#and it’s like- that wasn’t the point at all

[thebearer]

love me tomorrow |carmen berzatto x reader| part three

prompt: after time apart, you and carmen meet up for the first time since the fight.

or part three and the final part of the devastation fic (spoiler- the resolution haha). part one and part two can be found here :)

contains: angst. hurt with comfort (finally lol). mentions of mean!carmen, past fighting. past trauma, family trauma. carmen's been to therapy (yay). language. mom!reader x dad!carmen. fluff at the end, i had to make it a little funny and end on a light note bc it felt so heavy lol. word count- 4.7k+

“He’s here,” Sugar announced, the chime of a doorbell following nearly cinematically. 

Your shoulders tightened, stomach twisting with an ache of nerves you tried to swallow. You were so nervous- why were you so nervous? He’d fucked up, not you. He was here to grovel and beg for forgiveness, not you. Still, you felt your hairline prick with heat, hands clammy when you heard the door opening downstairs. 

“Okay,” You tried to steady your voice, exhaling slowly out of your nose. “I’m almost done.” 

Sugar nodded, not leaving, keeping her post behind you. “You know you don’t have to do this.” Sugar looked at you through the mirror, arms folded over her chest, watching you carefully for a sign- anything that would give her a red flag, make her call this off. 

“I know,” You swallowed your buzzing nerves, jittery in the pit of your belly. 

“I’ll tell him to go away. You give me the word, and I’ll kick him out.” Sugar stood, pushing off the door frame and walking towards you. “Seriously. One wrong word, wrong look, anything, he’s gone. Say the word.” 

You gave a small smile. “I think I’ll be alright, but thank you.” You muttered, looking down at your bare ring finger. You still found yourself reaching for your ring, heart spiking in a panic when you’d see it was gone, only to sink when you remembered why- why you left it. 

“I feel like it’s time.” You admitted, trying to convince yourself more than Natalie. You were still unsure, so jarred and hurt by the last time you’d spoken to Carmen. The things he’d said, how he’d hurt you. “I think we have to figure something out.”

“You don’t have to do anything.” Sugar gave you a pointed look. “Trust me, if this was me, Pete would never live that down- never. He’d be at my mercy for the rest of his life, if I even let him back into it.” 

You knew Natalie wasn’t joking, that she would do just as she said, but that was also easy for her to say; when Pete could not fathom ever thinking those things about her, let alone saying them to her. Sometimes you wished Carmen could be softer, a little more like Pete in that way. 

“He’s been going to therapy,” Richie’s voice played in your mind. “He’s, uh, he’s doin’ good. Tryna get better for you, for both of you. He loves you, you know that, sweetheart. He’s just… He’s fucked up, y’know? We all are a little, but he’s workin’ on it.” 

You hoped that was true. For your marriage, for your baby. Sugar and Pete had been taking Teddy to see Carmen. You couldn't bring yourself to see him yet, but depriving him of Teddy felt cruel and inhumane. 

Downstairs, you could hear her gurgling, Carmen’s soft tone greeting her in hushed excitement. It soothed you, even for just a moment, it felt familiar- felt like home. What you’d missed so badly, what you longed for to have again. 

“Uncle Carm, why haven’t you been staying here too?” MJ’s tiny squeak of a voice rang up the stairs, greeting you as you quietly crept down them. 

“MJ,” Pete muttered, shaking his head gently. “C’mon, bud, you know Uncle Carm’s been on a business trip.” 

“Right, yeah.” Carmen nodded, his hand patting Teddy’s back gently, soothing her and him. Just feeling the weight of her back on his chest, it put him at ease. She was bigger now, longer than he remembered, but he tried not to think about that, nose pressing into her soft tufts of hair. 

MJ saw you first, his face falling into a pout. “Aw, does that mean you’re going home?” He whined, looking at you then back at Carmen. “Are you takin’ Anchovy and Teddy?” 

Anchovy skittered towards you, running up the stairs at the mention of his name. He’d been a trooper with MJ and Maggie, both kids enamored with the cat who was less than impressed with them. 

Carmen stiffened at the sight of you, spine rigid, heart skipping and falling in his chest. There was a pause of awkward uncertainty, neither of you sure what to say. “If you’re good,” Sugar stepped in. “Maybe your aunt and uncle will let you play with them a little longer while they go out.” She looked at you, shrugging gently at the suggestion. 

You looked at Carmen, eyes meeting him in a brief, unsure gaze, before nodding. “Yeah, that would be- that would be great, MJ.” You gave a soft smile to the boy. 

Carmen stood, passing Teddy off to Sugar with a quiet muttering of thanks. He met you in the doorway, hand reaching for yours, but stopping himself, pulling back hesitantly. Instead, he held the door open, letting you pass by him first. 

The car smelled like a mix of cleaning supply, masked with car fresheners he’d stuck in the vents. He’d been smoking, more than usual, you were sure of it. He’d gotten down to one a day after Teddy was born, paranoid that he’d give her asthma or a rash or something worse. 

“Um,” Carmen hesitated, his voice shaking in a way that he hadn’t since your first date. “I was… I was thinkin’ we could go somewhere t-to talk?” Carmen’s gaze met yours, lips pressing together, swallowing around the lump in his throat. 

You nodded, your hands clasped in your lap, both of you too rigid, too uncomfortable. “Yeah, that’s a good idea.” You looked down at your nails. “We could go get coffee? Go to the one by the restaurant.” 

Carmen’s heart burned with a dull ache. The coffee shop a block from The Bear had been a staple in your relationship. When you’d first moved in together, to the shitty downtown apartment to be closer to the restaurant, Carmen would go every Sunday. Sometimes he’d pick up, other times you’d come with him, sit in the corner seat side by side in a booth- like the couples you used to roll your eyes at, lovesick. 

Someone was already sitting in that booth when you got there, so you settled for a small two seater in the back, secluded and empty. Carmen brought you your coffee without asking, he knew the order by heart now, etched into his mind permanently. 

“Thank you,” You muttered, accepting the paper cup, your eyes not meeting his, but your hands brushing. You didn’t pull away this time. 

Carmen sat across from you, a dread filled silence falling thick between the two of you. His knee bouncing under the table. “I, uh, I wanna talk first if-if that’s good with you.” Carmen’s eyes lifted under his ball cap, pulled low on his head, curls peaking out. 

You nodded, twisting the paper cup around on the table, too nervous to drink it. Carmen took a breath, trying to calm his racing mind. “Take a deep breath before you start. It’s ok to take a second to get your words in order, Carmen. Collect your thoughts.” Dr. Mullins’ words rang through his head. 

“I wanna start by saying that I’m sorry.” Carmen looked at you when he said it, eyes rounding in a pathetically sweet way. “I-I’m sorry and I…I didn’t mean anything I said. I would never- It wasn’t you.” 

You looked down at the table, the familiar heat burning in your nose and throat, a threat of tears already. “Hey,” Carmen said firmly, leaning forward. “C’mon, look at me. Please?” You look at him hesitantly, jaw clenching, trying to keep yourself from crying. 

Carmen held your gaze, his lips pressing together in a tight line to keep his own emotions in. “It wasn’t you.” His gaze was intense but soft all at once, holding yours. “It… It was all me. All of it. I-I was overwhelmed, I was stressed, I fucked up, a-and-” Carmen’s voice cracked, breaking at the end, his hand running over his face to try and calm himself. 

You felt your own eyes well with tears, chin ducking closer into yourself, leaning towards him. You wanted to reach out, to grab his hand that rested on the table, squeeze it in comfort like you always did. Instead, you looked at him, waiting for him to continue. 

“And I shouldn’t have said any of that shit because-because none of it was true.” Carmen continued, his voice strained. 

“So why’d you say it then?” You surprised yourself with the firmness in your tone, edging on a snap. 

Carmen blinked, surprised but not entirely shocked. His knee bounced faster and faster under the table. He took a second, holding his breath before exhaling, trying to keep the growing tightness in his chest to a minimum. 

“I was stressed. I was tired. I-I was overwhelmed, and… and I was an asshole.” Carmen admitted, but you still didn’t seem convinced. You knew him better than anyone, better than Dr. Mullins, better than even Fak or Richie or Sugar. 

“I… I was hurting. I was hurting an-and I was so fuckin’ angry. I don’t-I don’t even know why I was so angry.” Carmen admitted, nodding slowly, eyes flickering from your gaze to his hands nervously. “I just… I think I wanted someone to hurt like I was hurting. I just, I don’t know, I wanted someone else to feel like I was, an-and I should have- it was fuckin’ stupid, an-and selfish, and…” 

Your eyes were glassy with tears you tried to hide, blinking a tear that fell down your cheek, wiping it quickly. Carmen’s chest ached, burned with hurt at the sight of you. 

“And I’ve never regretted anything more in my life.” He looked at you sincerely. “I-I-I never said anything more untrue and fuckin’ stupid in my life.” 

“You…” You took a breath, your voice shaking with emotions. “You really hurt my feelings, Carmen.” You admitted looking at him. He nodded, jaw flexing, neck blossoming with splotches of emotion. 

“I just don’t really understand how-how you didn’t mean to say those things. I mean, clearly you-you’ve thought that before.” Your voice lifted higher and higher, climbing with a cry that threatened to break. “I know you’re saying you didn’t mean those things, and I get that, but my problem is you’ve thought them before-” 

“-No, no, I swear-” 

“-You have, Carmen. Clearly you have. You wouldn’t- You didn’t just come up with that shit out of nowhere.” Your voice was beginning to climb, trying to level it out in the cafe, keeping your composure. You took a breath, pinching the bridge of your nose, pad of your thumb swiping the corner of your eye to catch a stray tear. “Just… Just don’t lie to me.” 

Carmen pressed his hands together, trying hard to remember his breathing while his mind was racing. Sugar was right, it was uncomfortable, worse than he could have imagined. 

“You’re right,” Carmen admitted with a nod. There was no point in lying, not to you, you always knew better, knew him better. “I-I did, but not-not like that. Not,” Carmen’s breath hitched, chest tight with a wave of anxiety. 

“You know wh-when I was at the restaurant, and I… I would be ready to rip my fuckin’ hair out. Everything was just goin’ to shit, o-or we’d realize there was a critic on the books, or I’d forgot to order some shit, I’d be going fuckin’ crazy, ya know?” Carmen rambled, words spilling out in tumbles of jumbled truth.

 “I’d go to my office for a second, just to-just to take a fuckin’ breath, and… and I’d check my phone and I’d see a text from you.” His heart swelled at the memory. You’d text him updates through the day, knowing he’d seen him when he could. Baby Teddy in her crib, Anchovy in the bassinet, her outfit for the day, nap time- all the moments he missed at work because you wanted him to see. You had considered him. Carmen missed it more than words could describe the past days, checking his phone out of habit, hoping to see a little OOTD with a smiley face and a wrinkly baby Teddy attached- instead, he saw nothing. 

“I’d just… I don’t know. I was sittin’ there, just fuckin’ stressed o-or angry, and then I’d see that and I-I’d feel,” Carmen paused. Gather your thoughts, gather your thoughts. 

“I felt… I just felt weird about it?” Carmen’s brows pinched together, looking at you for help, unsure. Your face fell, his heart lurching with fear. 

“No, no, no, no. Not-Not like that. I- fuck, that’s not what- I love the pictures. Love them. I-I- They’re the only things that get me through the day, it-it’s not that-” Carmen stuttered out, head dropping into his hands in defeat. Way to go, Berzatto. 

“Felt weird?” You repeated, calm, your way of soothing him. Keeping your voice even, steady without any tones he could read into and spiral. It was second nature at this point. “Weird how?” 

“It made me feel like… like I was, I was missin’ out.” Carmen admitted, eyes shining bright and a little wide like they always did when he’d finally admit something. Wide eyed, scared, almost, like he shouldn’t have told the truth. 

“I felt like, I’m at work, an-and you were at home with Teddy, and…and I felt like I was bein’ a shitty dad. Like I was there too much, an-and I’d miss out on her, and then I’d miss you, I’d just…” Carmen threw his hands out lightly, cheeks puffing with a slow, shaky exhale. 

“I was jealous, maybe? Ma-Maybe that’s the word, but I just… I didn’t want to be there, and I know,” He lifted his voice before you could begin to speak. “I know I’m th-the boss, and-and I get that. And it’s not- it’s not your fault. It’s not your fault you’re home- I’m glad you’re home, I am, because you’re doin’ so much. You are, an-and I know that, I know. You’re-You’re doin’ the most important job in the fuckin’ world, I mean, you’re keepin’ ou-our baby alive.” 

Carmen laughed humorlessly, a scoff that turned into a sniffle, shaking his head. You sat quietly, listening to his words, taking them in with a slow nod. Carmen looked at you, trying to read you, taking in your expressions. Your shoulders less tense, tired, face neutral but he saw the way your lips twitched, holding back a cry. 

“Just sometimes when-when I’d be in the shit, I’d just want to be home.” Carmen admitted. “I’d want to be home, but… but I knew I couldn’t be. I knew I had to-to take care of things, take care of you an-and Teddy, and I don’t- fuck, I don’t mean it like a bad thing. I like doing it, I mean obviously I fuckin’ do, it’s just- it-it’s a lot sometimes and I get-” 

“-Carm,” You cut off his ramblings, reaching across the table, your hand sliding over the top of his, squeezing it gently. 

Carmen thought his lungs might have given out, his heart too, looking down at your hand in awe. Bolts of electricity shot through his body, tingling at his skin that touched yours with excitement. He’d missed this, missed your touch, missed you. It felt surreal, sitting here, feeling you, seeing you. 

“I’m sorry.” Carmen whispered, turning his hand to hold yours. Hands clammy, fingernails bitten to the quick. His fingers intertwined in yours, holding your hand so tightly your fingers tingles. He held your hand like he was scared to let go, like if he did he might never get to hold your hand again. 

“I’m sorry. It-It wasn’t fair. It..It’s not fair.” Carmen squeezed your hand, shaking his head lightly. “You didn’t… I don’t know how to say how much you mean to me.” Carmen looked at you, eyes glassy, red rimmed with tears that gathered at his water line. 

“I, uh, I-I tried to- Well, Richie’s thera- my therapist told me to, uh, to try an-and write out what I wanted to say to you. Take time and reflect and give it to you, but I, uh, I was up all night because I kept starting over.” Carmen rambled on. 

“Everything I was tryna write it just… it didn’t feel like enough. It didn’t do you justice.” Carmen looked up at you, thumb brushing over your knuckle gently. “I felt like it just wasn’t enough. They’re aren’t any words to describe you. To…To describe what you mean to me, an-and how much I love you.” 

You swallowed back a sob, looking into his eyes. An intensity you hadn’t seen since he said his vows, maybe more now. “I-I love you so much, and… and I don’t deserve you. I don’t fucking deserve you.” Carmen choked out, a sob slipping out between his confessions. 

“I-I’m a fuckin’ loser, an-and a psycho, and I-I’m a shitty dad and husband…And I-I’m fucked up, and you-you chose to love me anyways. An-And to marry me, and have a kid with me- start a family with me. And what do I do? I fuck it up, and I don’t deserve you. I never have, an-and I never will.” Carmen rambled, tears sliding down his cheeks freely, leaning towards you, shoulders stuttering with a choking of tears.

“Don’t say that.” You sniffle, shaking your head. “Don’t say that-” 

“-No, it’s true, it’s fuckin’ true-” 

“-No, it isn’t. Carmen, don’t say that.” You reach your free hand out, cupping his cheek across the table, thumb swiping over his cheek, wiping away a stray tear. You held him, feeling the heat in his cheeks, he turned into your touch, breath slowing. 

“You’re not a loser. You’re not a psycho. You’re not a bad dad, or-or a bad husband either.” You leaned forwards, closing in the gap between the two of you, the edge of the table digging into your stomach. “You made a mistake-” 

“-No, that’s-that’s- it’s worse than that. It’s so much fuckin’ worse than that. Don’t-” 

“-You made a mistake.” You said, firmer this time, cradling his cheek in your hand. 

Carmen took a breath, squeezing your hand in his, sniffing deep to keep his tears in. “I don’t… I don’t want to be like my parents.” He whispered, eyes rounding in a scared way. “I-I don’t want to fuck up you o-or Teddy or… I just don’t wanna end up like them. I wanna be different.” 

“You’re not gonna end up like them.” You shook your head softly. 

“No, I-I was actin’ just like them.” Carmen muttered. “Yellin’ at you a-and actin’ like a complete fuckin’ lunatic. Just like them, an-and I don’t wanna live like that.” 

“You won’t.” You reassured him gently, whispering across the table. He shook his head in protest. “Carm, listen to me. You’re… You’re not like them, ok?” 

You could feel Carmen start to shake, a trembling through his system that was a tell-tale sign of a panic attack. Your eyes scanned over the restaurant, filling up with the mid-afternoon rush. “Come on,” You nodded towards the door, pushing your chair back, hand still in his. “Let’s get some air.” 

Carmen didn’t argue, he wouldn’t- couldn’t even if he wanted to. Your hand in his, squeezing his gently, pulling him towards the car. Carmen pulled the keys out with shaky hands, unlocking the door. He reached for the passenger door, but you pulled the back door open instead, surprising him when you slipped in the backseat, nodding at him to follow you. You squeezed into the middle, Teddy’s car seat pressed to your back, Carmen pressed into your side, shutting the door.

“You’re not like them.” You broke the silence, turning yourself towards him. “You’re not.” 

Carmen leaned his head back against the seat, tears leaking out of his eyes. “You-You don’t have to do this, say that.” He shook his head. “I don’t deserve it.” 

“Carmen, you’re not like your parents.” You reached for his hand again. “The fact that you’re scared to be like them, scared and trying to stop it, that shows me you’re not like them.” 

Carmen’s chest stuttered, a hissing of a cry leaving his lungs. “You made a mistake.” You swallowed, your own heart aching. “But… But that doesn’t mean you’re as a whole a bad person. It just means you made a mistake, and if you learn from it and become better, then it’s ok. It’s a lesson learned.” 

Carmen nodded, eyes squeezing shut, tight like he was trying to keep everything in. “I just…I really fucking miss you.” Carmen admitted through a wobbly voice, eyes still closed. “I-I really miss you, and… and I want you to come home.” 

You shook your head, tears sliding down your cheeks. “I miss you too.” You whispered, squeezing his hand. “I missed you so much.” 

Carmen turned, arms wrapping around your body, pulling you tightly into him. His nose pressed into the top of your head, breathing in detergent that didn’t smell like what you used at home, shampoo, too. You held onto him, fingers digging into his shoulders, pushing him further and further into you until it felt like your bodies were meshing together, fusing into one. 

Whispered apologies shared through teary, wet sniffles filled the space. Carmen’s nose rubbing against yours, hesitating before he kissed you. You pulled him into you, finally soothing the aching longing that had built in your chest, your lips catching his, the two of you staying unmoving, wanting to feel the other. Clinging to each other, hands grabbing, lips parting, Carmen pressing you against the car seat, hand cradled on the back of your head. 

“I-I understand if you still don’t wanna come home.” Carmen muttered, breath hot over your cheek, nose rubbing against your skin. “But I really fuckin’ miss you.” 

“I miss you too.” You muttered, lips buzzing against his neck, tears hot and trickling onto the collar of his t-shirt. “I-I want to come home.” 

“A-Are you sure?” Carmen’s eyes lit up with hope, though he tried to hide it, the way he always did; too scared to let him get too excited, too hopeful because he always feared it would end. 

“Yeah,” You whispered, nodding gently, balling the back of his shirt between your fingers. 

“Yeah?” Carmen repeated, lips pressing together to keep his cry in, a different one this time. One of relief. For the first time in days, he felt like he could breathe, like his lungs weren’t constricting and on the brink of collapse. His mind didn’t race and cloud with delirious confusion. No, here and now, holding you, Carmen had clarity. 

The both of you stayed in the back of the car, holding the other, chest to chest until your heartbeat became the same, steady rhythm, matching the others. 

Carmen held your hand on the drive back, pressing wet kisses to your knuckles, trying to wipe his eyes of any tears. “Can’t let Pete see me cryin’ again.” He muttered. “That was a new fuckin’ low.” You had giggled softly, enough to have his heart fluttering. He’d never admit it out loud, not now, anyways, that he was thankful for Pete. How he’d taken care of you, of Teddy, of Anchovy. He’d stuck up for you, even if it was against Carmen, and that meant the world to Carmen. 

Pulling into Sugar and Pete’s house, Carmen shoved the gear shift into park, his hand still in yours, both of you sitting in each other's company for a minute longer. Just a little bit longer the two of you, before you had to face the others. 

“Oh, uh, one more thing.” Carmen’s thumb ran over your knuckles before he let go of your hand for a moment, raising up in the seat to dig into the front pocket of his jeans. 

“I, uh, I brought your rings back.” Carmen’s voice dropped, a shake in his words that matched the shake in his hands, pinching your wedding band and ring in between his fingers. 

You swallowed at the sight, Carmen holding the ring between his fingers, it took you back to years before when he’d proposed. Nearly as nervous as he was now, just as shaky, but for a different reason. 

“You don’t have to put them on or anything. I don’t- I’m not tryna make you do that, it’s your choice, obviously. I just,” Carmen took a breath, looking at you. “I thought you might want them back.” 

You paused for a moment, looking at the rings, the sting of the last time you saw them still burning and aching in your chest, but this time, it wasn’t as crushing. It was more of a dull ache, a tiredness that came with it instead of devastation. 

Reaching out, your fingertips tickled his palms, gathering the two rings in your hand. You looked at them, turning them over in your hands. “Thank you,” You mumbled, looking up at Carmen. He swallowed, giving a nod, trying to mask the hurt that you hadn’t put them back on- you didn’t miss it. 

“Do-” Your voice caught in your throat. “Will you put them back on?” You blinked at him, wide eyed, asking so sweet, Carmen thought his heart might give out entirely. 

You held the rings out towards him. “Will you put them back on for me? Please?” 

Carmen didn’t deserve you. The notion rang loud over and over in his head again, throat burning, welling up with tears. He didn’t deserve you. You were too good, too fuckin’ good for him. 

His hands trembled, holding yours and slipping the rings back onto your ring finger, back to their rightful place. Carmen twisted them, a deep breath of a sob that was threatening to break filling the space. His fingers intertwined with yours, free hand cupping your jaw, pulling you into a kiss over the console. 

Sugar looked out the window, peeking through the blinds. “What’re they doin’ out there?” Pete whispered behind her, like the two of you might hear them. “Do they look happy? Sad? You don’t think it went bad, do you? I mean, Carmen can be-” 

“-Pete,” Sugar snapped with a soft huff. “Look for yourself.” She moved, biting back a small grin. 

Pete slid in her place, pushing the blinds apart, sneakily looking out the side of them. He could see the two of you in the car, Carmen’s hands on the back of your head, holding you while you leaned across the console in a deep, passionate kiss. 

“Well, lookie there.” Pete grinned, letting the blinds fall. “I guess there was a happy ending after all.” 

Sugar rolled her eyes, lips twitching in a small smile. “He still has a lot to make up for. I hope she didn’t let him off the hook too easily.” She grumbled, crossing her arms. “But I am glad they made up. I would kill Carmen if he fucked things up with my favorite sister-in-law.” 

Pete let out a small laugh, looking out the window again. “The kids are gonna miss Teddy and Anchovy when they go back. MJ’s gonna be devastated they’re taking them.” Pete muttered, Sugar nodded. 

Pete paused for a moment, looking behind him with a soft frown. “Y’know, this is gonna sound crazy, Nat, but I’ll be kinda glad when Anchovy is gone.” Pete admitted in a hushed tone, like Anchovy might hear him. 

Sugar snorted lightly. “Yeah. Except MJ and Maggie will be begging for a cat of their own. They’ve already started and I told them-” 

“-No, I mean,” Pete turned, watching the orange cat slink around at the top of the stairs, Anchovy glaring down at Pete before disappearing to the guest room. “I don’t think that cat likes me.”

[lowkeyren]

drunk words, sober thoughts!

in which — “taking your boss home after he gets drunk for the nth time this week” wasn’t in your job description; but as emotions run high, would you still choose to resist his advances?

pairing — aventurine x gn!reader

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆  — wc: 2.1k, consumption of alcohol (aven is drunk), he’s so down bad for u its not even funny anymore, topaz + jade cameo ;) reblogs w comments are appreciated! please enjoy <3

the persistent ringing of your phone jolts you awake, pulling you from the depths of sleep. groggily, you reach out, fingertips searching for the source of the disturbance amidst the darkness of the room.

with a grunt of frustration, you finally locate your phone on the bedside table. your eyes squint against the harsh glow of the screen, revealing topaz's name flashing insistently.

"hello..?" you answered, your voice thick with drowsiness. 

"hey friend, sorry to wake you." topaz said, quickly getting to the point, "aventurine's getting wasted at the tavern here. can you come get him?" 

you rub your eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. "aren’t you at the tavern too? why can't you do it instead..." you don't mean to sound rude, but anyone's mood would sour if they were woken up in the middle of their slumber, right? 

(and please just give me one night of peace, you want to add on)

but working as aventurine's secretary means there's barely ever any peace; you are constantly living a chaotic life, exhausted by his endless and, even more annoyingly, unpredictable shenanigans. maybe you shouldn’t have taken the position, but the pay and the view of his infuriatingly handsome face makes it all worthwhile.

topaz sighs. "trust me, i tried. but his stubborn ass is refusing to leave, i can't get through to him no matter what." 

in the background, you hear your boss call out to you, “mmmh [name]... c'meeere” his words slurred from the effects of alcohol. it's clear he's drunk; way too drunk actually. is he that far gone? you aren’t even there. 

it wasn't the first time he’s gotten this drunk, in fact he’s been drinking every other day lately —much to your concern. "alright, i'll be there soon." you reply, fully aware that his drunken antics would inevitably lead to a splitting headache.

"thanks. he's in pretty bad shape." topaz adds just as another slurred whine of your name cuts through the background. “...ugh, and please come quick” she hangs up before you can respond. you sigh again, throwing off the covers, and quickly dressing yourself before making your way to the tavern.

it looks like your night’s just getting started, because this is just another reminder of how taxing it is to clean up after your endearingly troublesome boss. 

as you step through the entrance of the tavern, your eyes scan the crowded space until they land on aventurine. he’s slumped over the counter, his head resting on his folded arms, and an array of empty glasses scattered around him. you notice topaz isn't beside him, and just as you reach for your phone, a notification pops up from her. 

"jade called, i have to go." fantastic, now you're stuck playing babysitter to your incredibly drunk boss all on your own. isn’t this just adding insult to injury..? you put your phone down, and make your way over to the counter, mentally bracing yourself for what’s to come. 

aventurine, whose cheeks are flushing from too many glasses of ale, immediately perks up when he catches sight of you. his posture shifts slightly, a clumsy attempt to straighten up. despite his dishevelled appearance and obvious inebriation, a sloppy grin spreads across his face; his usually sharp eyes now hazy, but his gaze remains unwavering.

“sir, it's time to go home. you’ve had enough for tonight.” you say firmly, your expression deadpan, the exhaustion in your system weighing heavily on you. “sweetheart... *hic* i missed youuuu," he slurs, words drawn out and muddled, the alcohol coating his tongue with each syllable. 

aventurine’s bleary eyes struggling to focus as they fix themselves on you, it’s evident he has it much worse tonight.  “mmh sweetheart, have i ever told you just how gorgeous you are?" his words linger in the air; though your expression remains indifferent, you can feel a subtle heat rising up your neck.

you hate how he has this effect on you, it shouldn't stir such feelings, especially given his role as your boss. though no matter the amount of times he effortlessly (re: shamelessly) slips endearments into your conversations, you can still sense the warmth bubbling up inside you —much to your dismay.

“yes sir, for the fourth time this week. and don’t try to distract me—” before you can finish, aventurine stumbles forward and envelops you in a tight embrace, the overpowering smell of alcohol engulfing your senses. his lips inches away from your ear, the proximity borders on suffocating in its allure; he rests his chin on your shoulder, his breath hot against your neck, stirring a rush of conflicting emotions within you.

you hadn’t had anything to drink tonight, so why are you feeling hazy, your head swirling with jumbled-up thoughts, and your body unexpectedly warming up? you fight to maintain your composure as aventurine holds you close, his grip unyielding.

“ahem… sir please release me immediately. ” you manage to say, your voice trembling slightly, cringing at your own words as it didn’t come out as stern as you had hoped.

aventurine seems to hesitate for a moment, his grip loosening ever so slightly, but he doesn't let go completely. “no… no sir, i’m not your sir” he mumbles, his words muffled against your shoulder.

two weeks ago, you would've redirected his attention firmly, steering clear of any personal entanglements that could complicate your working relationship. two weeks ago, you would’ve dismissed any hint of intimacy, and suppressed the flicker of attraction beneath layers of practicality and duty. 

now, however, your resolve falters as you stand enveloped in his embrace. the logical arguments that once guided your actions seem distant and irrelevant compared to the raw, magnetic pull of his presence.

in the face of his vulnerability, your defenses too crumble, leaving you grappling with conflicting impulses and unspoken desires —so you decide to indulge just this once.

“aventurine. there, happy?” you can feel his heart racing against yours, a syncopated rhythm that mirrors the tangle of emotions swirling within you. the line between professionalism and lovers has always been blurred between you. but now as his arms encircle you and his warmth seeps into your skin, it seems near impossible to define.

perhaps, all along, it was his intention for that line to fade away, to be erased completely.

he doesn’t respond with words, but instead holds you tighter, as if seeking solace in your presence. his name escapes your lips in a soft murmur, “kakavasha…?” the sound of your voice rings in his ear, lingering in the air like a whispered prayer.

he seems to delight in the way you utter his name, evident by how he savours each syllable like a rare delicacy.  you take his silence as your cue to continue, clearing your throat, “unfortunately the chauffeur is unable to make it at this hour, so i will—”

he cuts you off by releasing you from his grasp, yet keeps you ensconced in his arms, ensuring you face him directly. in the dim light, you finally get to see his flawless features up close for the first time tonight.

“i love you.” his words hang in the air, leaving you momentarily speechless. 

he stares into your eyes, a whirlwind of emotions surge within you. caught off guard, you let out a chuckle, unsure if his words are genuine or if he’s merely attempting to charm his way out of a situation again. 

“i bet you tell everyone that.” you shoot him an unimpressed look.

he pauses for a moment, his hands finding a comfortable place on your back before pulling you closer to him.  “i do.” he nods in confirmation, his gaze steady on yours. 

“i tell everyone that i love you.”

your heart skips a beat, actually no, you think you stopped breathing the moment those words left his mouth. does he know how much he tugs at your heartstrings? though you can’t help but wonder if he'll regret everything when he sobers up tomorrow. 

“aventurine, you’re drunk.” you say softly as you divert your gaze. "yes, and you’re everything i’ve ever wanted." he moves his free hand up to gently cup your cheek, eagerly waiting for the moment the room stops spinning so he can focus on your face again.

the world around you collapses the instant your eyes meet him again, it feels like he's baring his soul to you, grounding you with his touch, his presence. you gently place your hand over his that rests on your cheek, your voice barely above a whisper. "let's get you home first, and we can talk about this when you're sober."

“alright sweetheart, whatever you say...” he drawls out with a tipsy cadence, punctuated by his tightening hold on your back. you huff out in feign annoyance before grabbing his hand and dragging him out the tavern.

you navigate through the night with a very drunk aventurine leaning heavily against your side, his arm draped around your shoulder for support. “ugh you’re impossible when you’re drunk…” you chide with a playful roll of your eyes, half-supporting, and half-dragging him along. “please be reminded to give me a raise when this is over.”

aventurine’s occasional laughter punctuates through the quiet night, drawing the attention of a few late-night pedestrians who smile knowingly at the scene. and you swear you caught a glimpse of silver-white hair as you pass by an alley, maybe the lack of sleep is really taking a toll on you.

“you’re lucky you have a pretty face to make up for all this mess you’re dragging me through.” you remark subconsciously, only to be interrupted by him abruptly stopping in his tracks. he looks at you with a sheepish grin, cheeks still flushed.

“…you think i'm pretty?” 

you jab at him, maybe you should give him a few more while you have the chance. after all, he probably won't remember any of this tomorrow, right?

okay maybe aventurine wasn’t lying when he said he tells everyone that he loves you. (and apparently “everyone” includes his coworkers too)

the constant dinging of your phone makes you seriously consider launching it out the nearest window. you open the group chat and stare incredulously at the avalanche of texts flooding your screen.

[topaz sent an attachment]

seems like you weren’t hallucinating last night, topaz really was there —and she managed to snap a picture of you and aventurine.

“topaz?? i thought you had an emergency with jade”

“nah lol, jade was in on it”

“hope you had a great night dear, and make sure to let us know what happened~”

“you guys are menaces i swear!!!!”

before you can gather your thoughts, a pair of familiar arms wrap around your waist from behind, pulling you gently against his solid chest. you tense up, part of you wanting to melt into his hold; and despite your better judgement, you instinctively lean into him.

"so, what's the deal with you getting plastered every night?" you tease, momentarily forgetting about the texts as you turn your focus to aventurine.

“what else other than drowning out my sorrows over you, sweetheart.” he quips, sneaking a quick peck on your cheek, which you dodge just in time. 

“seriously? all those drinks were because you thought i wasn't into you?"

“hmm, yeah pretty much so.” he admits, truly his shamelessness knows no bounds.

“then i guess it’s about time you learn how to handle your losses.” you jest, nudging him as he raises an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eye. “there’s no need. i'll still tell you that i love you tomorrow, the day after, and every day after that until you finally let yourself believe it." 

aventurine will wait for the day you accept him, more than just your boss; he will wait for the day you whisper those three words, not just into his ear, but into the very depths of his heart. he will be there, patiently, until the day your soul finally speaks the truth that his heart has always known.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ 

masterlist

©lowkeyren 2024 only on tumblr. please do not plagiarize, translate, repost on other platforms, or feed my works into ai.

[coldfanbou]

Finding The Right One

Natty and Julie are hot...that's all I really have to say besides a threesome with them being the dream.

Length 2.4K

Julie X Natty X Mreader

“Who do you want to pick up tonight? The last one was kind of a disappointment.” Julie asked as she fixed her bangs, adjusting the tiny hairs to look perfect. 

“I know, I thought he was going to be perfect, but everything…he just was not it,” Natty responded, zipping up her top. She looked in the mirror and pulled it down; she wanted to have her cleavage look nice. “What if we got a loser?”

Julie couldn’t help but smile. “A loser?” She repeated as if Natty had gone crazy. “Really?”

“Yeah, why not? It couldn’t go worse than the last guy.” Natty pauses, trying to recall the man’s name. “What was his name?”

“I don’t know, Aaron or something? It had an A in it.” Julie stares into the mirror and pouts; a smile grows as she looks at her outfit. “I’m ready when you are.”

Natty looked at her reflection. Satisfied with how she looked, she turned to her friend. “I’m good; let’s head out.” With that, the women headed out to a club they frequented. They sat by the bar, watching men come and go, accepting any drinks they were bought while trying to find the right man.

You had been inside the club for some time; your friends dragged you out but quickly abandoned you. You sat in a booth, sipping on your drink as you watched everyone in the club enjoy themselves. This wasn’t your kind of scene; you didn’t like it.

“What about him?” Julie asks, pointing to where you were sitting. “He’s all by himself. In a place like this? Definitely a loser.”

Natty leans forward, searching for you and needing a little help. “He doesn’t look too bad.” A smirk crept across Natty’s face. She turned to Julie, “Yeah, let’s go.” The women place their half-finished drinks at the bar and walk across the room; many eyes follow them, but they pay them no mind. They take a seat in your booth, one woman on either side of you. “Hey, what are you doing all by yourself? Shouldn’t a guy like you be dancing?” Natty leans forward as she asks the question, her tits nearly spilling out. You can’t help but glance at them before your eyes return to meet Natty’s. She flashes you a quick smile.

“This isn’t really my kind of place. I got dragged out here by friends. I think I’m just going to leave.”

Julie licked her lips upon hearing that. “Aww, that’s too bad.” Julie hooks her arm around yours. “You look just like our type. Can’t you join us for one dance?”

“Leave him alone, Julie,” Natty says, tapping your tapping. “If this isn’t your kind of place, how about we go somewhere else?” Her fingers move along your arm as she waits for your response.

You had to admit, having two beautiful women on you made you feel pretty good about yourself. “Where did you have in mind?” You say, trying to hide a smile.

“Our place,” Julie whispered into your ear. “We can have a lot of fun there.” She said, placing her hand on your thigh. “You won’t disappoint us, right?” Julie tilted her head, a smile still plastered on her face. You nod your head and tell her you won’t. “Then let’s head out.” The women get out of the booth and hook their arms around yours as they walk you out of the club, grab a taxi, and head to their home. Both women place a hand on your thigh, whispering in your ear. “Don’t think poorly of us. We just like to play.” Julie said as she squeezed your thigh.

“We’ll have a lot of fun. Maybe we can show your friends what they missed out on.” Natty whispers before blowing into your ear. “We’ll make sure to treat you right.” The younger woman presses her chest against you and moves her hand up to your chest, her fingernail tracing the middle of your chest. 

Once you arrived, the women led you inside their home. Natty shut the door behind you while Julie pressed her body against yours. “Where do you want to start?” She asked as her hand reached your crotch. She felt you grow as she rubbed your bulge. “Oh, you’re pretty big.” She said with a smirk. 

You felt soft mounds press against your back, “Don’t forget about me.” You felt Natty’s hands move across your waist until they reached your belt buckle. She undid it and unbuttoned your pants. Natty replaced Julie’s hand on your crotch as the older woman stripped you of your shirt. The corner of Natty’s lips curls as she feels your bulge, “Oh, you are big. Let’s see what you got.” The younger woman slips her hands around your waistband and pushes your underwear down; your cock flops out, smacking Julie’s thigh. Natty peaks out from behind you catching an eyeful of your cock. “Oh my god, you’re huge.” She says with mild amusement. Natty tries to wrap her hand around your cock; her small hands can barely do so. She gives you long, slow strokes. 

Julie eyes your cock, slowly kneeling before you. She sticks her tongue out and drags her tongue along the underside of your shaft. “We’ll take good care of you.” Julie’s lips form a seal around your cock; she bobs her head lightly, taking in just the head as Natty strokes your shaft. You groan; Julie’s warm tongue was lapping at the head. Julie pulled away from you, gathering her saliva and spitting on your cock before bobbing her head again. Natty used the older woman’s spit, coating your cock in it as she stroked you. 

“How are you enjoying this?” She whispers, nibbling on your ear lobe. “Julie, let’s move to the bedroom.” The older woman liked the suggestion and stood up. She held your cock as she led you to the bedroom, and they pushed you onto the bed. “Enjoy the show we’re going to give you.” Julie stands behind the younger woman, her hands groping Natty’s tits through her top. The younger woman hums, enjoying Julie’s touch. Julie reaches for the zipper holding Natty’s top together and slowly brings it down. Natty’s soft gasps and the metal teeth disconnecting are the only sounds in the room as Julie unzips the top. The younger woman has her arm across her chest, holding her top together. Julie runs her hands along the opened zipper. As Natty turns her head, she presses her lips against the older woman’s, letting her open her top and reveal her tits to you. Julie takes one in each hand, squeezes them, and makes Natty moan. She drops one, her hand moving down and tugging at Natty’s skirt. 

The younger woman helps her, pushing the other side down. Natty’s thighs are glistening, and her small bush is also prominent. Natty slips out of her top as they break the kiss, and it was Julie’s turn to be stripped. The younger woman faced you, hugging Julie and slowly pulling on the zipper, little by little giving you a view at Julie’s toned back. The women continued to kiss, Natty occasionally glancing at you. She smirked as she got Julie’s skirt off her. The younger woman gripped Julie’s ass, the soft flesh going in between her spread fingers before she let go and delivered a hard strike. Julie moaned into their kiss, a smile forming as she pulled away. 

The women crawl to you, climbing onto the bed and laying their heads on your chest. They reach down, grasping your cock and stroking you together. “Who are you going to want first?” They ask in unison. You look at them both, wondering who should go first. “I choose, Natty.” The pair smile at each other before moving. Natty straddles you, aligning your cock with her lips. She sinks on you slowly, her entrance stretching as she lowers herself. 

Natty grunts and throws her head back, “F-fuck, you're tearing me apart.” 

“Let me help,” Julie says, grabbing the younger woman’s breasts. She pinches Natty’s small brown nipples, pulling on them gently. 

“Oh, fuck.” Natty moans as she begins to bounce on your cock. You grab her hips, helping her move. Her walls squeeze you tightly as you move through her. You watch as Natty’s big tits bounce every time she drops her weight on you. You move in, taking one in your mouth while Julie teases the other. “Agh, more,” Natty says. Hearing that, Julie moves in, getting in front of Natty and sucking on her other nipple. As your tongue swirls around the hard nub, you feel Natty’s walls tightening. You figure that her nipples must be sensitive and gently bite the one in your mouth. Natty releases a low cry as she feels your teeth against her nipple. She stops bouncing on your cock and begins grinding her hips against you. You both moan, enjoying the pleasure of it all. 

“I’m not going to be left out, you two,” Julie says, unlatching from Natty’s tit. The older woman pulls you off Natty’s tit and lays you down. She climbs over you, straddling your face and firmly sitting on it. “Come on, baby, eat me.” You hesitantly run your tongue along Julie’s slit. Hearing her let out a moan gives you confidence, and you continue to do it, sometimes slipping your tongue inside. Julie begins rocking her hips, enjoying your tongue. “You’re pretty good at this,” She groans. Julie stared at Natty’s body; the younger woman’s tits bounced lightly as she began moving again. Julie reached forward, wrapping her arms around Natty’s neck and pulling her into a kiss as they rode you. Natty felt her orgasm coming slowly, a tightness in her core forming. She couldn’t focus on the kiss. This allowed Julie to slip her tongue into the kiss; she explored the younger woman’s mouth. Your hands moved along her waist, holding it tightly as you began meeting Natty’s movement. Julie could hear Natty’s muffled moans slowly climb higher as she reached her climax. Natty impaled herself on your cock as she came, her walls clamped down on your cock. You tried moving but found it challenging. Her walls rubbed the tip of your cock and made you cum inside her. 

You painted Natty’s walls white as she remained on you. Julie felt Natty’s body shake as the younger woman came, and she smiled before breaking the kiss. She moved off your face and bent down to kiss you, tasting herself on your tongue. “Take a look at what you’ve done.” She says, helping you into a seated position. You look at Natty; her chest is heaving, and sweat covers her body. Natty moves backward, getting off you and revealing her filled cunt to both of you. She buries her fingers inside herself, scooping your cum out of her and tasting it. The erotic sight got you hard again. 

Seeing that, Julie took her chance and pushed you onto your back, stroking your cock as she pressed it against her entrance. “I want you to do the same to me.” Julie places her hands on your chest and lowers herself. Your cock stretches out her cunt; she lets out a low-grown as her body accepts your cock into her. She rocks back and forth while adjusting to your size, only for Natty to push her down. 

“Use her nice and hard; start moving, big boy.” You follow her orders and begin moving early. Julie places her hands on your shoulders, grunting as she struggles to take in your cock. “Time for you to feel good, Julie.” The younger woman knelt behind Julie, spreading the older woman’s cheeks and outlining Julie’s asshole with her tongue. Julie’s back arched as she felt Natty’s tongue tease her asshole. 

“H-hey, wait.” Julie managed to get out between your rough thrusts. Natty took things up a notch, pushing her tongue inside the older woman’s ass. Julie’s moans flowed quickly as she struggled with the pleasure. She kissed you, quieting her moans as you continued to pound away at her body. You felt her tits rub against your chest, her hard nipples dragging against your skin with every thrust.  Your cum-coated cock made her walls slippery, allowing you to slide in faster.

Feeling that Julie had forgotten about her, Natty moved lower, running her tongue along Julie’s slit and occasionally on your cock. Julie gripped your shoulders, struggling to contain herself as she felt Natty’s skilled tongue tease her. “Fuck, Natty,” She grimaced. You felt her walls tightening around you. You gritted your teeth and grabbed Julie’s ass, holding onto it as you thrust faster. Julie screamed out in pleasure as she felt your cock tear through her, knocking against her womb. She buried her head in your chest as she came. Julie could feel Natty lapping up her nectar as you continued your thrusts a little longer. Eventually, you buried yourself inside Julie, filling her womb with your cum. She felt the hot cum, being poured inside her. Despite still being inside her, your cum leaked out slowly, and Natty was there to lick it up. 

Julie slowly got off you and lay by your side as Natty moved between your legs. She placed your dirtied cock between her big tits, pressing them together and slowly moving them. Natty’s tits soon became covered in a mixture of cum and were slick. You cooed, the pleasure coming from the titjob soothed you. “You’re still hard. Do you think you can go a few more rounds?” When you nod slowly, enjoying the titjob as you recover.  Your cock would disappear between Natty’s tits, only poking out from between them as she moved them down. “I think we found a good one, Julie.” She said before lapping at the tip of your cock, “We’ll make sure to treat you and this beast right.” Natty said before wrapping her lips around the tip.

The older woman smiled and kissed you, “We’re in for a long night.” The three of you filled the night with sex, going round after round until you were all thoroughly exhausted. The pair lay on your chest, sweat plastering their hair to their foreheads and cum oozing from their cunts. It painted their thighs, but they weren’t bothered by that. The following day, they asked for your number, being honest about why. It would be hard to resist them usually, but after the night you had, you wouldn’t pass up the option of doing it again.

[gibberishfangirl]

WIND BREAKER | when you wear someone else’s jacket

Synopsis ✰ how they react when they notice you wearing a piece of clothing that isn’t theirs

Characters ✰ Hakura Sakura, Hajime Umemiya, Hayato Suo, Akihiko Nirei, Jo Togame, Choji Tomiyama

Contains ✰ sfw! slight possessive behavior, tiny amount of jealousy, little bit of territorial behavior, minor pda, content of the boys being tested in a way?

Hakura Sakura ᡣ𐭩

Sakura knew something was off but couldn’t exactly pin point what it was. you went in for a hug since you haven’t seen your boyfriend all day. it was while he was in your embrace he inhaled a scent, a masculine smell that wasn’t yours or his, his eyebrows immediately furrowed. once you pulled away he examined your body, you looked fine, no visible marks, your outfit was normal… except for that over sized sweatshirt that was draped over your body.

“where’d you get that from?” he asked completely cutting off your babbling. you frowned over his abrupt interruption to your story. he didn’t even look sorry that he ruined your story just blankly staring at you until you opened your mouth to answer.

“a friend from class gave it to me, i was cold.” you answered confused why he was making it a thing. Sakura wasn’t the type to get jealous, it hadn’t even crossed your mind that something like this would ever bother him.

“what friend? boy or girl?” huh, what type of question was that? why would he ask that? there’s no way he could be bothered by something so small, right?

“uhm… a boy? does that matter?” you asked with your eyebrows slightly raised. you had never seen Sakura act so… weird? not over something like this.

“no, just curious.” he finally muttered out after what felt like a lifetime pause. the two of you continued your walk back home in silence. the entire time Sakura couldn’t fight off that frown setting on his perfect face. his eyes were stuck in a trance on you, more like that sweater on your body. you felt your entire body heating up by his intense stare.

you let out a sigh, getting the hint he was clearly upset over the sweater. you stopped in your tracks and pulled the sweater off your body. your boyfriends face immediately perked up after seeing you take it off. he was secretly grateful you did that because he was very unsure how to go about the conversation. before you even knew it, he was already taking off his jacket and putting it on you. you blushed at his action, it wasn’t something you were expecting him to do.

“just come to me whenever you’re cold from now on. i’ll warm you up.” he softly says with the warmest blush spreading across his face.

Hajime Umemiya ᡣ𐭩

Umemiya is rather calm in most situations so something like this doesn’t necessarily trigger him into doing anything drastic. he didn’t think much of it, until you kept wearing it for the rest of the day— then he started thinking ‘it seriously can’t be that cold, take it off already.’ he didn’t want to ask you whose jacket it was since he didn’t want to come off as jealous… even if he is. one thing he did know for sure was that everyone knew you two were dating. he couldn’t help himself anymore before he started taking off his jacket and removing the one you were wearing. he did it so quickly you almost didn’t even get the chance to register what he did. before you knew it his jacket was wrapped around you. you opened your mouth to ask—

“i just thought you’d look better with mine on.” he cut you off before smiling. his words caused you to blush.

“thank you.” you mumbled still registering what had just happened. he took your hand and interlocked it with his own and continued your walk home.

“who’s jacket is it? i’ll make sure to return it for you.” he smoothly says trying to pry the information of who gave it to you in a subtle way. at least, his version of subtle.

“oh- hm i actually don’t even remember. i almost forgot i was wearing it.” you’re confused now since you actually can’t remember who gave it to you. you stopped in your tracks, deep in thought trying to remember. “ah! i remember now, don’t worry about giving it to her. I can do that myself.” you exclaimed happily as you finally remembered the nice girl who lent it to you. she said it was her older brothers but she was always stealing his jackets and hoodies.

“oh good, i’m glad to hear that.” he smiled as you reached out to grab the jacket from his hands. he was relieved to hear that the jacket was from an innocent classmate of yours.

Hayato Suo ᡣ𐭩

as if anyone could even beat Suo into giving you a jacket before he does. Suo had already noticed the way your body was slightly trembling underneath the vent of the air conditioner. however, he also noticed another boy in the corner of his eye looking at you as well. he saw as the boy already begun taking off his jacket and making his way up to you. Suo suddenly felt this urge of territorial dominance creeping up as he wanted to show that you were his. before the boy could reach you Suo wrapped his arm around your chair and pulled your seat/desk closer to his.

“my poor baby, you’re cold. let me warm you up.” he offered with a smile before pulling you into his arms. your body instantly warmed up due to his own warmth. you happily accepted his offer as you buried yourself against his chest meanwhile he hugged you and rubbed your back with his warm hands.

Suo turned to look at the boy who already walked away after noticing you had a boyfriend to keep you warm. he let out a small sigh before keeping you huddled up on his side for the rest of class.

Akihiko Nirei ᡣ𐭩

he didn’t even realize the jacket you were wearing wasn’t yours. it looked so perfect and well fitted on you he actually thought nothing of it. the two of you were spending the whole day together and he said nothing about it. until you took it off and he noticed the name on the tag wasn’t yours.

“this isn’t your jacket?” he finally asked looking closer at it.

“oh no. it’s my friends, she let me borrow it after i forgot to bring mine.” you admitted slightly embarrassed you forgot to bring a jacket.

“i thought it was yours this whole time…” he paused, he was unsure of what to feel. should he be jealous? is it not a big deal? should he offer his instead? he decided to listen to his gut feeling. “are you still cold?”

“a little i guess, her jackets pretty thin so i can still feel the air through it.”

“here, take mine instead.”

“thank you.”

“of course! ask me for my jacket next time you’re cold, i have no problem giving it to you.” he smiled before taking your friends jacket and carrying it for you. Nirei didn’t actually care about you wearing someone else’s jacket as long as you weren’t cold, however, he still would prefer seeing you in his jacket before anyone else’s.

Jo Togame ᡣ𐭩

“take that thing off.” Togame wasted no time expressing his feelings about you wearing another man’s clothes. in all honesty, it irked him way more than he liked to admit. his mind was racing with thoughts of who would be stupid enough to give you their jacket, knowing that you’re his girlfriend.

“huh?? why? i’m cold.” you pouted not wanting to remove the soft material off of your body.

“it’s ugly, you don’t need it. take it off.” his voice was way more stern this time. a small part of you wanted to stand your ground and say no. however, a much larger and smarter part of you knew it was better not to. you took off the jacket with a frown before he snatched it away from your hands.

“wear this instead, my girlfriend shouldn’t go around wearing other men’s clothing.” he scolded while handing over his Shishitoren jacket to you. you wanted to argue but you couldn’t help blushing at his possessive behavior. it shouldn’t have such a strong affect on you but it does.

“who gave it to you anyways? give me a name.” he ordered while scoping out the jacket. it looked strangely familiar but he couldn’t exactly remember where he’s seen it before.

“it’s Choji’s jacket. he offered it to me and said I can keep it until I find you.” you answered with a bright smile. Choji’s gesture meant no harm since he was just trying to look out for his best friend’s girlfriend. he knew Togame wouldn’t have an issue if he knew it was his jacket. yes, you were well-aware of the fact that Togame was only mad because he thought it was someone else’s jacket.

“oh.” the realization settling in as his whole demeanor changed into something more relaxed.

“yes, oh.” you giggled. you could’ve told him sooner that it was Choji’s but where’s the fun in that?

“you called Choji’s jacket ugly.”

“shut up, you should’ve said something sooner.”

Choji Tomiyama ᡣ𐭩

Choji’s mood went from 100 to 0 real quick. his very bright and wide smile getting wiped off his face as his eyes landed on the jacket you were wearing. you tilted your head in confusion to his sudden mood shift. he was usually ecstatic to see you, you couldn’t help but sadden at the lack of emotion he was expressing towards you. were you two in the middle of a fight? had you argued with him and forgot? you didn’t know why he reacted like that. Choji walked up towards you and swiftly took off the jacket from your body. it happened so fast you couldn’t process what even happened. the emotion of confusion stayed in your body as he walked past you with the jacket thrown over his shoulder.

Choji made it his business as leader of Shishitoren to know everything and everyone. as soon as he saw that jacket on you he knew exactly who it belonged to. once you snapped back into reality you chased Choji down slightly worried about what he was planning to do. you found him with the guy who offered you the jacket by the Ori. you watched from a distance as Choji roughly chucked the jacket to the sitting boy’s face. the boy immediately stood up ready to defend himself.

“keep your filthy jacket to yourself and off my girlfriend from here on out.” Choji spat completely unamused by the whole situation. before the boy could even defend himself, Choji’s dark glare silenced him causing him to sit back down before muttering out a small “i understand.” he truly meant no harm by giving you his jacket but in hindsight he really should’ve known better than to do something so stupid. especially when considering you’re his leader’s girlfriend. Choji left it at that, it was his way of showing mercy and restraint.

“oh, you’re here.” he smiled once noticing you at the end of the street. before you could even respond he clashed himself against your lips roughly deepening the kiss as he practically shoved his tongue down your throat. you felt your face getting red, Choji typically wasn’t so affectionate in public, you knew he was doing this to prove a point. your grip tightened around his shirt before you pulled yourself off, small pants escaping from your lips.

“Cho-Choji you can’t just do that.” you argued extremely flustered.

“sorry! i forget you can get so shy, my pretty girl.” he smiled before softly giving you one more kiss. he had no doubt that the boy who gave you his jacket and his friends had all watched your little display of affection. he didn’t mind them watching, he wanted to remind everyone who exactly you belonged to. Choji wrapped an arm around your waist before pulling you closer as the two of you walked off.

[eddiesxangel]

That’s that me, Espresso | rockstar!eddie

@mmunson86 requested: I can’t stop thinking about rockstar!Eddie x pop!Princess! reader! & its all thanks to miss SC & Espresso! Imagine they are at one of her concerts right right & she has Eddie sit in the middle of the stage! she is about to debut this song its the last song for the night and she dances on him , for him , around him & Eddie is loosing his mind so right after the concert he wastes no time and takes her into the dressing room & the rest well you know the rest 🙂‍↔️💗

Cw: modern au, Rockstar!Eddie x Pop!princes wife reader. Age gap, Eddie is a filthy simp for his girl, soft!Dom Eddie (sir), oral (f receiving), p in v (unprotected), small bit of anal fingering. Talks of pregnancy.

2.3kwords

We are back baby!!! From the Wildflower universe, if you want more of the lore on these two.

“You ready, Angel?” Your husband smiles at you.

Husband, it still has a nice ring to it. You’ve been married just under a year. Giving birth to your little one put the wedding on the back burner, but you started the wedding planning once Lila Rose was 7 months old.

“Yeah, I think so,” you smile. You’re already in your hair and makeup, just waiting for your turn to get on stage.

The rowdy crowd of music festival goers grow impatient as the crew tirelessly works to remove the previous acts' set design.

“You think they’re going to like the new song?” You fiddle with the bedazzled mic in your hands.

“You kidding me? They’re going to love it!”

Eddie always encouraged your work, even if it wasn’t his thing. He loved every song because it was yours.

“All performers take their mark,” you hear the stage director in your ear.

You give Eddie one quick kiss and make your way to the stage.

The set went perfectly, but the riding anticipation of the new single was still in the back of your mind.

“Okay, Coachella! I’m going to need you to help me out with something.” You smile. “This is my last song of the night, and it’s brand new, so I’m a bit nervous.” You pace the stage.

“Now I have a special someone backstage with me, and I know he won’t come out unless we pressure him, so I’m going to need your help, okay?” you walk over to side stage and look him in the eye

You knew he would kill you, but you needed him for the extra moral support, and you kinda had a plan up your sleeve.

“Come on out, Eddie, baby,” you smile, and the crow starts to chant Eddie’s name.

Feeling embarrassed and a bit proud of you for getting what you wanted. Eddie stocks onto the stage, giving a small wave, not wanting this to be about him.

“Sit,” you speak into the mic and point to the fold-out chair in centre stage.

Eddie sits, and before he can protest anymore, he hears the first few beats of the music.

“Nice,” you sing in your breathy tone your husband can’t get enough of.

Now he's thinkin' 'bout me every night, oh Is it that sweet? I guess so Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso Move it up, down, left, right, oh Switch it up like Nintendo

Eddie really loved that last lyric. He thought it was very clever of you because he knew it was about him and how he eats you out.

Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso.

You and your dancers moved to the beat without missing a step.

I can't relate to desperation My 'give a fucks' are on vacation And I got this one boy

You turn to your husband and wink.

And he won't stop calling

You take a few short steps around to the back of the chair.

When they act this way

You lean in from behind and run your free hand down his shoulder to his chest and back up.

I know I got 'em

You swear you hear him moan.

I'm working late 'cause I'm a singer

You twirl your hair around your finger, then summon Eddie to come closer.

Oh, he looks so cute wrapped around my finger

He gets up and follows you like a puppy as you strut across the stage. My twisted humor, make him laugh so often My honey bee, come and get this pollen.

You flick up the edge of your mini skirt, and Eddie can see the lacy underwear beneath your stockings.

He needs this song to be over so he can finally have you. You've been rehearsing for this moment for months now. Stressing over it and with the baby, you and him have had hardly any time to have sex like you used to.

He's thinkin' 'bout me every night, oh Is it that sweet? I guess so Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso Move it up, down, left, right, oh Switch it up like Nintendo Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso

Eddie is back in his seat by the second bridge, and your dancing is driving him absolutely crazy. You know what you are doing. He can see it in your eyes; your mischievous gaze tells him you had this all planned out. You probably faked being nervous just to get him out here so you could seduce him.

Eddie was losing the battle of not getting hard in front of the thousands of fans watching. He couldn't help it; his bombshell of a wife was so irresistible.

Is it that sweet? I guess so That's that me, espresso

Eddie listened as you thanked the crowd. He took your hand and yanked you off stage once he thought it had been enough time for your final bow, letting you soak in this moment before he whisked you away.

“Eddie!” You squeal while trying to keep up with him in your platform go-go boots.

“Gotta have, you know,” he growls in your ear so only you can hear.

“Really baby? I worked you up that much?” You swoon.

After all this time, Eddie still makes your heart flutter. You never thought soulmates existed, but when you met Eddie, all that changed- especially after having his baby. The way he was with your newborn had you wanting to jump his bones before the doctor okayed you for sex again.

The trailer was close but not close enough in Eddie’s eyes. A thin sheen of sweat was starting to form on Eddie’s brow, and he couldn’t tell if it was from the hot Californian sun or the fact that his cock was about to bust through his jeans, and he was trying not to have anyone notice.

“Get out,” Eddie commands as the trailer door swings back. Eddie opens it so hard.

Your team looks startled as you and Eddie enter the small space.

You give them an apologetic look and they place down their stuff and leave you both alone.

“You were perfect up there.” he pulls you in for a kiss. “So fucking proud of you.” He kisses down your neck.

“Mmmm, thank you, baby”

“You’re a goddamn succubus, you know that, Angel?” Eddie shuts the door behind them and locks it before drawing the blinds.

“Is that right? Mr. Munson.”

“Oh, it is, Mrs. Munson.” Eddie pulls you in by the waist for a heated kiss. Still, after all this time, you both were so greedy for one another. Nothing can ever break the bond between the both of you… not again.

“God, Angel, you were a goddamn tease on that stage; you got me looking like a simp.”

You pull back, curious as to where he had heard that term.

“Simp?”

“VR tells me things.” Violet Rose, Eddie's oldest, whom you’ve adopted, is now twenty two.

“Okay, old man,” you giggle, and he walks you back to the sofa in the trailer’s back corner.

“Enough talking, more kissing.”

Your tailored dress, made just for you, was not easy to strip. Eddie was having a hell of a time trying to get out of it, only to groan when he saw your pantyhose as another barrier.

“Why do they make these things so tight.” He grumbles as you giggle at him.

“You weren’t complaining about it ten minutes ago,” you snide.

“Don’t make me put you over my knee.” He smirks.

“No, Sir,” you put your lip.

Finally, once you are out of your garments, Eddie kneels right between your legs.

“Baby, you’re going to hurt your knees,” You push his long hair back. “Why don’t we go -OH - to the couch” Not listening, his lips are already on your throbbing cunt.

The plus from your clit was relieved as Eddie’s tongue grazes it before quickly lapping and flicking at it.

“Oh fuck!” Your legs buckle, and your grip on Eddie’s hair tightens. He growls at the pain in his scalp, but he loves it all the same.

You feel his tongue go down, then to the left, then the right and finally circles your clit.

“Mmmmm, tastes so good, Angel”

“Please don’t stop!”

You feel Eddie's skilled tongue glide through your slick folds before you feel his hands nudge your legs, signalling to open them wider.

Eddie’s thick long fingers pump up into your warm wet cunt until you’re losing the battle to say upright. Your body is hunched over as Eddie sends waves of pleasure through you.

“Mmmm, that’s it, that’s my good girl. Cum for me.” The pads of his fingers graze you g spot each time. He doesn’t stop until he knows you are satisfied.

“That was a big one, baby; singing for me, go, you all worked up, didn’t it?” He stands and leads you to the couch until you’re lying down, legs spread nice and wide for him.

“Mmmhmmm,” you hum as you watch Eddie finally strip.

His body never looked better; he wants to be the healthiest to watch your baby grow up and maybe put another one in you soon.

“You ready for me, sweetheart?”

“Yes, sir, more than ready.” And it was true; it’s been a few weeks since you’ve had time to have sex, and it was long overdue.

All the pent-up sexual tension between the both of you is finally being released when Eddie's hard cock slides into yours effortlessly.

“Fuck I missed my pussy, baby girl.” His head tilts back, and you take the opportunity to suck on his neck, just as you know he likes it.

“So fucking beautiful” his cock pumped in and quickly backed out.

The tip of his dick ring never failed to make you see stars. Already you’re a moaning mess for him, cock drunk, and it’s not even been a minute yet.

“There she is, there’s my good girl” Eddie palms your tit as he continues to thrust deep inside of you. He watches your eyes roll to the back of your head, blissed out by how he makes you feel.

“More” you moan.

“More what?”

“Sir, please, I need you. Baby, I love you. I love you, please, I need it.” You babble.

Eddie's heart swells. He loves you so much he would give you the moon and stars if he could. Hearing you love him, especially when the two of you are like this, really makes him kick into high gear.

He will never take for granted those three words when you say them to him; your past is too painful not to.

“Tell me what you need, baby girl.”

“Fill me.” You pull him down into a kiss. Your tongue explores his mouth.

His hand that was planted on your waist is now travelling lower to your ass.

“This what you wanted, baby? All of your holes filled?” His finger teases your puckered hole.

“Yes!” You gasp.

“I think that can be arranged. Suck” he points his finger at your face, and you take as much of it in your mouth. You suck on it until it’s dripping with your saliva.

“Such a dirty girl, letting me fuck you and play with your ass hole.” His finger slowly glides in, and he pumps it to match the rhythm of his thrusts. “Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, sir!”

“God, I love you.” Eddie can’t help but to fuck you frivolously. The sound of wet skin slapping together filled the thin walls of the trailer.

“Please, please, please.” You were so close you could feel the pit building.

The pressure of his piercing brushing your g spot with every heavy thrust, each shape snap of his hips making him slide deep inside-mixed with the pressure of his finger pressed deep inside of you was bringing you to the edge of bliss.

“You going to come when I tell you to, Angel?”

“I can’t-can’t hold it!”

“Yes, you can,” he growls.

“F-fuck,” you curse him. You can’t hold it for much longer.

“Mmm, that’s right, babygirl. You’re going to listen to what I tell you.”

Your pussy naturally grips Eddie's cock so tight he almost loses it.

“Please, Sir. I want to cum. Please!”

The look in your eyes has Eddie reeling. The way you beg and submit to him, his perfect girl. His perfect wife, the perfect mother to his children.

“Cum” he growls, and you let out a cry of relief.

With your arms wrapped around the back of Eddie's neck, you pull him down into you on instinct. His body weight pressed into you, and your cunt grips his cock so deliciously Eddie is coming with you.

“Shit, baby girl, I think you nearly killed me that time,” Eddie chuckles as his legs give out and his total weight collapses on top of you.

You giggle dumbly as Eddie plants kisses all over your face.

You look up; his face is red and sweaty, but he’s never looked more beautiful.

“That was long overdue.” You sigh with relief.

“You’re telling me,” he chuckles with you.” “Let’s get you cleaned up, mama.”

“You trying to knock me up, Munson?” Deep down, you’d love to have another baby.

“What if I was?” He looks back over his shoulder, catching you checking out his juicy ass.

“Then I’d say we should keep practicing.”

“Wait for real?”

“You’re no,t getting any younger, “ you giggle.

“Oh, you little minx, you’re in for it.” He runs back towards you, lifts you off the couch, and plops you in his lap.

“I’m sorry!” You laugh as Eddie tickles your sides.

“You really want to start trying?” He asks genuinely.

“Yeah,” you nod.

“Guess it’s time for round two, gotta make sure it really sticks.”

Tags: @xxbimbobunnyxx @eddiesghxst @niallerlover8022 @eddiesguitarskills @all-dogs-die

@mimsie95 @mystargirl-interlude @rip-quizilla @munsonology @ali-r3n

@callsignraver @allthingsjoeq @ceriseheaven @amira0303 @mmunson86

@lofaewrites @taintedcigs @take-everything-you-can @lokis-army-77 @hellfiremunsonn

@hellfirenacht @oneforthemunny @lma1986 @mimsie95 @straykeeks

@crazycat-ladys-blog @starksbabie @hellfire--cult @goth-cowgirl-03 @dashingdeb16

@slayyymisha @xblueriddlex @kellsck @localemofreak @goodbyegh0st

@nope-thanks @nabiiturner @neurospicynugget @micheledawn1975 @mikromoon

@corrodedcoffincumslut @http-dilflvr @paybacksawitch

[kittenintheden]

how to lose your mind

WE HAVE LIFTOFF. yeah I. it's a companion piece to how to train your brat and can be considered a future NYS teaser-spoiler. read the tags. enjoy.

Rating: E Pairing: Astarion/Ori (female Tav/OC) Word Count: 5k Content: 18+, pegging Astarion into an absolute puddle, sex toys, anal, handjob, multiple orgasms, facesitting, oral sex, overstimulation, prostate stimulation, idiots in love and so horny about it, future NYS content

That old Harper druid is a bloody harpy. Sniping, judgmental, disdainful. Eager to tell him exactly where his shortfalls lie and rebuff him like a child, smirking all the while.

Heroes. Who has need of them? Certainly not him.

Astarion bursts into their private room at the Elfsong like there’s a storm cloud over his head. Ori’s reading in an overlarge armchair near the small fireplace clad in one of her short robes. Her legs dangle off the side of the chair.

She raises an eyebrow at him. “I sense there’s a story here,” she says.

He flails his hands through the air in exasperation and stalks over to the cabinet, snatching up the crystal decanter he’s been keeping his spare blood supply in lately. He turns around and points the neck of the bottle at her.

“That Jaheira is nasty,” he gripes, removing the stopper from the decanter and turning back around to pour himself a glass. “She called me, and I quote, a ‘homicidal imp easily distracted by shiny things.’” He waves his hand through the air for effect and glances over his shoulder at her.

Ori lets the hand holding her book fall to her chest and gives him a fond smile. “Is that inaccurate?”

“She’s not allowed to say it,” he says. “She hasn’t earned the right.”

He picks his goblet up by the rim and turns, resting back against the cupboard and properly looking at her as he brings it to his lips. The hem of her robe rides up her bare legs and stops just before her arse. If he had to guess, he’d say she wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

“And what have you been doing this afternoon, darling?” he says, pitching his voice lower and taking another drink as he holds her eye.

Ori shrugs. “Sorting through our chest of assorted nonsense.” She holds up her book. “Reading a bit. Enjoying the lack of whinging.”

He tuts at her. “I come to my partner for support in my time of need and all I get is teasing,” he pouts. “Woe, for I am alone in all things.”

She lolls her head back and laughs. Rolling her body toward him, she lets her book dangle from her fingers and gives him bedroom eyes from beneath her lashes. The split in her robe separates between her breasts and gives him a peek at her cleavage.

“That’s too bad,” she says coquettishly, running the fingers on her free hand over the vine tattoos twisting over her collarbone. “Here I thought I had company and that he might want to spend quality time with me tonight.”

Astarion hums at her and knocks back the rest of his refreshment. “He’ll think about it.” He turns around to pour himself another, tapping his toe against the wooden floor as he does. Over his shoulder, he says, “What were you reading, anyway?”

“Something I picked up at Sharess’ Caress,” she says.

His mouth tics up in a half-grin as he watches blood refill his silver goblet. “Ah, it all makes sense.” He sets down the decanter. “Give you any ideas for the evening’s activities?”

“One or two,” she says, a tingle going up his spine at the sultry lilt in her voice.

He looks over his shoulder to throw another quip and it sticks on his tongue when he sees that she’s sitting perched on the edge of the chair. The robe’s untied and laid fully open, revealing her bare, freckled chest and full breasts, her legs stretched out in front of her. She has her hands on the cushion behind her and arches her back so he gets the full effect as his eyes follow the natural path down from her parted lips to the valley between her breasts to the plane of her stomach to-

Ori glances down to the place his eyes have settled and says, “I thought maybe, if you wanted to, you’d like to come sit on my lap while we consider our options.”

Astarion chokes a little on his own saliva and coughs to cover it, glancing away. He clears his throat and looks back to the space between her legs, feeling a wave of surprised arousal ripple down his torso, leaving heat in its wake.

“Is that, erm.” He gestures at the dark gray, exquisitely shaped cock she’s attached to her hips with a black leather harness. “Is that the one…”

She lets her head fall to one side and grins at him. “The one I saw you eyeing when we were out before?” she says. “It is. The D-”

He waves a hand in front of him and shakes his head. “Don’t… please don’t say the name again. I can’t handle it.”

Ori giggles, head thrown back and toy bouncing teasingly in her lap. When she rights herself, her smile goes soft. She lifts a hand and holds it out to him. “Come here,” she says.

He does, leaving his second drink on the cupboard as he approaches, taking her hand. She pulls him to her gently, just enough to indicate that she’d like a kiss as she tilts her face up for him. He bends at the waist and presses his mouth to hers once, then a second time. Then he drops his gaze to the toy and reaches down to touch it.

It’s hard in a way that makes his own cock respond in kind at its promise, but softer than he’d thought it would be, as if it’s covered in a thin layer of well-conditioned leather. He runs his fingers over it, mapping its shape. Good. Very good shape. Very good size.

“Mmmn,” he breathes before he can catch the sound in his throat.

Ori leans in to kiss the corner of his mouth. “It’s an option. If you want. Or we can do something else.”

He laughs through his teeth. “No, this, uh. This is. I like it.” He meets her eye. “I think I would like to do that. With you.”

She smiles and waits.

“Now,” Astarion specifies. “I would like to do it now.”

“Lucky you,” she purrs, twisting her fingers in the front of his shirt and pulling him against her for another kiss.

Their tongues tangle together and he falls to his knees between her legs. He pulls the robe off her shoulders so he can run his lips and tongue along her collarbone and up over the place where her neck meets her shoulder. Another rush of arousal throbs through his core as his body and mind remember that this can feel good, it can feel so good, and he trusts that she’ll take care of him.

Ori’s hands go up under his shirt and she helps him get it off over his head, their mouths only parting long enough to remove it. She twines both hands around the nape of his neck and strokes her tongue sweetly against his. He groans as he presses his body to hers and feels the cock pressed between their bellies.

Half-reluctantly, half-eagerly, he breaks away and pushes himself to standing, going to undo his fastenings. Ori’s hands fall over his and he lets her take over, loosening his ties. As she does, she presses soft kisses along the line between his navel and his pelvis, further igniting his need. It’s all he can do not to whine at her.

She chuckles and gets his laces undone, hooking her fingers under the hem of his breeches and pulling them down until his hard cock springs free, the head swollen tight and pink with want.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she purrs, observing him mere inches from her face. “I thought you might like this, but I had no idea.”

He murmurs his approval as she pokes out her tongue and runs it sweetly over the slit on the underside of him, his pre-fluid creating a tiny pool in the center of her tongue. Then she looks up at him and swallows.

“How would you like it, dearest?” she says. “This is for you.”

It fully hits him, then. His gaze shifts to the side table where she’s set out a few things – towels, a basin, vials. The toy she’s wearing won’t give her any pleasure of her own, at least not the way she’s offering it to him.

“You planned this,” he breathes. “For me.”

She nods.

His throat bobs, desire and adoration swirling together inside him. He doesn’t know how to thank her. For this, for everything. But he’ll figure it out. Every day until it all ends, he’ll figure it out.

“I can be on top?” he asks softly.

“Of course you can, love,” she says, running her hands up the outsides of his thighs. She helps him remove his remaining clothes and then reaches for one of the vials.

Astarion lifts one of his legs and sets his foot on the chair beside her, leaving the other on the floor. Ori takes his hint and applies lubricating oil to her fingers before she reaches between his legs, continuing to press open-mouthed kisses to his stomach as she runs her middle finger along the cleft of his arse. His breath catches when she finds the opening and massages it gently with the pad of her finger.

He closes his eyes and relaxes into the feeling, letting himself enjoy the way she’s touching him. His thigh falls open wider, giving her better access. She takes her time, completely unhurried, letting him shiver and sigh for her. She touches him, kisses him, sings him his praises.

When he begins to squirm impatiently and cracks his eyes to give her a heated look, she gives the head of his cock another lick and pushes her finger inside slowly, up to the first knuckle to start. He clenches on instinct, then in pleasure, then relaxes as she pushes deeper, past the second ring of muscle.

He didn’t have doubts about her experience, really, but any he might have had evaporate when she curls her finger and finds his pleasure center almost immediately.

“Oh,” he breathes, curling over her slightly and gripping the arms of the chair. “Yes, there, right there.”

She works him slowly with one finger, then two, stroking circles along the place inside him that makes his toes curl. A low, aching, insistent tension begins deep inside him. The feverish need for more.

Instinctively, hard-coded from years of experience, Astarion reaches out blindly for her cock to stroke along its length, to bring her in closer to his body. It takes him a murky moment to realize it’s likely for naught, but he does it anyway. He feels oil against his fingers and realizes she’s added more, this time to the phallus she wears. He swallows hard and spreads it, pumping like he would if she could feel him.

Ori reaches up to the back of his head with her free hand and presses their foreheads together. “Whenever you’re ready, love.”

“Ready,” he pants. “Gods, so ready.”

She carefully removes her fingers from him so he can crawl up onto the chair with her, his knees on either side of her hips as he straddles her. Ori puts her hands on his hips while he holds on to the back of the chair and helps him line up, the phallus held firm in its harness. He finds it and sinks down, his breath coming rapidly as the head of it stretches him.

He rocks softly down, down, and down again, and then she’s partway inside him, the curve of the toy hitting him just right.

“Uuuuhhh fuck me,” he grits out as he moves.

“Trying, baby,” she says.

She puts her forearm against the chair for leverage and rolls herself up into him, her torso undulating in a smooth wave. Astarion shudders out his breath and lets his eyes fall closed as she works the full length inside him, stroking firmly along his hot spot on the way in and out. His fingers tighten against the chair and he turns his head to the side to gently bite down on his own arm to stifle the noises threatening to spill from his lips.

He works his hips in tandem with her, finding an easy rhythm that feels absolutely delicious. Ori’s hands run up his chest and around his ribs to his back. She brings her face in close to him, licking her tongue over his pectoral until she finds his nipple, and pauses there to gently suck.

“Hmmmmn-ah,” Astarion moans, releasing his arm where he’s biting it and letting sound rise out of his throat once more. Too focused on the tension building within him to be anything resembling coherent. His head feels far too heavy as he presses it against the side of her face.

With his mouth near her ear, she can pick out a select few words – mostly Elvish, with her name peppered in for good measure.

She takes her mouth from his chest and turns to kiss him quiet. He continues to rock against her, occasionally bobbing up and down. His timing goes increasingly spotty.

When they break, she whispers, “This must feel good. You’re doing the garbled Elvish thing.”

“Mmmm sh-shhh,” he shushes her, leaning in to cover her mouth with his, kissing between shallow gasps. For once, he has no clever comeback on deck. The only thing currently top of mind is that the combination of riding good cock and knowing the good cock belongs to the person he loves is driving him out of his absolute mind with pleasure.

He releases a hand from the chair and lets one arm fall to his side, dangling it as he leans back and rolls his hips against her, panting out a steady stream of hah, hah, hah as he lets the sensations wash through him.

While she watches him lose himself from below, Ori rubs circles into his lower back and around his hips. “So beautiful,” she murmurs. “Beautiful and riding me so well.”

He brokenly cries out her name. The tension inside him is swelling and rising, threatening to burst. He reaches around to take his cock in hand and finish himself off, but Ori stays him, lacing their fingers together.

“I’m ready to come,” he gasps. “I’m… right there.”

“I know,” she says gently back. “You can. You can come for me, love.”

“I need to…” He tries to touch himself again.

She holds him. “Trust me, baby. You can. You can come, just like this.”

“I… I…”

Ori continues to slowly fuck him through his overwhelm. When he relaxes against her again to let the pleasure continue, she releases his hand and reaches between his legs, not quite touching his cock. She briefly cups him before moving a knuckle behind his balls to massage the spot right at the base of his cock.

Astarion’s eyebrows tick up and his jaw goes fully slack as the additional stimulation tips him over, the tension releasing from him as he clenches down around the toy, riding out the heavenly pulses sending ripples through his entire body.

His cock leaks a bit, fluid trailing over the tip and down the underside, but continues to stand rock-hard and at attention.

“Bleeding gods above and below,” he groans. He’s only had one of those a handful of times in his life. For good measure, his body gives one last mild clench.

Ori lightly runs her fingers over his skin. “Did I do okay?” she teases.

He heaves a breath and hums at the feeling of her still inside him, the need already starting to prickle at the edges of his awareness.

“I just came so well that I don’t think I could pretend I didn’t if I tried,” he says, deadpan.

“So, yes, then.”

“Yes.”

She takes one of his hands back in hers and brings it to her mouth to kiss. “Do you need to take a breather?”

“Also yes,” he says.

With her help, he gets his legs back under him and carefully rises up off her, whining a little at the loss. It felt good and he’s still so hard.

But he also genuinely needs a moment to catch his breath.

Astarion helps her to standing and she gives him a kiss before she moves to the side table. He moves to flop down onto their shared bed, flat on his back. The blankets are cool against his sex-heated skin.

Ori takes a moment to do a quick cleanup with her gathered supplies before she comes to stand between his spread legs where they hang over the edge of the mattress. She lays two towels down on the bed beside him.

With a pleased sigh, she runs the pads of her fingers down the dip in his abdomen, making him jump beneath her touch as she nears his leaking cock. She doesn’t quite touch and he flops his head back in mock disappointment, his blissed smile giving him away.

“I think…” she says as she crawls up to straddle him, holding his eye. “... you could do another of those. If you wanted.”

“Gods,” Astatrion groans, his core clenching in memory and anticipation. “I don’t know that I could.”

She places her hands on either side of his head and bends down to kiss him. He feels the rigid tip of her phallus against his hip and subconsciously nips at her lip with a growl.

“Would you like to try?” she asks sweetly, batting her eyes at him. “Before the big finish.”

A rumbling hum rises from deep in his throat and he reaches up to move a curl out of her eyes. “You don’t have to keep going.”

Ori smiles fondly. “I want to.” She lays on top of him and he gives a gravely moan as her weight settles across his erection, trapping it between their bodies. She reaches up and traces her fingers over his face, gazing at him like she’s enchanted. “If you knew how gorgeous you looked just now, you’d want to make it happen again, too.”

He barks out a laugh and swallows. “Always knew you liked them pretty.”

She puffs a breath out through her nose and leans in to kiss his cheek. “I like them well-loved,” she says. Another kiss. “And fucked the way they deserve.”

His body responds to that like a reflex, arousal stretching and purring under his skin, his cock insistently reminding him of its need. He kisses her with a hum, breaking to rest his head back against the bed so he can look up at her with lidded eyes.

“I love you,” she whispers. “I love making you feel good. Will you let me?”

Gods, he adores her.

“I’ll allow it,” he says with a slow smile.

Ori raises her eyebrows. “Good.”

She goes to fetch another vial and spends a moment prepping them both again, running her heated palm over the back of his thigh and guiding him to bend his knee to open himself back up for her. When he’s ready, she puts her hands on either side of him and pushes cautiously back inside, careful not to go too hard or too fast as she lowers herself over his body.

Astarion instantly tightens his leg around her and draws her in closer, groaning out his desire. It’s wonderful, but it’s also overwhelming. He’s so gods damned sensitive, the head of his cock nearly purple with unspent arousal.

“I don’t know if I…” he whispers.

Ori slowly rolls one more time, brushing her hand along the side of his face and whispering into the opposite ear, “You’re all right, dearest. Whenever you’re ready to let go, I’m right here.”

He sputters out a tearful sound and arches into her, lifting his leg higher up to wrap along her hip. The adjusted angle makes him gasp, igniting the tension to build anew, higher and more maddening this time. With a whine, he grips her upper arm and turns his face toward hers.

“Love me,” he says, breath warm on her cheek. “Love me, Ori, love me.”

“I will love you so well,” she says, closing the distance to kiss him deep. “You remember our word?”

“Yes,” he breathes, nodding a little for good measure.

“Say it for me, one time,” she says, voice soothing.

Without hesitation, he says, “Weavemoss.”

Ori kisses him again. “Any reason we want to stop, no matter what, that’s our word.”

He presses hard into the kiss, then says, “I understand. Now fuck me again.”

“Whatever my sweetheart wants,” she purrs, pivoting her hips to set a slow, reverent pace.

It’s too much and not enough at once, sticky-sweet with an edge. He wants to both melt into the feeling and cling to it desperately.

He hadn’t exactly been quiet before, but he’d maintained a sliver of control over his utterances. This time, he doesn’t have the capacity to care. He leverages himself to grind back against her, whining and huffing and groaning out his pleasure.

“That’s it,” she says, her voice winded from the exertion. “You’re incredible. What a good, beautiful boy you are.”

“I am,” he agrees, huffing out a delirious laugh. She adjusts her angle slightly and gives him a series of quick, shallow thrusts followed by a long roll and he loses himself.

“Gods, arsurinyas, gods,” he gasps, head thrown back. “How are you doing that?”

“Practice,” she huffs, leaning heavily on her arms and increasing her pace.

From there, it’s only a simple of matter of time before his pleasure catches him again, the thread drawing tighter and tighter until it snaps once more. The whole of his pelvis and abdomen goes sore from its clenching, but in the way that feels like the high after a run, after a kill, after an unbelievable fuck.

And still, and still, his bullocks ache with unspilled seed. He’s nearly mindless from it.

While he comes down from his latest high, he feels Ori pull out and he tries to tell her no, come back, it’s so much but it’s also so wonderful, but he needn’t have worried. She takes his hands and uses her bodyweight to pull him up to sitting. He lolls there, blissed out and feral with need. 

“Think you can turn around for me, love?” she asks, giving his hands one more gentle yank. “I’ve got you.”

He groans and does as asked, thoughts too muddled to argue or attempt anything but her request. His leg is heavy as he lifts it and flips himself, feet now on the floor as he puts his palms on the edge of the bed. Ori approaches behind him and he barely registers her spreading the towels out under him, but then her hands are rubbing his back and he goes jelly-boned under her touch, a completely pliant mess.

“Ready?” she says. He feels her palms spread over his hips, holding him together.

He arches his deep in response. “Yes,” he breathes, barely audible.

When she enters him again, his mind hollows out and he instantly clenches down around the toy. She gives his body a moment to settle before she begins to move again. Her hands slide from his hips to the divots in his lower back, her thumbs massaging into the muscles there in the most deliriously enjoyable way, relaxing him and drawing a reedy purr from his throat.

Ori presses her breasts up against his back as she rocks into him yet again, kissing between his shoulder blades. He whimpers, overstimulated and desperate and continually dripping onto the towels below. 

“You’re being so good,” she croons. “Such a good boy. Aren’t you?”

“Yes, yes,” he sighs, rocking back into her. “I’ll be whatever you want.”

Another kiss on his spine. “Good boys get good things.”

His hair is damp with sweat, breath puffing from his lips in his lustful haze. “Please,” he whispers. 

Ori rolls up on her tiptoes and puts her mouth against his ear. She gives the lobe a little suck and enjoys his shuddering whine before she says, “Good boys get to come on my cock thrice.”

“Fuck,” Astation gasps, dropping his chin and feeling his cock pulse and twitch, his balls pulling in tight. 

Then Ori reaches around and takes him in hand and his mouth falls open with a guttural moan.

The remaining oil on her hand and his own slick spread under her touch, offering a splendid glide as she jerks him, making sure to brush up against the slit with her thumb as she works.

“Aaaa-aaaahh,” he manages as he thrusts into her hand.

She follows his hips with hers and together the set a rhythm, him fucking into her hand while she fucks into him, a perfect storm. There’s no drawing this out. He’s already hurtling toward the end, eyes squeezed shut until tears trail from the corners.

“Ori, gods, Ori,” he whimpers. “I’m going to cuh- gods-”

Like a shiver, it runs down the length of him from the crown of his head all the way to his toes. He breaks apart like so much stardust, his release spilling out in an incredible rush, then again, again, and again as Ori pumps him through it until it slows to a trickle. Everything goes soft and quiet, his body sated at last.

He doesn’t speak and neither does she, their heavy breathing the only sound. Ori wraps her arms around him and holds him close, peppering kisses over his shoulders, his back, his neck. Slowly, softly, she trails her fingers over his lower belly, soothing the soreness there.

When she pulls out, the only thing he feels fit to do is drag his burdensome body up onto the mattress and collapse into the pillows. He hears her soft laugh as she removes her harness and collects the messed towels, setting everything aside for a proper cleaning later. She takes some time to wipe herself down with water and mild soap from the basin, then brings a damp cloth over to do the same to him.

His breathing slows as she turns him onto his back, helping him tent a leg so she can carefully clean up the oil and spend from his skin. Astarion blows a breath between his lips and cracks his eyes open to look up at her, curls falling limp and sweaty against her head. Her skin is dewy with lust and exertion.

It’s been a minute since anyone’s fucked him so well, so selflessly. He reaches up a hand to brush against the side of her face, taking the cloth from her and tossing it aside so he can guide her down into his waiting kiss. They’re drunk on one another, lips and tongue and touch.

They make out for several minutes before Astarion runs a hand down her body and between her legs, finally. He finds her completely drenched with slick.

“Hmmm,” he hums against her mouth. “Someone enjoyed that almost as much as I did, I think.”

“What can I say,” she sighs, hitching her breath as he runs a finger along the seam of her. “It’s a bit of a rush to get your love off three times in a row, especially when he looks so pretty coming apart.”

“I can relate,” he says, voice low. He reaches around to palm her just below her arse and pulls her up higher. “Get up here.”

She chuckles. “This was for you, sweetheart.”

“The hells it was,” he lilts, pulling her with slightly more insistence. “If you think I’m going to let you get away with all that without making you scream your pretty heart out, you don’t know me at all.”

“Promises,” she teases. But she relents, letting him guide her as he scoots himself down the mattress and lifts her leg until she’s settled directly on his face.

He runs the entire flat of his tongue along her heated cunt, savoring the moaning gasp she makes, and moves his hands up over her sides, counting every rib as he goes before he lowers one hand to her waist and palms her breast with the other. Ori offers little resistance before she begins rutting against his mouth, chasing relief he’s all too happy to offer.

His tongue works magic as he curls it up into her, stroking along the rough place just inside before drawing back up to lave at her clit.

Ori puts her hand over his on her chest, making him squeeze her tighter there as she begins to bounce a bit. “Gods damn it, you have such a sweet mouth,” she pants.

He smiles and continues to work her, using everything at his disposal to light her up – the flats of his teeth, the whole of his tongue, the suction of his lips. Her clit goes pebble-hard under his ministrations and she whines out his name.

“Gods, gods, gods,” she huffs out between bounces, her voice tight with need. “Gods, Astarion, that’s so fucking…”

He redoubles his efforts, moving both hands to the globes of her arse and gipping hard so he can help her fuck his face to her content. And she does, she does and she does until her thighs quake.

Astarion rolls three circles in quick succession, a delightful swirl that he knows will drive her mad, and she throws her head back and gives a rewarding, sobbing cry to the ceiling as she comes, her slick coating his chin.

After, they lay side by side naked on top of the covers, Astarion wrapped around her from behind with a hand still palming one of her breasts, softly snoring.

They don’t wake until midnight, and they don’t talk about the fact that for all his disdain for heroes, he certainly doesn’t mind being fucked by one.

[jarofstyles]

Please write us some extreme pda like I know it’s not everyone’s cup of tea but I love it 😩 like they’re out at a bar and all of their friends are disgusted and annoyed but they’re just so in love they can’t keep their hands off each other 😭😭 like just lots of kisses, neck kisses, lap sitting, whispering to each other, giggling, hair playing etc 🥰

Oh I love a sickly PDA couple but only in books bc I’ll probably vom if I see it irl. So sure!

Here is a bit from Leather and Lace since we just finished them up.

Check out our Patreon!

——

“I can’t believe you’ve turned to mush.”

“Shut up.” Harry grumbled, holding Y/N closer on his lap. His chin rested on the dip in her shoulder, lips pried away from the chaste kisses he’d been giving to her throat. It was probably obnoxious but Harry really didn’t care. His indifference to what people thought went soul deep. All he really cared about was Y/N, if he was being honest.

And maybe the milkshake she’d promised him on the way home for prying him out of her bed. That was a topic he went back to a few times tonight. 

“Oi, be nice.” Y/N laughed, placing her hand on top of his ringed one to squeeze it lightly. There wasn’t much heat behind her words, merely defending Niall so he wouldn’t be complaining as much to her.

“Thank you. Feels like m’constantly third wheeling now. Knew he had a hard on for ya, but I didn’t expect him to turn into a good old fashioned loverboy.” The man scoffed. Harry merely rolled his eyes, jaw setting slightly as he narrowed his gaze.

“We are not the only people here. Y’know that, yeah? There’s like, a dozen of your friends here. You can fuck off if you’re annoyed. Not my problem.” He hammered in the point with a smirk, kissing the girl’s cheek a few times to make him screw his face up in disgust.

“I was trying to be nice, you old grouch! Even being loved up you still find a way to be mean t’me.” Their friend pouted before sticking up his middle finger, excusing himself to get another drink.

“Baby…” Harry whined slightly, tapping at her cheek to encourage her to turn it. “He’s finally gone. C’mere.” There was no chance of her scolding him as he pressed his lips to hers. They were slightly sticky from the virgin strawberry daiquiri she’d been sipping on -extra maraschino cherries- and sweet to the tongue as he hummed happily against them. This was precisely what he wanted. People to fuck off and leave him to love on her.

Y/N was soothed by his touch, a light giggle muffled by his lips as he turned her slightly in his lap so he could kiss her properly. He’d behaved well enough- for Harry, anyways- so she wasn’t going to get on him too much. He hadn’t wanted to go out, as usual, so she’d bribed him with the promise that he could love on her as much as he wanted- but he had to keep it PG-13. Her fingers brushed through his hair, shivering slightly as his fingers dipped under the hem of her dress.

“Mm… careful.” She sighed, but made no effort to stop. As much as she wanted to be proper, it was hard to want to stop him as he touched her. She played it cool most of the time but she was just as far gone for him as he was for her.

“M’very careful with you, Butterfly.” He nipped lightly at her bottom lip. “Even when you beg me not t’be. But I’ve suffered these people long enough. If you want me t’be nice, I need my kisses.” His voice was quiet enough to not disturb the other people around. His sweet words were reserved solely for the girl who held his affections. Especially the dirtier ones.

“H!” She grinned against his mouth, leaning further in to kiss him again. Wrapping her arm around his shoulder, she leaned into him with a dreamy sigh. Hot fingertips ran over the silky skin of her inner thigh, moisturized to the gods in her shower routine today for this exact reason.

“I can’t help it, you’re always so soft. So sweet…” he cooed. “Want t’eat you up. Torture sitting here when all I want t’do is sit you on my cock to keep it warm while you talk t’me. That’s your favorite, isn’t it?”

Harry never did play fair. Holding back the whine in her throat, she huffed instead. Giving his hair a little tug, she tried her best to look menacing- as menacing as she could in her pretty lilac dress he’d picked out especially for her tonight. “It is, and you’re bein’ mean to me by mentioning it. We can’t here.” Even if the thought made her hot between her thighs, it was too risky.

“I know. We should go home so we can.” The man was trying to coax her and knew where to hit it where it hurt, but they’d barely been out with friends since establishing themselves as a couple.

“Not yet, I’m sorry.” The pout on her face made him forgive her, even if there was still a hint of bitterness over the fact. “They begged for us to come out and it’s only been two hours. One more and we can go home, okay?”

Harry answered with a grunt, hiding his face in her throat again while he resumed with his throat kisses. As much as he wanted to leave, he wanted to make her happy even more. The weakness was real when it came to his Butterfly. Even more so because she’d paused her social tendencies for him. “Okay. But you’re gonna have t’make it up to me big time as soon as we get home, okay?” He was plotting for sure. “An hour straight of making out, a little feel under the dress, maybe a little begging with that cute pout for me to take it off. You know how I like it.”

[peachdues]

KNIGHT IN SHINING ARMOR

WIND AND MOON • Sanemi x tsuguko!Reader

A/N: or, Sanemi nearly murders Maeda to protect Reader’s honor, featuring Reader getting to wear Sanemi’s haori.

A snippet from an upcoming chapter of Wind and Moon.

CW: MDNI • light strangulation (deserved) • implied past sexual assault against Reader (not described) • implied assault of Sanemi’s mother (not described) • protective Sanemi • soft Sanemi • ust kiss already jfc • violence

Sanemi Shinazugawa was never particularly keen on visiting the Corps’ tailor. His hatred for the bespeckled seamster was no secret among the slayers, nor was his reasoning. Most of the Corps disliked Maeda — particularly those female slayers forced to endure his unwanted attentions, who, when presented with too-small and too-short garments, saw his feigned incompetence for what it was: perversion.

Sanemi, however, was the one of the only few who’d ever called him out directly for being a lecherous asshole. And he certainly was one of the only ones who Maeda genuinely feared — enough so, that he became remarkably adept at his job whenever he heard so much as a whisper of the Wind Pillar’s presence.

And yet, Sanemi knew that their previous encounter — one that ended with Maeda pissing his pants while begging for forgiveness Sanemi had been in no position to give as the female slayer he’d groped stood nearby, red faced and humiliated — didn’t seem to have inspired the tailor to make any permanent changes to his deviant habits.

So no, Sanemi was already not in the best of moods as he stalked through the hallways of the Butterfly Mansion, in search of the fitting rooms where Kocho had informed him Maeda would be fitting his new tsuguko — you — for your final uniform.

He was wryly optimistic that the lecherous tailor wouldn’t try anything knowing who you were and of your proximity to him. But still, Sanemi didn’t like that he’d left you alone with Maeda for any period of time, and he was eager to get you suited up so the two of you could return to training.

Training. Sanemi had been warned that your breathing techniques, though powerful, were about as stable as a barrel of gun powder near a lit match. He would need to prioritize your precision, your control, before moving onto anything to do with your actual movements and fighting abilities.

He scowled. It would be a long day, he knew. You had an attitude and a smart mouth he was fairly sure couldn’t be beaten out of you, and grudgingly, he thought he might have to just endure it. You’d probably spend most of your time bitching; of that he was certain. But unluckily for you, you’d been assigned to the Hashira with the least amount of sympathy when it came to training; one whose disdain for complaining was rivaled only by Iguro’s.

At least he only worked his trainees to the point of vomiting or passing out; Iguro tortured the poor bastards, and he relished doing so.

And so, Sanemi began mentally tallying up the various exercises and tasks the two of you would undertake as he rounded the last corner leading to the fitting rooms. He would start with breathing techniques, he decided as he reached for the doorknob. Breathing techniques, and then physical exercises — pushups, planks, perhaps even over a bed of tacks for motivation, and then —

All of the Wind Pillar’s internal planning ground to a halt the moment he swung the door to the dressing room open. In an instant, all thoughts of endurance and strength-enhancing regiments dissolved as Sanemi’s vision turned crimson at what lay before him.

His tsuguko; and though you’d proven yourself more than capable of testing his patience, for once, it wasn’t your smart mouth that was making him see red.

It was the sight of you, standing up on a small pedestal before a great mirror, clothed in scraps of fabric that could hardly be called a uniform as the Corp’s perverted tailor circled you like a vulture does a piece of felled prey.

He didn’t need to look at you for long before his vision tunneled in on the seamster startling back from you as though burned, his eyes wide with fear as he stared at the reddening face of the Wind Hashira behind you.

Because Sanemi didn’t have to linger; he’d seen enough to know.

Your skirt hung a solid inch shorter than even the Love Hashira’s, its hem barely extending past the tops of your thighs. Your shirt was easily two or three sizes too small, preventing you from fastening anything but the bottom two buttons.

But it wasn’t the egregiously little coverage of your uniform that loosened the lid he tried to keep on his rage. It was your face. Though your back was facing him, he could see every inch of you — exposed as you were — reflected in that great mirror.

There was a rigidity in your limbs that Sanemi clocked instantly as paralysis; and the empty, haunted look in your eyes as they fixed wide and unseeing at some distant point on the floor coupled with the way you’d hadn’t so much as flinched when the door flung open signaled to him that you were not truly present in that room at all.

You were back at your family’s estate, blood-soaked and half-dead as you were forced to endure whatever it was those bandits had take upon themselves to do.

And Sanemi disappeared from the room right along with you. In that moment, he instead saw the countless other female slayers forced to endure Maeda’s greedy, wandering fingers over the years as they stood exposed under his beady little eyes.

He saw his mother turning rigid under his father’s too heavy, too rough hands as he dragged them down her body. Ma, who would force her mouth into that distant, practiced smile she always maintained in front of her children who were too young to understand why Kyogo dragged her by arm out the back of their home as he barked at them to stay inside until she returned.

He saw you; broken and bleeding in the snow, your clothes askew, unable to be left alone even in death; used.

Red. Red. Sanemi could only see red as his feet carried him across the floor.

“M-Master Shinazugawa!” Maeda squeaked as he began trembling; loud enoufh for his voice to carry down the hall, a futile effort to alert any nearby Corps members of the rage burning in Sanemi’s eyes as the latter advanced on him. “How w-wonderful it is to see you a-gain —!”

With nothing but a faint buzzing in his ears and an anger-numbed mind, Sanemi’s hand snatched the tailor around his throat before he could think the better of it.

“I thought I made myself pretty damn clear the last time I saw your ugly mug of the need for you to keep those filthy fuckin’ hands to yourself.”

Sanemi’s voice was a barely more than a growl, low and dangerous and vicious. “And I thought I told you what would happen if I caught you makin’ a mockery out of our uniform again.”

The seamster’s cheeks were rapidly turning purple as Maeda sputtered. But Sanemi only tightened his hold around the tailor’s throat, lifting him from the ground until his toes only scraped along the floorboards.

“Y’know, I’ve had to hold my tongue for far too fuckin’ long about you.” Sanemi cocked his head in consideration. A slow, wolfish smile stretched across his mouth, all sharp teeth and a vicious promise that he could and would rip out his throat. “But you’ve got some balls for someone who’s too much of a rutting coward to fight the demons we give our lives to exterminate.”

A crowd of curious and horrified junior slayers had gathered out in the hall, nervously watching as the Wind Pillar threatened to squeeze the life out of the Corp’s sole tailor.

Behind them, you remained frozen on the pedestal, though your eyes had shifted away from the floor, focusing instead on him.

Sanemi wrenched the tailor closer until they were nearly nose-to-nose, his fingers digging harshly into the soft, fleshy portion of the tailor’s neck. “And you dare make a mockery out of our uniform? You think I’m okay that you’re putting female slayers at risk by not giving them proper protection? What sort of person does that to their comrades?”

Sanemi’s pupils shrank to pinpricks. “You’re not even fuckin’ human. You’re no better than a god damn demon.”

The muscles in the Wind Pillar’s forearm rippled as his fingers crushed around Maeda’s throat. “And we’re required to put demons outta their fuckin’ misery. So, whaddya think that means for you, shitstain?”

There was a distinct wet dripping against the floorboards as Sanemi remained there, Maeda suspended before him.

Sanemi didn’t need to look down to know what it was; its scent alone was enough of a give away.

Urine.

That feral grin of his only widened. Good, Sanemi thought savagely. The bastard should fear for his life. And who gave a shit, really, if he took out the creep right then and there. It didn’t matter that he was the only tailor in their ranks capable of manufacturing their uniforms with speed and precision. Sanemi would trade his sword in for a needle, if it meant wiping away the stain that was Maeda.

But Sanemi’s wild, murderous rage was tempered by the sudden arrival of the Insect Pillar, who had appeared in the room in a blink of an eye, her small hand wrapped harshly around Sanemi’s wrist.

Her voice was hard and severe as she ordered, “Shinazugawa, stop!”

Sanemi only snarled in response, his hand squeezing tighter and tighter. Just a little more pressure and it would be over, Maeda would never harm another woman again —

Kocho wrenched on his arm once more. While her strength wasn’t enough to force his grip to relax, it did jostle Sanemi enough that he looked away, just long enough to catch the pair of eyes that watched him closely in the mirror.

Your eyes.

Sanemi found himself unable to look away as the two of you stared at one another in the mirror’s reflection. And though that haunted look remained, there was a newfound tightness in your gaze.

Pain, he recognized. There was pain in your eyes, too. And suddenly, Sanemi became all too aware of the fact you were still exposed, only now in front of a greater number of your comrades than before.

Sanemi held your eyes for one more moment before his hand opened around Maeda’s throat.

“Pissed himself like a little bitch.” He sneered, dropping the lecherous tailor to the ground where he crumbled like a napkin.

Maeda sputtered and heaved on the floor, color rapidly returning to his face as he gasped for breath.

Sanemi only looked after him with disgust.

The Butterfly Mansion’s mistress turned sharply toward the entryway. “Away.” She ordered before she turned back. But the instant the word left her lips, the gaggle of junior Corps members who had congregated in the hallway dispersed.

Sanemi cut his eyes to the Insect Hashira and saw a cold rage simmering in her eyes. Eyes that were not looking at him, but were instead glued to the sniveling mass on the floor, whimpering into a puddle of his own urine.

“P-please, forgive me, Master Shinazugawa! I must have packed the wrong uniform — I will sew a n-new one right away —“

“Save it,” Sanemi spat. “And get the fuck outta my sight.”

Though he wanted add in a kick for good measure, Sanemi held back. He was likely in deep enough shit as it was, once word reached the Master about what he’d done. He knew better than to continue testing the Corps’ limits.

Kocho inclined her head back toward the Wind Pillar. “I will see to it that a new uniform is prepared for her immediately.”

She made to step primly over Maeda’s shuddering form, but halted.

Kocho crouched down, low. “I think we both know that you’re better off keeping this to yourself and never mentioning it again, hm?”

Maeda turned his reddened face up toward the Insect Pillar and shrank under her withering glare.

Kocho’s answering smile was nothing but poisoned honey as she dropped her eyes to the wet stain that soaked the front of Maeda’s trousers. “If you wish to hold onto what’s precious to you, that is.”

She narrowed her eyes coldly, as though squinting for something, before she rose with a faint scoff, her threat hanging over Maeda like a cloud.

The Insect Hashira turned back to Sanemi. “I trust you will see yourselves out?”

Sanemi felt a rush of gratitude toward his comrade — likely only one of two among the Pillars who wouldn’t rat him out to the Master — and curtly nodded his head.

Kocho only gave him her usual, practiced smile. “Until next time, then.”

With that, the mistress of the Butterfly Estate departed. The moment the edge of her haori flapped around the corner of the doorway, Sanemi dropped his attention down to Maeda.

“Fuck off.”

The tailor made not a peep as he scrambled to his feet and he left the dressing room without a word.

——

Finally left alone, Sanemi turned to you.

“Y/N.”

You blinked, surprised. He’d addressed you by your first name — something that, until this moment, you’d been fairly sure he hadn’t known.

You made some noise in response, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, exposed as you are.

Shinazugawa didn’t seem to mind. “Let’s go.”

While you were just as eager to get the hell out of the dressing room and away from the Butterfly Mansion, you remained rooted in place upon that platform.

Not a moment had passed since Maeda had first unveiled your new attire that you hadn’t been acutely aware of your own exposure.

You gulped and cast your eyes around the room. You found the neat pile of the clothes you’d worn for the trip here folded in the corner of the dressing area. While Shinazugawa had made a point to keep his eyes on everything but you, you couldn’t fathom having to wear the scrap of a uniform you’d been given for the entire journey back to his estate.

But nor did you want to change again; you couldn’t, not when that would require you to be left alone, a possibility that seemed nearly as daunting as having to brave the trek home in little more than a loincloth.

You agonized over your options, especially as you felt Shinazugawa’s impatience mount. You shifted anxiously from foot to foot, arms wrapped tightly around your chest in a desperate attempt to keep your breasts concealed as you struggled to make the words — any words, really, dislodge from where they’d become stuck in your throat.

Annoyed by your lack of inaction, Shinazugawa looked back into the mirror. In its reflection, you saw him open his mouth, ready to snap at you, but the moment his eyes connected with yours, it closed.

An understanding passed between you right then, as heavy the silence that hung between you.

Shinazugawa considered you for a moment before his hands went to the front folds of his haori. A strange shyness fell over you while he shrugged out of it, causing you to drop your gaze as he rounded the pedestal, haori in hand.

He shoved the ball of white fabric at you, though he kept his gaze fixed pointedly at the ground. “Here. Use this to cover up.”

Timidly, you plucked the Wind Pillar’s haori from his outstretched hand and quickly turned away.

Though it sat cropped on him, the hem of Shinazugawa’s haori extended past the laughably short one of your skirt, providing your backside with a bearable degree of coverage.

It was warm; and to your surprise, it smelled nice, a familiar, grassy sweetness washing over you as you pushed your arm through one of the holes.

Shinazugawa had turned his back to you, his hands notched firmly on his hips as he waited. You tested the reach of his haori, relieved to find that you could wrap it around your front and hold it easily in place by folding your arms across your chest.

You glanced at your reflection in the mirror. The white fabric reached a good three inches down your thighs, all vulnerable areas sufficiently covered.

It would do, you decided. At least until you returned to the Wind Pillar’s estate.

“I’m ready.” You said softly after a moment. Shinazugawa only looked back at you and nodded, before the two of you quietly made your way through and out the Butterfly Estate, setting down the path that led home.

Neither of you spoke for the entire journey. Instead, you were left to stare at the broad expanse Shinazugawa’s back.

The Wind Pillar wore a slightly modified version of the Corps’ uniform, you realized. His top was sleeveless and without the presence of his haori, you saw that his biceps and shoulders were just as solid and well-defined as the rest of him.

No wonder he’d been able to lift Maeda so easily from the ground; Shinazugawa’s biceps were huge. Though, you noted with some mild interest, the skin of his arms was just as scar-specked as the rest of him.

Idly, you wondered whether the scars dotting his face and body were products of his years with the Corps — a tapestry of battles hard-won, or whether they, like yours, were part of a past he wished he could forget.

You arrived back at the Wind Pillar’s estate shortly before sunset. The moment he set foot inside the gate surrounding his manor, Shinazugawa turns to you and holds up a hand.

“Wait here.”

Without another word, he disappears inside of his manor, leaving you alone in the courtyard, slightly bemused.

The Wind Pillar returned a few moments later, a familiar, dark green fabric draped over his hand.

“Here,” he held out the material to you. “Still had one from when I was a Mizunoto. Might not fit you properly, but it’s better than nothin’.”

You accept his offering and then it over in your hands, eyes running over the crisp white destroy sewn into the back. Below the shirt is a pair of pants, in the same, dark-green tinted hue as the shirt.

“I know it doesn’t mean much,” Shinazugawa’s voice was gruff as he spoke. Curious, you lifted your eyes to find him rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck. “But if I’d’ve known what he was gonna pull —“

You shook your head. “Don’t. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Truthfully, you didn’t want his apologies. To apologize meant there’d been an expectation, and expectation meant there’d been some trust he’d broken. While he may have been your master — while he may have been the one whose face you could not forget from that day — nothing about either of those things meant he owed you anything.

Shinazugawa looked like he was going to argue, but he closed his mouth and turned away.

Good, you thought. At least he knew to pick his battles.

“We’ll start training once you get your uniform in.” He said after a moment, turning away to retreat into his estate. “Get settled here and once it arrives, we’ll start.”

You nod, your fingers clenching tightly around the front folds of his haori. Though you know you’re safe out here, that Shinazugawa has no interest in overstepping any of your boundaries, you still feel too exposed.

More than anything, you want to retreat to your small room at the back wing of his manor, and disappear under your covers.

The Wind Pillar seems to know, for he only gives you a curt nod, before he turns back to the great, sprawling Estate, and takes the entry stairs up two at a time.

You wait a moment before following. You’ll have to figure out how to return him his haori, you realize. Perhaps you’ll drop it off at his room later in the night, when he’s likely to be asleep, or maybe you’ll wait until breakfast —

“Y/N.”

Your foot halted mid-air as you lifted your head to him, waiting.

Shinazugawa lingered on his engawa, though he kept his back to you.

“I won’t leave you alone with another man again. That’s a promise.”

You wanted to snap at him that he shouldn’t do this — he shouldn’t create obligations that he couldn’t or wouldn’t keep. That was the only way this transaction between the two of you would work; Shinazugawa would train you and once you’d gathered enough of a grip over your own abilities, you’d fuck out of his life and pursue your own, greater ambitions.

That’s what you should say, and yet, his words strike at something soft in you. Reminds you, once again that for whatever reason, he is someone you can rely upon; someone you can trust.

The exception.

And it’s because of that, you only respond, “Thank you.”

[lvminy]

⋆ CUCKOLDING ft. Welt and Gallagher

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 cw. f!reader, pet names ( angel, princess ) manhandling, unprotected sx.

NAVI ⁞ EVENT MASTERLIST

how did this even happen? Welt was not sure.

a bit too many drinks and what seemed more like a threesome invitation, quickly turned into his cute, sweet, angel girlfriend getting rawdogged by the buff bartender, while all your boyfriend could do was watch with eyeglasses slipping down the sweaty bridge of his nose, cheeks blushed and the fat length of his cock heavy on his palm.

“feels good, princess?” Gallagher’s gruff voice was heard through the room, barely a whisper compared to the slick sound of your cunt sliding up and down his cock, his tone slightly mocking due to the way you seem unable to form a coherent though, only babbling a slurred version of the bartender’s name. he doesn’t need you to speak though, the way your slick walls convulse around his tip is almost enough response.

pushing the main situation aside, Gallagher remained as polite as ever, “hey, Mr. Yang, is your girl this easy to get fucked stupid?”

fuck him, is what Welt won’t say out loud, a bit too dizzy, a bit too awestruck by the chance to admire from another angle how beautiful you looked getting used, getting filled with another cock that wasn’t your boyfriend’s, “yeah...” is what he says, sharp and straight to the point, perhaps a bit stupid as well, similar to your position as his thumb slides across his drooling cockhead.

“hm” Gallagher hums in amusement, sliding his hands from your hips to your soft ass and spreading you wider, and the sound of a sharp inhale is still blurred unsure if it came from you or your boyfriend, “pretty little thing, going so silly on a stranger’s cock” is what he says next, barely giving you a second to squeak in protest before he’s slamming into you from below, so hard and fast his balls resonate against your soft skin, guiding the tip of his cock straight into your g-spot until you’re creaming and gushing.

and Welt feels like he’s about to pass out, or cum embarrassingly soon from the mere sight of your trembling, cute body doing its best effort at taking such massive cock, mind swimming in your moans, in your gasps and screams of desperate pleasure, have you ever sounded as gorgeous before? you most definitely did, but this new point of view was wonderful, inspiring even, luring Welt into an intense orgasm that syncs with your cumming all over the bartender’s lap and drops splattering on the floor.

[afterglowkatie]

hate that i love you (not really) | k.c.c.

kyra cooney-cross x reader | 2.7k | a night out with the arsenal girls. misunderstandings and jealousy leads to realisations and regrets

ˏˋ°•*⁀ this is part of the pair of pests universe. thank you for being so patient with me. the ending to this went a lot different to how i originally planned it to go, but i like where it went and i hope you all like it too. i also kind of think this part is horrible but yeah enjoy and thank you :)

You hardly slept not being able to stop thinking about Kyra. Thoughts swirling around your head, wondering why she wouldn’t tell you. You thought you told each other everything. The only conclusion your mind would believe is that there was something going on between Kyra and Lia. There wasn’t any other possible reason that you could reason with being true. 

You didn’t know how you felt about the thought of Kyra liking someone but you knew it didn’t feel great. It felt like you had swallowed a weight that was now just sitting in the bottom of your stomach. You could feel your face scrunch up in a look of disgust. These thoughts and feelings you hated having but you couldn’t get them out of your head.

It’s what kept you up almost the entire night, up until you couldn’t help but fall asleep from pure exhaustion. Though you didn’t end up sleeping much. Thankful that you had the next few days to just rest and you didn’t have to put your tired self through any training. Resting the whole day until you decide to pester Steph into getting ready for the night out together.

‘Stephy come on,’ You whined when Steph wouldn’t take another shot with you after the two you had already downed close together, ‘Kyra would do it,’ 

‘Well why aren’t you with her instead of bothering me,’ Steph joked around, continuing to do your makeup after you begged her until she finally agreed, ‘Really shouldn’t poke fun at someone who’s could make you look real stupid,’ 

‘You better not,’ Your smile dropped and you glared at your older sister, ‘If you somehow manage to mess up perfection, it’ll be the last thing you do,’ You tried to threaten her instead Steph laughed out loudly at you.

‘You don’t have an intimidating bone in your body, you’re too cute,’ Steph poked your nose with the brush she had in her hand making you scrunch your nose up and even further prove her point.

‘Older sister bias,’ You rolled your eyes, swatting her hand away from poking you on the nose with the brush again.

‘Nah the girls will agree with me, I’ll ask them tonight,’ Pushing Steph lightly you reached past her taking another shot of vodka.

‘Gonna need the whole bottle to put up with you,’ The two of you laughed even more, somehow managing to get yourselves ready between the constant back and forth banter you’d started.

Though you were the last two to arrive, Steph dragged you out of the house before you could change your outfit for the thousandth time while complaining about how you couldn’t bring Calvin to the club with you. Your already half drunk self trying to set up a solid plan on how you could create a dog friendly club. 

Steph had no idea what you were going on about but was grateful to make it to the club and pass you off to Kyra, knowing she was one of the only people who could make sense of you. As soon as you entered you saw the rest of the girls, though your eyes scanned through looking for the one person you wanted to see the most.

The alcohol already flowing through your body didn’t help one bit when your eyes landed on Kyra, especially seeing her next to Lia. It felt like time had stopped and your body was frozen in place when you saw Kyra laugh at something she had said. 

Taking a deep breath you tore your eyes away, pushed everything down, put the smile that had dropped slightly back on your face and walked yourself to the opposite end of the group, as far away from Kyra as you could.

Your sister furrowed her eyebrows watching you not greet your best friend and, instead, joining the group that she had joined moments before you. Something was a bit off but Steph couldn’t put her finger on it. Shaking her head she decided to let it go for tonight, letting herself not worry about you, tomorrow would be a different story.

‘My sister here, thinks she’s intimidating,’ Steph voiced out, not letting go to prove her point that the other girls would agree with her.

‘You’re joking?’ Katie laughed out raising her eyebrow turning to look at you, ‘Everyone would laugh if you tried to intimidate them,’ 

‘You’re the least intimidating person I know, mate,’ Leah joined in the conversation, handing you a drink then putting her arm around your shoulder, ‘Oh cheer up, you’re cute and endearing. You don’t need to look tough when you have that,’ Leah squeezed your arm, you rolled your eyes and a small smile formed on your lips.

‘When I’m back on the pitch I’ll show you,’ You mumbled into your drink, knowing no one at the table would ever find you intimidating. Thankfully the conversation naturally shifted away from you being the focus, allowing you to relax beside Leah.

If it wasn’t a night where everyone was allowed to completely let loose, the other girls would probably be concerned with how much you were drinking. Your behaviour wasn’t completely unusual, especially for a night out, but it was still slightly out of the ordinary.

Every time you heard her laugh, every time you looked up and saw how she was unaffected by your absence around her that she seemed, you drowned your feelings with even more alcohol. It wasn’t healthy but at least it could mute how much you were feeling, how much you were feeling towards Kyra. 

Kyra could have other friends, you were never jealous over that. But the possibility of her liking someone, someone that wasn’t you, didn’t sit well with you. Dealing with your emotions could be done another day, it wasn’t your problem for today. You wanted to have fun and you knew you had to get further away from the group to properly ignore Kyra and Lia the rest of the night.

However, the moment you walked in, Kyra did notice that you were here. It was comical how Kyra visibly perked up at the sight of you. A smile tugged at the corner of her lips, making sure to not be too noticeable in her happiness towards you finally showing up, ‘You can finally stop checking the door every few seconds,’ Lia leant in joking around quietly to Kyra causing her to take her eyes off of you and laugh at Lia’s teasing. 

Just happened that the moment you spotted Kyra was the one time she wasn’t already looking at you and instead engaged in a conversation with Lia. Kyra expected you to come over to her and then you could’ve spent the night together, like you both had planned. She felt your presence disappear and saw that you had joined the group of girls that wasn’t with her. 

Lia frowned watching Kyra visibly deflate, ‘She’ll come over, probably just saying hi to everyone first,’ Lia tried to cheer Kyra up. It worked for the most part until Kyra realised that you weren’t coming over to her. She didn’t know if she had done something wrong or something to upset you. 

Before Kyra could get lost in her thoughts, Lia kept prompting her and engaging her within the conversation with the other girls around them. Trying to keep her away from thinking about you and your weird behaviour towards her, just wanting Kyra to enjoy her night.

No matter how much Lia tried to cheer Kyra up, it never fully worked. Kyra kept sneaking glances your way. She would watch the way you were interacting with others, mostly with Leah, any hopes that she had of you liking her the same way she liked you were quite low now. But even just as a friend, the way you were acting had Kyra overthinking. In the years you’ve known each other neither of you have fully ignored the other's presence. Kyra was mostly just worried about you instead of upset with you.

‘Le, come dance with me,’ You suddenly stood up and tugged at Leah’s arm trying to drag her to the dance floor with you.

‘You sure that’s a good idea?’ Leah noticed how much you were drinking and had stopped herself from drinking more so she could keep an eye on you. Leah also cared for you and your injury, overhearing within the locker room she knew how much being off the pitch and not playing had impacted you and didn’t want you to do something to keep you out longer.

‘Le,’ You whined, ‘I’m off crutches now, I can dance. Stop worrying,’ Glancing up towards Kyra’s direction, you made eye contact briefly before you successfully managed to get Leah up and moving with you, putting even more distance between you and Kyra.

It felt like Kyra spent most of the night watching you from afar. If she was more confident in herself she would’ve gone over to the dance floor and taken you away from Leah. In her mind that’s what she did, if it wasn’t a night out where everyone else would be watching her actions and the potential of outing her feelings for you and if it wasn’t with Leah then Kyra would’ve definitely taken you away and had you dance with her instead.

‘Let’s go get another drink,’ Lia’s voice brought Kyra back to reality. Taking a deep breath Kyra agreed and followed Lia towards the bar, ‘Leah doesn’t like her like that and I’m pretty sure they’re just having fun,’ They opted to sit at the bar and sip on their drinks there instead of going back to the others.

‘Why didn’t she come and see me though?’ Kyra glanced back your way, watching you dancing with Leah. Leah’s hands on your waist and your arms wrapped around her neck, Kyra wishing that it was her instead of Leah. But if anyone didn’t know, they would think you and Leah were together with the way you were dancing all over each other, well with the way you were dancing all over Leah trying to not think about anything other than getting lost in the music.

‘I think you need to talk to her. Not tonight, no. Another day. Tell her everything, communicate with her,’ Lia’s advice scared Kyra. Scared of the possibility of rejection. Scared to lose her friendship with you by saying the wrong things. You were a big part of Kyra’s life and to have the potential to ruin it all scared her more than anything else ever has. More than when she first moved away from home to play overseas.

‘There’s my favourite pest,’ The voice Kyra dreaded hearing tonight coming from Steph, ‘Everything all right?’ Steph’s head nodded in your direction while talking to Kyra.

‘Yeah, I just didn’t feel like dancing,’ Kyra sighed. Steph could tell that wasn’t the truth, she hadn’t seen her sister interact with Kyra all night. A stark difference from how you and Kyra were acting in the locker room just yesterday. The silent exchange between Lia and Steph had the older girl not pushing her friend any further. Instead, Steph put her arm around Kyra and pulled her in for a brief hug. Hoping to make her feel a little better, making a note to talk to you about everything tomorrow.

You saw Lia and Kyra head to the bar together and continued to get even more lost in the music. Pushing yourself further into Leah, though in the back of your mind you were pretending Leah was Kyra. But you convinced yourself Kyra was with Lia and she didn’t want or need you anymore. Your mind failing to keep the irrational thoughts pushed down, letting them all come to the surface and pushing down any rational line of thinking.

A mix of the alcohol, the endless thoughts and the music pumping through your ears, your head started spinning. Feeling uneasy and quite dizzy you ended up stumbling a few times. Luckily, Leah’s hands were already on your waist managing to keep you upright and not letting you make a fool of yourself.

‘Do you want me to take you home?’ Leah whispered in your ear, knowing you weren’t doing alright when she felt your head rest on her shoulder and your body stop moving. With a small nod, Leah had the two of you heading towards where Steph was, still at the bar with Kyra and Lia. As soon as you saw Kyra and Lia it felt like something inside of you took over and you tried to act more put together than you were feeling. 

‘I’m gonna take her home,’ Leah semi shouted over the music to Steph. You weren’t focused on their brief conversation instead you looked towards the other two. Suddenly your arm was wrapped around Leah, pulling her closer to you while you had a slight smirk on your lips. Your other hand moved to rest on top of Leah’s that was resting on your waist, playing with her fingers a little bit.

Part of you wanted her to feel the same way you felt every time you saw those two together tonight. You were feeling so much you felt like you were going to burst. Everything felt confusing and you weren’t sure how to process exactly what you were feeling but you knew that you hated it. You hated it and you hated Kyra for making you feel like this. But you really didn’t hate her. You love Kyra and you hate yourself for only realising it now. You hate yourself for realising you love her when she’s clearly got someone else.

You hate how your head won’t stop spinning, how everything doesn’t make sense. Part of you hates that you caught feelings for your best friend. But you love the way Kyra always makes you feel. You love the way she makes you feel safe, the way you can be completely yourself and you’ll never feel judged. You hate yourself for making things messy in your own head. You hate that you’ll never be able to tell her, that you’ll have to go on pretending until these feelings stop.

You love Kyra. But you hate that you love her the way that you do. But you love that you love her. Nothing makes sense and everything feels wrong but right at the same time. You wish you could curl up in a ball under your covers until everything suddenly made sense, until everything felt completely right again. 

Avoiding feelings, avoiding hard situations was what you did best. It was easier. Drinking was supposed to make it easier to forget everything for one night, instead it did the opposite and caused you to confront your feelings rather than hide from them. 

You were too far gone in your head to realise that you had made it back to Steph’s apartment, the place you called home for now. It was only when you felt a lack of warmth from Leah that you noticed your surroundings. The feeling of the cold air sending chills through your body. You wrapped your arms around yourself, you didn’t want to be left by yourself. Not when all you’d do is torture yourself with your own thoughts.

‘Did you want me to-’ You cut Leah off, catching her and yourself off guard when you cupped her cheeks and pressed your lips against hers. You didn’t know why you did it, you just wanted to be close to someone. You want your mind to stop and you don't know how to do that. This was the first thing you thought of. Thinking before you act isn't your best quality.

Leah’s hands gently pushed at your shoulders, causing you to separate from her. You kept your eyes closed afraid she would be mad at you, afterall you did just push yourself onto her. You were overwhelmed with emotions when you opened your eyes and Leah was staring at you with concern etched on her face.

‘I’m sorry,’ Tears sprung to your eyes but you did your best to hold them back, not wanting to let what was inside you out.

‘Tiny, what’s going on? Are you okay?’ Leah instantly pulled you into a hug when the tears you tried to keep back came streaming down your face. Everything within you felt like it had exploded, everything around you felt like it was going to crumble away from you. You wanted it to stop.

‘I don’t know,’ 

[nayedoll]

Do or drink

joost klein x reader

summary : you and joost dislike each other before an unexpected kiss during a ‘do or drink’ game makes you rethink your feelings.

warnings : kind of enemies to lovers, mostly fluff, smut(?) if you squint A LOT.

_______________________________________________

“You know what, i’m gonna say it.” your friend jokingly said. “I think you and Joost would make a good couple if you stopped acting like babies” she added and hid behind your other friend as you grabbed a pillow and threw it at her.

“Oh my god, do not ever say that again” you yelled and they laughed at your exaggerated reaction.

“No but why do you guys hate each other sooo much to begin with?!” your friend asked and that caught you off guard.

In complete honesty, there was no reason for your shared hatred with Joost. From the first moment you were introduced to him, you had made your resentment for him very clear, responding sarcastically and rolling your eyes to everything he said. But he wasn’t any better himself. The memory of him straight up ignoring your offer for a handshake still got to you, revitalizing your distaste for him.

Eventually your friends accepted your rivalry, as it wasn’t affecting the rest of them, even making it an inside joke. Ironically enough, you spent most of your time with Joost during friends gatherings, the two of you always bickering about the littlest things. In a way you found it fun, often teasing him out of boredom and vice versa. Besides there was an undeniable attraction for one another, one that none of you were ready to admit yet.

However, things slightly changed when your half-drunk friend got the idea to play ‘do or drink’ at a house party. Naturally as the game progressed and you all got more drunk, the questions became wilder.

“Y/n” your friend said with a smirk and you jokingly sighed worried about what would follow.

“I dare you to kiss Joost” she said and all your friends started laughing and staring intently between the two of you. You turned to look at Joost who was staring right back at you grinning.

“So?” your friend insisted and you felt your cheeks burn, thankful that the blush on them could be justified by all the drinks you’d had.

“Oh don’t push her. I’m probably her first” Joost teased, smiling even brighter when he saw how furious his comment had made you.

“No I’ll do it” you responded and he nodded satisfied. You got up to sit next to him on the couch before he brought you to his lap without warning.

“Ready?” he asked with a smug expression.

“Shut up” you whispered and leaned in to kiss him. Your mouths collided passionately, both of you getting carried away and forgetting about all your friends watching. One of your hands started playing with his hair as you felt his hands moving to your ass. Your kiss was quickly interrupted by Apson telling you to get a room. As your friends moved on with the game, you got off Joost’s lap now sitting awkwardly next to him, not saying a word.

Things remained awkward between you and Joost for some time. The kiss had brought out newfound feelings for him, leaving you confused and constantly longing for his touch. You went from arguing non-stop to barely making eye contact in hopes that he wouldn’t notice you blush, though you knew that at some point you’d have to confront him.

After a few days, you found yourself at your apartment’s rooftop with Joost and a few more friends, drinking and chatting. The sun was about to set, offering a beautiful view of Amsterdam in red and yellow hues. You kept glancing at Joost a couple times as the light breeze made his blonde hair messy. You couldn’t help but think how his hair would look waking up next to him as the warm sun rays caress his face.

“I’m so bored” your friend’s voice interrupted your thoughts bringing you back to reality.

“Does anyone wanna go clubbing tonight pretty please?” she added dragging the sound of the last word to convince everyone. Your friends agreed, never turning down an opportunity to party and drink. Your friend turned to you giving you doe eyes.

“I’m not in the mood” you said laughing and she rolled her eyes in response.

“Joost?” she asked and you awaited his answer anxiously.

“Uhh, I don’t feel like going out either” he looked at you at the last word with a subtle smile, the nicest he’d ever given you.

“Whatever” your friend mumbled as she and the rest got up and quickly left to get ready.

All that remained now was an uncomfortable silence that made you realize you’d never been left alone with Joost in the two years you had known him.

“Want a cigarette?” he asked breaking the silence. You turned your gaze to him and nodded as he inched closer to you. The sudden proximity between you caused your cheeks to burn, your knees slightly touching. As he passed you a cigarette, his fingers brushed yours sending shivers down your spine and you heard him laugh to himself.

“What?” you smiled and he took a drag before turning to look at you.

“Nothing, I just never thought we would be smoking together on a roof top” he admitted and you chuckled at the irony.

“Neither did I” you replied admiring what was left of the sunset in front of you. The small moment of bonding between you gave you enough courage to speak again.

“Can I ask you something?” you said and he nodded softly.

“When we…” you trailed off trying to think of a way to say what you wanted. “When we um- kissed” you continued, noticing the slight smirk on his lips at the mention of you kissing, “did you like it?”.

He stayed quiet for a moment and you internally slapped yourself from the embarrassment of the situation.

“Yeah” he finally answered and you bit your lip trying to fight back a smile. He noticed you avoiding eye contact and chuckled.

“You’re really cute when you get shy, y’know?” he lightly brushed your hair out of the way as you turned to look at him, the blush on your cheeks definitely visible now. His eyes flicked back and forth between your eyes and lips as he brought his hand on your cheek softly caressing it with his thumb.

“Kiss me” you muttered and he obliged, crashing his lips with yours. He slowly lied down to the ground, bringing you on top of him, your legs straddling him. You slowly started grinding down on his thigh, the sensation making you moan into the kiss.

He smiled and pulled away, placing small kisses on your neck and biting there. His hand that was previously on your hair moved towards your inner thigh at an excruciatingly slow speed that made you whine.

“Please” you mumbled and he laughed.

“Never thought you’d be begging me” he whispered in your ear and continued sucking on your neck, as he lifted your skirt and put his hand near your panties.

Suddenly, he removed his hand and pulled back from your neck causing you to whine in confusion.

“What?” you asked clearly annoyed.

“I’m sorry” he said and put his hands on your waist holding you in place. “I just don’t want to rush things” he kissed your forehead and you smiled at the thought of him wanting to take things slow, finding it cute.

“Is this you punishing me for being a bitch for two years straight?” you joked and he pulled you into a sweet embrace.

The sky was dark by now with many stars shining above you as you cuddled. You slowly drifted off to sleep listening to the sound of his heartbeat and the distant music coming from the city’s night life. Joost placed a peck on your hair before also falling asleep.

“Goodnight mijn meisje”

[pia-nor481]

okay so this is personally what i think some of the driver's kinks are:

Max Verstappen: a huge praise kink

Lewis Hamilton: sir kink

Lando norris and Charles Leclerc : mommy kink ig🤭

Carlos Sainz: a huge ego and a huge daddy kink

Daniel Ricciardo: somnopholia or like fuckin someone in their sleep

Alex Albon and Logan Sargeant: gotta be overstimulation (both giving and receiving end)

and that's all I could think of as of right now you can mix them up a little and feel free to use them ideas

love you<33

MV: he loves receiving praise so much. He wants to hear how well he makes her feel, how well he’s doing. It can be as simple as “So good Max.” Or something extremely specific that he does. He also enjoys giving praise, especially when it’s trying something new. “Such a good girl, so perfect for me.” Or “look at you, taking me so well.”

LH: perhaps this has stemmed from the knighthood. “So, Sir Lewis Hamilton.” He didn’t expect her voice to affect him so much. Slowly it developed into a reoccurring title in the bedroom. “Yes Sir, I’ll be good I promise. I’ll do everything you say.” It really gets him off now. So anytime someone reminded him of that title he smiles to himself, thinking about her.

CL: he lets it slip one night. Maybe after a long few race weekends he just wants to relax, let her take control. “That’s it Charles, lie back, let me take care of you.” He lets out a quiet sigh and closes his eyes enjoying the feeling of her on top, and around him. “Please mommy, faster.” Even he was shocked that he said it, eyes shot open, expecting her to be angry. Charles wanted to tell her at some point, he was just unsure of when. She began rocking her hips faster. “That’s it Charles, be good for Mommy.”

LN: now, one evening Lando put all his cards on the table and decided to tell her everything he was into, and I mean everything. It was overwhelming to start, but she knew his intentions, he didn’t want to get too attached then reveal something that could have been a dealbreaker. He didn’t want his heart broken. One thing with Lando, is that he likes to be on top. “Yes Mommy, you feel so good…Please can I cum please.” Sometimes he will just walk up behind her, arms tight around her waist as he buries his face into her neck. “Mommy, I need you.”

CS: Now let me tell you, this man likes to DOMINATE. He actually refers to himself as daddy quite often, even outside of the bedroom. “You can cum one more time…that’s it come for daddy.” He’s always so casual about it as well.

DR: he’s the first one to ask, he was talking about really wanting to be woken up by getting head. He wasn’t expecting it to feel so good, the only thing he could think about or feel is pleasure, and it was one of the best ways to wake up. After he’s cum down her throat, he couldn’t help but express his enjoyment, and it made her slightly jealous. So he offered, one day as he wanted to keep it a surprise, that she’d experience the same pleasure. And oh was he right

Williams: so they both want to cum dry, usually about 4 or 5 orgasms and the excitement of it just pushes him closer to the edge each time. So after 2/3 it becomes hard to think, almost in a haze. Cock become so sensitive he’d have to push you’re hand or mouth away as it’s all too much. On the other hand, he’d just love to see her squirming with how much pleasure he’d given her. Begging him to stop because he’s just too good.

Hey love, sorry this took so long. Anytime I tried to write the universe said “no ideas for you.”

I hope you’re doing well and thank you for sending in ideas xx

[cloudcountry]

SUMMARY: people say suffering is what it means to be a shroud. you could not think more different.

WARNINGS: mentions of blood & self mutilation.

COMMENTS: PHEW THIS ONE WAS A DOOZY!!! idia stop being my muse pls 🙏🙏 i keep writing 2k - 3k word fics in one sitting because of you

“Don’t you wish the world treated him better?”

You blink, entranced by the swirls of green. The voice beckons you closer.

How was that door open...? It should have been closed, right...?

“Don’t you wish you three could live up on the surface, like everyone else?”

More voices have joined.

“Don’t you want that for him and his brother?”

It sounds beautiful, like a symphony.

“This is what it means to be a Shroud.”

You step closer, muscles relaxing as you slip under their spell. The voices are right. They deserved better. They should have been able to live where they pleased, to escape this island and their fate.

The voices giggle—they know they’re right.

They’ve reached you.

Black consumes your vision, blocking out the glowing green. You shut your eyes. Your world grows darker. There's a seizing in your chest and a fluttering in your heart as something pours into your body, staining you.

“This is what it means to be a Shroud.”

“Set us free, and we’ll set all of you free.”

—

The hallways are blaring red, but all Idia sees is the floor swimming in his vision. Ortho is by his side as he punches access code after access code into the door panels, running like he’s never run before. He has a stitch in his side but he keeps going, your face flashing in his mind.

He lost Ortho once. He’s not losing someone again.

It’s like the stairs last forever, winding deeper and deeper into the Earth. Idia doesn’t stop running once, even though he feels like he’s going to fall over and throw up. He’s almost one-hundred percent certain Ortho has carried him at some point but his mind is too messy and his vision is too muddled to care.

Time seems to slow as he reaches the bottom. He raises his head as his ears ring, and the second he lays eyes on you it’s like his vision is clear again. Ink pours out of you and the black markings on your face are all too familiar. Blue fire spits out from behind you and your shrieks are heartbreaking, like you’re wailing for something you want so badly but could never have. Wings sprout from your back, broken and crooked, feathers twisted and clumped. Your hands are worn and bloody from stretching at the walls, and that’s when Idia realizes—

You want to be free.

Guilt crashes over him and it's a critical hit. Of course. He should have been sure this is what you wanted. He should have known you’d get sick of life here, even though you said you loved him time and time again, even though you held him on all those nights that he couldn’t sleep because the thoughts were too much, even though you bonded with Ortho and stepped back for him, letting him set boundaries even though that meant not doing things you wanted to do, like holding his hand or kissing his forehead or playing with his hair.

He should have known this wasn’t the life you wanted.

The ring on his finger feels like nothing more than a heavy stone now.

—

It took years for Idia to open up to you about his family situation. In fact, he seemed to be braced for the possibility that you’d leave him in a heartbeat after hearing it. Your heart ached for him when he explained his past and his inevitable future in a soft, low voice, rushing through the whole thing as if it was the scariest thing he’s ever done.

You placed your hand on his knee once he stopped, letting his words trail off into the night.

“I understand you.” you’d said, looking him straight in the eyes. They seemed to glow in the darkness of his room, flickering like a fire about to be put out.

Idia curled in on himself that night, dragging a clump of his hair over his shoulder and twisting it into knots. You’d reached over and gently grabbed his hands, stopping him from tangling his precious hair. You’d gently smoothed out the fiery strands before kneeling in front of him, looking up at him as if paying him reverence.

“I want to stay with you.” you’d said softly, cradling his shaking, fragile hands in yours.

In that moment, it felt like his very heart was beating between your intertwined hands.

Soft sniffles filled the room that night, and you kissed each tear away. More kept coming, more and more and more, his eyes blotchy and red as he tried to keep quiet. You kept quiet too, whispering how much you cared about him and how if he would let you, you’d stay with him forever because you loved him and he deserved someone by his side. You kissed each tear well into the night, fighting his overwhelming sorrow with your love.

—

Your memories are patchy. It’s like you don’t remember who you are, or where you are. In the dark expanse of your mind, you remember two things.

Idia Shroud and Ortho Shroud.

Your throat feels heavy as your heart starts to palpate—what happened? Where is the green glow? Where are all the comforting voices that whispered your new future to you?

Where were the people you were fighting for?

“Vitals stable.” a faraway voice calls, a sharp clatter piercing through your quiet, inky haze, “Commencing full body scan for blot.”

Blot...

Your eyelids pry themselves open. All the energy has been sapped from your body, your limbs heavy and useless. The strings holding them up have been cut, and it's scary that you can’t remember how you were strung up in the first place.

“Mx, we ask that you please stay still.” the man above you is in a white coat, his hands holding a clipboard and a pen.

You nod passively. Something about him seems familiar enough.

His voice drones on statistics about your well being as your eyes slip shut again, and arms of sludge reach out from your mind and pull you back under the ink, into a deep sleep.

—

Idia is chewing on his fingernails again.

He wishes you were here to scold him for it and paint a new coat over them so he wouldn’t chew on them anymore, being too sentimental to mess up your hard work and too repulsed by the taste, even though he would only ever tell you the latter and—

You were still asleep.

Your vitals are stable, You are fine.

You are fine but there are still black scars all over your body.

Your vitals are stable but the marks will stay there forever.

You almost died and it’s his fault.

You want freedom and he took that away when he said “I do.”

He kissed you and he sucked the soul right out of your body, keeping it clutched in his hands because he’s selfish and stupid and why in the world did you even fall in love with him in the first place?

He has nothing to offer you.

Nothing but this.

Suffering and loneliness and contempt and headaches and cold nights and machines that fill your whole day, leaving no room for the whimsical leisure you enjoyed before. There are no more board games, no more trips to the school store, no more fresh air and nighttime walks, no more watching movies and eating gummy worms, no more talking to anyone who isn’t him.

The ring on his finger burns.

—

You don’t know how long it's been since you went to sleep.

You wake up to a room with dark walls and metallic shelves above your head. The bed (cot?) is firm underneath your body, which is adorned by a gray uniform. There’s a desk right across from you with a tablet and a chair. You can’t see anything it’s hooked up to. The one constant among all of these things seems to be the triangular details, criss-crossing and curving and connecting with each other.

They make your vision spin, so you look away.

You stay in bed.

For some reason your face and neck sting, as does your back. You trace the parts of your face that burn, finding that the areas are almost symmetrical on both sides.

What happened?

“...Idia?” you whisper, your left hand resting over your smoothly beating heart.

The door opens.

Your heart lurches into your throat when you see a dark uniform, fiery blue hair that swings well past his elbows, and eyes that are sunken in. His skin is as pale as ever, his lips chapped and bitten by worry, his nails stubbed and torn, but—

He came.

But it’s him.

He came when you called.

“...Idia—!” you gasp, choking on your words as you lurch forward and cough, black ink splattering all over your gray shirt.

“Easy!” he yelps, rushing to your side. You feel his cold hand press against your back and you lean into the touch, starved for it.

“What happened?” you ask between smaller coughs, following his hand and he lays you back down.

Idia bites his lip. He does not answer.

Instead, he turns his back to you and moves over to the desk grabbing the tablet. He still doesn’t look at you as he taps a few bottoms. He gnaws on his lower lip before twisting the chair to face you and sitting down.

“How much do you remember?” he counters your question with another question, eyes heavier than usual.

“I remember green.” you whisper, the intriguing whispers poking into the corners of your mind again, “I remember voices...they said sweet things to me.”

Idia winces as if that’s the last thing he wants to hear.

“You overblotted.” he says, so blunt it surprises both of you, “You went...deeper than you should have, and you overblotted.”

You touch your face. The burning sensation wiggles as if it’s been recognized, and is pleased. It’s like there's something under your skin, something alive and yearning,that was waiting for him to say it.

“Oh.” you whisper, and in turn, the voices begin to beckon you again.

“This is what it means to be a Shroud. Don’t you wish you three could live up on the surface, like everyone else? It’s not fair, is it? He deserves better. His brother deserves better. You all do. We can help you, we can make that happen, you just have to help us—”

“They were phantoms.” you breathe, tracing the lines on your face over and over and over and over and over—

You don't notice when he gets up and reaches for you. Idia grabs your hand when it looks like you’re pressing too hard, your nails digging into your skin. You stop immediately, looking up at him with glossy eyes and trembling lips.

“Idia...is this what it means to be a Shroud?” you ask, forming each word carefully.

The phantoms said as much.

But he says nothing.

“I don’t blame you if you decided this isn’t what you want, you know.” he says, tone flat and disinterested, like you’re someone he doesn’t even know.

“What do you mean?”

“Your phantom looked like it wanted to be free.” he says, tablet still in his hand.

He pulls up the footage of your rage and shows it to you—your crooked, clumped wings and your bloody, inky hands and your screams as you cry for freedom, freedom—

He misunderstands.

“Not for me!” you seize his wrist, squeezing it so hard you fear it’ll break but this important, “For you! Freedom for you! It’s always you and it always will be you! I wanted you to be free and Ortho to be free. I wanted all of us to be free—!”

You start coughing again, this time even harder. Ink splatters on your bed and this time Idia is on you, he’s truly with you, cradling you against his chest as the ink stains his uniform as well. It pours out of you like a dead, polluted river, and yet in a twisted way it’s a symbol of how much you care.

You vaguely feel his nose pressing against your head in the haze, whispering what sounds like swears and pleads but none of it reaches your ears over the sound of your coughing. By the time you’re done, both of you are thoroughly painted with the remnants of blot.

The voices are gone.

“I’m so glad you’re okay.” he whispers it into your head like it's a confession, meant for your ears and your ears only, “I thought you...wanted to leave here. Leave me.”

His arms are around you like a vice grip.

You’re grateful you’re alive to see him be selfish.

“Idia...my love.” you say, equally as soft, “How many times do I have to tell you that I want to be with you?”

“It’s hard to believe!” he protests, voice cracking.

He pulls away from you, just enough to look over your face. His eyes are watery and he’s so vulnerable—you really scared him. His thumb traces down the parts of your face that burned, the parts of your face you know will be scarred for life now.

“Good thing I’m still here then.” you smile weakly, cupping his face, “I’ll remind you every single day.”

His ring no longer burns.

His left hand rests over your left, and your rings clink together as they connect.

You’re okay. You still want him. You’re alive.

“You’re crazy.” Idia groans, stepping forward and falling into your arms, “You are absolutely crazy. Any normal person would be running for their life right now, calling me a freak and hyperventilating. A normal person would never want to come back—”

His slumps over you like a big cat, arms encircling you in warmth once again. It’s his way of hiding his expression when he’s getting a bit too into his feelings—you know this by now.

“Goodness. It’s a good thing I’m madly in love with you then.” you laugh, hands splayed out on his shoulder blades as he hugs you again, “You know what they say about love making you do crazy things.”

“Please don’t ever do that again—oh Great Seven.” he squeezes you even tighter and you let him, putty in his hands.

“I’m not planning on it. I promise.”  you reassure him, “I don't want to leave you—”

“It’s not about leaving me, you could have died!” he protests, cradling the back of your head, “I’d be fine if you just left! If you were somewhere else...somewhere safe!”

“You would not be okay with that. Don’t pretend to be.” you chastise him quietly, and you know you’ve won when he goes quiet, “You want to keep me here, and you want me to stay. I want the same thing. You don’t have to pretend I’m a sacrifice that can be made. I didn’t fall in love with you because you’re noble or a goody-goody.”

He doesn’t say anything for a few moments. Then—

“I love you so much.” he mumbles.

It’s a rare confession, one that has never lost his sweetness even after years together.

Now this, this is what it means to be a Shroud.

It means staying with each other no matter what.

It couldn't be farther from loneliness.

“I love you too.” you murmur back, and his thumbs trace your blot scars as he presses a single, barely noticeable kiss to your forehead.

[munsonson]

Blurb

Sunshine!Reader x Eddie Angst

She finds him eventually, leaned up against his locker with something crinkled in his hands. His hair, unkempt as it always was, drowned him in its essence, hiding his face from her. She smiles, running up to him with her familiar smile.

“Hey, Eds,” she greets, “did you want to go to that milkshake place after all?”

He doesn’t answer. In fact, he doesn’t move at all. Her eyebrows knit together in concern. She hesitantly brings up a hand to tap him on the shoulder.

“Eds? Hey, you okay?” she asks.

He looks up at her at last. He’s smiling, too, but there’s something strange about it. It was like he was forcing it. Those dimples that she always admired weren’t there. His eyes were still brown, but they didn’t crinkle at the ends. He crumples the paper in his hands even more.

“Can I ask you something, Y/N?”

It startles her when he uses her actual name instead of ‘princess’. She decides not to question it.

“Yeah?”

“Why are you trying to hard to be my friend?”

She was confused. “Huh?”

“Why are you trying so hard to be my friend?”

She was sure he was upset now, if his tone was any indication. He couldn’t possible be angry with her, could he? Did she do something wrong? Did Jonathan tip him off that she was going to ask him out tonight? Maybe she was overstepping her boundaries.

“Um, well I…I don’t really understand the question. I thought we were friends,” she says at last. That wasn’t the answer he was looking for. Now he was balling up the paper and he actually tossed it at her. It hits her forehead unceremoniously before falling to her feet. It was such a silly moment she nearly laughed. But he wasn’t. He was still forcing a smile.

“You know what I think? I think it’s time we put everything out on the table, really…examine what’s been going on here, you know?” he said. “See, I’ve made it pretty alarmingly clear that most people tend to avoid me, to the point I’m essentially Moses parting the goddam sea of jocks, cheerleaders, and even the burnouts. But for some reason…you won’t budge.”

She tilts her head. “Because I’m your friend.”

“No, it’s because I’m your charity case.” Eddie sneers. He’s not smiling anymore. “It all makes sense, I guess. Can’t find any friends outside of the pervy photographer, so you run off to take your chance with the freak, the super senior.”

“Hey,” she says, offended now. “Please don’t talk about Jonathan like that. And I don’t think you’re a freak, Eddie, what are you talking about?”

“Do you not see the people you surround yourself with?” he asks, incredulous. “Jonathan Byers, the alleged murderer turned non murderer who likes to take pictures of naked unaware chicks. And myself, who’s too stupid for graduation and too stupid to realize he’s been wasting his time on someone who wants to wipe the notion of witchy bitch off her back she’ll find two objectively worse guys just to feel better about herself.”

She had tears gathering in her eyes.

“Why are you saying all of this, Eddie? What is wrong with you?” she asks. Her voice cracks.

“Because I’m done with people using me. Alright? So do me a favor, come next year, put me in your rearview mirror. Just leave me alone,” he snaps, brushing by her.

She watches him. Her heart felt sore and heavy, her stomach nauseated and prepared to empty itself from how upset she was. Did Eddie really think she’d only befriended him to make herself look better by comparison? How could he do that? How could he throw what Jonathan did in her face? She’d told him that in confidence, not for him to weaponize it against her.

She fell into the lockers, the echoing slam not enough to deafen the sounds of her cries as she slid down onto the tiled floor. What could she do now? Should she tell Jonathan what happened, ask what she should do next?

She spots the tiny crumpled piece of paper beside her and picks it up. He’d been reading this when she approached.

Unraveling it and trying her best to smooth out the page, she reads it over. Startled, she quickly rereads it again.

It was for the parent or guardian of Eddie, explaining he’d have to repeat this term over again. He wasn’t graduating. That was why he was so upset.

Despite the words and insults he threw at her, she was still tempted to find him again and hug him. This was clearly what had him so depressed, not her. He was just letting his anger out. Even if that wasn’t right, she found it easier to forgive him now.

But she didn’t want to make him more mad. If avoiding her next year made him feel better about the whole ordeal, she’d oblige him.

[artyandink]

that’s my man (and my woman)

Summary: Your kids are curious little buggers. Asking questions about everything and anything under the sun. So there comes the complications of when your kids ask you if you’ve fallen in love before. How will you explain everything? Time to put your imagination to use.

A/N - I’ve been putting out a lot of sexy fics recently. Why not some fluff?

Song Inspo: Style - Taylor Swift and Perfect - Ed Sheeran

It took so long just to get two human beings to eat breakfast.

“Charlie, Sam, breakfast!” You called up the stairs, sighing after you did. Your hands were on your hips in true mom fashion, and disbelief and faux-regret was your adrenaline high this time as you wondered why exactly you had kids. That you loved to death despite their poor eating schedule. “Come on, I made pancakes.”

The thundering of little feet on the stairs told you that you had two incoming hurricanes.

Your seven year old boy, Sam, and your five year old girl, Charlie, appeared at the bottom of the stairs with broad smiles, crashing into you for a bear hug that knocked the wind out of your sails. You laughed as you hugged them back, giving a few pats of their head each. “Hey, there. Ready for breakfast?”

“Is there syrup?” Charlie asked eagerly, running and hopping into a high chair, grabbing her plate of pancakes and bringing it to her with a familiar lick of her lips and happy, twitchy grin. Sam had gotten his father’s hair, while Charlie had gotten yours. But the eyes were swapped around, and it was always a point of laughing. Not one child could be more like one or the other.

Arguably, both kids had their father’s dimples and smile. So yes, he could stake his claim.

“And whipped cream?” Sam added with a toothy grin.

“Raspberries?”

“Blueberries?”

You shook your head with a chuckle; such chatterboxes. You opened the fridge and a cabinet, getting out the maple syrup, whipped cream and strawberries. “Not too much, ok?” You passed the toppings to them, and with a chorused ‘yes, mom’, they proceeded to completely disregard your orders. It made you shake your head again, huffing out a breath when all sense of scolding them disappeared once you saw the golden morning light hitting their little heads as they squealed and laughed.

Kids. You loved them to bits.

“Mom,” Charlie asked through a bite of pancake and whipped cream that smeared over her mouth, “have you ever loved someone before?”

The question startled you slightly, but you grabbed a kitchen towel, cleaning her lips with a soft smile as she shied away with a shriek of delight, little bunches waving about wildly. “Course I have, sweetie. But only once.”

“Ooh, tell me, tell me!” She giggled, while Sam cringed a little, muttering a small ‘gross’ that got a sharp glare and pout from Charlie. Out of care for his little sister, he shut himself up.

You took a slow breath in to give yourself time to think, leaning on the counter and putting down the paper towel. “Well, it started a long time ago. When I was twenty six, all young.”

“That’s old.” Sam wrinkled his nose in confusion. You scoffed lightly, because it damn wasn’t, but he was just a kid.

“Behave, Samuel.” You ruffled his hair with a laugh. “We met at my old job. 4th October, 2006. He had his brother with him. Now, I thought he was trouble. He had a leather jacket and one of those really fancy, loud cars and he was very popular with girls.” You reached out to tickle Charlie’s side, which had her squeaking. “But he was likeable, and charming, so I wanted to bump into him more often.”

“Was he cool?” Sam perked up, suddenly very interested. “He sounds cool.”

You pinched his chin affectionately. “The coolest. But our job was very tiring. We went through a lot of big stuff, like I told you in your bedtime stories. There would be vampires and werewolves and fairies of all kinds, but he and I would always save the day. And if we didn’t, we’d save the next day.”

“You saved the world!” Charlie exclaimed, making an aeroplane with a pancake bite on her fork. The action sent a flutter of warmth and love through your chest. For your family. Something you thought you’d never have.

You nodded, guiding the bite to her mouth gently before your hyperactive child sent the fork flying. “That’s right, gumdrop. We saved the world.” It was like telling a story, of you and your prince. “I couldn’t help but love him. He’d call me sweetheart and hold me tight. He’d look at me with a wide smile on his face, just for me. And he told me I was the one he was looking for.”

“That’s corny.” Sam piped up, but he also had a wide, goofy, dimpled grin on his face. He leaned forward. “So, where is he now? Did you two leave each other?”

“Well, he-” The sound of the door opening and closing echoed through the house, followed by soft padding steps and heavier ones not so far behind.

“Sweetheart, I’m home!” A familiar voice called, the deep one which always had your stomach doing flips. That you heard murmuring sweet nothings in your ear every damn day. “C’mon Miracle, stay still- attaboy. Such a good boy.”

“That would be your father.” You sighed, not in a disappointed way, but a lovesick teenager way because hearing the word ‘sweetheart’ from your husband’s mouth never got old.

Your husband. Damn, you didn’t think you’d make it to that point. Not when Chuck was still a threat. Or even that rebar that Jack saved him from.

Your kids shrieked happily and practically flew off their high chairs, sprinting towards their dad, who was busy taking off his jacket in the hallway.

Dean Winchester. All 6’ 1” of flannel and denim, but this time with burden-free smiles and lit up looks.

When he saw his two munchkins, the jacket was off in a flash and he’d bent to one knee in order to absorb the impact of two koala hugs. “Aw, hey, squirt number one and two. Hope you didn’t give your mom much trouble.”

It felt so much better than the impact of a punch. Indescribably better.

“Dad!” The two giggled at the same time, accepting two kisses on the forehead each while being smothered by their dad’s strong arms. Warm and comforting and no longer instruments of destruction.

They’d always be somewhat like that, Dean thought in the back of his mind. The seed of doubt sowing in again.

Then Dean saw you in the hallway, and his brain forgot to work, doubts forgot to sow and crept into the dark corner it came from. You, his wife (he never got tired of the way that word rolled off his tongue), Mrs Winchester, standing there all pretty looking at him with those eyes of yours that always saw through his crap and often jackassery.

Dressed up in his undershirt, your sweats with the last few winks of sleep yet to go from your eyes, but still working yourself to the bone to make sure your kids had a good meal. A far cry of the days where he’d look up, see you covered in blood that wasn’t yours, adrenaline-pumped with that sexy fire in your eyes, machete in hand instead of that ring he bought around your finger.

He preferred this look on you. It meant you were safe.

Dean watched as you gave Miracle an idle scratch before ushering the kids into the kitchen, then walking up to him and wrapping those gorgeous arms around his neck, gorgeous eyes twinkling and your gorgeous lips stretched into a smile.

The whole nine yards, apple pie and picket fence of gorgeous and it was all his. All his personal heaven.

“Mrs Winchester.” He murmured, nudging your nose with his as his arms circled your waist, drawing you in and gripping your hips with both underlying possessiveness and a tender glow in those emerald eyes. Your soul soaring and low, warm vibrations in your body increasing until it was at the frequency of his. Syncing you both.

“Mr Winchester.” You giggled softly as you let your lips meet his once, pulling back. Then you couldn’t help yourself, letting them meet in holy matrimony again. And again. And again, over and over until you were both mentally and physically restraining yourselves due to your children being in the next room.

“We have to stop.” Dean chuckled, his hand tangling in your hair as the other inched down from its place on your hip, taking yet another hit of your honeyed lips.

“We do.” You whispered back, meeting his ministrations with the slow massage of your thumb against his scalp from where your fingers ran through his hair, your other hand on his chest.

Over his heart.

“Hard to when y’looking so pretty, darlin’, and you know it.” He huffed, nuzzling your nose before dipping to press a slow, hot kiss to your jugular. “Wearin’ my shirt too, hardens the bargain. And these sweats, god, you know what they do for your ass.” As if to punctuate his point (and sentence), he gave a quick, firm slap to it. “Ain’t makin’ it easy for me here, baby.”

“Dean!” You squeaked, giggling. “Our kids are in the kitchen.”

“Lil’ buggers. My sex drive’s arch nemesis.” He groaned against your neck, but listened anyway, taking his hand off your ass and cupping your cheeks, pressing a loving kiss to your forehead, then hairline. “C’mon.” You two made your way to the kitchen, where Miracle then padded over, rearing on his hind legs to paw at Dean’s jeans for attention. He obliged, bending down to ruffle Miracle’s golden coat.

“Hey, boy.” He whispered, fingers doing good work to give Miracle the love he was whining for. “I love you a lot, ok? But I’ve got a wife, a very sweet, very sexy…” Dean gave you a once over with a lick of his lip and a quick bite of the bottom one, “wife. And I wanna get her in bed today, so don’t ruin this one for me. All respect given. Alright?”

A small whimper of affirmation.

“Attaboy.” Dean gave Miracle a quick scratch behind the ear before straightening up.

“C’mon, mom, tell us what happened to the cool guy!” Sam insisted, which had Dean raising an eyebrow at you in question. Cool guy? Who, what, when, where, how, why?

“Yeah, the one that stole your heart and put rainbows in your eyes!” Charlie added, making a heart with her tiny hands.

Dean smirked, leaning against the counter by his hip. “Oh? Who stole your heart and put rainbows in your eyes, honey? Do tell.”

“First of all, I did not say that.” You chuckled, raising a finger.

“You don’t have to. It’s all here.” Charlie pointed to her own eyes with an intense stare at her finger and a cute pout. It almost had you melting. “But tell us!”

“Oh, fine.” You rolled your eyes playfully with a laugh, then took Dean’s hand and kissed the battle-scarred knuckle.

The gesture making Dean internally melt and externally making his eyes fill up with hearts and his lips twitch into a warm smile.

“I married him.” You said softly, your eyes mirroring the same look.

“Damn right.” He chuckled, leaning forward and meeting your lips in a sweet, slow kiss. Free from the stress of an Apocalypse or a battle. That tasted like coffee and toothpaste rather than beer or whiskey and had no rush. His hand cradling your cheek while yours gently cupped the back of his head. Breathing in his body wash that wasn’t low grade anymore. You still had the unlimited credit cards, so you had more time for things like these. The little things.

You became absorbed in everything Dean, the kiss not as passionate as when he’d dipped you and took your breath away in front of a crowd of hunters on your wedding day but still had the same meaning. The whispers of the vows you two had choked out through tears. He became absorbed in you, in the sweet taste of a croissant on your tongue and your floral scent dizzying and overwhelming his senses in a good way. It was you he was feeling. It felt like you, so real, so safe. It felt like home.

“Ewwww!” You were interrupted by Sam and Charlie, and you broke apart, foreheads pressing together with a soft laugh coming from the both of you.

His hand on your waist, yours carding through his hair. Comfort, assurance, something you both had been deprived of for fifteen straight years. You wouldn’t let being Mrs Winchester go. Not now, not ever.

Mrs Winchester. Never got old.

I’d appreciate a like, comment and/or reblog! Make sure to do this for all your favourite writers so they get inspiration!

TAGLIST:

@goldngguk @sweetpeachbombshell @slut-for-stiles @staple-your-mouth @daddyscrimsstuff

@dob-4-life @marcis-mixtapez @nonoreas0n @gabrielasilva1510

@lucyholmes13 @pandadork-blog1 @nicolstancu @malusinhaaaa @dybalabandolero

@a-cup-of-nightshade @tomatoessoup @sh0rtcakee @fall-06 @mckaykay-fandoms

@b3th13

@demonxangelomegaverse @deanwinchestersgirl87 @capailluiscedove @i723l-interrupted2323 @niyomiii

@all-the-fan-fic @eviekinevie8 @sunflowerlover57

@1-800-dean-winchester

@darichvep @idk-usernme @supernaturalmarvel3000 @ega2025 @deanbrainrotwritings

@targaryenluvs @bucky-hydra-hoe-barnes @leigh70 @aintnowayboi @ripoffsteveharrington

@gleefulleve @sacrosankta

@riteofpassage77 @eevvvaa @thedevilortheangel @thorsballhair @barbienotdoll

@4e1h3r @wolfieblue03 @kianaleani @vicky199625 @sassyslut2003

@impyrz

@didisull @miwp @lastcallatrockysbar @rizlowwritessortof

@zepskies @angelbabyyy99

@autisticgothic

@yourgoldengirls @deansobsessedgirl @mrsjenniferwinchester

@aylacavebear @lailawinchesterr @brightlilith @arcanaa @hobby27

@lyarr24 @ximm19

@a-girl-who-loves-disney @jeneelsworld @deans-spinster-witch @deanspinsterwitchs-readinglist @kayleighwinchester

[hoshiina]

pairing: hoshina soushirou x gn!reader (no prns)

summary: he still dreams of you and wishes for another chance to make you his, some lines are inspired by hakujitsu by king gnu

warnings: reader is rather lively/bubbly,

notes: TYSM FOR 100 !!!, a/n (yapping) in tags

wc: 1800

Hoshina Soushirou still dreamt of you. Every once in a while, you’d come to visit him in his sleep and it would make him believe that a miracle had occurred, that he had another chance. Every time, he would tell himself that he would never let this go, that he would give it his absolute all this time.

Yet, every time, he would wake up from this dream.

And every time, he would feel his heart drop at the realization of that. He was disappointed, and he knew, but there was no reason to be. It wasn't like anything had happened between the two of you. He liked to believe there was something going on— something more than mere acquaintances or friends, but he knew there wasn't. It must've been all in his head because the last time he had heard of you was before you were moved to the first division. He hadn't heard a single word from you since then, nor has he said anything— but that was just the way it was. There was nothing to do at this point anyway.

He wasn’t with you for all that long, and it was probably just the fact that both of you joined at the same time that naturally started the first conversation. He was far more weary of everything and far less cheerful at the time, and you didn't even work with him most of the time being a researcher, but you didn’t mind that one bit. If you had something you wanted to say, you would tell him and he’d just have to listen. At first, he had no idea why you kept talking to him when he paid hardly any mind, but after a while, he found comfort in your conversations. He had started to look forward to talking to you.

It had only been a few months before the defense force noticed how spectacular your work was and quickly called you over to the first division. There wasn’t a tearful farewell, or even a casual goodbye for that matter. You disappeared along with a cheerful ‘I’ll see you around!’ while you were moving your boxes out and he would hear those words ring in his head for the years to come— in your voice. Yet, at the time, all he could do was force a smile and nod.

It had been so many years since you had moved, he didn’t even know what you looked like now. Probably still stunning. Definitely still stunning. Although he had the chance to see the 1st division officers a lot, you were a researcher who worked behind the scenes. Naturally, there was no reason he'd bump into you, and he didn’t. He never did.

He loved to remember you, but he hated to think about you. He loved to remember the way you would laugh at his silly jokes, the way you would ramble on about the work you had to do daily but would still put in your all, and the way you would always visit him with some cold tea when he trained late into the night if you were still up as well. Actually, he hated thinking about the tea— it would make him start thinking about you. He would think about how you were now, if you were still pilled with work, and if you remembered him.

If he bumped into you, would you remember his name? Maybe if he cracked a lame joke. Maybe if he gave you a few days to think about it. Maybe if he started listing the things you talked about— his most treasured memories. Maybe then you’d say his name again.

See? This is why he hated thinking about you— he had things to be doing.

It wasn't like this happened everyday and it wasn't that big of a deal. It just ruined his day a little when it did happen. So if he had to say, he hated dreaming of you.

As you took over his thoughts again, the emergency alarm started to buzz, as if to tell him to snap out of it. He was thankful, he couldn't still be daydreaming like this.

A smaller-sized identified grade kaiju had appeared near the first division quarters, so the third division was doing more backup work this time. Hoshina was taking care of the smaller kaiju in the vicinity that had spawned from the presence of the honju. It felt nice for him to be doing work, it took his mind off his ramblings and cleared his head. He wasn't too worried about the honju, however. Although it was an identified grade, it wasn't anything they hadn't dealt with before and as much as he liked to tease Narumi about how he was always better at smaller kaiju neutralization, he knew Narumi was extraordinary at what he did.

At least that would have been true for any other kaiju of that size and strength, but Narumi seemed to be struggling far more than expected with this one. From his earpiece, he heard Okonogi notify him that the 1st division was asking to send Narumi some help if possible, and he immediately rushed over.

Yet, by the time he got there, Narumi had already neutralized the kaiju in question, although horribly beat up.

“I don't need your help, Hoshina!” Narumi still managed to yell while on the floor, absolutely bleeding out.

“Oh, shut up, do you want to die?” Hoshina asked. It didn't take an expert to see that Narumi’s condition was concerning.

Narumi soon fell quiet, probably unconscious, while Hoshina found his earpiece lying on the floor near him. He picked it up, hoping it'd connect to the first division just in case they had lost connection to his vitals.

“He's unconscious right now, but he seems to still be breathing. However, he's bleeding dangerously from multiple spots. I think a few ribs might also be broken,” Hoshina said. “There aren't any kaiju nearby at the moment and I'll take care of them if any do come— bring the stretcher right away.”

He waited a moment, but there was no response from the earpiece.

“Hello?” he asked, hoping for a response. After another moment, he heard it.

“Hoshina…?”

It was you. He would still recognize your voice from anywhere. Oh, how he missed you. His eyes were wide and he had nothing to say all of a sudden. You remembered him. You recognized his voice.

You remembered his name.

“Thank you for your report, we lost connection to some of his vitals halfway through. The medics should be there in a few minutes,” you said.

“I'll stand by,” Hoshina said and kept Narumi's earpiece in his ear. He had nothing he wanted to tell you, not one thing in mind, but he wanted to be on the line with you— even in silence. The medics came in a few minutes like you had told him and took care of Narumi right away.

“They got here, he should be fine now,” Hoshina said, as if you didn't already know. He just wanted something to say to you.

“I missed working with you,” you said and he couldn't believe his ears. Perhaps he'd wake up from this dream again. Perhaps he'd open his eyes and be utterly disappointed again. But he knew there wasn't even a hint of romantic affection in your words, just the respect you've always had for the work he did, and how you missed doing this job with him. And he did too.

“Yeah, I did too,” he said. “I still do.”

You chuckled a little and he could still picture you smiling. “That made my entire year,” you said. “Probably not the time for this, but we should catch up sometime. If you don't mind, of course.”

Made your year. What did you mean by that? And If he didn't mind? Oh, you didn't know how many times he's dreamed of this day.

“I'd love to,” he said. While he was a little embarrassed to imagine the rest of the first-division team hearing this conversation, that was not going to stop him. He'd be an absolute fool to let this chance go. He has promised himself to give it his all this time.

“Are you seeing anyone?” he asked quietly.

“Sorry?” you asked, hoping he'd repeat that. You heard it, but you were afraid you were so delusional you were starting to hear things. Your heartbeat quickened and you waited patiently, hoping it wasn't all in your head.

“Do you have a lover?” he asked a little more clearly, but obviously still nervous and flustered. You had never seen him like this, ever.

“No,” you replied, a little too quickly. “I do not.”

Relief washed over him and he felt his heartbeat quicken. Oh, thank goodness you didn't have access to his vitals. He was going to make you fall for him somehow.

“…do you?” you asked quietly, after a moment.

“Me?” he asked. “No, I don't.”

“I see,” you said, but he could hear the soft delight in your voice. He would never miss it.

Perhaps he'd just go for it. There was nothing for him to lose at this point, and he had made his feelings plenty obvious already. If you didn't want him, he'd just try again. He's tried countless times in his dreams already, what's a few more?

“But I'd love to be yours,” he said and heard you gasp quietly. That one he couldn't read. Was that a little too bold? Far too sudden?

“Did I hear that right?” he faintly heard you scream, asking your fellow first division coworkers. That made him laugh, you hadn't changed one bit. “I’ve loved you forever, Hoshina.”

There was absolutely no way. He was going to wake up soon, he just knew it. Well, might as well indulge in the dream for now, then.

“I've definitely loved you for longer,” he said.

“Hoshina, I'm going to kill you if this is a dream,” you said, and that caught him off guard. Yet, even that sounded nice to him, and that made him smile. He'd get to see you, at least.

But it wasn't a dream. The way your voice fluttered his heart could never be felt through a dream. The way your laugh filled his soul could not possibly make him feel so warm through a mere dream.

“I cannot wait to see you,” you said softly, your voice so full of love it made him melt.

He couldn't either, but that wasn't exactly what he had on mind this entire time.

“And I cannot wait to kiss you.”