#i never thought i could have possibly like them even more but i do

[aurorawritestoescape]

GOOD GIRL || Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: you get caught in the rain on your way to Professor Miller’s house and your lesson gets derailed.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, fluff, big age gap (reader’s in her early 20s, Joel’s in his late 40s), insecure reader, soft!Joel, praise, f!oral, unprotected piv, belly bulge, use of a morning after pill, slight Professor kink, power imbalance. Joel can pick up reader, reader has hair. Pics are only for the mood, reader has no physical description.

Word count: 7,9k

A/n: this is for @undercoverpena ‘s April Showers Challenge. Big thank you to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing. Hope you all will enjoy it💖

MASTERLIST

You are rushing along an empty suburban street caught in a warm summer rain. Soaked strands of hair are sticking to your face and you brush them off, feeling your clothes getting wet too. Drops of water are trickling down your naked thighs as your skirt rides up and your shoes squelch with every hurried step.

The rain isn’t too heavy and you might have enjoyed it some other time but not now, not when you’re running late for your lesson at Professor Miller’s house. You could have waited it out under a tree but by the look of it, the pouring won’t stop soon.

You didn’t want to make Professor Miller wait. He is already doing you a huge favor, tutoring you a few hours a week in preparation for another year at college.

You decided to switch majors and, being a good friend of your mother, Professor Miller agreed to help you so you could catch up on what you had missed and get more confident in the new field.

Frankly you wouldn’t be late if you hadn’t been running circles in your room, trying to decide what to wear. Of course, you had a crush on Professor Miller. He was handsome, intelligent, nice and much older than you. But you’d never act on it because you couldn’t even imagine him looking at you like that. So you weren’t choosing anything to attract him that day. All you wanted was to look nice. You always wore formal clothing out of respect for him. One time you put on a band tee and a pair of ripped jeans for your lesson and felt terribly out of place next to the perfect Professor Miller. After that you swore to yourself to look presentable at his lessons.

You’re looking very far from presentable when Professor Miller opens the door to you now. Yet there’s not a trace of displeasure in his warm gaze.

“Oh, sweetheart, you’re soaked!” he exclaims, eyes widened behind his black-rimmed glasses.

“Forgot my umbrella, so sorry,” you mumble, stepping inside. You take off your wet shoes and put on the slippers you always wear in his house. Seeing that you’re dripping water on the floor, you silently curse.

As a striking contrast to you Professor Miller looks impeccable. Beautiful dark curls are combed back, a black sweater over a white dress shirt and black slacks make him look like he’s on a red carpet rather than in a suburban house on a Saturday.

He rushes away, mumbling something about towels, and you peek into the hall mirror to check the damage.

What you see makes you want to jump out of the window - your mascara is running, the hair’s wet and disheveled but what makes your heart drop to your stomach is your white blouse, soaked, stuck to your torso and completely see-through. Your chest is fully exposed except for your white lacy bra which isn’t much help either as you can definitely see your nipples.

Your hands dart to cover yourself but you don’t want to attract more attention to it, so you try to cross your arms over your breasts as casually as possible.

“Here.” You jerk, hearing Professor Miller’s beautiful voice and take a towel from him with a quiet ‘thank you.’

“Can I use the bathroom?” You ask, hugging the towel close to your chest.

“Of course, take your time. Join me in the office when you’re ready.”

You love Professor Miller’s guest bathroom. All of his house actually. It’s always neat and feels warm and cozy. Every piece of furniture seems thought through, the colors are rich but calming and you often find yourself wishing to stay here longer.

You clean your face up and dry yourself as well as you can. Your hair is still damp, but the skirt is not that wet. On the other hand your blouse still makes you wanna cry. At some point you contemplate asking Professor Miller for a spare shirt but this seems very inappropriate.

So you take a deep breath and decide that you can cover your almost exposed breasts with a book or something else.

You walk to the office and hastily join Professor Miller at his desk. A cup of hot tea is waiting for you next to a stack of books.

“Take a seat, sweetheart,” he says, patting the chair next to him and you plop down awkwardly, trying to hide your indecency. “Drink this. It’ll help you to get warm.” His gaze slides over you fast, not sticking to anything in particular, and you ease up a little.

He starts the lesson by checking your homework and explains your mistakes. You nod but hardly listen to him. So close to Professor Miller you feel disappointed in yourself, looking like an idiot who forgets to check the weather before leaving the house.

A light breeze hits your back and you shiver.

“Oh, I’ll close the window.” Professor Miller rushes to stand up, but you stop him with a hand on his arm. As if electrified by the feeling of his firm muscles under your touch, you dart your hand back, as your cheeks burn and you say,

“It’s ok. I love the sound of rain.”

“But you must be cold? Here, take my cardigan.” You object but he doesn’t listen, grabbing it off his chair and putting it over your shoulders.

“Thank you,” you breathe out, wrapping yourself in it as his scent envelops you. He smells of vanilla and cardamom and you can’t help but take a deep breath of him. He smiles, but you don’t notice it.

A couple of times during the lesson Professor Miller seems to lose his train of thought and you blame your look for it. He must be thinking that you look like a stray wet dog and your mood gets worse.

When he stands up to get a book from his home library you use the pause to apologize,

“I’m sorry again for looking like this. I should have waited the rain out but I was running late.”

He turns to you, standing at the wall full of books, and shakes his head, a warm smile on his handsome face,

“What are you talking about? You look great.”

“Ehm…I doubt it. I bet I’ve left a puddle in your hall like a wet dog.”

He chuckles, then grabs the necessary book and returns to the desk. He sits down and turns slightly towards you. His knee touches your naked thigh and you press your legs together, feeling the tingling between them. With a new wave of embarrassment overtaking you, you close the cardigan over your chest. He doesn’t look down but instead searches for your eyes.

“You look amazing, sweetheart, you always do. And I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. It’s just rain.”

The sun peeks through the clouds for a second, and when its golden rays fill the room, you notice how beautifully Professor Miller’s eyes sparkle behind the glasses when the light shines on them. It takes your breath away and you lower your gaze with a smile. His praise makes you feel warm and fuzzy and your heart sings at the sincerity in his voice.

“Thank you.” Your quiet words are barely audible because of the sound of the rain outside.

Professor Miller takes a deep sigh. “Sometimes when I look at you…I wish I was younger.”

Your jaw nearly hits the floor as you look up at him and stumble, “W- what… why? Really? Why?”

He chuckles. “Yeah, my back wouldn’t give me so much grief.”

You’re nodding with a fake smile, disappointed by his answer. He’d never look at you this way, in a different way. He’s perfect and you’re …well, you. He interrupts your self-deprecation saying softly, “Sweetheart, you worry too much. You, young people, don't understand how lucky you are. You have the whole life ahead of you, you’re free of regrets, sorrows. And the youth passes so quickly.”

You’re staring at him now, lips half parted, and then suddenly blurt out, “I am afraid. Almost all the time.”

“Of what? Why?” He asks, looking concerned.

“I don’t know. Of… everything.”

You turn slightly to him on the chair but quickly avert your gaze and stare back at the open window. The thrumming of the rain outside makes it easier to talk, as if it is accompanying your words.

“I’m afraid of my future. How wonderful it can be or how unhappy I might become. I study hard thinking …wishing the result will give me happiness but what if it doesn’t. I worry about my future career, but I’m not even sure I want it. I.. I don’t know what I want. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

You feel wetness coating your eyes and glance at him. He’s looking at you with intent, his brows slightly furrowed in thought.

You sniff, turning back to the desk, and stare at your fingers fumbling with the corner of Professor Miller’s cardigan.

“Sweetheart, no one knows what the fuck they’re doing.”

Your head whips up and you gawk at him with widened eyes. You’ve never heard him swear and never thought you ever would. He smiles, as if finding your reaction amusing.

“I might look all put together but I’m just like you. Scared, unsure… hell, we all are. No matter the age, I doubt it ever goes away,” he says placing his heavy hand on your shoulder, giving it a light squeeze, “But you can try to focus on the present, enjoy the moment, enjoy yourself.”

The sadness in your eyes makes him chuckle bitterly, “My intent was to help but it seems like I’ve done the opposite.”

“No, it’s fine. I appreciate you telling me this but I doubt I can do that.“

He watches you for a few moments and suddenly his face lights up and a charming lopsided smile twists his lips. You almost giggle at how mischievous and joyful he looks.

“I know what we should do.” He gets up and offers you his hand.

You look up at him confused but so much joy is radiating from him, you can’t say ‘no’. You take his hand and your whole body vibrates with skin on skin contact. You’re overwhelmed by his and your confession, by the unexpected turn your lesson took, and your heart is fluttering in your chest.

You follow him to the living room, your hand in his, and come up to the French windows which lead to the back yard. He lets go of your hand and you fix his cardigan that’s slipping off your shoulders.

Professor Miller opens the windows and a flow of humid slightly cold air rushes into the room and you wrap the cardigan tighter around your torso. The rain got heavier and you see little puddles on the patio.

He turns to you and says, louder than usual, so you could hear through the drumming of the shower.

“You know what I want to do now? What will make me happier?”

He starts walking backwards out to the wet patio and you open your mouth and giggle,

“Oh my god, Professor! What are you doing?”

He shoots you a wink and steps under the heavy rain. Then he tilts his head up, closing his eyes and exposing his face to the drops, falling from the sky.

“Please, come back inside!” You walk up to him, still standing under the cover of the roof. You place your hand on his shoulder and grab him lightly. “Come back inside, you’ll get cold. I’m not sad anymore, I promise.”

Just a few moments under the downpour are enough to drench him and when he looks at you, his glasses are all wet, curls are stuck to his forehead, his sweater is soaked.

“Do you like walking in the rain, sweetheart?”

“Well, sometimes yeah, I guess, but…”

“Great!”

With that, he grabs your hand on his shoulder and pulls you out onto the wet grass. You gasp, feeling the rain drops on your face and body again, your clothes and slippers getting wet slowly but surely. You try to get back inside but he quickly closes the windows and stands in front of you, not letting you through.

“Come on, sweetheart, enjoy this summer rain with me.”

“I will but maybe inside the house?” you plead, trying to cover your head with your hands.

“And where's the fun in that? C’mon,” he returns your pleading gaze with his own, placing his hands on your shoulders, “Let’s enjoy the moment. Do what you want. Don’t worry about the future. Live now.”

His hands leave your shoulders and he steps up closer, making you walk further from the cover of his house. Watching him prowl towards you like that, with a charming smile, his hands in the pockets of his slacks, sends a surge of arousal through your core and you feel yourself getting wet not only from the rain. You stop and he does too, an arm length from you.

You two are standing in the middle of the backyard, smiling at each other, while the heavy rain is soaking your clothes, drawing wet paths down your faces.

You follow his lead from a few moments ago, looking up and closing your eyes. You feel the drops caressing your skin, kissing your eyelids, nose, lips and then sliding down your neck. For a moment you let go of your fears and hopes that weigh on you rather than motivate you and just feel, taking a deep breath.

When you open your eyes a few moments later, there’s something different about the way Professor Miller is looking at you. His cheer is gone and he’s serious again but not in his usual ‘I’m a professor’ way. His gaze is focused on you, dark eyes tracing your features with quiet hunger.

“What would you like to do right now?” He asks you, tilting his head to the side. The answer comes to you like lightning and you act on it immediately.

You take a step, reach up and kiss him. It’s just a peck but you stay there for a few seconds pressing your wet lips to his.

He breathes in sharply against your mouth and the realization of what you’ve just done hits you like a freight train. You part from him and step back, your eyes filled with terror.

You’re staring at each other for a few long moments, only the sound of rain and your pounding heartbeat breaking the silence. You open your mouth to dump all possible apologies on your tutor but you have no time to do it because in the next moment Professor Miller kisses you.

One hand on your neck, the other on your arm he’s kissing you, keeping you close, but not grabbing you. You can stop it any second. You don’t. You revel in the feeling of his lips gently caressing yours. They taste like rain. His thumb is sliding along your jaw and your pussy aches with need. You’re cold from the rain but burning up inside for him at the same time. A shiver runs through your body and his lips leave yours.

“Let’s go back inside. You are freezing,” he whispers, pressing his forehead to yours. You curse your body for interrupting the most beautiful moment of your life but follow him when he takes your hand in his and leads you back into the house.

You’re dripping on his carpet in the living room until Professor Miller brings towels and you dry yourselves. He takes off his sweater and you swallow loudly when he rolls up the sleeves of his white shirt exposing his big forearms. His tousled wet curls take your breath away. One curl falls on his forehead and your heart hurts from how handsome he looks. He places his glasses on the coffee table and asks you,

“Would you like to change? I can give you my shirt. Or find something of Sarah.”

After discarding his soaked cardigan, you look down and see your sheer wet blouse sticking to your breasts but you don’t feel uncomfortable or embarrassed any more. You shake your head, wanting him to see you, all of you. The realization makes you gush and your pussy tingles, making you press your thighs together.

“God, you’re shivering, you can get sick,” he fusses over you and he’s right, you’re trembling all over, but not only because of the rain-drenched clothes. Your whole world is upside down. You shoved your crush on Professor Miller into the furthest corner of your heart, being scared of it. You were always good at limiting and controlling yourself, at making yourself feel less, not acting on your desires.

Until today.

Shaking legs bring you to the sofa and you sit down. He takes a blanket from the side of it and wraps you in it, rubbing your arms and back over the material, trying to warm you up.

He’s so close to you. You stare at his wet face, lashes stuck together, lips shining with the rain or your saliva or both.

It feels like a dream that you don’t want to end. His hands leave you and you look at each other. His gaze slides down to your lips and your heart flutters. You wonder if you have enough courage to kiss him again.

Suddenly you hear a loud thunder and jump in your seat. You look around and it’s like you finally woke up. Your heart freezes at the thought, ‘You kissed Professor Miller! You kissed your fucking tutor! Your mom’s friend! Fuck!’

Your head whips back to him. “I’m so sorry,” you mumble, trying not to burst into tears, your throat getting squeezed with embarrassment. “I…I don’t know why I’ve done it. I must have lost my mind. I’m sorry. Thank you for taking pity on me, Professor.”

His hand darts to your shoulder but he swiftly puts it away.

“First of all, call me Joel, please …and what do you mean by pity? I didn’t take pity on you. I acted inappropriately but… I wish you could see what I see when I look at you.”

You drop your head and murmur under your breath, “A complete mess?”

He sighs and takes your hand in his. His big warm palm engulfs it completely and you look up at him, not being able to contain yourself anymore, as tears well up in your eyes. His voice is warm and soft and so pleasant you wish he’d never stop talking.

“You’re a wonderful young woman. Intelligent, kind, capable of anything you’ll set your mind to. Your future is bright, I'm sure of it.”

You smile and tears roll down your cheeks.

“And you’re very beautiful. I hope someone tells you this.”

You sniff, eyes downcast, and shake your head, making your tears fall. Joel gently takes your chin between his fingers and tilts your head up so you would look at him. His face is blurry with all the wetness in your eyes. He cups your cheek and brushes a tear away with his thumb.

“Well, then let me do it. You’re the most beautiful woman I know.”

Your heart stops. At least you think so because what you’re hearing can not be real. You died and went to heaven otherwise it’s unbelievable that Professor Miller… Joel is telling you this.

You’re gawking at him and he chuckles before taking his hand away.

“I love that I can see all your emotions on your face.”

You hastily close your mouth and try to collect yourself while a whirlwind of feelings swirls in your stomach.

“And I don’t regret kissing you.”

You search his face for a sign of a joke, but find none. He looks and sounds serious and you feel yourself lean closer to him.

“Me neither, Joel,” you whisper, his name sweet on your tongue, and lean forward a little. It takes him a second to meet you halfway and kiss you. He takes the lead and moves his lips slowly and gently against yours but you feel that he’s holding himself down by the way he breathes, the way his lips move faster and with more vigor until he stops himself. You feel hot wrapped in the warm blanket so still glued to him you unwrap yourself and it pools at your feet.

“You’ll get cold,” he mumbles against your lips and you shake your head no, still kissing him. You don’t want it to end so you desperately cling to him with only your lips touching.

Another thunder shakes the house and you feel his hand on your naked knee. You part your legs and scoot closer to him and his thumb brushes your inner thigh. Your whole body erupts with chills.

“Sweetheart,” he whispers as his lips leave yours, “Your legs are ice cold.” He puts his hands on your arms, “And you’re still shivering, poor thing.”

You’re about to explain that it’s not because of the rain or wet clothes, at least not only. It’s him, his plush lips on yours, his warm hands gliding over your skin, his eyes looking at you so differently from what you’re used to. All of it makes every cell in your body vibrate, your stomach churn, your core burn with arousal.

But before you can tell him all that, he says something that makes you stop in your tracks, “Would you like to take a bath?”

For the hundredth time today you’re staring at him with your mouth agape.

“H-here? In your house?” you stumble, blinking at him.

“Yes. There's a nice tub upstairs in my bedroom.” He hears himself and hastily adds, “It’s not like that. Ehm… You can take it and I’ll wait for you here. I’m afraid you’ll get sick because of my carelessness.”

His beautiful brown eyes are pleading you to agree. You don’t want to leave him but your sodden cold clothes make the offer of a hot bath sound better with every second.

So you nod and he beams at you. In a second he’s walking upstairs and you’re trailing behind him, your hand in his. He leads you to his bedroom and you quickly look around, seeing that it’s perfect like the rest of his house, simple but cozy. You follow him to the en-suite bathroom and he starts the water. He explains to you how to make it colder and hotter like you’ve never seen a bathtub before but you don’t get offended or annoyed. He’s nervous, it’s visible and it makes you jittery too. Suddenly the idea of being alone without him makes you sad and your heart aches.

The tub fills up fast and while he’s telling you about the bath salts and towels you interrupt him,

“Can you stay?”

Now it’s his turn to gawk at you.

“When…until it’s full?” He asks and you shake your head.

“No, when I take it. Can you stay with me?”

He swallows loudly and takes a step closer to you.

“Sweetheart, I’ve crossed so many lines today. I’m not sure I can cross this one.”

“You told me to do what I want right? And I want you to stay with me, Joel,” you say louder, trying to feign confidence, before taking a step to him.

“Are you sure?”

You look deep into his eyes, so close that you can see your own reflection in them and reply,

“I'm not sure about anything in my life… but I'm sure that I want this,” you say, drawing an invisible line between your hearts with your finger, and add, “Really badly.”

His dark eyes are darting between yours as if he’s looking for a trace of doubt in them. He won’t find any. He’s reading your features and they probably tell him something because in the next moment he slowly leans to you. The kiss is soft but the more you taste him the more confident you get.

So you press your body to his and he groans when your lower belly touches his bulge. Your heart and pussy flutter when you realize how big and stiff he is. Is it because of you? A part of you can’t believe a man like him can be interested in you but his body can’t lie.

“Sweetheart,” he whispers, pulling away but, in an attempt to interrupt something you don’t want to hear, you raise your hands and start unbuttoning your wet blouse.

Joel’s eyes are glued to your fingers, working their way up your top. Soon your belly is revealed, then sternum and your breasts, covered by the bra. You slide the blouse off your body and it pools at your feet.

“You’re so beautiful,” Joel whispers, as his hand slowly lifts to your breast and he brushes your nipple through the thin lace of the bra with his thumb. It’s already perked up from all the kissing and the cold and you whimper, your body vibrating with desire at the slightest touch of his big hand.

You get impatient and take your skirt off too. You’re standing in front of him wearing nothing but a lace white set and Joel growls like a hungry wolf. You bite your lip, hearing the sound of his desire for you.

His gaze slides from your face to your breasts, belly, hips, legs and up to your face again. He seems to make a decision because soon he starts unbuttoning his shirt too.

“I’m going to hell,” he mumbles as the expanse of his chest is revealed to you and you salivate seeing his golden skin, soft belly, happy trail that leads down. Your clit twitches when he unzips his pants.

Soon his clothes join yours on the floor and he places his hands on your waist. You try not to look at the huge tent in his boxers but fail miserably. He smiles and pulls you into his arms and you hug his middle. He’s big and hot against your cold skin and your whole body erupts in goosebumps.

“Still shivering, poor thing, let’s get you into the hot water,” he whispers and his hands slide to your back. He searches for your eyes and after you look up and nod, he unclasps your bra and takes it off you.

His chest is heaving when his gaze moves down to your naked breasts but he doesn’t stop stripping you. With his fingers hooked in your panties, he waits for your permission and then slides them down. They fall on the floor around your feet and you step out of them.

His eyes are completely obsidian now and his hands dart to you but he stops himself.

“Could you help me?” You ask and turn around before offering him your hand. He takes it and you step into the full tub. The water feels scolding hot at first but all your senses are focused on Joel and you lower yourself into the hot water. Sitting in the middle of the tub you look at his bulge, which is at your eye level now.

“Join me, please,” you plead and he mumbles soft “yeah,” before pulling his boxers down. His cock springs free and your pussy buzzes with anticipation and fear because he’s really big and thick.

Joel gets in the water behind you, his legs bent at the knees by your sides. He puts his hands on your shoulders and pulls you to lie down against his chest.

You rest your back on his warm broad chest and he wraps his arms around your waist. You feel his cock twitch against your lower back and a quiet whimper escapes your lips, “Joel.”

He almost purrs hearing how you said his name. You feel his heart beating hard at your back. His body, so big and strong, envelops you, warms you up better than the hot water around you and you feel like it’s where you belong, in his arms, reveling in his warmth, his softness, ready to give him anything he’d wish for.

The ache in your pussy gets harder to ignore and you squirm between his legs. He takes a sharp breath and bucks his hips against your butt. You feel his lips at your temple as he plants a kiss there.

“You’re so hot,” he praises you as his hands slide up your body and he cups your breasts. He palms your pebbled nipples and you moan, pressing your thighs together.

Then you tilt your head to the side and back and look up at Joel. His face is twisted in pleasure, eyes blown, and he lowers his head and catches your lips with his. This kiss is different from the ones you’ve shared before. Craving, impatience in every stroke of his lips, every swipe of his tongue, and you drown in pleasure of his caress.

Suddenly it’s not enough for the both of you. Without saying a word to each other you sit up and turn around while he helps you shift in the tub with his hands on your waist. You’re facing him now, standing on your knees, and he takes in your wet naked body before whispering,

“Let me make you feel good, sweetheart.”

You breathe out a soft ‘ok’ and in a second he lifts you up and sets you on the edge of the tub in the corner. You lean your back against the cold tile wall and shiver. Joel notices your reaction and starts pouring the water over you so you’d warm up again.

When you say that you’re not cold, he stands on his knees in front of you, his hands planted on the edge of the tub by your sides. He cages you in between his broad torso and the wall and your pussy pulsates for him.

“Could you spread your legs for me, please?” he says, sitting down on his heels, as his chest is pressed to your knees.

You slowly do what he asked and your pussy blooms for him, folds opening up to his view and Joel’s breath hitches and he llicks his lips at the sight.

“Oh, my,” he mumbles and glances up at you, "You have the most gorgeous pussy, sweetheart." That word on his lips sends a fiery wave through every inch of your body and you whimper, when he moves into the space between your legs, spreading your thighs wider with his broad torso.

His plush lips parted, eyes blown and restless, he takes you in - his gaze hastily runs over your face, breast, belly, cunt as if he can't get enough of you. He reaches for your face and kisses you deeply and passionately. His hand brushes against your aching pussy and you moan.

"My sweet girl," he whispers against the corner of your mouth and his soft lips move down to your neck, collar bone, chest. He's swirling his tongue over your nipple, his hand kneading your breast while you are running your fingers through his damp curls.

Soon he gets to your pussy and when his hot lips touch you there you almost come against his mouth.

“You’re sweet all over, honey,” he mumbles against your twitching clit, hunching down. Then he grabs your ankle in the water and lifts your leg.

“Put your foot on the edge, yeah, like that, good girl.” You’re completely exposed to him now but your desire shuts all your insecurities and you ache to show him every inch of you without any shame.

Soon you’re moaning and writhing on the edge of the tub as his tongue is dancing over your clit before his lips close around it and he gently sucks on the bud, keeping your folds spread with his thick fingers.

You’ve never felt more euphoric in your life and he approvingly hums against your pussy, when you whisper his name again and again, alternating it with whimpers and soft ‘yeah’s’.

“Damn, I can come just from hearing you, honey. What are you doing to me?” He says, looking up at you from between your thighs, eyes glistening. He looks completely pussy-drunk and it must be taking everything from him not to spill his seed into the bath water right now.

You give him a little apologetic smile and he continues pleasuring you. Joel’s caresses are slow and gentle, he’s almost edging you but when you start moving your hips, searching for more friction, he reads your signal immediately.

“Need more, sweetheart?”

You nod eagerly and with his hands on your inner thighs he starts devouring your pussy, his growls full of lust. The flat of his tongue is rubbing against your clit, then the warm muscle plunges into your crying hole as his nose nudges your clit and soon you’re screaming, shaking with the hardest climax of your life.

Joel laps at your juices, generously dripping into his greedy mouth as you’re digging your fingers into his broad shoulders, clenching around his tongue when he slides it inside you.

“Yeah… like that. Oh, my good girl,” Joel mumbles, his words muffled by your pussy.

When your climax dissipates, you rest your head back against the wall and he stays between your legs, peppering kisses on your inner thighs. His palms glide up and down your legs as you’re catching your breath.

When you look down, your eyes well up with tears when you see this big, gorgeous, intelligent, hot man on his knees in front of you. A voice inside your head reminds you that he’s much older, your parents will kill you, you’re fucked. But you push all your fears away when he gently helps you get back in the water and sets you on his lap.

Straddling him, you look into his eyes. You’re feeling a myriad of emotions but the brightest one makes your heart sing - you finally feel like yourself, confident, free, happy.

“Thank you,” you whisper with a smile, grateful for the pleasure but also for the self assurance he gave you.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” He returns your smile with the warmest grin and pulls you into his embrace before kissing you. His big arms envelop your torso as you melt against his chest.

His cock twitches between your bodies and the fire in your core ignites with a new force.

“I want you inside,” you whisper, nuzzling his neck.

“Oh, darling… I wish for nothing more but … I’m afraid to hurt you.”

You sit up straight and drop your gaze into the water. His cock looks painfully hard and huge and you take a sharp breath, imagining it piercing you.

“I wanna try,” you say with confidence.

He searches for any doubt in your eyes again and then nods. Joel helps you to stand on your knees in the bath, holding you steady with his hand on your hip, the other holding his cock at the base.

“Start slowly and if it hurts… stop any second, ok?”

You agree, positioning yourself right above his waiting cock and begin lowering your hips.

You feel his hot tip bump into your clit and, feeling a burst of pleasure, you grind against it a few times. You both moan at the sensation and Joel tightens his grip on your body.

His handsome face twisted in pleasure might be the most beautiful thing you’ve seen. You don’t tear your eyes off him, wishing the image got sealed in your memory forever.

You shift a little, nudge your hole with his fat head and start sinking on his throbbing member.

He’s big. Really big.

You widen your eyes as his length parts your folds and slides inside you, surprisingly easily thanks to your recent orgasm.

Joel leans back against the tub and watches your pussy swallow him in the water, his brows furrowed, half-lidded eyes set on the place where you two are slowly joining.

You lower yourself further as your walls spread, trying to accommodate his member inside you. It hurts a little but you’re so aroused you hardly notice it.

Joel moans when you’re finally flush with him, his cock filling your wet heat perfectly.

“Fuck, ohhh, fuck… I’m sorry for all the cursing, honey, but your pussy feels fucking incredible.”

You smile at the praise and clench around him making him squeeze his eyes shut.

“You’re not a virgin, are you?” he asks with his eyes still closed.

You shake your head, but hastily add ‘no’, realizing he can’t see you.

“I’ve had a boyfriend. But he dumped me pretty quickly.”

He looks at you, brows furrowed, as he hears a slight sadness in your voice.

“His loss, sweetheart,” he says, gently taking your neck between his palms.

His gaze slides down your body to your pussy.

“Hnggg, you’re so tight.”

“Sorry. “

“What? No, it’s .. Gosh, I can’t think straight when you …look like this, wrapped around my cock. I’m in heaven.”

His warm hand rises to your face and he cups your heated cheek. You nuzzle into it smiling against his palm. Then you move your face a little and when you feel his thumb at your lips you part them and take it into your mouth.

His cock throbs deliciously inside you, and he moans as your tongue swirls over his thick finger.

“Oh my god, you naughty thing. You’re going to be the death of me.”

You smile around his finger and roll your hips a little. You both almost scream at the sensation. His thumb slips out of your open mouth as a wave of pleasure rushes through you. You seem to feel his cock everywhere. You can’t stop now, not with the way his thick length massages your pussy on the inside, sending bolts of ecstasy through your body.

You start fucking yourself on his stiff cock and you both fill the room with groans and whimpers, adding them to the soft splashing of the tub water.

He tilts his head back and squeezes his eyes shut while you feel another climax building.

“Oh, Professor,” you moan and he groans, clenching his teeth,

“Don’t.”

“What?” You ask and bite your lip, seeing that he’s deep in the pits of lust just like you are.

“Because I won’t let you stop calling me that,” he groans and your heart sings at the implication of you two doing it again in the future.

Not giving him any respite you breathe out, “It feels so good, Professor,” and start bouncing on his throbbing cock.

Joel moans but then holds you down.

“Baby, are you on the pill? I can’t… I’m gonna come soon.”

“No,” you reply through panting and he furrows his brows,

“Shit… not sure I have condoms,” he says, his eyes darting between yours. He clears his throat and adds, “I haven’t been with anyone for …some time now.”

You feel like he wants to apologize and you shut him up with a kiss.

“It’s ok. I’ll get Plan B. I want…want it inside me,” you whisper against his lips and sit up, starting to move again. You roll your hips, feeling your clit rub against his soft belly, and whimpers escape your parted lips again and again.

“Fuck, look at you,” he mumbles, watching your body slowly move on him. He’s almost drooling as his palm slides from your neck to your chest, over the swells of your breasts, brushing against your erect nipples, caressing the soft skin of your belly. He dips his hand in the water and presses it to a lump right over your mound and moans,

“Oh, fuck, I can feel my cock right here… do you feel me deep, baby? Tell me.”

“Yes, Professor,”

“Shit, I’m not gonna last, gonna fill you up.”

Looking down, you see it, the bulge in your belly moving up and down, his cock inside you stretching your skin.

With a loud moan, you clench around him and it sends a chain reaction making your pussy vibrate and contract, as another climax starts shaking your body.

“Yeah, baby, just like that… squeeze my fat cock, my good fucking girl.”

Not being able to hold any longer, Joel erupts inside your core, jets of cum spurting against your walls. You feel hot from the water and his heated body and now there’s warmth inside you too, your pussy’s getting filled with him.

You’re fucking yourself on his exploding cock while he’s sucking on your neck, and then he holds you so tight, it gets difficult to breathe. Every cell in your body is screaming with pleasure and you wish this moment never passed, he was inside you forever, holding you close.

When you both feel your climaxes subside, Joel leans back against the wall and pulls you to lie on his chest. You stay like this for a few minutes, plugged by his cock and full of his seed. You breathe in the scent of his skin, your hands on his chest as he rocks you like a big strong wave, slowly breathing in and out. You feel an immense affection towards him, and your throat gets squeezed with upcoming tears. You try to hide them from him but when you sniff he gently cups your cheek and makes you look at him.

“Are you hurt? Did I hurt you?” he asks, looking you over with worry in his gaze.

“No, I’m just… I’m just happy. I’m sorry.”

You smile at each other until he takes your face in his big hands and plants kisses on your eyes, cheeks, nose, chin, lips. You giggle when his facial hair tickles your delicate skin and he laughs with you.

Your bodies relaxed, hunger satiated, you stay in the bath for a few more minutes while he’s pouring water with his hands over your shoulders to keep you warm.

When the temperature lowers, he gets out of the tub and brings you a big fluffy towel while you shamelessly watch him move naked and wet around the bathroom. He helps you to get up and you bite your lip when his cock twitches at the sight of your body on display for him. He clears his throat and starts gently drying your skin. The memory takes you back to him drying you in his living room, before you crossed the line with him and you marvel how much changed between now and then.

You feel happy for the first time in a long time but also scared of what happens next. What if he goes back to being just your tutor, what if he doesn’t want to see you at all, what if your parents find out… The thoughts rush through your mind and he reads your face again and asks, “What is it, sweetheart?”

You shake your head, driving away your fears. Joel wraps you in the towel and you gasp when he lifts you. He laughs, carrying you to his bedroom, and then lowers you gently on the bed.

“Get under the duvet, sweetheart.”

You listen to him and get comfortable in his bed. The sheets smell of him and you can’t help but gush again. He brings your clothes and you sit up reaching for them so you could put them on but he stops you.

“Stay here. I’ll go get you the pill,” he says and makes you lie back down. After getting dressed in a black t-shirt and jeans, Joel tucks you in and kisses you gently before leaving.

You hear his car drive off and fall into the comfort of his bed. You close your eyes for a second suddenly feeling tired.

You wake up from soft kisses to your forehead, cheeks, lips.

“I hate to wake you up, honey, but your parents are worried.”

You sit up rubbing your eyes and holding the duvet over your naked breasts. You see the pill and a glass of water on the nightstand and take it.

“They called?” You ask, swallowing Plan B.

“Yes, I told them you needed to do some extra exercises.”

You giggle but he looks upset. Your fears come back again.

“You regret it,” you whisper, as your eyes well up with tears.

In a second you’re in his big arms and he whispers against your cheek,

“Never, baby. I don’t. But I can’t help but feel guilty. I should know better. I feel like I’m robbing you of your time. You should be someone young, someone who can give you more.”

You search for his eyes and take his face in your hands.

“No, I don’t want anyone else. I want… I need you.”

You kiss him and pull him to lie over you on the bed. You’re making out holding each other close. The rain has stopped and you can hear birds chirping outside through an open window.

“Fuck.. I need to go,” you whine, parting from Joel and reaching for your clothes at the foot of the bed.

“Language, young lady,” he scolds you with a smirk. You bite your lip and purr with a sultry tone, “Sorry, Professor.”

You love how this word makes him shiver with arousal now.

He adjusts himself, cursing under his breath and his dark eyes are watching you while you’re giving him a little show while putting on your clothes - gliding your hands over your body, slowly slipping into your panties and bra. When you slide your arms into your already dry blouse, he gets up to button it up for you. Soon your lips gravitate towards each other and it takes a lot from you to part from him again.

You go downstairs and Joel offers to drive you home but you politely refuse.

“I’ll walk. I love the smell of the air after rain,” you smile ready to leave, standing at the door, “besides someone told me to enjoy myself more so I’m gonna follow his advice.”

You smile at each other and he gives you a farewell kiss, hugging you, before whispering in your ear, “My sweet girl. Thank you.”

You look deeply into his eyes and ask,

“See you on Thursday?”

“Yes, but you’re going to study.” Your widened sad eyes make him chuckle as he adds, “Among other things.”

You beam at him, peck his lips and walk out of the door, feeling wings behind your back.

*****

Thank you for reading!🌺

Comments and reblogs are very appreciated! 💖

Masterlist

Tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @survivingandenduring @missannwinchester @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @littlemisspascal

If you'd like to be tagged in my future fics, let me know!💕

[feyhunter78]

Think I'm Gonna Call it Off

Description: You have been Prince Aemond's secret for years now, but a certain visiting Stark opens your eyes to what could be.

Inspired by the line “think I’m gonna call it off, even if you call it love, I just wanna love someone who calls me baby.” From Good Luck, Babe by Chappell Roan

Part 2

This was ridiculous, you are a Lady of a fine house, virtuous, beautiful, intelligent, kind and your embroidery skills have been praised by Queen Alicent herself and yet here you sit waiting for Prince Aemond to return. To return and not spare you a single glance. Not until you are tucked away from the prying eyes of the court, until he is confident no one can hear your conversations.

You wonder if it is foolishness that keeps you sitting there, leaning against one of the many windows in the library, searching the skies for Vhagar’s great form set against the clouds.

You have rejected a number of suitors, worried your father and mother, made yourself seem all but undesirable in the eyes of the court, all because the prince swore that he would tell his mother. That he would announce to the whole of the realm that he loved you, and that you would be wed as soon as possible. He does not want a Valyrian wedding he said, he has no taste for it, he wants to honor you, honor his mother, and the Seven whom he worshiped.

“Lady y/n?” Lord Cregan Stark’s voice rolls through you like thunder, the deep baritone, the rouge northern brocade that made him pronounce your name just slightly different from everyone else, just enough that shamefully it makes you feel special.

You turn your head away from the towering window and give him a small smile. “Lord Stark, I did not expect to see you here.”

He returns your smile and leans against the wall; arms crossed over his chest.

Seven help you, he did have such strong looking arms, the sight of them never ceases to distract you. Even his thick tunic, and his dark-colored cloak could not hide them. Truly, everything about Lord Stark seemed strong. Queen Alicent said it is common of a Northmen, that they must be strong to survive the winters, while Lady Frey said it was the wolf’s blood in his veins. That all Starks had unnatural strength, speed, and stamina granted to them by the Old Gods. Neither woman’s explanation accounted for the man’s looks though.

Lord Stark is quite handsome, a strong jaw and sharp cheekbones with a close-cut beard, more stubble than a full beard though, and gray eyes like a winter storm. His dark hair is around Prince Aegon’s length, though often tied back and much better cared for. His lips are full and healed, having been cracked and dry from the drastic change in temperature on his trip down south. A small scar runs through the corner of them, on the right side, giving him a more roguish appearance. He said he had gotten it as a child, playing around with his father’s sword. And he was tall, so, so tall, towering over you in a way no man has before.

Then he laughs, the sound warming you to the bones, making a blush rise to your cheeks. “Do not tell me you think me a barbarian, as the others do. I thought you knew me better than that, little fox.”

The name he has graced you with never fails to make your heart stutter and disrupt any coherent thought you might have had. It is a reference to your house sigil, you know that. But the way he says it, how his accent wraps around each syllable, makes it seem far more…intimate than simply a friendly moniker given to you by a man who does not know your customs.

Aemond calls you his, or some sweet term of endearment in High Valyrian in private, sticking to Lady y/h/n in public. You wish he would use your name, you have told him time and time again, even the Queen and Princess Helaena use it. You have been at the Red Keep for nearly a decade now, been in the Princess’ inner circle of friends for almost as long, it would not seem strange to others.

“Lord Stark—”

“Cregan, or Lord Cregan if you must add the lord, as I have told you before.” He corrects you, but not unkindly, his lips curling up into a fondly exasperated smile.

“Lord Cregan, I did not mean to imply I believe that libraries were not your preferred place to spend your time, only that I thought you would be joining the other men on their hunt.”

He glances out the window towards the Kingswood. “And I would think you would be taking tea or sewing with the other ladies.”

You have been caught.

“Ah yes, well, as you know, Prince Aemond is to return today and Princess Helaena asked me to keep watch. She loves her brother very much but has to entertain the other ladies so could not watch for him herself.”

You pray Helaena will forgive you for involving her in a lie.

Cregan hums low in his throat and his eyes flicker to you, picking you apart. “Did she now?”

You nod, not trusting your own voice.

“The prince is lucky to have such a vision of beauty to return home to.” He says, running his eyes down your form, drinking in every detail with something akin to reverence? Though you know you must be seeing things. Cregan Stark would not look at you in such a way, there is no reason to.

“Princess Helaena is quite beautiful.” You agree, trying to keep an air of propriety around you even as your mind screams at you to flee for fear you will say something utterly stupid.

Cregan reaches out, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering for a moment caressing your cheek. “Aye, but she is not who I speak of.”

You? He means you?

You duck your head, cheeks warming once more. “You flatter me.”

He shifts forward, invading your space, the scent of forest air and woodsmoke filling your nostrils. “Is it flattery if it is true?” He is so close, still a respectable distance but close enough that you can reach out and touch him, can feel the warmth radiating from his skin.

“I believe that is a question for the maesters.” You tease lightly, your heart pounding in your chest.

“You are a smart girl, little fox, I am sure you can figure it out.” He teases back, a glimmer in his eyes that excites you.

No one teases you; no one jests or challenges you like Cregan does. You assume it is because they all know Prince Aemond has claim on you, or because you are a lady, but you are educated, and strong-willed, you enjoy a good challenge. You enjoy Cregan speaking to you like an equal.

“Truth is relative, as they say.” You offer, cocking your head innocently, barely able to keep a smile off your face.

“Aye, some say. Though your beauty is truth, relative or not. Surely you must know that.” He counters.

“Vanity is not a virtue.” You say, meeting his gaze. The storm gray of them has softened to a dove gray, mirth dancing within them.

“Neither is lying and yet…”

“Are you accusing me of lying, Lord Cregan?” You gasp in mock outrage.

“About knowing that your beauty is what every man dreams of returning home to? Yes.” He says, his tone light and blithe, but his words, and the way his eyes darken for a moment? It takes your breath away.

“Your beauty, little fox, is one that haunts men’s dreams, that keeps them fighting when they are the last standing. That they keep in their mind as they clash swords, traverse through snow and sea.” He continues, holding your gaze, voice no longer light, but heavy with intent and promise. “It is a beauty one wishes to see the moment they return home before all else, or any others. A beauty that should be admired in all lights and shadows. The setting of the sun and its rising, the summer days and winter nights, one to be cherished.”

You break away from his gaze, a twinge of sadness in your chest. Aemond has never spoken to you in such a way, he has waxed poetic about your beauty, flattered you, lavished you with sweet words, but it has never felt the same as Cregan’s did now. Guilt replaces the sadness, and you toy with the edge of your sleeves. You should not be engaging with Cregan in this way, it was not right, even if it made you feel…something. “You are too kind, My Lord.”

Cregan reaches for you, breaching what was proper, and taking your hand in his. They are so much larger than yours, so warm, so gentle. “Have I spoken out of turn?”

“No, no, I am just—I am a maiden of the South, Lord Stark, I am not used to such forwardness from a man I am not courting with.”

“Honesty, it is honesty, though I apologize for my forwardness.” Cregan says, subconsciously stroking the back of your hand with his thumb.

“Either way, I am not used to it.” You say heart calming with each stroke of his calloused thumb.

Cregan’s brows furrow. “I have heard tales of—the other noblemen, they speak highly of you. Of your beauty, your kindness, your wit, are they all struck dumb by your very being, is that why no one has praised you as you deserve?”

You feel you should say something about Aemond, but what could you truly say? There is no formal betrothal in place, he has not publicly staked his claim beyond a possessiveness that those who spent enough time in court could see. But nothing is ever outwardly stated.

You go to speak, but Cregan stops you. “My apologies, I should not have asked such a thing, how are you to know what lies within the minds of man?”

“You are correct, I do not know their minds.” You say instead and bury down any explanation involving Aemond and his invisible claim.

A dragon roar fills the air, the window vibrates with the force of the sound, and your eyes shoot back to the window. Prince Aemond is home.

“Or they fear the mind of one man and thus hold their tongues.” Cregan says, releasing your hand.

“The prince? I—he—we…it is not—” You cannot get the words out fast enough.

“I will take my leave.” He says, remaining for a moment searching your face until it seemed he had found what he is looking for, and left.

You watch him go, admiring the strength in his stride, when he turns back, a strange look in his eyes. “At the feast tonight, might I have a dance?” He asks.

“With me?” Your heart is pounding against your chest.

He nods.

Footsteps rush by the open library door, and you can hear Princess Helaena calling out to Prince Aemond.

You stand, smoothing out your skirts with shaky hands, why did he make you so nervous? Or is not nerves, but excitement? “Of course, Lord Cregan, I would be honored.”

“I will hold you to that.” Cregan smile, then he disappears down the hall, and you are left alone to hurry after the princess.

Aemond does not call for you until hours after he has returned. When you knock on the door to his chambers, dressed already for the feast, he bids you to enter in a soft voice, exhaustion tinging each word.

You hurry to his side, clasping one hand between your own. “My Prince, I cannot tell you how happy I am that you have returned safely.”

He uses his free hand to cup your cheek, that half smile, half smirk he wears so well on his well sculpted face. “I was only gone for a mere moon, and I was never in any danger, did you doubt your Prince, ñuha nūmio?”

“No, of course not, but…you would not tell me where you were going, no one would.” You say, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

“That is simply because it was not information you needed.” He says, brushing the pad of his thumb across your lips.

“But if I am to be your wife, would it not be prudent if I were to know where my husband is?”

Aemond’s eye, a brilliant amethyst, hardens, then he looks away and sighs. “Lady y/h/n I have told you patience is a virtue, and your virtue is what I adore most.”

You bite your lip, internally chastising yourself. You know better than to rush him. “My apologies.”

Aemond frees your bottom lip from between your teeth and brushes his lips across your forehead. “Do not take my words so harshly, your eagerness is quite endearing, and I to wish for us to be wed, but it is not yet time.”

You lean into his touch, “I understand.”

“How have you been amusing yourself while I was away, ñuha nūmio? Did anything exciting happen?” Aemond asks, his thumb resting beside the corner of your lip.

“Not much, it seems you had taken all the excitement with you. Though as you know Lord Stark’s arrival has caused quite a stir and now two moons later still is. Many ladies are jockeying for the position of Lady of the North.” You tell him, giggling at the memory of some of your friends’ actions.

“But not you?” Aemond asked, his tone making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

“No, I am yours, why would I wish to be Lady of the North?” You reassured him, brushing back a lock of silver hair from his face.

For a moment, you are struck with the feel of Cregan’s fingertips, rough and calloused but gentle against your skin. The warmth of his skin, the softness of his gaze, the earnestness of his words. What was he looking for when he stared into your eyes, when he took in every detail of your face?

“If you are too distracted, you may leave, My Lady.” Aemond says, the irritation in his voice drawing you from your thoughts.

“No, no, I am not, I am just so happy you have returned.”

Aemond hums in acknowledgement, dressed in his feast finery as well. “I have missed you.”

Your heart flutters. “I have missed you as well.”

He releases your chin to trail his fingers down the column of your neck. His cool touch causes goosebumps to follow in his wake, and he dips his head low to press his lips to your cheek, then begins to follow his fingers with his lips. “I have missed you, your voice, your smiles, your touch.”

You shiver in response, grabbing onto his doublet.

“Do not touch, you will wrinkle the fabric.” He warns, even as his hands grip your waist.

You remove your hands, clasping them behind your back.

“I will not be able to dance with you tonight, mother has brought another girl for me to try and charm.” He says, into your skin, his silver hair brushing against your exposed décolletage.

Your heart sinks. “Not even one dance?”

Aemond sighs and presses a final kiss to the hollow of your throat. “You know I detest it as much as you do, but it is my duty.”

You nod, blinking back the tears that threaten to appear on your waterline.

He smooths down your hair and turns you towards the door. “I will try to find time for one dance, but I cannot make any promises.”

His words lift your spirits, and you smile at him. “Thank you, Aemond.”

“Prince Aemond, we have guests tonight.” He reminds you, then he shuts the door, and you hurry back to your chambers.

The Great Hall is decorated beautifully, and you sit at your table with the other ladies of Helaena’s circle. A wine glass in hand as you watch Aemond dance with Cerelle Peake, her brown hair pinned up with a net of gold and sapphires, her umber gown flowing beautifully as she twirled.

“Come now, y/n, you will never be asked to dance with such a scowl.” Johanna Swyft says, poking your cheek goodnaturedly.

“No, she will never be asked to dance because the prince glares at anyone who tries.” Mina Redwyne says, clinking her glass against yours in silent sympathy.

Johanna shoots her a look. “Do keep your voice down, Mina.”

You take a long drink from your glass, emptying it, then setting it down, scanning the crowd for another servant. “Perhaps I do not wish to dance.”

“I am crushed to hear that Lady y/n.” Cregan’s presence makes every lady at your table sit up straight, and you turn to face him.

“Lord Stark.” You say, bowing your head in his direction.

He holds out a hand, and you remember how it nice felt, the phantom warmth still lingering. “I do believe you agreed to a dance, earlier today?”

“Lucky.” Mina hisses, as Johanna juts her elbow into your side to prod you up and out of your seat.

You stand, and take his hand, trying to ignore the twinge of pain in your side. “I did.”

Cregan leads you to the dance floor, and you can hear your friends giggling behind you, much to your utter embarrassment.

“Your friends seem quite encouraging.” Cregan says, barely holding back a laugh.

“When they learned I have no sisters, they decided that they would act as such, apparently that means acting in a most embarrassing way.” You say, falling into the rhythm of the dance.

“I knew you had brothers, but I did not know you were the only daughter, that must make you very precious in your father’s eyes.” Cregan ventures, his large, warm hand pressed to yours as you circle each other.

“I would like to think so.” You smile, your heart aches for a moment with homesickness. “He could not attend this feast, he is too ill to travel, my eldest brother is here on his behalf, accompanied by my second-eldest brother who is here to drink and presumably enjoy the Silk Streets.”

“I never had a taste for brothels.”

“Nor I.”

Cregan smiles and twirls you. “I thought not, for I have heard you are far too virtuous.”

You shrug. “It is more, I do not wish to spend the coin.”

Shock flashes across his face then he laughs, repeating your words quietly with a chuckle, and as you are spun back into his arms you cannot help but laugh as well.

“You are clever, little fox, I will miss you when I return home.” He says, his eyes searching you once more.

Your heart stops, and you trip over your feet. “You are leaving?”

His grip on you tightens as he helps you right yourself. “Aye, I have here for two moons, that is far too long, my people need me.”

You do not want him to leave, you will miss him dearly, his laugh, his expressions, his stories. You will miss the walks you had taken together, the discussions that ran late into the night, just outside your chambers, the men standing guard pretending they were not listening. The way he presented you with the pelts of animals he had hunted, regaling you with the tale of how he felled it. Who would challenge you now, who would make you laugh, would listen to your words, and respond as if you were an equal, as if your sex did not diminish your intelligence?

“When will you leave?” You ask, unable to keep your voice steady, so you spin away from him to give yourself a moment to smother your emotions.

Cregan pulls you back into his arms, trapping you with his steady gaze. “In a few days time.”

“Oh…” You manage to choke out, swallowing hard, your eyes on your feet.

“I have been meaning to tell you, there just never seemed to be a good time.” Cregan says sheepishly.

You nod, still staring at the floor. “Well, I will miss you.”

“I will miss you too, y/n,” he says softly, then he slips a finger under your chin and lifts it gently. “In all lights, in all seasons.”

Tears blur your vision, and you hastily blink them away, not even noticing he has said only your given name, no title attached. Cregan’s warm thumb catches any stray tears that fall, and you lean into his touch, desperate for more of that something he had made you feel before. That something you realize he was always making you feel, and that he is making you feel right now, though it is tinged with grief. “Cregan, I—”

“Lady y/h/n, I believe I promised you a dance.” Aemond’s voice is steel, ice, the frigid fear that ran through the veins of Vhagar’s victim, and you hurriedly wipe away any remaining tears plastering on a false smile, before you turn, Cregan’s other hand still on your waist.

You drop into a curtsy. “My Prince, that you did.”

Cregan’s hand lingers, and your heart lurches in your chest when the warmth of it is finally removed.

Another song has begun to play, one you love dancing with Aemond to. It allows for close movements and lingering touches that you always long for with him.

“I thought you did not wish to be the Lady of the North.” He says, his eyes picking you apart as Cregan’s did but there is a cold methodical feel to it that makes you feel utterly and horribly exposed.

“He was merely being kind, no one else had asked me to dance.” You protest, falling into the rhythm as you had before.

“No one else should, you are mine.” Aemond say, spinning you out, and then back in.

His hands burn through your gown, your skin, meeting bone, and before you would have loved it, relished the feeling, but now you feel they are too hot, your skin prickles uncomfortably.

“I like to dance; I do not get to dance when you are occupied, and you are often occupied.” You say quietly, your head bowed ever so slightly.

“I had them play your favorite song, as a reward for your patience.” He says, ignoring your words. “Do you like it?”

“I do, thank you.” You smile and raise your head, hoping to catch his eye and find it brimming with affection. That would soothe your wounded heart, would banish the grief you feel at Cregan leaving.

Instead, his eye is elsewhere, you follow its gaze to see it land on the Peake girl. You do not blame her, do not hate her, though your blood turns to fire in your veins, and you brace yourself for what you are going to say next.

“When are we going to be wed, I have been patient for many years, and you never tell me when my patience will be able to end.” You say, holding your chin high. You are not a Peake, but you still have pride.

His eye flicker back to you, his grip tightening. “Are you truly asking this now?”

“Yes. Yes, I am, because I am tired of waiting, tired of watching as you charm others, tired of being shunted to the side because even though you will not claim me, no one else is allowed to.” You can no longer keep your emotions contained. “I want to be happy Aemond, I want to be happy with you, but I am not happy.”

“Not everything is about your happiness, Lady y/h/n.” Aemond snaps.

You reel back as if you have been struck. “I did not say it was. You have been the one saying you wished to marry me, promising me you would tell the whole of the realm how deeply you care for me. I have done nothing else but dote on you and be patient.”

Guilt flashes across his face, and he reaches for you, but you push his hands away. “It is not so simple.”

“Do you see my face in your dreams, does it keep you fighting, keep you marching on, am I the first person you wish to see when you return home, do you wish to see me in all lights, in all seasons?” You throw Cregan’s words in Aemond’s face and wait for a response.

Aemond laughs, taking your hands, and bringing you back into the dance. “You have picked up a new book of poetry, I see.”

You cannot find it in yourself to be angry, the shock settling in, muffling everything until it is as if you are floating underwater. The rest of the night passes that way, you go through the motions, avoiding Cregan, your friends, shooting you concerned looks.

Then the feast ends, guards escort those too drunk to find their chambers, all others dispersing to their places for the night, or into Fleabottom for more revelry.

You try to sleep, but it will not come, Cregan and Aemond’s words echoing in your sleepless mind, until finally you throw off your blankets and wrap a robe around your nightshift.

You creep through the halls, no true direction in mind, letting your feet take you where they wished, when a flicker of umber catches your eye. Pressing yourself behind a pillar, you wait a moment then peek out.

“Lord Stark, might I be allowed to enter?” Cerelle Peake’s voice is soft, as was required for the late hours.

“Lady Peake, might I ask why you wish to enter my chambers?” Cregan asks, his words thick with sleep. His hair is loose, his night shift exposing his broad chest.

“I thought perhaps you might enjoy some company.” She says, as she takes a step towards him, moving to run a finger down his chest.

Cregan catches her hand and gently returns it to her side. “I do not wish for your company, Lady Peake. Please return to your chambers quietly, and I will not speak with your father about this.”

Cerelle scoffs and turns on her heel, storming down the hallway. You wait until Cregan’s door closed then follow her.

Halfway there, you know where she was going, you have walked these halls many times. Not wanting to further your own pain, you turn back to your own chambers, but your feet disobey you, and you find yourself in front of Cregan’s door.

You knock before you could stop yourself and the door swing open, a tired and angry Cregan standing before you. “Lady Peake, I do not need any comp—” His words die on his lips as he realizes it was you and not Cerelle. “Y/N?”

“All those things you said, about my beauty, about me, did you mean them? Truly?” Tears prick at the backs of your eyes, your chest tight, your bottom lip trembling.

Cregan rubs the sleep from his eyes. “Do not tell me you woke me only to hear more flattery.”

A sob escapes your lips. “I thought you said it was truth, not flattery.”

Cregan snaps awake, pulling you into his arms. “Little fox, I am sorry, I was half asleep, yes, yes, it is truth.”

You cling to him, gripping his night shirt, your face buried in his chest as you sob, every fear, every pain spilling out into his warm embrace. “Tell me you meant it, that you see me in your dreams, that you want me, in all lights, all seasons, that I am not destined to wait forever for someone to love me.”

“I love you, y/n, I love you, you do not need to wait, I will tell you as many times as you desire. I meant it, all of it, you haunt my dreams, you plague my waking thoughts, I want you in at any time, in any manner, or light, or moment I can have you.” He says, his voice is steady, and you can feel the vibrations of it deep in his chest, alongside the sound of his beating heart.

“I want to go with you to Winterfell, I want to be your Lady of the North, or even just your mistress if my house is not a good enough match, Cregan I do not care. I love you and all I care about is that we are not parted, that we are never parted, I do not think I will be able to breathe if we are parted.” You confess, looking up at him afraid to see what you saw in Aemond’s eye.

Cregan cups your face and kisses you, the taste of honeyed ale on his tongue, his hands warm as he keeps you close, using his foot to kick the door closed so he can press you against it.

Now in the safety of his chambers he breaks the kiss, your breaths intermingling. “You will not be a mistress, you will be my wife, none will come before you.”

“Will you tell your people, will they know?” You ask, your lips brushing against his with each word.

“I will wake the whole Red Keep to announce it now if you wish.” He says, his forehead resting against yours.

You reconnect your lips with his, his stubble brushing against your skin, but you pay it no mind, letting Cregan devour you, his hands moving into your hair, as you loop your arms around his neck, keeping him close.

He groans against you, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips, delving in when you part them and exploring every inch of you. “My little fox, my y/n, my wife, my beautiful, clever wife.” He presses the words into your skin, heated lips trailing down to your pulse point.

“Husband.” You sigh, tilting your neck further exposing yourself to him, his teeth sinking into the skin claiming you as his own.

“Say it again for me, my wife, tell me who I am.” He breaths, sucking, and nipping at your neck, returning to darken the marks between creating new ones.

“You, Cregan, my husband.” You say, eyes snapping open when he releases you and stalks over to the window.

He threw it open and stuck his head out, shouting. “Y/N Y/H/N, is to be my wife.”

You rush forward and pull him from the window with a scandalized giggle. “Cregan it is the middle of the night.”

“Then at the very least a few guards heard.” He says, pulling you close and kissing you again, in full view of the window, the moon, anyone else who might look up, and it is exactly as you want it.

I lied in the comments imma do a part two I’ve given into the peer pressure stay tuned my loves!!!

HOTD taglist: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @svtansdaddyx, @fan-goddess, @dc-marvel-girl96, @shintax-error, @bellameshipper, @the141bandicoot, @the-phantom-of-arda, @haydee5010, @partypoison00, @serrhaewin, @issshhh, @pax-2735, @malfoytargaryen, @sahanna, @dellalyra, @mxrgodsstuff, @jkhomes, @unusual-raccoon, @boofy1998, @kravitzwhore, @caribbeangel, @krispold, @issshh, @afro-hispwriter, @ryswritingrecord, @prettykinkysoul, @elissanatok, @sahvlren, @its-sam-allgood, @happinessinthbeing, @8e-h-e8, @feyres-fireheart, @just-emmaaaa, @crazylokonugget, @hedahobbit98, @devils-blackrose, @mercedesdecorazon, @snh96, @imjustboredso, @izzicle, @hiatuswhore, @aslanvez, @devils-blackrose, @yentroucnagol, @queenofshinigamis, @partyposion00, @cryptidsrcool, @jennifer0305

[yanderes-galore]

Can I request platonic Mewtwo hc’s? Maybe Mewtwo could also communicate with its trainer through telepathy, similar to the anime.

Ohhh, Mewtwo could be fun! Sorry for the long wait :)

Overprotective! Mewtwo Concept

Pairing: Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Overprotective behavior, Manipulation, Mind reading, Violence, Murder, Blood, Slight gore, Forced companionship.

Before meeting you, Mewtwo spent most of its life in isolation.

It was created from Mew's DNA to be a weapon... a powerful Pokemon devoid of compassion.

When it escaped the labs, creating destruction where ever it went, it fled into one of the deepest caves in the Kanto region.

Mewtwo didn't expect to be found... It didn't want to be found.

Humans only caused trouble....

But then, years later, he met you.

You were Kanto's newest "Champion" who had heard rumors of a rare Pokemon deep in Cerulean Cave.

Once you managed to surf your way through to the cave and crawl deep within... you were greeted with Mewtwo.

Mewtwo wasn't fond of you, the idea of humans still finding it down here irked it.

"You are a foolish human to come down and find me."

The voice of the Pokemon rings in your head, its tail flicking.

"Begone with you!"

So battle ensues.

Your team was trained to deal with strong threats like this so you mostly handled things quite well.

By the end of it, a ball was tossed and Mewtwo was sealed.

Your "bond" with the legendary starts rocky.

Mewtwo was used to violence and being used.

It often ignored you and the little communication it did in your head with telepathy was usually cruel.

You often tried to get along, feeding the Pokemon and trying to touch it.

Mewtwo usually batted your hand away with a snarl.

"Stop trying to be nice! I am at your command, aren't you going to use me for your pitiful ideals?"

However, no matter how cruel Mewtwo was with you... You were never cruel back.

Mewtwo often observed how you treated your own team.

Despite how strong they were trained, it was done with care.

Mewtwo never understood compassion...

Not until it grew closer with you.

You surprisingly rarely used Mewtwo in battle.

You stuck with your team but kept Mewtwo around.

It had no idea for what... for chatter?

Why do you enjoy talking to it?

Mewtwo wonders if you know about its true nature.

Did you know that it's killed before?

Are you naive?

Mewtwo had no idea why it even decided to play along with this.

Did it really enjoy your company?

You treated it more like a fellow human than Pokemon.

You often wanted it to speak with you through telepathy... and it felt comfortable with this.

Mewtwo eventually began to see you as a companion.

You were technically its master, but it didn't see you like that.

Soon enough the powerful legendary even allowed you to pet it.

It felt nice... it has trouble admitting that.

Mewtwo has a vague sense of what compassion is, but it's still a weapon.

Compassion is only given to you and maybe some of your Pokemon.

You have tamed Mewtwo for the most part.

However... all that comes crumbling down the moment you're attacked by Team Rocket.

Mewtwo already had issues with other trainers.

The Pokemon would glare at those you communicated with, still not used to human contact.

Although, Team Rocket was a group Mewtwo couldn't cooperate with at all.

Mewtwo remembers what they did to it.

Which is why when it senses you in danger and comes out of its ball... the Pokemon freezes.

Team Rocket heard that the Champion had managed to tame Mewtwo and wanted to utilize that.

The thought makes Mewtwo shake.

Not from fear...

Rage.

It's at this point you lose control of the legendary

"How dare you touch them... I am not for you to use! I belong here... and I plan to stay beside them."

You can imagine that the end result isn't pretty....

Mewtwo has killed before, if you didn't know that before... this was proof.

Mewtwo doesn't feel any remorse when it attacks.

By the end of it there's corpses on the ground and Mewtwo's covered in splatters of gore.

"They'll blame you... You know that, right?"

Mewtwo's voice echoes in your mind, turning to you with a piercing purple gaze.

"Let us flee. I can find somewhere they'll never find you or me."

When you don't move, the Pokemon frowns.

"You see me as a monster, don't you, Champion?"

When you stare, Mewtwo steps closer before using telekinesis to drag you close.

The Pokemon mimics an embrace, even if you fear it.

"Let's be honest, human... I was always a monster... something that shouldn't exist..."

Mewtwo pulls you along, away from the murder scene.

"You may have changed me slightly..."

Its grip tightens as it carries you.

"But I will always be that very same monster."

[nightsmarish]

Hello luv <3 could you possibly write a prongsfoot or wolfstar x reader and they take her to get a new piercing?? maybe they accidentally keep hitting or helping her clean it and stuff :)))

Poly!prongsfoot x fem!reader (James Potter x fem!reader x Sirius black) | 900+ words

A/n: first of all: omg, my first rq, very very happy, thank you so much babes <3. Second: I am on a piercing ban rn and I am dying for the ban to break so this made me sooooo jealous

T/w: reader is suggested to have multiple ear peircings, needles, still learning to write James, Sirius works in a bar

★⋆｡°⋆𖦹✮₊★⋆｡°⋆𖦹✮₊★⋆｡°⋆𖦹✮₊★⋆｡

"What if this is a bad idea?" You haven't even gotten out of the car and into the building when you start second guessing yourself.

"Love, you've wanted this for a while, I thought?" James is getting out of the backseat and opening your door on the passenger side.

"I do, but it's my first face peircing, what if it looks bad?" James kneels next to your seat in the car while you fiddle with your hands, eyes focused on them, rather than the worry on James' face that will undoubtedly make you melt.

"Doll, you're gonna look hot as fuck, I promise you that much." Sirius turns in the driver's seat to face you, left hand moving to the back of your head, stroking the nape of your neck. "And either way, if you get it and, after a few months, hate it, you can take it out."

You all sit there for a moment before you stop fidgeting and look between the two boys. "Sorry, I don't know why I'm freaking out now, ive been planning this for weeks now." You laugh, trying to ease the tension that's accidently set.

"It's okay, love." James gently grabs your face, turning you to face him and kissing you softly. "You still wanna get it?"

"Yeah, I do."

ᯓ★

You all manage to get through the door of the peircing shop.

You sit in the chair, Sirius holding your hand and James looking away because needles freak him out, but he was adamant he would be a form of moral support.

The piercer uses the forcep clamp and you're pretty sure the needle is in their other hand, but you've had your eyes closed for a while now. And honestly, based off the videos you watched, it's probably for the best you don't see the needle.

"Okay, breath in through your mouth." Their voice is soothing as you take in a breath, albeit a little shaky.

"And a deep breath out..." your hand forms a death grip on Sirius' hand as the needle punctures your nose.

"Good job. I'm going to put the jewelry in now; one more deep breath in." Your hand keeps its hold on Sirius, "and out." The jewelry swiftly replaces the needle. "Okay, and you're done."

While paying and leaving, your hand never leaves the boy until you reach the car.

"Let me see." James once again gently grabs your face once the three of you are near the car. "Dear Merlin, that looks amazing."

"Yes it does, and you took it like a bloody champ, doll." The other boy adds.

"Yeah? It looks good?"

"Obviously." He overlaps one of James hand and leans in to kiss you.

"Wait- no- no kisses right now." Both boys drop their hands from your face.

"Are you okay?" James brows are furrowed in concern.

"I'm- I'm just scared you'll hit it and it will hurt."

The paler of the two laughs a bit but looks at you so fondly you could melt into a puddle like the wicked witch of the west. "Fine- fine then. No kisses. For now."

ᯓ★

You're sitting on the couch when James gets home a few days later, book open as you read.

James toes off his shoes and walks behind the couch, tilting your chin to lean down and kiss you.

You instinctively let him, used to the little routine the three of you have. But dear fuck, you didn't consider how much it would hurt for his nose to hit your very sore one during a kiss.

"Fucking-" You pull back, hand going to your nose to shield it as if some invisible source is gonna sucker punch you.

"Shit- sorry, love, I didn't even think about your new piercing." James rounds the couch to sit next to you, putting your book fave down on the coffee table to keep your place.

"It's okay, Jamie, really." You move your hand away and rake your nails through his hair.

"'M sorry anyway." He leans in again, this time kissing your hairline instead of your cheek.

Sirius had been up in the bedroom, having a night shift at the bar he worked at, so he was sleeping most of the day. But his shift starts in an hour, and he wants to at *least* see you two before he has to see drunk people for 8 hours.

Padding down the staircase in your townhouse, Sirius sees you and James on the couch, you with tears lining your eyes.

"Bloody Merlin, baby, don't try and kill the girl, prongs." Sirius jokes as he makes his way to the couch as well.

"I didn't do anything!" James whips his head around to Sirius, who cuts him off with a kiss before he can continue to defend himself any further.

"He kissed me and it hurt like a bitch." Your voice is slightly whinny, desperately wanting your shorter boyfrienda attention.

"Oh, my poor girl, James is hurting you with his love again?" Sirius coos as he sits between you two, but it's more like on both your laps, grabbing the sides of your face to place a soft kiss on your forehead.

"I said sorry!" He attempts to defend himself again, "I didn't mean to."

"Sounds like it was an accident, huh, doll?" Sirius speaks in-between kisses on your face.

"Seems so." You murmur.

"Either way, seems only James can properly kiss me now." He grins at you before grabbing James' face, more aggressively than needed, and smashing their lips together.

[sexy-monster-fucker]

Consorts [Part 1]

The Ghoul|Cooper Howard x F!Bounty Hunter!Reader

Summary: Months back, the Reader and Cooper got in a huge mess after deciding to work together after finding out they were given the same bounty. Neither has seen each other since. Reader has been laying low in a far off settlement, working a common bar job just to make a living...

a/n: very excited to attempt another multi-part story for the first time in years!! for the record, I have only watched the show through once and I have never played one of the games sooooo sorry for any inaccuracies

~~~

You sat another glass in front of one of your bar dwellers.

It had been months since you even dared go outside this town. You hid your face anytime you were outside the walls of your dwelling. You were forced to lay low after your last bounty went south. Not only had you lost all credibility as a bounty hunter, but a giant target had been attached to your back by the group who you had wronged. There was no where safe for you.

Although your face had to be mostly covered, your job required a certain level of attracting customers. You would make sure to wear something rather revealing of your chest, along with skin tight pants. Making sure you flirted strongly with your eyes to attract more people to the bar.

A group of men who had been sat at a table for sometime all approached the bar at once. You could hear them mumbling something back and forth as glances were shot your way.

"Great," you thought, "Some moron got bet by his friend to hit on me." You rolled your eyes as you cleaned one of the glasses.

"Sweetheart," followed by a whistle.

Your skin crawled. Smug faces met yours when you turned around.

"What's a lady like you doing working in a place like this?" He cocks an eyebrow at you. You huff in response.

"Don't misunderstand now..." a click and suddenly all the men were pointing guns at you, "I want to know why you thought someone worth so much would be hiding in plain sight. We all swore you were smarter than that." You stared down the barrel of his gun.

You sucked your teeth, dropping your head to the side slightly, "Y'all're here for the money? I thought you were going to compliment a lady." Your gun is fired quicker than any of them can register. The man in front of you falls backwards, the others squatting down in fear. You take your opportunity and run out the back exit.

Your mind is playing every possibility of this ending. Gunfire dancing on the ground around you as the men chase you. You end up in the middle of town, firing your gun at them as they are hot on your tail. In a flash, the amount of people after you practically doubles. Your eyes widen as you attempt to find somewhere to hide. You grab a grenade off your belt, throwing it center at them.

While smoke surrounded them, you slid under and behind a large lean-to. You were on all fours, looking through the small crack in the wood. The men were scrambling, firing their guns in any and all directions. A fight was breaking out.

"FIND HER YOU IDIOTS!" One of the men shouted.

You heard more gunfire joining theirs. You knew it had to be some local fighting back. You scanned the area around you, seeing a small pathway that led to a more exposed part of the fort you had hidden in. You crawled, hoping it would lead you out.

"My, my," a familiar voice spoke above you. You looked up to see him staring down at you, his head cocked to the side. "Oh, sweet Jesus," one of your hands rubs down your face. "Longtime no see, doll," he grinned.

The infamous Ghoul. Few knew his name, fewer lived long enough to share it. The two of you had become more than acquainted in a prior mission gone wrong. The one that had left you both on the run.

He reached a hand out to you, pulling you up to your feet. "Didn't expect to see you here," he grumbled. You rolled your eyes, placing your back against his preparing to fireback together. You felt him turn his head slightly, "Y'know, I didn't take you for a brothel girl." Smugness was written on his tone. Your cheeks flooded with a slight embarrassment. He shifted positioning his lips directly next to your ear, "Took you for more of a cowgirl after last time." Heat radiated your body with his obvious innuendo. "People have to do things when they're on the run," you breathe out. He scoffed in your ear.

The Ghoul aimed his gun out, shooting and hitting one of the goons. "I'll get us out of this, but you've got to make a deal with me," he looked down at you. You crossed your arms, "What could you possibly want from me?"

"We're going to finish the mess you got me in," he pointed at you. "That I got you in? That isn't at all-" "I don't have time for this. You either take the deal or I leave you here."

You blew your breath out, "Deal." You gritted your teeth. His lip curved into a smirk, "That's a good girl. Now you stay here and on my signal come out." You nodded.

The Ghoul stepped out from behind the wooden building, whistling to get all the gunmen's attention. You watched as they all directed their attention towards him. Guns all pointed at him before realizing who stood before them.

"There's the other one!"

"That's the Ghoul they're promising a reward for too!"

"We could get double the money!"

The brim of his hat hid his eyes from them.

"Don't make this harder than it has to be, ghoul. If you just give us the girl we can be on with our way," one of them shouted.

"So you can come back and get me later? Not gonna happen," he pointed his gun at them, "I'm leaving here with the girl."

The man chuckled, "You're out numbered here."

The Ghoul shrugged his shoulders. He fires his gun at the giant water barrel suspended above the town. It tips over, soaking all the men in radioactive water. The Ghoul swiftly runs back to you, grabbing your hand and running off with you. You were quick on your feet following behind him.

You both run as fast as you can until the town is no longer in the distance. You slow down, attempting to catch your breath. Loud and obvious huffs leaving you.

"C'mon, Y/N. We've gotta keep going before they get smart." He gestured at you to follow him.

~~~

END//Part 1

[Thank you for reading!  If you are interested in being tagging in any of my writings don’t be afraid to message me!  All tag lists are open!  I have a master taglist and one for each character!]

Tags:

@mortuus-poet | @giggle-shade |

[angelbarelywrites]

♡ good one | thomas hewitt x reader

♡ fandoms; Texas Chainsaw Massacre (2003 + 2006)

♡ characters; Thomas Brown Hewitt

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡ cw; references to extreme violence, stockholm syndrome i suppose?, kidnapping

♡ notes; this was literally supposed to be porn but instead here’s some weird sappy stuff lol

anyways hopefully more fics soon, writers block and rehearsals have been a bitch and a half

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

It was a wonder you were still alive. That’s what you thought about, sitting and fidgeting in the strange bedroom with your ankle shackled. Was shackled the right word if it was tied with rope? Whatever. It didn’t matter. You were fairly certain you’d fall prey to the crazy folks running around the place soon enough. The group you’d hitched a ride with was already long gone- one you’d watched get shot point blank by the bullshit sheriff. The others….well, you heard the chainsaw and the screaming. It was an easy conclusion to come to, especially after you saw the bloody smears on the hardwood downstairs.

You weren’t sure why you hadn’t been hacked into bits yet. You’d been indistinguishable from the others- just another wandering twenty-something with tight clothes and next to no money. The only thing you could think of was that gas station. Your companions had been such dicks to the lady at the counter- of course you apologized to her. She’d been just as kind in return, she even snuck a candy into your bag of sodas and snacks. She was the one who’d sent you that way, towards the farm house.

You stilled, train of thought lost as you heard footsteps. Heavy and slow- they were somehow more intimidating than any angry stomping could have been. You curled your legs up defensively, eyes trained on the door. The person stood there more than a second, silent and just as still as you were holding. If you hadn’t been listening so intently, you would have thought they turned and walked away. But then there was some quiet mumbling- a woman’s voice, maybe?- and the door creaked open.

“Go on Tommy dear- I found a good one for you.”

You’d never seen a man so tall- with shoulders so broad or arms and torso so solid. He was massive. He was terrifying. And he was attractive. Once your eyes unglued themselves from his figure you finally took in the rest. Dark, thick shoulder-length waves. A mask that seemed useless as any sort of medical device thanks to the open mouth. Eyes that were dark but not brown. Maybe blue, maybe gray..maybe just pure black. Like a shark’s. In other circumstances you'd be reduced to a puddle on floor over him. But the bloodstains on his shirt didn’t go unnoticed.

You watched him closely, and he watched you just as alertly, stalking forward like some jungle cat…No. Wait. That wasn’t right. He didn’t look scared, but he was cautious, keeping some distance. Maybe a better allegory would be he looked like he was trying to corner a feral kitten- not wanting you to swipe or dart away. As if doing either was possible. You were frozen with fear, though found the courage to lean back a bit as he stepped forward. He grunted softly and persisted, nearly trembling as he brushed a strand of hair from your face.

Love at first sight was a stupid fucking concept. That you’d always believe. Maybe something in you just broke that same moment, maybe you were just too exhausted to think even close to straight. Maybe both. But when you and this massive man locked eyes, there was an instant understanding. He was already yours- and more importantly, you’d be his. He just had to stake his claim.

“…you’re Tommy?” You practically whispered. He nodded quickly. You got a sense he didn’t speak much, but you told him your name in return and tried to think of anything to talk about to stall the inevitable. “…you killed those people?” You blurted for some godforsaken reason. He tensed, still hovering over you. “It’s okay.” You added quickly “I didn’t actually know them. They were kinda mean.”

He furrowed his brow just a bit and searched your face, for any signs that you were lying. Before he came to a conclusion, you gave a soft sigh, instinctively leaning into the hand that had raised your face to him. Something immediately softened about him, and he rubbed your cheek in awe. The sleepy giggle it caused seemed almost to startle him. It was like no one had ever been that soft with him. Maybe they hadn’t. “….this is your room right? Can we sleep?”

Tommy still seemed in shock but carefully nodded, undoing his apron and seeming at a loss of what to do next. He frowned a bit as he noticed your bindings and quickly undid the knot that kept you stuck there. His guard was down- you could try to run. But you didn’t want to. Doing so would only be tiring. You wanted to let go. So instead you smiled softly and simply opened your arms, letting him cuddle up with you. It took him a minute to get settled, and all the while treating you so delicately… like you were made of glass. He looked up at you, again searching your face in near confusion. He grunted in surprise as you pecked his forehead. His mama really did find him a good one.

[inaconstantstateofchange]

BG3 AU where Wyll's self-sacrifice in saving Baldur's Gate – from cultists of Tiamat, the queen of evil dragons, no less – at great personal cost creates the barest beginnings of a bond to the still-slumbering Ansur. After all, that stymied, accumulated draconic power would have had to dissipate somewhere, and would it not make sense for it to be drawn to the lodestone of a necrotic-energy suffused dracolich?

It would give Ansur a bit of a jolt toward waking, but not enough to bring him to full awareness. The part of him that remained curious, and hopeful, and mourned its lost connection to a bright spark of mortal devotion and nobility – in retrospect, lost to him perhaps even before Balduran’s transformation – latched on to that new path, following it to its end in the brilliant, marred soul of Wyll Ravengard.

After everything, after his father returns to the city, and Wyll... leaves it, he dreams. There’s a different, recognizable creature every time. It starts very small, a little fish in a pond he finds himself sitting by. He is tired and worn from keeping up his mask of careful good cheer, and his body aches from the scuffles it has been forced into. Mizora seems to get some entertainment from sending him after quarry just slightly above his level, or with not enough information to prepare himself adequately. He is learning quickly, but never quite quickly enough, it feels. Here, in this dreamscape, his eye socket still aches, but it is comfortingly empty of the stone that sits within in in the waking world, its chilling weight reminding him always of his mistress’s leash.

He trails his fingers within the pond, and the little fish darts away, a flash of blackened bronze scales. He can’t blame it; he’d hide from himself if he could, too. He says as much to the little creature, and fancies it moves a little closer to the entrance of its little hiding hole. Charmed, and encouraged by the thought that, after all, who else could he possibly speak to about any of this, he settles back against a small outcropping of rock alongside the pool, leaving his fingers bobbing gently in the water, but letting his eyes close and his attention wander.

He tells the little thing about his most recent quest — he likes to call them such sometimes, in the privacy of his own mind, because it lets him pretend that they are anything as glamorous and heroic as the future he dreamed for himself, Before. Even more privately, he draws a mental distinction between the quests he is allowed to take on of his own volition, and the jobs that Mizora sends him on, to further her own unknowable ends. Thus far, they don’t seem to have been anything too horrible, but he fears that such will not always be the case. What can he do about it, however? This was his bargain for the lives of every resident of the Gate, and his own acts at Mizora’s direction have not even come close to outweighing that number.

He is broken from this too-familiar thought spiral by a distinctly unfamiliar – and unexpected – brush of scales against his fingertips. He starts, briefly, but keeps his calm, and merely cracks open his eyes to look down at his little friend. It is poised to dart back into its crevice at the slightest motion, and he smiles down at it, keeping his fingers as still as he can.

“Have no fear — I will make no attempt at you, I swear it. At least one of us ought to be free.”

The little fish makes one last brush against his outstretched hand before darting away again. He fancies it swims with less frantic caution, this time, and counts it a victory enough. When he wakes, soon after, the memory of the strange dream does not fracture apart in the way of most dreams, but seems to tuck itself away, coming to the forefront of his mind only when directly called upon.

[Now with Part 2]

[swappingbryn]

Best Purchase

I knew I would likely not be able to achieve ALL my fitness goals, but I still wanted to try and achieve some of them. I was on the wrong side of 30, not balding but my head was thinning, I gained the “freshman 15” and it grew like compound interest, and I had little visible muscle.

After a year of strict diet, exercise, supplements, I had lost about 20 pounds of fat, gained some muscle, but I was fat from where I wanted to be and from where I thought I would be after all this hard work.

I kept seeing ads for a clothing brand “Midlife Changes,” which I only remembered because I thought it was strange that a company called “midlife” would have only influencers as models. However, they had lots of five star reviews and nothing below a 4, but the weird thing was that all the reviews were short or had no comments. Their prices were high, so I only bought a shirt from the clearance page called “Ragin Ray.”

It arrived in a small, nondescript package a week later (since I refused to pay for expedited shipping). Inside the package was a note thanking me for my purchase, a request to leave a review once I was satisfied, and instructions. I thought it was strange to include instructions with a shirt, but figured it was just washing instructions, but it was a detailed note explaining how to use it. I was to shower, then wear it to bed, the entire following day, making sure to work out as much as possible, not to shower or remove it, and sleep in it once more, and only then should I remove it and shower and then was the shirt. I thought it was stupid, but figured I had nothing to lose. I waited until Friday night, so I’d have all day Saturday to follow the instructions, I showered, put on the short and went to bed.

I woke up the next day and I felt different, and once I saw myself, I realized I was at lease 10 years younger. I wasn’t big, but I was younger, and with the extra time, I knew I could make better gains.

I wore the shirt all day as instructed, and went to the gym for two hours that morning, when I’m usually exhausted after one hour. Went home for lunch, I wanted to shower since I smelled but I held out, then knowing I couldn’t go out with friends or do anything since I was sweaty and smelly, I went back to the gym. I did another 3 hours. I was drenched in sweat but still felt good. When I went to the locker room, I saw my reflection, I was amazed, I was huge.

I went home, had a small dinner and went to bed. I refused to deviate from the instructions. I woke up Sunday and KNEW something was different. I ran to the bathroom and realized I was even bigger. As per the instructions, I removed the shirt, got in the shower and explored my body. It felt amazing, huge muscles, hard abs, and my dick was almost 9”. I exited the shower and when I entered my room, it was all different, trophies all over the wall, messy bed, a desk, and a closet full of clothes that for me, the new me.

I threw on some clothes, grabbed my phone and wallet and went to the gym. When I arrived, the desk attendant, who never paid attention to me before, said “what’s going Ray? Party last night?” I mumbled agreement and kept going. I checked my wallet in the locker room and saw a new ID, I’m Joel Raymond Edwards, 24 years old.

This was the best purchase I’ve ever made, and I made sure to leave a 5 star review, but only write “best purchase ever, love this shirt.”

@kiwineeds

[sidthedollface2]

Something Old and Something New

Pairing: Azriel x Reader (Rhys sister)

Summary: Rhys tells Azriel to back off Elain and find release at a pleasure hall. Instead, Azriel finds you, Rhys' younger sister. 

Or

The Princess of the Night Court becomes Azriels rebound. What could possibly go wrong?

Word count: 4.8k

Warnings: MDNI 18+, ANGST, hurt/no comfort, cheating? (not really tho you'll see), smut (p in v, oral, fingering) no use of yn, nicknames, drug use, alcohol.

A/n: I’m back from vacation and decided to do this one shot in between crown fit for a god. I really don't like using yn (its me not you) so every one of my fics will have a nickname but its still x reader. I’m sorry in advance if this hurts you. Anyway, enjoy. :)

“You will leave Elain alone. If you need to fuck someone, go to a pleasure hall and pay for it, but stay away from her.” 

Azriel hadn't slept in weeks. The weight of his shame suddenly became too heavy for his illyrian shoulders. You weren't supposed to be this magnetic and he wasn't supposed to stick around this long. He told himself it was just going to be a quick fling, someone he could spend the night with and try to forget about her.

 But you had always been in his company. Ever since you became of age he thought you were stunning and entirely too good for him. You were afterall Rhysands younger sister. The female version with equal power and even more beautiful. Graceful when needed, mostly among people of importance, and always polite and kind like a princess should be. You were a Princess for the people, earning the citizens trust and walking among them like each and every person was your friend. It was no secret why they preferred your company to their High Lord.

Your amethyst eyes were now engrained behind his very own eyelids, everytime he closed his eyes for the night, they shot wide open. The image of you under him all those nights and the soft moans as he took you to bed in the shroud of darkness. He really didn’t know how it happened, mostly, he blamed it on the alcohol. One night after Ritas was all it took for him to be obsessed, seeking you out when his loneliness threatened to consume him.

Azriel’s panting mixes with your own moans as he pumps himself inside you. The delicious drag of his thick cock leaves you breathless under him. His touch is gentle as he cups your cheek, his hazel eyes never leaving yours as he imagines forever in your arms. “You're so beautiful. Can’t believe I get to have you.” He coo’s as he trails soft kisses down your neck, nipping and biting your flesh, careful to not leave any marks. Your hands card through his dark waves, back arching off the bed when his lips attach to your pebbled nipple.

Kissing and biting at the fullness of your breasts, soothing away the love bruising he left on them previously. His scarred hands feel like silk when they roam the soft curves of your body, lighting a fire within you with each and every touch. Knees dig into the bed as he grips your hips, still completely sheathed inside you. He moves your body against his, matching the velocity of his thrusts. Deeper and deeper. One arm wraps around your waist while the other rubs tiny circles on your clit. His eyes never leave your beautiful face as his favorite part comes to life right before him. Your head is thrown back, mouth agape as pleasure builds in the pit of your stomach. “Oh fuck Az, don’t stop.” Azriel’s eyes sparkle with wonder as you fall apart beneath him. Toes curling as the force of your orgasm takes over all your senses. Azriel follows soon after. His pace stutters as your name falls from his lips with a groan. Spilling his seed into you with slow thrusts, ensuring each drop doesn't go to waste.

 “You were so good for me baby,” he smiles as he peppers your face with kisses. Azriel pulls out with a hiss and you giggle into the covers when his toned ass walks to the bathroom. You pout adorably when he returns wearing a pair of low hanging pants, and a warm cloth in his hands. “None of that love. I’m all yours and very willing to give you seconds and thirds,” he waggles his eyebrows and nestles between your legs. No shame or embarrassment from neither of you as he gently cleans you up. In between his gentle wipes he places a loud kiss to your core, “so fucken pretty.”

“Pink or Red?” He asks, looking through your assortment of panties, imagining how you'd look wearing the lacey ones. “Black.” Is all you reply and Azriels grin widens when you pick the lacey ones. 

He insists on helping you get dressed, pinching your butt and digging his fingers in your sides, making you giggle. You swat his greedy hands away. knowing it's just an excuse to keep touching you. “I’m not going to let you help me next time, all you do is tickle me,” you joke, knowing very well you couldn’t keep him away if you tried. “Fine. I won’t tickle you next time,” he says, crossing his arms with a sly grin on his handsome face. 

“You said that last time, and the time before that too.”

Like a true Royal he fed you ripe grapes from the vine, watching intently as you parted your mouth for the sweet berry. Azriel licked his lips when your mouth wrapped around the fruit, making you chuckle as you pulled it off the stem. “When you said snacks this is not what I had in mind. I was thinking more like dessert.” 

“Then you should know what to expect. Now come to bed, and snack with me.” Azriel moves to lay on the bed and opens the covers. Patting the space next to him with the palm of his hand, beckoning you next to him. You don’t have to be told twice, because this was without a doubt your favorite part. Like clockwork Azriel requested all your favorite snacks and without hesitation the house delivered.

“You just had dessert baby,” he teased with a shit eating grin as he gestured to his cock. You couldn’t help the snort that escaped from the back of your throat, causing you both to burst into fits of laughter, giggling like children. Who knew the shadowsinger belly laughed so openly. Something he only did with you. Once your laughs died down Azriel indulged you with a sweet treat. Again offering to spoon feed you, taking every chance to lick frosting off your glossy lips or fingers. 

By the end of the night you couldn't believe how sore your cheeks were from laughing so hard. Azriel had this charm about him, and you couldn’t get enough. You draped your arm over his toned stomach. Head nestled against his chest, listening to the rhythm of his strong heart, a melody you loved to fall asleep to. He held you close to his chest, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, inhaling the scent of your hair, “Goodnight baby,” he whispered. 

“Night Az, I love you.” 

Silence. 

Azriel didn’t sleep that night. Neither did you. You didn’t expect him to say the words back, because he’d shown you he loved you in his actions alone. But his coldness afterward was unexpected. He laid still under you. No longer stroking your hair, or rubbing small circles on your back. It was like all the air had left his body yet the rhythm of his heart increased, hammering against his chest with the ferocity of a freight train.  If he felt your saddened tears fall on his chest he didn’t mention it, too caught up in his thoughts to console you. 

But now all his thoughts were of you and how quick your love had turned bitter when he didn't respond after you had said those three words to him. 

He was an idiot. Because he did love you. At the very sight of you his heart beat wildly in his chest. He wanted to spend every waking moment holding your hand and kissing your perfect lips. Fall asleep with you in his arms only to be awoken by your feminine beauty.  But Rhysand was unaware that you two were in a relationship. Were you in a relationship? He never asked. Wanted to. But he didn’t. He couldn’t imagine a day where Rhys would accept him as your lover. Rhys had been furious that he wanted to sleep with Elain, threatening him to no end. He couldn't imagine the anger if he were to find out that he turned his efforts to you instead. There were only a few things Azriel was scared of. Rhysands fury if he were to ever find out he’s been sleeping with his sister. And losing you. Those sort of went hand and hand didn’t they. 

You woke up alone the following morning. Thinking that your confession was too much for the shadowsinger. And perhaps you were just one of his many conquests added to the long list of females that warmed his bed. For as long as you knew Azriel he only had casual flings, nothing of substance. No one he introduced to his family. It made you feel stupid. He made you feel stupid. Hoping that you were the one he could call home. Someone he could envision spending the rest of his life with. You could forgive him for not saying ‘I love you’ back. That didn’t stop you from loving him and that didn’t mean he didn’t care about you. Because surely he did right? 

Right?

It wasn’t just that though, you had overheard Azriel tell Cassian sleeping with you was a mistake and that choosing you to be his rebound hadn’t worked out for him. “She said she loved me. It’s just all wrong. This wasn’t how I wanted things to go between us-” You didn’t bother hearing the rest of the conversation. Azriel’s words left your heart gaping, a wound so large you were afraid no one could mend it.

You had missed the importance of his following words, how Azriel wished he had done things right with you. Courted you the right way, with flowers and lovely dates to the finest eateries. Taking things slow at first, holding hands and sweet kisses under the moonlight. You didn’t hear Azriel explain that you had become more than he ever expected, more than just a rebound. He wanted a life with you. Now and forever, just you two and the family he always wanted.

You’d both move into a beautiful house just along the Sidra where you’d spend hours decorating every room to your liking. He’d soon marry you in front of all his family and friends, wearing the finest gown that glittered brighter than the night sky. During the mating frenzy, because of course you were his mate, he’d be sure to fuck a baby into you. And if his seed didn’t stick he wouldn't stop until your scent shifted to one of a pregnant female. He just hoped that Rhysand would give his blessing. 

Now everytime Azriel tried to seek you out, you were nowhere to be found. Like you had just vanished from the Night Court, even though the other members had interactions with you. You suddenly had no time for Azriel. The citizens of Velaris saw you less and less and when they did, your time spent was cut in half. Your joyous laughter no longer echoed the halls of the House of Wind, instead Cassian and Nesta’s not so secret sex romps were becoming more frequent. You had changed your entire schedule to avoid crossing paths with the shadowsinger. 

You no longer spent your mornings having breakfast with Rhysand and Feyre, instead you woke up earlier than usual and held your morning breakfast in the library. 

 “Why are you having breakfast here and not with Rhys?” Azriels hazel eyes took you in as he neared, noticing your tense shoulders. Closing the book in your hand, now finished with your chapter, you stand and gather your items into your bag, “was just catching up on some reading.” You don’t meet his gaze, the sight of him too painful for your heart to bear. “You haven’t been training with Cassian either,” he continues. “Or shopping with Mor. You haven't exchanged books with Nesta and,” Azriel towers over you, his breath fanning over your cheek at his closeness, “you haven’t warmed my bed.” Your eyes finally meet his, a look of desire in his warm eyes as his hands come up to cup your face. A glance over his shoulder has you pulling away from his touch as Elain enters the library, her soft voice dancing along the walls, “Hi Az.”

He ignores her completely, doesn’t even spare her a glance. But your eyes travel from her to him and back again. You see the fondness she has for him in the flush of her cheeks and the way her voice sings as she calls his name.

Memories of their subtle interactions come crashing into your mind. Her shy gaze whenever he walked in the room. The slight brush of fingers when they crossed paths, his lingering gaze when she exited a room.

He’s not yours, and you're not his. Never was, never will be. It dawns on you then that all the soft touches and lingering glances were never sincere but simply a ploy to get Elain jealous. Everytime you made love to him you gave a part of yourself, hoping he would accept you with open arms and an open heart.

You had hoped you were the only one in his life that made him throw his head back, eyes closed shut in ecstasy. But it's clear now when he closed his eyes he saw Elain riding him instead, not you. She was who he really wanted and you were just a placeholder. The rebound. 

He knows you well enough to tell when you're about to fall apart and now is one of those instances. It clicks for him now why he hasn’t seen you. Azriel catches your arm before you dart away, his touch gentle yet firm “you're avoiding me.” He says, worry etched all over his face as he attempts to pull you into his chest. “I’ve figured it out so you can stop pretending to care about me now.” A tear escapes your waterline and Azriel reaches to thumb away the hurt that he's caused.

You don't give him the chance as you swat his hand away and turn to make your exit. He’s panicking now watching you practically run away from him, as you hurry to get away from his presence.

A wound so intense suddenly opens within his heart. With no other option but to just blurt out the first thing that comes to his mind to keep you close. “I adore you!” he says breathlessly and waits for you to run into his arms so he could kiss you silly. When you turn around to confront him, Elain comes up from behind him and wraps her arms around his middle in a tight squeeze. A picture perfect couple you think to yourself, her innocent personality and bubbly nature a lovely contrast to his tall, dark and handsome. Azriel can’t pry her arms off him in time to chase after you before you rush out of the library, traces of your scent still lingering in the air. 

You run and run you're not sure for how long, just long enough till your tears are dried tracks along your soft cheeks. You find yourself in the arms of your brother, clutching his shirt in your closed fist as you loosen the cries that held your throat hostage. “Hey hey, what's wrong?” he coo’s pulling away just enough to see the heartbreak etched in your pretty face. “Send me away please Rhys, I am begging. I never ask anything of you, it doesn’t have to be forever, just a few months.” Your shoulders are shaking violently as you continue to wail into his chest, the intensity of your cries cracking the high lord into submission. “Are you sure, love? I can fix-” 

“No! There's nothing you can do.” 

Rhys nods, winnowing you to a secret cabin that sits along the border of The Night Court. “Just tell me this. Are you in any danger?” he asks, “because I know Azriel and Cassian or even myself will-” 

You wince at the mention of Azriels name, “I’m not in any danger, brother.” You assure him as you settle on the couch in front of the hearth, pulling a warm throw over your body and curling in on yourself. “Good, that’s good. I’ll talk to Kallias. He has someone he wants you to meet. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind hosting you for as long as you need.” Rhysand takes one last look at you, studying how unhappy you look, hoping you can confide in him your troubles, whatever they may be. You lay bundled under the comfort of the blanket, your glossy eyes staring into the flames of the fireplace. It’s heat providing a comfort you wish was someone else's. 

Azriel enters your room frantically searching for you, but he gasps and stumbles back when he sees Cerridwen packing your belongings. “Where is she?” he asks, his voice tense and panicked as he grips her by the shoulders. “I’m afraid I don’t have that information.” 

“Why are you packing her stuff then?” He starts shaking her shoulders, as if it would quicken her answer. “She’ll be visiting the Winter Court and Rhysand requests her favorite items to be sent to her.” 

You were running away from him, when all he wanted was to run toward you. Azriels world shattered completely. If you weren't here to live beside him then he had no interest in living. He had been too complacent in being in the now and not once had he initiated to be something serious. Now he was left with longing. 

That same night Rhysand made accommodations for you to stay in the Winter Courts Palace. Kallias and Vivienne were more than happy to have you stay with them. They were quite eager to introduce you to their son Kit. Hoping that with time you’d become great friends. Kit was the spitting image of his father. His white hair styled to perfection, with not a single strand misplaced. Chiseled cheekbones and a sharp jaw, pouty lips with Icy blue eyes to match his cool demeanor. His eyes trailed your beautiful curves as he bowed, taking your hand within his, placing a tender kiss to your delicate knuckles. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you Princess.” 

Your violet eyes met his and for a moment his pretty face made you forget about your heartbreak. Kit extended his elbow to you and without a second doubt you linked your arm with his as he led you to see the beauty of his Court. 

You spent the next two weeks in the company of the future Heir. Kit remained a respectful host. Introducing you to his closest friends, a welcomed change of personalities compared to your friends from home. Each evening he’d join you for dinner. Offering a different restaurant each night in hopes to expand your palate in order to get a feel for your favorite foods.

During your brief stay you opened up to him and told him of the situationship you had with Azriel. You explained to him what you overheard Azriel say and how stupid he made you feel after you confessed your love for him. “I finally saw the way he looked at her and it broke me more than it should have, because I remember when he looked at me the same way.  I heard him tell Cass that I was just the girl he picked to get over her. I never meant anything to him. Yet this whole time it had been real for me and I foolishly fell in love with him.” 

“Oh sweetheart, you deserve to be someone's first and only choice. You’re a Princess of The Night Court, if anyones the stupid one It’s him for not seeing how incredible you are.” With the end of his sweater sleeve, Kit wipes away a stray tear that escaped your waterline. His gentleness is a stark contrast to the ice flowing within his veins. “Besides I hear there's a handsome Prince looking for a warm heart to thaw the coldness in his soul,” he smirks playfully, rocking on the heels on his feet, a look of innocence in his crystal eyes. Your sweet giggle transcends into his favorite song and he makes it a mission to hear it often. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Azriel was tearing himself apart from the inside out. By the third day of being plastered and starting fights with innocent bystanders; Rhys had pulled him off missions until he sobered up enough to function.  All that did was give him a larger drinking window. He visited every winery and brewery in Verlaris, sometimes even forgetting how he got there in the first place.  Drowning in bottles of liquor till he could barely stand, let alone fly or walk or do anything for that matter. Tonight was different from the past two weeks, as he decided to smoke his problems away, alcohol no longer providing the high that made him forget.

 The strain for tonight was Mirthroot laced with Amnesia Haze, a hallucinogenic that could either make your deepest wish a reality or make you completely forget your life's problems.

Azriel couldn’t remember how he got up the steps to the house of wind. He couldn’t remember lots of things as of late. One thing he’d never forget though, was your scent and the way you made him feel. So when he opened the door to the house and your sensual perfume hit his nose he almost fell to his knees with relief.

You were finally home. He could explain himself and tell you that he loved you and that you meant the world to him. Azriel followed your scent like it was second nature. His shadows excitedly rushed up stairs towards your bed chambers, leaving him slightly confused because you were sitting at the kitchen Table.

Your hair was long in flowy waves down your back, a little longer since the last time he saw you. It hadn't been that long had it? It didn’t matter, all he wanted was to hold you in his arms again. Keep you safe in Velaris where you belong. Azriel slowly approached you, his breath shaky as he placed his hand on your shoulder. “Vi?”

Violet, the nickname you were given for your stunning eyes with various shades of purple and blue. Your eyes met his and you smiled, “Hi Az.” 

“Gods I missed you,” he admitted as he pulled you up from the chair, enveloping you in a warm embrace. You were slightly startled at how tight he hugged you. Inhaling your scent deeply as his nose nuzzled against your neck. “I’m so sorry, for everything. Please forgive me?” Azriel cupped your face between his scarred hands, angling you to look up at him. His pupils were large and dilated, a gaze mixed with sorrow and lust.  Your brows furrowed in confusion, “Az? What are you talking about?” 

“Come here, I need to tell you something.” Azriel lifted you onto the kitchen counter, earning a small yelp from your lips. He settled between your knees, making your thin night dress pool around your hips. His hands remained on your exposed thighs, rubbing them softly to keep you warm. His eyes never strayed from yours, like he couldn't believe you were actually here. “I made a mistake and should have never let you feel like you were the wrong choice. I don’t care what Rhys says anymore. I want you.”

His hands inch closer to your center, a silent request to touch you as the other brings your lips to his in a steamy kiss. You nod into the kiss, giving him permission to touch you. Azriel pulls your panties to the side, easily coating his fingers in your arousal, groaning when he feels how wet you already are from his kiss alone. 

Your breath catches when he slips his fingers inside and curls them in a come hither motion. “Oh gods Az, I’ve dreamed of this moment,” you pant into his mouth, needing more of him, anything he's willing to give you’ll take. He then rubs tiny circles on your clit, making you throw your head back so hard it slams against the cupboard in a loud thud. White flashes behind your eyes as your orgasm crashes over you, a giddy smile plastered on your face from the pleasure he's given you. 

You hop off the counter, eager to return the favor. Palming his cock, you notice he's barely hard, a groan escapes his mouth as you fumble with his belt. You pull Azriels pants down along with his underwear, pooling at his ankles, his cock still not fully erect. Your small hand grips him at the base, making him hiss. He sways side to side, eyes closed as he concentrates on getting hard, something he's never had to do before. You pump his shaft. Once. Twice. And then you wrap your lips around his cock and suck, the warmth of your mouth excites him and he stands at attention, finally. “So the rumors are true,” you coo.

“Fuck baby, your mouth feels so good. I Fucken love you.”   

Wait. What rumors?

“Azriel?” 

Azriels eyes fly open. You're standing in the doorway, shaking like a leaf in the wind with a  hand over your mouth. Sobbing loudly into your hand, tears blurring your vision as they escape your waterline. Heavy drops fall to the ground and the only sound heard is the unmistakable ‘pop’ as the female on her knees releases Azriels cock from her mouth.  

Azriel blinks rapidly, shaking his head, trying to rid himself of the haze he's in. He looks down to the female, stuffing his cock back in his pants as she's scrambling to get up. 

“Elain?” he chokes out her name, tears welling in his eyes as he stares at her, devastation in his wide eyes  as he realizes what he's done. What he did to her thinking she was you. His eyes turn to meet yours again, but he only catches your dress billowing as you turn around and run. Your loud wailing echoing in his ears like a hammer to a church bell.

“Vi wait! Please. It’s not what you think!” He yells, rushing past Elain as he sprints after you, needing to reach you before you winnow away.  His heavy footsteps pound against the tile floors, waking up the rest of the inner circle. Just as you're about to reach the knob Azriels arms wrap around your middle, pulling your back to his chest. You both crash to the ground from the force of Azriels tackle. His back meets the hard floor in a loud slam, cushioning your fall. “Let me go!” You plead, kicking and  clawing at his arms that are tightly wrapped around you. “Sshh, baby please. Listen to me.” his voice cracks as he tries to calm you down, “I love you, I love you so much. I thought she was you!! Please believe me!” 

Your voice slices through him, like a dagger to his already bleeding heart. “I hate you!” You scream out in anger, venom lacing every word as it hits its mark. “I hate you! I fucking hate you!” 

Darkness envelops the entire room, It’s cold mist threatening to devour anyone who so dares to defy its power. “Azriel, release my sister before I sever those hands off your body.” Rhys stands at the bottom of the stairs, his power bouncing off him like flames of a fire. The rest of the inner circle gathered around him, watching in horror as both males stood off in a staring contest. It’s Azriel who wavers; finally releasing you to shuffle away from him. 

Azriel sits on his heels, a subtle submissive pose showing respect to his High Lord. “Rhys, I’m sorry. I’ve been in love with your sister for some time now. Too cowardice to tell you or her,” Azriels gaze falls on you. “I’ve been a mess since you left. Masking my pain with alcohol and drugs, which is no excuse. But tonight I took a hallucinogen, and,” his chin wobbles as he tries to hold back his tears, “I made the biggest mistake of my life. I know I’ve lost you, and you will never forgive me. However, I need you to know, in front of everyone, that I have always loved you. I will always love you.” 

Azriel lowers his head. The flood of emotions finally pulled him under the surface, drowning him in his own misery. Fat heavy tears break from his eyes; landing in scattered drops along the floor beneath him. This pain is all consuming, torturous in its own vile way. Tearing at his heart shred by shred, a disastrous mess all by his own hands. A lonely scarred heart to match his scarred hands. Hands that once held the most precious gem, a rare Violet beauty; now only hold the memory of a lost love. 

When Azriel lifts his head to see your face for the last time, he’s once again too late. Fear latches onto his ankles like a heavy chain, anchoring him to the bottom of the sea. You’re gone. His darkness driving away your bright light, leading you into the arms of someone new.  

A/n: part 2 ? 🤔🤔

[mostlymarvelsstuff]

That was so good!! I’m a sucker for Nat with children so thank you for sharing!! I agree with basically everything you said too, nat running to clint is so true haha!!

I have another for you!

Do you have any thoughts on Nat with Masc! Reader? What’s her weaknesses? How does Nat even control herself around them with fainting 🤭🤭

Thank you!! And same, mama Nat has a special place in my heart ❤️

Oooo. A good question. Now Mascs come in a variety of looks/attributes/hobbies obviously, but I'm going to go with the more stereotypical stuff cuz that's the easiest route lol. I'm also going with them not being a couple yet cuz it's more fun to write longing 😂 anyway:

Rs really good with her hands, always seems to be fixing or building things with Tony, or working on her car and so the thought of what those hands could possibly be capable of in the bedroom plague Nat. But also, not just the bedroom. She also wonders how they'd feel in soft moments, like tending a wound or caressing her cheek. She just really wants to feel Rs hands....

Rs got muscles, and while Nat obviously has some too, Rs are a bit bulkier. A bit more apparent and defined. So the fact that R likes to work out in tank tops or sports bras leaves Nat in a hopeless situation. She's gonna stare and watch the way sweat drips down Rs body. She's also going to imagine her hands following the path of said sweat, and going other places 😏

Rs short hair drives Nat crazy, all she wants to do is run her fingers through it and let her nails tease Rs scalp. Anytime she sees it damp (pool party, caught in the rain, post shower) has her swooning

When R wears sweatpants, good lord this woman goes feral. She's never seen it, but she just knows those are the pants R would wear the strap under. So the mental image of a bulge at Rs crotch just never leaves her head. And if she thinks about R pressing that bulge up against her from behind.....no she doesn't 🤫

As for the not fainting part, that's that spy training. It keeps her conscious. It doesn't keep her thoughts from wandering though, and after enough time passes, she'd probably slip up and just be out here outright ogling poor R because she's just sooo smitten

[everydayyoulovemeless]

Hi! If you are still taking requests, I'd love a head cannon with marrying the companions at the castle, and how they would feel? Thank you for considering this! ❤️

Marrying the Fo4 Companions at the Castle

➼ Word Count » 1.7k ➼ Warnings » None ➼ Genre » Romantic ➼ A/N » I didn't add Codsworth because I couldn't stop thinking about Nate/Nora dying and then their spouse remarrying their butler. Felt too awkward😭

MacCready never imagined that he'd ever find someone who would love him as much as Lucy did and still know of his entire past. It makes him hopeful that Duncan could actually get a second partner to rely on in the future. He's never been too close with any of the Minutemen but, I imagine if he had to pick he'd choose them as his preferred faction. So, being married at the Castle wouldn't be an issue for him, but he'd get married just about anywhere as long as it meant you'd be the one he got to marry. It's one of the only times he doesn't intentionally pick a fight with Preston as he desperately wants his help with making him look his best. He knows he won't steer him wrong, since he's so close to you. He's so fidgety and nervous, but couldn't be more thrilled to devote the rest of his life to you.

Nick doesn't mind getting married at the Castle. If you'd asked him, he would've suggested the All Faiths Chapel, but in hindsight, the Castle seems a tad more appropriate for the two of you. Especially, when you consider that most of your loved ones are either already there or close enough in range to reach it safely. He cleans himself up quite nicely for the occasion, having Sturges help polish off his body's more visible aspects. He's a sucker for vintage weddings, and if you could somehow convince either Strong or a group of Minutemen soldiers to move one of those old cars into the venue, he'd consider proposing to you all over again.

Cait couldn’t care less where you two got married. She’s just glad that she’s going to marry you at all. Even if the Minutemen get on her nerves, she can’t help but find herself teary-eyed at the thought that you love her enough to even want to marry her. Even if it's almost certain that she's going to get into an argument of some sort with one of the faction members, she's still going to do her best to get along with everyone at the venue and make it fun for the both of you. She's never been a big fan of weddings and would prefer it if you only invited a small number of people, but besides that, she'll do her best to be as vulnerable with you as she possibly can on this day. Her being completely upfront and honest with you about how she feels is the least she could do after everything you've both been through together. It's the most emotional you have ever, and probably will ever see again.

There aren't many places at the Boston Airport that make sense to use for a venue so, Danse understands why the Castle is where you'd want to hold it. Even if they aren't Brotherhood, Danse still holds a lot of respect for the Minutemen soldiers and wouldn't mind playing nice if it meant making this day more memorable for you. He might even come to find that him and Sturges have a lot more in common than he initially thought. With them both being interested in power armor and whatnot. Danse is sorta like a puppy when it comes to these things, anywhere you want to go and anything you want to do, he's fully on board with. The location doesn't matter to him, as long as he's able to slip a ring on your finger. He's mainly just glad to be apart of your life in such a meaningful way and he hopes it'll stay that way for a long time to come.

Preston couldn't be happier to share this moment with you in a place he holds in such high regard. Especially since everyone he cares about is right here with you both in this moment. There’s nowhere more perfect in his mind and he’s overjoyed to be able to marry you despite the world being so tainted. It makes him that much more determined to defend the Commonwealth knowing that there are people like you still living in it. He does everything in his power to make the day go as smoothly as you could ever hope. He doesn't rest until the venue looks just as you described it to him, every little detail you dreamed about to him set in stone before your big day. Nothing is out of place, and he can't wait to see your expression when you see the effort he put into it all.

Piper had always been too enamored in her work to really consider a day when she'd get married to someone. She surprises herself when she agrees to commit herself to you for the rest of her life but, she supposes it's a welcomed one. The Castle would not have been her first choice when thinking of places to get married. If it were up to her, she would've picked somewhere on the coast. So, the two of you compromise and do it just outside the Castle on the sandy parts of the territory. She finds it to be much nicer on the outskirts, especially with the soft sound of the waves in the background. Nat makes the perfect flower girl for the occasion and she makes sure you're feeling more laid-back about the day rather than stressed. A light-hearted, casual wedding on the beach is all she could ever want.

Curie is so excited to wear a white dress! She’s read about this ritual before, but being able to partake in it is something she finds lovely! She couldn't care less where it happens, as long as the two of you can make it as accurate to the pre-war version as you can. She'll spend hours rambling to the Minutemen soldiers about all sorts of different topics out of being so nervous, but luckily for her, they're kind enough to just let her talk. Being able to experience something that holds such high importance to couples helps her to feel more human in her new body. There are so many different things she wants to do to further implement her as a person, and what better way to start than by getting married?

Strong doesn’t want to get married. It didn’t seem to work out all that well with Macbeth, so why would he want that for himself? Can’t you be a unit together without all your weird human rituals? Besides, there's no way anyone would ever get him into a classier outfit.

Hancock would’ve preferred to have married you in Goodneighbor since it's his home and everyone he planned to invite is there. But he's honestly so head over heels for you that he’d marry you in the glowing sea if that’s what you desired. He'll just ask to have two weddings instead of one, that way both of your 'families' can witness it without it being too much of a hassle. He's actually kinda glad your first wedding will be held at the Castle because he can't tie a tie to save his life, and Preston is way nicer about it than anyone in Goodneighbor would be. This way, he can learn and not be teased about it every time he walks into his own town, and Preston promises to keep his secret for him.

Deacon feels uncomfortable about getting married in front of everyone. He’d rather you go somewhere where it’s only you two and slide a ring on each other's fingers after saying your vows. No crowd, no long tradition. He's really nervous about the wedding, especially since it's being held in a place that means so much to you and to everyone else in the Minutemen. He wants to make this special, but his fear of being vulnerable is slowly killing him. He's so afraid that he'll get to the front of the makeshift alter and make a fool of himself. He's so shaky that you almost have to go over and ask how he's doing. He'll do it for you, just know he's having a few drinks beforehand to encourage his more charismatic side out of him. If that doesn't prove his love for you, I don't know what does.

X6-88 would hate it but would be surprisingly quiet about it for your sake. He thinks the Castle is disgusting, and he doesn’t particularly like the Minutemen, even if you are the general, but he wants this to be your day and so he’ll marry you where you want. The Institute would’ve been cleaner, and he could’ve arranged nicer decorations, but he supposes it doesn’t matter, as it’ll be him putting a ring on you either way. He can look forward to that, at least.

Old Longfellow would be pretty open about not wanting to get married there. He wants to compromise a little bit with you, as all of his closest friends are in Far Harbor and all of yours are in the Commonwealth. If anything he’d prefer to marry you in a place somewhere in the middle of those two places. You'll have to sit down with him and decide on a place that works for both of you and, if you can't find one, he has no issue just being with you. He's a firm believer in not needing to be married to prove your love for your partner. So, if that's how it ends up being, that's how it'll be.

Gage never imagined he’d ever get married, let alone at a Minutemen settlement. What were the odds? It’d take a lot of convincing to get Preston to agree to let you get married to a raider in the Castle. He gets slight flashbacks to Quincy at the thought of someone like him entering Minutemen territory so freely. But, as much as he disproves your relationship, he’ll let go of his grudge for the day so you two can get married. Security is amped up like crazy though. Gage personally doesn’t care where he gets married as long as it’s not in Nuka-World. The gang members aren’t too fond of the ritual and will begin to look down on both of you for participating in something so “classy”. It’s best if they don’t know.

[omkookie]

. "I'll show you how much I love you"

⌈ ⚠️ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ⌉ Smut, drugging, Implied noncon at the end. short and rushed Yandere Reader fic

You’ve had your eyes on the first prince of Obsidian ever since he knocked on your door that one night, to ask you for directions. The man was gorgeous, and you’ve never felt someone give off an aura as seductively dark as his.

He was… something else.

FInding out his identity didn’t deter you from him, as your heart longed for the stranger– You never feared him. The more time you spent with him, the more infatuated you became with him, and being around him made your heart flutter. Gilbert was the perfect man, a bit of a problem maker sometimes... but so cute! He was everything you could possibly wish for.

He was so beautiful…

Every time he looked at you, He made your heart beat faster. How could a man steal your heart this fast? Your strong feelings quickly turn into an obsession, and then you were always with him. Someone tried approaching Gilbert? Well, would you look at that… You suddenly acted out aggressively and hurt the person “By accident”.

Sariel becomes afraid of your sudden change in behavior. He even confronts you about it, soon realizing that you might have gone mad because of how you were describing your feelings for Gilbert. Sariel looked taken aback when you snap at him and bluntly tell him to fuck off.

Gilbert is yours, he's perfect, he's yours.

All of the words leaving your mouth were crazy.

This can’t be the Belle Sariel picked…? right?

.

It doesn’t matter though, Whatever Sariel thinks or if he calls you obsessed.

You now have Gilbert cornered, and you couldn’t be happier. He stares at you cautiously as you slither up to him like a snake, and wrap him up in your firm embrace. His initial resolve to push you away is quickly thrown out of the window when you yank him closer to you and kiss him.

His fingers tremble as they make their way to your lower back, and your tongue enters his mouth to entwine with his.

By the time you pull away, you’ve turned Gilbert into a blushing mess with a string of saliva still connecting your lips.

You push him back against the wall, and he doesn’t resist you as you begin to strip his clothes off and throw them to the side.

Of course, that means that he loves you too… right? His lack of resistance sure does!

You peel his shirt off of him, and he shudders when the cold air hits his heated skin, “Wait.” He says weakly as he tries to push your hand away when you reach down for his trousers.

In his fucked up state, Gilbert still somehow manages to stay coherent and muster some courage to push you away, “What did you drug me with?” He asks sharply while coldly glaring straight at you. “Phencyclidine. Don’t worry about that, Gil.” You coo as you cup his cheek and press a kiss against it. He looks at you with a pained expression before murmuring, “Have you lost your mind? or are you really this bold? If you kill me now then Rhodolite will be wiped off the map.”

“Oh, I’m not doing this to kill you... or for rhodolite.” You tell him

“What?”

“I’m not going to kill you, silly. I’m doing this because I love you~ The drugs take some time to take full effect though.”

He looks dumbfounded, His beautiful crimson eye looking all around the room as he tries to make sense of the situation. “I love you Gil” You say as you press another chaste kiss against his cheek.

“I see…” He whispers underneath his breath as his eye closes. He looks doubtful, somewhat restless, but way less than you expected him to look.

“Lean back, Gil.” You suddenly push his shoulders down, and his back hits the cushion lying on the floor. At least you were thoughtful enough to put a pillow there… Still, this doesn’t sit right with him.

You get on top of him, and although he tries to push you off, you merely brush his hands to the side before your hand wraps around his neck. He can’t deny that the way your hand holds his throat so firmly is somewhat hot and he’s getting aroused, but your predicament was way too fucked up for him to enjoy anything.

“Gil, pay attention to me.” your hold on his throat tightened as your other hand slapped his face. It wasn’t too hard, but it was enough to make his cheek sting. He winces, and though he once again tries to push you off, even kick you, he can’t do that because he was too weak. Disoriented, numb. He was losing feelings and his head was fuzzy.

"I'll show you how much I love you" is all he hears before he feels your hands all over his body.

[jackles010378]

Love Beyond the Badge ❤️

Beau Arlen x y/n

No warnings needed just pure fluff! 🥰

The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky with strokes of orange and purple as Beau Arlen leaned against the hood of his truck 'pedro', the metal cool under his arms. The day had been long, the kind that tested a man’s spirit, and it was in these quiet moments that his thoughts drifted to his deputy, Y/N.

He heard the crunch of gravel and turned to see Y/N approaching, her silhouette framed by the fading light. “Evening, Sheriff,” she greeted, her voice steady as ever.

“Evening, Deputy,” Beau replied, pushing off from the truck. He hesitated, a battle raging within. The dream he had the night before flashed in his mind, vivid and stirring. It was unprofessional, perhaps even foolish, but the truth clawed at him with an urgency he couldn’t ignore.

“Y/N, can we talk? Off the record?” he asked, his tone more serious than she was used to.

She nodded, curiosity lighting her eyes. “Of course, Beau. What’s on your mind?”

He took a deep breath, the words he’d rehearsed suddenly clumsy on his tongue. “I had a dream last night,” he started, “about you. It was… it was more real than any dream I’ve ever had. And when I woke up, I realized that it wasn’t just a dream. It was how I truly felt.”

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly, a mix of surprise and something else Beau couldn’t quite place. “Beau, I—”

“I know we have our duties, our responsibilities,” he continued, cutting across the space between them. “But I can’t shake this feeling. It’s not just respect or camaraderie. It’s more than that, and I think… I think you might feel it too.”

There was a pause, the world holding its breath. Then, softly, Y/N spoke. “I do. I’ve felt it for a while now, but I never thought—”

“That it could be mutual?” Beau finished for her, a small, hopeful smile tugging at his lips.

She nodded, stepping closer. “We have a lot to figure out, Beau. But yes, it’s mutual.”

The confession hung in the air, a fragile truth that promised to change everything. Beau reached out, his hand brushing against hers, an electric connection that felt like the first piece of a new beginning.

Flashback:

The air was crisp, carrying the scent of pine and the promise of winter. Beau Arlen had been the sheriff of Helena for just over a year now, a position he took with a mix of pride and solemnity. The town was small, but it had its troubles, and Beau was determined to be the steadfast hand that guided it.

It was on a day like any other that he first met Y/N. He was at the local diner, a steaming cup of coffee in hand, when the bell above the door jingled. In walked a young woman, her posture confident, her gaze scanning the room like she was taking in every detail.

Beau’s curiosity was piqued. He watched as she approached the counter, exchanged a few words with the owner, and then turned to survey the diner. Their eyes met, and Beau felt a jolt of recognition, though they had never met before.

“Can I help you, ma’am?” Beau called out, standing up.

She walked over, her hand extended. “I’m Y/N, the new deputy in town. I was told I could find Sheriff Arlen here.”

Beau took her hand, the firm handshake speaking volumes of her character. “That would be me,” he said with a smile. “Welcome to Helena.”

They sat down, and over cups of coffee, they talked about law, order, and the quiet life of a small town. Beau was impressed by her experience, her insight, and the way she seemed genuinely interested in making a difference.

“I’m looking forward to working with you, Sheriff,” Y/N said as they parted ways that day. “I think we’ll make a good team.”

Present day:

And they did. Over time, they became a unit, a duo that the town came to respect and rely on. But as they worked side by side, the seeds of something more began to take root, something that went beyond badges and duty.

After the day they acknowledged their mutual feelings, they decided to step beyond the boundaries of work and explore the possibility of a personal connection. Beau wanted to make their first date special.

The Montana sky was a canvas of stars as Beau picked up Y/N from her modest home on the outskirts of Helena. The air was filled with the scent of sagebrush and anticipation. Beau had chosen a quiet spot by the lake, away from the prying eyes of the town, where they could talk freely.

Y/N stepped out, her usual uniform replaced by a simple dress that fluttered in the evening breeze. Beau couldn’t help but notice the way it made her eyes shine brighter than any star above them.

“Ready for an adventure?” Beau asked, offering his arm.

Y/N smiled, taking his arm. “With you? Always.”

They drove in comfortable silence, the familiar hum of the engine a soothing backdrop to their thoughts. When they arrived, Beau led Y/N to a clearing where he had set up a picnic. A checkered blanket was spread out, and candles flickered in mason jars, casting a warm glow.

They sat down, and Beau handed her a plate filled with homemade sandwiches, apple pie from the local bakery, and a thermos of hot chocolate. They talked about everything and nothing, laughter mingling with the soft sounds of the night.

As the night deepened, Beau took a deep breath. “Y/N, I’ve been a sheriff for a long time. I thought I knew what it meant to protect and serve. But being with you, it’s like I’m seeing the world anew.”

Y/N reached across the blanket, her hand covering his. “Beau, I’ve always admired you, respected you. But this,” she gestured around them, “it feels like we’re discovering a new part of life, together.”

They leaned back, watching the stars, their hands entwined. The night was peaceful, a gentle reminder that sometimes the most significant moments come when you step out of your comfort zone and into the unknown.

2 year time skip:

The morning of the wedding dawned clear and bright, the sun casting a golden glow over the town of Helena. The ceremony was set in the open expanse of the countryside, where the mountains stood as silent witnesses to the union.

Y/N stood in front of a full-length mirror, her wedding dress a masterpiece of lace and love, tailored to echo the strength and grace she carried herself with. Her badge was pinned close to her heart, a symbol of her commitment to her town and her soon-to-be husband.

Beau, dressed in a suit, waited at the altar, his heart full. The guests were a mix of townsfolk, family, and friends from near and far, all gathered to celebrate the love that had blossomed in the most unexpected of places.

As Y/N walked down the aisle, the world seemed to stand still. Beau’s eyes locked onto hers, and in that moment, they knew that every challenge, every shared glance, and every quiet support had led them here.

The ceremony was heartfelt, with vows that were more than just words. They were promises etched into their very beings, pledges of partnership in life and in the pursuit of justice.

“I, Y/N, take you, Beau, to be my partner in life, to stand by your side, to share in your laughter and your silence, to always seek the truth with you, and to uphold the law of love above all else,” Y/N vowed, her voice unwavering.

“And I, Beau, take you, Y/N, to be my partner in life, to honor our badge and our bond, to face each day with you with courage and compassion, and to always keep our love as my guiding light,” Beau promised, his words a solemn oath.

The exchange of rings was not just a formality but a sealing of their fates, intertwined and unbreakable. And when they were pronounced husband and wife, the applause that rose was not just for the union of two souls but for the hope and strength they represented.

The reception was a lively affair, with dancing, laughter, and stories shared under the starlit sky. The couple’s first dance was to a song that spoke of enduring love, their steps a dance of unity and mutual respect.

As the night drew to a close, Beau and Y/N stood together, looking out at the faces of the people they protected, served, and loved. They knew that their journey was just beginning, but they were ready to face it together, as partners in every sense of the word. "I love you Sheriff Beau Arlen", "and I love you Deputy Y/N Arlen".

Awww don't you just love Beau 🥹🥰 hope you enjoyed this as much as I loved writing it ❤️

TAGLIST: @k-slla @cevansbaby-dove @kaleldobrev @janineb86 @deans-daydream @alternativeprincess94 @nescavaneck @angelbabyyy99

[masterjedilenawrites]

I have a cuddles request. Female reader and Fives. Reader and Echo were crushing on each other. They never got past the crush stage though. Reader and Fives were buddies too. They liked to flirt, tease and joke around. Now Echo is gone though, and Reader and Fives are devastated. Cuddles prompted 5, 15 and 20. Really they both just need shoulder to cry on. Someone to hold on to.

Snuggle Drabbles #3

Fives & reader | 840 words

Content: angst, grief, hugs for comfort

Prompts: Burying face in their chest, Squeezing them tightly, Clinging to them

Oh the huuuurt with this one! I made myself tear up a little 😥

The presence of absence... It was a thought you found yourself stuck on often these days. How you could feel emptiness, as heavy and distinct as an object in your hand. How you could see vacancy, an outline in the space of every room, your eyes drawn to the void like a moth to a light. How it was possible to notice him when he wasn't there.

Echo wasn't there. And yet, he was. His absence made him present. Existing only as a memory projected into every space he should have been but no longer would be. The voice only you could hear. The face only you could see.

That wasn't entirely true. Fives still felt him, too. You could tell. Even though he did as he was trained and soldiered on, falling into step by the brothers who were still alive, never bringing up the ones who weren't, never spending time on the things that were out of their control, like life and death, and instead sticking to the things that were, like mission strategies and which MRE to have for breakfast... you knew he still noticed the presence of Echo's absence, just as much as you did. And you knew he was hurting just as badly.

They'd both been your friends, but it was Echo you'd dreamed of. Of kissing. Of loving. Echo with his sharp mind and sweet smile, just as no-nonsense as Fives was all-nonsense. Noble and steady and good.

And just when you'd gotten the sense he maybe returned some of your affections, he'd been taken away. Just like that. No more sweet smiles. No more dreams. Just you and his absence.

And Fives.

Some days you could follow his lead and pretend you didn't see the empty spaces. Other days it was like you had to stare through a ghost to even see the face of the living friend in front of you. Today was one such day. Fives had tried a joke, the first you'd heard a while, but all that landed with you was the absence of Echo's laughter. You waited to hear it and it never came. Neither did your own.

You could see Fives's throat bob as he tried to swallow. His hands came up as if wanting to take hold of you but not daring to reach through the space in between. You realized you couldn't remember the last time you had hugged each other in greeting, or felt his playful swat against your shoulder as he teased, or even the warmth of his leg against yours as he sat close to steal a bite of your food.

And then you realized Echo wasn't the only absence you now felt.

"I'm sorry," you rasped, your throat suddenly constricting with suppressed emotion.

Fives quickly shook his head in response. "It's okay."

You stood and stared at each other, unsure how to move forward. There was this thing in between you, a void that threatened to swallow you up if you dared cross it.

"I... I want you to be okay," he said after a while. And then, in a smaller voice, "Echo would want me to make sure you're okay."

You didn't think you could speak but you made yourself try anyway. "He'd want me to do the same for you."

Fives's mouth moved into a smile but it didn't reach his eyes. His eyes, instead, were watering, darting between yours and the walls around, as if searching for something. He wiped at them and then his beard, taking in a sharp breath through his nose, clearing his throat.

"I'm sorry," you heard yourself saying again. "I... I don't want to push you away..."

"It's..." he instinctually started to respond before stopping himself.

It wasn't okay. It wasn't okay to lose one friend and not have the other to lean on. The truth was, you were afraid. Afraid to walk through Echo. To fill the void with anything other than his memory.

"It's okay," he ended up saying.

It's okay.

Fives's mouth had moved but it was Echo's voice you heard. Clear and calm and certain. Delusion or not, it was all the permission you needed.

You threw yourself at Fives, not daring to think beyond your need to feel him. Your arms wrapped around his torso and squeezed his body tightly against yours. Your face buried into his chest. Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt. He immediately replicated every movement and held you with all the strength and care he had. Tears fell and mixed between you. Sobbing breaths heaved back and forth against each one another until they eventually ate each other up and left nothing but defeated sighs in their wake. Desperate, clinging grasps loosened into a tender but firm embrace.

You'd taken that empty space and started to fill it again. With a promise. With hope. And it was okay because you knew he was still there, too. An echo of every new memory you and Fives would make in his honor.

Every Character Tag: @dangerousstrawberrypie, @justanothersadperson93, @arctrooper69, @sleepycreativewriter, @techie-bear,

@theroguesully, @cw80831, @cdblake1565

Clone Bois Tag: @kaijusplotch, @rebel-finn, @lucyysthings, @marvel-starwars-nerd, @nekotaetae,

@severalseashellsbytheseashore, @lackofhonor, @flowered-bicycles, @foodmoneyandcats, @nahoney22,

@dangraccoon, @lulalovez, @aconstructofamind, @skellymom, @the-mom-friend-dot-com

✨Join A Tag List Here!✨

🤗 Request a snuggle drabble here!

🍾 One Shots Master List | 🌙 Master List of Master Lists

[bigtreefest]

Chapter 8: What Took You So Long

From: Bigger Houses Series

Pairing: Mountain Ranger! Ari x Reader

Summary: Finding forever took forever. Now it’s time to slow it down.

Word Count: 3,414

Content/Warnings: moderate alcohol consumption, mildly negative self-talk, looking back on the past, poking fun, mild swears, entirely too much affection, learning to cook, mild allusions to adult fun times, pet name usage

A/N: hehehe, the thought of grocery shopping with a SO has been eating me up recently. Also, a good friend of mine thinks I’m becoming disillusioned to what real-life romance is like. Oops

Likes, comments, reblogs, and asks are sooooo welcome and appreciated!!

Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

Below is the song which inspired this chapter. Talk about sappy.

< Prev | Series Masterlist | Next >

You and Ari were grocery shopping when it hit him. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. A part of him had known the whole time, but this moment had really made it click.

You weren’t even looking at him, your eyes instead favoring the rows of produce, mentioning facts about how to determine when each fruit or vegetable was ripe. It was beautifully mundane, it was you sharing a little more of yourself and your wide breadth of knowledge he could never get over, and it was everything he ever wanted to love for the rest of time.

He was in awe of the way you moved through the aisles, your natural understanding of everything a person could possibly need, and how well you knew his preferences.

You pulled out spices, describing the dishes that utilize them. You explained the importance of salt, but not too much, and why a person could possibly need more than one kind. You walked him through different ways to make a balanced meal. The entire time, he was enthralled. He was completely taken by you and hung on to every word like it would save his life. Well, it sort of already did.

The two of you went to the checkout counter with your full cart, Ari pushing it as you began to load the items onto the belt.

Ari helped the cashier bag them up, and before he could even think to pull out his wallet, you’d already swiped your card. Ari cocked his head to the side, his long hair that peeked out from under his hat swaying. The ball cap looked so funny in juxtaposition to his ranger uniform, which he still wore as a product of you picking him up from work. His eyebrow raised as if to say ‘seriously?’

You smiled and shrugged as you took the receipt, skipping off in front of him as he pushed the cart out of the store and to your SUV. You slowed to allow him to catch up.

“You know I could’ve gotten that. These groceries are for my house, after all.” You laughed before reaching the car and pressing the button for the lift gate.

As the trunk began to open, Ari parked the cart and you felt arms wrap around you from behind. His beard bristled against your neck as he nestled in with his chin on your shoulder and kissed your cheek.

A soft smile remained on your face. “Consider it a gift. Welcome to independence, and official adulthood.”

He laughed into your hair. “Well it hardly counts as independence if you just took care of me. Swooping down to save the day again like the Angel you are. If you’re not careful, people are gonna think you’re my sugar mommy. Then I’m definitely not independent or much of a full-on grown-up.”

You rolled your eyes before turning around to start placing the bags into the trunk, keeping your head down doing your best to hide your blush at what Ari just said. You loved that he thought the world of you, and loving Ari like that was easy. Now, in terms of the sugar mommy comment, you both knew your job paid better, but neither had an issue with it, so any time it came up, he loved to joke like that, despite him having some savings from living so modestly.

Once you finished loading, you looked up into his sparkling eyes, creased with the smile he always wore when around you, finally replying. “I’ll give you sugar, you just have to wait until we’re home for it.”

You winked before giving him a chaste kiss, far too short for his liking, closing the trunk, and hopping up into the driver’s side, leaving Ari to return the cart.

When Ari returned to you, you started the car towards his cabin. You drove with one hand on the wheel, the other holding his over the center console. His thumb absent-mindedly stroked the back of your hand as Ari looked out the window, thinking about how he was going to pick out a ring.

Ari was finally losing his bachelor fridge. Gone were the days of it only housing lunch meat and beer.

You had just helped him finish putting away the new haul as he had gotten changed out of his uniform. Everything had a place and he had never seen the cabinets so full. You had a methodical system he really appreciated.

Ari’s hands were on your hips as he was about to set you on the counter before you stopped him, placing a hand on his chest.

“Wait, stop.”

He looked at you confused.

You removed your hand from his chest and held a pointer finger up. “One more thing. Gimme a sec. I left it in the car.”

You dipped under his arm that had you barricaded against the counter, running towards the front door and slipping on the first pair of shoes you saw, Ari’s massive boots clopping as you ran on the driveway. You opened up the back door of your car, looking under the seat to pull out a small package wrapped in brown paper and a twine bow.

You ran back in to where Ari was still standing there with his mouth agape, one hand on the countertop, the other on his hip. You cautiously crept towards him with the package tucked behind your back.

His face morphed into a suspicious smile. “Whatcha got there, Duchess?”

You giggled, toes meeting his as you looked up at his towering form. He made a move to reach behind your back before you quickly slid out of his reach.

“Ah ah ah, surprises are meant to be given, not stolen, ya little klepto. Now close your eyes.”

Ari’s head fell forward with a sigh before looking back at you through his eyelashes. “Fine.”

His eyelids fluttered shut as he held out his hands and you pulled the small package out from behind your back, carefully placing it.

“Okay, open.” Ari looked down at the brown paper intently.

“What is it? What’s the occasion? You already bought my groceries.”

He set it on the counter before propping you up onto the island like he had tried to before. You shrugged, your hands gripping the edge as your feet swung.

“Open it. I know we didn’t really discuss gifts or anything, but happy one year of me almost hitting you with my car.”

He laughed, picking it up again and untying the twine. “The first or second time?”

He knew which time. It was the first one. He marked the day as soon as he’d gotten home from your first coffee shop date, counting back the days to that fateful run-in on the mountain pass.

You kicked his thigh lightly before silently urging him to tear open the paper. It revealed a small cookbook.

“‘Cooking for Two?’ What-“ His eyes grew wide. “You’re not…” he looked around before ducking his head slightly and whispering. “Pregnant…are you?”

You shoved him back. “What!? No. No!”

You shook your head frantically. “Absolutely not. That is not what this means.”

The two of you were more than careful enough to make sure that didn’t happen—at least not right now. You’d made sure to find the right birth control and Ari took proper precautions on his end, as well.

You laughed uncomfortably before going silent. Ari let out a sigh of relief. “Oh, okay, that’s good- I mean, not that I wouldn’t….like, well, kids….um.”

You calmed him, placing both hands on his shoulders. “I-I get it trust me. I want kids, too someday, just not right now. It’s okay, we’re on the same page about that.”

He nodded and placed his head on your shoulder as your hand moved to stroke his hair.

“Thank you for understanding me. Where have you been all my life?” Seriously, he couldn’t believe that heaven ever let him find you.

You placed a kiss on his temple. “I was getting prepared to meet you.”

You leaned back to catch his gaze. “Now let me explain. This book, which is most definitely not a pregnancy cookbook, is because I’m hoping to start spending more dinners here now that you’re all stocked. As much as I love cooking for you, I think it’s important we both know how.”

You gestured your head to the single book that sat on the shelf in the corner of his kitchen. “Plus, I think you’ve earned an addition to the collection. You’ve graduated on to the next best thing. The pizza incident is a thing of the past.”

He shook his head reminiscing on the memory. “It’s not my fault you distracted me.”

You looked at him with feigned shock and disbelief as he leaned in for a kiss. “But as my present to you, let me cook you dinner?”

You nodded, leaning in to meet him. The kiss was soft and slow before it became needier. Ari tried pulling you close, his one arm falling from your waist down to your hip, the other still holding the book, before you placed your hand on his chest again, pushing him away.

“Nice try, Bear, but I’m starving. As much as I wanted to see where that kiss went, I want food more. Chop chop.”

You grabbed the other end of the book still sitting in your lap and gently raised it, pushing it towards his face and turning him towards the stove.

“You pick out a recipe while I get some drinks started for us. Sound good?”

As much as Ari would’ve grumbled at anyone else, he was happy to oblige you, flipping through the pages as you pulled out two glasses and began pouring.

Ari was so happy with the way you took over his space. Everywhere he looked, he saw you. Every room in the small shack had been filled with laughs and memories that filled his chest with warmth. Gone were the days that pained him to even look at the walls as the darkness seeped in. All that existed was light. It shined off of you and stayed reflecting off every surface, leaving an imprint of contentment in Ari’s brain, even when you weren’t here.

Ari leaned back against the counter next to the stove, arms crossed as he simply watched you. Over the period of him preparing the meal that was nearly finished, you had changed into one of his old wildlife conservation hoodies he’d gotten from working a fundraiser.

You danced without a care in the world, swaying with your arms above your head to the music you had blasting through the small cabin. Your one hand held your second cocktail of the evening.

As much as Ari hated to, he had to pull his gaze off you for a second to check the roast on the stove. When he opened the pot lid, you caught a whiff of the truly delectable scent. The sweetness of carrots swirled with the seasoning blend over the braised beef.

You set your glass down on the island, dancing over to him and stepping up behind the wall of a man. No spanks in the kitchen was a long-standing rule, which was a shame for the sweatpants he was wearing, but nothing was ever contested about hugs.

Your arms snaked around his waist and up under the front of his shirt as you rested your cheek between his shoulder blades. You could feel the ripple of each muscle as his arms expertly maneuvered and he breathed steadily, it was like marble that moved. Yet, there was a softness to it, maybe from the sensation of the chest hair under your fingertips, maybe from the smell of the fabric softener he used. There was always a softness to Ari, especially around you.

He hummed, reaching to pull low-rimmed bowls down from the cabinet, serving up the meal and setting it aside before running his hands up his shirt to meet yours. He turned around and pulled your hands between the two of you, placing a kiss on each hand, right on the ring finger. Starting forever was at the forefront of his mind, unbeknownst to you.

“Ready to eat?”

You nodded with wide eyes, grabbing silverware and dancing over to the dining room as Ari followed with your meals, dancing along.

As the sun fell, you and Ari were still sitting at his dining room table. His small work-provided cabin didn’t offer much room to move around, but there was just enough for the two of you and you didn’t mind being cozy.

You were putting together a puzzle under the warm lighting, newly donned fuzzy socks on your feet that he’d tucked away as a surprise for this very special day, finally giving them to you after dinner.

The two of you moved quickly, but not hastily, as you passed Ari the outline pieces and you worked to piece together the internal scenery. Your movements were paired with witty banter and discussions about past lives. No matter how much time you spent together, you could never learn enough. You wanted to know everything.

“So that was the spring break I spent doing cleanup work for a tornado. It’s not like I had any plans otherwise besides going home, but my mom understood it was what I needed to do.”

Ari nodded along. He enjoyed learning about the road you took that led your hearts to each other. All the things you did with your hours and your minutes. Seriously, what didn’t you do? Even now you were constantly on the move, filling your schedule with valuable, enriching things. You chased your dreams even if they took you far away from your hometown. At least, that was how he saw it. How could you always find the time to be with him? To dedicate to him when you had so many other things on your plate?

He didn’t want to question it too much, though, for fear that you’d catch on and think he didn’t live up to how amazing you were. But Ari thought to himself more, realizing the good he really had done. What took him so long? Where had this version of him been all his life? You had awoken it in him. You had pushed him to become a better version of himself.

He was roused from his thoughts by your question. “So what about you? Ever do anything fun for spring break in college?”

Ari’s eyebrows rose as he thought back to it. He hadn’t finished college and it honestly seemed like a lifetime ago. He blew out a breath and leaned back in his chair.

“Well, I only had two spring breaks. I remember going down to Daytona beach with some buddies of mine, getting drunk on Coronas and them all being drunk on love with whoever they met down there.”

You took a sip of your drink, nodding as you swallowed. “Sounds about normal. I bet you were a charmer back in the day, too. Sometimes I wish we’d met then.”

Ari shook his head vigorously at that, taking the drink from your hands and finishing it down. “Ehhhh…I’m not so sure about that. I do not think you would’ve liked to have met me then. I probably wasn’t deserving to be in your arms.”

Your brows pinched together as you took the drink back, going to Ari’s fridge and getting a fresh round of beer, hunching over to reach the shelf. “I don’t agree that you weren’t deserving. Sure, we lived different lives, but you were still you.”

Ari thanked you as you placed the new bottle in his hand, taking your seat again and shuffling the puzzle pieces.

“I mean, Bear, I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who actually cares about being a ranger as much as you do. You go to all those little conferences and retreats and trainings and actually enjoy them. That’s not just a trait that develops overnight. It’s character.”

Ari blushed. Not even the cold beer was enough to counteract the warmth in his cheeks that came around when you said little things like that. When he could see how much of the little things you noticed. When you saw him.

He scoffed and tried to brush it off, though. As much as he loved to hear your praise, he respectfully disagreed with your assessment of his college self. Sure, if it had been up to him then, he would’ve been ecstatic to meet you a lot sooner, but God knew what he was doing making Ari wait all this time.

“Nah, I was a bit of a punk. And I wasn’t ready then to meet someone like you, but I think I’m ready now.” It was true. Right when Ari met you was when his world started spinning, but he wouldn’t have been able to handle it as the immature, reckless, and restless young delinquent he was.

“I definitely wasn’t doing humanitarian work like you. Trust me, Duchess, if you would’ve seen me…let’s just say…I don’t think I would’ve ever gotten the opportunity like now to kiss you every morning with the sunshine. I would’ve blown it pretty early on.”

You shrugged and continued to snap pieces into place with one hand while the other reached for his, pulling it to your lips for a kiss. “Agree to disagree.”

The puzzle was shaping up now, as you worked to slide your solved chunks in towards the middle with Ari. Only a few pieces were left to be placed.

Ari continued to work on the task at hand, but it took a back seat in his mind to the main show that was you. Sure, he loved little activities, but mostly, he just loved you and the time you could spend together. He’d do anything if it meant just stealing another moment.

As you were close to finishing, there were two spots open, but only one puzzle piece left. You stood up, looking on your seat, spinning around to check the floor, and even peeking under the mostly-solved puzzle with no luck.

“Bear, stand up. Do you see the last piece anywhere? Can you please help me find it?”

He stood up and cleared his throat. “Sure thing. It’s gotta be here somewhere. This was a new set. Couldn’t have gone far.”

The two of you looked over every nearby surface, Ari even checking the fridge to see if you’d tracked it into there somehow, and to get himself another drink after looking for the piece at the bottom of his bottle.

Somehow this hunt had turned into a dance, though. Or…more of a hobble?, as Ari had wrapped his arms around your neck, hugging you from behind and resting his head over one shoulder, taking big, goofy, swaying steps with you.

He lived for this. Really. Where had you been all his life? This night was another quotidian moment he wanted to bask in. He felt like it had taken him forever to find the one he wanted to spend forever with, but now that he did, he just wanted time to slow down. He wanted to drag out this night just a little bit longer.

You turned around in his hold, hands rubbing his chest and abs over the old hoodie he wore. Your nails raked up and down, sending tingles to the firm muscles under the plush fabric. Ari held you close, large hands splayed against your lower back. As your hand brushed over the pocket in his sweatshirt, you felt something small and flat with sharp edges.

“Hm, that’s suspicious.” Your head tilted as you looked up at the tree of a man, a sly smile on his face, looking back down at you.

“Oh, Angel, I’m just excited to see you.”

Without breaking eye contact, you reached into the pocket, finding exactly what you’d expected, mouth open in a small gasp of fake shock.

“As much as you wish it were, not everything is about your dick, Levinson.”

You winked and leaned up to kiss his cheek. Ari simply gave a shrug as you shimmied out of his hold and back over to the table, sliding the final puzzle piece into place. This was a mimetic moment for him; a visual representation of what you’d done in his life, and he planned to never let you go.

Next >

Bonus A/N: Bro, a lil sap who thinks the world of me? That’s all I want. Fr Fr.

If you agree, I’d love to hear about it. Drop me a comment or reblog. Thank you for reading!!

Series Taglist:

@patzammit

@hawkeyes-queen

@identity2212

@jamneuromain

@whiskeytangofoxtrot555

[pinkbubbles06]

Rosekiller Headcanons Pt. 2

Part 1

These may be out of order or be repeating from pt 1 but it’s only cuz I got excited…

Annnyyyyywayyyyy…. HERE WE GO!!

* Barty would be that type of person to have a thought process along the lines of “Evan deserves someone better than [insert name of whoever Evan is currently dating here]. If it were me dating him, I’d treat him much better.”

* And then he would proceed to not think on that any harder.

* Every time Barty gets an angry owl from his dad, he gets so overwhelmed by anger to the point being called by their name makes him want to scream. So all his friends start calling him "idiot" "pretty boy" "raccoon" "dumbass" respectivly until he calms down.

* lets not get it twisted, evan was 100% crazier than barty.

* Before they got together Barty would beg Pandora to make flower crowns so he could give them to Evan. If the flower crowns were from anyone else Evan would burn them on the spot. But anything from Barty he cherished forever.

* The second barty would come bounding up the hill towards him in spring, flower crown in hand, Evan would smile gently as Barty placed it on his head with such pride and joy.

* After they got together, Barty made Panda teach him how to make them so he could do it himself.

* Evan spends half his time saying "shut the fuck up" to Barty because weird stupid shit always falls out of his mouth

* (and he does shut up 'cause that man is whipped)

* Barty always forgoes pockets for the sake of fashion, and so Evan’s pockets are always full of random things of Barty’s that Barty can’t carry in his hands

* Barty is a mommas boy ™️

* Barty was shorter than Evan for the longest time but in 3rd year he had a growth spurt in the summer and was towering over Evan when they say each other on the train.

* Barty would talk to his mother about everything and everything and he mostly spoke of Evan.

* Barty’s mom had a beautiful garden and Barty asked her if she could teach him to plant roses one summer.

* When Evan came over the next summer Barty was so proud to show him the roses he grew just for him.

* barty whose eyes are locked on Evan’s throat, he wants to leave his marks all over there, bite the soft and perfect looking skin, make it his home

* then he gets hit over the head by dorcas with a pan, and she tells him to be normal

* Barty always found it real hot when Evan gets pissed and bangs someone’s head into a wall until their blood is running down their face. He loved it when Evan was insane.

* (Evan is more crazy than Barty is. Period. You can’t convince me otherwise.)

* Regulus never understood why Evan and Barty were so deranged sometimes. He’s a good child.🥲

* evan's last thought before being hit by moody's bombarda was the way barty smiles between their kisses

* Barty would always absentmindedly play with Evan’s hair at all times

* Whenever they would go out in the winter, Evan you always tell Barty to bring a coat, even though he knows he will end up carrying it for Barty because coats make him feel trapped sometimes.

* He would just be like: "wear a jacket, it's cold out!”

* And Barty would be like: ”uggghhhhh fineeeee!!!”

* Barty always opened the door for Evan or pulled his seat out before he sat down

* Evan: did you eat today?🤨

Barty: yes….👀

Evan:

Barty:

Evan: eat something love.😘

Barty:

Barty: fine.😒

* Barty wants so bad to be Evan’s trophy wife lol

* After Barty proposed, he would daydream of the moment he first sees Evan at the altar. Like. He’s so in love guys.

* barty absolutely LOVES valentine’s day and uses it as an excuse to be as publicly sexual as possible, loudly flirtatious, and is wrapped around evan like a condom

* evan pretends to DESPISE valentine’s day, acting like he forgets about the occasion just to get on Barty’s nerves- dodging his attempts to flirt / touch, and makes a show to be as unromantic as possible. on the inside, he’s squealing and kicking his feet

* Even hated Barty at first they would argue sooooo much!!!

* But then Barty grew on him like he does with every one

* Evan loves making Barty cry during sex. Especially if he is overstimulated.

* Evan loooovvvveeeessss overstimulating Barty during sex. (Barty loves it too btw lol)

* Ives said it before and I will say it again because it need to be a thing. EVAN IS NOT NOT TIMID AND HESITANT!!!! HE IS A PHYCO!!!! HE IS WORSE THAN BARTY GUYS!!! LIKE COME ON!!!!! IK I SAID THAT THE FIST TIMEHE AND BARTY DANCED HE WAS INSECURE BUT THEY WERE REALLY YOUNG AROUND THAT TIME!!! LIKE 14!!! (At least in my head…) AFTER THAT INE TOME HE WAS SOOOOO CONFIDENT!!!

* (sorry for yelling lol)

* Any way….

* if you don’t think regulus had a little sign with the amount of times barty got pushed off the beds for being a little shit ur so wrong

* Barty‘s mother had a huge family estate in the countryside that Barty’s mother and he would go and live in during the summer. it’s also where her garden is. Barty would drag Evan along every time

* Barty’s dad lived in the city because of his job…

* They announced their relationship on April Fools and were both laughing their ass off watching Hogwarts try to figure out if they were actually dating or not.

* Evan is really shitty about being woken up. like if he falls asleep on the couch just leave him there, don’t wake him up to try and get him to go to bed because he will bite your head off. When Barty finds him on the couch in the common room he will settle down and cuddle up next to him and read a book. Or take a nap with him lol. Depends