"yes."

"just yes?" he raised an eyebrow.

"yes, bonito."

"good." miles then slammed you against one of the walls of the closet, starting to kiss you. "then let's do what i wanted you here for, muñeca"

...the memory was not a nice one and you wished you could just forget about it, the girl and him weren't even together anymore.

they broke up after three months of dating, but the way he showed her off in public and the way he spoiled her was so real that you had doubts about him not having feelings for her at all. then again if he did had feelings for her he wouldn't have called you every other night to be with you.

you were considering ending it during those months that they were together but it was impossible because the words got stuck in your throat the moment you saw miles so your situation with him stayed the same.

but now you were ready, this would be the last time.

"what are you thinking about?" miles asked as he stood up from your bed, looking for his shirt and pants that now laid somewhere on the floor of your bedroom.

"i want to end this, miles." you said, sitting up and pulling the covers to your bra clad chest.

"mhm?" he hummed, not even turning to you and pulling his pants on.

"i can't do this anymore." you said, your eyes filling with tears.

"why?" he finally turned to you, and his eyes had something that you couldn't put your finger on which was not surprising considering miles was not someone who was easy to read.

"you hurt me, this—" you emphasized, tears cascading down your cheeks. "—this hurts me. you know how i feel about you yet you had made no attempt to end it when you clearly told me that you would end it the moment you noticed any romantic feelings from me."

"i did say that." he confirmed, acting nonchalant.

"then why haven't you? this feelings grow stronger the longer we stay together like this, you also said that." you stood up from the bed, now the tears were from anger more than sadness.

"you were a good lay, i didn't want to leave you 'cause of that."

you didn't know what came over you but you walked over to him and slapped him, hard.

"get out." you said, wiping your tears. you were not about to cry any more for him at least not in front of him.

"alright." miles simply said and grabbed his shirt off the floor along with his shoes, leaving your bedroom through the open window.

"don't ever come back!" you yelled after him and slammed the window shut, locking it.

you threw yourself on your bed, grabbing a pillow and crying into it..

spring break came to an end and you couldn't be more miserable, of course you couldn't be happy (or at least in peace). you just had to see his stupid, arrogant and handsome face at school.

"hey, gorgeous." you smiled, turning to marcos, one of the guys from your class.

"hey, marquitos." you said back.

"you okay? you look a little off." he showed concern.

this is what you appreciated about him even though you hadn't spoke much like you two did before you got involved with miles, marcos still cared for you. he was a sweet boy, rich and a total nerd which got him to get picked on sometimes and one of those times you defended him and after that you had become fast friends but it has been a while since you last spoke to each other.

"i have missed you." he admitted when you didn't answer.

"same." you agreed, in reality you haven't given him much thought. those were occupied with someone else.

"let's hang out this week or weekend, like we used to." he offered.

"absolutely." you agreed again, wanting something to distract you from thinking about miles. "how is that confession coming on?" you asked him when the bell rung and you both started to make your way to class.

"horrible, i don't know how to confess in a way that doesn't sound corny." marcos lamented. "i'm pretty sure she's going to reject me anyway, you know how she is."

"practice on me, i will let you know if it's corny or not." you suggested.

"that's actually a good idea." marcos nodded, excited. he was like a child like that. "maybe during lunch? i kinda don't want the whole class to hear me practicing how to confess to someone."

you laughed at that which also made him laugh as you both walked in through the door to class. your laughter died down the moment your eyes met the pair that belonged to miles, he had a hard look on his face, one you weren't familiar with.

"come on, let's sit together." marcos, pulled you to the two seats table at the far end of the room right next to where miles was sitting.

you did your best to ignore him even though you felt like he stared at you a couple of times but you assumed that was just wishful thinking.

you couldn't even remember the last time you actually had fun in a class, you were really glad that you were back to talking with marco and grateful that you two had all the same classes.

"this question is so stupid, listen.." he went on to read the question but the way he said was so not funny that it made you laugh.

"can you two stop? i'm trying to concentrate." the sudden harsh voice made you jump and you turned in your seat, looking at miles who was glaring at you and marcos.

"sorry, man." marcos apologized. "my bad."

"yeah, your bad." miles scoffed.

marcos put his hands up on defense and looked at you, his eyes showed that he was trying not to laugh and it made you smile.

after the first class all others went the same way with marcos walking with you to class like you two used to and making you laugh your ass off the only exception was that miles wasn't there to tell you both to keep it down since you only had the first class with him.

"no, but like seriously. she actually said that?" marcos asked for the fifth time, sitting next to you in the spot that you both liked to call the f.h.b.b.v.a.o, for the hottest bitches in brooklyn visions academy only. it was located in a deserted area and that's what marcos and you loved about it.

"yeah, she did." you nodded.

"i still can't believe that."

"me neither, but you know what they say." you shrugged.

"gotta expect the unexpected." you said at the same time then let out a chuckle at that.

"so, now that we are here." marcos clapped his hands together. "hear my confession out."

"it better be good." you pointed at him with your fork.

"hey! i have you here for constructive criticism, don't insult it before i even start." marcos defended himself.

"ok, ok." you put your hands up in defense.

"okay, listen." he took a deep breath, collecting himself. "i have liked you for sometime, and i have been meaning to tell you this but you were just so difficult to approach. i like everything you do, the way you laugh, the way you smile, your jokes even though they are terrible—"

"are you trying to confess or push her away?" you stopped him. "do better."

"but how?" marcos groaned, letting his head fall back.

"like this," you straighten up. "i like you and i honestly think you knew that because of the way i look at you," you laughed, yeah maybe he didn't need to add that. "the point is that i was wondering if you wanted to go out with me sometime?"

"that's perfect!"

"nah, it's really not." miles' voice cut in and you turned your head to the side to throw a glare at the boy.

"what do you want?" you snapped at him.

miles didn't answer instead he took hold of your elbow and pulled you up from where you were sitting, grabbing the back of your neck in his hand and pulling your face closer to his until your lips connected.

for a moment you got lost in the kiss, having missed miles for the rest of the spring break. the taste of his lips was a sweet one, demonstrating false innocence and giving hopefulness to anyone who got a taste of them but you knew better. the mouth might be sweet, but what came out of it was nothing but bitter.

then you snapped out of it and pushed him away, trying to shake your arm out of his grip on it but it was futile. marcos looked back and forth between you and miles with wide eyes.

"let go of me, you have let it be known really clear what i was to you already." you told him.

"leave." miles told your friend. "now." he added when marcos didn't attempt to move.

"it's okay, marquitos." you assured him. "you can go."

the boy looked skeptical but he nodded and left, leaving you alone with miles.

"so what do you want?" you asked him. "came to repeat what you said?"

"i know what i said, mami." his eyes now revealed guilt a look you have only seen once before, after he had cursed out his best friend ganke when the boy had found you in a compromising position in their dorm. "and i'm sorry, i really do. i have just been overwhelmed with this feelings and i didn't know what to do."

"what feelings? the ones you had when you told me i was just a good lay?"

"no, i.." miles sighed. "i regret saying that more than anything, i just don't know how to handle what i feel for you. i even got that fake girlfriend to see if i could forget about you, but it was impossible and she could see through me and immediately knew i was just trying to get over someone but she was also doing the same so she didn't say anything. you are on my mind twenty four/seven, when i see a couple all i think about is how we would look like in their place. when i see you smile, i think that you are the most beautiful girl in this world. when i hear you laugh, i think that it is the most beautiful sound in this earth. when i see you too close with someone else, i think about how i should be in their place. when i'm not with you, i long to be with you. when we argued and i saw those tears running down your face it felt like the whole world was coming down and that it was my fault, i felt like i didn't deserve you. you are too good for me so i pushed you away."

through the whole speech you stood there quietly, your brain processing every single word he just said. the confession was like something out of a movie and so not what you expected, miles morales opened up to you and you still couldn't believe it.

the fact that the fake ex girlfriend knew of his situation with you baffled you, all this time you had felt horrible for being the side piece but she had been aware and had been okay with it.

"but i kept thinking about the last thing so much that i spoke to my mom about it. she told me that the only way i wouldn't deserve you is if i don't admit the way i wronged you and apologized for it because according to her i deserve the world. and in my books, you are the world." miles let go of your elbow and grabbed your face in his hands. "can you give me a chance? i would do anything for you to forgive me."

"i didn't deserve that." you finally spoke up.

your emotions were all over the place, you felt excitement, anger, sadness, and fear. scared of what you might decide if he kept insisting about you two being together.

"i know, and i'm willing to wait for you. what i feel for you is something i have never felt for anyone and if you take forever deciding if you want to give me a chance then i will wait for you forever." miles wiped a tear that escaped you eye away with his thumb. "i never want to see you cry for me again."

"yeah, i need time." you nodded. "i can't do this right now." you said, you weren't in your right mind to answer his question. your thoughts were plagued with what he said to you that night, but the confession was making you consider. "just give me this week to think, and it will be better if you keep your distance."

"alright, i can do that." miles nodded, then looked deep in thought before speaking again. "so what was that between you and marquitos?" he said the nickname with disgust.

"don't start," you glared at him, your face still in his hands. "i was just teaching him how to confess properly."

"mmh." he hummed, then moved on of his hands to place a kiss on your cheek. "talk to you next monday then?"

"yeah," you nodded.

"just yeah?" he raised an eyebrow.

"don't push it."

miles smiled and it surprised you since it wasn't a smirk. his smiles were rare and they were mostly reserved for his mom, you knew that because sometimes she would call when he was with you and he answered with a smile on his face each time, so it being directed to you had you feeling butterflies for him all over again.

"nos vemos luego, muñeca." he placed one final kiss on your cheek before walking away.

you watched him go and noticed how there was a little hop to his steps which made you smile, a hand coming up to touch your cheek where he had kissed you.

this type of affection was unusual from him, he only ever kissed your lips never anywhere else. it made your smile even bigger, your decision had been made the moment he kissed your cheek, but you still wanted time in case you changed your mind.

the days went by quickly and suddenly it was monday again. you were nervous because what if you approached miles and he didn't want anything with you anymore? maybe you should wait for him to approach you?

"just go to him." marcos told you, the boy had demanded to know everything between you and miles after your encounter in front of him.

"but what if he laughs right on my face and says it was all a big joke? you do know he doesn't do dates and stuff." you reminded marcos.

"didn't he date that one girl from his class?" marcos asked, he clearly knew the answer to that question.

"that was different, he said that it was—" you stopped talking, remembering the real reason.

"exactly. it was all to forget you but look at that, he couldn't and wants you so..." he pointed across the cafeteria to where miles was sitting, airpods in and doing something on a notebook, probably sketching.

"no." you shook your head. "i can't do this." your head came down on the table, forehead hitting it way too hard and you immediately picked your head back up holding onto your forehead. "ouch, that hurts."

"good, crazy ass." marcos shook his head and pushed his seat back. "i'll fix this thing."

"how?"

your eyes widened when you saw your friend making his way to the table where miles was, you wanted nothing more than for the earth to open up and swallow you whole. what is this boy thinking?

the two of them exchanged a few words and marcos pointed at you making miles turn his head in your direction and you waved awkwardly, maybe you should get this done now.

miles nodded at whatever marcos told him, picking his stuff up and standing, making his way to you.

"hey, mi princesa." he said, taking a seat next to you.

marcos gave you a thumbs up and sat on the table where miles had been.

"hey," you said back. "so, obviously i made a decision."

"what did you decide?" his eyes looked hopeful and you were so glad he had dropped that cold front he always put in-front of everyone, his unreadable eyes were not unreadable anymore at least not to you.

"i want to give a relationship with you a try." you spoke after a moment. "but i want to take things slow, like maybe get to know you more. i realized that i don't really know a lot about your personal life."

"of course, anything you want. i'll tell you everything." the smile on his face was enough to lighten up your day, a matching one making its way onto your face. "so how about we go on a date after school?"

"we don't have permission to go out." you told him.

"then we escape, i just want to have a nice afternoon with my girl. they can't punish us for that." he shrugged.

you laughed, you should've expected that offer. "of course."

"is it too early to kiss you?"

"not on the first date." you shook your head putting on a fake serious face. "maybe on the twentieth one."

"i'll wait for the hundredth one if necessary."

you smiled softly, you loved how much effort he was putting into this even though he had never had a serious relationship before.

"i can kiss your cheek though, right?"

you bursted out laughing and he took that opportunity to grab you and leave multiple kissed on your cheek.

"i like you so much..." he said as he continued to attack your cheek.

"i like you a lot too." you said back, trying to push him away even though you actually didn't want the moment to end.

"not more than i do." he argued, placing his forehead on top of your own.

"i fell first, though. so i think i like you more."

"you did fall first, but i fell harder so i win.”

taglist: @anikaluv @janaeby @queerponcho @laylasbunbunny @onginlove @all444miles @banqnaz @fiannee @sp1dercunt

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ reblogs are really appreciated!

[zriasstuff]

Underwater fun-Mattheo Riddle x fem!reader smut

Warnings: 18+ mature fanfic, includes sexual activities (him pleasuring you in public)

“What do you think you’re doing”, you whisper to Mattheo while both of you are standing in the black lake, seemingly just chatting in the water. The cold water went all the way up to your collarbones, so much that you could still stand, but not very securely. It made you feel a little wobbly on your feet.

You had asked Mattheo that question because you felt his knee creeping up higher, almost touching your lower private area now. His leg fit perfectly between both of yours.

“Matty, whatever it is that you got planned-”

“Just enjoy the water, won’t you”, he responds teasingly, interrupting you mid sentence.

His smirk indicated to you that you were about to enjoy a lot more than just the apparent water. You gradually realized that he had envisioned something very risky in his mind.

Mattheo’s knee between your legs was now placed so perfectly, that whenever you even moved in the slightest, your cunt would automatically rub against it. He even held you tightly by your waist, so that you couldn’t get away from him.

It was surely his intention, for you to get loose, to get you all riled up. Aware of the rather public situation, you spin around to make sure no one was watching.

“Don’t be shy darling, no one is watching”, he baits you once again, not even hiding his desire for you to get off on him. When you wouldn’t indulge, he props his knee even further up, making it directly touch your cunt.

Without it being your intention, one shift of your position suddenly made you feel a wave of brain melting pleasure. The strong pressure on your clit started to feel a little too good. It felt nasty to practically grind against his hard knee, like some touch starved, pathetic slut.

But the more you rubbed against him, the needier you got, feeling yourself get wetter in the process.

“Enjoy yourself princess?”, he cockily asks. He knows exactly that within seconds you’d be begging for him to make you cum.

Mattheo had always had this persuasive aura around him. Whatever he set his mind to, he would achieve. Of course he knew your limits, but that doesn’t mean he couldn’t push them a little for fun.

“Please Mattheo, want more”, you moan quietly, while desperately aching for more friction to please your throbbing cunt. You never imagined it’d feel so good to grind on his knee, so good that it turned your cunt into such a wet mess.

He somehow always managed to get you craving his touch, whether it was his cock, fingers, or even knee now.

“Well, since you asked so nicely”, he granted you your wish, and within seconds his knee was replaced by his hand. Wasting no time, he smoothly slid two fingers inside you. Your soaking wetness had allowed him easy and quick penetration, and he felt your cunt sucking him in with its tightness.

“Look how wet my princess is”, he coos, “I told you you’d have fun”. That cocky look on his face was provoking all the more impure thoughts. You imagined what it would be like if there were no people around. How he could then fuck you in the water, have you get high on his cock. You wish everyone would just magically disappear.

The way his fingers stretched your aching cunt wide open almost made you reach your climax right then right there. They kept exploring your walls from every possible angle, brushing against every spot. His thumb additionally circled your clit to create even more simulation, so much you couldn’t hold in the sinful moans that escaped your mouth anymore.

You’d gotten used to how good Mattheo was with his fingers ever since you started dating, but this time, the possibility of being caught made it all so much more exciting. That meant you’d really have to try to not draw everyone’s attention on your public sexual cadaver.

“Can’t even keep your mouth shut anymore huh”, Mattheo points out. You bit down hard on your lip and tried to keep a neutral face to not raise any suspicions.

Knowing that he had such a delicious effect on you, he tried all the more to get you cracking and get caught. It didn’t matter because everyone could then see that you were his, and that only he could get you all riled up like this in the water.

His finger thrusts were becoming quicker and viciously hit your sensitive spot, causing you to struggle to keep still in the water. Your legs were squirming around and firmly clinging onto his leg, and your nails kept digging into his torso. All so you wouldn’t lose balance.

“Plea- Please, go slower”, you whine, not sure how much more of this you’d be able to take without exposing yourself.

“What was that, you want it faster?” Mattheo got extremely turned on watching you barely being able to keep it together. He was this close to pushing you over the edge right now. His fingers continued going in and out of you at an ungodly speed, solely focused on your pleasure. Meanwhile his cock was begging for some friction too, the bulge becoming clearly visible through his swimming shorts.

At that point, the rough fingering was becoming too much, and you felt your rushed climax approaching. “Fuck, ‘m gonna cum”, you whimper.

But all of a sudden he pulls his fingers out. The sensation was gone. While he was licking his fingers clean with a smirk plastered on his face, you were desperately clenching around nothing anymore. “Mattheo, please make me finish”, you impatiently beg him. He couldn’t just leave you hanging like this, after all he’d started it.

There was nothing more that you wanted right now, than to have him stroke your sweet spot repeatedly, to have his fingers torturing you into orgasm after orgasm. It didn’t matter anymore that you were in public, all you wanted was him.

“Sorry darling, party’s over”, and with that you saw everyone leaving the lake to get dressed and go back to your dorms. Awfully convenient you thought.

Seeing from Mattheo’s devious expression, you realized his goal was to leave you feeling unsatisfied all along, so you would be even hornier later on.

And just like he predicted, his mischievous plan succeeded. At least you were sure that he was going to make it up to you back in his dorm.

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer Park Steve AU part 6

part 1 | part 5

October

It's Wednesday night, which means dinner at the Hendersons. Steve finally decided to show his face — and no, not because Dustin's doorstep song and dance had any effect on him; it was partly because he was sick of hearing muted metal music from across the street and mostly because he hadn't left the trailer in three days and he was starting to feel and smell like shit.

So, anyway. Dinner. Ma Henderson's pulled out all the stops: prepped a homemade lasagna, stocked the fridge with full-sugar sodas and bought the good brand of key lime pie; invited the Sinclair and Wheeler kids to make a little party of it. (Nancy was 'unfortunately too busy to attend,' thank fucking god.)

But then Ma got stuck late at work, so now it's all hands on deck. Mike and Erica are setting the table — Steve can hear Mike bitching at her because she told him the knives go the other way, dumbass; Lucas is at the fridge filling cups with ice and Pepsi and muttering to himself about how much better Coke is; Steve's got an eye on the oven, waiting for the cheese on the lasagna to bubble up juuust right; and Dustin is using "prepping the salad" as an excuse to corner Steve and annoy the ever-loving crap out of him.

“What do you mean it’s hard?” Dustin whines, dropping a handful of shredded carrots into the wooden bowl. “Just talk to him!”

Steve takes a deep breath. Mourns, briefly, for the night he could have had; the girls he could be doing hand stuff with in the back of the Beemer instead of putting up with this kid's shit. “I don’t wanna Just Talk to Him." He bends to peek through the oven door. "And, also: get off my ass about it, alright? I came to dinner, I'm heating up the lasagna. I'm, like, participating or whatever. What more do you want?”

“For you to talk to Eddie! Obviously!" Dustin's tossing the greens so aggressively that it kinda feels like he wishes he was pummeling Steve instead, and when he throws his hands up, little flecks of iceberg lettuce go raining to the floor.

Steve eyes the leafy green confetti. "You're cleaning that up."

"Come on, dude," Dustin begs. "It's been two weeks! What's the point of having friends who are next door neighbors if they refuse to get along?”

Behind them, Lucas supplies in a weirdly strangled tone: “This really doesn’t seem like the way to get him to talk to Eddie."

Thank you. Steve couldn't agree more. He turns to tell him as much and realizes the reason Lucas' voice sounded like that is because he's trying to make one trip to the dining room at any fucking cost. He's got an armful of drinking glasses and three cans of Pepsi tucked under his chin, and he's about to fumble the whole wobbly stack.

"Jesus Christ, man, cut that out!" Steve swoops in to grab the cans before they can join the lettuce shower Dustin just made. He doesn't care how much he loves Claudia, he will leave without helping if they splatter soda all over this floor. Mews the Second can lick it clean for all he cares, he's so for real. "Two at a time," he says sternly, taking the extra cups from Lucas’ hold and handing him back a reasonable amoint. He sends Lucas out of the room with a knee to the ass.

"Hey!" Lucas pouts.

"Hey yourself," he grins.

Lucas sticks out his tongue like a child (because he is one, Steve reminds himself), and when he shoulders the swinging door to the dining room he almost brains his little sister, who makes a graceful side-step and comes strutting through undeterred.

"Are you two nerds done playing good cop, annoying cop with Steve?"

"Ah-!" Dustin gawps. "I better not be the annoying cop!"

"Uh, yeah. Obviously, you are." She props a fist on her hip, a little tyrant in the making, and Steve’s ribs go tender with a fond, vaguely proud ache. He really loves her so much. "Now scram. I need to borrow Steve."

On second thought.

Surely at some point these kids, like, owe him money or some shit for the amount of weary sighs they've caused him to let out. Like, financial compensation for the years taken off his life? Something?

"Yes, Erica?" he asks, nostrils flared; eyes closed.

"You should talk to Eddie."

"Oh, Jesus fucking Christ." Steve looks up to the ceiling, pleading for anyone to grant him strength, then he turns to pull the lasagna out of the oven and watches the bubbles sizzle and pop in the hot cheese until he no longer feels like blowing up at a little girl. "Okay. Okay. And I should listen to you because…?"

Screw financial compensation.

He deserves a presidential medal for how calm he's keeping his tone.

Erica's glaring fiercely at him when he glances her way, and why is every kid he knows such a brave, confrontational little shit? "Because," she explains, "He's being mean to my brother."

Oh, fuck no. "What do you mean?" he asks, voice dropping to an urgent hiss as he feels his hackles raise. Like hell is he letting some Billy 2.0 hang around his kids. "Is he, like- Is he saying shit about you guys?"

She spares him from trying to find a tactful way to ask what he's really asking. "No," she says shortly. "But he is being a bastard about him joining the basketball team—"

"Language—" Oh, what's the point.

"—and those two nerds out there? Are obsessed with him. Especially Mike. Like, ob-sessed.” She writes the letters out in the air in front of her to really drive home the point. “Mike likes whatever Eddie likes, so you need to convince Eddie to like Lucas before Lucas loses his friends over this stupid 'jocks versus freaks' crap." She lowers her voice and jabs the skywriting finger into his shoulder hard enough to bruise. "And if you tell Lucas I said any of this? It is on. sight, Steve. I will crush you."

"Jesus Christ."

"So, we good?"

"Uh huh," Steve stammers. "Y-yep. Understood."

Wow. So dignified, Steve. Really loved how you let a ten year old intimidate you. He's saved from any further bullying by the sound of keys jangling in the lock.

"Dusty!" Claudia calls out through the door, "Dustybunny, can you come help? My hands are full!"

In the dining room Steve hears Dustin groan while Mike and Lucas start immediately tearing into him for the name, mocking 'Dustybunny; oh, Dustybun!' in stupid sing-song tones.

"So I'm just gonna..." Steve says awkwardly, inching toward the door. "Go get that."

"Mhmm." Erica gives him an unimpressed look. "You do that."

—

"Oh, Steve, sweetie, thank you!" Claudia says when he opens the door, cheerful and sweet as always. He goes to take her bags from her, but she drops them all at her feet and steps forward to give him a hug, a firm and tender thing that makes an annoying lump form in his throat.

"How are you?" she asks, stepping back to look at him; eyes raking over his face, hands on his cheeks. Really looks. She frowns at whatever she sees. "How's your mom?"

"Can you please just talk to me?" Steve begs, shivering in the hallway because they haven't budgeted for turning on the heat just yet. Wasn't supposed to get this cold for another pay cycle. He tugs the ends of his sweatshirt sleeves. His limbs feel stiff and tense, a budding anxiety like there’s a bomb in the base of his spine.

"Steven, darling, not now," his mother sighs as she sinks demurely onto the couch. "Then when!" he explodes. He doesn't want to yell at her, but, "Seriously, when? When are we going to say anything to each other that actually fucking matters, mom? I feel like I barely even know you anymore!"

"Yes, and I feel a migraine coming on; are you quite finished?"

"….She's fine," Steve answers.

Could be true, for all he knows.

The wrinkles between Claudia's brows deepen, like she wants to press the subject but decides to hold her tongue. "That's good to hear," she settles on after a moment, giving him a gentle pat on the cheek before stepping away with a subtle look that’s not mad, just disappointed.

Steve kind of wants to cry.

"Mom! Food!" Dustin hollers from the other room.

Steve rolls his eyes. "I swear I try to teach him manners."

"Well, good luck with that," she grins, the shadow of tension between them dissipating. Her mood is good like that. Resilient. Strong. Immune to outside force.

Steve’s moods, on the other hand, are more like those stainless steel fridges that promise to remain spotless but then end up covered in grubby handprints. (Exhibit A: he’s doing it right now.)

Thankfully Claudia’s got enough sunshine in her for the both of them. “Come on,” she says, extending a hand and wiggling her fingers for him to grab hold. “Let's eat."

—

part 7

[lure-of-writing]

Little sister: Knock before you enter

Summary: Maybe Rhys should knock before he enters

Word count: 1.6k

Rhysand had many titles and jobs he was required to upkeep and fulfill. The most daunting title of all; your brother. And as your older brother it was his job to keep you happy and safe but how is he supposed to do that while being high lord, tending to his court, being a new father and a good mate. It was safe to say that he had been falling behind in that area of his life and by no means were you upset with him. Truthfully if Rhysand was willing to admit it to himself you were probably happy to not have him breathing down your neck every two seconds but as your older brother he couldn’t let his lack of time keep him from checking in on you. 

Flying to the house of wind he greets Cassian and Nesta in the kitchen having breakfast after what he could only assume was a long training session. Of one kind or another. “Good morning, have you seen my sister by chance?” He stopped to grab a piece of fruit that sat in the basket on the counter. Nesta shook her head in a no motion while bringing her cup to her lips to take a sip. “She wasn’t at training this morning.”  his general responded. It wasn’t unusual for you to skip training every now and then but since befriending Cassian's mate you made it more of a point to be consistent in your routine. Something most definitely had to be off. The high lord nodded at his family members and silently made his way to your bedroom and once your door handle was within reach he pushed the door open without any thought. 

The second his eyes took in the scene before him, he really wished he would have knocked. At least to give Azriel the chance to winnow away before he caught the two of you in a compromising position. “Well good morning to you too.” Your light laughter felt like a slap in the face and your brother directed his gaze to the ceiling. Azriel said nothing as he continued tightening the lace of your corset as if this was another normal day for the three of you. It in fact was not another normal day for the three of you.

In the middle of the room stood you and Azriel. Your back facing him while he gently pulls the strings of the fabric together in hopes of tightening the fabric to be flush with your body. Neither you nor Azriel seemed fazed by this arraignment. Rhysand made a mental note to ask his shadowsinger about that later. Right now he was trying to find a reason as to why you felt comfortable wearing nothing but this corset top and underwear in front of the man he considered a brother. He would also have to ask about that later. 

Coughing Rhys found the bravery in himself to look at you again for a mere seconds before shifting his gaze to literally anything else in your room. “Azriel, why are you helping my sister get dressed?” Before his friend could answer you jumped in to answer for him “Because I can’t tie a corset by myself, obviously” for a few seconds you watched while your brother tried to find the right words but by the time he had found them you were already strutting across the room and into the closet to grab the skirt that matches the outfit. Putting it on before him and the spymaster. Effortlessly you pulled it up and around your waist while turning once again to give Azriel access to tie the strings of your skirt together and complete your outfit. “And where exactly are you going where you need an outfit like that?” nothing about your outfit was revealing but it was definitely one of your nicer outfits for sure. Once again your laughter rang out into the room filling it with undeniable warmth. “Fatherhood sure has made you quite forgetful hasn’t it?”  Rhys tried to rack his brain for any reason you would need to be dressed up and he couldn’t find any. Maybe fatherhood has made him forgetful. “I’m going to visit the summer court and try to fix our relationship with them and since you are quite forgetful today, here is your reminder that Az is coming with me.” Silently the two male lock eye contact and Rhys raises a brow in questioning. Az titled his head slightly in a questioning manner. “You really want your sister going to another court alone?” 

Sighing a hefty sigh which Rhys was sure would be the first of many today he shook his head. “Of course I don’t want her to go alone. I just don’t recall telling you to go with her.” Confused, Azriel asked “Who else would go then?” And honestly Rhysand had no idea. 

After one week which felt like forever knowing you were alone with his shadowsinger the two of you had finally returned. It wasn’t like he didn’t trust the two of you but he couldn’t help but remember you curled up a little too comfortably in the spymaster's lap during the family dinner and now he walks into your room and there is Azriel helping you get dressed while you're basically naked. Something about that made his stomach queasy. 

After you had debriefed with your brother about your week, your very exciting week at that, you had made your grand exit to your room to wash away the day of traveling you had endured while Azriel gave him his report of your experience. After explaining everything the two males once again found themselves in the same situation as a week ago. Silently observing each other waiting for someone to make the first move. “Would you like to explain why you were in my sister's room helping her get dressed last week?” Az said nothing for a minute while staring at his high lord. “Like you said I was helping her get dressed.” Rhysand couldn’t help the scoff that slipped from his lips in disbelief. “Az I’m not stupid. I know something is going on between the two of you just please be honest and tell me. First she sits in your lap which sure isn’t unusual for her but then when I go to get her up from you, you don’t let me. Then at the court of nightmares, which don’t get me wrong I am eternally grateful that you protected her but then she kisses you like her life depended on it and leads you off to gods know where and now I find you in her room quote unquote helping her get dressed while she's basically half naked. I would be lying if I said this didn’t make me mad but  I really just want you to be truthful with me.” 

Azriel knew just how bad it seemed to anyone but the two of you but listening to Rhys list off all the stuff he had seen you two do, did seem a little suspicious. But truthfully he could say that nothing was going on between the two of you. Sure you liked to push the boundaries of friends to lovers quite often but it was always with Azriels concent and permission and nothing more ever happened then what Rhys had witnessed. Azriel respected Rhysand in more ways than one and part of that meant never crossing the in your relationship into something more as much as Azriel really wished he could. Some part of Azriel knew that you were meant for him but he knew his high lords stance on either him or Cassian dating his little sister. And it was never an option because Rhysand would never allow it to be one. 

“Rhys, I respect you which means I also respect you that don’t want me to date your little sister. I would never do anything to cross that line and I honestly try not to but you know you sister. She likes to get under your skin and since Cassian can’t help her achieve that goal anymore she comes to me. If it truly bothers you that much I will talk to her and put it to a stop. As for last week, after training I was the first one back down into the house and she simply asked for my help. At first I denied but once she brought the corset out to show me how complicated it was I agreed to help her, nothing more was going on I promise.”

After a long and much needed talk with Azriel, Rhysand had finally made it back to his bedroom and his wonderful mate. Once the couple had caught each other up on their day things started to escalate and before he knew it he was starting to undress Feyre. Suddenly the bedroom door slammed open and there you were standing in the entrance of his room staring at him expectantly. After a very lengthy pause of the three of you glancing at and forth at each other you finally speak. “Rhys what are you doing? Feyre is a grown woman she can undress herself. She doesn’t need your help.” with an exhausted sigh you watch as your brother rubs his weary face. He knew exactly what this was about. “Maybe next time you'll knock before entering.” Feyre watched as you turned around and left as if you had not just barged into their room. Without saying anything to her mate she raises an eyebrow in question as if to say “What was that about?” Sighing once more Rhysand just shakes his head before face planting into their bed. Exiting his house you make your way to where Azriel was waiting to fly the two of you back to the house of wind “Maybe next time he’ll actually knock.” The gentle laugh of the shadowsinger caressed your heart as he scooped you into his arms and took off to the sky. That was not before pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

Taglist: @kemillyfreitas @gorlillaglue25 @willowpains

[bambiesfics]

𝐄. 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 ♥️’𝐬 𝐌*𝐥𝐟𝐬 ╰₊✧ ﾟ

Part One - [FIND PART TWO HERE]

ˎˊ˗ SYNOPSIS: You’re a yummy, soft around the edges older lady, with a post-partum body that jiggles in the most delicious ways. Ellie simply can’t get ahold of herself, every time she sees you, her pupils turn into pretty pink hearts, and her clit thumps in rhythm with her beating heart.

ˎˊ˗ A/N: This is re-upload of my series fic, part 2 & 3 are already written!

𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐈𝐍 𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐒𝐓, when Ellie Williams realized for the first time, how much of a sick little whore she was for older women, especially with children.

Her jaw went slack when she walked by your house in the warm weather, lustfully staring at how the crease of your ass was spilling out from under your denim cut off shorts. You were too busy wiping chocolate off your toddler's face to notice the young brunette ogling you like a pervert.

Her steps faltered and then eventually just slowed to a complete stop. A wanton chance to stand there and stare at you. Ellie’s heart was thumping fast, but her clit was thumping faster. You were so womanly, so plush and pretty. Gosh, Ellie was so enamored with the tubby meat of your ass, and those yummy thighs of yours, to notice that her vanilla scoop ice cream had slowly melted atop her tight fist, and the sugary drippings splattered onto the toe-box of her converse sneakers.

When you finally stood up from where you were bent over your toddler, after haven given the aforementioned teen girl, a free, front-row show to ogle at your asscheeks. You’d realized that the same adorable young girl with auburn hair, had been staring at you. You naturally assumed it was heatstroke that made her all stiff like that. So you invited her inside. But reality set in when you noticed that no matter what you were doing, whether it was getting her a glass of water, or placing the back of your hand on her forehead to gauge her temperature, Ellie's eyes always found their way back down to your puffy nipples or your buttcheeks.

She continuously ran her tongue along her bottom lip as she manspread. Or rubbed her palms down her thighs just slow enough for you to catch the pride flag bracelet dangling from her wrist. And in less than a second your thoughts had flitted from ‘Oh…’ to ‘OH!’

You tried to push it into the back of your mind. Because, surely that didn’t mean anything. Ellie was just a nice young lady whose head was stuck in the clouds, the bracelet and the wandering green eyes, they didn’t necessarily mean that she wanted to…fuck you, did it? She’s too young to be so ambitious anyway, to be so wantonly lustful. No not this sweet, slightly spaced out, teenage girl. That’s what you wished to believe, so you rolled off the lustful thoughts, and instead offered her some lunch. A baloney and lettuce sandwhich with the crust cut off. Just how you assumed every kid liked it, It was the motherly thing to do.

“Wanna taste you sooo bad” she muttered as you came up close to place her lunch next to her. In an instant a deep pink blush bloomed wildly on Ellie’s face, her eyes widened in embarrassment and the blood vessels in her eyes became more pronounced. “I-I meant I wanna taste your sandwiches. L-L-like the one you just gave me…..I’m really sorry.” She turned her head to the side “Fuck. me.” The cherry cheeked girl had whispered the last part so low you almost missed it.

Ellie was so fucking humiliated, but she couldn’t help it. All she could do was trip and stumble over her words, and apologize each time her sinful lips accidentally verbalized every vivid fantasy she had, without her brain’s consent. Your curvy, post-partum body was doing sick things to her cunt. Cause damn, all she wanted was to stuff her face under your puffy pussy, tell you to drop your full weight on her head and then beg you to suffocate her.

Ellie got her wish, because after she embarrassed herself, you invited her to watch a few cartoons with your tot. Cartoons transitioned to action thrillers when your toddler got sleepy. And thrillers turned into you riding her tongue as she nipped her pink lips at your thumping, swollen clit. Suckling it into her mouth as she rubbed her own pussy through her jeans. Ellie brought both hands to grab the fatty dough of your ass and forced you to grind on her face, ride her nose until your heart's content. She even licked downwards until she reached your pucker, tonguing your furled tight rim. She’d always wanted to rim a girl, and fuck, today she just might. Before Ellie could continue poking the tip of her tongue into your asshole, you lifted yourself off her face and hovered your pussy above her lips as you came, watching your hole drip out sticky strings of your arousal onto her chin. Ellie held out her tongue to catch it.

And then you—.

“—Ellie!”

“Ellie!”

Your voice ripped right through her fantasy. “I think it’s starting to get late, you should go home now.” You said as you held her shoulder, worried about the ditzy girl.

Ellie’s eyes faltered momentarily, disappointed at the realization she had just gotten too deep into her fantasy again. Of course some random lady with a kid and likely a husband wasn’t going to let her fuck on the first day they met.

She pushed herself off from your counter and readjusted the front of her pants, trying to accommodate her swollen clit.

She hadn’t been this ravenously attracted to a girl in years. She already knew she was going to finger herself at the thought of you and your ass suffocating her deliriously, tonight.

Ellie shuffled outside, hands stuffed in the front of her pockets playing with the little Hawaiian tooth pick you put on her baloney sandwich.

The sun was low, and the horizon of its setting was a warm orange. The air cooled the nape of her neck. All she could think about was you.

Ellie had completely forgotten about how the point of her walk through your neighbour, was to go pick up her date from the next park over.

-Fin-

[the-writer-arrived]

Voice lines and habits that give me unholy thoughts

Synopsis: it doesn't need much for your cute little brain to go haywire with desire for him... (un)fortunately for you, he's quick to catch on the signs and use them against you.

Characters: wriothesley, alhaitham.

Warnings: afab!fem!reader; explicit smut; established relationship; a bit of plot since i like the build up to the horny part; use of handcuffs, oral f!receiving, fingering & overstimulation (wriothesley); semi-public/office sex & oral m!receiving (alhaitham).

A/N: wrio's teaser and web event messed with my brain :D hoyoverse def knew what they were doing when they created him.

This work has sexual themes and is not suitable for minors. If you click on read more, I am not responsable for any discomfort you may feel reading this. You have been warned.

"...Sweetheart, did you hear me or were you too busy staring intensely at my hand?"

"...Oh! I, uh... was just thinking about an answer to your question!"

"Does my question of whether you want more tea or not need that much pondering over?"

Wriothesley rests his cheek on his hand, not even trying to hold back a smirk as he watches the redness of your cheeks becoming more proeminent.

Shit. So much for thinking you were being discreet about it.

You decide to exercise your right to remain silent, taking the teapot and filling your own cup, promptly ignoring the chuckle coming from the man before you.

At the corner of your eyes, you see the handsome bastard has the audacity to return twirling and moving that dastard pen again, as if to taunt you.

...Is feeling jealous of an object too concerning of a sign?

----------

Wriothesley was seeing you out of his office, a stack of documents in your arms that needed to be delivered to Neuvillette about the recent happenings of the Fortress, a task that you were more than happy to do for him.

As you were finishing your conversation, you hear a commotion coming from the Coupon Cafeteria. With a shared glance between you two, the warden walks towards the scene to investigate, you following a few steps behind.

There, you see a group of inmates-- no, it's more like one inmate is causing a ruckus while the others are trying to cool him off... without much success apparently. In fact, things are quickly getting out of control when the riled up man begins to fight anyone opposing him.

Your boyfriend is known to be level-headed, always trying to resolve internal conflicts by talking things out to reach an agreement. Cases like this one, however, require a more... on hands approach.

It all happens too fast. The prisoner turns around to hit the next person that dared to touch him so casually, only for his sloppy attack to be dodged with ease by none other than the Duke himself. One could easily see the color draining from man's face, any trace of his anger disappearing in a flash.

You gasp at the scene ahead of you, having to lean on the large pipe next to you as your legs suddenly feel weak.

Make no mistake, your reaction isn't fear by the violence you witness, far from it. Rather, it is because of the sudden wave of arousal you feel as you watch Wriothesley pin the troublemaker underneath him, pulling his arms behind his back to cuff him.

Fuck. For a split second, you wish you could trade places with the inmate.

'...What in the world. Get a hold of yourself!'

You shake your head in an attempt to clear the indecent thoughts... Which proves to be futile at the way the stern and cold look of your lover melts into a soft and warm one when his eyes turn to you. All while 'adjusting' his loose tie, aka pulling it lower and revealing a bit more of his scarred skin that you adore kissing it.

"Are you okay, sweetheart? Sorry, did that scare you?"

His duality makes you crazy horny-- t-that is, deeply in love with him!

"No! No, no, I wasn't scared! I was just, um... feeling a little faint due to the heat, yes!"

You wave a hand in front of you make it more believable... which don't seem to be working very we'll, seeing the frown on Wriothesley's face. So you start your plan B: run away.

"Ah, I-I better go deliever this documents to Monsieur Neuvillette then. Seeyouathomeloveyoubye!"

Wriothesley watches as you scurry off to the elevator, clutching the files in your arms like a lifeline. He shakes his head, a hand covering the grin.

"Oh darling, you're too easy to read."

----------

"Y-You mean-- ahh, that you k-knew all along?!"

"How could I not, when your eyes were almost begging me to fuck you? You should reward me for my self control, sweetheart."

Any retort you had dissolve into a shaky moan when Wriothesley curls his two fingers inside your core, hitting that deep spot that turns your brain into mush.

You want grasp the sheets, you want to scratch his back, you want to cover your face, ANYTHING. But you can't, not with your hands locked with his handcuffs to the bedpost. You hate it and you love it.

"Wrioooo..."

"Now, now princess, don't tug the handcuffs so hard, it'll hurt you and we can't have that." His free hand trails up your arms, lightly dragging his nails to make you shiver at the ticklish feeling, until he holds your wrists in place. "Be a good girl and focus on me, yeah?"

Jokes on him, that's what you've been doing the whole day. Thinking about your dear boyfriend, his sweet personality, his cute adoration for tea, his godly body, his great strength and how you wished for nothing more than to be bent over his desk and--

"C-Close, close... Gonna-!" Your babbles are interrupted by a gasp, Wriothesley's fingers speeding up and his palm brushing against your clit over and over that it takes just a few seconds for you to see white, body taut, eyes squeezed shut as pleasure washes over you.

The Duke slows down his movement until his hand stops completely, kissing your temple and cooing at you when you whine at his fingers leaving you empty.

You sigh when his mouth meets yours in a languid kiss, helping your heartbeat return to normal... until it races again when you realize his lips going down, down and down your body...

"W-Wrio... what are you-- Ahh!" You squeal at the sudden cold sensation in your sensitive pussy, attempting to wiggle your hips away. Your very mean lover just chuckles, wrapping his strong arms around your thighs and drags you back to his face, the asshole shooting you a smirk after he uses cold tongue to lick your folds again.

"Surely you didn't think I'd stop at one round, after you used your bedroom eyes at me the whole day, right? So..."

"Don't run away now, sweetheart."

"W-What did you say?!"

"...I said, don't let any of it, the treasure, roll away now."

Your lover looks at you with a quizzical look, not comprehending your unusual reaction to his words. You, on the other hand, are silent praying to all the Seven archons for your face to not be as red as you think it is.

In any case, you decide to turn your back to Alhaitham to get the rest of the treasure inside the chest, while he keeps on look out for any other hilichurl or abyss monsters lurking around.

You see, it's not common for you two to go adventure together around Sumeru, much less to see the scribe in action with your own eyes. So, you can't be blamed when you've been too distracted by the way his toned arms flex as he swings his sword(s), his cape gracefully flowing at each movement, the focused expression as the Chisel-Light Mirrors cut down the enemies...

Anyway, you were far too busy gawking over your boyfriend and how unfairly hot he is to actually notice the chest spawning right in front of you. And those words that he had said? It's no surprise your mind went to the gutter.

You just hope you weren't acting so obviously down bad for him as you fear...

----------

"So good... Always so good to me. Fuck, I'm getting close...!"

You really don't know how you got here. The memories from returning to Sumeru City from adventuring in the wilderness to being on your knees, sucking on Alhaitham's cock while in his office are a blur.

But, honestly? You can't bring yourself to care about these minor details.

You drag your head back slowly, torturously forcing the man above you to feel every inch of your mouth until only the tip, angry red and drooling pre cum, remains inside.

The harsh suck you give at the sensitive area earns you a groan, a growl almost, that leaves you rubbing your thighs together. Looking up at your beloved, you watch his chest rise and fall rapidly, a pretty flush on his cheeks and eyes sending you a glare.

A side of you wants to be mean, to give him a taste of paradise before taking it away, just like he so adores to do with you. You want him to be frustrated, to beg you for release, a taste of his own medicine...

But you can't. You shouldn't.

Regardless of the locked door, anyone might come knocking, requiring the presence of the scribe for some unimportant business and, archons forbid, hear what is happening inside the office.

You try not to acknowledge the dampness of your panties from this thought.

And then you feel it, three taps of his fingers on the back of your head, the sign you two came up with to tell the other when you're about to cum.

You release his shaft with a "pop" and Alhaitham is ready to question your cruel actions, but whatever words he had wanted to say get thrown out of the window when you swallow him again without warning, taking as much of his cock as you can.

With one, two shallow thrusts of his hips, he paints your throat white with his release, head thrown back, eyes tightly shut and a moan that most certainly would be heard by everyone in the Akademiya halls had the scribe not covered his mouth.

You try, you swear to Celestia that you try your hardest to swallow every single drop of cum, but there's too much and you can control your breathing only for so long. With much dismay, your mouth lets go of the slowly softening member, covered with a mix of his seeds and your saliva.

Chuckling at your dejected look, Alhaitham raises your chin to make you look at him, thumb gathering the very same mix that has escaped from your mouth to smear it over your lips, his next words making you shiver in arousal but also embarrasment of the knowledge that he had known all along what had gone through your mind during your adventure earlier.

"Don't let any of it roll away now, my love."

thanks for reading <3 likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated <3

heart divider made by @/cafekitsune

red wriothesley and alhaitham banners (smut) made by @/the-writer-arrived aka yours truly ;)

[wlntrsldler]

we can't be friends (wait for your love) | luke castellan

synopsis: where luke survives the battle of manhattan and returns to camp half blood, only to see you (his ex) in a new relationship.

based on we can't be friends (wait for your love) by ariana grande

luke didn’t plan on making it out alive from the battle of manhattan, but here he was, back in camp half blood, wishing that he succumbed to his wounds instead of fighting to stay alive. the camp was different, cold and foreign to him, even though he’d spent a good chunk of his life on the campgrounds. all his best and worst memories were made at camp half blood, but that life seemed unreachable now. at this point, luke didn’t know if the memories that he recalled were actually his or if they were just tricks kronos was still pulling on him. 

the campers knew him as the ‘traitor.’ the kids he used to help with their sword skills cowered in fear whenever he approached them. the apollo kids only tended to his wounds because they had to and even then, they glared at him and wrapped the bandages just tight enough not to cut off blood flow. the satyrs who used to slip him strawberries from their fields, spoke about him in hushed whispers whenever he walked by them. but the thing that hurt the most was seeing you walk around with theo harvey, hand in hand, just like he used to do with you. 

he didn’t have the right to be upset. it’s been years since the two of you were last together, years since he held your hand in his, kissed your lips, felt you asleep on his chest. it was before he turned into this monster with hands stained with the blood of the people he considered friends, considered family. he knew you’d move on. he told himself that he wanted you to be happy, to receive the love that you deserved, but selfishly, he knew deep down that he wanted you to have that with him– not the theo harvey, child of athena, favored by the gods. 

at first, luke thought he’d be able to make it through the summer. as far as he knew, the older kids didn’t stay at camp half blood throughout the year, but he was thoroughly disappointed when he found out that a lot of the older kids stayed to guard camp just in case something happened. luke blamed himself for his own suffering. getting used as kronos’ host hurt less than seeing your lipgloss on theo’s cheek when they sparred; or noticing that the necklace he made for you when he was 15 was replaced by the one that theo bought you; or hearing your giggles from across the campfire while theo whispered corny jokes in your ear. he did this to himself.

it made him sick to his stomach. he discreetly moved into the poseidon cabin with percy (he grew tired of his siblings falling silent every time he walked into the hermes cabin. he no longer knew how to sleep in silence because it was always loud and rowdy when his siblings were involved, but alas, that changed too). luke was scared of it at first, knowing that he was on thin ice with the gods, but percy, being percy, scoffed. 

“you already tried to dethrone them,” the younger boy joked, trying to lighten luke’s broody demeanor, “i think you staying in a cabin you’re not assigned to is on the bottom of your list of offenses.” 

“dude. too soon.” 

“my bad.” 

the trio tried their best to cheer luke up. they knew that it was probably difficult for him to come back to camp after everything, but it became clear quickly that luke’s mood was not just due to everyone at camp hating him, but rather because one person at camp wanted nothing to do with him. 

anyone who saw you and luke interact before everything went down, knew that there was something between you guys that nothing in the world could touch. none of them knew the extent of your bond until it was your voice that snapped luke out of kronos’ control. it took one word. one syllable. luke. the second he heard your voice, it was like a switch was flipped in luke’s brain. 

percy made an ill-timed joke after the dust cleared, “if y/n was all it took to bring you back, we would’ve dragged her to see you a long time ago, buddy. would’ve saved us a lot of time.” 

“percy.” 

on the way back to chb, luke revealed that he made a deal with kronos to keep you out of harm’s way. he only agreed to be kronos’ host if it meant that he would protect you, keep you away from all the bloodshed of the war. the titan agreed but underestimated your stubbornness and prowess. when you showed up to the battle of manhattan, a part of kronos knew that his plan was spoiled. 

so luke’s actions, sulking during meals, spending too many hours training, opting to be alone, made sense to them. you hadn’t so much looked in his direction since he arrived at camp half blood; not even a smile, a wave, an acknowledgment of his presence. it was painful to watch luke stare at you from across the room, longing evident on his face, only breaking his gaze when theo finally showed up to take his usual spot next to you. luke still loved you, that part was clear, but at what point was it too much? 

annabeth, who’d watched your love story unfold, and was your number one fan, was heartbroken to watch your relationship crumble. she liked theo, her half-sibling was great, but luke was her brother and as much as he messed up, she felt bad for him. you were it for luke. if luke was going to end up with someone, it was you. she always believed that it was written in the stars, crafted by the hands of fate, professed by the goddess of love herself, that in this life you and luke would prevail and when your time came to exist in the afterlife, you’d find each other in elysium. but with how things were looking, annabeth began to question her own belief system.

it happened during one of the many nights luke couldn’t fall asleep, no matter how hard he tried. he threw on one of the hoodies he left behind at camp before sneaking out of the poseidon cabin to smoke a cigarette, a habit he picked up during his days on princess andromeda. 

he saw you then, standing by the lake seemingly on patrol. he didn’t know that you’d be assigned to guard tonight. if he did, he probably wouldn’t have come out of the cabin. as much as he stared at you and scratched at his palms wanting to talk to you, he never made an effort to. he knew you well enough to know when you wanted nothing to do with someone and how you were treating him right now made your intentions very clear. 

luke was trying his best to be quiet, but he accidentally burned the tip of his thumb with his lighter and let out a hiss. you turned around immediately, sword drawn, in a fighting stance. you narrowed your eyes, trying to make out who was out of the cabins this late at night. 

“shit,” luke mumbled, stuffing his cig and lighter in his pocket. he’d been so distracted looking at you, trying to hide himself, that he didn’t notice the fire was so close to his skin. he raised his hands up, trying to show that he wasn’t looking for trouble, “i-i’ts uh, it’s just me. sorry, i didn’t mean to scare you.” 

you froze in your spot, arm slowly falling to your side. you placed your sword back in its place, walking over to him, “luke?” 

it was pathetic how the corners of his lips quirked up in a smile at the sound of his name leaving your lips. he hadn’t heard it since that day and it made a warmth spread across his chest. he wiped the smile off his face as you got close enough to see him, afraid that you’d think he was making a joke out of the situation. he stood there awkwardly as your eyes studied his face and his body, probably assessing if he was a threat. 

“hey, y/n,” your name tasted sour in his mouth. he hadn’t called you that in years, always referring to you as baby, or babe, or love, or another cringy pet name that you pretended to hate but the blush on your cheeks said otherwise. using your real name felt too formal, like you were strangers. perhaps you considered him a stranger now. the idea made luke want to disappear. “i just uh, came out to get some fresh air.”

you stayed silent, pursing your lips as you continued to stare at him. luke tried not to think about how much of a mess he looked right now. the sweater was a size too small on him, sleeves falling short on his wrists. his pajama pants were wrinkled and stained with mud where they dragged on the floor on his way to the lake. his curls were a mess on his head. he ran a hand through his hair one too many times while he tossed and turned on his cot. the bags under his eyes weren’t the most flattering and the smaller scars that had been added on his face since the battle were disgusting to look at. 

he cleared his throat, “i can go back to the cabin, i-it’s really not a big deal. i’ll just crack a window open or something.”

“where are you staying?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest, “i know you’re not sleeping in the hermes cabin. the stolls told me you haven’t been there in days.” 

luke rubbed the back of his neck, “i’ve been staying with percy. ‘m not really welcomed in my cabin right now.” 

“i see,” you replied. 

“yeah.” 

“you need to stop it.” 

luke gulped, “stop what?” 

“staring at me,” you licked your lips before taking your bottom lip between your teeth. you scruffed the bottom of your shoes on the grass, a tell that you were feeling awkward. he was brought back to the day you confessed your feelings for him. 

you were sixteen, he seventeen, right after he returned from his quest. he’d taken you out into the woods to get away from the judgment of the campers about his failed quest. he was lying on his back, pointing out the constellations in the sky, when you got up with your hands on your back. you shyly rocked back and forth on the tips of your toes and the balls of your feet, staring down at him with a red flush on your cheeks. 

you started dragging your feet on the floor, ignoring the dirt that kicked up from your actions that stuck on the fabric of your converses. you had mumbled that you liked him and luke couldn’t believe it. he asked you to repeat yourself, louder the second time, partly because he wanted to hear it again, and partly because he thought he was hearing things. when you groaned and walked away, fully believing that he was messing with you, luke jolted from his position and ran after you. he wrapped his arms around your waist and spun you around, proclaiming his own feelings for you in between fits of giggles and kisses to your cheek. 

this scene was the opposite of that. your stare was cold and serious, needing to get this point across. luke thought you looked different. physically, you still looked like his y/n– same hair, same eyes, same lips, but the look on your face was distant. you’d never looked at him like this before, like you didn’t know him at all, like he had no place in the life you created for yourself. luke didn’t know if it hurt more to have you ignore him like you had been doing for weeks, or have you look at him like this. 

“i have a boyfriend, luke,” you sighed, “you can’t keep looking at me like that.” 

“i-i’m sorry,” he stuttered out, tears burning his eyes. “i just miss you.” 

“please don’t do that,” you whispered, turning your head away from him. luke watched you wipe your tears with your forearm and all he wanted to do was engulf you in his arms like he’d done a million times before and hold you until the storm was over. “you don’t get to say things like that to me.” 

luke rubbed his jaw, trying to keep his hands occupied, “you know i can never lie to you.” 

“i need you to lie to me this time, okay?” you refused to look at him now. “i need you to say that you don’t feel anything for me anymore.” 

“i can’t do that, y/n.” 

“i spent years loving you and you left, luke. you chose to betray us,” you placed your palms on your stomach, trying to steady yourself. you felt like you couldn’t breathe. this is why you’d been avoiding him. you knew that the minute he made his way back into your life, you’d fall on your knees, at his mercy. a part of you knew that he wouldn’t do anything like that again, but you also knew that in the off-chance that he would, you wouldn’t survive a second blow. you barely made it out alive after the first one. losing luke for a second time would ruin you. “i like theo. i’m finally learning to live without you and i can’t lose all this progress over some wishful thinking. luke, i can’t do that.” 

“it’s not wishful thinking,” luke replied, sniffling. 

“stop it!” you sobbed, turning to look at him. your tears were streaming down your face, despair and hurt clouding your eyes, “stop it, please! i’m begging you to let me go. i-i can’t have you in my life. don’t you get it? i’m tethered to you. you’re the other half of my soul. you own a piece of my heart that i can never ever get back, but i-i’m exhausted trying to fight you off.”

luke’s shoulders deflated at the sound of agony in your voice. he took a step back, mouth opening and closing as he tried to will his mind to say something, anything, in response to you. but he couldn’t. where does he even start? 

should he tell you that it was the memories with you that kept him sane all those years he was held captive? should he tell you that he visited camp half blood despite knowing that it would cause more harm than good during those years just in the hopes that he could catch a glimpse of you? should he tell you that when the corners of his vision began to blur, it was the feeling of your hands pressing against his wounds that made him fight to stay alive?

he’d stay alive just to feel your touch, warm and steady hands on his tattered skin as he’d always remembered, for a second longer. he’d use his last bit of strength to place a kiss on your knuckles, injuries be damned because he needed you to know how he felt. he’d use his last breath to tell you that you looked beautiful, bloodied and bruised, under the light of the world burning around you. he’d spend the rest of his life hated by everyone in the world just to have you glance in his direction. he’d spend his time in the afterlife in tartarus if it meant that he had a shot at rebirth, in a life where you loved him again. 

“make it easier for me and put me out of my misery,” you choked out, “you at least owe me that decency.” 

luke knew that he was difficult to love. his mom went crazy because she loved him. his dad abandoned him because he was too much. thalia hated him because of who he had become. annabeth still flinched when percy made jokes about kronos because it reminded her of what luke did. luke knew that loving him was a chore, a burden, but he never thought that loving him would cause someone so much suffering. especially not you, who told him once that loving him was effortless, as easy as breathing in oxygen in the air. you once said that loving him was simple. it was second nature to you. 

now, he watched you cry out in pain. pain that he caused. and he knew he couldn’t in good conscience deny you of your request. luke stuffed his hands in his front pockets, “okay.” 

he looked at you, for the last time, before walking away, stumbling in his steps as he left you alone.

[fredwkong]

Dr. Li, Hypnotherapist

Austin couldn’t see any other solutions than booking a session with the hypnotherapist. He knew that he’d been moping for weeks, so when his friend finally snapped and told him to get some help, Austin had taken the referral and gotten on Dr. Li’s waiting list.

His thirtieth birthday a few years ago had been a bit of a wake-up call for Austin. Years of overwork and poor diet were slowly reversing as he took better care of his body, and for the first time, he felt proud of his looks. He knew he had a long way to go, but he was hoping to attain proper hunk status before he turned forty. He knew that he gave off the impression of being a clean-cut, intelligent guy with a pretty classic sense of style and, he hoped, a charming personality.

And yet, well, that hadn’t been enough to save his relationship.

Thankfully, the referral from his friend fast-tracked Austin up the waiting list, and a week or so later he scheduled his first appointment with Dr. Li and showed up at the low-key office just outside the financial district.

Sitting in the waiting room, listening to the burble of the little rock fountain in the corner, Austin found himself suddenly overwhelmed with second thoughts. He didn’t have real problems, after all. He was just being a baby about the breakdown of a 4-year relationship. Surely someone else could use this time better than him. Plus, what if he couldn’t do it? What if the hypnotherapy didn’t work for him? Dr. Li’s reviews were fantastic, but everyone underreported their failed clients.

Just as Austin was about to stand up and leave, the door of Dr. Li’s office opened to let out a cute young man with a blissful smile on his face. The guy blinked owlishly at Austin for a moment, his eyelids fluttering slightly, then he licked his lips lasciviously and drifted out the door.

A smooth, resonant, eminently masculine voice came from inside the office. “Forgive Terry,” it said, “he prefers to remain in trance for a few hours after our sessions. Please come in, Austin.”

Nervously, Austin stepped through the door to find a well-built Chinese man in a suit lounging in a comfortable armchair. Across from him in the office sat a long couch. It looked perfect for lying down on. The man, Dr. Li, had a few grey streaks at his temples, but still filled out his suit like a much younger man might. As Austin came in, he stood up, putting aside a small notebook that he had been writing in.

“Welcome to your first session, Austin,” said Dr. Li in that smooth, rich voice, giving him a firm handshake. “Please have a seat on the couch and make yourself comfortable. Would you like anything to drink?”

Once the two of them were settled—Austin took a glass of water, while Dr. Li refilled a thermos of herbal tea—the hypnotherapist continued, “My job is to help you achieve your full potential and free your deepest desires. To do that, I will most likely put you into a trance to unlock your unconscious wishes and help your brain make important changes. But first, let’s just have a conversation. Tell me about yourself, Austin. What brought you into my office today?”

With cues from Dr. Li, delivered in his calm, almost musical voice, Austin found the story spilled out easily. His attempts at self-improvement had been dismissed by his boyfriend, then actively sabotaged as his boyfriend worried that Austin improving might cause him to move on. Finally, Austin had kicked him out, and then gone into a spiral of self-hatred that resulted in his friend recommending Dr. Li’s unique methods for achieving goals and moving past trauma.

As the conversation continued, Austin found that he spoke less and less as Dr. Li spoke more, voicing gentle encouragement and affirmations that seemed to resonate inside Austin’s head, crowding out distractions and thoughts. Austin’s eyelids fluttered as a tingling feeling washed over his body. He just felt…so relaxed. He should just listen to Dr. Li’s voice and sink deeper into this sensation. He should lie down on the couch. He should…

Sleep.

…

Wake up.

Austin’s eyes blinked open. He felt calm, refreshed, alert. He felt better than he had in a long time. I looked over at Dr. Li, struggling to keep his eyes from falling closed.

“Very good, Austin,” said the hypnotist, his voice causing a tingle of pleasure through Austin’s body. “You’re a natural at this.”

“I…am?” Austin’s voice came out fuzzy, surprising him. He felt so awake, but he couldn’t seem to think through anything. He just had to trust Dr. Li.

“Yes, you’re a very good subject.” Austin felt another tingle of pleasure. It felt good to be praised. “You told me some of your unconscious desires, and I think you have a lot of potential for us to unlock together. But to do that, we have to get you into an even deeper trance.”

Austin drifted for a moment before he felt the response bubble to the top of his mind. “Okay.”

“Very good.” Another twinge. “In that case, it’s time to sleep.”

…

“Fully awake now.”

Austin came awake with a deep breath. He lay in the feeling for a moment, savouring the deep calm in his body. Looking at his watch, he could see that over an hour had passed, but his memories past the first few minutes were hazy. He knew that Dr. Li had taken good care of him and should always be trusted.

“How do you feel, Austin?” Dr. Li asked, writing in his notebook. Austin thought he could see a dark spot in the crotch of the hypnotist’s slacks, as if he had been precumming while Austin was under, but Dr. Li was trustworthy and would tell him what he needed to know.

“I feel good.” There was just one thing bothering him: he couldn’t seem to get comfortable in his polo shirt. He fidgeted, pulling at it, but then he realised: it felt good to show off. He unbuttoned the neck buttons to reveal the top of his hairy pecs and immediately felt better. ���What did we talk about?”

“It was a wide-ranging conversation,” Dr. Li replied. “Of course, you know I will tell you anything important that happens while you are in trance.”

Austin nodded.

“We discussed some of your unconscious desires, and I began to implement a few triggers to help you unlock your true self. Would you like me to explain them to you?”

Austin thought about it. It didn’t seem too important to spend a long time talking about the specific triggers, since Dr. Li was so trustworthy. “Nah, I kind of want to be surprised,” he said.

“I thought you might be.” Dr. Li smiled, looking up from his notebook. “One of your unconscious desires is to be externally controlled while you’re along for the ride. I think that hypnotherapy will be a very good fit for you.”

Austin couldn’t help but agree. It felt good to have someone else at the wheel. There was something about listening to Dr. Li’s gentle, deep voice that made Austin certain that Dr. Li had his best interests at heart.

After scheduling weekly sessions with Dr. Li, Austin left the office and started driving home. But on the way, he had the sudden thought that he should go to the gym. Usually, he preferred morning workouts, but he figured that an afternoon session couldn’t hurt. However, he hadn’t thought to pack gym clothes when he headed out of the house earlier.

While Austin pondered what to do about his lack of gym clothes, he pulled into the parking lot of his gym. As he engaged the parking brake, he turned to see a set of neatly folded gym clothes, and a new pair of runners, sitting in the passenger seat. The instant he looked at them, he suddenly remembered Dr. Li handing him the clothes while he was entranced. He had carried them out to the car and placed them neatly in the passenger seat without even realising what he was doing.

He felt his cock starting to harden in his boxers. Being unaware of his actions was hot. Going to the gym was probably something Dr. Li had told him to do, as well. Austin grabbed the clothes and jumped out of his car, pumped to get into the gym.

In the locker room, though, he felt momentarily confused. Usually, he wore knee-length shorts and a loose T-shirt in the gym, but the clothes Dr. Li had given him were a pair of short-shorts and a tight-fitting tank top that stretched over his thick torso. He felt a bit self-conscious looking in the mirror, but then he remembered it felt good to show off. The judgment of the skinny bros at the gym didn’t matter, because he was going to show off just for him.

The workout felt incredibly good. Austin was totally focussed on lifting while he was in the weight room. No other thoughts entered his head except for setting up his next workout and getting his form perfect. He even jumped on the elliptical, because good cardio is just as important as a good pump. After a couple of hours went by in a blur, Austin found himself walking out the gym’s front door, pumped, sweaty, and full of a pleasurable thrilled sensation.

Later that night, Austin was maintaining his Animal Crossing island when he was overcome with a need to email Dr. Li. Putting the game aside, Austin grabbed his phone and composed an email:

Doctor, I had a great workout today. I got a good baseline knowledge of my strength and endurance for my future sessions. Thank you very much for the new clothes, it felt good to show off my body in more revealing clothes. Austin

Sending the email, Austin watched the screen for a minute without moving until he heard the ping of an incoming email with Dr. Li’s reply:

Good boy.

Austin’s eyes rolled back as he felt a wave of pleasure through his whole body. It felt good to be praised.

For the next week, Austin went to the gym almost every day before work. Without his conscious control, his body implemented a push/pull/legs split, and after three days in the gym, he would find himself without the urge to work out for a day. Instead, he went shopping for new gym clothes because it felt good to show off and his old clothes just didn’t show off his body as much as he wanted. While he was out, he also bought a few new button-up shirts that he thought would show off his chest.

Each night, Austin emailed Dr. Li in the same thread and received a short reply from the hypnotist. Usually, it was some variation of “Good boy,” which made Austin feel wonderful because of how good it felt to be praised. Austin remarked in one email that he had gone out with friends and had two portions at dessert before going out to drink, which he felt badly about. Dr. Li replied, “Do you want to talk about cravings and portion control at our next session?” Austin thought about it, but he trusted Dr. Li to have his best interests at heart, so he replied, “Yes.”

Dr Li’s answer to that was, “Good boy.”

Finally, Austin’s next hypnotherapy session arrived. As he sat down on the couch, he could already feel the urge to fall into a trance again. It would be so easy to follow Dr. Li’s commands and sleep.

…

Wake up.

This time, Austin had no memory of time passing while he was entranced. He was lying on the couch again, and Dr. Li smiled at him as he sat up. “That was a very good session, Austin,” he said, his smooth voice strangely rough. “You fell into trance almost before you sat down.”

Austin nodded. “I was really excited to be hypnotised again, Doctor,” he said. The word “doctor” felt strange on his tongue for some reason. It was Dr. Li’s title, but Dr. Li deserved Austin’s complete respect at all times, and “doctor” just wasn’t enough.

Dr. Li smiled, seemingly at Austin’s discomfort, but that couldn’t be true, because Dr. Li had Austin’s best interests at heart. “You noticed some significant lifestyle changes last week, and you will probably continue to find things changing this week.”

“Yeah, I’m really excited,” Austin paused, feeling a word on the tip of his tongue, and then said, “Sir.” That felt right. When he called Dr. Li “Sir,” Austin felt that tingle of pleasure in his body, the knowledge that he had done something correctly.

Dr. Li’s smile widened. “Good boy,” he said in a low voice.

Austin shuddered. It felt good to be praised. “Thank you, Sir.”

In the waiting room, Austin nodded to another one of Dr. Li’s clients, a sullen young guy in a tracksuit who slouched into the hypnotherapist’s office. As they passed each other, Austin watched the guy’s face slacken, falling into trance before he passed the threshold of the office.

Austin went to the workout he felt the need to complete, but when he sat back down in his car, winded, sweaty and red-faced in his compression gear from a hard sprint at the end of his run, he still felt the need to run another errand. After a moment, the thought came to him: he had to go get his food prep at the grocery store. Feeling pleased that Dr. Li had responded to his concerns about his eating habits, Austin pulled out of the parking lot.

Usually, Austin had trouble resisting the allure of buying a fresh muffin or some other sweets while he was grocery shopping, but today the thought of sugary food repelled him. Instead, he found himself drawn to the spice aisle, where he grabbed soy sauce and a selection of various spices he’d never tried before. His mouth watered at the thought of all the vegetables and lean meat he’d be seasoning for his meal prep.

While meal prepping that night, Austin slowly came to the realisation that Dr. Li had apparently replaced Austin’s sweet tooth with a craving for intense spices. The aroma of his cooking had him choking slightly, but he was excited to get used to his new diet. And instead of craving a beer after dinner, Austin found himself sitting down on the couch with Pornhub loaded and an insistent erection in his new yoga pants. Getting off was the best way to get over his breakup, he thought, and started to browse.

While he was watching a video of a jock getting dropped into trance by the school psychologist, Austin realised that he needed to email Dr. Li. Still jacking off with one hand, he grabbed his phone off the coffee table and typed one-handed:

Sir, My workout went well. I hit a new deadlift PR. I’m going to measure myself tomorrow to update you on the size of my muscles. Grocery shopping and meal prep went very well, and I appreciate my new substitute cravings. Austin

When Dr. Li replied, “Very good, you’re making great progress,” Austin came hard. It felt so good to be praised.

Over the next months, Austin’s life continued to get better and better with Dr. Li’s help. Every time he slept and woke up, Austin felt like he was becoming more and more the person he was always meant to be. He was making great progress at the gym and improving his body composition, he loved to show off, and he felt more able to have fun with his friends than ever before.

One night, about a month into working with Dr. Li, Austin was feeling really good about his body. Almost his whole wardrobe had been replaced, his old gym clothes with shorter cuts and compression fabrics, and his work clothes with tailored pieces that hugged his growing body. Halfway through his evening jerk, all Austin could think about was how much he wanted people to see his sexy body. He ripped open his shirt and took a picture looking up his furry abs to his big pecs. He was so happy he’d decided to stop shaving.

He included it in his email to Dr. Li. His body was at least half the result of Dr. Li’s incredible hypnotherapy, so he figured the Doctor deserved to see the fruits of his labour.

It was only when Dr. Li replied, “Are you thinking of posting that online? I think it might be a good idea,” that Austin realised just how much he wanted people to see his sexy body. He stayed up a little late to set up several accounts on different sites where he could show off.

A few days later, Austin’s ex messaged him, but Austin blocked him. Before starting with Dr. Li, he would have been overjoyed to hear from the guy again, but he was too good to be the property of just one man. Most days that he worked out, Austin brought home a guy from the gym to help him satisfy his need to get off. On off days, he might have a few friends over, especially the guy who had referred him to Dr. Li.

Sleep.

…

Wake up.

Austin was a bit surprised when he woke up in a moving car. He was really good at going into trance these days. When he went for his sessions with Dr. Li, he would go into trance while sitting in the waiting room and not wake up until halfway through his workout afterward.

He was sitting in the middle aisle of a minivan. In the seat beside him was his friend, Dr. Li’s other client, while in the back seat sat Terry, the cute twink from Austin’s first session, the sullen guy who had his sessions after Austin’s, and some huge bodybuilder guy in a stringer tank, probably another client.

Dr. Li turned around from his seat in the front. Beside him in the driver’s seat was a big, muscular man. “Good afternoon, boys,” he said, his smooth voice washing over all of them like a wave. “Thank you for agreeing to accompany me today.”

That was right, Austin thought. He would do whatever Dr. Li requested. It didn’t matter if he didn’t remember, Dr. Li wouldn’t have done anything without confirming that Austin wanted to do it.

The van pulled up and parked somewhere. Looking out the window, Austin could see they were in a different city. A few men walked past the van, all in various states of undress, most of them wearing some kind of gear. Austin knew that he wanted people to see his sexy body, because it felt good to show off, but he wasn’t really much of a gearhead. Why should he cover up his body with something like leather when he could just undress and show off his hairy muscles?

Dr. Li looked around at all of them. The driver, too, seemed to be in a light trance now that he had stopped driving. The hypnotist smiled at them. “Well, are you ready, kinky boys?”

Leather Boy Austin shook his head, his last thoughts slipping away. They couldn’t have been very important. Stepping out of the van, he pawed at his fitted shirt. It was soft linen, not nice, solid, warm leather, and he couldn’t stand the feel of it against his skin. He efficiently stripped out of it, nodding to Dr. Li when the doctor passed him his pink leather chaps. It was too bad that a leather boy like him couldn’t wear it all the time. He just didn’t feel right when his furry muscle bod wasn’t coated in sexy leather gear.

As he sternly put on his gear, getting more and more into the leather boy mindset, Austin watched his rubber boy friend and the sullen sneaker boy get into their gear. The twinky pup boy Terry was yapping at the bodybuilder poser boy. Next to the van, Dr. Li was helping the husky pain boy put on his nipple clamps.

When they were all properly undressed, Leather Boy Austin helped Dr. Li herd the other kinky boys out into the street for the festival. The rest dispersed quickly, but Austin kept close to the hypnotist.

“I’m very glad to have you, Austin,” Dr. Li said, his voice once again resonating through Austin’s mind as they walked. “You were desperately in need of freedom from your own inhibitions when you first came to me. It took many sessions before you started to really blossom into the powerful young man I see before me.”

Leather Boy Austin puffed up his chest with pride at how good it felt to be praised. He was too stoic to respond effusively, but he grunted, “Thank you, Sir.”

“Oh, no need for formality between us now, Austin.” Dr. Li grabbed Austin by the elbow and jerked him around. Austin followed, because Dr. Li always knew what was best for Austin. “In fact, I think it’s time that I properly set you free.” The doctor grabbed Austin’s chin and roughly kissed him.

The kiss triggered all of Austin’s latent memories. He suddenly recalled all the hours of trance with Dr. Li, the careful programming of all his fitness habits, the thought patterns to make him show off and trust his hypnotist. He remembered how Dr. Li had installed the trigger to make him a kinky Leather Boy, but he could also knew that he could be triggered to be a flirty Dumb Boy, and a musky Ass Boy, whenever Dr. Li called him a flirty boy or a musky boy. He could taste the flavour of Dr. Li’s asshole on his tongue, from all the times that he had eaten him out while his triggers were implanted.

Most of all, he remembered loving every second of working with his hypnotist. Like Dr. Li had said at their first session, Austin wanted someone else to be in charge of him. It felt so good to be unknowingly under Dr. Li’s complete control, because he knew Dr. Li would take good care of him.

The sensation of his memories flooding back was so intensely erotic that Austin came into his leather chaps. He bucked into the kiss, tensing his muscles as his body was wracked with pleasure. Dr. Li held firmly onto his jerking body, and a few onlookers whooped and clapped. It felt so good to show off. Austin couldn’t believe that that thought had been implanted so deeply by the hypnotist in their very first session. The thought almost made him cum again.

Dr. Li pulled back from the kiss, and Austin felt two paths open in front of him. He remembered this session, too. These triggers were his own to think, just for himself. He could choose to remember all of the sessions, and he would remain lucid while under hypnosis in the future. He and Dr. Li would be equals from now on. On the other hand, he could lock all the memories away and go back to being unaware of the extent of Dr. Li’s influence over his mind, how the doctor could completely change his personality with a few words.

It was an easy decision.

Leather Boy Austin wasn’t sure how he had cum from a simple kiss from Dr. Li. He could recall that the kiss had been mind-blowing, but what he had been thinking about while they had kissed was hazy. Hopefully, the orgasm wouldn’t affect his performance at the orgy later.

“Thank you, Sir,” Leather Boy Austin grunted, smoothing his mussed hair back into place.

Dr. Li grinned at him in that slightly unsettling way of his. “You are a very good subject, Austin,” he murmured.

It felt good to be praised, Austin thought, shuddering with pleasure.

[muchosbesitos]

could you make a miguel x chubby reader where he’s the readers mortal enemy as he’s the ruler of a much larger kingdom but he wants an alliance for some totally random reason and the reader is completely oblivious to the reasoning behind his actions?

ik it’s dead specific but yh

yes, your majesty

pairing: king miguel o’hara x chubby princess reader

contents: mirror sex, doggy, breeding kink (if you squint), and arranged marriage

author’s note: so this wasn’t exactly like the request (i’m sorry) but i hope you enjoy regardless :)

word count: 4.7K+

Sounds of screaming and agony awoke Miguel up from his slumber, springing up in his bed covered in a cold sweat. If he tried hard enough, he could usually hear the word 'help!' escaping from his brother's mouth. The sounds had been engraved in his mind for so long that he could usually fall asleep soon after the dreams, but the sweet relief of sleep didn't hit him no matter how much he tossed and turned. He'd been so lost in his mind that he'd forgotten about the woman laying down next to him, her presence providing no comfort towards the situation.

"Sire, sorry to disturb your sleep but your father wishes to have a word with you," one of the maids called out, her fingers gently tapping against his door. "I'll be right there," Miguel responded, rubbing his hand over his eyes as the sun peeked through the white silk curtains. He got up from his bed, pulling on the first pair of pants that he could find before taking out his wallet. "How much do I owe you for the night?" he asked the woman laying on the bed, her eyes barely getting adjusted to the light. She looked visibly disappointed that he was pushing her away but she was quick to hide her reaction.

"Two hundred," she responded, brushing her hair off to the side as she zipped up the dress she'd worn last night. "I trust that this won't get out to the press," he warned her, passing her three hundred dollar bills before walking back to his closet to get a shirt. Once he finished making himself presentable, the woman had already left without another word. Miguel walked down the halls of the palace, the portraits of him and his brother haunting him as he walked to his father's office. Before he had the chance to knock, his father had already told him to come inside.

The walls of the room seemed to be closing in as Miguel looked over at his father, meeting his sharp green eyes. "Sit down, we have a lot to talk about," his father motioned him to the seat in front of his desk, Miguel’s feet begrudgingly taking him to the spot. "I hope you know how expensive these little habits of yours are getting. You think that you're being sneaky but you're not," George started off, not bothering to look over at Miguel anymore as he started reading off a report. "I don't see how it's a concern. The press doesn't know anything about them," Miguel responded, folding his arms across his chest as he leaned back on the chair.

"It will be a concern when you're engaged," his father deadpanned, finally looking up from the report at him. Miguel couldn't help but start laughing at the absurdity of the situation, his chuckles dying down after he saw the look on his father's face. "Engaged? And to who?" Miguel decided to entertain the situation, even if he was certain he wouldn't go through with it. "The youngest princess of Nova Atlantea," George responded, his disgust evident at the way that he even uttered the words. Miguel took a couple seconds to let it register in his brain, laughing once more as he stared at his father. You can't expect me to marry her. The kingdom has Gabriel under captivity if you recall."

"Which should be enough incentive for you to get married to my daughter," the king from Nova Atlantea bellowed, King James, walking in and sitting next to Miguel. Miguel glanced over at him, motioning him to continue with the statement. "Your kingdom has plenty of resources to offer, from military equipment to natural resources, while we have your brother. I’d say it's a pretty even deal," the king added, a devilish smile appearing on his smile after he finished speaking. Miguel’s teeth grinded together, looking back at his father for some kind of backup to no avail.

Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose as he thought about what the two men were telling him, looking down at the floor like he wished for it to open and shallow him up. “I do have one request for the marriage. I’d like for my daughter to remain blissfully unaware of what's taking place here. Make her believe that you've been longing for her since you first saw her or something," the king spoke up, making Miguel look up. Even though the idea of marrying his rival filled him up with inexplicable rage, he was also aware that it was his fault that Gabriel had been captured. "I suppose that sounds like a fair arrangement then."

Miguel hesitated to sign the treaty that was placed in front of him a couple minutes later, his hand shaking as he held the pen in his hand. His handwriting came out sloppy as he essentially signed off his freedom, locked down to the duties of the kingdom. "How do you feel about coming to dinner later? I’d love to have you as a guest," the king told him, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. It was more of an order than a request, but Miguel still found himself nodding along to what the king was saying. He waited for the heavy footsteps to fade away, going off to his chamber to analyze the situation in a more clear light.

Miguel had spent most of the day in his bed, tossing a ball up at the ceiling as the wheels in his head turned to figure out a way to get out of the situation. Unfortunately, the whole arrangement was bound by printed words thus bounding him as well to fulfill his part of the deal. Even if he was doing this to free his brother from the prison he'd been forced in, he couldn't help but think about what you would think of his deception. He got up when one of the servants came in, putting a suit down on the corner of his bed for the dinner. He begrudgingly got out of bed, running a hand through his hair while he walked into the bathroom to get ready.

You were in the middle of getting ready for the dinner, your father telling you to dress up beforehand. One of the servants came in, almost buzzing with the news that she had to share with you. "Your majesty, King O’Hara from Nueva York’s going to be at the dinner. Just so you're prepared," she told you, buttoning up the top of your dress while you viewed your appearance in the mirror. You'd never been too interested in the whole diplomacy of the kingdom, being the youngest out of your siblings, but you were aware of the fact that the kingdoms hated one another.

Your mind was running on overdrive as you walked down the stairs, seeing the king already standing there and holding his hand out for you to grab. "Your majesty," Miguel greeted you, his sultry voice melting like butter in your ears. You returned the acknowledgment, walking with him to the dining room. Your father had been frustrated after you ran off every possible suitor that he presented to you, but you never thought of him to be so desperate to seek out an alliance with the kingdom of Nueva York. The dining room was a paradox in itself, a massive room with more than thirty seats but yet only you two and your father were present in the room.

"Pass me the salt, please," your father told Miguel, thanking him once he'd gotten what he'd requested. You looked over at Miguel, the only tell that he was annoyed was the vein bulging in his forehead. You decided to break the silence, wondering why your father and Miguel were acting so cordial around one another. "Excuse me father, but why is the king of Nueva York here?" You spoke up, taking the white cloth from your lap to wipe your mouth. "I'm glad you asked, actually. He's here because the two of you are scheduled to get married by the end of the month," your father responded, your face immediately dropping at the bombshell he'd dropped.

While you'd heard about your siblings getting along with their arranged suitors and some of the romance novels you'd read presenting the idea that love was possible in those arrangements, the idea wasn't something that thrilled you in the slightest. "I thought the kingdoms hated one another," you elaborated, hoping that your father had a temporary lapse in judgement and would be reminded of their positions. "I'm aware of the previous rivalries that there might've occurred. But me and the king are willing to push those aside and unite the kingdoms as one," your father responded, speaking to you like you were one of the multiple news reporters he had to deal with rather than his daughter. "And what if I say no?"

Your father placed the fork he was holding down with force, glaring at you while Miguel was busy cutting into his piece of steak. "The deal is signed. There's no room for you to say no without a bloodshed that you'll end up being responsible for," your father told you, a finality to his voice as he spoke. You decided to remain quiet for the remainder of the dinner, your eyes occasionally drifting off to look at Miguel. You could see that he wasn't exactly eager to go along with the marriage either, but he was playing the facade very well for your father.

You headed out to the balcony after dinner, looking out as the stars shone throughout the night sky. It was the one place in the kingdom where you could see the clarity of the night, no light pollution affecting the view. You jumped a little when you felt someone's hand on your shoulder, turning around to face Miguel. He stood next to you, watching the stars by your side before turning to look at you after a while. "I'm sorry that this marriage isn't exactly what you wanted, your majesty. But I think we can get through this whole ordeal much easier if we try our best to just get along," he spoke up, just loud enough for you to hear.

"I suppose. But you'll have to stop calling me 'your majesty', my name works just fine," you responded, looking over at him. The way that the moonlight shone across his features and the way that his eyes almost seemed to compete with the stars made you realize that maybe falling in love with him wouldn't be the worst thing in the universe. At least, from the physical aspect. "What do you like to do? Just so I have an idea of what to do for our date tomorrow," he told you, his hand snaking its way down to your waist as he held you close to him. "Most of what I do is solely for the purpose of benefiting the public view of the royals. But I’d like to go out for a picnic with you if that's something you'd be willing to do."

The two of you kept talking for most of the night, simply getting to know one another and you found yourself not hating the encounter completely. While you weren't head over heels for what he shown you today, you were interested in uncovering more details about him and his life. He left the castle after the lights had been turned off, leaving you out in the balcony with your thoughts. You looked down at him as he walked through the castle grounds, waving over at him once he turned around. If his eyes didn't beat the splendor of the stars, his smile while he waved back at you certainly did.

A loud knock on your door awoke you the next day, one of the servants poking their head through your bedroom door. "Your majesty, sorry to disturb your slumber but King O’Hara is downstairs waiting for you," she announced, shutting the door after she finished speaking to let you get ready. You got up from the comfort of your sheets, walking into the bathroom to get ready for the day. Your mind began running through all the different possibilities of what was the king's intention through going with this, your mind going back to the fact that his brother was a prisoner in the castle's gallows.

Miguel ended up taking you to the lakeside in his kingdom, a blanket set up with some food on it. You figured that you would disclose the information about his brother's whereabouts, not wanting to force him into the marriage despite the document your father mentioned. "You're agreeing to this because my father promised you Gabriel’s freedom, correct?" You inquired, watching as his brows furrowed before he schooled his expression to return back to normal. He didn't say anything to confirm or deny your suspicions, but he didn't really need to.

"I can show you where's located after we're done with the date, I don't feel comfortable holding someone's life on the line just for the sake of marriage," you told him, pouring in a bit of the champagne he brought into the glass. "You don't have to do that," he spoke up, his voice drifting off with the wind with how quiet he was being. "But I want to. My father tends to make agreements without going through with it," you added, handing him a glass of champagne. Though the conversation from earlier lingered, you ended up enjoying the rest of the evening with him by the lakeside.

The two of you ended up at the palace a couple hours later, your heels clicking on the stairway down to the basement. Miguel followed behind you, staying as quiet as possible just in case that the guards were present. You knew that the guards were out on their break but you couldn't help but be amused at the sight of the giant of a man sneaking around like a mouse. You grabbed the keys from one of the drawers, guiding him to the cell that Gabriel was currently being held. While most of the people that were captured in the castle deserved their fate, Gabriel had been caught for running around in the kingdom as a teenager.

You opened the door to his cell, watching as Gabriel’s gaze adjusted to the lights turning on. He jumped up to his feet when he realized that it wasn't the guards bringing him food, his arms wrapping around Miguel once he saw him. "Mi hermano. Cuánto te extrañé," Gabriel whispered, engulfed in Miguel’s body by the tightness of the hug. (my brother. how i missed you) "Lo siento por dejarte tirado," Miguel’s voice cracked as he spoke, his voice sounding raw from the sheer shock. (i’m sorry for leaving you behind) You stood guard as the brothers had their moment, looking out through the door just to make sure that nobody was coming nearby. "Aorry to ruin the moment but the guards are scheduled to come back in about five minutes," you spoke up, leading them out of the castle.

"Gracias. I appreciate the times that you brought me food and now for freeing me," Gabriel spoke up, turning to look back at you with shiny eyes. You'd taken the responsibility of giving Gabriel food when the guards forgot, which was most of the time since the viewed the prisoners as something less than the corpses underneath the castle. Miguel turned to look at you, a softness in his eyes as he took you in. "Thank you for everything, your majesty," he told you, walking out with Gabriel afterwards. You couldn't help but feel bad as you saw Gabriel limping alongside Miguel, Miguel’s arm wrapped around his shoulders as he helped him maintain his balance.

You were awaken from your nap after the brothers left by your father's screaming, his hands in his hair as he paced throughout the halls of the palace. "What did you do with the prisoner?! There's no way in hell he's going to get married to you now!" Your father bellowed as you walked out of your room, shaking your shoulders out of anger. "I don't know what you're talking about," you tried to deflect from the accusation, pushing him off you when your father was called by one of the maids. He turned to give you a dirty look, walking off with the maid to do what he was beckoned to do.

A week passed by since the last time you saw Miguel, expecting him to end the marriage arrangement but it was still on. You were expecting that he end things after what he wanted, but the announcement was still set for the union of the two kingdoms. Your father was still wary behind every single one of your actions, keeping guards lingering behind you despite how sleek he thought he was being. Now it was time for the two of you to announce your engagement to the world, every member of the press surrounding the kingdoms invited to the party. Your father was stressing out over the party, making sure that everything was up to standards and that every important person had rsvp'd.

Your maids helped you to button up the dress you had on, the dress making you look like a princess from a fairytale. The red dress clinged to every single one of your curves as you headed out to the ballroom, seeing that everyone had already come inside. Miguel came over to you, offering you his arm to wrap around before he lead you inside. The reporters began taking pictures of the two of you, the flash of the cameras almost blinding you as you walked through the crowd. You sat down next to your father on the throne, Miguel standing next to you. your father welcomed the crowd, his voice echoing throughout the room as he got to the point of what the party is about.

You spent the party talking with Miguel, spending most of the afternoon by his side. "So.. why'd you keep the arrangement going despite you getting what you wanted?" You asked him once the reporters were out of earshot, taking a sip from your glass of wine. "I have my reasons, your majesty. Plus, I've been liking getting to know you," he responded, waving over for Gabriel to sit down in front of him. You saw through the corner of your eye that your father was scowling, his eyes full of bitter venom as he saw Gabriel interacting with Miguel. You turned to look back at the boys, talking to them about the things to do around the kingdom and what your favorite views were around to diverge from what your father was doing.

"May I have this dance, your highness?" Miguel asked you, extending his hand out for you to grab. You took hold of his hand, letting him guide you to the middle of the dance floor. You placed one of your hands on his shoulder, the other still in his grasp as he moved you with elegance and grace to the rhythm of the classical song playing. "I thought i told you to stop calling me your majesty," you whispered in his ear, his face contorting into a smile as he twirled you around. "Yes, but you never did say anything about your highness," he responded, the dimples on his face only deepening with the way that you grumbled.

"Where'd you learn how to dance?" You asked him, watching him as he moved in synchrony to whatever song was playing. "My mother taught me before she died. She used to say that the two most important things as a potential suitor were knowing how to dance and how to treat a woman correctly," he told you, his hand wrapped around your waist as he pulled you close to his body. You leaned in when he dipped his head down, pressing your lips against his. The cameras started surrounding the two of you but you couldn't think of anything else apart from how good and how right his lips felt against yours.

The rest of the party was uneventful, though Miguel managed to keep it interesting with his stupid jokes and remarks. One of the things that you liked the most about him was that he found a way to be funny, without even putting that much effort into the jokes he was making. He got up when his assistant came over, announcing that it was time for them to depart. He dipped his head down, his lips pressing against the back of your hand. Gabriel let out a small wolf whistle to tease him, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he made his way out of the ballroom. "I'll see you at the wedding, your highness."

While you weren't looking forward to the wedding at first, you could say that you were slowly falling in love with who and what Miguel presented himself to be. The wedding ceremony had been short, mostly just for the sake of getting the two kingdoms united rather than the unison of the two beings involved. You'd convinced your father not to do a huge party afterwards, wanting to keep it as discreet and short as possible. The ride back home to the castle was quiet, Miguel’s hand lingering on your thigh as the ring sparkled from the sun's rays. You waved at some of the citizens that had come out to see the ceremony from the outside, watching their faces light up when you acknowledged them.

"I don't think you should do that," you told Miguel just as soon as he made the motion to carry you up the stairs, feeling a bit embarrassed as you looked over at him. "And why not? You're my wife now," he responded, his brows slightly furrowed in confusion. "I just think that maybe you'll struggle too much getting me up the stairs. It's fine, I can walk," you assured him, letting out a small yelp when he took you into his arms. You wrapped your hands around his neck as he led you inside the castle with ease, his footsteps remaining even as he took you up the stairs. You were aware of the fact that he was strong, you could practically see the way his muscles bulged underneath the suits he wore but few people had done this before with you.

"Don't ever insinuate that I can't carry you around because you're too heavy. Never that, mi vida," he told you once he set you down on the bed, his lips trailing down from your chin to your neck. He left little marks in his wake, soft moans escaping from your lips as you gripped onto his hair. He stopped for a moment, holding your hips as he looked down at you. "We don't have to do anything you don't want to," he assured you, his hands gently squeezing your hips to accentuate his point. "I want you to fuck me, please."

He brought over the mirror that you changed in front of, putting in front of your bed before he went back to kissing your neck. "Look at how pretty you look. I’m gonna fuck you until your little head gets rid of those stupid ideas that you're heavy," he whispered, his teeth gently biting onto the side of your neck as he left his mark. You simply nodded in response, your mind struggling to compute the right words to respond to him. He brought you over to the bed, placing you down on your back as he pushed the skirt part of the dress up. "Such pretty white panties, are these all for me?" He asked you, his finger curling around the band of them. "All for you."

He slid them down with ease, his mouth trailing up your leg while his hand massaged the other one at the same time. He left open mouthed kisses on his way up, his lips wrapped around your thighs as he kissed the inner part. "I wanna taste your pussy so bad, but we have plenty of time for that later. The only place you'll be coming on tonight is my cock," he whispered into your skin like a promise, unbuckling his belt and sliding his pants down. He helped you with the process of taking off the wedding dress once he finished undressed, leaving you only in the garter and veil.

He pumped himself with one hand, gesturing for you turn around with the other one. You were face to face with your reflection, being able to see everything that Miguel was doing as he slowly pushed his cock inside. Though your cunt was wet from the time that he took kissing you, it still felt like he was stretching you past your every limit. Your grip on the sheets below you tightened as he pushed his cock deeper inside, your velvet walls engulfing his cock every time that he moved. He bottomed out after your pussy had opened up a bit more for him, his hand gripping the bottom of your veil to make you look up.

"You see that? You look so pretty when you're all stuffed up with my cock. I wish you could see yourself the same way that J do you," he told you, looking straight at your face in the mirror. And for a moment there, you could see yourself the same way that he saw you. You looked past the imperfections that usually tormented you, seeing yourself as someone that's worthy of everything that's happening. Miguel took his cock out and you were about to protest, his cock coming back inside killing the words in your throat. You looked at yourself in the mirror as he slowly thrusted into you, his hands now gripping the globes of your ass.

Your juices flowed down from your thighs down to the sheets as he sped up and you found yourself unable to break the gaze with him that held through the mirror. Your mouth parted as he pushed deeper inside, the tip of his cock almost near your cervix. Not only was his cock big, but the girth that it held was only providing you extra pleasure. "Such a gorgeous pussy, tightening up all around me like that," he babbled, your mouth contorting into an 'o' the faster he thrusted into you. His heavy balls slapped against your pussy every time he went inside, the angle allowing for them to hit your clit.

You brought your hand down to your clit, rubbing small circles around the nub as he thrusted into you, his pace unrelenting. While you had expected for this to be an exchange of love between the two of you, it turned out to be the result of just sheer desperation for one another. You didn't mind it though, not with the way that your back was arching as you pushed your ass back into him. You felt your vision start to blur from the tears streaming down your cheeks, his claws slightly digging into your ass. The pain contorted with the pleasure, the coil inside of you threatening to snap with how tight it was becoming.

He brought his foot up on the bed, the new angle allowing for him to hit your g-spot every time his cock went back inside of you. Your nails were digging into the sheets, your forehead covered in sweat as he fucked deeper and faster into you. "Oh fffuck, right there. Please don't stop, I'm so close," you whimpered out, your mind completely blank from anything but just coming around his cock. Your walls clamped around him tightly, the coil inside of you snapping once your walls unclenched. Your juices coated his shaft completely, some of it dripping down to the silk underneath the two of you. Miguel continued to thrust into you as he fucked you through the orgasm, his thrusts starting to get sloppy and more vigorous.

His cum painted your walls white as he came, his seed shooting deep into your cervix with the hope that you'd end up bearing his child soon. He took his cock out of your pussy, looking at your blissed out expression through the mirror before turning you over. He leaned down, giving you a small kiss on the lips when you felt his cock already starting to harden up once more for the second round. "I did say I was gonna fuck you dumb, mi amor," he whispered, his lips coming down to your neck as he sucked on the skin there.

[mcondance]

other side of the game; hobie brown

summary // hobie swings by when you’re cleaning your room, and you know exactly what he wants.

cw // dubcon-ish (you say stuff akin to no but like.. you want it. it’s just a game you n hobie play), they talk a lot of shit, missionary

extras // you and hobie r Black so i don't wanna hear anything abt the grammar i used! "it's supposed to be doesn't" kill yourself idc, the song has. nothing to do with what happens in this fic btw it just.. it makes sense when you read it and it helped me write

wc // 2.6k

song shoutouts // special thanks to other side of the game by erykah badu and i get lonely by janet jackson

signing off // thank you to poetnon for this idea i hope you like this <3

.

.

.

you know the second you hear the knocks at your window that you won't be getting anything else done today. he does this every fucking time.

walking across your room, you unlock the window for your boyfriend, eyes meeting his as you psyche yourself up for what you know is coming.

you return your attention to your desk, and with your back turned to him, you hear him slide his lanky body through the frame, landing softly on your carpeted floor.

"you busy?" he muses pointlessly, already shrugging his jacket off and reaching down to untie his boots. player one, ready?

"yeah," you hum pointlessly too, hands fiddling with the trinkets on your desk. maybe if you don't look at him, you won't cave. player two, ready?

"what you up to?" his voice grows closer. you close your eyes, breathing deep and slow to try to build your resolve, but you can hear him inching towards you, the clinging of his belts giving his movements away.

"cleanin' my room." you spin around, figuring you'd face your doom instead. his shoes are off now, placed up against the wall under your window. and now the game has started.

"mhm. well don't let me stop you," he smiles, and you wish you could say that it didn't put another dent in your already rusty resolve, but it does. with shaking hands crossed in front of you, you push yourself up and away from your desk and move across your room to your pile of clothes, folding shit hastily, already so fucking nervous.

he takes your place leaning against your desk and scans your room, taking in how much you’ve already gotten done. it makes him feel a little less bad about what he’s going to do. “looks good already. how long you been cleanin’?”

“since like, 10.”

“mhm. ‘s 2:24 now. think you’re ready for a break?” you snap your head towards him, rolling your eyes and screwing your lips up at the implications of his words.

“not the kinda break you’re talking about,” you sneer, rolling your eyes again as you return your focus to the meaningless pile of clothes.

“and what kinda break is that?”

“the kinda break when you end up inside me. i don’t have time for it.” you don’t face him as you speak. you can’t. if you do, it’s all over. you don’t want it to end just yet. it’s fun. it always is.

“what, you think ‘m just tryna get in your pants? i jus’ think my girl should have a little rest, yeah?” at his words you drop the shirt in your hand, switching gears to organize your nightstand instead.

“you’re lying. you always do this.”

“do what?”

“this. you come here and sweet talk me and the next thing i know i’m under you and my room doesn’t get cleaned. i’m not doing this today.”

he’s silent— your brain isn’t. you know it’s only a matter of time until he’s doing exactly what he’s doing now.. wrapping his slim fingers around your waist and pulling you back onto him.

speaking directly against your ear, he finally comes out with what he wants. “take a break, baby, lemme make you feel good." his lips meet your neck, ghosting over your heated skin.

"can't, hobes, i gotta clean up,” you whine, but it's futile at this point, cause you're already leaning back onto him, already tilting your neck to the side to give him more access, already dropping the half-empty water bottle in your hand.

"you sure, love? y'can clean up after we're done, hm? i'll help you.” he sounds earnest, like he really cares. you shake your head no, but you let him pull you away from your desk and turn you around. "gotta clean," you repeat, but you let him push you down onto your ruffled sheets.

"then clean." he’s standing over you now with his hands tucked into his pockets, and he motions towards the pile of clothes with his head, knowing eyes fixed on your frame sprawled out on your bed. from here, the light frames him perfectly, and he looks so damn pretty. maybe you'll blame what you do next on that. doesn't matter now, though. eyes meeting, you both know you're not getting up— seconds pass with you both staring, a silent confirmation, and hobie knows your answer.

shrugging, he leans down with his hands still in his pockets, placing a damning kiss on your lips, murmuring "gave you a chance, baby. knew you didn't give a fuck about cleanin'." and he's right, embarrassingly so, so you roll your eyes, channeling your faux-frustration into a rough kiss, curling your hands under the straps of his t-shirt.

he falls forward, hands flying from his pockets to balance himself on top of you. smiling against your lips, he speaks again, “see. . you want it. you’re desperate.”

his hips start to rock against yours, stacked belts clinging against your dangling legs. hands finding the side of his face, you huff at his irritating need to almost shame you, to show for some made-up record that no matter how much you turn him down, you want him. you need him.

so you push your hips against his, humming at the groan that flies from his lips. tapping your thigh, he ushers you up the bed, your bodies turning until your head is laid on your pillows.

he reaches down between you two, sliding your shorts to the side to rub his fingers against your already sloppy cunt, smiling when he feels and sees how wet you are. “cleaning my ass,” he jokes, kissing you before you can get upset again.

sliding his fingers up, he brushes the pads of them over your sensitive clit, swallowing the pretty moans that start to flow from your spit-slicked lips. hobie knows you like the back of his hand, knows just how much pressure you need, how tight his circles have to be, knows how to make you cum hard, and cum fast.

it’s always like this when he comes by with the goal to distract you— you always end up under him with whatever you have on pushed hastily to the side, fully clothed and his hand between your legs, shaking arms wrapped around his neck. it’s desperate, really, both your need to get off.

though you try to remain steadfast, try to act like you don’t want this, the way your hips move against his hand gives you away. “did all that sayin’ ‘no’, bu’ look.” he points his eyes down, towards where his hand is hovering above your cunt, fingers glistening.

“‘course ‘m wet, don’t mean shit.”

“it don’t? that’s wild, love,” he slides two fingers in without warning and presses his thumb against your clit before he starts his circles again, other hand moving to hold you in place when you thrash against him, “cause last time i had t’almost beg. ‘n the time before that, i did beg.”

you know what he’s trying to say, and it makes heat rise in your face and makes your eyes close, cause you can’t face him. no matter, though, cause he grabs your face, spits, “open your eyes. look a’me.”

you open your eyes and meet his low ones, ones that are always black with lust, ones that bore straight through you and make you feel so small and dirty underneath their gaze. he nods at your obedience, and then his fingers catch that spot inside you, and the licks of flame inside you morph into something like a fire, lighting you up with pleasure. you’re close, so close.

“you’re gettin’ easier, baby. act all you want, you’re desperate.” that sends you over the edge, and it’s embarrassing. it’s filthy, how he just has to talk to you a little mean and you’re cumming on his fingers, shaking as you choked out sobs of his name, like you weren’t just telling him to leave you alone 10 minutes ago.

before you even come down he’s kissing you, pulling your shirt up to free your tits.

"fuck you." you spew as you separate, but you still pull him closer, position him where his clothed dick rubs right against your cunt, kept away by the fabric of his sweats and your shorts that have almost rolled back into place.

"you will, in a second," he bites back, a wicked smile plastered across his ethereal features— features that are driving you fucking insane.

you’ve grown sick of his mouth— fisting his hair, you yank hard, drawing a pained moan from him and another drag of his cock against you. “you keep talking all this shit, but you’re the one who came up to my window looking for some ass. i don’t wanna hear it.”

“yeah? and you’re the one who kept going on about havin’ to clean your room, but i got you in bed so easy. we’re both fucked.”

and it’s true. the statement grounds both of you, and you both realize just where you are— inches apart, seconds away from what you both want. snapping out of it at the same time, your hands tangle together as you reach for each other’s bottoms, you freeing his pretty dick and him ripping your shorts right down the middle.

you laugh at his haste, his deep chuckles mixing with your giggles, foreheads meeting as you both calm down after your frenzy.

“‘m sorry. still forget how strong i am.”

“‘s fine. just fuck me already.”

“ehhh,” hand around his cock, sliding his tip up and down your waiting cunt, he teases once more, “y’sure you don’ wanna clean? room’s still a bit messy.”

“hobie, i swear to god, if you do not put it in me now i will pin you down and take it.” reading your eyes, he can tell you’re dead serious.

“‘s much as i’d love that,” he slides in with a pretty groan, and you wrap your arms around his neck with a throaty whine, “i want you like this.” pushing his hips up, he seats himself inside you.

breathing heavy, you both just take a second to calm down, to bask in the feeling of being intertwined with your lover again, no matter how annoying they can be. with closed eyes, you throw your head back, resting on your pillows. hobie takes that as a sign to spread kisses down your jaw, grinning when you smile.

“move,” you breathe, shifting your hips to give him better access.

that first stroke always drives you both crazy. the slow pull out, faces contorting in pleasure, bodies getting closer and closer until the next best thing is merging together again, you pushing down and him pushing up and then his cock takes its rightful place inside you, sensitive tip leaking against your cervix.

“‘m all the way in, love, can feel the end of you,” he murmurs against your neck, and you nod, curling your arms tighter around his neck. then, he just grinds, circles his hips, just barely pulling out.

it’s perfect, the way your bodies move against each other, giving and receiving pleasure at the end of the game you both love playing. with fluttery glides and soft slides, and pitchy whines and deep groans, you dunk yourselves into that familiar pool of feeling, let it fill up your noses and mouths until it’s spilling over, your bodies shaking and jerking against each other.

blissed out of your fucking minds, your lips meet the others, lazy connects of your lips that you can just barely call kisses. they’re slack-jawed and sloppy, spit-swapping, the lewd smacks filling the air, mixing with the harmony of fucked-out sounds.

slowly, hobie starts moving his hips around differently, on a mission now, one that has you tensing up, cause it never takes him long to find it, that sweet spot that has you—

“fuck,” you drawl, throwing your head back, and hobie just smiles and keeps his hips moving that way, keeps his cock kissing that same spot.

"that's it?" he hums.

when you try to articulate what you're feeling, try to tell him "yeah", the words never come. instead, he's raising up to spread your legs and balancing himself above you, switching from slow grinds to deep thrusts that have him pressing against that spot even more now.

now, with him slapping his hips against yours and his thumb on your clit, the sound fills the room, skin against skin. jolting against him, his eyes are still trained on yours, fixed on the furrow of your eyebrows and the o-shape your lips make, focused on how pretty you look when he fucks you.

your choppy moans fill his ears, the background to his barrage of words that fill yours. sentences about how pretty you look, how good you feel, how he just wants to fuck you forever, and then for the second time without warning, you cum again, right when he says something about wanting to keep you fucked and filled, "'s why i keep comin' over, cause i wan' you full of me all the time."

it's gentle, this time, streams of feeling flowing softly through you. hobie makes sure to keep his pace steady through it all, makes sure he prolongs it as long as he can.

when you come down, you're pushing up on his hips with shaking hands, nodding your head and telling him to move. he doesn't waste a second, lifts up and grabs your headboard with one hand to give himself some leverage, his other hand resting on your calf. this time around, he's forgotten all that slow shit.

he rocks his hips hard and fast, jolting you up, and your back rubs against your sheets, your hands fly to your thighs to ground yourself.

"keep 'em open," he slurs, eyes fixed on where he disappears inside you, on the way you cream on his cock, his pretty dick painted white. "watch," he tells you, "she swallow me up so nice." his tone is awe-filled, brown eyes lit up at the visual of you taking him so well.

your eyes roll back in your head, another wave of arousal overtaking you and you can't watch any longer or you'll go crazy, so you watch his face instead. watch his pretty fucking face contort in pleasure, watching his eyebrow piercings dance in the light, watch his sharp jaw clench when you clench around him.

and god, it’s building up again. how could have ever even thought you’d clean up today, when this is so much better. “you gonna cum?” he asks, cause he knows your tells better than you do. you nod shakily, hands gripping onto your thighs so hard you swear you feel your fingers going numb.

“then do it.” it’s an order, really, and you know what he means. hand flying to your clit, you rub messy circles, and hobie moves his hand from your calf to your thigh to keep you open for him. nodding with wild eyes, he watches you make yourself cum, watches your circles became sloppy side-to-side motions while you whine and almost fucking cry, watches your cunt clamp down on him and suck him in “like she don’t wanna let go.”

through the mind-fuck in your head, you hear him groan loud, and then he’s cumming too, gripping your headboard so hard you swear you hear a soft crack, but fuck the headboard, cause hobie looks so pretty when he cums that it don’t even matter.

laughing, blissed out of your minds, hobie lays down on top of you, breathing hard and sweaty as shit, just like you are.

“i really did need to clean my room though, hobie.” you hum, turning your head to face him.

“i wasn’t just tryin’ to get in your pants, love, i was serious about helpin’,” he mumbles against your neck. and he does help. by the time he’s sliding back through your window and kissing you goodbye, your room is perfect.

[grimm-writings]

hihi >_< could i request chilchuck x reader, maybe with reader flirting with him constantly, and then getting flustered when he actually decides to flirt back?

“what a flirt!”

…ft! chilchuck x gn! reader

…tags! fluff, suggestive comments, grimm trying so hard not to make the flirting sound cring, mention of chilchuck's wife

…wc! 698

…notes! my stupid doodle of chil with an iron is at 4203 notes at the time of writing my fic blog reputation has been squandered by the shitpost… but i finally got motivation do actually WRITE who cheered!!!! hope you enjoy and apologies for the wait!!

“Gosh, Chil, with those hands of yours you could easily please a partner!”

With his back turned away from you all you can hear from the picklock doing his job is a very deep inhale.  You can’t miss the way the tips of his ears glow red, even in the dim dungeon light.  You know there’s a ‘rule’ to not disturb the half-foot as he works but… goodness it’s just too tempting!  It’s not like there’s any harm in it!

When Chilchuck finishes his task he stands up and glares at you pointedly.  You return it with a bright smile.  “Thank you very much!” you chorus with the party oh, so politely.  The rest have partially given up on convincing you to not say or do anything while Chlichuck is busy.  He still gets the job done, at least…

Travels continue, and you find yourself trying to match a tall half-foot’s pace.  You have to slow down considerably but in your head all you can think about is how adorable Chilchuck might look if he tried to match your pace instead.

Right as you were about to drift off into fantasy, Chilchuck cleared his throat.  “You got somethin’ to say or is your head in the clouds again?”

You giggle.  “No, just thinking about how handsome you are.”  Once more, you relish in how flustered Chilchuck gets, attempting to speed walk ahead of you and start up a chat with Laios instead.

It’s so irritating.  Chilchuck can’t say or do anything without you making some kind of dumb comment!  He’s convinced even in a life or death situation you’d find some way to make him choke on his words and stumble.  You probably would let it happen if it means you can get the jump on him and humiliate him once again!

Before Chilchuck knows it he’s gritting his teeth together, his seething not going unnoticed.  Laios says quietly enough so you aren’t quite able to pick out what’s being said, “why not fight fire with fire?”

It’s an alright suggestion, sure, but that means… having to flirt back with you.  Chilchuck doesn’t know what constitutes flirting really.  His old flame used to say that he only ever honeyed her up when he’s a few drinks in.  Is that really what it will take to get you off his ass?

His question would be answered just a few hours later.  Combat isn’t Chilchuck’s forte, so once again he’s hiding behind some rock somewhere, slightly elevated off the floor.  That way he could avoid any collateral damage.

So he hoped at least.  A swing of a tail from the creature, slamming on the rock floor, proves him otherwise.  The ground collapses beneath Chilchuck and for a second he internally laments that he’s going to acquire another spot of brain damage.

But he doesn’t.  Instead, your arms easily catch underneath his knees and torso, holding him almost like a bride.  It’s you, and you look just so relieved, off guard.

Almost on instinct, Chilchuck lets the words slip.

“Looks like I fell for you.”

It’s so awful.  It’s so pathetic.  At least your pick–up lines were actually creative.  He almost wishes you’d let him break a bone or two.  Marcille’s healing might actually hurt less.

What he doesn’t expect at all is how your face deepens in colour and dusts across your face and cheeks, how your eyes widen and your jaw hangs open.  In your hold, Chilchuck feels your arms shaking.  Chilchuck only had to think for a second before realising that you seriously can’t take what you dish out.

The smug, brash grin that makes its way onto his face could infuriate anyone else, but you just feel your knees buckle.  “C’mon, be an angel and let me down, yeah?  Can’t have you dropping me, though I know my charm is irresistible.”

Funny how just a spot of encouragement can bring out this side of him.  Even as you do as you’re told with a pat on the head and, “why, thank you” being cooed at you, you know this isn’t the end of this.

Chilchuck will make sure you never forget how his words make you feel.