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redr0sewrites · 6 months

Note

So bc u requested Adam and/or Lute stuff I'd like to request Adam x male!reader? Like literally anything that comes to your mind, idc if it's sfw or nsfw I just crave it °^° (also if you're not comfy with writing male reader that's totally cool too, in that case just ignore this)

I HAVW NO QUALMS AB WRITING MALE READER NONNIE DW!!!! ♥️

🥀Cw: fluff, smut, male!reader, overall adam's usual shenanigans

🥀minors dni with the nsfw portion

sfw:

you can NOT look me in the eyes and tell me adam does not have some form of internalized homophobia, and the minute he starts catching feelings for you i genuinely think he'd have a mini crisis

because of his major fuckboy personality he has a LOT of experience with flirting with women, but literally no experience with flirting with men

adam is still pretty confident however, and would probably approach you first.

i think he'd have to be friends with you to catch feelings for you in the first place, so he's probably around you pretty often

adam is very subconsciously flirty with you, but in a much more genuine way without his usual bravado. he doesn't even realize how soft he acts around you, but others can tell by the way his eyes always follow you and how he seems to orbit around you, or the way he'll purposefully stand as close as possible when he's talking to you. theres also the fact that he's literally always touching you, whether it be an arm around your shoulders or a hand resting on your back, he just needs to be close to you. you attract him like a moth to a flame, even when he's in a crowded room all adam is focused on is getting your attention. even his casual hookups stop as he literally focuses all his time on winning you over, even he doesn't realize how much he likes you (everyone else can tell. theres a betting pool in heaven on when you both will get together and who will confess first, etc)

adam definitely acts like a BUFFOON around you, deep down he doesn't think someone like you would want to be with him and overcompensates by bragging constantly about all the woman he's liked in a slightly pathetic attempt to flirt with you and literally CONSTANTLY trying to get your attention. think of his usual flaunting attitude and then turn up the dial by 100%. he wants to be on your mind 24/7 the same way your on his mind all the time

meanwhile ur lowkey heartbroken, bc you think adam is straight and yet you can't get rid of your stupid ass crush on his stupid face!!!! it's honestly especially irritating because he'll flirt with you and call you so many petnames and nicknames and will always be touching you, so you think you have a chance, then all of a sudden he's talking about some girl he banged and you just feel a bit led on

its very amusing for lute to watch the both of you dance around eachother and your feelings, when you both so clearly like eachother but are too scared to do anything about it

honestly i think you'd both end up confessing to eachother in the middle of an argument, maybe your pissed at adam for bragging about the "super hot girl he banged last night" (she isn't real and he spent the entire night thinking about you) and he's pissed off that your getting mad at him instead of being impressed or falling in love with him

definitely one of those dramatic "because i LOVE you, okay?!" confessions i am cringe but i am free and adam just kinda stares at you for a hot minute

adam would literally be like "wait... YOU like ME???? i thought you HATED me????? IM the one who likes YOU!" in usual adam fashion, and you would literally be like -_-"YOU LIKED ME THIS WHOLE TIME??? WHY DIDNT U SAY ANYTHING????" his dumbass would literally be like "I WAS TRYING TO??????" and all of this useless dialogue would literally just end in the two of you admitting your true feelings (much to lute's amusement who was recording the entire thing bc she NEEDS to win that bet)

once you both are officially together? prepare for adam to be the clingiest mf alive (in a cute way tho). he waited so long to be with you and literally became solely devoted to you for a WHILE before winning you over and it's probably been a hot minute since he's genuinely dated someone. sure, he's had hookups, but real, soulful relationships aren't common with him.

adam is ridiculously loyal to you, definitely one of those people who will be like "i have a bf 🙄" when someone random texts them, even if that person wasn't even interested in them romantically

LOVESSS flaunting you!! adam will bring you to every event he attends, he loves bragging about you and showing you off to all of heaven

if anyone ever gave you any shit about your relationship adam would literally drop kick them, he's very defensive about your guys' relationship and wants everyone to know that he loves you.

adam doesn't know shit about labels or sexuality so you probably have to teach him some things, i honestly think he'd be pansexual or just queer/unlabeled (i am totallyyy nooot projecting)

nsfw:

adam has been alive a long time and thought he tried everything sex related under the sun, but being with a guy opened a whole new world of possibilities

adam had explored with anal a bit before, but never with a partner. only in the late hours of the night when jerking off just wasn't enough, and he found himself with a strange temptation, his hands creeping lower and lower until he finally began to thrust his fingers in and out of his aching hole, tears welling in his eyes from a mix of humiliation and pure pleasure. yet, when he admitted to having tried fingering himself before, he also admitted something else- he had never managed to make himself cum, and had always gotten too embarrassed to push himself over the edge

he is a switch FIGHT ME. the first time your both intimate, adam absolutely talks so much shit about topping yet starts whining the second he begins fucking your tight cavern. this leads to you taking control and fucking him senseless, and adam is shocked at how much he enjoys it

he takes dick like a champ, he's a bratty sub at first but once you praise or degrade him, he's melting like putty in your hands

adam is sooo loud, he's a shameless moaner and everyone within a mile radius can hear his screams

you have to teach him how to give head, and he is surprisingly a very fast learner. adam lowkey gets off on how humbling it is to be below you, and he's also the type to get off on his partner's pleasure.

adam definitely has some sort of breeding kink, and when he's fucked dumb and so, so needy, he'll beg you to cum inside, whining about fucking a baby into him and babbling pure nonsense

even though it is quite literally impossible for either of you to get pregnant, he loves that kind of dirty talk. adam will pretend to be embarrassed about it but the thought of you breeding him or him breeding you is genuinely such a turn on for him

yall literally never use a condom im sorry 💀

adam would enjoy topping as well, i def think he enjoys fucking you and he loves fucking you senseless with pleasure

the first time he tops adam goes slow, he wants to learn more than anything and becomes incredibly skilled at reaching that sweet spot inside of you

adam is the first man, the original dick, and he definitely knows how to use it. he's such a fast learner when it comes to sex-related things, and memorizes everything about you and your body. he wants to know what makes you tick, and everything that pleases you or turns you on

adam is a pretty big guy and he can easily maneuver you into any position you want, he really likes hitting it from the back and loves fucking you from behind. he'd definitely pull your hair, forcing your head back so he could whisper absolute filth in your ear

i really really enjoyed writing this urgrhrgregregeh i love me some adam- im an afab person but im genderqueer/unlabeled and sometimes feel more masculine or more feminine, snd this was very fun to write bc i usually don't get requests for male reader or more masculine reader so yea i really really enjoyed this!!! also happy easter to anyone else who celebrates lmao i can't believe yall r getting smut from me on easter 💀

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marvelsmylife · 7 months

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Can you feel my heart breaking?

Pairing: Azriel x reader

Plot: what happens when the male you’re meant to be with is pining over someone else.

A/n my first angsty Azriel one shot. I did not make this an anti-elain story. I love her and will never write a story where she's being mean to anyone. My girl just wants to take care of her garden in peace. I’m contemplating making a part two to this. Let me know if you’d be interested in a part two.

ACOTAR Masterlist

Part Two

There was nothing worse than watching your mate pine after someone else. Granted, Azriel has no idea that you are their mate. Still, it pained you to watch as your mate followed another female around and made sure she was ok instead of you.

The worst part was that Elain was oblivious to Azriel’s feelings towards her or that you were Azriel’s mate. She treated you with nothing but kindness, making it harder to hate her because she was innocent in all of this.

Someone who did know about Azriel being your mate was Rhysand. He sympathized with your situation because he was in your position before with Feyre and Tamlin. He was also grateful that you didn’t hold anger towards Elain for the situation you were in.

Rhysand tried everything he could to keep Azriel away from Elain for your sake, and you thought maybe one of these days, the bond would finally snap on his end.

That changed one night when you overheard Azriel questioning the cauldron for making Lucian Elain’s mate. You felt your heart break at his words because that meant he’d probably deny your mating bond when it finally snapped into place for him.

The following day, you asked Rhysand if you could be sent to the day court for a while. While he was initially opposed to it, he reluctantly agreed because he knew you had family in the day court and that Helion would treat you right over there. “Yes, you may go. I’ll contact Helion and work everything out,” Rhysand sent you a weak smile: “Just promised me you’ll come back to us. You know you’re like a sister to me. I don’t want to lose you too”.

“Of course, I’ll come back. I just really need to get away for a bit. You’ll never lose me. Unfortunately for you, you’re stuck with me for life,” you replied.

Rhysand let out a soft chuckle before giving you a brief hug and letting you go so you could start packing.

It took Rhysand two days to contact Helion and inform him that you were headed to the day court. Helion told Rhysand you were welcome to stay with him and was excited for your arrival.

Throughout those two days, you spent it packing and giving individual goodbyes to your friends. Each time, they would question your reason for leaving. Not wanting to lie to your friends, you told them about Azriel being your mate and not being able to be around him when he was hung up on someone else. They understood your situation, and instead of trying to convince you to stay, they wished you luck on your new adventure.

The one goodbye that took you by surprise was Elain. Tears formed in her eyes when you revealed you were leaving: “I know I never said this to you before, but I considered you one of my best friends here. I don’t know what I’m going to do without you.”

Shocked expression appeared on everyone’s faces at Elain’s confession. Mostly because by now everyone but Azriel knew you were his mate, and they knew how much it hurt you to see him pining over the woman who just called you her best friend. “Everything is going to be ok; you’re going to be ok,” you replied, giving her a tight hug: “And if anything, you can always visit me, or I’ll visit you if you’d like.”

“I will be sure to take you up on the offer,” Elain responded and pulled away.

Azriel was the last one you said goodbye to and for you, it was the hardest one, mostly because he was your mate. “Please take care of yourself Azriel. Don’t stretch yourself thin. That means it's ok saying no to Rhysand's requests from time to time,” you teased at the end causing Rhysand to playfully roll his eyes at you.

“Don’t worry, I will,” Azriel promised; his hazel eyes scanned your face and noticed hurt and sadness in your eyes: “Are you ok? You know you don’t have to go?”

You tried your hardest to keep it together as you replied: “I’m fine. I want this, I’m just going to miss all of you, but I’m especially you.”

A surge of confidence flowed through you and before you could process what you were doing, you hugged Azriel. This was the first time you’d ever hugged him and yet the moment you hugged him, Azriel felt complete.

But just as Azriel was getting comfortable with your embrace, you pulled away and placed a kiss on his cheek: “Take care Az.”

Azriel felt as if someone knocked the wind out of him as soon as you walked away and got into the carriage Helion had sent out for you. It took him a few seconds to realize it was the mating bond snapping into place for him.

“She’s my mate,” Azriel fell to his knees as he finally felt the mating bond he so desperately wanted to feel for the past five hundred years: “Y/n is my mate, and now she’s gone.”

#azriel imagine #azriel x reader #azriel x you #acotar imagine #acotar x reader

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nobodysuspectsthebutterfly · 2 months

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in asoiaf, what is the order of succession for nobles and for the throne (as i’ve read they are different)?

They are indeed different. In most of Westeros, they use traditional Andal succession, known in our world as male-preference primogeniture. This puts women at the back of the line, so to speak, but does not exclude them. A lord's eldest son inherits, even if he has older daughters, followed by the remainder of his sons by age, and then his daughters, and then would move up to the previous generations with his brothers and then his sisters. "A daughter comes before an uncle," as they say. For example, with the Starks, Ned's succession is Robb-Bran-Rickon-Sansa-Arya. (Benjen is excluded for being a man of the Night's Watch; Jon is excluded by being a bastard and a man of the Night's Watch. But of course there's complications.) This succession also includes the heirs of the heirs, so for example Hoster Tully's succession is Edmure-Catelyn-Robb-Bran-Rickon-Sansa-Arya-Lysa-Robert-Brynden.

Note there are exceptions to this, even after King Jaehaerys I Targaryen codified the laws across Westeros. Sometimes these exceptions appear to be cultural. For example, somehow House Stark has never had a ruling lady in all its reported 8000 years of existence, and the time we know they should have, Cregan Stark's eldest (and late lamented) son Rickon's eldest daughter Sansa was (forcefully?) married to Cregan's eldest son from his third marriage, her half-uncle Jonnel, who became the lord instead. Another example - after Balon Greyjoy dies, a maester insists that "By rights the Seastone Chair belongs to Theon, or Asha if the prince is dead. That is the law", and Aeron Greyjoy dismisses it contemptuously as "green land law", and thinks the Iron Islands will never follow a woman.

Sometimes these exceptions appear to be just plain misogyny - like when Big and Little Walder Frey discuss the succession of the Twins, they don't count the women in the line. Mind you the Walders are children and may not know true details; but time will tell if Edwyn's daughter Walda will inherit or if her uncle Black Walder will seize the Twins. (Probably the latter.) Of course little Walda also has the problem of being a child heiress, but child heiresses have become ruling ladies before -- like Jeyne Arryn, whose inheritance was contested multiple times by her male cousins -- or like Cerelle Lannister, who inherited at the age of 3 and ruled for a year before dying suddenly and her uncle Gerold became lord. Um. It's hard out there for a girl. 😭

And in Dorne, they use a different form of succession entirely -- Rhoynar tradition, what we call absolute primogeniture. Much simpler, there the eldest child inherits regardless of sex. So Doran's heirs are Arianne-Quentyn-Trystane-{Elia}-{Rhaenys}-{Aegon}-Oberyn. Of course, Dorne has its own exceptions: per GRRM, a few houses in the mountains, least affected by the Rhoynar, may sometimes follow Andal tradition instead, which is likely the reason why Cletus Yronwood was considered the heir instead of his older sister Ynys. (Mind you, Cletus is dead now, and Anders Yronwood only has daughters left, so sucks to be a man compared to Criston Cole, doesn't it?) And Arianne was worried that Doran was going to have Quentyn inherit instead of her, but she didn't know that Doran was actually planning to make her queen of Westeros, which would take her out of the Sunspear succession (in the same way that Myriah Martell married Daeron II Targaryen and her younger brother Maron became Prince of Dorne).

Now. The Targaryen succession to the throne is a different matter. For them, they've had the competing issues of tradition, king's choice, sexist lords voting sexism, even more tradition, and politics. (Sooo much politics.) Putting the rest of this behind a cut because it was already a long post but it got longer:

From the start, as far as we know the pre-Conquest Targaryens in Westeros used traditional Andal succession. (It's unknown how succession was handled in Valyria, or if there was a difference between the dragonrider families and any others.) There is a brief mention that Aenar the Exile's grandchildren, Aegon and Elaena, ruled together, but every other Lord of Dragonstone was indeed a lord, and hardly any daughters are even referred to. By the time we get to the Conquest trio, we know that Visenya was the eldest child, and yet her younger brother Aegon was Lord of Dragonstone. And later, Aegon was the king, with his sister-wives as his queens (though unlike later queens, they sat the Iron Throne and handled day-to-day governance of the realm).

The first time we see an issue with this succession tradition was when King Aenys died and his half-brother Maegor usurped (and later killed) Aenys's eldest son Aegon. By Andal tradition, Aegon and his sister-wife Rhaena's eldest daughter Aerea should have succeeded after Maegor died (he considered her his heir until he had children of his own), but instead Aegon's younger brother Jaehaerys became king. Political issues there: Jaehaerys actually successfully contested Maegor's rule, he was a strong teen boy with a sword and a dragon where Aerea was a girl of six who'd been in hiding most of her life, her mother Rhaena had been forcefully married to Maegor and had few supporters, Aerea had been named heir by Maegor specifically to cut out Jaehaerys, etc. Though note Aerea was considered Jaehaerys's heir... until he had children of his own. And as for Rhaena (Aenys's eldest child), she never actually vied for the throne after Maegor's death, but later in her life she bitterly told Jaehaerys "you have my throne, content yourself with that."

As for Jaehaerys and his children, from the start there were problems, when Queen Alysanne expected their eldest child Daenerys to be queen one day (why Alysanne expected the throne to follow absolute primogeniture at this point is unknown), and Jae was like, sure, our second child Aemon will be king and she'll be his wife! But Daenerys died as a child, and as for Aemon, he died too, albeit as a father of a grown daughter with a child of her own on the way. And there you have Jae sexism part 2, instead of naming Rhaenys as his heir, he instead named his second living son, Baelon, as his heir. So here's the precedent where the throne deliberately denied Andal succession tradition, and instead went with king's choice.

Then 9 years after Aemon's death, Baelon also died, and Jaehaerys held the Great Council of 101 AC, for all the lords of Westeros to decide between all of Jaehaerys's potential heirs. In the end, the final choice was between Aemon's daughter Rhaenys's son Laenor (Rhaenys herself was also in competition, though her claim was dismissed early) and Baelon's son Viserys. By a large percentage, the lords chose Viserys. According to maesters,

In the eyes of many, the Great Council of 101 AC thereby established an iron precedent on matters of succession: regardless of seniority, the Iron Throne of Westeros could not pass to a woman, nor through a woman to her male descendants.

This female-exclusive tradition is known in our world as agnatic primogeniture, or Salic law. However, this "iron precedent" was not that iron even from the beginning. Viserys and his wife Aemma only had one living child, Rhaenyra, so Viserys's brother Daemon was considered his heir until a son was born. And, well, if you've seen the first episode of HOTD you know what happened, because of Daemon's fuckup Viserys deliberately dismissed him, "disregarding the precedents set by [...] the Great Council in 101", but used the precedent of king's choice to name Rhaenyra as his heir and make all the lord of Westeros vow to obey that decision. Again, you've seen what happened next -- Viserys then remarried and had sons, whose grandfather used the Andal tradition to try to make Viserys name as heirs, but he refused to bypass Rhaenyra. In the end, though, when the Green Council formed after Viserys's death,

Ser Tyland pointed out that many of the lords who had sworn to defend the succession of Princess Rhaenyra were long dead. “It has been twenty-four years,” he said. “I myself swore no such oath. I was a child at the time.” Ironrod, the master of laws, cited the Great Council of 101 and the Old King’s choice of Baelon rather than Rhaenys in 92, then discoursed at length about Aegon the Conqueror and his sisters, and the hallowed Andal tradition wherein the rights of a trueborn son always came before the rights of a mere daughter.

So the law cited to name Aegon II king was one king's choice vs another king's choice, as well as Andal tradition and the "iron precedent" of the Great Council. And thus we got the Dance of the Dragons, Rhaenyra vs Aegon II.

But what about afterwards? What does Fire & Blood say about Aegon III, how did the maesters decide he inherited, through Aegon II (as his only living male relative), as Daemon's son, or as Rhaenyra's son? Well, it doesn't actually explain this point! The moment Aegon II died, Corlys Velaryon's men were freeing Aegon the Younger from his hostage prison, and then when the late Rhaenyra's (finally) winning army showed up at the gates of King's Landing, we just have Corlys saying, "The king is dead, long live the king." No maester commentary on the precedent at all, much to the frustration of backseat lawyers and historians in the fandom, who keep arguing one way or the other, or the various fandom teams, who keep arguing which side actually won.* 😅

*The answer is nobody. Nobody won.

And note that because Aegon III had no known living male relatives at the time (his brother Viserys was missing and presumed dead), his half-sisters Baela and Rhaena were considered his heirs, again despite this supposed "iron precedent". Leading to one of my favorite quotes from F&B:

Yet it was Grand Maester Munkun who put an end to the debate when he said, “My lords, it makes no matter. They are both girls. Have we learned so little from the slaughter? We must abide by primogeniture, as the Great Council ruled in 101. The male claim comes before the female.” Yet when Ser Tyland said, “And who is this male claimant, my lord? We seem to have killed them all,” Munkun had no answer but to say he would research the issue.

Though Aegon III's council and regents really wanted Baela to have a proper son, and when she rejected their (fat old guy) intended husband and instead eloped with a legitimized bastard, they wasted no time getting her sister Rhaena married to someone suitable, though she actually chose her husband, an older knight she'd become friends with in the Vale. And then Unwin Peake killed off Aegon II's daughter Jaehaera in order to marry Aegon III to his own daughter, and Baela and Rhaena did an end run with a new wife for their brother, a very young girl he didn't touch for 10 years... Of course, all this plotting came to nothing when Viserys did show up alive, so the lords could be satisfied with no need for an icky girl queen, the very idea.

The next time we see any competing issues of precedent for the succession to the throne was after Aegon III's second son, Baelor the Blessed, died without any children. By rights, per Andal tradition, his successor should have been his sister (and ex-wife) Daena. However, because Baelor had imprisoned Daena and her sisters in the Maidenvault for 10 years, they had few supporters, complicated by the fact that Daena had also recently had a bastard and refused to name the father. And of course, the Dance was still on everyone's mind as it had ended only 40 years before. So,

The precedents of the Great Council of 101 and the Dance of the Dragons were therefore cited, and the claims of Baelor's sisters were set aside. Instead the crown passed to his uncle, the King's Hand, Prince Viserys.

And Viserys II was followed by his son Aegon IV and so on. After this point, we do not have any real questions about gender and succession for a while. (Though some wonder, when Daemon Blackfyre vied for the throne, if he ever cited his mother Daena's stolen claim, in addition to being the unstated choice of his father Aegon IV. Also Aerys I named his niece Aelora as his heir after her brother-husband Aelor died, but she also died before Aerys did.) By the time of the Great Council of 233 AC, the claim of Vaella, only child of Maekar's eldest son Daeron, was dismissed immediately, though note she was also considered "simple", and Maekar's fourth son came to the throne as Aegon V.

And then in 283 AC, Robert Baratheon took the throne from the Targaryens. While many believe he took the throne by conquest (killing King Aerys II Targaryen's heir Rhaegar, while Aerys was killed by Jaime Lannister), maesters cite the fact that Robert was the grandson of Rhaelle Targaryen, daughter of Aegon V! So where is that "iron precedent" now, with Robert as the descendant of a Targaryen woman? And Robert's brother Stannis considers his daughter Shireen to be his heir, and people in Westeros in general consider Robert's daughter Myrcella to be his heir (after her brothers Joffrey and Tommen). Not to mention the fact that (claimant king in exile) Viserys considered Dany his heir, naming her Princess of Dragonstone.

So. Theoretically by the time of the main books, this "no women allowed ever" precedent for royal succession is still out there. In practice, however, the throne currently either follows Andal tradition of sons before daughters (but yes, including daughters), or the "whoever has the larger army" tradition of old. And that will be what truly decides the question of Aegon (or Jon) vs Daenerys, whether Rhaegar's line was disinherited by Aerys II or whether any maesters pop up to say "but iron precedent!" or what. Fire and blood, as always.

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greenlyren12 · 2 years

Text

Waytelem

Neteyam x Reader

word count: 1k

Summary: Tradition with Neteyam

A/N:

"Individuals create a songcord that is used as a tactile representation of their own personal or family. Na'vi create their own song cords and expand on them continuously, adding a new item to the cord for any significant life event that occurs."

"Traditionally, once a Na'vi male has passed the tests on the path to manhood and has been accepted into the clan as an adult, he is not only allowed to make his bow from the wood of the Hometree, but he is also expected to choose his woman."

Two blue feet glued to the wooden branch below you, focused on keeping balance, you strolled ahead under the shadow of greenery. Rays of sunshine pooled beneath you, serenity chirping around, causing your ears to flutter.

Stopping at almost every step, you lovingly caressed the manifestations of the Great Mother. From sensitive to the touch, peach colored mushrooms to hanging azure vines. Every breath you took was synchronized with the forest.

Happiness was simple.

As all things seemed in tune, a particularly annoying tail kept disturbing your peace. Finding the joy in tickling your nose and poking whichever eye it chose. Having enough of it, you swiftly seized it between your grasp and tugged on it.

“Neteyam, you säsrätx!”

The boy fastened his pace and collected his tail back with a toothy smile.

“Ikniyama is close, this should not even phase you.” The young na’vi snickered.

“That was your last breath, skxawng.” You evilly laughed and began to chase him, pinching the back of his legs whenever you could.

Both of you quickly climbed up the trunk of a particularly large tree. Ascending to a naturally formed platform, secluded from the eye. Neteyam was first to sit down, carefully putting his bow and arrows beside him.

You followed, going by his side, slapping his cheek with your tail. Proudly sitting down with your legs crossed, you expected a reaction - and none was received. Instead, he remained seated in front of you, a smug smile painting the lower half of his face. Not even looking at you, he busied himself with detaching his songcord from his waist cloths.

You mirrored his actions, getting yours out.

“You know, this is unacceptable behavior from the future Olo’уektan.” An emotionless statement from you, which purpose was to get under his skin.

Finally meeting your gaze, Neteyam laid his songcord on the ground.

“And this is the behavior expected from a child.” He said with a smile.

The boy did not mean for it to hurt, but it did. By the clan’s way he was an adult, having completed the rite of passage. And you - half a year younger and still a kid. Being born again, it scared you. The uncertainty never left your weary shoulders. But it was close, you could do it. Conclude it and become a functioning member of the clan.

Neteyam’s soft nature immediately noted your silence.

“You know I did not mean it.” The boy worryingly said while reaching out to caress your hand.

Meeting his copper eyes, you let your face fall down.

“I will wait for you.” He matter of factly reassured your downcast frame.

I will wait for you, he said, of its true meaning you pondered.

Would he wait for you?

Both of your lives were intertwined from small children, you had always known him. Seeing him grow from Neteyam the Mighty Fisherman to Neteyam the Fierce Warrior. The youthful adoration was now a clumsy teenage love, but none of you dared to say a word. Ever since you could remember you had always done everything together. it was natural, you just always lingered by his side and he by yours. it was funny actually, right now was one of those moments.

it was a tradition to weave your songcords together, if you had a closer look at them you would see they were almost identical.

His last words had your cheeks become a deep shade of purple now, ears back, you squeezed his hand.

“Do not speak of such things, Nete.” Your tone low from embarrassment.

His hand from yours went up to your nose to flick it so you could look him in the eye, missing your usual demeanor.

“Whatever you wish, yawne.” The young na’vi went back to fiddling with his songcord.

“Neteyam!”

You spent the next hour twining a fragment of an ikran’s tooth between the string. From when Neteyam claimed his own ikran and as it was your first time climbing the Hallelujah mountains.

With Neteyam’s help you crushed it to smaller bits, so it could be easily woven into the cord.

The time shared together was mostly spent in singing personal songs, only for your closest to hear. It served as an escape from the daily chores of life, hidden from parents and siblings.

“I think i’m done.” Neteyam broke the silence first.

You grabbed his hand and pulled for closer inspection, catching the boy by surprise. It was now your turn to make him nervous.

A shy expression and a tight line forming on his mouth, he intently looked and waited for an answer.

“It’s beautiful, Nete.” You flashed a toothy grin, fangs poking out.

“Thank you.” His expression made your stomach turn, this boy would be the death of you.

Neteyam retracted his palm and pulled out petals from a sun lily. His hand unsurely remained in front of him, scared to proceed. You curiously gazed at the boy, irises enlarging and tail nervously swatting.

“Come closer.” He sweetly commanded, closing the space between you.

For the first time ever, you silently obliged, standing on your four limbs, you waited. Something was different this time, the air was heavy, you dared not ruin it.

Neteyam carefully put the flower petals behind your ear, making your breath hitch. He pulled back, remaining a few inches from your face, noses almost touching. None of you moved, intently looking into the other’s eyes. You could see the light reflecting in his tawny orbs.

He was beautiful.

The young na’vi slowly closed the space between your lips. The sweetness of the first kiss, gentle and loving. Scared of everything, both of you barely moved. You delicately pulled back, meeting his eyes and diving back in with a smile. This time more confident, Neteyam cupped your cheek, keeping you in place, growing eager by the second. You have no idea how long you had stayed like this.

And then you felt it.

A tickling sensation on top of your heads, both of you pulled back, carefully looking up to inspect.

A woodsprite gently hovered above you.

He will wait for you.

Na'vi translation:

waytelem - songcord säsrätx - annoyance iknimaya - the rite of passage for young Na'vi skxawng - idiot olo’eyktan - clan leader yawne - beloved

#neteyam #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam x you #neteyam sully #neteyam avatar #neteyam x reader #avatar imagines #avatar 2

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authorhjk1 · 3 months

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/coldfanbou/713193109093285888/yerin-looks-so-hot?source=share

Possible red idea for your colour challenge?

Light Red

(Jung Yerin X Male Reader)

Yerin's cute moans echo through the restaurant. The small sushi place near your house has become your favorite. The food is great. But that's not the main reason. The main reason is lying on the table you sat at, a couple of minutes ago.

That main reason's tight hole is squeezing your cock right now as you trust into her again and again.

You met the young singer a couple of weeks ago for the first time. Right here. After dinner and some rough sex in the restaurant's bathroom, the two of you came to an agreement. Whenever you called, she would come to this place. Whenever you wanted her immediately, she would send you a video or picture of her asking the address you are at.

You called Yerin today. An hour ago, to be exact. She did send you a picture.

"Can't wait to get used!"

Her text made you groan, desperate to finally do what you wanted to do to her during work today.

Just like right now. Yerin's dress is bunched up around her waist, revealing her tight snatch. Your thumb plays with her clit, making her arch her back off the black wooden table.

"Oh, god! Harder!"

She is in no position to voice her demands and so you put her in her place. A loud cry, filled with a mixture of pleasure and pain is, the result as you slap her left cheek. Not too hard, but she makes a surprised face, her hand holding the red cheek.

"Quiet."

You groan, afraid you are going to get caught. She is always very loud, always begging you for more.

"What do I have to do to shut you up once and for all, hugh?"

Yerin is about to give you a cheeky reply as you forcefully bottom out inside of her. It makes her yelp instead, her hips lifting off the table. Holding her down with one hand, you reach for a piece of sushi with your other.

"One piece won't be a challenge for you, slut. Right?"

You mock her, pushing the sushi past her lips.

Yerin is unable to reply. Your thumb on her clit and the food in her mouth stopping her from doing so.

Another piece quickly follows the first and a third one joins as well. Both of Yerin's cheeks are now bulging. You slap both of them respectively, making them sting.

"Are-you-finally-quiet?"

Moans are replaced by sobs. Her lustful stare turns into watering eyes. Her pussy tightens around you and you decide to give her the final blow. Yanking the thin straps of her dress off her shoulders, you expose her chest.

With every thrust you take, her tits bounce slightly. Without warning, you slap the right one. Before Yerin can even let out a cry, you hit the left one too.

The result is Yerin's climax. You'd found out that she has a thing for pain a couple of days ago. She likes getting punished.

A couple of pieces of rice escape her mouth as it forms an O shape. Her body quivers atop the table. Her nails digging into the wood. One leg escapes your grip, knocking over a bowl of rice. With a thud, it hits the carpet on the floor, making a mess.

"Horny idiot."

You growl at Yerin, reaching forward to wrap a hand around her throat. Increasing the pace of your thrusts, you don't give her time to calm down from her orgasm. Your hand on her thigh squeezes her so hard that it's gonna leave bruises, while the one on her throat starts to cut off her air supply.

Yerin starts choking, more food flying out of her mouth and landing on the table, her hair and her face.

"I've had enough of you, slut."

Both of your hands leave her body and your each for the red dress around her waist. Without even thinking about the consequences for a second, you grab the hem. A loud, drawn out tearing sound echoes through the room as you tear Yerin's whole dress apart. A huge rip at the front. From top to bottom.

You lean over the now naked woman, trapping her in place with your weight as you start pulling out the remaining sushi in her mouth. Once that's done, Yeri tries to talk again, but you quickly shove her torn dress inside her mouth. It also covers her face once you let go of it.

The sight makes you fuck her harder. Yerin, completely naked, her torn dress stuffed into her mouth. This is what she signed up for. She gladly excepts whatever you throw her way.

"I'm gonna ruin you, you know? Little by little. Everytime. Until you actually want me to use you in public. On stage, on the streets, during a fan sign. Everywhere."

You can barely hear her muffled moans as you keep fucking her. Her tight pussy sucks you in like a black hole. Always hungry. Never satisfied. Just like you, whenever she sends you a half naked picture, or a video of herself.

"Gonna cum, fuck!"

You groan, rubbing across her clit for a little longer, enjoying the fullness of her thighs one last time, by squeezing them harshly. A moment before you climax, you pull out. Wanting to paint her whole body with your cum. The first streak hits her stomach. From her navel, up to her tits. The second one hits the red dress. It's already ruined anyways. The third rope of your cum hits her chest and the last one, as your legs buckle from this insane pleasure and beautiful sight, lands on her dark hair.

Your masterpiece is finished. And you are drained completely. You are satisfied. And as you start getting dressed, you don't even think about how Yerin is supposed to get out of here.

#ask #anon #kpop #kpop smut #kpop girls #kpop gg #male reader #gfriend #gfriend smut #yerin #jung yerin

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thought--bubble · 7 months

Text

All of your senses

Ettore X (Riding Ettore Reader)

Word Count: 2,082

Ettore Masterlist

Full Masterlist

Banners & Dividers by @arcielee

Based on THIS request

Warnings:: Ettore, Dubcon, smut (PinV unprotected). Male whimpering because I wanted it, and I can! Hehehe

Therapy! Ettore scoffs at the thought. As if therapy could ever help him. As far as he understood himself, he didn't need therapy.

Therapy is something to help a person sort through their emotions. Ettore simply doesn't have any. He does not feel things in his head or his heart. The only feelings he recognizes are physical.

You can't hurt his feelings, but you can break his nose. You can't send his heart a flutter, but you can get him off.

In order to be cleared for that damn space mission in which he would be made part of a co-ed population of inmates, he had to go through therapy and nothing was going to stop him from getting on that ship and once again having access to women.

So, with full fledged irritation and annoyance, he drudged his way down to the prison shrink. A guard flanked him on either side.

He thinks it's a bit dramatic. Yes, he can be violent, but it's actually pretty rare. Only when it serves a purpose and beating down the person who could clear him would be counterproductive to his plans.

When you open the door and beckon him inside, he becomes painfully aware of why the guards are necessary. You're his preferred victim type. A young voluptuous woman, long silky hair, skin-tight pencil skirt, and button-up top. The only thing that can make him lose control.

Ettore walks into the room, the chains connecting his hands to his feet scraping across the floor.

"Hello, Ettore." Your voice makes a shiver run down his spine. He doesn't answer you. Instead, he steps closer and sniffs before one of the guards grabs him and pulls him back, shoving him into a cold metal chair before proceeding to strap his arms and legs down.

Once Ettore is securely fastened to the chair one of the guards turns to you with concern.

" We really should stay. This inmate can not be trusted...... around women"

You chuckle at this. " therapy doesn't work well with an audience. I trust that you have fully secured him?"

"Yes, but-" you stop him with wave of your hand.

"I have full faith that he will stay right where you put him. You can wait outside the room."

The guard mumbles under his breath as he motions for the other guard to follow him out into the hallway. He gives Ettore a final stern look before closing the door, leaving the two of you alone.

You sit down in a plush chair directly across from Ettore with his file in your hand. You had been reading everything the prison had on him for the last week in preparation for this evaluation, and you had a pretty good idea of how he ticked.

"So Ettore. How are you feeling today?" You knew this approach most likely wouldn't work with Ettore. Making him comfortable didn't matter. He wouldn't open up to you just because of some pleasantries. He doesn't know how to open up, and if he did. He still wouldn't.

Ettore stares back at you blankly, his eyes endlessly scrolling the length of your form, yet never looking into your eyes.

It's carnal, the ache he feels inside at the sight of your soft skin. His fingers twitching around the arm of the chair. He wants to touch you. He needs to touch you.

"Why don't we start with your childhood. Your file says your mother died when you were young and you were left with your father, who may have had a bit of a drinking problem." If your words were affecting Ettore, you would never know by looking at him.

His eyes continued to ravish you from your neck to your knees. His heart pounding in his ears. What he needs is right there in front of him, yet just out of reach. He once again fights subtly against his restraints. The inability to move suffocating and controlling his every thought.

"Losing your mother so young, coupled with the nature of your crimes. It's my belief that you are in need of a gentle touch." Ettore finally lifts his eyes to meet yours, and you smile back at him.

Touch? His favorite word. Not care, support, or love, as all the other therapists have deamed. No. You used the word touch, the simple phrase having the desired effect.

You stand from your chair and step toward him slowly, his eyes darting down to your legs watching each step.

"Something ....... soft. " You walk up to the side of Ettore's chair and gently graze his cheek with your finger. You can see his arms and wrists fighting against his restraints, and you chuckle.

Ettore's eyes darken at the sound. How lucky you are that he is strapped down to this chair. If he were not, chuckles would not be the sound to come from that pretty little throat.

"Oh, no need to worry." You lean down and bring your mouth right up next to his ear and whisper, "I'll be gentle."

"I won't be." He growls in response, his patience waning. This challenge to his dominance is not something he likes or is willing to accept.

From this angle, you couldn't see his face only the back of his neck where the hairs stood on end, his breathing controlled and heavy.

"You will." You coo in his ear.

You place your hands on the back of the chair, one over each of his shoulders, and bring your mouth close to the nape of his neck. Just gently breathing, letting him feel the ghost of a touch across his skin.

"I'll teach you"

You enjoy watching his response. The tightening of his shoulders the flex in his bicep as he pulls and pulls against his restraints with no hope of getting loose.

"You need some tenderness. That's all. " You walk back around to the front of his chair, Ettore looks up at you, rage clearly written across his face.

A caged animal. Face to face with his prey and unable to act upon his most primal desires.

You hike your pencil skirt up to your mid thighs, and Ettore's eyes instantly drop. The look of anger quickly replaced with hunger, his arms again pulling against his restraints.

"Tsk tsk." You gently rub at his wrists. "Stop that silly boy, you're going to hurt yourself."

His eyes flit about your body wildly, and you smile before placing yourself in his lap, your legs straddling either side of his hips.

Automatically, Ettore thrusts his hips up toward you. "No," you gently scold and hold him down by the hips. "Gentle"

Ettore closes his eyes and breathes deep. A predatory grumble rattling in his chest.

"Now, sweet boy." You bring your cheek up to his, the stubble on his face a little coarse against your skin and the tightness in his jaw apparent.

"Relax," You roll your hips against him slowly, his thin prison pants giving away his excitement.

Ettore again desperately pulls against his restraints. You can't have the power here. He can't let you have the power here.

"Stop," you say, voice firm. You bring your hand up to his chin and gently message it with your thumb. You gently tug on his bottom lip before leaning in and placing a soft kiss against his lips. He doesn't reciprocate. The feeling so foreign, so strange.

"Doesn't that feel nice, sweet boy?"You move your hands so that you are cradling his strong jaw. Holding his face so he has no choice but to look at you.

"Just what the doctor ordered, hmm?" You bring your lips down to him again. Slowly pushing your tongue into his mouth. Not aggressive, not passionate.

You move your tongue in his mouth, and you feel him start to kiss back, aggressively at first, but you keep your pace steady and soft.

You bring your hands to the back of his head, tugging briefly on the hair there. You control his movement this way. Too aggressive, you tug him back.

You roll your hips against him again, falling into a steady rhythm.

With his head pulled back and his neck craned completely powerless as you grind yourself against him, he whimpers.

"What was that sweet boy?" You grind yourself harder against his erection and he whimpers louder.

"Tell me" you demand as you again increase the speed and pressure of your movements.

"Please." He finally croaks out, followed by another whimper. "God please"

"Oh, poor thing." You keep his head pulled back and lick a stripe up his neck. "Am I teasing you?"

Ettore groans, and you slightly lift yourself from his lap.

"I don't want to drive you mad." You release his hair, and he looks at you, panic in his eyes.

"No, wait," Ettore tries to reach for you but is trapped by those damn restraints.

"Oh. Don't worry, sweet boy. " You grab his cheeks and squeeze them briefly. "We aren't done"

You reach beneath you and shimmy his pants down just enough to free his cock. His mouth opens slightly at the feeling his eyes glazing over.

"Slow and gentle." You nuzzle your nose to him as he holds his breath.

He looks so desperate. So pathetic. It's so satisfying.

You press the head of his cock to your entrance and sink down just enough so the tip breeches your walls and nothing else.

Ettore instinctually bucks his hips once before you again grab him and hold him in place.

"Tsk tsk," you scold him as you hold him down and slide up and down over just the tip of his throbbing cock.

His body starts shaking so harshly that it's nearly convulsing. It takes your full strength to hold him in place, his hips desperate to move.

"Fuck fuck fuck" He whimpers loudly. "I need it. More. Fuck more!"

"More?" You sink down just a smidge further and watch as Ettore's head lulled, and his eyes started to roll back.

"Ahh!" He clenches his jaw and moves his hips subtly, getting himself just a tiny bit further.

You slide down further, now halfway down his shaft.

"Kiss me nice and gentle like I taught ya" He lifts his head and looks at you with confusion.

"Not moving another inch till ya do," Ettore quickly brings his face to yours. He tentatively kisses you with slow unsure movements.

As the kiss continues, you slide slowly down the rest of his shaft until your ass rests on his thighs and he moans into your mouth.

You smirk, you have an apex predator beneath you, whimpering, moaning, and begging for relief.

"See? So gentle you are. " You softly blow into his ear as you roll your hips slowly.

Ettore gasps at the sensation, his entire body vibrating. He's been in this prison for two years already, with no one but his hand to keep him company.

The pressure builds up in the base of his spine quickly, but he fights the urge to buck his hips, knowing you would stop if he did.

"You wanna cum sweet boy?" He nods a pained expression on his face.

You lean back in and kiss him again, this time with more urgency as you bring your fingers to your clit. The perfect mixture of his soft kisses, your nimble fingers, and his thick cock scraping against your walls bring you over the edge quickly.

As your cunt pulses around him you grip his hair again exposing his neck to you.

"Cum sweet boy. Right now, " He has no choice but to comply he bucks his hips twice and then spills himself inside of you, his mouth wide open and eyes closed.

You kiss him once more, but he is spent, mouth just hanging open lazily. You hop off of him and fix his pants as he smiles up at you, a smug look of satisfaction on his face.

You fix yourself and, without another word, to him open your office door telling the guards to take him back to his cell.

On his way out the door, he keeps his eyes on you, tripping over his shackles and being caught by a guard.

You pay him no mind and quickly close the door behind him and sit down at your desk.

You fill out the sheet you were given approving him for the mission, and of course, suggest a few more therapy sessions before he goes.

To be added to taglists please click Here

#ewan mitchell verse #ettore x reader #ettore high life #ettore smut #ettore #ettore imagine #ewan nation #ewan mitchell fanfic #ewanverse #ewan mitchell #jess fics #my red flag bf

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milswrites · 6 months

Text

We can't be friends

Cassian X Reader

Summary: Cassian had been distant. While he was still physically present around you, it was easy to see his mind was elsewhere. When you learn of the reason why this rift has appeared between you, you must make the difficult decision to step away from the man you once loved.

Warnings: Angsttttt

Notes: We've had our Rhysand breakup angst, it’s now time for Cassian's!!! Anyone else had Ariana Grande’s new album on their mind like 24/7? Stole the name from her song lol.

Cassian’s mind was wandering again. You could see it. Able to tell that he wasn’t mentally present by his blank expression and misty absent-minded gaze. His usually bright hazel eyes bore a dull film, as if someone had draped a cloudy vail over them.

You needn’t ask him what he was thinking of. Who he was thinking of. It had been clear enough to you that his thoughts had been occupied by the eldest Acheron sister from the moment he had met her in the mortal realm.

He would deny it of course, every time you brought the topic up with him he would spit some venomous comment about her poor attitude and the lack of love she held for her younger sister.

But you needn’t be a seer to observe what was going on here. It was as through fate that you had been cruelly blessed with the ability to see the golden thread which tied him to the woman.

Whether Nesta was oblivious to the bond or was just opting to ignore it you did not know. But you were sure Cassian knew. In fact you had never been more positive of anything in your life.

What you couldn’t understand was why would Cassian go about his life as though the bond wasn’t there? Why, at the end of each night, would he come back to your chambers to warm your bed?

The male continuing to crawl into your sheets after a long days work, whispering sweet nothings into your ears as he cradled you to sleep, acting as though nothing was different. As though you couldn’t feel the grating presence of the bond.

Most nights you stayed awake as the man slept beside you. Your miserable eyes trailing along the length of the golden cord, following the string as it wound its way out of your room. No doubt if you followed it’s path you would end up right outside the door of Nesta’s flat.

So why was Cassian still drifting you along even though he had met his mate? And how much longer would you have to wait before the inevitable occurred?

These thoughts had plagued your mind for the past few weeks. Eating away at you as they slowly stole your happiness. Instead, an odd feeling of guilt wracked your body. The evil whisper of your conscience telling you that you were the third-wheel. The one thing stopping Cassian from being with his mate. That you should do the noble thing and end your relationship. That it was what he would want.

You defensively hiss back at your demons whenever they took a hold of your mind, reassuring yourself that Cassian loved you. That he still chose to warm your bed every night. Silently hoping that the only reason he hadn’t told you about the bond was because he didn’t want to worry you. That he didn’t want you to question the unwavering affection he held for you.

And yet you always found yourself back here.

In the company of the male whose mind was in another place. With another person. Finding yourself once more having a one sided conversation with yourself. Cassian only occasionally offering up a small grunt of acknowledgement.

His glazed eyes which stayed locked on your form, no doubt imagining a different view. A picture of the woman he was dreaming about. A woman that wasn’t you.

It began to feel like there was a ghost in your relationship. Only you couldn’t figure out whether it was you or Cassian.

Cassian who had become a shell of the man he had once been around you.

Or you, who now struggled to be both heard and seen by the man you had devoted the last three centuries of your life to.

The once overwhelming surge of radiating joy had dimmed. A candle, struggling to stay alight as it consumed the last dregs of fuel from the wick. The flame between the two of you now fading into a dull flicker.

Your heart no longer skipped a beat whenever you saw the male. Instead it weighed heavy in your chest, as if clamped by a strong metal hand, choking the last remnants of happiness from your soul, flooding your body with a terrible sense of dread.

This wasn’t the way you wanted to live.

You knew that much. You were smart enough to know that you didn’t want to be the second option. The afterthought, even though you had known the male longer, had loved him for longer.

Therefore you knew what had to be done. Yet after sharing three hundred joyous years with the male you couldn’t be blamed for struggling to find the strength to do it.

~~~~~

But you could feel it now. The strength seeping into your body, fighting to share the room alongside your agony and grief. Mourning your relationship before it has even come to a close.

It was hard to ignore the way your hands had begun to shake. Nor the drying of your throat as you blurted out the words before you could stop yourself and cowardly continue on with the relationship which had began to drain you of the last of your happiness.

“We need to talk.”

The words came out thick and heavy. The change in the tone of your voice from your monotonous dialogue to this statement being enough to capture Cassian’s attention. The absent clouds drifting from his eyes until your determined ones were met with his hazel orbs.

“I thought we were talking?”

The male gulped as he spoke, clearly feeling the unsettling aura which filled the room. All your years together being enough for Cassian to know the gravity of what you were about to say.

“Why are you still here Cas? With me?”

“W-what?” He stuttered in answer, your eyes searching his as you tried to distinguish whether he knew what it was you were talking about. Fear building in your chest at the realisation you were going to have to say it yourself before this conversation led to nothing.

“Nesta, Cassian. The bond.”

He didn’t know. All this time he had been unaware of your silent heartbreak. You saw the truth of it in the way his face dropped, the extinguishing of the spark in his eyes.

“How long?” He gulped, guilt crossing his expression as he forced the words out. His cheeks flushing in shame that he hadn’t been the one to tell you.

“Weeks? Months? Long enough to question why you’re still with me.”

Cassian didn’t know what to say. He started at you with a crushing remorse, the glint of love in his eyes doing nothing to reduce your pain.

“I’m not a fool Cas,” you smiled sadly at your own unfortunate situation, his name catching in your throat as you reached your hand forwards to lay atop of his, “you want to be with her, I know that.”

A pained look flashed across his face, his eyes burning with self-hatred failing to meet yours in his regret. You allowed him the time for his emotions to settle, sitting in silence as you continued to grip his hand.

Eventually, once his flood of shame subsided, Cassian found the words to speak, “All I’ve ever known is you. All I’ve ever loved. I’ve never known anything else.”

“I know Cas” you flinched at the earnesty which laced his words. Cassian had never given you any reason to believe he didn’t love you. Even now, when his heart was calling to another, you still felt the outpouring of love from his soul.

“It’s not fair,” he grit through his teeth angrily, “you’ve done nothing wrong. It’s me. I’m the one who can’t control my feelings, my thoughts which dream of another. You don’t deserve this.”

“I don’t” you said simply. Your face remaining blank as tears began to fall down the males cheeks. You have had months to cry about your lost love, there would be no more tears shed by you. Not now, not when your well had run dry.

“We can still be friends though right? You’ve been in my life for so long I can’t imagine it without you” he choked the words out as if he wasn’t the one who had already ended things between you. He never had to say the words to you, his actions and his heart did all the talking for him.

“No Cas,” you shake your head solemnly, “we can’t be friends.”

The male looked to you in shock, his eyes blowing wide as he took in the force of your words. What this would mean for the two of you, for your future together. Or lack thereof.

“It’s not fair Cas,” you reason, giving his hands a gentle squeeze, emotions still holding firm in the face of adversity, “not to me and not to Nesta. We both know what needs to be done. We both have for a while.”

“But I love you” he fights your calm demeanour, his watery eyes staring into yours with an intensity, begging you to take back the words you were saying.

“We can’t go back to being us Cas, it’s too late for that. The damage has been done,” you lift your free hand to settle against his cheek, thumb wiping away the downpour of tears, “but with Nesta, with your mate, you have a chance. You should go for it. Follow your heart.”

“I’ll never forget you” he stubbornly argues, adamant that he can have everything he wants. Nesta by his side and you in his life. His love blinding him, allowing his selfish wishes to be spoken aloud.

“I think for both our sakes forgetting each other may be our best option baby.”

You couldn’t help it, the silver tear which escaped your eye, betraying the cold emotions you were trying to display on the outside, your thumb still caressing his cheeks as your eyes flittered across his face. Taking in everything that was Cassian for what would be the last time.

“That’s what I’m going to do,” you cried, “I’m sorry Cas but it’s the only way. I have to forget.”

It was the acceptance that was the hardest part of all. The admission that while you weren’t Cassian’s once in a lifetime, he was yours. And it was your love for him that would allow you to let him go. Your will for him to be happy, outweighing the pain of seeing him in another woman’s arms.

#cassian oneshot #cassian imagine #cassian x reader #cassian #acotar imagine #acotar #fanfic #sarah j maas #a court of thorns and roses

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miabebe · 7 months

Text

Where you're convenient (I)

Scenario - Yes it was circumstances that forced these arrangements but why was it that at the breaking point of this relationship, all you want to do is hold on to it?

Pairing - Husband! Joshua × reader

Genre - smut with plot, mild angst in the form of pining, fluff to top it all off in the end haha

Word Count - 6.5K (These are getting ridiculously long now, apologies)

Warnings - Fingering, protected sex, oral (male receiving), cum swallowing

A/n - This was supposed to have all 3 stories but clearly I went overboard with just 1. There other 2 will be released as part 2 (Dk) and 3(Woozi)!

When Joshua brought a girl home tonight, he wasn't expecting you to be there. When their tongues clashed in a frenzy as she clambered into his lap on the couch, he wasn't expecting to hear your soft sobs from the kitchen. And when she began stripping out of her little black dress, he definitely wasn't expecting you to walk out, dressed in just his shirt, with a tub of ice cream in your hand.

The situation concluded with 3 sets of screaming - first was yours in utter surprise, next was the other woman's in anger and the third was his own, in pain. I mean, what else was he expecting the reaction to be when he introduced you as his wife. Of course the other woman went ballistic and threw whatever was in her arms reach straight at him. Thank god the whole ordeal finished in about 15 minutes with minimal damage.

When Joshua turned to you however, your tear stained cheeks were flushed red. As he crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow, unable to hold it in anymore, you burst out laughing. Even if it was at the expense of his embarrassment, at least you weren't crying anymore and for Joshua, that was a win.

As he picked up the scattered things around the house, he watched the smile slowly fade off your face. Not wanting to see you slip back into your misery, Joshua decided to drag you into his own with a recount of what actually happened today. He was supposed to go on a date, to meet a friend of a friend who had expressed her interest in him for a long time now, despite knowing the unusual arrangement between you two. He had finally decided to put behind his series of meaningless hook ups and give serious dating a shot, so he dressed up, chose a restaurant, set a time and was waiting for her at the bar.

But apparently, though he was willing to leave behind his philandering days, they weren't willing to let him go. Barely minutes after he got there, he was approached by another woman (aka the one who just nearly took his head off) and she began asking him a few questions. Now, maybe Joshua should have answered her briefly sent her on her way, or at least told her the seat next to him was reserved for someone, or at most, removed her hand from his thigh a fraction of a second earlier, so his sweet date of the night would not have walked into the restaurant to see another woman cozying up to him.

And that was the end of his date before it even started - no matter how much he tried, she wouldn't pick his calls or even answer his texts. Giving up on his original plan of the night, Joshua had decided to go home when the lady before him offered just the same - a dinner and a conversation. Honestly, Joshua didn't see the harm - either ways he had to eat and the woman before him seemed capable of a decent discussion.

That was until she decided to let her actions do the talking instead, her foot slowly running up and down his legs, the neckline of her dress somehow slipping lower and lower, and her doe like eyes slowly morphing into sirens. When she excused herself to the bathroom, with a not so subtle follow me gesture, Joshua panicked and pulled her out of the restaurant instead, straight into his car. Cardinal mistake number two - maybe at that point, since it was evident they were headed to his house, he should have told her about you, but there was not a lot much talking he could do, even though it was not his mouth that was busy-

At this point, you covered your ears, loudly refusing to hear any further, as you walked back into the kitchen, missing the amused smile on Joshua's face. He leaned against the entrance, watching you scouring the cupboards for something, his guess was chocolate syrup because you liked pouring it all over your ice cream, especially if it was vanilla. That must mean the pint of strawberry is over because there was no way you'd pick vanilla if the strawberry was right there. Joshua made a mental note to buy another pint the next time he went to the super mart.

As he predicted, he watched you drizzle the chocolate excessively and throw in a bunch of m&ms too. Okay, things were definitely a lot worse than they seemed. When you finally sat, sliding yourself onto the kitchen island, Joshua asked you what you're doing at home. You confessed your date stood you up. You had been talking to this guy for almost a month now and you really did like him - enough to be excited for the date, to buy a new dress, spend hours getting ready, only for him to not turn up to pick you up.

Joshua shook his head annoyed, just as a fat tear dropped down your cheek. You looked so much like the first time he saw you and that was almost a year ago. A year, 3 months and 14 days to be precise, when he found sitting outside the lawyers office, eyes filled with tears, head hung low, sobs echoing in the silence.

Being the gentleman he was, he handed you a packet of tissues and asked if you were okay. You seemed guarded initially, nodding your head at first, then slowly shaking it. You were new to the city - a runaway from home because your family didn't approve of your relationship with your long distance boyfriend. After months of planning, you found a great job here, waited for the perfect moment to escape home, flew across the seven seas only to find your skunk of a boyfriend cheating on you. Now neither could you go back to the home you left behind, nor could you stay in this country without a visa, which you were supposed to acquire after marrying him.

Though Joshua hated his job, he knew that being in human resources and dealing with employment contacts day in and day out, he could perhaps help you get a work visa instead. Maybe if he did you this favour, the universe would do him one too and God knew he badly needed one, so he offered to take you out for lunch, promising to go through your contract and see what he could do. Sadly, as lunch progressed it became more and more evident that there was nothing he or you could do. The clauses clearly stated that the job was only for a long term resident or a citizen since the company was at it's limit to sponsor a work permit.

He watched as your face fell, and you spoke about how much you loved that job and how this was your dream. Sympathising, Joshua told you how he too was so close to losing his dream. He always wanted to quit his pathetic corporate job and start his own business but despite having the most excellent ideas and strategies, he never managed to accumulate the necessary capital.

When his grandfather passed away recently and left him an inheritance, he thought maybe he had finally gotten a way out but apparently there was a roadblock even there. The will clearly stated that he was only eligible to receive his share a whole year after his legal and certified marriage - one last ploy by his grandfather to make sure his only grandson got married and continued the family lineage.

Laughing, you noted it was funny how on a random Tuesday, two people who desperately needed to be married ended up meeting over a pair of tissues and a lunch, like the universe had played a brilliant cosmic joke.

No sooner than the words had been spoken, the both of you shared a very obvious look of realisation. This wasn't a joke, it was a solution, right there, clear as day.

It took about 5 minutes of silence, 50 different emotions and 500 various possibilities running in both heads before Joshua finally spoke up, leading to the fastest known proposal in the history of mankind. And surprisingly, and thankfully, an even faster acceptance. Joshua wasn't sure why you trusted him enough to say yes or even why he trusted you enough to ask but I guess that's just how desperation works.

Within a week, standing outside a courthouse, the two of you got married and by that evening you were moving into his house. While you needed to be married for just a few weeks to get through all the visa formalities, Joshua needed you to be his wife for a whole year so you asked for something else in exchange - to be his roommate, free of rent, for as long as he needed you to be married to him. Though Joshua thoroughly hated the idea of sharing his space with someone, a stranger moreover, he agreed if it meant he could get his hands on that money.

Living with you wasn't really that hard. You were at work for much longer hours than him and even if you were at home, you mostly kept to your room. You were neat when you used common spaces, chipped in for groceries and utilities and were agreeable for the most part. Of course there were some habits of yours that did bothered him, like the 500 alarms you kept to wake up every morning, the fact that you never washed your coffee cup and that for some reason, you never put your shoes on the shoe rack.

Eventually, with time, Joshua got used to both your habits and your presence. Though you weren't friends yet, the two of you went from being courteous and polite to being friendly, getting take out together from time to time, watching movies on rainy days when you were stuck in the house together. It was a symbiotic bond - he'd help you out sometimes, picking you up after work on days when it was too late to catch the train and you'd help him out sometimes, accompanying him to his family gatherings to appease his many many nosy relatives.

Joshua liked to think of the specific moment that the both you became friends as the night he came home to you crying. He knew you weren't back with your ex but as much as he disapproved of it, you had been meeting him frequently. He watched you, over the last many months, some days happy as a lark, and on some whisking away a tub of ice cream into your room followed by the sounds of sobbing. Joshua wanted to tell you to break out of this unhealthy cycle but it wasn't really his place to say anything so he did all he could from the sidelines - making sure you ate on time, that you had enough coffee after your sleepless nights (in a clean, washed cup) and that you were not always wallowing away in your sorrows.

That night when Joshua saw you sitting in crying on the couch, he thought something was wrong but it turned out, for the first time, everything went right. You had finally ended things - you had finally removed that horrible man from your life and had decided to move on. As the two of you sat and brutally cut up a the pictures of your ex together, somehow a friendship was born.

After that, things were awfully comfortable in the house. Not like they weren't before but it was different now. The two of you regularly cooked together, hit the arcades on the weekends, went shopping - just started spending time not out of need or obligation but simply because you enjoyed each others company. Not only were you a source of comfort for him, Joshua began seeing you as in inspiration - the zeal with which you worked for your dream, the way you always managed to pick up the pieces and move on, Joshua was in awe of it all.

Even though it had been years, Joshua hadn't managed to move on. He hadn't managed to heal from his college girlfriend cheating on him with his best friend and instead resorted to the life of a loner who seeked occasional hookups, nothing lasting, nothing meaningful. Until you changed his mind. You told him although you were cheated on too, love was the most beautiful feeling you had ever experienced and one had to be truly lucky to find that. You assured him he was a great guy and that there was a woman out there who would see that and that he shouldn't close himself to the possibility.

It took a while to convince himself but eventually, Joshua decided to put himself out there. No, not because you had begun talking to other men on dating sites. Also not because he hated that you would grab dinners with other people instead of making them at home with him. And definitely not because after tomorrow, you'd be gone - the two of you would finally be divorced.

Joshua looked at you perched on the island top, wiping away your tears. Funny how he always found you crying like this whenever your lives were about to take a drastic turn. He sighed, walking up to you, wiping away ice cream at the corner of your mouth with his thumb and thoughtlessly slipping it into his own mouth as he turned to the fridge to grab a pint for himself. You gripped your spoon a little harder than you intended to as you glanced at his back, looking away only when he turned to you.

Sure, over the year, you had gotten used to such acts of his - holding your waist as he moved you out of his way, tucking your hair behind your ear when your hands were busy washing dishes, grabbing the glasses on the shelf above from behind you, his chest pressed into your back. He'd just do all this and move on, normally, like nothing happened, like your heart wasn't racing in its cage.

Joshua sat across you on the kitchen counter, leaning against the wall behind, stuffing his own face with a large spoon of the ice cream. You tried to brush away your thoughts and tears and continue eating but you couldn’t. You couldn't take away that one thought that had been plaguing you all day - that all of this was coming to an end soon.

You lied when you said your date had stood you up today. After you had dressed up, waited for a whole hour and then called your date to leave him a terrible message with a whole lot of profanity, he reminded you that your date was in fact scheduled 2 days later. As usual, you couldn't get one thing right. Of course you messed up, of course you were a klutz, you always were one but this time was different. This time, somehow you were more distracted than usual, mind all over the place. Perhaps because you knew what was coming tomorrow. Perhaps because you didn't want tomorrow to come.

You stared at the calendar on the fridge, at the red circle around tomorrow's date sitting like a dark reminder that time waited for no one. Tomorrow would come no matter how much you wish it didn't. No matter how many tears unwillingly rolled down your cheeks and how many tubs of dessert you emptied or how much you wished you could hold onto this moment forever.

Joshua who was ranting off about how it was all your dates fault, that you had no reason to cry and that there was someone better out there, him, faltered when he saw what your eyes are fixed on. He felt a pang in his chest, right where his heart sat.

He cleared his throat, bringing your attention back to him, asking if you'd contacted any movers to shift your things - you were leaving by the end of this week to live with a bunch of girl friends you'd made at work. You smacked your forehead, forgetting yet again to do just that despite setting a whole bunch of reminders over the week. Joshua laughed and offered to call them for you instead, but you shook your head. You couldn't depend on him anymore, you needed to learn to live without him.

He admitted that he was so used to you, it was going to be hard for him to live without you too - how was he ever going to find a housemate as good as you? You agreed that he couldn't, you were the best fit for him. He laughed, claiming you needed him as a housemate more than he needed you, who else would wash your coffee cup every morning? You stared at him for a bit before nodding, agreeing. How could you possibly find someone as good as him?

It was like history was repeating once more, the two of you looking at each other with the evidently the same thought running your minds, unsure who should voice it first.

After a long time, yet again Joshua took the lead, asking what you thought about continuing to live here. He did still need a roommate to share rent (he did not) and it would be a hassle for you to move so many things and besides, his house was closer to your workplace. You admitted that if he was okay with it, you didn't mind, you hated dealing with packing and moving anyways. The brightest smile Joshua gave you in response confirmed that you made the right decision, despite the other concerns were brewing at the back of your mind.

You then asked him what this meant for both of you and this marriage. He shrugged saying he didn't think it would make a big difference if the divorce happened or not - after all what was marriage but getting a roommate for a lifetime. You wanted to tell him that its a lot more than that but chose to be content with developments so far. At least for now, you still had him by your side. You could think about the future later.

Silence, one that was heavy with thoughts and emotions, took over again, before Joshua decided to lighten things up.

"We should renew our vows."

"You wanna get remarried??"

"No, I mean we should base this new beginning on a new set of promises. Like..... you could promise to buy a bigger shoe stand for the house and I don't know, maybe finally start putting all your shoes on it?"

"Oh really? Then I guess you could promise to stop lying down on the couch cushions and flattening them?"

"What? I don't- Fine, then you can promise to start putting 2 alarms instead of 20?"

"......"

"I can hear it all the way till my room."

"Why didn't you ever tell me you idiot?"

"Just... didn't want to be someone who keeps complaining."

"Maybe you should promise me you'll start discussing things that bother you with me more."

"Then promise me that you'll never again let me come home to you crying and eating on the couch whose cushions I promise not to flatten."

"Alright, then promise me you'll let me pay rent now."

"Okay, that no, absolutely not. You don't have to-"

"Hey these are my vows-"

"Then I promise to never let you pay rent-"

"Shua-"

"Nope."

"But I can't just stay here without-"

"This remarriage is over."

"Shua please-"

"By the powers vested in me by ordained at home dot com-"

"By what?-"

"-I once again pronounce us husband and wife."

"Okay fine but-"

"I may now kiss my bride."

You didn't even realise when he had slid off the counter, walked up and slotted himself between your dangling legs, hands pressed onto the granite on either side of you. He looked at you, matching your equally amused expression, lips curling into a soft smile.

Many days later he swore he wasn't actually going to kiss and you were the one who kissed him first while you adamantly insisted he iniated it, he was the one who leaned in. Either ways, the fact remained the same - you kissed. Yes you were both basically laughing against each others mouths and both tongues ans all four hands were polite, but it was a kiss nevertheless, stirring something that you didn't even know existed between the two of you.

You pulled back, letting your eyes roam over his features, as his eyes drifted back to your lips, like a moth to a flame. Running your finger along your bottom lip, he stared at it, wondering why the taste of vanilla and your strawberry chapstick was so strangely addictive. When he met your eyes again it was like every nerve ending on your body had been lit on fire and his touch was the only thing that could calm it down.

This time, neither of you were really sure who went for it first but once again, his mouth was on yours, a lot longer, a lot more desperate. When his hands ran up your thighs and pulled you closer, wrapping your legs around his waist, you practically moaned into his mouth, making his lips curl into a satisfied smile. That was all he needed.

"Y/n....." He moved down to your jaw then your neck, groaning as your legs tightened around him, pressing his length against you. "I'm trying to be a gentleman, I want to be a gentleman but you're making it really hard."

Running your fingers into his hair, you pulled him off you, catching your breath. "And what I want is you..." His eyes flashed the same desperation as yours. Fuck it. It was now or never. "What I want is you in me. Gentle or not, I don't care-"

Before you were even done he's unbuttoning his shirt you've donned, beyond pleased that you're not wearing a bra, his ministrations continuing on your neck making you choke on your words.

"Wait, Shua, here?" You stuttered as his fingers grazed over the swell of your breast, mouth close behind.

"My kitchen, my wife. Who's to stop me?" His fingers ran down and along the seam of your underwear, taking an unecesary step away from you. "Do you want me to stop?"

Grabbing a fist full of fabric under his collar you shook your head. "Don't you dare."

And from there there was truly no stopping. In a flash he had stripped you of your panties and you had unbuttoned his pants, making him quickly step out of it, kicking it away. With his hands wrapped around your thighs, once again, he pulled you towards him.

"Here's what we're gonna do." His mouth littered kisses along your jaw. "I'm gonna prep you real quick and fuck you first. Then I'll take you to my room and treat you right. Is that okay?"

God you didn't know he had a mouth like this on him. It made you clench with desire as you nodded hurriedly, wrapping your arms around his neck. Joshua smiled at your desperation as he slipped his hand between your bodies, fingers finding your clit. Having been untouched for so long, just his touch sent electricity jolting through your body making you moan into his mouth as he captured it in a kiss, sighing at how it felt like music to his ears. Fucking hell, you were going to be the end of him.

He let his fingers graze down between your folds groaning at how easily they slipped between your wetness.

"All for me?" You nodded again, bringing a hand down to circle around his wrist, compelling him to move faster. "Patience sweetheart, I'll give you what you want."

And with that he easily slipped a finger into you, pumping it slow at first, before slipping another one, groaning at how tight you were. You fell forward, burying your face into the curvature of his neck, pointlessly hiding how desperate you were for him. But Joshua knew - he could feel your arousal drip down his hand as he moved his fingers, scissoring you open.

"Faster." You raised your head and whispered, sending delightful chills down his spine. "Hurry up and fuck me Shua."

"I will, I'm sorry sweetheart." He cooed back into your ear, "but two won't be enough for you to take me."

You could feel yourself literally drool at his words. You knew he was big. Perhaps he didn't realise but all those days he walked about commando in those grey sweatpants of his, you had seen the faint outline and understood he was a well endowed man. Now the thought of having that inside you was nearly driving you insane.

"Shua please..." You pleaded as his third finger began working you. "Let me see you."

Joshua nodded, pistoning his fingers a few more times before pulling out, making you clench around a strange emptiness. With a swift motion he pulled down and stepped out of his boxers, smiling slightly at the way your eyes were focused between his legs.

God you wanted that dick inside you. In your mouth, in your hands, in that little hole that was currently throbbing like crazy.

Getting yourself together, you finally managed to peel your eyes from his length and focus on what had to be done next. "Do you have a condom around here? I don't....."

You trailed off watching the very momentary disappointment flashing in his eyes. Joshua knew it was unreasonable to be upset over this yet he couldn't help but sigh when he realised what he envisioned could not come true. Yes Joshua was neat and well organised man but sex was something he preferred messy. The moment he felt how wet you were he knew what he wanted to do - pump you full of his cum, watch it drip down your pretty pink folds as he slowly fucked it back into you with his fingers, till you begged him to come. He really wanted to take his time calculatedly ruining you.

"I'll get on the pill from tomorrow." You continued, unable to decipher what was going on in that pretty head of his. "Then you can fill me up how much ever you want."

It was the promise of this happening another time that finally made Joshua move as he placed a quick kiss on your cheek and jogged out of the kitchen into his room.

In his absence somehow suddenly, the countertop felt a lot colder under you and your brain finally decided to start working. Sure you were attracted to this man and clearly he was into you too, but what did this mean for the both of you? Were you two people casually living and sleeping together or was there something deep and genuine that was worth holding on to? The way he said my wife was still ringing in your ear.....

Joshua walked back to you, waving a silver foil square with a grin on his face. As he stood before you and ripped it open you let your eyes run down his body. He was built so exquisitely and you've craved this man for so long and even though now, he was seconds away from fucking you stupid, you realised that was not enough. You needed more. You needed him entirely.

You stripped your unbuttoned shirt away as Joshua raised an eyebrow at you, rolling on the piece of latex. "I liked seeing you in my shirt-"

Pulling him to you, you captured his mouth in yet another long kiss as your hands on his shoulders pushed his shirt away too. "I don't want anything between us."

Joshua broke away from you, staring at your confused face intently. Your words made that little organ in his chest clench because he truly had no idea what they meant. He had no idea if this was just a result of two poorly executed dates or if you felt anything deeper for him. He knew what he felt though - he didn't want just this night or just nights like this. He wanted you entirely. He wanted to tell the world you were his wife, that you were his and that he was yours. God he was so in love with you.

Grabbing your hips he pulled you off the counter and turned you around, ignoring your little whines.

"But I want to see you."

"You have all night for that sweetheart." He ran his hand down the soft skin of your back, tightly gripping an ass cheek. If he saw your face as he fucked you he was afraid he could never again touch someone who wasn't you. He would never be able to get the way you would look as you come out of his mind. "I'm all yours."

Palms fixed on the cold granite helping you stay up, you looked over your shoulder and kissed your lover fervently. He kissed you back, hand snaking around your waist, slipping to your core, sliding his fingers between your folds again. Feeling your legs shake around his hand he smirked and brought his digits coated in your arousal up to your mouth, feeling you eagerly suck on them as he aligned his tip at your entrance, trying his best to not burying himself deeply into you.

"Do you taste that good sweetheart?" Hand moving to grip your jaw he turns your head, slipping his tongue into your mouth. "Fuck, I have to go down on you tonight. You're delectable."

Whining, you pushed your hips back against him, hoping he'll sink deeper into you, fill you up just right. Maybe because it had been so long since you've been intimate with anyone or maybe because you're finally in the hands of the man you were desperate for, but the moment Joshua gave in and pushed all the way in, you could already feel yourself throbbing around his length.

"You're so big...." You whispered, hands failing to grab anything on the smooth surface. Yes you had realised he was big but you didn’t think his girth would feel like this. "Fuck Shua, you fill me up so nice."

"Yeah?" He smiled against your shoulder, dropping a quick kiss on it as he started slowly moving his hips. "You feel incredible too sweetheart. Fuck, I lo-"

Your eyes widened as Joshua came to a complete halt, the grip of his hands on your hips loosening. You couldn't see but he was looking at you with a mix of confusion, desperation, fear and love that would have made you say those three words to him in an instant. You'll tell him. When the times right you'll tell him. But right now, you needed him to continue.

"Shua please." You brought your hand down to your clit, drawing furious circles. "Please move, please-"

And your begging turned into moans when he gave you just what you wanted, pulling back entirely before pushing all the way in, picking up the pace.

"So beautiful," He muttered, fingers surely leaving bruises on your hips. "You're so beautiful sweetheart. You feel like heaven."

"You- fuck." You couldn't possibly make a cohesive sentence with the way he felt inside you. "Shua I- oh god."

He chuckled against your ear at your inability. "Continue baby, what are you saying?"

"That....shit." You faltered as he purposely hit that exact spot with his tip again and again. "You... I..."

"My name sweetheart, that's all you need to say."

And that's all you gave him, mumbling his name over and over again as he removed your hand working on your clit and replaced it with his own. In an instant you felt yourself come around him, letting out what Joshua thought was the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard. Oh he could make you come just around his dick at least another two times tonight - he was no where close to finishing.

As he let you come down from your high, his hand played with your breasts, only giving you slow languid strokes, ready to get rougher whenever you were.

"I need a minute." You muttered. "It's been a while, I'm sensitive and my legs hurt...I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Joshua slowly pulled himself out and wrapped his arms around tightly, pulling you against his chest. You could feel his racing heart behind you as he peppered small kisses along your shoulder, keeping you encircled in his arms. As much as his embrace felt like heaven, his hard length against your ass felt like yet another invitation to sin.

"Do you have more condoms?"

"Yeah." Joshua's eyebrows knitted in confusion. "In the drawer of my nightstand."

"Good." You smiled, turning to him, placing a kiss on his lips. "You'll need them."

Watching you push him back and sinking down to your knees was probably the hottest thing Joshua had ever seen in his life.

Wrong.

Pulling the condom off him, tossing it aside and wrapping your hand around his bare cock was so much better.

He groaned, throwing his head back as you teasingly licked the tip, working your hands on him.

"I'm not going to last much longer like this."

You smiled before taking him fully into your mouth, Joshua's hands on their own running through your hair, making your moan around his length. Sure, like any other guy Joshua did enjoy a good oral session but the way you looked up at him from between his legs might be his most favourite thing about tonight. Especially with that mischievous glint in your eyes.

"Easy sweetheart." He growled as you took him in so far he felt the back of your throat. He didn't want to go as far as fucking your throat tonight - it was supposed to be all about you. Besides, with the way your mouth worked, its not like he was going to last long enough anyways.

And sure enough, with a few more bobs of your head and strokes of your hand at the base of his length, he felt himself close.

"Fuck, I'm gonna-"

Nodding, you pulled yourself off him with a pop and opened your mouth and that's all it took for him to finally feel all that build up crash as he stroked himself hard and fast, coating your tongue with his cum.

You watched him struggle to catch his breath as you swallowed his bittersweet release, opening up to show him it was all gone. Joshua ran his thumb along the edges of your mouth wiping away the spit running down the corners.

"What a good girl." Aaaaand you were soaked yet again, core throbbing. "Who knew you had a mouth like this on you."

You grinned. "There's so much you don't know about me."

"Yeah?" He helped you up to your feet, and with an arm under your knees quickly lifted you into his arms. "Then let's find out."

And the kitchen was only left with the echo of your happy laughter as his room got ready to witness the rest of the very, very long night's events.

Joshua barely remembered what exactly happened last night. All that was branded in the frontal lobe of his brain was the image of your face when came over and over again on his fingers and mouth and dick. Your pretty sounds, the way you gripped his hair, the way your nails raked his back - it was all constantly running in his mind since he had woken up.

It had been about half an hour since the sunlight streaming in the room awakened him. Of all the amazing things that went down last night, the sight of your half naked body curled up against his chest in his bed was the most memorable. He had no idea your lips parted like that while you slept or that you frequently whined in your sleep. He wanted to know these small things about you. He wanted to know everything about you but he wondered if you would give him the chance to do that.

Just as he tucked your loose hairs behind your ear, his phone on the night stand began ringing loudly making him curse under his breath. As Joshua turned to pick up the phone, he felt you stir beside him. It was his divorce lawyer.

"Mr. Choi, morning." Joshua sat up rubbing his temples. He didn't even have the chance to talk to you about the future of this relationship and he was already getting a reminder to end it.

"Afternoon, Mr. Hong. Just called to let you know I've got all the paperwork ready."

"Right."

"Make sure you reach on time. Earlier would be better. I'd say at 2."

"Okay."

"Bring all the legal documents regarding your inheritance and finances, we need to talk about alimony and..."

Mr. Choi's words which Joshua had already heard a 1000 times faded away as he felt you slowly stretch awake and clamber into his lap.

Good morning, he mouthed to which you smiled sleepily. God, he wanted this everyday.

You raised an eyebrow in question. Who is it?

Mr. Choi.

"....and I think that's all." Joshua turned his attention to the call again, missing the way your sweet smile faded. "You are getting ready to leave right? It will take you nearly an hour to reach in this traffic..."

Both of you turned and looked at the watch strike 1.

"Yeah we're..." He cleared his throat looking at you, unable to say the words. "We are...."

You wrapped your arms around his neck, recalling the way he was with you last night. Fuck, I lo-

This was love. This had to be love. And if he loved you and you loved him.....

And finally you took the lead this time, pressing your forehead against his, shutting your eyes tight and softly shaking your head.

Never in his life did Joshua feel the sense of relief he did as his heart flipped in his chest and he grinned. You didn't want this. You didn't want this which meant you wanted him.

"We're not coming today Mr. Choi. My wife and I don't want to get divorced."

With that he cut the call and threw his phone aside, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"Is that what you want?"

You opened your eyes to see the beautiful man in front of you looking at you like nothing other than you mattered.

"You are what I want."

Joshua captured your mouth in a long, deep kiss, swallowing his words, showing how much he wanted you too. He'll tell you those 3 words some day, when the time is right. And you'll tell him too - what was the hurry when you had your whole life with him ahead of you. Right now, you could show him instead so you pushed him back onto the bed, leaning over him as your hips began grinding against his hardening length. Joshua smiled at you lazily.

"You're insatiable Mrs. Hong."

"Only for you Mr. Hong."

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beautyofaphrodite · 11 days

Text

Happy Friday!

As Friday is a day to honor Lady Aphrodite, every week I like to create a post similar to this, where I talk about a certain topic and have questions for you to share or think about. Last week’s post can be found here. As always, this may not apply to everyone.

Today’s Topic: Aphrodite and Being Queer

Tumblr is known for being a very queer app, so I wouldn’t be surprised if many who see this are part of the LGBTQIA+ community. I’m going to refer to us a “queer” instead of the acronym because it’s long lol.

Lately, as there has been more acceptance and representation for queer people, more and more have been realizing they’re queer. We have always been here, but we are more and more seen and loved than we have been in the past.

Lady Aphrodite has always been a queer goddess. She is a goddess of love, and that means all love, whether that means love between a man and a woman, to two people of the same gender, to more than two in a relationship, to queerplatonic love, or any way that love can be experienced. In addition, She can be seen as trans or intersex with Her form of Aphroditos, someone with a “feminine” shape and “male genitals”.

Many, including me, see Her with more modern labels of queerness. In communication with Her, She has shown Herself to be transfeminine, pansexual, and polyamorous (completely UPG, not a belief everyone will share and She may use different labels or none at all if you ask Her).

Because of Her domains and how She is perceived, many of Aphrodite’s beloved followers and worshippers tend to be queer. Not all of them, of course, but many. For an example that is not modern, take Sappho, the poet where the term sapphic comes from. She often mentioned Lady Aphrodite in her poetry.

In my experience and the experiences from others that I’ve heard about, Lady Aphrodite helps a lot with identity and who we are. I know She’s helped people with internalized queerphobia, navigating relationships whether queer or not, embracing gender identity and expression, and much more.

I love our queer Goddess so much 🫶 I chose this topic in particular for this week as I’ve been struggling with being perceived as female lately. Usually I don’t care how people see me, I know nobody will use my pronouns irl so I just don’t care but I’ve been dressing feminine because I like it and have been getting more feminine comments and I knew that would happen and that that’s what happens when I present femininely but it sucks :/ (sorry for the little vent y’all)

Today’s Question

Does Lady Aphrodite appear queer to you in some way? If you are queer, has She helped you with that somehow?

Challenge

Be a good ally to others in the community or just the community in general. This includes those you don’t understand or think are “weird”. Ally is a verb, not an adjective.

Thank you all for reading this and happy Friday! As always, please think a little bit about the questions and feel free to share your answers if you choose! I will share my answers in a reblog as always.

To anyone who sees this, may you notice love and beauty all around you.

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sweetwolfcupcake · 3 months

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Wildflower: 06

The Secret Garden

John Wick x Reader

Category: Short Series

Warning: Stalking, mentions of violence

Note: John is relatively younger in this fic( late thirties to early forties)

*Thank you the original creator for making such an amazing GIF. I downloaded it from Google.

Unedited

Wildflower 05

According to John’s rational, calculating mind, his job was done. He got her to the hospital, paid the bills, played his part in Winston’s unexplained act of taking the young woman under his wing, and ensured his name was nowhere in the records.

The hospital's owner knew’ John and was an old acquaintance of Winston. By now, John was sure Winston learned of John’s visit and that he brought her to be admitted there.

According to John's rational mind, he should be at the Continental, or at least answer Winston's messages (only two since the morning– he was too refined to send more than that).

But for once, his rational mind was conflicting with his instincts. It was not the first time, but it was a rare occurrence. But there he was, blended among the hustle and bustle, hiding in plain sight— keeping his eyes on the hospital. The entrance, precisely. She could be walking out any moment and with the concussion, he might have to—

His jaws clenched at the sight of Norton helping her out. The younger male’s hand rested on her waist, supporting her. Something was burning in John’s chest because he realised that he had been thinking of being at Norton’s place.

John frowned, realising how irrational he would sound if he vocalised his thoughts. Where were his thoughts going anyway?

What the hell was he doing?

He had an explanation for… his ‘treatment’ of the petty criminal. He needed to take back her mother’s ring for her.

But this?

This was not how he was supposed to feel. He felt like he was losing control over his instincts and John hated losing control. Having control over himself helped. There was a feeling that at least he had some control over his life, some sort of freedom.

Losing that control threatened the little freedom and control he had over his life that was perhaps sealed for hell the moment he was born.

He was a man who moved with a purpose— what was his purpose there? He should be relieved, she would not need any help and he could just go home, or to the Continental.

Instead, he stood there, discreet with his eyes and body language but could not help the scowl that faintly appeared on his otherwise unreadable face.

His eyes followed them as they got into a taxi. With his gaze zeroed on the vehicle, he quickly noted the number in his mind before getting inside his car. He knew he could not rest until she was safe in her home.

Without the shadow of Alex Norton lingering around.

John found himself feeling slightly at ease after Alex left. Another open contract. John received the message already.

Three million dollars was a lot. No wonder Alex chose to take it. But John could not bring himself to leave just yet. He sat in his car, just watching her window. At nightfall, it was easier to make out what was happening with the lights on and her fumbling around. Her shadow stumbled a bit now and then, and John found himself frowning in frustration.

Why was she moving so much?

Stupid girl!

John was surprised at the level of obliviousness that surrounded her. Who would go to a park near dawn? And for what? To watch the sunrise?

Not that John did not appreciate such peaceful moments, but he was John Wick. But she? He could tell she had never even thrown a punch at anyone. He felt it when he first shook her hand. He was taken aback by the softness. He was not used to it, but he would admit it felt… good.

John gulped.

He would rather not remember how her form felt pressed against his. He could be gentle, he was gentle with the women when he wasn’t fighting them for survival, and even then, he was never brutal with the kills. He made it quick.

But touching her felt different. It made him think twice about pressing too hard, holding too tight, even the day he just let her bump into him, he somehow regretted wearing the vest because he could see that it hurt her.

John was not a boy. He was old enough to understand where this was going. He simply could not bring himself to look into its eyes and admit it.

If he did…

He tore his gaze away from the window and busied himself with drinking some water. He stubbornly kept his gaze down, refusing to look up again. His phone dinged with an alert.

An exclusive contract.

There were people he could not deny, after all.

With one last glance at her apartment window, John twisted the keys and drove away into the night. It was time to hunt.

—------

Laying on his bed with a bandaged ankle was not something ‘normal’ people would enjoy. John, on the other hand, was thankful. He was half-expecting a fracture. A sprain was no big deal— nothing compared to what he was trained to endure, or what he endured growing up.

John had turned numb to the pain. He would go on, despite the pain. He would go on without acknowledging it, at least until he was done with his task at hand. People might say he had a formidable sense of commitment and focus. But in reality, it was all he knew. To John, it was the way of life. It was how he was trained, and how he grew up.

The world outside gave him much more agency. Not exactly freedom—but the chain binding him loosened up, and the cage expanded. But he was owned; the whole jungle was the High Table’s prison, after all.

He had been a part of this ‘jungle’ for as long as he could remember. Ruska Roma was simply a prison within this prison— this great ‘system’ he was pulled into the moment he was left orphaned. He thought he could live with it because this was all he knew.

But then came (Y/N) (L/N)...

With her expressive eyes brimming with determination, a smile so kind and sweet it made him sigh. A laugh that sounded like bells of spring and a carefree, oblivious kind of happiness he knew he could not have and a touch so soft, so non-deliberate, it irked him.

Everything about her was simultaneously off-putting and intriguing.

John was compelled to admit, that it irked him because her existence, her presence itself felt like a mockery to his life. She was not chained, unlike him, even though she was born to a woman who once belonged to the same hell he was now a part of. It irked him because she was everything he used to dream of as a child. She had everything he wanted so desperately during his naive years before he was finally disillusioned.

It irked him how many times a day he thought about her. About how vulnerable she was and yet had a certain fire within that he knew would burn him down if he dared venture close enough. This flame, or whatever was within her was soothing for now, but he was afraid of it. Afraid of nurturing something he could not contain, he could not control.

Like his thoughts moving to her now and then—each day, he thought longer, more about her, each time he did, he felt himself softening in ways he never thought he was capable of. He thought he had turned completely numb. She proved him wrong even without trying to.

And it irked him in every way possible.

Even the simplest of proximity they shared, he felt it all over his skin, in each of his veins, he felt it in his heart, he felt it in his mind. It was bizarre, bewildering, and infuriating.

But if he found her infuriating, why did he end up doing all the things he had done so far? Why did he end up watching over her behind the quiet shadows of the night, watching her sleep from the darkest corner of her room? Why would he follow her to her little trips at the parks and bicycle rides if her presence irked him? Why would he fracture the ribs of the man who hurt her, and tried to mug her? He broke his fingers, that man’s wrist would never be the same…

John felt the rage that he used to feel while growing up in Ruska Roma and watching helplessly how unfair everything was, and how powerless other children like him were.

Maybe that was why he felt that rage—he had become someone his younger self would run to for protection. When he watched, the man hurt her. Something in him seared, it stung in all the worst ways possible, and he could not stand the feeling until his knuckles were marred with that rat’s blood.

He had been rather merciful, though.

Anyone with a sane mind would call him a monster. Was he not a monster anyway? But at this point, he had no care for morals anymore— he was only surviving, as every other assassin like him was. To hell with the morals, John knew he was strong enough to be feared.

And if fear was the way to keep the little freedom he had earned, he would let fear reign.

—---

It was another day. Just another day of the same cycle. Waking up, having breakfast, taking the prescribed medication a week after being discharged, and going to work. Yes, that was the ‘regular’ part of the day. It was after work, when she was passing by the park, that (Y/N) noticed a familiar figure on the bench.

His hair was brushed back but seemed a bit fluffier—casual. Yes, that was the difference. He was in a plain white T-shirt and a pair of jeans. She had seen, John Wick only in dark suits. Black. Yes, that was his preferred colour, it seemed. But as she watched him sitting on the bench, a sandwich in his hand and a coffee cup by his side, he appeared so...unreal.

It did not make sense. He was a stranger, more or less, and she had seen him hardly four times(?). But he looked almost angelic to (Y/N). Especially with the setting sun casting a glow on the side of his face.

What the hell are you even doing?

Too late, she was already within his earshot. He turned to her, alerted by the disturbance in the otherwise tranquil park. And just as she thought, the sunlight fell just the right way on his eyes, and they seemed ethereal—perhaps brown was the most loved by nature.

She was expecting some surprise in his eyes but they were so calm, so hypnotic, it surprised her instead.

“Hi.”

“Good evening.”

Wow, even his greetings were classy.

“Um, yes, good day—I mean, good evening.” (Y/N) felt the warmth of embarrassment on her cheeks before noticing the mirth in his eyes. It was faint, but it was there.

“I saw here, and just thought, I would say hi.”

This time, the corner of his lips rose higher “Oh, you live here?”

“Yes, just a few blocks ahead…You come here often?”

He took a moment to answer, and throughout that tiny moment (it felt stretched to an hour), his eyes seemed to assess her before he replied.

“Sometimes.”

John did not verbally invite her, only removing the cup from the bench, leaving space for her to sit before turning his gaze ahead. And while, yes, this was a silent invitation, her mind had gained expertise in overthinking.

Did he really want her to sit?

Or was it him being polite?

He looked fine by himself. At peace too.

And then—

He turned to her again “Are you in a rush?”

“Uh…no?”

“Then, please...” He gestured with his hand, glancing at her. It seemed more like a side-eye but, whatever.

“You like to sit here alone?” She asked, taking a seat beside him, not too close, but not noticeably far.

“Solitude is good for my sanity.”

Stoic and quiet, he seemed every bit of a man who would appreciate solitude over company, like her.

“You seemed so to me.”

From the corner of her eyes, she could see him turn to her. Even seated, he towered over her, sitting straight—as if a soldier were on alert.

“How much of me do you know?”

“Enough to draw precise conclusions, I believe.” (Y/N) turned to him. The last of the sun’s rays kissed his face tenderly. He was a sight to behold, she realised.

There was a twinkle in his eyes, and the shade of brown softened. “You know only what you see from afar. There is no reason or good for you to get any closer.”

“Why? My mother was a part of this world.”

“And she kept you away. That is for a reason. There is nothing to see here, (Y/N).”

“I have unanswered questions. If Winston could—”

“I believe he does what he sees as best. Especially for you.”

“Why does he care so much about me? Why did my mother trust him over anyone else?”

John sighed “I’m afraid I have no answer.”

He answered with a contemplative frown and looked away, setting his sight once more on the darkening sky as the remnants of the set sun remained.

“Sorry, I am not great at conversations, and the past months of moving in all the information have taken a toll, I guess.”

“I understand.” He assured her kindly.

A long silence followed after that. It was indeed awkward initially. She had no new words or energy to set another tone. But it grew to be comfortable, at least for her. They sat there in silence until the street lights blinked on and the moon turned more prominent against the black sky.

“It’s late; I should go now.” (Y/N) stated, but made no effort to stand up.

“Sure”

“It was good talking to you.”

Faint amusement danced in his eyes as he turned to her. “I do not recall much talking.”

Yes, they had been sitting in silence for at least fifteen minutes. The of sight of mirth in his eyes made her smile

“I cannot say I hated it.”

He smiled at her. It reminded her of an intimidating and misunderstood large canine trying to socialise. An awkward smile that came with a nod. But nothing mattered because it was in his eyes. The soulful and melancholic pools of molten chocolate had the perfect tinge of golden brown when the sunrays fell on them a few moments ago before the sky darkened.

“Okay, so, see you around? I guess?” (Y/N) forced her gaze away, not wanting to come off as creepy.

“Maybe.” John replied, “Let me walk you home.”

“Oh no, there’s no need. My house is just a few blocks away…”

By the time she was closer to finishing the sentence, he was on on his legs.

“Even better, it’s not far then.”

“Yes and—”

And he was already walking ahead. It turned out, that walking home in a comfortable silence was not that bad.

****

#yandere john #younger john wick #yandere john wick x reader #yandere john wick #john wick x reader #dark john wick

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lifeless-discodancer · 2 months

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You know how sometimes in DE fics when Kim transfers to precint 41 he and Harry don't get partnered together but instead Kim gets parnered with Judit and Harry stays with Jean?

Something i've never seen before is Judit becoming Harry's partner and Jean becoming Kim's wich like i get it, it sounds like the worst possible outcome but i think it would be so funny to read because on one hand we have Judit who has been working at C wing for only two months and who, based purely on the small amount of knowledge we have about her personality, is probably the epitome of the boring cop archetype, getting paired with Harry who will not leave her rest or leave her alone and will probably drag her into a bunch of weird shit and stereo investigations; and on the other, funnier hand we have Kim who above all appreciates a professional work relationship and who is also the number one champion of the holding grudges contest, and Jean who is honestly a huge asshole, incapable of forming any relationship that isn't codependent and who already left a weird (bad) impression on Kim by not doing his job for days and subjecting him and two other people to watch his public break up with Harry (also he came second in the holding grudges contest).

So this leaves us with:

Judit in the same position as the little girl who gets sat next to the loudest boy in class with the hope that she will be a good influence on him, except that she's not a little girl she's an adult cop with kids of her own that keeps getting asked to babysit other adult cops probably because she's the only woman in the unit. And i'm not saying this in a "Judit is the team mom" sense but in a "her workplace is so fucking misogynist" one. [Actually, now that i think about it this could be a good opportunity to explore the sexual harasment she experienced at the hands of her last partner, as well as her experience and the expectations her superiors and coworkers have of her, and the ones she has of herself, because she's the only woman in a male dominated workplace and (and a female cop on top of it (notice the emphasis on cop)) that she can't really fulfill because of the kind of person she is (a very normal, passive and tired kind of person). Also i think Harry would work nicely as parallel to her last partner. Where's the fic about it?]

Kim and Jean who already started on the wrong foot back in Martinaise even if none of them knew it at the moment. For them i can only imagine the most passive agresive partnership to ever exist but probably at the start of it they were doing their best to keep things civil. Jean was trying because, even if he thinks Kim is "bewitched by the shitkid", he's working with a decorated police lieutenant and, at least in his own mind, he's a very professional officer and he has to leave a good impression of himself and the C wing (he's definitely not doing that); Kim was trying because at first he didn't have much of an opinion on Jean (he swears) and, since he was complaining so much about Harry's work he thought Jean would at least have a good work ethic and be professional, also he too wanted to leave a good impression on his new coworkers. Of course the niceties went to shit the second one of them opened their mouth to say something that wasn't completely work related (it was like a game of chicken for days, weeks maybe, who will be the first to set fire to this perfectly normal, totally no filled with masked mutual annoyance, work partnership (it was Jean)). After that they argue like a couple of old ladies, and sometimes Kim thinks "maybe Jean is not that bad" but then Jean says something rude, or ableist, or homophobic or just something about Harry that Kim can't agree with, and then he dislikes him again, other times Jean thinks "maybe the lieutenant and i are finally understanding eachother" but then Kim will start lecturing him about something with the most condescending tone, or he'll drive his car like he's being followed by a missile, or give him a nasty side eye when he sees him taking drugs or even worst, he'll defend the shitkid when he's "rightfully" mad with him, and then he dislikes him again. This keeps for the entire duration of their partnership.

Harry is probably just a bit bummed out because he and Kim won't be partners anymore but he will try his best to not say that to Judit (he's a feminist after all), still he has to recover quickly from the disappointment since he has some real shit to worry about now (Shit like: I have to pay rent to my landlord?!!? How do i get into my bank account? Do i even have a bank account? Wait, who's my landlord? And other questions you would probably have too if you ever got amnesia that severe). He complains to Judit about not having Kim as a partner and Judit is rightfully offended but doesn't say anything (poor woman give her a break). He spends the entire duration of that partnership dragging Judit around Jamrock in side quests while she tries, unsuccessfully, to get him back on their current cases (he does not listen to her because he's a shit feminist), still he comes around to finish the original cases eventually (Harry apologizes a lot for not listening to her, Judit tells him it's fine because she's honestly so tired and it's so awkward(if she goes home to find even more work she's going to implode)). I think that with some time they would figure out how to work together, more or less, and they would have a pretty stable partnership.

Idk how to end this. I just thought it would be a fun idea and suddenly i blacked out and woke up with a small esay in front of me. I hope you enjoyed this.

#i was writing a fun idea and then i had something about judit's deepest issues¿? and a small comedy about kim and jean being partners?!¡¿#at least the harry bit doesn't confuse me yippie☆#why do i do the things i do #god i'm so cringe #disco elysium #harry du bois #kim kitsuragi #judit minot #jean vicquemare #lifeless-discothoughts

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hyperfixiation-station · 6 months

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Guilt-Tripped Pt.2

TW: Canon-typical violence Part 1 part 3 Pairing: Ghostxreader(ish) Summary: The mission does not go according to plan

Wc: 1758 A/N: The fights scenes are fast-paced/rushed intentionally, I was trying to give off the feel of combat, if it did not work please let me know and I'll fix it :)

You were off your game, that much was clear. Not only was this mission located in your mother country, but the base you were clearing was one you had been “trained” in. You were anxious, and you knew Ghost could tell. But, true to form, he did not pry. That was one of the reasons you liked him. Everyone else would have asked questions but Ghost didn’t. He respected your privacy, understood that not everything is meant to be shared.

“Ghost, how copy?”

“Solid. Moving in.”

“Copy.” You unsling your gun from your shoulder, following Ghost into the abandoned building. You cover his six as you clear the building, finger hovering over the trigger of your gun. The ghosts contained in the walls were dogging your footsteps, begging for you to turn and listen to them.

“Again”

“You’ll break them.”

“Only the weak.”

“No, please!”

“Do it again!”

“Do not defy me.”

“Again.”

“Y/N.” You snap back to attention, “Buildn’s clear.”

“Ay. Let’s look for the intel then.”

“It’ll go fas’er if we split up.”

“Ah…I guess.”

“Stay frosty.” With that Ghost heads up the stairs, leaving you to pray he doesn't find anything he’s not supposed to. You take a deep breath and turn away, searching the rooms more intently this time, on the lookout for files and a USB drive instead of hostiles.

The first room has nothing, just some rotting pieces of wood that used to be furniture. Still, something about it leaves you feeling deeply unsettled. You step out and head to the room across the hall, your hairs standing on end. The second room is basically the same, as are the third and fourth. And fifth. And sixth. After the final room reveals nothing, you head upstairs to help Ghost.

The stairs creak under the weight of you and your gear, the sound adding to the already eerie atmosphere. You grit your teeth, forcing yourself to walk through the hallways that haunt your nightmares.

Ghost is in the first room you come to, his face lit up by a computer that somehow is still working. Alarm bells ring in the back of your brain, but you ignore them, instead focusing on the video that is playing.

“Again.”

The video is grainy, but you know the scene well. 3 girls stand side by side, guns in hand.

“Again.”

They drop to the ground, legs swinging around before standing.

“Again.”

They fire simultaneously, one loud gunshot echoing through the room.

“Again.”

“Aga-

The video cuts out, but you still see what happened next.

“-in.” You are faster this time, the girls next to you running out of stamina. You had been at this for hours, a constant stream of crouch, stand, fire, reload. You drop into a crouch, sweep your legs around, and come up, you and the girl to your left firing at the same time. You don’t even flinch as the girl to your right is dragged away.

“Again.”

Crouch, stand, fire, reload.

“Again”

Crouch, stand, fire, reload.

“Again.”

Crouch, stand, fire, reload.

“Again.”

Crouch, stand, fire, reload. And once again, you are faster. The girl to your left is dragged away, leaving only you. Your palms are blistered and your knees are torn open, but you won.

“Y/n.” You stare at the target in front of you, breathing hard.

“Y/n!” You raise your head, searching for the woman in charge of your training. Except the voice calling for you is male, and…British?

“Y/n!” A hand touches your shoulder and you don’t think, just react. Your gun is buried between the persons ribs before your vision even clears.

“Fuck. Ghost I…fuck. I’m s-fuck.” You stagger back, blinking hard as you holster the weapon. Ghost has his own weapon trained on you, though his finger is not on the trigger.

“What in th’ bloody hell was that?” He hisses. You inhale, exhale, and shove your emotion down where they won’t bother you.

“I am sorry.” You say softly, “I zoned out and you…scared me.” He doesn’t say anything in response, just grunts and shakes his head, holstering his gun. You hold your breath as he stares at you with an indiscernible look in his eyes.

“We'll talk when we get t’ base.” He says finally. You nod, fingers trembling as you follow him into the next room. You hadn’t noticed when you were clearing it before but the rooms up here are much more preserved. This room is empty, save for a barre attached to the wall, the one way mirror above it shattered into a million pieces.

The girls dance in unison, repeating the moves over and over and over again. Your tutu makes your skin itch, and your toes are bleeding from the hours of non-stop practice. Still, you don’t complain. Even at seven years old, you know better than to voice your sorrows.

“Good y/n. Again.” Legs burning, feet aching, skin itching, you begin the routine again. You bring your leg up but your ankle rolls, your form wobbling.

“Oh y/n. I had such high hopes for you.” Your body is thrown across the room, stars dancing across your vision as the acrid smell of smoke fills your senses. Wait…smoke?

“Y/n!” You inhale sharply, looking up at Ghost. But he’s not there. In his place is an aging man with a road face and short beard.

“Dreykov.” He’s older, much older, but you would recognize him anywhere. You look around the room, trying to find any sign of Ghost. The simple movement sends waves of pain through your skull, makes your vision blurry. But you've operated in much worse condition before.

“Where’s Ghost?” Your voice sounds oh so far away.

“Hello to you too darling.” You shiver almost imperceptibly at his voice, “Why don’t you use that pretty little head of yours and tell me?” You can barely hear him over the high-pitched whine bouncing around your skull. Oh, right, your ears are ringing. Ringing, why are your ears ringing? You blink hard, taking in your surroundings. The room is filled with smoke, the remnants of the outer wall scattered across the room, the result of an explosion. Something sticky trickles down your face, dripping into your eyes as you put two-and-two together.

You and Ghost had walked into the room, you’d been violently thrown into a flashback, and while you were off in la-la land, Dreykov must have blown through the wall. But that still didn’t explain where Ghost was. You inhale slowly, trying to focus your vision. And-there! You spot a hole in the floor, and the only thing you can think is that Ghost fell through.

Later you’ll blame it your disoriented state for forgetting he was there, but really you just didn’t want to face Dreykov alone. You leave him in the room, leave him to escape with the intel you'd come to collect, and sprint down to the first level to find Ghost. You jump over fallen bits of ceiling, dodging debris as the building slowly falls apart around you.

Ghost is prone on the ground, a Widow prowling around his body. They always did like to play with their food.

Without thinking you launch into the fray, tackling the Widow over his back. It is a short but intense fight, serving as a distraction as Ghost forces himself up. It ends when she throws a sloppy punch towards your face. You grab her wrists, yanking her forward and sweeping her legs out from underneath her. She hits the ground at the same moment you unload your weapon into her chest.

“You always did think you were better than us.” You spin around as you reload, swaying slightly as your vision blurs again. Another widow, one you failed to notice, stands behind Ghost, a gun pressed at his head.

“I did not.” Your voice is calm and even, not betraying your inner distress as your eyes dart around the room as you try to find a way to get her away from him.

“Yes you did.” The widow snarls. She draws another weapon, slamming the butt of it into Ghost's skull with startling force, leaving him to collapse like a ragdoll.

“We were always second best, always the ones punished, always the ones in trouble. Nothing compared to you.” You begin to circle each other, your eyes trained on the gun she has aimed at you. The motion makes you sick, and you can’t hear anything over your focus on staying awake.

You blink, and suddenly the widow is in front of you. Just as she wraps her finger around the trigger Ghost, who'd be faking his apparent unconsciousness, tackles her. You can see how the scene will play out, and it doesn't end pretty.

You throw yourself at the Widow Just as she plants her gun in Ghosts chest, sending both of you flying across the room. She ends up on top you so you buck your hips, sending her flying forward. You're moving on pure instinct at this point, to dizzy to think.

You wrap you arm around hers and swing your leg over her side, using the momentum to flip positions so that you're on top. You draw your firearm, but are a millisecond too slow.

She flings you off, your skull bouncing of the pavement as you fall to the side. You manage to keep a grip on your weapon but God's does your head hurt.

You blink yourself back into awareness, coming too just in time to watch Ghost grapples with the Widow for he gun. Ghost may be good, but the Widow is great.

You are too dizzy too see straight, but that's no problem. The Institute had made sure you could shoot a target blindfolded, so you close your had around your 9 mil, raise it front of you, and fire.

You are awarded with a female cry of pain, a thud, and silence.

"You...solid?" You wheeze, gun still held tight in your hand.

"Aye. Y'...y' no' lookin' t' gud there." You can barely hear him, swaying slightly where you stand. Gods your head hurts.

You step forward, practically collapsing into Ghost. You can feel his heart beating rapidly, and you think he's talking to you, but you can’t hear him. Though blurry, your eyes are drawn to the Widow laying in a pool of blood, her brown hair pillowing her head.

It makes you sad, almost, to see someone who didn't get saved. Survivors guilt is what your court-therapist had called it. You thinks it was a load of bullshit but it's not like...is she moving?

You flip around Ghost without thinking, unloading your weapon on the Widow just as her bullet pierces your flesh.

tbc

Tell me what you think!!

@greatkittencloud

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satrs · 1 year

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𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐥

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ; He just wants to show you that he's the right one. Is that too much to ask for?

ꜰᴇᴀᴛᴜʀɪɴɢ; Geto Suguru x fem!reader

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ; 1.6k

TAGS; NSFW CONTENT! MDNI!. friends to lovers. fluff. nicknames. unprotected sex. just suguru being suguru. biting(like once).

ᥲ/ᥒ ꜝꜝ ✎ I NEED HIM SO SOOO BAD MAN. Idk I just feel he is MADEE for the friends to lovers trope.

Suguru was so sick and tired of seeing you get hurt and used by those filthy men. Years and years, he had to witness his beloved best friend get hurt over and over again, crying your frustrations and your sadness out in his arms.

It was in one of those moments when he realized - he wouldn't ever treat his woman like that, you like that. He should be the one instead of those immature boys, you only needed someone like him- a man.

He would carry you like a princess and treat you like a queen, just how you deserve it. They couldn't care for you like he did, he knew you longer than them. What food you like and dislike, what your favourite color is. How you are when your sad, and happy. How gorgeous you look in dresses. And lingerie. He knew everything about you and was positive that he could treat you- please you, better than any man.

He would just have to let you understand that too.

"He's really not worth it Y/N. Your better than that." His words didn't help your weeping tears, hand tightly gripping onto his hoodie as you let everything out on his chest.

Suguru's hand took ahold of yours, causing you to look up at him with your eyes red from all the tears you shred. His mouth felt soft and warm on your hand, "please baby. You know I don't like to see you cry." That was only partially true. Of course he didn't like to see his best friend cry because of other men or out of sadness, but if he would be the one to make you cry while you were writhing in pleasure? That's a different story.

The sight of you crying made both his heart and dick ache at the same time, feeling the need to spoil you with pleasure till you wouldn't know the end of it anymore.

"Why is it always me Suguru? What am I even doing wrong?" Your tears were threatning to fload again, causing your best friend to act as quickly as he could. "It's not your fault Y/N. You just didn't find someone who knows your worth yet."

"And when will I find that someone?", you sniffled, causing the long haired male to look down at you. He's right here. Me. I'm the one for you. But he wouldn't dare to speak out those words, you had to be aware of it yourself.

His gaze flickered around your room. arm snaking aroung your shivering form to pull you closer into his chest, "Eventually."

His fingers catched the tear that was about to sneak it's way down your cheeks, wiping your eyes clear to see. His next words followed in a low tone, hoping you would catch his intentions. "You just don't know what's right infront of those pretty eyes of yours."

You catched onto his words through your sniffling, eyes lifting to meet his, retreating from his hold as you intensily looked at him, face mere inches away from his. "What do you mean?" Your question was stated carefully, to scared of what the answer might be.

Did he really?- no way. That would be to good to be true. You're just friends afterall, don't let it grow to your head.

Your thoughts were cut of by the sensation of soft lips pressing into yours, catching you off guard. Suguru's hand was quick to sneak around the back of your neck, holding you in place so you couldn't pull away.

He poured his all into the kiss, taking in a deep breath, the smell of you deeply imprinted into his brain, brows furrowning as he expressed his love through this sensual exchange.

You understood now, you finally realized what he meant earlier. He was right, you didn’t realize what was before your eyes- it was Suguru himself. How did you never read the room? Get the signs? Like the nicknames he gave you and made your heart flutter, or the touches that were a bit too intimate for just 'a friend'.

Soon you returned the kiss, deeply sinking into him, taking in all of his emotions, soaking in the feeling of his warm tongue exploring every part of your mouth. "You don't know how long I've waited for this.", he had said, mouth departing from yours to make quick work of your clothes.

You just wordlessly watched him, feeling like you're in a fever dream. The feeling of his lips against yours is so addicting and wonderful, not to mention the swift movement of his fingers, robbing sighs and moans out of your mouth. He was quick to strip out of his clothes himself, motioning you to straddle his lap. You complied, swiftly moving ontop of him, enveloping his lips into a kiss again as your hips subconciously grind onto his errected length. He growled into your mouth, hand squeezing the fat of your ass as he moved you steadily on himself. "Me too. Wanted this for so long Suguru." Your words shocked the man, his brows frowning in confusion. You did?

"Please Suguru. Need you." Your pleas snapped him out of his trance, lifting you up lightly to hover you over his red angry tip. You bit your lip in satifaction and threw your head back at the feeling of his tip bullying itself past your entrance. "shh, I'm here baby, You got me."

"Mhm." You nodded your head frantically in daze as he bottomed out, feeling completely full of his grith. "Feels so good." He couldn't get enough of the sound of your breathy voice, his hips moving backwards only to snap right back into yours, causing a yelp to errupt from your lungs. He let out a moan at the feeling of your velvet walls embracing his length and wrapping so tightly around his angry mushroom tip, head thrown back onto the couch. "fuck."

His hand traveled to the back of your neck, smashing his lips against yours and swallowing all the moans he tickled out of you. "Who is making you feel this good baby, hm?" He shortly broke away from the kiss, placing one quick messy and open mouthed peak at your lips, his hand now traveling down your spine, goosebumps appearing on your whole body.

The speed of his hips increased, his hand firmly holding the back of your thigh to rock you back onto his incoming thrusts, your clit nudging his pelvic bone with every movement.

Suddenly his movement stopped, hand traveling behind you to take ahold of your hair, tucking your head back lightly as his eyes starred daggers into your soul. "I said," he adjusted himself, harshly thrusting up into you after every word that came past his lips, "who. is. making. you feel this good?"

A loud cry of his name errupted from your lungs, face twisting at the feeling of his tip hitting your cervix over and over again. Pleased with your answer he let his grip go and sneaked his arms around you instead, tightly embracing you and pulling you closer to himself, both of your bodies rubbing against each other with each hard movement of his hips, sweat glisterning and adoring the both of you.

Your hot breath tickled his neck, his breath equally occupying yours, peppering wet and messy kisses onto it, harshly sucking on your neck that pulled out a mewl out of you. "You're so fucking sexy", he muttered against your neck, one hand traveling back to your back, harshly smacking it. "All mine, right?"

Nodding your head rapidly, your head leaned forward to capture the man's lips in another kiss, your moans drowning in Suguru's mouth, only some of his groans managing to escape the intense kiss.

With each roll of his hips you grew closer to your limit, moans turning higher in volume. Suguru noticed your incoming orgasm right away, hand sneaking between your bodies to rub your bundle of nerves to draw out your high.

You came undone under his actions, teeth catching your bottom lip as your head threw back in euphoria, the knot in your stomach snapping in half.

Your walls clenched tightly around his, drawing low moans out of him as his thurst turned sloppier. "I'm gonna- shit Cum for you baby." You could only manage to moan in return, body falling ontop of his as his head hung low in your neck, teeth biting down into it to hide his sounds and also create a visible mark on you.

A pleased sigh escaped your lips as you felt his hot, white cum fill your hole, some leaking out and running down his length. Suguru was breathing heavily just like you, calming down from his high.

Your head rested against his chest as he slid out of you, his cum dripping down your thigh while your exhausted form drew forms on his chest with your fingers. This made the young man giggle, catching your attention as you looked up at him with such an adoring smile that made him fall in love with you a second time.

Your nose scrunched as Suguru drew circles on your hip while placing a soft kiss to your temple. "This is such a kitschy couple thingy." He only returned you a lovestruck smile, head leaning down to capture your lips in a quick kiss. "So then we're a kitschy couple then?", he questioned, still a bit cautious because he was scared you might change your mind.

Your lips felt hot against his as you chased his lips again, his demeanour relaxing at your action.

"Yes we are."

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