#i need to read the second so i can go get the sequel to the 1st one i read

[icallhimjoey]

supreme leader, would you ever write a sequel to ‘ground rules’ where our baby with joe is here and it’s just a cutesy dad!joe moment? (also wouldn’t be opposed to some smutty times as well bc i just can’t go past gotta-be-quiet-cause-the-baby’s-sleeping-but-fuck-i-want-you-right-now-new-parent-smut) heart you, as always!!

we're switching gears, everyone! sorry for the whiplash! Wordcount: 3K

---

Only Have Eyes For You

(read Ground Rules here)

Joe has yet to stop staring at her.

It’s either eyes on her, or eyes on you, and even though you’re gorgeous and make his chest swell beyond what he thought his ribs could ever manage, looking at her is different.

New.

“Will you keep an eye on her?”

“Yea, of course I will. Go get some rest, please, baby.”

It’s been over an hour, and he still needs to raise a thumb up to wipe a tear from an inner corner about every thirty seconds. For several reasons, too.

It’s been five hours since you’ve given birth, and both sets of grandparents – grandparents, that sounds so fucking wild – have left evidence of their visit all over the room. There’s balloons, cards, flowers, bags with gifts in for you and for the newborn baby girl and Joe feels like they brought too much and too little. Were there for too long but left too soon. Should’ve been there right after instead of two hours later, but also maybe should’ve come to meet the baby tomorrow instead of today.

He wants to protect and hide this little girl from the world, but also needs everyone to see how gorgeous she is.

Five-hour old baby, fast asleep in her clear plastic bed that’s been placed right next to your hospital bed where you’re asleep even faster.   

He’s got no idea how much sleep he’s gotten over this weekend. Doesn’t care, either. Just knows that he’s staring at perfection no matter which way he turns, and that the small of his lower back aches because he’s been sitting in his chair weird, but this is the only way he can both touch you and see her little face.

Her perfect little face.

Joe’s got a hand around your ankle as you lie passed out in your hospital bed, finally in what seems to be a deeper sleep rather than just a quick nap, and he wishes you could stay like that for at least the next ten hours. He knows it doesn’t work like that with a newborn, and you’re obviously in a hospital which doesn’t help, but God, you deserve to sleep for a fucking lifetime.

Everything that surrounds you looks and sounds normal, so he guesses your blood pressure must be okay, but he keeps his ears pricked, just to be sure.

The birth was a long one. Almost everything you had tried preparing for hadn’t happened in the way you’d expected, which is what everyone kept telling you was going to happen, but it was still frustrating. It did however feel very fitting with how the two of you had even gotten together.

It was a good thing you managed to pull through most of the labour with humour.

Doctors and nurses had started making jokes of you becoming permanent residents when your dilation had halted at six centimeters for ages, and in return, you had started making jokes that they were going to have to start knocking before coming in, because you knew of a way to induce the labour that Joe would feel more comfortable about if he had some privacy.

“No, no, I do not–” Joe had immediately protested the first time you’d cracked the joke, and the lack of laughter coming from him plus your weird eyebrow wiggle had only made the nurses laugh louder.

“Sorry to inform you,” the doctor said in the middle of giving you another check. “But having sex will not cause labour to begin before your body is ready for delivery.”

“It won’t?” You’d acted all heartbroken. Made Joe mutter, “Jesus Christ!” under his breath, because, you were six centimeters dilated for fuck’s sake. Of course he wasn’t going to have sex with you.

“We’re still not in labour, are we?” the doctor said, insinuating that he thought you had probably tried it at home already.

“Ask him how many times we’ve had sex...” you’d challenged immediately, making Joe groan from the corner of the room where he was sort of pacing around, facing the wall more than the room, because there was another man with fingers deep inside of your vagina, talking to you about sex.

“Can we please focus on—” Joe started, equally as embarrassed as he was humoured by you.

“Once.” You answered your own question and gestured at your stomach. “One time! All it took!”

It had become a running joke between the two of you that Joe didn’t think you were going to involve so many other people in. Joe had gotten you pregnant and then hadn’t touched you since.

Not true. There had been plenty of touching. But you were super pregnant when you’d gotten together and it never felt right for Joe to insert parts of himself into parts of you that felt like they belonged to a whole different person for the time being.

Which actually made a lot of sense to you.

It was just unfortunate that hormones had made you super horny for half the pregnancy.

Hence why it had become a running joke.

One that really annoyed Joe. You were lucky that he loved to hear you laugh and to see you smile so much.

When the two of you were left alone again, Joe scolded you through a smile and pressed kisses to your temple, because you were being funny and entertaining even though you’d just gotten bad news. Again.

Joe lovingly touched your stomach, and pressed his cheek to yours as he looked down at it and said, “You’ve made it too nice in there. She doesn’t want to come out.”

“Remember when we were like, let’s do this as friends...” you joked, but Joe could hardly focus on your light tone of voice when you grabbed hold of his bicep with a strong grip.

“Idiots.” Joe commented, finding your hand and covering it with his.

“I think we would’ve been able to do it, but—”

“You think so?”

“Yea. I was very determined. But, this is nicer.” You smiled and made eye-contact with Joe. He was quick with a tissue, to dab at your wet eyes. He’d learnt to be ready for every and any emotion over the past few days; everything and anything could bring you to tears.

“I wouldn’t have been able to do it.” Joe said, smiling too. “I was already sort of head over heels if I’m honest. You were determined for two, I think.”

That had made you burst into actual sobs.

The last hour of giving birth, you’d cried non-stop. A weird silent steady leaking of water from your eyes as you struggled through the delivery. Joe guessed it was the pain – had to be, because, what the fuck was even going on? How the fuck had nature decided that this was meant to be normal? But then finally, when soft baby cries filled the room, one of the nurses said, “You’re there, you’re done. Relax, we’ll take it from here.” He’d realized then that it they were tears of exhaustion over anything else.

You’d been going for hours, and then your blood pressure did something funny after the placenta got removed, so now they wanted to keep you for a bit, which was scary. But going home with a newborn sounded even scarier, if he was honest... so he wasn’t going to complain about how uncomfortable his chair was.

Or how tired he felt.

He’d been going for hours too, but his tired was different from your tired. He could feel it in his bones, sure, but it was easy to keep his eyes open. Easy to keep staring at her. Easy to do jobs whenever someone asked him to do one.

“Mum’s done. Now, dad, come here. Pay attention.” 

And he has not been able to stop paying attention yet. He’s listening to your breathing, paying close attention to the rhythm because you’re the priority after all that’s happened. Yet he can’t keep his eyes off of his baby.

There’s a baby next to your bed.

The one he watched you gave birth to.

Your baby.

His baby.

He thumbs another tear from the corner of his eye before it leaves a wet trail down his face and uses his sleeve to dry both his eyes as he pushes his nose into his elbow for a second, not letting go of your ankle.

Life is ridiculous.

He still feels emotional over seeing you scream and cry, in pain and all sweaty. You’d performed a miracle, but it was no fun to witness how difficult the whole thing was on you. Had he not already convinced you to be with him, he would have started that quest today and would’ve likely never stopped.

When he blinks his eyes back into focus, it’s to you stirring in the white sheets of your hospital bed.

He freezes.

Maybe if he holds his breath and doesn’t make a single noise, you won’t wake up. He’s not sure how easy it’ll be to fall back asleep if you pull from your unconscious state completely. He wasn’t there when it happened – had gotten hauled off to help wash and dress his baby (the tiniest clothes he’d ever seen still too big on her, he was pouring tears as he tried to put the socks on and hated how you weren’t there to see it) – but he was informed that you lost a lot of blood and needed a lot of stitching.

After going through all of that, you’d needed stitching.

Your baby had been taken to get cleaned up, and you’d told Joe to go with her. To watch her. To stay with her and to not lose her out of his sight.

He’d listened.

Knew better than to tell you no.

But then you were left on your own, and you’d needed stitching.

You can’t move without wincing now, and Joe could probably jog home if he really wanted to. How is that fair?

Joe holds his breath, and watches you stretch your spine in your sleep before you relax again.

But then suddenly, your slow movements turn jumpy as you jolt awake with a gasp. It makes Joe jump almost just as much, and he narrowly avoids your knee to his face.

He watches you wince in pain, clearly uncomfortable, but then you immediately sink back into the mattress when your eyes find the clear plastic baby bed that holds your child, and you release a relieved breath.

“My God,” Joe whispers, already humoured by what just happened. “She’s still here, calm down.”

“Sorry,” you croak, curling a hand around the edge of the hard plastic and Joe watches your knuckles go white.

“You okay?” Joe’s already up on his feet, hand on your face to wipe your hair back.

With your eyes still closed and head slumped to the side, you softly answer, “Hmm. My vagina hurts.”

“Yea, of course.” Joe nods, unable to look at you without all the sympathy in the world displayed on his forehead. “Do you need anything for the pain?”

“I need to pee, but I don’t want to. It’s already burning.”

“I’ll go get someone.”

“Please.”

Joe gets a nurse in, and he helps you get out of the bed before you’re helped over to the toilet. Not before you tell Joe to watch her. Watch the baby.

“I’ll keep an eye,” Joe says, because he’s already found it’s his new favourite thing to do. To stare at her. “Go pee.”

The door to the bathroom is left open, and Joe listens to your conversation as he does as he’s told.

It’s a lot of, “Careful, mum. Careful. Slow movements.” coming from her, and a lot of hissing in between your teeth from you. A lot of, “Is this normal?” questions coming from you, and a lot of “If you feel this, it’s probably for this reason, which is totally normal.” answers from the nurse.

Joe gets the room and the fresh new little person all to himself for a second, and he leans all the way over your bed, feet still on the floor, his head resting in both hands as he slowly blinks at what you’ve created together.

He can’t get over how you’ve made this.

Two people have just gone and accidentally made a whole new person... it’s legitimately insane, Joe thinks.

The peeing takes longer than Joe thought it would take. He doesn’t blame you for taking your time, but he hopes that you figure out how to do it without being in pain or needing any help before you get to go home.

Joe hears a shocked gasp coming from you before you softly ask, “That’s a lot of blood. Is that a lot of blood?” followed by a toilet flushing and a reassuring, “Absolutely totally normal. Don’t worry.”

Baby is still asleep. Soundly and so peacefully, small tiny nose doing a perfect job at breathing, Joe’s already so proud of her it’s stupid.

“Well done, mum! First bathroom visit!” the nurse claps her hands together and laughs when you give a sarcastic yay in faux celebration.

You’re miserable, but Joe can hear your smile through everything and it makes his heart swell even more with pride. For you. For urinating. He’s proud because you peed, what the hell.

He shares his first secret smile with his daughter. “Mummy peed!”

You get helped back into your underwear and joggers, and Joe lets his view distract him enough that he almost doesn’t hear what you ask just before you step back into the room.

“Six weeks before sex, right?”

You’re joking, but Joe hears the serious confusion when the nurse asks, “Oh, have you not been talked through—”

“We have. Don’t listen to her.” Joe interrupts, and when he looks over his shoulder to see you shuffle back over to the bed, he catches the cheeky smile you’re trying to hide.

Before he can say anything else about how he’ll have you wait twelve weeks if you keep bringing it up, he catches your eyes flash in pain, just from your small shuffling steps, and he’s up in an instant. Pushes himself from your bed and turns to place both hands under your arms to make sure you’re safe and supported.

You hold onto him like a lifeline and pause in place for a moment.

God, the labour is done. Can you have a single second without any uncomfortable sharp pulling down there? Jesus.

You don’t see how Joe and the nurse share a look over your shoulder. The nurse is smiling at him, and Joe gives her a tired shake of his head as he rolls his eyes, quietly communicating that the girl he’s chosen to have a baby with is an actual menace.

“Maybe eight weeks?” Joe carefully jokes, hoping it’ll get you to laugh and forget about how sore you’re feeling for a second. Instead you just sigh and go, “Yea, maybe.”

You’re helped back into bed by four hands, shuffle slowly into position and leave enough room for Joe to join you.

You’re sore and tired and in a weird emotional state, and it’s simply much nicer to be all of those things squeezed tightly up against him. Joe knows to curl into you with his whole body and lays an arm over your pillow for you to place your head on. It gives the both of you the perfect view of your baby.

Your baby.

You feel a flash of want for her. To have her in your arms. Against your chest. To hold and hug and keep her close. But she’s asleep and you’re not quite sure what to do when she wakes up. What if she cries and you can’t get her to stop? This is safer.

You can both just watch her.

“I’ll be back in thirty minutes,” the nurse says after checking a file, and you ask, “To help me feed her?”

The nurse smiles, says, “Yea sure, that too.” and leaves.

You make a funny face, confused, and look at Joe like you think she was being rude.

“To check on you.” Joe softly says, and your face drops immediately.

“Oh. Yea. But I feel fine, now.” your focus is barely on yourself. There’s this whole other brand new human to be worried about.

“Hmm. Okay. Think you can sneak a little more sleep before she’s back?”

“Probably not.” you say, but Joe sees how you close your eyes anyway. Feels how you carefully move your hips back a little to feel more of Joe against your body. Feels how you grab onto his arm and firmly press it into your stomach that’s still big and round, but all soft and squishy now.

“Can you try?” Joe whispers, lips touching the shell of your ear.

“Will you watch her?” you’re already sinking away. Joe’s body heat is pulling you under quicker than he’d anticipated.

“Of course I will,” Joe says, but lies, and watches you for a moment instead. You’re his priority. Thinks it’s silly how you wouldn’t accept that if he told you. “I’ll watch her.” he confirms, not lying then, because he’s talking to his daughter as he says it.

Joe watches you until he feels you drop of the deep end. Feels you relax in a way he’s not felt you relax in ages.

After a while Joe repeats, “I’ll watch her.” in a barely-there whisper before he places a barely-there kiss against your cheek as you sleep.

His gaze moves back to the small baby girl in the room, and Joe’s eyes immediately well up again.

It’s stupid how even just the sight of her feels new and unexpected again. Like he’s seeing her for the first time once more.

And he simply finds that, once again, it’s so easy to stare.

Finds he can’t stop staring.

“Yea, I’ll keep an eye,” Joe whispers to himself. Thumbs another tear from his inner corner before it can run down his face and bother you.

“I’ll keep an eye.”

---

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add yourself

[jamboreeartsupplies]

smh im sorry for being gone, tbh things have been a bit stressful irl and also i still haven't been able to customise any of my furbs so i feel bad and i never leave the house so i dont have fun and cool pics to share :(

[no1ryomafan]

I’ve been thinking about this for awhile regarding kikaider stuff but after watching Mazinkaiser I had a realization with older anime IPs when it comes to adaptations even if it’s so obvious.

When we think of anime adaptations we tend to either see “they’re 100% faithful just a few scenes might get cut out for time, or the anime might expand on the manga a tad more” (the more recent stuff) or “they start by faithfully adapting the manga before it goes into a different direction and makes up its own story” (a trend usually seen in the 2000s) but I think older anime IPs strike a interesting middle ground of “they were already different from the manga yet are still adapting elements from it.”

An obvious examples is the getter ovas change details of the manga but new which is considered the “closest” to the manga is still super different-aging up the cast, how Michiru is very different, having musashi and Benkei be one dude, etc-I would say dynapro has a general trend of doing this even if they do try to adapt key moments, but I also thought about how kikaider did this with its first anime. Instead of being 1 to 1 to the manga it changed a lot of things, and it especially feels clear with the second anime they wanted you to have read the manga.

Of course this has its downsides if all the shows expect you to read the manga first as watching anime is easier for most people-though the reverse is true for others-but I do find this a lot cooler how the anime and mangas are different from the start yet share things that it feels encouraging to read and watch both of them rather then the whole of people going “watch this anime adaptation that’s mid until it gets mid then read the rest of the manga”.

[artdcnaldson]

Tie Break || Art Donaldson x Reader ; Patrick Zweig x Reader

this can be read as a sequel to changeover or as a standalone :) enjoy <3

Rating: E (18+)

Word Count: 7.7k

Warnings: SMUT (p in v smut x2, f!recieving oral, handjob, creampie, cum eating), angst with a happy ending, infidelity, toxic relationships, everyone in this is kind of a horrible person, language obviously

Summary: It’s summer in Atlanta, 2011. For the second time in your life, you’re the clear second choice. When the opportunity arises, you find a temporary distraction in Art Donaldson.

A/N: FINALLY here it is! The 2011 Atlanta fic. They’re back, they’re older, they’re even more toxic. Let me know if you’re interested in a part 3!

It was hot, even though the sun had long since dipped beneath the horizon. It was a cloying, oppressive heat that made the stupid, business-casual top you wore stick to your skin. 

The article you were working on was halfway written, something you could knock out in the next hour if you really tried. Your drink was watered down from the heat, weak when it hit your tongue. A frown turned your lips, but you really shouldn’t have been drinking anyway.

"Working late?”

The voice was so familiar that you could’ve recognized it anywhere, any time. Art Donaldson was one of the most recognizable men in the country, but to you, he seemed so different. The boyishness was still there, but it lay beneath a new level of confidence.

You took a sip of your drink, trying to appear nonchalant, like it hadn’t been four years since you last spoke. “I’m on deadline. I’m writing a feature on Anna Mueller heading into the US Open next month.”

Without asking, he sat down across from you at the small bistro table. He was so close you could smell the minty gum he had been chewing. It nearly made you smile. Old habits die hard.

“So you write about tennis?” He asked, meeting your gaze. 

“I write about athletes,” you corrected. “I was going to be here anyway, and since Anna is heading for a Grand Slam, I thought it would be easy enough. Grab a couple of interviews, watch a few matches.”

He nodded, leaning back in the chair, trying his best to be causal in a situation that definitely wasn’t. You sipped again at your drink, peering at him over the edge of the glass. 

“You have a match tomorrow,” you said, as though he needed reminding. “Shouldn’t you be listening to shitty pop punk to get yourself psyched right now?”

A smile spread across his lips, and he looked so much like the guy you knew from college that it made your chest tug uncomfortably. Same hair, the same smile, the same crinkle at the edges of his eyes when he was amused by something. You couldn’t help but smile along with him, like the past four years were nothing. “I don’t do that anymore,” he said with a laugh. “Do you want another drink?”

You looked down at your glass, mostly water and thin ice cubes. “Rum and coke?” You asked, giving him a tiny smile. He nodded and disappeared towards the bar.

It felt strange, sitting there in the quiet, your article the furthest thing from your mind. Four years. It felt like yesterday and an eternity ago that you’d last spoken with him. He was a familiar stranger, nearly unknowable. 

Your cursor blinked a few more times before you shut your laptop and slid it back inside your beat-up work bag. 

“Running off?” He asked, catching you in the act of packing your things. You shook your head and accepted the fresh drink with a smile. “You said you were going to be in Atlanta anyway,” he said as he sat, spreading out, making himself comfortable in the shitty bar seating. “When you were talking about writing about Anna.”

You nodded. “Mhmm, I did,” you replied, chewing the inside of your lip nervously. His gaze was intense, falling just on the other side of casual. You felt tiny under that gaze, like you were guilty of a crime you didn’t know you’d committed. 

“And you’re here for Patrick?” The words were nonchalant, but you could hear the accusation beneath them, the history of the two of them just in one sentence. It turned something in your stomach, the possessiveness in his voice. You could hear it, even four years out.

The new drink was strong, but it was the perfect way to hide the distaste in your expression. The burn of liquor into your chest grounded you back in reality instead of the easy allure of nostalgia. “Yeah,” you said after a beat. “I try my best to go to all of his matches.”

Art narrowed his eyes, just slightly. There was still an element of exaggerated friendliness, the casual smile on his lips, the open body language. All of it masking the lingering resentment and hurt that was buried beneath mountains of nostalgia. Deep enough that neither of you had realized it was still there until you found yourselves face to face. There was an unspoken question, one that he didn’t want to ask, one that you didn’t want to answer. 

How long?

You took another drink. 

“Where is Patrick?” He asked, glancing around like he might materialize out of thin air.

“He went out for a smoke, or to walk around and clear his head, or something,” you said with a shrug. “I’m not his keeper. Where’s Tashi?”

His jaw clenched and he looked away— a sore spot. A scab you wanted to pick at until it bled, dig your nails in. Maybe that was your eighteen-year-old self talking. 

“You never used to let her get too far away from you,” you noted, mirth dripping from each syllable. “Bet you came down here looking for her. Your leash must’ve been just a little too loose this time and she slipped it.”

You took a long drink, nails tapping against the glass as you considered your words. Tashi wasn’t the type of woman who let a man hold her back. If you were trying to be more accurate, rather than just piss him off, you might’ve fixed the analogy. Art was the sad little puppy following her around. She tied his leash to a lamp post for a fucking break.

“Do you remember the day Tashi got injured?” He asked, changing the subject suddenly. 

You blinked slowly, appraising him. But his expression gave nothing away. “I do.”

A wry smile spread across his lips, and he met your gaze with a coldness that you didn’t recognize. Mean in the way injured animals like to snap at the nearest hand. “It was Patrick in your room that night, wasn’t it?”

Your brows furrowed, face falling at his words. “What?”

He made a face, something akin to skepticism, but crueler. It made your stomach turn. 

“You were fucking someone in your room,” he said plainly. “And I’ve always had a suspicion that it was Patrick. Was it?”

That didn’t do much to clear up your confusion. “You were there?”

He laughed, mirthless, and nodded. “I was, uh, sitting by the door like an asshole. I came to apologize, to beg for you back, but instead, I spent the night listening to my girlfriend getting fucked on the other side of the door.”

Annoyance flickered in your gaze. He knew of a wound of your own, and he relished in picking at it the way you’d relished in digging your fingers into his. “I wasn’t your girlfriend, Art.”

“Right, you weren’t. But you’re Patrick’s girlfriend now, is that it?”

Heat burned in your cheeks. Your relationship with Patrick was… tempestuous to say the least. Most of the time he was your boyfriend, but others he was just a friend that you could count on for a good fuck, sometimes not even a friend. At the moment, he was the former, but that could always change.

It wasn’t easy, being with someone whose emotions ran on an equally short fuse. You’d sound too much like his parents, or he’d devalue your work, or Patrick would forget to take out the trash in your apartment and you’d snap, or you’d mispronounce a word one too many times and it would drive him crazy. Insignificant things could feel big with him, because of him. For better or worse. 

“At the moment, yes.”

“At the moment.” He echoed, laughing like he was in on some joke you were painfully unaware of.

”That’s amusing to you?” You asked, raising a brow. 

He shrugged, picking at his jeans. “Your choice of words is interesting.” He lets that hang in the air before he meets your gaze again. “Do you think Patrick would’ve even noticed you if it hadn’t been for me?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Does it matter?” You asked. “You realize that we’ve been together going on four years now, right? Broken up, dating, fucking, whatever. You realize that there may be more important things in our life than you?”

“Maybe, but I doubt it. I think you know that whatever you have, it’s built on the fact that you were a warm body when he needed it. Just like you were for me.”

That arrogant expression, like he actually fucking knew anything about you anymore was the last straw. You stood suddenly, grabbing your bag. You weren’t Art Donaldson’s little lapdog anymore— you didn’t have to sit there and take all the shit he doled out. 

“Goodnight, Art. Thanks for the drink.”

It was funny, how your weaknesses were still so exposed. Art’s was Tashi, and it probably always would be. His desire to be seen, to impress, painted upon every lovely feature. And yours, raw and bleeding and obvious— the unbearable, visceral need to be wanted.

You made it to the elevator before you felt his presence behind you. Wordless, but so close it was suffocating. You jabbed the up button over and over in frustration, knowing it wouldn’t speed anything up. 

Art stepped into the elevator with you, so close you could feel the body heat radiating off of him. He always burned hot, like a human furnace. 

It was silent as the lift lurched upwards. You pressed against the back corner, watching the number of the floor increase one by one. 

“Patrick is with Tashi,” Art said without looking at you, just as the elevator opened on the floor of your room. You froze, swallowing hard. “I saw them in the hotel bar, then they left together. What do you think they’re doing right now?”

You shook your head dumbly, pulse thrumming in your throat. “Go fuck yourself, Art,” you said weakly, because what else was there to say? You stepped into the hallway— lit with dim yellow light so you couldn’t see where the wallpaper peeled and the carpet was stained.

“If you need somewhere to wait them out, and you will, I’m in room 13 on the seventh floor.” The elevator doors closed, and you were alone. 

The hallway was winding, and you felt a bad sort of anticipation of what you might find, like a sick feeling in your gut. You stood in front of the room, 306, and froze.

The door to your room was closed, no light shone from beneath the door, but you could hear them. Muffled, but clear enough. A pretty voice and breathy moans. Patrick’s laugh, the thud of something falling off the dresser.

Your room key was in your purse— you could’ve gotten it out and stopped it, but what good would that have done? You’d still spend the night humiliated, facing opposite walls as Patrick, lying in the same sheets he’d just fucked her in. 

You dropped the bag by the door and took a slow, shaky breath to calm yourself down. 

Tashi Duncan. She had lingered on the edges of your relationship with Patrick too. She was Patrick’s first choice, just as she’d been Art’s. You’d never blamed them for that, you knew where you stood, and you chose them anyway. 

It was easy to choose them when you thought that the threat was nonexistent— when distance made you feel safe. You could hear her and him, but it felt like mere static in your brain.

You knew how Art felt, back at Stanford. Sulking outside the door, unable and unwilling to stop what was happening on the other side. 

You were in the elevator before you realized you’d walked away. Shitty soft rock played over the speakers, and a poster on the wall advertised a continental breakfast. Your stomach turned uncomfortably. 

You knocked on the door— room thirteen, an unlucky number. Maybe it didn’t bode well. As you waited for the door to open, your nails tapped a staccato rhythm against your thigh.

Art opened the door like he’d been expecting someone else. Maybe he had half-expected you to interrupt and send Tashi back upstairs, but no. He got you standing at his door with fiery eyes and an expectant expression. 

Second choice, second choice, second choice.

Art kissed you for the first time in four years, and you let him. Not because you wanted to hurt Patrick or Tashi, but because you knew it would hurt you. His tongue pressed between the seam of your lips like he belonged there, licking into your mouth like he wanted to reclaim every part of you that Patrick had touched. You pushed him with a firm hand on his chest and he stumbled backward into the room. Despite everything, he smiled. 

His hotel room was nearly identical to yours and Patrick’s. But you didn’t have time to really take in the details when he had his tongue in your mouth, kissing you hungrily.

That afternoon, you kissed Patrick after he lost his match. You wondered if Art could still taste him on your tongue then, if he wanted to drown out the taste of him. 

It was different than you were used to. Four years with Patrick meant that you’d grown accustomed to certain ways that he did things— the intensity behind each kiss, each touch. His emotions— good, bad, in between— were never masked, never repressed. 

When Patrick kissed you, when he touched you, when he fucked you— both of you were laid completely bare. 

Art was different. When he kissed you it was through a certain level of performance, like he’d learned how from a searing romance film. In college, you’d believed that he kissed you like that because deep down, he did love you. Even at that moment, years out from your relationship with him, it muddled your brain.

Your sensible work heels had long since been kicked off by the door. Art’s fingers undid the button and zip of your jeans deftly, with a confidence that had only doubled since Freshman year. They wound up in a heap against the hotel dresser. 

In his haste to remove your (also sensible, and very business casual) button-down, he popped about half of the buttons off completely. 

“Sorry,” he said. The grin on his lips made you wonder if sorry was really how he felt. “I’ll buy you a new one.”

“Stop talking.” You pulled off your bra and lost it somewhere across the room in your haste. Art was pulling off his clothes— his hoodie and the shirt beneath. His jeans and shoes toed off and left to be dealt with later. 

He kissed you again, guiding you exactly where he needed. Your knees hit the back of the mattress and he eased you down without moving his lips from yours. When your head hit the sheets, you smelled perfume so sweet that it was nearly intoxicating. You turned your head, breathing deeply. Tashi. In this same bed, in this same spot. It made something stir inside you— right in your chest. A hint of wrongness, a hint of hurt. 

Art pulled back, moving his lips along your jaw, down to the junction of your throat. 

“Stop thinking,” he murmured against your skin, kissing down to your tits. “I don’t want you thinking about Patrick. Not when you’re with me.”

The words were mumbled against soft, supple skin. His eyes were intent as they looked up at you, the demand of momentary fidelity in his eyes. You wanted to slap that expression off of his face, or run your thumb along his cheek and hold his face in your hands. 

How was it fair that he asked you that when he’d lingered like a ghost on the edges of whatever it was that you and Patrick had? How was it fair for him to look at you like that?

He took a nipple into his mouth and you gasped as his teeth grazed against the sensitive skin. Soft kisses before he suckled softly. “Okay,” you gasped, lying through your teeth. “I’m only thinking of you.”

His hair was still long, kept the same way he wore it in school. Your fingers tangled in his hair like muscle memory, scratching against his scalp as he kissed along your skin with wet lips, treating your other breast with the same, hungry attention.

“Still so fucking hot,” he mumbled against your skin. “Should’ve— fuck— should’ve kept you. What do you want, huh? Tell me.”

Your mind swam with possibilities, but you didn’t even know where to begin. Your mind was stuck on his previous words. Should’ve kept you. What the fuck was that supposed to mean?  “I don’t know,” you replied, completely honest. “Whatever you want.”

He accepted that easily— it was so similar to how you’d been for him in college. You gasped as he kissed down your sternum, then your stomach. His lips found the waistband of your panties and he grinned, tugging at the lace with his teeth, letting it snap back against your hip. 

He peeled your panties down slowly, letting his hands trail down the expanse of your legs. The possessiveness of the touch sent a thrill up your spine. His lips grazed along your skin, from your ankle, up your calf, then your knee. Your legs spread instinctively, welcoming him right back where he knew he belonged. His pretty lips trailed wet kisses up your thighs, stopping just where you wanted him. 

You expected him to rush. He’d seen Patrick and Tashi leave, which meant they’d finish before you two, more likely than not. There was every reason in the world to make things quick— to fuck you and make you leave. 

Instead, he took his time with you. Soft, teasing kisses peppered on the supple skin of your thighs before he nuzzled into your cunt. The first delve of his tongue was slow and exploratory, tasting the arousal that had pooled at your core. 

”God, you still taste so fucking sweet.”

Another thing you’d nearly forgotten about Art— in all things, he was methodical.

He started with kitten licks at your clit— light brushes with his tongue that made you whimper needily for more. His tongue circled you there, and he relished in the way your fingers tugged on his hair at the sensation. 

Then he wrapped his lips around the sensitive bud, sucking with more pressure until a strangled moan squeezed past your lips. Your thighs tensed on either side of his head, holding him there as he alternated between slow, soothing licks and firm suction.

It was frustrating, how wet you were. Art had brought out the worst in you, turned you into something that left you feeling genuinely embarrassed. And still, you were slick, dripping down to the sheets. A mess of arousal and Art’s spit. 

When he eased a finger into your cunt, it slid in like your body was made to fit whatever he could give you. At that point, you very well could have been. What were you, if not an object orbiting in the atmosphere of his life?

He looked up at you, seeming so fucking intent on making it feel good for you as he crooked his finger. It rubbed against the soft, spongy spot within you and you cried out, eyes rolling back. 

“That’s it, huh?” He cooed as he pressed a second finger inside of you. Your arm was slung over your face. You couldn’t let yourself keep looking at him when he was looking at you the same way he had in college. The same fucking expression that got your head all mixed up in the first place. 

He pressed a soft kiss to your clit and you whimpered. “I know it feels good, baby, just relax.”

His fingers thrust within you with a slow, deep pressure as he continued to make out with your clit. It was always so good with him— you’d nearly forgotten how easy it was for him to bring you to the edge. 

When you came, it wasn’t like what you had grown used to with Patrick— sudden and overwhelming, like it had been ripped from some secret place within you. It was intense, but slow to build, seeming to last forever as Art’s fingers and tongue worked you through it. Your breath was shaky as he pulled back, pretty mouth wet with your arousal.

“Do you want to stop?” He asked, looking up at you expectantly. 

You should’ve stopped— rationally, you knew that it was best to turn back and quit before you fucked up the situation beyond repair. 

But it was Art. He could’ve had anyone else, but he wanted you. Maybe not forever, or even longer than that night. But for then. 

You shook your head softly. “No. Do you think we should stop?”

His fingers moved between your thighs, circling your clit. “We definitely should. You’re with Patrick.”

You sighed, eyes fluttering as he caressed you with featherlight touches. “Don’t fucking talk about him,” you said, but your words came out with no bite. How could they, when he was playing with your body like a favorite toy?

“No?” He asked. He was wearing a smug sort of expression. “You don’t want me to talk about your boyfriend, huh? Too personal?”

You moaned as he applied more pressure at the apex of your thighs, making your cunt clench and ache to be filled. 

“Does Patrick know how much you’ve missed me?” He asked. Your breath caught in your throat, and he just smiled. “I bet he does. I think he knows that if he just drops my name in a conversation, your pussy gets wet.”

You moaned softly at his words, chest heaving with soft pants. You weren’t even sure if it was true, but it felt like it could’ve been then. He leaned down, his words spoken close to your ear.

“I can go slow. Make it last for you.” His lips brushed the shell of your ear, making you shiver. 

You nodded eagerly, turning your head to capture his lips with yours. The kiss was slow, like you had all the time in the world. His tongue against yours, the weight of his body on top of you, the feel of him hard, pressing against your thigh. 

He sat back to strip off his boxers, and you relished in the sight of him laid bare before you. You’d nearly forgotten how pretty he was— big and flushed nearly red with need. It made your heart hammer with nerves; your excitement and shame and need rolled into one messy, electrifying tangle. 

His hair flopped into his eyes as he held himself over you, just like you remembered. You reached up, brushing it out of his eyes with a tender hand. His lips brushed against the inside of your wrist, right where your pulse thrummed in your veins. 

“Tell me you’ve missed me.”

Heat flooded your entire body, as you repeated the words. “I missed you, Art.” You reached between your bodies, wrapping your hand around his cock, and guiding it towards your entrance. He moaned and bucked instinctively into your hand.

”Tell me you want me to fuck you, no one else.” You could hear the implications in his words. Tell me you want me, not Patrick. 

“I want you to fuck me.”

Art pressed himself inside of you, sinking into the welcoming warmth of your cunt. You wrapped your legs around his waist, squeezing him closer, deeper, until his balls pressed firm against you and there was nothing else to give.

He thrust shallowly, rocking against a spot deep within you, one that made your eyes flutter with each brush against it.

“You’re so tight still,” he moaned, lips moving against your throat. “Pussy’s made just for me.”

He touched you like he hadn’t forgotten how you felt or what you needed. Spoke to you like you were one of his possessions.

You lost yourself in it— the sweet, filthy words spoken against your skin, and the rhythm of his body moving against yours. His lips captured yours with a hungry insistence, like he could convey four years' worth of unspoken words with a few brushes of his tongue against yours. 

When he pulled back, lips spit slick and looking so pretty, you thought maybe there was a sort of understanding between the two of you.

His head fell back as he sped up his thrusts, chasing his release. There wasn’t time to stretch it out, to spend as much time as you could with each other’s bodies. 

“Need you to cum,” he said, sliding a hand between your thighs to rub your still-sensitive clit. Your cunt was squeezing him tight, body aching for it, for him, brought to the edge simply because he’d asked for it. “C’mon— you get so tight when you cum, need to feel it again.”

It was like your body was hardwired to give him exactly what he wanted. You came with broken moans of his name and legs squeezing him closer, deeper. Your chest heaved with shaking breaths and punched out whimpers as he kept fucking into you.

He was practically crushing you with his weight, pinning you down, groaning into the junction of your shoulder. 

“Gonna make me cum, baby,” his words vibrated against skin tacky with a thin sheen of sweat.

”Want you to.” Your arms slung around his back, holding him close to you. “I’ve got an IUD, so you can— you can cum.”

His lips met yours as he came, with a pretty moan into your open mouth and slow, messy kisses that made you want to just melt into him and stay that way forever. 

Spent, he rolled over and turned on a lamp at the bedside. The alarm clock announced the time in a dim red glow— five past one.

You lay there, damp between your thighs from the mixture of your releases, unsure of what to do. It was cold beneath the hotel AC. He was peering over at you, wearing an expression you were scared to dissect.

When his hand touched your arm, you nearly flinched. Your breath caught in your throat as he ran his thumb along your skin, so sweetly that you felt that same discomfort tug at your chest. 

“C’mere,” he said, an offer. His arm was splayed over the pillows, giving you the perfect spot to lie down and press yourself against his side. To pretend like you belonged there.

But you didn’t belong there. You belonged four floors down with Patrick. That’s where you had belonged for four years. The reality of what you’d done had set in quickly, and you knew you needed to get out of Art’s room. 

”Art,” you said softly, shaking your head. “I have to go.”

He nodded and sat up against the headboard. You watched him grab his boxers and pull them back on, a strange smile on his face. He must’ve sensed your confusion, even without you saying. 

“It’s funny how things change,” he said. “Here I am, asking you to stay for once.”

You didn’t say anything as you picked up your clothes from around the room, redressing as you recovered each piece from its hiding spot around the room. Your shirt was unsalvageable, so you grabbed Art’s. He had plenty of brand sponsors that would jump to replace it, and Patrick wouldn’t recognize it.

“I loved you, I think,” he said suddenly. “Back in college.”

You froze, arms crossed over your chest as you looked at him. “Art—“

“No, I did. I loved you, I just did it all wrong.”

“Art, just stop,” you said firmly. Embarrassment hit you all at once— the guilt of what you’d done, and the shame over who you’d done it with. Your eyes stung as you looked at him. “Why the fuck would you say that?”

His lips twitched, dipping into a frown, then back into as close to a neutral expression as he could manage. “I just thought you should know. It’s only fair.”

You laughed mirthlessly. “Fair? Jesus Christ, you really haven’t changed, Art.” 

His expression fell completely. It looked like it had back in the hotel bar— icy. “I haven’t changed? What’s that supposed to mean?”

You sighed as you looked at him. “It means that if this were Stanford, that would’ve made me crawl right back into bed, lay by your side, and daydream about what it could mean for us. If one day I might be Mrs. Art Donaldson. It means that you say these sweet things to me every time you can feel me slipping away, but they mean absolutely nothing. We’re not nineteen anymore, Art. I’m not leaving Patrick to be your plaything again.”

His jaw tensed, and he looked down at the bed briefly while he picked at loose threads on the sheets. “You think that’s what I want?”

You frowned. “I think you want what Patrick has.”

He scoffed. “Patrick doesn’t even want what he has,” he said, relishing in the wounded look on your face. “If he did, he wouldn’t be fucking my fiancée right now.”

Fiancée. You felt stupid for not knowing it, but you swallowed down your hurt and met his gaze. “I guess we’re both going to have to be content with being the second choice.” You slipped on your shoes and went for the door. “Good luck with your match tomorrow, Art. I sincerely hope that I never have to see you again.”

The hallway felt colder when you stepped outside of the room and shut the door firmly behind you. A very big part of you wanted to go back, to knock and apologize and grovel like you might have when you were a freshman.

Maybe you hadn’t grown up that much after all. 

The elevator was playing Billy Joel. You leaned against the side of the elevator, relishing in the cold against your sticky skin. When the doors opened on your floor and you stepped out, you blinked in surprise. 

Tashi stood in front of you for the first time since college, looking just as stunning as you remembered, probably more so. Her hair was pulled up, slightly damp at the ends. Her eyes flicked down to your shirt, Art’s shirt, you swallowed as an understanding passed between the two of you— wordless, because what was there to say at that point?

”You left your laptop in the hallway,” she said, skipping formalities. “I took it inside so it wouldn’t get stolen.”

“Okay,” you said, chewing on your lip. She stood there like she expected something more. You felt her surveying you, and froze as she reached forward and rubbed at your bottom lip.

“He could’ve at least cleaned you up a bit,” she said. Her fingers delicately fixed your hair, tucking it back into place. She wiped a smudge of lipstick from the side of your mouth. Once there was nothing left to fix, she looked at you one last time and nodded. “You should be fine now.”

Before you could process that, she stepped into the elevator, and you were left alone in the hallway. When you made it to the room, the door was cracked open, so you let yourself in.

Patrick was on the balcony smoking a cigarette, a towel slung low around his waist. The bed was a fucking wreck, not that he seemed to mind. 

When the door clicked shut, he stubbed out the cigarette he was smoking and joined you back in the room. 

“Are we going to talk about it?” He asked. His jaw tensed as he looked at you, like he was ready if you were going to start a fight.

“I just want to go to bed, Patrick,” you said, annoyed by how wobbly and pathetic you sounded. 

He stepped forward and kissed your forehead. “Okay. We’ll go to bed.”

You kicked off your clothes, but left on Art’s hoodie. Patrick didn’t ask where it came from, or what happened to what you were wearing earlier. You knew he already knew, that he could tell the moment you walked in. He dropped the towel onto a heap on the floor, climbed into the bed, and held out his arms for you.

A stronger person would’ve told him to fuck off, but you weren’t a stronger person. You nestled into his side and felt the hot sting of tears in your eyes. 

He rubbed your back soothingly and kissed your forehead. The sheets smelled like Tashi, he smelled like hotel soap, and you smelled like Art’s cologne. 

“Do you want room service in the morning?” He asked softly.

“Patrick—“

“I’m serious. We can have breakfast in bed, do some tourist-y shit, maybe we’ll go watch a couple of matches, then come back and—“

“Are we supposed to just forget what happened?” You interrupted.

“I thought you didn’t want to talk about it.” He kissed your forehead, tender, sweet. “I’ll tell you everything if that’s what you want.”

You met his gaze. “Do you… do you want to know? About Art?”

He went quiet as he played with the ends of your hair. “Did it make you feel any better?” He finally asked. 

“Yeah,” you said softly. “Then it didn’t.”

He kissed the crown of your head. “No?”

You shook your head, sighing softly as his kisses trailed down, over your nose, to the sides of your mouth. “No. It was a mistake.”

”Tell me about it,” he said, murmuring against your jaw. “Tell me how he touched you.”

You shivered, tilting your head to give him more access. Your nails scratched softly against his scalp as he sucked bruises onto your throat. 

“He was desperate,” you said, heart hammering as you began recounting it to Patrick— your boyfriend. There was no world in which he should’ve wanted to hear about it… and yet. He moaned against your throat, encouraging you, wanting to know more. “Kissed me like he wanted to taste you in my mouth, like he wanted to overpower you.”

Patrick moved his lips to yours, kissing you with a sloppy brush of his tongue against yours. “Like that?”

You shook your head and leaned in, deepening the kiss with slow laps of your tongue into his mouth. He moaned softly, matching your pace in a way that was rare, but made butterflies dance around in your stomach. He pulled you on top of him— hands roaming from the backs of your thighs to squeeze your ass as he deepened the kiss. It was just as slow and sweet as before, but you could sense the need and hunger behind it.

You pulled back, just enough to remove your lips from his. Both of your breaths came in needy pants. You weren’t sure why you were enjoying this, but you were, so you kept going. “He took off my clothes, and laid me down on the bed.”

Patrick moaned, chasing your lips. You sat back and just looked at him— lying there with still-damp curls, his pupils blown with lust. His cock was hard, resting against his stomach, precum beading at the tip.

You pulled off Art’s hoodie and tossed it across the room, relishing in the way Patrick’s eyes raked over every bit of exposed skin like it was the first time he’d seen it. “He ate me out, made me cum on his fingers first, then again while he was inside of me,” Patrick’s breath caught, just for a moment. Desire, or jealousy, or both flickered across his gaze. “He fucked me like he wanted me to fall in love with him again.”

Patrick’s chest was heaving as you moved a hand between your bodies, grasping his cock in your hand, stroking slowly. “Is that how you fucked Tashi? Like you wanted her to pick you instead of her fiancé?” He moaned as your thumb ran over his slit, smearing the precum that had begun to dribble out. 

“No,” He groaned. You nodded encouragingly, squeezing him tighter in your fist. “Fuck. I fucked her like I wanted her to know she made a mistake. Made her cum until she tapped out”

You ran a thumb over his bottom lip, tugging slightly. “With this pretty mouth, huh?” He nodded, wordlessly. “And with this?” You gave a slow stroke of his dick, making him buck up into your fist. Another nod. 

“Show me.”

Patrick’s brows furrowed in disbelief. “Show you?”

You nodded and continued stroking him. “I told you about Art, so I want you to show me how you fucked Tashi.”

You recognized the fucking insanity of what you were asking, but you didn’t care. It was a strange form of closure— closing the circle, or whatever. 

“Fuck, okay. Lay back,” he said, patting your thigh. You slid off his lap and settled atop the sheets, watching him expectantly. 

His fingers hooked in the waistband of your panties, and he slid them down slowly. “Fuck.” Your cheeks flooded with heat as he held the sodden fabric up, wet and sticky with Art’s cum. He groaned and hooked your thighs over his shoulders. “That’s… god, that’s really fucking hot, baby.”

Oh. The mix of embarrassment and desire was something new— burning hot in the pit of your stomach as Patrick licked at your pussy, tasting the evidence of your arousal mingling with Art’s release. He moaned against you, holding you so tightly that his fingers dimpled your thighs. 

His tongue lapped at your entrance, pushing into your cunt as deep as he could manage, then back to licking at your clit. It was messy— a combination of spit and cum and your juices.

“Fuck!” You cried out, tugging his hair as he sealed his lips around your clit. He moaned loudly against you, encouraging you to do it again, the fucking masochist. 

He redoubled his efforts, pulling you closer, moaning against your cunt. It was like he wanted to devour you, to lick up every bit of Art that was left inside of you. You wanted him to try— you wanted him to replace every part of Art that was left in your body and soul.

“Patrick,” you gasped. He murmured an mhmm against your pussy. Eyes closed, right at home between your thighs, lost in the taste of you. “Need you inside.”

He planted one, two sloppy kisses to your clit before he pulled back, his lips shiny with your arousal. He wiped the mess away with the back of his hand, smirking down at you. “You need me, huh?”

You nodded, chest heaving with each panting breath. Patrick sat down at the headboard and patted his thigh. “Prove it.”

You sat up, crawling up the bed until you were straddling his lap. “You made her do all the work?” 

He laughed, running his hands up your thighs to squeeze your ass, tug you closer. “I didn’t make her do anything.” Patrick had a hand wrapped around his cock, and you moaned softly as he guided it between your thighs to notch at your entrance. 

You sank down slowly, forehead pressed against his as you took inch after inch. “Fuck,” you breathed. You leaned forward, brushing your lips against his as you gave a slow roll of your hips. “Fuck. You’re so deep, Pat. Feels so good.”

His head fell back against the headboard as you began to ride him in earnest. “Fuck, just like that,” he groaned, still wearing that fucking smirk, even balls deep inside of you. “That’s it, baby, take what you need.”

And you did. The way he was looking at him was proof enough, he was eating up every fucking second of you fucking yourself on him, using him like a toy. 

Your noises were near-pornographic— Right there, fuck, you’re so big baby, so fucking deep.

The poor soul next door slammed on the wall, begging for you to just shut the fuck up. Patrick silenced you with a hungry kiss— a mess of tongues and spit. His fingers moved on your clit, pulling you towards the edge with desperate need. 

“Close,” you gasped. 

He nodded, moving his fingers faster. “I know you are. I’ve got you.” 

You collapsed on top of him as you came— hips canting weakly as he worked you through it. He thrust up into your tight walls, groaning at the feeling of your cunt spasming around his cock. 

“Fuck, you feel so perfect,” he groaned, burying his face into the junction of your throat. “Gonna cum— fuck—“

You moaned softly at the feeling of him spilling inside of you— the soft pulse of him, the warmth of his cum flooding your cunt. You stayed on his lap, kissing his freckled nose, his eyelids, his mouth. 

When you finally moved off of him, you whimpered at that loss of fullness, and of the slick mess seeping out between your thighs. If you were smart, you would’ve gone and cleaned up, but there was nothing more you wanted than to lay there in Patrick’s arms and fall asleep. 

Whatever. You’d leave housekeeping a very generous tip. He sighed contentedly as you lay there— like you were made to fit against him perfectly.  A warm hand rubbed comforting circles on your back, and you felt so at home, even in an Atlanta hotel. 

“I love you, you know that?” He asked.

You looked up and nodded. “I know. I love you too.”

You found yourself staring up over at Patrick with a stupid, persistent smile on your face. He turned to watch you watching him, wearing a matching grin on his face. It was hard to tell who started laughing first— you or Patrick. At the absurdity of it all, at yourselves. 

“God, we’re so messed up,” you said, with another laugh.

He nodded. “Really messed up, but whatever. Apparently your brain isn’t even fully developed until you’re 25.”

“Great, so we have one more year until we’re normal, rational adults.” He laughed, holding you against his chest. 

He reached over and kissed your forehead. You were so sticky and gross that you really needed a shower, but, again— it was a tomorrow problem.

It fell quiet, and you could feel yourself slipping into comfortable drowsiness when Patrick finally spoke up. “Are we going to be okay?”

You blinked slowly. With your hand resting on his chest, you could feel his heart thudding just beneath your palm.

When you were twenty, you met Patrick’s parents. Crowded into his childhood bed with your head resting against his chest, his heart pounded as he apologized for the intense grilling you’d received that night at dinner. It was the first time you ever felt like his bravado had been shaken, like you were seeing through to the core of him. 

You always knew you would be the one to say you loved him first— it was just the way things went. “I don’t care if they like me,” you had assured him. “I love you.” His heart beat harder, faster. He didn’t say it back until two days later, when he was fucking you in that very same bed— forehead to yours, skin sticky with sweat. “I love you,” breathed into your mouth like air. 

When you were twenty-two, you moved into an apartment in Manhattan and Patrick followed like a housecat— no rent, no job, just company and a mouth to feed. The tour wasn’t going well, and you were working for a shitty, clickbait news site that hardly covered the cost of your place. 

Things were good, mostly. Comfortable, domestic. Patrick tried to be a good boyfriend, you tried to be a good girlfriend. Both of you were trying to figure out what that meant for the other as best as you could. Patrick would bring you flowers from the corner store and take you out for drinks and dancing on weekends. You’d drive out on holidays to visit his family and wind up leaving early to go back to the comforts and peace of your apartment. 

When you could, you’d follow him out to tournaments. If he won, he’d take you out with the prize money. If he lost, you’d take him back to the hotel to cheer him up.

On rough days, one of you would come home to the apartment and pick a fight over laundry, or a dish left in the sink, or even what he’d left on TV, and the other would give it back tenfold. Your neighbors would beat on their walls in annoyance as you yelled at each other, until one of you slammed a door and sulked in another room for a few hours, or you had make-up sex that gave the neighbors another reason to bang on their walls. 

The breakups were infrequent but severe. You’d kick Patrick out, he’d live out of his car, or in a motel, or fuck off to some tennis tournament that you’d previously promised to go to. One of you always broke first, returning to the other with promises of love, and to do better.

You did love each other, really. And things usually got better. It was just easy to live with your feelings dialed up to a ten where Patrick was involved: bigger good moments, worse bad ones. 

Your career had vastly improved. Patrick had moved up in the rankings, only slightly, but it was something. You could afford a bigger apartment in a nicer area, maybe get a dog. And you didn’t just want those things alone, you wanted them with him. 

You pressed a kiss to the center of his chest and nodded. “We’ll be fine,” you assured. It felt like the truth.

He nodded, looking down at you. His freckles were so much more pronounced after tournament after tournament in the blazing sun. “Yeah, probably.”

The next morning, you both got the continental breakfast you’d seen in the elevator while housekeeping dealt with the aftermath of the previous night. You did tourist-y shit— went to a museum, found a nice spot for lunch.

At the end of the day, you sat in the oppressive Atlanta heat with Patrick and watched Art Donaldson win his tennis match. You and Patrick left early, fucked in the backseat of his car, and decided to head home early. 

As you started the drive back, you held his hand over the center console and listened to a shitty mix CD with songs he’d ripped off of LimeWire. You gave him shit when Kelly Clarkson followed Lil Wayne, but you both sang along to every fucking word. 

You were right. You and Patrick would probably be fine.

[back2bluesidex]

Novice - JJK (18+)

Pairing: Pornstar!Jungkook X Fem!Reader

Theme: PWP (porn with tiny plot), SMUT, pornstar au

Wordcount: 3k

Summary: The need of some extra money lands you on a weird job. But you are not complaining, not when you get to fuck Jeon Jungkook.

Warnings: Explicit sex, porn movie shooting, mentions of pros**tution, Jungkook is a smooth flirt, reader is nervous and shy, inexperienced reader, a little bit of flirting, missionary position, unprotected sex. NSFW!!

Minors are not allowed in this blog!!

Read the sequel: We Need Practice

Honestly, you have no idea what you are doing here. 

You have been zoning out for the past ten minutes. 

Keeping your focus trained on what’s waiting for you ahead is a little tough. Especially when it’s 2 degree celsius outside and you are wearing nothing but a thin camisole and flimsy underwear. 

Even though the heater is in full blast, you require to have some clothes on your body to enjoy whatever warmth it has been offering. 

You question your sanity once again. Are you really doing this? You out of all people? You - the goodie two shoes? 

Yeah, the situation has been like that lately. 

You are in need of some extra money because some fucker voiced-phised you and you, being dumber than ever, gave them your company card number and pin. Now you owe 200 million won to your company and you don’t even have 10% of the amount to do anything about it. 

Right at that time, one of your friends knocked on your door asking for a favor. 

“Please, Y/N! You are perfect for the role!” she pleaded. 

“What are you even saying? I don’t even have any experience-” 

“That’s exactly what we want - a novice.” 

And you landed on the deal or role or whatever the fuck it is, in an exchange of 250 million won. By the way, did I mention that they have paid you 50% of the amount already?  

It’s good money and a one-time opportunity. All you need to do is to get fucked on camera, get the pay and avoid showing your face around this place anymore. 

As simple as that.

Or as simple as you thought. 

But now that you are already at the set and ready to feature in a porn movie.. You are rather nervous. 

Even though they assured you and added the “blurred-face” term to your contract, it’s nerve-wracking and for multiple reasons. 

First, you have almost zero experience of sex. And must I mention that you never had an orgasm in your entire life? 

Second, the concept of the film is complicated. There is only one male lead but three female leads (including you). But it’s not poly. The guy plays the role of a male prostitute, who pleasures three different women with three different stages of experience. The first woman is a pro, second one is amateur and third one, you, is a novice. 

The first shoot was almost over when you arrived at the set and the cast went to prepare for the second shoot. Hence, you haven’t gotten to see the guy you would be having sex with. 

And it’s unsettling. 

You only heard his name but couldn’t muster up the courage to search him up. What if you don’t like his face and back off? You will have to repay the 50% of the advance along with a 5% of contract violation fee. And you certainly can’t afford to do that now. 

So you held on, arrived at the studio as per instructions, got your clothes and hair done and now you are waiting for them to call you outside. 

“Ms. Y/N?” A voice calls you from the door and breaks your reverie. “Let’s go” the staff smiles. 

You stand up and follow her outside the green room. 

As you approach the main shooting set all you hear is, well, moans and groans. And those get louder and louder with each passing second. 

“Sit here.” the staff says. “You can observe what they are doing and prepare yourself in the meantime. We’ll brief you on the scenes once they are done.” she places a reassuring hand on your shoulder. 

Too bad, ‘cause you are anything but reassured now. 

“So this is how you like to be fucked? Like the bitch that you are? You slut!” the groan of the man invades each of your senses and you are shocked to say the least. 

Is this how you are going to be treated here? You think to yourself. A shiver runs down your body when the sound of a sharp slap echoes inside the almost calm studio. Then another, then another. But the woman seems to enjoy it all. Her moans and whines keep getting louder. 

You find your throat closing up with fear. Will you be able to enjoy it too? Or will you fuck things up?  

You suddenly feel hot and sticky right between your legs. What the fuck? Are you really getting wet? Just with the sounds? 

Squeezing your eyes shut you try to think of all the things you can do with the extra 50 million won. 

“Great work, guys!” a loud cheer and sound of applause halt your activities. You open your eyes to measure the surroundings. 

First you see the female lead coming out of the set with a cloth wrapped all around herself. She disappears with her assistant within seconds, even before you could see her face. 

Then the man walks out, wearing almost nothing. 

A towel is wrapped loosely around his torso and his bare body is on full view for you to enjoy. 

You gulp. 

The man is chugging down water as if he has been wandering in deserts for years. Your eyes fall on his Adam's apple at first, then on his glistening collarbones, his built chest, his toned abs, small waist and then on his torso. 

Your anticipation makes you gulp again. 

When you finally manage to drag your eyes up, you see him already staring and smirking at you. 

And fuck! You choke on your own spit because you have never seen a more handsome man in your life. 

Initially you thought Jeon Jungkook would be a pervert-looking middle aged ajussi but this guy looks like he is your age. 

Your friends would actually pay to get fucked by a guy this hot. But you are getting it all for free? Must’ve saved your country in past life or something. 

When Jungkook winks at you, you realize you have been staring at him for too long. And now you feel embarrassed. 

Lord! What have you been doing! 

“That’s it. I hope you have understood, Ms. Y/N?” The director peeks at you expectantly. 

“I guess.. So.” You reply with a lot of doubts still playing in your mind. 

“There is nothing to be nervous of,Y/N. We are not gonna send this movie to the Oscars, so you don’t have to think too much about your acting. Just do the bare minimum. Do what you are told. Jungkook will take care of the rest.”  He gives you a kind smile. 

You nod, reminding yourself that you need money and this is the only way. 

“You guys will blur my face right?” you ask him with a low voice. 

“We will. You can sue us if we don’t.” he chuckles. 

You feel your nervousness and fears subsiding a bit… only to reach the peak in seconds. 

“Hyung, are we good to go?” Jungkook appears from one of the green rooms, wearing his casual outfit - a white t-shirt with loose jeans. 

He smiles down at you and you struggle to return his courtesy. 

“Yeah, we are almost done here. Take care of Ms. Y/N, Jeon. She is very nervous.” the director gestures Jungkook to sit beside you. 

Jungkook sits down with a respectable distance between you two and takes a tentative look at you before saying, “hyung, we have some time before the shoot starts right?” 

The director nods a yes. 

“Then.. let me talk to Y/N for a bit.” 

“Yeah sure, go ahead.” 

And they leave you alone with your co-star. 

“Hey.” Jungkook says sweetly once you are alone in the makeshift secluded space. 

“Hi.” you reply with a quiet trembling of a voice.

Jungkook chuckles at that. 

“Cute.” you hear him murmuring under his breath. 

“This is your first time, I guess?” He asks. 

“Yeah and the last time as well.” you reply urgently, avoiding meeting his eyes as much as possible. 

His eyes widen at your response, “why so?” 

“I just need some extra money. So you know.. It’s a one time thing for me.” 

“Oh..” Jungkook breathes out and then says, “then I will make sure it’s something you remember your entire life. I know you don’t have much experience but I won’t push you to do something crazy. I will be gentle, don’t worry. Just leave yourself up to me, relax and enjoy.” with that he rests one of his hands on top of yours and gives you a sickeningly sweet smile. 

Now you don’t know how you are supposed to stay calm when your co-star’s mere presence is this nerve-wrecking. 

“Okay. Cut” the director screams as you and Jungkook complete shooting the non-sexual scenes. 

“You are pretty good, you know?” Jungkook slides beside you as you stand there preparing yourself for the big thing ahead. 

“Ah. thanks. You are very impressive as well. I mean three times in a row is no joke. Aren’t you tired?” you reply, finally staring into his eyes. 

Jungkook’s big doe, beautiful eyes almost defy the fact that he is in this business. Almost because once your eyes move lower on his body, you’ll have to admit that this is certainly his place to shine. 

“I have a record of six times in a day, sweetie.” he smirks at you while winking at the same time. Your stomach flips involuntarily. 

“Jungkook, Y/N, are you ready?” The director screams from his seat. 

Jungkook raises his thumb to affirm him and then he looks back at you. 

“As I said Y/N, don’t be nervous. I will take good care of you, okay?” Jungkook holds your hand again. 

His sincere tone really melts your heart. 

You nod, “okay.”

You don’t know how things will turn around but you are determined to enjoy it. You will not be seeing Jungkook anymore, anyway. So, why not take the advantage? 

“Action!” the director screams. 

When you look at Jungkook again, his doe eyes have turned dark. 

From now on, you don’t have any dialogue. It’s only Jungkook who will do the talking, you will have to say yes or no as a response. 

“So, you want me to fuck your virgin cunt because you are a bad bad girl. Is that right?” Jungkook speaks in a sultry low voice. 

Your head starts spinning. 

“Yes.” you reply. 

He takes a step towards you as you take a step back. 

“Oh. you got a voice I see.” Jungkook steps towards you again. 

You know he is just acting but you can’t help but feel a burning sensation in your stomach. When you take another step back, your thighs come in contact with the bed. 

He pushes on your shoulder gently, making you sit down. 

“Then.. let me take care of you.” Jungkook says while sinking down on his knees. 

He takes one of your feet in his hand and kisses on top of it. When his mouth wraps around your big toe, your breath hitches. 

Were your feet always this sensitive? 

He sucks on your big toe briefly, making it tough for you to breathe normally. 

“Do you like it?” he asks, looking up at you, lips still close to your foot. 

“Yes.” you mutter.

“Good girl.”

Jungkook places a kiss on your ankle next, then on your knee. His other hand kneads on your other thigh gently. 

His mouth reaches to your inner thigh and hovers above your skin for a brief second.  Then he kisses down, pulling out a moan from your throat. 

“Lay down for me.” he requests and you oblige. 

Jungkook’s fingers hook on the waistband of your panty and he slowly pulls that down revealing your glossy slit to not only him but to the entire crew. 

But surprisingly you are not self conscious. Jungkook has somehow made it feel like it’s only about the two of you. And you like it that way. 

“So pretty” he whispers, as if talking to your cunt. 

His actions make you leak even more. You suck in a deep breath when you see him, lowering his face down to your pussy. 

He places a soft kiss on your folds at first and then licks a stripe along it. 

Latching his lips around your clit, he sucks on it. You lose your senses with that. Some incoherent words fly out of your mouth but you know you are not really making sense to anyone, not even yourself. 

He keeps performing his ministrations, licking, sucking and occasionally biting down on your clit. 

This is the very first time someone has their mouth on your cunt and you never thought it would feel this good. 

“Umm.. you taste so good, sweetie.” Jungkook mumbles on your clit. 

His tongue probes into your entrance, lapping up all the juices that you leak. 

You grab the sheets to find something to distract the overpowering pleasure that Jungkook has been providing you with. 

Your knees buckle, caging Jungkook between your legs. 

Soon you feel something akin to a finger pressing down on your clit, then drawing slow circles around it, and then the circles are fast.

Your eyes roll back and your throat produces some sounds you never knew you could make. 

“Fuck! So tight. I have never fucked a pussy tighter than this” Jungkook groans and it vibrates your folds. 

When he pokes into your entrance again, while circling your clit, you find something coiling in your lower abdomen. Something so strong that you can’t contain it anymore. 

And you have it. The very first orgasm of your life. 

Your juices drain Jungkook’s mouth and chin. 

“Fuck, sweetie!” Jungkook stands up, “look what have you done?” he says while climbing on the bed. 

He grabs your camisole and tears it in an instant. 

Even though you are in your post-oragsm glory, it shocks you regardless. You hear mumbles coming outside the set but then the director seems to say something that shuts everyone up. 

As soon as your tits are on display, Jungkook grabs both of those with both of his hands. 

He kneads the muscles while his mouth latches to your neck. 

There is so much happening at the same time that you don’t know what to focus on.

Jungkook’s kisses drop down to your collarbone, bruising your skin and then to your tits. He wraps his pretty lips around your perked nipples, suckling those as if his life depends on it. 

Your moans know no bounds. And you already feel heat building up in your stomach again. 

You leave the sheets and grab Jungkook's hair instead. He groans in pleasure. 

“You are driving me fucking crazy, sweetie!” Jungkook manages to say, “do you think you can take my cock now?” 

“Yes.” you say desperately. 

You are actually very desperate to have him inside you already. 

Jungkook climbs down the bed and starts stripping. You stare at him as if he is the best mountain view in the world. 

Your eyes widen upon seeing his cock and your first thought is if it will fit or not. 

“Don’t worry. I will make it fit.” Jungkook replies as if reading your mind. 

He then comes closer to you and lines his cock on your entrance. Putting his lips on yours he pushes his length in. 

A loud earth-shattering moan comes out of your mouth, which Jungkook swallows immediately. 

He grabs one of your thighs and wraps your leg around his torso, your other leg follows the suit. He takes the chance to accommodate his cock inside your hole comfortably. And once he is sure you have adjusted, he starts moving. 

At first he is slow but then he starts picking up his pace. 

“Does it hurt?” Jungkook mumbles in your mouth, not ceasing to kiss you all while. 

“No. It feels good.” you spill the truth. 

Jungkook groans at your response, emptying you for a second only to thrust his full length inside you harshly.  

You whine.

He pins your wrists above your head and stares at you while fucking you dumb. His eyes are so dark that they demand you to keep staring back at them. 

The skin slapping sound makes your head spin and the coil in your stomach starts getting loose. 

“I-I am cum-” and before you could finish your sentence, you cum. 

It Triggers Jungkook’s own orgasm. He pulls out your cock from your hole, pumps it twice and then spills his cum all over your body. 

And all you could do is to stare at him dumbly with your mouth ajar. 

“That was so unlike you, Jungkook.” you hear the director talking to your co-star. 

Even though you don’t want to eavesdrop, you want to know what was not like him. 

“I know, hyung. For the first time ever in my career I lost control.” he sighs “Y/N was… something else.” 

Your face grows hot with the complement. But you know you are not going to see him again so it’s better not to think too much about it. 

You grab your bag and head towards the exit, stopping to greet everyone on your way out. 

“Hey” you greet him with a small voice. 

Jungkook gives you a big toothy grin in return. 

“Are you leaving already?” he asks, staring at your bag.

“Yes. I- um. Thanks, Jungkook. I really enjoyed it.” You tell him sincerely. 

“My pleasure, Y/N. And honestly, I think I enjoyed you a little too much as well.” he replies scratching the back of his neck. The tips of his ears turn pink. 

You giggle. 

“That’s great. So… yeah. That’s it. I will take my leave now. Bye” waving your hands, you turn your heels to leave. 

“Y/N?” but his voice stops you. 

“Yeah?” 

“Maybe if you don’t mind… Can we exchange numbers?”  

“Umm.. maybe we can do that.” 

Maybe this deal has more than just money to offer. 

Taglist:

@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @chimmisbae @i-have-no-life-charlie

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Just a little something something for you guys...as a treat😈

When Simon's away for a while on deployment, it can get lonely. He's knows by the way your texting, when he gets the chance and can text, that you are missing him like crazy. You tell him how you can hardly wait till he returns, how your body is just aching for him something fierce.

And fuck his aching for yours too.

If he could hop on a plane, he would in an instant just to get back to you. Unfortunately, that's not something available to him at the moment.

But that doesn't mean there's nothing for him to do.

Simon knows his baby needs something to take the edge off, something to tide over that insatiable appetite for him until he can come home and fuck her proper the first chance he can get. You never asked for it, but he knew you wouldn't mind.

Ding

Your phone goes off. It's late, but youre no stranger to staying up well past dark; sometimes that was the only way you'd get a minute to talk to Simon when he was away across the world.

You check your phone. It's a text... a picture...

At first glance at the small icon on the lock screen, the image is kind of dark so you have to click on it to bring it up and when you do you nearly faint.

The caption reads: “Gotta be stealthy so they don't fuckin' catch me, but this one's for you sweetheart."

Simon is clearly propped up in his cot, his legs splayed open, shirt off. All that you can see is his thick torso with it's small speckling of light colored hair across his abs. The belt and zipper of his pants are completely undone and the waistband flung open. In one of his meaty hands he has a hold of his cock, already swollen with a little glistening at the top caught in the low light - most definitely a product from thinking of you.

You have to swallow to keep the spit from dribbling down out of the corner your mouth. Instantly you feel the heat rise in your cheeks, burning through your face as the blood pools there. It feels like you are going to pass out.

He's done it, he's taken your breath away in an instant.

Not even recovered from that glorious image your phone dings again, this time downloading something for a few seconds. Your heart pounds in your chest, your breath caught in your lungs, as you wait to see what he's done now.

Ding

It's downloaded. This time it's a video...about a minute long. Your shaky, excited finger instantly clicks play.

"Mmmm..." his breath groan hits your ears as the vision of him stroking his length plays across the screen. His voice in hushed, clearly trying to be as quiet as he can while still making sure you can hear his words. "Fuck darlin', I wish you were here... rather have that sweet little pussy 'round me than my hand."

You've stopped breathing, literally; you could hear a pin drop in the room. The video of his abdominal muscles contracting and releasing as he continues to stroke his cock is all you can focus on now. Looks like he's in the middle of things.

He groans again, his breathing getting faster. "Fuck, I miss ya luv. It's been hell not having ya near for this fuckin' long. Nearly rippin' a hole in my goddamn pants from being so fuckin hard. I swear... gonna absolutely wreck ya when I get back. Don't even bother wearing any panties cause they're gonna get shredded off ya. Nothin', and I mean fuckin' nothin' is gonna keep me from buryin' all this in ya the fuckin' second we're alone. I wanna make you cum so fuckin bad baby."

The video fades out amongst the sound of another low, gravely moan and your sanity is gone. Dear God you were a lucky one tonight. You have to take several minutes just to relearn how to function properly again so you can text him back.

Before you can do that your phone goes off once more.

Ding

One final message pops up on screen: "Think of me later when you cum, sweetheart..."

Oh, you would, you would. And maybe just to be nice...you'd send him something back too.

Part 2:

[cressidagrey]

Looked to the Sky - Chapter 9

Summary: 

Eira Archeron was neither a Valkyrie, nor a Seer, nor the High Lady of the Night Court. She was, however, Azriel‘s mate with her own mysterious, untrained powers.

Also known as: Azriel tries to court his mate the human way.

Warnings: 

THIS IS THE LIGHTNING IN A BOTTLE SEQUEL! SO READ THAT FIRST IF YOU WANNA READ THIS ONE OTHERWISE THIS MAKES NO SENSE!

Elain Bashing, Low Self Esteem, Eira has no idea how to deal with her sister, Azriel kills two Mountain Lions that try to kill him first, Rhys and Cassian are very amused and without @k-godling this would have never happened.

(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)

He had known it was going to come. In the end, he was surprised that it took Mor that long.

Azriel was in his room at the House of Wind, working on some of the never-ending piles of paperwork when it happened. It started with a soft knock on the door, quiet and hesitant. And then without waiting for a response, the door pushed open, revealing Mor on the other side, her expression solemn.

His eyebrows rose.

“Can we…Can we talk, Az?” She asked, her voice shaky. Azriel's eyes swept over her quickly, taking in her expression- the way her face was so solemn, the worry clear in her eyes.

Azriel was suddenly filled with the strange, almost certain knowledge that he would not enjoy this conversation. "Of course," he said quietly.

Mor stepped into his room and then her eyes caught at the Wall, at “Azriel’s obsessive chart of Eira’s life”, a grin overtaking her features.

He grimaced faintly at the sight of the notes. He knew how it sounded, how it looked. Obsessive was a good word for it, though Azriel would have preferred the word organized in this specific instance.

"Ignore that," he said drily as she approached it.

Mor ignored his words and stepped even closer, her eyes skimming over some of the different notes and observations.

"Did you make a timeline of everything you know about her life?" She sounded somewhere between amused and baffled, and Azriel just let out an annoyed breath.

"It's the most organized way of making sure I have all the facts in order," he protested, rising slowly to his feet.

The timeline had been an impulse more than anything, but it had ended up being a good way of making sure he didn't miss anything important. Anything he needed to know, or should know, to be a good mate to her...and he knew how it looked.

"Did you have to highlight the important facts?" Mor asked, and Azriel scowled.

"Yes. It saves time."

She just rolled her eyes and turned to face him. "You do realize how stalkerish this looks, right?"

"It isn't stalking," he said, folding his arms. It was just...a very detailed timeline of her life, highlighting all the information and knowledge that he needed to make sure he was the best mate he could be.

It wasn't stalking .

Mor just looked at him steadily for a few seconds, her face a mixture of concern and incredulity.

"Right," she said finally. "Because having a timeline of a female's entire life, with every piece of important information marked in different colours, obviously has nothing at all to do with stalking."

Azriel made a low grumble but didn't disagree. He had never denied the...obsessive part of the information he had gathered on her.

"Call it what you will," he grumbled. "I just...like being prepared. I like...making sure I know important information."

Mor's expression softened then, and she stepped towards him, her eyes flickering over his face, studying his expression.

"I get that," she murmured. "But can I ask you something?"

Azriel shrugged, his eyes watching her carefully. This conversation wasn't going the way he'd expected, and that almost made him more nervous.

"Ask away," he said quietly, his voice a little stiff. 

She stopped right in front of him, sighing softly and looking at him steadily. "Are you in love with her?"

The question was blunt and came out of nowhere. It took him completely by surprise, and it took him several seconds to gather his thoughts sufficiently to answer.

He shook his head, trying to gather his thoughts together. "I..." He paused, his mind still reeling from the shock of the question. “She’s my mate,” he finally said. “I didn’t treat her how I should have treated her. None of us have. And I am working on getting to know her, finding out why the cauldron thinks we work well together. I enjoy the time we spent together. I adore her.”

Mor's eyes flickered over his face, studying his expression as he spoke, watching his reaction to her question. A long moment passed as she studied him.

"That's not an answer," she said softly. "You didn't actually answer my question."

“I am falling in love,” Azriel said quietly. “More and more with every evening we spent together, with every conversation we have, with everything I learn about her.”

Mor stared at him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. And then-

"Are you happy?"

The question was quiet, almost whispered.

Azriel smiled faintly, looking at her. "Never been happier," he answered honestly.

Mor let out a breath, and she closed her eyes for a moment, looking like it was a relief to know the answer to her question. "Good," she said quietly, opening her eyes, and he could see the relief in her gaze. "That's...good."

“But that’s not why you are here,” Azriel said quietly.

Her expression darkened then, and she shifted on her feet, her eyes darting away, looking...uncomfortable. Her hesitation was enough to set off alarm bells in his head.

"What?" he asked, his voice tight. " What is this about, Mor?"

”I…I owe you a long overdue apology,” Mor said quietly.

He went still, shock flooding through him as he stared at her. For a few seconds, he was completely stunned. “You...” Azriel mumbled faintly. “You...want to apologize?”

”Yes. I owe Cassian one as well…for using him as my buffer for five whole centuries but I owe you one for…leading you on.”

He stared at her in stunned silence for a long few seconds- just processing the words, the implication of her words, her confession. He had...always known, always suspected, that Mor hadn’t returned his feelings, that she couldn’t return his feelings and was just using him, but hearing her say it- admitting it- stung all the same.

He stared at her in stunned silence for a long few seconds- just processing the words, the implication of her words, her confession. He inhaled deeply, trying to keep his control and his expression neutral.

"Why now?" he whispered, his voice a little strangled. "Why...why are you apologizing now? After all these years?"

"Because I messed up," Mor admitted weakly. "Because I...Rhys had a talk with me. I can't even remember the last time I saw him that angry outside of wartime, Az. And I realised that I...I need to do better ."

Azriel's breath hitched faintly at her words, his eyes closing briefly. He had...suspected that Rhys had talked to her- but he hadn't known that she had been on the receiving end of a truly furious High Lord. Which was a shock in itself, but it was a welcome shock. Mor wasn't his...but she was still one of his friends, and he just wanted her to be happy.

"You are only the first one in line I owe an apology to," Mor said weakly. "I owe one to Cassian too. And to Eira."

"We all owe Eira an apology," Azriel said tightly. "We fucked up. We are trying to fix it, but it will take years for her to even start getting over what we did. We are her family. We should have done better."

Mor's expression darkened, and she exhaled slowly. She looked...ashamed almost, her eyes flickering towards his wall. The wall was covered in notes about Eira and her life.

"We should have," she admitted quietly, a little bit choked. "We should have...done so much better, should have been better...and we're going to have to work very hard to fix it. But don't change the topic, Azriel," she said pointedly. "I should have treated you much better as well."

He exhaled slowly, his entire chest tightening further at her words.

"It's...it's fine, Mor," he murmured quietly, trying to convince himself as much as her. "It's...you...you don't owe me an apology. You never did-"

“Yes, I do,” she interrupted, her voice a little harsh as she cut him off mid-sentence. “Az, I…I have been a terrible friend for 500 years. I made sure to keep you as a backup plan, knowing that you were in love with me, and I never even gave you the slightest bit of respect, or affection, despite everything you have done for me...despite everything you do, every day, for all of us.”

Her voice was becoming a little strangled as she spoke, a hint of a pleading tone entering her words as she continued to speak.

“You’ve been one of the most loyal males I’ve ever met, and you…you deserved more than what I gave you. I led you on for centuries. I…I used you-”

His chest felt tight, almost aching at her words, and it was so hard to just stand there, listening to her as she admitted everything he had known for centuries. But it stung just the same to hear her say it out loud. To hear her say she had been leading him on - using him- for centuries.

He took a slow, deep breath, looking away from her, trying to get his emotions back under some measure of control. "Why?" he asked finally, his voice hoarse. "Why...why did you...do it? Why…why lead me on, if you knew you were never going to return my feelings?"

Mor inhaled shakily, her own voice soft now, sounding like she was struggling with her own emotion.

“Because I’m a coward,” Mor admitted softly, her voice a hoarse whisper. “I’ve always been a coward…and I was scared. I was scared of losing the way my life was, the...the way we were. I was...a coward...and I was selfish. And…I hurt you because of it. I’m sorry, Az.”

Azriel exhaled slowly, the words ripping at him and easing the tightness in his chest at the same time.

His heart was still thudding, a strange mixture of a thousand emotions flickering through him. There was still pain, and a hint of anger, and a little bit of longing- but there was guilt, too. Some of this...some of it was on him.

“I wasn’t exactly perfect either,” he said quietly.

Mor laughed then, a soft, choked, sad laugh.

“You are the most loyal person I have ever met, Az. The most selfless, devoted person I have ever known.” She paused, looking at him steadily. “You are a far better person than you have any right to be. You deserve so much better than what you got- and I am deeply ashamed for all the pain I caused you.” She sighed. "I could never be what you wanted or what you needed...But I think...I think Eira could be that for you. If you give her a chance," she said quietly.

Azriel stared at her in silence for a moment, the thought of Eira filling his mind. He thought of her…of his mate, of the quiet, gentle female- how she smiled, and laughed, how she blushed- and how she loved. How she was so kind and caring, and so very...honest.

And how much he wanted- needed- to spend the rest of his immortal life with her.

"I want to," he admitted quietly, his voice almost a little hoarse. "I...I really do."

Mor smiled faintly, a flash of something flashing across her face. Pride, and sadness, and hope all at once.

“Good,” she said quietly. “Good…because I think you two could be so, so, happy, Az. And you both deserve that happiness. And I am...so, so, sorry it took me this long to see it. So be happy, Az. Be happy."

It was more of a closure than he ever thought he would have.  It was. Mor's apology, her confession…

It was a final nail in the coffin, a confirmation of what he had long suspected. He was finally starting to get over the centuries-long obsession- and closure seemed to be the final piece he had still been lacking.

And so, when he did get to see Eira that evening...when the two of them took a slow walk along the Sidra, her hand curled into the crook of his elbow and she told him about her day in that quiet, gentle way of hers... a part of him relaxed.

A tiny piece of himself relaxed. The tension he hadn’t realised he had been carrying for centuries faded.

He was still working on getting to know her, still getting over what had happened in his past, with Mor. But he felt lighter in an odd way. Freer than he had been for centuries .

This was who he wanted, he thought. Eira wasn’t just his mate, or the female for whom the cauldron had made him, she was perfect .

She was quiet and gentle, and so very soft-spoken. She made him smile, and he loved how soft her hand felt, her small and slender fingers curled into the crook in his elbow, her slim, slender frame moving alongside his so very comfortably.

She knew how to make him laugh without trying. How to set his heart racing, and how to make him feel completely at peace all at the same time.

Everything about her felt like perfection- like she had been crafted just for him. In some ways, she had been. The cauldron had decided that she and he would be perfect together, but he was realising now how much the cauldron had been right.

And that he got this with Eira…it was a fucking privilege. She had every right to turn him down and to find herself a male who didn’t behave utterly idiotically and didn’t see what was right in front of him until it was already too late.

"What are your birthday wishes this year?" he asked Eira as they continued their slow walk, taking in the sights and scents of Velairs. 

He had an idea…but if she wanted something else…

Eira was quiet for a moment, her expression thoughtful as she mused on the question. And when she spoke- her voice was even softer than usual. Filled with an odd sort of hesitance."You don't need to get me anything," she said softly. "Just...just be there."

His heart stuttered faintly at the words, and he turned to look at her, his eyes flickering over her face as he took a moment to process her answer. He had expected her to say something else, to ask for something from him. But her answer...it was so simple, so...so honest it made something in his chest ache.

"I'll be there," he promised her. "But I more thought along the lines of something you could unwrap.

Her cheeks blazed with colour and for one moment he didn't understand what that was about before he did.

Something she could unwrap.

The words hit him with the force of a wrecking ball, his imagination immediately going to something...less than innocent. He had not meant the comment to come out that way- but the words had come out, and judging by the way her cheeks were burning, his mate had got the exact same implication out of his words that he had.

She inhaled sharply, her cheeks burning brighter now as her eyes widened.

“A book or embroiders floss or...or...or something," he finished feebly, struggling to keep his words - and thoughts - in check.

Get a hold of yourself, Azriel scolded himself silently.

It was not proper to have these sorts of...ideas...about his mate. He was supposed to be wooing her- getting to know her - not imagining the things her request had inadvertently made him think of.

But...but he still hadn't been able to push the image out of his head now that it was there. Her, laying on his bed- his bed- and-...

He forced himself to change the subject. To think of something else. Anything else.

And then he was doused in cold water at Eira's next words: "Are you angry at Elain?"

He was startled, her words yanking his mind away from the thoughts that had been running rampant and forcing him back to reality.

"What?" he asked, his voice sounding a little strained as he came back to the present moment

She is worried about you at Elain's wedding, Master, his shadows whispered.

Azriel went still as he slowly replayed the words in his head.

She was...worried about Elain's wedding? Worried about him?

Why? he demanded.

Because she thinks you could see her and want her and not your mate, The shadows hissed back. We told her you could never want The Seer again.

He was rendered quite speechless by the words. She...thought he could…

Azriel was frozen in place, his mind working furiously as he struggled to process the words, to wrap his head around them.

She...She was worried ? About him? Because she was afraid he would still feel something- anything - for Elain? Did Eira honestly think that he could ever want Elain again after what she did?!

It was...insane, but the very idea that she might have been worrying about him - that she had been concerned about his reaction at the wedding - was oddly touching, as well as completely stupid.

Did she honestly think he would have wanted Elain even after finding her? After knowing she was his mate?

Eira was worried. Worried he would look at Elain and want her instead. She was sweet, kind, and gentle...and yet she was so very insecure. She didn't think herself to be worthy of being his mate- which was the most ridiculous thing possible.

And Azriel knew that he hadn't made any of it any better.

He wanted nothing more than to sweep her into his arms and shower her with reassurances, but he had no idea how to convince her he would never, ever, want anyone else.

Eira was...so perfect, so sweet and soft and gentle- And she didn't think she was enough.

She didn't think that he could want her, because of Elain of all people.

It made his chest ache, the way she felt about herself, about her place in his life, and the fact he had done nothing to make her think he cared. He had not made her feel wanted. Wanted by him.

She had no reason to be worried; no reason to be insecure. And yet she was, and it broke his heart to realise that some of that insecurity had to do with him. He had failed to set her mind at ease, to convince her that there was no one in this entire world that he could want but her.

He hadn't done anywhere near a good enough job of convincing her that she was the only one for him. He hadn't done a good job at all to soothe her worries, to make her feel better about herself. To make her feel...loved.

He had not shown her how much he valued her, his sweet, beautiful mate, and he had done nothing to convince her that she was the only one for him.

"You really think that I will ever be able to look at Elain with anything other than hatred, ever again?" he asked her quietly. "After what she did ? After what she tried to take from us?"

Her eyes widened faintly, a hint of surprise on her face as his words sunk in.

She looked stunned, and a little ashamed, before something else flickered across her face. Hope, or something like hope, and relief. Relieved that the idea he might have still...wanted Elain to be his mate was so laughable to him.

"I am livid," he said, his voice strangely calm. "What she tried to take from us...what she tried to deny us...I will never forgive her for that."

He paused for a moment, his own words sinking in as he felt them.

Angry.

The word echoed in his mind, but it didn't seem to cover the depth of the emotions inside him.

He had always wanted a family. Had always wanted children. Had wanted what he himself had never had as a child. He had wanted to have a mate, and a family, and everything that came with having a mate and a family.

Centuries of watching others find that kind of happiness while knowing that the chances of it happening for him were so slim…

So many years of being so very alone, and wishing for something that he was starting to think wouldn’t ever happen to him. And after having finally found it- he was pissed that someone had tried to take it from him.

And there was guilt, too, if he was being honest with himself. Guilt for having been so stupid, foolish enough to fall prey to Elain's manipulations, to let himself be played like a puppet by her words and subtle tricks.

He had been so blind, letting himself be fooled by her for so many months, and in the end, it was only the miracle of the cauldron's intervention...the very thing Elain had been trying to prevent, in order to hurt him...that had led him to his mate.

And now…

He was angry and guilty and a dozen other things all at once.

Eira was staring at him, a mixture of stunned surprise and shame on her face, and a wave of realisation swept over him. "You do not ever, ever need to worry about my feelings for Elain again," he pledged. "I swear to you."

Her shoulders sagged faintly, a wave of something like pure relief washing over her face, and a flash of shame and embarrassment flickered in her eyes.

She looked a little sheepish as if her insecurity was something to be ashamed of, and he knew that he needed to say more. Needed to reassure her that her fears, her own insecurity, were a mistake and that she had been worrying over nothing.

"Elain…" Azriel began slowly, drawing a breath to steady his own emotions. "She...she was someone I found...physically attractive. She is beautiful and charming. But that is as far as my feelings for her ever went. That is all she ever was - all she will ever be to me. Elain is also one of the ugliest people I ever met, driven by jealousy and envy. She tried to keep her vision from becoming reality. For no other reason but her own jealousy. She hurt you, Eira. She hurt you and she tried to take our children from us."

He paused then, a flash of rage filling his veins as he thought about everything Elain had done.

Trying to stop him and Eira from mating...trying to deny them their children...

Trying to cause Eira such pain, to the point of tears, and for what?

Jealousy.

She had hurt his mate because she had been jealous.

Trying to stop her vision from coming true...she hadn't just been hoping that his and Eira's mating wouldn't happen. She has been actively trying to prevent it. She had manipulated and played him like a fool, letting him believe that she cared for him, all the while…

All the while, she had been plotting, trying to push him away from his mate, trying to cause problems between them...

And he had just...let her. He hadn't even realised what was happening, so wrapped up in her words and her lies.

"I hate her," he said quietly, his voice almost a growl. "I hate her. I hate her for what she did to you. For what she tried to take from us. The only reason why she isn't dead right now, why I didn't slaughter her the moment I found out, Eira, is the fact that she is your sister," he spat out.

Shock rippled across Eira's face, her mouth falling open in surprise at the venom he spoke with.

He meant every word of it too, his hatred for Elain burning in his veins.

The only reason Elain was still alive was because Eira would have been devastated if he killed her. It was the only thing that had stopped him from taking her head, the knowledge that it would hurt his mate if he did.

"If anybody else, anybody else at all, had laid their hands on my mate or on my children, I would have killed them. Damn the consequences," he hissed. "So yes, Eira. I am angry at Elain," he said evenly. "And you do not ever need to worry about my feeling for her ever again."

Eira stared at him, grey-blue eyes wide.

And Eira was watching him silently as he slowly calmed himself down, her face still stunned, but...somehow more relaxed than she had been moments ago.

As if she had needed to hear him say it as much as he had needed to say it. To know for sure that he was telling the truth - to hear him say he hated her sister, and hear him say he could never, ever look at Elain the way he looked at her.

She reached out for him, one small, soft hand against his cheek. There was no disgust on her face. If anything...there was pride there.

"Anybody else lays a hand on our children...you'll kill them," she said, her voice even. "Do not hesitate. Do not for one moment think that I do not want you to do it, that I will hate you for it, that I will judge you for it."

He stilled, stunned a little by her words.

He had been expecting...something. Discomfort, shame, or disgust at his hatred for her sister.

Instead, there was...pride, and...approval.

She...she wanted to know that he would kill for their children.

That he would kill for her, and wouldn't hesitate to do it.

The realisation sent a shiver down his spine.

Nobody had ever approved of his penchant for violence before.

Nobody had ever seemed...happy, to know how far he would be willing to go to protect his own.

And Eira - his sweet, gentle, shy, kind mate - was looking at him like it was a good thing that he would hunt down and kill for his own.

"You..." he started, stunned, as he struggled to find the words to say. "You... don't mind that I...hate her," he said slowly. "You...don't care if I kill people. To protect you - and our children."

She shook her head, the hint of a smile crossing her features.

She was...pleased. She looked....proud, that his protective instincts - his ruthless fury - would extend to her. To his mate. To protect her and their children, and anything else he considered to be under his care.

"Anyone who threatens us, you can kill," she said simply. "I will never condemn you for it. Never."

See Master, you should have let us kill The Seer, the shadows sniped.

He wrapped her in his arms, the tight coils of tension in his stomach relaxing a little as he held her tightly against his chest.

"I’ll make mistakes, as I have before. I’ll say the wrong things. I’ll probably even make you cry at some point. But I will never want anyone but you. Not Elain. Just you," he pledged in a whisper. She exhaled, her shoulders unfurling. The right thing. He had said the right thing. This...this right here, the feel of her in his arms, the sound of her steady breathing against his chest, and the soft smell of snowdrops that clung to her...this was all he needed.

His mate. Her, here, in his arms.

Just Eira.

***

Eira wasn’t allowed into the kitchen. It should probably amuse her that the twin wraiths that she called friends had thrown her out. Cerridwen and Nuala had told her that they were going to be busy with birthday preparations the whole day and that Eira wasn’t allowed to enter or she was going to destroy the surprise. 

She didn’t even want to know what the surprise was. 

So instead, she spent her day amusing Nyx in the morning before Feyre took him to a painting lesson, had her lesson with Rhys, and then disappeared into her own room to continue her sewing. 

The shadows were very helpful these days. No need for her to pin anything, they did that. They also marked the hemline on all the dresses and helped organize her embroidery floss by wrapping it around little wooden floss keys that fit into a storage container just for that. 

Another one of those things that had just suddenly appeared in her room. She hadn’t asked questions.

Today, she put the last few stitches into a gown she had made. Quite frankly…it was lovely. One of her better work if she said so herself.  

Layers upon layers of tulle and silk…overlaid and embroidered, sparkling in the afternoon sun.  She stitched the last button on the back of it and then closed it on her mannequin, stepping back to look at her work. 

It was…beautiful. 

It was then, that the shadows came rushing around, draping the shawl she had made out of one of the pelts Azriel had given her over the gown…. dropping a pair of matching shoes on the floor next to the dress.

The gown and slippers, and a delicate-looking, silver-threaded bag, the shawl made out of the fur of a mountain lion…something that even in Prythian was so utterly expensive that people didn’t just simply buy it. 

It...it was beautiful.

It wasn't just a gown. It was an ensemble.

It was perfect. She wanted to see herself. The image was something she ached to see. Imagined herself twirling in a cloud of glitter and lace, hair falling in loose waves around her shoulders and… Gods, she wanted to wear it.

There was a sudden knock at the door. The Morrigan , the shadows supplied, sounding...she didn't even have words to explain how they sounded.

Mor? What did she want from her?

Eira's heart skipped, and she quickly turned towards the door.

“Come in!” Eira called, fiddling with a thin tulle wrap she had originally made to go along with the gown. It was the one piece where she had figured that if she was careful enough and kept the lightning between her fingers very steady…she could burn the edges of the fabric and seal them. No more need for hemming on these tissue-thin fabrics. No need for a mental breakdown.

At least the lightning at her fingertips was useful for something . 

Still, Eira didn't understand what Mor wanted with her. She hadn't spoken to the other woman in a while, and...well, honestly Eira wasn't quite sure what Mor thought of her. Or wanted with her in the first place. 

"I ...I was wondering if I could have a moment of your time," Mor asked as she stepped into her room, taking in the gown still on the mannequin. "Or am I interrupting anything?"

"Oh, no, not at all," Eira assured her. Her work had been finished, and she had been waiting the past hour anyway for Azriel to arrive, so no, she wasn't in the middle of anything important. "...Did you...need something?"

"I wanted to apologise," Mor said quietly. "What I said to you...during that dinner...that you were pretty much useless as far as cauldron made went..." she shuddered as she recounted the words. "It was...out of line. I meant it as a joke, but it wasn't funny."

Eira stilled, stunned into silence for a moment as Mor apologized. It...she hadn't really been expecting an apology for those words, for that comment that Mor had said so dismissively that night…

As far as cauldron-made goes, she is pretty much useless.

It had hurt her. Of course, it had. But she had buried it deep down, where...deep down with everything else that had been said.

But...here she was. Mor was actually, genuinely apologizing.

"I -," Eira started, still stunned. She didn't really know what to say in response - how could she, had she really been expecting Mor to truly apologize for something she had said what felt like ages ago?

Something that might have been dismissed as a throwaway, joking comment, but...it still hurt. Still left her feeling like...like it was true

"Please," Mor said quietly, cutting across Eira’s thoughts. "Please don’t try and claim you weren't hurt. I know I said something awful. I was...I was being thoughtless. And stupid. And...I’m sorry."

Eira bit the inside of her cheek, unable to help the flash of surprise that went over her face.

She...didn't know how to react to Mor apologizing. She was supposed to...accept the apology, of course. But it felt...strange, to actually hear it.

And Mor....she really was sorry. Eira could see it in her face - see that she truly regretted the callous words.

"I...I was hurt," Eira answered honestly after a moment, and she saw a brief wince pass over Mor's face in response. "But...but I..."

No. She shouldn't say it, shouldn't admit that she had already shoved the words away. That she was...used to this. Used to being dismissed, pushed aside, and thought of as useless.

That this was normal for her. It was a little pathetic like that.

It stung, but...she was so used to it, the sting... it had been a familiar sensation.

But...no, Mor looked so contrite, and so...hurt, and all Eira could do was swallow the words.

"I...I accept your apology," Eira managed, and it was the truth. Mor had admitted that it had been wrong, had apologized, and...it was more than she had ever gotten from most people in her life. 

And now the Morrigan looked relieved, as if she had truly thought that there was a chance Eira would have refused to accept the apology."I - thank you," Mor said quietly and then gave her an almost shy little smile. "The dress looks lovely, by the way," she said, her gaze running over the gown clinging to the mannequin.

Eira glanced back at the gown, running a gentle hand over the fabric.

She had worked so hard on it, and...it really had turned out rather lovely.

"Ah - thank you," she murmured back, quietly touched at the praise from the other woman.

Maybe they could all…move on.

Eira returned her shy little smile, and her heart felt...lighter, all of a sudden.

Mor...she had apologized, and they were…moving on.

And when her birthday dawned the next morning…the fact that Elain wasn’t there, wouldn’t be there…it was alright.

Feyre had sent a gift, and Eira had added the hair ribbons she had made months ago to it. 

It was all she allowed herself to think about her twin sister that day. 

The surprise ended up being a raspberry and chocolate cake, and there were far more gifts on the table than she had ever expected, and a few that even made her cry as she opened them - Cassian and Rhys, as it turned out, weren’t completely hopeless with gifts.

A whole stack of books from Nesta, everything from embroidery to romance novels that she was sure to make her blush…To her incredible surprise, sheet music from Cassian. Human sheet music for her harp. She had been playing by ear and memory but with that…she wouldn’t need to anymore. 

Lengths of fabric and ribbons from Feyre, supplies for her craft, and even the incredible spun gold and silver she used for embroidery only sparingly, because getting it was horribly expensive… a glossy, dark wooden sewing box on legs from Rhysand, that she could pull out. 

It was beautiful.

"It should be used," Rhys told her quietly. "It used to be my mother's. But I think she would much rather have it be used than quietly languish away."

The gift rendered her speechless for a moment.

Rhys...had given her a family heirloom, of sorts - a sewing box that had belonged to his own mother. Because....he thought that it should be used.

Not only was it beautiful, but the simple act of giving it...it was a gesture that spoke volumes. Eira traced a hand over the polished surface of the box, running trembling fingertips over the intricate designs that had been carved into the wood.

"You should keep it in the family," she protested. He should keep it...maybe if Feyre and him ever had a daughter…

"It will be in the family. You are family," Rhys said with a smile, and for a moment, she wondered if she would cry.

He considered her family, and - it was almost enough to bring tears to her eyes to hear him say that. "We are all family here, Eira," he assured her, giving her a wink as he added. "And I think my mother would much prefer for the box to be well and truly filled with supplies. So...I expect it to be covered in threads and needles and other things by the time this year is over."

She gave a little watery laugh at his words, as she nodded.

His mother...Rhys’ mother...she would want it to be filled to the brim, wouldn’t she?

She would want the box to be used, not to languish quietly the same way it had for who knew how long.

“I promise you, I will fill every spare inch of it,” Eira vowed. 

"Good," Rhys said, looking quite satisfied as he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms across his chest. "Now open the gift from Mor. I'm afraid Cassian and I had to supervise to make sure she didn't get you something truly appalling."

She laughed wetly but did unwrap Mor's gift, which turned out to be a very innocent handbag, that she actually quite liked. But even with all of these gifts unwrapped, a small pile of wrapping paper behind her...there still was a mountain left.

"From whom are the rest of the gifts?" Mor wondered.

“Oh, I have an idea,” Azriel said darkly.

It made her jump, when the shadows gleefully announced Happy Birthday!

Eira's head snapped sideways, blinking in the direction of where they were flickering around Azriel.

For a moment, Eira felt a little bewildered, as she took in the massive pile of gifts that were left, and turned, looking back at Azriel. The sheer number of the gifts...and she could tell, from the looks on the other's faces, that they weren’t expecting the amount either.

She glanced back at Azriel and the shadows as they flickered and twined around him, nearly gleefully. "What..." she managed weakly. "What are all of these...?"

Gifts! they said proudly. We got you gifts too!

She froze, and then her jaw dropped.

But - there were...there were so many, and the shadows...they had gotten her gifts, the same way everybody else had and -

She took in the huge pile of them, her eyes wide as her heart gave a pang at the sheer size of the little mountain.

They hadn’t just gotten her a single gift.

They had....gotten her dozens.

"I see that," she said weakly. "Are you sure you needed to buy that many?"

They seemed a mixture of offended and insulted that she would even question their decision, which...she probably should have expected, given that they had been rather...intense about the gifts. Of course, they would take offence to her not wanting gifts.

Azriel rolled his eyes a bit at the response, and chuckled. "They were very...specific about the amount, sweetheart," he murmured dryly. "I stopped them after this, they wanted to get even more," he admitted with a sigh.

"Of course they did," she said faintly, her eyes wide as she looked at the pile again.

Of course, they wanted even more than this.

They had been adamant about this, and...and… There had to almost be two dozen wrapped packages, maybe more.

"Well, unwrap them!" Nesta demanded.

She knew better than to argue with her oldest sister, so she did. 

Eira didn’t know what was more shocking…the three boxes of jewellery she gained, one of them with a necklace that featured sapphires the size of chicken eggs…Or maybe the four new dresses, all of them more expensive and luxurious than she had ever imagined.

Or the entire chest of craft supplies –thread, fabric of all colors, needles to match, scissors, pins, needles, beads, sequins, and other little decorations that almost had her head swimming just looking at.

As it was, she was rendered so speechless that even Nesta seemed rather...shocked at the jewellery, eyeing one of the bracelets that were nearly as thick as Eira’s wrist and made of thick, solid white gold.

"Bloody hell..." Cassian mumbled, as Eira unwrapped box after box, and it felt like the pile just kept on going.

Some of it was practical - new scissors, new thimbles, the sort of things that were...necessary. Other pieces...the jewellery, the dresses, the sheer amount of craft supplies... had her feeling a little stunned.

"How often do they play the lottery again?" she asked Azriel weakly, making him laugh when she finally unwrapped the last piece.

"They had 500 years, to amass a fortune," he said drily. "And never really anybody to spend it on."

She couldn’t help but laugh too, as he reminded her of that very relevant fact.

500 years...and they had never had someone they wanted to spend on.

"Thank you," she told them earnestly. "But next year, you could just buy me...one or two things and not...three dozen."

They pouted, but...she was pretty sure she could actually convince them to not get quite as many gifts next year. Just...not so many.

She was sure she would have plenty left over for the following hundred years after all.

"It does make my gift maybe pale in comparison," Azriel said drily, as he carefully lifted a box onto her lap. "Happy Birthday, Eira."

She huffed at him. "Don't be silly, I know I’m going to love whatever you give me," she assured him quietly, as she carefully peeled away the wrapping paper.

A moment later, she jumped in surprise at the little mrrrp that came from the box.

She froze, her heart leaping into her throat, and she was about to ask what had just made that little noise when she suddenly heard a soft purring sound.

For a moment, she just...stared down at the box, before glancing up at Azriel for confirmation.

"She missed you," he just said softly. "My mother felt like it was very unfair to keep her when she seemed to have picked her person already."

Her eyes went wide, as it sank in what was in the box.

Azriel’s mother’s kitten. The white one that she hadn’t seen since it had clung to her so desperately For a moment, she just...sat there, speechless, before she looked up at Azriel, eyes wide.

She reached down, and gently lifted the fluffy white ball of fur from the box, holding it carefully in her hands.

The kitten... looked up at her with those wide blue eyes and mewed again.

And then it...climbed into her lap, curling up, and purring contentedly.

She was nearly shaking as she gently stroked its soft fur.

The little kitten...it was even more beautiful than she remembered, its fur as soft as the silk of one of her new dresses. It nuzzled itself against her, and then its little eyes slowly drifted shut as it began to fall asleep. She...she didn’t know what to say, still stroking the soft, soft fur as the little ball of fluff in her lap purred itself to sleep.

She...loved it.

And the fact that it fell asleep so easily in her lap as if Eira was the only option it would ever accept… made her tear up a bit.

She turned in her chair to face Azriel, still stroking the little kitten in her lap.

"I..." her voice caught in her throat, overcome with emotion as she continued to stroke the impossibly soft fur. "I love...I love her," she managed the tears that had threatened to fall now running down her cheeks.

Azriel chuckled a little, before reaching out to brush a few of the tears away with his thumb.

"I know you do," he murmured softly, and gently stroked the little kitten's ears, which flicked away at the touch, even as she continued to sleep.

Eira sat there for a moment in silence, just...stroking the little white ball of fluff in her lap.

Even in her sleep, the kitten had curled into a perfect little ball, and its soft purring...it was one of the most soothing sounds she had ever heard, she was pretty sure.

It was the best birthday she ever had

"Thank you," she told Azriel later that evening as she walked him to the door of the River House. It had quieted down, Nesta and Cassian disappearing to the House of Wind, where Azriel would follow, Rhys and Feyre upstairs with Nyx.

Azriel paused at the door, leaning against the frame, and a soft smile appeared on his face.

The white kitten was fast asleep in her arms, as she smiled up at him happily.

"You’re welcome, sweetheart," he whispered and reached out to brush a few strands of hair back from her face. "Did you get everything you wished for?" he asked her softly

She nodded at his question, as she stroked the soft, impossibly soft fur of the sleeping kitten in her arms. She had more than she had ever dreamed of asking for.

She had clothes, a treasure trove of fabric and thread and crafts supplies, that little ball of fluff in her arms...and she had Azriel.

“Everything, and more,” she whispered back. "Though there is one thing..."

He raised a brow, and his lips twitched faintly.

“One thing?” he echoed, his voice still soft, as she shifted the napping kitten a little in her arms. “What’s that, sweetheart?”

She shifted a little, as she leaned on the door frame herself, careful not to wake the little ball of fluff.

A faint blush appeared on her face. “Could...could I have a kiss?” she asked with a shy smile, her voice quiet.

The request made his eyes go wide, and darken...

And then he leaned down, closing the distance between them easily, the Shadows dancing around them as he bent his head down to gently kiss her.

She melted against him, her eyes drifting shut, and for a moment, she was pretty sure her heart nearly stopped.

One of his hands came up to cup her chin, gently tilting her head up just a bit, and her knees went weak.

He kissed her softly, gently, like she was the most priceless thing he had ever touched.

Her heart gave a little pang in her chest at that, his lips moving gently against hers, as he cradled her jaw in his hand, his calloused fingertips tracing against the skin of her throat.

“Happy Birthday, Eira.”

[peanutpinet]

BABE!!!! We absolutely need a second part to Little Things, we need to know how their relationship develops and see Sylus fall in lover with reader's soul. PLEASE BABE PLEASE!!!

Welcome to My World - Sylus x Fem Reader (Sequel to Little Things)

Request: Craving for a sequel to this w/ reader actually going back to her world and sylus just defying all odds shshshshs these kinds of fics are so interesting love em <3

A/N: Just a lil something for those who wanted to see what would Sylus be like if he were to actually come out of the screen and into our world (still having his evol but is not addressed). Also if anyone is a Kpop fan, I just want to say, do have a listen to Aespa’s Welcome to My World. It embodies this fic so much and am putting some of the lyrics into the story! I hope you guys enjoy!!

Disclaimer: I do not own the images nor the characters or you (the MC). All images were taken from Pinterest.

Also, if you haven't read Little Things, the "first part" of the story, do have a read. Will be link here. But you don't have to read it and can just read each of these fics seperately

Warnings: Fluff but mainly ANGST, Isekai Theme, Will be Going back and Forth between LADS universe and our universe, slow burn because Sylus is tryna find you :))

Funfact: I remembered the TV Show: Westworld and how the characters of the game gain conciousness when writing this fic

Songs to listen to: NCT Dream - Broken Melodies, Aespa - Welcome to My World, NCT Dream - Like We Just Met

N109 Zone - 01:48 AM

It was in the middle of the night. When all are asleep, people in the N109 zone, those in the shadows have only started to wake up and get on about their day, including Sylus. Slowly awakening from his slumber, Sylus saw the girl that was beside him, fast asleep. Her chest was rising and falling in a steady motion; indicating that she was in a deep sleep.

Smiling to himself, Sylus decided to scootch a bit closer and caressed the girl’s cheek. But as he did, the girl immediately grabbed his wrist tightly and jerked awake. “Who the fuck…w-where am I?!”

Hearing the girl’s words, Sylus knew. “You’re not her…”

Real World - 09:28 AM

You woke up with a pounding headache but slowly regained your consciousness, you noticed how the bed wasn’t as big nor was it as warm as when you were used to. Jerking up, you took in the room you were in. The bright white ceiling was the first thing you see, the smell of alcohol and blood was faint but you could smell it, and then you heard a beeping noise which made you turn and saw that your hand was hooked onto a monitor and an IV drip.

Whipping your head around, you search for your phone until you find it and immediately look at the date when you suddenly get a notification from both Instagram and Twitter mentioning the new update for Love and Deepspace.

“I’m back…” you sobbed yet your fingers glided across the screen of your phone, pressing the game that you swore you were in

As the game loads, you see the cutscenes of all of the characters and can’t help but feel emotionally overwhelmed whenever you see Sylus’ cutscenes.

Once the game loaded and you could hear that cafe jingle along with those familiar red eyes, you tried to see whether or not anything had changed in the game other than the new updates but when you clicked on his tall figure, the lines he said were nothing out of the ordinary. Even in the text message icon, you couldn’t text him like you did when you were in the game.

“Was it all just a dream?”

“Y-you’re awake!!” you heard someone talk and as your eyes looked at the doorframe, it was the nurse

You soon found out that you had been in a coma for a little over 2 weeks yet it felt like you were in the game for 2 months, maybe even more. Your best friends came to visit you every day and now that you’re awake, they were bombarding you with food, life updates, and all.

For once, you actually didn’t feel as lonely as you were when you appeared in the game.

Maybe it truly was all just a dream…

From a distance, a black crow was watching your interaction with your friends from a tree that was just outside of your window. After some time, the crow eventually fled and flew away from the tree.

N109 Zone - 04:18 AM

Sylus was beyond pissed. He took MC to where he took you in the beginning to get your evol and aether core checked but additionally, he wanted to know if you were truly not in the MC’s body. Sylus’ worker questioned as to why he brought MC again to check her evol and aether core, confusing the Onychinus’ leader.

Even when the two came home, the twins didn’t notice any difference from MC. What’s wrong with everyone? You’re not MC and it goes the other way as well. Why were the twins pestering MC who to Sylus, was not you.

“But boss, Miss Hunter and you have known each other for over 2 months now. What do you mean she’s not her?” Luke questioned, genuinely confused at his boss’ attitude

“She’s not. Have you forgotten who taught you both how to cook the simplest meal? The one that bought you those bulletproof vests?” Sylus demanded, something, anything about your sudden disappearance or at the very least, anyone other than him remembering your existence

“It’s Miss Hunter, though?” Kieran replied, making Sylus groan. “Just, leave me alone for the next few days” Sylus left the room and walked past MC who grabbed his wrist, making his brow arch in confusion.

Sighing, Sylus turned to see MC. “What is it that you want?”

“Where are you going? I went through all the trouble to get the N109 zone and I want answers regarding the aether core” MC demanded but Sylus just chuckled and used his evol to remove MC’s hand from his wrist

“You already have the aether core you’re looking for. Why don’t you go back and ask your doctor about that? I have other matters to attend to. Like why are you here instead of her” Sylus mentioned, walking away until MC talked to him

“You’re always mentioning her but you never mentioned her name. Who are you exactly talking about and what does it have to do with me?” MC questioned and this time, Sylus grabbed her by her neck and pinned her to the nearest wall

“Don’t tempt my patience. I only have so much left ever since your attitude shows up instead of something else I want. From here on out, I could care less about your little quest. You can even have that brooch you’re wearing to get in and out of the N109 zone without getting harmed. But I want you to leave. Go back to your doctor, that fish man of an artist, or fake hunter for all I care. When I come back to this place, I hope that you’re not here anymore. Or you’ll hurt even more” Sylus warned, releasing MC as he went who knows where.

Sylus went into his car, the car that you love to drive in. Though you were just a soul in MC’s body, he could immediately tell the two of you apart. What scent do you like, the small trinkets that you would buy to keep his things more organized, some small keychain plushies that he would put on his keys which is in contrast to his scary look.

You might just be a soul that just so happens to be in MC’s body, the body of a person he should’ve been interacting with, the one he should’ve been bound to. But why does his heart feel incomplete? Why does his soul long for your own.

Gripping onto the steering wheel, Sylus looked at the plushie you put in this car. It was a koala, one of your favourite plushies, because you told him that you looked like a koala when Sylus carried you around. “I swore to you that if this were to happen, I would find you. Regardless what happens, I will find a way to get back to you. Our stories’ unfinished, sweetie. Wait for me. I’ll do anything to get back to you”

Real World

It’s been several months since you woke up. You still played the game but not as often anymore. You got a job at your friend’s office as a secretary. It pays well, you and your friend are roommates, life has been going fairly well that you barely played the game that provided you comfort.

One day, however, there was a bouquet of red Carnations mixed with pink Camillas on your desk with a note attached to it. “I hope this gets to you. If this ever reaches you, it means that I’m another step closer to seeing you again. There’s this uneasy feeling I’ve been feeling since you were gone. I promise I won’t stop finding you”

Confused, you asked everyone, including the delivery man who delivered the flowers to you but no one knew where it came from. It didn’t even mention your name and only a description of you.

Brushing it off, you thought it must’ve been some kind of prank until several more flowers reached you. One after another, there were notes along with the flowers which all made your heart clench because whoever this person was, it seemed that either you left a very deep impression on them or this was some sort of stalker.

“Did the first one reach you? I’m getting closer”

“I hope that you’re eating well. Wait for me”

“It seems that you’ve forgotten about me once more. No matter, I’ll be sure to jog your memory once we meet again”

Another year has finally passed and the bouquet and notes kept on coming until you saw the flowers and notes that came in. Instead of the usual red Carnation or pink Camillas or even sometimes Forget me nots, this time it was a bouquet of black and red roses with a note of a familiar handwriting and scent.

“I’ve finally found you. You said that you were worried about me finding the real you but to me, you’re just as perfect as your soul. Your face, your body, it matches your soul perfectly. And even though you might’ve forgotten about me, I assure you that my love for you is still the same like we just met. Perhaps in the game, I would allow you to go live your life without me because it’s safer for you. But here, looking at you, I can feel myself coming alive once more. Whether you try to move on, I know that there’s a lingering feeling behind your pretty head thinking of the possibility. And you would be correct, sweetie. I’m fulfilling my promise to you. For there is no love greater than mine.

P.S: we should thank Mephisto for always managing to find you when I couldn’t

-Sylus”

You were in shock. Sure, there was a small voice, hidden behind all your to-dos, your schedules, your wants, likes, needs. A faint voice telling you of the possibility that perhaps Sylus was the one to send you all those flowers and notes but you were in your world, the real world. You would lock that faint voice and never think about it again. You were realistic. There was no way that a fictional 3D man would send you all of that.

And Mephisto? He’s a bird. A mechanical bird that is tied with Sylus. Everything seemed ridiculous. You couldn’t think straight for the rest of the day until your boss called you for a sudden meeting outside of the office and at a restaurant.

The restaurant was filled with high-class people, some were doing business with another while others were simply finding ways to spend their money. Suddenly, it reminded you of the time when you were in MC’s body and Sylus would take the two of you out to dinner.

Remembering Sylus, the flowers, and the note, you decided to excuse yourself to the restroom but in reality, you decided to log into the very game you downloaded to seek comfort. The nostalgia was coming back. They made a new update and introduced a new male character. Once your game loads, Sylus is still in the game and when you poke him, thinking that he’ll respond like how he would when a player hasn’t logged in for so long, he surprises you.

“You’re probably wondering why am I not responding to you in a way that you expect. Well, why don’t you check my messages on the message feature, sweetie?” Sylus mentioned and immediately, you went to open the message feature in the game and once again, you were shocked with what you read on the screen that you had to cover your mouth.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it, kitten? I’m sad that you’ve forgotten about me but I’m genuinely happy with how you’re living your life so far”

“But if I were to tell you that I want to be apart of your life here, would you accept me?”

You were given the chance to answer him, to reply to this sudden message but your boss had already called you back and unfortunately, you had to go back to the table and sit beside your boss.

As you were about to sit down, you heard that familiar soothing voice that always calms your nerves; especially when you’re in the N109 zone. “Is this your secretary that we’ve been waiting for?”

Immediately, you looked up and met with those soft bright red eyes behind small glasses. The white hair you’ve gone through with your fingers was styled like how you first met him. The figure sitting in front of you was wearing a soft grey sweater and black jeans.

And that smile, that smile that you’re so used to seeing everyday is now showing in front of you again. “Pleased to meet you, sweetheart. Shall we begin the meeting?”

Throughout the meeting, you tried your best to pay attention and jot down all the notes you needed. You struggled for a moment and even towards the end, you stutter your thank you and goodbyes until the white-hair man called you.

“Waiting for someone, sweetie?” you heard that damn voice as you could feel all hairs on your skin stand up

Turning around, you finally got a good look at him. All of his 190cm height was towering over your figure. Your actual real-life self and not the MC you created in the game.

On one side, you wanted to talk, to question him if all of this was just another one of those visions you used to have. On the other, you wanted to jump at the man in front of you. To cry in his arms as he holds you close. But nothing. You were frozen in your spot as this Sylus look-alike smirked at you and held his index out which suddenly a black crow rest on.

“Is, is that…” you managed to utter, making the man in front of you chuckle

“Mephisto. An actual crow this time” he said, extending his hand out so the black crow was within your reach

Extending your own index out, the black crow, Mephisto went onto your index and you instinctively stroke its head. “We never stop looking for you, you know”

You look up to see those eyes that once were filled with rage now filled with sadness. Sighing, you tried to remind yourself that this is the real world, not your game.

“I'm sorry, sir. You must've gotten the wrong person. I don't think we’ve met before this meeting today. Your bird must be very friendly to have gone on another person’s hand” you mentioned, intending to return the black crow, still not believing that the man and bird in front of you are who you think they are

But instead, the man in front of you turned and took something from his pocket. “Is that so? Well then either you don’t want to remember what we’ve been through or Mephisto might’ve gotten the wrong person. Then how about we reintroduce ourselves to one another?”

“I’m Sylus, this is Mephisto. We were from a faraway land called the N109 zone. For the past year, I've been building my multimillion security tech company” Sylus mentioned, extending his hand out, revealing the brooch that you once wore as a promise to Sylus to stay by him

Shocked to see the brooch, you stutter at your words but Sylus noticed this and gently took one of your hands which you didn’t deny. “I meant what I said and I’m keeping my promise. My only regret is I couldn’t come find you sooner”

“H-how? This has got to be a joke. You’re not real. You’re not actually here. I must be dreaming again. I’m going mad” you started to lose your mind but Sylus pulled you into a hug

“Tell me this isn’t real then. Tell me that you don’t see me. Tell me that you don’t feel this warmth we both have wanted for a long time. Tell me you don’t want this and I’ll gladly walk away from you so that you can continue to live your life as is but don’t expect me not to want to be a part of your life. Don’t think that even if I walk away today, I won’t try my best to still keep an eye on you” Sylus stated, whispering into your ear, kissing right below your ear

Taking in his calming leather scent, you slowly sob in Sylus’ chest as he strokes your head, calming you. “You’re such a stubborn crow” you finally hug Sylus, indirectly accepting him back into your life

“I know. But it’s worth it. I finally get back to you. Though I can’t offer you as much as I would when we were in the N109 zone, I do promise you that I will be here this time. I’m not letting you go that easily. So, you’re willing to let me back?” Sylus asked, making you chuckle

“Welcome to the real world, my world, Sylus” you said, getting on your tiptoe to give his cheek a kiss but instead, Sylus turned his head, held your neck and leaned for an actual kiss

A/N: Ngl, I was simping over my own writing of this. Where can we find an irl Sylus T^T

[pedge-page]

Mother Who Indulges

Joel Miller x F! Reader

Summary: Joel’s found other means to get his favorite snack. But he’s bad at hiding the evidence taking form on his own body.

Can be read as sequel to Mother Who Provides or on its own.

Warnings: Fat!Joel, Sub! Joel, breastfeeding, lactation kink, feedee/feeder, burping, belly worship, belly button licking, gluttony, riding, vaginial fingering, m! Masturbation, forced feeding, hands free ejaculation, unprotected sex, breeding kink, cream pie, switch dynamic at the end, Mommy and brief Daddy kink, nipple play for Joel, derogatory names such as cow or hog (towards Joel)

18+ ONLY

- - - -

Your husband was never a closet eater. 

Joel was someone who enjoyed food in the company of others. Never saw it as anything more than fuel for the body, only ate when he needed it. Sure, he wouldn’t turn down a soda and a bag of chips every blue moon, but the amount of physical labor he does at his job always combats any minimal amount of snacking he does. He’s always been in perfect, lovable shape. Not shredded abs by any means, but he had just the right strength to carry you bridal style, just the right softness to cuddle up against him like a warm pillow.

Or at least, he used to.

You started to notice it after the 6 month mark of brining your baby home. As you very slowly lost a few pounds of post partum weight, Joel seemingly started to gain them—a couple dozen of them. And it was … odd. 

He didn’t go out to eat—the man preferred a home cook meal and saving a few bucks where he could. There also weren’t any suspicious amounts of extra processed snacks coming into the house. And it’s not like Joel was slacking off on the construction site by any means. And yet, you noticed it when he started huffing just to get his once baggy jeans over his thickened belly. Or the way his shirts stretched a little tighter over his chest. Or the extra grunts after any regular amount of food. 

The only real change was that 10-month old Sarah had started refusing pre-bagged bottle milk. The little thing ONLY wanted mama’s nana’s straight from the tap. And that meant Joel’s little breastfeeding habits had to go on pause so that your baby would actually eat.

“Picky little thing,” he grumbled with folded arms as your baby sucked away happily at your breasts, all wrapped up snugly in your arms. You could see the distain in his face—the idea that Sarah was no longer going to “share” your perky tits and even more delectable breastmilk. You were a full blown cow utter live and on demand when Sarah needed it.

You only laugh. “It’s all meant for the baby anyway. Besides, you got more than enough fill, right?”

He didn’t exactly answer you that night. Just grunted and walked away. You thought that was the end of it.

Until one night: half asleep and feeling an incredibly soreness in your breasts. It felt hot, wet, and heavy like a sack of potatoes sitting atop your chest, with a leach on the end of it. Though, you did notice they gradually felt lighter, which is strange. You always filled with milk over night. Groaning, your nipples felt twisty, sore as hell. Groggily you reach under the covers—God, why are they so hard and big? I can’t even feel it … oh, oh no. why it is hairy? And there’s growling coming from below.

 Panic ensures, fear that you’re turning into some hairy wolf beast stuck in a dream, becoming misshaped and hideous and—

You wake up fully and toss the covers off, revealing your husband who’s latched on to your tit, suckling the milk like in second heaven.

You stare down at him disappointingly. Joel only just realizes he’s been caught, your nip falling from his mouth with suctioned pop, as cream pours from his lips. Caught red handed.

“Um….sorry. Was hungry.”

You wack his head hard several times, enunciating, “That-is-for-the-baby!”

“Okay okay!”

“Do you do this often when I’m asleep?”

Joel shifts up slightly, staring down at your teeth ridden mounds. He clears his throat guiltily. “…No...”

He got an earful, and you were careful to make sure he didn’t try sneaking Sarah’s breakfast off of you in the early morning again. 

And that seemed like the end of it. He never brought it up or complained again.

And yet, the man was still gaining weight like nobody’s business…

-

Joel doesn’t like sneaking around his wife. 

Realistically, he should have been losing weight, what with the extra snack of your milk each night he could enjoy now entirely off the menu. He should have not been too indulgent either, as you may have noticed his... physical difference. In fact, he was surprised it didn’t really dawn on you, where all those extra pounds on your hubby are coming from.

Joel tiptoes down to the kitchen in the late night, far after you’re lightly snoring. He makes sure not to hit the pressure sensitive creaky floorboards too. Honestly, even with the extra weight, he’s pretty good at slinky-ing around. 

But his eagerness is getting the best of him. Rumbling through his body despite the slowness in his pace. He waits all day for this moment and can’t rush it now.

He cracks open the fridge, the light illuminating the dark kitchen as he briefly scans behind him again for any signs of movement. When the area is secure, he turn back. He’s so excited, goosebumps riveting his skin. Bubbles gurgling in his stomach. He’s become gluttonous, no doubt. But when you get that high, it’s hard to just quit cold turkey. 

Reaching behind the beer bottles, carefully laid under a foil wrap of steak, is his most prized possession of the late night endeavors: that extra sum of frozen baggies of your breastmilk in the freezer that you gracious kept saved and that his even more gracious baby now refuses to drink. To his luck, you must have mentally completely forgotten about them. He always pulls three each night and lets them thaw in their hidden place in the refrigerator, waiting all day for this exact moment.

His obtuse stomach rumbles. Joel typically wears a buttoned sleep shirt as of late since it was the only thing that fit him to bed. But now the bottom few buttons had torn off, leaving his fat gut rounded and hanging out. 

The hungry man licks his lips as he tears open the first buoyant bag of cream, his lips quivering when that first scent hits his nose. “Ah—oh fuck yeah. That’s the good stuff,” he groans, but quickly softens his voice again, remembering he can’t get caught on his indulgence.

He hastily dips a fat finger into the milk and swirls it before pushing past his lips. Joel closes his eyes, humming loudly as the taste of your fine breastmilk invade his buds, travel through his electrical signals to his brain that then releases pleasure throughout his entire body. He moans around his digit, sucking every little drop until he’s close to gnawing his finger off. Then he releases with a pop and grins, dipping two more fingers and scooping it out messily. Tilting back to drink the second helping. It drips down his palm, and he’s quick to suckle it up. None can be wasted.

He suppresses a slight burp. His large stomach screaming for more, for what he came he for. Joel tilts the baggie back over his head, leaning back and drinks the entire contents. Audible gulp after gulp, the sweet taste of milk fills his tongue and travels to his happy belly. All while his other wondering hand roams over the thick, stretched flesh, right over his belly button, jiggling the heavy underside of lard. God he feels so good like this. Getting gorged out on your milk, feeling so full and fulfilled from it. 

He wags the bag once the last few drops are struggling to pour, sticking his tongue out like a dog. Heat spreads from his core down to his loins. Joel grips his hardened length over his soft pj shorts. He can’t help it. He once had prime seat to your lap, drinking straight from your tits whenever he felt like it while you jerked him off. Now reduced to palming his hard-on while lapping at your bagged milk by himself in the dark late of night.

 The first bag never lasts. He makes sure to lick any remnant on his lips, squeezing his belly and groan with a pathetic whimper. He needs more. He always needs more. Thankfully there are two more bags for tonight, but fuck he could drink 300 right now and still never be full. 

His shirt stretches tightly over his chest, and he decides to unbutton the top few stained buttons. His puffy chest bursts through the fabric like a damn. Now fully free, the silk material hanging forgotten and obscured by his massive figure, Joel can now take more enjoyment out of tearing into the next bag and downing it even faster than the first.

He huffs out, breathing for the first time after slurping the entire bag in one go. Rubbing faster up and down his stiff cock. Shit, he’s gonna cum. Feels so euphoric having his tip bump against the lower hang of his pooch. The fat tip meeting his even fatter tummy. 

And your taste. That’s what sends him over every night. Has him cumming in his sleep shorts by the time he’s finished the third bag. Joel grunts, lifting his stomach from the underside so his other hand can palm his swollen dick. “Momma’s got the best milk,” he hums to himself, eyes closed in bliss. “Oh fuck fuck fuck, fuck yeah, I’m—I’m gonna—!”

“So!”

Joel swings around, crashing his body into the open refrigerator door, spilling his precious milk all over his tits and belly. Only to be met with you, your arms folded over your  chest, spaghetti silk nightgown adorning your figure and a knowing smirk on your face.

“So this is where you’ve been getting your little extra snacks.”

He’s speechless, caught and cornered with no where to go. His mouth opens, but no words leave, like a gaping fish out of water.

“Nothing to say, Joel?” You ask with a tilt of your head.

“I—its—“ he casts down at his belly sadly. God, he looks pathetic now. Cock rock hard and stabbing through his pants, and belly flush out like a pig at a buffet. You must think he’s disgusting like this. “I…I missed your milk, baby,” he says solemnly. “Got carried away, I guess.” 

Instead of the scolding he expects, you walk up to him quietly and bring his eyes to yours. Taking the bag of half drank breastmilk, he acquiesces and lets you. 

To his surprise, you hold it up slightly to mouth level for him. “Looks like you’re not finished yet, honey.” 

Joel stares at you, confused. But when you start palming his erection, gliding your hand up and around his belly with a swirling ticklish finger before brushing back down to his dick, he doesn’t have any braincells left. You push the bag forward and his jaw drops open once again, feeding him. With you at the control, he gulps quickly, afraid to lose any as you pour the entire contents at once. He sputters a moment when the bag is empty, too caught up on the pleasurable heat spreading in his crotch and core again. You kiss his lips, the sweet taste making you realize how difficult it must have been for him to give something so delightful up.

“Mmmm, that’s better?”

“Ah—oh—oh-yeah-so good baby-shit-“ he groans as you continue your ministrations on his member. With two hands, you hoist the underside of his enlarged middle, bouncing it up and down. 

“Oh, Joel,” you tsk. “So light. So empty! We’re not done yet big boy. Not even close.”

-

 They say there’s such a thing as too much of a good thing.

But as for Joel, stripped naked and sitting his fat ass on the couch, gorging on the funneled tube that’s been cascading a mix of whole and breastmilk into his stomach, he can confidently say that saying doesn’t apply here.

His finishes a big gulp before pulling the nozzle away, letting out a massive burp. As he grips the side of his belly, the rolls on his side multiplying before his vary eyes and skin stretching like a taught balloon, he’s never felt so full in his life. 

And it feels fucking amazing. 

He’s never felt so guilt-free, so perfectly enlightened and fully allowing himself to feel pleasure like to this level. 

“You full yet?” You coo. You’re standing next to him by the cough, a gallon of mixed milk partially full in one hand as you check on your gluttonous husband.

He shakes his head, devious and energized. “Hit me again, baby!” He puts the nozzle back in his mouth and rests the back of his head on the couch headrest again.

You chuckle but does as he says, pouring the jug into the large funnel. He can’t wait fast enough for the milk to force its way through the tube and finally squirts onto his tongue again.

“That’s my good boy. Mommy loves filling you up with her milk. No need to hide it from me any more baby. You keep drinking and drinking until you’re full.”

With one hand splayed over his belly button, physically feeling his gut fill past its maximum, he gets a quick glance at you. The way you giddily grin, eyeing him up and down in his fattened state like a delicious piece of steak. He’s never felt so sexy in his life.

His cock feels it too. Reddened and swollen beyond belief. curved against the swell of his belly leaving a sticky trail where his precum keeps nudging along. Though, with how much he’s packing into his stomach, he’s struggling more and more to be able to fully grasp his cock and jerk it with the mean pumps he usually does. Joel was the type of masturbator to grip his base with one hand while the other beats his meat like a car engine. His arms still retained their muscled strength, but everywhere else was starting to fill in. Now, he can only get one hand down there to gently tug on it. 

“Poor baby, got you so fat you can basely touch that little dick?” You tease. Though at the sheer size of him, Joel Miller’s cock is anything but ‘little.’ In fact, it’s even more imposing now, like somehow he added a few extra pounds onto his mini me as well to keep the proportions the same. 

“S’not little. I can—oh fuck—still reach jus’ fine.”

Another burp billows up his throat, and he just gets the tube out of his mouth to let it out. Hell, he can barely move. The amount of effort just to sit upright again makes him bounce his whole body, the fat moving at a slower pace. Fuck, even when he can’t fully jerk his cock like he used to, the pressure of his belly on top of his tip, smushing his balls into the couch feels heavenly. Especially when he bounces and rocks back and forth slightly. Friction doing its thing and grinding his sack between his big thighs. 

“Baby,” he gasps. “M so full of you.” He peers up to you with heart, drunken full pupils as he jiggles his belly. “M’ so packed tight. So much Mommy’s milk.” One finger trails up the fold under his pec, now swollen like a breast himself, before pinching and rolling his nips between his calloused fingers.

“Yeah? Let Mommy feel.” You press your palm over his chest, down to his belly that protrudes so far out. Despite being squishy earlier this night, his stomach is indeed bursting to its limit. Hardened just as yours was right before giving birth. 

“Aww, oh Joel…” you squeeze your thumb into his belly button and grip the lower half before jiggling it roughly. He gasps and pushes him belly out further for you, rocking his hips best he can into the air. “You really are full baby, huh? Greedy greedy piggy.”

“Mhm,” he hums with a pout, licking his lips. “Momma’s fat fuckin’ gluttonous hog. ‘At’s me.”

You prop the funnel up on a coat hook before sliding down to your knees in front of your husband. He leans as far forward as possible to be able to see all over you between his chunky legs, parted to let you breathe against his tummy that’s right up against your face.

You gently caress his sides along the rounded shape, holding his middle in your hands. You’re so soft against him, so loving and careful. He feels no different right now than when he used to be able to lie on your lap and feed from your tit. It’s been so long since then, and he realizes now this is the feeling he’d been chasing bag after bag all this time.

Your soft cheek presses into his skin there, making him sigh relaxed. 

He’s getting lost in the feeling of you on him, but you need to keep him on track.

“Keep drinking. You’ve got 2 more gallons.” You point towards the table where more mixed milk sits, and Joel settles up and begins gulping his cream again.

He moans, cock twitching against your chest as your tongue swirls around his belly button, dipping inside slightly. The hairs around his happy trail feel soft as you stroke along his naval. You can hear the little sloshing of liquid inside him each time you plant a wet kiss against his skin, making out with his gorged stomach. 

The weeping end of his length bobs painfully each time you brush it. You notice he’s glancing down at you playing with him, while he continues to swallow big batches down his throat. “You want me to take care of your little problem?”

He nods pitifully. 

“Not until you’re done.” You smile, standing up and gripping his belly harshly. He grunts but doesn’t release the bottled end, sucking more milk as you slap his belly repeatedly. Watching it wobble from the sheer effort and taking a moment to settle before you slap it again. Each time he whimpers but pushes it out more, asking for another.

“Greedy“—slap—“fat“—slap—“Milk hungry“—slap—“whore.”

You squeeze his plush tit, no bigger than an A cup but still, the man had nothing there before. He grunts and eyes you, dark and pleading. “Holy fuck, You’ve even got such cute cow titties Joel.” You giggle, rolling his perked nipples under you thumb while cupping the rest of the fat pooling there. “Wouldn’t that be something? Squeezing milk from your own tits?” You place your mouth on his pecs and begin suckling like the tip of his cock. Joel tosses his head back, milk spilling from his cheeks as he howls in pleasure. 

“Oh fuck Momma that’s it—keep sucking my fat tits—christ. Fuck—fuckFUCK!” One hand caresses your hair as he whines, “I Love you.”

“I love you too. How are we doing?” You gesture to the funnel.

He tilts it upside down. “All out,” he says with a grimace.

“Good. On your knees.”

You grab his chubby hands and hoist him up, the two of you laughing when he fails after the first attempt.

When he does get to his feet, you cup his face with both hands and kiss him. “You look so fucking sexy, Joel Miller.” 

You brush his fingers under your thigh, between your slit. “Oh—shit—so fuckin’ wet,” he whispers, rubbing your slicked walls with his meaty fingers.

 Pressing your cunt against his crotch, your belly collides with his, creating the perfect friction on your clit. “I want you bigger than me when you knock me up with twins next.”

He grits his teeth and hisses against your lips. The mental image doing a whirlwind on him. You chuck two pillows to the ground for him comfort. With a big thud, he gets to one knee on the plush, then the other, arms flailing forward and hands plastered on the ground to hold his weight. His belly sags so heavily, causing him to groan. the compressed tip is damn near toughing the floorboards even as he holds cow position. 

He stares up back up at you, soft big moo moo eyes getting eager when you grab the funnel and uncap another jug.

 He used to marvel at how much pregnancy changed you. At how he changed you. Your body growing round with child, a child he put inside you, and then your tits swelling up with milk, all because of him.

And now he’s changing physically because of you too. His body filling with fat, engorged from your abundant lactation that you’re feeding him.

He sticks his tongue out without a single word, sucking in the nozzle and guzzling the milk funneling through again. 

He downs this one fast and hard, pushing away with a big sigh. “Christ, I can’t do it. MN’gonna fuckin’ explode.”

You crouch down to see his convex stomach. It’s perfectly rounded and bulging like a moon. 

He shivers when you cup the underside and glide up along, feeling how smoothed over from so much filling him. “Touch it, please touch it baby. Gonna go crazy if ya don’t.”

You watch as his eyes squeeze shut, his swaying back and forth like he’s trying to get his belly to hump his dick, or maybe the other way around. He’s helpless in this position by his own doing. 

“Aww, has my big boy had enough? No more Mommy’s milk?”

He shakes his head painfully. “More,” he croaks. God, his body is screaming no. he’s never felt so ready to turn into an atom bomb, and yet his intoxicated brain knows if he can’t down the last of this gallon, you’ll never give him the full on tap again.

Joel snatches the tunnel again, balancing on one hand briefly as he wraps his tongue around and drinks yet again. Gulp after gulp, the sweet liquid bulges in his esophagus before traveling down to his mighty belly. You kiss his cheek and hold the nozzle to his face, forcing it to stay. “Almost there, Joel, drink it to the last drop, and then you’ll get your reward…” you not so subtly squeeze your breasts together, and that does it for him.

He spits out the nozzle and falls head first to the ground, back arched as much as possible as his tummy smushes into the hardwood. With a howl, his hips jerk forward into his fat middle, suffocating the tip and he starts cumming untouched. “Oh-ah-ahaugghhh-yeah—yeah!” He hums, cheek pressed into the ground and drool and milk spilling from those sinful lips along with a litany of sexy, satisfied noises. 

All the while you praise him with kisses and gentle curls of his hair, telling him how good he’s been for you. The funnel rolls around the floor, having been drained into Joel’s gut just a moment before he gave in. 

And you’d think he was done, out for the count, needing a fat coma nap. Instead, just as you help him up to his bum, Joel snatches your waist. “Get on my lap Momma,” he slurs, licking his lips once again. You half climb, half are hoisted up to his lap, his cream coated cock still raging hard and sitting between the two of you. “Show me what those bouncing titties can do. “He slaps your breasts with little slapslapslaps. The tight grip he has on your hips forces you to begin rolling, your neglected cunt beautifully nudged against his sack with his belly and cock brushing your clit.

“Hop on Pop,” he chuckles. 

Gripping one of his shoulders, you align his cock along your soaked folds and sink down on him, the two of you sighing heavily. His sticky cum coated length needed no prep to enter you, filling your womb to the brim with his Daddy sized dick. “Gonna pump you full now, little Momma. Gonna get ya bred in no time.” Joel dips his head down and latches your tit between his jaws.

You gasp and grip his hair as he begins suckling out your warm breastmilk. It’s like all this time, he wasn’t truly even full. Like he had a separate storage in this lard living planet between you just for your hot fresh pure milk. 

“J-Joel,” you moan, eyes rolling. He’s always been good at sex. Always had a great body, but this…this is different. You can feel all of him pressing against you. Burrying your nub and hitting it so deliciously from the outside as he pummels you from the inside. You fee like a little doll, being used like a flashlight up and down along his thick cock

“That’s it, Mommy, ride me. Ride my fat cock. Ride it till ya swollen here—“ he pokes at your stomach “—as big as mine, like ya said.” You grin, biting your teeth. “B-bigger.”

He smiles. “Bigger.” His beefy hands wrap around your back and pull you as close to him as you can physically manage. “Let Daddy do all the work on that one. Just gotta take my cream, at’s all. I drink yours—n’ you take mine.”

“Mmfff--fuck—fuckyes Daddy fill me up—fill me with your cream! Ah! oh shit I’m cumming! Make me a Mommy again!”

You spasm, convulsing around Joel’s base just as he stills and ruts his second load inside you, grunting into your tits like a pained beast. You feel each pulse overwhelming your walls, yet having nowhere else to go but inside. The man has never cum so much in a second orgasm in his life, and you start to wonder if any of this is your own milk having traveled to his balls and deposited safely inside you again.

As the two of you come down, breathing in and holding one another tightly, Joel pecks at your jaw with feather kisses.

“You know…I won’t be lactating forever.” You twirl some of his curly brown hair out of his sweaty temple. “It’s going to end eventually.”

He only shrugs. 

Gasping as his dick twitches to life inside you once again, he presses his lips to yours and begins shallowly thrusting again. “Guess I’m just gonna have to keep knocking you up.”

- - - -

Notes: I have plans for more Fat!Joel content in a variety of flavors...not just subby and breastfeeding. Will be different characters and have other independent requests so stay tuned!

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[obsidianbaby]

I DONT SHARE

this is pt 2 of " FUCKING BROWNIES"

read pt 1 here :

synopsis - you've been best friends with the triplets for a few years and you're currently visiting them in LA. After your hot sneaky hook up with chris, matt cannot keep his attention off of you.

warnings/notes - angst, matt! x reader, fingering, spit kink, voyeurism, choking, slight praise kink, themes of possession

a/n - this is the sequel of my first ever sturniolo smut so i hope y'all like where the plot is goingggggg (she thick) okok enjoy mwah

_____________________________________________

It's after 11pm and the brownies finished baking an hour ago, the boys and I are currently enjoying them on the couch while watching a movie.

I sit squished between chris and nick, leaning on nick's shoulder with his arm around me and my legs extended across chris's lap, his hands mindlessly rubbing my legs. Matt sits uninterested and incredibly quiet on the furthest part of the couch from us, face buried in his phone.

"Matt you good?" Chris asks looking over at Matt from his spot on the couch beside me. Matt ignores him and continues to stare blankly at his phone.

"Mattttttt are you going to try our brownies or what??" I ask staring at him wondering what's crawled up his ass in the past hour.

At the sound of my voice he looks up from his phone at me for a mere second before returning his attention to his phone.

"If you don't have some now these fuckers are going to end up finishing the pan" Nick says looking towards Matt. Matt heavy sighs and puts his phone down before turning to us.

"Nah im good, not hungry." he says cooly.

"what? bro I thought you wanted some brownies..?" Chris asks smirking in confusion looking from Matt to me, I shrug my shoulders at him.

"yeah not anymore, lost my appetite for brownies. I think i'll just go clean up the kitchen." He replies, standing up and heading for the kitchen.

"sounds good to me" Nick adds jokingly.

"wait let me help you" I say, sitting up getting ready to stand up. Chris tightens his grip on my legs and looks at me intensely. I bite my lip at the feeling of his grip on my legs and I raise my eyebrow at him. He just shakes his head and pouts at me, not wanting me to leave my place from the couch. I just roll my eyes at him and continue to get off the couch following Matt into the kitchen.

"what can I do to help?" I ask matt politely while standing beside him at the counter.

without looking over at me he scoffs, "you're grown do you really need me to assign you a task?"

baffled but not wanting to poke the bear I step away from him and start to gather the utensils and mixing bowls to wash in the sink.

I start to mindlessly hum while washing the dishes in the sink and matt walks up closely behind me softly saying, "I was going to wash the dishes" i feel his hot breath on my neck.

"don't worry i've got it how about you just go watch the movie matt, i know you're not feeling well" I say keeping my body turned towards the sink.

"excuse me? What makes you think i'm not feeling good?" he asks with an tone.

"probably because of your sudden attitude?" I say bluntly as i continue to focus on washing the dishes. He lets out an unamused chuckle before wrapping his arms around my waist, hugging me from behind.

"I'm fine, really" he says, nuzzling his head into my neck.

"are you sure? you can tell me what's bugging you ya know?" i say lowly so only he can hear. He shifts behind me and sighs, his arms lazily hugging me still.

"i know but i'm fine" he whispers against my neck, shivers erupt down my spine.

"okayyyy whatever you say matthew" I say as i finish putting the clean dishes on the drying rack. I turn around in his arms and let him hug me tightly, putting my face in his chest.

"hey are you coming back to watch the movie?" chris calls suddenly from the couch and i swing my head towards him, his jaw clenching.

"uh yeah I just want to wipe down the table and counters first." Chris gives me a thumbs up and goes back to watching the movie. "Matt are you gonna join us after i finish cleaning?" I ask breaking apart the hug to look up at him. He smiles at me and nods.

"only if i can have my turn with you as my blanket." He says smiling cheekily. I laugh and shake my head at him.

"of course matt I know how to share" I say with a wink before turning away from his hold to wipe down the counters and table. Matt just leans against the sink and watches me contently. "hey i thought you came in here to clean?" I say teasingly to matt, my back to him as i bend over the table to reach the other side with the cloth. I can feel matts stare on me and I turn around the face him, his eyes already locked on mine and he blushes.

"yeah but you gave me the day off so" he says crossing his arms across his chest smiling at me.

"whatever. I'm done now anyways lets go" I say, tugging his arms and he gives up his hold and allows me to tug him to the couch with me.

He takes a seat beside chris leaving an obvious spot in the middle of him and chris for me to take. I sit in between them deciding to keep to myself.

Chris immediately leans his head on my shoulder and i can feel matt staring at us. I look over to matt and he smiles before grabbing my legs and pulling me closer to him so my legs lay horizontally across his lap, my ass half on his lap. Chris shifts his position and pulls my shoulders gently so that my head rests on his lap and he begins to run his fingers through my hair.

"well you three look incredibly comfortable, I'm gonna head up to bed now" Nick says standing up before turning to me, "and thanks for cleaning up the kitchen" he smiles, continuing to the stairs up to his room.

"hey i helped" matt adds jokingly.

"wrong" I say looking at matt.

"you did not" nick adds before disappearing up the stairs.

"not my fault you didnt let me" matt says raising his hands up and i roll my eyes.

While chris continues to run his fingers through my hair, matt places his hands firmly on my thighs, his fingers resting in between. Matt starts to softly trace his fingers along the inside of my thighs and my core begins to tighten.

I look at Matt with a questioning look and he just winks cheekily at me continuing to rub my inner thighs, causing my panties to grow wetter by the second. My breathing starts to pick up and its as if chris can hear my raising heartbeat, he looks down at me from where my head rests on his lap.

"you good?" he asks quietly, gently caressing my cheek with his hand to tilt my face towards him. I nod not being able to get any words out worried that a moan might escape my lips instead. He smirks at me and turns his attention back to the tv.

When i notice chris's attention is no longer on me apart from his hands buried in my hair, i look back at matt, his gaze still on me, making my cheeks flush.

I look down at his hands that keep inching further and further up my inner thighs towards my heat thats now pulsing so hard he can probably feel it.

"hey chris, pass me that blanket will ya?" matt nods to the blanket beside chris. Chris reaches beside him and hands the blanket over my head to matt. Matt lays the blanket over our laps now shielding his hands that are currently tracing lines around my bikini line.

I bite my lip holding matt's intense gaze and he smirks at me before he finally breaks the stare and turns to watch the movie. He then leans over to the coffee table, grabbing the remote and turns the tv up to a ridiculous volume.

Chris looks over at matt, "dude are you deaf?"

"i just turned it up a little relax" matt says while he watches the movie intently and i watch him. He then looks over at me sensing my stare, "be a good girl and watch the movie" he says quietly, before turning back to the tv. I gulp hard and do what he says, licking my lips with anticipation.

Matt's hands suddenly graze under my shorts and start playing with the hem of my panties causing my to involuntarily buck my hips. Chris snaps his attention to me and then to matt and then back to me with a questioning look.

"sorry im fine" I say instantly looking over at Matt who has a cocky smile on his face as he continues to watch the tv.

"hey i just gotta move you for a sec," chris suddenly says, gently moving my jaw to look up at him, "i'll be right back okay?"

"mhm" i respond as chris smoothly scooches his lap from under my head and walks away down the hall towards the bathroom.

Matt whips his head towards where chris just walked off to and then down at me and he smiles, "how long do you think he'll be?" his eyes looking black with hunger.

"why? you tryna get handsy with me while chris is in the bathroom down the hall?" i say jokingly trying to act like what matt is doing to me isn't driving me fucking insane.

"hmm i dunno..." he says as he lets his fingers slip under my panties and he quickly runs his fingers through my slick once.

"matt!" i gasp, "what the fuck are you doing...?" i say trying hard to hide the smirk growing on my face.

"what? you said you know how to share, dont you? and I want to take my turn now." he says daringly as he intently holds my stare while he slips his fingers through my slick once more. "do you not want to share with me anymore?" he asks, bringing his thumb to my sensitive bud and pressing down firmly on it, my hips bucking up against his touch.

"fuck matt please" i say my head rolling back and my legs relaxing into his touch.

"i'll take that as a yes" he says as he moves his fingers through my slick a few times before he plunges two into my heat as deep as he can. my hips jolt and i moan his name.

"atta girl" he says as he continues to pump his fingers hard against my spongy walls, curling them up perfectly to hit my sweet spot with every thrust.

the knot in my stomach building as he works his finger inside of me and he brings his other hand to grab my throat grabbing firmly. I gasp at his movement and look up at his blown out pupils.

"matt" i whine through suppressed breaths and he smiles devilishly at me, his thumb pressing firm tight circles on my clit.

"i know you may enjoy sharing, but i don't" he says biting his lip as he watches my face scrunch with pleasure. I look at him with a raised brow.

"wha what do you mean?' i mumble

"i mean you're mine and i dont share." he says nodding towards the bathroom where chris walked off to minutes ago. I begin to open my lips again but my word are taken from me as he adds a third finger inside me, slamming them against my sweet spot and i moan out his name.

"open your mouth" he says, his hand still firmly gripping my neck and i part my lips staring up at him. He spits in my mouth, "swallow" he says cooly and i do. "good girl".

"matt m'gonna cum" i mumble, my head getting dizzy from his grip around my neck and the knot in my stomach hanging on the edge.

"uh uh uh not until you agree with me" his hungry eyes looking intensely into mine, his three digits slowing their pace inside of me causing me to clench my thighs around his hand.

"agree with what matt?" i say through labored breaths.

"that you're mine" he says, leaning his face towards mine as he moves his hand from around my neck to my jaw and grips it firmly, lifting my face to meet his. I bite my lip at his words, knowing what he is implying at.

"matt please" i beg, pain starting to take over from my high not being reached.

"say it"

"im yours matt only yours"

and with my words he plunges his fingers knuckle deep into my heat as he aggressively pushes his lips onto mine. The kiss is hungry and needy and he forces my lips apart with his tongue to explore.

my walls clench around his fingers and i moan into his mouth, and he continues to twirl his tongue around mine, fingers deep inside of me as i ride out my high.

once the waves of my arousal stop pouring out around his fingers he removes them and sticks them into his mouth, watching me intently as he sucks and licks my juices from them.

"you taste better than i thought you would." he says casually and i laugh at his words trying to process my second orgasm of the night.

"what the fuck matt" i say slumping into the couch, bringing my hands up to my neck where i can still feel the pressure of where his grip was.

chris comes strolling into the kitchen from the hallway and matt grins at me, his fingers still in his mouth.

"hey matt did you finally get a taste?" he asks as he makes his way to the couch sitting next to where my head rests.

we both look over to him in shock at his words.

"the brownies..?" he asks curiously, pointing to the tray still sitting on the coffee table.

"oh yeah i got a taste." matt responds, removing his fingers from his mouth.

"and..? what do ya think?" chris asks.

"fucking perfect." matt states, smiling at me.

_____________________________________________

CHRIS POV

The way matt's not even hiding it, rubbing her thighs right beside me for me to see.. I can feel her breathing heavily in my lap, watching her licking her lips and staring at him.

As soon as matt asked for the blanket i knew he was going to try something and fuck me i couldn't stay to watch it, I had to leave the room, seeing her body react like that from matt's touch and not mine?

Once I got to the bathroom i splashed some cold water on my face and sat down on the floor.

Minutes pass and I could hear her fucking gasping and moaning his name. Which I hate to admit got me hard. so hard that it ached, not having jerked off my previous boner from earlier tonight with her in the kitchen.

I sit, leaned against the door and close my eyes, listening to her moans and imagining im the one thats pulling them from her instead as i slip my hand around my hard cock and pump until i finish with her.

___________________________________________

a/n - i had the roughest plan for this when i first started cooking so the ending is just as surprising to us both. Hope yall enjoyed ittttttttttt. part 3 anyone? <3

dts - @adg-h16 @stasiesturn @thatssocancelled @aurizp @maryx2xx @sturnthepot @nickgetsmewetter @schlutt4matty @fratbrochrisgf @lovingregulusblack @annasturn0lo @thepubeburgler @6ix9inewiturmom @ribread03 @gabrielle-brun1 @trevor-777 @mattslolita @mattsgf68903 @aliceloveschris @starsturns234

[xxsabitoxx]

I still do it better

Obanai x Mitsuri x Fem! Reader

Sequel to I can do it better

Warnings: rough sex, face sitting, cunnilingus, come eating, unprotected sex, creampies, marking and bruising, degrading, praising, overstimulation, consensual restraining, spitting, biting, breast play, scissoring, group sex, threesome, idk man a lot is going on I’m not gonna lie lmfao

Note: here we go! The long awaited part two. Hope y’all enjoy & I apologize if it doesn’t meet your expectations… this is why I kinda hate sequels I can’t lie 😭

The paragraph lengths vary in size because I had to break them up. They were initially massive paragraphs and I know damn well nobody is gonna want to read all that… so I had to break them up a bit half-hazardously

Word count: 10.5k

Your fingers trailed along your thighs, the small crescent shape bruises were nearly faded. For some reason, that made you feel a bit sad. It had been nearly a week since your encounter with the love and serpent pillars and nearly everyday that had passed since had felt as if you weren’t even there. You pulled yourself from your daze, turning to test the warmth of the bath water that you had been waiting on. You set your robes to the side, letting your body sink into the water and relishing in it as if it were a warm embrace.

You flinched at your own thoughts, you had been feeling utterly touch starved. You were silently longing for their warm bed once again, the soft touch of Mitsuri at your back, the warm breath of Obanai fanning across your shoulder. What got you the most is that you were missing him just as much as you were missing her. Not a day had gone by that your mind didn’t linger on that night. You had initially been so scared of it, the rough treatment Obanai bestowed upon you, the way Mitsuri seemingly cheered him on.

Part of you was mortified that you had enjoyed it so thoroughly. Now, you were aching to be treated like that for a second time. You craved the taste of her arousal, the feeling of his hands on you. They had unintentionally ruined you. You sunk lower in the water, not stopping until it reached just below your nose. You couldn’t believe yourself, betrayed by your own thoughts several times while trying to go about your day to day life. You had no concept of how to bring it up again, the physical reminders left on your skin wouldn’t let you forget.

Yet, part of you was aching for more, not quite satisfied with the marks that remained. You wanted more, from both parties. But above all else, you wanted to prove your worth. You wanted to convince Obanai you were worthy of his cum. Your legs kicked in the water, eyes squeezing shut as you came to the conclusion that you’d simply be plagued with these thoughts until you did something about them. Laying alone in your bed after had been the worst part. Having to drag yourself from their warm home and back to your empty quiet one felt like a death sentence.

“You really don’t have to leave just yet.” Mitsuri was worrying around you, fixing your hair neatly after you refused the offer of a bath. You wanted to wash your skin yourself, not create some fantasy that you’d stay here forever. “I’m fine, really Mitsuri. I need to get back in case I’m summoned for a mission.” You waved her off, thanking her quietly after she finished your hair. “Are you sure? You really don’t want to stay longer? We wouldn’t mind.” Obanai didn’t interject, instead he remained quiet as he began wrapping his face once more on the far side of the room.

He had been awfully quiet since waking up, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence like you were used to. “I appreciate the offer. I truly do. But I have to get back to my own home.” Your hands fidgeted in your lap, moving to stand with a slight limp. “You can’t even walk properly, please stay. Let us help you… it’s the least we could do.” You felt warmth spread across your face, especially since you caught Obanai chuckling softly. “Mitsuri please, if she wants to leave, let her leave.” You didn’t want to leave, but you knew if you stayed you’d fall in deep and never recover.

Little did you know the damage was already done. “Alright… but if you need us, you know where to find us.” Mitsuri’s hands fell to her kimono, fidgeting because she couldn’t quite figure out how to say goodbye. It was a one time thing, there were no strings attached from it. At least that’s what you told yourself as you bowed to them, stepping off their front porch and heading back the way you had come. It was a one time thing, nothing more. It repeated like a mantra as you limped back, face holding on to the embarrassed warmth as you tried your damn hardest to not look like you had just got your ass handed to you. “Damn him.”

You pushed yourself up, the bath water sloshing dangerously close to the edge. “What the hell am I going to do?” you whined to no one, your voice bouncing off the walls and right back at you. It felt like you were being taunted at this point, like the universe was waiting to see how long you would take to crack. You had to wonder what would happen if you just gave in. What if you just dragged your sorry ass back to their estate and begged for a second round… a rematch.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” you rubbed your face, trying your hardest to ignore the slow throb between your legs as your mind betrayed you yet again. “You’re a great stress reliever.” Obanai’s words lingered, probably a lot longer than they should have. The various things he had said to you felt as if they had been engraved on your skin. “Stay still and he’ll stop.” Mitsuri’s voice echoed softly, the gentle scrape of her nails on the back of your skull. Every time you close your eyes, you see them. “This has to be some sort of curse. Maybe Shinobu has something she could give me that will make me forget.”

Forget about the ache of wanting to people who would never want you back. You got out of the bath, not quite able to enjoy it the way you hoped you would be able to. The water ran off of you in rivets, the steam of the room was warm enough to not draw a shiver from you as you reached for a towel to dry yourself off. It was as if your body moved on autopilot, dressing yourself in one of your finer kimonos. It was a risky move, but you couldn’t keep going on like this without at least trying. Your fingers trailed along your face, head tilting left and right to make sure your hair looked alright.

You reached for your perfumed oils, dabbing a bit on your pulse points. You hesitated for a moment, wondering if putting on a bit of makeup would be too much. In the end you decided against it, you’d head out as you were. The worst that could happen would be rejection, then maybe you’d be able to move on. “It’s nearly 10pm, showing up at their home at this time will make me seem insane.” Yet, you were still stepping off your porch and into the moonlight, a clear destination in your mind. You sighed, knowing there was also the chance that neither of them may be home.

It was night after all, they could be patrolling their sectors and not be home till morning. Then, you’d feel like an absolute desperate idiot for doing this. Yet, the off chance that things would fall perfectly into place started propelling you further. The walk itself wasn’t a long one, you had come to find that you only lived about fifteen minutes from the two pillar’s estate. Thinking back on it, you only found your way home because of Mitsuri’s crow guiding you. How it knew your coordinates you’d never know, especially since Mitsuri had never been to your home. That, however, was a question for another day.

You steadied your breathing as the trees grew few and far between, eventually leading to the open space that their shared estate resides on. The estate itself was large, not as large as the butterfly estate but still quite spacious. A simple stone pathway leads up to the large roofed porch and double doors that would grant you entrance. You had to admire the amount of work Mitsuri put into her home, various wild flowers were planted along the pathway. You kept moving, slightly motivated by the various windows that held the light of glowing candles. It seems the two pillars were home, honestly it sent a chill of anxiety down your spine. Things had been so much easier when Mitsuri was the one initiating everything.

You stopped just before the small set of stairs leading up to the door, the quiet rustle of fabric making the hair on the back of your neck prickle. “Are you trying to scare the shit out of me, Obanai?” Your jaw clenched after speaking, a lame attempt at acting tough when in truth he’d scared the shit out of you. “Good to know you have some sort of spatial awareness.” He emerged from the shadows a moment later, still dressed in his corps uniform with Kaburamaru still sitting around his neck. You bit your tongue, scrunching your nose in disdain as he gave you a once over. “I noticed you as I was walking home, took a shortcut to beat you here.'' He looked almost smug about it, arms moving to cross his chest as he waited for you to say something.

“Oh so you’ve just finished patrolling for the night? I guess you’ll be of no use for what I came here for… Mitsuri’s home though, right?” You moved up the stairs, freezing when his arm shot out to prevent you from making it to the door. “That’s a sharp tongue for someone who’s trying to enter my house.” you glanced down at his arm before looking back up at him. “It’s the truth… I did come here for your girlfriend after all… not you.” You couldn’t see it, but you could just tell there was a shit eating grin creeping up his face. “You’re such a fucking liar.” you forced your expression to remain neutral, you knew you were a liar but you had hoped he wouldn’t see straight through you. “Don’t flatter yourself.” Kaburamaru hissed softly, reaching out to look at you better.

“Even Kaburamaru knows you’re full of shit.” Obanai’s hand moved to mockingly allow you entrance, pointing to the front door. “But if you’re so determined, go ahead and enter. I’m sure Mitsuri will be thrilled to see you.” There was a catch, you could tell by the glint in his eyes. There was something he knew that you didn’t. You stepped tentatively, pausing as your hand reached for the knob. “Go on, since you’re so desperate for her, there should be nothing holding you back.” The bite in his tone, everything you did that so much as pissed him off would only come around to bite you later.

That’s what it was, you realized quickly as you pushed on the knob and entered. He was observing your every move to use against you. “Obanai? That you?” Mitsuri’s voice echoed through the entryway, “Yeah, it’s me. We have a guest.” The rustle of cloth was followed by footsteps. “A guest?” Pink hair rounded the corner a moment later. Mitsuri’s hair was down, holding a faint wave from her three braids she typically wore. She was dressed in her sleepwear, the front of her kimono dangerously low and exposing her breasts. “I was just getting ready for bed. I didn't think we–Y/N!?”she stopped rubbing her eyes, blinking in surprise as she looked you over.

“Y-yeah, it’s me. If you were getting ready for bed then I can go…” You stopped mid-step backwards as Obanai’s hand grabbed your upper arm. “No! No it’s no trouble at all…I uhm…I assume…” Mitsuri’s face was steadily turning pink, apparently it was too obvious to everyone as to why you had hauled yourself over here. “She’s here for the reason you think, lovely. Seems she can’t stop thinking about you… though she claims to want nothing to do with me.” Obanai’s grip tightened, duo-tone eyes watching Mitsuri’s shift between the two of you.

“O-oh I see… well…” You could see the slight disappointment in her gaze, you wanted to turn and slap the serpent pillar for making you seem like a complete asshole. “That’s not true!” you swallowed your pride, even though it was literally the last thing you wanted to do. There was no point and no fun in any of this if Mitsuri was uncomfortable by the idea of you wanting nothing to do with her boyfriend. “Oh, It’s not?” Obanai jeered, he needed to hear you say it. “You’re such a dick, though I’m sure you know that…'' you glanced at Mitsuri, not able to hold Obanai’s gaze as you spoke.

“I-I came here because I can’t stop thinking about either of you. If you’re willing…I’d like to do it all again.” Heat flooded your body from head to toe, primarily in your ears. Neither spoke, for a moment you had to question if you’d crossed a line. “You would? Really?” Mitsuri’s eyes seemed to regain their sparkle, hands clasping excitedly in front of her. “Y-yes… if you’d have me… both of you.” Obanai should have known you’d turn into nothing more than a timid kitten when in Mitsuri’s presence. He couldn’t necessarily say he blamed you for it. As kind as she was, she was someone you didn’t want to upset or disappoint.

“Of course we’ll have you. Come along, let’s go upstairs, we can discuss more there.” Mitsuri’s hand reached for your own, Obanai’s grip letting you go as she dragged you towards the stairs. He stayed behind for a moment, watching Mitsuri practically hauled you up the stairs in her own haste. He had expected you to return a lot quicker than you did, for a moment he almost found himself impressed by your will to resist your desires. “Obanai?” Mitsuri’s voice pulled him from his daze, “Coming, I was just taking off my shoes.” his sandals were kicked off a moment later, Kaburamaru hissing softly. “Yes, I know. I’ll give you your dinner in a moment.”

“He’ll take a moment, he has to put Kaburamaru to bed. For now, make yourself comfortable.” The sleepiness the love pillar had felt was long since forgotten, replaced by a bubbling heat and shiver of excitement. There had been so many things she wanted to do, so many things that she had thought about doing since you had left that day. She had even considered going over to your estate only a few days after the fact to ask you if you’d like to do it all again. Obanai had convinced her otherwise, saying it was better if you came to them since they were the ones to go to you first.

He was certain you’d come back, though Mitsuri couldn’t really figure out why he was so sure of it. “You look beautiful.” Mitsuri smiled as she looked you over. “Oh-thank you… you look beautiful as well.” You hoped it looked effortless, as effortless as Mitsuri looked. Though something about the smile on her face told you she knew you had put a little bit of time into your appearance before coming over. “You’re so cute, y/n-chan. You’re trying so hard to not seem flustered but I see right through you.” She sauntered across the room, not stopping until she stood right before you. One motion and you knew she wanted you to open your legs, allowing her closer.

“You’re desperate aren’t you? It’s okay to admit it…” she reached to hold your face, holding you so you couldn’t look away from her. “… I am too.” “Y-you are?” You weren’t sure why you felt so vulnerable, part of you felt like you were a bother for coming over. “Of course I am, I’ve been thinking about you since you left last week. I wanted to go after you the moment you disappeared from our sight. I even had my crow follow you to make sure you got home alright.” Her thumb was brushing your cheek bone, green eyes scanning every inch of your features. “That so?” Your voice was just above a whisper, hoarse with desire. Her gentle reassurance quickly had your doubt melting away, replacing it with the desire that had driven you to this point.

“Of course it’s so.” Obanai was standing in the doorway, his haori discarded somewhere out of your sight. “Mitsuri…and I… were concerned about you. You left quickly after all, you never gave us a chance to discuss things with you.” “Discuss things…?” You glanced between the two pillars. “Yes, a lot happened, you know. And you were scurrying out the door… I should say limping out the door…” Mitsuri shot him a look, one that had him throwing his hands in his defense. “…anyways. I didn’t take it easy on you, then you were quick to leave after. Would have been nice if you stuck around to at least assure me you enjoyed yourself. I may treat you like a dick but I’m not heartless.” He stepped into the room, making his way to the vanity table Mitsuri had set up. “So, before we do anything… Did you enjoy yourself last time? Anything you’d like to do differently this time?” He began to unwrap his bandages, Mitsuri’s hands gently guided you back to looking at her. “Well, y/n? Did you enjoy yourself?”

“I… of course I did. I mean I was a bit overwhelmed at first but… I enjoyed it a lot. I… wouldn't have you do anything differently… honestly.” Your eyes squeezed shut as you uttered the last words, finally admitting to yourself more so than them that you did, in fact, enjoy the rough treatment. “That’s good to hear, though it would have been better to hear it a week ago.” Mitsuri let go of your cheek as Obanai spoke, stepping away from you with a small smile. Your head turned to look at the serpent pillar, face growing warm as you observed his unmasked face. Even in the dull glow of the candle light his scars stuck out. His eyebrows raised subtly, as if he was surprised to see you staring. You looked away quickly, chewing on your inner cheek in a failed attempt at not being embarrassed for getting caught.

“Well, if we’re all on the same page… why don’t we give it another go?” Mitsuri was shouldering off her kimono as she spoke, an innocent smile plastered to her face as her breasts spilled out of the top. There was something almost comical about the way both you and Obanai’s eyes zeroed in on her breasts, as if she were dangling candy in front of a baby. “Y-yeah… another go sounds good…” your skin prickled with desire, hands coming down to pull at the belt that kept your kimono in place. You stood a little quicker than you intended, the garment falling apart half hazardously as you tried to shoulder it off. “Eager… how cute.” Mitsuri was in front of you a moment later, helping you tug the garments off as Obanai observed quietly as he did before.

He loved to let Mitsuri take the lead, obediently waiting for her green light to do as he pleased. He didn’t mind it in the slightest, especially not when he was watching two women undress each other. His arms came to cross over his chest again, falling to lean back against the wall. You took the opportunity to close the distance, crashing your lips to Mitsuri’s and swallowing the noises of surprise she made. Your hands found her breasts easily, kneading the soft flesh for a moment before you moved closer, pressing your chest to hers. The noises of approval, her hands on your bare waist as your kimono fell in a heap on the floor, every motion causing your confidence to soar. “…bed.” It was breathless, saliva connecting your lips even after separating.

You let her go, dropping back to your spot on the edge of the bed. “Perfect… Now lay back.” You did as she asked, propping yourself on your elbows to watch her bend down to toss both of your kimonos to the side. “Obanai… you’ll do as I ask, right?” Your gaze shifted between the two, the smile on his face was enough to make your heart skip. “Of course.” It was almost effortless, as if the two had discussed things prior to your arrival. “Good.” Mitsuri was crawling onto the bed a moment later, arms and legs caging you in as she smiled down at you. “Lay back fully, no need for you to be up at all.” Again, you did as she instructed, completely enthralled by her and her closeness. “You did such a good job last time, eating me out and such…” you swallowed, eyes widening as your hazy brain began connecting the dots.

“I want you to do it again… just a different position this time. If that’s alright?” You blinked a few times, “you’re asking if it's alright to sit on my face?” You needed to hear her say it, not just imply it. Mitsuri’s face warmed considerably at your bluntness. “That’s exactly what I’m asking.” Yet she didn’t miss a beat. “Then, yes. Absolutely it’s alright.” There was no point in hiding your eagerness, not when your entire body seemed to throb with the desire to please her… and to please yourself. “Good girl…” the sudden praise sent a shiver through you, hands reaching to find purchase on her thighs as she crawled further up your body. “Real quick before we start… one tap on my thigh signals that you’re doing good when I ask. Two taps means you need to pause… three means you can’t breathe and need me to get up. Simple enough?”

This was a new side of Mitsuri, a side that took charge when Obanai wasn’t in the mix just yet. You loved it. “Yes, that’s simple enough.” You swore you heard Obanai chuckle at your obedience. Then again you couldn’t be annoyed when Mitsuri’s cunt was just inches from your face. “Alright then…” you swallowed again, watching as Mitsuri pushed herself up one last time. Plush thighs caged your head, Mitsuri’s cunt was hovering just above your face now. “Sit… please.” You begged softly, all too eager to feel her soft thighs squeeze your head. Mitsuri chuckled softly but lowered herself down just as you asked. Your tongue darted out immediately, licking fat stripes up her folds until they were slick with your saliva. Your nails dug into the soft plush of her thighs, dragging her down further as you lapped at her entrance.

The angle itself caused your nose to bump her clit every few passes, but created the perfect position to edge her for a while. Soft noises escaped the woman above you, her hips rocking ever so slight against your eager tongue. You drew the first moan from her when you tilted just enough to graze her clit with your tongue. Her warmth was intoxicating, making you feel warm all over as you licked and sucked at her cunt. Tentatively you prodded her entrance, collecting the taste of her arousal on your tongue as her head fell back. “You’re so good at this…” the feeling of her hands threading through your hair sent you into overdrive, tongue moving even quicker against her dripping cunt. The longer you worked on her the more prominent the throb between your own legs became.

“Spread your legs for me, please…” she moaned softly, hand reaching back to tap the flesh of your thigh. You spread them effortlessly and without hesitation, shivering as your cunt was revealed to the cooler air of the room. You were wet, embarrassingly so at this point. After only a few minutes of eating her out, you were dripping and needy. You weren’t quite sure what she was planning, considering she went back to gripping your hair and moaning praises as you worked. You nearly forgot about it after a minute, especially as Mitsuri’s first orgasm hit her at full speed. “O-oh fuck…” she yelped, hips jerking agaisnt your unrelenting tongue until she pulled herself up just a bit. You could catch your breath for a moment before tugging her desperately back down… she wasn’t going to deny you after all.

You tilted your chin upwards again, angling yourself to lick and suck at her already sensitive clit. Her whimpers and moans were all you could hear over the muffling of her thighs caging your head. When you felt something wet and warm on your own cunt, it came as a complete surprise. The noise that left you proved it, Mitsuri’s laughter following. “Don’t worry… it’s just Obanai.” You figured that much but the realization that his tongue was on your pussy was enough to freeze you up for a moment, mind drawing a blank. You tapped twice, shock causing you to need a moment so you could gasp for air. Mitsuri lifted herself, smiling down at you as Obanai’s hands gripped the flesh of your thighs, keeping them spread. “Don’t tell me you can’t handle this…” Obanai’s mouth was hovering your cunt, eyes trailing over your breasts and further up to taken in Mitsuri’s ass and back. “You caught her by surprise.”

Mitsuri spoke for you, rather likely the way your pupils seemed to dilate in response. Obanai made a noise of disinterest before lowering again, tongue slipping between your folds to prod at your clit. A shaky gasp left you, body feeling so warm you swore you’d melt into a puddle. You dragged Mitsuri back down, needing to feel her weight back on you. It was almost comforting in an odd way. You lapped at her cunt the best you could, a wet mess of your saliva and her arousal covered your chin. All the while Obanai was teasing your entrance with one finger, mouth suctioned to your aching clit. He was relentless, just like last time, not giving you any moment to adjust by starting off rough and fast.

You could already feel the familiar tension building, everything was too much, making you too sensitive. The moment he curled that one finger your thighs shook, but it wasn’t enough to push you over the edge. He knew that, which is why he kept doing it. The goosebumps that prickled your skin were a dead giveaway to him. So he didn’t adjust whatsoever, instead he dangled your orgasm right out of your reach. Every thrust of his finger had arousal dripping out of you, wetter and wetter as his saliva covered your cunt. You tried your best to keep up, the awkward angle making it a bit hard to do exactly what you wanted.

So, you tapped her thigh twice. “You okay?” She cooed softly, chest heaving as she had been just seconds away from coming a second time. “Yeah but…” you moaned as Obanai added a second finger, laughing softly at your reaction. “Can you turn around? Sit on my face the other direction.” It would be much easier for you if she could do that. “Oh? Sure…” Mitsuri moved herself around, locking eyes with Obanai as she did. He pulled away from your cunt, mouth and chin shining with your arousal. “Hey pretty.” You sucked in a breath, not used to the tender voice he was using with her.

Mitsuri giggled softly, moving backwards until she was hovering over your face again. Obanai watched, two fingers still knuckle deep and scissoring you open. You dragged Mitsuri down again, lips suction to her clit and sucking. “O-oh!” Mitsuri nearly fell forward, the new intensity bringing her right back to the brink of her second orgasm. “O-Obanai… can I?” His eyes shifted from her face to where your mouth was. After a second he connected the dots. “By all means, pretty.” You had no idea what was going on above and below you, too focused on getting her to cum a second time. Your chest seemed to freeze, breath sucked straight from your lungs as you felt Mitsuri’s body press to yours.

A second later you felt what was undeniably her tongue, not Obanai’s. The realization along with the sensation was almost dizzying. Obanai’s fingers resumed their normal pace as he watched Mitsuri eat you out instead of him. This time there was no edging, no teasing, Mitsuri was determined to bring you over the edge the same time you bought her over it. Which wouldn’t be hard at all considering how worked up you’d been due to Obanai’s stingy attitude. There was something incredibly lewd about the sight before him, maybe it was the sounds… no it was definitely the sounds… that were getting him the most.

Your pussy was squelching with each thrust of his fingers, walls suctioning to them as if you were trying to hold onto him. There were also the noises you were both making, the moans, the sound of wet tongues sliding along each other’s most sensitive parts… he cursed under his breath. His pants were far too tight, even though he had discarded his uniform top his skin was way too warm. He withdrew his fingers a moment later, placing his hand back on your other thigh to keep you spread. Your arousal smeared across your skin where his fingers gripped you, if you weren’t so occupied you would have complained about his withdrawal.

Obanai, however, had other plans. He watched Mitsuri for a moment longer before ducking his own head back down. The love pillar seemed a bit surprised as his head brushed hers, it only took a moment to understand what he was after. The angle was a bit awkward but he managed to fit his face down where Mitsuri couldn’t reach. While she was busy sucking on your clit, Obanai began fucking you with his tongue. Now your mind was really going hazy, your tongue’s eagerness halting all together as you simply forgot how to breathe. It was almost too much, too much warmth, too much stimulation… way too lewd for you to handle when Mitsuri was sitting snugly on your face.

You ached to see it, letting your imagination run wild with the ideas of what the two pillars looked like as they ate you out. Mitsuri took the initiative to begin rocking her hips against you, needing to reach her own release a second time. Especially since it was so close, she couldn’t let you leave her hanging again. Mitsuri’s gasp sent you spiraling, orgasm washing over you so intensely that you couldn’t help but cry out against her cunt as she came with you. After a few seconds, Mitsuri pushed herself off of you, falling to a heap right beside you on the bed. Obanai pulled away, taking the opportunity to stand and begin undoing the belt of his pants.

He looked over both of you, chests heaving as you tried to calm down. “Don’t tell me you’ve both worn yourselves out.” there was a small bit of relief as the restriction of his uniform fell off of him. He wiped his mouth of your arousal, watching as Mitsuri pushed herself up to look down at you. “S-still with us?” You nodded, hands rubbing your face to get rid of the shine. “Y-yeah… fuck.” Mitsuri smiled, different from her others, lazier. It sent your heart into a frenzy. “Do you wanna lay this way instead? It’ll be easier for what I want to do next.” You did as she asked, moving to lay on the bed regularly rather than sprawling across it.

“W-what exactly do you have in mind.” You had come to the conclusion that the two pillars must have discussed things at some point. Given the fact that Obanai wasn’t raising any questions, instead giving Mitsuri full reigns to do as she pleased for the time being. “Don’t worry, you get to relax for this. I’ll be doing all the work.” You let her move your legs, spreading them wide to reveal your cunt again. You watched her curiously, turning her body to hook one of your legs under her own. It took a moment but you quickly realized what she was doing yet again. “I-oh… I see…”

Your hands found purchase in their bedsheets, a terrible attempt at grounding yourself as Mitsuri slotted her cunt against yours. “I heard that this is supposed to be pretty fun.” She commented offhandedly, rocking her hips against yours. It was warm, slick enough that her hips gilded easily. Obanai studied you particularly closely, watching as you angled yourself better to aid Mitsuri. It was a bit addicting, watching the two of you fumble around. He would gladly let Mitsuri try all of the things she didn’t get to last time, but there was only so long he could wait before needing to put you back in your place.

The throbbing was only getting worse, but Obanai was a man of patience, he could resist his own temptation in order to really take it out on you. He’d never admit it to your face, but he’d been thinking about you just as often as Mitsuri had been. He was eagerly waiting for you to come crawling back, begging for more, just as Mitsuri hoped you would. Though she worded it far nicer than he ever could.

“Do you think she’s alright…” Mitsuri sighed, clinging to Obanai’s arm a moment later as you finally disappeared from their sight. “She’s fine, she’ll likely walk off the limp by the end of the day.” The dissatisfied sigh that left the woman beside him was enough for him to know that’s not what she meant. “You were really rough on her, I’ve never seen you act like that in the bedroom.” Obanai knew that was coming, though for the first time in a long time he didn’t feel like explaining himself on the matter.

“If she didn’t like it, she would have asked me to stop.” Silence fell between the two as they stood in the doorway of their estate. He really wished you hadn’t run off so quickly, there were far too many questions that they wanted answers to. “Should I go visit her tomorrow?” Obanai shook his head, taking a step back and pulling Mitsuri along with him as they entered their estate once more. “Leave her be for now. If she wants to, she’ll come back when she’s ready.” Mitsuri didn’t seem satisfied with that answer but decided to leave it alone.

“Mitsuri, you’ll have us here for hours at this rate.” Obanai was moving onto the bed, you realized that at some point he had discarded all of his clothing. You’d been much too busy with Mitsuri to even notice. “B-but… it’s so…” she huffed, the tingling remnants of an orgasm hovering just out of her reach. “It’s frustrating, that’s what it is.” He was moving behind her, hands trailing up her sides. “See, you’re even breaking a sweat, pretty girl.” His tone was enough to make you look away, for some reason it felt more intimate than the position you and Mitsuri were in.

“I-I’m so… close just give us a minute.” Mitsuri’s hips swiveled against yours quicker, whining softly as Obanai’s hands made it to her breasts. You glanced at her again, one hand reaching forward in hopes of her coming closer. She caught on, breaking away from her boyfriend to crash her lips to yours. For a moment, Obanai was reminded of the fact that this was likely still a competition in your eyes. Essentially being ignored for this long was finally getting on his nerves. He was more than willing to let Mitsuri have her fun, but your sly little tricks to keep Mitsuri away from him… he was at his wits end. “You’re not as subtle as you think.” You knew it was directed at you, that alone had you smiling into her hungry kiss.

Obanai clicked his tongue, moving to pull Mitsuri back towards him. “C’mon now, you’ve had your fun…” he cooed as she gasped, her third orgasm of the night hitting her as she fell into him. You were dazed, Obanai had pulled her away just before you were able to cum. “Remember what we talked about?” You watched them intently, pushing yourself up into a sitting position with your legs still tangled in her’s. “I-I Sorta do.” Obanai chuckled, motioning for Mitsuri to sit up by the pillows. “You’ll remember better in a minute.” He let her go, watching as she untangled herself from you.

With Mitsuri out of the way, you were left on full display for Obanai. Nothing was separating him from you now, especially as Mitsuri settled just behind you on the mattress. “I’d like to think that we’ve been lingering in your mind.” the comment had scrunching your nose, not quite seeing where he was taking this. “Tell me, have you touched yourself thinking about us?” your legs immediately wanted to snap shut as his eyes dragged over your glistening cunt. “I haven’t actually… couldn’t satisfy myself in the way you both did.” It tumbled past your lips despite your body’s natural reaction to shrink away.

Obanai seemed pleased with that answer, hand wrapping around the base of his neglected cock, finally giving it a small bit of attention. “Hmm? That’s just what I wanted to hear.” he chuckled softly, breathier than normal as he stroked himself slowly. “How pathetic you must have looked…felt…nothing but your fingers and it still did nothing for you.” He ruined you, so did Mitsuri. If you had the capacity to think of anything outside of the two of them at this given moment… You’d be wondering how you’d go on with your life after this came to an end. “Probably sounded pathetic too…” you weren’t sure what made you want to feed into his narrative, but the red coating his cheeks as he spoke to you made you want to see him crumble.

“Hmm? Why’s that?” Mitsuri spoke for you, hands coming up to run through your disheveled hair with her eyes locked on Obanai’s fist. “Couldn’t stop whining… it was frustrating you know… kept thinking about the two of you…” Obanai inhaled sharply, torn between wanting to put you in your place and ease your previous frustrations. Though he couldn’t understand why he was even torn in the first place… that was a thought for later. “Oh? I’d that’s the case why don’t you tell me how badly you want this.” He motioned to his cock, head tilting and eager to hear what you would say.

“Haven’t I given you enough? Or would you rather I fuck your girlfriend again to prove it?” Mitsuri suppressed a giggle, shifting herself so your head was in her lap. Leaning her weight on her free hand, she continued to stroke your hair. Obanai huffed out a humorless laugh, “You’re still a fucking pain.” You yelped as he suddenly grabbed your ankles, holding them as tightly. “Mitsuri, remember now?” Obanai’s tone changed as he spoke to her, purposely ignoring your wide eyes. “Yeah, I believe I do.” Her fingers left your hair, trailing down to your arm and stopping when she reached your wrist.

You glanced up at her, watching as she found herself a new position and reached for your other wrist. Now, she sat behind you, head on her lap and legs tucked neatly underneath herself. She brought your wrists together slowly, holding them in a gentle grip that you knew you wouldn’t be able to escape from even if you wanted to. “Good job.” Obanai cooed as he moved closer, shifting his grip from your ankles to your calves as he pushed your legs towards your chest. “Mitsuri wanted me to take it easier on you this time around, she’d like me to be gentle with you…” now, he fully pressed your legs to your chest, forcing you into an awkward position, one you couldn’t move from. “I told her no.”

You swallowed, being completely restrained sent a chill down your spine, the second orgasm you’d been denied of only moments prior was prickling your skin. That familiar throb returned, aching so deeply it was as if you never came in the first place. Obanai angled himself, pressing the dull head of his cock to your weeping entrance, no assistance needed. “You don’t mind, right? You like when I use you like a fuck toy… it’s why you came back, yeah?” You would say or agree to anything in that moment, especially with the way he was shallowly thrusting against you, teasing you by not entering at all.

“C’mon…I won’t do anything till you tell me I’m right…” he pressed his hips forward, the head of his cock splitting you open. You inhaled sharply, hands flexing in Mitsuri’s grasp as you sought for something to ground you. “Y-yes… fuck you… seriously… but yes. Use me… please just fucking—“ Obanai cut you off, pressing his hips forward and bottoming out immediately, watching intently as you squealed and squirmed from the sudden intrusion. Your eyes had squeezed shut, lips trembling as you tried to steady your breathing. You were wet enough that bottoming out within a second hadn’t hurt but the stretch had certainly taken your breath away.

“Ah, Obanai…” Mitsuri’s brows were creased with worry, easily switching both of your wrists to one hand so she could caress your cheek with the other. “She can take it.” He spoke through gritted teeth, heart thumping wildly as your walls spasmed and suctioned to him. Maybe he had neglected himself a little too much during you and Mitsuri’s foreplay. He could feel himself throbbing, threatening already to spill a load deep inside of you. It pissed him off to no end, especially since he had no intentions of cumming in you. He still didn’t think you were quite ready for that yet, he still didn’t think you deserved it. “Can you?” Mitsuri’s question caught both of you off guard, your eyes flying wide to stare up at Mitsuri before moving to stare at Obanai who was hovering over you.

“Oh? You’re picking up on her sharp tongue, aren’t you, pretty girl.” Obanai chuckled, though you could tell it was a bit strained. He hadn’t moved yet, the grip on your legs would likely leave bruises. It thrilled you. Mitsuri sighed, thumb still rubbing along your cheek as she gripped your wrists together. “Just seems like you’re trying not to cum, Obanai.” You didn’t think she had it in her, her voice had taken on a sultry undertone, different from the breathy whines she bestowed upon you. “Watch it…” he gritted out, face bright red as his eyes squeezed shut.

He hadn’t expected Mitsuri to defend you… though he couldn’t say that he didn’t enjoy seeing her do so. “Well? Is her pussy that good?” You swore you were dreaming, that’s what it is, you were dreaming right? You never would have thought Mitsuri was capable of talking in such a way. Obanai seemed a bit hesitant, as if she were testing him by asking. “I’m serious, it’s not like I have the ability to feel it the way you do…” it clicked, she was a bit envious. “I mean I know how good it feels from the outside… but inside… ahh I wish I could know! Tell me please, Obanai.”

For a moment your eyes locked, you and Obanai sharing the same look of disbelief as Mitsuri rambled on. It took him a moment to collect himself, he had gotten passed the point of nearly coming but now he needed to wrap his brain around everything Mitsuri had said. “I…uhm…good… it feels good.” He swallowed, looking up at Mitsuri through his lashes. “Ah that’s not good enough! Describe it to me…” she whined softly, the feeling making your entire body squirm. You needed him to move, if not you were convinced you’d lose your mind being stuffed so full while listening to them speak in such a way about you.

“It’s…shit… it’s warm…” it was a slow start, just as slow as he dragged his hips backwards before pushing in again. The fraction of a movement, barely there but enough to have you gritting your teeth. “C’mon Obanai… you can do better than that…” Mitsuri sighed “you could also do better if you moved.” She had a disappointing tone, as if upset Obanai wasn’t doing as she asked of him. That seemed to be enough to jumpstart his brain…and his hips… as he gasped. Legs still pressed to your chest, he used them for leverage as he pulled nearly all the way out before slamming back into you.

A loud, shaking moan slipped past your lips as he repeated the process, pistoning his hips until you couldn’t see straight. “I’m waiting…” she mewled softly, watching your face contorted in pleasure while Obanai seemed to be biting his tongue. “It’s…” he groaned as your walls suctioned and spasmed around him, your cunt was good, too good even, and it irked him to no end. Admitting that out loud just may kill him, but disappointing Mitsuri seemed like a far worse fate to face. “It’s good…fuck it’s so wet.”

You inhaled sharply, skin prickling with sweat as he spoke. Your pain was fully outweighed by the pleasure, though you were certain your body would be sore after. “It’s tight too, hot and wet and tight…soft…” his hips stuttered as he lost control over his words, taking only a moment before he found his rhythm again. “And it’s still undeserving of my cock.” He gritted out, looking you in the eye now without any embarrassment. “It’s the pussy of a little fucking whore.” The smile was strained, but it sent a shrill of arousal through your entire body, walls fluttering uncontrollably.

“Oh…” she cooed softly, urging him to keep going as your moans turned to cries. Tears burned your eyes, clit throbbing and neglected as he continued to pound into you. You couldn’t even figure out where the tears had come from, but that didn’t matter one bit. Not when Obanai’s pupils seemed to drown out the color of his eyes, completely enthralled by the wet streams running towards your temples. He wanted to see them streak your face, the same way they did when he shoved his cock so far down your throat… “What a little whore… mad that I won’t make you my cum dumpster?”

He chuckled, hips meeting your body particularly hard, dragging an unrestrained yelp from you. “Answer me or I won’t move.” Mitsuri was quietly hypnotized by the scene playing out right before her, cunt throbbing with needy desire. She couldn’t tell who she wanted to be more… Obanai was never this rough with her but she’d give anything to experience you the way he was right now.

“Obanai…” you whined softly, his own name coming from your lips caught him by surprise. “Please…” you didn’t even know what you were asking for, uttering the words in hope that he’d somehow decipher it. “Obanai… kiss her.” Mitsuri instructed softly, the tears leaking from your eyes never slowed. Obanai stopped for a minute, teasing you by only leaving half of his length inside.

“Kiss her? Why should I do that?” He hadn’t kissed you ever, not last time and you assumed he wouldn’t this time. “Because I want you to… I’m sure she wants you to… you want to.” Mitsuri’s face was flushed, pupils dilated and eyes filled with need. Obanai couldn’t say no when she looked like that. You watched him, chest heaving as you sniffled, waiting for him to act. Obanai shifted more of his weight onto you, hands gripping your legs so intensely you were certain there would be bruises for a while. His hips pushed into you again, just as his lips crashed to yours. It was sloppy, a mess of teeth and tongue.

You cried into the kiss, the new closeness allowed you the tiniest bit of friction for your aching clit. Each thrust had his hips slapping into yours, abdomen pressing to your lower half just as tightly. Obanai seemed to lose himself a bit, kissing you so deeply you forgot how to breathe. He parted a moment later, head ducking to bury itself in your neck as he bit down on the sensitive skin. You yelped, body flinching as his teeth threatened to break your skin. “There…” he pulled away, admiring the deep indents of his teeth.

Mitsuri watched as your lips met his again, the bed shaking with the force of his thrusts. She had to wonder how he was holding up so well, considering he was seconds away from falling apart after entering you. Though, maybe that offhand thought had jinxed him. Obanai’s thrusts turned sloppy, he was convinced he could last long enough to pull out of you right when the timing was right. It wouldn’t be that hard, he’s done it before.

Yet you continued to prove him wrong, walls tightening like a vice around his cock, pulling his orgasm straight through him. He gasped into your mouth, pure shock as he dragged his hips out of you, spurting the rest of his release on your cunt. Though, it had been too late, some of his cum had been released deep inside of you. His face was bright red, a look of shock on all three of your faces as his lips parted from yours. The room was quiet save for your ragged breathing, you couldn’t quite believe that he had messed up. Though it drew a cocky smile up your tired face, “I-I thought you weren’t gonna give me your cum… thought I wasn’t good enough…” you glanced up a Mitsuri, her eyes locked on your cum covered cunt.

Obanai couldn’t meet your eyes for a moment, he too was watching his own release slip out of your fluttering hole. “Mitsuri…” his voice was low, the grip on your legs finally loosening enough for you to relax them a bit. “Hmm?” She was hiding a smile, wishing he would have dumped the whole load in. “You’re going to fix this.” He moved away from you entirely, dick still twitching with need despite coming. “Fix it?” She let go of your wrists, watching as you managed to stretch while keeping your legs spread in order to not smear his cum. “Yes, you’re going to clean her up… with your mouth.” Obanai had made enough room for Mitsuri to take his place, hand wrapping around his cock tightly.

“And you’re going to make up for it.” You watched him motion towards his cock before meeting her eyes again. “You caused this, after all.” You blinked, watching Mitsuri move without hesitation, settling below you on her stomach, ass in the air for him. “H-how’d Mitsuri cause this?” You yelped as the pink haired woman dragged her nails over your thighs, hands kneading the squishy flesh before dragging you closer. “Doesn’t matter, but seeing that she’s complying so easily, she knows I’m right.” Mitsuri only chuckled, tongue licking up your thigh. You couldn’t complain, not when you still felt a cocky sense of pride over what happened. 

Instead of cleaning you up like he instructed, Mitsuri used two fingers to collect the rest of his release. You gasped as she plunged both fingers inside, forcing more of his cum in you. Obanai watched with parted lips, hand coming to knead the flesh of Mitsuri’s ass before lining his cock up with her entrance. “She really is rubbing off on you, you’re usually so obedient.” Mitsuri hummed before moving her mouth to hover over your clit, looking at you with a small smile. “I’ve come to see why y/n finds it so fun to mess with you… you’re pretty hot when you’re mad and embarrassed.” Her mouth met your clit a moment later, tongue lapping at it. 

Obanai scoffed, rosy blush on his cheeks as he pressed his hips forward. Even when mad, he still managed to take things easy on her. At least… easier than he did with you. Mitsuri’s stuttering breath had your head tilting back, the orgasm that had been dangled out of your reach that whole time was now in your grasp. Sloppy and uneven thrusts forced Mitsuri’s mouth against your cunt in various amounts of pressure. The tension in your gut building with each struggling suck and lick as Obanai’s hips met her ass with each thrust. “Gonna cum again?” He was seething, yet perfectly able to control himself when it came to Mitsuri. 

“Fuck…yes…” you slurred out, walls twitching around her fingers as she messily plunged them in and out of you. You came crashing down around her, a loud breathless moan escaping your lips as your body arched off the mattress. Mitsuri whined, losing balance as your body moved away from her. Obanai watched both of you in fascination, yet he was not willing to let himself get distracted like he did before. That’s why he blamed Mitsuri, asking him to kiss you had fully thrown him off. He had become so engulfed in you that he didn’t even recognize the warning signs until he was already diving head first off of the cliff. 

His hips moved in a hasty rhythm, the flesh of Mitsuri’s ass rippling each time he moved forward. It was addicting, just as addicting as to it fucked out expression as you tried to sit yourself up. “Don’t run off now…hah…I’m not done yet.” Obanai fixed you in place with a hard glare, your eyes immediately shifting down to the mumbling and drooling mess below you. Mitsuri was on the brink of another orgasm, at this point she had lost count of how many she had. The only thought ringing through her mind was how well both of you treated her. “Y/n… Obanai…” you it names left her in a struggling mantra, drunk off of both of your bodies. 

“Come for me, pretty girl… I know you want to.” Sweat was dripping down his temple, abdomen going taut as he tried to hold himself back. He had other plans in mind, he refused to come until he was able to achieve them. You, on the other hand, moved forward, body feeling like gelatin as you moved towards him. Obanai’s eyebrow cocked, watching as you struggled to move to the opposite end of Mitsuri. You nearly collapsed into him, watching as the pink haired woman squashed her cheek into the mattress, no longer able to support herself.

“Here…come for us please…” your hand snaked lower, finding her clit and rubbing it quickly. Overstimulation nearly overpowered her pleasure as a high pitched shriek left her, her final orgasm ripping through her body as a gush of warm liquid splattered Obanai, your hand and the sheets below. “Holy shit…” you croaked as she fell limply against the mattress, pulling Obanai out of her in the process. “Fucking filthy…” Obanai sneered, as he looked at you. “Get on your knees.” He ordered a moment later, cock wet and shining from Mitsuri’s release. 

You nearly fell off of the bed, knees hitting the wooden floor unceremoniously. You knew what was coming next, it sent a shrill of arousal through you as he got off of the bed with you. “Open your mouth… though from the looks of it you know what’s coming, don’t you? You little whore.” Your mouth parted, tongue sticking out as he grabbed your cheeks with his free hand. As excited as you were, you still clinched when a glob of his spit landed on your tongue. “Be a good little whore and swallow like you did last time.” You did, mouth shutting and reopening a moment later. 

“Atta girl…” the praise nearly had you melting. Mitsuri watched from the mattress, too worn out to even lift her head, never mind moving to help you. Obanai, as ruthless as ever, shoved his cock down your throat in a similar fashion to last time. You choked, embarrassingly loud as tears burned your eyes again. He hit the back of your throat, hand grabbing a fistful of your hair to drag you along his length. The taste of bitter precum mixed with Mitsuri’s release, the force of his tugging making you see stars. Your hands scrambled to find his legs, nails scratching the delicate skin  of his thighs as you tried to steady your breathing. 

Your nose brushed his pubic bone, body tensing as he held you in place. You looked upwards through wet lashes, watching a smirk creep up his face. The scars on his cheeks only lengthened it, he reminded you of a snake. You had the urge to call him beautiful again, though it would be quite difficult to do so at the moment. You forced your jaw to relax, seeing that he had no intentions of pulling out just yet. “You’re such an addictive pain in the ass… I mean really.” He pulled your hair a little tighter, watching as tears slipped down your cheeks. Sick satisfaction bubbled in his gut as your eyes turned glossy.

 He let you go a moment later, allowing you a second to breathe properly before shoving himself back down. “I’ve never met someone so infuriating…ha…yet so fucking intoxicating. To the point I actually miss your presence.” You made a noise of surprise, watching his head fall back as your throat vibrated. “T-that shocks you hmm? I figured it would…shit…ya know I’m really trying, Mitsuri.” His eyes shot over to her, her eyes lidded with sleep as she watched. “She was so persistent about me being nicer to you… easier…” his hips began thrusting back and forth, building in tempo slowly. 

“I think you can take it though, I think you enjoy being used as a fuck toy.” He slammed his hips down, earning another harsh gag from you as drool dripped down your chin. Your tongue lathered the underside of his cock, throat constricting as you swallowed the best you could around him. It didn’t help the saliva running down your chin and neck, dribbling onto your chest as Obanai had his way with you. “Cmon now…” his hand hit your cheek a couple times, pulling your attention back to him. “You enjoy it, don’t you?” this time you hummed something similar to a yes, throat vibrating around him once again. He was going to cum, he knew he was, but he was torn.

Come down your throat or see how pathetic you look with your face covered in it. He was already familiar with the satisfaction that came with the ladder, seeing your face covered was all too appealing. Not willing to fuck up again, the hand in your hair tightened to keep you in place as he retreated from your mouth all together. “Be a good little bitch and keep your mouth open…tongue out.” You watched with blurry vision as he pumped himself with his free hand. Your saliva clung to him, allowing his fist to glide rapidly. “You got lucky.. Lucky that Mitsuri distracted me. This time…fuck… this time it’s my way.”

It took a few more pumps for Obanai to spill himself all over your face. Sticky white painted your mouth, chin, chest and even your cheeks. Eyes squeezing shut in fear of getting it where you’d prefer you didn’t. The sight itself was nothing short of filthy, paired with the shaking whines of the man fisting your hair, it was enough to make Mitsuri squirm, head turning to look away. Obanai let go once his orgasm had died down, nothing but labored breathing filled the room as you tried to collect your wits. “Are you alright?” Obanai’s voice was quiet, face flushed and sweaty as he dropped down to your level. You swallowed, “Y..yeah…a wet cloth would be nice though…”

“Of course… get on the bed and make yourself comfortable. I’ll be back.” Mitsuri was pushing herself up, scooting to lay her head on one of the pillows. “Ahh y/n-chan, come lay beside me. You’re not running away from us again.” You pushed yourself up as Obanai disappeared from the room, making your way over to the bed and nearly collapsing onto the sheets. The only thing stopping you was the fear of making a mess… granted the sheets already needed to be changed due to Mitsuri. “Run away? I slept here last time too.” You chuckled softly as she rolled over. “Yes, but you still ran away the morning after. You’re not allowed to do that this time!”

“That so? How come.” you teased softly, trying to ignore the fluttering in your chest. “We have a lot to discuss, but I’m far too tired… you are too.” You opened your mouth but no words came out, “Mitsuri, you’re doing it again. You make it seem like we’re going to execute her or something. Don’t fill her head with useless worries or she’ll never fall asleep.” Obanai entered the room, wet cloth and new sheets in hand. He had also taken the time to throw on a kimono, as if trying to be modest after what you had just done. You let him clean your face, hands gentle as he wiped away his mess. It was probably the gentlest he’d ever touched you.

“Sorry…I guess that’s true.” Mitsuri slurred, already falling asleep. “G’night Mitsuri.” you laughed softly, eyes glancing over Obanai’s face. “We’ll change the bedding in the morning. You can bathe then as well, we have clothing you’d like if you’d allow us to wash the clothing you came in.” He was motioning you backwards, pulling a pillow to place under your head. “Oh… thank you…I don’t mean to be a nuisance.” he scoffed, shouldering off the clothing he had put on once again. “Stop saying things like that. We want you here, y/n.” You snorted, “You’ve called me a pain multiple times.” He climbed in beside you, the gentle snores signaling that Mitsuri had fallen asleep already.

“That’s because you are. But that’s not a bad thing… I assume you see me as a pain as well.” He sighed, settling comfortably on his back. “Oh absolutely… you’re just a bit insufferable… though I can’t say you don’t fuck me good.” You hummed, ignoring the burn in your cheeks as you shifted onto your side, back facing him. “Glad we’re on the same page… now get some sleep. Mitsuri and I have some things to talk about in the morning with you… so don’t try and run off like last time.” You huffed softly, muttering out a soft “fine” as sleep tugged at you. You could sleep easier when they were with you, warmth on each side, lulling you to sleep.

The third and final part of this little series will be I Always Do It Better

I plan on working on it and posting it hopefully some time this summer… definitely don’t intend on making y’all wait over a year again lmfao. I hope you enjoyed this part!! - May

[yoditopascal]

My Nemi

summary: sanemi cries during sex

warnings: smut minors DNI, gentle sex, hand holding, light angst

a/n: Can be read as a stand-alone or a sequel to Home!

He unravels one of your hands from his hair, lacing his fingers with yours giving them a squeeze.

He clung to you, his lips faltering in the kiss as he found himself unable to do anything besides hold on. His eyes, dark and heavy with unadulterated need.

He presses in deep with every stroke. You clench around him and do your best to meet him mid thrust. It’s slow and sweet, just like this whole night had been.

Your fingers curling in his hair, ankles locking above the swell of his ass. You don’t let him pull away and he doesn’t want to go, smearing tears against your neck as he drives himself deep, further, into your very being both physically and emotionally.

"My Nemi." You cupped Sanemi’s cheek pulling him from your neck to wipe away the tears that were steadily streaming down his face.

“I love you.”

Love.

He wasn’t sure he knew what that felt like anymore. Everytime he loved someone they went away. Masachika……Kanae.

He wanted to answer you back, but he couldn’t. Not while he was like this, he knew he’d choke if he tried.

More tears flowed from his eyes as he reburied his face in your neck and picked up the pace.

At one particularly sharp thrust you moan lewdly right into Sanemi’s ear, that sent him into a feral frenzy.

He grabs your legs and pushes them as far up as they could go. Your knees practically by your head at this angle.

The new angle allows him to go even deeper than he was before. His mouth exploring your neck, mouth and chest as he loses himself in your cunt.

The room was filled with the sounds of your breathless moans and the echoes of wet rhythmic slapping sounds of your skin against his.

A shiver creeps up your spine as Sanemi huffs over you. A long low moan leaves him as his hips begin to stutter.

He was getting close, you could tell. Your own orgasm building in the pit of your stomach too.

Both so close you could almost reach out and touch it.

“S-so fucking warm.” Sanemi rasps out hips losing their rhythm as he looks down to watch his dick disappear in and out of you, a creamy translucent ring forming around the base.

Your back arches as your second orgasm of the night overpowered you, sensitivity starting to set in. Grabbing your hand again he engulfs yours with one of his calloused pads gently squeezing and stroking at your fingers as he draws closer to his climax.

His hips bucked wildly as he clutched at your spamming hips, your cunt squelches as he finally floods your insides with thick ropes of cum.

The fabric of your comforter sticks to your sweat soaked skin as you both come down from your high. The cool wind from the spring night was starting to seep into the room causing you both to shiver.

Kissing along your jaw, Sanemi gives your hand one last gentle squeeze, his face buried in your neck again as he sniffles and murmurs out “…love you too.”

When he pulls away your grinning from ear to ear, cheeks flustered from your copulation.

“Shut up and get some sleep.” He looks away, flustered, going to pull out.

“I didn’t even say anything!” You yawn

“You don’t have to.” He kisses your forehead before tucking you both into your futon sleep already clouding both of your vision.

The former tsugoku simply smiled some more before snuggling into his chest content to be home in his arms for the first time in months.

[shu-porang-porang]

Cat In Heat

You got him a little surprise!

(sequel: Bunny In Heat)

Pairs: Lee Minho (Lee Know) / fem!reader

Rating: Very Explicit!

Theme: Smut, 18+ NO MINORS.

Warnings: oral, fingering, butt plug, spanking, unprotected sex (do not try at home!), (I think that's enough! let's keep some elements of surprise!)

Word count: 2.8 k

You received a text from Minho: “Hey baby, I’m gonna hit the gym and grab a bite with Jisung next.”

He arrived at 4 a.m. so you didn’t expect him to go to the gym first thing when he woke up, but apparently that’s what he’s gonna do. He was away for only 3 days but you missed him so much it was gnawing at your every fiber. Last night you only noticed his arrival when the mattress dipped next to you and then he spooned you. You tried to fight your sleep weary eyes and wake up to greet him properly but his warmth and the comfort of his presence lulled you back to sleep seconds later. When you woke up this morning, leaving the bed was the hardest thing, you just wanted to stay tangled up with his limbs but you had to leave for work. You slowly slipped out the bed, trying to not wake him up in the process, then placed the softest kiss on his temple, you couldn’t wait to get back and feast on his lips later.

You can’t wait for this work day to be over. Your mind is somewhere else entirely, you’re thinking of the little gift you prepared for him. Two days ago was Valentines Day and he was away. Since it was your first valentine together, you were bummed that you couldn’t spend it with him, but you knew what you got yourself into when you started dating a very busy idol, so you put up a front and did your best to assure him it didn’t matter and you weren’t upset. There’s no point in making a fuss about it anyway, it’s not like they would cancel their plans because you wanted to be with your boyfriend. He said he’d make it up to you later and you decided you can plan a belated valentine when he’s back. Little did he know, you’ve been preparing something for him for weeks. You just can’t decide on the right time to give it to him.

You’re done for the day and there’s nothing else for you to do at work, you ask your boss if you could leave earlier and he says yes. So, you rush to your shared apartment. You have some time before he’s home so you decide to unpack his suitcase. As you’re going through his stuff, you find a box of chocolate, you can’t read the Japanese written all over it, but there’s no doubt it’s chocolate. He always brings you some souvenir so without giving it much thought, you open the box and try one. Well, it’s nothing special, just descent chocolate. Not every souvenir has to be something unique, right? You place it on the drawer and go back to your task at hand.

As time passes by, you start to feel impatient and on edge. It’s like when you have lots of caffein and you get jittery, except that it’s more of a warm feeling, it settles deep in your stomach. It’s not exactly uncomfortable but you’re not sure what’s causing it so you decide to distract yourself by checking the little surprise you got for Minho. You take out the stuff you hid in the back of your bottom drawer and sprawl them out on the bed. It’s an outfit you’ve put together. White and pink lingerie, stockings, garters, a chocker, and few other accessories, but the most exciting parts of the ensemble are the fluffy cat ears and tail. You pick up the tail, feel the weight of the plug attached to it. It was the last item you got and you haven’t come around to try it yet. Suddenly you worry you won’t be able to wear it. What if you can’t get used to it and have to take it off? You don’t know when you’re gonna give him his gift, but you decide to try it now that you’re alone and see if you can handle it.

You take your pants and panties off, hold the tail in your hand, not sure how to go about it. You poke the tip of the shiny plug to your hole but you stop as you can’t get it in even the slightest. Idiot! You need to prepare with lube first! Your hands fidget through the drawer with excitement in search for the lube you bought. You picked a very specific flavor, caramel, hoping it would taste similar to pudding! Too bad they didn’t have a pudding flavor! You lather a finger up and try again. It’s really uncomfortable but you wanna do it for him and you will do it. It’s a weird feeling, having a finger up your butt, and you think there’s no way it’s gonna get loose enough for the plug to fit in but you don’t give up. The warm feeling in your stomach from earlier encourages you to keep going. You move that finger around till you feel less resistance, then you take it out to lube up two fingers this time. You don’t wanna get too loose or the plug will fall out? Is that even a thing? You don’t know, so you decide to give the plug a try. You carefully pour lube on the plug, you don’t wanna ruin the fur, then you push it in and it fits perfectly! You clench and unclench your sphincter a few times, testing how it feels, then you stand up and check yourself in the mirror.

Watching the tail dangling from between your butt cheeks turns you on instantly. You immediately rid yourself of the rest of your clothes to put all the parts of the ensemble on. You pose in front of the mirror. You spend some time putting on a light cute makeup while enjoying a second piece of chocolate, then take another look at your entire outfit. Wow! You look so fuckable!! If only Minho got home sooner. You take a photo of your thigh hugged tightly by the stockings and the garter and send it to him along with: “Are you really gonna hang out with that stupid Ji while I’m waiting for you like this?” 

A few seconds later you receive a text from him: “On my way, be there in 10 minutes”

He finally gets home. He’s heart been racing since he laid eyes on that photo and he’s been sporting a semi-hard cock all along. Good thing his oversized hoodie covered it up. He opens the door to the apartment to find you stretched out on the couch, practically humping a cushion.

“Holy fuck! What’s gotten into you today?” He says as he approaches you in disbelief. His eyes scanning your outfit and becoming wide in shock as he notices the tail poking from under the mini skirt covering your ass.

“I’m just being hot for my boyfriend, is that wrong?” You say, stretching like a cat and raising your ass in the air. The skirt rides up and he sees that the tail isn’t a strap on or attached to the skirt.

He kneels next to the couch, running a hand up your thigh till it reaches where the tail inserts your body. He gives the plug an experimental push that draws a whimper from you.

“Kitty’s in heat, huh? What a naughty lil kitty. I’ll take care of you, pussy cat.” His hand comes in contact with your drenching pussy as he says the last word. You mewl in need. Your skin is on fire and his touch feels too good to be true. You can’t think straight, all you know is that you need him next to you, on you, in you, you just want him to take you right then and there.

He picks you up effortlessly and carries you to the bedroom, plops you on the bed and causes the plug to go a bit deeper, drawing a hiss from you. You sit up and get on your knees, reaching for his hand to drag him to bed.

“Easy baby, what’s the rush?” He says as his free hand is unbuttoning his shirt. Despite your needy erratic movements, he’s so calm, mostly just enjoying the view of your eagerness.

As soon as he gets on the bed, you reach to unbuckle his belt. He watches you in silence, the way your dainty fingers struggle with the belt and his waistband. You pull his pants and boxers down and he eases out of them. His cock springs free and you don’t hesitate to attach your lips to it. Usually it’s not how things go, you haven’t even kissed him once since he arrived, but your head is filled with carnal desires and you don’t need foreplay to get in the mood.

He leans back on his elbows as your head bobs up and down on his member, bringing it to life fast. You lick a fat stripe from the base to the top, your tongue teases the head with playful licks, his low grunts are melody to your ears. Precum pearls on the tip and you collect it all with your tongue. You wrap your lips around the tip again and give it a few sucks. He sits back up to stop you.

“I won’t last long if you keep that up.” he lifts your chin up, and fixes your cat ear headpiece “Aigoo! What a dirty little kitty.” He coos at you with his eyes fixed on your lips, all swollen and red, so kissable. You get the cue and move closer, clashing your lips. Kissing him after days feels like you’ve been deprived of oxygen and you can finally breathe. You straddle him, your fingers in his soft locks, his hands around your shoulders, your chests heave against one another. You push him on his back as you deepen the kiss, you hungrily suck on his tongue and pull his lips between your teeth. You only stop when your lungs are burning. You hide your face in his neck as you’re gasping for air, your core finding a rhyme to ride his thigh. You moan out his name at the new found friction. You’re not wearing any panties; you thought it wouldn’t be practical with a plug up your butt. Your slick coats his muscular thigh.

“Is kitty having a good time?”

“…mmh” you can’t form words, your brain already signed off and he hasn’t even touched you yet. You suck a spot under his ear while his hand reaches down to squeeze your butt cheek under the skirt.

“Then do me a favor and sit that pretty pussy down on my face.”

You don’t hesitate to follow his order. His tongue skillfully laps at your wet core, his nose nudges your clit. You try not to move but you have no control over your body anymore. Your hips move on their own, riding his face, so he gives your ass a slap as a warning. A loud squeak escapes your lips. You do your best to behave but how can you when now he’s sucking on your clit, while hooking a finger inside you and toying with the plug at the same time. He stops all stimulations at once when he realizes your close.

“…Min…… please”

“Naughty kitties don’t get to come so easily. Now get on fours”

You comply, what else would you do? You’d jump off a cliff if he told you so. You wiggle your ass to his face as he’s closely observing where the plug disappears inside you. Your outfit’s still intact but it’s not gonna last long. He pulls the plug out without warning and replaces it with his tongue. Instantly you hear his satisfied groan, he’s probably enjoying your choice of lubricant. You push back on his face, needing more friction. He brings a hand to rub around your clit while his teeth graze your rim. Your arousal drips shamelessly on the sheets, it’s like a leaky faucet, that’s how good he’s having you now. You never even imagined having your asshole eaten would feel good, something’s really gotten into you. He stops his ministrations just as you’re starting to feel the orgasm build up for the second time. He steps back to admire the view before shoving the plug back in and give you new instructions.

“Close your thighs and press them tight for me princess.”

You look back and see him aligning his oozing cock.

“Just… fuck me… already”

“Too soon…” he forcefully shoves his cock in the small gap between your thighs “…ughhh….for that”

After a few thrusts, he’s fully covered in your juices so he picks up the pace as it slides easier. His member rubs on your clit with every thrust but it’s nowhere near enough to get you off. He gives you a slap that makes you press your thighs harder, so he gives you another, and another, and another. You press your head to the pillow to muffle your yelps. You think you might be reaching a climax this time but no. He takes the plug out and flips you around. This time you don’t just complain with words, but tears are running down your face. You’re a mess.

“Oh little kitty, why the tears? Was I too harsh with my sweet angel?” he says as he towers over you and leans to kiss your tears away.

“No…. just….wanna cum”

“You will baby. You will”

He kisses your face some more and moves down to your neck and chest. He yanks your frilly chocker with his teeth and throws it on the bed, so he can properly kiss and mark your neck. Then he unhooks the lacy matching bra and discards it somewhere else in the room. His hands come in contact with your soft breasts, his thumbs rub your nipples simultaneously and your lips part in a whimper.

“My gorgeous lil kitty” he admires as he continues to knead your breasts and then dips to take one pebbled nipple between his teeth. His tongue twirls around it and he closes his lips on it to suck. His hand travels south to slip between your folds and find your entrance. He has two fingers inside you, with his thumb pressing down on your clit. You buck your hips up to his touch. He lets go of your nipple and comes back up to kiss your lips with his fingers still inside you. You’re so lost in the hot sloppy kiss that before you know it, his dick takes the place of his fingers in you. Fucking finally!

You bite his shoulder as he bottoms out in one go and the stretch overwhelms you. He moans in your ear from your delicious tightness.

“Please….Move baby” you plead and he obeys. Caging you between his hands on either side of your head, he takes his sweet time with slow thrusts. He pushes your thighs to your chest and throws your legs over his shoulders. With this new angle he reaches deep inside, hitting your cervix with every single thrust. It doesn’t take you long to feel the knot in your stomach again for the… you don’t even know how many times he got you there and left you unfulfilled. You tightly hold onto him as his thrusts get faster.

“ugh… gonna…. c..cum…”

“Cum for me… angel” he kisses your parted lips, muffling your moans, as your orgasm finally washes over you. He reaches a hand down to pinch your clit, your entire body jolts with each pinch as you’re riding out your orgasm. It’s the best orgasm you’ve ever had, well, you’d say that about every orgasm with him, but this one really hits different. Your fluttering walls around him milk him dry and a string of curses leaves his lips as he joins you. He rides his climax, still thrusting into you until your mixed cum forms a ring around his base.

He pulls out and falls on top of you, you don’t mind the weight, you’re too tired to care anyway and he feels like a heavy blanket, you don’t even care about your sticky bodies or sheets. You think you could die happy at this moment but he gets up to clean you before you drift off to sleep. He takes a good look at your fucked out state “Gosh! Baby you’re so hot. I love you so much”. You smile with your eyes closed “love you too”. You’re almost entering dreamland when he startles you:

“Fuck! Baby you ate these chocolates?” He found the open box of chocolates you left on the drawer.

“..mhmm”

“Did you know these were aphrodisiacs?”

“WHAT?” suddenly you’re fully awake, your eyes darting towards his direction.

“I wanted to try them together.” He says with an evident pout on his face.

“There’s still plenty left bunny boy.”

[indulgentdaydream]

i LIVE for the nurse!reader work!!! i was wondering if you could do more nurse!reader where jason gets badly injured during patrol and she has to like stitch him up

OR

one where shes training as a family doctor and jason walks in on her comforting a little kid while she gives him an injection/shot?

either one is fine!

btw...YOUR WRITING IS SO COMFORTING

omg thank you!! I'm so happy my writing brings comfort to people. I usually use writing as a way to bring comfort to myself 😂

This can be read as both a stand alone and a sequel to Meet Cutes, my original Nurse!Reader work! It's not necessary to read Meet Cutes to read this

Comfort

Jason Todd x Nurse!Reader || Fluff Word Count: 2,014 Warnings: Blood, stitches, concussion, brief nod to Jason’s death by the mentioned date (April 27th)

2/6 fic of the line up! there was no way in hell i was getting them all out by his birthday I have no idea what I was on when I said that (pain killers. it was pain killers) (prescribed pain killers)

It was an unbearably hot night in Gotham. One that had Jason shucking his thick leather jacket off and fisting it in his hand as he stumbled through the alleyways.

Stupid Killer Croc. Stupid sewers. Stupid heat for making the sewers smell even worse. Stupid him for letting that oversized lizard get the jump on him.

Jason enters the clinic through the back door, as per usual. He didn’t need you getting caught up in vigilante problems just because people had seen him coming and going from this place.

The bright lights of the clinic have him flinching, his head pounding inside his helmet casing. He closes the door behind him by leaning against it. He hisses, pressing the fabric of his jacket to the bloody gash on his left shoulder blade. His armour had cracked off in a jagged line, leaving the flesh exposed. Killer Croc had used it as a nice place to sink one of his claws in when he picked Jason up off the disgusting sewer floor. It wasn’t bad. Fairly deep, but, as he usually told you, he’s had worse.

Usually, with injuries as simple as this, Jason would go to his nearest safe house and tend to it all himself. But, with this particular wound, he couldn’t reach around without his shoulder screaming in pain, nor without potentially giving himself the shittiest stitches known to man.

Best he could do for now is clamp his jacket to it with his right hand. Second best thing he could do was trip and stumble his way through Gotham, making wrong turns and headed in five different directions before he had picked the right one.

His head was stuffed with cotton. Maybe sewage. He wanted his helmet off, too suffocating for him in the moment, but he didn’t have his domino mask on.

Jason knew you were always the last one working. You would come in a few hours later than your other coworkers, just so you could keep the clinic open just that much longer for the unwilling victims of Gotham's nightly activities.

He wasn’t a part of those victims. Jason was one of the willing ones.

All in all, he admired you for your effort. A small star in a smog filled night sky. Brighter than what people realized.

Jason stepped towards your office door. It was open giving him a solid directory. His steel toes felt heavy on his feet. That’s what he’s blaming for the fact that he tripped over his own feet, his head swimming.

Jason fell against the door frame. His left shoulder hit the edge, pulling a deep groan of pain from him. He bumped into the door, sending it flying into the wall. He finally regained his balance, still leaning his head on the frame.

He faintly registered your gasp of surprise.

“Hood!" you cried, jumping up from your office chair, stepping closer, "What happened? What's wrong?"

Jason hated the way he gravitated towards you. He leaned into your touch when you grabbed a hold of his arm to steady him, to move him closer into the room.

This is weakness. He thought briefly through the thick fog surrounding him. Relying on some nurse. He should've never let himself get close to you. You don't even know his name. Or what his face looks like. But having you run to his aid with such a worried expression on your face is far too close to have you.

"Lay down. On your stomach."

Jason blinked. Your voice brought him back to the present, his head still spinning. He was sitting on the cot, pushed up against the wall. His jacket was hanging off the back of your office chair, bloody. The shoulder of his shirt cut off by your scissors, revealing part of his chest and back, too.

He doesn't remember any of that. Maybe he is in worse shape than he thought.

"Hood. Lay your ass down."

Jason followed your orders, "You have such graceful bedside manner, Nurse."

You scoff, already slipping your gloves on and dissinfecting yourself, ready to work.

You applied the stinging disinfectant to Jason's skin, making him suck in a sharp breath. The noise sounded odd, yet still recognizable through his voice modulator, "More like Nurse Ratched."

You pout, confused, "Who?"

Jason sighs, feeling his cheeks burn a little, "Nevermind..."

Your silent for a while, continuously threading the needle through Jason's skin as you pull it together.

"So..." you drawl out. "You gonna tell me how this happened?"

Jason was silent for another moment, "Mmmm... would if I could focus right now, sweetheart."

You paused on the last stitch, "Hm?"

He shifted his head lightly, peering at you through the corner of his vision, "What?"

You let out a breathy laugh, "I'm guessing you hit your head, too?"

Jason let out another robotic hum, "Got thrown into a wall."

"Did you now?" You step back from him, finished your work.

Jason nodded, "Lizard."

Stifling another laugh you started to clean up your tools, "You got thrown into the wall by... by a lizard?"

Jason didn't move, his speech a little slurred, "Fuckin' overgrown murder lizard..."

“Murder Lizard?”

He briefly waved a hand in dismissal, “Whatever his name is.”

“…Killer Croc?”

“…yeah. Him.”

You tapped his gloved hand, "Can you sit up and answer some more questions for me, Hood?"

Jason groaned as he pushed himself back up, moving slow. Once he was up, his head began to pound all over again. He reached up, pressed the release button under his jaw. A small hissing sound of the releasing pressure sounded.

He saw you stiffen, your eyes a little wide in shock, "What are you doing?"

“'s fine. I trust ya," He lifted the red helmet off until you were able to see his whole face. He remembered that not even a domino mask was hiding his eyes in the moment "'sides. It's too tight f'r me right now."

Jason believed he was a sight to see. All scars, disheveled hair, the yellowing bruise along the right side of hjs jaw from a few weeks ago, his crooked teeth and his crooked nose. Your eyes were wide, taking him in. He couldn't tell if it was in fear, shock, or awe. He was so much better at reading people, usually.

“I know,” a small smirk tugged at his lips, the right side of it staying lower due to the pain of his bruise, “Much more of an ugly mug then you were expecting, eh sweetheart?"

He saw you narrow your eyes. You didn’t like that comment. He could tell. What did he say? Nothing but his own truth.

…did I just fucking call you ‘sweetheart’?

A beam of light entered his vision.

He cringed back, "Ugh!"

You held up your small flashlight, switching it between Jason's eyes, "When were you born?"

Jason blinked rapidly, rubbing at his eyes now that you had pulled away the light. “April 27th,” he paused, pinching the bridge of his nose. “No. Fuck. That’s not it.”

You opened your drawer again and put the flashlight away, “You have a concussion.”

"No shit," His head was pounding to the point he could hear it in his ears.

"I'll let you go on two conditions."

Jason kept his eyes on you. He enjoyed the sight of your face much better than that agonizing light.

“First. Promise to rest up,” you gave him a pointed look.

Jason shrugged. He’d try.

“Promise.”

He groaned, “Fine. I promise.”

You looked pleased with yourself. He tried to push away the want to put that look on your face all the time.

“Second. Call somebody you know and trust to drive you home.”

He looked away from you. There was no one he trusted with that info. His safe house or this clinic. Or you.

“Fine,” you rolled away in your chair and pulled out a pen and paper. “Go get changed into some civilian clothes and I’ll call you a taxi.”

“You’re not payin’ for that,” Jason said quickly. His head hung low as his head pounded to the beat of his heart.

“That’s fine,” you pulled a roll of gauze from your drawer and stepped closer to him. “Do you have any Alieve or Tylenol at home?”

He barked out a laugh that ricocheted through his skull, “With how much I’m in here? Who do you think I am?”

You gave him a deadpan look. You began wrapping his shoulder and his stitches.

He gave a small smirk. He liked looking at your face. A nice sight for his sore eyes.

He blinked again. You were very close to him. His heart picked up in time with the throbbing of his skull.

He looked away, scowling.

Weakness.

“If I give you anything, I have to write down who I’m giving it to. It’s policy, I’ll need a name. Do you have alieve or tylenol at home Red?”

Jason let out a hum. He leaned forward pinched his nose bridge in thought again. Everything was fuzzy, “Maybe?”

“What name am I writing then?”

He didn’t even think to hesitate. He registered how that was a bad thing, but his concussion was stopping him from thinking properly. “Jason Todd.”

You let out a laugh right next to his ear.

He flinched, wincing at the sound, “What?”

“That’s the fakest name I’ve ever heard.”

It took him a second to register what you meant. That was his name. You were one of the few he had actually introduced himself to as himself in a while, and you didn’t believe it was his name.

You finished wrapping his bandages and stepped away. He found himself missing the warmth. “Mhmm. What address are you gonna give me now? 1234 Main Street?”

He scowled a little more than he already was. He felt his ears burn, “567 Main Street North.” It was one of his safe houses he was getting rid of soon. A place no one would find him by the end of the week.

You laughed again. It grated on his ears, but he was sure it’d be music without this concussion.

The rest of his visit was a bit of a blur. You told him to go change into civilian clothes. He remembers telling you it was fine, that he didn’t mind having the Red Hood be seen taking a taxi. You reminded him his shirt was half torn off. He put his armour back on and zipped up his jacket over top. You were calling a taxi by the time he had gotten his helmet back on.

The entire time he was trying to guess what your laugh sounded like normally. Surely he’s heard it before? Why couldn’t he remember?

Right. The concussion.

Red Hood was stepping out the door of your office when you called after him.

“Stay safe.”

He let out a small laugh, looking back over his shoulder at you, “Never do, sweetheart.”

You laughed too and he felt his ears burn again. He needed to shut up and stop letting that slip.

“That’s the third time you’ve called me that.” You crossed your arms, leaning back in your chair. “You must really be out of it.”

Jason frowned behind his helmet. He doesn’t remember three times.

…okay maybe two. But not three.

You gave a knowing smile, ignoring it, “You just have to make sure I always have my work cut out for me, don’t you?”

Jason smiled behind the helmet, “I like seeing you.”

He wanted to bash his head against that brick wall again. Especially when your grin got a little wider and his face got a little hotter.

“‘Kay, bye.” He walked out before you could respond.

Jason never did wait for the taxi. He left through the back door like always and made his trek back to the closest safe house. He clutched the box of tylenol he had stuffed in his pocket, feeling the tug of his stitches when he found his bike and revved the engine before peeling away into the night.

[love-belle]

light as a feather !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which she writes a song and finds love again while he finds himself facing the consequences of his actions.

or

for when the right person is right around the corner. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // lando norris x fem!ex!reader // charles leclerc x fem!reader (implied)

sequel - you got me thinking nonsense ⋆·˚ ༘ *

warnings - language, mention of cock once, sex jokes (???)

author's note - might make a part 2 idkk but i hope u like this <3 thank u sm for reading!!!! alsoooo im gonna start a taglist so if ur interested PLEASE let me know <3

taglist - @marsdreamworld @1nt3rnetgf

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by y/nupdates, f1paddockgossip, y/nsteponme and 79,628 others

popnews y/n y/l/n and lando norris called it quits after almost a year of being together. this news came after y/l/n flew out to see him during the dutch grand prix and left the very next day, not attending the race. "it was very sudden, neither of them saw it coming," sources close to the pair commented. "they were together for a year and it was getting very real and that scared lando. he just felt like the relationship had run its course and wasn't going anywhere." this proved to be kind of confusing and controversial as not even a week after their break up, norris was spotted with a girl out on a "date". for more details, visit the link in our bio.

2,528 comments

username say sike rn

username WHAT THE FUCK.

username "the relationship had run its course and wasn't going anywhere" brother what do u MEAN it wasn't going anywhere and what do u MEAN he went on a date

username nah this is insane wtf

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≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by charles_leclerc, carmenmmundt, lilymhe and 3,772,415 others

yourusername feather out everywhere lol have fun with this one <3

tagged landonorris

28,628 comments

username TOO MUCH GOING ON I NEED TO SCREAM

username THE TAG THE SONG THE LYRICS OG MY GOF

username i am afraid lando is crying as we speak rn

charles_leclerc so good 😘

-> yourusername thank u charles 🫶🏼

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-> username iconic

lilymhe enjoyed every second of it 🔥🔥🔥

-> yourusername i love u <3

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maxfewtrell oh the silence from his room is LOUD

-> yourusername LMFAOAOAO

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-> username fr like 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

taylorswift so proud 🤧🩷

-> yourusername i love u mom

username the silence is LOUD

username nah bro fumbled HARD

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-> username no bc i need to go back to their in love era

username lando norris is having a breakdown over this as we talk

carlossainz55 on repeat 😍

*liked by yourusername*

username someone PLEASE hand the mic to lando i need to hear what he has to say about this

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*liked by yourusername*

alex_albon absolutely iconic

-> yourusername thank u lily's bf 🪿

username no bc i was expecting more of a heartbreak song but THIS??????

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luisinhaoliveira99 pretty girl cool song 💌

-> yourusername angel ❤️‍🩹

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-> username love it when people (y/n and luisinha) unite to destroy their common enemy (lando)

≡;- ꒰ twitter ꒱

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by lilymhe, oliviarodrigo, charles_leclerc and 2,628,825 others

yourusername floatin through the memories like wtv (photo creds to charles_leclerc who annoyed me until i agreed to post these)

15,527 comments

username OH MY GOD

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-> username as expected

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-> username fr like how did charles not pass out from behind the camera

-> charles_leclerc trust me, i was so close

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username ate so hard and left no crumbs

charles_leclerc 😍😍😍😍😍

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username my pronouns are she not her bc i'll NEVER be her

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by pierregasly, carlossainz55, maxverstappen1 and 975,327 others

landonorris talking shit ain't gonna do a thing

11,628 comments

username says YOU

username lando babe go on do it log out and never log in again

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username no words

carlossainz55 listen to your own advice, brother.

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-> username y'all my girl did no wrong he had this coming for cheating

charles_leclerc lol

-> username out of everything everyone has commented this is by far the most scariest one

-> username u know u have done fucked up with charles comments "lol"

username love how the comments are just bullying lando 🫶🏼

alex_albon LMFAOAOAOAO

-> username PLEASEEE ALEX

-> username forever in love with him he's my babygirl

username love how protective the drivers are of y/n ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

username m*n need to go back to war fr

maxverstappen1 cannot wait to see you on track this week.

-> username i have a feeling lando's gonna kiss the barriers this sunday 🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔

username anyway stream feather by y/n 🫶🏼

username LOVE to see the grid calling him out

-> username fr like gag him

lewishamilton nice joke. never joke again.

-> username no bc if i got called out by THE lewis hamilton i will just never show my face ever again

-> username right like how is he not embarrassed

username no bc if i lost someone like y/n bc i was a fucking idiot and then my best friend rizzed her up i would just simply Pass Away like that's a level of embarrassment i CANNOT take

lilymhe didn't you cheat on her 😂😂😂😂😂

-> username NOT LILY CONFIRMING THAT

-> username nah he deserves everyone calling him out lando wtf

username lily u will always be famous

maxfewtrell don't make me apply for a new roommate

-> username PLEASE MAX

-> username just a very good example as to why u should NEVER EVER EVER EVER cheat on ANYONE bc u will end up like lando on the internet

username y/n bout to swing back on him i can feel it

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by luisinhaoliveira99, carlossainz55, sebastianvettel and 2,262,826

yourusername i hit ignore

17,528 comments

username PLEASE

username she's too iconic i fear

username I LOVE HER SHE'S SO UNSERIOUS

username no bc u know shit is real when seb is here

username i love how luisinha and y/n are like best friends now

-> username the most iconic pair EVER

*liked by luisinhaoliveira99 and yourusername*

danielricciardo baby-you was so swag

-> yourusername i know

-> danielricciardo what happened now

-> yourusername wOW

username she was such a vibe-y child i love that

username this is so MESSY and im here for every second of it

username her using her own lyrics like mother 🙏🙏🙏

username i would get on my knees for y/n and y/n only

username serves cunt again and again

charles_leclerc smash that ignore button and while you're at it, i sent you flowers 🥰

-> yourusername omg they're so prettyyy i love them ☹️❤️

-> username PEOPLE WE'VE UPGRADED TO RED HEART

-> username white heart to red heart we love to see it

username no bc what i don't get is how he's gonna break up with her after a YEAR of being together bc lil bitch boy got scared of commitment and then turn around and allegedly cheat on her and then say u talking shit like NO SHUT THE FUCK UP we got a banger song and an iconic duo with the bad bitches u fumbled and i get a chance to see charles FINALLY make a move on his godforsaken crush

-> yourusername that was so intense and im trying to process it all but U GO BABY I LOVE UUUUU

-> luisinhaoliveira99 spoke facts

username love the comments are just charles and y/n, luisinha and y/n and anti l*ndo ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

username im sooo here for this let's fucking go

alex_albon i would've been best friends with baby-you ngl

-> yourusername we're literally best friends what the fuck r u about

-> alex_albon no you're just an unfortunate addition to my life because my gf loves you

-> yourusername yeah she loves me MORE than u so go cry abt it

-> lilymhe true 🫶🏼

-> alex_albon wow

username the day charles and y/n (IT WILL HAPPEN) get together will be the day i can finally rest in peace

username the silence from l*ndo's side is DEAFENING

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

David Tennant at This Morning show with Alison Hammond and Dermot O’Leary talking about Good Omens Season 2, 11.07.2023 :) ❤

DO: And David joins us now. I mean, this looks like a great show.

David: Oh, yeah.

DO: So, I mean, It's pure Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman, isn't it?

David: It is, yeah.

DO: The whole thing. So tell us, so if people haven't seen the first series and they want to go back, set the whole scene.

David: So I'm Hell's representative on Earth, Michael Sheen is Heaven's representative on Earth, put there to do the biding of our respective Head Offices. But we found out that if we became mates and sort of helped each other out, it kind of cut out the workload, cancelled each other out. So we're best mates. But in Series One we end up having to avert the apocalypse, which we managed to do, but as a result of that, we get cut off. So we're now living on Earth as independent individuals.

AH: So do you still need each other, then?

David: We still need each other. We've only got each other now because we don't have Heaven and Hell anymore.

DO: Because you both love earth so much, you both like.

David: Oh, we much prefer living on Earth because Heaven's a bit stuffy and Hell's awful.

DO: So you conspire to thwart the Armageddon. Exactly.

David: We thwart the Armageddon. That's fine. But Series Two begins when the angel Gabriel, Jon Hamm, who you just saw there, shows up at Aziraphale, Michael Sheen's bookshop, naked with no memory, holding a cardboard box. So suddenly we're locked into the politics of Heaven and Hell again. We don't know what's going on. We've got a mystery to solve. Why is the angel Gabriel here? The angel Gabriel tried to kill us both at the end of the last series, so we've got to...

DO: But now he's kind of got amnesia and...

David: Yes. So he becomes like our weird child, in this sort of weird sort of eternal marriage that Michael and I are locked in.

DO: So many shows now use a book as their base and then they do really well and you can see the company and the writers go, better come up some new ideas, I suppose. So the book's obviously Terry Pratchett and then Neil Gaiman, correct?

David: That's right. They wrote that together years and years and years ago. Much beloved. And that's what the first series was. But Neil and Terry had always talked about possibilities of this sequel that they never got around to making. Terry's no longer with us. But when the possibility came up, Neil thought, well, listen, I've got some ideas. Let's spin it forward. Let's see if we can tell the story we were always going to tell. So we get to come back.

AH: Should we have a little sneak look at the new series? Let's have a look. So good. Did you ever think it was going to be this successful? Did you even know that you were going to go into a second series

David: Oh, no, not at all. No. There was only one novel, so we just thought we were coming together to do that. And I didn't realise how beloved this book was. I first read a script. But it means a lot to a lot of people.

AH: And the look of you is so striking. Did you have any input into that? A bit, yeah, we sort of all found it together, myself and makeup and costume and Neil Gaiman, who ran the show. So, yeah, we kind of arrived... in the book he's a bit more - because obviously the book was sort of early ninetues, so he was a bit more sharp-suited and a bit more Wolf of Wall Street. So we've kind of had to find the kind of modern equivalent of that.

DO: Is he... obviously you're playing a demon. Has he got any humanity in him or is he purely self-centered?

David: Well, he's not a very good demon. He's good at sort of the snarl and the swagger and pretending that he's terribly cynical, but actually his problem is that he's a bit too...  there’s a bit too much heart, really.

DO: He's alright

David: Yeah, yeah.

DO: Must be wonderful playing a baddie.

David: Oh, it's great fun, but he's not a baddie, is not really a baddie.

DO: Yeah, yeah.

David: And just like Aziraphale angel is not always as goody goody as he likes it, so they meet very beautifully in the middle.

DO: You and Michael Sheen. I mean, you've worked together a fair bit, don't you. I loved Staged. That was such fun.

David: Yeah!

AH: Have you ever not worked together?

David: Now we only work together.

AH: All the time.

David: Yeah. I mean, He's not sitting on this sofa, but he is backstage. We can't be apart.

DO: He's speaking in his ear right now.

David: Exactly, yeah.

AH: But you are... you have got a genuine friendship. You're growing old together gracefully.

David: We're growing old together?!

AH: You look good for it, I'm not going to lie. What's the secret, babe?

David: A lot of makeup. It's very thick.

AH: We've got to talk about the fact that you are returning to Doctor Who.

David: Ah, yes.

AH: I can't believe this. And can you tell us anything at all?

David: I mean, beyond that I'm doing it? I think...

AH: No.

David: Really. Because that's the fun of it, isn't it? Hopefully tt was a bit of a surprise when I showed up. When Jodie Whittaker regenerated into me.

AH: We were shocked.

David: It was a bit of a surprise, so we wanted to sort of keep some shocks, but Catherine Tate's back, so it's a bit like 15 years never happened, to be honest.

DO: Know about it for a while. Like... did Russell T get in touch and say...

David: Yeah, it sort of gradually kind of evolved as an idea and we thought maybe they'd let us do a one off for old time's sake. And then suddenly it became a bit more than that and we were back for a bit of a run.

AH: So how many episodes did you get to do?

David: We did three.

AH: Wow. That's incredible. What's it like to be back? Did he just slot straight back in?

David: I mean, sort of. It felt weirdly familiar. Yeah. And you think, 'Oh, will I still able to run as fast? Can I still kind of...?' But it was like we'd never been away. It was joyous. Yeah.

DO: And could we talk about your son? Because is your son in Good Omens with you?

David: Ty's in... has a part in Episode Two of Good Omens.

AH: Is he?

DO: And I loved him in House of the Dragon.

David: I know. He's very good. He's very good.

DO: What a relief.

David: There he is. I know, what a relief. Exactly. No, I mean...

AH: Imagine if he was bad.

David: Imagine if he was rubbish. How would we tell him? Sit down, listen...I know it's sort of the family business, but maybe joinery? So... no, he's really good. And he's annoyingly good looking. You know, he's just got it all. So it's lovely and great to get to work together. Brilliant.