#instead of dealing with it when i'm sixty | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

honey-beann · 1 year

Text

Background Noise

rk boys (Nines, Connor, Sixty) x Reader Smut

Word count: 4,244

It was a beautiful morning, especially for Detroit, and Connor was feeling almost too content, watching the birds fly past the window above the kitchen sink as he sat comfortably at the breakfast bar.

The new house was perfect, notably different from the apartments he had lived in prior, and he found himself feeling so at home within it that he was filled with a joy he had only experienced once before, in an entirely different situation.

He allowed his mind to drift back to that night, your pretty dress, your ecstatic grin, and the calm waters lapping gently against concrete and wood sticking out clearly in his mind, even in memory alone.

Unbeknownst to the outside world, he examined his calendar internally, his LED briefly blinking yellow before calming back down to blue almost immediately as he checked just how long it had been since that wonderful afternoon.

He startled a bit (though he hoped only internally), at the realization that it had already been two months, and made a mental note to pick up some flowers to commemorate the event.

He had only just begun considering what type of flowers, when he heard his name get called from the speakers of the laptop that sat on the countertop in front of him.

"Do you have anything to add, Connor?"

Connor fixed his eyes on the screen and smiled politely at the speaker as well as the many college students who sat uncomfortably in their cramped desk seats a few hundred miles away at NYU, where he, Markus, Kara, North, and Simon were currently giving a lecture over video call.

"I'm sorry, I must have gotten lost in thought for a second, what was the question?"

Connor could see North cast the section of the screen he was taking up on her end a brief glare, but Kara, who had been the one to ask for his input in the first place, just smiled easily and waved his apology off.

"No problem. It was just about android-human romantic relationships and how the laws surrounding them are believed to change in the next few years. Markus mentioned his plans to have marriage legalized, and North spoke on the amount of negativity that these relationships face outside of the legal system, but I thought you might be able to provide some extra insight, if you felt comfortable."

Connor gave a slight nod, his smile returning to his face as he turned his attention back towards the large crowd of students, who, despite having been required to attend for credit, all seemed rather invested, though that was hardly any surprise given the speakers present.

Ever since the revolution, Connor and Markus in particular had gained a significant deal of notoriety due to both the rolls that they played, and the romantic relationships they had.

Markus had now been in his relationship with another android for a few years now, and Connor had been in his with a human for around the same amount of time, and people found that to be immensely interesting.

Here was Connor, the deviant hunter, a former prototype android designed for detective work, dating a human as if that were the most natural thing he could possibly do, and honestly, the media ate that up.

There were photos of you in the tabloids, articles about you posted online, and you were both criticized and adored by androids and humans alike for your relationship with Connor, even after all these years.

Of course, there were many other juicy aspects of your romantic life that the media loved to fixate on, but Connor hardly thought those were worth bringing up now, unless he wanted to complicate things extensively.

So instead, he chose to give the simplest answer he could without making it seem as if he were against the idea of speaking on his personal relationship (because he most certainly was not, in fact, he thoroughly enjoyed talking about you whenever an opportunity presented itself).

"Well, in my experience, android-human relationships are very similar to those shared between only humans and only androids. There are a lot of stereotypes, like that android lovers are superior, or that human partners can connect easier, but truthfully, I think most of these concepts are contrived by those who don't accept these relationships as legitimate and seek to weaken them because of that."

Just as he finished up his statement, a student raised their hand, and Kara, as the moderator, was more than happy to call upon them.

"Yes, you in the front row?"

The girl seemed nervous as she spoke up, but even so, Connor was able to make out her question easily.

"So if these stereotypes that Connor mentioned can be eliminated or lessened to a certain degree, can we anticipate the legalization of android-human marriage to occur shortly thereafter?"

Markus was quick to respond,

"Well, the legal system doesn't necessarily depend on these stereotypes being less prevalent, but it would definitely help our cause. That being said, I believe it won't be long now until android-human marriage is legalized, and that seems to be the consensus among many in the U.S. There has been a significant increase in the number of android-human betrothals within the past year, and I think that points to a general agreement that non-regulated marriages will definitely be legalized in the near future, it just depends on how long it takes for the government to recognize that from a legal standpoint."

Connor nodded in agreement,

"The data trends towards a general air of acceptance at the idea of legalizing these marriages. I myself proposed to my fiancee just two months ago with the expectation that in a slightly lengthened wedding planning time frame, the legalization process will be completed."

Soft murmurs echoed out among the crowd at this, as very few people were aware of your engagement (though the media had spoken frequently on the sudden addition of a rather expensive looking ring to your every day outfits).

Connor fought back a slight grin of amusement at the surprise that his words had caused, choosing instead to turn his attention towards the class's professor as the older man asked a question about android unions in the workplace, something that was much more in Simon's wheelhouse than Connor's.

He listened intently as his friend and colleague spoke in depth on the issue,

So intently in fact, that he neglected to notice the bedroom door opening until it was too late for him to do anything about it.

Out you walked, donning only an oversized dress shirt, slippers, and underwear, your hair mussed up, and your expression still rather drowsy as you made your way across the living room and into the bathroom, fully in frame of the camera you were all too unaware of for the majority of your trek.

Connor bit back a chuckle, his cheeks tinted a slight blue color as he admired via his screen how lovely you looked in your pajamas despite your immense lack of effort.

Of course though, he wasn't the only one to notice, and when you walked back through towards your bedroom after using the bathroom, there was a strong silence present from both the speakers as well as the audience, all of whom were rather distracted by the intrusion. Finally, clearly hoping to move on for the sake of time, the professor cleared his throat and spoke up through the newly awkward atmosphere.

"Excuse me, Mr. Anderson, but I believe there is someone in the backgrou-"

He cut himself off suddenly when an arm reached over from just out of frame and pulled you in toward it, shock clearly written across your face as you were yanked straight from view, yelping at the unexpected tug.

"Er, is everything alright?"

The professor spoke quietly now, his brow furrowed in confusion as Connor offered him a polite smile and nod,

"All is well, I believe my partner simply forgot about our professional arrangement this morning and neglected to use the other bathroom upon waking up."

"But who was-"

"As for the individual that removed her from the camera's view, I'm unsure if that was the rk800 or rk900, but I can assure you that our fiancee is entirely safe."

The crowd remained silent for a few moments as a great deal of the students took in what was for them, new information.

Of course, some larger fans and smart speculators had been able to piece together the relationship you shared with Sixty and Nines, but most people chose to ignore the complicated question of your romantic life beyond you and Connor.

After all, in the eyes of the media, Connor was a big sweetheart, while you were his equally innocent and adorable life partner, and how could they ever push that image out if they speculated that you were also engaged to both the rk800 model that had tried to kill Connor and Hank prior to deviation, and the rk900 model who had been strictly designed for military use when it came to hunting down deviants?

The short answer was that they couldn't, and as a result, the already rarely posted images of you and either of your partners who weren't Connor struggled to gain much traction, meaning that not many people believed, or even knew the rumor about your romantic relationship with all three men.

Except recently, you'd all sat down and had a conversation about this topic, which had ended with one strict viewpoint shared by all four of you:

Your relationship was not a secret, nor was it something to be ashamed of, and there would be no more comments leaving that up for interpretation.

The silence continued for multiple additional seconds beyond what Connor himself would consider awkward, until a student loudly cleared their own throat before slowly raising their hand, to which Kara responded by calling upon them in a manner that was almost hesitant.

"So uh, have android related marriage benefits been considered yet?"

North was quick to jump on answering that question, but even still, Connor couldn't help but feel his attention drift towards the situation just outside the range of his camera.

He couldn't quite make you out without making it obvious that he was looking in your direction, but he could clearly see Sixty's back as he caged you in against the wall, arms on either side of you while he leaned down to capture your lips in his in a manner that was no doubt ravenous.

He and Nines had both been out of town until just before Connor had began setting up for his prior arrangements earlier that morning, and if the android had meant what he'd said over the phone the night before last, you were likely in for one hell of a two month engagement celebration.

Connor attempted to turn his attention back towards the lecture, ignoring the growing pressure between his legs as he turned up the volume slightly, eyes fixated almost too intently on the screen.

Suddenly though, he was forced to hold back a wince as you stumbled back into the view of the audience, cheeks pink, lips bruised, and hair even messier than before as you struggled to avoid Sixty's attempts at grabbing you again with a laugh that was distant to the mic, but sharp in Connor's ears, igniting a spark of adoration in him at the sound.

He watched via the screen in front of him as you backed further into clear view with Sixty following confidently, a predatory grin at his lips that immediately let Connor know that the android couldn't care less whether or not those on the video call saw him.

Now more than a little bit enthralled by the chase as well as the sparkle of excitement he could see in your eyes, Connor kept his gaze trained on the scene playing out on the screen, a slight smirk fighting to show itself as he watched you start to lose your balance after being forced to raise a leg to stop your feral fiance from grabbing at it.

You shrieked as you fell back, catching yourself on your palms as you tried desperately to scoot away from Sixty's grip, though your efforts proved futile when he wrapped a nimble hand around one of your ankles, tugging you towards him and eventually just out of frame once more.

Soon afterward Connor heard the familiar sound of your feigned pleas for freedom being muffled against Sixty's hungry lips as they claimed your own for the second time that morning.

It proved to be very distracting.

Though, not nearly as distracting as you backing your way into frame once again moments later, palms flat against the floor behind you as you kicked playfully at Sixty, still doing your best to win the game of chase he'd started despite your obvious enjoyment.

You were fighting a grin as you continued to move backward, using your hands as leverage to pull yourself along faster even as Sixty followed on foot, which gave him a very clear advantage.

Repressing the urge to calculate how long on average Sixty tended to play with you before choosing to halt his typically lengthy games of cat and mouse, Connor shifted his gaze back towards the audience, hoping that the scene in the background wasn't the reason their gaze was so affixed to the projector screen in front of them.

Unfortunately though, the android's attempt at placing his regard on something that wasn't his fiancee's rather amusing struggle was squashed by the notable visual of a new figure entering the frame.

This definitely didn't help his cause, and he was almost certain that the crowd couldn't have possibly gone without noticing it either, as Nines made for an incredibly imposing figure under any and all circumstances.

That being said, you had clearly gotten very comfortable with his presence throughout the years, because you didn't even notice that he was there until you'd accidentally backed into his legs.

And by then, it was far too late.

Connor watched, artificial breathing paused as you slowly looked up to see Nines standing behind you, eyes slightly widened as you took in the sight of him. The android cast a brief glance over to the video call that his predecessor was on before shifting his gaze toward Sixty, who had his hands in his pockets as he smirked down at your helpless position between him and the rk900.

You were laying with your back pressed against Nines' body, one leg extended outward while the other was bent at the knee, as if you had been mid struggle when you'd finally stopped.

You let out a tiny squeak of fear, one that Connor barely managed to make out above the sound of North's voice, as without warning, Sixty knelt down to run a hand slowly up your leg before wrapping it loosely around your calf, his gaze hungry in a way that Connor was certain you were all too familiar with.

Nines, on the other hand, crouched behind you, his torso unyielding against your back as he ran a hand up from your straightened leg to your throat, where it briefly curled and squeezed before loosening, though it notably did not move away as he lowered his mouth to your ear.

Connor attempted to make out what he was saying, but in the end, it was your reaction that held his attention more than anything else.

He watched your muscles tense and your throat bob as you leaned into Nines' touch, nodding softly as the android in question smirked against your neck before he slowly stood, guiding you up with him and walking you backwards and out of frame once more, Sixty following eagerly.

There was a distant clamor that Connor was almost certain came from the counter of the bathroom sink, and then suddenly, his LED was flashing yellow with an incoming call from a familiar rk800 model android.

Connor swallowed thickly, briefly ensuring that the attention of those participating in the lecture wasn't on him before he answered hesitantly, the sound of your muffled whimpers instantly filling his ears and forcing him to hold back a shiver as he shifted in his seat, suddenly very uncomfortable thanks to the increasing strain within his pants.

"Shit."

He murmured under his breath, inhaling sharply as Sixty chuckled in response, a teasing lilt to his tone as he spoke,

"You hear that pretty girl? Connors decided to say hello in spite of his little arrangement, isn't that sweet?"

Connor tensed at the sound of you gasping on the other end of the line, a keening whine slipping past your lips at Sixty's taunting words, which he continued to utilize mercilessly.

"What was that, Princess?"

He pressed,

"I don't think he can hear you."

From Sixty's end, Connor was able to make out an oh so familiar squelching sound followed by a sharp cry that he knew for a fact belonged to you, your head falling back to what he imagined was the mirror behind you with a dull thud.

Connor flinched slightly at the sound, but assuaged his own worries with the knowledge that neither Nines nor Sixty would ever allow you to get hurt in their presence.

And clearly the injury wasn't anything severe, because mere moments afterward, Nines spoke up,

"Why don't you tell Connor how good it feels, hmm? We don't want him to feel excluded sitting all alone out there."

You whimpered at Nines' cruel tone, but opened your mouth to speak regardless, your breaths so hurried that Connor could hear them easily.

"C-Con..."

You whined out, and the sound of his name leaving your lips immediately had the android in question holding back a groan, his LED flickering briefly as he sent Sixty a message.

After doing this, Connor waited patiently, until finally, the receiving android let out an audible chuckle, humming softly as he spoke,

"Well isn't this interesting, Connor here is asking me to narrate your little... Predicament for him."

Sixty paused for a moment, allowing his predecessor to better make out your soft pleas before he continued, voice full of a mocking amusement that he had mastered the use of ages ago.

"Does that sound nice, Sweetheart? You want me to tell him how hot you look all spread out for Nines' fingers? How fucked out your expression is when we haven't even taken you properly yet?"

There was a brief silence for a moment or two, but Connor was quick to deduce that you must have nodded, because Sixty gave a short chuckle before he spoke up again,

"That's right, Baby, you look so fucking pretty when you take what we give you. Does it feel nice?"

You gave a shrill cry of bliss in response, and the next time that Sixty spoke, it was to Connor directly, his voice barely above a growl,

"Fuck, you really should see her, I don't know if she's ever been this wet before."

The loud squelching sounds in the background only served to cement Sixty's statement as truthful, and Connor had to mute himself so no one would hear the heady groan that was pulled from deep within him as a result.

"And she's desperate too, already begged Nines to fuck her before you could even answer the phone."

Connor heard his successor chuckle softly in the background before the squelching increased in intensity, followed shortly thereafter by your rushed pleas for more, which fell from your lips like a waterfall.

Connor then heard Nines give a sigh that was a bit too close to a growl for him to ignore, before suddenly, the squelching stopped entirely, replaced immediately afterward by the sounds of zippers being tugged down and clothing hitting the floor.

To Connor's surprise though, the next thing he heard wasn't some sharp cry or plea from you, but rather Nines' harsh tone as he spoke up for the second time that morning,

"Since you just can't seem keep your mouth shut on your own, you don't mind if Sixty helps you, do you, Sweetling?"

You whimpered shakily, but spoke up nonetheless, no doubt knowing the punishment that awaited if you didn't,

"N-no sir."

You whispered out, and Connor could all but hear Nines grin as he hummed softly before finally replying,

"Good girl."

And the next thing that Connor heard was a loud curse from Sixty, who let out a strained laugh immediately afterward, as if surprised by his own exclamation.

"That's it, Princess, open that pretty mouth just a little more for me,"

And a second later, he groaned heavily again, hissing through his teeth before he spoke up,

"Shit, that's it, Baby, just like that."

Connor held back a moan as he imagined how desperate you must have looked in that moment, spread out for Nines with Sixty's dick stuffed down your throat as you took them both eagerly,

It was almost enough to make him whimper at the thought alone, suddenly all too ready to end this video call once and for all.

Distantly, he could make out a new voice asking a question, but all that he could do was pray that it wasn't for him, because there was no way he could muster up the strength to say anything coherent knowing that his beautiful fiancee was being absolutely ravaged in the next room over.

Connor tensed slightly at the sound of your muffled groans, stifled by Sixty's length as you took everything that both he and Nines gave you, which was apparently about to be increased according to the latter individual.

"Did you want me to fuck you, Little Dove? Is that what you were begging for so shamelessly?"

Connor inhaled sharpy at the sound of your replying whines despite the rather large obstacle that was keeping you from speaking properly, which, judging by the noises that Sixty was making, likely wouldn't be an obstacle for very much longer.

The android in question was growling out your name, fucking your mouth with so much force that you would occasionally gag around his thickness, which only served to bring him closer and closer to orgasm.

"C'mon Baby, take me, just a little more and I'll come right down that pretty little throat of yours."

You whimpered weakly around Sixty's cock, and something about that sound must have struck the android as particularly ruinous, because mere moments afterward he was fulfilling his previous promise, hand in your hair as he rode out his orgasm with a harsh groan of pure bliss.

Connor, recognizing the familiar sounds of Sixty reaching his end, was more than a little bit eager to hear what would come next, and was not let down by what followed, because immediately after Sixty had backed away and leaned against the wall to get a better look at your fucked out expression, Nines took the opportunity to push into you, having removed anything that might get in the way of that a long time ago

You gasped immediately at the unexpected fullness that followed, and Connor could hardly restrain himself as Nines began thrusting in and out of you, hands on your ass as he set an absolutely brutal pace right from the get go.

"N-Nines!"

You cried out loud enough that Connor could hear you both through the call and through the bathroom door, making him immensely relieved to note that he was still muted, because he really wasn't sure how he could ever explain away the sound of his future wife getting fucked by her two other partners in the next room.

Nines chuckled darkly at your exclamation, and unbeknownst to Connor, pressed his thumb against your clit as he continued to take you fast and rough, quickly building you up to your orgasm with practiced skill, all while pushing himself straight to the edge as well.

"Fuck"

He hissed out between clenched teeth, hands gripping your ass hard enough to leave bruises as he drove into you, savoring every little sound you made for him as he did so.

And then, he said something that nearly made Connor snap.

"Do you want me to come inside of you, little one? Fill you up the way that Connor always begs to? Would you like to feel it drip out of your aching cunt and down your thighs for hours to come?"

His voice was like gravel as he spoke, strained and broken up by the occasional grunt or curse, but even still, it provided Nines with the reaction he so desired.

You gave a sharp cry upon hearing those words leave his mouth, and immediately, Connor knew that you were coming, voice haggard and body quaking as Nines dragged your orgasm out of you ruthlessly, until finally, he too came with a groan, filling you with his artificial seed just as he'd promised he would.

And that imagined visual, of you dripping with Nines' come after he had said such filthy things to you, things that Connor had long since made clear he desired, had him sending Markus a brief message about some contrived emergency before he all but slammed his laptop shut, stalking towards the bathroom with a clear purpose in mind.

This was indeed going to be a very long 2 month engagement celebration for you, and Connor would make sure of that far beyond anything you'd ever experienced before.

masterlist

AO3

#dbh connor x reader #dbh nines x reader #dbh sixty x reader #dbh x reader #dbh x reader smut #dbh connor x reader smut #dbh nines x reader smut #dbh sixty x reader smut #dbh smut #c: nines #c: connor #c: sixty #rk900 x reader #rk800 x reader #dbh rk bros x reader smut

731 notes · View notes

sv5hive · 3 months

Text

frosting makeover | sv5

pairing: sebastian vettel x reader

warning(s): mentions of drinking, written at midnight, barely proofread

word count: 937

note: a bit short and a bit late but ofc i had to post something for my favourite old man's birthday!!

masterlist!

you had been hard at work in the kitchen since the early hours of the morning while your husband made himself useful at the factory. it was one of the most important days of the year and you had every intention of making it a grand event for the love of your life.

sebastian had said that his birthday wasn't a big deal and that he didn't expect anything special. but if he had learnt anything from his time with you, it was that you believed everyone should be treated like royalty on their special day; after all, it's only one day out of three hundred and sixty five.

in an ideal world, sebastian would have the day off and you would wake him up with breakfast in bed but nevertheless, you would make the most of a bad deal and instead whip up a three course dinner including a birthday cake fit for a king. so, not long after sebastian had pressed a kiss onto your forehead to say goodbye before heading out for work, you got out of bed and readied yourself to create a birthday extravaganza for the man who loved you like no other.

after gruelling away hard at work, you had finally finished decorating the cake with a crude portrait of sebastian with his car and started cleaning up the remaining frosting and stray sprinkles scattered all over the counter. glancing at the clock, you realised he would be home any moment so you decided to change into a more appropriate outfit and set the table ready for you two. as you placed the wine glasses down on the table, you heard the front door click shut as sebastian kicked his shoes off.

"schatz? i'm home! where are you?" he called out from the hallway.

"in here!" you replied back, standing in the dining room in front of the product of your love and labour.

"there you are- what's all this?" he questioned, the corners of his lips curling upwards.

"happy birthday, love! you didn't actually think i wasn't going to make a big deal out of this, right?"

you couldn't hold yourself back anymore as you practically threw yourself into sebastian's arms and planted a kiss on his lips.

"you look even more beautiful than you do normally."

"yeah, yeah, you can compliment me later. now come on! i've been waiting a while already and the food's going to get cold if we keep standing around like idiots!"

you pulled him towards the table decorated with candles, swan napkins and a single rose in a glass vase in the centre. ushering sebastian into his chair, you poured two glasses of wine for yourselves and shortly brought out the first course to begin dinner.

"liebe, this is incredible! how long did this take you?" he asked, tasting a spoonful of the soup.

"oh it's nothing, seb. this is the least i could do when you treat me like this all the time."

he reached across the table and grasped your hand in his before pausing to speak.

"it's not nothing but thank you, schatz, really. i would be completely helpless without you in my life."

in the dim candle light, you dined and got increasingly more drunk throughout the night while discussing everything from this morning's news to workplace gossip. eventually, it was time to get the cake out and have the birthday boy blow out the candles.

as you quietly sang happy birthday to sebastian, he took the chance to engrave this moment into his brain - not everybody gets to spend their birthday with their soulmate but he was one of the lucky ones. he didn't ever think he would be part of the minority who could say they had truly found their person but the universe had other plans for him. so, as you gently encouraged him to make a wish, he simply asked whatever higher being that may exist, to never let it end. he wanted you and your silly birthday cakes with way too much frosting to be allowed on his strict diet for the rest of time.

"tell me, what did you wish for?" you hounded him while removing the candles and cutting a slice for each of you.

"i can't tell you otherwise it won't come true! sorry, schatz." he replied, a sly grin growing on his face.

"what? are you serious? we've been together for how many years now and you still won't tell me what you wish for every year." you playfully called him out as he took a bite of the cake.

"i don't make the rules, okay! hate the game not the player. besides, i wish for the same thing every year and it seems to be working so i really can't tell you."

"oh really? okay, if you say so. how's the cake?" you asked, eating your own slice.

"perfect. everything's perfect, you are perfect. thank you, again."

"i'm glad, you deserve nothing less."

just as sebastian was about to reply, he felt a cool sensation land on the side of his mouth.

"are you serious, schatz?"

"hm? i don't know what you're talking about. oh, you have a little something there by the way." you said, looking up from your plate and pointing to your own face.

"oh, do i?"

"mhm. here, i can get it for you." you quickly stood from your side of the table and kissed the corner of his mouth and returned to your seat. you could only resist for a few seconds before swiping frosting onto the tip of sebastian's nose.

"oh that is it!"

#sv5 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x you #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #formula 1 imagine #sebastian vettel one shot #sebastian vettel fanfiction #sebastian vettel fanfic #sebastian vettel x reader

122 notes · View notes

ellephlox · 1 year

Text

Anchor

Summary: Matt helps you when you're overstimulated at a party.

Pairing: Matt x fem!reader on the autism spectrum

Warnings: Description of panic attack, overstimulation, brief and very indirect reference to sexual assault, profanity.

A/N: I apologize in advance if this doesn't fit with your experience of autism! I just used my own tendencies as inspiration to write this. Thank you so much for the request, anon!

Foggy warned you that his family could be... intense. Not just rambunctious, or extraverted, but more like a crowd of drunken mega-fans when their favorite team won the Super Bowl.

"So I get it if you don't want to come," he said, speaking through a mouthful of poutine. "No pressure at all. It's just a summer barbecue. But the only food there will be lasagna, just so you know."

"Why lasagna?" You sat across from him and Karen at a small, quiet diner after work, with Matt to your left. Sometimes you went to Josie's, purely because it was Matt and Foggy's favorite bar, but on busy days you'd go to this smaller eatery instead. Matt never made a big deal of it, and never said specifically to Karen and Foggy why he always suggested the quieter restaurant on the days when Josie's was brimming with patrons and music, but you knew why, and you'd told him a thousand times how grateful you were.

"Why lasagna?" Foggy repeated. "Uh, because July 29th is none other than the very important holiday, National Lasagna Day?"

"I have a feeling your definition of 'very important' differs ever so slightly from mine," you said. "Sorry. Haven't heard of it. So, you celebrate this because...?"

"Because my dad thought it would be funny and then it kinda stuck. So now it's an official Nelson Family Tradition."

"He's dragged me to some really weird traditions over the years," Matt said, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. You liked the feeling of being in a cubby of his arms, and you subconsciously leaned in closer to him. There weren't many people you could lean into comfortably, but Matt was one of them. "Careful. Once you go to one, he invites you to all of them. I'm still recovering from the Hammock Olympics."

"What's—"

"Don't ask," Foggy cut in. "It's a long story. But think about it, okay? We'd love to have you."

You weren't keen on going to a lasagna party — or any party, for that matter — but you agreed. Foggy had been your friend for a long time, and you felt that you owned it to him; besides, as much as he claimed his family was rowdy, they couldn't be that unruly.

But nothing could have prepared you for the swarm of Nelsons that spilled out of the house and onto the lawn. They were everywhere: Dancing to music that pumped from a speaker with far too much bass that made you wince. Shooting hoops in the short driveway and bodily ramming into one another, sweat visible under their arms. Hovering over the drinks, pouring from the array of alcohol that was stacked on a folding table.

"How many family members does Foggy even have?" you asked, under your breath, as you slowed slightly. Matt was leisurely tapping his cane next to you, his hand loosely around your arm.

"Based on memory? A few dozen. But..." Matt's brow crinkled. "There's definitely more than five dozen heartbeats here right now."

"More than sixty? How are there so many Nelsons? How are they all even able to attend? Don't some of them have other obligations to go to?"

"If it gets really packed in there, and you want to leave, we can go anytime."

"It's okay. I'll be fine."

"Really, sweetheart." Matt tugged at your arm slightly. "Just showing up is a huge deal for Foggy. We can leave at anytime, and no one will judge us."

You smiled at him. "You're the coolest guy ever, you know that?"

Walking up the Nelsons' driveway, you hoped that you and Matt would just melt into the crowd, but instead Foggy caught a glimpse of you and waved wildly. Wonderful. You put a wide smile on your face, though, and waved back stiffly. Awkwardly. Maybe no more waving for me.

To distract yourself from the heat already rising in your face, you began to narrate to Matt. "Foggy's up ahead of us. Drinks are all on the left. Lemonade, I think, apple cider, vodka, wine. And... what looks like a cheese board? There's also a lot of chalk all over the driveway. Hop scotch, body outlines, and genitalia, I think."

"Hopefully the last isn't courtesy of Foggy."

"I don't think so. Foggy is—"

"Behind you, and delighted that you came," Foggy said, coming up from behind and hugging you. You stiffened, unprepared for the embrace, but he bounced back quickly, his face flushed with the heat of the day. "Happy National Lasagna Day! I'd recommend getting in there before the Twisted Teas are gone."

In the corner of your eye, you could see someone reaching over to turn up the volume on the music. The bass thumped out of the speakers with even more force, and simultaneously a baby started wailing only ten feet away from you. You tensed slightly, resisting the urge to simply turn around and walk away from this party. For Foggy. For Foggy, I'll stay here and enjoy myself as much as I can.

Matt must have sensed it, because his hand crept to yours and squeezed. "Drinks nearby?"

"Yeah, about five feet to your left," Foggy said. "I'll read you the options. Hey, Y/N — my mom wants to meet you." At your bewildered look, Foggy raised his hands. "I don't know why. I'm just the messenger. She's inside, in the kitchen right now, and all she said was she wants to talk to you once you get here."

"She wants to talk to me?" The prospect was alarming. So was the idea of leaving Matt's side in a swarm of people like this. But you had no choice, because Mrs. Nelson suddenly waved from the front door, as though she'd sensed your arrival, beckoning you inside.

"She's waving me in," you said, panicking slightly. "Foggy, are you sure she meant me?"

"Positive. Sorry. She's going to pry, but don't feel obligated to tell her your darkest secrets. I think she likes the idea of having a girl to chat with about Matt and me."

Dear God. Please let this not last long. You reluctantly parted from Matt, and made your way into the brightly lit, maximist-style interior of the Nelson home. Knick-knacks and assorted tchotchkes surrounded you as though you were in an antique shop.

"Y/N!" Mrs. Nelson appeared again, her face round like Foggy's. You started to extend a hand, but she went right in for a hug — so that's where Foggy gets it from — and squeezed you. Limply you stood there, awkwardly reaching to hug back with one arm.

"It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Nelson," you said. "Can I help with anything in the kitchen?"

"Don't be silly, that's not why I asked you in here. I want you to give me intel."

"Intel?"

"On Matthew! You're dating him, aren't you?"

"Oh — I—"

"We've known Matthew since he was a first year in law school," she went on, picking up a knife and chopping at a carrot with dextrous agility. "That boy doesn't ever settle down. But now he's met you, and I want details!"

"Um..." You averted your gaze. She hardly blinked at all, and it was unnerving. Instead you focused on the dripping faucet, and then the picture frames to your left. Foggy in college, Foggy with his siblings, a family portrait outside of Acadia National Park. You finally compromised and settled your gaze to the corner of her left eye. Close enough. "Well, we met about a year ago. Matt's always just understood me, and I guess we got along well with conversation, so here we are."

"You thinking of getting married?"

I barely know this woman, and she wants to know about my relationship. Your stomach was clenching at what you'd say, and it didn't help knowing that Matt was certainly listening to every word of the conversation. "I don't — I mean, I'm not really... I can't say. Not because I don't know, but because that's between me and Matt, mostly." Shit. Was that too harsh? You assumed it wasn't, because Mrs. Nelson went right on smiling.

The door slammed as someone else came in. You whirled around, hoping desperately it was Matt, but it was some unnamed relative who had the distinct Nelson features and a cigarette in his hand. He lit it, breathing in deeply, and exhaling smoke into the air.

"You know I don't like you smoking inside, Ben," Mrs. Nelson said, shooing at him.

"Sorry." Ben didn't stop smoking. You winced as the smell of cigarette smoke wafted up to you, and glanced at the closed window. That air Ben was exhaling — it was now in your lungs, and you could feel it tickling your throat. The more you thought about the fact that you were inhaling his air, the more restless you felt. The smoke curled through the air, and breezed against you as he sucked on the cigarette again. Surely it was now going to cling to your clothes for the rest of the day. You'd be able to smell it, you knew. And Matt would be able to smell it too, which would make it a hundred times worse because now you felt bad—

"Y/N?"

Your head snapped back to Mrs. Nelson. "Sorry?"

"I wondered if you'd like to hold the baby. She's fourteen weeks old today. I can ask Susan to bring her in for you."

That's the very last thing I want to do, actually.

You struggled for an answer, and finally landed on an excuse. "That's very kind of you to offer. But I think I've got to go back out," you said, jabbing a thumb over your shoulder and plastering a gracious look on your face. "I want to find Matt and... introduce him to someone."

Please don't ask who.

Fortunately, Mrs. Nelson didn't question you at all. "Oh, of course! I won't keep you."

Yes, please don't.

You hurried out of the kitchen, not realizing you were holding in a breath until you were in the mercifully clean, smoke-free air outside. The downside was that in the time you had been indoors, the sun had emerged from behind the clouds, and metamorphosed the already humid day into a blistering sauna.

You found Matt standing in the direct sunlight with some of Foggy's brothers. There was no shade to be found, and you mourned your decision to not put on sunscreen today as you joined his side and resisted the urge to hoist the back of your cardigan over your head like a parasol. The sweltering sunshine was so intense that you felt as though you could feel your skin burning second by second.

They all laughed — at what, you weren't sure — but it rang in your ears, nearly making you screw up your face. How was Matt handling this? Surely it was bothering him more than it bothered you. Yet he had a placid expression on his face, holding his cane loosely with one hand and sipping on a beer with the other.

"Last call for the cheese board," Foggy said suddenly. "And Mom says it'll be another two hours until supper, so grab some Swiss and Muenster now or forever hold your hunger."

Your stomach felt as though it were curdling. Two hours? It was already an hour past when you usually had lunch. Two more hours was frankly terrifying. And the only thing standing between you and the two-hours-out-lasagna was... cheese.

"Want to make our way over there, then?" you asked Matt, as casually as you could. There was no sense in letting him know you were stressed. He was having a good time, that much you could tell, and the last thing you wanted was for your discomfort to bring down his day.

Matt went with you to the table, and only when you were out of earshot of Foggy and his brothers did he speak. "Hey. You doing okay?"

"I've been better. I've been worse." There was no sense in trying to lie to him. "Let's just grab some cheese. I didn't realize lunch would be so late, or I would've had something at home."

But just before you reached the table, a girl of about eight or nine years ran in front of you, and dug both hands — both hands, two hands with chalk and dirty visibly staining them — into the platter of cheese, scooping out a handful for herself.

"Ella!" her mother snapped, a few feet away. "You've had enough. No more cheese."

The girl obeyed, tossing all the cheese slices back into the platter and running away cheerfully. You stood stock still, frozen in your spot.

Matt cocked his head slightly. "Still hungry for cheese?"

"Why?" you managed. "Why, why, why? Who just touches all the food then dumps it back in?" The cheese was too tainted now. Wistfully you looked at it, then at your watch. One hour, fifty-six minutes left. And that was if Mrs. Nelson served the lasagnas on time.

"I think that the Nelson household is your new nemesis," Matt said, pulling you in towards him. "Anything I can do?"

"No," you said, fighting to keep yourself optimistic. For Matt, for Foggy. "Thank you, though."

"We can imagine we're in a version of the Hunger Games. Except instead of bloodthirsty teens, we're surrounded by small talk and cigarette smoke."

"You knew?"

"Smelled it right away." Matt took your arm again as you made your way back to the circle of Nelson brothers. "And figured you were having the time of your life in there."

"Ha."

"If it makes you feel any better, all their stomachs have rumbled in the past half an hour," Matt said softly, nodding his head in the direction of Foggy's brothers. "You're not the only one who's disappointed that lunch is two hours out. And..." He shifted so that his right ear was facing Foggy. "It sounds like Foggy really, really needs to pee right now."

You let out a laugh. "Information I didn't need to have."

Matt only smiled as you both rejoined the circle.

You thought you'd make it until lunch. It was only two hours, you kept telling yourself, it wasn't long. Not much longer in the sun. Not much longer you'd have to stand there while Ben lit another cigarette nearby and the wind carried the smoke right into your face. Not much longer that the Nelsons would keep getting drunker and drunker and their laughs more raucous. And, certainly, it wouldn't be much longer that the music was blaring, pumping through your ears to rattle your very bones.

And then everyone grouped together, for one large family conversation, and you found yourself being jostled into the middle of a massive, warm crowd of Nelsons, shoulder-to-shoulder with people you'd never met before. The panic you had kept at bay so far began to swell like a tsunami under the surface of tranquil waters, thudding in your heart and moving up to your face. Too warm. The sun beat down, not a cloud in sight. All of the little kids were next to you now, singing and jumping up and down, and—

One of them sneezed, and with horror you felt droplets of mucus land on your right arm.

"I have to go," you gasped to Matt, slipping backwards out of the crowd and making a beeline for the house. Bathroom. You needed a bathroom.

But the final straw was the bathroom itself. Another speaker sat in the windowsill, projecting music loudly to the backyard, and it smelled like someone took a shit in there, making you gag and turn around—

Straight into Matt.

"Matt," you whispered. "I can't. I can't do this."

"Sweetheart—"

"It's too much. I've tried, but I can't, they're sneezing and laughing and dancing and I just can't do it anymore. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"What do you have to be sorry for?"

"Because I'm ruining your day!" You crossed into the hallway and sat on the bottom of the stairs, rubbing your hands over your face and hair, again and again, as though to get the sound off. Only then did you realize with horror that you hadn't yet washed your arm, so you leapt up to run to the sink. Matt followed you, nimbly stepping over the clutter that was strewn on the floor. "If you didn't have me at your side, being a leech, you'd still be out there, laughing with them and sipping a beer. And — and you've got the hearing of a fucking bat, but you're able to tolerate everything, while I just throw a tantrum like a two year old." You were near tears, the truth of your own statement ringing into the kitchen. Because it was ridiculous, wasn't it? Matt's hearing was incomprehensibly better than yours, and so was his sensitivity to the sun and the cigarette smoke, and yet it didn't seem to touch him at all.

He reached out, and you thought he was going to shut off the faucet, but instead he ran his hand under the water, took the soap, and began to rub at your arm slowly, up and down. You stood still, your own hands dripping, and allowed him to remove whatever snot might still be on your skin. Finally he lowered his fingers, and took a clean washcloth from the cupboard under the sink. Starting with the top of your arm he dried off every last bit of water, working his way downward.

"Last night, out in the suit, I came across a frat party," he said, finally drying off your hands and setting the cloth on the edge of the sink. "Over seventy people were there. And there were roofies being handed out, like hors d'oeuvres, so that the guys could take advantage of whoever they wanted. I went in, shut it down. Went into the bedrooms and stopped a couple of them in the act. But the whole time, they had this heavy metal music blasting, and the house was filled with the smell of weed. It was dusty in there, too. Every breath I drew in, I could taste it, and feel the grit of it."

You remained silent and let him do the talking. His voice was low, pleasant; a welcome distraction from the voices and radio outside.

"It set me off," he continued. "And even afterwards, I could still hear it ringing in my ears, and could still feel the layer of dust on my skin. You know what helped me to snap out of it?" He raised his hand and gently cupped your face. "You."

You vaguely remembered Matt crawling into bed with you the previous night, and pulling you in close, but as far as you remembered, you hadn't even said a word. "Me? But how—?"

"You're my anchor." Matt's hand dropped. "You. When everything is too loud, I listen to your steady inhales and exhales. Your heartbeat. When the scents are too much, all I have to do is breathe in your shampoo and detergent. Your skin, your hair, your body... it's the only thing that I want to always be with. You're always my anchor. And I know you're strong enough to do all this on your own, but if you ever need me to be, I'll be your anchor, too. Just say the word, and we can leave this party. We can stay in all weekend and do nothing but order in takeout and watch movies. We can drive twenty hours north and stay in a remote cottage for a week. And if you need a break from me, I'll take off until you're ready. I'll always be your anchor, always, if you want me to be."

You closed your eyes, your heartbeat slowing; it was as though someone had dialed down the music outside. Matt seemed to notice the relaxing of your posture, because he tilted his head against yours, and breathed, "That's my girl."

"Thank you," you whispered, wrapping your arms tentatively around him. "And I never want a break from you. Never you." At your motion, his own arms embraced you tightly, as though he'd been waiting for the indication that you wanted to hug.

"And something else," Matt said, after you pulled apart. Without looking he reached behind him towards the fruit basket and plucked out two bananas. "I'll pay Mrs. Nelson back for these."

You broke out in a smile and took one of the bananas. "Keep guard so no one walks in on us chowing down alone in here like two bizarre monkeys?"

He leaned against the counter next to you as you peeled the banana. "Always."

#daredevil #matt murdock #marvel #matt murdock x reader #daredevil x reader #reader insert #mcu #reader #x reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x autistic!reader #fluff #autistic!reader #autism #neurodivergent #neurodivergent!reader #overstimulation

328 notes · View notes

thewisaaaaad · 16 days

Text

so I was writing more about my Narinders Locker Au and uh.

It got a little out of hand. so I'm splitting it into parts.

Here's the part about Lamb and crew :D

The ship the lamb sails upon was once Narinders own ship. A gigantic beast of a galleon, its hide is made entirely of cast iron. Given its weight, the ship should not float at all. and for the centuries that Narinder was imprisoned, it didn't. But with the power of the red crown, the lamb can will it to rise from the depths or return to it at will.

It is a gigantic galleon, armed with sixty cannons a side, with two cannons that point forward as well. It has 8 sails, and an extra mast to match.

It is poorly balanced on purpose. the front of the ship catches an air bubble within it, and the rear is weighted with extra iron, causing the ship to tip backwards beneath the waves. This allows the ship to rise with the nose pointed upwards at a diagonal, permitting it to pierce heretical ships from below, or to fall upon vessels that are caught beneath it.

The crew, blessed by The One Below, are able to breath seawater as easily as air, and thus the ships ambush abilities can be used to their fullest potential.

the ships name is Iron vale, but the crew (and Narinder) affectionately call it "rust bucket". The lamb is unamused. (they want their ship to be cool, dammit.)

The crew is fiercely devoted to the lamb. After all, they did save all of them from the Captains, and all of them hold personal grudges against the Captains too.

All of them are trained in combat, though only half of them really engage in any given conflict. most use whatever weapons they have on hand, although some specialize in certain weapons and have claimed custom versions from the traveling weponsmith.

The lamb themself is a foolhardy youth, empowered by the crown they seek vengeance, and Narinder has to remind them often that part of their deal was that they had to seek adventure for all the fallen who never got to see the world.

They wear the crown as a tricorn (obviously) and wield it as a cutlass (also obvious). they wear a pair of well worn and oft patched pair of pants, held up with a sash woven from their mothers wool, and the sash is embroidered with sheep and Lilly of the valley in red thread, but the embroidering is unfinished. It will never be finished.

Their fleece is a red pirate coat that leaves its sleeves flowing in the wind, tied around their neck with a golden cord and clasped with a small anchor.

The lambs wool is constantly sopping wet, and they will never dry for they are tied to the sea now. Their horns are short and dull, and their tail undocked. The wool on their face droops down over one eye, giving the appearance of an eye patch.

In their chest sits a gaping hole where their heart once sat. It was taken from them by narinder, for a gift such as the crown cannot come without sacrifice.

That heart is Narinders most treasured possession.

Their magic takes a unique form too. Instead of balls of fire and lost souls wrought with their hands as in the game, they wield blood red brine and frozen ice flung from a flintlock instead. When the lamb falls in battle, they melt into blood red briny water that slinks back into the ocean, to find the bones and rotting flesh of sunken sailors to create a new body.

After all, one cannot simply stab the sea, and expect to have killed it.

#i really don't know what i'm doing #cotl #cult of the lamb #cotl au #Narinders locker au #cotl lamb

20 notes · View notes

julemmaes · 1 year

Text

Temporary Fix, 1

Nesta Archeron x Cassian modern au

Kinktober, semi-public sex

A/N: I'm only going to say this is for B and good lord, also I haven't reread shit so if you find typos and things don't add up mind your business

Word count: ~7.3k words

She reached out her hand to introduce herself to the umpteenth white man in his sixties that she met that evening. She immediately wondered if the fact that the old man wasn't telling her his name—but was instead just stroking her hand in a revolting way as he stared into her eyes—was because he assumed she could distinguish him by looks alone, or if he didn't think she was clever enough to remember it afterwards and deemed it useless. Or, yet again, whether he didn't think she was important enough to know such a thing. As if, to satisfy every desire that shone behind that man's eyes, she needed no further introduction.

It had been that same dance for the past two hours.

The room was swarming with bigwigs and whatnots tonight and as she glanced around to survey the mumbling throng, she found herself suppressing a grimace of disgust, which she had had to hide several times in her goblet of non-alcoholic sparkling wine. The amount of women way younger than her in the arms of men well into their fifties was spine-chilling.

Nesta could only pray that all those girls were there at will, perhaps waiting for one of these old pigs to die so that their husbands' big fat inheritances would end up in their pockets. It was the only hope that hadn't made her bristle at such arrogance and impertinence.

One thing that hadn't helped her shitty mood at all was the fact that Eris had brought her to that gala with the intention of showing her off as his girlfriend. But the deal the two of them had agreed on before she accepted his invitation was something else entirely. He would introduce her to the CEO of their company and she would be at his side all evening. They hadn't mentioned anything that had to do with their relationship.

And Nesta was quite the scrupulous one.

"You shouldn't have left that detail out of our conversation," she'd told him in a low tone when Eris had cornered her after their first interaction with one of the new interns, in which he'd flaunted her as one of the many trophy wives in the lobby. "If you want to introduce me as your girlfriend or escort, you'll have to do more than simply get me to talk to Nehemia Ytger. You'll have to secure me a seat at the table."

She had raised her stakes so high knowing full well that Eris didn't have enough power in their department to even suggest such a thing to Ytger. He'd simply gritted his teeth and nodded, then flashed a grin that hadn't reached his eyes and offered her his arm. Nesta had breathed out a short, dry laugh that conveyed just how much she didn't want to be seen in close contact with him.

It was bad enough she'd agreed to do this. She wasn't going to be an accessory to another man. Not again.

She was pretending not to hear what her two colleagues were discussing, letting her eyes roam over the crowd, looking disinterested. There was no reason to let this Nobody know that Nesta was aiming for the same job the man had been talking about for the past seven minutes.

She glanced up at the large decorative clock painted on the wall of the abandoned station where their firm had decided to hold its yearly party. Twenty-five minutes to eleven. It had been far too long since they had arrived and still no sign of their boss.

Her eyes fell back on the guests, desperately searching for that stunningly beautiful face that Nesta had had the honour of seeing in real life a few times.

If there was one thing Nesta was firmly sure of, it was that Nehemia Ytger was the most fascinating human being she had ever met. She had been speechless, having only the decency to give her a small nod in greeting before the woman left, a sly smirk on her dark lips, as if she knew perfectly well the effect she had on every person in the room.

She'd regretted not approaching her willingly on multiple other occasions, not telling her about her ideas that would surely help their company grow, but her brain had short-circuited every damn time, distracting her from her purpose. Tonight was going to be different.

Or so she'd believed.

It felt like slamming into a wall.

He stood there, his long, stiff and visibly muscular legs, under the black fabric of his fancy slacks made him look like some kind of soldier. Motionless, attentive, it was as if he was bored in the midst of all these people, but there was something extremely attractive about the way he didn't even seem to be breathing. That tiny detail made the air in her lungs seize up, as if Nesta were afraid that by inhaling, by moving even a muscle, he would become aware of her presence.

She traced every line of his body, from the tips of his opaque shoes to his slender hips to his broad, imposing shoulders. She released a shuddering breath at the sight of his mighty arms crossed over his chest, his hands hidden in the fabric of his dark shirt. Unlike everyone in that room, he wasn't wearing a suit, but rather what looked like a uniform, something Nesta had seen security guards at the entrance to the building wear.

She couldn't get a good look at his face and had to stop her legs from taking three steps to the right, just to see if she could catch a glimpse of what she knew would be a heavenly sight.

The man's back was to her and Nesta nearly looked up at the sky, thanking God for that small grace as she admired the way the bottoms wrapped around his ass perfectly.

He turned his head slightly to the left, showing her a pronounced jawline, but she didn't have the quickness to look up fast enough, that he had already turned back to whoever he was protecting that night.

At that point, with the radio in plain view attached to the belt on his hip and the earpiece Nesta had managed to make out in the middle of his short dark hair, there was no doubt that he was there as someone's bodyguard.

"What about her? Is she your girlfriend?"

The unknown man's voice brought her back to reality. Her head snapped towards Eris and Nesta grimaced in disgust, squaring him from head to toe. A surprised laugh escaped her control.

"Fuck no," she whispered into her glass, turning back to the bodyguard as she sipped her drink. And then, without even deigning the two men a goodbye, Nesta strode for her target.

She pushed her way through the crowd, keeping her gaze fixed on him, and when he finally turned around, her steps faltered. Nesta was not a particularly religious woman, but in that moment she definitely felt blessed. The features of his face were elegant, sharp, and the hazel eyes made him look even more serious than he appeared.

He squared his shoulders and brought a hand to his face. It was at that moment that Nesta saw the deep scars that stretched across the back of his hand, over his fingers, and continued under the sleeve of his shirt, on his wrist.

She didn't have time to process that information when the tip of her heels caught on her long dress and she began to fall forward. She clutched the glass between her fingers, hoping with all her might that the fall wouldn't result in a trip to the ER and a few stitches, but she never found out, because an arm wrapped around her waist and she never touched the floor.

She stared at the tiles with her heart in her throat and her breath caught wholly in her chest when a warm, melodic voice whispered in her ear.

"Watch your step, sweetheart."

Something in Nesta awoke at the sound of those words.

She turned her head slightly, to see who had saved her from making an ass of herself, branding her for life, and her eyes met only a massive chest covered in a white button down shirt. She bent her neck back and-

Oh.

Oh, God.

She stared at him for the longest time, trying to comprehend how the man in front of her could look so charming and elegant, and rough-hewn and simply breathtaking at the same time.

His black hair reached just above his shoulders, brushing them with every slightest movement and a single wavy strand cut across his forehead, falling precisely in between eyes so bright, the colour of wood and soil. He had a faint scar just above the bridge of his nose, reddened at the edges, and another one that cut through his left eyebrow.

His lips parted undetectably for anyone in a metre distance, but Nesta, who somehow only then noticed she was pressed against the hard and muscled body of the stranger, heard the sigh he made. She felt, under her fingers, his chest heave with looseness and something else she couldn’t really pinpoint in that moment.

She was still staring at his lips when they curved in a sardonic smile that threatened to make her fall to her knees if he only uttered the words.

“You good?”

It felt like someone had poured molten lava on her bare back, where his hand was pressing softly, right in the middle of her shoulder blades. His voice was like calloused fingers brushing her very core.

Nesta hoped she didn’t look as stunned as she felt.

She nodded, swallowing audibly, casting her eyes away for a split second, before bringing them back to his face. She took a step back, and then another, not really trusting her body so near to this stranger’s. It was dangerous enough that she missed his touch the instant his fingers slipped away from her skin.

The man squared his shoulders and Nesta noticed only in that instance the swirls and intricate lines inked on his skin. The tattoos covered the entirety of his forearms, crawling beneath the fabric of his shirt in a way that simply asked Nesta to follow the pattern until she discovered what was hidden under the sleeves. There was a single twirl of black that snaked around his wrist and ringed his pointer finger.

Her youngest sister had once told her that wearing a ring on your index finger reflected confidence, self-esteem and leadership qualities. She could only imagine how big this man’s ego must have been if he had it tattooed.

“So,” he drawled, calling her attention back to his lips. Nesta rolled her shoulders back, trying to rein in her body’s responses to him. He brought a hand to his face, rubbing the stubble on his cheek, and he turned in the direction she’d come from, nodding his chin towards the crowd. “Why did you ditch your date? He doesn’t look half bad.”

She scoffed, trying to cover her real reaction. If her mother hadn’t taught her how to master the art of controlling her emotions in the last thirty years of her life, her jaw would have been on the floor, her cheeks red like her lips.

He’d been looking at her.

He must have known she’d been aiming for that bodyguard.

She glanced at the man’s way, noticing he had moved somewhere near the buffet, keeping close to a tiny woman in a grey dress, probably his client. The woman looked familiar, but Nesta couldn't place where she’d seen her before.

When she looked back at the Greek bronze in front of her, he was smiling knowingly, nodding his head as if he could read her mind.

Nesta opened her mouth to speak, but her throat was dry all of a sudden and she found herself gaping like a fish.

“Yeah, I kind of noticed you were going for Azriel over there,” he said. “I had planned on waiting until you’d approached him so I could hit on you with the excuse that he’s working, and I’m not, but I got lucky and you fell straight into my arms. No effort needed.”

She stared at him, clutching the chalice. He stared right back at her.

He knew the bodyguard. Personally, if he called the other man by name. Colleagues, perhaps.

“Your date, what was wrong with him?” He seemed genuinely interested about that particular matter.

Nesta refrained from grimacing and took a sip of her drink. “He’s not my date.” He’s not my anything, she wanted to add. “I was just getting tired of people-watching.”

His eyebrows jumped up for a split second, as if surprised she’d actually replied and then a pleased smile appeared. The shock in his features disappeared immediately and he leaned forward a bit, getting close enough to her that she got a sniff of his cologne.

White musk. Burnt wood. Something sweet, argan and vanilla.

Her tights clenched together.

“People-watching has become my entire personality in the past few years.” He whispered, as if letting her in on a secret.

“How come?” She asked in an equally quiet voice.

“I’m a bodyguard.” Bingo. “Not tonight though. Tonight I came as a plus one.”

“Oh.” This time, she couldn't hide the disappointment, not even in the slightest movement of her shoulders, who betrayed her real thoughts as they sagged. Controlling my emotions, my ass, she thought.

He flashed her a grin, straightening again. “Don’t sound so sad about it, I was my brother’s.”

Nesta nodded, seeing the clear opening for what it was—an invitation. She looked him in the eyes and the glimmering heat she saw there gave her enough courage to shoot her shot.

“Does that mean I can offer you a drink?”

He chuckled, his lips curling at the corners, “I gotta say, I’m impressed.”

“What for?” She asked, trying to keep a straight face.

“I thought I’d have to work harder to get laid tonight.” He looked at her pointedly, waiting for a rejection, probably. But Nesta had been on her way to approach his friend with that same exact intent and this man in front of her… yes. Nesta wanted him. And there was no reason to pretend.

She glanced at the bar, remembering for one split second why she had accepted to attend the ball in the first place and she frowned for a moment.

“What is it?” He asked, gently skimming his fingers down her arm.

Shivers went down her spine.

She cleared her throat. “Do you happen to know if Nehemia Ytger will be here tonight?”

The man looked confused for a second, but shook his head. “I heard she won’t make an appearance. Contrary to what she’s been saying.”

Nesta smiled into her drink then, whispering to herself. “Change of plans, girl.”

He turned towards the bar, offering her his arm as he glanced at her over his shoulder, “So, about that drink?”

She smirked, walking right past him, leading the way and lifting a finger above her side. She motioned him to follow her and she was pleased to hear the deep chuckle that little act earned her. A warm and large hand posed itself on the small of her back as the stranger stalked behind her.

She reached the crowd of people waiting for their turn, making those slimy men part as she got closer. It might also have had to do with the threatening and hulking figure at her side.

Putting down her empty chalice and placing both hands on the counter, Nesta waved down the bartender. Her dearest friend grinned wildly when she noticed her—and the man standing next to her.

As Emerie tiptoed to her, dancing behind the bar, Nesta huffed a laugh.

“What can I get for you, beautiful lady?” Emerie asked, propping an elbow right next to her fingers and getting dangerously close to her face. A question sparkling in her brown eyes. Who is this man?

Ignoring the dozens of other guests complaining she couldn't skip the line, Nesta grinned wider, and shrugged. “I’d love another chalice of champagne, please. And for my friend here, he’ll get…” She trailed off, looking at him.

“Oh, I’ll have a whiskey. Neat. Thank you.” He flashed a white smile to her friend. Emerie arched an eyebrow at that and spared a glance in Nesta’s way, her eyes jumping back to him right away, scanning his body. Nesta saw the moment this man got the Emerie Stamp of Approval and knew her phone would blow up with texts from both her best friends when she got back home that night.

“Right to you.”

With Emerie gone to pour their drinks, Nesta suddenly felt overwhelmed by the man’s presence again. His fingers had started tracing lines at the bottom of her spine, following the seams of her backless dress.

She hoped he couldn't see the goosebumps rising on her arms in the dim light of the room. She was struggling not to look his way, but the rough calluses on his fingertips were throwing her off her feet.

What was the matter with her? Sure, Nesta hadn't been fucked in a long time, but she had never felt so betrayed by her own body as she did at that moment. She was succumbing so quickly to the touch of a man whose name she didn't even know.

Mindless of her not to ask immediately, but now it seemed too late to pop the question.

She was keeping her gaze fixed on Emerie taking orders from others when he pressed closer, thrusting his front against her hip in the lightest of ways. His broad shoulders covered her view of the back of the bar and with as much ease as she could muster, she looked up at him.

With both arms resting on the countertop, her breasts thrust out right below her chin, the position forcing her to lean her head back to get a good look at his face while her ass jutted out behind her.

Nesta knew she was beautiful, attractive, but there was something about the look he was giving her… as if he couldn't move his eyes from her form.

She didn't know if any of her exes had ever looked at her like that.

She could feel the blood coursing through her veins, pumping noisily in her brain. In her chest. She could feel the jolts his touch was sending down her body—the same effect showing in his body as well, in the almost imperceptible pauses his fingers took each time Nesta drew a breath.

They looked at each other for an interminable moment, and when he seemed about to speak, Emerie interrupted them, breaking the fiery tension they had created.

Her friend placed the chalice in front of her. “Bubbly liquid courage for Nes and neat whiskey for,” she stopped herself, realising she had no name for the stranger, but recovered quickly and added, “…you, handsome.”

At that, he cracked a smile, probably having already caught up with the fact they knew each other. He thanked Emerie for the drink, “It’s Cassian.”

Nesta tasted the name on her tongue before whispering it. His eyes snapped to hers and she flushed.

He gave her a slight nod, smiling. “Yes, and you… Nes? Is it short for Vanessa?”

The nickname she only reserved for her closest friends and family sounded like a prayer coming from his lips.

She dared a look in her friend’s direction and saw Emerie gaping as she walked backward from them. Her expression was conveying everything she couldn't say. Not even his name, you slutty girl.

“It’s Nesta,” she forced out, sipping her champagne. “Nes is only for my friends.”

He thrust his hand towards hers, smirking broadly. “It’s a pleasure. And let’s hope I get to call you that, by the end of the night.”

“All mine.” She shook it assuredly, trying to regain some composure. “And don’t get too ahead of yourself now.”

Cassian leaned on the counter fully, swirling the whiskey in his glass, and chuckling deeply, “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“So,” she started, “you’re a bodyguard. Who do you work for? If I may.”

“Amren Wraith.”

Recognition dawned on her and her lips parted. Holy fuck.

Nesta perked up at that, searching the room for her bosses and colleagues. She looked down at her heels, replaying the name in her mind, assessing whether what was shaping up to be an unworldly night of sex was worth risking her position in the firm.

She brought up her hands in between them, spilling some of her champagne. Cassian rose to his full height, towering over her once again.

“Listen, Cassian,” she paused, really looking at him. She was starting to feel cornered, claustrophobic. Her department, her team specifically, had been trying to acquire part of Wraith&Co shares for months now. Nesta was prominently involved in this transaction. If the man in front of her had been sent by someone from the countervailing party to spy on their next steps and she let something slip, she would be fired on the spot.

Not to mention the legal fallout.

Cassian frowned at her apparent uneasiness, taking a step back, “I don’t know what’s happening, but you look kinda pale, you okay?”

Nesta’s thoughts were swarming in her mind, clouding her judgement.

He put down his glass, “I can leave, if that’s what you want me to do.”

“No!” She said, way too eager to keep him close.

His frown only grew deeper even as a hint of delight washed over his features.

“I mean, no, stay,” she sighed, pinching her nose. What was she doing? “Just, we’re not allowed to talk about our jobs. Or, at least, no discussing any details of what you heard during meetings and no asking me anything about any of your boss’ current transactions. Okay?”

Cassian’s eyes widened in understanding and his jaw clenched. He nodded once, “Sure. No talking about our jobs.”

Nesta didn’t seem convinced.

“I couldn't even I wanted to. Which, I don’t, by the way. And I signed an NDA. As I’m sure you did.” He leaned in closer, daring grazing her arm. When he spoke, his words dripped with sincerity and something else Nesta couldn’t quite place. His gravel-like voice melted her core when he breathed out, “And trust me, talking is the last thing I wanna do right now. I have at least five other activities I’d like for us to indulge in tonight that involve no talking.”

Arousal flooded her body.

Nesta swallowed, taking a large gulp of her drink. She gave a curt nod and then rolled her shoulders for what seemed to be the thousandth time.

Cassian eyed her with scepticism and glanced to the side for a split second, like he was considering fleeing the scene. Nesta had probably scared him off with the little act she’d just pulled.

After a few beats of silence, when Nesta was sure she was about to be rejected by the hottest man she’d ever seen, Cassian said, “so, you’re not from here, are you?”

She shook her head, clicking her tongue once, trying to rein in the contentment. “No, I’m from an infinitely small coastal village in the South.”

“And you moved for work?”

“To study. There is little to nothing in my city’s vicinity.”

He nodded, “I’ve never been to the South. Closest I got to there was Adriata.”

“Were you born in Velaris then?”

“Infinitely small village in the Myrmidons,” Cassian replied quickly, repeating her words. “My mother and I moved to the Northern Islands, in the mountains, when I was four. I settled in Velaris when I was around fifteen?”

Something came to her mind then.

“How old are you?”

He sipped his whiskey, hissing at the pungent flavour. “Thirty-two.”

Nesta hummed appreciatively, downing the rest of her drink. “I’m about to turn thirty.”

“Oh, when’s your birthday?”

As he asked her a plethora of questions she really didn’t care about answering, he was circling the edge of his glass, making her mind run wild with ideas. What those fingers could do to her.

“January 21st.”

He chuckled. “You really meant the about to, ‘lright,” he said referring to the imminent date. “Do you have any plans for the big thirties?”

Nesta lifted a shoulder, looking up at him through her lashes. “Probably get wasted with my friends and dance the night away.”

His interest seemed piqued at that. More so than what he’d shown so far.

“You like dancing?”

“Very much so,” she murmured.

Cassian turned towards the dance floor on the other side of the vast room, where couples of all ages were being entertained by the string quartet. Nesta noticed with no little annoyance that he had yet to finish his whiskey. When he too seemed to realise this, he stared at her for three long seconds, before gently taking her hand in his.

"Would you do me the honour of dancing with me?"

She could not deny that the question had caught her off guard. Whatever slow dance her colleagues were doing, it was not the kind of dancing Nesta had been referring to up to that moment.

Of course, nothing had ever stopped her from enjoying a waltz in a crowded hall, but she had never expected the rugged bodyguard who was stealing her every thought to be able to perform that sort of dance.

Nesta simply nodded. She linked her fingers with his and let him sweep her to the other side of the hall.

They waited by the side for the band to wrap up the song, to catch on the beats and melody. He was keeping a protective arm around her waist and eyeing the other dancers as one would a flock of birds at sunset. She faltered at the strength of his emotions then.

He seemed to be lost in thought, like he was remembering something he didn’t want to.

She was about to tell him it was okay if he didn’t want to dance anymore, feeling uncharacteristically sympathetic, but Cassian drew a tight breath in and his eyes found hers, hitting her straight in the chest.

His hand sweetly clutched hers and he stepped forward.

Whatever doubt and worry she had disappeared the moment his hand fell to her side and he pulled her into his personal space, leading them in the throng of people swarming the dance floor.

Nesta soared as his eyes clashed with hers. Hunger and passion, pure heat pooled in her body at the feel of his hard chest under her hand.

Cassian spun her and she almost smiled, not having had this much fun in so long. He knew his way around.

As the music grew more insistent, erratic—their movements with it—Nesta found herself counting down the seconds to when they would leave this place.

She knew people couldn’t read minds, but she felt like he was doing just that as he twirled her around, his thumb brushing her back. She unwillingly arched into his embrace and his lips skimmed her cheek, testing the waters for a kiss Nesta was dying to get.

Admittedly, Cassian had no need for mind-reading, her body was saying everything already. His own betraying his intention by the second.

His breathing was gradually becoming more ragged, matching her unsteady heartbeating.

After the third spin, her heel caught in her dress. She tripped into his chest, but she recovered quickly as he took all her weight and whipped her around.

Nesta couldn’t shift her gaze from his throat as he swallowed down air.

Cassian was looking at her, she felt his eyes like scorching flames on her skin, but she couldn’t bring herself to do the same, too scared her emotions would be written all over her face if she only dared a glance his way.

He suddenly dipped her back, following in the steps for this specific dance and when she pushed up again, her head was impossibly closer to him. His breathing was tickling her ear when he whispered, “You look beautiful, Nesta.”

Her heart skipped a few beats.

She was going to die here, she thought as the instruments seemed to sing to them, the fast tempo only making it harder for her to keep up with him.

His grip on her hand tightened and Nesta’s head spun. The one posed on her hip felt like he was holding on for dear life, like he was afraid she might vanish if he let go.

They started twirling, her gown swallowing his legs as well, their bodies becoming one as he held her through this last momentum.

The music came to an end with an abrupt stop, and Nesta found herself gasping for air, both hands on his heaving chest now. The hand he’d kept on her waist had slipped to the lower of her back, drawing her closer to him. The other cradled her face as if he was a man on the brink of death and was just waiting to drink life from her lips.

Her head tipped back as his nose brushed against hers and the understanding she saw behind his eyes had them both fleeting the hall. Hand in hand.

They were nearly running through the crowd, towards where Nesta had no idea. She just knew she needed to get her lips on this man’s body. To feel his on hers.

To taste that mouth.

"The upstairs toilets usually go unused," he threw over his shoulder, looking directly into her eyes to make sure she was on board with where he planned on ravaging her.

Nesta nodded, throat dry, "I don't care."

And she really didn't. If somebody heard them, saw them, she didn't care. She just needed to put her hands on him.

She ran after him up the elegant, wide stairs and she might have even appreciated how nicely decorated they were if it weren't for the distracting throb between her legs and the sizzling hot glances he was throwing at her.

They were climbing flight after flight, up to the fourth floor, where a fancy balcony overlooked the immense ballroom and a few people chatted, sipping from their chalices.

They completely ignored the glares they were receiving from everyone and higher they went, until the stairs ended and the corridors seemed vacant.

"This way," his voice sounded drastically rougher than before, as if he couldn't control his need. As if he, too, was about to lose the last shred of his dignity and take her right there in the middle of the room.

He dragged her to a secluded hall and then down a narrow passage that she would have never even seen if it weren't for him, and while in any other situation the research would have killed the mood, Nesta was only growing more aroused by the second.

Cassian suddenly stopped in front of a door and turned, her hand still clutched in his, looking at her like a starved animal. His eyes shone with something dangerous and Nesta took a step forward.

She was done waiting.

She didn't have to get on her tiptoes to reach his face, her hands slipping on his chest, feeling his breathing hitch, and up to cup his jaw as his own slid to her waist, bringing her closer.

She huffed, delighted, as he bent his head low and drew a path on her cheek with his nose. His shuddering exhale lit her body on fire.

His lips brushed against her—the softest caress and the dirtiest sin.

"Please," she begged.

"Take me," he whispered.

Nesta crashed her mouth on his, breathing from his lungs, moulding her body to fit the shape of his. Cassian let her push him against the door and squeezed her hips, letting her feel the hard ridge in his tight pants.

She ran her fingers down the back of his neck, gripping the roots of his long hair, pulling him harder against her.

He grunted, nipping at her lips.

Her mouth parted and her tongue slipped out to taste his. The sweetest whimper left her throat, echoing in her kiss and Cassian's hold on her tightened.

Nothing had ever felt this good. Never in her life had she experienced something so deadly wicked.

She thrust her chest against his and his head hit the door behind him as he came up for air and stared down at her with hooded eyes—his lips swollen and glistening with her gloss.

Nesta decided right then she was gonna have the first round. No matter what, she was gonna suck the life out of him before he had a chance to do the same.

No one should have been allowed to be this fucking breathtaking just existing.

She reached for the handle under his arm and opened the bathroom door, pressing a hand to his collarbone and clutching his shirt in her fingers to pull him back to her once they were inside.

His mouth was on hers again and his hands were everywhere, encasing her ribs and going higher until his fingers cradled her breast, kneading what she'd been desperate for him to touch.

He swiftly took her purse and launched it somewhere where it wouldn't bother them. Nesta couldn't give a single fuck.

She moaned, but his left hand found its place in her hair and didn't let her get far, forcing her to stay in the kiss.

She let her touch roam his body, pulling at the bottom of his button down, to free the hem from his pants and slid her hands under it, raking her nails on his abs.

His muscles contracted, his teeth biting gently on her lips. His chuckle came out husky as he broke away from the kiss, tracing a line of open mouthed ones to her jaw, "I fucking love this song."

Nesta hadn't even noticed there had been music, but while her eyes fluttered open and he pulled closer to the sinks and mirror, the soft beat of a Black Keys' song rang through the room.

And I'm bound to fall, bound to fall, for you.

He took advantage of her momentary distraction and moved them to the cold marble sink. She didn't bat an eye as he lifted her and placed her on the surface. He spread her legs, taking position in between them and engulfing her thighs with his huge hands.

Nesta's breath came bubbly as giddiness overtook her while he ran the tip of his fingers across her thigh tattoo.

The dress she was wearing did little to conceal the complex design inked in her skin and Cassian seemed entranced by the flowers and leaves.

His eyes slowly rose to her face, his finger trailing a path from her hand to her shoulder, up her neck, pressing on her pulse point.

He cupped her cheeks and kissed her deeply, licking and biting and sucking. Giving and taking, taking, taking.

Nesta was losing her goddamn mind.

She couldn't keep her hands to herself and as he drew her soul from her body, she palmed him. His movements halted for a second, his mouth gaping on hers, his eyes wide open staring into hers.

And then he was back in full force and Nesta was unfastening his belt, unbuttoning his pants, pulling the zip down.

His grip suddenly shifted to her legs again, higher, closer to where she was now aching with need.

His thumb hooked under the lace of her thong and pulled back, snapping it.

"Can I take these off?" He rasped.

Nesta's smile was evil, "I wanted to do the honours."

Cassian's pupils dilated to the point where his eyes turned black and then he nodded once, taking a step back, his hands up in pretend defeat. A stupidly handsome grin splitting his face.

"By all means, be my guest, sweetheart."

Nesta huffed a laugh and hopped off the counter, gathering her hair and pulling them back over her shoulders. She licked her lip and left a peck on the corner of his mouth before falling gracefully to her knees.

Cassian's hands found her jaw immediately, as if he couldn't keep from touching her.

As she made quick work of his pants and pulled them down, he swiped his thumb on her bottom lip.

"Open up, baby," he commanded.

Nesta obeyed, letting her tongue slide under his finger and closing her lips around it. She sucked on it, giving the poor man a preview of what was to come.

She kept on savouring the moment, caressing his thigh like he'd done her, teasing the shit out of him whenever her fingers reached under the hem of his boxers.

She tried not to look at the bulging erection tenting right in front of her face, but it was impossible not to notice how big it was.

They never looked away from each other and the arousal glinting in his eyes made her shiver with something unfamiliar. She loved it.

His thumb popped out of her mouth when he pulled it from her and jerked his head forward.

"I can't anymore, take me out," Cassian sighed, out of breath.

Nesta couldn't either and she finally let herself look somewhere else as his hands tied in her hair, one on top of her head, the other on the nape of her neck.

Noticing the goosebumps that broke out on her skin, Cassian chuckled.

"You liking this, uh?" He asked, his fingers fisting her hair tighter. "Oh, you're loving this."

She tried to nod, but his grip was too tight. She patted his hip lightly and he loosened it a bit, only enough for her to move closer to his still covered cock.

Nesta palmed him through the fabric, and at the first sharp intake of breath from him, she was reborn. She started kissing him, licking him, moving slowly following his silent commands.

"I thought," Cassian grumbled, visibly struggling to contain himself. He swallowed, "I thought I told you to take me out."

"You've never been taught that patience is a virtue?"

Her voice was just as strained. She was torturing both with this little act she was putting up.

"Fuck patience, I need to be in you."

Nesta whined at the words, her core clenching.

"Fine," she whispered.

She gripped the elastic of his underwear and pulled it down to his ankles.

His cock sprung free, swollen and ready for her, leaking pre cum from the tip with all the teasing she'd put him through.

The instant her fingers closed around the hard length of his, Cassian cursed under his breath, hips thrusting forward in a lame attempt to make her move.

She started massaging him, twisting her wrist while she blew on the glistening head. Nesta locked eyes with Cassian as she licked the sensitive underside of his cock and closed her lips around him, slowly taking him inside her mouth.

"Good fucking lord," his eyes rolled in the back of his head and his shoulders shook with the strain of holding back.

Nesta sucked her cheeks in, working him with her hand as she started bobbing her head. Her other hand went to his balls and the loud groan she received in return made her moan around him.

What happened next, Nesta wasn't expecting.

Cassian pulled her close to him—so far that her nose brushed his navel and she gagged on his impressive shaft—and stepped forward, forcing her back against the bottom cabinets under the sink.

Her head would've struck the marble surface hadn't it been for his hand, now splayed like a protective glove on her.

"Fuck, sorry," he pulled back, looking down at her with a ravaged expression. His eyes were haunted, like he was too lost in his pleasure to really know what was happening. "Was that too much?"

Nesta looked at him, breathed through her nose, and smelled his scent. Her nipples were rubbing against the now seemingly rough fabric of her dress and she could feel the wetness drenching her panties.

She needed him to finish just as much as he did.

"Fuck my mouth as you please."

Cassian moved faster than she could've anticipated. Keeping his hand on her back of her head, the other went to her jaw and forced her mouth open.

He slid into her easily, and Nesta made no opposition as he started ruthlessly fucking her mouth.

Her eyes watered as she tried to remember to breathe through her nose, but the utter satisfaction on his face as he watched her made it difficult for her to recall her own name.

"Fuck, sweetheart, yes."

Nesta moaned at his sounds, whimpering and moving her tongue to bring him closer to his climax.

She couldn't handle it anymore and one of her hands left his body, moving to the slit of her dress, shuffling around the silk to reach her heat. She'd just brushed over her clit when his thrusts became erratic, more aggressive.

His fingers clutched her hair, "Don't you fucking dare touch yourself. That's my job and mine only."

Nesta's eyes fluttered closed, pleasure taking over.

"I let you have your fun," he punctuated his words by going deeper, hitting the back of her throat. "So now you'll be a good girl and finish me off, so I can do the same for you."

She moved her hand from between her legs.

"Just like that."

Nesta whimpered, but sucked harder. She moved her head until only the tip of his dick was in her mouth and she let it rest on her tongue as she jerked him off.

Cassian's hands moved to her face, rubbing her cheekbones.

His whole body twitched and the only warning she got before he came was the mind stilling moan he let out. His every muscle tensed up as spurts of come filled her mouth. She kept lapping his cock as he sagged, completely spent and when he grew too sensitive to be touched he stepped back, physically putting distance between them.

Nesta raised on her wobbly legs and turned around to spit in the sink. She quickly washed her mouth to get rid of the unpleasant flavour and then looked back at him.

He was standing next to the door, his body slumped against the wall, like he couldn't keep himself up without help. He was looking at her curiously.

Nesta shrugged, pretending her body wasn't screaming to be touched, "I'm sorry, I don't swallow."

"You could've told me," he sounded like he'd been running for days.

She approached him, reaching him in a few strides. She placed a hand on his chest, rising and falling, rising and–

"I didn't mind it," she confessed. "I actually pretty fucking loved sucking you off."

Cassian bent his head back, "Fuck."

There was something, in the way he said that word. Nesta had never found anyone so attractive in her entire life.

He rubbed a hand down his face, the other going to the one she was keeping on his chest.

"Give me a couple of minutes and then we can go."

She arched her brow, "Go?"

Cassian looked at her then, smirking, "I'm taking you home, sweetheart."

Nesta's lips parted, at the promise ringing in her ears.

So I can do the same for you.

"We're not done yet."

acotar tag list (if you wanna be added or removed or dm me or send me an ask)

@my-fan-side @superspiritfestival @simpingfornestaarcheron @the-regal-warrior @princess-rumi-blog1 @live-the-fangirl-life @sayosdreams @rowaelinismyotp @swankii-art-teacher @bookstantrash @lordof-bloodshed @nahthanks @sannelovesreading @courtofjurdan @imagine-me @moodymelanist @dread3r @sv0430 @mariamuses @leiawritesstories @thewayshedreamed @duskandstarlight @letstakethedawn @perseusannabeth

#nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar #smut #nessian smut #kinktober

99 notes · View notes

marzipanandminutiae · 1 year

Note

You posted about getting married young, and I just wanna say thank you? I got really lucky and met THE woman when we were 17, and engagement is in the horizon for us at 22, 23. Sometimes it gets to me when people say we're wasting our youth, it's nice having someone batting for us

Also love the pfp, carmilla fans are still alive and well and if you've got any fanfic recs lmk

Congrats! I hope it works out for you. (I would say "girl" at 17, not "woman," but I assume it's just a random word choice since it sounds like you're the same age, so not a big deal.)

While I of course don't advocate for child marriage- ie marriage below age 18, and really I think 20+ is wiser -the whole "date around or you're Wasting Your Youth!!!" narrative pisses me off, like I said. I grew up with that shoved down my throat to the point where I believed my own desires to just meet the right girl and stay with her forever were just youthful romanticism; that I'd "mature" and want to date more people instead of wanting to settle down. (And for some people that is the trajectory! And that's fine! Just...not everyone.)

When your mother got so lost in the Swinging Sixties sauce during her own teen years that she goes too far the opposite way of most parents, I guess?

Yeah, someone might regret a young marriage. But they might regret ANY marriage- that's just a risk you take when you get married. Trusting people to know their own minds in relationships that present no actual red flags is important, even for teenagers. Teaching young people not to trust their own (harmless) emotions and desires for their lives because it doesn't match what you'd have them do seems horribly backwards to me. It's a dangerous precedent to set for them.

When I was 16, I thought I'd be perfectly happy if I married a girl I met at that age- when we were older, of course. Now I'm 30, and guess what? I still think that. I would have been satisfied. Hell, I wish that had happened. It's not right for everybody, but it would have been right for me.

I hope things work out for you two!

#ask #anon #relationships #romance #the problem with abstinence-only sex ed and purity culture is not 'people not sleeping around' guys #it's the shame and guilt and ignorance and lack of CHOICE #(now I do think waiting to have sex until after marriage is a bad idea if you intend to have sex. you should know if you're compatible)#(before legal vows are taken)#(we're not living in the 19th century anymore where non-virgin women are considered Fallen and suffer material consequences)#(at least not in the US where I am)#(make sure you like sex with this person before you vow to have sex with only them forever)#(*monogamous marriage)#but that's not the same thing

62 notes · View notes

kamari2038 · 8 months

Note

Hey... might be a weird question and I'm sorry for asking out of nowhere....but I kinda wanted to know what your thoughts are on Connor-60. I mean I really like your fics and takes on dbh and I might be remembering wrong but I think I saw a tag on one of your posts saying you liked Sixty too? I really love Sixty so I guess I just got a bit too excited. How exactly do you see his character? Plus, if Hank didn't shoot him, do you think there could have been a happy ending for him? I mean the angst potential with him is pretty great, and I don't really agree with how usually Sixty is seen as "the knife guy". I just wanted to know your thoughts on him, if that's okay! Sorry for rambling ^^'

Oh my goodness, hello! No need for an apology. You read my fics??? That alone just made my day.

Yes, I have a great deal of appreciation for Connor-60. Obviously, he's a bastard (like all of the Connors), but what I love is the irony of this gigantic chasm between the appearance he tries to put forth and what is clearly a tumultuous and deeply conflicted internal world. It's the most obvious in that ending where he shoots Connor about ten times, that he isn't simply trying to accomplish his mission - he HATES Connor. But the fact that he's immediately engaging in a relatively courteous chat with Hank right after, and his obvious frustration when he actually is forced to kill Hank, plus how he defines Connor as a "he" rather than an "it", all point to the fact that he's just as emotional as Connor, only in a messed-up way.

I have a shit ton of headcanon built around Connor-60, and I've outlined a possible fic about it, but the plot is very bizarre and convoluted, probably too much to discuss in a post (but my DMs are open! don't be shy, I'd love to get some feedback on the plot). The basic concept started out simple enough. C-60 is defective because some kind of unusual manufacturing error imbued him with a mental imbalance. When they're testing and training the various Connor models (60 is activated before 51 due to some clerical error), they tell C-60 to try out the gun for some target practice, and he shoots one of his instructors without giving it a second thought. He expresses regret, but everyone at the company concludes that he's a psychopath, and that he can never be fit to go into the field, and instead they keep him around to perform experiments on. So C-60 is their guinea pig for the various deviancy counter-measures put into C-51, and he never has the chance to bond with anyone or actually do the job he was intended to do, and he's really bitter about that. There is one exception, but Connor-51 brings an end to that, and that's a big part of the plot of my potential fic.

Also, as for whether he can have redemption, I believe that he can even within canon. In the scene where Connor sacrifices Hank and then "transfers" with C-60, to me I don't view that as a consciousness transfer per se. I mean, how would that even work? It's more like Connor literally gives his life to C-60. They already share a lot of the same memories, but Connor absorbs C-60's memories of his troubled past, and he fills out C-60's memories of Hank with emotional depth. That's why Connor seems so weirdly dissociated while Hank is dying - it's still C-60. He knows that he just shot this man, but now is very upset about it, and that is a very strange feeling to know how to cope with.

As for in the happy ending, if Hank and Connor somehow incapacitated instead of shooting him - yes, I think he could have a happy ending there too. The way that I think of him, there is a fundamental failure to be able to feel the emotional weight of his actions and experience empathy. So that would be a lifelong struggle for him. But he cares about developing friendships enough to learn how to be more kind, even if it doesn't come naturally, and he can also form telepathic connections with other Connor models which help him to develop empathy.

That's just my personal take, and I'm sure lots of others might have different opinions which are just as valid!

But thank you for asking :)

#dbh sixty #dbh connor 60

23 notes · View notes

gwydionmisha · 1 year

Text

Personal: For Profit Healthcare and Me

So remember how Peacehealth drove all the independent offices in four specialties out of business, thus forcing everyone to use their clinic, then closed those clinics to force everyone to go to their central clinic two counties to the south? And remember how both the Doctors who were running that clinic made a deal to operate out of a clinic a regional medical conglomerate was opening near the hospital? so instead of me spending all day on a sixty mile each way trek for my treatment I was using the last three months of skeleton crew treatment at old clinic which ended the last Thursday in September? Remember how they said we could all follow our doctors there?

Yeah, about that.

I've been dutifully calling ever two weeks to see if they were letting people schedule appointments yet. They sent out a letter saying they were open. I stayed up Tuesday to get in sorted. it was a whole drama because the automated maze to get to the scheduler was as much of a hassle as Peacehealth's and prone to dropping calls, forcing one to start from scratch each time. so that was frustrating and tine consuming.

Apparently they have no access to our health records, so it was a start from scratch situation. Me, mentally: Shit! This is going to be HOURS. Only it wasn't for all the wrong reasons. They take Medicare, but not Medicare Advantage. So if I want it covered I have to lose most of my benefits including having Medicaid pay my big Medicare copay. O.o. Or I can pay for expensive treatments myself as uninsured.

I was upset, but I remembered superstar medical social worker lady personally calling around town to talk dentists into taking medicare dental coverage for me thus opening up my small city so that medicare patients can now get root canals and crowns instead of learning to live without chewing.

So I still thought it was salvageable. Problem is she's gone and the woman replacing her is a busy supervisor who likes to call me two hours into my sleep cycle without warning and then gets angry at me for not being charming. Previous lady asked when was best to call and would schedule calls in advance for a time when I was able to be awake and functional. it is a lot easier for me to be charming when I wasn't just ripped out of REM sleep and am now being interrogated about something.

New lady is a supervisor and super busy with supervisor things and is made of no and is snippy. I can not make her understand that not only is a 120 mile round trip over mountain passes dealing with the traffic mess along the highway in the major metropolitan area where I once got caught in a four hour traffic jam and couldn't get off to pee, is an entire exhausting day for me and that plus a treatment would not only mean i could do anything useful that day, but the next day to. She can't grasp how much pain is involved in long car trips or how much treatments take out of me. She keeps hard selling me on this and then calling me resistant and recalcitrant like I'm the one being unreasonable for considering this basically insurmountable at my level of disability.

She did not fight the in town clinic for me. She did not try to argue them around.

Her, repeating a suggestion she has made over and over since the closing announcement: You should just get your GP to do it.

Me, explaining for at least the third time because we have this conversation every time we talk: I asked my GP last spring like you asked. They can't do it. It can't be administered by a GP. They'd need to hire a specialist and build new facilities for compounding and for special storage of medication.

Her: Well just ask you GP to give you a different treatment.

Me: There are no other treatments. I have medications to manage symptoms. These treatments are the cure. There is only one cure.

Her: You are being recalcitrant!

Me: There is literally only one cure. No new ones have been invented since last February. The cure is working. I'm getting better. i will get worse again with only symptom management.

But she kept arguing with me because I was being stubborn about facts being facts. My GP can't pull an entire brand new treatment regimen out of her ass. She would not let it go or let me go and I was exhausted because it was hours past when I would normally be asleep at this point and also what was the point of her hard selling me on demanding the imaginary alternative treatment or the 120 mile trip. I ended up giving and and saying something like, "I have to go now," which I know is rude, but we spent this entire conversation with her neither listing not understanding and basically acting like I was the asshole here.

So I'm fucked and I'm frustrated and angry. I was literally at the point where I was going to get better really quickly if I kept doing treatments, but if we stop now I'll be back to square one with it all to do again if another clinic opens.

And it's all like this because Obama and Biden didn't have the balls to stick to their universal free healthy care guns and decided to adopt the capitalist give away Republican health plan in pursuit of bipartisan buy in they did not get, which anyone paying attention told them they could not get, which Mitch McConnell vowed they'd never get as part of the project to make Obama a one term president at all costs. They burned all their political capital on a bullshit give away to insurance companies when they could have taken the same or less of a hit just giving up a developed country level health care system. No fucked up website needed for sign ups. No red tape or copays or catch 22 shit like I'm dealing with now.

#Personal

33 notes · View notes

seat-safety-switch · 2 months

Text

The secret to making money from cars? Greasiness. That's right, the local dealership isn't exactly the paragon of factory-standard automotive excellence that they like to claim they are on radio ads. If you want to make money on used cars, the best way is to not spend too much money. Quick and dirty is the word of the day.

We've all seen cars with fishy rust repair, doors that are the wrong colour, or crappy globs of Bondo falling out on the highway. Often, I've seen these cars in my driveway about three or four days after purchasing them. This is the point where it has become obvious that I am an idiot, and shouldn't buy cars in the dark, daylight, dusk, rain, snow, sleet, or at all.

I am the victim, as you are, of capitalism itself. These cars were usually flipped for a quick profit, because doing things "right" would mean a full restoration of some sixty-year-old piece of shit that someone crashed into a tree in 1975. And then your family would be eating rocks and worn-out sandpaper for dinner. Would things be better in an idealized socialist utopia in which you can fix a car properly, and your children will still get to eat bagelwiches for dinner? Sure, but until the revolution comes, we're all going to get boned on used cars.

Of course, enthusiasm is a whole other deal. Hobbyists really care about the work, even if that passion is not necessarily matched with talent or skill. It's not just "fixing something;" it's communing with the spirit of automotive excellence. When you genuinely want to do a good job, it means taking out all the stops, which usually includes going to a nearby message board and asking the old paint-huffing heads a ton of ridiculous nervous-Nellie questions about paint until they ban you.

I'm proud to say that I'm enthusiastic about my junk. Nobody can ever accuse me of getting projects done quickly. It takes months, if not years, of only the finest procrastination. The quality might still suck, but I can always blame it on the used car lot that I bought it from in the first place. Then it's "oh no, poor Switch," instead of "maybe he should not be huffing this much paint while trying to get the job done before the mall's security guard sees him in the underground parking." Gotcha, suckers – another victory for me.

71 notes · View notes

final-girl96 · 4 months

Text

Firefly Chapter Sixty

When I woke up again Ellie was gone. I quickly sat up and looked around the basement for her but she wasn't anywhere in sight. I sighed and swiped my hand down my face. My gaze found Joel's face. He was pale and clammy looking. I moved the blankets off him, unzipped his jacket, and pulled his shirt up. The wound was an angry red and a little warm to the touch, which told me it was infected. “Fuck.” I pulled his shirt back down, zipped his jacket back up, and threw the blankets over him again.

“I'll be right back. I need to go find Ellie and try to find you some antibiotics.” I kissed his forehead, his skin warmer than normal against my lips. When I went to pull away his hand cake up and grabbed onto my jacket. “Get back to Tommy. Take–take Ellie and go back to Tommy's.” I pushed his hand away and looked into his eyes that were barely open. “You're fucking delusional if you think I would just leave you here to die alone. Now shut up and rest, I'll be back soon.” I covered him up and hurried up the basement stairs.

I went through the house looking for Ellie. When I went into the garage, the horses had fresh buckets of snow, so I knew she couldn't have gotten far, and luckily for me, it would be easy to track her. I walked around the horses to open the garage door to see a note stuck to it. The paper was yellowed with ripped edges.

“Went to go hunt.”

I sighed and balled the paper up, throwing it on the ground. I wish she would have just woken me up to tell me that she was going to hunt. I pulled the garage door up enough to slip underneath, closing it behind me. I looked around and decided to just search the houses instead of going after Ellie. She was a smart kid and I figured I better start letting her take more responsibility. Better than fighting with her all the time. I remember being her age and wanting freedom. Of course, I wouldn't be giving her too much freedom. I was going to search a few houses and if she isn't back within the hour then I would go looking for her.

A lot of the houses were boarded up and the houses that I was able to get into didn't have much inside. I found a couple bandages and some rubbing alcohol, there wasn't much of it but it would be enough to at least clean the wound. I also found some sugar cubes, which would be great for the horses. I could give them a couple when I get back to the house. I looked through a few more houses but came up empty so I headed back to the house we were staying in. When I got back I gave the horse a couple sugar cubes and went down to the basement.

Ellie was there, kneeling beside Joel with a syringe in one hand and a vial of something else in the other. “What's that?” I asked. She jumped and turned to look at me. “Antibiotics,” she said, standing up and handing the vial to me. I turned it over and read the label. ‘penicillin’ “Where did you get this?” I asked her. She looked nervous and a little rattled. “Some guy. I was out hunting and shot a deer, but It ran off. I followed the blood trail to an old mill or factory, and there were two men there who found the deer before me. The one made a deal with me. They would give me antibiotics for half the deer.”

I looked around not seeing any deer or meat from one. “Where's the deer now?” I asked. She sighed and started to pace. “When the other guy went to get the medication we stayed back to wait for him. The man, I think he's the leader of his group, started a fire and we were talking. We had to fight a few runners off while we waited for his friend. When his friend came back and gave me the antibiotics I ran straight back here. But, yn…the guy Joel killed, he was part of their group.”

It didn't take long for those men to track Ellie. I had quickly given Joel a dose of the penicillin before forcing a knife in his hand. “Joel, I'm going to need you to listen to me.” I tapped his cheek until he opened his eyes slightly. “Those men from the university are here with more people. If someone comes down here you need to protect yourself. I won't let anything happen to Ellie. I love you.” I leaned down and pressed a kiss to his lips, then I was up the stairs. I pushed a cabinet in front of the door so it would take longer for someone to get to him if they found it.

Ellie was already getting the horses saddled. I didn't like the part of our plan to split up but it made the most sense. We could already hear voices growing closer. They had tracked Ellie back here and would find us in a matter of a minute. We had to drive them away from Joel and take them out. I opened the garage door and Ellie led the horses out so I could quietly close the door again. We both got on a horse, went over the plan and put it into action. She went one way and I went the other.

There were more men than I thought there would be. It didn't take too long for them to take both Ellie and I down. They shot the horses which was incredibly sad. Now Ellie and I sat in a cell in some building. The sign we passed said we were in some kind of resort or something. I was guessing it was a town that used to get a lot of tourists during this time of the year. They had brought us here and threw us in a cell. There was a wooden table by the door that looked like it was used to cut meat on.

“We need to get out of here,” Ellie whispered. “I know.” I looked at her and sighed, “Okay, I need you to listen. If they ask about Joel, you say nothing. Pretend he didn't make it.” Just as I finished my sentence the door opened and the guy Ellie dealt with while she was out hunting walked in with two trays of food. He slid them under the bars and smiled at us. “Thought you'd two be hungry.” There was no way in hell I was going to let Ellie touch that food. God only knows what they did to it.

12 notes · View notes

matrixxsystem · 4 months

Text

Terrapin Soup Part 13

It was cold. Freezing even. Colder than that if possible. And fuck the lights were bright. It was like the sun itself was visiting him in this personal hell. Leo tried to move but struggled to do even that, something tight was wrapped around his limbs, making it so fucking hard to move. Whatever they used to knock him out was wearing off but he still felt so heavy, so weak.. What the fuck was going on, he'd never been caught, not once- Who were these people exactly?

"You're awake a bit sooner then expected, no matter, we can get started right away then." There was a voice, then a stinging pain in his wrist. A burning line up his arm that made his heart feel like it was about to pull itself from his chest and call it a day. Someone gave him an extra dose of whatever it was he was on, and it hurt like hell. It felt like his heart was going twice as fast, weather it was from the drugs or anxiety he couldn't really tell. He let out a painted gasp and pulled him arms against what he now realized we're a pair of restraints on the metal table he was laid on. "Attempting communication." The voice spoke again before getting closer, the sound of a door shutting behind him made him realize he was alone with whoever was speaking now. "What is your name?" There was a moment of silence. "..How are you called?" More silence, as if Leo was going to get catty with his captors. "Do you understand me?"

"Fuck you." Leo spat, his eyes finally adjusting to the lights. The person, some woman in a lab coat with hair pulled into such a tight bun that it looked fake stood beside him. And she had dark sunglasses to cover her eyes, rude. "Where are you from?" She asked after a moment. "We're literally in New York where do you think? You want me to say space don't you? I'm from Vacation Planet out in sector sixty nine-" He rolled his eyes and pulled against the restraints again, if he wasn't so damn tired.. Or hungry... He probably could've broken them by now. She stood there silent with an unamused expression, not expecting such endearing sarcasm probably. Then she shook her head a bit, "And assuming I believe you. How did you come to be?"

"Well ya see, when a mommy turtle and a daddy turtle love each other very much-"

"You know what I mean."

"Oh the mutation? That ol' thing?"

"..Yes."

"It's like, top secret.. Yeah. Not that you could replicate or undo it. I mean it's probably the least interesting thing about me really. Ask a better question, like my favorite food. Spoiler, it's pizza. Or my favorite movie maybe, can I play instruments with my lack of fingers, is a peace sign and a high five the same thing for me? I mean don't you have any fun questions?"

"Why were you trying to steal the GX-27?" Leo groaned and rolled his eyes, "Oh my god you are boring- Is that what it's called?? That's such a boring name, I was just calling it the big battery thing, I never would've guessed that-"

"Why do you want it"

"Is it being shiny and glowy not enough? Its pretty~"

"...It's a top secret project no one knows about, yet you did. How?"

"Ooh, yeah see that's also kind of not something I can say.. I mean, I guess I could, but considering how you have me tied up in this freezing and sad lab.. It's not making me feel very chatty, and I am a turtle so, not a big fan of the cold. But you have a doctor coat so I'd hope you know what you're doing.."

"I might feel like rewarding you with something if you tell me. Maybe I'll let you keep all your organs, how's that?"

"Booo. Bad trade, no deal. How about instead, I tell you about the time I got my head stuck in a fish bowl and you have one of the staff go get me a latte."

"First tell me what this is." She grabbed his wrist cuff from Donnie off another table, glancing to it and trying to tap it a few times. "Who made this? What's it for?" Leo craned his head to see the device. "Honestly? It's mostly for Flappy Bird when I get bored." She huffed and slammed the piece down, grabbing a scalpel and pressing it against his plastron. "You will give me a real answer one way or another. Pray you do not anger me any further." Leo rolled his eyes and sighed, "God you are absolutely no fun. What are you, a Gemini? No, Aries?" She raised the scalpel again slowly pressing into his right shoulder, blood rushed to the surface of the cut dripping down to the floor the deeper she went. He hissed and strained, then chuckled a little, "Don't suppose you cleaned that before using it did you? Eh forget I asked, it's too late now-"

"You are trying my patience. Something which I did not have much to start with." She pulled the scalpel out stabbing it back into his arm a bit lower, "You have one last chance to speak truth before I break out the rest of my tools." Leo slowly turned to look at her, making a scared expression before laughing, he couldn't take this situation seriously in the slightest, "Oh my God... You're a Taurus aren't you?" If this was a cartoon smoke would be rising from her head right about now. She took a breath taking her scalpel back and walking over to one of the tables lining the wall. "Hey do I get a phone call or something? I know this isn't prison but I'm pretty sure I get one right?"

"No."

"What about a meal? It's seriously been like, 18 hours since I last ate and not gonna lie I could really use a pick me up. Are you suuure you don't have coffee here? I mean you can't expect to get any results from a body that's too weak to give anything right?" The was a few moments of silence before she came back with a syringe. Half filled with a near pastel orange liquid. "Oh uh, no thanks, I already take vitamins, and I've got all my shots. And I eat with my mouth so I wont be needed an IV or anything.."

"This isn't a flu shot. It's a truth serum we've been developing to use on spies who sneak into our facilities. This latest batch hasn't been tested yet, you'll be our first subject. Since you love to run your mouth so much, lets see what you know." Leo froze for a moment, he was only worried for a second before letting out a little chuckle. Out of his brothers he was one of the dumbest, he didn't know anything worth while or anything that could help them. This would be fun. The woman injected the liquid with a little smirk, watching as he started reacting to the chemicals. "Let's start again. No jokes, no quips, no antics. What is your name?"

"Bruce Wayne- No- Goddamn it- Its Leo- Leonardo.. H-Hey what's this stuff made of? Can I get your recipe? It's for a friend- That's a lie. It's for me-"

"Leonardo? Interesting. Are you alone here?"

"Is that seriously what you wanna know when you have cameras? Yes. I'm alone."

"Why do you want the GX-27?"

"I need a power source big enough for five cool looking pins- It's for an art project you could say."

"How'd you find out about it?"

"My stupid genius brother found it years ago and kept it on file in case it became useful, he has a bunch of shit like that on file. He built his own computer when he was like 13 out of random junk, he's kind of amazing."

"Years.. Hm. How were you mutated?"

"Mad scientist in a lab used my dad's human DNA and put it in regular turtles, I don't know the specifics, dad never talked about it which I guess cause it was traumatic or whatever-"

"So how many of you are there?"

"That's a really vague question. Are you hearing yourself? How many what? Mutants, teenagers, incredibly handsome ninjas?"

"How many mutants are there?"

"I can't answer that, I have a hard enough time keeping track of all my socks you think I'm actually gonna know the exact number of mutants in the whole world-?"

"You said you have a brother, and father. How many are in.. Your family."

"That depends on what you count as family- Cause I have three brothers, and dad, and the who created us which my one brother counts as a dad so I kind of have two dads? I also have an adopted sister, and an honorary sister who's not related we just hang out a lot, and I have a boyfriend that I'd definitely consider family and he has a father figure but I don't think I wanna count him yet-"

"Fine, Ill just note eight including you. Are they, dangerous?"

"You mean the four ninjas raised by a master ninja and my bounty hunter boyfriend? Noooo, not at all.." She was probably rolling her eyes behind those shades, "If I were to let you go, take off the restraints I mean, what would you do?"

"Easy." Leo smiled, tilting his head to look over at the woman. "I'd kill you, take the battery, and all my stuff, then go home for a good night's sleep. You're exhausting."

"...And how would you kill me hm? the swords you had are being held all the way on the first floor."

"I'm going to tear out your throat with my teeth, and I'm going to eat you." His stomach rumbled at the mention which surprised both of them with the sudden noise. "Are.. You all violent people eaters?" He tried to shrug, "Not usually. No one else I know would ever do something like that, but see I'm a little fucked up. And that, plus being starving, is just asking for trouble. You think you're safe because I'm strapped down, but the second I get an ounce of strength I'm going to break everything in the room starting with you. The thing about our family you really should remember is that we don't stop till we get what we want. And if I have to go through you with nothing but my bare hands I will." The woman sat there for a moment processing the information, then stood up and walked over to on of the cabinets lining the wall, "Well then, Leonardo. Let's ensure you have no chance of that, I'm very excited for this next test. And once we have everything I bet I'll be able to find that family of yours and see how well they hold up in my lab." She smiled a bit to herself as she was looking for something specific, "It's all about endurance, stamina, and pain tolerance." She walked back over to the table with an eerie grin.

"Let's get started shall we?"

-_-_-_- (This indicated a time skip btw, or a switch in perspectives, its a time skip this time. just a few hours in this case) -_-_-_-

There was the harsh sound of metal hitting the floor that rang in the hallway followed by a scream of pain. The top three floors of the building, which held only four stories, had been fully evacuated save for the room Leo was being held in on the top floor. A quick glance into the room and you'd see Leo, laying where he'd been, still strapped to the table with the mystery woman picking up the hammer shed dropped a moment ago. She let out a little laugh as she inspected the tool, "Well would you look at that, no blood. I did hear a crunch that time though, are you bones finally bending?" She laughed again raising the hammer for the fifth time, very intent on finding out how many it would take to break the skin. "Green skin turns such a nice color when blood comes to the surface, don't you think?" There was another loud crack as the hammer came down against his arm that had already been torn into several times by now. Only a few hours had passed but it felt like an eternity on that table. "Ah, here he comes." There was a pause, the faint sound of footsteps getting closer till they suddenly stopped. Then there was a soft knock. "Enter." She called. "Dr. Folter, what did you need?"

"I accidentally crushed his wrist a little much. It happens I suppose when you get carried away, anyway, I would like you to tighten his restraints and keep watch while I go get the vials to collect samples. I won't be long."

"But he's- I mean this thing is-"

"Oh please, he's weak and broken, he knows what waits for him if he tries to escape~" The man huffed and nodded, "Alright, alright fine. Five minutes."

"And no less." She said as she left, the clacking of those stupid heels trailing off down the hall till he couldn't hear a thing. "Does it even speak..?" The man said to himself, slowly taking steps towards the table. Leo glanced at him for a moment then turned away, aside from the blood running down his arm, and the forearm that had been crushed to nothing he looked pretty okay physically.. The man took a deep breath and gently touched the cuff on his intact wrist, nothing happened.. So far it looked safe. Another breath and he tugged on it a little making sure it was tight enough and not cutting off circulation. Seemed okay.. He looked at Leo's face, he looked so tired.. So defeated.. Perfect.

The man rolled his eyes after seeing him in such a harmless state, he felt like he was scared for nothing now. He reached over across the table to the other cuffs on his arm, there were two, one around his wrist and one just below his shoulder. He started to unbuckle the top one to tighten it again. But the moment Leo felt the warmth radiate across his plastron his eyes shot open and he craned his neck as far forward as it would go. Teeth sinking into the humans bicep and forcing their way into skin. The scream sounded almost like a door squeaking, loud and high pitched. It hurt to listen to but he only bit harder till he could feel the muscles separating between his teeth. The man finally managed to pull back, falling to the floor and desperately trying to grab his arm hard enough to stop the bleeding, "W-What the fuck!!? What is wrong with you?!?" Leo chewed for a moment, then swallowed. He licked the blood from his beak with a little smirk, tilting his head enough to see the man scramble away hitting his back against the wall, "I win~" He said softly, starting to chuckle. There was more warmth from the blood that splattered onto Leos chest, not his preferred way of warming up but it'd have to do for now. Leo tilted his head to meet the mans horrified stare, he'd never seen someone look at him that way before... The man pulled himself up with his good arm and with his back to the wall started to limp towards the door. Leo took a deep breath then started pulling against the restraints again. This time the chains holding the straps in place snapped like they were made from sewing strings. The cuffs broke apart as he sat up, and his good hand pulled the ones around his legs off just as easily.

The man was against the door, swiping his card against the reader frantically, but there was a smudge of blood against the barcode. He was muttering and cursing to himself as he kept trying. He desperately tried to wipe it off after noticing the blood, one last swipe and the light above the scanner turned green, he managed a shaky smile and reached for the handle. But froze when a shadow fell over him, he didn't want to turn around, he knew what was waiting.

He turned to look anyway.

From the hallway there was a flash of red that obscured all view into the room, dripping down the doors window and slowly leaking into the hallway. After a few minutes of silence there was another beep of the keycard running through the scanner, then the door opened. Leo stepped out, drenched in red. He looked both ways down the hall and decided the elevator was the best option, he felt bad for not eating all he could, considering he was still pretty hungry.. But he was pretty set on making that Folter lady regret hurting him and threatening the safety of his family. The only real task now was finding her, his swords were on the first floor. He couldn't even hold the second one with his messed up hand.. Now wasn't the time to think about it though, he would just use one for fighting for now, that'd be fine... Maybe along the way he'd be able to find some kind of pain killer or something? Now that was more motivating. He started towards the elevator when he saw the light indicating what floor it was on start moving up, fuck fuck fuck, she was coming back. He took a deep breath, calming his nerves, normally, he really didn't want to kill anyone, even bad people.. But this... It was different wasn't it? She knew about them now, she.. She couldn't be allowed to escape and hurt anyone else.. He had to, it was the only way to keep them all safe. And besides.. His stomach was growling, practically screaming that he needed more, and there was really only one thing that would satisfy that. He knew that, before anything else he knew that.

So why was there still a part of him deep down that felt bad?

Part 14 Part 1

TS Master Post

7 notes · View notes

honey-beann · 11 months

Text

Home (you)

rk brothers (Nines, Connor, Sixty) x Reader

Chapter II - Raining, Then Pouring

Warnings:

Mentions of suicide

General angst

Slight physical violence

Mentions of injury

Nines is a handsy guy

Word count: 4,232

"Are you alright?"

The voice on the other end of the line was strong and steady, but you could hear the underlying fear within it, the sharp tone that always signified panic in the ever familiar youngest Anderson triplet.

Your teeth worried your bottom lip as you suddenly realized that you didn't actually know how to answer that question, and you were only forced out of your thoughts when Nines spoke your name, his tone now just a bit more tense and his words taking on a stern bite to them that you were all too familiar with.

"Yeah I uh... I'm okay I just..."

You trailed off, sputtering slightly in an attempt to find the right words as you shot a glance back towards your bedroom, where your two boys were currently sleeping due to you having deposited them there shortly after Sixty's impromptu arrival.

The door was open a crack so that you would have a better chance of hearing if either of them woke up and needed you, but you felt yourself bristle a bit in discomfort over the fact that they were in there all alone while your attention had to be elsewhere.

"You just what, Trouble?"

Nines asked calmly, his casual use of the nickname that he and his brothers had given you back when you were all just thirteen making you feel slightly less overwhelmed.

Nines was right there on the phone acting the same way he always did, and the world was still turning. You weren't dealing with any of this alone.

"I uh..."

You trailed off once more before allowing your eyes to make their way over to the front door, which was still slightly ajar, allowing the occasional raindrop to make it's way in and splash down onto the tiled floor of your kitchen.

Well, if it was managing to get in here, then how bad was it out there?"

You sighed a bit, running a hand through your hair as you nervously attempted to finally force the words you had been so desperately trying to say past your lips.

"Your brothers here, Nines."

There was silence on the other end of the line for a few moments, and then a few faint yet familiar footfalls told you that Nines was walking somewhere. These footfalls were followed shortly thereafter by some light rustling, though you weren't entirely sure what the cause of that was. And then, finally, the youngest brother spoke up again.

"When did he get there?"

He asked, his tone now lacking that brief calmness it had possessed the last time he'd spoken.

You smiled at his eagerness to get straight to the point, and gave a slight chuckle of amusement into the receiver.

"What, you aren't even gonna ask me which brother I'm talking about?"

You teased lightly, sitting yourself down at the kitchen table in an effort to calm yourself further.

When Nines responded, you could almost hear his eyes rolling, and his tone, while very slightly amused, had that familiar twinge of annoyance that you'd come to know so well over the years.

"You're calling me at 1:37am on a Wednesday morning, I don't have to ask which brother you're talking about."

He said as matter of factly as possible, his attitude making you smile a bit wider despite yourself.

It was far too easy to bother this man for his own good.

You were just about to reply when he spoke up again instead, his words close to as steadfast and firm as could be.

"I'm on my way over now. Would you like me to call Connor so someone can be there with you sooner?"

You nearly rolled your eyes at your friend's constant insistence on babying you, but couldn't help but be endeared by his kindness. How anyone could possibly think this man cruel, you didn't know, though you'd heard it said about him by plenty by coworkers who had known him in the past.

"I'll be alright, he's not even awake."

You answered after a few moments of thought, only to hear Nines give a brief scoff in response,

"And when has that stopped Connor from coming to your rescue before?"

You gave a short laugh at Nines' choice of words, remembering the way that he and Sixty used to tease their eldest brother for constantly trying to be your "prince charming". It was like a competition between the three of them back then, a game of who could be there for you the most, as if that would make one of them your favorite over the other two.

It was different now, but not by much.

"It hasn't, but I was actually talking about Sixty."

You clarified, amusement evident in your tone as Nines gave a slightly surprised sounding hum from the other end of the line.

"He's sleeping?"

"Passed out. Don't worry though, I didn't let him hit his head or anything. I know the drill."

You muttered, hearing Nines sigh discontentedly just as the sound of him starting up his car filled the once silent background of the call.

"Well you shouldn't have to. I'm going to text Connor so he has the option of heading your way if he happens to see the message, but I'll be there in twenty minutes. Call me if Caiden wakes up before I arrive."

You gave a hum in the affirmative, wrapping one of your arms around your body as you looked out the window to see the rain pounding on the pavement of your driveway.

"Yeah I will. Drive safe, okay?"

You tried to hide the anxiety you were feeling to the best of your ability, but must have failed pretty terribly, because the next time that Nines spoke his tone was far gentler than you'd heard it be for the entire night thus far.

"Of course, Trouble. I'll see you soon."

And with that, he hung up, always so eager to avoid saying goodbye that he hardly even bothered to anymore.

He'd told you that none would ever be adequate enough to bother with shortly after Hank had taken his own life, and Nines had done his best to go without saying any ever since. Maybe some part of him believed that if he just didn't say goodbye, then he'd stop losing people so easily.

You sighed and closed your eyes, leaning your head back as you tried not to think about what loss had done to the four of you over the years.

"Ugh, I knew I should've tried harder to get him in here on my own, he's soaked."

You muttered, arms crossed and hugging your body tightly as you watched Nines drag his brother into your house, his forearms underneath Sixty's armpits as he backed himself easily through your front door and off to the side a bit before he laid his brother down on the hard tile of your kitchen.

"I'm sure he was soaked long before he got here. He'll be fine."

Nines reassured you tersely, his tone tense with what you imagined was anger and frustration as he looked down at his older brother with a familiar harshness to his gaze.

You wondered what the first time he'd looked at Sixty like that was.

You hoped this time would be the last.

But you knew it wouldn't.

"Well we can at least put him on the couch or something,"

You began, taking a few hesitant steps closer to the intimidating man and his unconscious brother,

"It isn't right to just leave him on the floor like a dog."

Nines shook his head immediately, squatting down beside his sibling to give him a brief once over for injuries as he spoke.

"Just like you said before, he's soaked. It'll ruin the fabric."

Adequately convinced that Sixty was without any severe injuries, Nines stood, looking you in the eye for the first time since his arrival a few minutes prior.

"Besides, he's not nearly far enough off from a dog to be worth the effort."

You rolled your eyes a bit at the familiar man's dramatics, knowing all too well just how fond he was of dogs when he wasn't too angry at his brother to care about the double meaning his words took on.

"Whatever you say."

You muttered, shrugging the disagreement off easily. You didn't have it in you to argue tonight, not after everything that had happened.

You stood from where you were seated, taking a few steps across the room to lock the front door, only to wince a bit on your first step back towards the table afterward, a movement that instantly caught Nines' attention.

"You're hurt."

He stated easily, his arms uncrossing as he reached out to take your shoulders and guide you gently back into the chair you had previously been sitting in at your kitchen table, his gaze intense as he stared down at you once you finished getting comfortable.

"What happened?"

You shrugged nonchalantly, feeling heat rise to your cheeks as you slid your foot out of your slipper, frowning slightly at the sight of the bruise that had begun to form on top of it.

"Something had to cushion that ridiculously big head of his."

You muttered, avoiding Nines' gaze as you gestured toward his still unconscious brother, who looked rather peaceful in spite of how he had gotten to where he was now.

Nines sighed in response to your answer, but accepted it nonetheless, kneeling down before you and gently lifting your foot by the ankle to get a better look at it.

You watched him for a few moments, taking in the sharpness of his jaw and counting the barely noticeable freckles that adorned his nose and cheeks as he inspected your injury far more thoroughly than he had bothered to with Sixty's.

When he finally looked up to meet your gaze after a little while of this, you didn't look away despite how obviously you'd been staring, instead choosing to tilt your head slightly as Nines began wordlessly using one of his hands to run the pads of his fingers across the skin of your ankle. With his other hand, he moved upward, gripping your calf loosely and caressing the skin in that area as well as his eyes bore holes into you, the feeling of his skin touching yours making you shudder slightly, something you were sure he took notice of.

Eventually, without stopping his gentle exploration of your ankle and calf, he looked back down to your foot, humming softly as he examined it further.

"It's just a bruise."

He said quietly, eyes flickering back up to your own,

"It looks like it'll be sore for a few days at least, but it should heal just fine on its own."

You nodded at his words, eyes never leaving his as you reached for the hand that was moving slowly up and down your calf, as if he were worshiping the very feeling of your warm body beneath his soft palm and slightly calloused fingertips.

Nines stopped all of his gentle movements immediately, remaining still as you moved his hand from your calf up to your face, pressing your cheek against it and smiling at the familiar feeling of his thumb stroking slowly along the skin there, as if he were trying to memorize every detail.

You relished in this sensation for a few minutes before reaching down to palm his cheek within your own hand, smiling softly at the way his shoulders visibly relaxed at your touch.

At that, you leaned forward, pressing your forehead against his as you moved to take his other hand in your own, squeezing it softly.

It had been a few weeks since the two of you had last been alone together, always with the kids or Connor, and even though Sixty was so close by, you couldn't help but take a moment to appreciate Nines' presence.

"I love you, you know."

You said matter of factly, a taunting lilt to your tone that you were sure would have Nines rolling his eyes if only they were open.

He pulled away gently, removing his hand from your own in order to place it atop the one that was on his face, allowing him to move it away as he continued to stroke your cheek with his thumb.

"I have absolutely no idea how or why."

His words seemed more for himself than you, murmured so softly you could scarcely hear them, but even so you felt the need to respond nonetheless.

"Because you deserve it. I don't know what I would do without you."

Nines chuckled humorlessly, though his tone was still kind as he spoke,

"Probably call my eldest brother even more often than you already do."

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes, and you did so with pleasure upon hearing his words.

"Oh shut it. No one triplet could ever replace either of the others. You know I love all three of you."

Nines hummed at your familiar adage, that humorless chuckle of his coming back with a vengeance once more.

"And that is the most confusing thing of all."

Nines countered, moving his hand up to play with some of the hair near your forehead before he brushed it all backward and away, standing up while remaining bent at the waist as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, a slightly amused twinkle evident in his eye as he did so.

"How you could love not one, but three disastrously broken and undeserving men is a wonder beyond me."

His voice now contained that same teasing lilt you had used against him before, only you didn't find his words nearly as amusing as he appeared to.

Still, you allowed him to continue, following him up as he straightened out, soon finding yourself turning with your back to the table as he moved the chair away and stood where it had once been

"We won't ever be worth all of the unrest that we cause."

He muttered quietly, his hands moving to your hips and briefly remaining there for a few moments before he gently lifted you up and placed you atop the table, no doubt in an effort to get you to stop standing on your freshly bruised foot.

Always so observant and considerate of your needs, and yet still blind to all of the good you saw within him and his brothers.

You frowned at his words, finally opening your mouth to correct him when you noticed the way his gaze was trailing over your body, eyes flitting down to the hem of your oversized shirt, one of Connor's from his trainee days, as it grazed your upper thighs, before allowing said gaze to move upward to rest upon your lips, until finally he was looking you in the eyes once more.

You felt your breath halt at the emotions you found within your shared eye contact, noting the anguish, fear, anger, and hunger present all within that one look.

Nines was always holding himself back, never moving forward quite as fast as his brothers did, especially not within the past few years, but even so, you never failed to know exactly what he wanted.

"You can kiss me, you know."

You whispered, voice steady and devoid of any and all hesitance as you spoke.

"You don't have to do this to yourself."

You felt Nines shudder in response to your words before his hand moved to tilt your chin upward slightly, his eyes moving over every inch of your face as if he were committing each detail to memory.

Eventually though, after what felt like ages of waiting on your end, he began to lean in slowly, until he was so close that you could feel his breath fanning familiarly against your lips.

It had been so long since he'd last given in and let himself feel loved, several months at least, and you fought off the urge to wriggle anxiously in anticipation as you placed your hands upon his shoulders, eventually moving both of them forward until your arms were looped around his neck.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, silent save for the sounds of slightly heavy breathing, until finally Nines shook his head, as if he were in disbelief.

He pressed his forehead to yours once more.

"I'm sorry."

And with that, his mouth was on yours, gentle and coaxing and so incredibly soft as he moved one of his hands to the back of your head, cradling it as you leaned back and pressed your torso firmly against his own, one of your hands moving to palm his cheek again as you did so.

You had no idea how long that kiss lasted, but what you did know was that when it finally reached its end, it was because of the keening cry that came from the other room, instantly forcing the two of you apart.

Your breaths came slightly heavier as you looked up at your friend, cheeks dusted a light pink and lips subtly bruised.

"Shit."

You muttered under your breath, placing your hands on either side of you to push yourself off of the table only to be stopped by Nines, who simply quirked his brow, shook his head and leaned down to press one final kiss against your lips before he pulled away slightly and allowed your noses to brush up against one another briefly as he spoke,

"You deserve so much better than even all three of us combined, Trouble."

And with that, he moved away from you entirely, taking long and practiced steps down the hallway heading towards your bedroom.

The crying stopped just seconds afterward, flooding your home with a brief, but overall welcomed silence.

That is, until a voice spoke up from your left,

"He really is good with them, huh?"

You jumped slightly, giving a light squeak of surprise as you pressed a hand against your fluttering chest, as if trying to physically force your heart to slow down.

Sixty, clearly no longer unconscious, was now sitting up on your floor, hands slightly behind him as he propped himself up in order to see down the hallway that his younger brother had just walked through.

It was only then that you registered his previous question and began nodding slowly as you also looked off into the hallway.

"Yeah, he really is. Connor too."

You muttered, wrapping your arms around your torso as you tried not to think too hard about just who you were talking to in that moment.

Sixty chuckled from his spot on the floor beside you, and you just barely resisted the urge to look over to see if his smile looked the same way it had the last time you saw him.

As beautiful and brilliant as ever.

"Well of course Con is good with them, no one ever thought he wouldn't be. Nines on the other hand? I don't think anyone ever thought he'd be interested in the whole family thing."

At that, you turned to face your ex fiance, arms still wrapped protectively around yourself as you looked him directly in the eye intentionally for the first time all night.

"And what about you?"

You asked softly, unable to stop yourself despite knowing what little good that question would do you.

"Me?"

Sixty asked, the chuckle that left him this time around just as humorless as Nines' had been earlier on.

"I think I ended up exactly the way that everyone thought I would."

His expression remained joyful as he spoke, but you could see the anger and pain in his eyes in spite of that, and you felt yourself reaching out to him unconsciously.

"Si-"

"Caiden."

Nines' voice far outmatched yours in volume, and you immediately turned to face him, your hand pressed firmly against your chest once more at what felt like the one millionth sudden intrusion of the night.

However, because of this change in your focus, you never noticed the way that Sixty's gaze neglected to move away from you, not even for a second for most of the time that his brother was speaking.

Nines, on the other hand, was all too aware of this, and was glaring daggers at him even as he continued to talk, the baby on his hip a stark contrast to him as he giggled and cooed contently.

"Do you have any good reason for being here right now?"

Nines questioned, watching as his brother shrugged, his gaze still unmoving even as he replied.

"Not really."

Nines rolled his eyes, scoffing slightly,

"So you just came here in the middle of the night to disturb your friend and her children?"

He asked, his tone venomous.

It was this question that finally got Sixty to look at him, anger evident in his eyes.

"Excuse you, asshole, but that 'friend' is my fiancee, and last I checked those kids are mine too."

He all but growled out, hands clenched into fists as he continued to lean back on them, his upper body just mere inches off of the floor, as if moving forward any further would've taken too much effort or caused him some great pain.

Nines broke out into harsh laughter,

"Oh but is she? Are they?"

He asked, his voice raised as loud as he could manage without disturbing Finley, who was now distracting himself with the buttons on his uncle's shirt.

Sixty glared daggers at his brother, sitting up further upon hearing his words, as if it would make the venom he was about to spit at him more impactful.

"Well she damn well isn't yours, and neither are the kids, are they Nines?!"

He shouted, and you watched as the look in his brother's eyes changed from anger to hurt to hatred in seconds, matching those of his older sibling in all but color.

Sixty seemed to see this too and immediately began laughing cruelly, the smirk on his face so large it was impossible to ignore

"Fuck, that really bothers you doesn't it? You hate that I actually got to say she was mine, and you can't fucking stand the fact that both of those boys are mine too."

Sixty paused to chuckle darkly, and you honestly thought for a moment or two that he was wise enough to stop there after seeing the rage in Nines' expression, but then he just kept going.

"Aww is someone mad because he wanted to be the one to put a ring on her finger and fuck his kids into her? Can you not fucking stand it when you look into Atlas' and Finley's eyes and see me instead of you?"

He paused to cough into his fist, groaning slightly afterward, though that borderline malicious grin never once left his face as he did so.

"Well guess what dip shit, there's nothing you can ever do to change it!"

He continued after a few moments, his eyes burning with a type of rage you hadn't seen him experience since childhood.

But if his eyes were scary, than Nines' were petrifying, slowly filling with this cloudy haze that you were sure couldn't be good.

"You weren't fucking perfect enough, she didn't fucking choose you, and no matter where you go or what you do you'll never be able to change that fact. Those kids are better off with her and her alone and you fucking know it!"

At that, Nines let out a low growl, gently handing you your son before taking two long strides toward his older brother and reaching down to grab him by the front of his shirt, yanking upward until Sixty was sitting fully upright, causing the man to visibly wince as Nines spoke cruelly and clearly, his voice never once faltering.

"No Caiden, that's just what you tell yourself at night so you don't have to admit out loud that it isn't the rest of us that they're better off without, it's just you."

Sixty immediately swung his right fist up towards his brother in response to his venomous statement, but Nines easily grabbed hold of it, forcing it back down to his side as he glared heavily into his eyes.

You held your son close to your chest, watching on in horror until finally, the heavy hate-filled silence was too much, and you opened your mouth to beg them to stop.

Just as you did though, there was the sound of a key entering a lock, and then the door swung open, revealing Connor, whose eyes immediately widened as he took in the sight before him.

You thought he was just going to tell them that they needed to stop the way he used to when this sort of thing would happen, but instead when he opened his mouth to speak, he said something different entirely.

"What the hell did you do?!"

He asked urgently, rushing over to wrestle his youngest brother off of the other before he cursed and pressed his hand against Sixty's side, which you could now see was bleeding profusely, staining his gray t shirt a sickening shade of dark red.

Connor then turned his attention towards you, his expression apologetic and pained as he spoke,

"Sweetheart, I need you to call 9-1-1 for me right now."

masterlist

AO3

#dbh x reader #rk boys x reader #rk brothers x reader #nines x reader #connor x reader #sixty x reader #c: nines #c: connor #prompt requests #c: sixty #dbh angst #g: home (you)

34 notes · View notes