#pretty much gone with the anime finished

[love-is-a-pearl]

Thinking about how Dawn was very clearly established as a member of the Pokémon Journeys Quartet and yet she was never in any of the character returns after her own and never showed up after the Leon fight.

Like- we could’ve gotten Dawn reuniting with Iris or meeting the Alola Class for the first time. It’s such a missed opportunity I’m ngl.

I KNOW QAQ she got lucky to at least talk to Cynthia

Can you imagine if they had used her cameos to instead of showcasing legendaries, to showcase past companions???? Like, it could even make easier for Goh and Chloe to fit in and all that yknow?

Like, we get Gary in sinnoh doing some research for project mew (take the alolan ninetails thing and give to him) and she is there, and it makes easier for Goh to see him as a rival but also as a cool dude cause hey, if Dawn really likes Gary, he cant be that bad right?

We get her and Serena getting ready to meet May for a contest or something and then DAWN brings Chloe into it cause it makes more sense that way. And I get Dawn doing /something/ but also we stabilish that Serena takes inspo from her appeals and thats how they met (cause Serena did a thing that looked like ice chandelier and thats canon in my heart)

Have her appear before Iris left or keep Iris in the tournament watching Ash (why did she leave anyway?) so they could both cheer for him like the biggest supporters they are.

Scrap any of the useless Mezamas episodes and replace it with Dawn getting Ambipom and have the 2 most epic pokeani encounters of all time (Dawn and Ambipom, Dawn and Misty).

There was so many chances for her to just add so much in general. And we were robbed and Im still sad

[kaaaaaaarf]

So I watched that episode of Our Flag Means Death where Ed finds the bunny and thinks it's a wolf and thought, what if Remus was a wererabbit and Sirius had no idea? Anyways, have a drabble.

Here I Am (a rabbit-hearted boy)

Hogwarts Era. 654 words. Wererabbit Remus. G.

Remus' floppy ears twitch unhappily. He had been so careful—so careful not to let his friends see the monster he becomes every full moon. He thought he was sneaky, when he made his way out of the castle before dinner—after the other boys had already left for the Great Hall, but here is Sirius, standing above him with wide eyes. He'd seen the whole thing, the whole transformation—running into the clearing before Remus could even shout at him to stop. Before his body bent and twisted violently into a monster.  Remus' tiny body shakes in fear. Finally, after an impossibly long moment, Sirius seems to come back to himself. "R—Remus? Are you—you're a werewolf?"  …I'm a what now? 

"I thought maybe you were upset about Snape ruining your Potions final when you didn’t follow us down to dinner, so I came back to find you and saw you sneak out of the castle. I decided to  follow you, but I didn't think...Oh my God. You're so...so...cute."  Remus' nose twitches in a way that he thinks sufficiently expresses his shock and distaste. He’s not cute. He’s fearsome! An abomination! Sirius, unafraid, crouches down and strokes a gentle hand over the tawny fur on his back.  Okay, well Remus doesn't hate that.  Sirius scratches behind one floppy ear, and it makes Remus’ back foot twitch. Sirius smiles. "Are you a friend, wolf? Merlin, wait til I tell James about this! Our Moony—a real bloody werewolf!" and then as quickly as he’d appeared, he's gone, running off back toward the castle. It's just as well, Remus is dangerous like this. As much as he would love some company on the moons, one bite is all it would take and he could turn Sirius, too. He couldn't live with himself. Remus has just finished snacking on some grass, and is just about to hop into the underbrush to play chase with the rabbits of the Forest, when Sirius comes running back, this time with James in tow. Great. "See James! That's Remus, he's a werewolf!"  James, who is bent over trying to catch his breath, looks up at him like he's stupid. "That's a rabbit, Sirius." "No...I saw him transform—that’s Remus. He's a werewolf." "At best that's a wererabbit." He looks down at Remus, his face twisted in thought. "Sorry Remus, just a sec. Sirius—" he looks back up at the other boy, pinching the bridge of his nose. “—have you ever actually seen a rabbit before?" "Well, not precisely...Grimmauld is in the middle of London, not exactly teeming with rabbits and the like." "Babbity Rabbity? Surely you've read Babbity Rabbity at least." "I'm pretty sure Babbity Rabbity would never make it into the Black family library. Not macabre enough." James sighs. "Okay well, I’m telling you that's a rabbit." James points down at him, and Remus twitches his nose, hoping it conveys how tired he is.  Sirius stomps his feet, insistent. “But his last name is Lupin, not Lapin! He's Wolfie McWolf, not Bunny McRabbit!” “I’m pretty sure his name has nothing to do with which were-animal decided to take a chunk out of him, Sirius!” Remus tries to hop away while they’re fighting, but Sirius spots him and scoops him up into his arms. “Oh no you don’t! Come on Remus, I’ll sneak you back into the castle—get you something to munch on. What do rabbits eat, anyway? Hay? Flowers?”  Human flesh.  “They eat grass and, like, carrots. Good call though, better get him inside before an actual wolf spots him. Come on, Remus.” And that’s how Remus finds himself, a few hours later, in a soft bed, snuggled under the covers with Sirius’ hand gently resting on his furry back. He supposes being found out isn’t so bad, and if he wakes up in the morning—human again, Sirius spooning against his back, he thinks that might actually be even better.

[bi-writes]

mmm. being the final girl in ghost's slasher movie (dark!ghost x curvy!fem!reader, 18+)

his laughter shakes you to your core. you're cornered, in the very back bedroom under the bed, staring at the dull gaze of your roommate as she bleeds out on the floor.

she's gurgling. she coughs up mouthfuls of blood, and they trail down her neck like a spider web until it pools underneath her head, making the strands of her hair red and sticky. the slit across her throat sputters, and you watch as the white painted bones on the back of his gloves drips with the pretty crimson color. if it wasn't so cruel, if it wasn't blood, it might be artistic.

he takes a thumb and smears the blood over her skin. he draws shapes into her forehead and then both of her cheeks, and you clamp a hand over your mouth to stop from crying as she gasps, reaching up with a shaky hand, halfheartedly trying to push him off, but she's too weak.

he hums when he finishes, and your eyes well up with tears when he knocks her head to the side so she's facing you. he's written three words on her face, one word on her forehead, and then the rest on her cheeks, in her own blood.

I SEE YOU

you scream when he shifts, grabbing onto your ankles and yanking. you claw at the hardwood floor, trying desperately to get away from him, but it's no use. he has you, he found you.

no matter where you go, you've never been able to hide. no matter how far away you think you've gone, it never matters. no matter how long you go without hearing from him, it isn't a comfort, because that usually means the inevitable is coming.

he will never leave you alone. you will never get away. he will find you, he will have you, and every time you escape, it is always just him giving you the illusion of freedom, when in reality, he can have you as easily as he did before.

"givin' me a right headache, luvvie," he murmurs, flipping you over with not so much as a grunt and sitting on your hips. you squirm under him, but this behemoth of a man isn't something you can just push off of you. he's big and heavy, and with all his gear on, he must be thirty pounds heavier. you eye the gun strapped to his chest, but even at this distance, you know it won't matter.

ghost cannot die. that's how he got his fucking name. you've sunk a knife into his stomach before, you've shot him once, you've pushed him off of cliffs and down elevator shafts and watched him sink to the bottom of the fucking ocean, but he cannot die, he won't die, he will never leave me.

"fuck you," you spit, and he chuckles, pulling one of his throwing knives out of his boot and using it to pop the first button off the front of your shirt. it clatters somewhere in the bedroom, and ghost snarls when he sees the lace of your bra.

"expectin' someone?" he growls. "oi! look at me."

you glare up at him, tears sliding down your cheeks, and he uses the sharp edge to pop the rest of the buttons off, your shirt in tatters as it lays loose around your arms. he grunts as he sneaks it under where the cups meet, pulling upwards until he cuts the lace in half. you mewl when your tits bounce, falling free, and his pupils dilate.

"mmmm..." he pushes his mask up, leaning down, and you arch your back when he wraps his lips around one nipple and suckles. you reach up without thinking, your hands finding the back of his head and cradling it as he practically feeds on the fat of your breasts. "know how much you like tha'..."

you whine, and he lets go, pushing the front of his mask into your cheek, licking the skin. you scrunch your face, dirty fucking animal, and he mouths at your jaw.

"'f y'were just a good girl, wouldn't hafta do this," he taunts. you squirm when he lowers himself again, paying attention to the other breast and sucking it into his mouth. "y'make me do it, swee'eart. make me hurt sorry muppets...they're keepin' y'from me. and y'know tha' isn't allowed."

you cry out when he flips you over under him. he shoves your face into the floor, tangling his hand into your hair and yanking on it so that you're looking at your dead roommate, her eyes dull and lifeless as she lays there turning cold.

"look wot y'did," he growls. "look wot y'made me do."

she looks sort of pretty. she did annoy the shit out of you, you won't lie. she looks happier this way. quiet, relaxed, still. it's cathartic, to know that maybe this is what she was meant for. to die, that was her purpose. it makes a little sense.

"'m sorry," you whisper, and ghost loosens his grip on your hair. "'m sorry..."

he kisses the side of your neck, laughing a little.

"now y'r sorry," he says, amused. "y'r mine. when are y'going to learn tha'?"

you put your palms onto the floor, trying to turn over. he eases his weight up to let you, leaning down and putting both hands on either side of your head as he looks down at you. you meet his eyes, sniffling, and you shake your head.

"w-was scared."

"scared?" he tilts his head to the side, licking over his teeth. "scared of wot? would do anythin' for ya."

"i-i know," you sniffle. "just...n-never had anyone that...that would. i-i...i've never had anyone s-so good to me."

he grins, and you shiver a little, but not from fear.

"awww," he shakes his head. "y'r a bad liar, luv."

"i'm not lying--!"

he leans down, licking over your bottom lip, and you whimper.

"prove it," ghost rasps, and you blink up at him, swallowing hard. you push on his chest a little so he eases off of you, and you hook your thumbs into your jeans and shimmy them off. ghost watches carefully, his eyes flickering when you lay bare underneath him, and you bring your knees up before letting them fall. he licks his lips, his grin widening, and he meets your eyes when he sees what he likes. "bloody hell, y'r soaking the fuckin' floor, swee'eart."

you bite your lip, a little shy, and he grips your throat firmly before tugging you up to meet him. he presses a chaste kiss to your cheek, stroking your sweaty hair and humming low.

"y'r gonna run again, aren't ya, baby?"

you nod, closing your eyes, and you let a soft moan slip out when he settles between your spread legs, pressing his pelvis to yours. you feel that familiar hardness, digging into your sex, and you can't help the grind of your hips, wanting to get closer, needing to have more of him. he might be the craziest motherfucker you have ever known, and it's a shame he fucks like a pornstar.

you open your eyes, reaching down, and he smiles wickedly when you unzip his pants, shoving them low until his cock is free. like he knew this would happen, he's been leaking into his boxers, and when you pull him out, the tip is red and wet.

you squeeze your thighs around his waist when he sinks into you, grunting when his thighs press to yours, burying himself deep. you cry, your back bowing sharply, and he smooths his gloved hand down your bare stomach, licking his lips when he trails streaks of blood down your soft skin.

"'s olright," ghost mutters, "quite like chasin' ya. makes y'r cunny taste better. makes y'so fuckin' tight, too, fuck--"

"yeah--" you gasp, and he smiles again, disgusting, filthy, murderous, terrifying.

"say it. say it, and maybe i'll forgive this lil' stunt, and maybe i'll let y'cum." your eyes roll back, and he grips your face tight. "oi! say it!"

"i'm yours! fuck--yes! i'm yours..."

[bywons]

✧ YOU BELONG WITH ME ENHYPEN—

╰—— 𝗈𝗋 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗋𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇

( ✶🪽 𝓢. ) 𝖾𝗇𝗁𝗒𝗉𝖾𝗇 x 𝖿! 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 g. 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗈𝗇𝗌, 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 1796 𝒘𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌 !𝗃𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌𝗒, 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉, 𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 ✦ ◞ 𝒞ATALOGUE?!

๑´ ³`) ﾉ pls leave feedbacks if u liked it ♡ REBLOG !!

LEE HEESEUNG tightens the grip around your waist and pulls you in until you bump by his side. you could easily figure out the fake smile plastered on his face, holding you tight by his side in front of his friends. 

“so, is he more handsome than me?”, he whispers as soon as his friends are gone. it took you a couple of minutes to realise why he had a death grip on you, “you seem to like him a lot.” a single conversation with him has heeseung going tomato red now.

“what do you think?”, you scoff, looking him dead in the eye. 

“he's got the old fashioned looks, a proper gentleman with a perfect sense of timing. your kinda guy,” his eyes twitched while defining the guy, oh how bad he wanted to punch him.

“you know, you sound like one of my friends with terrible taste trying to set me up on a blind date”, you laugh, wrapping your hand around his suited biceps. “yep,” heeseung scoffs, “he will go blind soon.” 

“what do you think of me—?” 

“i love you a lot”, you roll your eyes and chuckle, now walking side by side with heeseung, his grip still present on you, “nobody can replace my bambi boy.” 

“your bambi boy huh?”, heeseung realises he can never be angry with his pretty girl when he melts the second he hears his nickname by you, pressing a small kiss on your cheeks and pulling you in. 

“you want it to be somebody else?”, you smirk.

“hey!” 

PARK JONGSEONG keeps a steady frown on his face, watching you finish up your pastry. he's not the type to sulk over things, if there's any problem the first thing he does is talk it out with you, and maybe have a small ice cream date later. but it's been 4 days now, that stupid frown won't leave his face, accompanied with his cold replies, even on this café date!

“is something bothering you these days?”, the fork softly clings against the plate, you try to hold in a giggle, “babe you know can tell me anything,” his sulky face is kinda cute.

“nope, i'm all good,” jay forces a smile. red flag, he's not calling you ‘love’.

“jay, you haven't even touched your pudding,” you sigh.

jay puts on a good serious thinking face, slowly withdrawing his hands from the table and releasing a deep sigh. this thing looks really serious. oh poor jay, what's wrong?

“well”, jay clears his throat before he goes off, “i really didn't think you were like this y/n i didn't expect this from you, if i did something wrong you could've just said that you know how much i love you i would do everything!”

“jay, what are you—”

“and the fuck kinda name's benjamin anyways? like hell we're not in the 19th century, y/n you could do better.”

oh. so that's what it's about. he thinks you're cheating on him, because you left your shared apartment for some benjamin guy for 3 days straight. you don't blame him though, you owe him an explanation.

“babe,” you sigh, “it's not what you think, remember benjamin? my cousin sister's child? i visit her to babysit him.”

“.....the one who called me uncle?”, jay's expression softens, instead he's shocked now.

“yeah!”, you giggle, putting your hand over his for comfort, shooting him a sorry look. “i hate that kid”, jay scoffs, you sigh.

SIM JAEYUN lets out a groan while he stares at the anime plushie in your arms. you're basically burying your face in it snuggling it, and if that wasn't enough the plushie is a man!

no way jake has to compete with a fictional man now.

“why do you need that ugly plushie when im here…”, jake whines, plopping down right beside you and scooting even closer, “am i not good enough?”

“did you just call toji fushiguro ugly?”, a frown casts upon your face as you whip your head around to shoot a glare at your boyfriend. poor him, he's too confused and jealous for this, he really wants to replace the plushie in your arms. “you're out of your mind jake.”

“i am in fact very willing to be out of my mind and be crazy for you,” jake rolls his eyes, shifting closer to you until there's only a pillow between you and him, which he soon throws away. the fresh smell of laundry and cologne floats from his sweatshirt and hits your nose, it always puts you at ease, and you miss the warm afternoons with him, just snuggling and all over each other, giggling over random past memories. “but i know for sure that plushie will…not do that for you,” jake breaks you from your trance.

“how about you show me that?”, you wink at him. heck, have you been staring at him too long?

“now you're talking”, jake smirks, snatching away the plushie from you as he sets it aside, practically throwing himself on top of you, engulfing you within his strong arms to press a series of kisses on your face, “fuck that ugly plushie.”

PARK SUNGHOON sighs, entering your shared bedroom with a bored face and arms folded. some obvious yet subtle signs he's disappointed by you, but the last disappointing thing you remember you did was eat his tiramisu. what crime have you committed now?

the bored expression quickly turns into a playful one as he clears his throat, tilting his head to one side, “are you resisting the urge to kiss and make up with me right now?”

“no not really”, you answer instantly, typing away on your laptop. but then you realised what he actually just said. with squinted eyes and a smile, you turn your head towards him, “kiss and make up? what exactly happened for us to do that?”

“i think it's about time you stop texting your best friend”, sunghoon sits down beside you giving you the meanest eye roll ever. he scoffs, “i don't get why she hates me and you don't do anything about it. it's like you two backbitch about me.”

“you won't believe it but i actually rant about you all the time to her”, you giggle, sunghoon's cheeks blooms from underneath, “she's sick of my extreme love for you.”

you let out a gasp as sunghoon pulls you in his lap, a coy smirk playing around his lips, “she should be. everyone should know i'm the best boyfriend in the world.”

you hook your arms around his neck and pull him closer, “so was the kiss and make up part just an excuse to kiss me.”

“maybe”, sunghoon chuckles, pulling you in for a chaste kiss, “who knows.”

KIM SUNOO stares straight into your phone screen, while listening to you ramble about your day and how it was. and when it glows to reveal the lock screen, sunoo feels infuriated.

“seriously now y/n, i can't believe this!”, sunoo's sudden shift in position causes your head, which was lying on his shoulders, to hit the bed frame, “like this is too much”, he seethes.

you utter a small ‘ouch’ and rub the hurt spot, a confused “what?” leaving your mouth, “wh-what do you mean?”

“you know what i mean, love”, he rolls his eyes, taking your phone and holding up the lockscreen in front of your face. it's not him. it's a random tv show character that he doesn't even know about. it should be him, it must be him, not a guy he doesn't know. “am i really being robbed of my wallpaper privileges?”, he sighs.

you let out a heavier sigh, putting up one of those smiles sunoo can't help but blush to. “don't you worry, love. maybe i don't want other girls to perceive my man. but if you're begging for it, i'll change it”, you giggle.

sunoo let's a sigh of relief and scoffs, “i'm not begging—”

“on one condition though, my head hurts!”

“aww come here, let me kiss it better”, he smiles, pulling you in again.

YANG JUNGWON literally just spawns right behind you as soon as the guy you're talking to at your friend's birthday party decides to make a move on you.

“go find someone who's not taken dude”, jungwon's eyes are green as he spits his words out, your waist already accompanied by his hand. the poor guy leaves in a hurry, not wanting to mess with the intimidating yang jungwon.

jungwon then turns to you, a shadow over his face, he's obviously upset about this, jealous even. “if you were that bored you could've called me”, jungwon mumbles.

“you were in the restroom, ‘won”, you sigh, placing a hand on his broad chest you pout, “are you…jealous—?”

“of course i'm jealous, i leave my pretty girl alone for one minute and some hipster comes and thinks he can have my girl?”, jungwon pauses for a moment to look into your cresent eyes looking up at him, you're smiling, “no. fucking. way.”

“well, it's good for you that i'm yours and only yours”, you reassure him, planting a soft kiss on his cheek and you have his breathtaking smile back. he grins at you before kissing you back, “now let's go home, i hate this party.”

NISHIMURA RIKI follows you around like a lost puppy after the dance class with his heart in shatters. just an hour ago, your dance teacher assigned partners for the upcoming festival. and it just looks like the universe is definitely not on riki's side cause you two were not paired.

“listen i'm gonna tell mrs. lee to make you my partner and i'm very sure she will listen, trust me! because you can't just—”

“riki, it's okay! it's just a project it'll be over till next week!”, you comfort your boyfriend ‘cause you know mrs. lee is a tough case, she won't crack at all. “besides, we'll be practising in the same hall.”

“exactly! that way that asshole can tease me how he got you”, riki sighs, plopping down on the benches, “i want to dance with you.”

“and i want to dance with you”, you sigh, sitting down beside him, “but you know mrs. lee would never rearrange.”

riki pulls you in a tight hug. he breathes in the vanilla scent of your hoodie before pulling back, gazing into your eyes, “if that dumbass holds you by your waist, i will go insane.”

“i won't let him do that”, you laugh, hitting his chest.

“can't we just drop out of this already? we can be the audience instead”, riki whines.

“i agree, kissing in the audience and booing them would be way better”, you nod your head. niki laughs, “you're the best girlfriend.”

© bywons, 2024. do not copy, translate or upload any of my works without my permission.

📌:: TAGLIST IS OPEN ! nets. @/k-labels tags! @dollyos @leaderwon @dimplewonie @wonfilms @heartswonn @jwonistic @aaa-sia @ashtxrie @kgneptun @flwrstqr @haechansbbg @river-demon-slayer @in-somnias-world @teddywonss @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @mylstserenade @branchrkive @aishigrey @nctislifue @greyminyoon1 @ro-diaries @rikibun @sleepyxxhead @belowbun @belovedsthings @moond1or @oddracha

[maxwellatoms]

In one of your last answers, you said “series reboots are usually pretty gross and sad”, and I was wondering if you could expand on that? Assuming “reboot” covers any kind of continuation of a currently cancelled or finished show (and maybe that’s the wrong assumption!), from the outside looking in it feels like a pretty mixed bag. On one hand, if I love XYZ Show, it’s cool that I get more stories with these characters and another chance to support XYZ Show and its creators. On the other, it definitely feels like a lot of ideas can only get funding if they’re tied to something already, meaning creatives are having to now tie whatever cool idea they have to some reboot/relaunch/retread, which can feel pretty disheartening if you don’t want to do a reboot/relaunch/retread. Is that a similar feeling from your side of the industry?

Thank you so much for all your answers and insight!

Usually reboots and spin-offs are just cash grabs. It happens a lot in animation. In fact, I would argue that the entire industry is just one big cash grab now. In the 80s, everyone complained that cartoons were just half-hour commercials for toys. And they were right. And we're right back there, but now that you can't legally push toys all day, it's just general "IP". Mugs, posters, more spinoffs, whatever.

I was offered three show running gigs over the pandemic. All reboots that I would consider unwise to pursue because they were "of a different time" and didn't (in my opinion) have anything more to say. Two of them were properties created by notorious sex pests, so there's also that. The animation industry loves to prop up its sex pests.

I turned all of them down, partially because I didn't respect the original creators but also because none of them had anything going for them except just being "more of the same".

I don't think any of those projects survived the intervening years, so in retrospect I maybe should've taken the job. I'd probably feel a bit gross, but at least I'd have floors in my house.

The entertainment industry is in a bad spot. The whole thing. I've had I don't know how many pitch meetings in the last few years, and they all start the same way:

"Hey! Before we start, we just want to let you know that we're not actively producing anything right now. We think maybe soon, but we won't be picking anything up today..."

And then later:

"The little we are doing is IP, so if you have a new take on our IP or a new IP you're connected to that you can bring in, that'd be great."

I always wanted to make original stuff. There came a time when I'd had my fill of Billy & Mandy and wanted to do something else new and original. That never manifested, and I was constantly being offered IP to produce. I turned too many of those down, maybe, before deciding that it was probably better that I run the IPs that mean something to me rather than having some hack do it.

But now those jobs have all gone to celebrities and fallen live-action writers, who are also slowly being eaten by the system. WB was hot for Scooby stuff a few years back, so I pitched some ideas. A few of them were turned down for being "off-brand" in a variety of ways. WB has now made (I think) all of those off-brand shows (or something close) with celebrity show runners.

I was going through a whole Midlife Impostor Syndrome thing recently where I was wondering if maybe I don't just suck. Like, it's weird that for a couple of decades I'd have people calling me trying to get me to run shows, and now nobody will call me back about the possibility of a design job.

Talking to some friends and realizing that they were in a similar situation helped me feel like I wasn't alone. That was nice. Talking to some of the most talented colleagues in my industry made me made me realize that those people weren't getting jobs either. That was unnerving. Talking to complete strangers in other parts of the entertainment industry now has me thinking that the whole house of cards is coming down. That's real concerning, yo.

It's hard not to think it's purposeful, when deranged billionaires own the entirety of our media and want to shape a society where they can't be criticized. We're letting wealthy tech bros firebomb the very heart of our culture, and it's weird that no one is talking about it. Because (for now) we still have that capability.

[whereonhermitcraftisjoel]

joel and iskall go through a breakupo (???) and iskall begins his yandere ex gf arc around 4 hours and thirty something minutes in.

This week on hermitcraft: the anime: the harem isekai protaganist joel is being lusted after by at least five different people

I really can’t overstate how weird this is, and how thirty four minutes long it is. I wanted to cut it down but there's never thirty seconds w/out Joel (or Jimmy) talk. I guess I’ll put some clips on youtube? I haven’t even finished all my weird flirty mcc clips (including iskall/jimmy)

Real quotes:

Joel: "Secret relationship???" Iskall: "Do you not love me?" Joel: "Not like that, we're just friends." Iskall: "I just got friendzoned?" Joel: "Deal with it."

Iskall's Crazy Ex Arc Twitch link , 04:26:00

(he also does youtube vods so hopefully it will wind up there)

Timestamps:

04:25:47 - Joel logs on and heads to Iskall Iskall claims it’s all cool ha ha it’s a prank he’s fine 04:31:15 - Joel is gone, threatens restraining order over chat 04:34:55 - Iskall declares his Jimmy arc 04:37 - Iskall is trying to frame Etho 04:39 - Iskall starts writing crazed letters and sending them 04:44 - Joel is back 04:47 - Etho reference 04:54 - Joel leaves for good 04:55 - Iskall brainstorms ways to be very weird about Joel 04:58 - Iskall worried people won’t get the joke is he gets too weird about Joel

(some of the screenshots or my summary may have gotten a bit out of order)

Summary: Joel is back from Japan and has seen all the mail from Iskall. He logs on, Iskall starts flirting. Iskall tells his chat that ha ha it's all funny Joel doesn't realize it's all funny.

Iskall explains why he thought he and Joel were in a "secret relationship" because of a prank and note Joel left him. Joel says it was not him. (His chat says it was False.) Joel seems utterly baffled and friendzones him. Iskall is also baffled.

Iskall: "Do you not love me?" Joel: "Not like that, we're just friends."

Iskall: "I just got friendzoned?"

Iskall gets weird in chat, with Gem shouting and begging to get banned, Iskall sends Joel... crazy ex letters, I guess? I'm not screenshoting those, too many images, probably in his next ep.

Iskall declares he's moving on to his Jimmy arc, with his beautiful hair and eyes.

(Note: Iskall and Jimmy spent a bunch of time together for the Hermit Charity Stream. Maybe Iskall saw him with others and said, "Oh I can get much more homoerotic with hermits, huh." I'm new to Iskall but my friends say his obsession was never quite so... romantic framed.)

The previous day, on MCC, Iskall's first in three years:

Iskall somehow thinks he can pin anything here on Etho.

Iskall then tries to hire Joel to do armor stands and to sell him an apartment. Throughout all this, Etho is brought up several times.

I recommend keeping Iskall's chat up, it's not overwhelming and pretty fun. I've got some more chat quotes below the cut

[dykenav]

okay hear me out. tlt animated adaptation BUT it starts with harrow the ninth. we have a desperate housewives-esque voiceover narration speaking in second person. the audience doesn’t know about anything that happened in gtn and doesn’t know that the “flashbacks” didn’t actually happen. first season ends with harrow finding palamedes in the river and the voiceover saying “you never could have guessed that he saw me.”

SECOND SEASON. we’re following the events that happen in gideon the ninth. there’s no more voiceover. nothing that happened in the first season is even mentioned. it’s not explicitly clear that we’ve gone back in time but it becomes more clear as the season progresses. lyctorhood wasn’t really fully explained in the first season either, but there were clues that become more obvious as the mystery unfolds. season ends pretty much exactly like the book ends, bringing us to the moment that the first season started.

THIRD SEASON. starts where the first season left off, follows the end of htn. Gideon desperate housewives voiceover is back.

fourth and fifth seasons would follow nona and alecto, obviously, but the format of them would have to be equally confusing and weird so I need to wait and see what alecto is like before I theorize on that.

or the show could just end after the events of harrow finishes and leave nothing wrapped up or explained. I honestly kind of like that better

[atlabeth]

price of dreaming

series masterlist

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader

summary: luke's spiral and the part you play in it.

a/n: this is so sad i'm sorry. like it's just a couple thousand words of luke being sad with a cute little flashback and a percy mention to make it all more sad. i don't know what's wrong with me why did i start writing this series

wc: 4.1k

warning(s): pretty severe angst bc this takes place after hurricane's death and goes up to mid tlt. death ideation, minor descriptions of injuries, luke isn't the best person, just a whole lot of sadness.

Luke returns to camp two weeks after your death, nothing more than a shell of himself.                      

Half of his time was spent sitting in an interrogation room in a Boston police station, mumbling his way through questions he doesn’t know how to answer. It’s not every day that a teenage girl is found nearly ripped apart in the middle of a city with her boyfriend completely broken next to her. Two EMTs had to literally drag him away from you—at least, that’s what they tell Luke. Everything after your heartbeat stopped is a blur for him. He doesn’t really even know how he got to the station.

And that’s how it is for a while. He talks to detectives who don’t believe him, he stares at the wall and wishes you were here, he goes home with your mom. She’s being asked just as many questions, and she refuses to leave him out on the street or take him back to camp. She doesn’t understand that Luke’s done it all before. 

Eventually, the officers settle on a freak animal attack. It didn’t make sense for an animal capable of doing that to be in the city, but mortals see what they want to see. Luke is just thankful to be out of it. 

But he doesn’t know what to do next. There’s a huge gaping hole in his chest and in his life without you, and he doesn’t know how to live without you. Every time Luke closes his eyes he sees your face, and he hasn’t been able to sleep through the night since it happened. He only really manages to stay out when his body practically shuts down from exhaustion. 

Your mom treats Luke like a second son while he’s living with her, and it pains him more than anything. She asks him if he wants to stay with her, try and finish out the semester. He was surprised she still wanted anything to do with him. 

Luke declined. He loved your mom, but being in that apartment without you—walking past your room and knowing you would never be there again, seeing a space you carved out for yourself knowing the most integral part was missing—was just too much for him. The full reality of you being gone still hadn’t sunk in yet. 

He’s soured on the city of Boston as a whole. He’s felt your blood on his hands since the moment it stained his fingers, and for as long as Luke lives he will never forget the look on your mother’s face when she showed up at the police station. 

Your mom offers to drive him back to camp, and though he wants to say no to that as well, he doesn’t. Luke can tell that she needs a distraction, and he doesn’t really know how else he’s gonna get back to camp. They don’t talk very much on the way there, but neither of them burst into tears, so he considers it a victory. 

She parks at the bottom of the hill and hugs him so tightly he can’t breathe, but he welcomes any kind of feeling. 

“Stay safe, Luke,” she says, her hands on his shoulders. “And if you ever need a place to stay—”

“I know,” he interrupts. “And I’ll try.”

She nods a few times, and she blinks back tears as she looks up at him. “Thank you for everything you did for my daughter. For all those years that you kept her safe.”

It clearly wasn’t enough, Luke wants to say. If it was, he wouldn’t have lost you back then, and he wouldn’t have lost you now. But that wouldn’t help anyone, so he nods. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, his throat still dry as a desert. 

“Always.”  

“I know how much you meant to each other,” she says softly. “I’m so sorry, Luke.” 

He holds back his emotions. “So am I.” 

Your mom nods again and they say their goodbyes once more, hugging one last time. When Luke reaches the top of the hill, he looks back to see her still standing there. He wishes he could do something to ease the pain, but he doesn’t even know how to deal with his own. 

Luke stops at Thalia’s tree, and he already feels that lump in his throat. 

“I hope you’re together in Elysium,” he murmurs. “I always thought you would like each other.” 

The beginnings of tears prick the back of his eyes and he clears his throat, shaking his head like it’ll help silence the millions of thoughts scattered around his brain. If Thalia lives on like this, he hopes your spirit is still around somewhere.

“I love you,” he says quietly. “And I’m sorry I failed both of you.”

Nobody at camp knows. How could they? 

Luke wasn’t expected back until the summer, though, so his presence at the top of the hill is telling in of itself. Especially alone. 

He ignores everyone that tries to talk to him and gets to the Big House to break the news to Chiron. Thankfully, when he dissolves into tears, it’s behind closed doors. Chiron takes it in a saddened stride, and Luke wonders how many heroes have died in his lifetime. 

You have no siblings to make a burial shroud, so the Athena cabin takes up the responsibility. Annabeth invites him to take part, but he can hardly stomach the thought. 

It’s beautiful. They emulate the ocean through embroidery and Annabeth even gets a little Red Sox patch in. They let Luke burn it, and he’s amazed he even makes it through the ceremony. But the entire camp shows up, and there isn’t a single dry eye. He hopes you at least know how many people care about you. 

Chris takes over as counselor for the indefinite future, which is probably a good thing when Luke can barely muster the strength to get out of bed most days. He picks at his food when he’s able to make it to meals, and his prayers to Hermes have never felt emptier. He used to do one for Poseidon every so often, especially when you were at school, but the thought makes him sick. His eyes never stop trailing over to Cabin Three’s table. 

The Poseidon cabin is empty again. 

Luke doesn’t fully realize the path he’s taken until he’s standing in the doorway and the scent of salty air hits him. He’s so used to hanging out with you after dinner that he just went there automatically. 

It feels unfinished. It is unfinished. You had a whole box of things back in Boston that you wanted to bring back to camp to decorate. 

Your posters still hang on the walls—Blondie, Pearl Jam, Alanis Morisette. Fairy lights are falling down in the corner, and they’re unplugged. Luke had to remind you to unplug them before you left for the school year. 

You should be standing next to him, smiling and laughing and dragging him in behind you as you rant about capture the flag or the canoe race you definitely didn’t cheat in. He blinks away the tears building in his eyes and he takes a step back. 

You should be here. You’re not. 

(How many more times is he going to end up here chasing ghosts?) 

There are some things a person just can’t get over. 

And that’s how his days go. He barely manages to get out of bed, picks at meals that taste like sand, musters what little strength he has to lead sword lessons, endures pitiful looks and sympathetic speeches. 

Luke gets lost in the past more than he should, oftentimes sitting on the beach talking to you as he watches the waves roll in or sneaking out to the dock in the middle of the night to be in the company of the only person he can stand. 

By the time summer comes back around, Luke is sure of three things. 

He isn’t ever going to be the same again. 

You should still be alive. 

He won’t rest until he’s torn Olympus down brick by brick. 

-

“It’s quiet here,” Luke said.

“That’s what happens when you don’t have any siblings,” you murmured. 

His eyes trailed over to the door and you nudged him with your shoulder. “What do you keep looking over there for? Scared someone’s gonna catch us?” 

He shrugged. “We’re technically not allowed to be in here together.” 

“They can’t say anything,” you said. “We’re both counselors. And no one’s in this place anyways. Besides,” you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips, “we’ve earned all the time in the world.” 

Luke smiled and snaked an arm around you, pulling you closer to him. “You think so?” 

“We lost two years together,” you said, laying your head on his chest. “Far as I’m concerned, no one can say a damn thing to us.” 

“It always feels like we talk about the past,” he said. “What about the future?” 

“All I know is I want you in it,” you mused. You always loved resting on his chest because you could hear his heartbeat, could feel the slight rise and fall from his breathing. It meant he was alive, and after what you’d been through, that was more valuable than anything. 

“Obviously,” Luke said coyly. “I want you in mine too. But what about the details?” 

“We gotta finish high school first,” you said. “Have you thought about what I said?” 

“...Yeah,” he nodded. “It’s just been a while since I’ve left camp. Going back to school seems rough for someone who hasn’t been in classes since elementary school.” 

You shook your head. “Which is exactly why my school would be perfect for you. We left at the same age, remember?” You took his hand and began to trace the lines of his palm. “It took some getting used to, but I made it. If I can, so can you—and I’ll help you every step of the way.” 

Luke chuckled softly. “I’m a little worried about leaving Annabeth.” 

“Annabeth of all people would support you going for your education,” you said. “And it’s not like she’ll be on her own—everyone likes her here.” 

“...Talk me through it,” Luke decided. “Say we both go back for the school year. What does a sophomore year for the two of us back in Boston look like?” 

“Well, we’d be living together. We have an extra room in our apartment, and I’m sure I can convince my mom to let you take it.” You let out a sigh as you shifted, moving closer into Luke’s side. “We’d take the T together to school, but you don’t have to worry because I can show you around everywhere.” 

He chuckled. "I could use a refresher on Boston. Don't have the fondest memories there."

"We'll just make some new ones," you promised. “I’m on the soccer team, too. I was JV this year, but I’m gonna make varsity next fall—mark my words.” 

Luke rubbed your shoulder as he hummed. “And I’d come to every game.” 

“You better.” You glanced up at him with a smile. “You could try out for something too. I think you’d make a killing in basketball.” 

He raised his eyebrows. “Do you not remember all those pick-up games we played when we were younger and bored? I was gods-awful.” 

“This’ll be different,” you insisted. “You’ll actually be sleeping on a bed every night, and eating consistently. I think that makes you a better athlete. Plus, you’re not three feet tall anymore.” 

Luke laughed as he intertwined your fingers together. “The star soccer player and the mediocre basketball player. We make quite a couple.” 

“You’d be better than mediocre,” you said. “Anyways—we’d play our sports and kill it, I’d introduce you to all the friends I made last year, I’d show you all around Boston, and I’d get you hooked on the Red Sox.” 

He leaned back against the headboard with a chuckle. “You’re really never gonna let this go, are you?” 

“It’s my sovereign duty to put you onto the Red Sox,” you said, “especially surrounded by all these Yankees. I’m gonna get you to a game one of these days. And after we kill sophomore year, we’ll kill junior and senior year.” You tapped on his chest for each year with your free hand, and his smile grew. “Then we’ll graduate high school together. With honors, and monster-free.” 

“You have such high standards,” Luke said wryly. “I’ve always thought I’d be lucky to pass with C’s.” 

“You haven’t always had me,” you mused. “And when we’re together, we can’t lose.” 

Luke smiled as he looked at your intertwined hands. “Y’know, I think your plan sounds pretty good. I’m pretty sure I could put up with school if it meant more time with you.” 

You leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips. Luke moved his hand to keep you there, and when you pulled away, a delicate blush painted his cheeks and pure love danced in his eyes. You couldn’t help but smile. 

You were the luckiest girl in the world. 

“Thank you,” you said. 

Luke offered a sideways grin. “For what?”

You shrugged. “For being you.”

“Thank you, then,” he said. 

“For what?” 

“For sticking with me,” Luke said. “Through everything.” 

“I wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else,” you murmured. 

-

The second year isn’t any easier. 

Luke is back to being year-round. There’s no point in going home—not when Connecticut hasn’t welcomed him in years. Not when he would just be another problem for your mother in the midst of her grief. 

So he stays at camp. Endures the pitiful looks from everyone, lies his way through attempted therapy with Chiron, trains more than ever before. No one seems to know how to treat him, because he goes from completely alone to swarmed with sympathy to completely alone again. It takes two months before his friends are acting like he’s a normal person again, and even then it still feels like they’re walking on glass. 

Luke can’t find enough inside of him to care. 

He practices with his sword until he feels like his arms might fall off, only narrowly avoiding the harpies each night. His siblings ask how he does it, why he does it, and he just says he wants to get better. 

But Luke refuses to let it happen again—not when his surrogate sister is all he has left. Not when he sees you every time he closes his eyes. 

His birthday comes and goes, but seventeen is empty without you. He replays your past conversations in his head, about traveling together and graduating together and maybe even going to college together. Demigods aren’t meant to think about the future, but he dared to dream with you. 

And the worst part was that you were right. You made varsity. You were in the middle of killing sophomore year, despite Luke struggling his way through with C’s and the occasional D—you had always been smarter than him. You got him out to a Red Sox game, and gods forbid, he actually enjoyed it. 

You were living the life you deserved, a life of happiness and success and with Luke, and you didn’t even make it past sophomore year. You were meant for so much more, and every day he questions why it was taken from you. Every day, he questions why you’re gone and he’s not. 

The year chugs on in all its misery, and for the first time since he all but rejected him as his son, Hermes appears to Luke. 

His father gives him a quest, and he takes it despite the inherent insult of it. Maybe some part of him hopes he’ll die out there and finally get to see you again. 

(Another part wonders if he’s even worth Elysium. Luke lost you once, then he lost Thalia, and now he’s lost you again. Some kind of hero he is.) 

He goes it alone. It takes him back to the first couple of months before he met you, and when the thought hits him, it almost overwhelms him. Everything makes Luke think of you, but it makes sense. He’s only living half a life—he’s missing the other half of his soul. 

Luke fails his quest. He manages to get a claw and he manages to nearly lose an eye. There’s no glory in a repeated quest, but there might be even less glory in this. 

And once more, Luke staggers back to camp as a victim rather than a hero. Someone only worthy of pity, someone so weak that Chiron bans quests unless they’re absolutely necessary. It takes weeks for the scars on his body to heal, and the mark on his face even longer. He becomes well-acquainted with the cycle of Apollo kids that take shifts in the infirmary.  

He feels nothing but disgust every time he looks in the mirror. After all, the claw marks ripping their way through his body match yours. Sometimes he wishes Ladon finished the job. 

It doesn’t make sense why, after everything, he’s still here. 

Luke can hardly stand to be at camp, but he’s got nowhere else to go. He gets better at hiding his emotions, better at acting like he’s gotten through it. New demigods show up and he’s not the bereaved counselor anymore—he’s not introduced with his grief. He hides it away.  

No one wants to deal with all the problems he’s racked up. His mom, his dad, Thalia, you.    He’s a demigod. Demigods are resilient. So he plays the part—he’s been through a lot, but he’s past it. He promises he’s not a burden anymore. He’s just a normal kid. 

And for a while, Luke is almost able to believe it himself. He’s never going to be over you, but he starts feeling like a person again rather than a ghost of one. He’s fully taken over the mantle of counselor again, and he’s actually present during sword-fighting lessons. He even manages to get a six-month-long capture the flag winning streak going on. 

And then Kronos appears in his dreams. 

Luke knows Greek mythology. It’s hard not to pick up a couple things when you’re fighting stuff from the history books, but they teach some lessons at camp. It’s nice to know what you’re up against before you die a brutal death. 

Kronos killed his father. He ate his children. Every wicked deed was done for power, and power is what he offers Luke. 

And maybe there’s something wrong with him, because it’s the first time he’s felt hope since he left Boston. 

Luke finally has an answer to something. He’s been silently cursing the gods for years, trying to figure out a way to tear everything down without getting himself immediately killed, and he’s got one. 

Kronos speaks to him most nights. He remembers the dreams you shared with him in your final year, all the restless hours spent sitting together on the fire escape as he soothed you. You thought Kronos was the reason for it, but he couldn’t have been. His dreams were nothing like yours. 

But still, Luke wonders every day what you would say if you were here, if you knew the treacherous path he’d embarked on. Kronos promised power, freedom, an end to Olympus and the reign of the gods. 

He doesn’t care about power. He just wants to hold you again. He wants to hear your laugh again. He wants to see your smile in more than pictures. 

But he can’t. And he wants to destroy everyone responsible for it. 

So he does everything the Titan Lord asks of him. He hones his skills even further, he lays low, and when the time is right, he steals Zeus’s bolt and Hades’ helm. Luke even nearly beats Ares when he’s caught, but Kronos doesn’t lead him astray—he speaks of divine war, and he gets out of it. 

He continues to see you. Kronos doesn’t lead him astray, but he punishes him for such a close call. Luke wakes in the middle of the night, eyes wide and chest heaving with labored breaths, and he feels your blood on his hands all over again. He sees you die over and over again and he can do nothing to stop it.  

You always told each other about your nightmares. 

That’s the hardest part of it all. You’ve always been so closely intertwined with Luke’s life since the moment he saved you in that aquarium years ago, and he can’t see any way to let go of you. He can’t—even though you’re gone, you’re still a part of him. His first instinct in any situation is to tell you, and it kills him that he can’t. 

And maybe things would have turned out different for Luke if you were still around. He’s never going to forgive himself for your death, and he’s certainly never going to forgive the gods. Thalia pushed him to the edge, but you were the breaking point. Luke is only nineteen and he’s loved and lost more than most.

Maybe things would be different if you were here. But you’re not, and they aren’t. So when a new demigod shows up, covered in monster dust and nearly dead on camp’s doorstep with Grover in tow, Luke doesn’t hesitate. 

He killed the Minotaur, and his mom is dead. Skilled enough to take on a quest, desperate enough to ignore a couple warning signs. Percy Jackson is the boy Kronos told him about. 

So Luke takes him under his wing. Shows him around camp, welcomes him to the Hermes cabin, trains with him one-on-one. 

Something about his spirit reminds him of you. It’s the grit, he thinks. The determination. The refusal to back down even when it’s the smartest option. When he asks about you that night in the Hermes cabin, Luke’s heart stutters. The kid is too sharp for his liking. 

It doesn’t take long before Luke manages to cement himself as one of his friends, maybe only third to Annabeth and Grover. He’s a lost kid that’s been thrust into a world he doesn’t understand, and Luke is the closest thing to a rock most campers have got. 

It’s supposed to just be a guise, but sometimes, he forgets himself. He likes Percy too much—he just feels too much like a younger brother, and that’s not really good for the already growing guilt in his chest. 

Maybe it’s because Luke sees himself in Percy. Someone playing a part he’s not aware of, an unfortunate pawn with no choice in the matter. Luke tries to push it away. Kronos wouldn’t lead him astray—this was the path he had to take if he wanted anything to change. 

But it’s not like that makes it easier. Because gods, Percy has never looked more like a kid than when he’s suited up in armor for capture the flag. It almost makes Luke regret the plan he has to enact. 

Almost. 

Annabeth has a plan as usual, and thankfully Percy plays the part of bait. Luke tunes out of everything else and lets his battle senses take over—things have already been set into play, and now all Luke can do is hide in plain sight. Soon enough he’s got the red team’s flag past the boundary line, and he’s hoisted up onto his teammates shoulders. Luke is almost able to forget what he’s done. 

…Almost. 

A howl rips through the forest, and the hellhound Luke summoned after the start of the game launches itself at Percy. He’s on the ground before he knows it, the flag forgotten in his hand as he rushes over with the rest of the campers. 

For some ungodly reason, Annabeth tries to step in front of him, but she’s thankfully too slow. The monster swipes at Percy and its claws shred through his armor. For a split second, Luke is back in Boston and his chest stills.

Chiron solves the problem with a cluster of arrows, but the camp is in immediate disarray. Clarisse instantly accuses Percy, Annabeth is trying to make sure Percy doesn’t die, and Luke just hopes his shock is believable enough to hide his annoyance. He’s just a scrawny kid—how the hell is he still alive? But then the unthinkable happens.

Annabeth tells Percy to step back in the lake. The instant he’s in the water, what should have been a fatal wound starts to heal. 

And then a glowing blue trident appears above Percy Jackson’s head. 

Luke feels sick as he lowers himself to one knee with the rest of camp. As the hellhound he summoned melts into the shadows, as he stares at the sacrificial lamb of a demigod meant to unknowingly enact his plan. 

“Poseidon,” Chiron says. “Earthshaker, Stormbringer, Father of Horses. Hail, Perseus Jackson, Son of the Sea God.”

Your brother. 

[luvyeni]

YOUR ANIMAL INTERRUPTS 𖹭 라이즈 ( text reaction ) !

genre smut 𖹭 warning pairing — OT7 x fem reader | back to library .

— your animals interrupting you when you're trying to have sex...

request. can i request a "your animal interrupts" with riize

「 authors note 𖹭 」 here you go ! hope you like it i used different animals 🩵

﹙ 𐙚 : shotaro ﹚ .ᐟ

sex with taro most of the time is pretty soft and carefree — neither one of you taking it too lightly, his cock stretching you out deliciously; smiling brightly as he whispered praises in your ear. "fuck baby you feel good , taking my cock like a good girl." he nuzzled his nose against your neck , making you giggle a bit; turning into a moan. "fuck taro." both of you caught up in each other you don't notice you dog pushing the cracked door open , hoping on the bed nonchalant letting out a stretch — which finally gains your attention. both of you looking at the dog who just turned a few times before laying down. your boyfriend turning back to you , before you both burst out into laughter.

"i guess next time we have to make sure the door is locked babygirl."

﹙ 𐙚 : eunseok ﹚ .ᐟ

eunseok didn't like that damn ferret , always going missing and popping up at the worst times — like now as he's actively fucking you. "oh shit." he cursed as he felt you tightening around him. "so fucking tight." he threw his head back , your warm cunt sucking him in. "shit seok about to cum." both of you about to reach his peak when he felt a hip at his toe. "oh fuck!" he cursed your little furry animal emerging from the covers , he must've been laying flat sleeping. "dumb fucking— hey don't talk about him like that." he picked the animal up; getting out of the bed, putting him in his cage. he got back into bed, pushing you back down. "you seriously want to finish?" he scoffed.

"your little rodent isn't gonna stop me from cumming."

﹙ 𐙚 : sungchan ﹚ .ᐟ

you told him to let the cat out the room, but he was already far gone , his lips on your neck as he slid his cock inside you; both of you moaning out as he held your legs thrusting in and out of your cunt. "of fuck chan faster!" he grunted above you , fucking into you much faster; deeper. "fuck baby you feel so good." he moaned. "so-so fucking tight— fuck! " his loud groans caused a very dramatic reaction from your sleeping animal. the frightened animal ran across the floor scaring him , which scared you , now all three of you are staring at each other eye wide, the mood ruined.

"fuck next time im letting that damn cat out."

﹙ 𐙚 : wonbin ﹚ .ᐟ

to be fair you both were fucking on the floor of your living room , not even bothering to go your bed room , ridding yourselves of your clothes. taking his hard cock into your hand , stroking it as you sunk down to his length. "fuuuuuuuck." he cursed as you rocked your hips back and forth , his hands coming up to squeeze your boobs. "so tight." he groaned. "keep moving , so good." now he knew you had a pet bunny; he also knew you let your bunny hop around your apartment — specifically your living room. "oh wait fuck." you giggled, confusing the boy as your chest fell flat against his. "wh-whats wrong?" he said , now he's smiling because even though he's hard inside your warm cunt , you're still cute.

"the bunny is just sitting there above your head , watching."

﹙ 𐙚 : seunghan ﹚ .ᐟ

going down on you was his favorite thing in the world; the way you gripped at his hair, pushing his head further into your pussy; using his face to basically get off. "fuck hannie." you moaned, his tongue lapping at your folds, his face covered in your essence, moaning against your folds. "fuck seung, i'm gonna cum." you tugged at his hair. "cum for me baby." he brushed his nose against your clit — before you could even reach your peak, the squawking of your bird ruined the entire mood.

"you just had to get the loudest animal baby."

﹙ 𐙚 : sohee ﹚ .ᐟ

he will not give a fuck I'm sorry , if your mouth is on his cock , bobbing your head up and down on his length — he couldn't care less that your cat is literally sitting by his head on the couch. "fuck." he moaned guiding your head. "fuck your mouth feels so good." he tried to keep his hips from bucking up. "shit." he threw his head back as you took him all the way down your throat , his head falling right next to the cat — which she didn't take it well , hissing before she swiping her paw across his face. "ow fuck!" he shot up , holding his eye. "are you okay?" your voice is still raw.

"that damned cat."

﹙ 𐙚 : anton ﹚ .ᐟ

having sex with anton in the morning before getting up for the day was always soft, his arms wrapping his arms around your waist, kissing your neck as the waking sun bled into the room. "a-anton." you sighed as he pushed your shorts to the side, holding your legs as he slid inside your warm hole. "fuck." he sighed. "you feel so nice." his hands cupping your boobs. "fuck i love your pussy so much." he groaned , your soft moans filling up the room. "t-ton fuck!" the sound of the automatic cat feeder outside the room going off , your cat jumping from it's sleeping place , running over to the door scratching at it meowing loudly , making anton stop, he sighed groaning. "the cat is ready to start her day." he pulled out of you his cock still hard. "fuck."

"open the door and let her out , i can't go the entire morning with a hard on."

©️LUVYENI

[charliemwrites]

Before charmed slasher Simon revealed his true identity, what were movie nights like? I’d kill for a lil section on them almost cuddling on the couch while watching a scary movie and Simon absolutely adoring when you jump and scooch closer to him on instinct 🥹🥹 please charlie I beg you 😭

*Checks notes, chats with The Council* Yeah okay... we can do that.

CW for a bit of somnophilia and Simon being a creep!!

You open the door looking like some kind of pastry with too-big eyes. Soft, cream-colored pair of joggers and a thin pink jumper, so fuzzy he just knows he'll find fluff on him after this. You look so cozy and sweet; he wants to put a pretty belled collar on you. Maybe watch you curl up in a nest of blankets, safe behind the bars of a cage.

But maybe not, he muses as you chirp a greeting, taking his hand to tug him into your apartment. A lamb inviting a wolf to the pen. He likes you best like this, all loose limbed and free to roam. Thinks maybe you'd lose some of that mischievous glint if he locked you up.

The collar though... he'd like to hear it ring as you bounce around him.

"I am the bestest friend ever," you declare, squeezing calloused fingers so much bigger and crueler and blood-stained than your own. "You know why?"

He arches an eyebrow. Your impish smile widens with delight. "Why's that, luv?"

"Well, you know that one place you wanted last week, but they were closed?"

He grunts and nods. Last week was your choice to pick the movie, which mean he was in charge of dinner.

"Well... they're still closed for repairs but! I talked to the owner, who talked to his mum, and she gave me the recipe for that dish you like. So guess what I did!"

He stares at you for a moment, teeth aching his jaw with the urge to sink them into soft flesh. Mark you as his. How the hell are you real? How the hell are you here?

When he's silent a beat to long, you click your tongue.

"You're no fun - I tried to make it," you explain.

Only then does he become aware of the scent in your apartment. Garlic and red meat and savory spices. His mouth fills with saliva as he focuses his attention on you again.

"Smells great, luv," he says, flicking the corner of his mouth up.

You beam. "Hopefully it's good! I tried it first and it seems alright, but I'm not sure it's as good as the restaurant."

It's almost not a conscious thought to snap his arm out and scoop you up, dragging you in against his chest. You yelp initially, but it devolves into a little giggle as you flatten your palms against his chest.

"Thank you, luv."

Every time he comes into your home, it's a struggle not to keep you. Not to take this place for himself, keep you for his own among all your pretty, soft things. Blood washes out; he'd show you how.

"Rileyyyy!" you mock-whine, pushing at him. "C'mon, before it gets cold."

He wants to make a comment about eating you. Simon thinks he could survive a winter on your taste alone. Instead he lets you on your feet, eases his snake-like grip around your waist. You cast him one last, warm look and skip off to the kitchen to fill bowls with food.

"So what movie are we watching?" you call.

"You ever seen Sinister?" he asks.

You make an annoyed noise. "You know I haven't!"

"Well, that's what we're watching."

You appear with a full, steaming bowl and a beer, shoo him to the couch with a little kick to his ankles. "Get it set up while I finish serving."

"Bossy thing," he tuts, voice a little too low for teasing.

The bridge of your nose darkens with a flush, but you make a cheeky little face in return. "Someone's gotta keep you in line!"

You're gone before you can hear the rumble in his chest. Some days he could swear you know what you're doing; that you know just what sort of animal you're poking at. That you're seeing just how much you can prod before he springs.

He tries not to imagine that cheeky, smug little smirk going all wet-eyed and desperate with lust. Sits to hide the bulge forming in his pants and sets up the movie.

You saunter out with your own, less-filled bowl and a glass of white wine. Take one look at the screen and shoot him an exasperated look.

"I should have known," you complain.

"Literally called Sinister, luv."

"Yeah, I know," you lament.

As soon as the movie starts you're curling into his side, eyes huge. Meal forgotten in your lap.

"Oh, no," you whisper, tilting your face to give him a pleading look. "I can't eat like this!"

"Eat quick, luv. You'll have a break after this first part.”

You do as you’re told; take a big sip of wine when you’re done - just in time for the first jumpscare. You save the wine but quickly put it away, shrinking down against the cushions.

“You’re mean, awful, terrible,” you mumble, fumbling a blanket off the back of the couch.

“‘S not very nice,” he snorts, licking his fork clean. You’d made it quite well for a first time. Not necessarily as good as the restaurant’s but better for you having made it special for him.

“You’re not very nice,” you reply, going stiff with fear as the “home movies” start playing. “No no no, fuck all of that.”

As soon as he’s set his bowl aside, you’re clinging in his arm. Bicep squished against your breasts, little fingers curling hard into flesh. He hopes you’ll leave cute little bruises. Your eyes are huge trained on the tv, bottom lip caught between your teeth.

“Holy shit,” you squeak, hiding your face.

Chuckling, he nudges at you. “Uh uh, no hiding. C’mon, I’m right here.”

You whimper and snuggle in even closer, wedged up against his ribs, leaning into him. Nearly climb into his lap when the creature starts moving on the screen, hands flapping.

“Fuuuuuck that,” you whine, “he’s so fucked oh my god.”

Simon chuckles, setting his other hand on your thigh. Indulges in stroking his thumb over the inseam of your joggers. You barely even seem to notice, engrossed in fear.

By the end, you’re fanning yourself of the panic, shooting him a look that’s meant to be accusing but mostly just owlish.

“You have to make it up to me,” you declare.

Oh, he could think of a dozen ways to do that.

“Yeah?” he rumbles. “What do you need?”

“We’re watching something else. My pick this time.” You pause, shoot him a worried look. “Can you stay for another?”

He smirks. “Couldn’t kick me out if you tried, luv.”

You really couldn’t. Because you’re adorable when you’re scared. Look like something to ruin. But the aftermath is almost better. When your body melts into warmth and (false) safety. The anxiety drains away, leaving you sleepy and pliable. You’ll fall asleep within the hour.

And you do. Clue playing (subtitles on) you’re snoozing against his shoulder before long. He waits until the movie ends for plausible deniability, then takes you to bed. You hardly stir, save to press your nose against his collar with a little hum.

He eases you out of your joggers, eyes flickering at the pretty lace clinging to your hips. Tiny little bows at the sides.

Snuffs out the bedside lamp and fishes his fully-hard cock from his pants. He teases his free hand along your inner thigh, over the lace front of your panties. Scrapes his nail a bit where your clit is hidden. Nearly purrs when you moan softly, wiggling on the mattress to open your thighs wider, still out cold.

Fucks his other hand vicious and brutal, relishing the slight dry pain. Fast and hard, already worked up from having you trembling against him for over an hour. It doesn’t take long to fall over that edge, the memory of your squeaks and cries finishing him off.

He covers the sensitive, angry tip as he cums, no matter how much he wants to paint you with his spend. He takes a deep breath as the pleasure courses through him, twitching through aftershocks. Cracks his neck as he peeks your peaceful expression.

Can’t help himself. Smears his wet thumb over the front of your panties. Nothing you’ll notice in the morning, but you’ll spend all night with him marking your cunt. Maybe even all day tomorrow.

He should go.

Ends up gently, carefully, glossing your bitten bottom lip with a drop of cum as well. Gets rock hard all over again when your tongue flicks out at the sensation, tasting. Still unconscious. You roll over with a sleepy sigh and curl up.

Simon pulls the blankets over you and returns to the living room to clean up from dinner. He’s not yet willing to slink back to his den.

First | Previous | Next

Masterlist

[cressidagrey]

Looked to the Sky - Chapter 4

Summary: 

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

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

Warnings: 

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

Elain Bashing, Amren bashing, KITTENS!, Accidental Forest Burning?, Kinda a panic attack or the fae equivalent, Mention of Wing Clipping (kinda) and without @k-godling this would have never happened.

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

Eira was having a bad day. 

She was having a really, really bad day. 

After the war…they had been more often. 

After the war…there hadn’t been a week without her having one of those bad days. 

A day, where everything felt like it was too much. Where everything seemingly scratched at her skin, everything was too much, too loud. 

Today was another one of those days.

It was one of those days where everything was too much, too loud, too much, too bright. Where the walls suddenly seemed to grow too close, the ceiling too low, the world too large, too noisy, too….everything.

It was one of those days and Eira didn’t like it. She didn’t like it at all.

She was curled up in her room, the windows covered and the curtains drawn closed, plunging the room into deep shadows.

She couldn’t stand it when the world was too much, too loud.

And yet she could still hear it all. Still hear every little sound, every little noise.

The voices of the others, the birds or the animals outside, the people on the streets, everything.

It was too much and she didn’t like it.

She was curled up on the bed, her hands pressed against her ears as she tried to block out as much of the noise as possible.

It was too much, everything was too much, too loud, too bright..

She just wanted the noise to stop.

But she couldn't. And as much as she wanted to throw herself a pity party...it wouldn't result in anything. 

She wanted to cry and complain and have something in the form of a tantrum, like a child.

But that wouldn’t get her anywhere, would it?

She was an adult, she couldn’t just sit and sob about everything being too much. About her bad day.

It wouldn't give her anything...wouldn't result in anything. And so she forced herself to get up...she forced herself to have breakfast...to smile at Nyx when he upended his porridge bowl all over Rhys.

It was hard, getting up when all she wanted to do was to stay under the covers.

She was exhausted, her bad day and the lack of sleep leaving her feeling like walking dead.

At least she was left alone.

Rhys was in a meeting with the governors, Feyre had taken Nyx with her to some painting classes…

She knew she shouldn’t have been feeling as relieved as she did when she realised that every one was gone, leaving her alone in the River House.

But there was a part of her that was immensely relieved, almost desperate.

It was only her, with her bad day and the silence of the house, for once without the constant bustle of the others. 

She ended up tending to her gardening patch that day...ignoring the hovering shadows that tried to get her to stop.

But she didn’t listen. The hard work of tending the garden and the feeling of the dirt against her skin was enough to distract her, if only for a little.

It was better than sitting in her room, alone and curled up and trying to muffle every single sound.

She could still remember the smell and the sounds of the war.

Of blood and mud and smoke, of the sound of steel on steel.

Of the screams of soldiers, of the soldiers calling out for their friends, for their family.

Of the sounds of swords being pulled from flesh and mud, and of bodies crumpling to the ground.

She could still remember those days.

And sometimes it was all she could think of.

The war. The bad days. The pain.

Eira finished her planting, having harvested enough carrots for the day, and then walked back through the door, dusting some dirt off her hands.

She paused when she saw Amren standing just inside, leaning against a wall with her arms crossed over her chest.

She froze, suddenly feeling the urge to turn back and out of the door again.

There was something about the other female’s stare, the almost calculating look in her eyes, that always made her feel like prey. 

And Eira didn’t like it. 

She could see the other woman’s gaze dart over her, noting all the messy and unkempt aspects of her current appearance, and suppressed the urge to shrink and cower.

“Amren,” she greeted politely, as she tried to push down the rising feeling of dread.

The other female simply tilted her head, eyeing her almost lazily.

You look...” Amren drawled quietly, before trailing off.

Eira’s skin was crawling with the feeling of being judged, to be judged and found....found lacking.

“You look like you’ve been digging through mud,” Amren continued, her voice still quiet.

Eira swallowed a little, feeling herself start to hunch in on herself.

She suddenly didn’t know what to do with her hands, the feeling of Amren’s intense gaze almost making her fingers start to twitch.

"I have been gardening," Eira said quietly. Her own vegetable plot...and she needed to think of how to prepare the garden for autumn, given that Elain was not going to do anything like that.

"You would have been better off honing that lightning power of yours, Girl," Amren drawled. Eira couldn't help but flinch.

She tried to ignore...what was slumbering under her skin. She tried to...she tried not to think of what...what she was capable of. What she had proven herself to be capable of. 

“Your power is wasted on gardening,” Amren went on, her eyes still fixed on her. She was still studying her in that intense, almost predatory way. “You should be training, honing your abilities….not digging in the mud like some ordinary farmer.”

Eira felt herself bristle slightly, a spark of anger cutting through the almost debilitating terror of the intense stare.

The other female made it sound so….insulting. Like working in the garden was an insult to her power, something she was too good to do.

"I like gardening," Eira answered quietly.

“You like gardening,” Amren repeated, raising an eyebrow. She pushed off the wall, taking a couple of steps towards her.

“You like it, or is it an excuse to avoid using your power?” she inquired, her voice dropping to a low murmur. "Ignoring your power isn't going to make it disappear," Amren said quietly. "You are cauldron made, girl. You already showed how deadly you can be." 

Eira flinched again, unable to stop herself. Amren’s words hit her like a blow.

It was something she'd tried so hard to avoid thinking about.

She was cauldron-made, cursed by the powers she'd been given, by the very strength that was in her blood.

“You have an entire arsenal at the tip of your fingertips. You’re powerful. You’re stronger than most of them. You have the power of the damn lightning running in your veins. You have a natural gift for destruction. And yet you choose to ignore it all , to dig in the dirt like some common peasant instead of actually learning how to use it?”

She flinched again. 

"What's wrong, girl?" Amren asked, her voice still low and quiet. "Have I struck a nerve?"

She stalked closer, circling around her like a predator.

"You have power at your fingertips, enough to level a city and yet you choose to waste it on…gardening. Or on sewing or on baking or on whatever other useless little hobbies you find time for.”

The words cut deep, cut deeper than any blade ever could. Amren's voice was cold, almost mocking, but there was a touch of something else in it. Something almost like…irritation.

It was like she was disappointed, that she wanted Eira to...to be more. To be…a weapon.

"I don't want to be a weapon," Eira whispered. She didn’t want to fight. 

She wanted peace. That was all she wanted. 

Amren stopped, so close that Eira could taste the almost metallic smell of her power, like a sharp tang on the back of her tongue.

The other female was silent for a moment, studying her in that intense, almost calculating way of hers.

A beat passed before she spoke again, a low murmur.

“What you want...is irrelevant. You are a weapon. You are a living weapon...and that is never going to change. What about your sister? She spent years keeping you alive in that cottage. This is your thanks to your High Lady?" Amren hissed at her.

Eira flinched at the sharp tone, her eyes wide as she stared at Amren.

The other female was looking at her with a cold expression, her gaze sharp.

And yet…there was something else in her eyes, a cold kind of fury. Rage.

Amren’s voice dropped to a low murmur again, a dangerous undertone to it. “What about Feyre?“

Her words were like a lash, flaying the skin of her soul.

Of course. Of course, this was about Feyre.

Amren was furious with her. She was furious with how Eira tried to push her power away, how she tried to bury it and hide and avoid using it.

Amren’s eyes flashed with irritation. “She spent years keeping you alive in that cottage, all so you can waste your power on something as trivial as gardening ?”

The faelights flickered, flickered and started to dim.

Eira could suddenly feel a spark of anger at the back of her throat, a sharp feeling of irritation, as if something was scratching at the inside of her skin.

Too much. Too much.

Too much.

Everything was too much.

It all crowded her mind, everything so sharp and intense it almost cut her from the inside.

A rumble somewhere…outside. 

There was a part of her that wanted to scream, to yell and kick something and make the sharp feelings stop.

Another part that wanted to curl up on the floor and cry.

She wasn't sure what she did...she wasn't sure what she was...what...

Eira wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do, or what she was even supposed to be.

She didn’t want to be a living weapon, a cursed creature with power she didn’t want.

She didn’t want to be that. She couldn’t be that. 

She exploded.

It was like the world started to spin, a dizzying rush like a tempest, like a storm rushing through her body.

Her skin felt tight, almost stretched too thin. She felt like she was on fire, sparks crawling through her skin like little thorns digging into her soul.

It was anger. It was fury. It was a roaring sound in her ears like rain, like a thunderstorm.

She exploded. Or at least it felt that way to Eira. The only thing she knew was that she wanted to be far, far away.

Everything was blurry, like a red veil had been dropped over her eyes.

The only thing she knew was that she needed to get away.

She needed to escape, to be somewhere else, far, far away.

She needed…

She hit the floor. 

The first thing she knew was the feel of loose dirt beneath her fingertips as her fingers clawed into the ground beneath her. 

Not the polished marble of the River House hallway, but cool dirt and grass.

Outside. She was outside. 

She was suddenly aware of that fact.

Aware of how her knees and palms were pressed into dirt. That her heart was beating like a battle drum in her chest.

There was a feeling of lightning crawling over her skin, and as she looked down on her hands she saw it. Saw the lightning arcing over her skin, her whole body trembling. 

No. No, no, no, no….

She closed her eyes, as a ragged breath left her throat whimper.

She tried to hold it back, everything inside of her.

The anger, the power, everything swirling in her soul, scratching at her heart.

She tried to keep it all from spilling out, but it was like trying to contain a hurricane.

She failed, miserably.

Even with her eyes closed she could see the lightning. Could see the bluish silver colour of it a it sparked all over her skin, as it enveloped her…as it…as it poured into the ground like water. 

It was like a tempest was roaring through her veins, like the very lightning was snapping at her skin.

It was too much.

The power. The feeling.

It was all too much.

It was like a living current, like a thousand burning tendrils tracing over her skin, igniting every nerve ending like wildfire.

Every muscle felt like it was twitching, every nerve like it was screaming.

It was almost painful, the lightning dancing like little claws over her skin.

She tried to hold it back, wanted it all to stop.

But it was like a dam had burst.

All her anger, all her rage, all the things that had been brewing in her soul were now pouring out like a tsunami.

The ground around her was torn up, little pieces of grass and dirt thrown about by the currents of her power.

It was like an ocean of energy, like a storm in miniature, and it felt like it was tearing her apart from the inside. Everything felt raw and exposed, like every nerve ending was on fire, and the lightning just wouldn’t stop.

She wanted to curl up, desperately wanted it to end and just wanted to stop feeling all at the same time. And then...then it was over.

Then it was over.

Her heart was still thundering in her chest, the sound deafening in her ears, the electricity leaving her skin feeling oversensitive and raw. Her body felt exhausted, every muscle screaming and every nerve like a live wire of pain. 

And then, as suddenly as it had all started, it was over.

Eira was aware of a sudden moment of silence. And then she was aware of her own ragged breathing, how her heart was beating so hard in her chest she was sure it was going to break through her ribs.

Eira sat there, feeling the cold air biting into her skin.

She was alone.

Completely alone.

She was at the edge of a forest, sitting on the ground. Her hair was a mess, dirt and grass sticking to the strands, and her hands and clothes were stained with it.

She was cold, and her body felt almost numb, but she still couldn’t move.

You need to get up the shadows whispered suddenly.

She heard them, the shadows whispering to her.

It was like a voice in her ear, a quiet and almost urgent murmur.

You need to get up.

They sounded almost...concerned.

She forced herself to speak, to get the words past the lump in her throat.

“Where... where am I?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

The shadows remained silent for a moment, before she heard them reply, a quiet murmur.

Illyria. You winnowed. You need to get somewhere safe.

She froze slightly at the words.

Not at the idea of being in Illyria, but at the last part.

You winnowed.

She had...winnowed.

She had somehow managed to winnow in her anger, in her fury, to land in the middle of godforsaken Illyria.

She swallowed, trying to get through the fog of her mind.

You need to get somewhere safe.

The shadows were right, and the rational part of her knew she needed to get somewhere safe, somewhere away from the dangers of being right there. 

Eira didn’t know what kind of display she had just made, but she could imagine it. And if some rogue Illyrian was going to find her…some rogue Illyrian who hated the High Lord…she was going to die. She somehow didn’t doubt that for one moment. 

But she was also…tired. So tired it felt like her bones were made of lead, and she wasn’t sure if she could even move.

The shadows started pulling at her, like invisible hands gripping her and carefully lifting her to her feet.

She staggered a little, trying to keep her balance, her body still shaky from the aftermath of her outburst.

The forest seemed even more ominous in the faint light, the trees like shadowy sentinels surrounding her with their silent vigil…the smell of smoke in the air. She stared to find some of the trees being nothing but smoking black carcasses. 

Her trembling intensified. 

She had done that. She had…Today it hadn’t been people. Today it had only been trees. Somehow that did nothing to calm her. 

But the shadows still held her, guiding her forward, almost like they were trying to lead her somewhere.

One tendril wrapped around her wrist, like an invisible tether, pulling her forward with each stumbling step.

She wasn't sure how long she stumbled after it...every movement sluggish and shaky.

She wasn’t sure how long it went on, how long she stumbled and tripped through the shadows of the forest.

She was tired, so tired she felt like she could go to sleep and stay there on the cold forest floor. But the shadows still pulled her on, their grasp a gentle but firm pressure around her wrist, guiding her ever forward.

Safe. We’ll get you somewhere safe, the shadows whispered. Safe. Safe. 

Azriel. Azriel was safe. She needed Azriel. She needed…

For just one second she could have sworn that she smelt him…smelt cedars and mist, just as the shadows dragged her through…something. Something sticky like honey, like the very air had just hardened around her. 

The shadows whispered in her ear, a quiet murmur.

Nearly there.

She still felt tired, still felt like her body was made of lead, but the words from the shadows gave her the strength to keep going.

Nearly there.

She was blinking, and then she wasn’t.

And suddenly... suddenly a cottage appeared before her, like it had just sprung up from thin air.

She stumbled with surprise, her eyes wide as she stared at the cottage before her. 

A simple dark grey stone cottage.  It looked old, but well kept, sturdy and solid enough to withstand the harshness of Illyria.

There was a thin trail of smoke curling up from the chimney, and a warm light shining from the windows.

It was clearly lived in, clearly a home .

Esmeray will take care of you.  

Eira was bewildered, and confused, and her mind was sluggish and slow.

The shadows had brought her here, to this cottage, and now they were whispering about this...Esmeray.

She didn’t know who Esmeray was, and had never heard of her, but the shadows trusted her. 

Still, she stumbled up to that cottage door, hand grabbling against the door, clawing against the door frame to hold herself up. 

And then she heard a sound, a voice coming from inside.

"Who in the Mother's name...?"The sound of footsteps came padding hastily nearer, the door opened…and Eira would have nearly fallen into the house if she hadn’t caught herself. 

The owner of the voice appeared in the doorway.

Illyrian. A pair of ruined wings hanging from her back. Dark hair braided back into a long braid that fell down her back. She was beautiful. Hazel-green eyes, sharp eyebrows...She froze as she saw Eira, her eyes widened in surprise as she took in the battered, ragged appearance of the female on her threshold.

"Great Mother alive....What happened to you?" The Illyrian exclaimed, her eyes widening as she saw the state Eira was in.

She took a few quick steps forward, reaching out like she was to grab Eira from the doorway.

Eira didn’t have time to protest before the Illyrian grabbed her arm, pulling her all the way through the door and into the cottage. The inside of the cottage was warm, a fire crackling in the fireplace, and a faint, homey scent of smoke and herbs lingered in the air.

She was surprised, speechless at the quick movement, and her legs all but gave out underneath her.

The female caught her before she hit the floor, quickly steadying her and practically dragging her to where a chair was set by the fire.

The shadows swirled around her, dancing and flitting in the air like a little cyclone. The female noticed them, an eyebrow raising at the strange phenomenon, and turned a questioning gaze towards Eira. "Did Azriel send you here?" she asked, her voice calm but edged with something like alarm.

Eira struggled to find her voice, her throat dry and her mind fogged. Trying to speak was like trying to pull the words from the thick fog that filled her mind, but she managed to give a vague shake of her head, gesturing towards the dancing shadows.

The female tilted her head, seeming to understand her silent meaning.

Her eyebrows furrowed as she looked towards the shadows swirling around her.

"The shadows...did they bring you here?" she asked, her eyes flickering between Eira and the dark tendrils of air.

Eira nodded weakly, unable to summon the strength to speak.

Yes. The shadows had brought her here. They were still spinning and flitting around her, their presence a strangely comforting one.

The female’s brows furrowed more, as she took in Eira’s battered appearance, the exhaustion in her eyes, and the dancing shadows.

"What exactly happened to you?" she asked, her voice sharp and urgent, as she examined Eira for any more injuries. She was checking her over as she spoke, her hands gently but firmly moving over Eira's arms, chest and back. The female’s voice was quiet and gentle, like she was trying to soothe a spooked animal.

“Can you tell me your name?” she asked, her eyes flicking up to meet Eira’s.

Eira thought for a moment, trying to force her mind to work, to pull the words and her own name from the corners of her mind.

It took a moment, but she finally managed to rasp the words out.

“...Eira.”

The female nodded, seeming satisfied with her answer.

"Eira. That's a nice name." she said softly, before pausing. A moment of silence, as the female seemed to study her. And then… "Eira Archeron?" Surprise coloured her voice, and her eyes widened as she took in Eira's face, studying her features.

She was looking at Eira, her hazel-green eyes searching her face, like she was trying to find some resemblance, a small smile appearing on her face.

"My son mentioned you before," she said quietly. “My son mentioned you before,” she repeated again, her voice still quiet and soft.

It took a moment for her words to register.

Her son… mentioned her?

"Your... son?" she managed to croak out.

The female chuckled.

"Azriel," she said quietly, her voice holding an undeniable note of pride.

Eira's mind went quiet, her heart skipping a beat at the sound of his name. Her mind was like a sluggish, muddy mess, but something clicked as the words sank into her mind.

Her son. Azriel. 

Esmeray was Azriel’s mother . 

He...he had mentioned her? To his mother?!

To his mother.

The words circled her mind, repeating again and again.

To his mother, to his mother, to h-

The female seemed to recognize her shock, her surprise. And her words came softly, as her eyes never left Eira’s face.

"My son always was a quiet one. But he has a habit of mentioning the things that are important to him. You and your sisters clearly are considered important to him. Elain is your twin sister, isn't she?" The words seemed like they were spoken through a fog. Eira’s mind was in shambles, still reeling from the fact that Azriel might have mentioned her to his mother. But her mind caught on the other words.

Elain. Her twin sister.

She could only give a jerky nod in response, the movement making the world spin for a moment.

"My name is Esmeray," Azriel's mother introduced herself. Esmeray. "Welcome to Rosehall, Eira."

Rosehall.The word echoed in Eira’s head.

She was at Azriel’s mother’s home, a place called...Rosehall.

And the female before her...was Azriel’s mother.

Esmeray. Her name matched the warmth of her voice, and there was a kindness to her face that made Eira trust her instinctively.

Esmeray’s voice was soft as she spoke, a kind and gentle tone.

“Can you tell me what happened?”

The words rang through the buzzing mess that was Eira’s mind, and she almost wanted to cringe with frustration. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t remember.

But Esmeray’s voice was so gentle, so...motherly. It made her just want to spill all her troubles, to lay down her head and just...rest.

The words fumbled out of her mouth, stumbling over her tongue as she forced them out one by one.

"I...I was gardening,” she said, her voice soft, “back home...Amren came...we had words...I...I got angry...”

She paused a moment, hesitating, before forcing herself to continue.

“I winnowed...I ended up next to a forest...I think…I think I killed the trees..."

Esmeray was watching her, her eyes not leaving her face for a second. There was concern in her face, surprise and alarm, but none of the judgment Eira had expected to find there.

She could only swallow, feeling all at once like a little child again. A frightened, exhausted and weary little child, all but collapsing in the presence of a caring adult.

Esmeray didn’t move, but there was a quiet pause before she spoke again.

"The shadows led you here," Esmeray said, her voice still soft and gentle. 

The shadows wrapped around Eira’s wrist tighter, another tendril moving and twirling around her like they were acknowledging what Esmeray had said.

Esmeray seemed to blink twice at the shadow’s behaviour. "I imagine my son is already aware of what happened then," she said, her voice quiet.

True. The shadows would have told Azriel what was going on, right? So why hadn’t he come? 

Master will be there as soon as he can, the shadows whispered to her. It's alright. They were trying to soothe her, in their own quiet, strange way.

Esmeray was watching her, studying her like a worried mother.

“Let’s clean you up,” she said, her voice still soft and gentle, "Are you hungry? Thirsty? You are in shock, you are shaking.”

It was only then that Eira realized she was shivering and quaking. Like her body was trying to tremble apart.

The female stepped closer but didn't touch her yet, her eyes still studying Eira like she was trying to decide what to do with her. "And what happened to your clothes, sweetheart?" she asked softly, almost to herself, as her eyes raked over the torn, ragged state of Eira’s gown.

It was only then that Eira remembered the sorry state of her own attire. Torn, stained, dirty, ragged, burnt in some places, ripped in others… she must have looked like she had stumbled right out of a nightmare.

And then Esmeray reached for her, gently taking her arms in her hands.

Eira could have pulled away. Her body told her to pull away. She didn’t know this female, had never even met her. And yet…

"Come," Esmeray said quietly, "Let's get you washed and into some clean clothes."

She seemingly blinked and Esmeray had her bundled into a thick nightgown and had chivied her back into the kitchen...herbs drying over the the stove, as she put the kettle on and then sat across from Eira to carefully clean the scrapes on her hands. Her hands were spread out on the tabletop, and Esmeray was bent over them, carefully cleaning the scrapes and cuts there with some sort of ointment. The female seemed to be an expert when it came to tending wounds, her movements swift, yet gentle.

The silence in the cabin was so absolute, the only sounds that could be heard were the soft tap tap of the kettle on the stove, the steady hum of the pot, and the occasional stirring of the herbs above.

It was comforting, in an odd way. Like for the first time in a long time, Eira could draw in a deep breath without worrying about what would come next.

Her mind was still so sluggish, but the steam rolling off the kettle, and the clean scent of the herbs all seemed to be slowly coaxing her out of the fog that filled her head.

Perhaps even her body was beginning to relax. Eira felt...more grounded now, like she was less on the verge of collapsing than before. 

The kettle started to whistle, and Esmeray looked up. Her movements were swift, as she took it off the boil and poured the hot water into a teapot. “Here, drink something,” she said, pushing the tea towards Eira, her voice not leaving much room for arguments.

It was a command, not a suggestion. Though Esmeray’s tone was still quiet, kind. Yet there was a hint of a mother’s steel in it. Eira tried to remember her own mother ever cleaning her scrapes and making her tea. She came up empty. 

Her own mother had been more of the opinion that children should be seen not heard. 

Eira couldn’t even remember her mother ever having hugged her, now that she thought of it. 

Esmeray pushed the steaming teacup towards her, raising an expectant, dark eyebrow.

Eira took it, hesitantly wrapping her fingers around the warm cup, and raised it to her lips, hesitating to take a sip. Esmeray was watching her, studying her even now, even in these simple moments. Eira drank, swallowing the bitter, sweet tea.

It burned slightly on the way down, but it seemed to help, as the fog in her mind receded ever so slightly.

“You have three sisters, don’t you? Nesta, Elain and Feyre? Azriel mentioned that.” 

And there it was again. Azriel’s name. Again. He had mentioned her. He’d...spoken about her to his mother.

And somehow Eira still couldn’t wrap her head around it, even as the words echoed in her mind. Azriel mentioned it.

She nodded quietly, a jerky movement that made her head hurt. “Yes.”

Her voice was dry and rasping, and she winced slightly, as she forced the words out.

Esmeray nodded, looking pleased at her answer.

“He’s quite fond of you,” she said simply.

Her words slammed into Eira like a punch to the stomach. He was fond of her. Azriel...He was fond of her.

The words seemed to send a strange sort of shudder through her entire body. He was fond of her. Her mind was still so fuzzy and messy, but the words kept ringing in her head, like a bell someone was tolling over and over again.

He was fond of her.

Esmeray was watching her, her gaze unwavering, and it made Eira realize that the female must have noticed her reaction.

But if she had, she didn’t make any move to mention it. Instead, she just kept looking at Eira, like she was waiting for some sort of reaction.

And so Eira forced herself to speak. “How….how do you know?”

Her words were a bit steadier now, the bitter, yet warm tea working its magic.

“My son may be skilled with the shadows,” Esmeray said with a wry smile, “But he still has the same tell he had from when he was a child. You can tell he’s fond of someone, if you know where to look, even if he doesn’t say it out loud. And he is quite fond of you…though he may be fonder of that twin sister of yours,” she said with a laugh. Elain.

Eira swallowed. She understood what Esmeray was hinting at in a roundabout way without her needing to say another word. "Too bad she turned out to be mated to another," Esmeray said with a sigh.

And just like that, it felt like somebody put a knife straight into her heart and twisted. 

Elain. 

Azriel may was fond of her…but he was fonder of Elain. Elain was the one who Azriel had been in love with. The one he couldn’t have. 

Eira…Eira was just a replacement, wasn’t she? A consolation prize. 

It stung, like a thousand needles stabbing into her skin. A replacement.

She looked down into her teacup, trying to will the stinging in her eyes away.

Esmeray was watching her still, taking note of her reaction again."Why do I feel like I just said something I shouldn’t have, sweetheart?” Esmeray asked softly. 

Eira shook her head, tears stinging into her eyes. 

It wasn't her place to tell Azriel's mother about their mating bond. That should be something that should be coming from him. But Esmeray was watching her and Eira felt like she was seeing everything that was going on in her life. Esmeray was watching her, her eyes sharp and shrewd, as they studied Eira in quiet silence.

And then, all of a sudden, her face softened, and her voice was even softer as she asked quietly, “Did something between you and my son...happen?”

The words seemed to freeze Eira’s lungs.

How had she known? How had she known?

She swallowed, and then opened her mouth, ready to deny the fact...her words dying in her throat.

She couldn’t lie to that face, not the softness in it, not the motherly concern.

The tears came so suddenly they made Eira gasp. They were hot, sliding down her face, and she couldn’t seem to wipe them away, no matter how hard she tried.

Esmeray’s face softened even more, and before Eira knew what was happening, the female was crouched in front of her, her hand reaching up to gently wipe away a stray tear.

“Oh sweetheart...” Esmeray’s voice was soft, almost motherly. “Oh, what’s wrong?” 

The tenderness in the mother’s voice made Eira’s chest ache even through the tears, and a quiet sob escaped her.

What was wrong ? Where to even start? Her powers, the bond, Elain, Azriel, the guilt....

It was all too much.

And yet, Esmeray was there. Her voice soft yet stern, her dark eyes kind and concerned as she sat across from Eira, with no sign of budging. 

“Talk to me, sweetheart,” she said gently. “What happened? What did my idiot of a son do to you?”

“He didn’t do anything,” she protested weakly. “He didn’t…”

“Then what happened?” Esmeray pushed gently. “What happened to you, sweetheart? You don’t just start winnowing accidentally if everything is well, Eira.”

She wasn’t even sure where she was supposed to start. 

“She….Elain is a seer,” she said weakly, her voice broken.

Esmeray nodded slowly, as understanding seemed to flicker on her features, even as she gestured for Eira to keep talking. "She...she had a vision. Of...Of...Azriel and me," Eira managed to bring out, brokenly. "She tried to make sure that it wouldn't come true....Tried to...He...the mating bond...snapped for him two weeks or so ago."

The tears wouldn't stop now. They kept falling, as Eira struggled to get the words out through her tears.

Her voice was a broken mess, and her throat felt so dry, like each word was scratching her already abused vocal cords. But Esmeray stayed quiet, only nodded.

The tears wouldn't stop now. They kept falling, as Eira struggled to get the words out through her tears. "The bond….the bond snapped for Azriel around two weeks ago," Eira finally managed, and then she couldn't stop the words from coming out of her mouth, each one more choked and broken than the last. "She...tried so hard to keep the vision from coming true but...it still happened. It happened. I...I am his...mate"

The words broke off, as the tears came again, the sobs now choking her, "I am his…his mate," she repeated, and just saying the word out loud made the tears flow again, her heart aching almost painfully in her chest.

She was his mate. And yet, he had been…he had been in love with Elain. The one he couldn’t have. She was just the replacement.

The tears were still falling, and the sobs were still wracking her body, as she heard Esmeray’s soft, yet quiet words. “And you….how do you feel about my son?”

"I met him when I was...I was still human," she forced out. "I looked at him and...it was just...I...I fell in love. He was...he was so gentle. Kind. And the shadows…the shadows were so beautiful. I fell in love…before I knew what a  mating bond even was.” She felt her tears starting to flow harder once more, despite her efforts to keep them at bay.

She had loved him before the bond. Even before their magic had intertwined and made them mates, she had loved him. Loved him and all his quiet, dark, beautiful glory. And the fact that he had been in love with someone else….it just made everything hurt worse.

Her tears were now falling more steadily, and no matter how hard she tried to blink them back they wouldn’t stop.

Esmeray was still watching her, her dark eyes fixed on Eira’s quivering form, but she was quiet now, her features thoughtful. There was a weight in the room now as the both of them remained silent.

The only sounds that could be heard were the soft tap tap of the kettle, and the low hum of the pot above the stove, and Eira’s shuddering breaths.

"Drink your tea, sweetheart," Esmeray finally said quietly. "It seems like I need to have a talk with my son about actually writing me more often than monthly."

Eira managed a small, if a bit shaky, snort, even as she brought the mug of tea up to her lips again. As the warm liquid slid down her throat, she slowly, gradually, managed to get her breathing under control again and her tears dried up.

There was nothing she could change about it, could she? 

She had always known that she probably wasn’t going to marry for love. She had just thought that…maybe…maybe becoming Fae would at least grant her that. 

“At least tell me my son didn’t react badly to the news?” It was a quiet question, but Eira could hear the sharp, motherly tone to the it. It was a quiet yet clear demand to know just how exactly her son had taken the news of them being mated.

"He wants to try. He's trying to court me the human way," Eira’s voice was weak…tired. She heard the sharp intake of breath from Esmeray. 

" Human way?” There was a small note of surprise to her voice, but Eira chose to ignore it.

"I used to be human," Eira said weakly. "Then I got thrown into the cauldron." Esmeray just inclined her head in a mute nod, indicating she had understood.

There was a small note of melancholy in her voice, as her dark eyes seemed to study Eira's before her lips curled into a small smile.  “Then I suppose I have plenty to talk to my son about,” she murmured softly. “Are you hungry? I was going to make dinner soon,” she said with a smile. 

Eira opened her mouth to answer and was then interrupted by a white cat that padded into the room, meowing loudly. The cat took one look at Eira, meowed happily, and then hopped into her lap, purring loudly. 

“That’s just Flora,” Esmeray said with a fond smile, "She's probably trying to get away from her babies for a bit. They have turned into little terrors these days."

Eira let out a small, choked laugh, trying and mostly failing to resist the urge to immediately begin rubbing the purring cat behind the ears.

She had always loved cats. It was a small comfort, as the creature rubbed its head against her hand, purring loudly. Just as Esmeray had said, 3 kittens were not far behind their mother.

The three kittens hopped into the room and immediately began climbing up onto the nearest piece of furniture. One managed to scale a nearby bookcase, and another made their way onto the table near the window, while the third decisively scaled Eira’s skirts to curl up on her leg together with its mother. They were adorable, all three of them, small and white fluff balls, stumbling about as they scrambled after their mother.

The kitten immediately nuzzled against Eira’s hand, purring loudly, clearly looking for more pats from her, looking at her with sapphire blue eyes. 

Eira couldn’t help her small smile, as she began to gently rub the kitten behind it’s small ears. The cat seemed to enjoy the attention, as it began purring louder, its little back arching every now and then.

The shadows tightened around her wrist, and she would have laughed at their display of jealousy any other time, but right now it just got a weak smile from her as the kitten curled up on her lap to take a nap. 

“She seems to have taken a liking to you,” Esmeray commented with a smile, watching the kitten rub its head against Eira’s hand, clearly demanding more pats. 

[hazbinwhoree]

can you write a AdamxReader where the reader is a demon who works for val?

With a little smut beginning but the reader gets a trauma response? and Adam comforting them and reassuring them that he isn’t mad that they needed to stop and comforting that he isn’t just after sex with them! (sorry if I wrote this weird idk how to write my IDEAS)

PTSD

A/N: TW for implied sexual assault

(Name) and Adam had been in a secret relationship for a few months now. Secret, seeing as he was an angel and she was a demon. But they made it work.

(Name) worked for Val, or rather, her soul was owned by Val, and she’d met Adam when the Vee’s had a meeting with him. Vox wanted to strike a deal where Adam would kill Alastor during the next extermination.

Val noticed Adam eyeing (Name) and offered her as compensation if Adam could get the job done. Adam looked rather taken aback at such an offer, deals as shady as this were not made in Heaven, and said he’d think about it.

Val said he could have (Name) for an hour to think about it. Adam knew exactly what he meant by that, and it made him a little nauseous. Still, he was left alone with her.

Her, who stared at him in fear, looking like an animal backed into a corner.

“I’m… I’m not going to do anything to you.”

And they spent the hour just talking. When the Vee’s came back, Adam stated his new terms. “I’ll kill Alastor for (Name)’s soul to be released to me.”

Val looked angry and adamantly opposed to the idea, but Vox quickly agreed.

In the months before the next extermination, (Name) and Adam would visit one another on the rare occasions (Name) was able to get away from Val. They’d been together for about four months now, and it was the longest Adam had gone without sex in a minute.

They never went any further than making out, and Adam was okay with moving at (Name)’s pace. He liked her that much.

It was about a month before the extermination and they were making out on the couch in (Name)’s home when she felt his erection against her thigh. Feeling bold, she grinded down in his lap and he groaned. “Don’t start something you can’t finish,” he warned, voice gravelly.

(Name) grinned and grinded down again. Adam bit his lip. He kissed her cheek, then her jaw, moving down to suck on her neck. (Name) sighed contently. One of Adam’s hands snuck up her shirt, groping her chest.

(Name) was enjoying herself, ready to finally go further with Adam as she’d wanted to for months, but then he reconnected their lips and placed a hand on her neck. He didn’t squeeze or anything, but the action caused the reaction that had kept (Name) from acting on her desires for so long.

The hand at her neck, tongue invading her mouth, and erection against her crotch suddenly didn’t belong to Adam as nightmarish flashes of Val and clients played in her head. She pushed against Adam’s chest hard, launching herself off his lap. She fell to the floor and began scrambling backwards, and Adam didn’t know what just happened.

“Fuck, (Name)?”

Adam stood from the couch and (Name) raised her arms above her head like he was going to strike her. Adam was concerned and put his hands up in a disarming gesture. “(Name), it’s me.”

Recognition flashed in (Name)’s wild eyes. “Adam, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I know I initiated and it isn’t fair that I stopped–” Adam cut her off. “Isn’t fair? (Name), you can always say no. I’m sorry I scared you. I shouldn’t have gone so fast.”

“No, I wanted it,” (Name) insisted. “But then… I don’t know. I got triggered I guess.”

Adam carefully approached her, crouching down in front of her. “Because of Val?” he asked quietly. (Name) nodded, a tear slipping down her cheek.

“One more month,” Adam promised. “One more month and you’ll be free. He’ll never hurt you again.”

“But… I won’t be free. You’ll own my soul. Oh god… was that your plan the whole time? Do you just want me for sex?”

Adam shook his head vehemently. “No, babe, of course not. I don’t plan on keeping your soul, I’m going to free you. Plus, I’m pretty sure it’s against like, a fuck ton of rules for an angel to own another soul.”

“Fuck,” (Name) buried her face in her hands. “Of course. I’m so sorry I accused you–” “Hey.”

Adam carefully reached out, taking her hands in his. They were so small in comparison. “Look at me.”

(Name) did, blinking at him through tears.

“I’m not using you for sex, but you have every right to be suspicious. I’m not offended. You’ve been used by everyone in your life and I don’t expect you to trust me at my word that I’m different. I’ll have to prove it to you, and I’m more than fucking fine with that.”

(Name) sobbed, throwing herself into Adam. He caught her and fell on his ass, and they sat there like that for a good five minutes, embracing. Adam’s wings wrapped around them.

“Thank you,” (Name) cried. Adam shook his head. “Don’t thank me for treating you like a person.”

Finally, (Name) calmed down, climbing out of Adam’s lap.

“Fuck,” Adam said, back to himself. “Are the waterworks done? You pussy.” (Name) sniffed and smiled.

There was the Adam she knew best.

[marchofmistria]

A Nice Contrast

A/N: This is my first Fields of Mistria fic so I hope you like it! It's based off March's autumn dialogue when you speak to him at the forge and he tells you that it's nice and warm in contrast to the cold outside <3

Planning to cross-post this to AO3, and will update this post with the link when I do.

Summary: March helps you warm up by the forge when it starts to cool down in Mistria.

Word Count: 2,127

Tags: March x Reader, gender-neutral reader (2nd person), hurt/comfort, fluff

The summer bled into autumn and it was officially cold in Mistria. You felt like you barely had time to catch up, and the first two seasons you spent in the town sped by so fast you could scarcely remember to enjoy the season before it was over. Days at the beach with friends felt long and restful in the moment, and now they let out to a short and cool autumn when a farmer's work is hardest. Your wardrobe had yet to catch up to the change in Mistrian weather, however, and unpacking your warmer clothes was on the to-do list. However, a late start to the day after a late night in the mines and that plan was gone.

It was already 2PM by the time you had finished your daily tasks on your farm. The crops were watered and they had just begun to peer out of the dark soil. Your animals were fed and seemed happy. You sat down for a moment next to Caldarus, chatting with him as you untied your hair and changed out of your farming gloves. There were errands to do today, after all, and Mistria certainly did not rest for you.

As you fell into the swing of the day, your morning plans were quickly and totally forgotten. You didn't have much of a chance to notice; you felt warm from running around the whole town for hours. These townsfolk sure knew how to run you to the ground. First it was a delivery for Balor, then a chat with Nora before returning to Balor, then a trip to the museum to discuss a new finding with Eiland and Errol, some fishing for Reina's new dish at the Inn tonight, and a quick trip to the mines to repair a chip in the metal of your shovel.

Your body had gotten stronger in the last few months since arriving to the small town, but you felt exhausted regardless. Days felt like they ended too soon as is, but as you left the mines, you were truly surprised by the incoming dark. How did it get so late so fast?

The feeling really set in once you set off to the forge to smelt your findings. The breeze blew your hair back and out of your face, exposing your shoulders further and starting a chill down your arms. You felt thirsty and very hungry and realized you missed lunch and would miss dinner if you didn't hurry.

Wanting to catch March before he left the forge for his own dinner, you hurried on, wrapping your arms protectively around your shoulders for some mock-warmth. It did little to help, and you had begun to feel a bit lightheaded.

March seemed to be finishing his work day just as you were arriving, although you knew he would leave the forge hot for you to use at all hours. He had grown accustomed to your habits, knowing how busy you were throughout the day and that you might come to the forge even late at night to squeeze as much into the day as you could before you passed out from exhaustion.

When you finally stumbled up to him, he addressed you with a curt "Hey," his usual attempt at appearing nonchalant. Just as he had grown accustomed to your habits, you had gotten to know his as well. You had gotten pretty good at giving whatever he gave you right back to him, and your conversations were at the point of total ease.

But rather than shooting the shit with him as you usually did, well enough to break down his boundaries to show even some vulnerability (a shock to anyone who had ever spoken to March), you ignored his greeting and rested your hand on the anvil for support. At this point, you felt like it was the only thing supporting your weight up.

March, who often couldn't help but observe you closely whenever you were near him, noticed right away and rushed over to you. His brows knit together, he put a strong arm under your arm for you to lean into. You all but collapsed into his support for a moment, before regaining a bit of strength and using your legs to lift yourself up a bit more again.

"What's wrong?" March asked, an arm still around your torso in case you fully passed out on him. His heart beat faster, worry showing on every feature. As soon as your head stopped spinning a moment later, you looked into his eyes and saw his concern. He couldn't even try and hide his real feelings like he usually did.

You blushed as soon as you realized how close your faces were to each other. The closest they'd ever been, you both quickly noted before pulling away from each other slightly. March did not withdraw his support though, despite the blush that was tinging the tips of his ears.

"Hey, did you hear me? What's wrong? Should I call Valen?" March asked again, concern growing as you didn't answer his first question. Your mind swam back into focus when March reached his hand up, moving your hair out of your face to feel your forehead with his hand. You closed your eyes at the warmth. His hands were rough against the skin of your forehead, but the warmth spread throughout your body.

"O-oh, sorry! I just got dizzy for a second..." You finally stuttered out. The crease between March's brows lessened slightly, but was still visible. He didn't move his hand away from your face. "I think I'm just tired from the mines, and I realized I didn't eat much today. I'll be fine though."

"What the hell? Why didn't you eat anything, dumbass?" March all but barked at you. You couldn't help but smile a bit to yourself. So this is what it looks like when March worried about you...

"Charming as ever, March," you replied quietly, hoping to ease some of his worry and show that you really were okay. But as soon as that signature smirk reappeared, pulling up the corner of his lips, it was gone as you tried to walk again and stumbled once more. The dizziness was back, and you were worried that he may be right about the fever after all.

"Hey, hey... you should sit down. Don't try and stand up again," March commanded, lowering you gently to the ground. You didn't think March was capable of touching anything so gently, let alone you. He kneeled down at your side and made sure you were comfortable with your back propped against the outer wall of his house. "You're freezing... why aren't you dressed more warmly?"

You had nearly forgotten how chilly you'd gotten, and his comment caused a shiver to run down your spine. March had you scoot a bit closer to the fire in the forge. "It's warm by the forge," March said quietly, taking your hands in his and pulling them a bit closer to the fire in an attempt to warm you up a bit faster. "You shouldn't hang around in the cold too long. Especially in what you're wearing! What were you thinking?"

"March, I'm fine. I promise. I'm just a bit tired." You said weakly, hoping to provide reassurance once more (even though you didn't want him to let go of your hands quite yet. The warmth felt too good, both from the forge and from your closeness.)

"Like hell you are. You're gonna sit here while I go find Valen, got it?" You didn't dare defy him while looking into his sharp eyes. "Will you be okay a few minutes alone?" he said, the softness seeping through yet again. Your head was reeling from this contrast alone, and you nodded. March looked back at you one more time as if to verify the truth, his eyes softening as you leaned your head back to rest against the side of the house once more. Just before he left, he took off his brown jacket, throwing it on your lap before he turned and walked to Valen's clinic with speed.

As you waited for March to return with the doctor, you shrugged the jacket onto your cold shoulders. You couldn't help but note how comforting it smelled. It was the same pleasant smell you noticed when March leaned closer to you as you worked at the forge, observing your work and chiming in with helpful comments. It was also the same smell you enjoyed when March all but pulled you to his side at the Inn when he had a couple of beers in him. The warmth spread from your nose to the rest of your body. The smell of a crackling fire, leather, a bit of sweat (not at all unpleasant), and even... chocolate.

You had nearly fallen asleep in the pleasure of the smell alone when you heard March's deep voice coming up the cobblestone path to you. "—seemed like she was gonna faint. She told me she hadn't eaten anything all day, and looked like she was freezing her ass off."

Without a greeting, Valen knelt down to you eye level, checking your forehead with her hand before asking to put a thermometer in your mouth. You noticed how different her hands felt from March's. Soft, gentle, and a bit cold. Clinical was the right word.

"March, please go down to the Inn and grab them a bowl of soup, would you? That would be just the thing, I think." March went right away, as if he was tempted to do just that before Valen had given him the instruction.

"Y/N, you need to take better care of yourself. This behavior is a bit concerning to me, and it seems to March as well. Which, alone, says something, no?" Valen smiled knowingly. She gave you a bottle of water to sip on, and asked if you were still feeling dizzy. You were not. Just plain tired.

"You're running yourself to the ground with work, which I can't say I'm too happy about in the first place. But to make matters worse, skipping meals? Not dressing for the cold weather?" Valen chastised lightly. You were embarrassed that your lack of self-care had caught up with you, and now it was a problem for others as well. You hadn't meant to make anyone worry, which you expressed to Valen.

"You're right. It won't happen again. I'll make sure to take better care of myself," you said softly. "Sorry to make you worry..." Valen chuckled, surprised by your humbleness. "No need to apologize to me. We just want you to be healthy. You may not realize it, but everyone in this town has really grown to care for you. I know you want to take on everyone's problems, but I really think people would be more grateful if you watched out for yourself before you burn out all your energy."

Cheeks burning, all you could muster was a nod of your head. March returned with the soup in his hands. The steam that rose from it looked so incredibly appealing. March sat down next to you. "Have enough strength to hold the bowl or do I need to feed you?" March scoffed.

You shook your head, offering a small smile and thanking Valen again when she told you to monitor your condition and find her right away if you felt bad again. March sat next to you as you took spoonful after spoonful of the delicious vegetable soup. March said nothing, but in the silence you could tell he was making sure you finished every drop in the bowl. As soon as you had taken the last spoonful, March removed the bowl from your hands and set it down on the floor. "I'll bring this back later," said March.

"Do you think you can stand? I'll walk you back to your house," March sighed, extending his hand out for you to grab. The combination of the soup, the fire in the forge, and the presence of March next to you made you regain much of your strength. You grabbed March's hand and used it as leverage to pull yourself up to stand. Still wearing his brown leather jacket, the two of you set off in the direction of your farm.

It was only after March saw your front door close behind you and the lights flip on in your bedroom that he turned to head back home. Something about the thought of his jacket in your bedroom made his heart beat faster, and you both fell asleep that night heated by the feeling of each others proximity that lingered and left its warmth in you through the entire night.

[narrycherries]

call it what you want✨pt.5

..

masterlist // part 4

word count: 9.7k

warnings/tags: harry x reader, best friends to lovers, smut, oral, blowjob, fingering

Harry was carrying in the few groceries you bought before coming back to your house. He drove you home, since Stephanie had picked you up earlier. You both had a pretty good and believable excuse to not attend the after dinner celebration with everyone. Nobody questioned it, not even the fact Harry was driving you home. They didn’t care, and you were glad.

“Can you put that stuff up, please?” You asked with a sweet voice as you shut the door behind Harry and turned the lock.

He sat the bags on the countertop and gave you a glance. “Yeah, I got it.”

“M’gonna go use the bathroom and.. wash my face off.” You sat mid stretch, your body starting to ache from the long day you had.

“Meet you on the bed, darling.” He smiled back, making your cheeks flush a little.

You left him in the kitchen and made your way to the bathroom in the hallway. Your apartment was about the same size as his, but you had a roommate that shared the space with you. Harry lived alone, which made things a lot easier when it came to being with him privately. It’s not a regular thing for your roommate to be gone for the weekend, so you were taking advantage of it.

Harry put away the ice cream, grapes, and the other random assortment of items you bought, while you were washing your face free of makeup and taking care of your business. Once he was finished, he pulled off his shoes and cut off the kitchen light before heading to your bedroom. He always enjoyed staying with you because he thought your bed was way more comfortable than his. You had thick, fluffy pillows, a cozy comforter, and a few stuffed animals that embarrassed you, but he thought they were adorable.

He took his shirt off and laid it over the back of your vanity chair, along with his jeans. He knew he had a few clothing items here, so he went to the usual drawer they were in to find them. The bottom drawer of your dresser was the spot you kept his clothes in. You had way more clothes at his place than he did here, but you were over there more than he was here so it made sense. He grabbed a pair of pajama pants, the only pair actually, and slid them up his legs. You had gotten to where you didn’t want him to wear a shirt, for obvious reasons.. things had changed and you particularly enjoyed touching his bare skin while you slept.

You tossed the hand towel you used to wash your face into the hamper before stepping out of the bathroom. When you appeared in your bedroom door, Harry was facing away you from on the edge of the bed with his phone in his hand. You smiled to yourself and took the chance to be a little sneaky. He had no idea you were in the room, he didn’t even hear the bathroom door open when you came out. You ran towards him, the sound of your feet hitting the floor caught him off guard. He looked up just in time to see you leaping on to him.

“Boo!” You screamed as your arm flew around his neck and you tackled him onto the mattress.

He was laughing hard, sort of frightened by your sudden appearance. “Oh, that’s what we’re gonna do, hm?” He said while grabbing your waist.

He was much stronger than you, so it wasn’t a surprise when he overpowered you and rolled you onto your back. His fingers were rubbing against your skin under your shirt, tickling you like it was his only job. And it was a torturing act.

“Harry!” You squealed out, trying to fight him back.

He was enjoying your efforts of trying to push him over, so he let you take over. He fell onto his back on the bed and you quickly climbed on top of him. You were sitting on his thighs, your fingers grabbing and pinching his sides. He was laughing just as hard as you were, and it felt so freeing to be normal with him. All night you had wanted to just touch him like you always do when you're alone and finally you were able to.

Harry tried to take control again by reaching for your waist, but quickly grabbed his wrists and forced his arms down by his head, leaning down to be close to his face.

“Nope!”

He smirked. “You can’t hold me down forever, peach.”

“Says who?”

“Your arms are gonna get tired.” He chuckled back, admiring how pretty you looked with flushed cheeks and a big grin.

“You’re calling me weak? That’s so mean.” You faked an eye roll and a pout, which made him laugh a little more.

“Just being honest, honeybun.”

Hearing him say one of the more special and affectionate pet names made your heart skip a beat. He had avoided them most of the night, and you noticed. It was for obvious reasons, but it still sucked that you couldn’t hear the names you adored. He noticed how you were looking at him, and it was a familiar look.

He lifted a brow gently. “I’ll go easy on you.”

“Don’t need you to. M’gonna beat you.”

Harry’s chuckle made you grin, and it was motivation for you to overpower him. He started laughing again, shaking his head in disbelief. You leaned down to his face and pressed a gentle kiss onto his dimple. The corner of his mouth pulled upward to a smirk, making you blush. You lifted yourself back up, hands still gripping his wrists to keep him down.

“That’s not fair, y’know.” He said with a cock of his eyebrow.

“What’s not?”

His eyes were full of stars, and you realized it was the same look he had given you that very first time he kissed you. It was the exact way your eyes look whenever you’re admiring him.

“Teasing me.. could’ve given me a little more.”

You grinned, then rolled your eyes again. “You’re so greedy.”

“C’mon.. just give me one more.”

The thought of you being in control was intimidating, yet intriguing. You could do whatever you wanted, and you knew he’d support it. You let out a breathy laugh, amused by his fake pout and pleading eyes. Without saying a word, you lowered yourself again. This time, you moved more slowly. He huffed as you brushed his lips against his cheek, but didn’t touch his skin. He wanted your lips on his, and you knew that, but you were debating on giving in to him. It would be cruel to not give him what he wanted, because he would easily give you whatever you asked for. You smiled sweetly, then carefully placed your pouted lips onto his. He grunted, trying to part his lips to let his tongue come out, but you shook your head. You didn’t want to give away too much just yet.

“You’re so mean.” He muttered while you moved away from his mouth.

“You’ll be okay. You’re a big boy, you can take it.”

“You should let me go.” He said with a smile, his dimples sinking deep in his cheeks.

“And why should i?” You scoffed, trying to keep your guard up but it wasn’t working. He could tell you were wanting to do something more than this.

“Just trust me.”

“No.” You shook your head. “You’re gonna try to win and I’m not letting you.”

Harry smiled back, trying to get you to understand his intentions without saying anything directly. “C’mon, just for a minute? Promise I won’t tickle you.”

You snarled at him, thinking about what tricks he could be planning behind that sweet smile. “If you do.. I’m going to attack you.”

“I promise I won't.” He laughed through his words as you let up your hold on his wrists, not sure what he was wanting to do.

You let out a squeal as he swiftly sat up and locked an arm around your back to keep you in place. He grabbed your hips and moved your body up his legs so that you were sitting on his crotch, feeling his growing bulge beneath you. It wasn’t hard yet, but you could tell it was different than usual.

“Harry.” You nervously whispered as your hand held onto his nape for support. He wasn’t going to let you slip, and you knew that, but you were anxious.

“It’s been too long since I’ve really got to kiss you, darling.” He said in a low voice, his lips pressing into the corner of your mouth.

“Tryin’ to be sweet to me, hmm?” You said with a smile as you moved your other hand onto his neck, feeling his warm skin and strong pulse beating against your palm was comforting.

“Always, peach.”

“Why do you keep doing this to me?” You breathed out softly, closing your eyes as your forehead pressed onto his.

He chuckled a little, digging his fingertips into your waist. “What do you mean?”

You shook your head and moved so your mouth was next to his ear. Your hand shifted to his shoulder, and you held on to him for dear life. If you let go, you feared he’d disappear and this would all be a dream.

“You.. you keep making me want to.. to risk everything.”

He furrowed his brows a bit, even though you couldn’t see them. “Darling, I told you.. it’s fine. And.. and if you don’t want.. to do anything, just tell me and I’ll stop.”

You didn’t say anything, which caused him to start worrying. Did he take it too far too soon? You had only had two intimate moments, he didn’t consider the usual cuddling or the new occasional kissing to be too intense. He was afraid you’d hate him for doing this.

“I’m sorry. I’ll stop.” He finally huffed out as you stayed quiet.

You whined when he let you go, trying to silently tell you that you could move off his lap. “No, Harry.”

“Honey, you’re.. you’re confusing me a bit.” He reached up to grab your jaw and tilt your head back, not wanting to repeat the same conversation as before - but he had to make sure you were on board. “Do you wanna do things like this? Nothing.. nothing has to be at risk.”

You groaned, your nails gently scraping at his shoulder. “Of course I do.. you know that I do.”

He smiled when you gave him a pout. “Then trust me.. and trust yourself. If you want to.. then you’ll know.”

“I do.. I know I do.”

“Okay. Then.. don’t worry about it, alright? Everything is going to be alright.”

You took a deep breath and let your head fall back. You pushed it out along with a groan that made him chuckle and squeeze your waist on either side.

“This is so frustrating.”

“It doesn’t have to be that way.” He reminded you, again. “Just let loose with me.. It’s just us in here, nobody’s watching.”

Nothing left your mouth as you leaned forward, falling against his body. He was smirking as your other hand started trailing up his chest. You were slow and methodical with your movement, making sure you felt every groove, dip, and shape of his toned body

“Kiss me, please.” You whispered against his chin, wanting nothing more than to get lost in his mouth.

Without any more hesitation, he moved his mouth onto yours and started synching his lips with how yours moved. It was as magical as ever, and for some reason this felt even more special. You grunted gently as he gave your waist a hard squeeze, making sure your body was as close as it could get to his.

Harry wasn’t being shy with where his hands went, and you were perfectly okay with that. He was switching between gripping your hips and rubbing up and down your sides. Each time his hands would return to your hips, he’d push you down a little, trying to create a little friction.

“Harry.” You gasped suddenly, detaching your lips from his.

He looked at you with a bit of worry, not sure if he was going too far. He knew you could feel his hardening bulge. When you glanced down, he licked his lips and shook his head.

“Sorry.”

You frowned a little. “What?”

“Is.. is this too much?’

You hated seeing that look on his face - like he was ashamed or embarrassed about what he was doing. You put on a smile and grabbed either side of his face, pulling it to yours. Harry groaned into the kiss, surprised that you pushed your tongue that far into his mouth. When you tore away from him, you gasped and dug your hips harder into him.

“No, it’s fine.” You muttered back, shocked by the amount of friction it caused to your clit.

“Sure?”

“Yeah.. feels nice.” You said with blushing cheeks and a cute smile.

He chuckled back, helping you move your hips back and forth on top of him. “Yeah?”

“Mhm, are you okay with it?”

Harry let out a laugh and answered by pulling you back in for a sloppy kiss. It was amazing to experience this with him. You were getting bolts of pleasure shooting through your body as the right amount of pressure would cause a satisfying rub to your clit. Harry’s pajama pants were thin, and so were your panties. He could feel how wet you were getting, how warm you were - and it was driving him mad. If you had put on shorts instead of a big t-shirt, he wouldn’t have been able to notice it and maybe he wouldn’t be this affected. He didn’t mind, in fact he was quite excited about it. Would anything come from it? He wasn’t sure and he was okay if it didn’t, but at least the grinding would be a nice sensation for you both.

“Harry, please.” You mumbled out as you pulled away from his mouth, your fingers digging into his neck on either side.

“What is it, darling?”

“Please, I.. I want.. you to touch me.” Your words were soft as you tried to catch your breath.

He licked his lips. “Like last time?”

You nodded quickly. “Mhm, please.”

“Okay, sure. I’d love to.”

A grin covered your lips as you met his stare. “Pretty please.”

“Don’t have to beg me, darling.” His wink made your heart skip a beat. “Wanna lay down?”

“Mhm.”

He bit down on his cheek as you climbed off his lap and crawled away from him. He followed you, allowing you to get situated how you wanted of course. You ended up laying all the way down, your head on the pillow until his arm slid underneath you. It was just like last time. He was as close as he could get, and you adored that.

“Eager, hm?” He said with a chuckle as you grabbed his wrist and brought it onto your stomach.

“Something like that.” You muttered back as you turned your head towards him.

“Do you want the cover on you?”

“No, it’s too hot.”

You pulled your t-shirt up, bunching the fabric together just below your boobs. You weren’t comfortable just yet with being completely exposed to him, and he was okay with that. As long as you were content, he was fine with whatever you decided on.

“Hmm, that tickles.” You let out a gentle laugh while he was rubbing his hand in a circle over your stomach.

“I could just look at your tummy and you’d get ticklish, hm?” He pressed his lips on your temple.

“Hey, um.. can.. can you do it more than once time?” Your sudden question made him smirk.

“As many times as you want, darling.”

He wasted no time. Hesitation would only make you feel more nervous, and he didn’t want that. You took a deep breath as his hand moved between your parted legs. You lifted a knee up, letting your leg rest against his as he gave you a few gentle pats. Each one made you jolt a little. He was watching your face closely, making sure you were liking what he was doing.

“Already excited, hm?” He asked with a teasing chuckle as his fingers rubbed against the fabric of your panties - you were soaking through just a bit.

“Please.” You whisper softly as your hand moves to his forearm. You wanted to feel him, hold on to him to convince yourself this was real.

He drew his hand away for a moment, just to sit it over your navel. “Remember what I told you last time?”

You nod lightly. “I’m in charge.”

“Exactly.” He shifted his head so he could kiss your lips for just a moment. You wished it had been for longer. “You’re the boss, got it?”

“Got it.”

He pecked your cheek before sliding his hand down again. His fingers hit the waistband of your underwear and you took a deep breath.

“Keeping these on?” He muttered as his finger hooked under the thin edge.

You pushed out the breath. “Yeah.. I.. I like seeing your hand in them.”

Harry’s eyebrows lifted and he gave a you a grin. “Oh, really? Someone’s a little dirty, hm?”

Your cheeks caught flames and you sunk your nails into his arm. “Harry, stop!”

He was amused by your embarrassed whine. “Don’t be shy, doll. Got a little dirty mind.. s’cute.”

The eye roll you gave him was partially playful. “Don’t be a butt right now.”

“M’not, darling. It’s just really.. hot to hear you say you like seeing my hand in your panties.”

You craned your neck to look up at him. His eyes were staring directly at you, of course, and it made your stomach churn with excitement. A smirk was toying on his lips.

“Please, m’gonna go crazy if you don’t start.”

He felt himself twitch, but he ignored it and tried to stay calm. This was about you and your pleasure, right now he didn’t care about himself. He quickly brought his fingers to his mouth and spit on them, which got your heart racing.

“Please.” You mumbled out again as he finally slipped his hand under the cotton fabric, your toes were already curling from the anticipation.

“Mmm, you’re so warm, darling.” He whispered to you while his fingers began exploring your small folds. As much as he wanted to see you bare, he was appreciating the feeling of every inch of you - every contour, every thin piece of skin, every single thing. “Fuck, and so wet for me, yeah?”

“Mhm, for you.” You uttered out through a whine, wishing he’d stop the teasing.

A moan fell past your lips as Harry began circling two fingers around your clit. He started off slow, but it didn’t stay that way for long. You grunted as he sped up, pressing down harder to give you the best feelings. His eyes were glued to your face as you squeezed your eyes shut and let out a continuous string of soft moans from your parted lips. He wanted to kiss them, wanted to make them red and swollen, but he was too focused on his movements. Besides, he adored watching you like this - the way your eyebrows knitted together, how your nose scrunched up, and how your teeth would bite down on your bottom lip. He admired every second of it.

“Oh my god.”

“Yeah? Feel good, darling?”

Harry chuckled a little at your moan. Your legs were moving around, your face was almost in the crook of his neck. Thoughts were filling his mind of things he wanted to do to you one day. He thought about how pretty you look down there, and he hoped he could see it soon. There were ideas of how you tasted, how you felt inside - he even wondered what your breasts were like. He knew he’d love them no matter what, and he was patiently waiting for the day you’ll show him. He tried to stay focused, but it was difficult.

Your nails scratched down his arm until your hand was tightly squeezing his wrist. It wasn’t preventing him from moving though, he didn't let up one bit. Moans filled the room as he added a third finger to your clit, just to be sure he was giving you enough friction. And he definitely was.

“Oh, Harry, please!” You cried out as he was pulling you to the edge.

“Want you to cum for me, peach, okay? Cum all over my fingers.”

You gasped suddenly, a bolt of electricity shot through your body. The pleasure was intense and magical, it couldn’t get better than this. Harry gave you a little grunt as you reached up to his neck to grab a hold of him.

“Please, please, kiss me, Harry.” You begged in between moans.

He gladly obliged and let you pull him down to your lips. His tongue swept into your mouth, and immediately you were exploding inside. It was so, so close. Harry kept his speed consistent as his mouth moved with yours. There was nothing you wanted more than to melt into him.

“Oh, fuck.” You tore your mouth from his, but didn’t move it.

His forehead pushed on yours as you moaned his name again, making his chest tighten up. “Close, darling? Cum for me.”

“Harry!” You squealed the second you felt your nerves electrify - waves of pleasure rushing through. His filthy words were working.

Your lips were rubbing against the corner of his mouth as you struggled to get your words out. “Fuck, Harry, m’cumming. I’m- I’m cumming, Harry.”

As you fell apart, he kept his pace and rubbed through your orgasm. You were throbbing and tingling, the feeling was intense you were becoming numb. He eased up on you, coming to a stop as your thighs squeezed together. He leaned his head back just a little to get a better look at you. Of course it was a glorious sight - your eyes were hardly opened as you sucked in and pushed out quick breaths. Your lips were a little swollen, and a bit of drool had collected in the corner of your mouth. He decided to give you a peck, just so he could he lick it up. It made you giggle, but you were still trying to catch your breath.

“Fuck.” You muttered when he pulled himself back up. “That’s.. amazing.”

“Yeah? Feel good?”

Your eyes moved to his and you gave him a gentle shake of your head. “Good? No.. incredible.”

His lips shaped to a smile, he was both proud of himself for making you feel nice and glad that you were this pleased. “Wanna go again?”

You let your thighs relax, but you quickly moved your hand to his - which was still in your panties. He laughed a little as your nails dug into his skin.

“Not yet.. need a bit.. to relax.”

After a few quiet moments, you brought your hand back up to your stomach and let it rest there. Harry’s hand was covering you entirely, but not pressing down hard enough to irritate your clit. He didn’t want to overdo it while you were recovering.

“Thank you.. so.. so much.” You said with a blushing smile as you finally regained some of your awareness and found his eyes.

“Don’t have to thank me.” He said back in a soft voice.

You didn’t respond, only because you were getting lost in his eyes. He was so handsome, and you felt incredibly lucky to be this close to him. Not only that, but you felt like it was a once in a lifetime opportunity to have him all to yourself. There was a part of you that was very anxious about everything. You could lose him at any point. Someone could run into him randomly at a store and he could fall in love.. You feared that. It would be devastating to lose him. But for now, you focused on the fact he was actually here with you. He was all yours, even if it is just for now.

“What’s on your mind?” He asked quietly, his brows softly furrowing as he watched your facial expression shift.

“Nothing.”

“Hmm.” He didn’t believe you, but he chose not to pester you.

You didn’t want to ruin the moment, so you pushed all those thoughts away and let other ones come to the front of your mind. Harry smiled as you suddenly became very flushed and nervous.

“Can.. um.. can you..” You thought you were brave enough, but you weren’t.

Harry pressed a kiss to your forehead. “What is it, peach? Hmm?”

You shrugged lightly, not wanting to say it anymore. There was no point in trying to avoid it, though, especially since you wanted to bring it up so bad. You wanted to try it again and hopefully succeed at it. Last time, you figured you were too overwhelmed by everything to even focus on it. But now, even though it was only the second time, you wanted to try it.

“Your finger.. can you.. put it in for just a little bit? Wanna try.. to take it this time.”

Harry made sure to smile sweetly when you looked back at him. “Are you sure? I don’t wanna hurt you, sweetheart.”

“Promise, m’sure.”

He nodded gently, but didn’t say anything. You felt a lump begin to form in your throat. Did he not want to do it? Surely, you thought, he would be okay with that. Besides, he was the one who suggested it last time. Before you had time to worry too much, he finally spoke.

“Can.. can I ask you something first?”

“Yeah, ‘course.” The nervousness only got a bit worse.

Harry took a breath and glanced away from your eyes for a quick moment. You could tell he was also a bit unsure in the moment. You were worried that something bad would happen.

“Are you a virgin? I.. I don’t want to hurt you.” His words were soft, and his eyes were staring at you intensely again. He was worried, that was it.

“No.. just.. did it twice, though.” You told him, despite not wanting to admit to him that you had very little experience. That wasn’t his concern, though.

“Tell me if it hurts, okay?” He furrowed his brows a bit, making sure you knew he was being serious.

“Okay, I will.”

“Are you ready?”

You figured you were calm enough to start again. He took your nod as a sign of permission. There was a new, much higher level of sensitivity present now. Harry’s middle finger was gently rubbing through you, collecting your wetness on his skin.

“Gonna go slow, okay?”’ He said in a mumble as he gently rubbed the tip of his finger around your opening.

“Okay.. I’ll be fine.” You told him with a smile, but he was still nervous about the possibility of harming you.

He carefully slid his finger inside of you, going as slow as he could. He was very attentive to everything - from the little grunts you let out to the natural clenching you were doing. The last thing he wanted was to go too fast.

“Oh.” You gasped as his knuckle suddenly hit you. You hadn’t realized he was all the way in.

“Are you okay?”

You curled your hand around his elbow. “Mhm.”

He wasn’t sure if you were being honest with him, but at the same time he didn’t want to upset you - so, he pulled his finger out halfway, then pushed it back in. You whimpered, but weren’t seeming to be in any major pain.

“Just gotta get used to it, yeah?” He said comfortingly, trying his best to be there for you in case you were becoming nervous. You were actually okay, for now. “Do you do this yourself?”

You shook your head softly. “Not.. not a lot.. and.. your finger’s.. bigger than mine.”

He sighed. “Yeah, I know.. Promise me it’s good?”

“Promise, Harry.”

Once he had done it a few times, and he realized you were really okay and comfortable, he started going a little faster. You moaned softly, turning your head so that it was against his neck. He hadn’t noticed how close he had gotten until your lips were brushing his skin.

“I’ll take good care of you, yeah?” He said with a low, rumbling voice that made your stomach bubble. “Make everything feel so good.”

“Yeah.. feels great, Harry.” You assured him with a quick kiss to his skin.

He kept on, making sure his finger wasn’t jabbing into you. His movements were easy, gentle, and purposeful - his intention was to make you feel good. That pleasure was his focus, and it seemed like he was doing a good job at it by the way you were reacting.

“Oh, Harry.” You muttered out, your voice barely audible.

He smiled to himself and carefully pushed his finger in. You grunted when he didn’t retract it, he was frozen. You opened your eyes and moved your head to find his face. He was watching you, chuckling as you let out a whine and pinched his skin.

“Do you want to try a second one?” He asked in a calming voice, a slight lift of his brow followed his words.

You didn’t hesitate, just gave him a quick nod. He pulled his finger out and pressed it against a second one. You held your breath as he toyed at your opening for a moment, before finally pushing them back in. The feeling was different than when you did two of your own fingers. You rarely did that anyways, so it was almost a foreign sensation altogether.

“Is this okay?”

“Mhm, s’good.” You wanted to let out a moan but you didn’t. There was a small voice in your head that kept repeating: keep it together, don’t be too loud. You didn’t want to sound desperate, no matter how amazing it felt.

Harry was utterly amazed by how incredible you looked while taking his fingers like this. He was lost in his thoughts about the things he wanted to do with you, but he kept a piece of his attention locked on you. Your mind was practically spinning at this point, the pleasure was taking over.

You didn’t care how many fingers he had in or how fast he went, you were extremely sensitive and he was working to make that feeling even stronger. Your eyes rolled back as you felt a sudden wave ripple through your body. You snuck your hand into your panties, shoving beneath his to rub your clit. He bit down on his cheek as he watched you pleasure yourself. Within a few seconds, your thighs were shaking and your head was thrashing.

“Harry!” You squealed out as your fingers moved as quick as they could.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” He uttered as your walls clenched around his fingers as hard as you could. It wasn’t something you could control in the moment, but he was eating it up.

“Okay, okay, okay.” You quickly grabbed his wrist and tried to pull his hand away.

He obliged and took his hand out of your underwear. You were still holding onto his wrist, and as you moved his hand closer to you, the glistening of your release on his skin caught your eye. Something inside of you sparked, and it was the most glorious sight you’d ever seen.

“Look at that.. covered me.” He said with a soft chuckle, just as amazed as you were.

You swallowed, trying to calm yourself down but your chest was still rapidly lifting and falling. “It.. was.. insane.”

A smile grew on his lips and he leaned down to press a kiss to your slightly sweaty forehead. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

You grunted, appreciating his care for you but wishing he wouldn’t ask that again. “No.. I love your fingers.”

“I already knew that, peach.” He shifted his eyes to his hand. “You’ve always had a thing for my hands, hm? Love holding them.. touching them.. love them in your panties.”

“Fuck.. please, don’t.. tease me right now.” You couldn't help but let out a small laugh.

Part of your mind was still foggy and trying to recover from the intense sensations your body endured just moments ago. And you weren't sure if your newest thoughts were due to that haze, or if you were thinking about them before.. You pulled Harry’s hand closer to your face, which made him very intrigued. He watched you carefully, not sure what to expect.

Perhaps you were just amazed by the amount that gushed from you, or maybe you were just admiring his fingers. Like he said, you have always loved his hands. But there was something more interesting on your mind, something that he definitely wouldn’t have predicted.

“I want you.. to taste me.” You said with a bold confidence that you were even surprised by.

Harry’s eyes shot to yours, and he didn’t hesitate. Your hand slid down to his forearm, still gripping him, as he brought his fingers to his mouth. He stuck them in one at a time, sucking them clean of your release. His eyes were fixed on yours the entire time, never once did he tear them away. You felt butterflies swarming in your stomach as he finished, licking his lips clean, too.

There was a silence, and you were afraid maybe he didn’t like it. He lowered his hand, moving it onto your neck to shift your head. He smirked, clearly satisfied by his experience.

“Sweet like a peach.”

Courage and lust were battling for control as you swiftly sat up and began trying to climb on top of him. His hands grabbed your body as he moved himself up against the headboard and your fluffy pillows. Before either of you realized it, you were on top of his lap again. But this time you were starving for him. You sat aside your worries and all those thoughts that were clogging your mind and you just kissed him.

Time was lost. All you could focus on was his tongue sliding against yours and his hands roaming your body. You felt him in his underwear, how stiff and ready he was. There were no other ideas in your mind - nothing you wanted more than him. Harry pulled back from your kiss as you grind your crotch against him. He looked down to witness it, and he felt like he could explode. Your nails dug into his shoulder as you looked down, too. It was definitely a sight to see.. something you could have never imagined weeks ago.

“Baby.” His deep, warm voice made your heart melt.

You found his eyes and smiled as you saw how desperate he appeared. You moved your fingers into his hair, rubbing the back of his head as he pulled you forward.

“Can I see you?” He asked, lifting his brows.

You gulped quietly, trying to avoid any anxious feelings from building up. You parted your lips to speak, but no words came out. His big, heavy hands were under your shirt already, but as he moved them up your waist close to your breasts, you realized what he meant.

“Just.. just want to see you.” He said in a softer voice, almost like he regretted asking. “You’re so gorgeous.. everywhere.. I just know it.”

After staring at him for a few long moments, wondering why you were being so hesitant towards this, you finally gave him a nod. He happily smiled and started pulling your shirt over your head. When you felt the cool air hit your skin, you shivered and twisted your fingers in his hair. He grunted as you gave him a gentle tug. His eyes dropped down your body slowly, soaking up the new found territory.

“Am.. am I.. okay?” You asked through a whisper.

He lifted his head and gave you a gentle laugh. “Okay? Baby, you're perfect.”

You gasped as his lips began attacking your neck. He sucked marks and left kisses all over your skin as he moved down your neck, over your collarbones, and ending up on your breasts. His hand pressed into your back as he shoved his face into your boobs, spreading his affection as much as he could. Your head fell back and you moaned as his teeth bit into your delicate skin, and his lips wrapped around your nipple.

Harry was not expecting to feel your hand brushing over his crotch. He tore away from your boob and gave you a curious look. Even when you climbed on to his lap, he wasn’t sure if it would lead to anything. You had been taking things slow and he was okay with that.

“I want to see you.” You said with a giggle as you repeated his request.

He licked his lips and smirked back. “Go ahead.”

You put on a brave front and reached into his underwear. As your hand wrapped around him, you were taken aback by the size and the feeling. It was much different than you imagined it would be. It was heavier and bigger than you expected, but not dangerously big. You were somewhat confident.

“You’ve had sex..but have you..” His voice trailed off and when you looked up at him, he was looking down at the bed. He was shaking his head to himself.

“Given a blow job?” You said suddenly, making his gaze dart back to yours.

He dropped his brows, his eyes intensely watching yours. “Yeah.”

As much as you wanted to show him you weren’t a first timer, that you were capable of doing all those hot, sexy things with him.. you were out of your comfort zone and knowledge with this one. You thought back to your previous situations and how you weren’t willing to do it then. Maybe you were just more afraid back then, or maybe you thought those relationships would go further and eventually you’d get the chance to. You hadn’t realized your eyes fell from his until you blinked and saw you were looking at the pillow next to him.

“I.. I’ve never..” You muttered back, feeling like you just took a massive hit to your gut. Was this the stopping point?

Harry reached up and carefully placed his hand on your neck. Your gaze moved back to his face and he gave you a soft, comforting smile.

“You don’t have to.”

You huffed back. “But I want to.. can you tell me how? Tell me.. what you like?”

He pushed your body closer to his, igniting a kiss. You squeezed him, and that alone would have made him cum if he hadn’t drilled into his mind that he would be patient with you, and for you.

“Just.. do what you think I’d like.” He said as you slowed the kiss to a stop.

“What if I don’t do it right?”

He smiled, amused by your innocence but excited for your intentions. “Trust me.. you won’t mess up.”

“Okay.” You fought off the nerves and just moved around until you were sitting between his spread legs and your knees were digging into the mattress.

“Damn.” Harry groaned as he helped you pull himself out of his underwear. “You’re so hot.”

You rolled your eyes and playfully smiled. You were glad he was just as excited as you were, but there was an ounce of worry you were struggling with. Of course you knew what to do, but the issue was doing it right..

“There you go.” He mumbled as you started to pump his length.

Your eyes were locked on him. He was reacting well to your hand, especially as you gripped it and squeezed in different spots. You were familiar with this part, it was the next portion that was intimidating.

Harry kept his eyes on you as licked your thick lips and leaned down to his cock. Before he could process one more second, your lips were enveloped around him. You sucked on his tip for a few seconds before letting it pop out, then your tongue swiped up his entire length. He let out a heavy groan and let his head fall back. That told you enough - you were doing it right.

“Fuck, peach.” The way he moaned that silly, but very special, pet name made your heart start to race. “You.. are you sure you’ve.. never done this?”

You dug your nails into his thigh as you twirled your tongue around him. He was lost in the bliss, but he wanted to watch you. You could feel his stare, but it only made you more motivated to do a good job. There wasn’t much anxiety hanging around now, you were fine. You liked the way it felt to have your mouth full of him. There was no way this would be the last time you’d do this.

Harry was falling apart above you. Moans and grunts filled the air as he gripped the sheet with one hand. The other was combing through your hair, pushing it out of the way as you sucked him until your cheeks were hollow. Your face was flushed and your lips swollen. But it was a beautiful scene in his eyes. You scooted yourself back, allowing for easier access. He just watched in awe as you gave him your first blow job. He was sure nobody’s first one was as good as yours. It was unbelievable.

“There you go, fuck, babe.” Harry moaned out as you flicked your tongue over the slit in his tip.

He was starting to convince himself this wasn’t real. How could it be possible that you’re propped up on the bed with your mouth around his cock and your ass sticking in the air? He tried so hard to not come undone, not yet at least - it was too soon.

“Fuck, baby.. you gotta stop.” He grabbed your head and pulled you up. “M’gonna cum if you don’t.”

You pouted and tried to take him back in your mouth, but he didn’t let you. “I want you to.”

He was breathing heavily, trying to compose himself. “Right now or when.. we..”

As your eyes widened, his words came to a halt. He looked away from you for a moment, unsure of what to say next. Did you want to go all the way? He definitely knew he did, but he’d be fine if you chose not to. You let go of his cock and wiped your hand on your thigh. There was spit on your skin and all over your lips. You threw your leg over his and returned to your previous spot. Without speaking, you grabbed his face and brought his lips to yours. You didn’t kiss him, just leaned close enough so they touched.

“I want you, please.”

The sound he made resembled a growl. You squealed as he grabbed you by your waist and pushed you onto the bed. He was quick to climb over you, his lips sucking a line down your arm as his fingers toyed with your panties. Your fingers curved over his jaw as he bit down on your wrist just slightly, making you wince. He pressed a kiss over each of your fingertips before lowering himself between your legs.

He grabbed your knees and pushed your legs upward. You took a deep breath as you felt his lips press on your covered clit. He pecked a line of kisses down your panties, until he reached your butt. You held your hand over your breast as he sucked a mark onto your cheek, biting down again just enough to make your toes curl.

“Harry, please.” You breathlessly begged, your hand searching for his. You grabbed his wrist and held onto him.

He flattened his tongue and licked a stripe up your panties, the pressure of his tongue made you tingle. You needed more of him, you needed to feel him.. He sat up on his knees and quickly hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties. You locked eyes as he slid them off your legs and threw them down. He pushed your knees apart and fell forward, his mouth meeting yours for a few seconds.

You grabbed his face with both hands, holding him still as you pushed your forehead on his. “I want this.. so bad.”

He chuckled softly, his lips curving to a smile. “I want this, too, peach.”

“Peach.” You muttered back, your heart melting in your chest.

“Always my little peach, aren’t you?” He whispered through his smile. “Gonna eat you up, peach.”

“Please.”

He kissed you again for a moment before grabbing the backs of your knees to hold your legs up. You nervously laughed as he stared down at your exposed body. He could hardly believe this was real. His stare burned holes through you while he examined the newfound flesh.

“Fuck..” He breathed out while sinking between your legs. “Your pussy’s perfect.”

You shuddered at his filthy comment, your eyes squeezing shut. He glanced up at you, pleased by the fact your fingers were squeezing your breast as you waited patiently for him.

“Soaked for me.. of course.” He smirked to himself as his tongue coated his lips. “M’gonna wreck your sweet pussy, baby.”

Instantly, your eyes fell to the back of your head. Each stroke of his tongue through your folds was taking your breath away. He went slow and delicate at first, in order to appreciate every inch of you.

“Oh, Harry.” You mumbled out as he poked his tongue in your hole, just teasing you a little, before returning to your clit.

He switched between twirling his tongue around your swollen nub and taking it into his mouth to suck on it. Each decision he made was creating waves of pleasure that rippled through your body, head to toe.

You weren’t even sure of the minutes at this point. His sucking and licking and slurping was all you could focus on - and it felt wondrous. It was like your wildest dream had really come true. It was hard to catch your breath. You feel each of his fingers digging into your legs where he held onto you.

His tongue was wide and greedy, not leaving a single spot untouched. He paid a lot of attention to your clit, but eventually began sticking his tongue inside of you. Your eyes were in the back of your head as you groaned and mumbled his name, but you couldn’t hear anything. Your brain was foggy again, this time it was more intense. As the chemicals flooded your brain, your body became weightless. The bed felt like a cloud and stars filled your eyes.

You had never felt this good before. Harry kept on, glancing up every couple seconds to make sure you were enjoying it. The bliss had taken over. He hummed as you blindly searched for his head, then your fingers twisted in his hair. The vibration sends a shock wave through your body. He didn’t want to stop until you had an orgasm, and he was very successful at giving you one.

“Harry, oh!” You squealed as your head thrashed on the pillow and your thighs shook around his head.

The moment your release filled his mouth, he moaned and started to slurp up the mess he made. You could barely feel him anymore, your nerves were shot. He looked up and saw how worn out you appeared, and it made him smirk. His mission was completed - well, somewhat.

He crawled up to be above you, his hungry eyes staring into yours. You wanted to suck his tongue down your throat, but you were so exhausted. You gently grabbed his face with either hand and pulled him down. He wasn’t sure what to expect, but his heart skipped a beat as you placed a few soft pecks on the corner of his mouth.

“Feel okay?” He asked softly while your lips played along his chin.

“Mhm.. amazing.”

He chuckled and carefully nudged your head with his, exposing your neck. He dipped down to press a kiss over your skin. You grunted, wanting to have him closer. You moved your hands to his waist and tried to drag him down. He melted at your touch and let you have control.

“Thank you.” You whispered next to his ear, squeezing your eyes shut as you tried to comprehend how any of this was real.

“You’re welcome, peach.”

You moved your hand to his back and gently pressed your nails into his warm skin. “Please.”

He furrowed his brows at your quiet request. “Please, what?”

A huff flew from your lips and it made him smile. You were always a bit stubborn so he wasn’t surprised that you weren’t being straightforward with him. He leaned up, his eyes immediately finding yours. You didn’t have a lot of courage left, but you were trying so hard not to break eye contact. You wanted him more than anything, but you wished he could read your mind.

“Have to tell me what you want, darling.. so that I don’t do something you don’t want.” He explained after a few moments of silence.

You nodded, then closed your eyes. There was not any fear or anxiety, though. You just needed a moment to collect your thoughts and take a short break from all this. Everything you do with Harry is so intense and crazy, even if it’s not intimate. The last thing you wanted was to get suddenly overwhelmed and back out of it.

When your eyes opened, he noticed how soft they were. He licked his lips and lowered his brows, staring at you like he was trying to solve every little problem.

“What’s the matter?” He asked in a low voice.

You shook your head and gave him a smile. “Nothing.”

“Do you.. want to keep going?”

He gulped as he watched you suck in a deep breath. He wanted this as much as you did, perhaps even more. But he knew that this could easily disappear and you could change your mind. There would be no protest on his part, he aimed to always respect you. But right now.. he just wanted you to tell him what you wanted.

“Yes, please.”

Harry slid his hand down to your thigh and he carefully pushed it down so he could settle between your legs. You took in consistent steady breaths in order to stay calm. The weight of his body was comforting, the feeling of his lips pecking across your skin was causing goosebumps to appear. You were easily getting lost in that trance again, the pleasure was taking over your body.

“Tell me if it’s too much, okay?” Harry’s voice grabbed your attention and you snapped your eyes open.

He moved to his knees and grabbed his cock. You held your breath as his fingers slipped into you so easily. He moved them around, trying his best to prepare you for what was to come. You were still soaked, so he wasn’t worried about that. He knew it would probably be a little painful at first, but he hoped this would help. He spit in his hand and stroked himself to spread it. Your heart was racing as you watched.

Harry placed his tip at your entrance and bit down on his lip as he watched his head disappear inside of you. You gasped, your fingers twisting into the sheet as you squeezed your eyes shut.

“Tell me when to move.” He mumbled.

His hand was rubbing the outside of your thigh as he waited patiently for your response. He didn’t want to rush this at all, and you had to absolutely be comfortable in order for him to go on. You took a few deep breaths and finally nodded to him.

“Go ahead.. please.”

He pushed himself further in, watching your face contort as he stretched you out. He was nervous and afraid to move too quickly. You reached out for him and he couldn’t help but smile. He fell forward, his body covering yours as he went further in. Your hands slipped onto his sides, gripping him tight as he lowered himself to his elbow.

“You okay, peach?”

“Mhm.” You hummed softly as his lips moved to yours for just a few seconds.

He carefully pulled himself out and pushed back in. You let out a grunt and it made him slow his pace.

“Baby.” He uttered quietly against your cheek.

“Keep going.”

He did as you requested, even though he was afraid he was hurting you. You didn’t tell him when you last did this, so he wasn’t sure if you were struggling to get comfortable. He tried not to think about it.

“Peach, is it too much?”

Every time he called you that, your heart melted and you felt like the only girl in the world. You reached up and grabbed his jaw, angling his head up so his eyes could see yours.

“Shh.. keep going.. a little faster.”

He smirked, then obliged. You couldn’t hold in your moans as he filled you up, satisfying a feeling you never knew you could have. Your thumb slipped into the corner of his mouth as he let out a groan.

“Fuck.” Your eyes were falling back as he sped up his movements. You never wanted him to stop.

One of his big hands was glued to your waist as he started to pound into you. The other pressed into the mattress for leverage. You were acting shy at first, hardly touching him, but that quickly faded away. Before you realized how intense it had become, you were scratching across his shoulders and squeezing him hard. Your body was reacting in uncontrollably ways. Every time your walls clenched around his cock, he would groan deep in his throat and buck himself even harder into you. The feelings were overwhelming your body and it was hard to resist the urge to come undone. You wanted to hold out for him, wait a bit longer so he could enjoy it, but you couldn’t hold it in.

“Harry, m’close.” You warned as your mouth fell open and your eyes rolled back again.

“Yeah? So tight for me, baby.. gonna make me cum.”

He was hoping to last longer than this, but fucking you was like heaven. He was melting above you, every grunt and gasp for air was taking it out of him. He was ready to empty himself. And you, well, you were so lost in everything. You were sensitive from his previous services, so every thrust felt like a wave of pure pleasure. You weren’t sure of how long it had been going on, all you could feel was his hands on you and his cock sliding in and out.

“Fuck, fuck.” He grunted suddenly, his hand reaching up to cup your jaw.

You coiled your fingers around his wrist, holding on tight as he fucked himself deep, as far as he could go. Your stomach was rolling, your back arching up. He felt you moving beneath him and he knew you were close.

“Harry.. you’re so good.”

“Cum for me, baby girl.” His voice rumbled out.

You opened your eyes and quickly found his intense stare. “Please, please, can I cum, Harry?”

“Yeah, peach, all for me.” He grunted back, just as your pussy squeezed him tight again.

“I’m.. I’m about to.. to cum.” Your brows fell and you let out a beautiful moan, which only made him go faster and harder.

“Cum, baby.. cum all over me.”

Within a few seconds, your toes were curling and your thighs shook against his body. He was very close behind you. You held on as long as you possibly could and now it was finally rushing through you. Watching you cum from his cock was enough to make him erupt. He pulled himself out and emptied his cock on your stomach. You gasped and lifted your head to watch the last few ropes of cum spurt out. The feeling was interesting, and it was very warm on your skin. You gulped softly, hardly believing this was real. Harry grabbed his cock and wiped the end clean. You felt a wave of curiosity rush through you.

“I wanna taste.” You whispered while grabbing his wrist and guiding his hand up to your mouth. You moved so fast that he couldn’t stop you, even though he wouldn’t have anyways..

He grunted as you swiped your tongue over his skin, licking him clean of the drops he collected. All he could think about was the taste of your pussy and how tight it was, and how you closed your pretty lips around his cock and sucked him hard.. Everything that had happened tonight was flooding his mind, replaying in his thoughts and he knew that if he didn’t stop thinking about it, he would bust again.

You grabbed his attention by touching your fingers against his face. “Thank you.”

He laughed a little and shook his head. “No, thank you.”

“Was.. was it.. good?”

“You were incredible, darling.. so tight and wet.. I didn’t stand a chance.” He grinned.

As he relaxed his body onto yours, he felt his cum smearing on his stomach. It didn’t matter right now, he wanted to be close to you.

You looked over his handsome face, beads of sweat trickled down his forehead and his lips were swollen. For a moment, you were so in awe of his features and what he just did to you, that you forgot about everything else. But as his green eyes closed and his lips pressed a sweet to yours, you remembered that he was your best friend.. and you just had sex with him.

[a/n: I looove writing this pairing. expect an update soon, but shorter than this one lol. but I am going to return to consistent updating! Life is insane but hopefully I won’t have any more curveballs thrown at me!]

taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @victoriasigaard @ariiscringe @harlowsgirl @lomllover @haniaaa04 @sideboobrry11 @tenaciousperfectionunknown

want to join the list? go here -> xox

[citruswriter]

imagine raphs partner scenting him now that theyre together

scenting is the thing were cats rub themselves alllll over you to get their scent on you, like just imagine raphs gf aggressively nuzzling him while cuddling

imagine leos partner wearing a collar in his colour now that their dating

just the canine instinct to make it obvious whose pack their apart of, and whats more obvious than wearing his colour around their neck

mikey partner whistling to him and “preening” him (polishing and cleaning his shell)

most birds have a call and response whistle or tune for their mates and mikeys partner would definitely do that. polishing his shell and repainting the kanji on his shell

donnies partner absent mindedly having their antenna seek him out

moths use their antenna to smell, so naturally donnies partner’s antenna would lean in his general direction

Animal Love

Listen in with me! ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮▯▯▯

A/N: Love how I said I was finishing the series and ya'll pull up like "but how about no?". 😭😂

Previous Part

Leonardo x Reader 🧡

Warnings: Reader is a wolf neko, Reader has golden eyes.

It started as a joke. Vern had gotten you a dog collar in a pretty blue. It was cute and you gave a good laugh, until you saw the heart medallion, your name engraved on the front and the words if lost, please return to Leonardo Hamato on the back. Both you and Leo had been shocked but laughed none the less. Until he noticed you wearing it. You brushed it off, saying it was cute so why let it rot in your dresser? But you kept wearing it more and more. So finally Leo questioned you.

"Well um... it kinda ties into the whole canine thing?" You said, fiddling with the heart on your collar. "You know, make it obvious who's pack I belong to. Usually this would be done with things like scent. But not everybody would be able to just smell you on me. So the collar is a bit more obvious. Kinda itches my canine urges the right way". Leo just tilted his head, staring at the ceiling for a few moments in thought before nodding slowly. "O-kay. Yeah that make's sense. You essentially want people to know who you belong to." He pondered and you perked up, tail wagging. "Yeah! That's right! But also, if it makes you uncomfortable. I-I can take it off." You sputtered, eager to please him. Leo looked down at you, blue meeting gold and he just laughed. "No lotus, it's ok. I was just curious. That's all". He said before pressing a kiss to your lips.

You hummed against him, happily wagging your tail before pulling back. "Anyways," he said before sweeping your feet out from underneath you. You wheezed out a cough as your back smashed against the dojo floor. "Lesson two. Never get distracted".

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Raphael x Reader 🧡

Warnings: Reader is a cat neko, angy kitty.

He had been gone for three days. Three days! And when he came back, the scent you worked so hard to leave on him was gone. How rude. So as soon as Raph sat down you lept into action. You huffed angrily as you crawled into his lap, aggressively rubbing your head and tail against him. Every time he moved too much, a growl would erupt from your throat and you'd just bonk him more aggressively.

"Work so hard. And then you just leave. Now I gotta do it all over again. Stupid fucking- It's all gone." You kept muttering as you worked. Raph just laid there utterly confused as you did whatever you were doing. Eventually he got on his phone to google whatever you were doing. "Oh your cute, babydoll." He laughed and you glared at him. "You're scenting me?" He asked and you glared. "Yes I am now hold still. Because the scent I worked so hard to leave on you is gone and I need to start all over again!" You seethed, utterly exasperated. Raph just held his hands up in surrender before placing them on your thighs.

"Don't act like you don't do it too." You growled, staring at him before bonking your head against his plastron and aggressively rubbing your scent all over him. Raph felt his cheeks heat up at the call out. He just let you scent him until you were satisfied. He could tell you were done when you pulled back, nose twitching, and you gave a nod with a proud smile. Raph just chuckled and pulled you closer to him, kissing you softly. "My turn". And before you could protest, he was all over you, returning the favor while you squirmed and giggled.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Donatello x Reader 🧡

Warnings: Reader is a moth mutant, eepy babies.

It had been another late night. Casey had asked Donnie to work on a new project for the NYPD and Donnie had been tinkering away for literally hours. You tried your best to stay up with him but the day had been long and before you knew it, you had fallen asleep. Your arms supported your head as you snoozed on his lab table. Donnie would occasionally look over at you to check in on you, sometimes stroking your hair or kissing your forehead. But hours later and he had yet to touch you again. He got so wrapped up that he stopped checking in on you, tunnel visioned on his project.

He looked over at you when he heard you whine. He moved his goggles up and noticed that you were still asleep but your antenna kept moving. He watched curiously as they twitched and wandered. You groaned and moved your body, almost as if you were about to wake up. Slowly, he brought his hand closer, allowing your antenna to find his hand and brush their fibers against his scales. Your wings fluttered softly and you instantly stilled. You had been searching for him. Even in your sleep, you were reaching out to him. He allowed the antenna to poke him and brush around his hand as he got out the notebook dedicated to his study of you and scribbled down some notes.

"Donnie?" Your groggy voice came and your lovely boyfriend looked over at you, eyes cracked open and arms stretching. You were barely awake and it was absolutely precious. "Yes little one?" He questioned, grabbing your hand and brushing your knuckles over with his thumb. "Mm. Bedtime?" Was all you came back with. Donnie glanced at his work before sighing. You heard him shift before you felt your body being picked up, melodic clicks erupting from your throat, causing the purple terrapin to chirp back in response. You smiled softly and nuzzled into him, whining softly as he set you down in bed but settling after he joined you not too long after. "Hush you". He whispered, pulling you close to him. You giggled, antenna and hands already seeking him out. You hummed as he placed a gentle kiss to your lips, you sleepily kissing him back. As the sun began to rise on New York City, you and your nocturnal boyfriend found peace in each other's embrace.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Mikey x Reader 🧡

Warnings: Reader has large feathered white wings, Reader has long elf-like ears, sickeningly sweet sappy love (I love this man).

Mikey perked up as he heard a whistling noise echo brought the lair. "Hey angelcakes!" He called out before he had even seen you. A chorus of happy chirps was then heard before you bounded into view. "Hello, my love." You said, your voice a slight sing song. "Dude how did you know that was (Y/N)". Raph asked and Mikey rolled his eyes. "Come on brother, do you know nothing about birds?" He asked, already knowing the answer. He felt your arms wrap around his neck from behind as you leaned over the couch. Leaning back into your touch, you churred and nuzzled into him, ears twitching.

It wasn't long before you started to pick at the dirt on his shell and rubbing at it with your palm. He sighed. When the two of you got together, you became more comfortable touching him in general. But he soon noticed that you would start to pick at his shell and fuss over him in that avian way of yours if it ever got too dirty. This was your equivalent of you preening him and he enjoyed it, just not in the middle of trying to bet his brother's ass at COD. "Hey baby," he spoke up, making you pause and look up, "Let me finish this game ok? After that we can go to my room and I'll be all yours." You immediately perked up, wings fluffing in excitement before you skipped your way to his room to get everything set up.

A few minutes later, he finally joined you and he could tell you were holding back any further bird noises. He laughed and sat down. "Go at it, starburst". He encouraged and you immediately sprang into action. You began to gently scrub at his shell, chipping away the old paint on his shell before. Before long he heard you singing. Avian noises and humming left your throat softly in a pattern that would only come forward when you were with him in private. You took a gentle soap to clean at his shell before wiping it off with a warm wash cloth. He relaxed into your touch, churring softly and creating a sort of duet with you.

Grabbing the paint you looked at the symbol he always had on that shell of is in your phone. You practiced it so many times but you still had it just in case. Carefully you repainted the symbol onto his shell. When you finished, you and him softly spoke to each other. Gossiping about the latest drama and softly whispering tender love to each other.

Once the paint had dried, you grabbed the concoction you called his shell polish you spread it, the cold liquid making Mikey shiver. You spread it, taking your time and being thorough. You leaned up and kissed his shoulder before sinking back on to your knees. "Doing ok?" You murmured softly and Mikey nodded. "Perfect, angel," he cooed back. He always enjoyed moments like this. As much as he loved being the energetic jokester that never calmed down and couldn't take life seriously even if it strangled him, the calm and tender moments the two of you shared meant the world to him. "Gonna start waxing." You said softly before getting back to work. More time passed by before your whole process of "preening" him was finished.

"All done". You finally chirped and Mikey sighed softly. You laid down on his bed, opening up your arms to him with a soft pout. Mikey just crawled into your arms and laid on your chest. "So how long you gonna stay this calm?" You asked with a laugh and Mikey pinched your side, causing you to squeal and giggle. "Maybe fifteen minutes max. Got a lot of energy today". He mused, nuzzling into you. "Love you so much, Mikey". You said with an endearing smile and Mikey smiled back up at you. "I love you too, angel." He said, pressing a kiss to your lips. But he pinched your side again and you pulled back to glare at him. "I lied. I'm energetic again right now."

This is so tooth rottingly sweet and cringy. I love it. Please rot ur teeth with me. Donatello and Mikey my beloveds.

[angel-w0nderland]

~ 𝖲𝗍𝖾𝗉𝖻𝗋𝗈!𝖲𝖺𝗆 𝖬𝗈𝗇𝗋𝗈𝖾 𝖷 𝖱𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 ~

~ 𝖲𝗆𝗎𝗍 ~

~ Authors Notes - this is my first time writing something but i did have help so please let me know what you like or don't like :) i also don't own any of the gifs used ~

✦ ▬▰▬ ▬▰▬ ★✦★ ▬▰▬ ▬▰▬ ✦

Sam Monroe, the boy who was your stepbrother for the past four years, shuffled into your bedroom, his eyes darting around the familiar space like a caged animal. He took a seat on the edge of your bed, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his worn jeans, and let out a sigh. You knew why he was here. Your parents were gone for the weekend, leaving the two of you to fend for yourselves. It wasn't the first time they'd left you alone together, but something felt different today. Maybe it was the way he kept glancing in your direction, or the nervous energy that seemed to radiate from him. Or maybe it was the way your heart fluttered just a little bit faster whenever he was near.

"So…what do you wanna do?" he finally asked, his voice barely above a whisper. You knew he was trying to act nonchalant, but you could see the uncertainty in his eyes. You took a deep breath, trying to muster up the courage to say what was on your mind. "Sam?" you began, your voice barely above a whisper. "Can I…talk to you about something?" He looked up at you, his blue eyes meeting yours, and something in the way he was looking at you made your heart skip a beat.

You took another deep breath and blurted out, "I've…I've grown pretty used to having you around. And I…I just wanted to say that…well, I don't want you to think I'm being weird or anything, but…I kind of…like being with you." You felt your cheeks flush as the words left your mouth, but you couldn't take them back now.

Sam's expression slowly changed as you spoke, first surprise, then confusion, then something that looked like…relief. "You…you like being with me?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "Even when we're just hanging out like this?"

Heat flooded your cheeks as you nodded, unable to meet his gaze. "Yeah…I do. I mean, you're always so…funny and smart. And you're really sweet, too. I just…I never realized how much I enjoyed being around you until now." The words tumbled out of you, unbidden and unfiltered. You felt your heart racing, but you couldn't stop now. You took a deep breath and looked up at him, hoping he understood what you were trying to say.

Sam leaned forward, his expression softening, and cupped your face in his hands. "Really?" he whispered. "You mean that?" You could feel the warmth of his skin against yours, and it sent a shiver down your spine. "Because I feel the same way, you know. I mean, I thought you just…put up with me or something." He paused, searching your eyes for any sign of doubt. "But I'm glad I'm not just some annoying stepbrother to you."

His thumbs traced circles on your cheeks, and you couldn't help but close your eyes, savoring the feeling of his touch. "Sam…" you whispered, your voice trembling. You wanted nothing more than to feel his lips on yours, to taste him and know that he felt the same way you did. But you were afraid to take that step, afraid that it might ruin everything.

He leaned in closer, his lips mere inches from yours, and you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. "What is it, he whispered, his voice thick with desire. "Do you want me to…?" Before he could finish his sentence, you felt his lips brush against yours, gentle at first, then more insistent as he deepened the kiss. Your heart raced and your blood sang in your ears, and for a moment, there was nothing else in the world but the two of you and the way your bodies fit together so perfectly.

Sam's hands slid down your back, cupping your bottom, and pulled you closer against him. You moaned into the kiss, feeling the heat between your legs grow as his hips grind against you. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him even closer, as if you could somehow crawl inside him.

✦ ▬▰▬ ▬▰▬ ★✦★ ▬▰▬ ▬▰▬ ✦

The world around you faded away as you lost yourself in the moment, the only thing that mattered was the taste of his lips and the feel of his skin against yours. It felt like an eternity since your lips had been touched this way, and you didn't want it to end. But as you felt Sam's breath hitch in his throat, you knew he needed air just as much as you did.

He broke the kiss, his chest heaving as he stared down at you with dazed eyes. "God, I've wanted to do that for so long," he murmured, his voice hoarse. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the desire battling with the uncertainty. You reached up and traced his bottom lip with your finger, feeling the softness of his skin beneath your touch.

"It's okay," you whispered, your voice shaking. "I want this, too." You leaned in again, pressing your lips against his in a tender, exploratory kiss. He responded eagerly, his hands moving up to cradle your head as he deepened the kiss. Your tongues danced together, a tentative duet that quickly grew more confident and passionate.

As you kissed, you became aware of the weight of his body against yours, the heat between your legs, and the way your hearts seemed to beat as one. You felt as if you could lose yourself in this moment, surrender to the overwhelming desire that pulsed between you.

With a gasp, Sam broke the kiss, his chest heaving as he stared down at you with a mixture of awe and lust. "I've wanted to do that for so long," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. He trailed his fingers down your cheek, along your jaw, and back up to cup your face in his hands.

You felt dizzy with the intensity of the moment, your heart racing and your body on fire. You reached up, entwining your fingers in his hair, and pulled him down for another kiss, deeper and more passionate than the last. His lips were soft and yielding against yours, and as you kissed, you could feel the hardness of him pressed against your thigh.

Sam moaned into the kiss, his hips moving rhythmically against yours, and you arched your back, pressing your breasts against his chest. Heat pooled low in your abdomen, and you squirmed against him, wanting more. His hands slid down your back, cupping your bottom, and lifted you up, bringing your legs around his hips. You wrapped your arms around his neck, feeling the roughness of his skin against your fingertips.

He kissed you deeply, his tongue dancing with yours, and you could feel the hardness of his erection pressing against your core. The sensation sent a shiver of desire down your spine, and you ground your hips against him, needing the contact. His fingers dug into your skin, holding you close, as if he was afraid you might disappear.

As you kissed, you could feel your body growing more and more alive, every nerve ending tingling with anticipation. The air between you seemed to crackle with energy, and you could feel the weight of his desire pressing down on you. You arched your back, offering yourself up to him, and he took it, his lips moving lower, kissing a trail down your neck and collarbone.

His hands roamed over your skin, possessive and hungry, as if he couldn't quite believe you were real. You moaned into the kiss, feeling the heat building inside you, and you ground your hips against him in time with his movements. You could feel the dampness between your legs, and the ache deep in your core, and it was all you could do not to cry out.

As his lips traveled lower still, kissing and nipping at your breast, you arched your back, offering him deeper access. He groaned into your skin, his body trembling against yours as he took your nipple into his mouth, sucking gently before flicking it with his tongue. You cried out, the pleasure too intense to bear, and your hips bucked against him.

He pulled back, his eyes meeting yours, and you saw the raw desire there, the need for connection. "God, I want you," he breathed, his voice rough with emotion. "I want this so much."

You reached down, unbuttoning his pants, revealing his hardness to the air. You wrapped your hand around him, feeling the heat and the weight of him in your palm. He arched his back, moaning deeply, and you could see the tension in his shoulders as he fought to remain in control. His hips moved of their own accord, grinding against your hand. "Please," he whispered, his voice ragged. "I need you."

You moved closer, guiding his hardness to your entrance. He gasped as you took him inside you, feeling the tightness of your body surrounding him. He let out a shuddering breath, his hips moving instinctively, thrusting deeper. You moaned, arching your back to meet his movements, the sensation of being filled by him almost too much to bear.

His hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as he began to move, his rhythm growing faster and more urgent. You could feel the tension building inside you, the need for release growing more and more intense. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, wanting to feel him deeper.

The sounds of their bodies colliding filled the room, a symphony of pleasure and desire. He kissed you, his lips soft and demanding against yours, as he thrust harder, faster. You could feel the heat between you, the sweat that dripped from your skin, and you knew there was no turning back now. This was happening, and it was real.

His movements grew more frenzied, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he neared the brink. You could feel the tension building inside him, the impending release that was going to shake him to his core. You wanted to be there with him, to feel it too, to share this moment of connection.

You arched your back, meeting his thrusts with a moan, your fingers digging into his shoulders. The sensation of being so close, of feeling him inside you, was overwhelming. You could feel the heat between your legs, the tightness building inside you, and you knew that release was close, so close.

His pace quickened, his body moving with a desperate urgency. His skin was flushed, his breath ragged as he neared the brink. You could feel the tension in his arms, the power that he was holding back, and you wanted nothing more than to help him let go. You wrapped your legs tighter around his waist, arching your back further, begging for more.

His thrusts became deeper, harder, as if he was trying to reach something just out of reach. His hips slapped against yours, his body moving in perfect rhythm with yours. You moaned his name, feeling the building pressure inside you, the impending release that was going to consume you both.

He let out a guttural cry, his body tensing as he came, his release spilling into you. You could feel the heat of him, the wetness as he emptied himself, and it was the most intense sensation you'd ever felt. Your body tightened around him, your own orgasm washing over you in a wave of pleasure so intense it was almost painful.

You clung to him, your fingernails digging into his shoulders as you rode out the wave of sensation. His breath came in ragged gasps, his body still moving within yours, their movements now slow and tender. The room spun around you, the world reduced to the feel of his skin against yours, the taste of his lips on yours.

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before trailing it down your cheek, across your jaw and to your neck. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, and it sent shivers through your body. "I want to stay like this forever," he murmured, his voice still ragged from exertion. "Just… with you."

You wrapped your arms around him, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours, the strength of his muscles beneath his clothes. You could feel the weight of his chest against yours, and it was a comforting, reassuring sensation. You let out a contented sigh, closing your eyes as you savored the moment.

They continue to lie entwined, the weight of their post-coital contentment pressing down on them. As they drift in and out of sleep, they share dreamlike fragments of memories from their past, discovering new aspects of each other and forging a deeper emotional connection

Their breath mingles, the rise and fall of their chests in perfect harmony.

The room grows brighter as the sun peeks through the curtains, casting a warm golden light across their entwined forms. You could swear that the air in the room feels different, somehow lighter and more alive. It's as if their bodies are inextricably linked, each breath and heartbeat synchronized, as if they share a single existence.

✦ ▬▰▬ ▬▰▬ ★✦★ ▬▰▬ ▬▰▬ ✦