#other side that people are going to bring

[loving-august]

can i tie a ribbon around your biceps?

pairings. bakugou katsuki x fem!reader

genre. all fluff

links. navigation | masterlist

notes. Midterms is coming close and instead of studying, my mind popped an idea after the IG reel I saw months ago :))

You waited.

You waited for this moment to come.

Not that you are nervous around katsuki, goodness no. It's just, Katsuki has a knack of snarky remarks whenever you have something to do to him. And most of the time, he's busy with his job. Saving people from day to night was part of his daily routine. He’s the number 2 hero, of course. Although he’s not the actual number one hero, your words of praise kept him going. He’ll tease you for a sap. But he’s thankful enough with you staying by his side even during his worst and best times.

You waited for him from the living room as you lay down on the couch, scrolling with your phone. Soon, a sound came from outside. The sound of heavy boots and the sound of the key from the main door, indicates that he’s home. He always tells you to lock the main door even if you are still in the shared apartment with him, he cannot let any danger come to you.

The door opened, revealing your boyfriend in all his glory. He was wearing his black t-shirt, with his hero costume underneath and he was holding a briefcase with his gauntlets inside.

“I'm home.” he announced.

You rose from the couch and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. “Welcome home, katsuki, have you eaten yet? I have leftovers. Your mom gave me food for the both of us.”

Katsuki grumbled, and he silently placed his things at the corner of the living room. The sound of his home slippers came closer to you as he inspected the food inside the Tupperware. “What did she bring?” He asked.

You let out a sly smile. “My favourite."

“Ha? That's the third time she gave us,” he went closer to the kitchen counter and took the Tupperware.

“Are you jealous?”

“hell no.”

You laughed at his reply. It is true that this was the third time that Mitsuki sent your favorite food whenever she dropped by the apartment.

Katsuki silently washed his hands as you prepared his food. After preparing, katsuki sat down and you sat down oppositely to him, giving the heart eyes to look at him.

“you're so handsome. Did I tell you that?” You started.

Before he took a bite, he looked at you with his eyebrow raised at you. “Don't beat around the bush. What do you want?”

He knows when you want something or him to do something. It's always that look you give him.

“Oh, you know… the ribbon thing with your biceps. Can I tie a ribbon around your biceps?” You popped the question.

“Headlock wasn't enough for ya? Such a greedy girl,”

“Come on! Wrapping a ribbon around your biceps is cute! But it would be hotter if you flexed your muscles and the ribbon would just snap, pretty please?”

He was speechless. Just how are you desperate to do that?

“Fine. But you're washing the dishes until tomorrow night.”

“I accept!”

You hurriedly left the dining table and went to your shared room. You quickly look for the ribbon inside the drawers of your closet. When you left the table, he let out a light chuckle.

“So fucking cute..” he said to himself.

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED !!

© 2024 loving-august. All Rights Reserved. Do not repost. Do not plagiarize. Do not share on other platforms. Will get slapped if u do.

[ajortga]

home

pairing: jenna ortega x fem reader

summary: nothing feels more than home to jenna than you.

word count: 800+ (drabble)

a/n: wanted to get this out there as a thank you, we reached 400 followers! words actually cannot describe how grateful i am that people appreciate the stories i write. i really hope they can make your day<3.

hey alexa, play home by edith whiskers.

You yearn to feel the sense of hope and comfort.

Home.

Not the home that shields Jenna as she sleeps, a roof over her head.

But at the same time, it is that.

Not the home that she wakes up in everyday when she wakes up for breakfast, the aroma of her mom’s cooking fills the air,

The TV turned on, her older and younger siblings playing in the living room. 

Not the home that holds her, her yorkie terrier and her family.

Or the home that shakes as Aliyah and her jump on the bed with Cash.

No, not that.

Home.

As much as she loved her family, nothing could compare to you, no one.

Jenna could remember her words as she strummed her guitar, a gentle hum filling her room.

“Alabama Arkansas, I do love my ma and pa, not the way that I do love you.’

The only home she’ll be the first to run to when she has news.

“We laugh until we think we'll die, barefoot on a summer night”

As Jenna strums to her whistling, she remembers running across the sandy coast with the palette of the sunset around you. Shades of orange, yellow, pink, and baby blue hues. Holding hands with you as you two laugh and run with each other barefoot during the summer. The sweetest memory she’s ever experienced. A moment that she never felt could be better. If she could go back to one memory before she died, she’d choose that one. With you, cupping your cheeks as you two kiss as dawn was welcomed, during her favorite season of the year.

Giggling as you both collapse on the sunlit meadow on a warm summer night, bodies wrapped around each other.

“Nothing is sweeter than with you.”

Oh you were everything to her, her best friend, girlfriend, soulmate, universe.

-

When Jenna’s boyfriend broke up with her, she sobbed on her pillow, she never told you when you came over that she pretended that it was you.

She didn’t know why it might’ve helped, it’s warmth reminding her of you, it made her hug it tighter.

“La-la-la-la-la take me home”

That day Jenna’s heart was shattered, you were the one to bring it back together, her sobbing in your warm arms as you comforted her, your hands scratching her scalp in the perfect way.

You told her she could stay over, she sobbed in your arms, fell asleep as soon as her body reached your arms, melting in your presence.

The next day you made her her favorite heart shaped nutella pancakes that she always asked for when she sleeps over at your house, she knew that whenever you made her it, it was always sweeter when you made it. 

She closes her eyes and remembers it, all too vividly. A smile comes across Jenna's face as she changes the chords, her fingers strumming again.

"Girl I never loved one like you."

Even if someone were to take every single step of your recipe and memorize the grains of salt and sugar you used, it was never the same, she knows your baking by heart. 

Drives in your jeep as you two interlock hands. Travels all over the world, shares of gelato ice cream and sweet moments. 

Deep gazes into eyes as a blanket wraps around the both of you. A soft kiss planted on your forehead as you fall asleep on her chest with the campfire crackling in front of you. 

She remembered when she first realized she loved you.

To have you first in her mind when she wanted to spend time with someone. Craving your cookies, your time spent together, those soft lips she always looked at as you talked.

To have someone listen to her strumming the guitar, to have them admire her voice and closed off side. Her little Y/N on her shoulder. To be so in love that she wrote this song for you.

You loved her.

Her freckles you counted as you’re curled up by her side, her soft hands. Her.

Your first encounter, meeting her on set and immediately feeling you two click.

Your first date together, when she accidentally spilled a coffee on your white shirt and you busted out laughing.

Your first kiss.

When she asked you to be your girlfriend, officially. You wanted to be with her forever. 

Jenna was the first person in your life to calm your storm down. You were the person who struggled falling asleep, it didn’t happen easily, but in her arms, it did. You were always gone as soon as she pressed your nose into her neck.

You were each others homes, you wanted to stay with her, to always be assured by her.

As the song comes to a close, she looks up at the polaroid picture of you two. The orange hue from the salt lamp the only source of light. Polaroids hung of you and her all across her string of fairy lights. Her walls were filled with her girlfriend. And as her fingers pluck the strings, Jenna smiles faintly. The song nears the end as she sings the last of the lyrics.

"Oh, home, let me come home Home is wherever I'm with you"

-

i love this song sm it's crazy.

[chrisdr3]

"Ignorant" ~ OP81

Fluff

Oscar x Introvert!Reader

Summary: Y/n gets hateful comments about her appearance and for being "ignorant", whilst Oscar tries to understand what's going on with her feelings.

You never really liked to talk much, you always were shy and tended to hide your emotions. You were more on the introverted side, like Oscar. When you were together, Oscar did most of the talking, especially when you were infront of fans, reporters and team members unknown to you.

That's the main reason the hate started. Most of it, at least. Every day, you were recieving hateful messages and comments on your social media. Everywhere you went, several fans that recognised you said things about you. Because of that, you started staying at home and you stopped posting stuff on your social. The worst part is that you distanced yourself slowly from relatives and friends.

At the last few races, you went on McLaren's hospitality from the back, avoiding fans as much as you could and avoided places of the garage that had cameras and media. You took your headset and hid in lonely corners or in Oscar's driver room, where nobody could reach you, and stayed there, sometimes crying and others just sitting and thinking. Feeling hideous and snub.

As the time passed, you started distancing yourself from Oscar slowly, thinking he hated you just like the "fans". He wasn't talking much either, so that's what you thought. You didn't really hug or cuddle him, you ate and showered alone, you spent hours locked up in your office room, reading books, and didn't sleep well at night, staring at the ceiling, trying not to cry. Long story short, you started avoiding him, too.

The fist days, Oscar thought you had to study for uni. Then a week passed and Oscar started to get worried. He wanted to help you, he wanted to talk to you, to find what's going on. He was cooking your favourite meals, bringing them to your door, tried to understand if you had a certain time of going out to shower, but you didn't.

One day, he checked your social media, just in case he found why were you acting like that. He checked them that same afternoon he came up with the idea and scrolled through your accounts, every comment he saw made him even angrier. He then posted something in response.

"I've repeatedly seen hateful actions and comments about Y/n and I want people to know that she's not ignorant or rude, she's an introverted person. So, I'm requesting from everyone to respect her. If there are still people out there, still hating on her through internet or irl, they'll stop being considered "fans" by me and will be reported. Thank you." That's what the post said.

He then waited till you got out to shower and stranded waiting in the doorframe if the closed bathroom door. When you got out, he moved infront of you and pulled you into a warm, bone crushing hug. "Why are you so distant lately, sweetheart?"

Tears escaped from your eyes, and you cried silently in Oscar's arms, staining his shirt with them. He didn't move, he rubbed your back gently. "That's it, let it out princess." You continued crying till you hadn't any more tears to shed, holding the towel around your body tightly, afraid it will fall.

Oscar cupped your face and kissed your forehead. "It's okay baby, I'm here for you." He whispered. "Talk to me, what took you away from me?" You looked at him, your face tear stained, sad. "Promise n-not to get angry?" You mumbled. "Of course, I can't get angry that easily, especially from you." He replied, caressing your hair.

You didn't leave his arms, snuggled in their warmth instead. "D-do you hate me?" You mumbled, looking at your feet. "Why would I hate you baby?" He responded, not getting his arms off you. "Because I'm"ignorant" and "rude" and "snub"." Oscar looked at you and smiled sadly. "It's the comments, huh?" You raised your head, a questioning expression in your face.

"I know about the hate you get. I saw it on your social and you don't know how many rime "fans" talked to me of to other people about you when in races or downtown." He explained, ruffling yor hair. "Oh..."

"I'm here for you baby, I know you are shy and stuff but I believe in you. You can ignore them and you have the words to confront them." He smiled. "Can you try that? For me?" "I'll try..." You whispered. "Thanks, sweetheart." You kissed his cheek, adjusting your towel. Oscar noticed, he then grabbed your hand and led you to your shared bedroom. "Let's get you dressed, princess."

Taglist: @pinkswaet @dilemmaontwolegs @changetyre @thef1diary @f1driverszona

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

141 Headcanons: On Holiday

John Price is 100% a dad type. He likes golfing and fishing and sailing. Activities that let him unwind, sometimes make new friends in the shape of other middle-aged men at the country club or at the docks or at the lake. Rents a little cabin by the lake, where you can take a soak or sunbathe, while he goes out with his little fishing boat and try (and fail) to catch something nice for dinner.

Johnny MacTavish is an adventurous type. He likes hiking and camping, stuff that lets him stay busy, and will definitely explore some forest or national park or mountain range. But he also likes fun activities. Music festivals, for example. He'll definitely book you all-inclusive 3-day-long tickets even though there's only one or two artists/bands you want to see, just so you can have that experience and have fun together.

Kyle Garrick is a family lad. His family is big and loving and they book a little trip every year somewhere fun. It might be a new destination, or it might be somewhere they've been before, or maybe somewhere to visit family. But he loves bringing his love along, go do all the touristy things, see all the landmarks, take loads of pictures, try new restaurants and new food, and do cultural things like reading all the plaques on statues and fountains and monuments.

Simon Riley likes peace and quiet. That's the jist of it. Needs it, in fact. So, prepare to rent a little historical cottage in the Cotswold, or maybe a beach condo, or a cabin in the woods. Doesn't matter, what matters it's that it's fairly isolated, with no neighbors to really bother him. He can sleep in late, with no one to force him to do things he doesn't want to do, no schedule to uphold, no people to answer to. He'll roll out of bed at noon, make himself tea and go sit outside and feell the breeze on his skin for once.

Crack headcanons: Beach Day Episode™️

John Price tends to burn, instead of tan, surprisingly. Probably because his uniforms tend to cover him from neck to toes, leaving only his hands and face showing... And if you'd expect his face to be immune to burning, you'd be wrong. Especially because he's terrible at applying sunblock. By the time you notice, his cheeks, nose and forehead are red, and there are white lines around his muttonchops/beard where the sunblock didn't absorb... so he just looks ridiculous.

Johnny MacTavish likes to say he's not English/British... until he goes on holiday to southern Europe and he's suddenly the perfect example of the stereotypical English tourist. Football jersey, denim shorts, socks and slides/sandals, his entire skin is burned to a crisp and red, and, of course, he's wearing the most stupid-looking sunglasses you'll ever see... And then he gets to the beach, takes off his shorts and he's wearing a red speedo.

Kyle Garrick is 100% the type to disappear off his towel while you're sunbathing and, by the time you notice, he's in a completely different side of the beach playing beach paddle ball, beach volleyball or beach football with a group of other blokes or even with little kids. And he does all this while wearing his little cap (but backwards) and while absolutely covered in tanning oil. Does he need it? No. But he likes the feel of it.

Simon Riley would not be caught dead in swimming trunks or a speedo. The man needs full coverage. He's in a wet/surf suit and wearing a facekini WITH his stupid dad sunglasses and, maybe even, a visor. He gets fidgety if he has to sit in his towel for too long so he's also the type who'll go for a walk out of nowhere, down the beach, and, eventually, cross paths with an Asian grandma who's wearing the same exact outfit as him.

[mimixmunson]

I have a habbit of messing up peoples names, ive called my mom my brothers name. Sometimes ill start with someone elses name and correct myself like sara-mily or i get it early so its just the first letter like saying ch-steve

I was just thinking about bestfriends eddie x reader where reader accidentally calls eddie daddy because theyre so similar. She goes to say a d name but catches herself and says eddie. She was talking fast and didnt even catch herself saying it until eddies like "did you just call me daddy?"

Accidentally calling Eddie ‘Daddy’. Eddie Munson x female reader. Blurb. Fluff.

I hope this is okay, I’m sick at the moment so it’s kinda self indulgent but I tried to personalise it a bit for you!

The night was like any other of yours and Eddie’s movie nights. Bags of candy spilled out on the floor, blankets swallowing you both up and a blunt being passed between you. Today was tiring, work couldn’t be more stressful and of course you were understaffed. Eddie came to pick you up at closing time, he already had your cup of tea in his cup-holder. It was the small things you appreciated the most from your best friend.

You had your head on his chest, because Eddie said “it will help your migraine I promise.” You wanted to believe him but the smirk on his face just showed he wanted to look after you. Eddie held his palm to your forehead, “you’re burning up a little, I’ll get you some medicine. Wait right here.” He ushers himself out from the blankets and into the kitchen. Rooting through the cupboards as you pause the movie, he reappears holding a bottle and a medicine spoon. Pouring the contents onto the spoon, “open up darling” he smirks as he feeds you.

You wince at the taste of the bitter medicine, swiftly taking a swig of your soda to wash away the taste. Wiping your mouth you whisper, “thank you d-daddy” “e-Eddie I meant Eddie!!” Your face flushes immediately, wanting the ground to swallow you up as you blurt out your sentence. Your brain was on auto pilot and Eddie and Daddy sounded far too similar for your mouth to comprehend whilst you’re suffering so bad with your migraine.

“What was that? Did you just call me daddy?” Eddie smirks, teasing you as he pulls your hands away from your blushing face.

“I- no! The words got scrambled in my head m’sorry I’m so embarrassed, I’m sorry.” You pull away from Eddie’s touch, bringing your knees to your chest and resting your head on them. Terrified that you’ve ruined your friendship, how could Eddie not see you differently after calling him that? A word so not-inherently bad but turned kinky and shameful, he could assume you’re into that. Not that it would be a bad thing to be kinky, you just weren’t.

“Hey hey hey.” Eddie pulls at your arms, “just look at me.” His voice is like velvet, so comforting but you’re shaking. Wishing you could be ignorant and never face this issue. “Come on princess, just want to see you smile.” You can almost hear the smirk in his voice.

You stick to your guns, refusing to move and face him. “You leave me no choice then, I didn’t want to do this sweetheart. But you asked for this..” Eddie coos into your ear before teasing his fingers over your neck, ghosting over your skin and down to your sides. He pokes and prods your ribs, flailing back into Eddie’s chest, trying to swat at his hands to put an end to his ticklish assault.

“Okay! Okay!” You plead, holding on to Eddie’s wrists and looking deep into his eyes. He stills his hands, holding yours and dropping them into his lap. “I didn’t mean to say it Eddie, honestly.” Your voice stuttering as you whimpered. “It’s not a big deal. Seriously, I understand. You do that a lot with words, I’ve seen it. You’re okay. It’s okay. We’re okay.” A mischievous smile spreads over his face when he sees you let go of the breath you’ve been holding for the entire moment. Sighing, you let yourself smile, feeling safe knowing that Eddie doesn’t judge you.

“There’s that smile. Gotta hear that laugh too, you know, for daddy?” He teases before jumping on top of you and tickling you again.

[with-my-murder-flute]

Cristabel and the proverbial sandwich

(Spoilers for Harrow and Nona the Ninth)

I have not known inner peace since I saw someone say, "But come on, does anyone ACTUALLY buy John's story about how the nun died?"

Because honestly, I'd just kind of gone, "Super random, very weird interaction, boy there sure are cult mindworms at play here," and moved on to the next page.

But as soon as I saw that question asked, the amount I did not buy that story hit me like a load of bricks, to the point I'm kind of amazed that I ever did believe it.

Two people. A locked door. A nuclear standoff. A close-range head injury.

On one side, a full-fledged Catholic nun—well done, that’s the classic—who's best friends with a staunchly atheist world-class scientist and believes, if we're to believe John, that Jesus's problem is that he didn't stick to office hours.

On the other, a woman described as, "A total delight. Effervescent. Kind to animals and children. A master of the sword. Did not have the intellect you’d ordinarily find in a sandwich or an orange, and was a sickening twerp into the bargain."

Oh, and in the middle, there's also a necromancer who wants to bring back his friends... minus any little details about things he they might have done wrong. He "knows where memory lives in the brain", and they "won't have any of it." And "guys as careful as me don't make mistakes," but then again, all that means is that if he kills someone, he did it on purpose.

C— talks her way into a locked room with John, who's on the phone threatening some world leaders with a nuke, expresses care and concern for him, and then... decides he needs more data on the soul? And kills herself to provide that for him?

I'll be honest, I just don't believe that John was an ordinary guy, totally normal, could be any of us, and he just got put in a really stressful situation and made some bad choices but who HASN'T done things they aren't proud of??? I reject that point of view completely. Like, Elon Musk in any given interaction probably is really stressed out and unhappy and having trouble responding in a way that's at all well-considered or emotionally mature, but that doesn't mean that Musk isn't also, at baseline, a deeply stupid, petty, immature, grandiose, entitled, egocentric person. No matter what situation you put him in, he's going to keep on being those things.

I think that John's initial idea was to put the entire human population of Earth, minus some necessary staff, into some giant cryonic freezers, and give the Earth some amount of time to rest and recover from the effects of human-caused pollution. A plan about which I will confess some hesitation myself; being told "just lie down in this coffin, bro, you'll only be a little dead, I'll totally bring you back to life* in a couple centuries (*98% effective!) " does not fill me with an enthusiasm to hop on board.

And then his project got cut. And he decided, "Well, if they won't agree, I can just make them agree." After all, all that end game needs is 10 billion frozen corpses hanging out in those tin cans, and a small team of staff left to keep the place running. How it gets there is something he can afford to be flexible about. If people won't climb in on their own, he can put them there.

So when C— or the nun tell him to stop focusing on revenge, to bend all his energies to saving the world, I think he thinks: Well, I am. He's gonna wash the earth clean at the end of this! He just needs to be able to set the dominoes in motion. He just needs to engineer a situation that will justify taking his nuke out of the vault and making the pieces fall.

A situation that would be sabotaged, ruined, if anyone made a true deep sincere good-faith effort to talk him out of Plan Nuke and called the legitimacy of this crisis into any sort of question. He needs to prevent that from happening.

Actually. Also. He needs one more thing than that.

He needs an excuse to use the nuke, but also, he's finishing his homework at the very last minute. He still hasn't mastered the soul. He does need a few more test subjects.

Maybe he let her in and thought: Two birds with one stone, eh?

[squirmhoney]

aegon finding his niece naked in his uni dorm ready to seduce him because she heard a rumor that he has a girlfriend or something and reader does not like that at all and needs to remind him who he belongs to!!!!

Warnings: Obsessed reader. Incest. Anal play. A lot of smut. Overstimulation. Slight angst 18+ A/N: I hope you like this, I have also see your other ideas and love all of them. Currently halfway through the secretary x Aegon one which is defo my favourite one, I can’t lie ❤️

-

Niece!reader who can’t help but feel like you’re being strung along as you sip from your red solo cup. Your gaze darkening as you watch him smile at some random girl that his friends had pushed on him. You can’t help but grow jealous, not even paying attention to the guy trying desperately hard to get flirt with you. All that you can do is stand and stare, eyes watering until you feel so sick that you have to look away.

Niece!reader not knowing what else to do as you go to Aegon’s dorm, knowing you couldn’t just storm and claim him in front of everyone. You decide to just strip yourself of your clothes, sitting on your bed as you wait for him.

Niece!reader who’s literally in Aegon’s favourite lace thong when he gets in but he’s too busy panicking and stopping his frat friends from walking in to notice. He’s making up an excuse as he pushes them out the door, waiting a good few minutes after the door has shut before he turns to you. But he gets from the sad pout and the way you’re scrunching your face up, that you’re desperately trying hard not to cry. He knows not to question your intentions or get mad at you, only cupping your face as he brings his soft lips to the top of your head.

Niece!reader who is quick to question Aegon, accusing him of bringing another girl back or doing more with her then just talking. But he’s insistent he wasn’t, being honest and telling you that he was just being nice out of courtesy and the only people that came home with him were a few fat friends he was going to hang out with.

Niece!reader who tells Aegon he needs to make it up to you with a wicked smile, laying back on the bed as you open your legs. He’s so eager as he climbs on top of you, sucking at the skin that he kisses, leaving sloppy wet marks all over your skin. It’s not till he reaches your nipple he decides to give it a slight nibble, chuckling at the way you whine and buck your hips into him. He’s telling you to be patient as he presses your back down.

Niece!reader who can’t help but wrap your thighs around his head when he eats you out. you enjoy playing with his curls, twirling him around your fingers as you moan lowly. Aegon enjoys it all too, groaning at the taste of you as he sucks and licks to his pleasure, making a meal out of you as he brings you to your first orgasm of the night.

Niece!reader who wants to show Aegon that he’ll never find anyone better, sliding onto his cock with a deep moan from his lips. you take control completely, bouncing up and down on him just the way you know he likes it, tits in his face as you begs for his cum.

Niece!reader who grows tired after a while and lets Aegon takeover, being flipped over on all floors as he pushes your face into the mattress. He teases you telling you that you’re being too loud as he slams into your back side, making you drool into the pillow in front of you as you desperately try to keep your noise to a minimum. But he was only just joking even if he doesn’t want to say anything, so to get you to start screaming again he starts to toy with your asshole, using your slick to press his thumb inside your tight hole.

Niece!reader who becomes a whimpering mess when Aegon has you in mating press. Both of you a sweaty mess as he fucks his messy ropes of cum into your hole, you start to whine about how you can’t take it anymore but he’s not having any of it, telling your this is what you wanted. You can’t deny how sensitive you are at this point and you’re sure you might pass out if you have another orgasm.

Niece!reader who’s breathing finally settles when Aegon cleans you up with a towel, making sure to be gentle as wipes the load of cum dripping from your cunt. You're both sure that if you hadn’t been on contraception that you would have been pregnant by now because clearly Aegon didn’t know anything about pulling out.

Niece!reader who’s ducks underneath the blankets when Aegon gets a knock on the door, making sure no one can see it’s you as his neighbour asks him to keep the noise down. Aegon is polite, giving them a curt nod before closing the door and returning to the bed with you. He teases you about it as he wraps his arms around you, telling you that you really need to learn to be quieter otherwise you’re going to get you both caught.

Niece!reader who wakes Aegon up with his dick in your mouth, making sure that he knows who he belongs to as you lick a long stripe all the way from his balls to his head. you know how to play with him to have him weak in the knees, taking his balls into your mouth and sucking as you give his cock long strokes. you even lets him fuck into your mouth when he gets overly excited, sticking your tongue out and letting him the back of your throat, leaving awful lewd noises to fill the room. He’s literally shaking as he cums in your mouth, watching you with a hazy expression as you swallow his whole load with a smile.

Uncle!Aegon who tries to explain to his frat friend who lives two doors down about what happened that night but doesn’t need to when his friend gives him a knowing smile, saying that they stopped by an hour later and could clearly hear that he was occupied. Aegon laughs it off as they walk to classes together, not thinking anything of it until another friend approaches him, asking what his niece was doing popping by so early this morning, he’s quick to shrug it off, only for Aegon’s friend to give him a strange look as if he was putting the pieces together.

[toomanythoughts2]

Theory on Why Murderface and Toki don't practice.

(Just a heads up, this is going to be a bit of a theory with a lot of analyzing but I'll put the gist above the cut away in case no one wants to read the long version. To keep things in order, I follow the Dethklok age range, oldest to youngest: Pickles, Skwisgaar, Nathan, Murderface, and Toki.)

GIST: Magnus' abrupt dismissal from the band and Dethklok being just signed on with Crystal Mountain Records put a lot of pressure on Nathan and Skwisgaar (both known perfectionists), thus resulting in Toki's (brand new member) and Murderface's (hard-headed bass player) parts being re-recorded by Skwisgaar in order to satisfy Nathan and Skwisgaar's perfectionism. This in the long run would further push Toki and Murderface being apathetic toward practicing.

Below is a more detailed description and timeline of this theory.

(I would like to point out that this theory is not to make Nathan and Skwisgaar the bad guy, but more to pinpoint how perfectionism can often times have negative effects on individuals who are just starting out, like Toki and Murderface.)

So this theory is based on a lot of information I can gather from the show about Nathan and Skwisgaar's perfectionism, Toki and Murderface's apathy and work ethic, and the theory timeline of how it started.

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Nathan's Perfectionism

As everyone knows, Nathan is a notorious perfectionist. Nathan is known to record, delete, re-record, delete, re-re-record, delete, over and over again until he is satisfied. It's a theme that is shown multiple times in the show. The very first album we see them make in "Dethwater" is because Nathan kept deleting the record.

Nathan's perfectionism (along side his connection to the Whale Prophet) is a whole arch in Season 4, resulting in him destroying their master record in "Prankklok".

In fact, it could be argued that Nathan's whole arch in Army of the Doomstar of trying to write the Song Of Salvation while still in a Death Metal Perfectionist Mindset was one the reasons why he wrote the wrong song in the first place. Nathan trying to figure out who he wants to talk to and what he would say to them that would also match his perfect Death Metal Image is why the lyrics came so hard to him, even before Murderface's possession interference.

The idea of being the hand or the fist in Army of the Doomstar can also play into his perfectionism. It could resemble the idea of forcing oneself to be a certain way rather then letting oneself just be who they should be. (Peep the painted nails, LOVE!)

Now, while we don't see Nathan "practice" like how Skwisgaar practices his guitar, it's safe to assume that he does have a lot of knowledge on how to sing. For his style, it would be important to know how to practice singing in order to maintain his signature growling voice, especially since that's not his normal voice. On top of practicing, we also know that Dethklok is Nathan's band. Not Skwisgaar's, not Pickles', not Murderface's, and not Magnus'. Nathan's band. That is a very proud fact of his that he has shown to not hesitate bringing up when other people try and mess with his band, including higher ups like Abigail. Dethklok is Nathan's baby, it's his first love, it's his literal everything. As the creator of Dethklok, the frontman, the "dad" of the band, Nathan has a LOT of pressure on his shoulders to make sure that the albums that come out are good albums.

This is why Pickles' character is so important to Nathan because he balances him out. Pickles cares about Dethklok just as much as Nathan but he's been down this road before, and he knows how Nathan is. "Prankklok" and "Writersklok" are so important to bring up when discussing their relationship because it shows just how much Pickles knows about Nathan's perfectionism, temperament, and what that obsession can do to him. THAT'S WHY PICKLES IS SO DETERMINED FOR THEM TO GO ON THEIR FRIENDER BENDER, TO KEEP NATHAN AWAY FROM THE ALBUM AND LET LOOSE! Their fight in "Writersklok" wasn't just a funny "Mom and Dad are Fighting" bit, it was real argument with anger and frustration. It was about the album and about Nathan's lack of an apology or recognition to what he's done. (Look at how scared everyone looks around them while they're fighting. They are scared.)

It's also important to note that Pickles and Nathan's problems revolving Abigail didn't really start until much later in the season, I wanna say "Going Downklok", AND Pickles was not aware of the Whale Prophet until the end of season 4, when even Nathan finally had to confront his own memory about that night and what the Whale Prophet told him. THAT IS WHY NATHAN'S APOLOGY IN CHURCH OF THE BLACKKLOK IS SO FUCKING MEANINGFUL AND GOOD! That despite the group now understanding that Nathan had to destroy the record, he still apologized to Pickles for doing it because he knows it harmed his relationship with him.

The destruction of the album is equivalent to Nathan saying that everything that was put on it was not good enough, meaning it looks like a big "Fuck You" to Pickles when he's laying on the floor watching Nathan destroy the Master Recording.

Now remember: Nathan's perfectionism and destruction of the album harmed his relationship with Pickles in an almost life altering way. Nathan's inability to apologize almost split up Dethklok permanently.

Skwisgaar's Perfectionism

One of Skwisgaar's most famous characteristics is that he is always playing the guitar. It's a running joke in the show that he is always fretting, always practicing, and playing guitar is all he knows and does. He plays in the hot tub, he plays at meetings, he plays at the dinner table, he plays outside, he plays when he's stressed, he plays when he's bored, he plays in his sleep, and he plays when he's hurt in Army of the Doomstar. Skwisgaar is known to play his guitar and play it very well. So well in fact, Skwisgaar regularly records the parts for both Toki and Murderface for the albums, even when Toki and Murderface already have a recording. It's another running joke in the show that Skwisgaar will just go back to the studio and re-record whatever they have already done. However Skwisgaar has also been shown to listen, critic, and make Toki re-record his parts numerous times as if to find a good take for the record.

He even offers to show Murderface how to play his bass parts in "Dethsiduals", despite prior viewer knowledge that Skwisgaar records his parts anyway.

For me, Skwisgaar's perfectionism is in between "No one will ever be as good as me" and "Why isn't anyone as good as me?" He obviously wants Toki (and Murderface but he has more interactions with Toki and his guitar playing) to play to their full potential but his expectations are either never met, or they are met too close to "Good as or better than me" that he lashed out. In "Dethlessons" Skwisgaar lashes out at Toki when he gets a new guitar teacher and the band are being dicks to him, making him think Toki is getting better.

(This could also be read as jealousy for Toki's guitar teacher because Skwisgaar has been shown to be attached to Toki in their strange rival/BFF relationship in a way he is not attached to anyone else. I.E. "The Duel" in Doomstar Requiem and Skwisgaar's Nightmare that happens in "Dethlessons".

[If you want a really good analysis on Skwisgaar's Nightmare, check out this post by @dichromaticdyke. It's honestly one of my favorites.]

OR jealousy in the sense that someone ELSE was able to get Toki to start practicing in a way that is actually beneficial. No, Skwisgaar, dropping a bucket of blood on Toki during a guitar lesson is not good teaching.)

Something else to remember about Skwisgaar is that he has been playing and practicing since he was a child. "Fatherklok" shows us a glimpse of how Skwisgaar got his first guitar, and how attached he had become to that guitar, showing that he has been practicing for years and years and years. He has also been in countless bands before Dethklok like said in "Snakes n' Barrels", when they're naming off bands they have been in. Skwisgaar has discipline to the craft and an ego to match. He is known as a glowing guitar god. That's why "Skwisklok" is so important for the viewers to understand the amount of stress that title brings him. He knows he's the best but he also knows that everyone eventually falls, including himself. That's why he is so stressed about the show, because not only does he have to be good at playing guitar, he has to be good at teaching the guitar (which is shown in "Dethlessons" that Skwisgaar may not be completely talented in teaching guitar than he is playing. Granted, in the special features video that actually shows an episode of Skwisgaar teaching the guitar part to the Duncan Hills Coffee jingle, he is capable of teaching. It may not be his strong suit, but he can do it when need be. This also goes back to the idea that Skwisgaar's strong suit is guitar playing due to years of practicing)

In both episodes, "Dethlessons" and "Bookklok", the viewers see how stressed out Skwisgaar becomes when his title is compromised (Specifically by Toki but again, that's their own specific relationship) It can be implied that, without his guitar, Skwisgaar believes that he doesn't have a place in music (obviously "Fatherklok" showed us Skwisgaar can be a regular jackoff, but this is about his thought process, not his actual capabilities.) If he didn't believe that, he wouldn't be so freaked out and catatonic when his title is compromised by Toki.

"Dethlessons" and "Bookklok" also show us a side of Skwisgaar where, despite his fears, he still cares deeply for Toki's abilities and wants him to play good, though this is usually shown when it's apparent that Toki isn't going to be able to top Skwisgaar's playing ability (which goes back to that ego of his of being the best.)

It's also important to note that Skwisgaar writes all of the guitar and bass rifts for the band, meaning that anything he could play, they should be able to play, despite knowing he was always going to re-record their parts while knowing his bandmates limitations. I see it as Skwisgaar presenting them a challenge they could barely win in and then deciding at the last second that it's too difficult for them and yanking it away, destroying any possible effort, progress, or self esteem. In "Bookklok", Skwisgaar and Toki's interaction before the solo really shows how much importance Skwisgaar puts on practicing. But this episode also brings their relationship to a head, where Skwisgaar's constant negativity toward Toki's playing destroys their relationship, but it is not invalid. Skwisgaar has absolutely valid reasons for not letting Toki play the solo, especially if he had not been practicing, however, constant denial and bullying by Skwisgaar to Toki over years makes Toki's feelings also valid about being constantly snubbed.

How many solos has Toki been snubbed out of or destroyed by Skwisgaar due to his jealousy?

It's also important to note that Army of the Doomstar does have Skwisgaar genuinely teaching and complimenting Toki's guitar abilities, specifically about during a time when Toki practiced. That is an important detail because Skwisgaar does not compliment Toki's guitar playing in the show nor does he show any genuine interest in actually teaching Toki either (that doesn't end with Skwisgaar or Toki being upset.) This tiny interaction shows the viewers that Once Upon a Time, Skwisgaar did not have to worry about getting Toki (or Murderface) to practice and even liked it when they practiced.

Now remember: Skwisgaar regularly writes and re-records Toki's and Murderface's parts for the albums, despite making them record over and over in the first place. At one point, Toki did practice and Skwisgaar was aware of it, even saying it was good. This was most likely not a problem for Skwisgaar so he did not freak out.

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Toki's Apathy and Work Ethic

Toki (my love) is what I would call, gifted. I truly believe that Toki's character is suppose to represent the musically gifted or naturally talented. He has the type of talent that people could only dream of possessing. I say this because Toki's ability to shred like he does during "The Duel" makes to no sense without being gifted. Toki's childhood is isolated, desolated, physically and mentally abusive, neglected, and frowned upon. Toki was the outcast, he was the forsaken, the forgotten. He should be dead, but he isn't. He shouldn't have known about the village closest to his home but he did. He shouldn't have known Runke but he did. Toki is a story of perseverance and looking for the light in the dark and not letting it consume him. (He is VERY Cinderella coded.) Toki represents the raw talent of guitar playing. We are never shown nor is it talked about where Toki's love for guitar came from or how he first came upon it or for how long he had been playing for before meeting Dethklok, but it couldn't have been a long time.

The only clue he do get is that he was once friends with Runke, the owner of Drep Du Selv, a black metal record shop. With no other information, it's safe to say that Toki probably got his love for music and metal from that store, and probably from Runke personally. It can be inferred that Toki was probably sent out for errands in the village, came across the store, and fell in love with music. The topic of Toki being professionally taught by Runke or if he learned on his own is anyone's guess, especially when the wiki describes Runke as being slightly rude to Toki when he comes in. Toki has a hard time understanding what a "good" friend is suppose to be (E.I. Dr. Rockso, Magnus.) so what Toki remembered as a friend, was maybe more a begrudged acquaintance.

So, with that being said, Toki is probably self taught with very minimal interactions with other guitarists or musicians to guide him in the right direction. Toki's home is very rustic. I can't recall if the house showed any signs of having electricity, but it wouldn't be out of the realm that they wouldn't. That means Toki probably couldn't actually hear his own electric guitar, since he has no amps, cords, or other electrical devices to help him. Toki either had to practice at Drep Du Selv or he practiced WITHOUT HEARING HIS GUITAR PROPERLY!

The guitar he is seen playing in "The Duel" is also banged up and held together with duct tape, and is seen as being that way from the beginning. This means Toki was practicing guitar with no electricity on a busted and possibly broken guitar.

Also remember, Toki can't read music, so it would be very hard for him to learn on his own without understanding sheet music while being at the level Toki was when he first met Skwisgaar.

Which takes us back to Toki's journey to meet Dethklok. We aren't shown how Toki is kicked out, but it's implied it's due to his passion for guitar. At this point. Toki is probably well within teaching himself cords and melodies. Granted, we do not know anybody's actual age, but I have always seen Toki in his teens when he is kicked out. Whatever time frame was between Toki being kicked out, his journey to America, and his life on the streets is up to interpretation, but a year doesn't sound too far off, in my opinion.

All of this in between time, all of this time when Toki is in the punishment hole before being kicked out, all of his precious free time, Toki was most likely filling it with practicing the guitar the best way he could. Toki has a wild imagination, as we see with the clown doll we see in the punishment hole or his spider-dad in "Dethzazz". What's to say he wasn't constantly imagining his life as a famous guitarist, playing on stage or people, where he is loved and adored and no one hurts him anymore.

With all that being said, TOKI PRACTICED! HE PRACTICED!

At "The Duel", Toki's raw talent mixed with his determination to play guitar despite his challenges, is the reason why Skwisgaar chose him above anyone else. He made Skwisgaar feel challenged, which is not something anyone has done before, because no one before him has ever been as dedicated to the craft as him.

Toki and Skwisgaar are both dedicated musicians in their own right, in their own obstacles, in their own influences.

And that's where the problem lies.

Where Skwisgaar could feel himself growing and changing and getting better, Toki couldn't because his mentor/friend/rival knew his potential and wanted Toki to reach him, but not so much Toki would surpass him due to his perfectionism, stress, and self esteem issues. Skwisgaar's instance for better guitar playing, Toki's back and forth relationship with Skwisgaar being friends and rivals, and Toki getting used to Nathan's methods of recording, caused a feeling of apathy to grow in Toki.

"Why does it matter if I practice or not when I'm constantly being scrutinized and then replaced?"

Over the years of being in the band, just like how Toki described his and Skwisgaar's relationship in "Bookklok", it was once very good then bit by bit, it began to crumble. No more compliments, no more comradery, no more genuine interest (at least to Toki's perspective). As time would go on, Toki's passion for practicing guitar would eventually die down until practicing just became a thing of the past, while his passion for other things, like videogames, went up.

It is also important to note that practicing for adult Toki is not completely gone. In "Tributeklok", Toki/Skwisgaar is fully capable of playing the lead guitarist in Thunderhorse with no hiccups or problems. "Dethlessons" where Toki seeks out guitar lessons from Skwisgaar and his guitar teacher, shows determination from Toki to get better at guitar. "Bookklok" also shows us that, with the right motivation (and a power trip), Toki is fully prepared and able to play a solo to a sold out crowd, completely confidant in his abilities, unlike in "Dethlessons" when he initially freaks out. "Bookklok" Toki shows us a Toki that has most definitely practiced for this show, with a costume and attitude to match.

In Army of the Doomstar, we finally get a chance to see Skwisgaar genuinely teach Toki something about his guitar, and tell him he needs to practice "like when he was good". No buckets of blood, no yelling, no insults, no fighting. Just a genuine tip and a stern notion to practice with a compliment. And what does he do? HE PRACTICES!

So apathy has not completely destroyed Toki's ability to practice, but extreme circumstances have to happen for him to even want to do it again, which isn't viable.

Now remember: Toki represents raw talent with serious determination and discipline for guitar playing in horrible conditions. He did practice and can practice. Constant belittlement of his talents, especially by Skwisgaar, has rendered him to be apathetic toward practicing. However, Toki seems more inclined to practice when he is given a reason, such as a power trip or by positive reinforcement and lessons.

Murderface's Apathy and Work Ethic

Murderface (my other love) is what I would call, spiteful. We get almost 0 information on his background other than: his parents murder-suicide, growing up with his grandparents, he threatened his principal so he could graduated while only drinking, smoking, and playing bass, and that he is most likely Southern American based on his confederate flag boxers and pension for Early American wars.

From what can be gathered, Murderface is an angry boy that turned into an angry man. Murderface's parent's deaths most likely uprooted Stella and Thunderbolt's entire retirement plan (along with Thunderbolt's stroke) Seeing from how Stella dresses and how we see Thunderbolt for the first time, Murderface's childhood was probably one in poverty. Mixed with medical debt, new child debt, the loss of a son and daughter-in-law, and with a seemingly already angry outlook on life (and possible Southern Baptist Christian religious values) Stella most likely raised Murderface in a very angry and unsafe home.

With how we see Stella talk and hit Murderface the few times she's on screen, their relationship as grandson and grandmother is probably very very strained, toxic, and hostile. I could imagine Stella being particularly cruel and hateful toward Murderface, crushing any kind of attempt to connect.

It is canon that all Murderface wants is to be loved and love back. But how is one suppose to do that when they grow up in a home that hates him, blames him, tells him that he's nothing, that he can't do a damn thing right, that he's stupid, and that he isn't going to be anything?

That's the difference between Toki and Murderface. Where Toki refused to be swallowed up by the hatred, Murderface embraced it, and it became his saving grace.

We see Murderface try to take credit for things he hasn't done or try to say he's an expert in something that he barely knows anything about. It's half assed attempts to get things for himself, but also, for people to admire him for something he is good at. Toki is known as a copy cat, but Murderface mimics a lot, especially intelligence for things that people often respect. I could imagine Murderface trying his best as child to make friends but his constant failure of "everything" ruining it for him. The things that made him him were not good enough. So he would start mimicking what got other people positive attention. Which would lead to him being caught and getting in trouble, but with his background of being an angry household, anger and violence was how he would react to being called out, making him more of an outcast.

This is also why we see Murderface wanting to constantly give his bandmates "advice", because it mimic's someone respected and someone that people want to listen to. It's not the best when he forces it, but at times, when he is being genuine, like when Murderface is consoling Nathan about his G.E.D. test, it does make him into someone that people want to listen to.

Now, while we have no timeline for Murderface at all, we can say that he was playing bass in high school, so a good 4 years of his teenage years were spent playing bass. So somewhere in his childhood, Murderface found the bass, he started drinking, and he starting smoking. He also completely gave up on his high school career to focus on the bass.

Why would he do that?

Because Murderface's passion for the bass didn't come naturally.

He found himself a niche he was good at and got him the tiniest bit of attention, and he ran with it. Why would he focus on something, like school, where he was probably bullied and teased by his peers, teachers, and family when he could focus all his time on something he was actually good at, like bass. Something important like bass got him attention and praise and the connection he longed for. So he practiced for years, day in and day out, in order to get a taste of admiration.

But not only did he practice with his hands, he practiced with his penis. Murderface has CALLUSUES on his DICK! You only get those when you practice over and over and over again! Murderface in Dethklok is known for his dick bass solos! It's what makes him very unique compared to any other bassists.

So, Murderface HAS A WORK ETHIC! HE HAS MOTIVATION! He wants to be admired and respected and he wants people to like him. So he practices. However, I don't think bass playing is his top passion, which makes him more suspectable to lazing about and not practicing.

During "Religionklok", Murderface keeps getting gifted basses from the band while in the hospital, even when he has a pile next to him just growing, and he doesn't look too excited to get them either.

Now, in "Birthdayface", the band gifts Murderface the Kennedy car with Abe's chair and a car destruction lot, and he sheds a single blood tear.

He shows more emotion toward the car than he does the bass, which makes me think that Murderface's passion for the bass is because it pulled him out of poverty and into the limelight and not because it's his greatest passion, where that would be history. (This is not to say that Murderface has no passion for bass, he obvious takes great pride in his dick playing and has never once decided to pick up another instrument.)

Murderface, for as lazy as he is, ABSOLUTLY HAS A WORK ETHIC AND CAN AND HAS PRACTICED HIS BASS BEFORE! He would not have been in Dethklok if he sucked. Nathan would not consider him the brutalist bass player if he sucked. Murderface sucks in a way where his playing can never really be beat by anyone else but he's not giving bass playing his full attention either. Murderface is the best bass player in the world, but the band is not acknowledging it, and is constantly the butt of jokes for his instrument.

He is responding to the bands bullying like how he responded with the kids at school. The one thing that made him liked in school, his bass playing, now made him a running joke in the band, so he's desperately trying to find something else to make them respect and admire him. That's why he is always trying to do something, like start his own band, "Planet Piss", be fire chief for the band, claim the title "band dad", claim writing credits but he knows he sucks at all of these things. Of course he does, he's self aware enough to know these things, but he still tries, because he's desperate for their attention and respect.

And when Murderface is looking to try something else, he isn't practicing, and when he's not practicing, he's not good at the one thing that got him in the band in the first place. This results in more bullying, more cutting of his takes, more desperate moves for attention, and more spitefulness.

Murderface only knows how to respond in spitefulness, so when faced with Skwisgaar and Nathan's perfectionism, he only grows more bitter and cold toward his playing and becomes completely apathetic to it, knowing that he could never truly please them anymore, and has to find something else.

Now remember: Murderface is an original member for Dethklok and has shown and talked about years of practicing. He craves loves and attention but is bullied by the band for the one thing he knows he is good at it. The bullying and perfectionism of those he desperately wants approval from makes Murderface branch out into other niches or ways to get that positive attention, which negatively effects his playing. Bass is most likely not his number one passion, and thus more likely to be pushed aside for other favored passions, like history.

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Magnus Hammersmith

Magnus is a very interesting character but I will keep this part short in reference to the theory.

Very limited knowledge is known about Magnus but just enough is known of his early involvement with Dethklok and why his removal brought the band so much stress.

Magnus most likely had industry experience but was never in a band, perse. From the clues in the show we get, Magnus is an OG member for Dethklok. He is so OG, that he is still known as an Ex-Member of Dethklok. You can see it on the flier for Rock-a-Roonie camp in Toki's room. This means that Magnus was a part of the band when they were actively giving out music. At least enough for people to see his name in the credits.

Now, Doomstar gives us a look at Dethklok's old band manager, an unnamed man, but someone before Charles. However, in "Renovationklok", we see Charles is Dethklok's band manager when signing on to Crystal Mountain Records and Magnus is in the back. So it's safe to assume that Magnus was there in the very very beginning of the band. It's also safe to assume that, when Roy is talking to the band in "Breakupklok" about receiving a CD with a sharpie written name on the front called "Dethklok", we can assume he is not referring to Toki on this CD, but Magnus.

We also get a glimpse of a Dethklok with Magnus in it where everyone looks happy, where they are all friends. I am assuming the picture was taken before being signed on, because Magnus leaving and Toki coming in, had to have happened AFTER they were signed onto the label, as Magnus was at the signing!

The reason Magnus probably snapped at the band is because he too is a perfectionist. This was his first band and he didn't know quite how to handle the pressure that came with it. Everyone else in the group had a good handle of keeping themselves in line, except Magnus. Magnus, who is known only for being an Ex-member of Dethklok and nothing else. Magnus, who once put under a lot of pressure, attacked Nathan by stabbing him in the back. Magnus, who was kicked out the band after being signed on, thus creating a 5th member slot open.

The conversation between the band, Charles, and Crystal Mountain Records was probably not good, not at all. In fact, it probably brought the pressure up tenfold, seeing how a member was missing, an instrument would have to either be filled or deleted from their already created songs, and this would be their first real record as a band, which could make or break them.

With Magnus' departure, the pressure was on.

Thus, welcoming Toki, into a steaming kettle pot of stress.

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Timeline

This timeline describes the theory as it begins. The analysis describes how the boys are all suspectable for perfectionism/apathy and how that carried over with them through the career.

It goes as followed:

Pickles leaves Snakes n' Barrels

Nathan graduates HS

Skwisgaar comes to the US in search of another band

Murderface is entering high school, practicing bass, drinking, and smoking.

Toki is learning how to play in secret in Norway

Pickles meets Magnus at an industry party and discuss a partnership of sorts but nothing concrete happens

Nathan puts out fliers for a band "Dethklok", looking for musicians

Skwisgaar finds a flyer, auditions, and joins

Murderface continues to practice and threatens the principal to leave him be

Nathan and Skwisgaar struggle to find other members for the band, so have to go in and out of jackoff jobs for a few years

Pickles joins a few bands to fill his pocket with Magnus by his side, producing or engineering for a few years

Nathan and Skwisgaar wind up at an industry party, where they meet Pickles and Magnus. From here, they audition as musicians and get in. They get their first manager.

Murderface graduates HS and runs away from home to Florida, where he stumbles upon the flier and auditions for Dethklok, getting in.

Toki is found out by his parents and kicks out of the home, resulting in Toki being homeless

Dethklok produces a few songs with their old manager but decide to kick him out once they learn he was embezzling money from them

Dethklok meets Charles through an employment office, using the last of their money to hire a new manager who knows his shit.

Toki works his way through Europe until he can find a way across the ocean to America.

Charles is able to get a Dethklok CD to Roy Cornickelson, CEO of Crystal Mountain Records and he likes them. The band is signed on shortly after. They are given a year to produce a full album with a sign on bonus. They use the money to buy equipment and roadies, also known as "Klokateers".

Toki is able to get a boat ticket that will take him to Florida

The pressure of making the record begins to get to the band, specifically Magnus, which results in him insulting the band.

Toki is in Florida, living on the streets, and playing and going to any audition that was open, only for none of them to want him since he was a gross looking homeless boy

While practicing, Pickles changed the drum pattern that Magnus created, causing a fight to break out between Nathan and Magnus.

Magnus is kicked out the band.

Magnus destroys the apartment and the equipment, along with threatening the band and insulting Murderface.

The sign on bonus is dwindling quicker once new instruments had to be bought

Dethklok tells Charles what happens and he schedules a meeting with Roy. Roy is not happy. They had a decision to make. Either redo the whole album without a rhythm guitarist or find another member, and fast, as the deadline is virtually around the corner.

Dethklok decides to hold auditions for a rhythm guitarist, Skwisgaar decided to dual them all and if one can beat him, then they can join

Toki find the flier for the audition, gets lost on the way, and arrives late. Skwisgaar decided to let him duel, they duel, and Toki is let in the band.

With the deadline approaching, Nathan and Skwisgaar are very concerned about the album, and plus the introduction of a new member.

While recording Toki and Murderface's parts, Nathan and Skwisgaar are pushed to their limits at being perfectionists, nitpicking everything about their playing. Pickles ends up having to reel them in when Toki looks close to crying and Murderface looks close to murder

Toki and Murderface both manage to get their parts recorded, but are then deleted and redone by Skwisgaar in fear that the band will suffer and fail due to an inexperienced teenage guitarist and a hot-headed bass player.

Pickles finds out, and while also sharing their same fears, tells them that what they did was not cool. Skwisgaar and Nathan end up keeping a few of their original recordings in the songs that they don't care for so much as the other, EP style singles, as a way to appease Pickles and to make their "not guilt guilt" feeling go away

Toki and Murderface do find out from a drunk Pickles that a majority of their stuff was erased from the album upon completion and they are equally hurt by the revelation

Their hurt gets pushed to the side once the money starts coming in and Toki is still revealing in the fact that he has a family now and is no longer on the streets

Toki and Murderface decide to let it go and focus on the positive the album has brought them

Nathan and Skwisgaar secretly credit their re-recordings for the reason that the album did so well, and continue to do it, becoming less and less secretive as time went on

Toki becomes more and more hurt and confused as to why his once amazing guitar playing skills were being deleted and scrutinized by the same guy who wanted him

Murderface is hurt that the one thing he believed he was good at was now not enough, thus loosening his hold on his passion and seeing out other things to get their attention

Toki and Murderface become apathetic to practicing as their parts are always re-recorded, deleted, or never mixed in

Skwisgaar and Nathan believe they are doing the right thing for the band and get upset when Toki and Murderface don't practice

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Conclusion

The cycle of being deleted and bullied and being upset that their bandmates aren't doing their best end up creating some animosity in the band. It isn't until Army of the Doomstar that the band will be able to fix their wrongs, work toward being better toward each other, embrace each others own unique abilities and styles with their instruments, and apologize to one another. Toki and Murderface feel re-energized to practice once more and Nathan and Skwisgaar are instead working with the material they have instead of trying to force something out of a hundred+ takes.

It is also important to note that Dethalbum IV is said to have more rhythmic guitar and bass sounds than previous albums, thus concluding to a musical standpoint that Skwisgaar is writing and letting Toki and Murderface shine on this album rather than mixed out to hidden behind the lead guitarist. This development is incredible and backs up what

And THAT is why I think Toki and Murderface don't practice!

[gloomwitchwrites]

Just Like Dad (4 of 4)

Content & Warnings: referenced military career, domestic fluff

Word Count: 957

A/N: Part of the Imagines & What If Series

Checking through his daughter’s backpack strikes up a difficult conversation.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // just like dad masterlist

Price has no idea where his daughter’s disorganization from, but it certainly isn’t him.

Opening her backpack, Price cringes at the mess. It’s all crushed papers, broken pencils, scattered crayons, and food wrappers. Sighing, Price turns the backpack zipper-side down, the contents crashing to the dining room table.

She is going to sit down tonight and organize this. No exceptions.

Frowning down at the wreckage, Price begins sorting through the papers, glancing at a few just to find some order in the chaos. He picks up a piece of paper and pauses, his gaze landing on the title.

All About Me reads the top of the page.

Price smiles as he starts to read over his daughter’s answers.

Favorite color? Blue.

Favorite animal? Dragon—all capital letters with lots of exclamation points.

Happiest memory? That one just says “ghostie tree.” Her teacher will have no idea what that means, but Price knows, and he laughs so hard he almost chokes.

Price’s daughter adores Simon, and whenever he’s around, she turns into a koala, hanging off every limb. It doesn’t matter if Simon is standing or sitting down. And how does Simon feel about it? He’ll act bored, like it hardly bothers him, but then he’ll strike, tickling her until she runs away screaming only for her to return minutes later to do it all over again.

Flipping it over, Price continues to read, pausing when he reaches information about parents and guardians. This is where he slows and observers her writing. She already filled stuff out about mom, and Price knows you’d get a laugh out of her answers, but the sections about him cool his amusement.

Her answers are idyllic versions of himself, nearly whimsical in the way she describes what he does and how proud she is that he is her father. That makes him ache, brings a tightness to his chest that pushes out all other feeling. Price is proud of his work, and of his career, but it is not a beautiful thing.

It is not sweet or kind or tender.

It is rough. It is hard.

It is heartbreaking.

He has lost so many people. So many good men and women. He’s done horrible things. Stained his palms with blood. These are difficult truths he faces every day.

But there are softer moments in his career of watching those he’s mentored be promoted, of victories and celebrations, of marriages and births, and of all those he’s worked with who have gone on to lead fulfilling, happy lives.

All of that, and this isn’t what stops him.

It’s her answer to the question “what do you want to be when you grow up?”

I want to be like my dad.

Price sighs and sets the paper down on the table.

How does he respond to that? Should he even take the initiative? Should he approach the topic at all?

Price isn’t certain.

“Daddy.”

Price starts at his daughter’s voice. He turns. She’s standing just inside the archway to the living room. She has a perplexed look on her face as she glances between him and the mess on the kitchen.

“What’ve you done with my backpack?”

Price blinks, and then chuckles. “It’s a mess, love. We’ve taught you better.” Her face flushes slightly as she slowly walks up to the table. “You’re sitting down and going through this. No exceptions.”

She nods sheepishly.

Price picks up the questionnaire. “Want to talk about this? I have to sign off on it.”

Her flush grows deeper. “Did you read it?”

“I did.”

She looks up at him expectantly and Price waits a moment to see if she’ll say anything. She doesn’t.

“You said some nice things about me,” he says softly, and she beams. It reminds him of your smile, and that melts his heart down to his toes.

“It’s true,” she says brightly, happy that he’s mentioned anything at all.

“You want to be like me?” She nods. “And what do I do?”

She blinks. “Didn’t you read what I wrote?”

Price barks a laugh. “Yes, love. I did. But I want to hear it from you.”

She squares her shoulders and looks up at him with fierce determination. “You protect people. I want to protect people.”

True. But not entirely.

“How do you think I protect people?” He can see her brain processing the question and attempting to formulate an answer. She chews on her bottom lip, shoulders sagging slightly.

“I don’t know,” she finally says. “But I know that you do. You protect me and mom.”

“That’s because you and your mother are mine to protect.”

Protect is not the right word. While his actions and the things that he does might prevent horrible things happening at a global level, doing so often results in pain and suffering. It’s just what happens even when he tries to prevent that.

“Can I not do that?” she asks.

“You can do whatever you want when you’re older.”

But military life? No. He doesn’t wish that for her, and it’s not because she’s a girl. He’d feel the same if she has been born a son. No parent wants to see their child in potential danger. Doesn’t matter what age.

“So I can be just like you?”

He wants to say “no,” but instead diverts the question elsewhere. “You can’t be anything if you don’t organize this backpack.”

She groans and starts rummaging around in the mess.

Price kisses the top of her head. When he glances up, you’re standing in the archway, a soft smile on your face. Did you hear the whole conversation? Or just the end?

You stride forward and reach out. Price meets your outstretched hand, threading his fingers with yours.

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[themusingsofacurlyhairednerd]

Datura Pt 11

Summary: Returning to the Mountain brings up a lot of feelings and Reader tries and fails to keep them all bottled up.

Content Warnings: SMUT (I told you it would come eventually ;) ), a lot of dirty talk, suggestiveness, a little light bondage if you squint, as well as alcohol consumption and drug use.

Author's Note: I apparently have a lot of feelings about sitting in Rhys's lap, 'cause I wrote this Vamp!Rhys fic and this in the same week. I was gonna end it on an angsty note, but the miscommunication trope makes me want to rip my hair out, so I made it fluffy instead (they're adults they can TALK TO EACH OTHER like adults). Anyway, hope ya'll enjoy! As always, let me know if you want to be added to the Tag List, and thank you to everyone who likes, comments and reblogs, ya'll make me want to keep writing <3

Previous chapter/ Master list

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The music is a heavy pulse in your skull, drowning out all thought as the lights flash and flare overhead like dozens of fireworks in time to the beat. Your hips sway, flimsy excuse of a dress clinging to your thighs as you twirl and spin in time to the beat. Dozens of hands pass you a long, keep you spinning and spinning until the lights glitter like stars overhead. You throw your head back and laugh at the way they glitter and stretch along your quickly blurring vision.

Someone passes you another cup and you tip the contents back in one gulp, savoring the burn, relishing in the way it fills your empty stomach. You’ve lost count of how many glasses you’ve had, lost count of where the empty ones go as you move along with the crowd, let the press of bodies move you like an ebbing tide.

A cigarette gets passed your way, the violet smoke filtering in hazy rings around people’s heads like halos. Do you smoke? You can’t remember. Can’t think about why you should care at all as you bring it to your lips and inhale deeply, letting the mirthroot take hold.

This is the most fun you’ve had in weeks, it’s the first time you allow yourself complete unbridled freedom. There is nothing to worry about here but following the music and the flow of drink as the mirthroot makes your body loose and limber.

Strong hands settle on your hips as you take another drag, eyes closed, savoring the burn. You sway your hips under the grip, pushing your body back into the firm planes of the male behind you. You don’t have the presence of mind to be mortified, to think about the way you’re grinding on a stranger in the middle of this crowd of people. 

Warm breath frames your neck, skittering over the golden collar still encircling your throat. “I think you’ve had enough, Darling.”

Mate. Mate. Mate. The words dance around the bargain mark on your ribs, heat flaring in your chest that has nothing to do with the fae wine or the mirthroot and everything to do with the fact that when you’d been dragged back into your cell, it had been empty. Empty and had smelled like her. And you’d thrown yourself against the battered door, claws slashing across the worn iron until they shattered from your fingertips, until you splattered blood across the unyielding iron, dark mist filling the cell until it nearly sucked the air from the room. You don’t know how or why the door held, why your nails couldn’t cut through the strange marks etched into the door; the only thing that was clear is that in retaliation for leaving, your fault or not, she’d taken Rhys and had left you alone in the dark. Days passed without word, without food, until the guards had come and thrown you into a room with the order to bathe and change and be ready in an hour and you complied only with the intent to go right into the Throne Room to rip her throat out with your teeth. But Rhys hadn’t been at her side when you arrived either, hadn’t been a face in the crowd as Amarantha declared to the court that you had slain the twins sent from Hybern for attacking their Queen. The crowd that days ago had been laughing at your plight as you’d been made to kneel on the floor like an animal was now cheering you on like a hero. Fickle and spineless; Amarantha said jump and they asked how high without question or reason. She’d left you to their whims after that and the wine had started flowing and you’d needed to calm the panic and rage swelling like a storm beneath your skin and had reached for one. One had somehow turned into two and then three and you’d lost count after that, lost yourself in the blissful emptiness and tried to forget how powerless you really were in all of this.

You turn in his arms and though he remains standing where he is, there’s suddenly six of him spinning in dizzying circles and you have to grip onto his shoulders to keep yourself on your feet.

“Easy,” he says, his grip on your hips firm.

You’ve forgotten just how big he is compared to you, how much of you he can fit in his hands. You're too far gone to stop yourself from wondering how those hands would feel beneath your dress, on your thighs, spreading you open…

“Easy,” he says again, nostrils flaring like he scents the effect he has on you like this.

Your hands feel like they're drifting through soup as you reach out to brush your hand through his hair. He’s clean too, skin healed, the clothes new and finely pressed. There is no lingering scent of incense, though you’re pretty sure the mirthroot you smell is on your skin and not his, he remains wholly jasmine and citrus. Nothing of her on him.

“You’re ok?” The words slur out of you, sound muffled and distant even as they come out your mouth. You need him to tell you he’s ok, that she didn’t hurt him, that he got called away for something, anything. He does other things for her, he brought in Tamlin all those weeks ago, he has other roles, but you don’t know how to make the words come out against the fog that rolls through your head. “You’re ok?”

“I’m ok,” he says with a nod. “Let’s get you some water.”

You shake your head. Water is somewhere near the tables and lounge chairs in the corner, somewhere she might be lurking, waiting for you to slip up, waiting for her chance to steal him again and you can’t have that. “Want to dance.” Want to dance and drink and forget; want to smoke and move and let the music erase everything that is happening around you so that the only thing that matters is the two of you. It’s an added bonus that if he dances with you then that means he keeps his hands on you, has an excuse to keep touching you. Gods you want more of that!

“Water first,” he says, giving you a little nudge backwards.

The move makes the world spin again and you giggle as you let yourself fall into it. 

“Wow, you’re really drunk,” he says as he hauls you against his chest and half carries half drags you through the crowd.

“You’re strong,” you giggle. You can feel the muscles in his arms and chest tighten as he moves you around, his fingertips digging deliciously in your hips. 

It’s by sheer force of Rhys’s will that you end up in a chair with a glass of water, that you take a single sip of and make a face. “Gross. Want more wine.”

A servant automatically appears with a glass beside you, but before you can grab it, or spill it given the way your limbs flop around, he snatches it off the tray. “Water first.”

You stick out your lower lip. “Why are you being so mean to me?”

He takes a drink out of the cup and suddenly the most exciting thing in the world is watching how his throat works when he swallows and the way the wine stains his lips. “‘Cause it’s fun,” he retorts.

You manage to get another sip of water down before you accidentally catch the glass on the edge of the table and spill it everywhere. “Fuck me,” you say dejectedly. In your state your first thought is to use your skirts to try and dry up the mess, but there’s not enough of them, the sheer fabric barely covering the tops of your thighs. 

“You have impeccable manners,” he says as he reaches for your hands to stop you from flashing the whole room as you try and wiggle the dress up enough to use it as a napkin. With a snap of his fingers the mess cleans itself. 

“Ooooohhh neat,” you run a finger over the dry table. “Can you teach me to do that?”

You’re too drunk to notice your mistake, but he says, “If you had any powers left, sure,” a little louder than necessary to cover you.

“Right,” you slur as you try to stand on shaky legs. “Well water was good, we dance now.”

He remains a firm wall between you and the dance floor. “Unless you can absorb water through your skin, you didn’t actually drink anything.”

“Had a sip.”

“Doesn’t count.”

“Meanie,” you hiss.

“You’re very cute when you’re drunk,” he teases and the grin he gives you makes you want to stretch up on your toes and kiss him right there. 

“You’re very kissable when you smile,” you return.

Rhys huffs a laugh and you think you might do just about anything to get him to laugh again. 

“I’m always very kissable,” he retorts. “It’s part of my charm.”

“So make part of your charm dancing with me,” you press.

He grabs your hand like he might do just that, but instead, spins around you to claim an empty couch and pulls you down to sit in his lap so fast the world flips and twirls in a blur of pulsing colors that makes you squeeze your eyes shut. The wine rises up in your throat, threatening to come back out in a rush and you curl into his chest trying to find a way to make it stop.

“I think this is better.”

You squeeze your temples with your palms. “Make my brain stop spinning,” you whine. Maybe he’s right, maybe dancing is a bad idea. 

Besides, he’s still touching you like this. More than touching actually. You’re situated in his lap, knees bracketing his hips, chest to chest, no collar around his throat to stop you if you wanted to put your lips to his neck. There’s not even a scar or bruise to indicate that it had been there, nothing but smooth, bronze skin and the teasing peak of his tattoos beneath his collar.

You brace yourself against his shoulders as the world stops spinning, suddenly very aware of how high your skirt is riding up and how strong the muscles in his thighs are between your legs.

He brings his hands to hold your hips again and you thank the Mother that you’re not so drunk that you’ve lost your inhibitions completely because the only thought in your head right now is how it would feel to grind yourself down on him.

“You’re very drunk,” he says lowly, his own gaze locked on the space between your bodies like he’s drinking in the way your thighs look around him.

“So?”

“So it would be wrong,” he retorts.

“What?” You move your hands to the back of the couch behind him, chest brushing his. There’s barely any straps to your top, the neckline a deep v that leaves your cleavage on display and you don’t miss the way his gaze tracks it as you lean in. “What would be wrong?”

He runs his tongue over his lower lip, staring and something stirs deep inside you. Claim. Claim. Claim. He is your mate and you want him to touch you, kiss you, claim you. 

It’s the thought that makes you pause for a brief moment. Does he know your mates? Does he feel this growing need? This incessant longing beating from your rib cage that needs to be touched and held and claimed so deeply you forget what it felt like to be anything else? Is that the bond? Or the wine? 

“Doing all the things I’ve been thinking about since the moment I had my lips on yours,” he says, voice barely a whisper, gaze still transfixed on your body.

You preen under the heat in his gaze, press your chest a little more firmly into his so that you can be nose to nose with him. The wine has certainly made you more brazen. “What kinds of things, Rhys?”

The hands holding your hips tighten, fingertips kneading the soft flesh hard enough to bruise and yet your whole body turns molten at that touch. It’s the delicious line between pain and pleasure, and after days and days of cold emptiness, the heat it sparks through your body is more addictive than any wine or drug you can consume here.

“Want this dress off you for starters,” he murmurs, full lips drifting down to dust over the straps clinging to your shoulders. 

His words conjure an image in your mind of him leaning forward, pulling the straps down with his teeth, baring the full expanse of your body to him. You shiver under the mental image, hips rocking down against him.

“Want to mark every bit of you I can reach, so that no one dares touch you,” he continues, teeth scraping over your shoulder. “So that everyone knows your mine.”

His.  The possession in his tone really does you in, heat building in your lower belly as you grind yourself down against the growing bulge in his pants. The scrape against your core makes your mouth drop open, groan falling from your parted lips. It would be so easy to come undone from this alone.

“Only mine,” he emphasizes, sucking a mark where your neck meets your shoulder, visible beneath that damned collar you can’t take off.

“Rhys,” you whimper, releasing your grip on the back of the couch to drag your hands through his dark hair. “Please.”

His lips move along your throat, teeth scraping your skin before sucking another mark into your sensitive flesh. He’s taking his time, just as he promised all those weeks ago on Calanmai. “Want to know what little noises you’d make for me, how you’d fall apart in my hands…”

You drag your hand from his hair, reaching for the straps of your dress to pull them down for him, hoping to spur him further into action, but he finally releases his grip on your hips to stop you. 

“None of that, Darling,” he tuts. “It comes off when I say it does.”

To that point, when you try to rock your hips against him again, it's his glittering, obsidian power that pins you in place, a slither of darkness twining around your hips to hold you there, utterly at his mercy.

He chuckles when you whimper and pout, lower lip sticking out, tears welling up in your eyes, because it’s not fair that he’s this close, that he’s just a hair breadth away from where you need him most and he knows it. He can smell it on you, see it on every line in your face, and yet he won’t move to help you.

“Please, Rhys, please,” you beg. The need for him is unbearable, your whole body burning like it’s on fire, the only relief is the contact with his body. Your mate so close to where you need him most.

“Hogging the woman of the hour, are we?” 

You hadn’t heard any approaching footsteps over the pounding of the base against the rock, the sudden appearance making you flinch as Rhys throws a warning snarl over your shoulder. It only makes the red headed male approaching chuckle as he comes to stand directly behind you. The cedar and cinnamon smell of him reminds you of curling up under a warm wool blanket next to a fireplace with your favorite book about vampires, something you like to do in nice Autumn weather.

Slender fingers drag up your spine, and in your delirious state, it makes you arch your back as you shiver under it.

“Eris,” Rhys purrs, but there’s an edge in his tone as he watches you move under another male’s ministrations. The sliver of his power around your waist tightens, the shadows slipping under your skirts to writhe against your flushed skin. He allows you to jerk forward, hips rocking right into the obvious sign of his own arousal, and your eyes roll back into your head at the contact.

“I can name a dozen males who would kill for a chance to be where you are right now, Rhysand,” Eris returns.

“I don’t share,” Rhys says and cauldron that’s all it takes for you to place your lips against his throat. He hums his approval as you scrape your teeth against his skin, hands threading into your hair as you nip and bite and use your tongue to cool any pain you cause him. 

Eris plops himself down in the seat next to Rhys, long arms thrown over the back of the couch as he makes himself comfortable. 

You can’t bring yourself to care about the audience as you nip at the underside of his jaw. He tilts his head back for you so you can reach more of him unhindered and you sink a little lower down on his lap chasing any friction you can find before the shadows tighten and still your movements again.

“Bastard,” you growl into his throat, but he merely turns his attention to the male next to him. 

“You didn’t respond to my message,” Eris hisses. A glass of wine appears in his hand and he takes a slow drink. To any onlookers he’s merely enjoying the party with the High Lord and his nightly entertainment. 

“What message?” 

“Shit.” This conversation is becoming sobering, despite your best efforts to tune out the other male and focus solely on the pleasure just out of reach. All night long you’d been able to forget.

Eris gives you a sidelong glance that might have made you squirm under the intensity if Rhys hadn’t shifted beneath you to get a better look at the other male, hips brushing up against your center in a move that is definitely intentional. 

“The one I gave her,” Eris snarls.

“This is the first I’ve seen her in days,” Rhys retorts, a hand stroking through your hair. “You know how to get in contact with me.”

Eris glances around at the dancers that move past for refreshments as he takes another drink. Only when they’re gone does he say, “So you didn’t tell her to kill the twins?”

You stop moving; stop thinking about Rhys’s body as the image of Dagdan and Brannagh’s mangled bodies flash across your mind. You’re suddenly a lot more sober than you had been moment ago.

Rhys brushes a mental hand against your mind and you flinch, head still tender from the beating it had taken trying to keep your cousins out. “Darling?”

The concern in his tone makes shame burn its way through your lungs. At the littlest thing he’s dropping everything to make sure you’re ok, and yet here you are, with no idea where he’s been or what he’s been through and you’re grinding in his lap like a horny teenager. What kind of mate are you?

“No I didn’t,” Rhys says to Eris, even as he makes another tender stroke against your mind, asking to be let in. “But I’m sure she had her reasons.”

“Do you think we can use it to our advantage?” Eris asks.

You don’t deserve how gentle he is with you, but you can’t stop yourself from lowering your shields just enough to let him in. He should know just how much of a monster you’re capable of being before he gets too close. 

“Will you show me?” He asks and you open the doorway into the memory, keeping the conversation you’d had with Tamlin about him, the realization of what he is to you, out of reach. He deserves better than that.

Rhys strokes his hands in your hair as he watches the memory unfold, your body shaking in his grip as all that blood and gore comes into view. When it’s over, he closes the door in your mind and clicks the lock into place for you. “It’s over. You’re safe. You did what you had to do to survive, there is no shame in that.”

You press your face into his shoulder to hide the tears brimming in your eyes. You’re an ugly crier when you’re tipsy and you know if you start, you won’t stop.

“I think it’ll bring Hybern here quicker,” Rhys says to Eris, as he drags the fingers in your hair down to trace your spine. To an onlooker, he’s still playing with you, only the two of you know how often he’s traced these shapes into your skin when you wake up screaming in the dungeons. “Which can be played to our advantage if we’re careful.”

Eris takes another sip of wine, mulling it over.

“If Hybern can be convinced that our queen is acting out of her own agenda instead of his, he may just do our work for us.”

“A dangerous game,” Eris frowns.

“It always is,” Rhys returns.

It’s astounding how calm and level headed he can remain, always centered, even while everyone else rages and panics around him. How are you supposed to be his equal? To his calm there is only your spinning thoughts and unchecked temper. Everything makes you want to claw and rage and smash things; aren’t mates supposed to balance each other out? What do you bring him other than another mess to sort through?

“Well if you’re not going to share her, I’ll leave you to it,” Eris says as he downs his cup and stands, making a show of stretching, tight shirt rising up to expose the toned line of his abs to a passing cluster of male and female dancers.

Rhys chuckles at that, sliding a little lower into the couch, as he says, “She’s all mine.”

Is this all the conversation they can have? A few passing whispers? A few half-veiled hopes at a plan? Fifty years of juggling court masks and gathering allies and pushing pieces into place in the shadows while everyone else parties around them? It’s such a contrast to the world you’re used to that you can’t help but feel small inside it. 

It’s only when he’s gone that Rhys asks, “Are you ok?”

“I thought being drunk was supposed to make me feel less depressed,” you grumble into his shirt because he’s pleasantly warm and you can’t bring your body to move from where you’re pressed into his chest.

“I think you passed over the threshold for that a couple drinks ago,” he replies.

“Take me back to the blissful void,” you whine.

“Well enough people have seen you here with me, I think we can slip away and get you into bed without causing a scene now.”

He’d pulled you over here on purpose, removing the shield of the crowd so people would see you with him, see you cutting loose, and when you disappeared they’d think he’d taken you to bed and not wonder if there was anything more to it, because his reputation was enough. That mask was so encompassing it could shield you too.

Rhys winnows you away and you can’t tell what end is up anymore, not until he sets you square in the center of a bed with black silk sheets. His room, as dust covered and bare as it had been the last time.

You groan as you fall back into the pillows, all the wine threatening to come up again as you try to keep yourself upright. This position allows you to feel just how wet you are between your legs, making you stop squeezing your eyes shut to look at the damp spot you’d left on Rhys’s pants. Not that he seems to notice as he peels off his jacket and starts unbuttoning his shirt, getting comfortable for the night, even as shame makes your cheeks turn bright red. What is wrong with you?

“You need a bucket over there?” He asks.

You need to drink until you can forget what you’ve been doing all night. How are you supposed to look at him now?

You hear the clink of his belt coming off before he climbs into the bed next to you and you force yourself not to open your eyes and look at what he’s wearing to bed, because you’ve made a fool of yourself enough for one night.

“That last drink was a mistake,” you lie, because what else are you supposed to say?

His body is warm as he lays down beside you. “You played your part well,” Rhys encourages. “No one will think twice about where you’ve gone.”

You’re an idiot, but you’re not quite sober enough to think better of it as you ask, “Is that all this is? A game?”

Rhys uses a bit of his power to snuff the candles out, bathing the room in utter darkness. “It’s necessary-”

You roll onto your side, finally daring to look at him, as best you can in the dark anyway. “But is that all you want it to be?” You press. 

He’d been laying with his hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling, but at your words he rolls over too, so you’re once again nose to nose, practically sharing a breath.

“Wanting anything is dangerous, Y/N.”

“So all that you said earlier, about wanting me, that was just for show? This is just a mask?”

“It keeps you safe,” he says so low it's almost a growl.

“But it’s not what you want?”

“I can’t…” he shakes his head. “I can’t. The things I love have a tendency to be taken from me, I cannot want anything other than to get out of here.”

Your eyes sting and you’re glad for the dark, glad that it hides the tears welling up in your eyes. “I can play this part, if that’s what we need to fulfill this bargain,” it’s a concentrated effort to keep your voice steady, but you mean it. If this is all it will be, then you will have to find a way to live with it, because at least your mate will be alive. And maybe, if Amarantha sees anything like what you two had been doing tonight, then maybe she’d direct that anger at you instead of him. You could find a way to use it to protect him, the same way he’d used it for you.

He’s your mate, whatever you have to do to make sure he survives, you’ll do it. Even if it tears you apart inside.

“But please, just tell me that it’s not real, that you don’t really want me, so that I can prepare, so that I don’t overstep. The last thing I want is to make you uncomfortable.”

His pause feels like it spans an hour, the silence ticking away like a clock in the darkness. “I…”

You stamp down the hope flaring in your chest, it’ll be easier to deal with if he is up front that he doesn’t see you as anything but a means to an end. “What do you want, Rhys?”

He growls, the sound skittering across your bones as he throws an arm around your waist and crashes his lips against yours. “You,” he says into your mind. “I want you in any way you’ll have me.”

The ink on your chest warms, feels strangely like it’s glowing beneath your skin as the solid weight of him settles on top of you, pushing you into the mattress. You're a tangle of limbs and teeth, as he kisses you like it might be his only chance to.

You drag your hands down the sharp contours of his spine, memorizing the feel of him beneath your fingertips as his tongue slides behind your teeth to taste you. This is far better than any drug, no amount of mirthroot could ever make you feel this high.

“You’re ok with this?” He pants into your lips, finally coming up for air.

“More than ok,” you confirm and that’s all it takes for him to start sliding the straps off your dress, pulling the tight fitting bodice slowly from your body. The chill in the air is only a momentary discomfort before his hands and lips chase it away as he follows the fabric down your body.

Thank the Mother for the privacy of the room, that you hadn’t managed to get your top off like you’d tried to do in the throne room, because the noise you let out when he gets his mouth around your nipple is embarrassingly loud, whole body flushed crimson. You clamp your hand over your mouth when he does the same move on your other breast, or at least you try to, that slithering ether of power snags your wrist and pins it above your head before you can cut off the noise.

“None of that,” he hums into your skin, teeth scraping your skin. “Want to hear you.”

Cauldron he’ll be the death of you! 

It’s his power that whisks the glamor away from the bargain mark so he can run his lips over the ink, tracing the flower petals and vines. “We should make more bargains, you look so pretty with all this ink.”

You huff a laugh as you scrape your nails through his hair, making a mess of it. “What kinds of bargains?”

He kisses lower, pulling the dress down towards your hips, following it again. “That you’ll let me taste you like this once a day for the rest of eternity,” he suggests as he lifts your hips to get the dress lower.

“I’m not wasting a bargain on that,” you huff, though you’re embarrassed to admit the way the suggestion makes heat pool in your core.

“You’re right, twice a day is more practical,” he says as he slips both the dress and your underthings off in one fell swoop. Strong arms wrap around your hips as he settles himself between your legs and you barely have time to draw a shaky breath before he’s running his tongue up your center.

“I-” all thought and argument eddies from your mind as your body arches under his ministrations. 

“More than that, perhaps?” He teases, adding a finger to the mix, even as his tongue swirls through your quickly budding arousal.

Your hand in his hair tightens, pulling his hair as you try and guide him deeper. “Rhys,” you whimper. He feels so good; so perfect. Nothing else would ever compare; he’s barely touched you and you’re fully ready to come apart already.

He adds a second finger, stretching you out as his tongue flicks over your clit, the combination making your head spin. You screw your eyes shut as your body tightens, muscles taut as a bow string as your pleasure builds too fast to prepare for. He might still be talking nonsense about bargains but you genuinely can’t hear a word he says against the white noise tearing through your head.

Mate. Mate. Mate. It’s right where the flower-what did he say it was called? Datura?-sits over your heart that you feel the bond between your souls, like a tether of glittering starlight. It’s been there, faint before, just enough of a tether to let you feel a bit of him at the other end, but now it thrums with his power, like it’s searching for your own. A call like the one he’d sent out on Calanmai, and you can’t tell if he’s testing to see if you know it’s there, or if it’s you pulling on it, begging to be closer to him as your high crashes over you.

Rhys kisses his way back up your body, lips damp with your arousal. “You know?” 

The disbelief in his tone brings you back to reality. Your shields had been down and you’d just…

You push yourself up on your elbows. “You knew?” You counter.

He brushes his lips over the bargain mark again, distracting himself from looking into your eyes as he says, “I suspected, before Calanmai, but afterwards, when I saw you for real, not just as a dream, it clicked.”

“You’d been dreaming about me?”

Another kiss on your heated skin, body relaxing under his touch. “For decades,” he whispers. “And I told myself that it was enough, that I’d leave it there, where you were safe and far away from all of this, but then there were whispers in the court about at a weapon Hybern was looking for. The more she had me look into it, the more my dreams started making sense, the better I could see you.”

You brush your fingers through the hair falling over his eyes, prompting him to finally look at you. “When she narrowed down that you were in Spring, she started sending me out on Calanmia to look for you, thinking it might mask all her hunters with those coming to the party. It was my only chance to reach you and I had every intention to get you to leave Spring.”

He catches your hand and presses a kiss to your fingertips. “I never meant to let you see me, but you were so scared and she decided to come out herself for the first time in years and I panicked. I couldn’t stop thinking about what would happen if she got her hands on you first.”

Your eyes sting at the confession. Your selfless mate, who through all these years of trauma, had still been willing to let you go without ever getting to see you if it meant you didn’t end up here.

“I swore that I’d do everything in my power to get you out, but I couldn’t… I couldn’t stay away, no matter how much I tried to. You needed me and I… I need you.”

You’re not entirely sure how useful you’ve been to him in all of this, but you let him speak anyway. 

“Not just this,” he says, gesturing to your bodies. “But for all of it.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“I don’t want you to think you’re stuck with me,” he says. “It doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to.”

You sit up as best you can around the weight of him over you so you can grip his face. “I’m not stuck with you. I’m choosing you. I want you, Rhys.”

The disbelief in his eyes makes your heart ache and you lean forward to gently kiss the tip of his nose. “Not just for this,” you repeat, gesturing to your bodies as he had done. “Though it is amazing.”

He grins at that.

“And not just this,” you drag his hand over the ink on your chest. “But for whatever is beyond this. When it’s all over, when we’ve won and we’ve got her stupid head on a pike, I want to explore whatever comes next with you.”

He kisses you then, eagerly, a little less frantic than before, but with no less desire, the taste of your arousal still faint on his swollen lips. You lean back into the mattress, pulling him down with you. 

“I know this whole thing is twisted and terrifying, but I want to walk with you through it. Together.”

“Together,” he confirms as you wrap your legs around his waist.

A new bargain mark zaps across your skin, over your palm, where your hands are intertwined, a twin to the one on his own hand. 

“I still think I made an excellent bargain offer,” he says as you tug at the waistband of his boxers.

“You’re insufferable, Rhysand,” you laugh.

“I think the word you’re thinking of is insatiable,” he counters as he lines himself up with your entrance.

“That too,” you reply as you arch your back, the tip of his cock gliding through your arousal. It’s a little more of stretch than you're used to, but the line between pain and pleasure blurs as he slowly rocks his hips into yours, taking his time to let you adjust. He really will ruin anyone else for you, not that you’ll ever want anything other than this from here on out.

“Darling,” he purrs, or tries to, the groan he lets out as he fully seats himself inside you makes shivers run up your spine. “You have no idea how insatiable I can be.”

You rock your hips, prompting him to move, to match your rhythm, to fill and take and claim you as your body has been begging him to all night long. “I think you should show me.”

The laugh he lets out sounds more like a growl as he picks up his pace, one hand braced against the headboard to give him more leverage as he slides nearly out of you and slams back in. You cling to his shoulders, nails gliding over his sweat-dampened skin for leverage, his name a whimper on your lips.

The bond between you glitters, swells with all the affection and desire he feels for you as he shoots in down to you. For all the pain and trouble it had caused, you think you still you might have come out earlier on Calanmai, just to feel this sooner. 

You whimper his name again and again as your high once again draws closer, your body white hot. 

“I’ve got you,” he says in your ear and judging by the frantic rutting of his hips you know he’ll be right there with you. Together in this, as you will be in the rest of it. You let yourself fall, unrestrained, as pleasure washes over you, your mate giving a shout as he follows close behind. The two of you topple into the sheets, clinging to each other as you catch your breath.

“You ok?” He asks as you cling tightly to him, even as your body relaxes.

You nuzzle your face into his chest. “I’m with my mate, how could I not be?” Whatever tomorrow holds, whatever dangers lie ahead, you can rest knowing that you’ll be together for it.

------------------------------------------

Tag List: @mariahoedt, @lovelydove, @twsssmlmaa, @sleepylunarwolf, @judig92, @willowpains, @daughterofthemoons-stuff, @annnaaaaaa88, @myheartfollower, @uniquecolorwizard, @eternallyelvish, @waytoomanyteenagefeels, @lovemesomevesey, @localfangirl09, @isa1b2h3, @starswholistenanddreamsanswered, @slytherintaco, @iluvewman-blog, @thebeautifulmysteriesoflife, @kitsunetori, @lilah-asteria, @dianxiaxie, @msoldier

[munsonsmixtapes]

Hello!!

Love your writing!!

I seen your post for prompts..

If possibly can you do Eddie x slightly thicker best friend...

Maybe sees her upset with her body or something

The numbers that popped into my mind thinking of this was any of the following ahaha

10,18,44, 47-50 😅😅

Thanks so much, lovely! I love this request!

cw: MDNI 18+ smut (p in v), mention of fatphobia

You stood in the dressing room of a store that you didn’t want to go into wearing a dress that no one was ever going to see you in. It was short and black and clung to your body in a way that didn’t feel right. You were so used to covering up your body in baggy clothing that it felt weird seeing every curve. You were always covering it up so you couldn’t even remember what it had looked like.

You had always hated shopping, never being able to find anything in your size and even if you had, it was always somehow too small. It always ended with you crying while you looked at your body in the mirror so you just ended up buying your clothes online to avoid the embarrassment.

Eddie had chosen the tiny number for you, assuring you that you would look hot, but also made sure that you knew that you didn’t have to if you were uncomfortable. You tried to hype yourself up, but all you could hear was the comments that your mother always made.

Is that really what you’re wearing?

You could stand to lose a few pounds.

Are you sure you want to eat that?

People had always made fun of your weight and as much you didn’t want to believe them, how could you not have? It seemed like no matter what you did to feel good in your skin, you couldn’t seem to shake all of the fatphobia you had experienced.

Eddie had been the only one who had made you feel even slightly better about yourself. He always made sure you felt good, whether it was telling you how nice you looked in your clothes, especially when you were wearing something that clung to your body or giving one of your thighs a loving squeeze when you would sit next to him.

He knew that his assuring words and gentle touches weren’t a cure since the wounds were so deep, but he had hoped you knew that he was telling the truth. If anything, your body was just more that he could love. If ever got the balls to make a move.

There was a knock on the door and you panicked, knowing that Eddie was on the other side. You grabbed your jacket from the hook and were quick to throw it on, zipping it up so the dress was completely covered.

“Who is it?” You asked, feeling your heart hammering in your chest.

“It’s Eddie. Can I come in?” You opened the door and he slipped inside, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as his eyes moved to your jacket.

“You okay?” He asked, just knowing that something was up with you. He was always able to read you like a book.

“I’m good,” you nodded, crossing your arms over your chest so you could hide your body even more. “It’s just tight.”

“Oh, do you need to size up?” For once, that hadn’t been your problem. The dress had fit like a glove but you just didn’t have the confidence to wear it. It would end up back on the rack with all the other clothes you couldn’t get yourself to wear.

“It’s not that, it’s tight. You can see the outline of my body. I mean, it leaves nothing up to the imagination.”

“Well now I have to see it.” You slowly unzipped the jacket and shrugged it off, letting it fall to the floor. Eddie’s jaw dropped as his eyes scanned over your body.

He thought you looked fucking hot and couldn’t help but imagine what it would have been like to press his lips to yours while the dress fell to the floor. He had been fantasizing about kissing you for so long.

“You look fucking amazing.” His eyes were filled with something that you couldn’t quite make out and were unsure of what it meant.

“I do?” Your eyebrows furrowed and Eddie just kept staring at the dress, bringing his bottom lip between his teeth, his eyes darkening.

“Absolutely,” he nodded enthusiastically. “You have to get it.” You wanted to, but you were unsure if you could actually go through with it.

“You mean it?” You gave him a small smile and he just nodded again.

“You know I’d never lie to you, sweetheart.” That much was true. Eddie would have never lied to you and you knew that. He was always honest even if the words weren’t what you wanted to hear.

“I’m just afraid of what people will think.” His eyebrows knit together at that. It hurt him hearing that coming from you. He had been trying to work with you on your confidence and you were slowly making progress.

“The only thing that matters is what you think,” he rested his hands on your shoulders. “If you don’t like it, you don’t have to get it.” The more you thought about his words, the more you wanted to make the purchase. You liked the way he was looking at you when you wore it.

“So you really think I look good?” He really did. So much so that he wanted to kiss you. He wanted to press his lips to your neck, hearing pretty moans escape your mouth.

“I mean, fucking hot would be my preferred choice of words.” His eyes got even more dark, filled with lust. He was trying to not think about how hard he was.

“Eddie-” You were caught off guard by how forward he was being. If he had it his way, he would have had his way with you right then and there, but he didn’t exactly think that a dressing room was a place to do it.

“If you don’t buy it,” he stepped forward, resting his hands on your hips. “I will.” He reached up and hooked his finger under your chin, forcing you to look at him. His lips brushed yours briefly before he pulled away.

“Why?” You could hardly get the words out, your brain short circuiting from the different kind of attention you were getting from him. And you were eating it up. You wanted more.

“Because as much as I’d like to see you in it,” he paused, leaning over so his lips were right by your ear. “I’d love even more to see you out of it.” Your face went hot at his words. You had never had anyone say those kinds of things to you, let alone even wanted to actually have sex with you.

As soon as the words left his mouth, you shooed him out of the dressing room and he reluctantly went. You changed back into the outfit you had come in. You then draped the dress over your arm and exited the dressing room, making your way to the counter.

You purchased the dress and you and Eddie exited the store, heading to his van. He opened the passenger door for you, helping you up into the seat before closing the door and heading to the driver’s side.

He started up the van and cranked up the metal tape that he had put in before picking you up. He was driving faster than normal, almost flooring it as he drove and you were just grateful that you had been on an empty backroad as opposed to the busy highway.

You both soon pulled up to his trailer, the two of you sat in silence and you noticed that he wasn’t making any move to exit the van. You turned to each other at the same time. You looked at him in confusion as to why he wasn’t moving and he looked at you with lust filled eyes again.

He leaned closer to you, your faces only centimeters apart. You looked up at him from underneath your eyelashes and he gave you a smile in return. He reached up and moved some hair away from your face before resting his hand on your cheek.

“Can I try something?” He asked, his voice barely above a whisper. You bit down on your lip and nodded, knowing exactly what he was getting at.

“Yes,” you responded and he grinned, his smile reaching his warm brown eyes.

He leaned forward slowly, gently capturing your top lip between his two. Your lips moved together as one as your hands moved to his arms and his free hand rested on your thigh, the space where it usually made a home.

He pulled away before you were ready and smiled at you, resting his forehead against yours. The pad of his thumb rubbed gently along your cheek as your eyes stared into his warm brown ones.

“Eddie, I’m not wearing the dress anymore,” you told him, turning away to stare at the dashboard. He hooked his finger under your chin once more, making you look at him.

“Sweetheart, this has nothing to do with the dress.” He licked his lips. “Can’t you see how badly I want you?” His eyes bored into yours and even though you knew there was truth to his words, you couldn’t quite believe him.

“You want me?” Your eyes widened at that. You looked up at him, tears welling up in your eyes and he could have sworn he heard his heart break at your reaction to his confession.

“Honey, I’ve wanted you since the day I met you.” You had no idea. All the signs were there and you had no fucking clue. He had been so obvious and you had only just now connected the dots.

“You have?” You honestly weren’t sure how to react. No one had ever wanted you, or at least, they hadn’t been so up front about it like Eddie had.

And you wanted him too. He was your best friend and you couldn’t have imagined being with anyone else. He was the one who was always there for you. He had been there for you every step of the way. He had loved you for exactly who you were and you loved him the exact same way.

“I have,” he nodded, his hand moving into your hair. “So badly.” The words came out almost like a whimper.

“I want you too,” you responded, your words running together. He pressed his lips to yours once more, this one more desperate than the first one. His hand wound its way further into your hair, pressing into your scalp. Your hands grasped at his shirt, balling it in your fists as your tongue swiped along his bottom lip.

“A bit eager, are we?” He asked with a chuckle.

“Shut up,” you commanded before diving back in. Your tongue moved back to his lip and he opened up, letting you in. Your tongues swirled together, his hand trailing up your skirt. His other one grabbed a fistful of your hair, giving it a yank and you let out a whimper at the feeling.

“Wanna make that sound again, sweetheart?” He asked, needing to hear it one more time.

“More,” was all you were able to respond and he gave your hair another yank, a little harder this time. A full on moan escaped from your lips and he was desperate to hear more from you. He needed to hear you scream for him.

He pulled away from you, looking into your eyes. He could see that you wanted more, but he felt the need to ask before he continued. He wanted to make absolutely sure that you wanted it as much as he did. That he had your full permission.

“Do you trust me?” He asked, his hand stroking your hair gently.

“Of course I do, Eds,” you nodded.

“Don’t want to move things to the back?” He nodded his head in that direction.

“Please,” you begged. He let go of you completely and you already missed his touch.

“Ladies first,” he gestured to the back of the van with his hands. You slowly got onto your knees in the passenger seat before throwing your leg in between the two seats. You made it into the back safely and Eddie wasn’t that far behind you. The blanket beneath you had been meant for a picnic for the two of you, definitely not for you to have sex.

You moved so close that your knees were touching and he reached for your hands, looking into your eyes. They were soft and warm, the look that had been reserved for you and you alone.

“I know this is your first time so before we do this, I want you to know that you can back out at any time and I won’t be mad,” he brought your hands up to his mouth and brushed them with his lips.

“I’ll be there with you every step of the way, alright? So feel free to do whatever feels natural. Let me know what makes you feel good, what you like.” He pressed a kiss to each hand before interlacing your fingers.

“Okay,” you replied, feeling your heart race in your chest as you realized what you were about to do. You were about to have sex with your best friend. You were about to have sex with Eddie.

“Do you want to move to my lap to get more comfortable?” He asked, rubbing your knuckles with the pads of his thumbs. You looked at him, unsure, your eyebrows furrowing.

“Aren’t I going to crush you?” You knew that you were bigger than him so you didn’t think it was wrong to ask.

“Crush me?” Eddie let out a chuckle. He actually kind of liked the sound of that. “No, honey. You’ll be just fine. Now c’mere.” He patted his lap and you hesitantly moved closer to him. You lowered yourself onto his lap so you were straddling his waist and his hands rested on your thighs, giving them a reassuring squeeze.

“Are you ready?” He asked, gauging your face for any last minute hesitance. Your eyes were lit up with excitement and he could tell that you were just as eager as he was.

“Yes,” you nodded. “I’m ready.”

“I’m just going to kiss you for now, okay? I’m warming you up.” He wanted this to be an enjoyable experience for you and wanted to take his time to make you feel good.

“Okay.” His hands let go of your thighs, moving up to your hips. He pecked your lips a few times before covering them with his once more and they moved in sync while your arms wrapped around his neck. His tongue swiped along your bottom lip and you opened your mouth and he slipped it inside letting it move with your own as his arms wrapped around your waist tightly.

His hands slowly started to trail down your waist and up your shirt, his palms laying flat against your lower back. They were cool and rough, but you liked the feeling, wondering if he was going to leave scratch marks.

“Can I take this off?” He asked, moving his hands to fiddle with your bottom hem.

“Yes,” you nodded eagerly and he slowly pulled it over your head before tossing it to the side. He then attached his lips to yours once more, taking no time to stick his tongue back into your mouth.

His hands were then on your back again, slowly moving them to your bra. His lips pressed kissed to your cheek all the way down to your neck, stopping at the spot below your ear. He sucked lightly on the skin before grazing it with his teeth.

“Oh,” you let out a moan and he loved hearing the sound come from your lips.

“That was a beautiful sound, honey, wanna make it again?”

“Yes,” you whined and his teeth grazed your neck once more, harder this time and you let out a louder moan.

“Oh, Eddie.” He loved hearing his name come out of your mouth in that way. It sounded so filthy and hot and he needed more of it.

“That’s right, honey, say my name.” He diffused the sting with a swipe of his tongue and the sensation caused you to let out a whimper.

“Eddie,” you whined. “Need you.”

“I know,” he gave your lips a gentle kiss. “We’re almost there.” His lips moved back up to yours and captured them in a bruising kiss while he moved his hands up to your bra. “Gonna lay you down, okay? Can I remove this?”

“Yes.” Your eyes were lustful and he loved seeing the look on you. So different from your usual innocent self. He removed his own shirt before he unhooked your bra and threw it to the side then laid you down onto the blanket. His eyes widened as he stared at your naked upper half in awe. His lips parted as he took in all of you; your curves, your breasts, your stretch marks. He always knew you were stunning, but seeing you like this, he was convinced that you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

You had never been naked like this in front of anyone and you hadn’t really been thinking about how it made you feel as Eddie looked down at you. You could see that he was doing nothing but admiring your body, but you just felt so vulnerable.

“Fuck,” he said, the word falling from his lips before he realized what he had said. You quickly covered yourself with part of the blanket, making sure to pull it over your face so he couldn’t see you.

“Hey, don’t go shy on me,” he said gently, trying to calm you down. “You look so pretty like this.”

You pulled the blanket back down slowly so he could at least see your face again. His face was nothing but loving and you could tell he was telling the truth. He thought your naked body was pretty.

“Really?” Your cheeks burned at his compliment and all he could do was chuckle at how adorable you were. Eddie never said anything he didn’t believe.

“Of course, baby,” he assured you. “I’m going to fucking worship you.” His voice was deeper as he said the last sentence, more raspy and your pussy was getting even more wet.

“Worship me?” Your lips parted as you gingerly removed the blanket, laying back down on it. He slowly lowered himself down onto you, gently pressing his lips to yours.

“Worship,” he gave your lips a peck. “You,” he captured your top lip between his two in a brief kiss before moving his lips down your neck in open mouthed kisses. They made their way to your breast and he was quick to swipe his tongue along your nipple before he pulled it between his teeth, giving it a tug.

“Oh,” you let out a moan, louder this time and he took that as an invitation to do it again, but harder. Your moan was even louder, and your hands moved to his back, giving it a hard scratch with your nails. He let out a whimper before moving to your other nipple, giving it the same treatment.

“Oh, Eddie,” you moaned again and he gave one last tug, the hardest he could without actually hurting you and you let out the loudest moan yet. “God, Eddie, please.” Your nails scratched down his back again and he let out his own moan. It was soft but raspy and it sounded so hot.

He moved his kisses down your stomach and he stopped once he got to your skirt. He looked up at you in approval and you looked down at him, your eyes darkening as you thought about what he was going to do.

“Remove them,” you commanded and he kind of liked that you were bossing him around.

“Yes, ma’am.” He slid the skirt down your legs and tossed it behind him and went for your underwear, removing those as well. He looked down at your sopping wet pussy, eating up the fact that it was all because of him.

“Well, look at you, princess,” he looked up at you with a devilish grin. “Didn’t know I could get anyone that wet,” he winked.

“Eddie,” you let out another whine.

“What, baby?” He said the words so innocently, as if he had no idea what he was doing. He loved the idea of making you wait a little longer.

“Need your cock.” You were getting desperate and hated how needy you were starting to sound.

“I know, sweetheart. Just give me a second.” He hurried to his glove box and grabbed a condom before coming back to you. He quickly pulled off his pants, deciding that he had made you wait long enough and tossed them to the side. He then removed his underwear just as quickly, revealing all of himself to you.

You stared down at his cock, realizing that you had never seen one in person. It was bigger than you had imagined, better. He rolled the condom onto his dick and grabbed hold of your hips before lining himself up with your cunt.

He slowly thrusted into you, wanting to be as gentle as possible since it had been your first time. You let out a moan at the sensation, and Eddie leaned over you, that devilish grin making a reappearance.

“You look so pretty under me,” he said as he continued to thrust, picking up the pace. “Prettiest partner I’ve ever had.”

“You say that to all your partners.”

“I don’t because none of them have ever been as pretty as you.” Your cheeks turned even more pink at his compliment. He always knew exactly what to say to make you blush.

“Trying to get into my pants, Munson?”

“Afraid I’m already in them, sweetheart.” He continued to thrust and as much as you were enjoying it, you didn’t think he was being rough enough. You needed more.

“Very funny. Now do it harder,” you commanded.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He didn’t want to risk hurting you during your first time.

“You won’t. Just do it.” He obeyed and pounded into you, causing you to let out what almost sounded like a scream. His dick hardened even more at the sound.

“Oh,” he chucked. “I like the sound of that. Wanna make it again?”

“I will if you go faster,” you promised.

“As you wish.” He pounded into you once more, but faster and you made the exact same sound, only louder. He continued and you let out moan after moan as he went to town.

You grabbed onto him, burying your face into his neck as he continued to pound into you. Your hands went to his back and you scratched it up even more at his actions and he let out his own moans, throwing his head back as he did so.

“Trying to ruin my back, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” you fluttered your eyelashes in innocence.

“Good,” he pressed his lips to yours in a filthy kiss, his tongue taking no time to swirl around yours. “Got one more in you, honey?”

“Yes, Eds.” He pounded into you one more time and you let out one final moan before he pulled out. He discarded the condom and grabbed some napkins from the glove compartment before helping you clean yourself up.

Once you had finished, he pulled the blanket back to reveal another one under it. You both slipped between the two of them and he was quick to pull you to him, bare skin against bare skin. One of his hands moved up to brush some sweaty hair away from your forehead before stroking the back of your head. His other hand rested on your waist while yours went to his chest.

“You did so great, baby girl,” he gave you a sweet smile. “Took me so well.”

“Well, I think you’re just good at it,” you batted your eyelashes. “It definitely lived up to the hype.”

“So you’ve thought about it?” He teased with a wink.

“Oh, don’t pretend you haven’t,” you winked back and he just gave your hip a little pinch, causing you to let out a squeal.

“I definitely have,” he responded, pressing his lips to yours. “And it was well worth the wait.” He pulled you into one more kiss and you were quick to return it, knowing that there would definitely be more where that came from.

[scarlethexelove]

Hii, can you write Jock! Intersex!Carol x virgin (and innocent about sex) reader where they are dating but reader is stressed to do it with Carol because of Carol's past reputation on campus, so the reader thinks that she will be directly rought but when Carol starts touching reader to initiate sex, reader told Carol that she's virgin, and Carol becomes soft and take her time with the reader to not hurt her too much, even if the reader will feel pain during the first penetration (including Carol who doesn't want to wear condoms so reader asks her why and Carol says that she hates it and that condoms kill the feeling of the walls, unprotected sex, breeding, Carol calls reader babygirl/princess )

I'm Ready

Pairing: Carol Danvers x Reader

Word Count: 2752

Warnings: Intersex!Carol, Smut, P in V, Virgin!Reader, Fingering, Oral, Breeding, Soft!Carol, Little bit of degradation, Little bit of a Daddy kink (Said once)

A/n: I'm so sorry I didn't add much of the Jock part but it is mentioned a little. My brain is mush and I'm having a hard time thinking of what warnings there are. Please if I forgot something really important let me know. Hope you like it and sorry it has taken me a bit to get to this. I have been so busy and then got sick.

You turn to walk backwards behind in front of your best friend Wanda. “I think I’m ready.” You tell Wanda her face is puzzled at your words. “Ready for what?” She asks you. You slightly blush at the thought. “I want to have sex with Carol.” You say just above a whisper. “You want to have sex!” Wanda says loudly. “Wanda.” You whine with how loud she was. You look around to see people looking at you making you look down in shame. “I’m sorry Y/n/n. I was just shocked. Are you sure?” She says softly and you nod. Both of you stop walking to talk. “I’m ready. I want it to be with Carol… I think I love her.” You say shyly. 

Wanda can’t help but slap your shoulder excited. “You love her? Oh my god. I’m so excited for you.” Her words make you smile. “Thanks Wanda.” You hug her before pulling back, keeping your arms around her. “You know I will admit that I was hesitant on you dating Carol because of her reputation but I have seen the change in her and in you.” Wanda smiles, hugging you again. 

“You can invite Natty over tonight. I’ll be at Carol’s tonight.” You wink at Wanda. She shoves you as she starts to walk away. “Just don’t have sex in my bed.” You laughed and Wanda winked which caused both of you to burst out laughing. 

You find yourself sitting on Carol’s couch cuddled into her side as you two watch a movie. You keep sneaking glances at Carol which doesn’t go unnoticed by her. She can’t help but smirk. The next time your head turns to look at her she is already looking right at you. Taking your breath away as the light from the tv illuminates her face. “Do I have something on my face baby girl?” She smirks knowingly at you. “N-no.” You mumbler looking down. Your nerves are eating away at you. A finger slips under your chin, bringing you to look back up into her brown eyes. She leans in kissing you soft and slow. 

It takes no time as the kiss deepens and you both become more desperate for each other. You shift your body over into Carol’s lap as her hands grip your hips and your arms wrap around her neck. Her tongue exploring your mouth and a small moan being swallowed by Carol. You can feel her length hardening under you pressing up against your core. When your lungs start to burn you both pull away. Carol starts to kiss down your neck. You’re panting above her as her fingers dig into your hips, grinding up into you. “C-Carol.” You try to get her attention. She keeps kissing and leaving dark reddish purple marks on your neck. “Carol, w-wait.” You mumble out again, but all she does is hum against your neck. “Stop.” You finally manage to say. Carol immediately pulls back looking at you concerned.

“Is everything ok princess?” Carol asks you concerned, her hands cupping your cheeks as she looks at you. “I-I’ve never.” You mumble. “You’ve never what?” Carol questions not quite following along. “I’m a virgin.” You whisper looking down ashamed. It’s silent for a moment. “Y/n/n.” Carol says softly, but you don’t respond. “Princess please look at me.” Your eyes finally drifting back up to your girlfriend's face. Her smile is soft as she looks at you. “Do you want to stop?” She asks you which has you shaking your head. “I want to do this.” She smiles at you. “Are you sure?” Carol questions again not wanting to push you. “Yes.” You nod your head. 

Carol picks you up which causes you to squeak, wrapping your legs around her waist and your arms tightly around her neck. She carries you to her bedroom and gently lays you down on the bed. For someone so experienced and larger than you you expect her to be a bit more rough and uncaring. But she is a total contrast to every word you have ever heard about Carol from other girls' mouths. Always the big jock on campus who could pull any girl she wanted. She is a badass on and off the court. But you have seen a different side than the rumors. Carol is sweet and caring, she has never pressured you for anything. You’ve been together for 3 months now and she hasn’t once asked for sex when you know with others that is all she wanted. 

Carol leans back on her calves as she looks down at you sprawled out on her bed. She pulls her shirt over her head leaving her just her sports bra on. She reveals her beautiful sculpted abs and toned arms. You’re pretty sure you're drooling just looking at her.  She gives you a wink which makes you blush before she is shuffling her basketball shorts off. Her toned thighs are only covered now by the boxers she is wearing, her large bulge confined by the fabric. 

Carol leans down kissing you softly just hovering over you. “If at any time you want to stop, just tell me okay?” You nod your head in understanding. “Baby girl, I need your words.” Carol smiles reassuringly at you. “Yes I understand.” She smiles, pecking your lips. Carol’s hands move to the hem of your shirt and stop looking at you for permission. You nod with a small yes. You sit up helping her with taking your shirt off. Soon your bra follows being thrown somewhere in the room to be found later. You help Carol to finish stripping your clothes leaving you completely naked. You try to cover your body but Carol pulls your hands away. “You’re so beautiful princess, don't hide from me.”

You pull Carol down kissing her which she gladly accepts. She pulls away starting to kiss down your neck nipping and sucking as she travels down. Your breathing picks up the further she kisses down your body. Soft kisses trailing down your stomach down to your thighs. Settling herself there as she looks up at you with a lustful look in her eyes. Your breath hitching as you look at her nestled between your thighs. 

A breath of hot air hits your wet folds as Carol releases a breath sending a shiver up your spine. Your naked body in front of her for the taking. The desire to take and claim you running through her mind. But she holds back only caring for your comfort. Your first time should be special and she wanted to make it the best. She knows she loves you but it does scare her because she has never felt like this for anyone. She only sleeps around and not falls in love but you caught her heart and she wanted nothing but the best for you. 

Carol licks a strip through your folds moaning at your taste. You gasp at the new feeling, so different but so good. She circles her tongue around your clit before wrapping her lips around your sensitive bundle of nerves. She sucks harshly which causes you to moan, your hand flying to her hair and lacing your fingers through her hair. You can feel her smirk against you as she continues to work over your clit. 

Breathy moans escaping your lips as Carol continues to lick and suck. One of her hands trailing up your body as she cups your breast and tweaks your nipple. Her other hand moving between your legs. Your wetness coating her finger as she teases your entrance. She slowly probes her finger at your entrance before slowly pushing one in. Your gasping as your grip on her hair tightens. She slowly pumps it in and out. Working on stretching you out to take her cock, not wanting to hurt you. She slowly adds a second finger, the stretch foreign with very little sting. “Mmm.” A tight grip on her hair as she lets you get used to the feeling. 

You have never felt like this before the pleasure building in your lower stomach as Carol brings you closer to the edge. Her tongue working your bundle of nerves and her fingers thrusting in and out of you, her fingers curling up and pressing into the sensitive spot inside of you. Your moans filling the room as Carol laps at your cunt. “Please.” You whimper as you feel so close to the edge. “I-I think I need to. Mmm fuck.” Your walls clamp down on Carol's fingers as she lightly scissors them inside of you. “A-Ahhh.” The extra stretch is slightly painful but still building you towards your high. “Cum baby girl.” Carol moans against your core, sending you over the edge. Your back arching as your thighs clamp around her head and your fingers tighten their grip. The sting in her scalp caused her to moan. Your cum coating her lower face as she laps at your folds. 

Carol works you through your high her tongue lapping at all the cum you could give her. As she slows down you come back to your senses, your chest heaving. “You did so good princess.” Carol smiles as she pulls back. Your juices coating the lower half of her face which has you blushing. You cover your face with your hands. You feel the bed shift before your hands are pulled from your face. She smiles, leaning down and kissing you roughly. You moan into her mouth when you taste yourself on her lips. This kiss is much more desperate, almost needy. You can feel her hardened length still in their confines pressing against your core. 

A whine escapes your lips the longer you feel Carol’s length pressed against you. “Please.” You mumble against her lips. She pulls back looking you in the eye as she hovers over your body. She smiles at you leaning back as she pulls her sports bra and boxers off her cock springing free as she kicks them off her feet. You lick your lips when you see her cock springs free. She leans back over you and kisses you gently leaning her head against yours. “Baby girl it’s going to hurt at first but it will feel good eventually. If it becomes too much, tell me and we will stop.” She tells you gently her length rubbing through your drenched folds. “I’m ready.” You nod.

Carol lines her length up with your entrance, the head catching lightly as she coats it in your juices. “Carol, what about a condom?” You question as she slowly pushes the head in. You grunt and hold onto her shoulders the sting and fullness just from that little bit already overwhelming. She shakes her head. “It takes away from the feeling. I hate them.” She pushes in more. “F-fuck you feel so good.” You dig your nails into the skin of her shoulders the more she pushes in. “I’ll pull out, I promise princess.” Carol says which has you nodding a tear slipping down your cheek from the painful stretch. 

You can feel the head of Carol’s cock on every ridge of your walls. Her cock slowly fills you full until she has sheathed herself inside of you. As a few tears fall she wipes them gently from your cheeks and kisses you softly, waiting for you to give her the go ahead to move. Your stretched walls feeling every vein and ridge of her cock. The pain slowly dissipates to something more manageable. You wrap your legs around Carol’s hips and grind lightly gasping at the feeling. Carol smirks slowly pulling back before lightly thrusting back in. She keeps a slow pace, her walls still stretching around her cock. 

Small moans fall from your lips as your walls get used to the feeling of being stretched. Carol snaps her hips a little too hard when she thrust which has you whimpering. “Sorry baby girl, so sorry.” She moans. “You just feel so good. So fucking tight.” All you can manage is a nod, words hard to form. Carol slowly builds her thrust up to a nice steady pace. The pain melts into pleasure. 

“Fuck so good for me. This pussy was made for me princess. Wraps around me so perfectly.” Carol grunts the gentle slapping of her hips against yours. Your hips bucking on their own accord the new found pleasure intoxicating to you. “S-so good.” Carol’s head pressed against yours as she continued thrusting. Her eyes fixed on yours watching your face morphing into one of pleasure. Your hands slipping to her back and digging your nails in. She moans at the sting as her hips speed up more. There is still pain mixed with pleasure as she pounds into you. A new feeling you never want to stop. 

Both of your orgasms are building. Carol angles her hips to where the head of her cock brushes against that spot deep inside of you, having you moaning loudly, closing your eyes and dragging your nails down her back. “O-ohhhh.” Your back arching closer as you feel Carol’s chest against yours. Your hurtling towards your second orgasm as your walls flutter around Carol’s length. “Fuck princess your squeezing me so good.” Carol pants above you, her cock twitching as she gets close.

“I’m going to fill this pussy so good. Fucking fill you so full of my seed. Maybe just get your pregnant so you're mine forever.” Carol grunts with every thrust. Your mind turns to mush as you nod along to the words falling from her lips. “Please Daddy.” Your nails are digging deeper into her back, drawing some blood. Not even noticing the words that slip from your mouth. Carol smirks her hips rutting into yours. 

Carol’s hand slips between your bodies reaching your clit and pressing her finger into the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your whimpers and moans echoing off the walls. With the added pressure on your clit you're so close. “Please s-so close.” You whine desperate to cum again. Carol is right there with you. “Cum with me princess.” Carol moans as she thrust a few more times before her hips stutter. Your walls squeezing her length so tight as you cum. Your nails scratching more at her back, your back arching impossibly closer to her. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as your body trembles below her. Carol feeling you cum follows not that far behind you filling you full as her hips twitch. 

You're both panting as you both come down from your high. Your eyes open to see Carol’s wide slightly panicked eyes. Your eyes widening when you realize why her eyes are so wide as you feel her cum dribbling out around her cock. “I-I’m so sorry Y/n. I got carried away a-and you felt so good.” Deep down she actually hoped that maybe you would get pregnant from this but knows that you might not be ready for that. You're quiet for a moment processing what just happened. “I-it’s okay. You didn’t mean to.” You try to reassure her still being panicked since you aren’t on any birth control. 

Carol pulls out of you slowly as you wince feeling a bit sore. “Sorry princess.” Carol says seeing you wince in pain. She gets up quickly going to the bathroom and getting a washcloth to clean you both off. She comes back before gently cleaning you up before she wipes herself off. She throws the washcloth on the floor to clean up later before crawling into bed. You instantly move to curl up into her side, laying your head on her chest. She wraps her arms around you tightly. 

The room is quiet for a few minutes before Carol breaks the silence. “I’m sorry.” She mumbles. You look up at her with your chin on her chest and a small smile on your face. “It’s okay. It felt really good actually.” You blush, hiding your face in her chest which makes her laugh. “I love you.” Carol chuckles until she realizes what she said. You lift your head to look up at her with a smile on your face. “I love you too Carol.” You lean up to kiss her, both of you smiling into the kiss. You pull back, settling back into her arms as you draw patterns on her chest. Both of you are happy to be in each other's arms and in love.

[strwberri-milk]

Midnight Blues

Rafayel x Reader || Mild Insomnia, Comfort || 1 184 words

a/n: my toxic trait is pretending im a singer and compiling songs into albums and naming them and midnight blue is the name of the hypothetical album that encapsulates falling in love with rafayel and i guess i could make a playlist bc thats the normal thing to do but i just name fanficitions after them ig. also this is based off his treasure secret time - idgaf about the mensturation i only care about the fact that hums your ass to rest and the lore drop that is rafayel calling you at night when the two of you first start met bc it would help you sleep

You can hardly remember what nights were like before without the sound of his voice in your ears.

You sigh as you sink into your bed, staring up at the ceiling after doing another quick lap around the house to try and tire yourself out. Your body is tired, you know it is. You just wish that you could sleep, not at all excited about the prospect of having to go to work tomorrow after being unable to sleep all night.

You’re about to start your nightly routine of tossing and turning when your phone suddenly starts to ring. A smile makes its way onto your face as you recognise the caller ID, putting your phone against your ear and humming lightly to alert the other side to your presence.

“You’re still awake, huh?” Rafayel’s teasing tone asks through the phone. The two haven’t known each other long but that didn’t seem to bother Rafayel in the slightest.

“Yeah,” you sigh, putting your phone on speaker next to you on the pillow.

All it took was falling asleep one time in a conversation with him for Rafayel to pounce on that and decide to take advantage of it. You swore up and down that it was a mistake, that it wasn’t because of Rafayel that you fell asleep but deep down you know that something about that silky smooth timbre of his voice made your worries go away. You’d never slept so soundly, mortified at the teasing text that he sent you when you read it in the morning.

However, you had to admit defeat and let the man do whatever he wanted. Even before you met him it was clear that Rafayel didn’t care much for whatever the people around him want. He does as he pleases and now, it seems that he’s convinced you won’t sleep without him talking to you.

“If you wanted me to call you all you had to do was ask,” he says after a while, letting you get settled in bed.

“I’m grown. I can take care of myself,” you reply, Rafayel imagining a slight pout on your features as you did so.

“Ah, I see. So you don’t need me to talk you to sleep then? I’ll hang up then.”

“Wait!” you shout quickly, shooting out of bed and grabbing your phone.

“Don’t…don’t go. Please?”

“Begging now? I guess if you’re that desperate for my company I’ll give it to you.”

You can hear how smug he is, rolling your eyes at how obvious his tells are. You wonder how Thomas hasn’t figured him out yet – Rafayel isn’t nearly as sneaky as he seems to think he is.

“Are you driving?” you ask after a second, settled back into bed again and listening carefully to his end of the call.

“I’m heading back from an exhibition. I could have booked a hotel but I didn’t feel like staying the night there so I’m making the long drive home. I called you to see if you’d keep me company.”

You tug your blankets around yourself, losing yourself in their warmth as you yawn. The exhaustion begins to sit on your shoulders again but this time, it feels more manageable. His voice swims around your head as he starts rambling about the exhibition. You’re glad to hear that it went off without a hitch, having declined his invitation yourself due to a more urgent task of the day.

“Are you even listening to me?” he asks, bringing your attention back to him.

“Hmm? Yeah, sellers bullying you, people hitting on you, same old same old,” you mumble, burying yourself further into your bed.

“If you didn’t like it that much, why didn’t you just make something up to get out of it?”

“I couldn’t bail on Thomas again. I felt bad for him constantly fielding off journalists and this show was supposedly a big deal so I decided to do him a favour. Plus, I blew off all the shows so far this month so I might as well make myself seen at a more important one.”

Leave it to Rafayel to make doing his job seem like a favour to someone else. Even if he acts like he’s got his head in the clouds you know he’s genuinely kind – if you’ve got the patience to go digging through the layers that make up the enigmatic artist. You feel thankful that the world brought you to him, even if you weren’t sure what the budding feeling in your chest is.

“You had a long day, huh? I can hear it in your voice.”

You give him another hum, not wanting to bother with any words.

“Even if I ask you a question you don’t need to reply. It’s getting late and I won’t be home for at least another hour. I really did just want your company you know. I’m glad that you answered my call. It would have been miserable if I had to drive home all alone.”

It doesn’t take Rafayel much time to start rambling at you again. You don’t know how he manages to find anything and everything to say to you and keep himself entertained, laughing at his own jokes and taking the soft noises you make as jumping off points to completely go on a new tangent.

When he hears your light snores and steady breathing, he smiles to himself. The sound of your breath surrounds him in his car and if he weren’t such a responsible driver, he’d close his eyes just to pretend that he’s laying in bed with you.

Normally, Rafayel was perfectly content driving home in silence, finding the long expanse of road the perfect opportunity to ground himself after all of the cameras and people in his face. Honestly, he only left when he did to make sure he’d be able to call you at the same time he did every night. Your inability to sleep well worried him and even if you didn’t fully understand the extent of his feelings towards you, he wouldn’t let that get in the way of taking care of you. You make him happy after all, especially when he hears you try to rouse yourself from sleep in a desperate attempt to show him that you’re listening to him. The mental image of your sleepy eyes trying to focus on his face makes his heart melt, impatiently tapping his finger against the steering wheel at the annoyance of being unable to call you his just quite yet.

Even when he gets home, he doesn’t hang up on you. He’s careful to do his nightly routine quietly, using the sound of your breathing as his favourite symphony and he settles down for the night himself. He even continues to speak to you softly, wanting to make sure that his voice lulls you into a truly restful slumber. He thinks about you a lot and being able to help you in any form always makes his heart feel so full.

He won’t admit that talking to you on these late nights makes him sleep well too, putting his phone on the pillow beside him before falling asleep to thoughts of you.

[alexias-putellas]

the grudge (5) // lionesses x reader

lionesses x reader

part one part two part three part four

…sorry for the long wait. promise i’ll try and keep on top of this from now 🫶

-

leah’s power of persuasion was something you both loved and hated. even more so when it was used against you. because somehow she’d persuaded you to follow your international teammates with her for the final two matches of the nations league tournament.

she called it a welcomed break, told you that it would be good for you to be around other people.

you also hated how well leah knew you. all it took was one well-timed facetime call from the blonde for her to break through your walls and you cried as you told her how horrible you felt for constantly snapping at the barcelona girls, for treating them so horribly when they were doing nothing to deserve it. and you told her how you hated feeling sad and angry all the time because nothing ever seemed to work to fix it.

opening up to leah was easy. it always had been. so when she told you that it was probably a good idea for you to tell the barcelona girls how you were really feeling, you admittedly freaked out. despite the promise you’d made to open up to the girls more, the thought of it terrified you. for reasons you didn’t really understand.

deep down you knew that it was the right thing to do. letting them inside your head would be better for everyone. it was what they wanted. so you approached ingrid one day with the genuine intention of telling her how you were feeling but you chickened out at the last second, and ended up asking if you could join her and mapi for breakfast the next time they went.

you tried to bring it up again when the three of you did go out but again, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. after everything that happened with katie, you hated feeling like a burden. you hated the fact that the girls seemed to walk on eggshells around you more often than not.

but you didn’t know how to stop any of it. whenever your mood lifted, it only ever seemed to be temporary. something would always send you toppling back down and you’d be right back at the beginning and for you, it was one of the worst feelings in the world.

so instead, you told ingrid and mapi about your plans to fly to st. george’s park with lucy and keira to join the england camp. much like leah, they thought that it was a great idea. in fact, everyone you brought it up with did. alexia actually seemed relieved. at first you took offence, thinking that she was happy to be rid of you but upon seeing the look on your face, she was quick to explain that she was relieved that you seemed to be making progress.

progress.

that was the word bouncing around your brain as you, keira, and lucy climbed out of the car outside of the hotel, the cold english air hitting you instantly. you thanked keira when she grabbed your luggage and waved happily at the media team as you passed.

walking into the lobby, your body relaxed unconsciously and you smiled widely upon seeing your international teammates. your happiness only seemed to heighten when you spotted a familiar blonde.

“beffy!” you squealed, moving as fast as you could on your crutches towards her.

“slow down, kid, i’ll come to you.” beth laughed and once she was close enough, you practically threw yourself into her arms, your crutches hitting the floor noisily.

“i’m so glad you’re back.” you whispered.

“me too.”

“so there’s no more problems?”

“no more problems.” beth confirmed and you laughed happily as she rocked you both side to side.

you squeezed her again for good measure and glanced down, frowning at the disappearance of your crutches. your eyes scanned the room, your brows furrowing when you spotted lucy staring at you intently. you quickly grew sheepish when you realised why.

ella had your crutches, seemingly racing grace and maya through the lobby as alex told them to behave. the first and last time someone stole your crutches in barcelona, you may have overreacted just a little.

“come on now tooney,” mary said, approaching the trio that still held your crutches hostage. “she needs them back, we’re heading upstairs now.”

with very visible hesitation, ella begrudgingly gave you your crutches back and you thanked her with a laugh.

“let’s go roomie.” leah held up a room key and you smiled.

“ooh i have missed rooming with you lee.”

keira followed you and leah to your shared room and you thanked her as she placed your belongings on the bed. she quickly left to get reacquainted with georgia and you sat at the edge of the bed, tilting your head at leah. the blonde was fidgeting with her hands, clearly holding something back.

“what?” you asked, making her jump slightly. she looked at you with furrowed eyebrows. “i know you, leah. you have something to say so just say it.”

leah sighed and moved to sit next to you. you immediately noticed that she refused to look at you no matter what you did to catch her eye. “i think katie and caitlin are giving it another go.”

you blinked. “okay.”

her head snapped towards you. “that’s it? don’t you care?”

“of course i care but it’s not my business anymore. what—who katie does in her spare time is up to her. i don’t have the right to be upset about it,” you shrugged. “the same way she has no right to be upset about anything i might do in my spare time.”

a small grin appeared on leah’s lips then. “and what does that mean?”

��nothing. doesn’t mean a damn thing—hey, let’s go find niamh and beat her up with these crutches until she agrees to transfer to arsenal.”

ᡣ𐭩

you closed your eyes, sighing softly as alessia ran her fingers through your hair. there was a nudge to your leg and you were quick to swat in that direction, hearing leah laugh.

“come on you,” she nudged you again. “they need to get ready and we need to find our seats.”

“fine.” you huffed, pushing yourself off the floor with alessia’s help. you smiled at her when she passed you your crutches.

you gave leah a look and playfully jabbed at her ankle with a crutch, laughing as she jumped back. “don’t do that or you can’t have your surprise.”

the girls laughed as you instantly perked up. “surprise?”

leah hummed. “hurry up or it might disappear.”

“…good luck losers!” you called, hurrying out of the lockeroom as quick as you could manage, the sound of leah’s footsteps following.

she quickly took the lead and the the of you navigated your way through wembley stadium in relative silence.

“so where’s my surprise?” you asked as soon as the cold air hit your face and you could clearly see the pitch.

leah rolled her eyes at your impatience and motioned behind her. “there.”

you shuffled over a bit and gasped, seeing who your surprise was. “laura!”

the austrian looked up from her phone, a grin spreading on her face as she spotted you. “hello liebe.”

you shoved your crutches into leah’s awaiting hands, wrapping your arms around laura when she got close enough. “oh i have missed this. i’m coming back next season by the way.”

a crutch clacked against your good ankle and you yelped, letting go of laura to quickly turn and glare at leah. “you are not coming back. we do not need you and kyra running around causing trouble.”

you rolled your eyes and let laura guide you to your seat as the girls made their way out to train. leah took the seat to your other side and laid your crutches on the floor.

“so,” laura started when the three of you settled. “how is spain?”

both blondes immediately noticed the slight blush on your cheeks as you stared down at the pitch. “it’s good. very warm. miss you guys though.”

“aw, we don’t miss you.” leah grinned and you were quick to punch her leg.

as your former teammates chattered over your shoulder, you pulled your phone from your pocket, unconsciously searching for the results of the spain game so you’d have a reason to text ona so late.

as soon as you’d seen that spain had won, you were typing out a message, not really expecting a reply.

but smiling widely when you did get one.

ᡣ𐭩

“good goal, lucia,” you grinned as you hobbled over to lucy. “finally putting that head of yours to good use.”

“you’ve certainly perked up.” she commented and you shrugged.

“what can i say? i just love laura.”

lucy rolled her eyes and tugged you over to join the huddle. the girls murmured nervously as the netherlands game played on a staff members phone.

you were nestled between niamh and esme, staring at the ground, your heart dropping at the next words said loud enough for everyone to hear. “they’ve scored.”

you felt utterly helpless as you watched each girl react. but even more so as lucy sank to the ground. without a second thought, you lowered yourself next to her, resting your head on her shoulder.

“i’m sorry, luce,” you murmured, reaching for her hand and squeezing it. “i’ll get you to the euros yeah? promise.”

and you intended to keep that promise. you’d get lucy and the rest of the girls to switzerland, no matter what.

[hxxsxxngx]

SUNOO 김순우 - INNOCENT ATTRACTION

Word Count 1.0k

Genre : Fluff

Content : brothersbestfriend!sunoo, any gender reader, cuddling, sleeping in same bed… other fluffy stuff lol

Synopsis : Sunoo is your brothers best friend and can’t help but to feel attracted to him.

Authors Note : This is my first sunoo post… p.s. let me know if y’all want me to make a smutty part 2 :)

SUPPORT BY REBLOGGING if you want

Sunoo was constantly at my house. Every day when I got out of class, my brother Jungwon would have Sunoo over. It felt like he practically lived there. But there was something that Jungwon didn’t know. Sunoo confessed his feelings to me long ago.

His confession caught me by suprise given that we never really interacted with eachother besides when he’s at my house, but I will admit that there were many times where I caught him looking at me for longer than he should have been. I can also admit that Sunoo isn’t the ugliest person in the world. The prettiest people are the ones you look at when they don’t notice it. And that is exactly how it went for a few months. I always ignored him because I thought that maybe he just had a weird thing about me and Jungwon is just making up stories to cover up. But as the time passed, Sunoo became more and more bold in his actions.

He started leaving flowers on my desk or bringing me snacks and chocolates. He even tried kissing my cheek once. I knew he liked me so I pretended that I didn’t feel anything at all. That way I wouldn’t be able to tell him to stop coming over or make an excuse that he could come back anytime he wants. I wouldn’t say I have a crush on him, but I definitely liked the attention he was giving me, and I wasn’t going to be the one to tell him to stop.

I still haven’t told Jungwon that Sunoo likes me since the whole situation is still new to me. I want to talk to him, but I have no idea what to say to him or what he will do if I tell him. I think it will be best for me to keep this between us for now and just see how things go from here.

Jungwon was an early bird and Sunoo was a night owl. Everytime Sunoo spent the night in Jungwons room, he would stay up a lot later than him and there would be many times I would get midnight texts from him.

Sunoo:

Hey are you up?

(Y/N):

yeah what is it this time

Sunoo:

Heyyyy don’t be like that :(

Would you like someone to accompany you?

(Y/N):

i am really trying to sleep but if his snoring is that loud then i can make a bed of the floor for you in my room.

Sunoo:

Okay I will be there in a sec

Sunoo slowly creeps out of Jungwons room, making sure to turn the door knob quietly and to not make a sound. Few seconds later I hear a tap at my door.

“That was quick, I havnt even made your bed yet” I said opening the door.

“That’s fine, I can wait”

He makes way into my room and plops down onto my bed. I reach into my closet to grab some blankets to lay on the floor and I notice Sunoo crawling under my covers, getting a little too comfortable.

“You aren’t sleeping there” I snap

All I hear is a groan.

I continue laying out the blankets and crawl into my bed. “Your bed is ready” his eyes are half closed. I roll my eyes and thump his forehead.

“Pleaseee can I stay here? I am already comfortable and warm, and floor is cold and hard” he begs.

“Fine but stay on your side”

He smiles and quickly falls into sleep.

———————————————

About an our or two into the night, I guess I back up a little too far, to where my back is in Sunoo chest. He doesn’t have a negative reaction. Instead he snakes his around under my shirt around my stomach and rests his hand on my tummy. I am not compelled to move it, actually I didn’t mind it at all supprisingly.

My eyes start to fall closed and the feeling of falling asleep slowly becomes stronger. Sunoo seems to be taking a liking to this position so I let myself relax into it. When I feel Sunoo’s warm breath against the nape of my neck it sent shivers down my spine.

“Have I ever told you how good you smell?” he whispers into my ear.

I shake my head and pull away from him, trying to sit up. Before I can Sunoo pulls me back toward him. This causes a small smile to tug at the corner of my lips. “No, I don’t want you to go” he says tiredly. He runs his finger through my hair softly and gently, it is very relaxing to have someone pamper me like this. Someone who genuinely cared for me.

His body is so large and warm, I couldn’t deny that I actually liked cuddling with him. Maybe I do feel something for him. Maybe I have been denying my feeling in fear of ruining my relationship with Jungwon. Maybe it wasn’t just an infatuation. I sigh and rest my head back down. He continues stroking through my hair and he rubs my sides slowly and softly. I feel myself drifting off again. Eventually, we both fell asleep.

[writerslittlelibrary]

Mob!Natasha x daughter!reader headcannons

masterlist

a/n: I figured writing some headcanons was a bit less pressuring, and I enjoyed this so much! I’ll definitely be writing more headcanons in the future :)

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work

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Mob!Natasha who found you when you were just a baby. She heard crying coming out of the closet after she had just killed her target. Turns out, he had already found his next victim, you. Luckily, Natasha was just in time to save you from that horrible life and raised you herself

Mob!Natasha who raised you in the safety of her Russian home. Protected, hidden, and far away from the dangers of the world

Mob!Natasha who only allowed Melina, Alexei, and Yelena to see and know about you the first 5 years of your life

Mob!Natasha who started training you for active combat the moment you could stand, wanting you to be able to protect yourself, should you ever end up being mixed into one of her ‘jobs’

Mob!Natasha who loves you more than anything in the world, getting you whatever you want whenever you want it, yet still making sure you’re not becoming a spoiled brat

Mob!Natasha who puts her trusted bodyguard, Bucky Barnes, on any and every outing you go on. You leave the house for a walk? You better count on the fact that Bucky is coming. You want to go shopping? Don’t worry, Bucky will simply come to help you carry your bags. You want to have dinner with someone? Bucky will simply sit a few tables away from you, giving you privacy yet keeping a close eye on you

Mob!Natasha who is terrified when your existence becomes known after you and her are spotted going for a little shopping trip. She will upgrade her security everywhere, putting multiple bodyguards by your side every time you leave the house. Of course, she still trusts that Bucky is the best at keeping you safe, but just to be sure, you get a few more of her men

Mob!Natasha who sometimes allows you to sit in on her meetings, letting you sit next to her, or on the ground, whichever you prefer. It’s not like any of the people she is meeting with can say anything. That is if they want to keep their lives of course. Sometimes, if you forgot to bring something she will slide you her notepad for you to doodle on, or she’ll just stop the entire meeting and order one of her men to fetch you whatever you wish. She gets to decided how her meetings go, of course

Mob!Natasha who knows you adore her henchwomen more than anything. Your personal favourite is Natasha’s assistant, Maria. You know her and your mom have some more going on. You are not blind to the lingering touches and the sneaky looks they send each other. Of course, you are a big fan of Carol. She is just so cool and nice to you, even though she can kill someone with basically a glare. To you, she is the sweetest human on the planet

Mob!Natasha who knows you adore your aunt Yelena more than anyone on the planet. Because of that, she makes sure Yelena gets the opportunity to visit more than enough. Everytime Natasha has to leave for a slightly bigger ‘job’ she simply calls Yelena to keep you company. Natasha knows you don’t need a babysitter anymore, but she likes the idea of you not having to be lonely. Besides, it is much safer for you to be accompanied by your aunt Yelena

Mob!Natasha who knows how much you adore playing board and cards games, so she told her people to never deny you a game, were you to ask. Luckily, you mostly gravitate towards Carol and her girlfriend Valkyrie, and who were they to deny you a game? They loved your company, and they loved playing your card games with you

Mob!Natasha who, when you start dating someone, runs thousands of background checks, does hundreds of checkups throughout the day, and makes sure to give whoever you decided to date a little talk, letting them know exactly what’s waiting for them were they ever to hurt you

Mob!Natasha who had the best private tutors coming to your home to teach you everything you needed to know, giving you the highest level of eduction you’d ever need

Mob!Natasha who knows that you are financially set for life, but who still allows you to go to college if you would ever want to. Of course it would be an expensive, high security private school, but still

Mob!Natasha who takes you on the multiple holiday trips during the year. You want to go to Spain? Pack your bag because Natasha will have planned a trip next week. Obviously you both will simply take her private jet, but she needs a week to book some fancy holiday home for you two to stay at

Mob!Natasha who, despite her fortune, often books small, low budget holiday trips. Everyone knows those small holiday homes are the best and the cosiest. What kind of mother would Natasha be if she didn’t give you that experience?

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