#i got some involuntary t-words

[itadodori]

#note: obsessive nanami with a breeding kink?? i think tf yes!

obsessed!nanami who necessarily doesn’t like to show how head over heels for you he is. he’s the type that likes to cover it up, keep it a secret just in case it creeps you out. however, he couldn’t very well hide his addiction to you when he was inches deep in you, thinking about changing both of your lives for the better.

he’s been begging to try for a baby for months now, and he was getting really fed up with your answers. you would always say yes but when it finally came down to it you’d make him pull out. what type of shit was that?

“so what d’ya say baby? gonna let me fill this pretty lil pussy up? give ya’ all my babies?” his hands flew to your hair, pulling it so hard that your head was forced back. you couldn’t even give him a solid answer with the state you were in.

not with the way his hips were snapping back and forth to meet yours, or the way his lips roughly sucked on your neck— leaving marks which were very well intended.

your shaky hands involuntary found their way to his stomach, trying to push the man out of you so you could catch some type of break.

“k..k..kento please! t’s too m..much i-“ your words were quickly cut off by him smacking your hand. you should’ve knew better honestly, he never liked when you tried to push him away, but that still didn’t stop you.

this time, you used your foot to try and push him away—but again.. you should’ve known better. as soon as he saw your leg move he was quick to slap your thigh, causing you to hiss and put it right back where he had them pinned.

“you didn’t answer my question princess.. can i?” now his thrusts were even faster than before, and he made sure to give your clit some extra attention as well, slowly teasing it by rubbing small circles around the throbbing bud.

now that was enough to drive you insane, nanami knew what he was doing, he always did. he was purposely trying to overstimulate you because he knew how easy you give into him when you’re in that state.

with curling toes, and a wide mouth you tried to escape from his grasp— well, more like you quite literally tried to run away from him.

you knew exactly what he was planning and you weren’t giving in that easily, that’s what you hoped at least.

his face fell into a frown when he realized your weak attempted to escape him, you did this every time the two of you had sex.. you could never last for longer than thirty minutes, and usually he would let you off the hook.. but this time, he had other plans.

when nanami finally got fed up of you trying to run, he became more serious. his touch was no longer passionate and steady, it was sloppy and rough.

the hand he was using to hold your legs up soon became the hand he used to grip your neck. it caught you off guard at first since he’d never done it before, but you soon became used to the feeling, and it only added to your pleasure.

“stop tryin’ to run from me. i told you about this before, keep it up and you just might get fucked up.” it was a small warning. the way his eyes locked with yours, and held that familiar gaze of seriousness, you knew he wasn’t fucking around.

you didn’t miss the way your pussy clenched tighter around him at his words, or the way you suddenly got the feeling to let him do whatever with you.

this time was different than all the other times you two had sex.. usually he wouldn’t be so— aggressive. not that you were complaining though.

you knew he was finally getting serious when he let go of the hold he had on your legs, what was he planning next? he pulled out of you without a word, and your face studied his for some type of answer.

confusion quickly took over your body, but you weren’t left confused for long.. nanami rocked his hips backwards before slamming back into you without any warning, continuing his previous goal.

the scream you let out was loud, all your neighbors most likely heard it too, probably wondering what the hell was going on.

nanami’s hands gripped on your waist, keeping you still since he knew you loved to fucking move, or better yet run. “what do you have to say to me, darling?”

“’m sorry baby— fuck! ‘m so sorry.” you had no choice but to stay still this time, you knew he wasn’t letting you get away again. even if you never really got away in the first place— he’d make sure you never thought about running from him (or his dick) again.

by this time nanami was already too far gone to listen to you. the way your pussy was squeezing around him like this, and sucking him in.. he couldn’t listen to you. not when he had a job to do.

the more your walls sucked him in, the more he felt his rationality slipping away. he couldn’t hold out much longer.. you knew he wanted kids from the beginning right? plus, it’s not like you didn’t want this. you told him yes many times before, so why not just get it over with already?

“pussy’s suckin’ me in so fuckin’ good princess, gonna fill you up real good. m..make your tummy all nice n’ round with my babies. fuck.. you’re gonna look so beautiful. tits all swollen and shit,”

his hand involuntarily came down to your stomach— carefully rubbing it as if there was a baby in there already.

you’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on. just as you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to carry this man’s children.

feeling him rub on your stomach while mumbling such vulgar words.. it was enough to throw you over the edge.

“oh fuck ken! ‘m cumming baby, please ‘m gonna-” he pushed down on your lower stomach, knowing that’d be more than enough to get you where he wanted you.

without warning, liquid starting pouring out of you and it was only then that you realized it wasn’t just cum.. you had squirted. and because of that, nanami wasn’t too far behind you.

“yes mama, milk this shit. let me give it all to you.. this pretty lil pussy takin’ me so well- shit!” as you were still riding out your orgasm, he was right behind you, finally filling you up with the warm cum he’d been storing so long.. just for you.

“mm yes ken. wanna have all your babies, my love. give it to me please!” little did you know, he had a lot to give, poor guy had been waiting for this moment for years now. and it was finally here.

the two of you couldn’t keep quiet even when you both already finished cumming. nanami didn’t want to pull out, he wanted to stay buried inside of you forever. the feeling of your pussy gripping him was something he’d never get tired of.

sadly, he eventually did have to pull out. you kept fussing about wanting to go to sleep, and how you didn’t want to go to sleep with him inside of you because of what he did last time.

“fine, but before you go to sleep let me just..” he got on his knees, holding your legs up just like before but this time he had a clear view of your pussy. no, his pussy.

she looked so worn out, and even now she was still clenching around nothing— clearly missing the feeling of his dick. however, what peaked his interest most was his cum spilling out of you.

well we surely couldn’t have that, could we? what was the point of all that hard work if it was all just going to go to waste..

without a second thought he ran his fingers down your folds, lapping up all the liquids that were already spilling out, earning a low moan from you.

“w..what are you doing?”

he ignored your question— focusing on collecting all the spilled out cum purely with his bare hands. once he felt he’d done enough, he wasted no time plunging his fingers into you, pushing back all of the cum that tried escaping.

“go to sleep. im going to stay like this for a while, i don’t want a single drop wasted.”

all rights reserved ©itadodori ♡

[sister-lucifer]

Eager Hands On Soft Flesh

Ticci Toby x Chubby!Transmasc!Reader 

My half of a trade with @pompeiisystem !

Genre: Smut

Summary: After you let slip that you’ve got your fair share of insecurities about your body, Toby simply can’t pass up the opportunity to appreciate every bit of you. 

Content/Warnings: Body worship, Reader’s body is focused on but I specifically chose NOT to use the word “fat,” Reader is insecure about their weight but Toby is there for reassurance, fucking against the kitchen counter, unprotected penis in trans masc vagina sex, fingering, oral sex (reader receiving), messy pussy eating, cumming inside, praise, use of “cunt,” “pussy,” and similar variations to describe Reader’s genitalia, Toby has a dick piercing but it’s only briefly mentioned 

“Toby, be honest, do you think this outfit would look better if I…you know, lost some weight?”

The sudden lurch of his body followed by sputtering and coughing as he chokes on his drink makes you jump. Your eyes widen a bit as you watch him struggle to regain his composure, wiping his mouth and trying not to spit. His tongue clicks involuntary, neck jerking in all directions as he tries to process what he’s just heard. 

“Wh— W-What the hell are you t-talkin’ about?” He stammers, speaking through the discomfort of off brand soda in his windpipe. 

“I just mean…you know,” You reply, suddenly feeling sheepish as you look down at the crimson sweater keeping snug against your top half, “I was just thinking…maybe I should—“ 

“Did I s-say something?” Toby says quickly. He rises from where he was sitting at the kitchen table, wiping his chin with his sleeve one last time. “Did I m-make you—shhhrk!—make you— m-make you think that you h-had to?” 

“Oh no, of course not!” You’re fast to reply, gently putting your hands on his arms and giving a small squeeze. “No, no, it’s not you at all, I promise. I was just thinking—“ 

“W-Well you shouldn’t d-do that anymore.” 

You sigh softly, moving your hands down go grasp his. You run your thumbs over his knuckles as his fingers tense and twitch despite his best efforts to hold onto you, looking up at him through your lashes. 

“Toby, come on, I didn’t mean anything bad about you. I’m just saying…I want you to be honest with me, that’s all.”

You look down at yourself, at the knit sweater and jeans you’ve put on. They’re comfortable, yes, but there’s something about the way you look in them that just doesn’t add up. You shouldn’t have expected to look exactly like the model on the website, really. You didn’t think you did. 

You’re starting to feel foolish for spending your money on this. It was silly, really, to be so excited about something as simple as a cute sweater, but at the time you thought you couldn’t live without it. You have plenty of other perfectly good outfits in your closet. Really, what reason did you have to think— 

You gasp softly when Toby suddenly pulls you in, ripping you from your thoughts with hands on your waist, gently grabbing at your love handles and pushing you back against the counter. His lips find your neck in a split second.

You moan softly, the sensation surprising but not unpleasant. You grasp at the back of his sweatshirt with one hand and run your fingers through his hair with the other. He groans under his breath when you tug just a bit.

“Please, baby,” He whispers against your skin, “P-Please, let me love on y-you just a-a bit…” 

“Toby, what are you—“ 

“Nothing, baby, I-I’m not doing a-anything…Just l-let me…”

Your cheeks are getting hot fast. You make no effort to push him away, but you can’t help getting flustered. 

“Toby, c’mon, you don’t have to do all this…” 

“I-I want to, though,” He says quickly, starting to nip and suck at your neck between kisses, “I’m not v-vvv-very good with words, I-I…I just—j-just wanna show you—shhh!—s-show you what you f-feel like…to m-me…” 

He pauses with a sigh, pulling back slowly. He looks up at you almost hesitantly, an expression you rarely see on his face. He’s always the first to act on an impulse, rarely ever thinking twice about anything; what’s slowing him down now? 

“…i-if you’ll let me, I-I mean.” 

The words come out far too gentle for Toby, and it makes you melt against him a bit. He’s always so eager to get his hands on your body, but something in him is sensing something unsure in you. You look back into the mossy color of his hazel eyes with contemplation. 

You can’t stop the gentle smile that spreads over your face. 

You pull him down to give him a slow kiss, and he happily returns the gesture. When you pull back again, there’s no hiding the anticipation on his face as he awaits your answer.

“…Of course, Toby.”

He takes only a split second to process the words before suddenly he’s roughly suckling and nipping at the flesh of your neck. You yelp in surprise, but not discomfort. You bite your lip as you grip his hair, trying to keep him against you. 

His hands freely wander your body, moving up and down your sides before slipping beneath your sweater. You suck in a breath when he gives an affectionate squeeze to your love handles, fingers greedily grabbing at the warmth beneath your skin. He groans as he feels you, entire body shuddering at the sensation of you beneath his hands. 

He moves so quickly, as if he’s worried you’ll disappear at any moment, like some invisible clock is counting down and the moment is reaches zero you’ll fade away. He grabs at you and sucks at your neck like he’s feeding on you, like your body heat is the only thing sustaining him. He needs you, and you can feel it in every touch. 

He pushes your sweater up to your chest before hands slide down towards the waistband of your jeans. Twitching fingertips fiddle with the button and then the fly, yanking down the zipper with such speed you were worried it would break. He pulls the jeans down around your ankles, not bothering to pull them off before moving on to your underwear.

He looks up at you, fingers tapping anxiously at the waistband. He licks his dry lips, mouthing a silent ‘Can I?’

“Yes, yes, please,” You reply without hesitation, nodding quickly. You gasp softly when he tugs your underwear down to your knees, exposing your now soaked pussy to the cool air and making you shudder. He can’t stop the breathy moan that slips from his lips at the sight. 

“S-So fucking beautiful…” He mutters through crooked teeth as he lowers himself slowly. Normally he would be eager to drop to his knees and service you, but just this once he’s taking his time. He’s methodical as he leaves a warm trail of kisses down your belly, letting his lips linger for a long few seconds before he moves down just a bit more. You watch with bated breath as he makes his way down until there’s no further to go. 

“…You know I-I love this-sss-s pretty tummy, don’t you?” He mumbles against your skin, looking up into your eyes. Your heart skips a bit when you nod. He doesn’t seem satisfied.

“Say it.”

“…I…I know, Toby.”

One corner of his mouth briefly quirks up into a smirk before an involuntary jerk of his neck and scrunching of his nose pulls it back down again..

He pauses then, eyes widening slightly with something you can only describe as admiration as his eyes trail down to your sweet cunt, wetting his lips on instinct.

You don’t have a second to wonder what he’s doing before suddenly his warm mouth engulfs your cunt. In a split second it seems all semblance of patience has left his body. You cry out, throwing your head back as your back arches. You instinctively push your hips against him, grinding into his mouth.

“T-Toby—!” 

Your fingers find his untamed thatch of brown hair in an instant, gripping tightly just how he likes. He moans as you call out his name, his voice sending vibrations through your cunt. He’s an excitable, messy eater, lapping at your cunt with need and not bothering to try and hide the wet squelching sounds his mouth makes as his tongue slides in an out of you, lips curling around the mound of your pussy and the tip of his crooked nose bumping your swollen clit. 

“Fuck…mmh…” He groans under his breath, not once losing contact or pulling away, “Y-You have no idea how m-much— m-mumble, mumble— much I-I love this boycunt…t-tastes sooo, s-so— so sweet…could just…just— j-just eat it for hours…”

He’s slurring his words already, speech messy and scattered at the words carelessly flow between his lips and down his chin like water over the edge of a cliff. His mouth is already soaking, drool leaking from his mouth and gash combined with your slick arousal. 

You squeal when you feel his two of his fingers prod at your entrance, anxiously pushing through and wasting no time reaching as deep as they can. Your entire body tenses and your back arches involuntarily against the counter as his digits twitch inside of you, slipping in and out at an excited pace. 

“C-Careful, Toby,” You stammer. He gives only a quick nod in reply before pushing in a third finger, the tip of his tongue now flicking at your clit. A thick mixture of his own spit and the juices leaking from your cunt is dripping down his chin and running down his neck. 

The hand not nestled in his hair is bracing you against the counter, gripping the marble hard as you struggle to keep yourself steady. You’re resisting the urge to just collapse with each shockwave Toby’s tongue and fingers send through your throbbing pussy. His free hand is grabbing at your sides and hips, half trying to keep you up and half groping you for his own pleasure. He spreads his fingers out inside of you, stretching you as much as he can as he readies you to take his cock.

When he finally pulls away you’re struggling to breathe, chest heaving with heavy gasps as you recover. He stands back up to his full height, towering over you and not even bothering to wipe his mouth before he captures your lips in a heated kiss. You could care less about the feeling of your own viscous arousal against your lips; there’s no room for disgust in your lust-filled brain. 

Toby’s panting as well when he pulls away, licking his lips before speaking.

“You s-sss-see how sweet you t-taste?”

You mimic his gesture, tongue darting out to lick over your own lips. You shyly nod, and a crooked smile spreads across his face. 

“C’mon, b-bend over f’me,” He says, giving your side an encouraging pat.

You happily comply, laying yourself over the counter and arching your back a bit. You shiver at the familiar sound of his belt unbuckling, then his fly coming down, and then that wonderful sigh of relief he lets out when he pushes down his jeans and boxers in one go. Not even a second later his tip is pressing against your cunt. 

He leans over you, nuzzling into your neck and wrapping his arms around your middle. 

“You ready?” He whispers, and you nod without thinking. 

He immediately pushes inside of you, groaning into your ear as you tense, nails digging into the flesh of your palm as his cock stretches you. The bulbous head manages to bully its way into your cunt, and you can feel the veins on his shaft as they brush against your walls. The crooked Prince Albert piercing adoring his tip scrapes against your cervix and pulls a drawn out moan from your glistening lips. 

Toby curses to himself as he bottoms out, finally pushing in as far as he can go. You can feel his cock twitching with need inside of you as it acclimates to your tight hole. He’s clinging to you like his life depends on it, fingers pressing into the ample flesh of your soft tummy and sides. 

A choked noise claws its way out of your throat as he slowly pulls back, your cunt squelching and dripping as his cock recedes to the head, pausing for a moment before pushing back in. You cry out with a broken call of his name, your plump body pushed hard into the counter that’s currently keeping you from collapsing into a heap on the floor beneath your lover. 

Toby’s lanky body practically engulfs yours as he ruts into you over and over again, slowly but surely getting faster with each thrust as he faces less and less resistance from your pussy, the slick canal gradually being molded to the shape of his cock. He’s huffing and moaning in your ear, not at all shy or ashamed to be vocal for you. 

“Nngh…I-I don’t think I’ll—Fuck! Shit!—I’ll ever— e-ev-vvv-ver get used to t-this perfect fff-fuckin’ boycunt…Goddamn…!” 

He’s grabbing all over your body, hands moving feverishly between your chest and stomach and hips as he squeezes every inch of hot skin he can find. 

“Sooo fucking h-handsome,” He sighs in your ear, “I’m s-so fucking lucky that I-I get to— t-to love you like this-sss-s…”

He can hardly get the words out between his desperate mewls, needy sounds that he couldn’t keep at bay if he tried. He’s drooling again, unable to focus on muscle control as his base instincts take over, screaming at him to just forget everything else and fuck you like you deserve to be fucked. 

You reach up to gently push his cheek against your own, pressing a kiss to his jaw and making him whine. He turns his head to kiss you once more, tongue pushing past your lips and allowing you to taste the last remnants of your soggy cunt on his tongue. 

His cock reaches every bit of your insides, pushing in so far you swear you can feel it in your stomach. With each thrust he only speeds up more and more, rambling on and on about how amazing you feel and how badly he needs this perfect boypussy.

“So beautiful,” He chokes out, eyes starting to roll back in his head, “S-So fucking beautiful…all thick and p-perfect…fuck, a-ah—!”

He’s starting to lose his pace, and fast. One of his hands slowly slides down your stomach, his middle finger pawing at your clit. You cry out at the unexpected stimulation and your knees nearly buckle beneath you, prompting Toby to tighten his grip on you just in case you can’t stand yourself up anymore. He rubs your clit in soft circles, just the way you’d taught him all that time ago. Just the way you like. 

“Nngh—! T-Toby,” You stammer, barely able to get the words out, “If you keep doing that, I’m gonna…!” 

“I-I know,” He replies in a rush, “I-I wanna—want it! want it!—w-wanna feel you cum around me…p-please, please…?”

God, how can you deny him when he begs like that?

You start to push back against him in time with his thrusts, assisting him in sheathing himself inside of you and savoring the wonderful fullness. Your legs are shaking obviously now, and you have to fight to keep yourself up even with Toby’s help. He’s not too steady himself. 

He’s started to rub your clit a bit harder, no longer able to focus on keeping his pace steady with his fingers nor his thrusts. The constant shifts in pressure and speed are only pushing you to your release faster. 

He’s whining endlessly in your ear, slurring his words as he drones on and on about how handsome you are, how much he loves you, how grateful he is that he’s the only one who gets to fuck this precious little cunt. 

He’s barely keeping time now, any sense of rhythm forgotten as he desperately ruts into you over and over again. He’s almost at his limit, not far behind you. 

“Toby,” You gasp, “Please, I-I’m gonna—!”

“Do it,” He growls, “D-Do it, please, lemme f-fff-feel that pussy tighten around m-me…”

Just his words, the clear desperation and need in his voice, is enough to push you over the edge. You manage one last cry of his name before you cum around his twitching cock, cunt squeezing and convulsing as you struggle to cope with the wave of pleasure washing over you with more force than you were ready for. 

Toby curses under his breath and sputters out what you think is a warning, but you can barely hear him with the way your head is spinning. That’s what makes it all the more jarring when suddenly he’s releasing inside of you, the fullness of his cock replaces with the thick warmth of his seed spilling into you deeper than you ever thought possible. He groans as his thrusting lazily slows to a stop, leaving you both sweaty and panting. 

He releases his death grip on you, but keeps his arms around your middle. He nuzzles against your cheek with a sigh. He shifts slightly, and you cringe a bit when you feel some of his cum dripping out of you. 

“You’re s-so beautiful baby,” He mumbles against your skin, clearly just as fucked out as you are, “So fucking…p-perfect…my h-ha-handsome boy…”

You give him a tired smile, pressing a little kiss to his warm cheeks. 

“I know, Toby. I know.”

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out 

Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)

Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!

[livelaughlovesubs]

HI NINIII i know i havent been back in a while but i saw your event post, could i request 'forcing them to beg' and 'mocking them for involuntary reactions' with my beloved poet poe

and if you're feeling extra generous maybe throw in some nice aftercare because im a soft dom deep down 💕

-🫶

Hey heyyyy!! Welcome back 🫶 anon :D glad to see you hehe. One Poe request? Right away~

Dom!reader x sub!poe - reader is gn

Warning: teasing, begging, light degration?

Anniversary event

What a sly thing you were.

Sneaking up on him while he was brainstorming for new ideas to add to his novel. You couldn’t help it, he was too adorable to resist. Sitting at his desk, head in the clouds while he tightly clenched his fountain pen. When you were close enough, standing right behind him, you glanced over his shoulder to see him doodling down random notes. Despite how close you were, he still hadn’t acknowledged your presence. How concentrated he was~

Which is why you leaned forward, to whisper into his ear, “Poe~”. The boy jumped immediately, shrieking like a kitten as he turned to look at you. His pen made a ‘thud’ sound as it hit the floor, and he rushed to pick it up, “uuahh..! Y-y/n? Ah- w-wait..” He bend over as he reached for it, and since he was presenting you with such an opportunity you just had to strike.

Wrapping your arms around his body, feeling him shudder due to your touch.

“Heh, so sensitive aren’t you?” You teased while he was still bend over, now hesitating to slump back into his seat. “Y/n… t-that’s not…” He began, but stopped midway. “not what?” You heard him gulp loudly before he answered meekly, “not true.”

“Are you sure about that?” A fun idea popped up, and you began massaging his sore shoulders. You pressed down on the cramped muscles, hands skilfully kneading him. His posture is bad, that’s why his neck’s almost always cramped. Once again he yelped, making you chuckle softly. “Because if not, why are you whimpering like a girl?”

You knew he was blushing, even if you couldn’t see his face. The quivering of his body was also a sign of it.

“It’s because you are touching m-me..” Poe managed to squeeze out, but he knew from the beginning he couldn’t win against you. “Oh? So it’s my touch that makes you all sensitive? Not because you’re a lewd boy?” How were you expecting him to not get flustered when you were using that tone, all while tracing one hand down his spine? And using the your other hand to brush your fingertips across his chest?

Seeing him all speechless was cute, but not fun. You wanted to make him cry out and beg, to plead like how you taught him. That’s why you tugged his hair behind his ear and blew hot air against the reddening shell. “Ngh…!” He tried so hard to muffle that moan, knowing you’d mock him for it, but it was all in vain.

“Will you admit how perverted your body is now, Poe?” You rested your chin on his shoulder, both hands now travelling up and down his body in a sickening slow motion. “I-I..” he stuttered, stumbling over his words. “You what?” The feeling of your breath tickling his skin got him squirming around all crudely, it made him want to curl up into a ball and disappear.

While your eyes scanned his body, noticing his crotch, seeing his reacting to your relentless teasing, you smirked again, “Haha~ how perverted indeed. You are a dirty, dirty boy Poe.” He shuddered, shaking all over as he whined, head turning minimal to look at you. “Don’t just stare, use your pretty little mouth.” You demanded, still groping him all over, enjoying the reactions of his body.

“P-please..” He begged, though too embarrassed to continue his request. “Go on, tell me.” You reassured him, playing with the jungle of hair on his head. “T-touch me more.” Poe eventually mumbled, and he instantly regretted it, too ashamed of his own desires. On the other hand, you scoffed at him, “c’mon sweetheart, you can beg better than that.”

Yes, maybe, but no. He has a way with words, only when he writes them down not when voicing them! “Y-y/n..!” He called to your name, too humiliated to obey your orders, even though he wanted to be your good boy so bad. “Acting cute won’t help now.” You reminded him. Defeated, he quickly gazed over his shoulder, tears already forming in his eyes as he whispered a sweet plead, “t-touch me.. a lot, please, I-i beg you..”

What a cute thing he was.

[eimids]

I am beautiful

Lucy Bronze x reader

Can I please request for smut where reader is really insecure about how they look because they’ve gained weight after Ed recovery and they don’t feel good enough for Lucy but Lucy shows reader how much she loves her. Thank you xx

That was the request

I might have made this based on my own experience :D

Warnings: smut, soft smut, so soft!!, but also a bit angst, bad body image and talk about ed (in the past) but everything is good at the end!! so soft smut and soft Lucy <3

Lucy was kissing your neck and tenderly holding your jaw. It was pleasure itself but you wanted more. You wanted Lucia to destroy you, eat you and fuck you till you couldn't move.

After the dinner with some of Lucy's teammates, where Lucy was teasing you the whole time, you finally got back to your apartment. The innocent kisses turned to needier and more passionate. You loved her soft lips on your body, devouring you.

Lucy's hands traveled down to the zipper of your dress. She easily slid the zipper down and stripped you of the stress. She admired her view. You almost naked body facing her. It was the most beautiful sight Lucy had ever seen. Every time she saw you like that she fell in love with you even more.

For you thought it was different. You were feeling bloated after the dinner and just overall uncomfortable in your own skin. You hated how bare you were and the eyes that were studying your whole body. It was weird having a bigger body than you were used to. Now you had an healthy body that didn't collapse after a bit of jogging. A body that was strong enough to finally not make you lose your hair and gave you your period back.

You loved being in recovery. You loved having control of your eating again. Now you could eat much more freely but it was hard. Every pound you gained and the new skin around your stomach was hard to accept. Lucy helped you always. Being there through the recovery process and always making sure you treated your body with the respect it deserved.

Lucy noticed your sudden hesitation. She noticed the way your body got tense. You even went as far as covered your stomach.

"hey, hey, hey what's going on?" Lucy asked. She was clearly worried that she did something wrong.

"I- just umm I don't feel so good" You lied. You didn't want to worry Lucia.

"Are you sure?" Lucy asked knowingly.

"I just- I don't feel good in my body. I fell bloated and too big. I look ugly and I just hate my body right now. I just- umm" You started but Lucy shut you up by kissing you.

"You don't talk like that about my beautiful girlfriend" Lucy stated.

"You, my love, are beautiful, kind, loving, gorgeous, amazing, and some many more things. But ugly and big aren't words that describe you. You are just perfect" Lucy said and kissed you between every word.

You loved how Lucy didn't care what your body looked like. You always thought that you weren't good enough for her because she was an athlete and in perfect fit. But that was far from the truth. Lucy adored you in every way possible.

"I want t worship your body. I want to show you just how beautiful you are if that's okay with you?" Lucy asked.

"Please" You murmured.

"Go lay on the bed" Lucy commanded. You obeyed her and went to lay down. You got comfortable on the bed, laying on the soft cushion. You looked at Lucy who was moving things around in the room. She had the mirror moved to closer to the bed so you had a good view on it from the bed. Lucy then went to grab a vibrator. You were exited for tonight.

"So pretty for me laying there. Such a good girl for be, so beautiful" You heard the voice of Lucy's it brought you back to the moment.

She straddled you and caressed your body at the same time. Her hands were touching every part of your body, lips founding their way to the tender skin of your neck and then your lips. Your mouth left an involuntary moan as she sucked your neck. A bit embarrassed about it but you kept going. Lucy's tongue left a stray of saliva in the valley of your boobs as she made her way to your lips.

"Mhmm, so good for me princess" She said between kissing you.

She turned around and made her way behind you. Now she was sitting and your back was laying on her chest.

"Look at yourself in the mirror" Now you understood the mirror placement. You did look at yourself. You saw a body that you almost didn't recognize but Lucy loved it. Your eyes didn't stay long in the mirror before you closed them, not wanting to see.

"Keep your eyes on the mirror baby, I'm gonna make you feel good if you keep looking at yourself" Lucy said. You needed the pleasure so you opened your eyes.

Lucy brought her fingers to your wet folds. Swirling them around and gathering the wetness. It wasn't what you needed but still brought you pleasure. When Lucy brought her fingers to your clit, you moaned. The pleasure of the sensitive bud was amazing. Lucy was also kissing your neck.

You closed your eyes in the pleasure and as soon as you did it, the movement stopped. "I told you, you gotta keep your eyes on yourself" Lucy said with a hoarse voice. You opened your eyes immediately.

This time Lucy brought the vibrator to your clit. She put it into the lowest setting, not enough to make you come, but enough to make you see stars.

"Oh Lucy, you make me feel so good baby" You moaned and with that Lucy put the vibrator a notch higher. Your body jumped with surprise but your moans kept coming. Soon enough Lucy's fingers found you wet pussy and pushed themselves in. It was once again an amazing feeling.

"You don't come until you tell me how beautiful, I need you to tell me that you know how gorgeous you are." Lucy said as you were getting closer to your orgasm.

"Lucy please let me come" You begged. You just wanted to feel your orgasm rush through you.

"Nope, I haven't heard the words 'I am beautiful' from your mouth yet princess" Lucy just said and kept her pace.

"Mhmm, I'm beautiful Lucy, please can I cum baby" You pleaded again.

"Say it like you mean it, look at yourself in the mirror and say the words" Lucy repeated herself.

You looked at yourself. You looked the body that was bringing you all this pleasure. Half a year ago you didn't have the energy for this kind of activities. You looked at the body that was now healthy and it looked beautiful.

"I'm beautiful Lucy, I'm so fucking beautiful" You cried as your orgasm took over you.

The pleasure waves came crashing over you and it felt never ending. It was blinding and you loved every second of it. You loved how your wife was making you feel, how well she knew your body.

"So so pretty for me princess, I love you so much and you've come so far in your recovery" Lucy praised you.

"Mhmm thank you Lucy" You moaned as the orgasm was over.

"You are so good for me baby, you are so pretty and I hope you know that. Your body is strong and so is your mind. I'm so proud of you" Lucy kept praising you.

She was all you needed in your life.

---

Kinda love this

[phoward89]

Masterlist

Stepcest, Stepson!Coryo x Stepmother!Reader, Sub!Coriolanus, Switch!Reader, Crassus Snow x Younger!Reader

WARNING ⚠️ Coriolanus Snow is a warning in and of itself. Crassus Snow is a cold hearted asshole, but he's a hot asshole... Stepcest, older man/younger woman, arranged marriage, cheating, affairs, secrets, cussing, secret love child, Coryo is a bit selfish and too ambitious, Crassus decides to try and be a better husband/father, allusion to science experiments on a district person

Part 6:

Things have subtly changed between Crassus and you since he came home a couple of nights ago asking about your day. He wasn't overly affectionate with you, but he did inquire about your day once he got home. He's even been coming home a good 15 minutes before dinner’s served, which is nice.

It's currently dinner time, so you and your family are gathered around the dining room table. The food the cook made is exquisite and the conversation is light. Or at least it's light until Coriolanus decides to start bragging about his day interning in Dr. Gaul's lab.

“Dr. Gaul let me do another experiment today since my last one was so successful.” Coriolanus announced to everyone gathered around the table. With a smug smile, the young platinum blonde went on to brag, “And she says that I have the potential to become a very successful Gamemaker.”

“Son, shouldn't you be focusing on your internship and graduating first before daydreaming about your future career?” Crassus asks, his tone cold, flat, and judgemental, while gracefully cutting his steak.

“I have a natural aptitude for gamemaking and the science that goes hand in hand with it according to Dr. Gaul.” Coriolanus retorted while spearing some asparagus with his fork. “In fact Dr. Gaul lets me conduct my own experiments without her overseeing me because she believes that I have the potential to be great; she trusts me to conduct the experiments successfully on my own.”

Hearing that Dr. Gaul sees great potential in Coryo sends an involuntary shiver down your spine. That frizzy haired mad scientist always frightened you. If she sees something in your lover that’d make him a great and successful Gamemaker then you're a bit concerned. To do that sort of stuff, well, you can't even imagine how black and rotten of a soul a person must possess. In fact, you're afraid that t Dr. Gaul might be trying to groom and mold Coryo into something evil- like her.

Grandma'am just nods at her grandson, a thin shaky, but polite, smile on her face, as she reaches for her drink. She wants to seem supportive of her grandson, but she truly knows nothing about the games- other than what she sees on tv. So she clearly doesn't have a clue about how science experiments benefit gamemaking.

And Crassus, well, he's shaking his head and rolling his icy eyes at his firstborn. He doesn't approve of his ventures with science and gamemaking. He'd prefer him to follow his path, to enlist in the peacekeepers as an officer since he'll be earning his degree in the double majors of Military Strategies and Political Science. Crassus feels that his son would be more successful in the military then in science and the media- and gamemaking to General Snow is nothing more than creating a circus for a TV show. A TV show that airs a district punishment where 24 district children fight to the death, but still it's a TV show…

"And the lab rat that I experimented with earlier.." Coryo says as he begins to tell his family about what he did to the so-called ‘lab rat’. He isn't very descriptive, but you can imagine what happened just from the hints that's falling out of his mouth; you can tell that it is a bloody horrible act.

You shudder, dropping your fork- causing it to clatter against the plate. Just hearing the innuendos and poetic words about blood and gore flow from Coriolanus' mouth as he speaks about the lab rat that wicked witch Dr. Gaul has him experimenting on makes you sick. Yes, he's not going in depth with details since everyone's eating dinner, but he's saying enough to make your stomach churn and your blood run cold.

General Crassus Snow had seen the horrors of war during the Rebellion; the Dark Days, so hearing his son's bloody, but sugar coated explanation of what ungodly things he's done to the ‘lab rat’ Dr. Gaul assigned to him didn't bother the military man. But, being a keen observer, Crassus noticed that both his mother and wife were bothered by Coriolanus' low key bragging about his gory and gruesome scientific deeds. So, he decided to intervene on behalf of the women in his life, both young and old.

Crassus pointed his fork at his son, cutting his icy eyes sternly at the pretentious boy across from him, and said, “Coriolanus, son, this isn't an appropriate dinner time talk.”

“I'm not stating graphic details, all I'm doing is-” The young blonde with baby blue eyes attempted to defend his boasting, only to be calmly and coldly interrupted by his father's deep and domineering tone ordering, “Shut up, Coriolanus. I told you, your experiments on your ‘lab rat’ isn't proper talk for a steak dinner.”

Coriolanus obeyed Crassus, but the sour look on his face proves that he wasn't thrilled to be put in his place. That he felt insulted that his father, the great war hero of Panem, wouldn't let him brag about his deeds as Dr. Gaul’s prodigy.

You're grateful to Crassus for getting Coriolanus to stop talking about his internship with Capitol City's resident mad scientist. You're positive that Grandma'am’s relieved that Crassus put an end to Coriolanus' bloody, but poetic scientific innuendos as well.

After dinner everyone goes their own way. You go to the parlor to play gin rummy with Grandma'am while Crassus goes to his study to work on some paperwork he brought home from work. And Coriolanus claimed that he was going to his room to work on a class assignment.

But Coriolanus didn't go to his room to work on his studies. Instead he went to the nursery to spend some father-son bonding time with Cassian. And since he didn't want to be disturbed he didn't announce his plans to anyone.

So, Crassus, believing that the nursery was empty except for Cassian, decided to go check on the baby before diving head first into his paperwork. But when the head of the Snow family approaches he notices that the nursery's door's cracked open; that the light's on. He swears he hears the low baritone of his firstborn wafting from the baby's room.

Curiously, Crassus approaches the door with the movements of a velociraptor. Reaching the door, he spies thru the crack that Coriolanus is standing right above Cassian's crib. Crassus knows that his firstborn wouldn't harm his newborn son, but he can't figure out what he's doing in the nursery. The middle-aged man knows how his oldest son is; that he's cold and manipulative- also a hit with the ladies, so he doesn't understand why he's showing an interest in the baby.

Crassus, despite what Coriolanus may believe, knows more about his son's actions and personality that the boy thinks. Crassus knows that his son has a cold, manipulative, nature that's easily hidden by charm. He also knows that his son desperately craves attention, validation, praise, and affection- much like his mother did. God, Crassus remembers that his first wife seemed to want validation on her beautiful face, which she powdered every chance she got. Coriolanus was a weakling in Crassus' eyes, but he was a weakling that didn't have a loving bone in his body.

So why is Coriolanus bothering a sleeping Cassian for?

And the answer to that question was revealed when Crassus saw Coriolanus scoop up Cassian, only to cradle him in his arms while cooing, "Daddy's here, my baby boy. Daddy loves you, okay?"

Crassus’ icy eyes widened and his earlier suspicions from the day his son was born, when he heard Coriolanus call Y/N mommy hit him full force. Hearing Coriolanus tell Cassian that ‘Daddy's here, my baby boy. Daddy loves you, okay?’ made him start to feel that his oldest son, who he knows had a bit of a reputation with the popular girls at the Academy (including the Dovecote girl that caught the ‘flu’ during the 10th Annual Hunger Games and became a temperamental mess with yellow snake like eyes and rainbow scales littering areas of her skin like a bad case of plaque psoriasis), had targeted and seduced his wife when he wasn't around. Crassus knew that in the early era of his marriage to you that he was rarely home due to being a workaholic; he wouldn't put it past his son (who's his spitting image) to corrupt you with charming lies and batting his long lashes while giving you sweet doe eyes.

Crassus knows how his first wife snagged him; he wouldn't put it past his son to use those tactics while seducing the ladies- including you.

But the general doesn't want to jump to conclusions just yet. Although Coriolanus' murmurs are a clear reason to believe that you had an affair with him, Crassus wants to observe his firstborn's actions and collect evidence before he does anything rash, like confronting him and demanding a DNA test. Being a military man, he wants to have a proper ‘recon’ done and a ‘battle plan’ in place before confronting his weak heir about commiting stepcest with you.

Crassus, after seeing Coriolanus in the nursery, returns to his study to finish up his paperwork. But the cogs in his mind won't stop turning, he can't stop thinking about what he saw and overheard in the nursery. So, he decides to join you and Grandma'am in the parlor room.

“Who's winning?” Crassus asks, coming up to you while you're sitting at the card table, waiting for Grandma'am to make a move.

“I am.” You reply with a smile, looking at your husband as he takes a seat in the empty chair next to you.

Grandma'am turns to her son, who's sitting between you and her at the card table that seats four, and tells him in a blunt, but motherly tone, “Crassus, you'll have to wait until this game's over to join. We've just started a new hand and I'm not folding so you can play.”

Crassus nods, accepting that he won't be joining the game anytime soon.

And then, right as Grandma'am discards a card after drawing one, the loud cry of your son's heard echoing all the way from the nursery on the other side of the penthouse.

Crassus knows that Coriolanus, despite cradling the baby, didn't change Cassian, because if he did the baby wouldn't be crying his lungs out. Oh, isn't Coriolanus so great when it comes to newborn care? Holds a baby, but won't change it. Hell, Crassus will even tell you about how he's changed a few dirty diapers in his youth- not many, but a few whenever he was in his son's nursery and felt/smelled a heavy or wet diaper while holding him.

Hell, if what Crassus overheard Coriolanus say is true (and he hopes it's not because he'd hate to think that you'd cheat on him with his own son) then his heir isn't that great of a father.

But who’s he to judge? Crassus' son’s quite popular with the ladies and might've seduced you. What kind of fathering produces something like that?

“Crassus, can you take my hand? I need to go check on Cassian.” You ask your husband, holding your cards out to him.

Taking the cards from your outstretched hand, causing his fingertips to lightly brush against yours, he assures you, “Go ahead, petal. I'll be fine taking your place against mother in the card game.”

“Thank you.” You tell your husband, a hint of a smile on your lips, before taking off to tend to your baby.

Crassus looks over his hand, concluding that you have descent cards. Not enough to call gin rummy, but they have some potential.

He goes to draw from the deck, only to be bombarded by his mother patting his hand and telling him in that knowing way all mothers have, “I see you're showing a fondness to your wife, Crassus.” She lets his hand go, enabling him to draw his card, while smiling, “Petal’s a lovely pet name for Y/N; very befitting of a Snow wife.”

“Mhm.” Crassus hums, placing his card with the others in his hand.

While he muses over what card to discard, his mother gives him the sage advice of, “Well, I'm glad to see that things are better between the two of you. But, just remember that you should always kiss her good morning and goodnight even if you've had a little tiff. Can't ever let hard feelings or feelings of disinterest take root and fester in a marriage, especially one as fragile as yours.”

“Thank you, mother. I'll be sure to remember that.” Crassus tells Grandma'am while discarding a card he deems useless.

But maybe he shouldn't have discarded that one since his mother snatched it up from the pile and used it to declare gin rummy.

And later that night when you and your husband go to bed, he put his mother's advice to good use. He takes you by surprise when after telling you goodnight he commands in a deep tone, “Come here.”, while sitting up in bed.

You had just laid down and turned your back to him, which you do every night. You didn't feel like getting up, so you countered his request with, “We already said goodnight, Crassus, so go to sleep.”

But Crassus couldn't go to sleep. No, not without kissing you goodnight. If what his mother said was true and goodnight along with good morning kisses kept a marriage from fracturing then he needed to give you one. Lord knows that he never kissed his first wife goodnight or was overly affectionate with her, but Demeter seemed just fine with a transactional intimacy in their marriage. But you're not Demeter, you're you and Crassus has discovered that to put a smile on your face; to keep you happy and from crying that he needs to approach you with interest and intimacy.

Well, he decides that if you're not going to go to him then he'll just have to go to you.

So, Crassus leans over your body, his large frame engulfing yours, And tilts your chin with his large hand, turning your head towards his. And without warning, he brings his face close to yours and presses his lush, pillowy soft lips against yours for a kiss. A kiss that took you aback and lit a spark inside of you.

This kiss was unlike the others that you shared with your husband. Usually they felt mechanical and robotic, something that's done before or during the deed of fucking, but this kiss was fueled by a feeling of some sort. What’s fueling your husband's sudden kiss, you didn't know, but you did know that his kisses had the ability to harbor more than the cold impersonal touch you've grown accustomed to from him. In fact, his lush lips had the ability to inspire heart-rending stirrings.

Without even thinking much of it, your lips chased after his, wanting- no craving more of his kiss, as he began to pull away.

The action made your husband realize that you're touch starved; sent a small pang of guilt in his chest. Crassus couldn't help, but think that maybe that's another reason why you're sad and crying alone in the corner while he's at work. Because the little intimacy that there was between the two of you died once you grew too big in your pregnancy.

“We’ve got 5 more weeks until we can fuck again, so just let me know when the doctor clears you and I'll make up all the lost intimacy to you, okay?” Crassus tells you, his deep tone holding a slight warmness in it that you're not used to hearing, as he caresses your jawline with his thumb.

“Okay.” You tell your husband, already knowing that once your clear bill of health comes in you'll be stuck being his fleshlight- it's just a duty that comes with being Mrs. Y/N Snow.

But now that the surprise kiss is over and Crassus is just staring at you with something unreadable in his icy eyes, caressing your jawline with slow strokes of his thumb, you feel small and vulnerable. Perhaps even foolish in a way; you can't help but feel like you're being toyed with by your bored middle-aged husband because you know deep down in your heart that he doesn't give a shit about you. Hell, he's probably just playing with you to see how fast it'll take to make you melt under his touch before he decides to pull the rug out from under you and use your receptive feelings as a zinger to keep you in line with.

Only the gods know that your husband's a cold, stern, indifferent man that doesn't have a heart. Why would he show you an ounce of affection, if he didn't mean to turn it around into something cruel and uncaring in the end that would just keep you under his thumb?

Feeling a bit overwhelmed and self conscious, your melancholy creeps up on you and tears tickle the back of your eyes. Not wanting to experience a baby blues crying jag during bedtime, you push your husband's hand away from your face and quickly bury your face into your pillow.

Your rejecting touch burnt Crassus' hand worse than any fiery flames could. He couldn't fathom why you reacted the way that you did. Did he do something wrong? He thought that tonight was a good night between the two of you. He asked you about your day once he got home, spent some time with you and the baby, made Coriolanus shut up when his lab rat talk was bothering you at dinner, and had some light banter with you while playing cards with you and his mother. To him, the night went well and there was no reason for you to reject him after his goodnight kiss.

Maybe you're just tired from taking care of the baby all day?

Yes, that has to be it.

Because if it's not, well…Crassus doesn't want to think about that.

The following day Coriolanus was still a bit butthurt over his family not caring about his remarkable scientific breakthroughs and success. He's still salty about his father, the war hero General Crassus Snow, shutting down his talk about the experiments he performed on the lab rat Dr. Gaul assigned him. How dare his father, whose success and grandeur he's been told he has the potential to surpass, make him shut up about his brilliance in the scientific field that accompanies the role of gamemaker- whether that be an assistant or the head gamemaker itself.

The platinum blonde with the halo of curls felt that you at least should've wanted to hear about his natural aptitude for scientific endeavors and gamemaking. But no, you let his father, your damn husband, order him to stop all talk about his efforts with the lab rat. If you ask him, you've turned into a selfish bitch that's either crying or with the baby all the time. Goddamnit, you don't want to do anything (like suck his cock) anymore.

It's bullshit how nobody seems to appreciate his efforts, his intelligence, and his potential for greatness. What the hell kind of family does he have?

Well, he's sure that Tigris would appreciate it, but she's so kindhearted and gentle that he's afraid she'd faint at the reference to blood let alone any other innuendos to his experiments with the lab rat from 12. So, he'll refrain from telling her anything about it when he visits her next at her boutique/above shop condo.

And talk about his personal lab rat, she was doing exceptionally well. She responded to the after experiment tests and check ups with efficiency and skill that most lab rats struggle to possess right away after operations. Oh, yes, the reconditioning of the blank canvas that's the mind of lab rat 12 is going perfectly. In fact, Dr. Gaul says that Coriolanus has a natural talent and skill at molding and creating useless things into something new and functional.

After spending some time deep in the depths of the Citadel, where Dr. Gaul's lab is, doing only the gods know what to the little girl he's now dissociated himself into believing is a lab rat from District 12 instead of a living, breathing human being, Coriolanus found himself in the library at the University. He didn't have any classes today, but he was at the library studying. Coriolanus, despite having the best marks in all of his classes, wanted to remain the A+ student that he is; which is why he's cramming for his upcoming finals.

Finals that will determine if he keeps his spot as the valedictorian or not.

And while his nose is buried in a book for his sociology class Livia Cardew spots him. She's in the library to study for her own finals. She's a finance major, being that her mother owns and operates the largest bank in all of the Capitol let alone Panem, so truly none of her classes will be in the same scope as Coriolanus' considering that he's a double major in Military Strategies and Political Science.

Okay, that's a lie. She shares one class with him. An elective course: Communications. Although he sits in the front and is a total professor's pet and she sits in the middle of the lecture hall, they still share the class. Livia's impressed by his natural wit and way with words, how he delivers speeches in the class with such grace. He's so perfect in the craft of communication that he could very well teach the class; show the professor a thing or two.

Livia's not bad at public speaking, but she's not as poised as Coriolanus. She's a typical Capitolite gossip girl and will ramble on and get off topic during a speech if it's not an assigned prewritten one. If it's a speaking exercise where she has to come up with something on demand, well, she's doomed if the speech has to last more than 3 or 4 minutes. She's a proper young lady of Capitol City, Panem, but a snobby elitist all the same; sad to say gossiping is a main part of that.

But seeing Coriolanus sitting alone at a table on the second floor of the library feels like the opportune moment to grab his attention. Yes, Livia has been teasing Coriolanus for years (she was a straight up terror to him in their later Academy years) but she knew that her role in life, other then taking over her mother's bank since her brother was a useless drunk and her father’s been on a permanent vacation in 1 at a ski lodge since she was 10, was to bag herself a wealthy and successful husband. And who better than Coriolanus Snow, the heir to the esteemed Snow family, to raise her station in high society?

So, the dirty blonde walks over to Coriolanus' table with a mission in mind: snatch him up in her claws.

Setting her bag down on the table near the scattering of notes, Livia takes a seat next to Coriolanus all the while asking, “May I sit with you, Coriolanus?”

The young man with light blonde curls raised his head up to look at the dirty blonde who'd just plopped down in the seat next to him. Honestly, he hated her; she grated on his nerves. But Coriolanus knew that demanding that she leave him alone would be bad manners; would make him look rude and ungentlemanly. He couldn't afford Livia, one of the biggest gossiping bitches in his social circle, to spread the word around that he's an ill-mannered oaf.

No, that would ruin all of his future plans of greatness and grandeur.

Nodding, he gives the dirty blonde girl a fake smile. “Of course you may, Livia.” Coriolanus politely says before going back to his studies.

Livia digs her books and notes out of her large designer bag while asking, “What class are you studying for?”

“Sociology of Deviant Behavior. Dr. Gaul, my mentor, teaches it.” Is the answer Coriolanus gives the girl that he hates, who's opening up a book for one of her finance classes.

“I'm a finance major, so I've never taken that class. What's it about?”

Flipping his page in his book, Coriolanus answers Livia with, “Essentially Dr. Gaul teaches about the forms of social deviance, theories on them and the societal responses to them.”

“Oh, so it's about criminal and social control.” Livia concludes, pretending to show an interest in the blonde boy's class in order to reel him in. What? She'll be graduating University soon, she needs to start thinking about finding a potential husband; who better than the Snow heir?

Hearing Livia take an interest in his sociology class strokes Coriolanus' bruised ego. Oh, maybe, just maybe she'd like to hear about his work with his lab rat?

“Dr. Gaul assigned me a lab rat, some wretch of a thing from district 12 that was caught roaming around in the woods, to perform experiments on for her sociology class.” Coriolanus tells Livia as an opening to see if she'd like to hear more about his experiments with the lab rat.

“What kind of experiments can a sociology class on deviancy consist of?” Livia asks, not because she cares but because she wants Coriolanus to think that she does. She wants to woo him and what better way to do that then to appeal to his mind and his accomplishments with his mentor.

“Behavioral correction experiments that focus on reprogramming the mind.” Explains Coriolanus while adding to the notes he has scattered on the table. Apparently he read something in his textbook that he forgot to write down previously.

“Are those kinds of experiments hard to do?”

“Yes,” Coriolanus nods, “usually they are, but Dr. Gaul says I'm a gifted prodigy of hers.” Lifting his head from the book his nose was buried in and turning to capture Livia's attention, he brags, “All of my experiments have been done successfully without any oversight by my mentor; she even told me that I have the potential to be a greater man than my father.”

Hearing that peeked Livia's interest. If Dr. Gaul thought that Coriolanus had the potential to surpass his war hero father then he'd surely be a worthy catch. Smiling, she urges, “Please, tell me all about your successful experiments.”

“Of course, Livia. I'd be delighted to.” Coriolanus grinned like the Cheshire cat before going on to tell Livia all about the expe on his ‘lab rat’, using the exact same language and poetic innuendos he used the previous night with his family.

And when Livia showed an interest in Coriolanus' achievements and accomplishments scientifically, well, it made him feel powerful. It also made it feel like the only one that cares is the girl that bullied him while growing up, the girl whose hyena laugh he can't stand, the very girl he hates.

But by spending time in the library with the snobby, shallow girl he hates, Coriolanus is able to brag about his experiments without being shunned or shamed. Which led to Coriolanus asking Livia out to lunch; of course she accepted his offer.

A lunch offer that would be the beginning of something and the end of something all at the same time.

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @princess-harvey @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3 @jacesvelaryons @tempt-ress @nayveetbhh @someonefromwutheringheights

[mammalsofaction]

Missing You

Rating: T

Relationships: Heinz Doofenshmirtz/Perry the Platypus, Balthazar Cavendish/Vinnie Dakota

Add tags: Takes place between Escape and Milo in Space, Perryshmirtz centric, human Perry the Platypus, post break up arc, post confessional and apology, making up and making out in an open plan room with pre teens in them, everything is good and going right and will go absolutely horrendously wrong in a couple of moments, if you ignore the fact that they're all looking for a pre-teen abducted by aliens you can pretend this is fluff, OLD MAN YAOI!!!!!!!!!!, simp Perry, I was only meant to hurt you in the right way 🥺

"How did you know we were here, anyway?"

Perry had not exactly been hiding, but he feels found anyway, his smile involuntary as a kid who finds himself caught in game of tag in a school playground. Heinz approaches him carefully, arms tucked behind his back like he's keeping himself in check, so Perry stills himself, remembering that it isn't quite his place to reach out now, not anymore.

Carl, he signs--the C sign blending into the leader sign, pinching the tips of his left hand with the curl of his right. Heinz let out a little Ah, noise, and his eyes downcast. Like he's disappointed.

There is silence between them, as it rarely ever is, and rarer still the awkwardness in the air as they think of all the words they should be saying, that should be said, and how to say them. Perry consoles himself with the fact that Heinz had at least yet to leave, but he leaves a gap between them like a gulf Perry isn't sure how to bridge.

It isn't often that Heinz Doofenshmirtz is ever lost for words, so Perry--as he always does--meets him in the middle.

Did you get my card? He asked, because he needed to know. Because he'd worried about it endlessly since he'd sent it, because it had kept him awake at night, thinking if it was too much, or too little.

But Heinz smiles by the mention of it, baby blue eyes sparkling under the alien fluroscence, and all at once it was worth it.

"That you sent through Vanessa?" Heinz chuckles, confirming. "Foul of you, Perry the Platypus, using my daughter to send our messages back and forth like some sort of owl postman. She's got better things to do with her time, you know."

He did know. Vanessa had consented anyway, had in fact been loudly enthusiastic with the idea once she found out about their current disagreement, and had loudly scolded Perry for being a 'Dumbass idiot who shouldn't be keeping things to himself when they've all established the fact that communication was what kept this relationship from falling apart despite literally both of your entire careers.'

Having only sent the one card had been an act of restraint. On his worst nights, Perry had imagined breaking into the Murphy residence on the other side of town and crawling on his knees for forgiveness, but even after all this time, he was still too afraid of showing his belly even to the people he loved.

I did, you know, he tells him, because he couldn't let himself be vulnerable then, and the next best time was now. Miss you.

"Yeah," Heinz said. "I-uh. I missed you too. Probably Vinnie could tell. The kids, too."

Vinnie, huh? Perry teased, to hide the sudden heartache, and that all too familiar snarl of jealousy. Didn't realize you guys were on a first name basis.

Heinz gives him a look like he could tell, anyway. Perry pulls at his collar, blushing.

Sorry, he signs.

Heinz sighs. "It's whatever. We were just two lonely guys looking to distract ourselves from our missing other halves, I suppose."

Perry chooses to latch on to the latter half of that sentence. I'm your other half?

Heinz stares at him, his hands, then back into his eyes. "You're kidding, right?"

I didn't think, Perry's hands flutter, and fails him. I thought you'd, I thought I'd really,

But then it didn't matter what he couldn't say, because Heinz bridges the gulf himself, and Perry feels the kiss, before he'd even caught his move, and even after all this time their lips fit together like puzzle pieces, and Perry falls forward like a broken stone wall.

Missing you, he had written on the card, because it had been the most accurate plead he could think of. You were missing from me.

It's deep, but brief, on account of being met with a chorus of loud protests and jeers from their unwilling audience, and Zack Underwood yelling loudly, and pointedly, that this spaceship was open plan, people, come on. Perry pulls away first, chuckling and feeling lighter than he has for months, while Heinz rolled his eyes. He does not, at least, take his hand away now that it has settled into Perry's hip, and he feels so happy he could die. He buries his face into Heinz's shoulder as he scolds the children for interrupting an adult conversation, while Melissa Chase comments lightly that, technically, the bathroom was closed off.

"Bathroom for adult conversations, got it." Dakota quips, and Cavendish hits him over the head without even looking up from where he's handling the ship's hull control.

"I'm 14!" Underwood shrieks in an impressive high tone as Perry begins to laugh. Poor stranded boy in space aside, he thinks things are really starting to look up.

[moonlight-prose]

✧ SWEET WORDS OF SIN ✧

a/n: i really should be writing these during the day and not at 3am when i really just want to sleep. so that's why this fic ends with the aspect of sleep. because i was so tired. it's messy and probably not that great, but it's joel. which means i am head over heels in love for that man and all i create for him.

day twenty - praise kink | kinktober 2023

summary: "there was a certain high that came from this. having a man like joel miller relenting to your every word, all to hear those sweet words fall from your lips. as delicious as a glass of wine and just as sinful."

word count: 1.8k+

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, praise kink and joel has the kink, sub!joel (it's happening people!!), dom!reader, p in v sex, choking, joel's brain going empty from getting fucked so good.

Your words stuck with him the most.

On days when he needed to hear the sound of your voice, the lilt in how you spoke and the cadence of your tone, he’d go back to words you’d already said to him. Small things that would keep him sane and steady throughout the days. Especially when things got a little too hard to bear.

But on days when he needed just a bit more. When his frustration often got the best of him, patience thin and wavering on snapping or staying put, he’d ask for more. He would seek out the words that would numb his brain. Give him the serenity he’d been searching for after hours of stress. Today was no different. Work had driven him to the brink of anger, everything going wrong for longer than he would have liked.

Which led to the situation he found himself falling into without the ability to slam on the brakes.

It was a shitty comment. A snide remark directed not entirely at you—but still at you—that had you narrowing your eyes at him, hand shooting out to grip at his jaw and yank his eyes back to you. One single move that shoved him back into a place of safety he only found when he was with you. His mouth parted, eyes dazed as you asked him to repeat himself. The tip of your tongue, sharper than the kitchen knife on the counter beside you.

He had apologized sheepishly. Red stained his face and hands clutched onto you to find some forgiveness. But you could see the weight that was on his shoulders. The need for release so pent up in his body that he would burst if you looked at him too long.

So you cupped his cheek, dragged his lips to yours and whispered: “Go strip and lay on the bed for me honey.”

The shiver that went through his body was involuntary. But before you could press another kiss to his lips, he was pulling away. Heading directly for the bedroom, his hands already pulling at his black t-shirt. You traced the sinew muscles of his back as you followed him, the way they moved beneath his skin while he worked to follow your request.

There was a certain high that came from this. Having a man like Joel Miller relenting to your every word, all to hear those sweet words fall from your lips. As delicious as a glass of wine and just as sinful.

You smiled, leaning against the door frame when he undid the button on his pants, letting them drop. Each small action, just as enticing as the one before. It made your mouth water, slick pooling quickly into your panties at the sight of him turning around to face you. His cock jutting up towards his stomach, the tip practically begging to be put in your mouth.

“Go on baby,” you breathed.

He laid on the bed, head pressed against the pillows and hands balling up the sheets beneath him. Other days he’d fall asleep like this. More than happy to gain a few extra hours. But Joel could feel the burn of your eyes on his skin. The way they traced every line and curve of his body until you reached his face again—the black of your pupil spreading even wider than before.

“This is what you needed huh.”

Kneeling on the bed, you swung your leg over his lap until you were settled, your hands pressed to his bare chest. He sucked in a breath, hands grasping at the soft flesh of your thighs. If only to ground himself.

Nodding, he dug his teeth into his bottom lip. A soft sound echoing in the back of his throat. That alone made you smile, knowing he was giving himself over to you this way. Allowing himself to free the control he had over everything in his life and hand it over to you for this short amount of time. You always told him he could only handle so much in life—that to hand it off to someone else wasn’t a bad thing.

Rarely did he heed your advice.

“Tell me what you want,” you said softly, moving your hand up to cup his cheek—thumb tracing his plush bottom lip.

“Ride me.”

You cocked your head slightly, delighting in the way his throat bobbed. “Baby…”

“Please,” he breathed, his cock twitching at the sight of your lips curving into a smile. “I need it darlin’. Gotta feel you.”

Without a response, you lifted yourself slightly, reaching beneath your slip dress and sliding your panties to the side. You’d worry about getting undressed afterwards. When he was a bit more relaxed as you worked him up to a round two. He whined breathlessly when your hand wrapped around his leaking cock, eyes fluttering shut and mouth dropping as sparks jolted up his spine. Joel could feel the thoughts slip away from his mind. Every worry he had before this now turned to ash and smoke.

“F-Fuck honey,” he grunted, fingers digging into your hips when you moved. Kneeling to hover over his cock.

“Tell me again Joel.”

His eyes snapped open—a red flush overtaking his chest and face. “Please. Fuck please darlin’. Fuck me. Lemme feel your pussy. I’ll be good for you.”

The last words nearly caused you to pitch forward, your chest rattling at the echo of their desperation. A tone that seared into your bones, causing heat to pool at the base of your spine. You leaned down to catch his mouth in a kiss, licking into him deeply until his hips bucked up into your hold, a whine ripping from his chest.

Joel was known to take control in situations like this, but you could see the pure need in his eyes. It awoke the primal part of you, something so deep and raw you nearly pushed it away. Is this what he felt as he took you apart? The ache that echoed through your entire body.

“You are good for me,” you whispered, planting a hand on his chest as the other notched him at your entrance. “My good boy.”

He cried out when you took him one thrust, his head pushing back into the pillow—neck strained and begging for you to mark it. His chest heaved as he sucked in breath after breath in an attempt to control the urge he had to grind into you. Once again allowing you to tell him what to do. Your walls fluttered around him, another wave of slick coating him as you shifted gently. Testing to see if he was ready.

“I-I’m okay,” he gasped, hands gripping onto your hips so tightly you’d feel sore tomorrow.

“Open your eyes for me Joel.”

With a deep breath, his eyes met yours. They were nearly consumed by his pupil—lust clouding his vision as he stared up at you. Gazing upon something so fucking ethereal he swore he was no longer on Earth. A smile spread across your lips, eyes drooped and dazed, and Joel could feel his heart thud rapidly against his chest.

“So pretty,” you breathed, finally starting to move.

Lifting yourself off his cock, you watched his face in rapture, his eyebrows pulling tight and lips parting. Before you dropped back down. Dragging another cry from him. Lasting long wasn’t an option anymore and you both knew that. Which is why you wasted no time in giving him exactly what he wanted. You repeated the motion over and over, fucking yourself on his cock with a need that had your mouth dropping open as you took in harsh breaths.

Joel watched as you lost yourself in the pleasure. Changing the angle as needed to find that perfect spot that made you cry out, your hands pressing to his chest and nails digging into his skin. The fire had been lit long before this even started and this merely spurred it on. Causing it to tear through his body like he was a forest and you were the flame. Consuming him without measure.

“You feel amazing,” you gasped, eyes meeting his. Pleasure struck him like lightning at the sight of your debauched expression—eyes drinking in the expressions he wore. “So good for me. Letting me fuck myself on your cock.”

He groaned, eyes nearly fluttering shut until your hand wrapped around his throat. Bringing him right back to the present. You pressed down gently, not yet ready to cut off his air flow.

“How much do you want it baby?”

“Shit,” he gasped, hips bucking up and forcing a moan from your lips. “I want it so bad darlin’. Want to cum. Let me fill you up. Please baby. Please.”

Completely at your mercy is where he stood. The heady look in his eyes caused your own release to flicker brightly in your body. You were right there with him. On the precipice of falling into that sweet spot of insanity. Where madness offered you infinite pleasure beyond what you could imagine. Which is why you finally gave into his pleading; pressing your hand down, you gave him the okay to finally take what he wanted from you.

To lose himself in your body.

Gripping your hips tightly, he slammed up into you with a pained grunt. Watching as your head fell back, hips meeting him with every thrust. The head of his cock pounded into that spot along your walls that made your toes curl. A dizzying high of bliss nearly caused you to fold in on yourself, but his hold kept you in place and upright. He gasped for air, his eyes rolling back with each forceful thrust, until he felt it.

The way his entire body locked up beneath you. A disjointed cry of your name spitting from his lips as he spurted into you and filled you so full you swore it would drip out. Joel nearly came again when he felt you tighten around his cock, your lips sliding against his to muffle the echo of your moan. The taste of their bliss now melting onto his tongue.

Neither of you knew how long you spent simply trying to catch your breath. Your hand sliding from his neck to tangle in his hair—playing with the curls that were streaking in gray.

“How do you feel?” you asked, kissing his jaw softly.

He sighed, hands moving to press you even closer—the weight from earlier now dissipated to the back of his mind. “Like I can breathe again.”

You smiled. “I’m glad.”

“Gotta get up though. Or else I’m gonna fall asleep on ya.”

Pressing a kiss to his chest, you let your body settle. The drowsiness settling in, tempting you into its comforting hold. “‘S okay,” you mumbled. “We can sleep for a bit.”

He kissed your head, grabbing onto the blankets and moving them until they covered the both of you. “Just for a bit,” he whispered, giving into the sweetness of sleep.

[roxygen22]

Still Here (Chapter 13)

Series Finale

Summary: The happy ending I promised you! Timothée proposes.

C/W: mention of deadbeat dad

Catch up on previous chapters here.

>>six weeks after Christmas<<

"So I got a call today." Timothée announced at dinner with you, Madison, and your parents. "One of my investors wants me to open a furniture store in Kentucky. I'm going to go check out a spot next week."

"Oh, that's wonderful, Timothée!" your mother cheered. Your dad shared similar (but calmer) sentiments. You, on the other hand, bounced up and down in your seat and then kissed him on the cheek.

"I'm so proud of you!" you said gleefully. Your excitement quickly stalled, though, when you looked over at Madison, who just stared down at her plate. She set down her utensils and pushed herself away from the table. Next thing you knew, you heard the front door slam shut. You looked at Timothée wide-eyed.

"What was that about?" he asked. You shrugged. Her reaction came out of left field. You both stood to go check on her. You expected to find her in her usual spot on the porch swing, but she was nowhere in sight. Your heart rate rose in slight panic as you looked out from the porch and saw nothing but darkness.

"Madison?!" you cupped your hands and yelled as you scanned the yard.

Timothée walked toward his truck and spotted the girl's blonde hair over the top of the seat. He caught your attention with a wave and pointed to the passenger side. You nodded in acknowledgment. Unsure what to do with yourself, you sat on the top porch step to stay close just in case you were needed.

Madison was sitting in the passenger seat with her arms crossed, staring out the front window. She cut her eyes at Timothée and glared as he climbed in on the driver's side.

"I had a feeling I'd find you here," he said softly.

"Go away. That's what you're good at," she snipped.

Timothée recoiled from her words as he reached for the door to shut it behind him. "What? I don't under-"

She turned to him and shouted, "You...you said you loved us! Now you're going away and I won't get to see you anymore," her eyes dropped, "just like I don't see my dad. He doesn't come to visit or ask me to come. He doesn't even call much anymore. You're going to forget me like he did. And hurt my mom."

Timothée's brows furrowed in confusion. "Madison, I'm not-"

"You JUST said you have to go to Kentucky!" she interrupted accusingly. Her breathing hitched and she started bawling. Timothée froze in shock, taking a couple of moments to realize Madison thought he was moving away.

"Oh- oh, kiddo, no no no." He draped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her to his chest. He rested his cheek on the top of her head. "I will have a new shop in Kentucky, but I will only have to go there every once in a while."

"Y- you're not leaving?" Madison asked, voice stilted by involuntary gasps. She pulled back to look at him.

Timothée shook his head. "I'm so sorry you thought that's what I meant. I'm not going anywhere, certainly not without you and your mother."

"Oh." She ducked her head in embarrassment.

He pulled her in for a big squeeze again. "I could never forget you, not in a million years. I can't answer why your father acts the way he does. Sounds like he still has some things he needs to work through. But I know it has absolutely nothing to do with you. You are a beautiful, amazing, kind human being who deserves all the love in the world. Same for your mother."

He felt her nod against his shoulder and reach up with her small hand to wipe her cheek.

"In fact," he paused and looked around. "Can I tell you a secret?" Madison looked up at him and nodded. "I have been wanting to ask your mother to marry me, but I wanted to see how you feel about it first."

She quickly pushed herself upright and placed both hands over her mouth in surprise. "Really?!"

"I know it may seem quick, but I have loved her for practically as long as I can remember. And you, missy," he said through his teeth as he poked her ticklish spot on her side, which induced the desired giggles. "I've had a soft spot for you ever since I met you."

After Madison's laughing died down, she sat silent for a few moments in thought. "Would that make you my dad?" she asked timidly as she looked up at him through her eyelashes.

"Well, you already have a father. And I'm not trying to step in and replace him. But," he paused to cup the back of her head with his large hand, "I already love you like you are my daughter. And that won't change even if your mother says no."

She nodded, brows scrunching before her face lit up with a smile. "I- I love you, too. You'd be like...like a bonus dad!" She leaned over to rest her head on his shoulder and sighed contentedly. The two stayed that way for a bit before Madison broke the silence again.

"She won't say no. When are you going to ask her?"

"I'm not sure, though I should probably do it soon so you don't have to keep it secret for long."

"I can handle it!" she exclaimed as she pushed herself away from him.

Timothée laughed and held his finger up to his mouth. "Shh! I'm sure you can. Got any ideas?"

Madison rested her thumb and index finger on her chin in contemplation. "Actually, I do."

<><><><><><>

You steered the cart through the grocery store, frequently checking your list and grumbling to yourself about prices going up.

"Mom, I'm going to the cereal aisle," you heard Madison announce.

"Okay, I'll meet you over there in just a minute," you called back. You grabbed a couple more items from the baking aisle, then strolled around the corner to find her.

And find her you did, standing next to Timothée. He looked quite handsome in his nice button-down shirt, jeans, and boots. As always, his presence brought a smile to your face.

"Oh, hey! What are you do-" you started to question, but you were cut short when he dropped to one knee. You gasped and covered your mouth.

"The last time I was on this aisle with you," he started, "my heart skipped a beat. I thought I was dreaming. I thought there was no way, after all of these years, that I was seeing my [Y/N], the girl I thought I had lost for good because I wasn't brave enough to follow her when she asked. I know what life is like without you, and I never plan on letting you go again, if you'll have me."

He brought out a handcarved wooden box and opened it to reveal the most beautiful ring you had ever seen. You looked over at Madison, who was beaming up at you. She nodded at you to show her support. With a watery smile, you looked back at Timothée and squeaked out a "yes."

The three of you were oblivious to the crowd that had gathered around you. You startled when they began to cheer. Timothée launched himself up from his position on one knee and captured your face in his hands to kiss you. He then took your left hand in his and slid the ring onto your finger.

"I knew she'd say yes!" Madison cheered.

You pulled her to your side for a hug. "You were in on this?" you asked tearily.

"Yep!" She looked up at Timothée. "Told you I could keep a secret!"

"I didn't doubt you for a second, kiddo." He looked back at you and squeezed your hand. "Ready to tackle forever?"

<><><><><>

Masterlist

Tag list:

@croatianprincess

@bluizh

@jindongdongie

@groovyqueer

[littlemissomega]

Meeting the Coworkers Part 1

Warnings: smut, kinda threesome [steve doesnt really do anything] dom!steve x innocent!sub!reader x dom!peter parker, overstimulation, oral [f receiving], mention of oral m recieving, fingering, mention of virginity, degrading, squirting, overuse of the words 'whimpers' and 'chuckles' (yes that's a warning)

Summary: Steve has been clear about his polyamorous relationship with some of his coworkers since he started dating Y/N, but she never really wanted to meet any of them. Steve intrudices her to Peter first, and things get heated

Masterlist

"Are you sure you're ready for this, princess? Cause if not, we can always kick him out and-"

"Stevie," Y/N interrupts, "I-I'm ready! I want to…to try,"

"Okay, babygirl, let me call him in,"

Steve runs his hand up and down Y/N's soft thigh.

"Peter, you can come in now!" Steve calls.

Y/N's breath catches in her throat and she curls in closer to Steve when she sees him. 

Steve and Y/n have been dating for a year and she's never been happier. Steve made sure she knew off the nst that he has in a polyamorous relationships with a few people he works with, but she should not feel pressured at all the become apart of it. So it had just been the two of them for a year.

But Y/N got increasingly more curious about that part of Steve's life.

"You remember Peter, dont you, princess?" Steve asks gently.

Y/N nods. She remembers the day she and Steve were out getting coffee and Peter just "happened' to be there. He made her even more curious. And a few other emotions she didn't quite understand.

He made her blood light on fire, just like Stevie does, which confused her. She didn't want to cheat on Steve, she loves him! One night, she confessed the feelings she had to Steve, and he just chucked and kissed her nose. 

"Hi, darlin'! You look pretty today!" Peter smiles.

Y/N cheeks flush at the complement.

"T-thank you," she stutters.

"Awww she such a cutie, Steve! Can't even take a complement without blushing!"

"I know! She's my shy llittle baby," Steve chuckles.

Y/N blushes even harder and fiddles with the hem of her sundress. She's sitting on the bed between Steve's legs. She doesn't even hear Peter talking to her through her blushing. Peter sits down on the bed and gently grabs her chin, making her look up st him.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you, babygirl,"

Y/N let's out an involuntary whimper, causing both men to chuckle.

"What do you say when you understand, princess?" Steve asks.

"Yes, sir," Y/N responds.

"Good girl," steve whispers in her ear.

"You've got her trained right up, don't you?" Peter chuckles, "you wanna lay back, pretty girl?"

Y/N looks back at Steve and he nods. She scoots forward on the bed so she can lay back, making sure to hold the hem of her dress so it doesn't ride up. Steve positions her head in his lap and she looks up at him with wide, doe eyes.

"Are you sure you want this, bunny?" Steve asks one last time 

"Uh huh!"

"Do you remember your safe word?"

"Red," Y/N nods.

"Good girl! You hear that, Peter?" Steve asks, looking up at his boyfriend, "she says red and you stop,"

"Sir yes sir," Peter chuckles.

"Daddy?" Y/N whispers.

"Yes, bunny?" Steve respinds.

"Is he gonna be gentle?"

"Even gentler than me" Steve chuckles.

"Can you h-hold my hand, Daddy?"

"Of course, pretty girl," Steve smiles, lacing his fingers with hers

Peter positions himself in front of Y/N's clamped shut thighs and grabs the hem of her dress; going to take it off.

"Wait," Yn interrupts, "C-can I keep it on? Just f-for now?"

"Of course, princess," Steve and Peter respond at the same time.

Y/N always been insecure about her body. She thinks she too short, and as Steve likes to call it, 'curvy'.

Peter flips the hem of her skirt up just so her white cotton panties show. 

"You gott open your pretty thighs if you want me to do anythjng," Peter chuckles, gently rubbing her thighs.

Y/N lets out another whimper and hides her face in Steve's lap.

"Can I kiss you?" Peter asks, wanting yn to feel more comfortable.

Yn looks up at steve as if she's asking permission.

"Whatever you're comfortable with, bunny," Steve smiles, stroking her hair.

"Yes please," yn whispers.

Peter moves up so he's straggling yn and lowers his lips down to hers. He smells like peppermint and kisses her gently and reassuringly. It takes her breath away and went he pulls away and moves down to her neck, she's gasping.

"A-arent you gonna…give Stevie a kiss?" Yn asks quietly.

"Awww silly baby!" Steve chuckles, "always thinking 'bout her Daddy!"

Steve grabs Peter's chin and kisses him passionately. Yn whimpers at the heated sight above her.

"Good boy," Y/N hears Steve mumble into Peter's lips.

Steve pulls away from the kjss.

"Now get to work," Steve chuckles.

Peter kisses down yns neck and her eyes flutter closes.

"You're so beautiful," Peter mumbles.

Warmth blooms through y/n. Steve calls her beautiful every day, but it's weird hearing it from someone else. Nice, but weird.

"Thank y-you,"

"Oh such polite little baby! Did you Daddy teach you that?" Peter asks.

"Uh huh!" Yn nods.

"Now, be a good girl and open those pretty thigh," peter croons.

Yn buries her face back in Steve's lap as she slowly spreads her thighs. Peter settles between them and smirks at the little wet patch.

"I've surprised Steve doesn't have you in little lacy panties!" Peter chuckles.

"Daddy loves my pa- oooh," yns moan interrupts her and peter gently strocks her clit through her panties.

"So sensitive! Look at me," peter voices.

But y/n keeps her face hidden. Steve reaches down and spanks Yns thigh. She gasps and looks up at him in shcok.

"You know better! You've gonna give me a reputation of not knowing how to keep my little baby slut in line! Listen to Peter or else!" Steve snaps 

"I'm sorry Daddy!" Y/n whimpers.

Y/n looks down at Peter and he keeps eye contact with her and he slowly tugs her panties down. She squirms under his intense gaze, but she doesn't look at. Yn doesnt want her Daddy to get mad again!

The cold air hits yns wet pussy and she gasps, attempting to close her legs, but Peter stops her.

"Fuck, what a pretty pussy!" Peter croons.

Y/n's face flushes even more.

Peter continues looking at her and he lowers his lips to her pussy and gives her clit a little kitten lick. Yn jolts and moans as Peter continues. Her toes curl and she clutches Steve's hand.

"Sweetest fucking pussy I've ever had," Peter mumbles into her, the vibrations jolting her core.

"Ngjjff Daddyyy," she moans.

"What, pumpkin? I'm not the one makes your pretty pussy feel good, Peter is!" Steve chuckles, leaning down to kiss her nose.

Yn states up at steve with wide eyes as Peter continued lightly lapping her clit. She squirms at the sensation. Warmth grows in yns core quickly.

"You know what she really likes?" Steve voices, turning his attention to Peter. He stops and looks up to listen, making yn whimper, "when you give her clit a little smack. I've made her cum before from just spanking her clit!"

"Oh really? What a naughty little slut!" Peter croons, smaking yns clit.

Yns back jolts off the bed and the tries moving away from peter to escape the sensation, but that just causes him to do it more.

"Sit still," Steve snaps.

"I'm sorry, Daddy, it's just-just nghfjfhf too much!" Yn blabbers.

"I've barely touched you!" Peter inserts.

He smacks her clit again before leaning down and plant a soft kiss. The kiss turns into sucking on it. Yn moans as she gets closer to her release. 

"D-daddy I'm gonna cum! Can I please cum?"

"I'm not the one you need to ask, doll,"

Yn looks down at peter, her face bright red.

"Peter please," she whimpers.

"Please what?" Peter asks mockinglg, switching to rubbing circles on her clit.

"Peter please please please gonna cum oh please please can I cum, sir?" Yn babbles.

"Good girl. Cum for me, baby,"

Yn throws her head back and grips the sheets and fire corses through her vveins. peter gently works her through her orgasum. She bites down on her lip to try and muffle some of her moans.

But once yn starts to relax again, peter goes straight back to work. He goes to slip two fingers in, but then realizes y/n's sopping hole is far too tight for that. He's able to slip the tip on one in, but barely. He moves his mouth from her clit as she squirms uncomfortably from the stretch and sensitivity from her last orgasam.

"Fuck she's tigher than a virgin!" Peter coments.

"That's cause she is one!" Steve chuckles.

Peter looks up in shock.

"You haven't popped her cherry yet?"

"Nope! I've tried loads of times, but Daddy's fat cock is just too big for your little baby pussy, isn't it?" Steve asks yn.

"No wonder you're wound so tight when you come over! Wands couldn't walk for a week after y'alls last date! You've been using up all your self restraint here!"

Yn feels a pang of guilt. Is she hurting her Daddy? Is he bitter than he hasn't been able to 'pop her cherry's? She starts feeling even more guilty when Steve leans down and softly kisses her.

"I love you., baby bear. And I've already told you, we're taking this at tihr pass. So stop thinking about it!" Steve whispers getnly.

"Damn she's dripping down my wrist and I can barely get one finger in!" Peter voices, finally easing his finger in.

"Relax your pretty pussy, baby," Steve orders gently, "it'll feel better if you do,".

Yn sniffles as peter works his finger in and out of her, digging her nails into Steve's hand.

"I can see what you mean, man," peter starts, sliding his finger in and out slowly, "she'd probably suffocate your dick off if you tried to put it in!"

"Oh yeah! My little baby is just so much smaller than me! I've never been able to get more than two fingers in her pretty pussy, even after making her cum till she's dumb and with lube!" Steve explains.

"I can see why!"

"I've tried putting my cock in before, but I just can't make even the tip fit, and she cries so hard I just can't,"

"Daddyyy," Y/N whimpers, her face flaming red, "staph it!"

"Stop what?" Steve asks mockinglg.

Yn struggles to form words with Peter's finger in her pussy, and his thumb starting to rub circles on her swollen clit.

"Stop talking a-about putting…..you in m-me," yn stutters embarrassedly.

"Aww bunny! You had my cock in your mouth just this morning and can't even say the word!"

"Daddy shhh!"

Y/n's thighs start quivering even more as another climax builds.

"Do I need to put my cock back in your mouth so maybe you remember to word?" Steve asks.

Yn jumps at the idea and crans her head back furture.

"Uh huh uh huh uh huh! Please Daddy, I'll be good! Wanna make you feel good Daddy!" Yn responds excitedly but yet still so innocently.

"Oh I was just messing with you, baby bunny! Right now is just about you and making your pretty pussy feel good.

Yns face drops and eter chuckles into her pusy, making her moan.

"B-but Daddy I-" yn starts.

"Maybr if you're good, I'll let you suck on Daddys cock later," steve smirks, pating her cheek.

"Damn, Rogers, you've got her giving you blow jobs as a reward?"

"She's a Daddy's girl," steve ssmirks. 

Peter startd sliding his finger in and out faster and yns pussy flutters around him more. Yn struggles to contain her sounds, and Peter and Steve can tell.

"Let me hear you, pretty girl," Peter orders.

"B-but-"

"Stop muffling your pretty moans or you won't be cumming for a month," Steve snaps.

Yns moans start bubbling over as the last of her pride finally melts awat. Her body ie on fire.

"Good girl," peter chuckles, "does that feel good?"

"Fuck fuck f-fuck feels s-jfkfjfhfj so good! Can I cum again, sir?" Yn blubbers himystrrically, her brain foggy with pleasure.

"What a dirty mouth! Cum for me, dirty girl," Peter responds.

"Look at him while you cum," Steve orders, moving yns head so she has to looking in Peter's eyes while she cums.

Yn moans and squirms and pants through her orgasm. Fire engulfs her belly and she squirts all over Peter's face. She has to request the urge to let her eyes flutter shut.

"Fuck shes a squirter?" Peter moans.

"Oh all the time! I'm surprised she didn't earlier! She must be dehydrated. Have you not been drinking enough water today, bug?" Steve asks.

Yn just whimpers, not able to form words after another intense climax. Peter keeps going at first, then he stops. Yn let's out a sigh of relief, knowing she'd be even more sensitive after that. Her eyes flutter shut and she relaxes against the mattress.

Then she feels the tip of something hard and warm against her puffy pussy lips and jumps. Peter slides is cock through her soaking, sensitive folds and yn lets out a strangled cry, looking up at Steve. He smirks at her.

"Daddy," she cries.

"What is it, bug?"

"Too mu-much! Too sensitive!"

Yns magic blocking bracket flows as it works to keep her powers from overtaking her. When she gets overwhelmed, it's hard for her to control her magic, which is why Steve had Bruce make her the bracelet.

"Take it like a good girl, bunny,"

Peter's rough jeans rub against her thighs and she lets a loud moan.

Yn feel so warm it's maddening, and she starts tugging on her dress.

"Off off off please, Daddy, want it off!" Yn cries, her voice muddles with pleasure.

"Okay, baby boo, one second," Steve smirks.

Steve pulls his girlfriend's dress off over her head and throws it off the bed. Yn feels Peter's cock get even harder as he looks up and down her body.

"Fuck, you really did get a good one, Rogers,"

"Damn right I did,"

Steve reaches down and runs Y/N's nipple through her bra.

"Can I take this off too, pumpkin?" Steve asks, tugging on her bra.

Yn can barely hear him with Peter grinding against her core, so she just nods. Steve quickly takes off her bra to reveal yns hard nipples.

"Oh bunny, you're gonna be the death of me," Steve moans, looking down at her fucking out face.

Steve pinches her nipples between his fingers and she whimpers, twitching from all the stimulation.

Yn orgasm builds so quickly it feels like a freight train about to hit.

"Fuck daddy fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fhck fuck," she babbles, "I can't cant cant too much ooh fhck,"

"Yes you can. Be a good girl and cum for Peter one more time,"

"Come on, pretty girl, I can feel you getting close. Cum all over my cock, honey," Peter moans.

Yn squirms everywhere, almost like she's trying to escape her orgasm, but she can't. It crashes into her and the whole world shatters.

Peter watches in awe as Yn cums, her face flushes red and sweat dripping down her body. Liquid squirts out onto Peter's abs, turning him on even more. He reaches up and runs the nipple Steve isn't. Her thigh quiver and her pussy flutters around him, drawing him closer to his orgasm.

"Where do you want me to cum?" He asks Steve, knowing yn is far too out of it to answer.

"On her stomach," Steve responds, pushing yns hair out of her face as she comes down from her orgasm.

Peter pulls his cock away from her dripping folds, causing a string of cum to string off. Her jerks off to the look of her fucked out face before letting it load out of her smooth stomach.

"Good boy," steve chuckles.

But Peter barely hears him, he's focused on check on yn.

Yn brain starts to clear as she comes up from her orgasm. Her eyes flutter open and she sees Peter and Steve looking down at her.

"Hey, pretty girl!" Peter smiles gently, "you did so good!"

"So good!" Steve repeats.

"Really?" Yn asks weakky.

"Really! You were so so perfect, baby! Daddy is so proud of you!" Steve smiles.

Yn flushes contently.

"Thank you, Daddy,"

"How are you feeling, angel?" Steve asks.

"Sleepy," Y/N mumbles contently.

"Go to sleep, honey," Steve tells her, "We'll get you cleaned up, pretty girl,"

Yn drifts in and out of consciousness while they clean her up.

Peter goes to clean up Y/N's stomach with a tissue, but Steve stops him. 

"Can't let me pretty boy's cum go to waste!" Steve smirks, leaning down and starting to lick the cum off her stomach.

Yn squirms a little in her sleep, but doesnt stop him.

Once they finish cleaning her up, Peter and Steve snuggle up in bed next to Y/N. She's out cold.

"You did so good, honey," Steve tells Peter quietly.

"T-thank you"

"Not so confident now, are you? Now, you can let all that dominance  go to your head, baby boy! Bucky will tear your ass up if you brat off to him again,"

"I know, sir, I wont," Peter nods.

Peter looks down at Y/N as she sleeps peacefully.

"She's a perfect match," peter comments, "I know the others are gonna love her so that won't be an issue. Do you think she'll agree?"

"Hopefully," Steve responds.

"So, who are you gonna introduce her to next?"

"Hmm maybe Wanda,"

Taglist:

@liidiaaag

@flourishandblotts-inc

@aagn360

@smromanoff

[adorethedistance]

About a Month - Jamie Drysdale x Reader (platonic!Trevor x reader)

Based on this post by @mack-samo

Hockey Masterlist

Warnings: Swearing, making out, mild roasts

Words: 1475

Summary: A rest day with Jamie is rudely interrupted by Trevor’s return home, and your relationship is uncovered once and for all.

A/n: So I’m in a tiny tiny block but whatever it’s fine. This definitely isn't my best work but if I kept hacking away at it I would hate it and then never post it so voila.

“And I thought you invited me over to watch a movie,” I say softly against the surface of Jamie’s neck. He moves my head gently to meet my eyes before pressing another kiss to my lips. He mumbles,

“Are you complaining?”

“Not yet,” a cheeky grin spreads across my face despite neither me or Jamie pulling away; both of us nervously and excitedly breathing into each other’s mouths. Jamie reciprocates my smile and surprises me by excitedly grabbing my face in his hands and crashing our lips together once more. Running the tip of my tongue over his bottom lip causes his breathing to flutter dazedly and I bite back a cocky smile. The rookie duck chases after my kiss but I push him back by his chest and he hits the headboard of his unmade bed. He looks at me hazily, in awe of my entire being. Swinging my left leg over both of his, I’m kneeling over him leaning down to reconnect with Jamie. I take his adorable face in my hands and draw him back in for another kiss. Once intertwined again, I lower myself onto his lap and I feel him involuntarily sigh at the new point of contact. His hands are practically twitching with anticipation before coming to rest awkwardly on my waist. His touch is light, too light. I can tell he’s unsure of how much he should do.

The consideration is sweet but I’m aiming for something more.

Without breaking our kiss, I place my hands on his wrists and trail his hands up the length of my body before resting them on my ribcage. When he still doesn’t move, I take a moment to appreciate his extensive respect before guiding his hands over my grey graphic t-shirt, over the lace fabric of the black bralette I’m wearing today. Jamie lets out an involuntary whimper of excitement which makes me laugh into the kiss.

“You’re so adorable.” He flushes in embarrassment and buries his face in the exposed skin of my neck. “No, come back!” Jamie peeks up at my face long enough for me to tangle my fingers in his lengthy black hair. We resume our kiss, less frenzied this time; there’s a piece of innocence that wasn’t there before. We unintentionally sigh simultaneously and I look into his eyes, playing with the ends of his messy hair.

“Jamie?”

“Hm?” He answers without breaking eye contact.

“Can we get Chinese for dinner?”

“...Sure?” he laughs, seemingly confused.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Whaaaat?” I pester and pout, placing a soft kiss on his lips which he reciprocates.

“You’re cute.” Jamie presses another kiss on my lips, wrapping his arms around my waist. We’ve been switching between cuddling and making out for most of the day, just trying to rest as much as possible. Rest days are rare for us between hockey season being in full swing and the holiday season. But when our days off sync up, it’s inconceivable bliss.

The only issue is getting rid of Trevor. Easier said than done. Jamie and Trevor do everything together so naturally, they’d spend their off days together too. As a result, Jamie and I had to find a way to get some of the other ducks involved without them finding out either. Figuring out how to sneak around Trevor was a pain in the ass early on but Jamie and I have got a routine down now. Whenever they have time off, Mason unknowingly takes one for the team by hanging out with Trevor the whole day.

And it’s not that I don’t want to meet Trevor, I’m ready for anything! Jamie is the one with reservations. He said he would tell Trevor when he was ready, but I feel like he should be ready by now.

“Jame.”

“What’s up?”

“Are you gonna tell Trevor soon?”

“About us?”

“No, about the nepo baby article- yes about us!” I say sarcastically, waiting for an actual answer.

“Well-” Suddenly, we jump apart, startled by the sounds of the front door opening.

“HONEYY I’M HOOOOOME!” Jamie and I snap up at the sound of the front door opening and look at one another in panic. Both of us stare at each other in fear as we hear Trevor shuffle into the apartment. I quickly swing myself off his lap to plop down on the bed next to him. He gives me a pouty look.

“What do we do?!” I whisper shout.

“I don’t know!”

“HEY JAMIE, HAVE YOU SEEN THE-” Trevor’s familiar voice cuts off. I sit anxiously tuned in for the reason he stopped talking. After a long pause we hear him say, “Oh, Jamie, you dog.”

“I left my shoes by the front door,” I confess in a whisper. Jamie looks at me panicked. Trevor’s footsteps come closer.

“You invited someone over without telling me? Oh-” he cuts himself off again, leaning in the doorway upon seeing me and Jamie on the bed. Taking in Jamie’s messy hair and my shirt’s disheveled placement; it’s not hard for him to piece together what had been happening prior to his arrival.

“You’ve got yourself a girl, Jamo?” Trevor says incredulously.

“You’re not supposed to be back until 5.” I stare dazedly and absentmindedly pick a loose strand of my hair off of Jamie’s shirt. It didn’t even take me a moment, the comment is just instinctively fired out.

“How do you know that?”

“Oh my god, Z, get out.”

“No way, dude. I have too many questions. How long have you been keeping her from me?” Jamie hesitates to answer before deciding that what’s done is done.

“About a month.”

“Yeah, see, I have some lost time to make up for,” Trevor says before launching himself through the doorway and flying head-first onto Jamie’s bed where the two of us scramble to move out of the way. He lands directly in the middle with Jamie on the right and me on the left. “Sooo, where’d you guys meet?”

“You remember that one day I needed to go to Target and it was raining really hard?” Jamie butts in to contextualize our meet cute for Trevor.

“Yeah, I don’t know why you insisted on going.”

“Well, we were both leaving around the same time and as I’m about to step out I hear her say something. And at first I thought she was talking to me or something but when I turned around, I realized she didn’t have an umbrella and so I walked her to her car, we exchanged numbers, and the rest is history.” I snort out a laugh at Jamie’s abbreviated version of the story.

“That’s the skeleton of how it went. I asked him if I could hitch a ride under the umbrella and he was so nervous he didn’t speak the whole time. When we got to my car I gave him my number and the rest was history.” Trevor howls with laughter at the visceral image of Jamie being nervous.

“I give you too much credit, Jimbo. As if you could pull her.”

“And you’ve been single for how long?”

“Oh, you’ve got jokes.”

“Only when my boyfriend is being made fun of.” Trevor looks at me and then quickly over to Jamie. I follow his gaze and look at Jamie who’s glowing bright red. I guess I haven’t called him my boyfriend in front of him yet.

“Have you been dating for a whole month or does that include the talking stage?”

“Uh, no, two weeks of talking, two weeks of dating.”

“Is this even legal by the way?”

“What? We’re the same age!” Jamie argues against Trevor’s nonsense.

“Okay, okay, just making sure. I wouldn’t put it past you to go for someone a bit older.”

“Are you sure you’re not just projecting?” I seize the opportunity to poke fun at Trevor once more and he looks at me playfully. I stick my tongue out at him and laugh before leaning my head on Jamie’s shoulder. I feel him relax underneath me and as extra reassurance, I grab his left hand in both of mine.

“Seriously Jame, how did you end up with her?”

“Look. As fun as it is to see you flabbergasted about the idea that Jamie could ever date someone, we’re just trying to watch a movie.”

“Okay, okay, okay. I know when I’m not wanted-” Trevor gasps, cutting himself off, “Are you watching Top Gun? I love this movie- wait can you rewind?” He then squirms his way up the bed, settling between me and Jamie, forcing us to accommodate him and break our connection. Jamie looks at me, trying to apologize silently but I just smile and shrug. I reach an arm up around Trevor to play with the ends of Jamie’s hair once more.

“I forgot how comfortable your bed is!”

***

[fyodior]

NOVEMBER 11TH

PAIRING ➼ fyodor x afab reader

NOTES ➼ a quick little birthday fic for our fav birthday whore :) unedited, i just got back from a long trip but i wanted to celebrate my love

WC ➼ 0.9k

CW ➼ consensual somno, blowjobs, riding, vaginal sex, creampie

Fyodor hated celebrating his birthday. He was a man of simplicity, and one who did not like to be the center of attention. But that didn’t mean you weren’t going to celebrate him.

Your hands rested softly on Fyodor’s hips as you pressed kisses on his pale thighs, making your way upwards. He was a light sleeper but still had yet to wake up from your touches, which you considered a win. Grabbing the waistband, you gently tugged down his boxers to release his cock, staring at it hungrily before grasping the base with your fist. Fyodor finally woke up as you began licking the tip, and you smiled as he let out a soft moan.

“What- what are you doing?” he mumbled, rubbing his still closed eyes with his hand.

His cock had begun to perk up, hardening nicely as you ran your tongue along the underside expertly.

“Happy birthday, my love,” you whispered before taking him back into your mouth.

Using your saliva to lube it well, you began bobbing your head up and down with a slow rhythm, his erection growing with each movement. You continued to jerk him off with your fist as you lowered your mouth to suck on his balls, pulling a loud groan from him as his hips bucked upwards. Now he was awake.

“You know I don’t-” his own words were cut off by a whine as you twisted your wrist while sucking on the head.

“Don’t what?”

He would’ve scoffed at the look of feigned innocence on your face if not for your mouth. Instead, he threw his head back into the pillow and groaned again. You had released your grip on his cock to instead take all of him into your mouth, dramatically gagging as the tip touched the back of your throat. You knew how much he loved you gagging on his cock. You expertly sucked him off and took him as far down in your throat as you could, sacrificing comfort to pleasure him.

The salty taste of precum dripping onto your tongue mixed with the whimpers he couldn’t help but let out signaled that he was coming soon, but it wasn’t quite time for that yet. You pulled your mouth off him with a pop before crawling up his body, pressing your lips against his in a messy but sweet kiss.

“Happy birthday, Fedya,” you repeated, voice sultry and deep. “Wanna celebrate you, make you feel good.”

Before his foggy brain could register exactly what was happening, you had positioned yourself onto his lap, lining up his erection with your pussy before sinking down. You both moaned in unison, Fyodor overwhelmed with the feeling of your tight walls around his needy cock, and you with the intoxicating feeling of being completely filled by your lover.

His hands fell deftly onto your thighs and squeezed as you slowly gyrated your hips in a circle, allowing yourself to get used to his sizable cock. At the same time, you grasped the hem of your t-shirt and pulled it off your body, revealing the lacy, red bra Fyodor had bought for you some time ago. It was his absolute favorite piece of your lingerie, and you only brought it out for special occasions. The way the color accented your skin and how the lace framed your tits just right had him unable to take his eyes away from your chest. He whined at the sight of it, and you took his hands into yours before placing them on your breasts. He gladly accepted this silent invitation and grasped them tightly, massaging them with his palms.

At the same time, you lifted yourself up off his lap before falling back down hard, reminding him that you were also sitting on his cock.

“S-So, so good,” he whined.

You grinned as you fell into a steady rhythm, clenching tightly around his cock as you bounced on his lap. Involuntary moans tumbled out of your mouth as you rode him, unable to keep yourself composed as he stretched you out.

“God, you feel so good, love fucking myself on you so much, baby,” you whispered into his ear.

You felt his cock twitch inside you in response to the sinful words as he gritted his teeth together. You felt his cock twitch inside you in response to the sinful words as he gritted his teeth together. Bracing yourself by grasping his shoulders you increased your speed, the wet slap of your ass against his pelvis filling the room.

“Gonna come for me, birthday boy?” He gulped loudly as his hips involuntarily thrusted into you, following the friction, as he refused to release his grip on your chest. The way his cock leaked and throbbed inside you meant you didn’t need a verbal confirmation.

“Come right inside me, fill me up.”

You clenched with all your muscle strength as you fucked down on him, and soon he was moaning wildly as he released hot cum inside you, hips bucking wildly. You stayed sat with him still buried inside you as you both caught your breath, sweat dripping down your forehead.

“A heavenly way to wake up,” he panted, smiling.

You leaned in to kiss him deeply, before pecking his forehead.

“Happy birthday, my beautiful Fedya.”

[nucleo-bang-tan]

The Uisa's Daughter | Chapter 111: Her Kidnapping

Pairing/s: Kim Taehyung X Reader, Future!Jeon Jungkook X Reader, Slight!Min Yoongi X Reader

Genre: Medieval Korea AU, Mystery, Strangers to Lovers, Angst, Smut

Rating/s: 18+ Mature Themes

Warning/s (Do not read if you want some suspense): Major characters' death, forceful marriage, blood and lots of it, cliffhanger again sorry, MC is not a pedo don't worry!!!!

Summary: In the 1700s, the Jeon Dynasty spread all across the Korean peninsula.  Happiness quadrupled with the founder Emperor's presence, or so it seemed. Secrets scattered over the palace in the capital city, Hanseong were known to none except a few.

Chapter Summary: You're the black cat, crossing everyone's paths.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Teaser Prologue Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

In the dance of power, innocence is often the first casualty – and in this case, it's your innocence.

You never suspected your father capable of such treachery against his beloved companion. Your tears were the face of shattered hopes of a future and the deep melancholy of a daughter left behind by her own blood.

You tried to make sense of it all. And the more you thought of it, the less it did.

You were on your bed, crying and panicking. The way your hands couldn't stay still and the way your breath wasn't any better made Yoongi more worried than he liked to admit.

"You know..." He spoke impulsively, "I wish I could help. I wish I could kill that bastard."

You sobbed into your pillow, as Yoongi sat on the floor beside your bed. You wanted to say something, but you couldn't bring yourself to. You had politely asked him to leave before your breakdown but he stayed put.

You wondered why, and so did Yoongi.

"Kitten..." He sighed, "Y/n, talk to me."

"Mr. Min, I-"

"Yoongi. Call me Yoongi." He cut you off.

"I don't want you t-to see me like this. Please l-leave me be."

Yoongi wished he would have thought before what he did next before he did it, but he couldn't.

He wished he could just have left and let you sob to your content, but he couldn't.

He got up from the floor and sat on the bed. The slight dip felt was enough to startle you and you sat upright.

Yoongi couldn't help but feel sorry for you. Your cheeks were stained, eyes red from the constant outpour of tears, and your nose irritated from all of this.

"I-I'm sorry." You bowed slightly.

Yoongi was never big on emotions or comforting others, he never believed in it. Always declaring emotions as a waste of time.

"Why are you sorry?" He asked.

"I-I shouldn't be crying but I feel s-so overwhelmed." You sobbed out.

"You're making me worried, and I never get worried."

You looked away for a moment before looking back to him, "I'm sorry, Yoongi. But I wish to be alone right now."

He let out a sour chuckle, "I don't think that's a good idea. My mind doesn't want you to be alone right now. I-" He really wasn't consenting to his words right now. They were involuntary.

He took a deep breath before saying, "Do you... wish for some comfort?"

You looked at him, confused etched on your tear-streaked face, "What do you mean?"

It was an impulse for him, he didn't think twice, heck, he didn't think at all when he hugged you.

You let out a gasp. You had never been close to anyone except Taehyung. You didn't hug him back. You knew what Taehyung told you about men.

But the way his hug felt so comfortable and affectionate had you tearing up even more.

He felt warm and cozy, which was honestly something you needed on a night when your own father pushed you into the blizzard to save himself.

"I know it's not alright and this is the least I can do to help you." His embrace grew tighter.

You felt like you could trust him, so you did.

You closed your eyes and let it all out.

How your father treated you, how the benevolent King Jeon was actually the vilest of them all, how you wished Taehyung could just run away with you to another country.

Yoongi listened to it all. He stayed there even when you asked him to leave. He held you when you didn't even know you needed it.

How he wished he could stop your breath from shaking and your body from trembling. It sure was cold but your body was colder.

He stayed there till you fell asleep, tired from all the stimuli and trying to escape reality. Even when you did fall asleep, he stayed there, thinking.

He stayed there thinking till he finally found a solution.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"Do you have no shame?" Your mother chastised.

You tried to explain, "I couldn't help it. I-"

"Your face is puffy and your eyes are bloodshot. Did you not think twice before crying? King Jeon won't like you like this."

You looked down at your hands in your lap, wondering where Taehyung would be at the moment.

It was already the day of the big wedding, and your maids were getting you ready for it.

They carefully applied a thick layer of makeup which was miles lighter than your actual skin and tied your hair into a bun adorned with beautiful clips.

You had to acknowledge how stunning you looked.

The red hanbok was sent by your soon-to-be husband. You had to give it to him; he chose it wisely. The hanbok was accompanied by a note that said, 'Do not try to resist or I will make you regret it.' You didn't have to read the name signed below to know it was the King who wrote it.

A maid knocked on the door before opening it, "The carriage has arrived, mistress." she said to your mother.

The carriage.

It was a one way ride, you weren't coming back.

"Alright then, Y/n. Let us leave." Your mother suggested and you nodded, your voice being too fragile to speak.

As you came out of your room, you could see tens of guards making sure the whole ordeal goes smoothly. This could also be a reason why Taehyung couldn't contact you.

You carefully looked around examining every path for escape but the guards where somehow everywhere.

Reaching the one person palanquin, you climbed into it. Four of the King's finest and strongest men lifted the carriage, the movement was comfortable to say the least but the situation was anything but.

All you thought about was Taehyung and how you hadn't met him in a week. You knew Taehyung. It wouldn't take a day or two for him to contact you somehow. But he didn't. That made you more than worried for his wellbeing. Did Yoongi tell the King? It was highly unlikely but possible.

As your procession walked towards the palace, Yoongi walked beside your ride keeping an eye on everything and everyone.

"Yoongi..." You called to him, curtains to the side.

It didn't take a second for him to attend to you, "What is it, kitten?"

You gestured him to come closer and he leaned towards your carriage. "Any word from Taehyung?" You whispered.

"He is fine, I promise. You'll meet him soon." He whispered back.

You were relieved but you still asked, "Soon? What do you mean?"

"You'll see." He smiled and closed the curtain leaving you in concern and partial darkness.

It wasn't long before you felt your carriage being placed on the ground. That was your cue to gracefully exit the carriage and you did.

As soon as you stepped out, you were greeted with familiar palace walls. You did love the palace but not the people who inhabited it.

You often remembered the kind and beautiful queen. King Jeon never let you interact with her much but whenever you did, she was pleasant.

The King never treated her warmly as far as you remembered. You could trust him on doing the same to you.

Whispers of admiration towards you and the King could be heard from the crowd of guests and family members.

The whispers were too loud for you, the attire too stuffy, the palace too humid, and suddenly you were panicking.

Your breath ran short as you walked towards where the King sat. You didn't even dare to look up at him or at the people surrounding you.

It was a sudden sense of suffocation that washed over you. You knew it was unreasonable. You were living someone's dream life, marrying the King of the country and enjoying the luxuries of his palace, every woman in the kingdom was jealous of you.

But you could not even pretend to be happy. Not when the groom was not Taehyung. Not when you were currently walking towards your eternal damnation.

You tried to look as calm as possible and you were sure no one knew what went through your mind.

You didn't want to look at your future husband's face, you were sure you'd slap him.

You didn't look at him when he offered you his hand to help you sit down near him. But you took it, a gesture that widened his smirk.

You bowed before sitting down next to him. The hanbok was too thick and the make-up, too compact. So it was a relief for you to be sitting down.

Your father was the one who poured in the rich rice wine into small cups. It was a ritual to be married in such a way.

All you had to do was drink with King Jeon and exchange a few acknowledgements and gifts. That was all you needed to get married to him.

You loved weddings when you were a child. The lavishly decorated and deliciously catered occasion for the uniting of two individuals.

Ofcourse you didn't realise it then, that the two people didn't even see each other before, it was all diplomatic, materialistic and arranged by their families.

You picked up the cup, albeit gently, unlike the eager man beside you who took the cup and downed the wine in a single breath.

All eyes were on the bride. You were supposed to follow suit.

But before you could bring it closer to your mouth, a collective gasp and a few screams were heard, making everyone look in that direction. The people there had dispersed, one of the soldiers dropped dead on the ground.

The man standing above him and the person responsible for this was none other than your lover, looking determined. You knew the look in his eyes, he'd rather die than abandon the goal at hand.

"What is the meaning of this?" The man beside you yelled.

The men and women scattered, every single one was scared for their lives. It didn't take long for the people to exit the palace.

The competent guards of the palace didn't take long to surround Taehyung. But he had brought back-up of his own. His mates looked like old farmers from his neighbourhood who held swords with the confidence of seasoned warriors.

"T-Taehyung." Your voice was faint but he could hear it through all the commotion. Taehyung looked at you and flashed a quick smile before dodging an attack from a palace guard.

His uncomplicated grin spoke more than words, and it was reassuring.

He was here to rescue you.

Amongst all the chaos, you felt a pointed object against your spine, making you freeze up.

But a familiar voice spoke, smirk evident in his comment, "We're kidnapping you, kitten."

The King, who sat beside you was extremely vexed, "Yoongi, kill that man!"

Yoongi replied snarkily, "If I could, I would do it in a heartbeat. But old man, I don't think I want to,"

The aged man was startled. His most trusted and reliable soldier betraying him like this? Looking at the sword pointed at your back, he realised Yoongi was involved with Taehyung.

The King could burst a vein with how angry he was now, "Guards, capture Yoongi!" He proceeded to look at your lover, "And as for Taehyung..."

How did he know his name? You thought. But that was the least of your worries right now. Taehyung and Yoongi were fighting for you. So you did the best you could, you got up and tried to run.

But King Jeon was a king for a reason, and with his agile movements, he got a hold of you by your hair. You let out a whimper at the pain.

Yoongi, who had already defeated all the guards around him, charged forward with his sword to stab through the King's body.

But he was stopped and rivalled by a soldier, possibly of higher order, who wore a helmet. Only his eyes were exposed.

Yoongi only gave a smug look to the man, "Ah, look who finally decided to show up. I'm not the one you need to protect her from..."

As you watched the confrontation unfold, you noticed the way they knew each other, a flicker of familiarity in Yoongi's eyes.

The King handed you to a couple of guards. Struggling against the firm grip of the guards holding you back, your eyes desperately seeked out your lover in the chaotic scene. Their hold tightened as you fight to break free.

Taehyung was still going strong against the never-ending number of guards, despite his comrades being either dead or injured.

"Tsk, tsk, be gentle with your future queen." The King said to the guards manhandling you.

A groan from Yoongi's direction was followed by a thud.

You looked at him, he was held sword-point by the unknown, high ranking soldier, unable to move as the blade pressed against him.

You were in disbelief, you knew Yoongi to be one of the strongest man in the kingdom. The fact that someone like him couldn't last mere minutes in front of that soldier was petrifying.

"Kill that traitor." King Jeon ordered, but the soldier hesitated. It was possibly due to him being familiar with Yoongi.

"No! Please, don't do it!" You begged, trying to loosen the grip of the guards.

The soldier was seemingly torn between what he was supposed to do and what he wanted to do. His exposed eyes held softness while he looked at you.

"You're useless!" The old man yelled and yanked the sword out of the soldier's hands.

The scene that unfolded in front of you made you lose all the fight inside of you. The King laughed maniacally as Yoongi slowly began to lose blood. The guards looked startled, a man like that dying at the hands of the King himself.

The sword had pierced right through his chest, leaving no chance of survival.

The sight of blood never made you nauseous but this time was an exception. You felt dizzy looking at Yoongi and his large wound. Yet, you couldn't see him clearly because of your tear filled eyes.

You cried but Yoongi simply chuckled, "You..." He pointed at the man who pushed the sword into him, his drowsy eyes boring straight into his. You could tell he was in a lot of agony but he didn't show any.

"I have something you don't, you bastard..."

The King scoffed, "And what might that be?"

Yoongi looked at you, who was crying and even though you didn't want to fight anymore, you struggled to get out from the guards' grip.

"Someone to cry for me when I die..."

"I have tens of thousands of people to cry for me, you imbecile."

Yoongi laughed, still looking at you, "Just kill me, already."

And with that, the old man pulled the sword back and plunged it again but this time, hitting Yoongi's heart.

You could see the light disappear from his eyes. His blood that flowed drenched your already red hanbok. The metallic tang of blood filled the air, assaulting your senses and making it hard to breathe. You watched helplessly as the person that gave you comfort all these days when Taehyung couldn't, someone you could call your friend, bled to his demise.

But now, the King was done with Yoongi, he laid his eyes on the mastermind— Taehyung.

"My dearest queen, let's make this easier for both of us, shall we?" His malicious voice echoed through the battlefield that was once a wedding.

King Jeon walked away from Yoongi's lifeless body and cued the soldier to fight the resilient yet tired Taehyung. You had no time for mourn for your friend when you realised where the two of them were headed.

"N-No! Taehyung!!" You screamed, falling down on your knees. The situation would have been so much easier if you knew how to fight, or were stronger.

Your call caught Taehyung's attention. He realised what the old man had done and was planning to do next.

Taehyung wiped the blood on his cheek and cleaned his palm for a better grip on the sword.

The soldier cracked his neck before attacking Taehyung. The clanking of their swords kept you at the edge. You knew Taehyung couldn't win against him but there was still some hope.

Until there wasn't.

Regret is a funny thing.

You trust yourself while doing the actions, you trust the others around you. Barely thinking about the results, the consequences. But time takes it all away and you're left with this disgusting feeling called hate and annoyance of your past self clawing it's way until it finally breaks you.

You always thought of life as a matter of the present. To forget the past and live carefree of the future. No regrets.

Oh, but you were only human.

A human full of regrets.

Would it be better if you had ran away with him?

Should you have had exposed the Emperor the minute you knew what he wanted?

Would you not be stuck here if you knew your father better?

....should you not have asked for some better vegetables that day?

It was all your fault your lover was here,  bleeding out his insides. You saw as the King pushed the sword deeper into the gaping male in front of you.

The sharp tip of the legendary white tiger sword was now covered in blood, some dripping off the edge of it. You would ask how his lowly self dared to wield it but you needed to get your thoughts straight first. You opened your mouth to speak but all that was let out was a whimper.

Taehyung coughed up blood and looked at you with sad eyes. This could have gone better. His eyes spoke a clear message. He regretted it all. Just like you did.

But one thing he didn't regret was loving you. Heck, he couldn't help it no matter how much he tried.

"This is what you get for committing treason against me." The king spoke from behind Taehyung. His voice coming out with a series of pants. He didn't seem to regret a thing.

"T-Tae..." Your voice came out more silent than intended. "Taehyung?" Was the only word you could form.

Blood spilt from his mouth as he tried to smile for a reply. He wanted to run to you. Embrace you while petting your hair, tell you he'll be fine.

He saw as you cried for him, your brain barely registering the existence of tears and focusing more on the sight in front of you.

"What was that? Still speaking of this wreched man's name?" The king scoffed and abruptly pulled his sword out of the bleeding man. You let out a scream of his name and got away from the guard, running towards Taehyung who fell to his knees.

The king smirked evilly above him, "I told you, I'll make you regret it, Y/N."

The soldier's eyes widened. How could the King interrupt his fight like this? How could he stab a man that had his back to him? But more importantly, the soldier saw as you hugged and cried for Taehyung.

"T-Tae, please, hang on..." You cupped his cheeks and placed your forehead against his, a gesture that was so familiar to you, but his blood that now stained your palms was anything but.

The struggle to kidnap you had now ended with Yoongi losing his life and Taehyung lying bloodied on the ground.

"I love you, I love you..." He muttered, wiping your tear but in the process, leaving a blood streak across your cheek.

"You can't l-leave me like this..." You cried.

"Ah, how fun. I didn't know the two of you were lovebirds." The King let out.

You looked at him, expecting something but you knew all you were going to get was disappointment, so you spat, "Fuck off, you are a coward."

"Pretty mouth..." He said before cueing his guards to hold you.

You tried your best to stay with Taehyung, but 3 grown men against you wasn't a fair deal. But they didn't take you far, infact they held you tightly right in front of Taehyung.

Your eyes were on Taehyung's until the old man blocked your line of sight.

"Now, open up. Drink the wine, we are not married yet, remember?" He said.

"Never, I don't wish to marry you. You deserve hell."

He clicked his tongue, "I don't like use my strength on women, but a fiesty one like you..." He forcefully grabbed your cheeks with one hand and poured the wine down your throat with the other.

And that sealed your fate. You were married to the King and were the Queen of the Jeon Empire.

You tried your best to spit it out but the man held your mouth shut.

King Jeon ordered the guards to take you away.

The last thing you saw before leaving the place was a Taehyung whose chest didn't show any signs of breathing.

He died as well.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The guards had locked you in a lavish room. No window was left open, the only ventilation being the very small vents.

You could only assume it was the Queen's chambers or worse, the King's. You looked around, trying to find anything that could possibly help you escape.

But then it hit you, where were you going to escape to? With whom were you going to escape with?

You knew what happened with bodies of traitors or revolters; they were fed to dogs and wolves.

The realisation that you could never hold Taehyung crept up on you.

Maybe you were dreaming, maybe you were sleeping on Taehyung's lap, near the lake and he was caressing your hair.

But it wasn't a dream, you knew it wasn't. You were now married to the 'benevolent' Emperor. And your only light in a tunnel filled with darkness was no more.

You banged at the door, a kind maid could perhaps open it for you, but you knew it was impossible, the King had everyone under his spell, and those who weren't, well...

You bawled, tugged at your hair, as an effort to let out all the pain. Taehyung was dead, and now you had no reason to be alive. You didn't know what to do, now that the only one that made you feel was gone.

But you wished you had never met him, he would have been well off, with someone else, living his best life.

You were the black cat, bringing bad luck to whoever crossed paths with you. Your father's cover was blown because the King wanted you and investigated deeply about him.

Yoongi died because he made friends with you and felt sympathy for you.

And Taehyung died because he loved you. Because you were simply selfish and wanted to love him as well. You should have let him go the moment you knew your father was suspicious.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"Your majesty, the Queen is burning up!" You couldn't see as your vision was blurry but you could faintly figure out what was going on.

A maid who was sent to check up on you found you lying near the door of your chambers. You had fever, and it was anything but mild.

Slipping in and out of wakefulness, you could make out a rather familiar pair of eyes and a few curses. You realised it was the soldier from earlier but you were too out of it to figure out what he actually looked like.

You could feel him pick you up and take you somewhere in a rush, probably the doctor.

You could also hear his drowned out voice when he placed you down.

"Please, do everything you can. I beg you."

You had surely passed out after that because the next thing you knew, you were still weak but felt much better.

You slowly opened your eyes, realising you were in your new chambers. Your red hanbok which was covered in blood, was long discarded.

"Oh, my Queen. You're awake!" A rejoiced voice said.

Squinting, your eyes found themselves on a a well built man. Your body was extremely feeble, you couldn't even get up.

He smiled, "You were asleep for 3 days. I'll tell the maids to provide you with some liquids."

"W-Who are you?" You asked.

"I'm Kim Namjoon, the palace doctor."

You had heard about him from your father. He was the second best doctor in Hanseong, after your father ofcourse. Kim Namjoon was younger than you when he was scouted as a doctor, making him one of the youngest.

"You had a lot of dreams- nightmares, if you will. Was it about your attempted kidnapping on your wedding day?"

Your eyes filled up, you didn't want yourself to remember those events. The images of Yoongi and Taehyung made a noticeable taste of bile crawl up your throat.

"I'm sorry, your majesty. I'll leave you alone. Please call me if you need anything." He bowed and left your chamber.

You put all your strength to sit up on the bed. You closed your eyes and swallowed the hard truth.

Was this it? Was this really it?

You felt your throat was dry due to days of being without water. You felt your eyes scan over something, or was it someone?

You looked again just to find a pair of big doe eyes staring at you from the slightly ajar door.

You blinked a few times and the pair of eyes mirrored you.

"Hey, I can see you." They were those of a small child judging from the height. "You can come inside." The child hesitated but decided to push the door fully open and enter.

Your breath hitched, why did he look so familiar. You could immediately place it, he looked similar to the kid from your recurring dream. But for some reason he didn't look older than 7 years or so.

"Come here, dear." You said. He carefully walked towards your bed and bowed. He didn't look like a maid's child, infact he looked like he was royalty.

"I'm Y/n, what's your name?" You smiled, extending your hand to him.

He placed his smaller one into yours, "I'm Jeon Jungkook."

[meetinginsamarra]

mayprompts2024, #31 pride

Chapters 1 to 8 here on AO3

If you like the tattoo AU give it some love on my AO3, please. It would mean a lot to me. TYSM!

+++++

Just to give you a heads-up, this AU is not finished with today's prompt.

But it will be tomorrow!

I wrote a longer ending and I don't want to cram all of it in here today. Therefore, there will be a "mayprompt 32 determined". 😊

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White Pony Tattoo - Part Eleven (pride)

Have I ever wondered about the shop’s name?

John took his time to think about it. Answering Sherlock’s agitated question correctly was of utmost importance. Not trying to guess what Sherlock might like to hear. Sherlock would probably detect any lie in a matter of seconds anyway.

John did not want to jeopardize the trust Sherlock had shown to him so far by opening up about his troubled past. Therefore, he decided to be completely honest.

“Actually, no. I just thought it was a very catchy name and the design of the running pony was beautiful.” John admitted. “Sorry, if that’s disappointing but it’s the plain truth.”

Sherlock laughed but it was a pained and unhappy sound.

“The White Pony is street slang for cocaine, John.” Seeing the involuntary widening of John’s pupils, Sherlock carried on, his voice dripping with self-contempt.

“Yes, I’ve been a junkie. A full-blown cocaine addict at the age of 22 and when I overdosed the third time I died in the ambulance on my way to the hospital.”

Sherlock’s agitation manifested itself in restless pacing around the tattoo parlour while he talked in rapid-fire mode.

“The reason for my phoenix is not as glorious as the one for yours. It’s neither heroic nor is it noble. It’s just pathetic. The tattoo covers all of the damage the needles inflicted onto my veins but the scars are still below the ink for everyone to see if I let them. Which I don’t. My phoenix is reminding me on a daily basis that I’ve been weak and stupid.”

Sherlock stopped in front of the computer, pulling visciously at his curls and staring wildly at John.

John was baffled by the amount of self-loathing Sherlock felt. If all of the caustic derision and acidic hate in Sherlock’s rant had been directed at John, he would have dissolved into a puddle right on the spot.

Carefully, John got out of the recliner chair and walked up to Sherlock.

“How long have you been sober?” He asked calmly.

“Eleven years since my rehab following the reanimation.” Sherlock snorted. “That doesn’t change anything.”

“Sherlock, believe me, I’ve had my fair share of dealing with addiction. Not myself, but my sister has been an alcoholic since her teens.” John spoke slowly and firmly, making sure that every word found its way into Sherlock’s brain.

“She had multiple tries to get sober and been to rehab. But sadly, she never managed to stay that way. The addiction always claimed her back, sometimes it took two years, sometimes it was just two months.”

Sherlock calmed a bit. Curiously he watched John, listening intensely.

“Yes, you are an ex-junkie.” John nodded. “But the emphasis is on the ex and not on the junkie.” John stepped up very close to Sherlock and fixated him with a stern stare to really drive his point home.

It didn’t work.

Sherlock’s face became hard and in a flurry of motion he pulled the black t-shirt over his head and flung it away onto the ground.

On part of Sherlock’s chest and over his right shoulder, John saw a masterfully tattooed realistic head and neck of a pony.

“But that’s exactly it, John! The cocaine will never leave me!” Sherlock exclaimed and slowly turned so that John could see his back. It was covered with the body of a running pony.

“The White Pony is always running behind my back, following me everywhere. It looks over my shoulder, watching and waiting that I’ll cave someday and invite it back into my life.” Sherlock spat furiously.

The total lack of understanding sparked John’s ire. “You totally misunderstood what I’d meant to say. How can you be so fucking thick?”

John’s voice raised in volume. “My sister, Sherlock, she never made it. Nine months after I’ve returned to London, she died of alcohol poisoning and acute liver failure.”

John fought back the stinging sensation in his eyes.

“So don’t you dare,” John poked his index finger right into Sherlock’s chest who immediately flinched over the silent rage in John’s eyes, “to think that you’re weak. Eleven years of sobriety is a fucking long time, Sherlock.”

Another poke.

“You had to be strong to resist the siren call of substance abuse every time when life got difficult again and obstacles have turned up.” John poked the chest once again, forcefully and this time it was intended to hurt.

“You have been strong and you have achieved perfection in what you do!” A vicious double poke followed.

“You should be fucking proud of yourself, God dammit Jesus Christ holy shit!”

++++++

tagging some people @totallysilvergirl @peageetibbs  @lisbeth-kk @raina-at @calaisreno

[letsquestjess]

Hello it's me again! I have another request for Tech if it's not a bother.

Ok, so it's based on my habit of reaching out to my best friends hand for like comfort or just because I feel calm with them. So WHAT HAPPENS WHEN (in some senerio you can pick) WE REACH OUT FOR TECH'S HAND. Just imagine we're out here holding his hand, not even realizing it, and Tech is just confused or a bit panicked/flustered because it was out of nowhere.

Just a little idea I've come up with, so no pressure to actually write it.

I hope you have a good day see you later!

Hello again!!! This idea is so sweet. Thank you for sending it in! 😊💜

Your Hand in Mine (Tech x GN!Reader)

Summary: Tech misses Echo, and all you want to do is offer him some support.

Word count: 1.2K

Warnings: None.

-- -- -- -- --

With a grunt and sweat dappling your brow, you exerted all your strength to turn the wrench one last time until the final bolt resisted beyond your might. “That should do it,” you said, your grip tightening on the rails as you descended the wobbly steps braced against the side of The Marauder. “Try it again.” 

A few rhythmic taps on the datapad set the capacitor unit into motion. The inner workings clattered, and a momentary panic washed over you. After a minute, the mechanism settled, the pipes trilling to mock your initial worry. 

“How are the readings looking?” you asked, stepping back a pace to admire your handiwork. It wasn’t too shabby, if you said so yourself. 

On your homeworld, you had only been able to work on practice builds, never experiencing the thrill of fixing up an actual ship until your swift escape with the Batch. Eager to repay the clones who had saved your life, you insisted on helping them maintain their craft. Tech had welcomed the assistance and wasted no time in creating detailed lists and charts, keen to pass on his expertise to a willing listener.

“Everything works as expected,” Tech reported. “You are a quick learner.” 

“It was my second try,” you said with a disappointed shrug. 

“Echo used to say that a second attempt meant a lesson truly learned.” 

At the mention of your missing team member, you spotted the involuntary twitch by Tech’s right eye and the shadow over his expression. You may not have noticed the subtle changes if you hadn’t been by his side almost every waking hour for the past few months. Echo had only ever been mentioned in practical terms, if a communication had come through or if providing vital intel. This time, however, you could tell it was different. Tech missed him. Not as an asset to the squad or for his contributions, but as a brother. As a treasured part of their family. 

He cleared his throat with a short cough and worked his fingers on the screen. “While I cannot vouch for the sentiment’s accuracy, I will include your second attempt in the records.” 

When he lifted his gaze, a reticent look pinched at your features as though something unspoken idled on your lips. Assuming you were still downplaying your work, he stood up from the makeshift table. “Please do not think poorly of your efforts. You are progressing well and your assistance is appreciated. I am confident that you will be capable of making repairs on your own soon.”

You went to assure him you would always welcome his presence, but the comment snagged in your throat. Despite your reluctance to admit it outright, you couldn’t deny that you secretly enjoyed his company. His calm demeanour and sincere words of encouragement helped ease the anxiety of your escape, and you itched to reach out to him. There were moments when you had got close to sweeping your hand over his, when that saddened look burrowed so far into his usually softened expression that you were forced to make the conscious effort not to soothe his apprehension with a supportive touch. You had no way of telling if that was what Tech wanted, and the last thing you wished was to make him uncomfortable and risk damaging the bond you had built. 

“Thanks,” you said, collecting the tools scattered on the lowered steps. “I can put the panel back myself. I know you have other tasks to get done.” Without waiting for a response, you ascended the ladder and secured the metal bulk, the deafening shriek of the drill drowning out all other sounds. 

He blinked up at you and analysed the intense concentration on your face. Not wanting to disrupt your work, he quietly entered the ship to carry on with his daily duties. 

 * * *

Omega’s giggle infused the air in the seconds before she appeared from behind The Marauder, Wrecker in quick pursuit. Just as he reached out to catch her, she evaded his grasp and hoisted herself onto the front turret, perched like a little assassin waiting to strike. 

“You’ll have to be faster than that,” she called down to the brawler. 

“You don’t think I can climb up there?” he challenged. 

“Don’t even think about it,” Hunter yelled from beside the smouldering ashes of the fire. He stacked the cleaned plates and cutlery into the storage boxes and propped them on the steps. “Back inside.” 

“Five more minutes,” Omega pleaded over Wrecker’s huffed groan. 

“No. Come on.”

With a nimble leap from the turret, the girl retrieved the box of dinnerware on her way aboard. Wrecker followed her inside the ship with a whispered promise to continue their game when they next landed. He was, after all, still winning, and he wasn’t about to lose because of his brother’s overprotective nature. 

Hunter swung to you and Tech, one foot on the ramp. “I want you both ready to go in ten. Okay?”

Attention glued to his datapad, Tech responded with a half-mustered salute, and you reciprocated with a nod of your own. 

Once you had finished clearing the rest of your equipment, you wriggled the slim crates into their designated spots in the storage hold underneath the ship and locked the hatch. Dust clung to your jacket, and you wiped off the dry specks as you made your way towards the intelligence clone. 

“Need any help with the receiver?” you asked, gesturing to the small device plugged into his datapad. The disc hummed as the blue light traced its perimeter, scanning and collecting data. 

“That will not be necessary,” he assured you. “I have a strong enough signal for incoming transmissions.”

You positioned yourself next to him, your hands resting in your lap as you took in the view of the tundra and plateaus. The setting suns painted the horizon with fire and from the growing shadows, nighttime animals stirred. With sunlight fading fast, you wouldn’t be able to remain outside for much longer, but Tech persisted with his personal mission, resolved to make the most of the remaining light. 

“Still waiting to hear from Echo?” you questioned. As he lowered his head, your eyes followed the motion, drifting along the peeling bark of the log where his hand rested. Guided by instinct, you gravitated towards him and brushed against his knuckles. 

Tech stared transfixed at your connected hands, lips parting and a verbal response dithering on his tongue. Before you could retreat, the fluster within him relaxed into an appreciative peace, and he entwined your fingers. 

A warmth flooded your cheeks as you met his eyes. Sincerity swelled in the amber and erased the furrow between his brow. 

He held onto you like a lifeline, like an anchor keeping him grounded when worry clouded his thoughts and the fear that he may have to face a tomorrow with one less brother haunted him. “Thank you,” he said, barely a whisper amongst the rising coos and whistles of the wildlife. 

“What for?” you asked.

He cradled your palm to his chest, and a reverence came over him, a surety that wrapped him up safe, and warm, and secure. “Everything,” he whispered, thumb rubbing the back of your hand. “Thank you for everything.” 

[danpuff-ao3]

Snarry-a-Thon 2023

Snarry-a-Thon is an annual fest of Snarry goodness that always brings so much creativity and joy in the Snarry community. I am forever blown away by how much talent and passion Snarry-lovers have. With that in mind, I wanted to create some special recs for a fest near and dear to my heart.

With that, here are my Top 5 picks for the 2010 fest! But first...

Disclaimer: my rec lists are created based on my personal experiences and preferences. There are plenty of other stories and authors who are quite good and deserve just as much love. This is not meant to be an objective “best of the best” list, but the subjective opinion of a longtime reader and fangirl.

Loose Ends

by Arrisha (@arrisha-ao3). Rated: E. Words: 9,856. Heavy angst. Dark. Psychological horror. Unhealthy relationships. Trauma. Mystery. Angst and Romance.

I love you, Severus wants to say. But the timing is never right.

The Want of You

by Ephemeral (@fleetingdesires). Rated: E. Words: 7,377. Hogwarts 8th Year. POV Severus Snape. Clubbing. Virginity loss.

On his night off, Severus unexpectedly realises that Harry has grown into quite an attractive man. He's just not going to think too hard about it. No, he's not going to think about him at all. It's fine. He's fine. Everything is fine.

Nocturne

by Necromanticnoir (@necromanticnoir). Rated: E. Words: 54,090. Fairiytale retellings. Creature fic. Dual POV. Horror. Heartache. Mutual pining. Angst and feels. Self-hatred. Dark magic. Dreams and nightmares.

A Gothic Snarry version of ‘Beauty and the Beast’, inspired by the dark and sensual tale from the Czech film version, ‘Panna a Netvor’. I follow some of the plot, but then diverge and do my own thing. Got to make it even weirder, right? An eerie, erotic, brooding, bloody, batty, haunting fairytale. ‘Underneath my skin there’s a human. Buried deep within there’s a human. Despite everything, I’m still human.’ - ‘Human’ by Daughter

Line by Line

by SerenaEW (@serenaew). Rated: T. Words: 7,836. Romance. Poetry. Librarian Harry. Artist Harry. Calligraphy. Light angst.

After an involuntary exile from the Wizarding World, Harry is now Assistant Librarian at Hogwarts and part-time artist. Who is the poet of the Hogwarts-inspired verses he is creating art for?

Luck of the Draw

by Writcraft (@writcraft). Rated: E. Words: 11,857. Romance. Getting together. Minor injuries. Auror Harry Potter. Humor.

Severus is enjoying the quiet life when his participation in a Ministry raffle forces him to go on a date with Harry Potter. During a weekend filled with drag queens, hiking, a twisted ankle and a dog named Paddington, Severus begins to wonder if the quiet life is really all it’s cracked up to be.

Bonus: Shameless Self Rec

Devotion

by danpuff. Rated: E. Words: 25,843. Enemies to lovers. Cheating. Unhealthy relationships. Self-hatred. Mental health issues. POV Severus Snape. Open/ambiguous ending.

Is there anything more undignified than needing someone so much? Sequel to Contempt

Snarry-a-Thon 2023 Masterlist

[blackjackkent]

The usual three prompts :)

Karlach - Sunflower

Jaheira - Sweet Pea

Isobel - Dandelion

(Flower prompts meme)

Finally responding to this! I ended up picking both the Karlach and Jaheira ones and combining them into one fic, and also making them both about friendship stuff even though I think the prompt definitely intended romantic. And then it grew legs and became an AO3 one-shot instead of a drabble fill. More bang for your buck. XD Really hope you like!

Sunflower - drunken rambling about their adoration Sweet Pea - a tender moment

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We Who Have Faced Gods

Pairing: Karlach & Jaheira, Tav & Jaheira, Karlach/Tav Characters: Karlach, Jaheira, OC Male Tav Rating: G Warnings: Drinking Descriptors: Fluff, humor, drunk silliness, cross-generational friendship, mentorship. Chapter Word Count: 3.0k Chapter Setting: On the road to Baldur's Gate, between Act 2 and Act 3.

Summary: A brief interlude of rest for three heroes on the road to Baldur's Gate, in between one battle and the next.

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“I can't fuckin’ believe it,” Karlach slurs happily. 

Hector grins. “So you've said - a few times now.” 

He gently pries the bottle of ale out of her hand and takes a sip from it himself before setting it aside next to the tree they’re sitting against. Another bottle, already empty, is nestled there in the grass, damp with condensation in the crisp evening air.

The camp’s much-needed celebration at finally escaping the Shadow-Cursed Lands has also turned out to be an excuse to clear their supply packs of the unreasonable quantity of alcohol they’ve accumulated. Karlach has been doing her part in the drainage effort. Hector himself hasn’t had too much; he is, however, very much enjoying listening to her increasingly exuberant ramblings as the night has gone on and the bottles have slowly trended towards empty.

He stretches, draping his arms loosely around her waist as she settles more comfortably into his lap. “But go on. Tell me again.”

“I’m serious. I can’t believe it,” she says earnestly. Her whole face scrunches up with concentration as she tries to focus her eyes on him. “Jaheira. In our camp. That's her tent right over there!” She points unsteadily in a vague direction. “D'you know how many stories I heard about her as a kid? SO many, Hec. Like…” A pause. “So many.”

He chuckles. “Yeah?” He kisses the tip of her nose, then her lips. “I’d love to hear them.”

“She’s so cool. She can turn into a panther,” Karlach says dreamily. “I saw her do it at Last Light. An’ she cut up those winged horrors like they were nothing .”

“A very impressive show,” he agrees, nodding. 

She considers for a moment, her eyebrows knitting. “Bet I’d make a good panther.”

“I'm sure you would.” Picking up one of her hands, he interlaces their fingers, kissing each of her knuckles in turn. “You've already got the claws for it.”

“I should get Jaheira t’ teach me,” Karlach decides. Her gaze drifts out of focus again. “And then we could be panthers together and slash everyone up. And then you'd run up and punch them too. POW POW.” She thumps her fist lightly into the pit of his stomach. “Like that.”

He slumps dramatically against the tree trunk, clutching at his abdomen. “You got me. A wicked strike indeed.”

“Hrrrrrmm.” She clicks her tongue dismissively and gives her head an exaggerated shake. “C’mon now, Soldier. You fought that weird Myrkul bone motherfucker,” she points out. “You can take a gut hit from me, I bet.”

“No doubt,” he agrees. His eyes narrow teasingly. “Only you've seemed rather fond of some parts down there, and I'd hate for you to damage them accidentally.”

“Oh, shit, you're right.” She bursts into a fit of giggles and slumps against his shoulder. “Gotta be careful.” She kisses his neck, under his jaw, up to his ear, and nips gently at his earlobe. This elicits a soft, involuntary noise of eager satisfaction from him, and she snickers, pleased at the reaction. “Better?” 

“Much.” He runs the tips of his fingers down the back of her neck and feels her shiver pleasantly in return. “I love seeing you so happy, you know.”

This seems to give her some pause. “Happy. Yeah.” She fidgets her fingertips at his jaw, pushing against the grain of his beard with an air of deep absorption.

There's silence for a moment, filled with the noise of the living forest around them - so different from the desolation of the Shadow-Cursed Lands. Damp leaves rustle against each other in the slow, warm breeze. Somewhere above them, a hawk screeches a hunting call. 

 “We're gonna kill Gortash, right?” Karlach asks abruptly. 

His lips purse tightly and his smile fades. He remembers the mop-headed bastard in the long coat, standing alongside Ketheric and the Bhaalist in that pit of horrors beneath Moonrise. He remembers the rage in Karlach’s face and how it echoed in his own heart. “Yes,” he answers. “We will.”

She presses her face into his neck. “An’ Jaheira's gonna help us. An’ I can kiss a hot monk any time I want, an’ he promised me nothing bad is ever gonna happen, ever again.”

He blinks, then chuckles, the grim mood easing again. “All true things.”

“Then yeah.” Her voice is muffled and increasingly drowsy, but he can hear the smile in it. “I'm happy.”

He digs his fingers gently into the small of her back to pull her tighter against him. “Good. I am too.” 

It isn’t a lie - he is happy, here at this moment, blanketed in her warmth. But uncertainty lurks very close at hand. They have a plan, a goal - a purpose that will save thousands of lives if they can hold to it. But their enemy is horrifying beyond comprehension, and everyone, even to the daughter of Selune herself, has trusted him to be equal to it.

What if he’s not?

He’s jarred from his thoughts by the soft thump of a footstep, and he looks up to see Jaheira rounding one of the nearby tents. The High Harper also has a bottle of wine in one hand, but her steps are steady and her bearing straight. Only her eyes - softened from their usual sharp glint and peering languorously into the middle distance - betray any sign of inebriation. 

She comes to a halt just shy of tripping over Hector's outstretched legs. Her eyes take a moment to refocus, and she tips her head to one side as she takes in the scene.

“Good evening, Carlisle,” she says with exaggerated gravity, inclining her head at him. 

He tries to straighten up respectfully, although the effect is somewhat marred by Karlach’s weight holding him pinned against the tree trunk. “Good evening, High Harper.” 

Karlach stirs in his arms. “Oh, fuck. Is that Jaheira?” she mumbles, still muffled against him. 

He grins, ruffling her hair gently with his fingers. “Seems so,” he answers.

“Shit.” She makes an uncoordinated (and unsuccessful) effort to lift her head. “Don' tell her I'm drunk…”

Jaheira’s eyes narrow with sudden humor and she crouches at Hector's side. With a deft jerk, she lodges the butt end of the bottle she’s carrying into the dirt next to the others. “Do not worry, Karlach,” she says gravely. “Your secret is quite safe.”

“Good,” Karlach mumbles sleepily. “I want her t’ think I'm cool…” She squirms and grinds her face more firmly into Hector's neck. “And teach me about… panthers…”

Jaheira quirks one eyebrow up and her lips twitch. “I believe she vastly overestimates the number of ‘cool’ people I have traveled with,” she says to Hector, her tone deeply dry. 

Hector grins cautiously. He does not quite have Karlach’s level of hero worship, but it still feels mildly unreal to be sitting here talking with one of the heroes of the Bhaalspawn Crisis, a woman he read of in countless historical texts in the monastery’s library. In person, Jaheira has proved to be remarkably down-to-earth, despite all the lofty tales that speak of her, but Hector’s instinct for deference towards her is hard to shake. “Well, we’re all very pleased you’ve chosen to travel with us,” he tells her earnestly. “And honored.”

“Bah, the honor is mine, Saer Carlisle.” She grins crookedly and raises one shoulder in a half-shrug. “It is an exclusive club, we who have faced down a god and survived. It is so rare that we get new members. I should be thanking you for the company.”

He relaxes a little with a laugh. “I never imagined facing anything like this,” he admits.

Jaheira snorts. She slowly lets herself topple out of her crouched position to sit next to him on the dew-damp ground. “In my experience, a world-ending crisis is not something one plans for. It merely happens, and you are swept along in the rising flood, will you or no.” 

Her eyes flick from his face to Karlach, draped in his arms, and her expression softens slightly. “But you have been equal to it, so far. What we faced in the Shadow-Cursed Lands… not many would have come out of it unscathed.”

Hector drifts his fingertips over Karlach’s back, feeling the slow rise and fall of her chest and the pulses of heat from the infernal engine - and the subtle rough texture of one of the new scars she gained at Moonrise. “Unscathed might be putting it a little strongly,” he murmurs.

“True enough. Let us say… alive,” Jaheira says with a flash of gallows humor. “An accomplishment that should never be taken for granted.” A pause. “I am proud of both of you - of all of you. And proud to face whatever lies ahead at your side.”

Karlach’s head has become heavier on his shoulder and her breathing, against his ear, has settled into a steady rhythm, but at these words, she looks up suddenly. Her eyes are at half-mast and her nose rubs against Hector’s throat. 

“Soldier?” she mumbles.

“Yes, love?”

“Jaheira just say she’s proud of us?”

Hector smiles and presses a kiss against her hairline. “She did.”

She gives him a bleary smile. “I think I’m dreaming,” she murmurs. “But it’s a nice dream, so don’t wake me up, m’kay?”

He rubs his fingers gently at the base of her neck. “You have my word.”

She makes an inarticulate, happy sound and buries her face back into his chest. 

Jaheira chuckles. “Perhaps I am not so sorry as I thought that the bards have made so much of me,” she says lightly. “One could get used to such adoration.” She draws a long inhale through her nose, savoring the scent of the forest around them, and then exhales it in a heavy sigh. “You should get some rest, cub,” she adds gently. “We’ve a long walk in the morning, and many more to follow.”

Hector lifts an eyebrow at her. “I could say the same of you.”

She laughs. It's a sharp, almost barking sound - a trifle bitter, but not without humor. “It has been many, many years since I last slept a full night, Carlisle. I think tonight will be no different. But there may yet be hope for you.”

He shrugs - carefully, trying not to jostle Karlach's head. “Perhaps. But…” He smiles sheepishly. “I need to bring this one along with me, and I don’t think she’s much in the mood to move at present.”

“Mm. I will help you move her, then. You have both earned a better bed than the cold forest ground.” Jaheira glances at the two bottles sitting side by side against the tree trunk, and snorts softly. “She has told me something of her story. I suppose a decade in the Hells must lend one a certain tolerance for the weak drinks of the material plane. All the same, I have seen stronger warriors than her felled by the combination of Balor ale and fireswill. I am impressed that she is still conscious.”

He frowns. “It’s a special occasion,” he says with a shrug. “We all needed to let loose a little, I think.”

She grins. “Oh, do not mistake me - I am not judging. Besides, practically the whole camp is passed out. I was surprised to find anyone else awake at all. Well, besides Dame Aylin,” she corrects herself with a low laugh, glancing over her shoulder. “She keeps a vigil in the moonlight and was quite uninterested in the revelry. Perhaps the daughter of a goddess sees little point in the meager wine that mortals brew.”

Involuntarily, Hector looks up, following Jaheira's gaze to see if he can spot the aasimar in prayer. But wherever it is that Aylin is apparently keeping vigil is out of his sight, masked by the tents or the trees or the gentle, moonlit darkness. “I still can't believe it,” he murmurs, slowly starting to squirm out from beneath Karlach's weight. “My Lady's daughter, here in flesh. She laid a hand on my shoulder and said she would follow me.” He pauses and then smiles ruefully. “It's the only thing that could possibly be more astonishing than you saying the same thing.”

Jaheira looks at him curiously for a moment. Then she catches Karlach by the shoulder and helps to lift her up so that Hector can wriggle sideways onto his knees. “For so many years, you have had faith in Selune,” she points out. “And yet you are surprised to receive it in return, in the hour of crisis?” 

Hector grunts and pushes himself to his feet, hooking Karlach's arm over his shoulder. Between them, they lift her onto her feet; she's definitely almost asleep now and mumbles inarticulately at the motion.

“I don't deserve it,” he says quietly, more to himself than to Jaheira. 

Jaheira smiles faintly, bracing herself to help hold up Karlach's considerable weight. “A thing worth knowing, Carlisle, if you are on a path of which songs will be sung,” she answers, “is that you no longer get to choose what you deserve. Least of all the faith that is put in you.”

Hector doesn't answer directly at first. “Come on, love,” he tells Karlach gently. “Let's get back to the tent.”

“Tired…” Karlach mumbles. 

“I know. I’ve got you…” He drapes one hand around her waist to keep her upright, and they take a few awkward steps forward. On Karlach's other side, Jaheira moves easily, adjusting to the rhythm of their movement to help support her. 

They're almost to Karlach's tent before Hector finally speaks again, and it’s so low Jaheira probably has to strain to hear it. “I don’t want to let you down,” he mutters. “Any of you.”

To his surprise, Jaheira laughs softly. “Hector,” she says, “you still have the bone dust of the god of death on your fists. What right would I have to feel you have failed me?”

He crouches at the flap of the tent, lowering Karlach carefully. “Myrkul was one thing,” he says. “But there is so much that lies ahead. We face an elder brain. And those two other Chosen, the Bhaalist and Gortash…”

Karlach squirms suddenly, her eyes opening halfway. The sudden movement overbalances Hector and he falls sideways, hitting the ground next to the bedroll with a grunt, Karlach half on top of him. “I’ll kill ‘im,” she growls unsteadily, struggling to right herself, one hand planted in the middle of Hector’s chest. “Gortash… that fuckin’...”

“Shhhhh…” Jaheira leans forward and presses her palm gently to Karlach’s shoulder. “Not now. Rest. You are no use to anyone if you do not sleep.” 

Karlach blinks blearily, and then lets the pressure of Jaheira’s hand guide her backwards, until she sprawls out onto the bedroll, her head lolling into the pillow. Her gaze drifts out of focus, and then her eyes fall closed. “‘Kay,” she whispers, the burst of energy fading as quickly as it came. “G’night…”

To Hector’s intense surprise, Jaheira doesn’t draw back immediately. Instead, she settles her weight down on her knees next to the bedroll and simply looks at Karlach in silence for a little while. Then she reaches out and brushes a stray bit of hair off the younger woman’s forehead, with a gentleness Hector has never seen from her before.

“Rest, Karlach,” she murmurs. “There will be many battles to fight in the morning… but none of them call you tonight. Rest and breathe nature's clean air. Let it bring you peace while there is peace to be had.”

Hector listens in silence. It is hard to imagine Jaheira singing a lullaby, and yet there is something of that cadence in her words - and something like a prayer, too, gentle and meditative. As she looks at Karlach's half-sleeping form, her thoughts seem for a moment to be far away. Something of the brittle, sardonic mask has slipped, just for a moment, and he can see age and weariness and regret through the cracks. 

The remaining tension in Karlach's body fades and she sags, her head slumping against Jaheira’s fingers. “Where's Hector?” she mumbles, just barely audible. 

Jaheira smiles. “He is here. I do not think he would leave your side if I tried to drag him away.” She turns, rests a hand gently on Hector's arm for a moment, then draws back and out of the tent, looking back at him sitting in the opened flap. 

“I will not tell you, Carlisle, that all will be well,” she says quietly. “Nor do I think you would believe me if I did. But it is well for tonight. And tomorrow… we will meet what comes. I am not mistaken in you, nor is Aylin; of that you may be certain.”

He feels a sudden tight lump in his throat, and for a moment he can't quite speak. “Thank you,” he finally murmurs. 

“And take care of each other,” she adds gruffly, jerking her head to indicate Karlach. “The road is hard, but to travel with someone you love is a gift. Treasure it.”

“I do,” he answers, following her gaze back to the woman he loves. Karlach is certainly asleep now, facedown on the bedroll. Her shoulders rise and fall in a steady rhythm, lacking the tension and twitching energy of her waking hours. “Every moment.”

She nods slowly, and for a moment seems to look through him, back towards some memory long out of her grasp. “Then you are doing all I can ask of you,” she says softly. 

Suddenly the moment breaks. Her head snaps back and her gaze hoods over with wry humor again. “Now, ye gods, lie down and rest yourself as well, boy. We are free of the shadows at last; I can breathe again and I mean to enjoy it. It would be a poor ending to my night to have to knock you out.” She laughs sharply and gives him a gentle nudge with her boot to push him fully back inside the tent. Then, without waiting for a response, she turns and walks away, disappearing like a shadow back towards the warm dark of the forest.

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