#also posting now cause if i don’t the longer I look at it the more I’m gonna cry cause I shoulda changed his left arm position

[into-the-feniverse]

This song has been stuck in my head all week so Dabi’s turn for a music induced drawing session ig

[minranghae]

Taste | 18+

》 pairing: c.san x f!reader

》 genre: fluff, smut, angst if you squint really hard

》 warnings: friend’s brother!san, female reader, general silliness, stubborn reader, san loves to tease, hes a sweetie too ofc, smut, piv, oral (f. receiving), fingering, pet names (angel, baby, etc.), coworkers, san bites reader one (1) time, barely proofread, unprotected, lmk if i missed any

》 wc: 5.2k

》 hello! i am back from the dead with my second fic and second installment in the senses series. i do apologize that this took so long, but i do plan on releasing more stuff soon-ish. i'm working on a longer series, so who knows what'll hapen lol. also! i am cross posting on ao3 now. the user is femdoms, so check it out if you are interested. finally, i just want to say thank you for reading and i hope you enjoy this!

 “God, I really can’t stand you, San! Stop following me, pervert!”

“Yeah, whatever, just get in so we can talk,” he yells to you with his arm hanging out the window of his car, an annoyed, yet amused smirk covering his face.

“No way!” You yell over your shoulder, too embarrassed to face him both physically and figuratively. 

Really, how could you? Not after you found him with your diary in his hands, reading it like it was his favorite novel. At first, you tried to convince yourself that he didn’t see those pages, but the blush on his cheeks told you otherwise. 

And that’s why you’re here: running away from San in the middle of the night.

“I’ll make you a milkshake,” San coos from the car, causing you to turn your head in interest, “You know you love ‘em,” he offers, as if you’re a dog and he’s holding a treat in front of your face. 

And god damn it, it works.

“Fine, but I’m not talking to you until I get one,” you say, opening the car door and climbing in.

“You’re talking to me now,” he quips, earning a look from you that he thinks would’ve killed him if it had the ability.

“Alright, tough crowd,” he murmurs to himself with a dry laugh, hoping to earn a giggle- or at least a smile- from you, but to no avail.

The whole situation was so embarrassing. And degrading, and stupid, and embarrassing-

“Stop thinking so much,” he swats at your arm playfully, noticing the clear look of discomfort and sheer, unabashed embarrassment on your face, “you don’t even know what I have to say yet.” 

You answer him with a small hum, deciding against giving him a verbal response, because no matter how much you’d like to curl up in a hole and die, you’re still as stubborn as the day San met you. 

You officially met him the first day you worked at the diner. Your best friend’s family had owned it since the old owners left, leaving the significantly smaller family of four looking for new employees. College debt had already begun sneaking its way into the back of your mind, and Eunbi needed to work with someone other than her nagging parents or annoying older brother. It was the perfect opportunity for you.

“C’mon! Just try it!” The boy working with you begged.

“I already told you, I have trauma with milkshakes!”

San laughed to himself, trying to hide the amusement evident on his face.

“Look, I’m sorry you found a hair in your milkshake however long ago, but I can assure you that my milkshake is hairless,” he held his little finger up to you, “pinky promise.”

Rolling your eyes, you locked your pinky with his. Your hands lingered together for a moment too long, until San pulled his away to push the drink closer to you.

“San, you know, I’m not really a huge fan of chocolate-” 

“Didn’t you and Eunbi make chocolate cupcakes for your birthday though?”

You freeze, cheeks heating up at his question, unsure if it was the fact that he’d caught you in a lie or that he knew and remembered what you and Eunbi had done for your birthday bringing the blush to your face. Attempting to hide your embarrassment, you shot him a small smirk, gently pursing your lips.

“‘Gotcha there, honey.”

Ever since that day, San always had a milkshake waiting for you at the end of each shift. And maybe it was that kindness that made you blush, or maybe it was the fact that his eyes smiled along with his lips every time he greeted you. It could’ve been the way he always knew how to make you giggle, but whatever it was, it was clear that you’d fallen for San.

Which is weird. Weird because he’s older than you, he’s your coworker, he’s out of your league, and worst of all: he’s Eunbi’s brother.

Really? How cliche is that? It’s not even like you could tell Eunbi about it. That would’ve made everything so much worse. It’s embarrassing enough to be so head over heels for a guy who just sees you as his little sister’s best friend, but to have people know about it too? There’d be no coming back from that.

And that’s exactly why you decided to start keeping a diary, or mindful journaling as you called it. That sounded better than keeping a diary.

You originally started it to confess some of your feelings about San. You wrote how embarrassed you were to have a crush on him. You wrote about the milkshakes he made you and the times he defended you against angry customers. You wrote about how stressed you felt about life in general. Your worries, your fears, the moments of your days that you wanted to forget, but your mind wouldn’t let you. You wrote about anything you couldn’t confess to another person. 

On particularly late nights full of hopeless pining and horny desperation, you’d write about your fantasies, some involving random celebrities or TV characters, but most involving San. 

It was nothing too in depth, it was more about how much you wanted just a taste of him. You knew you could never have him for good, but if you could just feel his strong arms around you or his lips on your skin just once, maybe that’d be good enough. Just a little taste. It felt dirty thinking about him in that sort of way, but who would see it anyways? 

Little did you know, San himself would.

It had slipped out of your bag. And being the kind, and relatively organized coworker he is, San picked it up to put it back in your bag for you. The way it landed on the floor, though, left it open on its spine with its pages just begging to be read. 

He wasn’t going to read it. That would be an invasion of privacy, and San wasn’t that kind of guy. He wouldn’t do that.

But when he picked it up, he couldn’t help but notice his name on the page. And unfortunately, as it does most of us, curiosity got the best of him. 

San tried to stop himself, he really did. But, knowing just how eager you were for him put his head in a spin. He just couldn't help but picture you underneath him, with that adorable blush and shy smile that only appears when he starts teasing you. He wanted so badly to hear how you whimper, to feel how warm you are, to see how sweet you taste. He had a feeling you liked him, but he never would've guessed you reciprocated the feeling so strongly.

He saw this as more of an opportunity for you two. He wasn’t going to tell you what he’d seen; he’d just confess to you one night. And maybe it’d have to be secret for a bit, but eventually you could be his, and he wanted nothing more than that.

No big deal.

But, as soon as he heard a small gasp from the doorway and looked up to see your eyes welling with tears, he knew that plan was well fucked. 

San always thought you were pretty. From the moment Eunbi first brought you over, he couldn’t help but notice your expressive eyes and beautiful hair. But what he liked most was that shining smile you had. And seeing that he’d wiped it from your face as soon as you walked in, he just had to chase you.

And so, as you sat across from him in a booth in the dimly lit diner, he studied your face: the embarrassed blush and sweaty gleam sheening your forehead, your pouty lips wrapped around the straw of a chocolate milkshake as your eyebrows furrowed.

Even your beauty was stubborn.

He began softly, so as not to scare you, his fingers drumming against the table in a gentle rhythm, “So… do you like the milkshake?”

You looked up at him, an eyebrow quirked, “Yeah, it’s good.”

San pushed out a sigh at your icy reply, settling back in his seat as he let his palm fall flat against the table. He knew what he wanted to say, he just couldn’t find the words. You broke the silence a moment later.

“Look, we can both pretend like you saw absolutely nothing at all and I’ll ask to work different times of the day so we won’t even have to see each other. I’m not weird, I promise, I just-”

“Shh,” he cooed, grabbing one of your hands, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into the back of it, “you didn’t even let me talk yet.”

San’s gaze scanned your pretty face for a moment, falling onto those eyes and lips he adored. His heart pounded against the back of his ribs, and yet, you seemed so nervous. Had he read it wrong?

“Did you mean it? What you wrote?” he asked, his voice holding a subtle tone of insecurity. His gaze fell to the table where your hands met, his grip tightening just slightly.

You looked up at him, your wide eyes sweeping over his strong face and your breath picking up. Of course you meant it, but did he want you to mean it? 

“Why are you asking that?” you mumble, pulling your hand from his shyly. Your entire face was tinged pink from embarrassment and guilt, so anxious. San couldn’t stand it.

He made an effort to grab your hand again, his other hand lifting your chin gently so you’d look at him. He shook your head a little, trying to bring out a tiny smile again. 

“You said you needed my face between your thighs…”

Your body went rigid. Out of all the entries, he just had to read that one? You remember writing it after watching him open something with his teeth one day, his jaw flexing as he used his teeth to rip open the plastic packet. Unfortunately, your mind was clouded by unsavory thoughts later that night, and so, into the journal those fantasies went. 

“I’m just saying, I’ve needed a taste for a while now, too. Just give me a chance. Don’t run, please,” he pleaded softly, his grip tightening on your hand ever so slightly. He gave you that look, the one where his eyebrows would furrow so gently and his eyes gleamed softly, a desperation hidden in them. San wasn’t one to beg, but he couldn’t let you think he didn’t like you.

To his surprise, the confession didn’t make you smile. Instead, you felt your eyes well up with tears and a heavy weight lift off your shoulders. Slowly, you snaked around the table to San’s side of the booth, immediately wrapping your arms around one of his as you cried into his shoulder. He received you warmly, his free hand coming up to pat your head softly with sweet coos leaving his mouth, calming and affectionate.

“I thought you were gonna hate me forever, Sannie. I’m so sorry,” you sobbed, hiccuping softly, no even noticing your snot blotting San’s shirt. Such a mess.

San let out a breathy laugh, guiding your face up and off of his shoulder. He grabbed a napkin from the holder at the end of the table and wiped your nose with it gently, an affectionate air about him. He’d never seen you so emotional, and though his heart constricted seeing your tears, he was just happy to be the one taking care of you: his precious one. In a way, seeing you so worked up over something he saw as no big deal was endearing. Then again, almost everything about you was endearing to San. 

He smiled down at you after wiping your nose, mumbling, “Pretty girl.” You could feel your cheeks go red instantly, feeling like it was your first time having a crush all over again. 

He continued, his deep voice soft and sweet suddenly, “I could never hate you. Never, never,” he shook his head a bit, leaning in so that your foreheads were pressed together, “what I read only surprised me, but it would never make me hate you. So, don’t apologize for liking me. I like you, too.”

You swore your heart skipped a beat as he said that. In fact, it seemed like cardiac arrest would be the next step if he didn’t stop looking at you with those soft eyes.

“Never knew you had such a dirty mind,” he teased, rubbing your arm with his free hand gently.

And just like that, your eyebrows furrowed again and you hit his arm gently, too embarrassed to be sappy for long.

“Stop that! It’s not good to hold in all your thoughts, you know. You should write your feelings down,” you scolded, face bright red and lips pouting. San took the scolding at first, but it wasn’t much use. He was too focused on how cute your face looked all scrunched up. 

And, he couldn’t deny it. Being scolded was pretty hot.

“There you go again,” San interrupted, sighing playfully. He couldn’t help but tease. You stopped mid-sentence, unsure of what you were even scolding him about now.

“Hm? What?” you asked softly, a little pout remaining on your lips.

San giggled a little, his eyes squeezing shut as he threw his head back. It was just too much fun for him. He leaned in closer to your face, close enough that your noses nearly met in the middle, whispering, “You’re too busy being angry to let me give you a taste of me.”

That cocky bastard. Cocky, and teasing, and sexy…

Your eyebrows quirked up and your cheeks burned even hotter as he leaned in closer, his mouth just next to your ear. 

“That’s what you wanted, right? What you wrote in your diary… ahem, journal,” he whispered, need dripping from his words. 

And yet, you were too embarrassed to speak. Or, maybe flustered was the right word. Either way, your brain didn’t quite work when San teased you normally, and especially not when his hands traveled to your waist, thumbs pressing into you gently.

“W-well, yes, but it was just a fantasy! I was just imagining! If you read more, you’d see I wrote about celebrities also…” you stammered, your hands searching for a place to rest along with your eyes. 

“Oh, so you’re saying I’m not special?” San asked, biting his lip to hold back a cocky smile.

You gasped a little, hands instinctively finding San’s firm chest, “No, no! I just meant, just,” you panicked a bit, somehow losing your words yet again as San put his hands over yours.

“So, I am special? Am I special enough to have a taste of you?” San asked softly, still teasing, though there was an undercurrent of seriousness in his voice, something like an invitation.

“I don’t know if it’s a good idea, Sannie… What would Eunbi think?” You ask softly, eyes round and full of worry. Unintentionally, you leaned further into San’s chest, prompting him to pull you into a hug. He cradled the back of your head, petting your hair softly.

“She doesn’t have to know yet. And you can always say no, baby. I know I tease you a lot, but it’s just because you’re so cute when you’re worked up. We can take things slow if you want. It’s just that journal entry… it made me…” San trailed off towards the end, his own cheeks getting pink now.

Softly, you reached up and ran your fingers through San’s hair, finally offering him a big smile, “Look at you blushing now.”

San blew a bit of air out of his nose, suppressing a shy laugh. “How couldn’t I blush? The thought of you wanting me that way…” He trailed off again, voice high and squeaky now that he was being teased. He pulled you close and buried his face in your neck, letting his lips place a soft kiss before he continued.

“I want to hear you say it, angel. Tell me I’m special and it’s more than just a fantasy. Tell me how you want me,” he mumbled into your neck, using every ounce of self restraint to stop himself from kissing it again.

And, in that moment, months of yearning for, pining over, and wanting San in every way came back to you. Your heart ached a bit, and so did the space between your legs. Everything you had imagined and told yourself was just a dream was coming true. It was true that it would be difficult to hide this whole thing considering Eunbi could read you like a book, but you couldn’t let this opportunity go.

“God, San, I want you in every way possible,” you breathed out, tilting your head back to give him better access to your neck. As soon as you did, he latched on to it, sucking a small bruise into it. You trembled a little, involuntarily letting a tiny whimper cross your lips as you whispered, “But I really need you to fuck me right now.”

“That’s all I need to hear, baby. Here,” he murmured, detaching himself from you quickly. He swiftly switched spots with you, leaving the booth seat and pulling you to the edge of it. He kneeled in front of you, one hand on your thigh and the other gripping the table still. Pushing the table towards the other side of the booth, San ran his hands up and down your thighs, eyes pleading and lust filled. “It’s alright if I taste you?”

“Please, need it so bad, Sannie,” you pleaded as he slowly undid your jeans, pulling them off your legs along with your panties in one fatal swoop. You were already dripping onto the seat and he hadn’t even touched you yet. 

San pressed gentle kisses up your bare thighs, using a thumb to rub gentle circles into your clit. You gripped the top of the seat, already feeling a pulsing need in your heat as San’s mouth inched closer to it. His breath tickled the area, making your squirm, but what was worse was the look in his eyes. He stopped just in front of your cunt and looked up at you with dark, lustful eyes. In that moment, you understood San wanted this just as much as you did.

It was true. San couldn’t even recount the amount of times he pumped his fist in bed or in the shower thinking about you and your sweet pussy. And as much as it made him blush just thinking about it, he wanted nothing more in life than to bury his face in between your thighs some days, making you squirm and hearing what noises he could pull out of you. He wanted to have you, to know you on a deeper level. And what was more intimate than knowing the way a person tastes?

“Pretty,” he murmured into his direct line to heaven, his nose nudging your clit 

gently. A long, hot stripe was licked up your pussy, making you twitch expectantly. Instantly, your mind began to grow foggy and your hips bucked, San whispering, “It’s alright, just relax, baby.”

And so, you did. You let your torso fall all the way back against the booth seat and your fingers tangle in his hair, a soft grunt leaving him as he dove in deeper. His tongue swirled around your entrance, dipping inside every once in a while as a quiet hum vibrated against you. He kept up his agonizingly slow pace on your clit with his thumb, savoring that way you tasted on his tongue.

Soon, though, San needed more of you. He needed to see you squirm more, hear you moan just for him. He pulled you even closer to the edge of the booth, another grunt leaving him as he had to pull his face away for a moment. He hoisted your legs up onto his broad shoulders, instantly attaching his lips to your clit, kissing it softly before sucking it. 

A thick finger found its way inside of you, knuckle deep and wriggling. You squirmed, unable to hold back your noises. Even with just one finger, he filled you up better than you’d ever been before. He added a second finger a moment later, getting familiar with your body inside and out. Scissoring his fingers, he stretched your pussy out, mumbling something about how perfect it was.

“Fuck, San, even your fingers are big,” you slurred, back arching up in the air. San answered with another hum against your pussy, one you could tell was a shy giggle. He curled his fingers, letting his lips pulse around your clit now that he could tell you would finish soon. He slowed his pace down for a second, lifting his head to look up at you.

“You wanna cum? Want Sannie to make you cum?” He asked with a condescending pout, mirroring the one on your own lips. You nodded fervently, but it wasn’t enough for San.

“Gotta hear you say it, angel,” He furthered, eyes darkening as he held back another sly smile. You whined, kicking your legs gently. San tutted, swatting your thigh gently, “Don’t be so stubborn. Just tell Sannie.”

“Please, San, make me cum. Wanna cum all over your tongue,” you relented, hips bucking back up towards San’s face, nudging his chin against your clit. San cooed gently before diving back in. Lapping at your hole, he circled your clit relentlessly with his thumb. He wasn’t going to let you cum anywhere but his tongue.

It didn’t take long for you to do just what you’d asked for. Suddenly, your entire body began to tingle, radiating from the place between your thighs. Your toes curled and your knees tried to squeeze together, locking San’s head in place so that he could lap up every last bit of your essence that was flowing out of you. He made sure he got every last bit, taking his time to lick and kiss every last part of your slick, throbbing cunt.

Eventually, he pried your legs open and helped you sit up, smiling hard at your flushed out face. He swiped his chin with his thumb, bringing it up to his lips before licking off that last bit of you. He sighed, “Could live in that little hole forever, baby.”

You blushed gently, turning away from him shyly, prompting him to sit next to you. He grabbed you by your waist, pulling you onto his lap so your back was flush against his chest. “Hey, you can’t get all shy on me now. Where’s the feisty girl I know, hm?”

“How could I be mean after you just did that to me,” you pouted, making San laugh. 

“You’re always mean to me,” he told you dramatically, grabbing your chin and turning your face towards his. Carefully, he grinded his hips up so that you could feel how hard he was. And he was. Just the taste of you had San throbbing, and the only reason he let you cum so quickly was so that he didn’t cum in his own pants. 

You gasped softly, feeling San’s cock pulsing against your ass, then again when his thick fingers began circling your clit again. He rested his chin on your shoulder, speaking so softly into your ear, “And what’s really mean is how you made me so hard, I almost came from how good you tasted. You wouldn’t leave me like this, right, baby?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes and turning around in San’s lap. His hands went straight to your ass, cupping it and pulling you down to grind against the tent in his pants. Your eyebrows furrowed gently as your hips moved back and forth on him, concentrated huffs falling from your tongue.

“Greedy girl,” he teased, nudging your jaw with the side of his head gently, “you want my cock in you?”

You nodded, pouting at him, “Please, San. Need you in me bad.”

San just laughed, guiding your hands to unzip his pants. He lowered his voice, looking down at where your crotches met, “Alright, you can have it. But, you gotta do the work now. You really tired me out there before.”

You whined again, this time out of pure exhilaration. Wasting no time, you unzipped San’s fly, yanking down his pants and boxers as best as you could. His cock sprung out, hard and red, begging you to take it.

But first, you giggled mischievously as you gave it a few pumps, enjoying its weight in your hand. San groaned, throwing his head back and cursing under his breath. It didn’t take long for him to grow impatient. He grabbed your waist and guided you to sit up better, right above his manhood.

You moved your hips around just to antagonize San as he’d done to you so many times. He let out a frustrated groan, burying his face against your neck yet again, kissing it softly as he pleaded, “Cmon, baby, don’t make me crazy here.”

“Wanted this for so long, Sannie,” you breathed out as you finally sunk down on him, his hips thrusting up to meet yours. San chuckled, pushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“I know, baby, read all about it,” he smirked, that smug look on his face melting into a lovesick smile as you swatted at his chest. He couldn’t help but suck another bruise into the side of your neck before chiding, “Just teasing you, been thinkin’ about this for a while, too.”

He rutted up into you, hungry and needy, filling your slick heat completely. Your body twitched with each thrust, languid and deep, San’s silent confession. He was savoring his meal, taking it slowly and enjoying it wholly.

The only sound in the room was that of skin on skin, San’s hips snapping up into yours. He knew just the spot to hit inside of you. You cried out in pleasure, prompting San to speed up. The two of you, hungry and desperate to cum, moved together in a near perfect harmony. 

“Fuck, this pussy was made for me,” San stuttered, trying to keep himself inside you, but it was hard with your bouncing and his thrusts, not to mention the wetness you spilled each time he left your body for a moment. San grunted in your ear, biting down on your shoulder a moment later. He was close. It didn’t help that everytime he thrusted up into you, you let out the sweetest sounds. San wanted to listen to them all the time, but even the thought of doing this again with you made him harder. 

Honestly, his cock kept getting harder with each second it spent inside you. You were so warm, so tight. San was normally a patient man, but it was hard to take his time with you.

You couldn’t be helped either. As soon as he sunk his teeth into you, you came all over him. Wetness poured out of your cunt, coating San as you cried out his name. He followed suit soon afterwards, pulling out and cumming on your thigh. Quickly, San pulled you into a hug, still heaving as a big hand came up to cradle your head. 

For a few minutes, the two of you sat together, your form still tucked into San’s warm embrace as he rocked you back and forth. You both tried to regain your breath, but every little touch made either one of you gasp softly before you turned your head the other way, embarrassingly lovesick. 

San was warm, physically and figuratively. Sweat dripped off his forehead and fell onto yours, but you couldn’t care less if it meant being held by him. It was strong, secure, surreal… it was everything you had written about before. There were days when all you needed was a firm hug, to be held without the fear of falling, somewhere warm and safe. San was all of that, and you could feel it now. It wasn’t just something you wrote about anymore. It was real.

San noticed the face you made when you were thinking and his heart rate picked up. Was it not good? Did he disappoint you? He nudged your head with his shoulder, pouting, “What’s wrong? Was it not good?”

“What? No! It was amazing, I just… I like you a lot. And I like that I don’t have to imagine things anymore… Well, that is if you want to continue this,” you trailed off, blabbering embarrassedly. Maybe all he wanted was a hookup. Uneasiness settled into your features while amusement settled into San’s.

“Silly girl,” he scoffed, enamored by everything you were, “Do you want to be my girlfriend?”

Your eyebrows shot up and your heart fluttered. You were never one to get so worked up so easily, but San had a way of making it happen. You cleared your throat, trying to regain some composure.

“Do you want to be my boyfriend?” you mirrored, acting coy now. San cupped your face, dimples on full display as he smiled at you, meeting your gaze. He leaned in and gave you his first real kiss of the night. Your lips molded together perfectly, San’s tongue swiping across your lower lip occasionally. You felt his warm cheeks against yours, which made you giggle sweetly. San’s heart melted.

The boy pulled away a moment later, letting his forehead rest against yours, “Does that answer your question, baby?”

You snorted in response, shaking your head bashfully. You wanted to hear him say it. San rolled his eyes in response, his hands moving down your back to rest on either side of your ass. Still, he smiled and whispered, “Yes, I want to be your boyfriend.”

You sighed sweetly, unable to hold back the big smile on your face. San delivered a little spank to your ass, playful and teasing, “Happy now?”

You nodded, allowing a little squeal of excitement to leave you. “Very happy, Sannie. Very happy,” you whispered back, laying your head on his shoulder to look around the dark diner. 

Just then, your eyes spotted a little red light up in the corner of the diner, seemingly connected to a security camera. You jumped, whisper yelling at San, “Fuck! Fuck, the cameras, San!”

San jumped as soon as you did, following your gaze up to the security camera. He mirrored your panic for just a moment before pulling you further into the booth, pulling his jacket off to cover up your still bare bottom half. 

And just as you thought you were going to have a heart attack, San laughed, and somehow, the uneasiness melted away. He ruffled your hair playfully, moving you off his lap and onto the seat before zipping his pants back up. He stood up, leaning down to your level, “I'll go take care of it, honey. Just clean up and get dressed. And finish your shake,” he told you, motioning to the table where your half empty, half melted chocolate shake sat.

But as soon as he turned around, he turned back and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips before scurrying off to the office, ready to delete the footage. You couldn’t help but smile knowing San would take care of it. What a dream boy.

[abbyromanoff]

hey babes 😏😏😏

LIKE MOB BOSSES CAROL AND VALKYRIE?! I HAVENT SEEN THE MARVELS HUT IM SEEING IT TOMORROW AND IM SO EXCITED BUT YEH AND MAYBE LIKE SOME JEALOUSY AND LIKE 😏😏😏 PUNISHMENTS AND SHIT

DOUBLE TROUBLE

PAIRINGS: CarolValkryie x reader

WORD COUNT: 679

WARNINGS: smut, double penetration, degrading, punishment, slapping, edging, overstimulation, threesomes, that’s abt it :)

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

Reminder that this will be my last ever smut post!! Going forward I will not be writing smut so I apologize for those who did not get their asks answered

“No, I- I can’t,” You mumbled weakly, too tired to fight off the women surrounding you. Valkyrie was behind, her tip teasing the entrance of your tightest hole while Carol continued to slide in and out of your cunt. Her strap would rub her clit perfectly to cause just the right amount of friction, and her moans blended in with yours.

“Yes, you can, and you will.” Valkyrie groaned, seemingly tired of the ‘attitude’ you had been throwing towards both of them. Valkyrie wasn’t able to visit you and your girlfriend often, only when it was serious, and Carol had decided it was one of those times. You were nearing your period, and your hormones were spiraling like usual. Although, it was also the Holiday’s, and you had been missing both women, so you were in a worse mood than they could’ve expected.

“Look at that, baby, you’re taking Captain's cock so well,” You sniffled quietly, and they had to stifle a chuckle at your weakened expression.

“Don’t praise this little slut. They’ve been so, so naughty, it’s only fair we give them what they’ve been asking for.” Although it wasn’t at all what you were asking for. You wanted to be with the two women, between the two in a similar position as to how you are now. But you wanted to hear their soft praises on the shell of your ear. You wanted to feel their lips slowly moving down your neck and body. You wanted their hands to lovingly slide across your breasts, unlike the way they were groping you currently. You wanted to cum on their tongues, their fingers, their cocks; whatever it was they could give you. But you wanted them more than anything, and if this is what they were giving you, you wouldn’t dare to complain.

“Fuck, I’m already halfway, baby. You think you can take the rest of me, hm? You think this tight fucking ass can take Daddy’s cock?” You sniffled but lacked a response, causing a slap to arrive across your cheek. You whimpered, but quickly nodded without a thought, your mind barely registering what she asked.

“This must feel so fucking good, huh, darlin’? Having two cocks just destroying your holes, giving you no room to protest. This messy cunt seems to be betraying you when you say you don’t want this, little one.” Carol muttered close to your lips, quickly leaning down to take your bottom lip in her mouth as she bit down slightly, causing you to hiss in further pain. You didn’t know how much longer you could take, but you hoped they’d give in soon.

“C’mon, I know you want to cum for us,” She spoke once again, and you heard Valkyrie let out a deep groan as your skin touched the base of her strap. You shuttered, feeling both women deeper than ever before inside of you, the only hole left to fill was your mouth.

“Shh, just open, pretty girl.” You didn’t entirely understand what they meant, so you opened the barrier of your lips and spread your legs even further, both mumbling dirty praises in response. You felt two fingers thrusting into your mouth soon after, opening your eyes to see an arm from behind wrapping around to visit the said area. Her knuckles pressed against the sides of your cheeks, and you gagged as she forced herself impossibly deeper.

“I think this little slut likes having their holes filled, ‘cause they’re making a fucking mess.” You led your eyes down, quickly shutting them in shame as you admired the wetness leaking from you. You had never been this turned on, what were they doing to you?

“P’ease, Captain; please, D-daddy, let me cum f’ you.” In an instant you felt the two stilling inside of you, and it seemed they had wordlessly matched their arrivals as their moans seemed to bounce off each vibranium wall. This only brought you closer, and the dirty scent of sex filling the room only brought you further arousal.

“Cum for us, you dirty slut,”

[iholdwhatican]

tension

part two to reunions - must read part 1 first!

pairing: art donaldson x reader x patrick zweig

length: 3.2k

author's note: this took wayyyy too long for me to do yall, i'm so sorry. these two have a tight hold on me and i'm in the trenches. i've got some good stuff lined up tho, and i'm super excited to write it heeheehee :) also smut in the future will be much longer and much more detailed, just fyi

tags: y/n is art donaldson's wife ; birthday party ; art is down bad ; patrick wants y/n ; possessive!art ; the boys are fighting ; no use of y/n ; pining ; sexual tension ; sugar mommy y/n? ; unapologetic flirting with your bff's wife at his birthday party

warnings: sexual content, p in v, not super detailed but still there!

summary: the stressful night of the birthday party continues, and you find yourself pinging between art and patrick like a tennis ball. how the hell did you get yourself into this?

originally posted by iholdwhatican

It took four minutes and 36 seconds of Art and Patrick being alone outside before the anxiety became too much. Your dress was too tight against your skin and the chatter of the guests rattled in your skull. Your mind replayed the anger on Art’s face over and over, convinced that he’d direct it at you the moment he came back in. And if you were being honest, you couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss. 

Your blood boiled with the ferocity of it, and an ache in your core begged for another taste. 

Another three minutes and 18 seconds passed while you downed half of your second glass of wine. You made conversation with a few people who caught your eye, making sure all the food and drink were up to par. Not that you really could care about that right now. Your mind was a jumble of thoughts about the two men on the balcony. 

Art, Patrick, Art, Patrick, Art, Patrick, Art, Patrick

“You look like you’re gonna puke.” 

For the second time that night, Patrick Zweig’s voice made you jump. 

You looked at him, catching sight of that damned smirk that made your stomach flip, and furrowed your brows. One quick scan of the room came up empty for your husband, forcing the anxiety in your chest to worsen. 

“Where’s Art?” You asked, not missing the way your voice wobbled slightly. 

“Relax.” Patrick responded, resting a hand on your shoulder, “He went to the kitchen, I think. I didn’t kill him. And he didn’t run for the hills either.” 

You decided not to comment on how easily he’d read your worries without you saying anything. For some reason, you were an open book to him. 

A deep sigh left you. You licked your lips anxiously- which immediately caused Patrick’s eyes to fall on your mouth. 

“What happened out there?” 

The man gave you a shrug, letting his hand fall back to his side, “Nothing, really. We just talked for a bit. He told me I could stay, as long as I stopped flirting with you.” 

“So does that mean you’re going to stop?” The idea made you slightly unhappy, which in turn filled you with guilt. Why were you so excited by his flirtations when you had a wonderful, loving husband who treated you like a queen? 

But then Patrick grinned, and you knew the answer before he said it, “Well, I’ve never been one to do what I’m told.” 

A smile grew over your lips, and you tried to hide it with an eye roll, “Why don’t you mingle? Try some food. I’m going to find my husband.” 

He didn’t miss the enunciation you put on ‘my husband’, and you didn’t miss the way his eyes darkened as you said it. You didn’t give it time to linger, instead turning away and moving towards the kitchen. 

You knew the look Patrick had in his eyes. You’d seen it a dozen times in Art’s. On the court, over a board game, in all sorts of scenarios. And every time, even now, the look sent a chill down your spine. 

That expression was clear, resolute competition. 

Just as Patrick had said, you found Art in the kitchen. With his back to you, you had a perfect view of his tense shoulders and hanging head as he poured himself a glass of water. He was all wound up, and you knew it was your fault. Now it was your responsibility to fix it. 

You stepped up behind him, sliding a hand between his shoulder blades. He didn’t hesitate to lean into the touch, a subconscious reaction. He knew it was you just by the feel of your hand on him. And, even if he might be furious, he still found comfort in it. 

“Hey…” You breathed, leaning to the side to meet his gaze. Art looked at you over his shoulder, a half-smile quirking his lips up, “How are you doing?” 

“Hey.” He responded, turning and sliding his hands over your hips. Your chest pressed against his as he leaned down and placed a kiss on your hairline. Then he just lingered there, breathing in your smell, “I honestly don’t know. I just- it was so weird to see him.” 

“Yeah, of course it was.” Your words reached him in a soft, comforting tone. The guilt of putting your perfect, doting husband in this situation was enough to make you feel like you had barbed wire around your neck. You had to pay penance- somehow. You rubbed your hand in circles over his back, “I’m sorry, sundrop. I don’t know what I was thinking when I invited him.” 

Sundrop. A nickname that went way back to the early days of your relationship. Art was an energetic puppy dog with a halo of golden curls and a smile that made your insides feel hot. He was what you pictured a personification of the sun to be, hence the pet name. He pretended not to like it, but his eyes always sparkled a certain way when you said it. 

Art pulled his head away to peer down into your eyes, his own pensive and confused, “No, baby, don’t be sorry. It was a great fucking surprise. Just… a surprise.” 

You shook your head. He was so fucking good to you, “You’re allowed to be mad at me.” 

“Mad? At you?” In one quick motion, he picked you up and set you on the counter. Your legs opened for him without hesitation, allowing him to slot right in between them, “I don’t think that’s possible.”

You fought the blush rising in your cheeks and rolled your eyes, “You think too highly of me.” 

“No. Never.” He replied instantly. He kissed your chin. Then your jaw. Then your neck. Then down your throat, “As far as I’m concerned, you’re God.” 

“Art-” You argued, though you weren’t sure what for. You tilted your neck back and offered yourself up to him. 

“I could spend my life on my knees for you and be happy.” His words were muffled as he mouthed at your neck, sending shivers down your spine. This, combined with the kiss from earlier, was making you ache with need. You were half-tempted to end the party early and take your pretty husband to bed. 

You bit your lip when he ran his tongue over a sensitive spot above your collarbone. If he wasn’t in between them, you’d be squeezing your thighs together. 

When Art pulled away, his eyes had darkened. Dilated pupils and heavy breaths told you all you needed to know. He was just as fucking horny as you were right now. His hands held your hips tighter. 

“Do you think we’d be left alone long enough for me to show you how much I mean it?” He asked. It was almost as if he were begging. As if he couldn’t bear the idea of doing anything other than dropping to his knees and devouring you. 

And God, when he looked at you like that, you had no choice but to say yes. 

Unfortunately, fate intervened, and you were kept from making a scene at your husband’s birthday party. 

“Hey, you two, quit snogging and come entertain us!” One of Art’s tennis friends called, sticking their head into the kitchen. The big grin on their face told you it was just teasing, but you still felt your face burning with embarrassment. 

“It’s my birthday, let me do what I want.” Art jeered right back, lifting you off the counter and back onto your own two feet. You laughed airily at the comment, feeling more light-headed than anything. 

Before following his friend back into the action, he whispered a quick, “Later, okay?” to you. And then he left you standing in the kitchen- touch-starved, foggy-headed, and excruciatingly aroused. 

It was then that you realized you didn’t even get to ask him what happened with Patrick.

Upon re-entering the party, you found yourself taking note of two things- or rather, two people. One, Art- conversing with some friends from the foundation with a big grin on his face. Two, Patrick- having his fill of finger foods from the refreshment table. He was alone. And though you tried to fight it, you found yourself gravitating towards him. 

“Do they not have food where you’re from?” You teased, falling into place at his side. Your gaze slid over the spread before flicking up to his face. 

You’d caught him mid-bite, and he attempted to swallow quickly and regain his composure. Something warmed slightly in your chest. Endearing. 

“Well, I’m kinda… in between places right now.” He explained, tongue stuck in his cheek to clear out residual bits of food, “And there’s never stuff as good as this.” 

You let the compliment slide away, instead focusing on his more troubling response, “Are you homeless?” 

“What? No.” He chuckled, as if the question were preposterous, “I go all over for tennis. It’s just easier to stay on the move.” 

You raised an eyebrow, “And on off-season?” 

Something in his expression darkened, only for a moment, and then he was back to cocky smiles and overwhelming confidence, “I’m too busy to care about that. And what’s it matter to you, anyway?” 

“I’d like to think I’m a good person.” You said, plucking a snack off the table and popping it into your mouth. You chewed it halfway before continuing, “And a good person worries if they think someone they care about isn’t doing well.” 

Patrick grinned at you for five long seconds. And it took him actually saying the words to realize where you’d slipped up. 

“You care about me?” 

Shit. You had not meant to say that. Why was this man so damn good at getting every little thought in your head to spill out of your mouth? 

“If caring about you means I don’t want you sleeping under a bridge somewhere, then sure.” 

“Okay, I would never let it get that far-” 

“I wanna help.” 

He blinked, “Help how?” Briefly, very briefly, you thought of your bed. Your comfortable, spacious bed, perfect for three individuals. You could picture it- you, safe and sound and nestled between the two men. Art, your lovely, obedient husband on one side, letting himself love and be loved. And Patrick on the other side, nice and cozy with a roof over his head and a full belly. 

The image flashed in an instant, and you were left with hollow, heavy guilt. You swallowed. 

“How much do you need?” 

“Huh?” You rolled your eyes at him, “How much money do you need? To keep you afloat for the next little while. And I’ll send you home tonight with leftovers.” 

Patrick let the words wash over him, slowly smiling as they did. He took a step towards you, close enough that one tiny shove would have your bodies pressed together. You could smell him, all sweat and cigarettes and woodsy cologne that made your head spin. You’d been wound up all night, and this was absolutely not helping. 

“You gonna write me a check? Use your hard-earned money to get a practical stranger a hotel for a couple nights?” He murmured, heavy on the charm, “What would your husband think?” 

He knew he’d gotten under your skin. He knew what he was doing. He was fucking enjoying this. 

You tried to hold your ground, looking up at him through your lashes, “It’s his money, actually. He makes sure I never have to work unless I want to.” 

“Guess he treats you pretty well. And look how you’re taking advantage of it.” His hand lay on the table next to yours, his fingertips nearly brushing the skin of your wrist. How bad would it be if you closed the gap? 

You bit your lip, “You’re allowed to turn me down.” 

“I don’t think I’d ever turn you down, Mrs. Donaldson.” 

Something about that title, something about the way he said it, made your blood run hot and cold at the same time. It reminded you of the myths of sirens. Beautiful monsters of the sea that used their voices to bring others to their demise. Talking to Patrick had that same type of allure, and the sense of danger. 

“Then tell me what you need.” 

“What do you think I need?” 

Oh, you could think of a few things. But you could also feel a pair of eyes on you, and you knew exactly who they belonged to. Part of you wanted to tempt him, see if you could get another reaction like out on the balcony. However, you quickly shot the idea down. Not right now, not in the middle of a crowded party.

Lips curving into an innocent smile, you pushed yourself a step back from him, “I think you need a nice place to sleep. And a few good meals. And maybe a hug.” 

The sudden switch-up took Patrick by surprise, but he handled it smoothly and responded only a beat later, “You’re offering?” 

“At least for the first two.” You didn’t know what you’d do if you were in his arms. With the way you were feeling now, with two glasses of wine in your system, your boundaries were getting blurrier and blurrier. How humiliating. 

His bottom lip jutted out into a pout. Which unfortunately dragged your gaze right down to his mouth. It took you a moment too long to meet his eyes again. 

“What, we can’t hug? Don’t you consider me a friend?” 

“I do.” You shrugged, tucking loose hair behind your ear, “Maybe I’m just not a touchy person.” 

A lie. You knew it, and you could tell by the look on his face that he knew it too.

“Yeah.” He smirked, sounding the opposite of sincere, “Art’s wife isn’t a touchy person. Sure.” 

You needed a cold shower. Or to go have some one-on-one time with your vibrator. Or maybe move to the seaside and spend your days going mad in a lighthouse. You weren’t sure. All you knew was how increasingly hot you were feeling. 

“Speaking of Art, go talk to him. Try to make amends. Meet some of his friends.” You suggested, glancing over at your husband. He wasn’t watching you anymore, at least not straight on. But he had a radar when it came to you, and he was very diligent in keeping tabs. No matter what.

“You trying to get rid of me?” Patrick asked lightly. No heat behind the words. 

“Oh, yes.” You admitted, placing your hands on his shoulders and pointing him towards Art, “Find me again before you leave and I’ll have your check.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” He grinned at you over his shoulder, sending a wink before sauntering off. 

Finally, you felt like you could actually get a breath in your lungs. 

The party had ended. Guests went home, Patrick got his check and headed to a hotel you recommended, and you and your partner left all the cleanup for the morning. You barely gave it a second glance as you went up to bed with him, your hand held tightly in his. 

Art fucked you like a starving man that night. You barely got into the room before his lips were plastered on your skin, his hands unzipping your dress with quick precision. He was usually much more reserved, but something about tonight had made him ravenous. And he wasn’t the only one.

You ended up on his lap; bare chests pressed together, skin sweaty and breaths heavy as you rolled your hips into him. His hands clutched your thighs, keeping you close, fingers pressing into the flesh. You pulled on his hair and his head immediately fell back. As if he were a puppet for you to position and use however you wanted. His eyes looked up at you with a fire in them you’d never seen before, but the adoration, the reverence, was all too familiar. 

Your name fell from his lips over and over again like a prayer. The single word weaved with threads of devotion, possessiveness, desire. A song joined in chorus by whatever nonsensical phrase entered his head. I love you, so perfect, all mine, please, please, please. 

He was claiming you. Marking his territory in his own special way. It didn’t matter that Patrick wasn’t here to see it, or that he probably would never even know. As long as Art could tell himself that you were his, he’d be okay. Jealousy was a good look on him. 

You could feel your core tighten with each and every movement of his hips against you. You weren’t going to last much longer. But by the look in your husband’s eyes, neither was he. 

Parted lips claimed yours in a messy kiss, tongue sliding into your mouth and exploring every open space. Then you were being flipped over; back pressed into the mattress as Art rocked into you with reckless abandon. He intertwined his fingers with yours and pinned your hands above your head without ever breaking the kiss. 

You lasted about thirty seconds. Finally, the tension in you snapped and your orgasm washed over you in waves, leaving you limp and trembling. Art finished only a moment later. You could feel him pulsing inside of you as the aftershocks slowly faded away. The room reeked of sweat and sex and your head was spinning. 

Art, your precious, dutiful man, rested his head on your chest as he attempted to catch his breath. You could feel the tickle of his lips kissing your skin, the soft squeeze of his hands on your hips. You ran a hand through his damp hair, fingers massaging his scalp. 

“I love you.” He murmured against your ribs, right over your thundering heart. He said it like he couldn’t quite believe he was allowed, like he didn’t believe you were here, that you were his. 

Dark hair and cigarette smoke flashed through your mind. Almost-touching hands and paper checks. 

“I love you.” You responded, kissing his hairline, “Happy Birthday, baby.” 

The only response you got was a tired, happy sound and another kiss to your collarbone. A quick adjustment later and the two of you were tucked under the blankets, your head on Art’s chest and his arm around you. Neither of you cared enough to clean yourselves up or to put pajamas on. Art was already softly snoring next to you, and you could feel your eyelids getting heavy.

As you listened to the baddump of his heart, a strange thought flitted through your mind. You’d just had the best sex of your life, and it was because of Patrick. You weren’t the only one who’d been thinking of him while in the throes of passion. The notion made something strange twinge in your gut. 

And then, like he’d somehow read your mind, your phone lit up with a text. 

Patrick Zweig: You free for lunch tomorrow?

***

Taglist: 

@jxssimae

@jackierose902109

@dvrkstxrlightt

@yesimwriting

@1989tvcore 

@kookie29 

@dopeoafslimebanana

@vadergf

@nsyncvinyl 

@ireallydontcareanymorebrooo

@brunettegirl

[multifandomlover01]

Not Technically Mine…But Still Unequivocally Mine

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (not AFAB specific)

WC: ~2.9k

Warnings: reader is undercover bait, very scummy suspect, very uncomfy situation and dialogue, touching, Spencer is concerned for her safety, biological male reaction mention, strangulation mention but not depicted, the b word is used to describe the reader, he spits on her too

Summary: (based off a post by @hereforhalstead and fic semi-requested by @ribbongrll) Reader has to go undercover as bait to lure in a suspect, and Spencer is not happy about it. He’s very protective and almost caused the mission to not be completed

Note: I envisioned post prison Spencer for this so it’s like S13-15 (JJ and Luke are in here), also third person and idk what’s happening with the tenses. Also a bit repetitive? Bit annoying?

Spencer absolutely fucking hated it whenever he had to be in a club or a bar for a case. It didn’t matter how much time he had to spend in the building. He got anxious and overstimulated very quickly. The only thing that made it worse was when some guy flirted with his equally as anxious female coworker (who was also his best friend who he was also in love with). Every time a guy would flirt with her while she just stood there, uncomfortable and silent, his heart broke. He’d glare at the guy and if he still didn’t take that hint, say something. Luckily, this usually took care of any further interaction.

Apparently the only thing worse than some guy flirting with his best friend/crush was her being bait for a suspect. She was his exact type, physically speaking and personality wise. Spencer almost immediately objected when he saw the form fitting and revealing dress that JJ had helped her pick out. But he doubted he’d be able to convince Prentiss and Rossi to ditch the plan. It was the best one they had. At least Spencer got to go undercover with her as her date…although he didn’t know if this actually would make the situation better or worse.

He didn’t even notice that his hand was brushing against hers the whole ride. He also didn’t notice that he was sweating a little bit.

“You’d better not do that in the club…you’ll give us away.” She teases and he doesn’t know what she’s talking about until he is suddenly physically aware of the perspiration.

He chuckles. “I won’t. Don’t worry.” He takes a handkerchief out of his pocket and dabs his face and neck.

They arrive at the club. He gets out of the vehicle and helps her out. He suppressed a groan when she tugs on her dress to futilely get it to cover more of her thighs. He gingerly grasps her hand and leads her inside.

“Remember…be your shy sweet self but not too reserved and reluctant because we need-”

“The suspect outside, yes, I know, Spence. We’ll be ok.” She chuckles as she looks at him.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt.” He frowns.

“You think I want to get hurt.” She furrows her eyebrows.

“Of course not.” He shakes his head, smiling some. “But it’s my job to protect you and…I don’t wanna fail.”

“I have to let him get me outside, isolated and alone so that JJ and Luke can apprehend him. You can’t protect me once I’m on my own with him.” She states what he was trying not to think about. She was right, though, of course.

“Just…be careful, ok?” He squeezed her hand.

“I will, don’t worry.” She squeezed his back. “Hey, I’ve done better for longer on my field training that you have, remember?”

“I remember when you had to help me pass my test to still be qualified to carry a gun and be in the field.”

“And now you don’t even need my help. You’ve gotten better and I’m proud of you. There’s always room for improvement…even for me. I’ll be fine. I promise.”

Spencer still wasn’t sure about this whole situation as they took a seat at the bar at the club. There was only one seat available. Spencer thought about letting her take it as the lady while he stood but then an idea he liked struck him. He sat down on the bar stool, took a hold of her waist and hoisted her up into his lap. He held her tightly to him as he had his arms wrapped around her waist.

“What’re you doing?” She asked, slightly confused by his behavior.

“I’m your date. I’m being…friendly.”

“That’s not why.” She huffs slightly.

“Alright…I’m protecting you, then.” His breath tickles her ear.

“Do I have to be in your lap?”

“I would say that…yes, you do.” He said rather definitively.

They ordered drinks (he made sure to order her a virgin cocktail so she had no actual alcohol in her system, not only was this regulation for an undercover agent, but he knew the last thing he wanted was for her cognition to not be at 100%). They sipped their drinks as she remained in his lap.

Spencer remained vigilant to his surroundings when she had to be more subtle about it to maintain her “oblivious” undercover role. He was grateful that it made sense for a girl’s date to want to ward off any potential girl stealers. He was not so grateful that the suspect did not care about that (even if the whole point of being bait and undercover as a couple was to lure him in to apprehend him).

It didn’t escape her notice that he’d tighten his grip around her whenever any guy got particularly physically close to her for whatever reason (even if it was as innocuous as standing beside her at the bar to order drinks) even if they didn’t even glance at her, let alone talk to her.

“You can relax some, you know. The suspect is going to be much bolder. You don’t have to spike your poor heart rate over every little thing.”

“I care about you. I won’t have you getting hurt.”

“We went over this. I’m perfectly capable of-”

“I know, I know you are, ok? It’s not…it’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s-”

“Excuse me…” An overly charming and soft voice says, cutting Spencer off.

Their eyes immediately flit over to the man that had suddenly appeared. Spencer’s blood runs cold when he realizes that this is the man that matches the descriptions that the bartenders and patrons had given.

Spencer tenses, gripping her hips tightly as he holds her to him.

“I was just at that table over there and couldn’t help notice this…vision of loveliness right here.” He smiles as his hand rests on her knee. She cringes. Spencer’s blood boils.

“Don’t touch her.” He says in a dangerously low tone.

“Oh come on…I’m not gonna hurt the little lady. I’m merely…admiring her.” He steps ever so closer.

“Back off.” Spencer says, or rather…he grits it out. His grip on her hips tightens and she’s starting to wonder if they’ll bruise if he grips any tighter or if he does so for long.

“Oh come on…don’t be such a hard ass. What do you say, darling? How’s about…you and I…ditch this guy and I’ll show you a real good time.” Spencer wishes he could punch that stupid smirk off his face and break his hand as it slides further up her thigh. She’s squirming in his lap, pressing back into him (which doesn’t help another situation).

“You won’t. She’s clearly uncomfortable. You should take a hint and piss off.”

While she is in actuality very uncomfortable around this man, she knows she needs to get him outside.

“Well I…” She forces herself to scoot a bit off of Spencer’s lap and closer to the man. Spencer doesn’t loosen the grip on her hips and pulls her back against him.

“See? The lady here does seem interested.” His smirk hasn’t disappeared as his fingers are now at the hem of her dress.

Spencer has to fight between his instinct to get her as far away from this man as possible and his recognition of the mission. He just glares at the man. Reluctantly, he keeps his mouth shut.

“That’s it…listen to your girl here. Come on, honey. He seems like a real fun guy but…I promise to show you a night you’ll never forget. You’ll feel things you’ve never felt before.”

She scoots off Spencer’s lap a bit and he reluctantly loosens his grip. The man wastes no time sliding an arm around her waist and pulling her closer to him. She lets him lead her away. Spencer’s knuckles turn white against the bar counter as he sees the bastard caress her and then sees his hand move lower and squeeze her ass.

He just prays that she can keep herself safe with her training. She couldn’t wear a wire or anything. But he had one to inform JJ and Luke that they were on their way out to them. All he had to do was wait. He heard the confirmation that they’d made it outside and had been spotted by the agents placed there in the alley.

“Guys…tell me what’s going on.” Spencer murmurs into the mic.

“She’s fine. Just sit tight, Spence.” JJ tries to calm him down. It doesn’t work.

“Don’t tell me to just sit tight, JJ. I…I can’t just sit tight knowing she’s out there with that monster. You’ve got eyes on her. Please tell me she’s ok.” Spencer says pleadingly.

“She’s handling herself, man, ok? She’s capable.” Luke now tries to assuage Spencer’s fears. This also is not successful.

“That’s also not what I asked, Luke.”

Spencer hears Luke sigh. “He’s got her up against the alley wall, ok?”

“Well what’s he doing to her?”

“Spence-”

“What’s he doing?” Spencer insisted.

“Well he’s…fondling her…kissing her neck.”

“Jesus Christ…when are you guys gonna apprehend him? What if he hurts her?” Spencer is starting to get very concerned.

“We have to wait.”

“For what?! For him to strangle her?!”

“We need to wait until there is probable cause for an arrest. She’ll fend him off and he’ll push too far.”

“But how far? Does her dress have to be ripped? Does she have to be humiliated coming back in here?” Spencer was getting angry at his friends. They knew how much he cared about her. He didn’t often get like this.

“Just another minute or so, then we’ll go, ok?” Luke says, hoping again that this’ll calm him.

“Ok…only that…no longer. You can’t leave her with him for longer than that. Please…please protect her.” Spencer says softly.

“We will, Spence. We promise.”

“Thank you.” He sighs in relief.

It is indeed only another minute or two before go time, with JJ and Luke revealing themselves to the suspect. He is startled when two FBI agents with guns come out of the shadows. But before he can get angry and lash out at them, he turns that anger towards his potential victim.

“You…bitch!” He seethes, spitting in her face, causing her to gasp. This causes Luke to push him against the wall as he handcuffs him.

“Alright. That’s enough, buddy. We’re taking you in now.”

“You set me up? This was a set up?! I didn’t do anything! You pigs set me up!” He yells as Luke wrestled him over and into a squad car down at the end of the alley.

JJ comforts her briefly as she stands shaking slightly against the wall.

“Go back inside. Spence is quite anxious to see you.”

She chuckles. “Yeah, I bet.”

She wanders back inside the club, tugging her dress to get it back in place, wiping her smudged lipstick off, wiping the spit off as well.

Spencer is out of his seat like a rocket and bounding towards her the second he sees her enter the door she’d exited out of. He doesn’t say anything as he engulfs her in a tight embrace.

“I’m so glad you’re ok.” He whispered softly in her ear.

“I’m always ok.”

“You don’t have to be. It’s ok to not be ok.” He caressed her back.

“I know. But I’m ok.”

“What if…what if I’m not?” He holds her tightly to him. He buried his face in her neck.

“Why would you…not be ok? I’m…I’m fine.”

“You don’t understand, hon. This whole thing…has been near torturous for me. Watching that man…talk to you…flirt with you…touch you and knowing he was…” He’s shaking now and he doesn’t even realize it.

She caresses his back. “Hey…hey…it’s ok. I’m ok. It’s all over now.” She whispered softly.

“I just didn’t want you to get hurt. If that monster had hurt you…”

“Why don’t we get out of here, huh? I think we should go.”

“Fucking finally.” He groans as he wraps an arm around her waist and swiftly makes his way with her to the front exit of the club. He takes a nice deep breath once he’s exposed to the cool night air. He didn’t even realize how suffocating that environment was to him.

He helps her back into the vehicle as it’s brought around and still keeps her close to him as they head to the hotel to decompress for the night.

Once in the calm peaceful safety of the hotel room, he grabs his sleepwear from his bag and then gets hers for her as well. She had retreated to the bathroom to remove her makeup and take the dress off. Spencer enters the bathroom without knocking. He gets an eyeful of his best friend in her underwear and his face turns red.

“Oh um…I’ll just…leave these here. Sorry.” He puts her sleep wear on the counter and turns quickly to leave, shutting the door behind him.

He changes outside the bathroom in the room, still very embarrassed about his faux pas. He should’ve knocked. He just had so much on his mind at that moment that he’d completely forgotten to do it.

He occupied himself with a book as he sat up on the bed. His head lifts when he hears the bathroom door open. As beautiful as she’d looked in that dress and makeup, she looked infinitely more comfortable in her sleep wear and with no makeup. And because she seemed so comfortable and relaxed now, she somehow seemed even more radiant to him.

“Hey.” He says softly as he smiles at her. “Feeling better?”

“Much better. Thank you.” She smiles back at him as she sits on her own bed.

He looks over at her as she gets her own book out to relax. She goes to put her earbuds in her ear and he stops her. He knows she’s going to listen to music.

“You don’t have to put those in. You can just…play it from the phone.”

She looks over at him. “Really? You’re sure? I dunno how you’re gonna feel about some of the music.”

“It’s fine. I’ll listen to whatever you wanna listen to.” He shrugged. He very much wanted to relax and listen to music together with her instead of it seeming like they were doing it separately.

“Ok. Don’t say I didn’t warn you, though.” She chuckles as she puts her earbuds away and turns the volume up on her phone to prepare to play her music.

“It can’t be that bad.”

“You say that now.” She smirks as she presses play.

Classical music starts to play.

“What do you mean you warned me? That’s just Mozart!” He exclaimed.

“For now.”

“Oh for now.” He chuckles, shaking his head. “What’s next…Wagner? Don’t get crazy now.”

“Oh you just wait, Reid…just you wait.”

“Don’t tell me you have Hans Zimmer on there. That’d be really crazy.” He joked.

“Something wrong with movie and tv soundtracks?”

“No, not at all! I love them too. I’m merely amused at what you consider crazy.”

His smile falls when metal music starts playing. She laughs at his confused expression.

“I told you I warned you!”

“Now I’m concerned about what you consider relaxing.” He raises his eyebrows.

“I can always put my earbuds in.” She offers, pointing to them.

“No…no. It’s fine. Then I’d just be concerned for your hearing.” He shakes his head.

“You’re awfully concerned about me a lot of the time.” She notes, pausing the music.

“Of course I am. You’re my best friend. I care about you.”

“Well yeah but…how much?” She queried.

“What do you mean?” He cocks his head.

She scoffs. “You know what I mean, genius. Now answer the question.”

“Well…um…I suppose that…the answer is…a lot.” His gaze is averted from her.

“Spencer…look at me please.” She requests softly.

He obeys and his gaze lifts to meet here. “Yes?” He asks softly.

“Enough to almost blow our chance of catching that scum?”

He chuckled sheepishly, remembering what he’d done. “Yeah…that much.”

She puts her book down and stands up, going over to his bed. He looks up at her as she stands in front of him. She smiles down at him as she reaches up to cup his face. He smiles back up at her, letting her touch him. He wasn’t bothered by her touch.

“You were really scared, weren’t you?” She asks softly.

“I was terrified.”

“Even though I can handle myself?”

“I know you can. That wasn’t the issue. The issue was…” he trails off and his gaze averts briefly.

“Yes?”

“I couldn’t rationalize it in my mind. I knew you could handle yourself but that didn’t seem to matter. I was still scared. I couldn’t calm down. All of my nerves were on edge.”

“But why? If you knew I’d be fine…why worry?”

“Because…I care about you…because…because I think I love you. No…that’s not…I-I know that I love you.”

“You love me? Really?” She smiles.

“Oh absolutely.” He smiled back. “I think I have for quite a while now, I just…I just didn’t know how to express that to you. I could never…find the right words.”

“You couldn’t find the right words?” She chuckles lightly.

“Believe it or not, no. But I’ve…I’ve never been very good at expressing my feelings.”

“Well…the great thing about feelings is…you don’t necessarily need words to express them.”

“You don’t?” He looked at her quizzically.

She shakes her head. “No. You don’t. Actions work just as well.”

“Act-”

She cuts him off for the first time ever by leaning down to kiss him softly. He smiles softly and presses into the kiss. He’s waited so long to feel her lips against his. And it’s just as wonderful as he imagined it would be.

[steviewashere]

Baby Blanket

Rating: General CW: Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Child Abandonment (as I think that's what it would technically be even if Steve is an adult at this point) Tags: Post-Canon, Future Fic, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Sickfic, Established Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Sick Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson Takes Care of Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents, Steve Harrington Has a Complicated Relationship With His Mom, Baby Blanket, Eddie Munson Loves Steve Harrington, Eddie Loves Him So Bad, Steve Harrington Loves Eddie Munson, Sad Steve Harrington, Cuddling & Snuggling For @steddieangstyaugust Day 15 Prompt: Childhood (apologies that I'm late, but this idea hit me very last minute on the 15th, oops!) Also, I didn't mean to describe Linus's (from Peanuts/Charlie Brown) blanket, but I sorta did?

🌡️—————🌡️ He’s careful about inserting the thermometer into Steve’s mouth. Even as the aforementioned guy coughs around it, jostling the little glass thing, nearly knocking it straight back down to the floor. But he’s prepared to keep it from crashing this time. No way is he going out to the store—again—to replace the damn thing.

“Breathe slow through your nose, sweetheart,” Eddie breathes, demanding lightly. “I know it’s hard to do right now, but we won’t get an accurate reading if you spit this thing out.” He cups his palms under Steve’s chin just in case, all too riled at the thought of having to be the catcher on the field. But it just ends up being a precautionary thing—as Steve, though rolling his eyes, does exactly what he’s told.

It’s a slow going process. The mercury inside working up, up, up as the time ticks away. A minute passes and Eddie knows that Steve is suppressing coughs. His eyes have gone watery and his cheeks, already flushed, glow a deeper and brighter terrible red. There’s got to be a huge wad of snot stuck half past and around the block in his right nostril, the feeble attempts at sucking in air are just that—feeble. And the deepest tell to Steve’s state is the awful, wet, raspy rattling croaking from his chest.

Inwardly, Eddie raises his fist at whatever god allowed the creation of the flu virus. And he shakes that fist for causing that damn virus to spread.

His watch beeps, two minutes up. And he gently pries the thermometer from Steve’s overly moist mouth, unlocking the hacking of his lungs, and the spray of his spit, and the miserable attempts to cover it all up with his elbow. Not like that would do anything, Eddie bitterly thinks, I already had this shit last week.

103 degrees Fahrenheit.

“Shit,” Eddie mutters. He sets the thermometer onto the coffee table. Reaches out for Steve’s shoulders and forces him back down onto his right side—half flopped already on the sofa, just needs to get his legs tucked back underneath him. And he pets a shaking hand over the exposed, goosepimpled, and overheated skin of Steve’s bicep. Usually, this muscle tank he’s got going on would be hot, but now it’s just…bleh. “Listen,” Eddie whispers, “if your fever doesn’t break by tomorrow morning, I have to take you to the hospital, okay?”

Steve gives a weak whine. Eyes closed, mouth twisted, shivering. “I don’t wanna,” he petulantly protests; but that’s not going to work on Eddie. Not this time, at least.

“I know,” Eddie murmurs, “I know, baby. But I’m serious this time. You’ve already been sick a while longer than I have. And you’re shaking like a leaf. And though you finally were able to keep down some crackers and soup—and water, thank god—you’ve barely had anything to eat. I’m just”—he sighs—“I’m worried, Steve. I’m worried this is something more than just the average flu.”

Another weak little sound, this time something like a sniffle. And when Eddie gets a clear look at Steve’s face, no longer buried into the soft throw pillow under his head, his heart begins to fracture. Tears streak Steve’s already ruddy, terribly warm cheeks. And his lips are quivering. And his eyebrows are quirked in an uncomfortable twist.

And Eddie hates this.

“Baby?” He calls to Steve.

“S-sorry,” Steve chokes out, “I don’t feel good.”

He brings his hand off of Steve’s bicep, instead cupping the back of his head. “Okay,” he softly says, “you don’t need to be sorry, baby. But thank you for telling me how you’re feeling. Can you tell me what doesn’t feel good? Maybe I can help fix it?”

For a long moment, Steve doesn’t say anything. Instead, he gets the last of his tears out of his system, lets Eddie hold him along his greasy hair, and continues to shiver through his whole body. Finally, he whispers, “Can you stay and…can you cuddle with me?” He doesn’t look Eddie in the eyes when he requests it. Doesn’t dare drag his sight off the loose threads of the throw pillows, strings that Eddie promised he would sew back straight when they were both feeling better. Steve takes another raspy, deep breath that physically pains Eddie to even hear. And then he tacks on, softer than before, “My mom used to when she still loved…” He sighs.

There’s not much to say to that, other than Eddie immediately and already agreeing. Because a cuddle with his boyfriend is as easy as breathing air for him. But they still haven’t touched on the sore subject that is Steve’s parents. Or Steve’s childhood, for that matter.

It’s not like there’s much reason to. Not when they’ve got a life outside of Hawkins now and have their own apartment and Steve hasn’t spoken to either of his parents in roughly three whole years. Not when they’ve learned to take responsibility for each other—both in the duty of making sure the other is safe and healthy, and in the sense that without the other, one of them just wouldn’t be. And it’s never time to talk about Steve’s parents when all they’ve done is push him aside, leave him second best to their work and social lives, and when they finally paid attention—they realized that having a certain type of kid (a word that they don’t repeat, an f word) hindered all the “work” they’ve done for the family they have.

Not that they’re family.

But they tried to act like one at some point.

“Of course, sweetheart,” Eddie whispers, “let’s get you to our room, okay? You want me to get anything else before I slip into bed with you?”

Again, Steve takes a moment of silence. Then, “I stole one of my mom’s blankets when we moved in here. It’s in the hall closet. Can I have that?”

“Yes, baby. What’s the pattern on it?”

Quietly, Steve answers, “My baby blanket. The blue one. It has my name embroidered on it.”

“I’ll grab it, I promise. Now, let me get you to bed and I’ll be with you in just a second.”

He easily and carefully picks Steve up from the couch. Not exactly light, but not heavy either. And shuffles the two of them down the hallway to their bedroom. Tucks Steve under just the top sheet, no comforter. Pushes hair away from his forehead and back behind his ear. Leaves a little kiss to his right cheek, the heat radiating onto Eddie’s lips.

Then, Eddie grabs what he needs: an ice pack from the freezer, a cold bottle of water, the container of cough syrup, and some Tylenol. It’s the baby blanket that’s harder to get. Not because it’s buried in the back of the closet. And not because it’s simply not there.

But it’s the way it lays between Eddie’s hands that really gets him.

It’s a pale blue. Something close to periwinkle. Has a light layer of fuzz and lint, as if it’s hardly been washed over the years. Too precious of cargo to run through the washing machine, and too hard to take away for a hand wash when Steve probably needed it all the time. The edges are frayed—strings loose, some of the stitching completely missing, a few tears that would never be sewn up to the original corner it’s meant to be. There’s a couple small stains on it, most likely from being dragged or even dropped in dirt. In the bottom right corner of the fabric is a name embroidered in off-white floss: Steve. Though, upon closer inspection, it appears one of the letters is missing. The only thing left in its wake is the shadow of what should’ve been an ’N.’ Like maybe it had been altered at some point.

The size of the thing pulls at Eddie’s heart strings, too.

Not a big one—like the quilt his mama made when he had turned three, though it wouldn’t fully cover him until he was ten (when she wouldn’t see him use it, but he tries hard not to think of that. Tries.). It’s not medium, either. No, this baby blanket is the perfect size for a baby; a newborn baby.

Underneath Eddie’s right index finger, he feels a soft tag on the back of the blanket. And when he flips it over, he spots exactly that. A tag. Not with care instructions like some of those store bought blankets—pre-determined with a name. No, it’s a screwy kind of tag. Made from obvious silk, scrap fabric, off-white, too, but yellowing from old age. And in a black, inky scrawl, it reads:

‘For you, my little prince. For my heart. I love you always. -Mommy’

And he didn’t want to cry, but he’s close to bursting with the need to. So, he shoves that little bit of emotion back inside, puts the blanket in the crook of his left elbow, and carries his haul back to their bedroom. Where he finds Steve in the same position: curled up on his left side, hands tucked under his chin, legs bent and ankles crossed, the top sheet pulled all the way up to his wrists, eyes glazed and looking at the empty left spot of the mattress where Eddie should be.

He puts the ice pack on the back of Steve’s neck, even if he’s met with a slight hiss and a half-assed wriggle away. But, thankfully, the fight can be put off because Steve stops trying to get away. To that, Eddie internally relieves a sigh. Twists the cap off of the bottle of water, but places it on Steve’s bedside table for him to reach later. The cough syrup and Tylenol go to Eddie’s table. But the baby blanket goes immediately to Steve, who takes it with quick, healthy movements.

Eddie can only lay himself under the top sheet, melting and softening at the sight of Steve bringing the blanket up close to his face, tucking one of the torn and frayed edges to his bottom lip. He runs the old fabric on his dry mouth, almost like he’s smearing kisses along the thing.

“Thank you,” Steve tiredly breathes.

Laying on his right side, Eddie has full access to Steve from where he is. He reaches out a gentle hand to the side of his boyfriend’s face, caresses his skin tenderly, and then pulls him close between his shoulder blades. Not quite tucked into Eddie’s warmth, but enough that they could share body heat. But he does tangle their legs together, just to give them contact, just to satiate some of what Steve needs.

Steve scoots even closer, though. Closer than how they should lay considering he’s got a temperature that nearly warrants a hospital visit. But Eddie lets him lay his head on his shoulder. Lets him puff warm air onto his neck. Lets him take.

“Eds?”

He hums questioningly.

A hard, yet slow intake of breath. “I miss my mom,” Steve admits quietly. So quietly, Eddie almost doesn’t hear him. But he does. Damnit, he does. “She’s not a bad person. She’s not…she’s not what my dad made her to be.”

“I know,” Eddie can only say, “I know, Stevie.”

“She love—s me.”

Eddie throws his left arm over Steve’s waist, brushes his hand over the small of Steve’s back. “Yeah?” He asks softly.

“Mhm,” Steve answers, “I know it.” Eddie can just feel the tickle of the baby blanket brush him. Like it’s being pulled even closer. “She made this for me. And she…she used to tell me stories. And she took care of me when I was sick.”

He has to bite his tongue, even as his fingers betray him—as they squeeze Steve at the utterance of those words. Because he knows better than to point out the ‘was’ in those sentences. He knows better than to make a point that Steve’s mom hasn’t even bothered to try and keep contact. Even when she was given a phone number—“For emergencies,” so Steve had said.

Though, that makes Eddie wonder if it was for emergencies at all.

Makes him wonder if it really meant, “Call me every once in a while. Don’t be a stranger.”

He can’t tell Steve, delirious and sick and sad Steve, that his mom is effectively a stranger now. Can’t do that. Can’t be the one to tell him that his mom is basically dead. And the evidence of that is her absence.

He can’t do that.

“Oh, she loves you so much, baby,” he lies.

Steve nods. His hair scraping the underside of Eddie’s jaw, dirty and heavy and prickly. “She does,” he agrees. Then, he goes silent again. His fingers running over the blanket, feet rustling under the top sheet, skin on skin, nasally breaths through a stuffed up nose. 

“Doesn’t she?” Steve asks later, quiet and low. Unsure.

🌡️—————🌡️

[rhaenella]

CL16 | Is It Over Now? | pt.3

pairing: charles leclerc x singer!reader

genre: social media au

summary: you and charles have been everyone's fave couple on the grid, but when you somewhat unexpectedly break up, you turn to songwriting to cope with the pain

face claim: léon

a/n: sit back, get comfy, this is quite a long one… let me know if you guys prefer longer but less parts or shorter but more parts. also, if you’d like to be added to the taglist, comment below!

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

part 1 | part 2 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

y/n’s story

Seen by maddyhill, landonorris and 4,292,317 others

7 June

Liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen1 and 1,221,408 others

yn: The video for Is It Over Now? is officially out ✨ Had the best time shooting it with some great, great people. Special thank you to the wonderful director Lina Söderström for embracing my ideas and bringing them to life 🧡

View all 24,291 comments

taylorswift: 👏🏼👏🏼

danielricciardo: Still don’t understand why I couldn’t be a background dancer

yourbestfriend: She was looking for professionals, not clowns

danielricciardo: :(

user1: i love it ❤️❤️❤️❤️

user2: one of your best ever ✨🥹

user3: ARTIST OF THE DECADE

user4: she’s got style, she’s got grace 🎶

landonorris: She’s a winner, she's a lady

Liked by y/n

user4: OMGGG LANDO?? Y/N???

user5: lmao not lando lurking in the comments of y/n’s instagram

user6: y/n, thank you forever for sharing your art 🧡 this song means so much to me

Liked by y/n

23 June

Liked by y/n, breelfilms and 11,872 others

lina.soderstrom: 🎬 Loved creating magic alongside the always fabulous y/n y/l/n

Comments are limited

y/n: Thank you for helping out so lastminute! Could have never done it without you 🤍

lina.soderstrom: For you, anything 💕

24 June

Liked by user20, user21 and 39,179 others

wagsf1update: Charles Leclerc and rumored new girlfriend Maddy Hill were seen attending the opening of Hill’s brother’s art gallery in New York City (6/26)

user14: here we go again

user17: not surprised she’s actively trying to get photographed with him now

user21: she can’t exactly help it that photographers were waiting for them to show up…

user17: sure whatever

26 June

Liked by charles_leclerc, haileybieber and 506,744 others

maddyhill: Feels so good no longer having to hide our love ❤️

View all 5,671 comments

charles_leclerc: ❤️

haileybieber: So happy for you 🥰

user6: did you ever hide it

user3: “our love” lmao what a joke

user10: POWER COUPLE!!!

scuderiaferrari: See you at the Austrian GP! ❤️🏁

maddyhill: You bet!

user2: okay but who the fuck turned admin???

user5: they used to be team y/n… :(

user8: you’re only posting this now cause you feel threatened by y/n’s success

user12: no cap

27 June

Liked by yourbestfriend, sophiet and 1,191,361 others

y/n: Your new girl is my clone… 🎶

Comments have been disabled

27 June

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

Tags: @sukisheadlights @eviethetheatrefreak @blueflorals @kiskso

[trippinsorrows]

with me + part twenty

authors note: this is more on the boring/filler side, and i apologize for that, but it covers some necessary things and hints at other things. plus, the one after this is wrestlemania and then after that is the infamous disney trip, and those def won't be boring/fillers. 👀

also, what do you ya'll think reader is having? i'm also open to name suggestions cause i hate naming characters lmao

status: in progress // masterlist

warnings: fluff, language, angst, and suggestive themes

song inspo: with me by destiny’s child

faceclaims

words: 6.6k

taglist: @pixiedust4000 @yolobloggers @wanderingreigns @southerngirl41 @msbigredmachine @romanreignsbae

Life is one crazy ass ride.

You’ve always known this, but the past few months have really shown you just how insane things can be. It’s been up, it’s been down, it’s been just a fucking rollercoaster of events and emotions, but somehow, things always seen to work out in your favor.

You expected, maybe more so hoped, that your Live with Jadah would go over well. Would help people see and understand that there’s so much more to the story, so much more to you than the lies that have been fed to them by your apparently psychotic ex-best friend. That was the semi-goal.

Well, to say that goal was met is a bit of an understatement.

The Live went viral, spreading and making it to most global and some international platforms. TMZ formally issued an apology to you, Joe, and Jadah, and retracted their story with Mariah, even scrubbing the interview, which Joe’s legal team believes is only to avoid getting caught up in the several lawsuits she’s been slapped with. 

So many publications have turned the tide, no longer speaking on you and your situation with an almost judgmental stance but rather just reposting the Live and letting the facts speak for themselves.

And social media…..holy shit. 

One thing you never expected was for the Live to go viral, but you especially never expected for yourself to also go viral in a different way, that is.

While the general public was initially against you, bashing you every which way to Sunday, it’s almost completely turned with the vast majority now utterly and wholly intrigued with you. They’ve dug up old headshots from when you cheered in college, clips of you either practicing or competing, and a few Snap videos you were in, again, all during your college years.

Not to mention the clips they took from the Live, primarily of you playfully twerking with Jadah. That clipped with the TikToks you did with Naomi has resulted in people making TikToks and “edits,” as Alexis explained, posting and sharing everywhere.

Apparently, the vast majority of social media finds you extremely attractive, and have even been comparing you to the infamous prison bae, Jeremy Meeks, from way back when. Minus the criminal aspects, of course.

“Look at this one! These are my favorite.” Alexis turns her phone so the group of you can see what is yet another edit of you, err, more so your ass than anything to good googly moogly by Project Pat, which apparently was already going viral on TikTok as people post videos of friends and loved ones with a nice ass. Seems you’ve been added to that group.

“I don’t get the fascination,” you admit with a shake of your hand, fingers tapping against your glass of lemonade. “Like, I’m not even famous.”

“You kinda are now,” Bianca suggests. It's a crazy suggestion, too, because in what world does someone like you, from a small ass town with virtually no major social media footprint, qualify as famous. “Not like, A-List celeb famous, but you don’t make it to the Shade Room if you’re not at least kinda famous.”

Alexis makes a sound, adding, “ya’ll whole lil situation made the March event on their calendar.”

“On their what?” Jadah is understandably confused, asking, “what the hell does that even mean?”

“Twin, I’m gonna need to make a PowerPoint for you or something.”

“Please do, and make sure to add the fancy transitions.”

“Custom slide backgrounds?”

“You know the key to my heart.”

The meeting and union of Jadah and Alexis remains to be seen as one of the worst or best things you could have ever done. They’re so damn similar it felt almost criminal to not introduce them, but with both having such strong personalities, a clash could be one of the titans. So far, however, they’re vibing just as well as you and Jadah have. Hence why all of these ladies are sitting around your coffee table, various drinks in hand, most alcoholic, except for yours of course. 

Which reminds you…

“Oh shit,” you announce, four sets of eyes falling on you as you realize you haven’t shared the news with the majority of them, ironically, Jadah being the only one to know. “I haven’t had a chance to ask.”

You decide to be dramatic as hell, pausing as Alexis is the first to say, impatiently, “ask what, hoe?”

Another pause followed by an intentional rub of your belly as you nonchalantly ask, “which one of ya’ll wants to be in charge of planning the baby shower?”

You’re met with instant screams and squeals of enjoyment, a big smile falling on your face as you’re hit with all of the questions and exclamations. 

“I knew it! I knew it was just a matter of time before BDJ struck again!”

“Y/N! Oh my goodness, congratulations!”

“No freaking way! That’s amazing!”

“I’m gonna act like I didn’t already know, so congratulations, great value sister wife!”

Alexis and Jadah’s statements make you laugh while Bianca and Kaylah’s cause your heart to swell. You then try to quiet them down, “thank you, guys. We’re excited. But, we haven’t told Callie yet, so please keep it to yourselves.”

“Of course.” Kaylah excitedly asks, “how far along are you?”

“Almost three months,” you answer, proudly. Although entirely unexpected, or maybe not depending on how you look at it, you’ve found your excitement at this pregnancy growing every single day. Excitement at having another child, giving Callie the chance to be a big sister, to give Joe the opportunity to experience this pregnancy with you from conception to birth and beyond. He deserves it, especially now that you know what he went through with Jadah.

“Wait. Damn. This means we can’t have a hot girl summer until next year!” Alexis is pouting as she downs the rest of her drink before reaching for the bottle to get a refill. “You couldn’t let that nigga shoot up the club later this fall instead.”

Kaylah’s nose turns up as she also takes a sip of her moscato but not before muttering, “didn’t need that visual.”

Rolling your eyes, you point out, “Alexis, we are too damn old to be having a hot girl summer. Half of us are moms and/or in relationships except your non-committal ass.”

Non-committal has nothing to do with the topic that floats to the front of your mind, but having a room full of women to consult with seems like a perfect opportunity to discuss something that’s still bothering you to some extent.

“Let me ask ya’ll something.” You take a sip of your sparkling apple cider and get to explaining. “So, every time I try to talk to Joe about planning for when the baby gets here, like having my mom or his mom come stay with us a bit to help out when he’s on the road, he either ignores me, changes the subject, or just pacifies me. And I’m trying really hard not to cuss him out, but between baby emotions and me being me, it’s hard.”

Being perceptive is always something you’ve prided yourself on, valued as one of your attributes, so it’s hard not to miss when Kaylah, Alexis, and even Jadah all look suddenly uncomfortable with your question, like they also want to change the subject.

Bianca is the first and only to speak out.

“Yeah, that’s kind of weird.” Her agreement is the quintessential example of validation you were needing for this situation. “I get you’re barely three months, but why not start with the plans now? The sooner the better since it seems like his schedule is pretty hectic.”

Throwing your hands up in the air, you echo her sentiments. “Exactly! And one thing to know about me, which I know he has to know about me is that I like to plan. I hate surprises. We need to start figuring out this shit now.”

“I’d definitely talk to him about it, cause men can be very go with the flow, but this isn’t one of those things that I think should be go with the flow.”

“I feel like you should maybe just wait it out and see where the cards fall.” Kaylah’s suggestion is casual, but her eye contact is sparse, and you actually don’t know what to make of that. 

Jadah contributes to the conversation with agreement to Kaylah’s point. “I agree. Trust your man, whore.”

“But—” And as if present and overhearing said conversation, your phone starts to ring, the man himself filling up your lock screen. “Speaking of the devil…..” You lift and show your phone to the group. “I gotta take this ya’ll.”

“Well, duh.” Alexis says like it’s a no brainer. “BDJ probably won’t stop calling until you pick up anyway.”

Laughing, you untangle your legs and climb off the sofa at the same time you answer his FaceTime, quickly telling him, “hold on.”

“I’ll be back,” you inform, but the last thing you hear is Bianca making the awful mistake of asking Alexis what “BDJ” stands for. Alexis and Jadah start to laugh. 

Obviously, Jadah also knows what’s up. 

Locking the door behind you, you sit down on the patio set that was delivered only two days prior and situate your phone on the accompanying table. Legs crossed, you give him the go, “okay, i’m good now. Just wanted some privacy.”

He doesn’t hesitate to slide right into protective papa bear mode. “How you feeling?”

“Alright.” Your hand unintentionally lands on your stomach as you explain, “had some nausea this morning, but that’s not out of the norm. I had pretty bad morning sickness when I was pregnant with Callie the first few months.”

You can tell he’s not entirely satisfied with this answer, leaning more on the concerned and conservative side. “When’s your next checkup?”

“April 8th. I made sure to schedule it so you can be there.” Joe indicated he wanted the first Monday after WrestleMania to be a day of rest for you and Callie, and it can still be, but you also couldn’t miss the opportunity for him to be a part of your first official well-baby visit. Especially with this being the first time you’ll be able to hear the baby’s heartbeat. 

That must especially be special for him.

“I promise I’m okay, Joe.” Out of respect for him and his emotional state at such an important time in his life, you haven’t told him everything Jadah shared with you. Haven’t made him aware of your knowledge regarding his loss. You’re not sure if you ever will, to be honest. If he wishes to discuss that with you, you’ll always be there to listen and support. But, there’s zero desire to dig up painful memories and trigger this man. 

That doesn’t, however, mean you can’t reassure him when you can see there’s a level of anxiety and apprehension. 

“If I wasn’t, you and Dr. Young would be the first to know.” It’s a promise. You would never do anything to risk unnecessary complications with this pregnancy. “How do you feel? You look tired.”

He’s looked as such for the past couple weeks, and you feel slightly bad, knowing the whole Mariah ordeal must have taken a toll on him. Not to mention his intense training and preparation for WrestleMania.

Of course, he just shrugs, playing it off. “I’m good.” You make a knowing sound. “What?”

“Seriously, Joe. This is me. I know you like the back of my hand. You’re exhausted. It’s okay to admit as such.”

“I’m fine, Y/N. I promise.”

Joe is every bit stubborn as he is caring. He won’t agree with you, but that doesn’t make what you’re saying any less true.

“Whatever, just know I’m giving you a well deserved massage when we come to see you next week.” Coyly, you imply with a shrug of your shoulder. “And maybe a lil’ more depending on the layout of your place and if we can get some privacy from your lil’ twin.”

“Naw, that lil more is happening no matter what, even if I have to fuck you in the rental.”

His tone of surety makes you laugh as you think about something. “I don’t think we’ve ever fucked in a car before.” The list of places this man has been balls deep in you is endless, but a vehicle and plane seem to have not made the list. Yet. “Might have to change that.”

He also laughs. “Wherever you want it, baby, you just gotta tell me when and how.” Just more and more reasons to love this man to infinity and beyond. He matches your freak so well.

Joe asks about Callie, of course, and you let him know she’s in seven heaven playing with her cousin in her new room that’s gradually filling up even though she still doesn’t even have all of her stuff from back in your apartment. It also goes without saying that you remind him she’s absolutely thrilled to see him soon, the same as you, which is the same as him. Reunions between the three of you are just all around enjoyable.

Naturally, Joe apologizes, for no good reason, at not being able to come with you as you take Callie back to your hometown for your final apartment walkthrough and to close all other matters, officially making your move to Florida complete. It’s a bit of a bittersweet thing, leaving the place you grew up and have so many memories in. However, what’s ahead of you is so much better than what’s behind you. 

And while you would love Joe to be able to come too, it’s also not necessary.

Especially when he finds out what else is on your agenda before you say goodbye for good. 

Realizing your time with him could be cut at any moment, you decide it’s now or never to break the news to him. “There’s something I need to tell you, and I know right off the bat, you’re not going to be in agreement, but I need you to just hear me out.”

He’s hesitant and already skeptical but nods. “I’m listening.”

A deep breath followed by a quick prayer to the big man that Joe will at least try to be open to this plan. “I’m gonna go see my dad while I’m there.”

This is something you’ve really been thinking about, on and off, since the Christmas ordeal. It just hasn’t been such a major priority given all the other fires you’ve been having to put out. Alexis was right when she said the dynamic with your dad has a lot to do with the situation with Joe and not telling him about Callie.

And you being able to acknowledge that has made you realize you’ve been holding onto a lot of pain and anger towards that man. More pain than anything. And it’s time to let it go. The same way you’re leaving that town for good, albeit bittersweet, you need to drop the baggage of hurt at the door before the curtain closes permanently.

In this case, that means sitting in front of the man who is your biological father and nothing more, speaking your peace, and closing that chapter.

For good. 

To some extent, you expected, maybe more so hoped, for Joe to be more receptive. 

It was wishful thinking, at best.

Immediately, he protests, face turned up in a scowl that reminds you of Callie when she’s in one of her moods. “Like hell you—”

Closing your eyes, you do your best to keep your voice leveled. “Hear me out, please.”

“Y/N, do you not remember the last time you saw that man?” Most definitely do you remember. That was definitely a low moment for you. “You were a fucking wreck. I’m not seeing you go through that again, especially with you being pregnant.”

“Do you really think if I had even an inkling it wouldn’t be safe for our baby I’d be doing it? Come on, Joe. You know me. I would never put either of our children in harm's way.” And you know he knows this, knows this very well, but you can also understand his anxiety from a couple different angles. “Before when I saw him, I was still looking for his love and approval. I can admit that now.” It’s been a tough pill to swallow, going back and forth between emotion and logic, coming to grips with such an uncomfortable truth. “I don’t need that anymore. I don’t even want it. I have you. I have Callie. My mom. Our friends. Even this new baby, but if I’m leaving that town for good, I need to leave all of the hurt it brought me there too. That includes making my peace with him.��

When he still doesn't say anything, you continue to plead your case.

“I need to do this, Joe. I’m not asking you to understand.” You’re not quite sure he could. This is one of those things that unless you’ve lived it, lived with a neglectful, uninvolved parent, you just couldn’t get it. “I’m just asking you to trust me.”

He’s quiet for a few minutes, and you already know it’s because he’s sitting on your words, doing his best to meet you where you are. Eventually, he says in a resigned voice, “I don’t want you going alone.”

There’s an immense amount of gratitude for his blessing, and his request is more than fair.  You also figured as such, assuring him, “I already talked with Bianca about it. She’s gonna go with me.” 

This seems to make him feel at least a little bit better. He scratches his beard. “Alright. But the minute you start feeling off—”

“I’ll cut it off. I know.” That goes without saying. You meant what you said. Nothing could make you put your baby at risk. “Thank you, Joe.”

Not wanting this to be the last topic you discuss, you switch gears a bit to something that will hopefully lessen his unease. “I also think we should tell Callie when we come to see you next week. I just told the girls today, and I’m gonna tell my mom while I’m there. Callie deserves to know.” The order of which you’ve told people about your pregnancy isn’t exactly how you would have preferred it to go. In a perfect world, it would have been Joe, Calllie, your mom, and then your close friends. But, life be lifing, so you just have to roll with it as best you can. 

Joe nods. “I agree.” You overhear a distant voice in the background before his gaze falls on you. “I gotta go, babe.”

It’s hard not to feel disappointed. “I get it.” This pregnancy has your emotions a bit on the high, sensitive end, because there’s no reason for you to feel like crying just because this man has to get back to work. You miss him like crazy, sure, but this has always been a bit of the dynamic. You get him in doses, sometimes big, sometimes small. “Can we still call you tonight? You know Callie can’t sleep unless she can tell both of us goodnight.”

It’s such a twist, a beautiful, unexpected thing. Once upon a time, it was just you she needed to see and/or speak to before she could fall asleep. But now, it’s both you and Joe, and you honestly couldn't love that more. 

Their relationship and bond is so precious to you.

And now that you understand what Joe’s been through, you can see why he’s always willing to move heaven and earth for her. She’s the little girl he’s always wanted and finally has.

“Of course.” You weren’t expecting any other answer. “I love you.”

A warm smile sets on your face. “I love you too, baby.”

You settle on a time that works best for him and end the call. Ignoring the sadness at not being able to talk to him further, you walk back in the house for a sure pick-me-up.

“Well, it’s about time,” Bianca teases, dimples nice and pronounced. “Thought we were gonna have to check on ya’ll.”

“No, she’s back too early….” Alexis, as per usual, confuses you when she asks, “ya’ll weren’t having phone sex?” She curses and then grabs her purse, digging out her wallet, slapping a wad of cash into Jadah’s expecting hand.

“Told you,” Jadah says knowingly, smirk on her pretty face as she counts the cash. “One thing I do know about Joe is he’s an all out type of man. It’s rounds or nothing.” She then looks over at you, apologizing, “hope that doesn’t make you uncomfortable.”

“It doesn’t.” It’s an honest answer. You’re old, mature, and secure enough to acknowledge and be okay with the fact your man has been with her in almost every way he’s probably been with you. Outside of the emotional connection component, which is really what matters the most to you. Sex would just be sex if you didn’t love him as much as you do. If he didn’t love you as much as he does. That’s what makes it so explosive. 

“Well, it bothers me!”  Kaylah looks so disgusted, and you can’t blame her. “Joe is literally like my brother!” 

Bianca cosigns with a shake of her head. “And it bothers me because Y/N literally is my sister.”

“That’s so wild, so ya’ll are half sisters, right?” Jadah asks, pointing between the two of you as you move back onto the sofa. “Same mom or…..”

“No, same dad, but we don’t claim him.”

Jadah makes an ‘O’ with her mouth as Alexis leans over to whisper something in her ear. “Got it. Daddy issues. Ya’ll should just jump him then.”

“That’s what I said! Stomp his ole’ mean ass.”

Yeah…..putting Alexis and Jadah together may have created a new kind of threat to society.

“Anyway.” Refocusing them is really the best and only option. “As we were discussing, ya’ll think I should bring it up to Joe when we fly there next week?” You then remember the pact mentality and aim your question toward Bianca. “Let me just ask you, cause you seem to be the only one who gets where I’m coming from.”

At that, Bianca opens and closes her mouth. “Oh. That. I…..I think you should just leave it alone. I’m sure Joe has his reasons.”

Now it’s your turn to look shocked. “What? That’s not what you said literally not even 10 minutes ago.”

Bianca switching up on you definitely wasn’t in the cards, especially since she was providing you all the affirmation and validation you were seeking in your dilemma. 

She looks off, almost in a guilty, sheepish way. “I changed my mind….”

“What did ya’ll say to her?” It’s directed toward Alexis and and even Jadah, because Kaylah doesn’t seem like the type to try to sway people one way or the other. “Can’t leave ya’ll asses alone for two minutes.”

“I don’t like your tone, Mama Mia. Watch it.” Alexis warns, and you can only roll your eyes. “What you need to be focused on is what you’re gonna wear to the Hall of Fame and WrestleMania.”

Kaylah gasps, also remembering. “Shit, I completely forgot about that.”

Your eyes land on her with premature excitement. “You’re going to the awards too?” She nods and you let out a big sigh of relief. “Oh thank god, I was kinda nervous. I’m sure Trinity is going too, but the more the merrier, I feel like I’m gonna be so out of place there or everyone’s going to hate me.”

“Girl, like Joe is going to let that happen.” Jadah is, surprisingly, the first one to jump to calm your nerves. “Him taking you in and of itself is such a ‘fuck you’ move. He really said ya’ll not about to bully the woman I love and think I’m finna just keep her on the backburner.”

“I agree.” Kaylah chimes, providing additional and useful context. “The internet wrestling community is a cesspool, and they’ll always find some reason to complain and bitch, but Joe has never been about that. He’s gonna have you on his arm regardless of who has something to say about it.” 

“Ummmm, why are we acting like majority of the internet isn’t all on Y/N’s dick now that ya’ll cleared up the air?” Alexis lifts her phone, adding, “I literally can’t get on TikTok or Twitter without seeing edits and photos of Y/N that the internet has dug up. They can’t get enough of her.”

“Her ass, specifically,” Jadah adds, and you shake your head. 

“I think what they’re trying to say is that maybe you should redirect your focus on fashion and hair choices vs public perception, because it seems to be in your favor currently.” Bianca’s advice is wise and on time. It also is very much giving off teacher vibes, just another thing you two can connect on.  

You’re really happy you asked her to come visit you. 

That you gave her a chance.

It’s proving to be a really good decision.

“Well, I’m gonna have my mom do my silk press while I’m there, so there’s that.” Typically, you avoid heat like the plague, sucking up the pain in the ass wash days to keep your curls hydrated and thriving. However, you’re okay with every now and then sitting in that damn chair for what feels like, and is, hours for these special occasions. And attending the Hall of Fame awards as well as WrestleMania definitely constitutes a special moment. “As far as fashion…..I have no idea. I don’t really have a lot of fancy clothes, and the ones I do have are before Callie and even now with the weight I’ve gained from this pregnancy already, I don’t know if I can still wear them.”

“Well then it’s obvious what we need to do.” Alexis says with a ‘duh’ tone. “We need to go find you some dresses! Like, today.”

“I probably do need to pick up something too.” Kaylah says with a heavy sigh. “I think Josh said something about wearing red.”

“Of course you have to wear red. That’s Bloodline colors.” 

You chuckle at Bianca’s enthusiasm. It’s kinda cool that she’s also into wrestling. You’re so tempted to ask Joe if he can get tickets for her, Darius, and Taylor, but you also don’t want to do too much. It already means a lot to you that he got tickets for your mom and Alexis. 

“I hate to pull the girls from their playing. They must be having a blast considering not one has come down in like over an hour.” It’s true. Not to mention you can also occasionally hear the chorus of giggles and shouting indicating just how great a time they’re having.

“I can watch them for ya’ll.”Jadah’s suggestion causes all sets of eyes to land on her. She rolls her eyes. “You all go get the shopping done, and I’ll stay here with the kids.”

“Jadah, you don’t have to—”

“I don’t mind. I’m not really that big on shopping anyway.” Finally. A difference between her and Alexis. “Plus, I have some client stuff I can get caught up with.”

You’re still reluctant, offering her another out. “If you’re sure….”

“Y/N, I would hope by now you’ve figured out I’m too blunt to lie. I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want to.” Jadah shrugs, directing her next statement to Kaylah and Bianca. “If you’re also good with it too, of course.”

Bianca and Kaylah echo agreement with you, hence it being decided.

With a chuckle, you announce, “I guess we’re going shopping.”

———-

Things have been hard since you first landed back in your hometown.

Saying goodbye to your students was hard. 

Saying goodbye to friends in town has been hard. 

Bidding farewell to the apartment you first brought your sweet little girl home to after she was born was very hard.

Visiting your grandma’s grave one last time for who knows how long…..that’ll be brutal.

But this….confronting your father for the last time…

To say you’re a bit on the anxious side is putting it nicely. 

This was always going to be on the nerve inducing side for a variety of good and valid reasons. It’s just getting to the moment where it happens, where you sit in the parking lot of the restaurant he agreed to meet “you” at is just bringing out some indecision you’re certain comes from a place of anxiety.

Finally stepping out of the car, you and Bianca reach the door of the restaurant when she turns to you, mouth turned into a bit of a frown as she reminds, “you sure you want to do this?”

“It’s not about what I want to do. It’s about what I need to do, Bianca.” It’s the truth. This isn’t something you’ve been dying to have happen your entire life, but for the sake of your healing, it’s what needs to happen. “But, if you feel uncomfortable, I totally get—”

“Not at all.” She reaches for your hand. “You’ve got this.”

A deep breath followed by a head nod as you accept her hand. She gives you a little squeeze and opens the door, leading the way figuratively and literally. As expected, he’s already there and waiting, sitting near the back of the restaurant. You’re not surprised a man like him is right on time. He seems like the punctual bastard type.

And Bianca has reiterated as such before. 

Together, you walk hand in hand towards him. Your eyes never leave him, watching as he lights up with a genuine smile at seeing Bianca, but that smile almost instantly drops when he sets his gaze on you.

Expected. 

Wholly expected.

Immediately, his nose is turned up in visible disgust, primarily directed toward you. “Bianca, what is the meaning of this?”

“What?” Her voice is full of nonchalance as is the expression on her face. “I told you your daughter wanted to speak with you.”

He just didn’t know which daughter.

There’s no denying or misunderstanding his anger at the subterfuge. He shoots up from the table. “I’m not putting up with—”

Bianca is quick with it, assertively informing him, “if you want even a chance of seeing Taylor again, you’re gonna sit right back down and hear her out.” It means the world to you that not only has Bianca agreed to be here with you today, but it’s the fact that she’s willing to be so loyal to you.

Like a sister.

Because she is your sister. 

He scoffs almost immediately. “Using my grandchild to blackmail me? That’s low, Bianca. Your mother and I raised you better than that.”

She crosses her arms and matches his energy. “You are the last person that needs to be talking about raising anyone.” She then looks at you, placing a comforting hand on your arm. “I’ll be right over there if you need me, okay?”

Nodding, she gives you one last supportive squeeze and ignores her father to walk over and slide into a booth across the room. 

Left alone, you watch him begrudgingly sit down so he’s across from you, same set of brown eyes locking. It kills you how much of yourself you can see in him, starting with the same set of eyes. You just have to remind yourself that that’s where the similarities end. 

“This won’t take long, which I’m sure you’ll be happy to hear.” He doesn’t agree nor disagree, not that it makes much of a difference to you. At all. “I’m moving from this town. Tomorrow’s the day I hand over my keys, and I’ll officially be living in Florida full time. Not that you care, because we both know you never have and never will give a flying fuck about me.”

“Is there a point to this?” The edge in his voice, maybe even a couple months ago, might have killed you. Stolen your joy. Now, it does nothing. He no longer has that power over you, because you’ve taken that power back. 

And it feels so damn good.

“I did it, you know.” Without giving him a chance, if he even would, to respond, you continue. “I made something of myself. I’m successful. I have a career. I found love all without you ever doing a goddamn thing for me.”

For a second, you swear you see a different emotion flash in his familiar irises, but it’s gone almost instantly, replaced with that permanent disdain you refuse to allow sway you from your goal.

“I have a man who loves me in every single healthy way that exists, who loves our daughter more than there are words in all the languages put together.” Emotion chokes you up, but you manage to stick with the mental points you made for this conversation. “And you wanna know something? We conceived her when he was still married.”

Leaning forward as you lower your voice, both for privacy and emotionality. “But, I didn’t tell him. I deprived him and our little girl for the first almost five years of her life because I was so scared that he was going to be like you, that he was going to reject her and hurt her the way you hurt me.”

It’s a bit painful for you to verbalize those words, but also so damn liberating to free them from the confines of your subconscious.

To also release those shackles they had on you. 

“But, I was so so so wrong, because he is the best damn dad she could have asked for, and he was angry with me for not telling him about her. He wanted to be in her life. He wanted her. And it’s through that I finally realized something.”

Your voice cracks as you finally release your truth and acknowledge freedom from over 30 years of emotional bondage.

“I’ve finally realized after all these years that it’s not that I’m not good enough for you.” You shake your head, pointing at him with all the intention and determination you can muster up. “You’re not good enough for me. Not good enough to be my dad. Definitely not good enough to be a grandfather to my kids. Not good enough to be in my life.” There isn’t an ounce of hesitation or a stutter in your voice. “It’s not that I don’t deserve to be in your life. You don’t deserve to be in mine. You never did, and you never will.”

And never again will you seek out that love and validation from him. You don’t need it. 

You never did.

“I actually feel sorry for you, because I am an amazing, strong black woman who was raised by an even more amazing, strong black woman who was also raised by a phenomenal black woman. And my daughter….” Just thinking about Callie, her warm smile and the great big hug she gave you, before you and Bianca left her and Taylor with your mom, makes you all choked up again. “—is the kindest, sweetest, smartest kid you could ever meet. But as long as there is breath in my body, you will not know her or any other kids I bring into this world.”

That’s a promise, an oath, a swear on everything that you love and hold dear.

“After today, you are dead to me, and I truly hope you one day see all that you missed out on, but I’m not going to wait around for that. I’m going to spend the rest of my life surrounded with love and family because that’s what I deserve.” Grabbing your purse and sliding out the booth, you make eye contact with Bianca who starts to head over. “Take care, Captain Wilson.”

As soon as she’s at your side, he shoots up from the booth. “Bianca, if you leave with that girl—”

“That woman,” Bianca corrects with all the sharpness. “You mean my sister?”

His lips turn up with a hateful snarl. “This hoodrat trash is not your sister.”

You actually laugh at his words, laugh at the fact that he’s truly so pathetic and a piece of shit he couldn’t even take any of what you just said to heart. It also makes you wonder if he’s aware of all the shit that’s been happening online regarding you. Not that it makes a difference.

It’s just something else he would try to use to justify not being in your life.

Like a coward.

“No.” She lifts her chin, taking your hand. “She is my sister, but you?” Bianca shakes her head, and you can hear the emotion catch in her voice. “You’re not my father. You’re the trash.”

If he offers a visible response to her harsh words, you’ll never know because Bianca tugs on your hand, directing the both of you to turn around as she marches you out the restaurant. Once out of the vicinity, she spins you around and brings you in for a big, loving hug.

“I’m so damn proud of you.” Eyes closing, you accept and lean into her embrace. You’re also insanely proud of you. “You said what you had to say. The ball is in his court now.”

“I highly doubt he’s gonna do anything with it.” Separating, you again thank her. “I really appreciate you being here with me today. I’m not sure Joe would have been okay with me doing this, if you weren’t here.”

She smirks, head tilted to the side. “Nowhere else I’d rather be, hun.”

It’s the truth. Along with the fact that you’re not even sure you would and even could have gone through with this if not for her assistance and support. It’s crazy how the people you’ve met in recent months have become such important figures in your life and the people you thought were important are now strangers.

Life….always a wild ride, for sure.

“And speaking of Joe….” She’s understandably confused as you casually throw out, “guess who’s going to WrestleMania with her little sister?”

Bianca’s eyes are as wide as saucers. “Seriously?” Laughing, you nod. “Oh my god—” She captures you in another big hug, the two of you nearly hopping like damn teenagers. “Wait, just me or—”

“Of course not. Taylor and Darius too. I feel like he might divorce your ass if you tried to go without him.”

“You’re not entirely wrong.” Her laughter lessens as she looks at you with admiration and appreciation. “You really didn’t have to do that, Y/N.”

“It wasn’t that big a deal.” And it wasn’t. After biting the bullet and pushing aside unnecessary anxiety, you just shot Joe a text asking if there was any way Bianca and her family could attend Mania. His response was an almost instant yes. “Besides….we’re sisters.” Your eyes begin to water as you give a one shoulder shrug. “We look out for each other.”

Her smile matches the emotionality of this moment. “You’re damn right we do.” Sniffling, she wipes her eyes and then gasps. “Shit, now I need to find a dress. Does this town have any stores where I could maybe find something?”

Her question is so laughable. “Not really, sis. Let’s just wait till we fly home. I’m sure we could find you something there. Maybe the boutique where I got my dresses."

Home…..

You’re not sure if you’ve referred to Florida as home prior to this moment, but it feels so good, so right. Like it’s where you’re supposed to be. Where you were always supposed to be. 

Home with your daughter, with your man, with the baby growing inside you.

With your family.

[madhattervanessa]

Caress

Summary: Life with Simon settles into a routine- but it has to end at some point.

Warnings: (Unedited filth lmao bc I didn't want to wait to post this) Simon being very casually dominant, oral (f receiving), bit of rimming, light anal, P in V, hair pulling, biting, creampie

Words: 1766

A/N: Another another another, and two more down the line. This train is bound to stop sometime soon but until then....

Requests are open as always.

Masterlist - Mobile Masterlist

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Life settles into something absurdly… Normal, after.

After being after Simon had hauled all of your clothes over to his apartment because he had assembled a second dresser in his bedroom next to his own for you.

There had been glimpses of Simon looming over you in your day to day life before but now you can hardly escape the man.

Not that you would want to. 

The store clerk that usually tries to chat you up while you shop for groceries took one good look at the shadow looming over your shoulder and promptly turned the other way.

When Simon picks you up from veteran’s meetings, he always holds your hand as he drives, not even bothering to let go when he shifts gears.

The mask he wears in public doesn’t bother you. It comes off in his apartment, after all.

Or the moment he ate you out on the side of a field because you had fed him a strawberry in his car before murmuring about how you’d thought he’d deserved a reward for picking you up from work. That was enough cause for him to ruck his mask down, too.

It also made for a pleasant dream.

You smile as you open your eyes. It’s still dark outside, the wind howling as it blows through the town. You stretch your body as you rub at your eyes and hear Simon shuffle behind you. He wraps an arm around you to pull you against him. You nudge him with your foot, checking to see if he’s awake.

He grunts in response.

You lift a hand to let it ruffle his damp hair. Blonde, cropped-short.

“Are you leaving again?”

He leans into your touch when you start to put some pressure into your pets, gently massaging his head as you yawn.

“Eager to get rid of me?” His breath feels hot on your cheek, smelling a bit like stale coffee. He trails his lips over your neck until you feel the point of his crooked nose against your skin.

“Don’t know how much longer I can take you fucking me like an animal”, you sigh. He grabs your hand and presses a quick kiss to it.

“‘m set to leave at the end of the week.” Your answering hum is quickly turned into a squeal when Simon pulls you until you are lying underneath him.

His breaths hit your ear and there’s a telltale throb that answers from your legs when he asks you if you think you’ll be able to handle him until then.

You hum and it turns into a whine when he drags his teeth over your neck.

Your breath hitches when he drags the covers off of you and starts making his way down your spine.

“Simon…”

He bites into one of your asscheeks. You squeak in surprise and immediately bury your face in the pillows when you hear him chuckle.

“Spread your legs.”

You blush and hesitate but Simon’s warm hands are already parting your legs. He pushes one of them into the back of your knee, pushing it towards your chest. 

His nose nudges against the swell of your asscheek and you arch your back a little more.

“Mh. Pretty.”

“Si-”, you whine, your cheeks burning already, even though you can’t see the way Simon is staring at you. 

“Can I have a taste?” He is already letting his thumb nudge at the puffy lips of your pussy. “Yeah?”

“Mhm, yes”, you sigh.

He grunts and you jump when you feel his nose nudge against your hole as his tongue licks a broad stripe over your pussy. You sigh and bite at your lip as he repeats the motion, slowly spreading your slick over your pussy before he starts to lick your clit.

He is relentless, always hungry for you- there are already wet sounds from your pussy rubbing against his nose. His wide palms are pulling your cheeks apart as he buries himself in your pussy. When he starts suckling on your clit, he lets his thumb dip inside of your pussy, finally giving you something to clench around.

It’s the focus that turns you on the most- when Simon has sex with you, you feel like the center of the world. The way he focuses on every hitch of your breath, every jump and twitch of muscle as he works you over until he gets it perfect.

You can’t help but jump a little when he pulls your pussy open with his thumb before dragging his tongue over it.

He sits back, his thumb continuing to fuck into you as he does.

“Good girl”, he groans. The wet sounds behind you have you lifting your head from the pillows. Simon’s eyes are still fixed on your pussy as he fists his cock. 

You see his jaw work and watch as he spits onto your pussy. His thumb collects his spit and you feel his thumb travel up. Your brows furrow and you watch, equally confused and aroused, as he circles your asshole with his thumb.

When he pushes it inside a little, you let out a breathy, wet gasp. He continues stroking himself and finally, his eyes meet yours. When you don't protest, he pushes his thumb down with a little more pressure.

“Simon- fuck-... fuck me.”

He hums and slaps the tip of his cock against your pussy, making you whine into the pillow in front of you again, already bracing for him just before he pushes the tip inside of your pussy.

“Fuck love,” he groans. He is careful as he spreads your slick over his cock in shallow thrusts, splitting you apart.

His hand grips hard at your hip as he bottoms out, really making you feel the stretch before he starts to gently roll his hips. You moan and when the next thrust hits you, you go lax in his sheets, blindly trusting him to keep fucking you and keep an eye out for you.

“There you go. You like having somethin’ in your ass, too, hm?”

You just nod weakly, fully focused on the delicious drag of his thick cock in and out of your pussy. Another wet glob of spit meets your ass and he is quick to push it in with his thumb. He moans as he manages to nudge it inside you up to his first knuckle.

You feel unbelievably full, your nerves lit from your head to your toes as you let him pound into you.

“Gonna miss you”, he groans, his second hand grabbing desperately at your hip as his thrusts grow sloppy.

“Not just because of this”, he adds before molding himself to your back. He grinds into you, fucking you with his cock and his thumb as he smothers you into the sheets. His teeth scrape over your shoulder and you take a shuddering breath. 

“Simon-!” Is all you manage but he seems to know just what you need, his second hand reaching underneath you to play with your clit.

He is crushing you with his weight on you but it just feels too good to care about.

Your head swims as you feel yourself rapidly approaching an orgasm. Another pitiful moan follows and you feel the rumble of Simon’s groan as you bear down on him to ride out the sharp spikes of pleasure running through you.

He doesn’t stop. Just slows down, biting lazily into your back. You cry out as he starts to lean back, one of your hands reaching for him.

He catches your hand with his and leans down to press a kiss to it.

“Feel good, love?”, he asks, still going slow, but his deep thrusts are making your eyes cross.

“Uhuh, yeah- fuck- s’good, Si.”

"Yeah.." , he groans, the self-satisfied rumble incensing you for a moment. But then you feel him reaching over until his fingers are gliding through your hair over the back of your neck until they reach the back of your head.

A careful tug has you following his directioning upward. You arch your back and reach out to hold on to the headboard. He leans towards you until you are pressed up against his chest. He continues fucking into you and the angle makes him feel bigger, like he is bulging through your stomach.

Your mouth is hanging open as you pant, trying to keep up with his deep thrusts. You reach back to hold on to his wrist.

"P-Pull harder", you manage. Simon grunts and puts some more strength into his grip, eliciting a deep groan from you. The sharp sting is just enough to make you come again.

The reaction is instant; Simon goes rigid as you grind back against him more, a helpless curse falling from his lips as his thrusts become short and stunted.

He pulls you away from your leverage until you are pressed up entirely against him. He bites down onto your shoulder and fucks up into you, ridiculously overstimulating you, before you feel him twitch and cum inside.

He wraps his arm around your waist and carefully loosens his grip after, still panting heavily. Your head lolls against his shoulder and you feel yourself start to tremble as the tension leaves your body.

He shushes you and presses a gentle kiss to your temple. He lets himself fall back to sit on his legs, pulling you with him.

"You're okay?"

"Uhuh- I just.. I think I need some breakfast", you murmur, still feeling your legs tremble.

"If you can make it to the shower, I'll get something started for you."

He strokes over your arms, rubbing at your legs, slowly bringing you back as you melt into his touch.

"I really want a cinnamon latte. And my back will be killing me after that stunt."

"Okay, love." He presses another wet kiss to your cheek and you smile. You turn your face and catch his jaw in your hand to lead him into a soft kiss.

He hums and leans towards you, making you sway briefly as he all but dips you in the sitting position before pulling you upright.

You're undecided if the motion or the feeling inside of your chest are making your head spin. You open your eyes to find him scooting the two of you towards the edge of the bed.

He helps you get up and you stagger before finding your balance again. When you turn towards him, he slowly scans you until he arrives at your eyes, holding your gaze.

"How long will you be gone for?"

He averts his eyes.

.

[nocasdatsgay]

So Where Do I Start?

Pairing: Eris x F-Reader | Rating: E 🌶️| Eris POV

Word count: 2256 | one-shot | Read on Ao3

Summary: You aren’t fully comfortable with your post baby body and Eris is not having it.

CW: an off screen baby, post baby body, insecurities, sex

A/N: I’ve never had a baby but I do have body issues 😂 there is also a part where Eris thinks about how much he basically missed the intimacy- don’t misconstrue it as him needing sex. I worried when I wrote that. If enough ppl like it I’ll post it on ao3 🫣 I put it on ao3

No tag list for this one cause I don’t want to subject ppl to baby content if they don’t want it 🫣

Eris had been flirting with you all day. You’d asked around lunch what had gotten into him and honestly he didn’t have an answer. Maybe it was the fact you’d both gotten decent sleep, your babe finally being at a point where they could sleep through the night. Maybe it was the fact things had slowed down for him, having finally caught up with paperwork and meetings now that he’d returned to focusing on high lord duties after the weeks spent helping with the baby.

Or maybe he just loved you. Which was nothing new.

Of course when you both got into bed, he couldn’t keep his hands off you. Soft kisses deepened and he pushed up your nightshirt, determined to pull it off but you shoved at his hand. He pulled away immediately, looking down at you with furrowed brows.

“Do you want me to stop?” He whispered. Gods, it felt like it might kill him but he’d do it.

“No.” You didn’t look him in the eyes. “I just, I don’t want,” your voice trailed.

“That’s not exactly reassuring.”

Your gaze met his. You frowned at him. He frowned back. He tried to think of what was bothering you. It had been a few months. Recovery from birth was one of the longer healing processes even in high fae. It was highly possible you weren’t ready despite Edith stating you’d healed up perfectly a month ago. Just because you were cleared didn’t mean you were ready.

“I can wait,” he added. “I am more than happy just keep kissing you.”

“No.” Your eyes widened. “No, I want you. I do. I just. Maybe just leave my shirt on?”

He frowned again. “My love, we talked about this.”

And you both had. He noticed immediately when you started staring too long in the mirror and when you changed up your style of clothing. It took him weeks to convince you to bath with him again, to let him see you fully nude in a neutral setting.

“I know, but this is different.”

“How is it different?” He chuckled and you pouted at him. He sent his love through the bond hoping you’d forgive him for laughing.

“What if- I just don’t think I can handle it if, you know.” You bit your lip and looked away.

“If what?”

“If you- gods Eris you’re such an ass, don’t make me say it.” He grinned at you and it only flustered you more. “What if I kill your mood?”

He blinked, his own eyebrows raised up. “As if you haven’t smacked me several times already in the past month because I have gotten handsy in the bath.”

“That was different,” you protested. “You were just playing.”

He let his voice drop low and put his hand back on your shirt when he replied. “I never play with how much I want you.” He could smell your arousal spike back up. He made sure to lower hand and trace his fingers on your thigh. “Let me show you. If you still don’t believe me then we’ll stop and I’ll go to sleep in the study. Do we have a deal, my fire?”

“Gods you don’t play fair,” you said breathlessly.

“Whatever do you mean?”

He’d already distracted you enough to get his hand farther up your thigh, the shirt inching up with it. He reached your hip, his fingers running over your infernal underwear.

“Can I?” He asked, hooking a finger on the band.

“I don’t know. Can you?” You smarted back.

He looked you straight in the eyes when he replied, “I can and I will.” Then he set your underwear on fire, ensuring it only burned the fabric away and not your skin.

“Eris!” You yelled and pushed up the bed in shock.

“Hush, you’ll wake the baby, love,” he chuckled and used his magic to clear away the ash.

“You set my underwear on fire.” You hissed.

“I did. And I’m about to set that shirt aflame as well if you don’t let me take it off you.” He grinned.

“Fine. But if you can’t get it up, I am cutting your cock off and stuffing it down your throat. Then I’m murdering you.” You hissed and tugged up the nightshirt to pull it over your head.

“I love it when you're feisty.” He purred, his eyes immediately wandering down your body as you tossed the shirt off to the floor. “Where would you like me to start?”

“Start?”

You tried to cover yourself but he was not having it. He crawled over you, grabbing and pinning your arms by your head. He watched in real time your pupils dilate, your eyes going near black.

“I said I would show you how much I want you,” he leaned in and brushed his nose against your own. “So where do I start?”

For once he’d rendered you speechless. Good. He didn’t need you arguing with him when your opinions were clearly wrong. Especially when he let you go and sat up to look you over again. The mother truly blessed him by putting you in his path. He made sure to push that down the bond and smirked at your cheeks darkening.

“I know these are the babe’s favorites.” He whispered. He traced a finger around your breast. “It’s wrong of me to say this but I do enjoy it when you pull my hands up your top.”

“Eris,” you hissed.

“It’s true.” He grinned. “You get my warm hands pressed against your sore breasts and I get to hold you.” You blinked at that confession. “My mate, did you think I had nefarious reasons?”

“I thought you just liked to touch my breasts.”

He shrugged, “what is that phrase my brothers keep spewing when they cheat at cards? A win is in fact still a win?”

You rolled your eyes. He continued moving his finger down your sternum and traced around your stomach. You frowned.

“Despite how you feel, I do love how soft you are now.” His fingers moved around to your side and traced your hip. “And how wide your hips are now.”

“I don’t. I had to buy a whole new wardrobe. That was expensive.”

You then yelped and jolted as he moved over you, putting one leg between your thighs to wedge him apart.

“As if I care about the cost. These hips carried our baby.”

He leaned in and kissed the valley between your breasts. His left hand cupped your right breast when he kissed down your chest again. He could feel you relax under him and grinned against your stomach. He maneuvered himself so he could switch and cup your other one against his heated palm.

“I swear that’s all you're good for,” you teased, placing your hand on top of his. “Male hot stone.”

He slid down further and nipped his teeth at the skin above your belly button and he felt you tense again. He knew you hated how soft your stomach was and how the skin there was still recovering from being stretched to accommodate your child. He’d spend the rest of his life convincing you it was a blessing if he had to. Because it was.

“This beautiful belly of yours,” he kissed your stomach, “made our perfect babe. That was all you, my fire.”

“I know.” You didn’t sound convinced.

Eris knew it would take time. Even if he was impatient, he wouldn’t argue with you. He learned a long time ago that only made you stand firm in your thoughts. Instead he pressed more open mouth kisses along your stomach, pulling his hands away to loop his arms under your thighs. He didn’t miss the way you gasped or how your scent sweetened. He definitely didn’t miss the humming want you were pushing in through the bond. He rolled his hips into the bed like a fuckin youth just to relieve his own tension.

He wasted no more time, eager to get his mouth between your legs. He pulled your legs apart and peppered kisses on the inside of your thighs. You were still tense; something he had not encountered since the first time you were together. Despite your apprehension, you were still wet for him. He tried not to be smug as he put his mouth on you and your body relaxed in his hold.

He moaned as he licked up your center, your taste and smell overwhelming him in the best way. It was almost muscle memory, his tongue moving against your already swollen nub in a way that had you grabbing him by his hair. And by the cauldron, did he miss your hands in his hair.

Eris had planned to take his time. Take you apart slowly and remind you how much he loved you. Your body had other plans. You rolled your hips against his face, and he sucked and licked harder. He didn’t even get his fingers in you before you moaned and arched on the bed.

“Fuck,” you muttered as you came, panting and yanking his hair as he worked you through it. You had enough when you pulled him up.

He laughed. “That’s a record.”

“Is it?” You were still gasping.

“You really know how to stroke a male’s ego.” He sat up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Maybe we should take breaks more often.”

“Insufferable.” You muttered.

“I’m about to be even more insufferable,” he said with a sly tone.

He made certain you were looking when he rolled his pants down, his length springing free and curving up on his stomach.

“Still doubt me?” He smirked and stroked himself.

You groaned. “Fine, I believe you.” Despite your tone you gave him a loving look. “Now hush and come fuck me.”

Eris kicked off his pants and crawled over you. There were no words exchanged as your legs fell open and he seemed to settle in place with ease. You gasped when he reached in between you both to guide himself into your slick heat. He groaned almost too loud when he bottomed out into you and stilled.

By The Mother he missed this. Being so close to you; being physically connected to you. The bond between you both tight, filled with love and passion. He laid there for a moment to savor it. He kissed you deeply and used his hand to bring your leg up farther on his waist.

He pulled away and leaned his forehead to yours. “I swear I’d put another baby in you right now if Edith wouldn’t kill me.”

“I think I would kill you.” Your tone was amused rather than annoyed, thankfully.

“And what sweet death it would be,” he muttered.

He kissed you again and propped himself up on one of his arms. The shift alone felt like lightning shooting up his spine. He realized at that moment he shouldn’t have laughed at you for coming apart so quickly. Eris groaned and cursed when he rocked his hips.

“Know how to stroke a female’s ego.” Your laughter faded into a moan; Eris thrusted into you a little harder.

You were both mostly silent after that. Eris’s mouth was preoccupied with kissing every inch of your face and chest he could reach. You were biting your lip when he wasn’t kissing you so you wouldn’t get vocal and wake the baby. He could feel you plateau through the bond, both of you just enjoying the feeling of being together in this way again.

He finally moved up and put your leg up over his shoulder to let him dive into you harder. You sighed and he felt your pleasure spike through the bond. He tried to not be smug about it. He reached his hand between you and rubbed his thumb gently in time with his thrusts. He grinned at how you mewled.

“Can you come for me again, love?” You nodded. He was close himself, his breathing haggard. “Will you do that for me? Come with me.”

It took a few moments before you arched off the bed again and flooded the bond with your pleasure. He groaned coming right behind you, but not stopping until you stopped pulsing around him. He dropped your leg and damn near collapsed on top of you.

Eris pushed himself off you with a groan, still catching his breath. “I think I need to start training again.”

“Overwork yourself?” You giggled “I think that’s just your age showing.”

Eris bit back a retort. After a moment he reluctantly moved off the bed and muttered he would get you a towel. Sleepiness was creeping into his bones while he cleaned himself off and wet a hand towel for you. He grabbed his pants off the floor where he tossed them and before he returned to bed, he peered into the nursery. Your babe was still fast asleep.

It seemed you were also sleepy when he crept up to the bed and saw your eyes closed. He made sure to heat the towel with his hand before maneuvering it between your legs and cleaning up the mess he made. You inhaled sharply but only blinked at him. He incinerated it once he was done.

“You’re so dramatic,” you grumbled at him.

“But you love me,” he said and leaned in and kissed you again before crawling into bed.

“That I do,” you muttered and scooted over to him so you could cuddle until you both fell asleep.

[ellecdc]

Running Late

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader who is visually impaired

CW: reader has a degenerative eye disease that has left her with little sight, boys are obsessed with her, Marlene and Regulus read Sirius like a book

A/N: another fic no one really asked for but, after my post with our sweet wheelchair user!reader, our resident pink heart emoji felt courageous enough to share their own experience with visual impairment and I was inspired by her to write this - so, I hope you enjoy it 🩷 (and everyone else who might need it 🫶)

There was a time that you and Sirius rivalled one another for who took the longest to get ready, but lately it seemed that you usually won in that regard. 

Remus didn’t mind, however; he’d wait on you for the rest of his life if you’d let him. 

He had a certain amount of patience for you that he, admittedly, did not have for Sirius; seeing as you had your degenerative eye disease to blame on your tardiness whereas Sirius was just a slow and lazy sod who lived to drive Remus mad. 

He and Sirius had been dressed in their best in the living room as they waited for you to finish getting ready before heading to Regulus’ birthday party that Lily and James were throwing for him, when Sirius couldn’t take it any longer.

“I’m just going to go see what is taking so long.” He explained before he disappeared down the hall.

But that was almost 14 minutes ago and now Remus had lost two of his partners in his own flat.

He slowly made his way down the hall to the bedroom door that was currently propped open, allowing him to watch Sirius who was perched on the vanity table as he hovered over you with a stick of eyeliner in his hands. 

You used to be quite adventurous with makeup; always watching new tutorials and trying out different styles. But as your eyesight deteriorated, you opted to remain more natural in your looks, working primarily off of memory than visuals when having to hold a mirror so close to your face no longer allowed you the dexterity to work as you were used to. 

And Remus knew for certain you hadn’t touched that stick of eyeliner in what had to be months. 

“Don’t you trust my abilities?” Sirius asked teasingly; his tongue poking out the side of his mouth as he focused on getting the wing just right.

“‘Course I trust you, Siri. I just-”

“-don’t want to look silly, I know, doll.” Sirius finished for you softly as he leaned back to consider his work. “I’d never let you leave looking silly.”

“When has she ever looked silly, Pads?” Remus asked then, alerting the two of you to his presence. 

“Not once; never.” He answered readily, causing you to scoff.

“See, this is why I don’t trust you; you’re not objective.”

“I am too objective!” Sirius quickly denied.

“Sirius, you think I look sexy with my retainer and flannel pyjamas.” You deadpanned in return. 

“But… you are sexy with your retainer and flannel pyjamas? You just look so cosy which makes me think about bed, which makes me think about going to bed with you, which makes me think about what we do in said bed and-” 

“Alright, alright.” Remus interrupted with a hand on Sirius’ shoulder as he inspected Sirius’ handiwork. 

“How does she look?” Sirius asked him, leaning into Remus’ side as they both watched you flush under their attention. 

“Breathtaking.” Remus offered. 

“You’re not objective, either.” You murmured, pulling the small mirror close to your face in order to scrutinise Sirius’ application. 

“Fine, you want objective, gorgeous?” Sirius quipped as he pulled his phone out.

“What are you doing?” You asked warily as you heard Sirius’ phone begin to ring. 

“Calling the most objective people I know.” He answered just as the ringing stopped.

“What the fuck do you want? And also, where the fuck are you?” Regulus asked his brother.

“Hey Reg, you’re on speaker phone and I need a favour.” 

“On my birthday? You’re asking me for a favour on my birthday?” Regulus asked incredulously. 

“Relax you git, I just need you to find Marlene and put your camera on so you can answer a question for me.” Sirius called back.

You grumbled in protest at Sirius’ theatrics but acquiesced at Remus’ kiss to your temple and thumb rubbing along your shoulder where his hand rested. 

“The fuck does he want!?” You all heard Marlene ask Regulus, causing the two of you to snort and Sirius to scoff in offence. 

“You guys are fuckin’ horrid, listen; how do I look?”

Marlene went first. “Slutty.”

“Like you tried too hard.” Regulus continued.

“Like you’re still trying to piss off your parents even though you don’t talk to them anymore.” 

“Like you were lost at a Paramore concert back in 2007 and still haven’t been picked up from the venue.”

“Okay, okay, Jesus.” Sirius sighed before repositioning himself. “And how does Moony look?”

“Better, I guess.” Regulus offered. 

“If I had to pick a man.” Marlene continued.

“Great.” Sirius said sarcastically. “And what about Y/N?” He asked as he pointed the phone to you. 

Remus could tell you were trying your hardest not to completely turn in on yourself, which he himself was selfishly grateful for as he got to enjoy the view.

“God, she’s such a doll.” Marlene breathed out. 

“You look stunning, love.” Regulus called out.

“Great, you guys are both wankers, love you, see you soon.” Sirius responded before abruptly ending the call.  “Was that objective enough for you?” 

You let out a sigh of faux exasperation and threw your head back. “Okay! Okay.” You relented, allowing Remus to pull you up by your hands and kiss your forehead.

“Oi! Watch the makeup Rem!” Sirius admonished him with a pat to his arse. “We worked hard on that, don’t you know?”

And Remus did know, though he didn’t think you had to. 

Because you were beautiful - always had been - and the way you carried yourself with grace and determination even when you felt as though your body was failing you left you, somehow, even more beautiful. 

Remus had known you before your eyesight started to deteriorate, and he was lucky to have been able to love both versions of you.

Though, selfishly, he thought perhaps he loved this version of you more, simply because it was his.

Simply because it was you; here, now. 

And judging by the lovesick look adorning his boyfriend’s face as he watched you stand and give him a twirl, Sirius felt just the same.

[livelaughlovesubs]

hellooo, i love your writing but im not used to sending asks so forgive me if anything is said poorly or if i do it wrong somehow, but i was curious if your up for writing obey me characters still?

if you are, could i request just ravaging asmo, like to the point where hes crying and not forming coherent sentences, and then just completely switching up after and giving super sweet aftercare? this is sort of inspired by the dazai aftercare post except i want the smut lmao

feel free to refuse or completely ignore this request if you dont feel up to it!

also could i be 🫶 anon? i looked through your anon list and im pretty sure that ones not taken!

remember to take care of yourself and take your time! i hope you're doing well! :)

-🫶

Hello hello~ don’t worry, you are doing great :] Also this will be my first time writing for obey me, bear with me alright? (I only got to chapter/ lesson 22 when I used to play it)

Dom!reader x sub!Asmodeus - reader is gender neutral

Warning: pegging (I use dick), hair pulling, marks, mind break, overstimulation, multiple rounds, a little exhibition?

Creaking sounds lingered around your ears, alongside the breathy moans of the male underneath you. These heavenly noises bounced off the walls, loud enough to seep through the cracks of the door. You were almost worried that other people would hear him, it would be pretty embarrassing at breakfast tomorrow. Though, asmo certainly wouldn’t mind, he’d even brag and show off his hickeys to everyone. How did you know? Because if he had any ounce of shame, he wouldn’t be screaming his lungs out like this. No one can tell you this little slut here doesn’t want his brothers to know he was getting used like a fleshlight.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes for a moment and slowing down, gathering some energy. What time was it, how long have you two been going at it? The stamina of a demon really was scary, to think he was still able to stay awake after was felt like an eternity. He was exhausted too, but he still wanted to keep going. “Haha..” you chuckled as you gazed at his messy face, smiling in amusement at the lewd display in front of you. Asmo was such a charming man, his hair had an indescribable colour that was unique to none other than him. Truly a marvellous gift from god himself. And now, it was sticking to his forehead, all wet due to the layer of sweat covering his skin.

His angelic face was fated to be his weapon for temptation, such a beauty was truly irresistible, befitting of his title as the avatar of lust. Those gorgeous golden eyes were shining like stars, lightening up each time you trusted deep inside him. You almost felt guilty, for defiling that innocent appearance of his. The saying of ‘don’t judge a book by its cover’ was like tailored for him, for this devil with the most saint-like appearance you’ve ever came across. Everything he did was erotic and inviting, causing you to want to ruin him more. Until any traces of that natural pureness he had were wiped away by lust.

“AaahhGg~..! Oh, y/n, right thereeee mhHmm!!” Asmodeus moaned out your name, his voice sweet and coated with honey. His back was facing you, and he arched his body into a crescent shape. Hips and ass high in the air, while his face was being pushed into the very pillow he was hugging. One of your hands were tangled in his rose-tainted hair, switching up from stroking his locks to yanking on them whenever you saw fit. Each time you’d rough him up, he’d whimper shamelessly, grinning from ear to ear as he shakes his butt for you.

He was so beautiful right now. So very stunning. That once cheeky face now all decorated with tears and drool, all blushy like a maiden fresh in love. His eyes rolled back sometimes, as well as him sticking his tongue out and trembling in pleasure. Despite the impaling realisation that he would pass out if this continued any longer, he didn’t yield, only begging you to give him more. Who were you to deny your darlings wishes? You wanted to give him everything he wanted, even if it will cause him back pain for the days to come.

The other hand was on his hips, helping him holding his body up to meet your trusts. Your pace was a steady one, but pretty slow. That’s because your body was sore as well from pounding him for hours. Asmo didn’t mind it, because you were still so good at it, even if you were tired. Every time you drove your length inside him, it hit his abused and used prostate with such accuracy that he can’t help but cry out in bliss. “AhhNnGg! Harder~ ooOOhhH!!” His hole was all red and swollen, it was so puffy, yet he was still able to clench around you. You could feel his insides squeezing your dick, not letting you pull it out of him.

“Such a dirty boy, how did you survive so long without me?” You teased, pulling on his hair suddenly, ending with him throwing his head back with a yelp. “AhH! i- heh, I guess I wasn’t re-really living mHmm~ before meeting you then.” The demon answered, still capable of smiling at you, even if the said smile looked like the dumb grin of a cheap prostitute. “My my, your choice of words are still as romantic as ever. Can you handle another round, asmo?” His dick twitched at your words, leaking some more precum onto the puddle of semen beneath him. “HnGg, of co-course..! Ahh~ y/n, fuck me <3”

A smirk spread on your lips, and you let go of his light brown hair. Instead, you used both hands to hold his waist tightly, enough for it to bruise. “Then I won’t hold myself back.” You said, as a kind of warning. Asmo looked over his shoulder and your eyes met, the desire in his pupils were evident on his body as well as in your eyes. Another giggle slipped from your lips before you moved backwards, then snapping your hips against his in a fast pace. “AhGGhhH! Mo-moRRe!!” While the devil groaned out a series of encouragements for you to continue rutting into him like some beast, he could feel another orgasm approaching. His stomach curled so intensely, and electricity was coursing through his body.

The expression on his face was so dumb, so fucked out of it that he looked like he lost his mind. As if he succumbed to pleasure, him, the very fundament of lust. “Ah.. damn it, you are such a pretty boy asmo.. heh.” You complimented him among all these ruthless thrusts, it was a gentleness he didn’t know he needed to spill over the edge. “NgHHh! Uh-uhMm, I’m cu-cummINNgG <3!!” More tears rolled down his messy cheeks as his orgasm washed over him, this time he didn’t look as sane as before. No, he looked like he was drunk on the ecstasy and pleasure. It was so good, so so so good he couldn’t fathom it! It crashed down on him and his poor, slim body in waves, it was more than what he could handle!

Hearts were sparkling in his pupils, and his hands clutched the pillow so hard that it ripped. He even accidentally switched to his demon form, so his horns, wings and tail popped out. At this point he couldn’t think nor speak properly anymore, only repeating the same phrases like a broken radio. Whines and gasps of pleasure continued to fill the room of the boy, and his tongue was hanging out of his mouth like some dog in heat. Ropes of cum spurt out of his dick, dirtying the sheets below him. His thighs quivered, some of his slick also ran down his inner thighs. After helping him ride out his high, you slowly and gently pulled the cock out of him. Then, you also released his hips.

Two imprints of your hands were left behind, and you couldn’t hide a sadistic smirk. To your surprise asmo whispered to you in a meek voice, “keep.. mhm, holding me..” He was just a twitchy something now, limping on his bed while his brain was still processing all the sensations. It was simply too much, he was going to take a while until he’ll be responsive again. Even so he still craved your touch, he did have an adorable side to him didn’t he?

“I’ll, if that’s what you want.” You replied and grabbed his tiny waist again, this time you leaned down and pressed your body against his. After waiting and taking a break for a new minutes, you kissed his neck softly, before mumbling quietly, “wanna go wash up now, love?” Not once have you left his side while waiting patiently, giving him some time to reorganise. “Hmmm… can’t we stay like t-this a tad longer?” Asmo pouted and sighed, already feeling sore and the aftermath of the long session. God, he was still stumbling over his words! Just how hard did you fuck him? He will definitely walk funnily tomorrow, if he can even stand on his own two legs. “We can still cuddle after taking a shower. Come on, you go first while I clean up.” You suggested, knowing that he was totally out of energy.

“Nuuu! I want to stay like this! Pleaseeee? Pretty please??” He blinked at you, looking at you with puppy eyes, knowing that this trick always works on you. “Ugh! Fine, fine, if that’s what my princess here wants.” You sighed, acting annoyed at him doing as he pleased. “Hehe~” the devil laughed satisfied, resting his chin on the pillow as he enjoyed your touch. Next thing he knew you kissed his cheeks, while tugging his still chaotic hair behind his ear. While you did those things, you said with a little smile, “You did well asmo, I’m so proud of you.”

Huh. Where did that come from? Out of nowhere his face heated up again, and that right after you thought he had calmed down. “Aww, you are so cute y/n!” He responded immediately, though a hint of nervousness was laced and hidden behind his voice. Was the avatar of lust perhaps flustered or embarrassed about your words? Pff. You laughed in his face, before giving his forehead a peck. “Ahh~ I love you, my prince.”

[chukys-mouthguard]

The Hills

Genre: angst, smut, fluff ending

Warnings: toxic relationship, fighting, sexual conduct, 18+ minors dni, Matthew loving praise and compliments

Featuring: matthew tkachuk x female reader

Summary: you and matt fight hard…but when the fighting is hard, the making up is so much harder ;)

Note: in honor of the panthers win, i figured today would be the day i post this. Haven’t written smut in awhile so fingers crossed it’s not awful

You ran your hand through your hair as you watched Matthew skate off the ice. He’d just gotten into a bench clearing brawl that resulted in him being ejected from the game. While him being a pest and occasionally fighting was part of his game you were used to, it didn’t mean you had to like it. And sure, you obviously come to games to support the team. But it sucks having to sit in the stands while your boyfriend is hitting the showers early. 

“Y/n, you okay?” 

You looked over at Sam Reinhart’s girlfriend, trying to muster up a smile but she could see right through you. “I just hate when he does this shit. Cause now I get to deal with him at home.” Once there was a stoppage in play you threw your bag over your shoulder and stood up, “I’m going down early.” The girls not blaming you, they knew your relationship with Matthew all too well by now and when you both were in your moods, it was best to let you be. 

Things with Matthew were great 60 percent of the time, 40 percent of the time you often wondered why the hell you two were together. You’d been together 3 years now and yet the fighting only seemed to get worse. But on the flip side, so did everything else. The sex, the romance, everything seemed heightened the longer you two stuck it out. 

Making your way down to the family area you knew you’d be waiting awhile, with Matthew only having been ejected in the second period. But you wanted to be by yourself, your frustration and anger not fair to take out on the girls who were trying to enjoy the rest of the game. You helped yourself to the complimentary drinks, though you knew it probably wasn’t the best idea with you already being frustrated. Alcohol was just adding gasoline to the fire. 

buzz buzz

Picking up your phone you saw Matthew’s name flash across the screen, meaning he’d finished showering and getting any medical attention after his fight. 

“Where ya at?”

“Family area.”

Turning your attention back to the game being broadcast on the large tv’s in the area, you hadn’t noticed Matthew walking over to you. “Fucking 6 drinks? Jesus Christ, is the game that bad?” He chuckled as he grabbed your chin and pulled you in for a kiss. “Yeah, it fucking sucks when your boyfriend gets thrown out in the second period and I’m left watching anyone but him.” He rolled his eyes at you as he turned his attention to the screens. His fingers intertwining with yours as he stood with you for a bit, needing to leave in the last few minutes to be in the locker room with the boys for the post game talk from coach. 

He kissed your head before leaving, “maybe fix the attitude before I come back out huh? I’m not in the mood for the bullshit tonight.” You rolled your eyes as you flashed him a fake smile, the drinks hitting you all at once and you were also not in the mood, but you knew it was inevitable. The two of you already egging each other on. 

“Have a good night guys, see you Monday.” 

Matthew called to his teammates before meeting you at the end of the hall to head to the car. Your six drinks definitely had you a bit more than tipsy, and he could tell. Simply ignoring it as he took your hand in his, not wanting to start a fight at the rink in front of anyone. The walk to the car silent, but once the doors closed, he unloaded on you. 

“Are you fucking serious? Getting drunk, by yourself? In front of god knows who from the organization! Do you think? Sometimes I truly don’t get what goes through your head or convinces you to do this shit.” 

“You!” 

Without hesitation you spat back at him as you threw your bag into the backseat. Resting your head on your fist as you leaned against the window, not wanting to look at Matthew. 

“Me? I make you drink and make a fool of yourself? I’d love to know how the fuck I do that.” 

“Because I’m dating a guy who loves to start shit. To play dirty, take cheap shots, get in dumb ass fights for fun on the ice and he gets thrown out. I can never enjoy a game and cheer you on like all the other girls get to do.” 

His grip on the steering wheel tightening as he tried to bite his tongue. Knowing you were drunk made it hard to be truly angry with you, because you were spitting out harsh digs. But he knew this was coming from a place of hurt within you, and he knew to take some of it for what it was. 

The rest of the ride was silent, Matthew trying to cool off while you were trying to bite your tongue and not say another drunken fueled slew of harsh comments. 

As he pulled into the garage, he took the key from the ignition before looking at you frustrated. His voice coming out calm but stern as he spoke, letting you know he was upset and more importantly, he was hurt. 

“If you feel like you have no reason to be proud of me, or to cheer for me. Then, don’t fucking come! Stop coming to games. Stop wearing my jersey, or any of the custom game day shit I buy for you. Because if you’re not proud to be my girlfriend and support me, whether I’m scoring goals or getting in fights, then I don’t want you wearing any of that shit. Pretending like you support me when really you wish I was something else.” 

Before he could say anything else, you stormed off and into the house. Immediately heading to your closet in your bedroom and pulling out any of the gameday jackets and jerseys Matthew had ever gotten you. Matthew soon trailing after, only to find you halfway down the stairs with a handful of clothes. Taking them to the backyard and tossing them in the fire pit, Matthew sprinting after you to stop the drunken act from going any further. 

“You don’t want me to wear these? Fuck you! Then no one is ever gonna get to wear these again!” 

Luckily Matthew had gotten to you before you dared light the fire pit and send the clothes up in flames. You tried fighting him but his grip on your waist was too strong, pulling you away from the fire pit as you began to cry. 

The way Matthew held you could back you down from whatever cliff you were on. His embrace immediately relaxing your entire body as you cried in his arms. He just held you, not bothering to acknowledge what you were about to do in your drunken rage. Letting you have as long as you needed to calm down. 

“I hate you, so much. How could you say that you don’t want me to come?” He shushed you as he helped you back to your feet, leading you inside. “Y/n, you have no right to criticize the way I play this sport. You’re making it about you when you know this is how I play my game. I was brought here, because of how I play. I’m successful in this league, for how I play my game. And I know you don’t mean any of this shit you’re saying tonight. But I’m not going to forget it. That shit hurts feeling like my own girlfriend doesn’t even support me.” 

The tone of his voice immediately sobering you up. The last thing you ever wanted to do tonight was this, but once again, it was like the two of you fighting had become inevitable these days. You didn’t know what it was that made you two constantly get on one another’s nerves. It was like fighting had become your love language. Because the stronger the fight, the stronger you two made up. 

Matthew had left you in the kitchen as he headed up the stairs to the bedroom, then into your shared closet. Tossing his tie to the floor before discarding his suit jacket and dress shirt with a sigh. He’d be lying if he said he never questioned why you two constantly did this, the fighting like crazy. Spitting harsh things to one another before always making up in the end. There’s no way it was healthy, but he loved you more than anything, and the second he ever thought of just walking away, he’d immediately regret even thinking about it to begin with. 

He hadn’t even heard you enter the closet, slightly flinching as your arms snaked around his waist. Resting your head on his back as your hands ran up his stomach and over his chest.  Not sure if you should attempt to apologize or not, waiting for some type of reaction from him to be your sign. 

“Are you done?”

His tone a bit harsh as he relaxed more into your touch. “Matty I’m so fucking sorry. I, it’s not an excuse, I was drunk, and upset. But, you know I’m so fucking proud of you. I should have never said any of those things to you. Should never have even thought of burning those clothes. That all was so stupid.” 

He somewhat chuckled as he listened to you apologize, his mind not even focused on the last hours events, just focusing on getting past it all. 

He turned to face you, seeing you’d been crying downstairs, brushing you hair from your face before resting a hand on your cheek.

“We can’t keep doing this, fighting like crazy. Being so awful to one another just to turn around and say we didn’t mean it. There’s clearly something going on making us act this way. I don’t know if we get off on the fighting, but we can’t keep doing it. Especially after the shit you said tonight. You were ready to burn all of those clothes I’d gotten for you. I’ve never seen you like that. And that hurt.” 

Your gaze dropping to the floor as you felt embarrassed, ashamed even of getting so drunk and taking out your frustrations on Matthew. It was stupid to be mad at him for getting ejected, because you know this is how he plays. You’ve known him to be this way since you started dating, and to compare him to anyone else is unfair. 

“Baby I’m sorry. I’m so fucking proud of you. Every day, I’m proud of you. You fucking played in the playoffs last year with a broken sternum! While I found that hot as fuck that you fought through the pain, it did scare me at times. But you’re right, this is who you are. And I love that about you. I love seeing you slam guys to the ice, stick up for your teammates, and get to play the game you love as your job.” 

Your compliments always working wonders on Matt, and it wasn’t that they were disingenuous. It was the way you complimented him that just did something to him. Hearing you say how hot he looks when he’s in the middle of a scrum, or when he lays a big hit. He’d let you compliment him for hours. 

“Keep going.” He smirked down at you with a cocky grin, letting you know his anger was subsiding. His hands now moving to your waist, pulling you closer to him. 

“I mean, you did look pretty hot beating the shit out of that guy tonight. Your mouth guard hanging out of the side of your mouth as you took him to the ice.” Your fingers playing with the curls of hair on his chest as you bit your lip. 

“And don’t get me started with how sexy you looked sitting in the penalty box, legs spread apart as you caught your breath. I can’t tell you badly I wish I could’ve come in there and climbed right in your lap.” 

He moaned as your hand traveled down to the bulge that was growing in his dress pants. “Well, who says you can’t still have your chance to climb in my lap tonight?” 

Without warning he picked you up by your thighs, your legs subconsciously wrapping around his waist as he carried you into the bedroom. Sitting on the edge of the bed and letting you have your moment in his lap. “How’s that feel baby?” 

Grinding your hips so your ass painfully circled over his rock hard erection that was practically bursting through the seams of his dress pants. “Mmm, it’s amazing, but I think you might need to take those pants off. Feels like your zipper is about to pop.” 

Slowly climbing off of him, you took your place on your knees as his hands flew to the buckle of his belt. Getting it undone and off, making your job easier. Making sure to palm him through his pants on your way to the button and zipper. Pulling his pants and boxers down in one motion as his cock sprang out and slapped his stomach. The sight mouth watering for you and you couldn’t wait to have him. 

Matthew’s hands immediately grabbing fistfuls of your hair as he guided you down his length. Holding you as you deepthroated him. A low groan coming from his lips as his head fell back. 

“Fuck me, y/n. You’re such a good girl for me.” 

His words of encouragement going right to your core as you clenched your thighs, feeling your pussy pulse. As much as you wanted him to have his way with you, you knew that you needed to make up for the shit you pulled earlier. 

Your head now bobbing up and down on his length as his hips were thrusting to meet your mouth, the expletives pouring from his lips before he forced you down, taking all of him once again. 

“Jesus Christ baby, you’re such a good girl taking all of me in your mouth like that.” He pulled you from his length, pulling you to your feet as he stood up. Looking down at you with lust filled eyes before swapping your places. 

“Get these clothes off.” 

Matthew working on your bottoms as you handled your top half. By the look in his eyes you knew you were in for some serious teasing. His favorite way to get back at you for nights like tonight. 

He trailed kisses up your thighs before brushing his scruff over your core, causing your hips to buck against him. “Mmm, someone is needy tonight huh? Too bad you’re gonna have to be really patient.” 

You groaned as he kissed and touched everywhere except where you needed him. But you knew if you tried to lead him in that direction, he’d only do the opposite. 

Matthew loved how needy you’d get, seeing the want in your face as he teased you. His fingers lightly tracing your slit, feeling how wet you were for him. Taking his fingers to his mouth and tasting you. 

“Tell me what you want baby, I wanna hear you beg.” 

Where did you start? You wanted it all, and you wanted it now. Your brain couldn’t pick one thing, your thighs pressing together in need or some form of pressure at your core. 

Matthew pushed your thighs apart as he found his place between them. “I guess I get to pick huh? Make sure you tell me what feels good baby. You know I love hearing you.” He smirked before lowering himself down, hooking his arms around your thighs before his tongue traced up your slit.

“Fuck…oh my goddddd.” Your eyes rolling back as you arched your back. His touch feeling like fire as you tried your best to deepen the contact. Needing more. 

He smirked against you as he focused on your clit. His tongue lapping up your wetness as he quickly slipped two fingers inside. A gaps catching in your throat as you immediately began grinding with his rhythm. “Mmm, yes baby.” He felt himself getting harder by the second at you grinding against him while his fingers thrust in and out of you. His tongue not stopping as your hands burried in his curls. 

“Yes Matthew, don’t stop. Please don’t fucking stop. God you make me feel so good.” Your back arching even further off the bed as you felt your release close, moans and expletives continuing to pour from your lips. 

Picking up his pace as he felt you close, Matthew locked eyes with you. Lust filling his orbs as his fingers turned their efforts to your clit. The sensation too much as your hips bucked and legs began to shake, your breath short as you tried holding in your screams. 

“You think I can make you squirt for me tonight baby? Show me what a good job I’m doing?”

“God fuck, yes Matty. I wanna squirt for you so bad. Please!” 

Matthew quickly pressed his mouth back to your clit as his fingers thrust back inside you, riding you through this orgasm. Your entire body shaking as you kept your eyes locked with his, watching as you felt your release coming. Squirting all over him as his fingers never stopped. Draining you completely as you tried to catch your breath, his fingers now in his mouth as he tasted you. 

“Fuck you’re delicious baby. Now get back in my lap.” 

Sensing you were in a daze of lust and overstimulation, Matt picked you up, flipping you over and into his lap. Groaning at the feeling of your dripping pussy gliding along his length. 

The two of you taking a second to catch your breath before you lined his cock with your entrance, slowly sliding down to adjust to him as you both let out a moan, taking all of him inside. “Fuck baby, I don’t think I’m lasting long tonight. You’ve got me so close already. Fuck me and show me what a good girl you are.” 

And with that you pushed him back on the bed as you used his chest to support you, bouncing your ass up and down on his cock. His hands gripping your hips and slamming you down harder. He groans now deep as he could barely hold back, he thrusts sloppier as he reached his peak. 

“Matty, fuck me. I know you need it baby. I need it. Give it to me please. I love when you pound my pussy baby.” 

He pulled you down into his chest, wrapping his arms around you before he began to take over. Pounding your pussy as hard as he could, as fast as he could. Needing to give you what you needed, to get what he needed. Moans pouring from his lips as he held you tighter, your pussy dripping as you could barely breathe. 

“Where do you want it baby? I’m gonna cum.” 

“Anywhere, just give it to me please.” 

He delivers a few more hard sloppy thrusts before moving you off of him, “knees.” He instructs you to find your place on the floor as he stands above you, his wrist quickly jerking his length as his hips buck and a soft groan erupts from him. 

You’d taken his length in your mouth as he thrusted forward towards you. Taking all of him as he bucked his hips, emptying his release into your throat as you swallowed it all. “Fuck…me.” As you made sure you’d gotten every drop, you slowly pulled yourself from him. Matthew falling back onto the bed as he caught his breath. 

“You’re fucking amazing baby.” He helped you up and pulled you in for a kiss, giving you a little spank on your ass. 

“Now, go get all of those clothes out of the fire pit and then I’ll help you get cleaned up.” 

[suzayaaa]

POLAROID LOVE - 성찬

pairing: sungchan x fem!reader

word count: 2.3k

theme: non-idol!sungchan, angst, slice of life, boyfriend au

warnings: mentions of food, cursing

inspired by arguments with riize by @wonbnz

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

“I don’t want to see you ever again”

“Then you won’t”

The words echoed in your head like a siren. You and Sungchan rarely argued, but even if you did, it was never to this extent. It reached the point where you aren’t sure you are still a couple. You haven’t talked for two weeks.

You never meant the words you said, yet you also never expected Sungchan to leave. It was all a misunderstanding caused by high emotions and a battle between your hearts and feelings of pride.

At first, it didn’t even bother you. The argument was so strong the negative feelings stayed with you for at least a couple of days, and it wasn’t until you got to spend some time alone with your thoughts that you realized you were not happy with the situation. Still, you weren’t ready to contact Sungchan and were highly disappointed he didn’t try either.

But you missed him. You missed the sound of his laughter at everything you do, the smell of his perfume in every corner of your apartment, the excited screams every time he found the opportunity to compete with you even on the most mundane tasks, the smile on his face every time you woke up because of his kisses, the adoration in his eyes every time you spoke.

All of those things were a daily thing, and you never realized how important it is to you until now.

For the past three days, you tried texting and calling him, always checking your phone just to be met with a lack of response. He didn’t even post anything on social media and wasn’t even featured on his friends’ stories. You thought maybe he’s doing it on purpose or maybe he is just busier than usual. That would explain the peace your phone was experiencing.

You tried not to give it much thought (after all, you’re mad at him), but soon, disappointment turned into guilt and worry.

You were scared. You don’t know where he is, how he is, and if he is still your boyfriend. You don’t even know if he is alive.

Love doesn’t go away when something bad happens. Love never leaves, even when you’re sick of that person, even when your heart is shattered. Despite hurting each other more than you could ever imagine, you still love him. You still care about him and you still want to be by his side.

You couldn’t wait any longer.

But you had no idea where to find him. Sungchan is a wild card. After two weeks, he could be at the other end of the world and you would never know, and he didn’t owe you any explanation. After a whole day of thinking, your brain had offered you two options, and after another day, you decided on the more pleasant one.

Standing at the door with your arms crossed, you look around again before licking your lips. You could still change your mind, go back home, and hope for the man to be a man. Your heart definitely didn’t beat as fast when you were just thinking about it—the confrontation feels scarier than you would like to admit. You shake your head, tell yourself to ‘stop this bullshit and just do it’, and knock on the door. The silence following the knock feels much quieter and those few seconds feel like eternity. Just as you’re sure your soul is about to jump out of you and run away, the door opens and your heartbeat almost stops.

“Seunghan! Hi”

Not your target, but a good start.

You smile at him as he greets you with raised eyebrows, visibly shocked to see you. “Is… um, is Sungchan here?” The quiet voices coming from the apartment raise your hopes and your eyes almost plead for a yes.

“No, he went to play soccer with the guys,” Seunghan gulps at the disappointment on your face, “but come in! They should be back soon, besides, we haven’t seen you for a while.”

You wonder if it’s a good idea to spend time with his friends when you don’t know if you should add ‘ex’ in front of ‘boyfriend’ in Sungchan’s contact name, but as the boyish scent hits your nose when Seunghan opens the door wider, you decide to think less today.

You mutter a ‘thank you’ and enter the apartment.

Before you started dating, Sungchan spent every free moment he had with the boys there. You thought they all lived here together, but when all of them answered ‘it’s complicated’ when you asked, you chose to drop the topic. Even after you became a couple, Sungchan often offered to hang out there, saying he likes how you get along with his friends. You didn’t mind either. Sungchan has very good friends and interacting with them is fun. They welcomed you warmly in their circle, even saying they are on your side now (although you saw some terrified faces when Seunghan said they would beat Sungchan up if he did something to you).

As you take your shoes off, you notice Sohee and Anton playing games in the living room. You shyly walk towards them, not sure what to do or say. You don’t hang out with them without Sungchan around, and your current situation puts you in a more than awkward place.

“Hi,” you sit on the couch and press your lips together. They were quite startled when they noticed you after they paused the game, but the soft smiles on their faces reassured you a little.

The conversation started slowly. After some stutters and seconds of silence, the four of you eventually found your pace and soon the place was filled with soft laughs and lively topics. The boys did everything to entertain you—Sohee proudly showing his vocal talent during a karaoke session, a game of Just Dance with you stealing the show, a long hour of playing Mario Kart, and, of course, a big round of teasing Anton about everything you could think of. The effort put into all of the games caused your stomachs to cry for food, almost in unison.

“I’ll get some food,” Seunghan says, putting his phone on a coffee table.

“I’ll help,” you quickly follow him to the kitchen. You don’t expect anything extraordinary to eat, as this place hasn’t seen a woman for more than two weeks (unless something in the guys’ lives finally moved, or one of the moms visited—your brain rejects the thought of the worst possible option), so you’re not surprised when Seunghan prepares leftovers and snacks. You watch him shuffle around the kitchen and you think something to drink would be a good idea, so you get the glasses and pour coke in them.

As you close the cap, you hear a front door open and your body has to live on its own now. Your brain, heart, soul, everything stops when you hear male voices talking, one standing out to you.

He is here.

You don’t know what to do. The boys successfully took your mind away from Sungchan, to the point where you forgot why you’re here in the first place. You don’t know what to say to him, how to even face him. You don’t want the boys to feel awkward, but the tension between you is as clear as a summer sky, and you haven’t even seen each other yet. You stare at the bottle in your hands and squeeze it desperately when the voices get closer. Maybe there’s a way you can escape. Maybe if you’re fast enough no one will-

“Hey”

Too late.

You slowly turn around to face him and you think you may pass out. He’s standing at the entrance to the kitchen stiffly, looking as casual as ever, but to you, he’s the most beautiful human you have ever laid your eyes on. The oversized pants and tee, hair messed up by the wind outside, the uncomfortable stance. You don’t know if it’s just love or if you’re that desperate, but everything about him makes you forget all the sad things you said to each other.

“Hi”

A simple hey. A simple hey is all that makes you want to throw yourself on him with all your strength, see his smile and hear his laugh forever until you die, tell him everything you love about him and everything you see in him, even serenade him. Sungchan makes your insides explode with love and even though you feel like you’re on a cloud, you do nothing.

You two just stare at each other from a distance of at least three meters, not moving any muscle. You notice Seunghan and the food are no longer there, instead, most of the guys are chatting quietly in the living room, some of them secretly glancing at you from time to time.

You cannot handle the tension anymore, so you take a quick breath and ask “Can we talk after you shower?”

Sungchan’s mouth parts slightly when you speak and his stare softens a little, but he quickly collects himself. “Okay, go to my room” is the only thing he says before he leaves to go to the bathroom. You give a small smile and a nod to the boys looking at you weirdly and do as Sungchan says.

You walk into the room and the first thing you do is make his bed out of habit. You realize you don’t know if it’s appropriate anymore. You cover your mouth with your hands and sit on the bed, looking around.

It feels like ages since you’ve been here. You didn’t even realize how used you are to his presence until you stopped talking—thinking of that, what are you going to tell him? You were right about coming here, but your plan only reached seeing Sungchan. You left out the most important part, and now you don’t know what to do. Again.

Your eyes catch polaroids scattered all over his desk and you instinctively get up to see them. Your hands take one and as you stare, you realize.

These are all the polaroids from your dates. All the way, from the start of your relationship until today. You look at each of them and you hate the feeling of the sting in your eyes and nose.

Your first date, your first kiss, and the ice cream you accidentally dropped during it. The first time you visited each other’s apartments. Your first trip together, a competition on who can name more animals in the zoo. The gift you got him for his birthday, a game he had talked about for months. The flowers he bought for you because you had a bad day. Your first anniversary. The cupboard you accidentally broke at your apartment. The terribly done face mask he tried to put on his face. Celebrating New Year together. Sunset watching. The moment you said the three words to each other for the first time, and the hundreds of walks that brought you two closer each time just by walking next to each other.

“That wasn’t even my fault!”

“You’re a dick”

“And you’re a bitch, but I don’t tell you that every time I see you”

“Maybe you should! Maybe you should start talking instead of giving excuses like a fucking kid!”

You rest your head on the chair. You finally let all your emotions leave you as you sob quietly. Every important moment of your relationship is right in front of you and you’re letting it get crashed down by a stupid argument. You’re letting the main source of your happiness go just because you can’t communicate. You’re letting Sungchan go when dating him is nothing but a dream to you.

You lift your head up when you feel a hand on your back. When your eyes meet his, you throw yourself at him and hug him as if he is going to disappear at any moment. Your tears stain his shirt as you mumble countless apologies into his chest, sniffing and sobbing. His arms wrap tightly around your shaking body and he strokes your head in an attempt to calm you down. You clutch his shirt in your hands and weep even more when he starts whispering, “It’s okay.”

“I’m so sorry, I just… I saw these polaroids and I thought you were going to break up with me and I don’t want to break up because I love you and I was so stupid for starting all of this and I said all these things I didn’t mean and,” you stop when you run out of air.

Sungchan lifts your head up with his fingers and that’s when you notice his teary eyes. His gentle smile causes another stream of tears. He hugs you closer and gets the hair out of your face.

“I’m not breaking up with you because of one argument,” he says softly. “It’s my fault too. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you and I should’ve replied to your texts and calls. I’m sorry.”

You stay in each others’ arms, shaking and crying together, caressing each other, leaving little pecks and deep sighs until you both calm down. You pull out from the hug and you wipe your tears, he does the same. You stare at each other again, eyes shining from both tears and love.

Sungchan takes your hands in his and looks at you sincerely. “Let’s fix this. I love you.”

You swallow the lump in your throat and nod. “I love you too.”

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

[himexyandere]

Leaves Fall Just Like Us

Pairing: Yandere Male!Spider x Female!Reader 

Word count: 1750

Content Warning(s): Possessive behavior, manipulation, drugging (via venom), nonconsensual groping, slight mindbreak 

A/N: So this is my first post on this separate, yandere-centered blog, I hope y'all like it! 💗 (Also, our ML's name is pronounced like "rain")

You weren’t sure how or even when you managed to get yourself lost in a mansion, which you originally assumed to be abandoned. That assumption of yours was swiftly proven false as you noted that no part of the mansion looked neglected. Aged, yes, but there were hardly any specks of dust to be found.

In contrast to the cleanliness of the place, there were spiderwebs in almost every corner, nook, and cranny that you’d laid your eyes on. The afternoon sun illuminated most of the space, but you could tell that based on the burnt oranges and light pinks decorating the marble floors, the light was fleeting and wouldn’t last for much longer. 

You had to leave—now. 

As soon as that singular thought crossed your mind, you began to backtrack immediately, feet seemingly on autopilot. You didn’t make it three steps back before you ran into something solid, eliciting a surprised-sounding grunt from whatever you’d collided with. Ignoring the fear sirens blaring in your mind, you whipped around without a second thought, only to come face-to-face (or more like face-to-chest) with a human. Or at least, that was what you would’ve liked to say—

Your eyes scaled the figure, just barely flitting to the side as inhuman appendages flooded your peripherals, continuing upward until you were gazing into the eyes—multiple pairs of eyes—of what you assumed to be a man-spider...? You were screaming before you knew it, which caused the humanoid spider’s eyes (all eight of them) to widen as he raised his arms surrenderingly, dropping a book he had been clutching onto in the process. 

“Please, don’t be afraid!” He rushed to calm your fright while attempting to make himself look as disarming as possible; which, of course, wasn’t an easy feat as he was an intimidating height equipped with six pedipalps sprouting from his back and chelicerae framing his face. “I mean you no harm, I swear!” 

“W-who—” Was all you could manage to say in response as your body trembled of its own accord. 

The man-spider gave you a little smile then took a small step back to give you some more space. That didn’t really help, though, because now you could see just how tall he really was. For the most part, he was built like a normal, human man — if it weren’t for the obvious spider-esque parts, of course.

“My name is Raigne,” The man before you canted his head a little to the side. “May I ask what your name is, my guest?” 

“[Your Name]...” You offered him your name without a second thought, leading you to wonder if it was out of politeness(?) or innate fear. Perhaps it was a mixture of both? 

Then, as if you’d only remembered where you were and that you were indeed an active participant in this conversation, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you looked at Raigne. 

“Wait, ‘guest’..?” He’d referred to you as “his guest” mere moments ago, but getting over the bizarreness of the situation was difficult, admittedly.  

“Well, yes, you are in my home. That makes you my guest, doesn’t it?” The smile on Raigne’s face widened a touch. “Though it appears we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot, dear [Your Name]. Tell me, how did you end up here?” 

Honestly, you were just as confused as he was. You remembered traveling with a group of explorers to find abandoned structures for an ongoing research project the lot of you were participating in, only to end up in this unfamiliar place. You were alone and there were no signs of your group. At one point, you tried writing it off as a convoluted dream until you came to realize that pinching yourself did not result in you waking up. 

After racking your brain for a suitable answer to give the man, whose home you’d unknowingly intruded into, you eventually came up with nothing. “I… Don’t remember…” You felt bad, but you didn’t want to lie. 

Fortunately, Raigne was pretty understanding and instead offered you a sympathetic smile. 

“That’s perfectly alright, I’m sure the answer you’re looking for will come with enough time,” He said before bending at the waist to pick up the book he’d dropped. “In the meantime, would you mind coming with me, [Your Name]? Regardless of how you got here, I would still like to treat you as a guest, if you don’t mind.” 

As apprehensive as you were to trust a complete stranger, (never mind the fact that he was, well… A spider) you didn’t see any other choice at the time being. After a few moments, you gave him a nod and a hesitant smile. 

“S-sorry, thank you for having me, Raigne…” 

The smile returned to Raigne’s face, wider than before in a way that seemed unnatural, accentuating his chelicerae. 

“Please, it is my pleasure, [Your Name].”

You’re unsure of how much time you’ve spent with Raigne. Days? Weeks? Months? At this point, it very well could have been years, but you had no way of knowing, nor did you really care to. He provided you with a room, clothes, food, and entertainment — what more could you ask for?

Being with Raigne was a pleasant experience as well, once you overcame your initial fear of him. He was polite and accommodating, on top of understanding. He knew how scary spiders could be, so he took the time to ease your worries by reassuring you with some spider facts. 

“Most male spiders don’t bite, nor do they produce much venom, so you’ll never have to worry about that!” Was what he told you in response to you asking if he was a venomous spider.

His answer brought you a sense of relief, and you noticeably began to relax around him afterward. Not only was Raigne a gracious host, he was also an interesting person overall to conversate with and you found yourself enjoying his company quite a bit. 

As you sat with Raigne in his study enjoying a cup of coffee and chatting idly, your gaze was drawn outside the window behind him as the movement from a falling brown leaf caught your attention. 

“Huh… Looks like it’s gonna be autumn soon.” You remarked as you swirled your finger around the rim of your now-empty cup. 

Raigne stopped talking and followed your gaze out the window, staring in silence as the frequency of falling leaves increased. His odd shift in behavior should’ve been the first sign that Raigne was feeling… Off. 

After your conversation, Raigne quickly retired to his room with the excuse of “feeling a little under the weather”, and shut his door without another word. It couldn’t have been something you said, right? Your conversation up until that point was light, amicable… So what the heck was up with him? You figured you could wait until later to ask him, since now seemed to be a bad time. 

Later that night, after getting ready for bed, you decided to go back to Raigne’s room and check on him. 

“Raigne? Are you in there?” You called out softly after knocking on his door twice. 

No response. 

You pressed your ear to the door, only to realize that it was already open. You pushed your way in, worry clouding your senses as you scanned the dark room. You’d only been inside Raigne’s room a handful of times before this, but for some reason, it was a little more… Foreboding during the night. 

“Raigne..?” You tried calling him again as you stepped fully into the room, looking around the spacious area to find him. 

A soft click sounded from behind you, but it was already too late. 

Before you could even think to turn around, you were wrapped up in a familiar pair of arms and pedipalps, holding you rigidly in place until you felt a pair of fangs sinking into your neck. Then came the injection of an unidentified fluid—venom, you presumed, even in your stunned state. Who else could it be but Raigne clutching your body, back flushed with his chest as he bit you?

“I’m sorry, [Your Name],” Were the first words out of his mouth once he was through with the envenomation, followed along by a low chuckle. “You’re sweet, did you know that? A little too trusting as well… But that’s what I love about you.”

Raigne then nuzzled into the crook of your neck, right next to the spot where he’d sunk his pincers into you not mere seconds ago. 

“W-why, d’you…” Your question was slurred and delirious-sounding, which only made Raigne coo at you in the same affectionate way one would do to a cute, struggling kitten. 

“Hmm? Do you mean to ask why I’m biting you when I told you that male spiders typically don’t?” You couldn’t even nod, but he seemed to know that he’d hit the nail on the head. 

“Well, my dear, I did tell you that most male spiders don’t bite… I never said that I didn’t,” Raigne chuckled again, still nuzzling against you. “Oh, and about the venom… It isn’t lethal, don’t worry. Why in the world would I want a dead bride? I’m a spider, not a specter~” 

As he continued speaking, the frequency of his nuzzling increased, and you still found yourself unable to move a muscle. Your entire body was paralyzed. 

“Did you know? Autumn is the mating season for most spiders,” Raigne’s unoccupied hands began to wonder then, starting from your shoulders and trailing down to your breasts. “I was wondering how I should court you... I truly apologize for not doing it properly, but I really could not help myself!” 

He bent down closer to whisper in your ear, as if his words were much too sacred to be spoken aloud, “You are so alluring… I’m surprised by how uncouth I am behaving because of how much I want you.” 

His words took on a somewhat warbly tone, entering into a raspy, dreamy-like pitch. It didn’t help that he was still groping you, hands eager and thorough in their exploration of your chest. In his mind, he had all the time in the world to do so, after all — and it wasn’t like you would be going anywhere anytime soon, what with his pedipalps still holding you and his venom in your blood.

Raigne fully intended to make you his bride.

Once that thought crossed your hazy mind, the idea of freedom slowly slipped away until you could think of nothing else...

[ghostieyanyan]

If you don’t mind, which yandere twst boys do you see being most likely to exploit a mentally exhausted prefect to kidnap them?

To clarify, I think it can be argued that the prefect would be absolutely done with NRC after six life-or-death situations due to the overblots on top of being forced to adapt to education system of another world and putting up with the quality of students at NRC. You can’t tell me that a school full of villains would treat the only magicless student well. That just screams prime opportunity to manipulate the prefect into leaving NRC to go somewhere “safer” with one of the boys.

Once again, I’m just curious about your thoughts so don’t feel pressured to respond!

yes yes yes!!!

poor perfect tired to the bone from crowly and the other students. if only there was a knight and shining armor that can come and save them.

No longer an accidentally post! But I mean it did help me finish it lol

~Mental-Exhausted!Mc~

Yan!Riddle x mc

Yan!Leona x mc

Yan!Jamil x mc

Yan!Lilia x mc

Warnings: yandere, kidnapping, drug use (shrink potion), abusive behavior, chains, collar, gag, parenthood (gender-neutual), gritting teeth(?) (I know some people hate it so ill put it in here), not a lot of proof-reads,

~~~~~

Riddle

yes, riddle was the first overblot (technically) and after his overblot, he felt awful about how he behaved. he was supposed to look after Heartslaybu but he ended up becoming his mother. he hated himself for that.

So now, not only is he taking better care of his dorm, with the help of his dorm. but whenever he sees you, he tries his best to check up on you.

How are you? Do you need help with any school assignments? etc.

they all had sweet intents at first but over time, you started to look drain.. like the life was sucked right out of you. when he asked ace and deuce, they confirmed that you were just tired of all the overblots and being crowley's lap dog. if only he knew how to help you...

at first he asked, trey and cater about how he should help you. they were mature enough to know, right?

cater, being cater, teased him on "having a crush on the perfect" or how he phrased it "oooohhh you are down bad!! lol" whatever that means...

Trey said that maybe ask the perfect if they do need help. but Riddle knows the perfect, they'll say they're fine even when they're not..

riddle felt lost and swallowed his pride as he dials his mother's number.

his mother was furious with the fact that riddle was facing an issue he cant fix himself but what she said about perfect shocked him.

"well.. maybe if this perfect isn't as perfect as their title, maybe they don't belong in Night Raven College!"

with that... the call ended.

now that he wasn't being held by his mother's strings, he saw red...! no one talks about his perfect like that! but.. she has a point.. (which makes him more frustrated) if perfect is miserable here... maybe they shouldn't be attending NRC. but where would they go...?

when he thought about that, he realized he didn't really want to be away from you... you mean too much to him.

so later that day, he requested you to join him in his room, he need to talk to you. you agreed cause why would you be cautious with someone you trust, plus you were too tired to worry about how strange the request was. he gave you tea and asked if you were okay.. you said yes, just stressed with some classes and drank you tea. it tasted... off.

you feel yourself shrinking.. you were shrinking!

you looked at riddle and he was just smiling at you! he picked you up and placed you into a tea pot.

"it'll be okay, my dear. once i graduate and get us a nice home, we'll live our happy lives away from this stress and... toxic poison. But for now, you'll have to behave. i love you, my dear"

~~~~~

Leona

Whether you noticed him or not, Leona watches you run back and forth, from hallway to hallway. Kinda like a mouse running around for food but also staying hidden. Sometimes your running around helps him sleep or just ease him to a zen.

He'd normally wouldn't bat an eye because you're just a lap dog for that crow. But after time has past. He watched as you get slower, more exhausted. like you're pushing to prove something. It ercked him more than he would like. It hit too close to home for him.

When he finally was able to approach you on the matter, you looked like your soul was taken from you. Something within just snapped. He had enough of this. He made the call and suddenly, savanaclaw students came to your side and dragged you to leona's room. If you try to resist, Leona lucky told them to not hurt you too badly. But accidents happens. With their rough handling, you blacked out.

You wake up with a pretty collar around your neck and a chain attach to it? You look around and this is not your ramshackle room. You tried to sit up for a better look and get quick pulled down by the chain collar. It nearly broke your neck! But Leona would say you're being dramatic.

"Quick moving, im trying to sleep.."

You looked and saw Leona. He was laying on your chest and his legs were holding your legs down. He was like a strange weighted blanket. He wasn't in his school uniform but looks like he's in home attire?

"Where are we, leona..?"

You said, scared cause your literally in the hands of a lion that could kill you really quick..

He ears twitched and he looked up at you, bored. But he let out a smirk.

"Were home~"

It took you a minute to process what he said... home? Apparently your confused was evident on your face and leona let out a long sigh. He moved or above you, pining you down.

"Were at Sunset Savanna palace and WE are both gonna be staying here until I can trust you'll be a good obedient herbivore and stay by my side."

You were lost for words and unconsciously started to struggle under leona. Trying to push him off, kicking your legs, he got really annoyed when you accidentally pinched his tail with the bed and your foot.

His retaliation was to slam you down, knocking the wind out of your lungs. As you were gasping for air, he bit you really hard on your throat. You let out a silent scream. You thought you were going to die. This was your last moment of life.

Leona eventually let's go but quickly replacing his fangs with his hand.

"You WILL be obedient... do I make myself clear.."

That wasn't a question.. it was a demand.

~~~~~

Jamil

Jamil hardly noticed you.. PERIOD.

He's busy not only taking care of scarabia but also their housewarden. While his housewarden takes the credit.. he hated it. And the fact his housewarden is so happy go lucky to him too. Makes his blood boil!!

Jamil truly believed that no one would feel his pain, his struggles.. because everyone sees Kalim "success" before anything!

You and Jamil were in the housewarden meeting, well on the outside of the office during the meeting. Jamil had to be there because Kalim and you were there for Crowley...

You both had a quick moment until you asked him hows he been? He lends his head back against the wall and sighs. You laugh at his actions.

"I get that, hehe"

His eye twitched.

"Do you now..?"

"Heh.. I really do. I'm here for Crowley, even tho he's the Headmage. He's like a spoiled brat with responsibility... and HE knowing more about this world, and the work he does for it, more than I do. But nooo... he still gives it to me!"

Jamil stares at you as you vent about your stress and struggles in NRC. He honestly thought that your life is harder than his! How on the seven do you-?

The doors to the office opens and you and jamil both stand up. The other housewardens walked off and kalim ran to jamil, like a parent picking up their kid in kindergarten.

Jamil sighs, seeing kalim's face makes him exhausting... he quickly looks at you, not turning his head to not make it obvious. You were walking into Crowley's office as he hands you a big stack of papers. He practically saw the light in your eyes fade... he HAS to do something.. but what?

A few days past and he just watched you get more exhausted. The more he watches you the more his feelings for you grows. And the more he watched you get degraded the more he wants to set the world on fire for you..

You couldn't hold a conversation as long as you use to now! What is Crowley making you do?

His hand balled into fist. Then he get an idea.. he's always wanted to do this but never thought about it, there will be come changes to the plan with you in it but it could work!

It was in the evening and he stopped by the Ramshackle dorm. With shaking hands he knocked. He can't believe he's gonna do it.

You answer and he quick took out a cloth from his pocket and covered your mouth. Your struggles were pointless with his strength and your muffled screams wasn't going to be heard by anyone since you practically lived in the middle of nowhere. You went limp and he smile grew.

You woke up, chained, gaged, and blindfolded. You didn't know where you were you were so scared.. but you hear foot steps...

"Good morning, my little desert flower~ im sorry I had to contain you like this, I can't risk anymore seeing you. But once we leave the Isle of Sages, ill let you see."

~~~~~

Lilia

Lilia has been watching you since that first day you came here. How much chaos your presence cause, not including Grims presence, was amazing.

He'd be lying if he said he didn't feel something for you after that first day.

Whenever you're doing anything, he watches. And if hes busy, he has his bats watch you instead. They'll report any and everything about you. Including the dark circles appear under your eyes.

To say he was a little pissed... was an understandment. How dare the Crow hurt someone he cared for..

Lilia had half a mind to just get rid of Crowley with a big display of his remand.. but his kids will be scar so probably not.

He'd would think about if for a bit and told himself, why not just take you to live in Briar Valley? You could live there and he'd support you and care for you. You have a caring personal type with how much you take care of those first years.

You'll make a perfect parent...

Lilia stopped by Ramshackle dorm for a "surprised visit". You thought his strange behavior was just lilia being a strange guy? Meanwhile lilia felt like he was young again when he's with you. He felt shy and anxious. He was all fidgety and not making 100% eye contact with you.

Oh by the seven, you stir something within him and its not unwelcomed.

"Lilia? I don't mean to be rude but.. umm... why are you here..? You kinda came at a bad time.. Crowley has some paper work he wants me to fill out for him.."

Lilia fidgeting stop and if you had his super hear, you'd hear him grit his teeth for a moment.

He flips around suddenly and gets a unsettling smile.

"I came because I just remembered a old story and I wanted to tell someone before it slips my mind!"

You stared at Lilia but nodded for him to continue.

"Do you remember when I told you about the story of the Thorn Fairy? And how she put a curse on this cute little human~?"

With every word he spoke, he got closer to you.. you tried to make some distance but it quickly was put to a halt when lilia grabbed your arm.

"L-ilia.. You're hurting me.."

You tried to pull away but nothing can compete with Lilia's strength.

"Did I also tell you that with skill and focus, a powerful mage, can change the effect of such a powerful spell~?"

You're particularly trembling at this point. He got up really close to you and he shows you a small sewing needle.

"I promise, it won't be too long. Just long enough for everyone to stop looking for you~"

{I didn’t give Lilia an art piece because I drew something similar already}