#But I'm half asleep so this may not make much sense

[billowingangel]

Hetalia Characters as wholesome memes I have saved

Probably not that accurate but more I wanted to share wholesome memes and hetalia characters ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

source: cafekitsune

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 6: One Step Closer

Summary: You're all trying to adjust to the changes happening between you and the members of your pack.

Pairings: Poly 141 x reader, some Price x Gaz

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, suggestive content, handjobs, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, language

A/N: I'm not entirely happy with this one and might come back when I feel better and do some changes, but for now, it's fine. Mostly just a filler chapter more than anything. Some sweet moments, some maybe steamy...Building up for some more exciting things coming in the next parts. Also I just wanted to clear something up, pretty much everyone in this universe is at least a little bisexual. That will make sense once you read the chapter.

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(Gif found on Google)

He curses the click of the door as it opens, making sure to go slowly so it doesn’t squeak as it’s prone to when it rains. His lips turn up in a smile as he catches a glimpse at the sight on the couch, no more than half a moment before Price’s honed senses cause him to wake at the change in atmosphere. 

He blinks tired eyes at Gaz, head lifting from where it had drooped to his chest in his sleep. He adjusts his hold on you, still asleep and unaware in the safety of your alpha’s arms. 

“Sleeping in your office again, sir?” Gaz says quietly, stepping closer to the couch. 

Price grunts quietly, shifting his hold on you so he can lift a hand to rub at his eyes. His voice is thick and gravelly with sleep as he answers. “Didn’t mean to.” 

Gaz hums, running a hand through Price’s hair as the air between them changes from Captain and Sergeant to alpha and beta. “Should get you both to bed.” 

“You take her.” Price murmurs. “She’ll forgive you easier for invading her space.” 

Gaz knows he’s right. He’d already been invited in once. His scent in your space would be less jarring than Price’s. Price carefully unravels your arms from around his neck, letting Gaz slip his arms under you to lift you off his lap. You stir slightly at the movement, letting out a quiet grumble. 

“Shh pretty girl.” Gaz shushes you, letting your head rest against his shoulder. “Just taking you to bed.” 

Price follows behind him as he carries you through the halls to your room. You’re asleep by the time he reaches your door, Price opening it for him. Gaz slips in, carrying you to your bed. He makes sure you’re comfortable, tucking the blanket around you before leaning down to kiss your forehead. 

He spares one last glance at you fast asleep before he closes the door, turning to Price. “Your turn.” 

“You gonna carry me too?” Price asks, a playful glint shining in his eyes despite the obvious exhaustion. 

Gaz huffs out a laugh. “You wish.” He puts a hand on his back, guiding Price down to his door, closest to the entry to the barracks. 

He follows the alpha into his space, meticulously clean and tidy as usual. They both blink against the harsh overhead light, Gaz leaning against the door as Price begins emptying his pockets, getting settled in his space. 

“She knelt for me tonight.” Price says as he sits at his desk to unlace his boots. 

“She’s making headway.” Gaz replies, surprised that you asked to kneel so soon. He knows how meaningful kneeling is to both alpha and omega, how intense it can be, how much trust there is involved. 

Price hums, standing to remove his pants. “I fear Laswell was right. She’s turning out to be a good fit.” 

“She’s already got Simon worked up.” Gaz smiles, moving to the dresser to fish out clean sleep clothes. “I fear she may be taking a page out of Johnny’s book.” 

“Well, if it gets him to stop torturing himself, then I can’t say I’ll complain.” Price says, pulling his shirt over his head. “You know how he is.” 

“I know.” Gaz says, holding out the clean shirt and sweatpants. “Can’t say I blame him entirely. Not after what he’s been through.” 

Price slips on the clean clothes, stepping closer to Gaz. “He’ll warm up to our girl eventually.” 

“‘Our girl?��” Gaz’s eyebrows lift as Price steps in even closer, their noses brushing. “That’s quite the jump.” 

“She’s been our girl from the start. As soon as those papers were finalized, there was no sending her back.” Price says, pressing a kiss to the corner of Gaz’s lips. “I wouldn’t put her through that. Not after everything.” 

Gaz pulls back, Staring at Price’s face. “You know something.” 

“I wouldn’t say I know anything, but I have my suspicions.” He moves past Gaz, turning off the overhead light. “I know we all do.” 

“You think she’ll tell us?” 

“I think she will, with time. I don’t want to push her into too much too soon.” He pats Gaz on the ass. “Come on, in bed.” 

“Sir, yes sir.” Gaz smirks, Price giving him a look as the beta pulls down the covers, crawling into the bed. 

Price groans internally, trying to calm the twitch in his pants at the mental picture of you, those big puppy eyes shining playfully as you saluted him. The small spark of excitement every time you call him “sir.” How easily you relaxed for him while you knelt, giving over complete trust and control to him for an hour. 

He crawls under the covers, tossing an arm over Gaz, trying to block out all the mental images flashing through his head. 

“Forget something in your pocket, sir?” Gaz says, the smirk evident in his voice.

“Shut it, Garrick.” 

You’re jarred awake by the sound of movement in the hallway. You let out a quiet noise of indignation, letting your eyes close again. It’s too early, around the time the boys leave to go workout. You’ve been graciously given a couple days off to rest and recover, likely Price’s recommendation. You knew if it were up to Ghost, he’d force you to work through the pain. You’re glad for the break, though, and you would be even if you weren’t horribly sore. 

Your head is still spinning a bit from last night. You’re not quite sure how you made it to bed, but the faint scent of clean linen and the sea gives you an idea. You bury your face in your pillow, letting out a groan. You knelt for Price last night. You opened yourself up to that vulnerability, and he had graciously guided and supported you through it. He didn’t scruff you, even though he could have, nor was there any demand for control in his grasp, he could have easily taken it. 

He’d been a good alpha, helping you relax and destress. You feel lighter for the first time in weeks, since you found out where you were going and who your new pack was going to be. You feel lighter than you have in your entire time on this base, though that could just be the endorphins still flowing a bit from kneeling for your alpha. 

It’ll be easier to come down from it once you’re bonded, you know that. Once there’s that connection between you, and you’re around him all the time. You’ll be moving into his room, or at least you’ll spend most of your time in there. You’ll sleep in his bed with him. You wonder if he’s a cuddler, or if he prefers personal space. Would Gaz join you sometimes? You can practically feel the warmth of being sandwiched between them, battle hardened hands trailing along your bare body because you’ll be naked and well bonded with both of them. 

You bury your burning face in your pillow letting out a muffled, quiet scream at the thoughts your mind is conjuring. You feel hot, warmth pooling in your stomach. There’s no going back to sleep now, you know that. 

You get up, rushing to the bathroom to splash cold water on your face and erase the thoughts in your head. It’s entirely natural, having these thoughts. You will get to that place, very soon, with Price. The others could pursue that sort of relationship with you as well, if they wanted to. It will likely happen naturally with Gaz, given his bond with Price, and after your kiss with Soap...

You’re not sure if it would happen with Ghost, or if he would allow it. You can’t help but think about yesterday, how easily he had overpowered you with just his scent. You had been scared, as it was your nature to be when an alpha was posing a direct threat to you, but the way he had looked hovering over you, the feeling of him pressed against you when he’d pinned you to the floor. How easily he got you into that position. A shiver runs down your spine at the thought of him pinning you down like that, or better, pinning you against Soap, his hand on the back of your neck. 

You splash cold water on your face, holding your breath until your lower body stops pulsing in time with your heart. You let out a quiet curse, focusing on getting ready for the day before grabbing your book and heading for the rec room to try and calm yourself. 

“You’re up early, love.” 

You jump at the voice, lowering your book as you look up from your spot stretched out on the couch. Gaz is standing there, skin dewy with sweat. They must have just returned from their morning workout, heading in to shower and get ready for the day. Gaz must have noticed your scent and followed it. 

“Couldn’t get back to sleep.” You explain as he moves closer to the couch. “Gaz!” You shriek as he crawls over you, dropping his body on top of yours. “You’re all sweaty!” 

“You can shower later.” He says, resting his face against your chest, his elbows pressed into the cushions so he’s not completely squishing you with his weight. 

“You should be showering now.” You say, trying not to breathe in too much of his scent. It’s heavily tainted with the scent of sweat and musk. 

“Then we can shower together.” He murmurs, nuzzling his face further into your chest. 

Your face warms, your heart rate picking up at his teasing. The thought of being enclosed in the shower with him, such a small space, packed in together. Skin to skin, bare before each other. You might implode beneath him, warmth beginning to travel down your spine after your thoughts earlier. 

“Relax.” He murmurs with a grin, obviously picking up the quickening of your heart rate and the change in your scent. “I’m teasing.” 

He’s just as bad as Soap, but not quite as blatant with it. While Soap would tease at any open opportunity, Gaz tended to choose his moments wisely, slipping some teasing remark in when you least expected it. 

Gaz goes quiet as he lays there, his breathing steady. You mark your page before reaching up to set the book on the arm of the couch. You can’t help yourself as you run your fingers through his short cropped, damp curls, gently scratching at his scalp. He makes a quiet noise, his body getting heavier. 

“Gaz?” You murmur, earning a grunt in response. “Are you falling asleep?” 

“Can’t help it.” He murmurs. “So comfy.” 

Your cheeks warm as he nuzzles into your chest, letting out a content sigh. You fight the urge to release one of your own, feeling warm and content even pressed against the lumpy cushions of the couch. How easy it is to find comfort even in the most uncomfortable places. 

It doesn’t have to be uncomfortable. 

Your heart rate kicks up again, hand stilling where it had been scratching Gaz’s scalp. You’re allowed to want. You asked yesterday and nothing bad happened. 

“Gaz?” You murmur, trying to fight the nervous twisting of your stomach. “Would you...if I wanted something, would you get it for me, even if it’s stupid?” 

Gaz shifts on top of you, knees pressing into the couch as he pushes himself higher so you’re face to face. One of his legs is between yours, holding him up so he doesn’t squish you under his weight. 

He stares down at you, blinking the haze of sleep from his dark eyes. “Babygirl, I’d take over the world for you if that’s what you wanted.” 

Your lips part in surprise at his answer. You’re not entirely sure he’s allowed to say something like that, even as a joke. The sentiment of it is not lost on you, and you find tears prickling the backs of your eyes. 

His arms shift beneath you, thumbs brushing your cheeks. “Tell me what you want.” 

You stare up into those big, sweet, dark eyes. Gaz radiates a kindness and calmness like you haven’t felt in a long time. Not that the others aren’t kind, even in Ghost and his aggressiveness, you’ve felt the protective drive within him. It wasn’t based on any claim or sense of ownership, even a sense of duty couldn’t bring forward that kind of reaction. But Gaz...there’s just something so soft and gentle despite the danger he could pose. 

“Kiss me.” You blurt out, realizing you’ve been staring for far too long. 

Gaz stares down at you, a grin slowly spreading on his lips. “Just that? Here I thought you were gonna say something impossible like world domination.” 

“Well, if you’re offering...” You shrug. 

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Probably shouldn’t be making those jokes.” He leans down closer. “Though, if you asked nicely...” 

You let out a quiet sound as his lips press against yours. They’re just as soft as they look, pressing against yours so gently and softly. Your arms lift to his shoulders, curling into the fabric of his shirt. He coaxes your lips to move with his, copying his movements as he tilts his head slightly. 

Warmth blooms beneath your skin as he kisses you, your head spinning. His scent invades your nose, seeping into your very being. You want to curl up in it, let it surround you like a warm blanket. You catch the whiff of something deeper, the scent of damp earth. Price. You have a sudden urge to pull his shirt collar to the side, to stare at the mark that decorates his scent gland at the base of his throat, a mirror of the one you’ll carry in a few short weeks. 

“Ye didnae tell me ye were startin’ a cuddle pile!” 

An excited voice causes you both to separate, Gaz barely managing to lift himself up enough so that you don’t get squished when Soap practically jumps on his back. 

“Bloody hell, mate,” Gaz grunts. “Tryna squish our poor omega?” 

The weight above you shifts before Soap’s head appears over Gaz’s shoulder, a wide grin on his face. “Mornin’ hen!” 

“For someone so small, you weigh a ton.” Gaz says with a strain to his voice as sweat breaks out across his forehead from keeping his weight and Soap's off of you.

“I'm no that small.” Soap says, an offended tone to his voice as he goes limp on top of Gaz. 

You can't help but giggle at their antics, especially as Gaz pushes himself up to a kneeling position, nearly sending Soap rolling to the floor. Your face is warm from your giggling as they both stand, playfully pushing each other. 

“Alright, enough you two.” Price's voice cuts through their playful arguing, amusement shining in his eyes as he leans on the doorframe. “Almost time for breakfast.”

“Come on.” Gaz says, taking your hands and helping you up. “Let's get some pancakes in you before you turn into one.”

“You should try courting her.” Kyle says, scrolling through his phone as he lounges on John's bed. “Like old-fashioned courting.”

“What are you on about?” John grumbles, drying his face with a towel. 

“Our little omega. You should try courting her.” Kyle repeats, looking over his phone at John. 

John tosses his towel into his hamper before approaching the bed. Kyle lets his eyes rake over his form, his strong arms and soft stomach, thick, strong thighs and the prominent bulge at the front of his briefs. 

“It would be worth a try.” Kyle continues, letting John pull the phone from his hands. “Omegas love that shit.” 

“And what prompted this thought?” John asks, laying down on his side next to Kyle, pulling the younger man closer. 

“She's getting all worked up by us now.” He says, biting back a groan as John trails a hand over his side. “She's kissed Soap and I so far. Got all worked up when I teased her about showering together this morning.” His hand trails through John's short hair as John licks at his throat. “I think she'd enjoy a little attention from her alpha.”

“What do you have in mind?” John murmurs before sinking his teeth into the soft skin of Kyle's throat. 

Kyle shrugs, letting out a gasp as John bites at his throat. “Take her out for dinner? Buy her some things for her room? Give in to those alpha cravings a bit.”

John lets out a low growl, pinning Kyle on the bed beneath him. Kyle's lips lift in a smirk, fingers lifting to run through John's beard. His thumb drags across John's lower lip, gaze soft as he stares up at the alpha. 

“You won't ruin anything by doing it. There's only so much time until her heat. If I were an alpha, I'd want her to be as comfortable as possible before then. Makes the shift into bonded pack life much easier.” Kyle says. 

John leans down until their noses brush, groaning softly as Kyle digs his fingers into his shoulders. He knows Kyle is right. He should make an effort with you, at least try to ensure you're as comfortable around him as possible before he claims you. Most alphas wouldn't have waited for the first heat, wouldn't have even waited a week before claiming, before taking their omega to bed. He doesn't want to be like those alphas. He doesn't want to force you into more than you already have been, more than you will be. 

He wants things to happen as naturally as possible, but that doesn't mean he can't try. 

Kyle leans up, closing the distance between them and kissing him. He presses his beta back into the mattress, nipping harshly at his lips. Their tongues tangle together, tasting like peppermint toothpaste and something distinctly alpha and beta. 

John presses his body closer to Kyle's groaning as his half hard cock drags against Kyle's. Kyle moans into his mouth as John begins grinding against him. Their bodies move together, a familiar dance they've both memorized the steps to. 

John groans as Kyle's fingers trail down his back, blunt nails biting into the skin. Breathy moans slip from kiss-bruised plump lips as John kisses down Kyle's throat. Calloused fingers slip under the waistband of John's briefs, teasing the soft supple skin beneath. John grinds down against him harder, dragging his leaking cock against Kyle's twitching one. 

“Fuck, Cap.” Kyle groans, bucking up against his alpha. “Lemme feel you.”

John wraps his arms around Kyle, flipping them over so he's on top. Kyle makes quick work of his boxers, tugging John's briefs down roughly. He groans, licking his lips at the sight of his alpha's leaking cock. 

“Like what you see, pup?” John asks, lips lifting in a smirk. 

“Fuck yes.” Kyle breathes, settling himself on John's thighs. 

He leans down, wrapping a hand around both his and John's cocks. John groans as Kyle begins stroking them both, his cock twitching as more precum slips from his tip. He's close, the pent up frustrations from the last couple days along with the tantalizing scent of omega driving him to near insanity. 

He feels like he might pop a knot as Kyle picks up the pace, one hand braced against his chest, his hips rocking in short thrusts. His head falls back as his orgasm slams into him, hit cum spurting across his stomach. Kyle groans loudly, frantically pumping his own cock as he reaches his peak, spurting his spend across his alpha's stomach too. 

“Made quite the mess, Sergeant.” John says, trailing his fingers through the mix of cum on his stomach. 

“Would you like me to clean it up, sir?” Kyle smirks, opening his mouth to allow John's fingers to push in. 

His tongue swirls around his thick fingers, lapping them clean. Kyle shifts on top of him, bending down and trailing his tongue across John's stomach, licking up their mess. 

“Good boy.” John hums, gently cradling the back of Kyle's neck. 

The sky is dark as you make your way from your room. Gaz and Price are nowhere to be found, your cheeks warming at the thought of where they could be and what they could be up to. You take a breath to steady yourself, and your scent, before you head into the rec room. Soap and Ghost are there, Soap on the opposite end of the couch as usual, and Ghost in the chair next to the couch that faces the door. 

He sees you first, his shoulders squaring just a bit. Soap turns to the doorway, a typical grin splitting his face when he sees you. It’s been a while since you’ve seen anyone be happy to see you, and you can’t deny that Soap’s joy is a bit contagious. He’s like an excited puppy. You can imagine if he had a tail, it would be wagging non-stop. 

“Come tae join us, hen?” He asks, holding out a hand. 

Ghost’s eyes are sharp as they stare at you, the silent warning not lost. You’re infringing on their space, infringing on his protective circle around his beta. You’re pushing a boundary and that could be dangerous. 

It could be. 

You move forward, taking Soap’s hand, letting him tug you down next to him on the couch. You ignore the eyes burning into you, boring holes into your skin as you settle in as close to Soap as you can. You almost smile in victory as Soap drapes his arm across the back of the couch, your attention turning to whatever is playing on the TV. 

Ghost and Soap continue their conversation, Soap's fingers brushing your arm every so often. You can feel every time Ghost's burning gaze turns to you, every time he glowers at you for being so close to his beta. You can't help but wonder what's going through his mind, what he's thinking, what he's imagining. 

You'll pay for this later. 

You can only imagine how he'll punish you in your training for boldly breaching such an obvious boundary. 

Soap doesn't seem to notice, or perhaps he simply doesn't care. It's not like you're not allowed to be close to Soap. As a member of your new pack, he had every right to pursue a bond with you if he wanted, regardless of how Ghost felt. Even though they're bonded, Soap is still his own person. 

It's almost ironic. 

You're starting to feel the exhaustion of your early morning as the night drags on, your head getting heavier and heavier. Ghost's need to glower at you has lessened a bit, his eyes only on you whenever you shift or move. Your head has drooped onto Soap's shoulder, an idea forming in your mind. You're sure it's the exhaustion making you so bold, or perhaps your new belief that the only way you'll even stand a chance at getting through to Ghost is to push those boundaries and stand up to him.

You lift your head, shifting your body until you're laying on the couch, resting your head on Soap's thigh. You watch Ghost's hands curl into fists where they rest on his lap, his eyes burning through your head as you make yourself comfortable. Soap's hand sinks into your hair, massaging your scalp as you lay there, your lips curling into a content smile. 

You know it has to be eating at him just a little. A content beta and a preening omega, an image of what he could have if he simply got over whatever is keeping him from accepting you. 

“Tired, lass?” Soap's gentle voice pulls you from your thoughts. Your mind had started to doze a bit, trailing off with your thoughts. 

You make a quiet noise in agreement, nuzzling against his thigh. 

“Let's get ye tae bed.” He says, squeezing your arm. 

You're not expecting Ghost to follow as Soap leads you from the rec room, your fingers entwined with his. Even in your tired state you can feel the icy stare at your back, the looming presence of the alpha behind you as Soap walks you to your door. 

“Night, hen.” Soap murmurs softly. 

You're sure it's the exhaustion making you delirious as you stand on your toes, pressing your lips to his in a soft kiss. Soap hums against your lips, bending down to follow you as you go to pull away. You ignore the tickling at the back of your neck as he presses another kiss to your lips, your hand reaching for your doorknob and the security of your room. 

“Night, Soap.” You murmur, slipping into your room before Ghost makes a rash decision. 

You're going to regret it later, but you certainly don't at this moment. 

The fabric isn’t as soft as it used to be. It’s been worn too much, washed too many times. You’ve stitched the ripped seam back together, a bit sloppy but you can hardly tell thanks to the luck of finding thread the same color as the sweatshirt. You hold it in your hands, staring at the frayed edges, the loose strings. Well loved, some might call it. Garbage, others might think. 

“Finally fixing the holes?” 

The voice cutting through the silence makes you jump, your head whipping around to the door. Price is standing there, leaning against the doorframe. 

“Sorry, sweetheart. Didn’t mean to startle you.” He says. 

“It’s alright, sir.” You say, calming your racing heart. You hadn’t even heard him approach. “I thought you were all at training.” 

“I had a call I had to take.” He says, entering the room now that you’ve calmed. “Was heading back out when I caught a whiff of your scent.” He lowers himself onto the couch with a quiet groan, staring softly at you. 

“I know it’s stupid, holding onto it when I could just ask for a new one.” You say, staring down at the sweatshirt in your hands. 

“But it’s more than just a sweatshirt.” He says, tone soft and understanding. 

You sink your teeth into your lip, fingers curling into the fabric in your hands. “One of the omegas at the institute gave it to me.” You say, holding the sweatshirt to your chest. “We were the same age so we were grouped together a lot and we got really close. She gave it to me when we reached selection age, since we both knew we were likely to get chosen fast and she wanted to give me something to remember her by. It’s a good thing she did too, because she did get chosen almost immediately.” You let out a quiet laugh, blinking back tears. “I’ve held on to it ever since. It doesn't even smell like her anymore. Hasn’t for a long time.” 

Price is quiet for a few moments, his eyes on your face. You can’t look at him, your gaze on the sweatshirt in your lap. “You loved her.” He finally says, his tone not accusing or even disgusted. 

It’s understanding. Knowing.

You take a shaky breath, hands closing into nervous fists around the sweatshirt. “Institutes try everything they can to prevent omegas from bonding with each other. Makes it too hard to separate us once we come of age. Alphas don’t want a distressed, unhappy omega, they’re expecting an eager, willing addition to their pack. It’s hard though, when you spend literal years together experiencing the same thing to not form bonds with each other.”

 Price huffs quietly. “My grandfather used to tell me about the traditional pack boom after World War 2. When militaries across the world began to forbid bonding and pack formation within ranks. They were spending more time and money on preventing it from happening than anything else. It didn’t take them long to realize it was easier to allow the organic bonds to form. It made soldiers stronger, gave them purpose. It’s easier to look away than to fight what nature intends sometimes.” He smiles at you, stretching his arm across the back of the couch. “We are the last people that will judge you for it.”

You know that. You've known that from the start. The way their scents mingle, their bonds. They're a bonded pack for a reason. 

“She never knew. Or, I never told her. I don't know where she ended up or where she is now.” You shrug, letting out a sardonic huff. “It's a lonely existence sometimes, being an omega.”

“I can only imagine.” Price says, giving you a sad smile. 

“I suppose I should just get rid of it.” You say, staring at the sweatshirt. “No use holding onto something that could have never been.” 

Price squeezes your shoulder gently. “Wait here.” 

He gets up, leaving you alone in the rec room. You wait patiently for him to return, growing a bit nervous. What was he doing? Was he telling someone about your confession? Was he going to send you back because of it? You know your worries are unwarranted, but you can't stop them. 

He returns a few moments later, a sweatshirt in his hands. “Here.” He says, holding it out to you. “They're standard issue, but I've never been one for sweatshirts. It's just been sitting in my closet.”

You take the sweatshirt, soft and new in your hands. It hardly smells like him, only the light residual scent from being in his room. “Thank you, sir.” You say, rubbing the fabric against your cheek. 

He nods at your old sweatshirt. “This way you can save that one, and start picking this one apart.” 

Your face warms at his cheeky comment, your head turning down bashfully. “It means a lot, sir. Really.” 

“You'll get better use of it than I did.” He glances at his watch. “I best be getting back to the boys. We'll be back before dinner.”

“Wait-” You get up before he can leave, slowly approaching him with the sweatshirt in hand. Your face is burning as he stares down at you, eyebrows raised in waiting. “Will you...scent it?” You hold the sweatshirt out to him.

He looks surprised for a moment before he takes the fabric, rubbing his face and neck against it. He coats the sweatshirt in his scent, the smell of trees and petrichor filling your nose as you watch him. The back of your neck begins to prickle, the desire to roll in his scent getting stronger. 

“Thank you, sir.” You say as he hands the sweatshirt back to you. “I'd...I'd also like to kneel again tonight, if that's alright.”

He smiles softly down at you. “Of course. I'll come and get you when I'm ready.” He leans down, pressing a kiss to your head before he takes his leave. 

You pull on Price's sweatshirt, burying your nose in his scent for a moment. A smile pulls at your lips as you grab your old sweatshirt, making for your room.

You can't wait for tonight. 

NEXT ->

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[chiikasevennn]

Heyyy I saw you were writing for sung jinwoo and I was wondering if you'd be up to writing one where reader is his girlfriend and they are together somewhere and he is all soft and mushy with her without realizing there are other hunters around bc he is just so focused on her only

⁠✷—C is for Clingy

THIS IS BADLY WRITTENNNNNNNN, eng is not my first language. I hope nobody criticizes me like I write for a living 😭 also, not proofread. Kind of suggestive. I have no idea what I'm doing or writing. I hope I got this correctly!

Slow movements were made as another lazy Sunday morning was being spent in the kitchen, flipping pancakes with your boyfriend hugging your waist from behind.

You felt like drifting on the edge of consciousness, Jinwoo could say the same. Once the pancakes were finished and ready to be savored, you made every effort to plate them with him securely encircling your waist.

Jinwoo grumbled, half-asleep, eyelids heavy as he couldn't resist the mesmerizing aroma emitting from you. Should you permit, he would hold onto you forever.

For some odd reason, his sense of smell became more acute especially in the morning when you were around, or maybe it was simply your sweet, sugary scent that was so appealing and irresistible. He just had to approach you.

So, as the clingy man he openly acknowledged himself to be whenever he was with you, he just trailed closely along behind you, his head buried in your hair and breathing in its faint sweetish scent.

"—inwoo, Jinwoo," you began to tap his head; slowly, he woke up from daydreaming.

He hummed in response, holding you tighter which made you grumble.

"Pancakes are ready. Do you want syrup?"

He nodded his head against your hair. You did your best to remove his hold around you, to which you succeeded barely.

"Woo, we're going to eat." The dark haired man's face etched with lines of discontent at how he had to let go of you.

The sight of pancakes you made on the table brought a little smile to his face though, a tower of golden goodness waiting to be devoured. Each pancake was a work of art, perfectly round and fluffy, begging to be drenched in syrup.

He seized the chair adjacent to your seat and brought it close to you with such intimacy, eager to be near you as he prepared to enjoy his first meal of the day.

The two of you took a bite, it was a silent breakfast.

"Say, Jagiya," he said. "KHA's hosting a party in three days, may I ask you to come with me?"

You stopped eating after swallowing the last piece of pancake in your mouth. "Like, a hunter gathering? Am I needed?"

"For me, yes." He responded like a form of desperation. "I also want to show my girlfriend to the world. Will that be okay?"

Trying to negotiate with him was pointless. How could you possibly refuse when he asked so kindly? You were somewhat bashful around strangers, often preferring to take shelter behind someone taller. Jinwoo conveniently became that reliable barrier after his sudden growth spurt.

"Sure, does it have a theme or something? I don't want to look off."

"You'd look gorgeous in anything."

"I'm serious!"

Jinwoo chuckled. "A dress, maybe? I'll wear a suit. Should we go look for fits later? It's a day off, after all."

I hummed along with him, eating the rest of the pancake happily.

The dark haired man looked at the necklace around your neck. You were still donning that budget-friendly heart necklace, huh? Back then, it was the only thing he could offer as he didn't have much. It had been his initial present to you upon making things official, and ever since then, you hadn't removed it.

Jinwoo smiled. The littlest things do make him happy randomly. Maybe it was the [Name] effect.

By four o'clock, you and him stepped out to shop together. Although your intention was to sleep through the day, how could you possibly debate with your boyfriend who was eager to be with you at a luxurious event?

✯

"Is this really okay?"

As she descended the staircase, the V-line neckline of her dress accentuated the slender curve of her neck. It was commanding Jinwoo's attention and he couldn't look away although he'd already seen you in that dress.

He was determined to hold onto you once more, and he did, though his breath hesitated as he realized how easily he could grab your waist.

Jinwoo buried his face into your styled hair, reddening like a teenager. Oh, Jinwoo, your charming Jinwoo who kept showing this cute side of him just and only for you.

"Woo, this is the seventh time you've grabbed my waist. I might be giving you too much privilege."

"Mm," he was silent, before suggesting something. "You're so grabbable, so small… You know, we still have thirty minutes lef—"

You ended up smacking the back of his head with a wide smile, a tick mark appearing. "Nope, the last time we did that, I couldn't walk properly!"

You bestowed a kiss upon his hair, being cautious not to disrupt the expertly groomed locks that adorned his handsome face. Of course, this man was not only your significant other, but also your partner in each craziness you start, and you, too, were keen to flaunt him proudly like the committed partner you were.

✯

The formal party was a gathering of elite individuals, a sea of tailored suits and elegant dresses filling the large room. Every detail of the formal party was meticulously planned, from the ornate decorations to the impeccable service as it would have distinguished guests.

For those in attendance, the formal party was more than just a social event—it was an opportunity to network, to solidify alliances, and to climb the ladder of success.

The air was thick with anticipation as guests awaited the arrival of the most awaited guest, a figure of utmost importance in the world of hunters.

When you and Jinwoo arrived, it was obvious that every set of eyes was fixed on the both of you, holding you in their gaze, clearly observing your every move.

They didn't know an inkling of fact about you, but they knew you were his secret other, thanks to the rumors and candid photos fans took of the two of you, dubbing you as Hunter Sung Jinwoo and his hidden girlfriend.

Indeed, you were gorgeous, but some of their corrupted minds thrived for more than that. They wanted connection, power, influence—

I got nervous for no reason… You sighed.

You had envisioned the gathering to be calm before the storm, but surprisingly, it was actually like a walk in the park! Initially, you had anticipated being swarmed or judged by random people nearby, but they were actually quite polite.

The discussions you engaged in with people were polite, formal, and brief, to say the least. You also noticed how tense some of them appeared moments after approaching you… Or maybe you were kidding and it was just your imagination? You had initially thought of hiding behind Jinwoo and using him as a shield, but surprisingly, they were composed and respectful.

You were unaware of the fear gripping their souls, as each time you greeted them with a gentle, tiny smile, a certain dark-haired hunter would send them glaring looks from a distance behind you; Jinwoo knew their intentions, and they weren't dumb to not realize that he was pointing right exactly at them.

"Jagiya," He spoke softly by your ear before planting a kiss on the tip of your ear. Wait. "Did you use another perfume when we arrived?"

The sudden weight of pressure hugged your hands, leaving you undeniably certain that he gripped it tightly as if awaiting something eagerly.

"No…? Wait, do I smell—"

He knew what you were going to assume. "No, not bad. Just different. Like candy or something similar."

You kissed his lips. "Good." Jinwoo couldn't resist smiling, a sight that, unbeknownst to both of you, resulted in many spectators widening their eyes at the sight of the two of you.

His concentration was solely on you, those gray eyes looking down at you with so much adoration. He never objected to public displays of affection, perhaps the two of you simply preferred to keep your intimacy private, until now—at least, for Jinwoo.

It made him feel giddy.

"Kiss me again?"

"What? We're in public…"

"So? No harm in doing it again. You already kissed me. Plus, we literally had a quickie weeks ago at a restau—"

"Shut!" You whisper-yelled, a flush of embarrassment spreading across your face up to your ears. Jinwoo chuckled. "That is not necessary!"

….? Did he just… Laugh?

That was the thought of the woman afar, Hunter Cha Hae-In. Plagued by an unsettling and cumbersome sensation, she observed something she didn't think she'd see.

So those pictures of them taken at a beach were true? The blonde hunter tried to swallow down her drink.

The hunters scattered throughout the room, especially those who had witnessed Jinwoo's prowess in battle, look mostly in disbelief as they witnessed something that surpassed their wildest dreams. They had never considered that such a brutal man on the battlefield could be so tender... And it seemed like he had no problem showing it, too!

.

"Wait, what do you mean you kind of drove them away?" You whispered closely to your boyfriend's face, brows furrowing. "So that guy Mr. Kim was actually gonna piss his pants because you continuously looked at him like a mosquito???"

"Your hair smells great." He deliberately changed the subject with a kiss. "Let's go to dinner after this."

"Hey!" You whisper-yelled.

ples comment something D:

[bigfan-fanfic]

A Delving Song (Monster!Reader x Laios Touden)

Could I request a Laios fic where he meets a new monster, your choice, that is surprisingly sentient who joins the party? I just think it would be cute and fluffy.

Laios tilted his head. That didn't sound like the normal song the sirens on this floor of the dungeon would sing.

Marcille and Chilchuck are still asleep. And Senshi's off checking his golem farms.

So Laios wanders off towards the pool of water where you sit.

It's a ways off from typical mermaid territory.

And you yourself seem different from other mermaids. Your lower half is covered in feathers, not scales, and you have small wings protruding from your back.

"To eat is the privilege of the living... all things must eat to survive..."

Laios looks at you, in awe as you continue to sing a song of resilience and endurance. He's absolutely enchanted. And he quickly opens his mouth to sing with you once he memorizes the simple tune.

You startle badly, yelping, and waving your arms, summoning streams of waters like vipers to rise around you.

"Whoa! Please, I didn't mean any harm. I just really liked your song."

You frown. "Tallmen like you don't sing. They attack."

Laios puts down his sword. "See? No attacking."

"You're... different."

Laios grins and nods. "That's right. You see... I wanna know more about creatures like you. Are you a mermaid? You seem to be similar and different."

"I think your kind calls me a siren. But most of us get hunted, because our songs can be dangerous. We have some control over water too."

"That's incredible. Do you come up with your own songs?"

"We sing the tune - others seem to hear what they really want to hear. Unlike mermaids, the charming of it all seems to come from the prey."

"Why are you all alone?" Laios asks bluntly, tilting his head when your face falls.

"My flock were... hunted by a group of tallmen. I escaped. The mermaids don't want me because we bring adventurers that kill."

Laios frowns. "Well, that's no good. Maybe... maybe you could come with our group. I'm sure once they hear you speak and reason, they'll have no problem."

You smile sharp teeth at the tallman. "What are you called?"

"Laios."

You let the water slip down into the pool and move forward in a crouch, finally pressing your head into his metallic stomach. "Thank you, Laios."

Chilchuck is the most suspicious of you, clearly not happy with the idea of letting a monster into the party. Even a clearly reasoning and thinking one like you.

Marcille is a bit more welcoming, especially as she hopes you can teach her some of your water magic.

Laios initially thinks you're amphibious like a fishman but as you don't breathe water it becomes clear you're more of a bird than anything else.

Marcille immediately shuts down any further discussion because she senses it getting uncomfortably close to figuring out what exactly you taste like.

But considering you grew up in the dungeon, your expertise makes travel much easier. Senshi also is able to take some extra parts of monsters the party has collected to make some water skins for you to carry water through the more dry areas for you to use as a weapon.

Laios is always eager to hear about monster culture - just as you are about the cultures of the surface. Marcille and Laios spend many meal breaks discussing with you about what your lives and daily activities are like

Chilchuck doesn't share, but then again he also doesn't share with anyone else, so it's not like it's an anti-monster sentiment.

But eventually you find yourself nestling close to Laios when it's time to rest for the night.

And one night, when he rolls over and rests his head in your feathers, you don't mind. You like the tallman and his unique opinions.

And perhaps these feelings may soon grow and evolve.

Until then, the party together shall eat, and almost more than their meals, their growing friendship is delicious.

Delicious in dungeon.

[loganhowlettshousewife]

animal

chapter 3

friendly reminder that i am not a writer, i'm just a girl who loves logan howlett and wanted to write something exploring his animalistic side since i so rarely see it done. my first language is also not english, so please do not be rude when giving me any feedback.

warnings: swearing, mentions of blood, mentions of sex, non-sexual nudity

series masterlist │my masterlist

logan sleeps in your bed now. night after night you found him on the hard floor, until you couldn’t deal with the thought of him being so uncomfortable just because he wanted to be near you. so you forced him into your bed, though you’re not sure if forced is the right word to use given how willingly he slipped in next to you - as if he’d done it a million times before, as if it was normal.

he’s a walking heater - you swear there’s a fire burning under his skin, working through his veins to spread throughout his body. you naturally run cold, you always have, so cuddling up to his warmth is a luxury. even in the beginning, when you didn’t want to fall asleep in his arms for fear of what it would mean for your relationship, you would wake bundled up in his arms, safe and protected and wanted in a way that made you never want to leave the bed.

it’s nice, really nice.

and it simultaneously sucks, because you’ve started having dreams of logan, of kissing him, calling him your husband, watching him rock a baby. and you’ve had other dreams too, the ones you’re sure logan can smell on you, with his advanced senses. he’s always awake watching you when you wake up from those dreams, his body still curled against yours, hard dick pressed against you. but he never does anything.

it’s horribly endearing. he’s obviously affected but won’t leave you, knows how much comfort you’ve found in his arms. so he grits his teeth and bears it. despite being half-animal, he’s more of a gentleman than most of the men you’ve met.

and you love knowing that you affect him, knowing that your feelings for him are not completely one-sided, even if you can only be sure of the physical component. when you leave the room to start on your morning routine, he stays behind.

you can’t be certain, but you imagine him taking his dick in his hand, stroking himself to completion, hard and desperate and quick, muffling the sound of his groans with a hand pressed to his mouth.

you’re not used to being woken up like this, however. logan hovers over you, face twisted into a snarl so full of hatred it brings tears to your eyes. his claws are out and have ripped holes in the sheets and the mattress, locking you in a makeshift cage.

his eyes are glazed over, like he’s not quite present in the moment. he’s somewhere else right now, lost somewhere in his mind where you can’t reach him.

this isn’t a slow awakening where you can take time to blink the sleep from your eyes, letting them flutter shut for two more minutes to enjoy the bliss of being not-quite awake. the adrenaline hits you hard and fast, your heartbeat pounding loud in your ears.

you’re trembling, can feel it with every breath you take, shaky exhales and sharp inhales. you’re careful not to make any sudden moves, worried about what logan may do to you.

you know him, know he wouldn’t hurt you. but he doesn’t see you right now, you don’t know who or what he’s seeing in your place. but he’s never looked at you with these eyes, with this level of anger - in fact, you can’t remember a time when he’s truly been angry at you. scared, cautious, tense, maybe. but not fury like this.

“logan,” you whisper.

the sound has barely left your throat when he pulls one clawed hand away from the mattress, tearing more of it in the process, before punching his claws towards your chest. you cry out, instinctually, and that snaps him out of it.

you feel the sharp sting of his metal claws dragging over your skin as he pulls away. it’s only a scratch, and not a terribly deep one at that. you’re used to small injuries, pricking yourself in the garden or accidentally cutting your thumb while cooking or any other stupid way to draw blood to the surface of your skin.

but it’s not the pain that matters, it’s the thought that if it took him a second longer to break out of his nightmare he could have pierced your heart, killed you. 

“logan,” you ask, shaky, “are you okay?”

he’s staring at you, eyes wide and frightened, but the hatred that was there is gone. his claws retract back into his skin. he nods, slow, never breaking eye contact with you.

and then you burst into tears.

you can’t stop, your cries hysterical. logan sits on the bed, moving away from you with every cry that rakes your body, but you grab at his arms desperately, needing him. somehow, despite logan being the reason for your fear, he’s the only thing you want, your mind calling out his name like a prayer.

he hesitates to touch you at first, but you beg him with a broken “please”, and then he’s all over you, pulling you into his lap, nuzzling his face into your neck. he kisses you softly on the skin there, a habit he’s taken up that you don’t mind. you probably should mind, but you’re unable to care about that when it feels so right.

you fall asleep crying in his arms, the exhaustion pulling you under. you wake up again with the sun, logan looking haggard and pale, still holding you. it seems he didn’t fall back asleep when you had.

your throat feels raw from crying, and you can feel the tear tracks where they dried on your skin.

“what was the nightmare about?” you try to ask him.

he shakes his head, every line around his face pulled taunt, “no.”

you’d expected such an answer, something short and succinct where he refuses to lay his problems on you. still, you’d hoped he might share some information, even a sliver of his story that could help you help him.

you’re still worried about logan, but there’s not much you can do if he won’t speak to you, so you leave the bed to wash the dried tears from your face. you go on with your routine as usual, keeping a closer eye on logan, waiting for possible signs to help you uncover the mystery of whatever the fuck is happening with him.

there are none, of course - he’s very difficult to read when he wants to be.

he doesn’t touch you as much, a step further behind you than usual. but otherwise his behaviour doesn’t change too greatly. he’s still sweet and grumpy and lovely.

you teach him how to cook your favourite breakfast foods, and to your surprise, it comes naturally to him. he works by your side like he’s always been there, listening to your instructions perfectly every time. the cuts on your chest still burn slightly, but simply feeling his presence by your side makes everything better.

you’re reading a book on the couch when logan returns from hunting. he never brings anything from his hunt into the house, for which you’re grateful, but he does drag in a lot of dirt. 

you have a routine by now, or at least the bones of one. he likes it when you help him clean up after a hunt or a run in the forest, and so do you. it’s the kind of moment you imagine you’d find in a book, with a couple so deeply in love that they can hardly stand to be apart for a second.

you’re still not completely comfortable with the idea of stripping naked in front of him, but logan has no such qualms. in the bathroom, he pushes his pants and boxers down in one motion.

you blush as he steps into the shower, so unashamed of his body. there’s a wild edge to him that you notice more in moments like these, where you realise the impact of not having those human memories, the socialisation that teaches you to dislike yourself, teaches you that confidence is a negative thing, makes you vain and egotistical.

the water soaks him in an instant, flattening his cute hair tufts against his scalp and you giggle at the way he looks like a wet kitten, though less disgruntled.

he tilts his head expectantly, waiting for you. his gaze is dark and heady, intense as you pull off your shirt, leaving you in only a bra. your face warms as you take off your skirt next, watching logan’s face the entire time, the way his eyes linger on your panties for a long, long moment.

it’s not the first time you’ve undressed in front of him, but every time the effect is the same. warmth pools in your stomach, a mix of arousal and nerves. he’s intoxicating, and that’s terrifying to you.

you don’t take off your bra and panties. they feel like armour, protecting you from being fully defenceless in front of him. it’s not like he couldn’t see the full shape of you, every curve of your body, the parts that you love about yourself, that make you smile at the mirror, and those you hate. 

still, it makes you feel like the one in control - he’s completely naked and you’re not - though you know that he’s larger and stronger than you, that really he’s letting you be in control of the situation, not moving too much as you wash the blood and grime from his body. 

he cares so much about your comfort. sometimes it makes you want to cry. 

“you, now,” he grunts.

“what?”

you’re taken aback at the break in the quiet. it always shocks you a little when he speaks, his voice rough from disuse. 

“i will clean you, now,” he gestures at you and you laugh nervously, taking a step back, as far as you can until you hit the tiled wall. it’s not a very large shower, there’s not really anywhere to go.

“logan,” you whisper, heart in your throat, “no. not right now, okay? finish up your shower, i think- yeah i’m going to go now.”

you practically run out of the steam-filled bathroom, feeling like you’re going to collapse at any second. the thought of him stripping you out of your remaining clothes, unclasping your bra, pulling your panties down your legs and tossing them aside, his hands running over your body, even for something as innocent as washing you, something you’ve done with him a dozen or so times.

you’re having enough sex fantasies about him as it is, you don’t need to add more fuel to the fire. and the thing is, you want it. you want him. you want those fantasies to come to life. but you can’t help but fear that logan’s only clinging to you because you’re the one who found him when he was at his most vulnerable.

when he goes out into the world, whether that’s sometime soon or if it takes years, will he start to resent you? will he find someone better? will the soft intimacy that’s been growing between you collapse like a house of cards?

you’re in your bedroom, laying on top of the sheets, staring up at the ceiling when logan enters.

“you’re upset?” he asks, and at the tone of his voice, the pain that you hear reflected in each syllable, your head turns his way. he looks devastated, like the idea that you might be upset at him is the worst thing that’s ever happened to him in his life. you’re very certain that’s incorrect.

he looks so innocent like this, not a wild animal with claws that rip through flesh like butter, but a man, anxious and unsure and pleading. you can’t help the smile that rises to your lips. you shake your head as much as you can against the mattress and reach your arms out towards him, a wordless beckoning.

“never,” you say.

within moments he’s in your arms, hugging you tight, his face pressed into your chest. it’s nice, the solid weight of him, like a very heavy weighted blanket. minutes pass, and then logan shifts his body just enough to look up at you.

he makes eye contact with you, and in his eyes you see a raging storm. his face is blank as it often is, a mask that you can’t read, but you can feel his muscles tense as if preparing for a fight, can catch a glimpse of several different emotions in the hazel staring back at you.

he leans up, until his face is barely a centimetre away from yours, and your breath catches. you’re scared to hope, terrified, even if all signs point in one direction, so you don’t move closer but you don’t move away, eyes fluttering shut as if it’ll all become easier, as if the butterflies in your stomach will recede, if you’re not looking directly at him.

he closes the distance between you, mouth meeting yours in a chaste, soft kiss. it’s nothing like you expected from logan, feral and intense in everything he does. but he’s waiting for a response from you, scared in the way you’ve only ever seen him once, when you’d first found him in the barn.

he pulls away and you grab onto him desperately, forcing him to crash back into you. you share open-mouthed kisses, hot and urgent yet so loving. it’s everything you’ve ever dreamed about, perfect in the way little else can be, and you feel tears prickling in your eyes, a sob catching in your throat.

you’re absolutely fucked, your heart stolen by him, and you can only hope logan meets you where you are and doesn’t hurt you.

taglist: @mystiquesvendetta @raeinyourdreams @babey-fruit-bat @meetmypointlessaddiction @kneelforloki @deaky-with-a-c @hypermarvellove @littlepeanut03 @the-ruler-of-death @aliengutzstuff @misscrissfemmefatale @mynamesstevenwithav @teaganthemorningstar @blackkatzz @leryg0 @fries11 @forksloree @i5uckersblog @dragovegogrimborn @quillycrow @melday0105 @just-a-little-cellist

if your name is in white it means i couldn’t tag you for some reason. i’m very sorry :(

[whosjunglejim4322]

Saccharine - E.M

Warnings ® smut! Fluff, soft bf Eddie<3, first time sex as a couple! Nasty IN LOVE smut bc this bitch is a hopeless romantic! Eddie is super sensitive, Established relationship, you stroke his dick, Eddie almost cums in his pants, lil bit of dry humping, this is incredibly self indulgent but u didn't hear that from me, overly descriptive bc why not

You shouldn't be nervous, really. It's just Eddie, who is your boyfriend of three months and twenty-six days. Who is sitting across from you on his creaky mattress criss-cross style, your knees touching. Your Eddie, who has two big hands flailing in the air as he goes on about the recent campaign, broad mouth etched into a whimsical smile, big eyes wondrous and full of excitement for the tale.

The bed bounces with his enthusiasm, and you draw closer to him with each syllable.

Your Eddie, who is doing nothing out of the ordinary, and who is as beautiful as ever in loose fitting plaid pyjama bottoms and a tattered black tee that exposes half of his collarbone and smudges of black ink - he doesn't even have to try, and perhaps these simple mundane realizations are what cause the flutter of wings in the pit of your stomach.

"And then Mike - hey, you okay?"

If it weren't for his vast change in expression, you truly wouldn't have realized what a trance you're in. Between the furrow of his unkempt brows and the amused but curious tilt at the corner of his mouth, you come back to earth. The weight of gravity settles in your bone marrow, as his calloused thumb quickly strokes your chin as if to remind you he is still here.

"I - yeah yeah, sorry I just," you grab his hand by the heaviness of his wrist, dragging it into your lap so you can stroke the back of his rough knuckles. "got distracted s'all."

Your eyes divert to where your fingers are joined and the sound of his airy, through-the-nose chuckle has more heat blossoming behind your ribcage, nudging at your organs.

"I'll stop with the D&D talk, know you hear enough about it from the kids. There's only so much dorkiness you should be subjected to, y'know?"

It's lighthearted, he's smirking and looking down at you with enough palpable fondness the apples of your cheeks feel like they're being stroked by a flame. Still, the implication that he may be bothering you in any way has an urgency filling your eyes. You shake your head.

"No, no that never bothers me Eds, don't be silly." The nickname makes his mouth dry, still, after three months and twenty-six days. You finally meet his glance. "You're just handsome, really handsome especially when you're talking about something you're passionate about and I just...yeah."

It's word vomit, messy and you feel like it makes no sense but then he squeezes your hand and you know that he reads between the nervous mumbo jumbo - you have no clue how you make him feel, do you?

"You're fucking cute." He breathes out earnestly, smoothing his grip upwards to your forearms and pulling you forward with minimal effort - right onto the stirdiness of his lap.

Your giddiness is the perfect portrait, your arms finding a resting place atop his broad shoulders. Curls tickle the tops of your arms and your wrists, and your thighs brace your frame by the slim of his taut waist. He can't help it, the giggles escaping his throat. The proximity is intoxicating for no reason at all.

"Can't believe this is our first time spending the night together, I'm so used to falling asleep on the phone with you that it really doesn't feel all that different." He smooths your hair out of your eyes, tucks it behind your left ear.

I get to touch her like this, he thinks to himself. His chest jostles underneath the muscle and bone.

"Yeah, except I get to fall asleep with you'n my arms, wake up with you in em' too. I'm one lucky son of a bitch, hmm?"

He's practically thinking out loud, but he's too far gone to feel shame. When you nuzzle your face against the warm nook of his neck, wet lips smiling against the flesh, his encapsulating arms squeeze you impossibly tighter. He buries his nose against the top of your head, inhaling the fresh scent of your shampoo. Your cheek grazes the side of his jaw as you meet him face to face, nose to nose.

He sees you trying to formulate words, a sentence, even a sound but none of it seems like a totally accurate way to express the adoration threatening to consume you from the inside out. You graze his cheek with your mouth, slowly, tentatively, and he hangs on with half an air full of lungs.

You suckle his bottom lip and he sighs into your mouth, the relief making him lightheaded. He kicks into gear and pushes back with an overlap of his mouth - hands wandering over the small of your back, to your soft lovehandles and upwards until his fingrtips have passed your jugular and he's holding your face as tenderly as you're holding his.

It's now, when you feel it - the growing firmness beneath he thin material of his bottoms. He tries to keep it at bay but it's damn near impossible, and the whimper, the fucking whimper you let out when his soft tongue touches yours from the warm cavern of your mouth - he couldn't stop it from twitching even if he wanted to. He's only a man.

And you're a menace. As new as this is, your body reacts to the prod in between your legs, underneath your crotch. You press yourself tighter to his frame, hips scooching against his hard-on in the process and he stiffens.

"Mmm, baby baby..." your pout is immediate when he breaks from your mouth, brows furrowed and lips a kiss bitten fuschia. For a moment, you think you've taken it too far too fast - he's stopped you from moving completely. Your whole body burns with a tingly sensation somewhere between shame and the aftershocks of arousal.

"Are you...are you okay? Did I do something wrong?"

You sound so sweet, it makes his lower belly ache among other things. He stifles a laugh brcause he knows it will only make you feel worse. Something wrong. Something wrong.

"Fuck no, I-sorry I just uh...almost..." He can't bring himself to say it, you guys haven't even been kissing for five whole minutes and here he is about to blow his load. When you realize how close his dark lashes are from kissing his cheeks, how his pupils have almost turned the whole of his irises onyx, you connect the dots.

Woah, you did that to him? That moth in your belly threatens to take flight, and without much thought, your mouth is moving before you can stop it.

"I wanna see."

Those are the only words your brain allows you to spit out. His chest has gone still, and you feel that twitch against your center again. Your thighs have begun to tremble.

"You wanna see...? My cock?" He shouldn't sound so incredulous. You're his girlfriend for christ's sake, but you are important to him. More important than he ever thought anyone could be, and so he has kept his lust at a minimum of 48% when he's around you for the most part. Save for intense makeout sessions.

"Yeah, I wanna...well I wanna know how to make you feel good."

He's worried for a moment that he's having another wet dream, but he's sure this is real life because he feels how warm you are against him and you are so close he can see his own reflection in your eyes. You toy with the shell of his ear and a chill ascends his spine.

"Sweetheart if you touch me m'not gonna last long." His skin is pink and scarlet, and he's gotten at least ten degrees hotter judging by the heat billowing off of the back of his neck. His adams apple bobs when he swallows.

"That's okay, really it is. You have nothing to be embarrassed about....I like it. Like that I make you feel that way. " You rake your fingers through the front of his hair, pushing it away from his pretty face. He checks your eyes again, needing confirmation.

"Are you sure? You don't have to do anything you don't want to." He gnaws on the inside of his plush mouth, tries to calm the animal inside of him that wants to fuck your brains out right now. He almost feels guilty just thinking about it, until you lean over to peck the side of his stubbly chin, fingertips grazing his taut belly.

"Yes, really wanna."

There is a curious, nervous anticipation in the crinkle underneath your eyes.

"Kay' baby, explore all you want." The boyish smirk he gives is enough to have that knee buckling tingling sensation coming back full force as he presents himself to you like this. Does he seem as pulled together and totally not overly nervous as he thinks he does? Probably not.

His arms depart from your body, ribs expanding as he reclines on his palms. Tendons flex and stretch underneath the black bats and fuzzy layer of hair atop his forearm. You swallow, intimidated by the beauty of the boy.

You find the courage to finally move off of his lap so that you can take him all in, and the bulge of his cock swipes the underside of your thigh as you slide off.

You don't know where to touch first. That's a lie, your hands almost instinctively slip underneath the hem of his old shirt, where that dark thatch of hair trails under his belly button. He's soft, so soft it's unreal, he is velvet and delicious scarring and beauty marks. His tummy convulses underneath your hand.

He watches you with complete fixation. You have your bottom lip tucked between your teeth and you don't even realize it, all perched and pretty in front of him. He closes his eyes when you explore his sides, over the planes and arches and past the small stretch marks by his chest.

You can't ignore it anymore, the tent that has formed at his crotch and continues to throb with each passing touch.

The blunt of your nails rake down the soft plaid covering thick thighs, and he takes this sharp breath that has you glancing up at him with heavy eyes.

"So pretty...Eds you're so pretty." You say it ardently, your voice small and weak. An arm reaches down, strong but gentle as he strokes the back of your plush cheek with his ring covered knuckles.

"Can't fucking believe...can't believe you're mine, finally. Shit." He's almost murmuring to himself again, on the verge of cardiac arrest. Maybe he's losing his mind, maybe this is heaven.

Then your palm presses against the thick of his cock where it's bulging out, and his thighs spasm.

"Oh, oh." He's all curses and praises, giving you encouraging glances each time you look up at him to silently ask for guidance. You move your hand up and down what you assume is his shaft, and he keeps his hips from bucking into your touch. He feels thick, and the back of your mouth starts to water.

Without warning you're hooking your fingers into his waistband, and he lifts his hips in compliance so that you can pull them down to his mid thigh. He has no time for nerves anymore. Any fear he previously had about what his dick looks like, or what you'll think of it, is stripped along with his clothing. You're looking at him with too much love for him to be insecure - and that takes him by surprise the most.

At this point his checkered boxers are just in the way, and you take it upon yourself to pull those down too. A thud hits his belly.

And really, you should've known. He's big. Not because he's impossibly long, his size is above average but he's thick - the tip iridescent with precum, the same shade of plum as his lips underneath the slick sheen. He is slightly curved upwards, a prominent vein decorating the underside parallel to his frenulum. It's pretty, just like the rest of him. He's neatly trimmed, which is the most surprising part if you're honest - but nothing about Eddie could ever be displeasing to look at.

Your mouth is parted with this expression of surprise, and Eddie almost can't believe what this is doing for his ego.

"Woah." Is all you say, transfixed when you reach out to grasp the appendage. He hisses through his teeth when your small hand finally grasps it, so fucking warm and so gentle it's almost maddening. You both feel it, the invisible weight that has settled in his small, messy room.

The weight of being alone, together, all night and all of tomorrow afternoon while his uncle Wayne is away on a business trip that is probably more lucrative than what he leads on - but Wayne has never been one to boast or speak about things like that out loud. Says it'll jinx the whole thing.

The feeling hits you first, as you find this foreign courage to lean over and dribble spit over the slit of his cock. He gasps, watching the glob of saliva drip down the front of his dick till it's soaking into the curls at his pubic mound.

"Is this okay?" You already know the answer but you ask anyways, taking more pride than you should at the expression on the pretty metalheads face. He nods his head fervently, unable to respond right away.

You twist your palm, spreading your spit further until his whole head is covered and you're able to stroke him with no resistance.

"Fuuuck, yes. Yeah, that's so good baby." He's panting as you begin to properly jerk the tip of him off, the sounds in the room too lewd for you to handle. A squelchy feeling has developed between your thighs, led by each filthy groan that leaves your boyfriend's throat.

Then you're looking at him through fluttery lashes and a gone expression, with your chest rising and falling almost as rapidly as his and thick fingers grasp your wrist quickly, rougher than anticipated.

"Sorry, just - close."

Seeing his hand blanket yours over his cock is doing something to you. You know his palms like your own, hold them more than you look at your own, and yet right now such a sweet thing has never been more provocative.

"Shh, no more apologizing," you lean over and he meets you in the middle. The kiss is sloppy this time, evidence of the maddening desire taking him over from the inside out.

"Not fair," his voice is strained through your mouths ministrations. "Got me all worked up and you're sitting there neglected." He smiles and his tongue strokes your bottom lip. You shudder as that heat comes in an overwhelming wave.

He's gripping the back of your neck now, properly hungry and your hand continues its ministrations between your bodies, that wet sound prompting a shared groan from the both of you - intensifying the feeling. His nose is scrunched against your cheek from the vigour of his kisses.

"You can undress me."

He doesn't waste time once you've granted him verbal permission, and with an exhale you're being tipped over onto your back, breathing in the weight of him as nimble and eager fingers pull his tee shirt over and off your body.

"Jesus," He whines, and you're captivated by the look on his face. It's impossible not to feel flustered.

"Can I-" you don't let him finish.

"Yes, please touch me." You're just as fucked as he is, arching your chest upwards and into the warm, all encompassing mass of his palm. He stifles a groan, cock bobbing up and down in the space between you two, dribbling with a bead of pre arousal. You feel like you're losing your mind.

Eddie short circuits for about five whole seconds flat, and he can't concentrate. He makes a bee - line to your chest, plush lips sucking your swollen nipples into his mouth. A gasp and a pulse of your poor clit later, and your fingers delve into his curls like they'll keep you here in this moment forever.

He's sloppy, moving between the valley of your breasts to the other one, leaving trails of spit across your flesh.

"Eddie, that - that feels so good, can't - mmph." You're a mess. How are you such a mess? He's a phantom, a head of hair across your sternum until he glances up at you with saliva soaked lips and red cheeks and a sweaty forehead.

"Sweet girl, oh god I can't believe..." All you taste is him, the words being uttered between the space when he forces himself to breathe. "can't believe you're all mine, wanna make you feel so fucking good. Give you anythin' you want."

He lies his full weight on you, and through the thin sleeping shorts you've got on, his cock beckons you with throbs and weeps. You feel drunk off of him, every sense surrounded by Eddie. Eddie. Eddie.

His shampoo from two days ago, the old spice lingering under his arms, the natural scent of his skin, the sweetness of his breath and the perspiration that's formed in little beads on his upper lip. He's all but devouring you, lust and admiration for the angel beneath him taking over any sense of importance regarding anything else.

Your heels dig into the back of his bum, knees pulling inward so that his hips come clashing into yours. Your fingernails claw on the material covering his back, taking it upon themselves to pull it over his head. He's beaming like a kid in a candy store at your eagerness, eyes all crinkly underneath.

"Want me to grab a rubber now?" He mumbles between the sloppy kisses, hoping you can't hear the hitch in his throat at the prospect of this finally happening.

"Mhmm, yes." It feels just as surreal for you.

He whines as he departs, reaching over across your head to pull open his bedside drawer and ungracefully tear open the new box of condoms. His eyebrows are furrowed, arms flexing with intensity from his excitement. He groans out of frustration, and you giggle, grasping his thick forearm.

"Let me help baby." You reach in the drawer for him and pull the box out, finishing the rip he'd made and pulling out a metallic row of squares. You tear one at the perforation and hand it to him, grinning at the entire situation. He huffs and rests his forehead between the valley of your breasts.

"What would I do without you?" He mutters, matching your expression when he lifts his head back up and pushes forward to kiss you on the tip of your nose.

"Not have sex, I suppose." You bite back with no hint of malice, only an insurmountable level of love and he sees it shimmering everywhere around you. His girl. His.

"You're somethin' else, sweetheart." He mouths the side of your face, across your jaw and underneath your ear.

You feel like you're in a psychological limbo, in a world between consciousness as he sits back on his haunches and lifts his shirt off of his body from the back of his collar. That may be a dramatic sentiment to many, but it's fitting.

He does it so casually, throws his shirt to the side with the rest of discarded clothing and stray items that live on his bedroom floor. You feel weak in the knees when he tears the condom package and pulls out the slippery rubber, unraveling it before bringing it down to his cock.

You watch his face the way his pink tongue darts out and nips the tip of his tongue, brows furrowed in concentration and arousal as he fits the condom down his thick shaft. You watch his biceps twist, his taut abdomen clench, the black ink coming alive with the ministrations of his muscles underneath.

When he meets your eyes again, you look completely overtaken with desire, eyelids heavy and breath bated. Your pebbled nipples stand at full attention, mimicking his dick and Eddie hooks his fingers underneath those infuriatingly sexy shorts of yours so that he can get rid of them.

You're not wearing underwear. Of course you aren't. Your entire existence is specifically designed to test the bounds of his composure, of his strength. The gold room lighting from his lamp illuminates your body and your shy thighs only part when he's placing his palms between them, slowly encouraging them to allow him a peek or two.

You reach out to stroke his arms as he separates your legs, his jaw hanging ever so slack, cock twitching just a few centimeters away from your opening.

"Fucking hell...you're so goddamn pretty." He strains, swallowing hard as he touches you with hesitant hands, as if he's scared to break you. Your hips lift, just enough to make contact with the tip of his dick and you whine. It's a sound so sweet he almost whimpers himself.

"Please, Eds. I want you inside of me. Please."

His stomach tightens and he crawls over you once again, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

He maintains eye contact, breath fanning your mouth as he slips an arm between your bodies and grips his shaft, lining it up with your entrance. Your thighs lift towards your chest, ankles stationed at his waist, and you feel the welcome intrusion of his tip as it passes your slick labia.

You both take a breath in, your fingers needing a vice and moving to the back of his neck as he pivots his hips forward and slips himself into the tightness of your cunt. The stretch causes you to hiss, both in pleasure and pain.

"You okay? Let me know if I need to stop." He grunts, kissing your chin.

"M'okay, don't you dare stop."

His eyelids flutter in tandem with yours, a choked moan leaving his throat as he continues to push himself in, till he's nudging against the soft roundness of your cervix and his balls are resting against your ass.

It feels right. Having him this deep, this close.

You shudder nuzzling your face against the bicep that holds him up. You kiss the skin there and he groans, dragging himself back out and then back in. Your whole body jostles with the movement.

"Jesus Christ, how do you feel s'fucking good? I don't - I can't, fuck." He's a slur of words, beginning to form a steady rhythm. Your moans are more like squeaks the faster he goes, increasing the lewd, sticky sounds between your legs that squelch with each drag and pull of his cock.

"Eddie...E-eddie." Your words are hiccuped from the impact, his hair dangling in your face, tickling your cheeks. His belly is pressed right against yours, the curls at the mound of his pelvis pressed against yours. He lets out this pained sound and goes to bury his face in the crook of your neck.

"My name, fuck say it again. Say it again." It's muffled but you can hear it right underneath your ear, his lips a soft vibration against your flesh. You feel so full, it's hard to speak at all. To say anything other than his name. So you recite it like it's the only words you know.

"Eddie Eddie Eddie Eddie." They're all punctuated with a whimper that starts from your diaphragm and crawls it's way out of your throat, pistoned by his hips and their grueling ministrations. Skin against skin can be heard from down the park, you're convinced, with how he's fucking you.

Eddie is fucking you. Your boyfriend, Eddie, is fucking you.

"Ohhhh, god, please." You cry out, heels digging into his back, hands splayed across the broad expanse of his shoulder blades. Every breath that passes his lips is followed by a grunt, a groan, a sound that is so close to agony and even closer to toe curling pleasure.

Each stroke of his cock inside of you feels like a pull into his being, and you get frustrated with the fact that you can't see his face, tugging at the back of his neck.

When you look up at the boy above you, reality, for once, feels like the most beautiful thing you've ever endured.

He's flushed, all sweat and shades of pink and red. His eyes are glassy, mirroring yours in the way that it almost looks like he could shed a tear. You move his sticky bangs from his forehead and Eddie is sucker punched in the gut with a wave of adoration.

"Oh, sweetheart," he leans down, slowing his thrusts so that he can kiss you steadily, purposefully. Somehow he feels deeper this way impossibly so, and he nips your bottom lip when you flutter around him. "didn't mean to...to not show you attention m'sorry, just...you feel so good. S'like heaven."

He's half sober half drunk on your pussy and it's so fucking endearing. Neither of you can make out a coherent sentence.

"Keep - keep going, just like that, ohhh." You glance down between your bodies and somewhere behind your organs a warmth, teetering unbearable, flutters throughout your limbs. His arms shake with the fight to hold himself up, until he doesn't anymore, and slips his hands underneath you till they're sandwiched between the mattress and your back. Snug, safe, he engulfs you.

His thrusts are deep and slow now, meaningful instead of mindless bunny fucking. Which, he's not opposed to, but you're you. He wants to fuck you like he might not ever get the chance to again.

"I love you, I love you." He whimpers against the crook of your shoulder. You hold him with the same ferocity that he's holding you, staring up at the ceiling and the stars that blanket your vision instead of the fan above.

"I love you too, fuck, Eddie."

He makes this noise, it's almost pathetic. Petulant. That coil holding you tight, snaps and all at once you're gasping, thighs a deadly grip around his waist.

"Cu-Cumming, I'm cumming." Your walls flex and spasm around his length and Eddie thinks he might pass out. You're still twitching and whining his name with his balls are emptying, when he's spurting into the condom, nudging your cervix.

"Fuck, fuck just like tha- ohhh fuck." He thrusts like he's fucking his cum into you, like he's filling your womb up and making you his forever. He made you cum. He's never felt this high before, and he's a fucking drug dealer.

It's a mixture of panting and the thud of your shared heartbeat for what feels like eternity and one split second. You feel his lips peppering soft, gentle kisses along your jugular, and your fingers trace lines up and down his warm back as his cock softens inside of you.

He rubs his cheek against you, and your fingers pull his hair away from his pretty face. He's looking at you with so much love you could burst again.

"I love you so much." He speaks tenderly, softly, for once. It's scary and breathtaking all at once. The tip of his nose rubs yours, your smiles a reflection of the other.

"I love you too, Munson."

And you do. You really fucking do.

[luveline]

hiiii, I miss Eddie and Roan so much. Could you write something about them pleaseee? ❤️❤️❤️

eddie and roan try not to fall asleep while (almost stepmom) reader bakes a tray of brownies, 1.5k

Eddie can't sit on the couch, he lays down. He has ever since he can remember, and while he tried to be polite when he first moved in (unlike Roan, who made herself at home delightfully quickly), you're way past that now. 

"You look uncomfortable," you fret, tilting your head to the side as you look down on him in concern. "You want a pillow?" 

"I want you to lay down with me immediately," he says, making grabby hands at your stomach. 

You refuse him with a stunning, angelic, beatific smile, the kind that makes him think fuck I should marry her, before he remembers he's already going to. If there's one thing about Eddie Munson, it's that he wholeheartedly believes that you're the prettiest woman he's ever met. Maybe you started that way, maybe he loves you so much you've metamorphosed into an intoxicating creature of good looks, but whatever it is, he's obsessed with it. 

"Lie down with me," he demands. 

"I'm gonna make little brownies," you say, shaking your head, "but I know someone for the job." 

He's half expecting you to scoop Mr. Porterson out of his tank and hand him to Eddie in a cup, but you head upstairs to Roan's bedroom. He can hear your voice through the floor, and his daughter's answering gasp. She all but runs down the stairs, demarcated by you and Eddie shouting the same thing, "Don't run down the stairs, Ro!" 

She's huffing and puffing by the time she gets to the living room, rounding the couch to stand in front of Eddie. "Hello," she huffs. "You need a hug?" 

Eddie opens his arm and drags her in. He should say something cheesy and loving, like, don't I always? He's not a super serious guy, but it's been on his mind a little more often as the wedding approaches and Roan gets taller how lucky he is to have you both, and how things could be totally different. He never expected to be a dad and he honestly didn't want to be before he saw her little face.

Eddie remembers picking her up when she was still smaller than his arm, two inexperienced hands under her armpits raising her up because he realised he could. 

Her legs scrunched up toward her chest and he thought, oh, my god. And now she clambers on his chest and does her pill bug curl with her knees, reminding him so much of her baby scrunch and the way her head smelled. He drapes a gentle arm behind her and tries to pour every ounce of love he possesses into his touch as he pats her shoulder, a steady thump, thump, thump. 

"You smell nice," Roan accuses. 

"That's weird. Maybe check again." 

She sniffs him. "You smell yummy, like Y/N's shampoo." 

He may have ran out of body wash, and he may have used a dollop of your shampoo. He doesn't think it'll matter in the grand scheme of things and all you're sharing, but he puts his finger to his lips. "Shh," he whispers, "don't tell." 

"You said I'm not supposed to have secrets," Roan says. 

"You're not." Eddie draws a line down her back just to hear her giggle. "Except this one." 

"That's what you said about the last one." 

"This one and that one, then." Not like she managed to keep that one secret, either. What was he thinking, telling his five year old he wanted to propose? She lost her mind aloud. 

Then again, she spilled the beans and you immediately told Eddie he had to move in with you (he can't remember it perfectly now, but he's pretty sure you said, 'I think you better move in', which was just bossy enough to have him falling in love twice over). 

"I don't like secrets," Roan says.

Her voice strengthens as she gets older, and her pronunciation of things grows smoother. Occasionally she speaks and she sounds much older than she is. Currently, she talks with a funny cadence, emphasis on things that don't need it and, and an underlying sense of awe like she can't believe what she's saying. 

"Fine," Eddie says, pulling her closer still, "we won't keep this one secret. But if she shouts at me I'm going to have to sleep in your room tonight." 

"I'll sleep with Y/N." 

"No, because I'll need you to dry my tears." 

Roan nods into his chest, the faux silk of her sleeve shushing against his shirt as she brings a hand up to his hair. "Okie dokie," she says, twisting one of his curls around her fingers. "But don't cry." 

"I'll try not to, sweetheart." 

She smiles and relaxes fully into his arms. 

"Are you tired?" he asks. 

"Don't think so." 

"You've already got your jammies on. You don't want a bath tonight?" He's feeling affectionate for his life, adding, "Mommy has new bubble bath, it smells like chamomile. I'm sure she'd love to share with you." 

"Yeah?" 

"Mm-hmm." His eyes are getting heavy. Maybe he's tired. The thought of a bubble bath almost puts him to sleep. 

"Don't fall asleep," Roan whispers. 

"I'm not, Ro. Just resting my eyes. You don't have to stay and cuddle if you're busy." 

"I like you," she says. 

"I like you too." 

— 

Little brownies are the best thing ever. You make a very wet brownie batter and pour it thin in a big baking sheet. You barely cook them, and then when they're cooled and cut you freeze them, and when they defrost (at a time of your choosing) they're perfect for eating or putting into Roan's school lunchbox. You set the last tupperware of them into the freezer and wipe your cold hands on a dish towel, happy. 

It's a bit strange, but before you met your Munsons, you had no idea how peaceful it could feel to have done something for someone else. You weren't an overly selfish creature but there's this unnameable feeling that comes with doing this kind of 'chore'. Taking care of the people you love… 

Well, it feels good. Not as good as this is about to feel, you guess, turning off the kitchen light and locking the front door as you go. Eddie and Roan lay on the couch with the TV set to a loud volume. You'd assumed they'd both be awake, but it seems they've fallen asleep despite the odds. You're gonna languish in it with them just as soon as you can tetris your way into the pile.

Roan has crawled up the length of her dad's chest to press her cheek to his, and Eddie's wrapped his arms around her tightly, tucking her in with nowhere to turn. 

You can't fit into their cuddle pile without disturbing the peace, but you can't be expected to abstain, surely. 

You sink down onto the floor by Eddie's head, bringing your hand to his sleeping face. Careful, you stroke a twisted baby hair against his forehead, the dark kink of it like a thread through pale skin. 

Roan stirs, or wasn't as asleep as you thought. She yawns wide, lips smacking as she asks, "What are you doing?" 

You grin at her loud whisper. "Just looking. You okay?" 

"He's squeezing me." 

"Too much?" 

"No, I like it. I feel like a sardine." 

"Yeah?" You rest your upper body on the couch, her pyjama top satiny under your hand. "You like it? You're not claustrophobic?" 

She gives you a daunted look.

"It means squished, pretty much," you say.. 

"I like it," she reaffirms. Roan pulls her arm out of Eddie's grasp to touch yours. "Dad says I can have some bubble bath." 

"Of course you can, princess. You know you can have anything of mine." Except the top shelf stuff, but she can't reach that high. "I left you some brownies for ice cream." 

"You did?" 

"Yeah, I did." You meet her eyes, formidable baby browns that you never stood a chance against. Her cheek is warm as you lean in for a quick peck. "You're beautiful. I love you." 

Roan gasps happily. "You're beautiful-er!" 

"Thanks," Eddie mumbles, smirking as he starts to wake from his nap. 

"Time d'you call this, Eds?" you ask fondly. 

He turns his face one way and the other, agonised. "Oh, but I was so cozy! My girl is so soft and she's pretty much my blanket, and she was being so nice to me!" He sighs, a picture of distress, his voice croaky with the edge of sleep. "Can you ever forgive me?" 

"Sure!" Roan says, laughing. 

"Just this once." 

He squints at you. "This is pretty much your fault anyways." 

"You'll forgive me. Please?" He leans up for a kiss. "S'what I thought," you say into his lips.

You nudge him back and squeeze onto the couch. He has to go on his side for you to for and Roan ends up half on top of you, a knee jabbed into your stomach. Still, it's fine for now. Your quiet desire to be cuddled with them is abated, a strong arm behind your back and a much smaller hand sneaking inside your shirt sleeve to warm the attached, similarly small fingers. 

[basketballanonsblog]

Save the First Dance (for me)

Kicking off the revised masterlist with this one.

TW: brief mentions of character death but mainly bittersweet fluff.

Nayeon x reader

Synopsis: What else can you do but run to the woman who has been waiting so patiently for you?

You ran towards the gate, barely making it through the nightmare that is airport security.

Passengers on your flight were boarding, and everything up until now had gone wrong.

From sleeping through the alarm to spending at least half an hour looking for the passport you could've sworn you put on the bedside table the night before.

Nevertheless, you boarded the plane and were finally on your way home.

"Come back soon, I miss you."

Your leg bounced rapidly, revealing your restlessness. There was a sense of impending doom settling in your chest, as you realised the plane was over the Atlantic, making your blood run cold.

Even the slightest jolt of turbulence had you gripping the armrest tightly.

You will make it home this time.

You shook out of those thoughts before getting lost within the past.

Maybe stretching your legs would do you some good.

"Excuse me." Your poor seat mate nearly dropped their phone in shock.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. Can I get past?"

She stared wide-eyed at you. Unnervingly, you may add.

"I'll take that as a no."

You didn't ask again, but waited until she fell asleep. Carefully, you climbed over her, but you didn't factor in the possibility of your foot getting stuck.

Which, of course, it did.

But you knew no one would be awoken by the commotion of you falling over.

What you didn't realise was that the woman had seen, forcing her to hold in laughter.

-◇-

No matter how much you waved, you weren't able to hail any of the taxis.

"Seriously?!" Your patience dwindled as the fifth one sped past.

A cab unexpectedly pulled up, but someone else opened the door.

It was the woman you sat next to on the plane.

She glanced at you, giving a minute signal for you to get in the car.

You realised in your journey that this kind stranger was the only person who looked directly at you.

-x-

You stood in front of her apartment building. You knew the code since you lived together, but you couldn't physically bring yourself to go in.

Later, you thought. She may not even be home.

As you wandered, you saw her again. Seriously, this was the third time in two days you bumped into this woman.

"We meet again..." She glanced around to see if you two were alone.

"Eun Jung."

"Y/n." You extended your hand to shake hers, but knew she couldn't take it.

"Did you find your sweetheart?"

The question took you aback. As you took Eun Jung's lack of response in the cab as a sign, she wasn't listening.

"Not yet."

"I know a lot of people, maybe I can help you find her."

"Considering she's Im Nayeon, I think she's well known around here."

"Im Nay...Hey! You could've mentioned that earlier!

"You didn't respond to anything I said! I took your silence as disinterest and changed the subject."

"Still, you dated the Im Nayeon."

Eun Jung realised who you were and began piecing everything together.

She wanted to help. Even if it was out of pity.

"Come on, I know where she is."

-◇-

It turns out that Twice has a performance today.

The two of you stayed far behind the crowd, and seeing her again made you feel so much.

She was smiling but wasn't entirely happy. You noticed the ring on her left hand.

A year later, she still wears it.

It was time to face the truth.

"She - " you glanced at your hands, hands you didn't want to admit were translucent. "She can't see me, can she?"

"No. No one can."

"Except you." She hummed in confirmation.

"Don't ask why because I don't know."

"I guess that explains why you don't respond when others are around. I noticed on the plane and in the car that my reflection wasn't there because I don't exist anymore." Your voice was tinged with resignation as you spoke, the reality setting in for the first time.

You continued watching the group when an idea occurred.

"Let me borrow your body." The poor woman almost choked on air.

Okay, maybe you shouldn't have been so abrupt.

"Eh?!"

"She might be able to see me if I'm in your body."

"Okay, first of all, ew." You rolled your eyes at her. "Secondly, I don't think it's a good idea. What if you get stuck? A lot of things can go wrong, and it might not even be possible."

She was right, but it didn't help in making you feel any less dejected.

Eun Jung began to feel guilty for shooting your idea down, but when she turned to apologise, you had disappeared.

-◇-

It didn't take her long to find you again since you ended up sitting opposite the Han River.

You two took in the view of the sunset.

"She's - was my fiancée. We were supposed to marry last summer, but a month before the wedding I had to go overseas for work. I tried hard to get out of it but couldn't. Thankfully, I managed to wrap things up a week early. I booked an earlier flight to surprise her, but obviously, I never made it back home."

"So that's why you were jittery during the flight."

"Yes."

"You're here now though, and we keep meeting; that has to mean something. We need to see Nayeon."

"It's pointless if she can't see or hear me."

"Trust me, you're destined to see each other once more."

"Just like how I was destined to die and never marry her?"

"Y/n. I'll get you two closure, even if it's the last thing I do. Now come on."

-◇-

Ghosts are useful in getting into places you shouldn't be. I'll remember that. Eun Jung thought as the both of you stood in front of Nayeon's apartment.

You were definitely trespassing, but that was the least of your worries.

Nayeon answered the door, and all you wanted was to hold her.

"Hello ma'am, I'm Eun Jung. You're probably wondering why I'm bothering you at this hour. I knew y/n, and I'd like to offer my condolences.

Nayeon was initially sceptical, but when she mentioned you, she beckoned her inside.

The other members were there too, and she had to resist asking for an autograph. It was amusing to see your new friend starstruck.

At first, Nayeon was eager to talk about you, but something was off. There were too many inconsistencies, and she knew what it looked like when a person was being coached. It made her suspicious about the stranger in her home.

As politely as she could, she tried to usher Eun Jung out, making her resort to plan B.

"Y/n is here! She's been here the whole time."

Will the pain of hearing your name ever fade? Nayeon asked herself.

"Is that supposed to be funny?" She didn't have time for cruel jokes.

"Please, you have to believe me. I'm aware I sound crazy, but I wouldn’t be here if I wasn't trying to help y/n."

The other members stepped in, getting ready to call the police.

Eun Jung was getting desperate. She tried to wrack her brain for a solution, but only one came to mind.

"Ugh fine! You can do it." But she wasn't talking to them.

"What?" You asked.

"Your brilliant idea from earlier."

"Really?"

"Yes! Now hurry before I change my mind, especially with the looks they're throwing at me."

Each of them were becoming confused and almost frightened at Eun Jung talking to herself.

"Thank you. I owe you one."

"Yeah, you do."

Your spirit merged with Eun Jung, setting off a cast of light. It felt weird to be back in a body.

Even if it wasn't your own.

You admired it, flexing your hands and fingers, reminding yourself how it felt to be human again.

Nayeon felt her legs give out. Fortunately, the members supported her. They looked to you in disbelief.

"Nayeon." The sound of your voice made her shiver.

"Y/n."

Cautiously, she approached you, and with the gentleness she yearned for terribly, you cupped her cheeks.

The world faded away when you leaned forward and kissed her. She kissed back softly but with so much passion.

You kissed through each other's tears, and you kissed over and over until your lungs were begging for air.

She hugged you when you finally broke apart.

"I missed you so much." If it was possible, she clung to you tighter.

"And I you, my love." You pulled back to run your thumb across her cheek. "I couldn't leave when I owe you a dance."

"Hold that thought."

She ran to the bedroom with the members, re-emerging a few minutes later in a wedding dress.

"You never got to see me wearing this until now." You broke down at that. You were robbed of the chance to see her walk down the aisle.

The heartbreak resonated with the members as they too began crying.

With her hand in yours, you danced together. Even if it was temporary, you let yourselves imagine it was your wedding day.

Music filled the apartment, the very song that would've played for your first dance as wives.

But like every fleeting yet perfect fantasy, it had to come to an end.

You began shining, which meant you found your closure.

It was time for your soul to be fully put to rest.

"My love -" Nayeon began sobbing again, clutching you tightly.

"No. Don't go, please stay. I can't lose you again."

You kissed the top of her head in an attempt to comfort her.

"I can't stay like this forever. That would be unfair to Eun Jung."

You separated from your friend, leaving her disorientated. Being a ghost's host body was exhausting.

Your spirit emitted so much light. Everyone could see you now, even without Eun Jung.

How cruel it is, Nayeon wondered. That she got to your experience, your touch, only for it to be ripped away from her a second time.

"It's okay, Nayeon. You don't have to feel guilty about moving on. Promise me you won't be afraid to find happiness."

"I promise." You couldn't wipe away her tears this time. "I love you."

"I love you too."

With one more look and smile at your friends and the love of your life, you faded away.

Nayeon's eyes shut as you disappeared, but she drew strength from the ones who held and stood by her through this.

She would not break her final promise to you.

[talkdutchtome]

Glitch- chapter nine

pairing . . . max verstappen x reader / mason mount x reader )

summary . . . when mason mount finds out that his assistant has been harbouring feelings for him for years, he makes it clear he doesn't feel the same way. but once he sees her become closer with formula 1 world champion max verstappen, he realises he may have underestimated his feelings towards the girl he has now pushed into the arms of another )

genre . . . angst )

song . . . glitch- taylor swift )

series masterlist . . . available here )

a/n . . . endlessly sorry for how long its been, but i'm back now and we're straight back into tooth rotting fluff <3 )

The dull and familiar sound of the iphone ringtone pulled Y/N abruptly from her nap, she groggily reached for device that woke her so rudely, blinking away the remnants of sleep as she saw Reece's name on the caller ID. 

"Hey, Reece. What's up?" she mumbled, still half-asleep. 

"Hi, Y/N," came Reece's voice, surprisingly serious. "Did you seriously go to Monaco? With Max?" 

Y/N's heart skipped a beat. "Um, yeah," she admitted, unsure where this line of questioning was leading. 

"Are we, like, real friends now? Not just, like, mutual friends through Mason?" Reece's question was direct, leaving no room for evasion. The haziness of her nap now long forgotten.  

Y/N hesitated, caught off guard by the abruptness of the inquiry. "I... I guess so," she replied tentatively. 

Reece didn't mince his words in response. "Does Max know that you and Mason slept together?" 

Y/N could literally feel her heart sink. She wasn't prepared for this confrontation, especially not with Reece, she didn’t even know how he knew about that. 

"I, uh... I don't know what you're talking about," she stammered, attempting to deflect. 

"Cut the bullshit, Y/N," Reece snapped, his usually easygoing demeanor replaced by an uncharacteristic sharpness. 

Y/N's breath caught in her throat. She'd never heard Reece speak like this before, and it rattled her.  

"Okay, fine," she relented, her voice barely above a whisper. "Yes, he knows. He came to visit me that night and he could tell something was up and sussed it out, and we decided I should come to Monaco to give... whatever we have a chance. Away from M- away from distractions." 

There was a heavy silence on the other end of the line, and Y/N braced herself for Reece's response. She couldn't shake the feeling of vulnerability, exposed by Reece's penetrating questions. 

Finally, Reece spoke, his tone softer now. "I understand, Y/N. I hope you figure out what you want." 

As Y/N ended the call, she took a moment to collect herself, the weight of Reece's words settling over her like a heavy blanket. She knew she couldn't evade the consequences of her choices, no matter how much she wished she could. 

The soft knock on the door stirred Y/N from her reverie, and she quickly composed herself before answering. As Max entered, his concern was evident in the furrow of his brow and the gentle tone of his voice. 

"Hey, Y/N. How'd you sleep? Is the room okay for you?" Max inquired, his eyes scanning her face for any sign of distress. 

Y/N managed a small smile, grateful for his consideration. "I slept fine, thank you. And the room is lovely, really," she replied, her voice soft but genuine. 

Max nodded, seemingly satisfied with her response. "Good to hear. So, who were you talking to on the phone earlier?" he asked casually, his curiosity piqued. 

Y/N hesitated for a moment, unsure how much to reveal. "Oh, just Reece," she replied, hoping to brush off the conversation. 

Max arched an eyebrow, sensing her reluctance to elaborate. "What did he want?" he pressed gently, his gaze unwavering. 

Y/N swallowed hard, knowing she couldn't avoid the truth. "He... he was asking if it was true that I came here," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. 

Max's expression softened at her words, a flicker of understanding passing between them. "Oh, how did he know that?" he inquired, his tone gentle but probing. 

Y/N closed her eyes briefly, steeling herself for the admission. "Mason," she murmured, the name heavy with unspoken implications. 

The mention of Mason hung in the air like an unwelcome guest, casting a shadow over the room and injecting a palpable tension into the atmosphere. Y/N felt a knot form in her stomach at the mere sound of his name, a stark reminder of the complicated dynamics that had brought her here. 

For Max, the mention of Mason was like stumbling upon a hidden obstacle in an otherwise smooth path. He couldn't ignore the sudden shift in Y/N's demeanor, the subtle tensing of her shoulders and the guarded look in her eyes. It was a reminder of the delicate balance they were navigating, with Mason's presence looming large over their fledgling connection. 

The silence that followed was thick with unspoken words and unresolved emotions, each of them grappling with their own inner turmoil. Y/N struggled to reconcile her lingering feelings for Mason with the growing attraction she felt for Max, while Max found himself grappling with a sense of unease at the thought of his newfound connection being overshadowed by a past that seemed determined to intrude. 

Max sensed the discomfort radiating from Y/N like a tangible force, and he knew he had to act quickly to alleviate the awkwardness that had settled between them like a heavy shroud. With a subtle shift in his demeanor, he gently changed the subject, his voice carrying a note of reassurance as he reminded her of their upcoming dinner reservations. 

"Hey, um, so, about dinner," he began, his tone light and casual, "We've got reservations in about an hour. Thought we could grab a bite to eat and maybe explore the area a bit afterward. What do you think?" 

His words hung in the air, a lifeline tossed amidst the turbulent sea of emotions that threatened to engulf them. Max watched as Y/N's expression softened ever so slightly, a flicker of relief crossing her features at the prospect of shifting their focus away from the uncomfortable topic at hand. 

"Yeah, that sounds good," she replied, the tension in her voice easing as she welcomed the distraction Max offered. "I could use a nice meal right about now." 

Max offered her a warm smile, his eyes reflecting a silent understanding as he nodded in agreement. "Great. I'll let you get ready then. Just give me a shout when you're good to go, yeah?" 

Y/N nodded in response, a grateful smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she watched Max make his way to the door. As he stepped out into the hallway, she couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for his intuitive nature, for his ability to sense her discomfort and offer her a much-needed reprieve. 

As they drove to the restaurant, Y/N couldn't help but feel a twinge of intimidation as she took in the sleek interior of Max's car, a luxurious vehicle that spoke volumes about the extravagant lifestyle he led. She couldn't help but wonder what it must be like to live in a world filled with such opulence and grandeur, feeling a bit out of place amidst its lavishness. 

Upon arriving at the restaurant, however, her apprehension began to dissipate as she noticed the quaint charm of the place. It was a cozy little spot, far from the flashy extravagance she had expected, and she found herself feeling more at ease as they entered. 

They were greeted by a sweet, elderly couple who seemed to know Max well, exchanging warm greetings and friendly banter as if he were an old friend. Y/N couldn't help but smile at the genuine affection they showed him, feeling a sense of warmth wash over her as they complimented her appearance. 

"Max, my boy, you've outdone yourself this time! Who's this lovely lady you've brought with you?" the elderly gentleman chuckled, his eyes twinkling mischievously as he teased Max. 

Max chuckled sheepishly, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush as he introduced Y/N to the couple. "This is Y/N, and she's far too good for the likes of me," he joked, though there was a sincerity in his voice that made Y/N's heart skip a beat. 

As they were led to their table, she couldn't help but notice the remnants of a slight blush on Max's cheeks, a sight that caused her heart to flutter with an unexpected surge of affection. Sitting across from him, she found herself captivated by the way his eyes sparkled with a hint of excitement, his smile lighting up the room as they settled in for their meal. 

During dinner, Max and Y/N found themselves immersed in a discussion about their respective childhoods, sharing stories and anecdotes that offered glimpses into their pasts. 

"So, Y/N, tell me about your family," Max prompted, his curiosity piqued as he leaned forward, eager to learn more about her background. 

Y/N's eyes sparkled with fond memories as she began to speak. "Well, I come from a big family," she started, a warm smile gracing her lips. "I have three siblings – two sisters and a brother – and we're all really close. Growing up, our house was always bustling with activity, and there was never a dull moment." 

Max listened intently, captivated by her description of a lively household filled with love and laughter. "That sounds wonderful," he remarked, a hint of admiration in his voice. "What was it like being the oldest?" 

Y/N chuckled, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "It definitely had its challenges," she admitted, "but it also taught me responsibility and the importance of looking out for others. I always felt like I had to set a good example for my siblings, and that's something that's stuck with me throughout my life." 

As their conversation continued, Y/N turned the spotlight on Max, asking him about his own family and upbringing. Max shared stories of his childhood, delving into what it was like to grow up in a very driven household, where he spent so much of his time as a kid karting and preparing for a career in Formula One.  

After their delightful dinner, Max suggested they visit Le Rocher, a spot where they could admire the breathtaking views of Monaco's old town. As they strolled along, Y/N couldn't help but be mesmerized by the picturesque scenery unfolding before her. 

"It's stunning," she breathed, her eyes sweeping over the panoramic vista. 

Max nodded in agreement, a soft smile playing on his lips. "This is one of my favorite places to come when I need a break from the racing world," he confessed. "Here, I can just be Max." 

Y/N listened, soaking in the tranquility of the moment as they shared a quiet conversation, the gentle evening breeze carrying their words away into the night. 

As they reached a particularly scenic spot, Max mentioned Daniel's persistent encouragement to start a jpeg Instagram account like his. "He's always on my case about it," Max chuckled, turning to face Y/N. "But I've been thinking... what do you say we do a little impromptu photoshoot?" 

Y/N's initial hesitation melted away at the sight of Max's infectious enthusiasm. "Sure, why not?" she replied with a grin. 

With Max behind the camera, they embarked on a playful photoshoot, capturing candid moments and genuine smiles against the backdrop of Monaco's twinkling lights. As they laughed and joked together, time seemed to stand still, and Y/N found herself immersed in the simple joy of being in Max's company. 

As the night wore on and the early hours of the morning approached, they reluctantly called an end to their impromptu adventure. But as they made their way back to Max's apartment, the memory of their laughter lingered, a testament to the undeniable connection they shared. And as they bid each other goodnight, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling that perhaps, in each other, they had found something truly special. 

Throughout the week in Monaco, Max and Y/N embarked on a series of adventures that seemed to draw them closer with each passing day. Max took her out on a yacht ride, where they basked in the warmth of the Mediterranean sun and marveled at the azure waters surrounding them. They went swimming and jet skiing, reveling in the exhilaration of the open sea. 

One evening, Max surprised Y/N by cooking dinner for her, showcasing his culinary skills with a delicious meal prepared with care. As they dined together, sharing stories and laughter, it felt like they were in their own little world, untouched by the complexities of reality. 

With each passing moment, the bond between them deepened, and Y/N couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging whenever she was with Max. In his company, she felt understood and cherished, as if being around each other was something that was meant to be. 

Despite the idyllic moments they shared, Y/N couldn't shake the lingering thoughts of Mason and the tangled web of emotions that still tied her to him. But in the midst of their blissful escapades, she found solace in the simple joy of being with Max, relishing the moments they spent together and cherishing the connection they shared. 

As race week descended upon Monaco, the tranquil days spent with Max swiftly transformed into a whirlwind of excitement and anticipation. Y/N marveled at the seamless transition as Max shifted gears from the laid-back companion of the past week to the determined machine ready to conquer the race track. 

She observed Max navigate through a flurry of press events with effortless charm, amazed at how the sweet man she had grown fond of could seamlessly transform into a focused and driven athlete once he stepped into his race car. 

During practice sessions, Y/N stood in Max's garage, taking in the electrifying atmosphere as mechanics buzzed around, fine-tuning the car to perfection. She engaged in conversation with others in the garage, soaking in the insider's view of the Formula One world. 

When it was time for qualifying, Y/N found herself watching alongside Heidi, Daniel's girlfriend, forming a quick rapport with her as they cheered on their respective partners. The tension mounted as Max pushed the limits, eventually securing pole position in a stunning display of skill and determination. 

As Max emerged from the garage, triumphant and exhilarated, he sought out Y/N amidst the jubilant crowd. To her surprise, he pulled her into a spontaneous embrace, planting a kiss on her lips that left her head spinning. Caught off guard by the unexpected display of affection, Y/N could only watch as the cameras flashed around them, capturing the moment for the world to see. 

As Max hurried off to attend to his press obligations, Y/N remained in a daze, still reeling from the unexpected kiss and the flurry of attention that followed. Lost in her thoughts, she barely noticed the bustling activity around her until her phone suddenly rang, jolting her back to reality. 

Glancing at the caller ID, she was immediately brought back down to earth. She could feel sick rise up to her throat, she found herself wanting the ground to come up and swallow her whole.  

Her phone remained ringing, a picture of her and her best friend filling the screen with the one name she didn’t want to see right now. Mason.  

Tag list- (send me a inbox if you want to be removed or added <3)

@nightlockcornucopia @jaydensluv @girlytots19 @formula1mount @alwaysclassyeagle @aundercover @sofifiia @dessxoxsworld @lpab @lorarri @thelovehypothesis @torrie421 @ironmaiden1313 @celesteblack08 @glow-ish @urfavouritef1girly @alwaysclassyeagle @barnestatic @simxican @formula1mount @charli123456789 @mac-daddy-210 @lazybot @imguce @azxulaa @mehrmonga @sunny44 @skepvids @drunkinthemiddleoftheday @chimchimjiminie16 @tyna-19 @hoely-maria @stevesworld9 @f1lov3r @elliegrey2803 @heyyhelloohii @landosgirlxoxo @skepvids @aundercover @andydrysdalerogers @illicitverstappen @bbygrlllllll @kageyamama-hinatatata @imagandom @bibissparkles @sofifiia @dark-night-sky-99 @viennakarma @tyna-19 @wcnorris @storminacloud @girlintheredscarf @yourbane @anotherfan07 @hiireadstuff

[coolyum]

𓍯𓂃 𝓟ink 𝓟ony 𝓒lub

warnings : probably ooc dallas, fem!reader, mention of puke, mention of hooking up (nothing happens), hungover!reader, kindahungover!dallas, i've never been hungover b4 so i'm really bad at writing it, not proofread

pairing : dallas x reader

your vision was blurry as you slowly woke up, everything seeming dull at first. your eyes felt heavy and your mind felt fuzzy. a headache hit you like a train, pulling a soft, raspy groan from your throat. that's when you heard a similar sound from beside you. a little grumble could be heard followed by the rustling of bedsheets, causing you to lazily turn your head.

you could just tell that you were going to be so hungover today. your brain hurts, your stomach aches, your limbs are asleep. it feels awful. but you try to focus on whoever is laying next to you at the moment. you blink heavily, but even with blurry vision, you can see that it's a boy. not just any boy, dallas winston.

what's dallas winston doing here? why is dally laying next to you? you furrow your eyebrows and rub your eyes. you don't even notice he's awake until he says something to you.

"you feelin' better?" he mumbles, sleep evident in his voice. he's probably hungover, as well. his head rests against the pillow, and you can't help but notice at his position that he's not wearing a shirt. he's still wearing his signature necklace, though. you can't help but wonder something. it may be awkward, but you're too sleepy and hungover to care much. for now.

"did we hook up?" you ask, lazily forcing yourself over onto your side. you can't even make sense of how you feel. you've never drunkenly hooked up with someone before so you don't know how it'd feel the next morning.

a low chuckle comes from dally's throat. he shakes his head. "nah, we didn't. i wouldn't take advantage of ya like that."

it was a nice reassurance. your eyes slowly adjusted to the light streaming through his bedroom window. this is when you realize you're in his bedroom, in his bed.

"why am i in here?" you ask softly, genuinely wondering but also too tired to comprehend too much information.

dally caught this, so he made sure to keep his answer simple and understandable for your poor hungover brain. "you were really drunk. you ended up blackin' out so i brought you up to my room."

you let out a half-assed mumble in response. your eyes slowly closed as you couldn't keep them open any longer. you slightly adjusted yourself, pulling blanket up a little bit higher. that's when dally reaches out to gently brush something off your collarbones. he lets out a little grunt.

"damn glitter won't come off," he complains, giving up on getting it off of your chest.

at this point, your body feels aware of the body glitter you sprinkled on yourself the night before, and the makeup still on your face. you'll take care of it when you feel better. your shirt is slipping off of your shoulder, but then you realize it's not your shirt as you become more and more aware.

you open your eyes tiredly and look down to see if it's any of your shirts. nope. it's a simple, oversized black tee. dally notices how you look kind of confused. he finds it endearing. he finds you endearing.

"oh yeah, you puked all over your shirt last night so i gave you mine."

dally is acting kind of unusual. at least in anyone else's eyes. he's not the kinda guy to leave a severely drunken girl to fend for herself, but he's also not the kinda guy to care to the point of bringing her to his room to make sure she's alright. you, of course, couldn't grasp that information at the moment.

"think i'm gonna puke again," you say simply, the sickness evident in your voice. dally sits up, gently pulling you up with him. he's sure to be careful as he attempts to hold your limp body in his arms and pick you up without causing more sickness. he knows you need some time to sober up and feel better.

he brings you to the bathroom successfully, gently holding your hair back as you bend over the toilet. although he's this tough guy or acts like one for everyone to see, he cares about you. you and him aren't that close, so he sees pampering you today as an opportunity to get to know you better. he's never felt like this before. he's tried to avoid it, but now, he knows he can't. so as he holds your hair back and rubs his hand up and down your cold back, he realizes that this is almost if not completely at your lowest. he wants to see you at your worst and at your best. he's seen both. he knows he likes both. he wants both.

he's willing to try for you, even if it just starts with making sure you don't get sick and you sober up today.

xoxo,

coolyum!

[coffeeghoulie]

Mushy May Day 13: "Just Wanted To Hear Your Voice"

Timezones apart, Mountain and Aether share a late night/early morning phonecall.

Thank you very much to @forlorn-crows for putting Mushy May together, and to @ghuleh-recs for the divider. <3

(this could also be for the long distance extra prompt but i digress, enjoy the fic)

Aether wakes not to his work alarm, but to the drum fill in Respite, his phone buzzing on the nightstand. He shoots up, scrambling for it in a half awake haze. He fumbles to accept the call, pressing the phone to his ear.

"Mount?" He slurs, tongue not fully cooperating yet. His mind struggles with the timezone conversion, the rest of his pack, minus Sunny, halfway across the world. "'S gotta be late over there, what's goin' on?"

There's a deep sigh on the other end, made tinny through the speakers. "Hey, Aeth. There's no emergency. Sorry if I woke you."

"Don't apologize," Aether says, tension easing from his frame as he settles back in bed, phone pinned to his ear by his shoulder as he adjusts a blanket. He doesn't have to be to the infirmary until two hours from now. There's time. And if there wasn't, he'd find a way to make time. Anything for them. "I'm awake, sweet thing. How was the Ritual?"

Another sigh, edging on a groan. "Really fucking long. I don't even want to think about how many more of these we have left. I haven't had a chance to be outside for more than five minutes in a month, nova."

Aether hisses through his teeth in sympathy. He knows second hand what being cut off from one's element feels like, a phantom pain you can't quite shake. Quintessence is everywhere, so Aether's never experienced the loss of it himself.

It's easy for the rest of them to recharge; air a constant, water everywhere on Earth, fire easy to sate with heat. Dew's preferred method of recharging is near-boiling showers, taking advantage of hotels and venues and running their hot water bills sky high. It eases both his fire and what remains of his water.

Earth is a different story, especially when the pack is moving from city to city with barely room to breathe. It's always taken a toll on Mountain, but he takes it like a champ. Though Aether will always, always, always let him vent, knows how satisfying it is to let off steam.

"I'm sorry, Mount," he hums, clearing the sleep from his eyes. He'd been dreaming, something too realistic, almost able to trick his mind that he hadn't been asleep at all, that his mattress had been warm with three ghouls' worth of body heat instead of one.

"Why'd you think it's your fault?" Mountain chuckles halfheartedly. "You in charge of scheduling or somethin'?"

Aether hums. "Maybe. You don't know," he teases. "It's late over there, Mount. You want to hang up and get some sle-?"

"No!" Mountain cuts him off suddenly, distress sharp in his tone. "No, Aeth, please, don't make me hang up."

Aether can't see him, can barely sense their bond, stretched thin with distance. He can imagine it though, the way his shoulders slump, eyes pressing shut. "Not going to make you do anything. Talk to me, sweet thing. Anything you want, just let me hear you."

Mountain sighs, and he can just barely pick up the sound of a hand dragging down his face, scraping against his stubble. Mountain normally likes a clean shave, itchy, regrowing stubble an easy way to send him into a sensory overload. But being on tour makes it difficult to keep up with the upkeep. He wonders when their next hotel day is.

"Cue's halfway through her third blanket," Mountain says slowly. Aether doesn't need to feel the bond to feel the exhaustion seeping into his voice. "We made a stop at a craft store a few days back, she came out with a literal armful of yarn. Every color under the sun. I think she cleared out an entire color's worth of baby blanket yarn. She said something about making one for Aurora."

Aether hums considerately, reaching with one hand to the purple and navy blanket that had been pushed aside in his sleep. Still as soft as the day she had shyly handed it to him, the second one she had ever made, only a few months' summoned. She's come out of her shell since, but Aether rubs the yarn between his thumb and forefinger and remembers anyways. "Aeon's gotten theirs?"

There's silence for a second, and a quiet spew of Ghoulish cursing. "Just fucking nodded like you could see me," Mountain laughs, exhausted. "The second one she made was Aeon's."

"They like it?" Aether asks, biting back a yawn, tail going ramrod straight as he stretches his back. There's the sound of a privacy curtain being pulled back, and Mountain groans softly before the curtain is pulled again.

"Had to make sure they were still out there," he explains. "They're currently burritoed up in it on the couch with Swiss."

"Don't get up and do it now," Aether says, chuffing at the mental image of the new quintessence ghoul all cozy. "But in the morning, if they're still wrapped up, send me a picture, will you, sweet thing?"

A soft chuckle. "Of course, nova. Thank you."

"What for?" Aether says.

"I dunno. Just wanted to hear your voice."

Aether chuffs, reaching for his glasses. It's almost time for him to get up out of bed. "Thank you, too, then," he says, sliding his glasses on one handed. "I miss you all terribly."

There's a long sigh, which changes halfway through into a yawn. "I don't want to hang up, Aeth." His voice is as small as Aether's heard it in years, not since the last time the pack was thrown into upheaval.

"I know, Mount. I know. But you still need to sleep, sweet thing. Call me in the morning?" Aether offers, knowing that he'll probably be on his break by the time Mountain wakes, ever the early riser.

"I'll call you in the morning," Mountain says, still a little hesitant. "I love you, nova."

Aether smiles. "Love you too. I'll talk to you soon."

[fisheito]

*rings the service bell* hi um i was wondering.. if there's any yakumo temperature play in here? sounds silly but i only realised after i circled the building a few times... that i haven't seen it at all. Seems to be common practice, actually- to not have it. i've visited several other buildings and there's been no sight of it.

which is... strange? if i think about it, it's surprising that i haven't encountered it yet! it sort of makes sense to have them together, you know? considering that temperature is so vital to a snake's perception of the world. and how sensitive reptiles are to temperature fluctuations.

so there's a lot of control to be had here. can you imagine controlling someone's energy level just by adjusting the thermostat? er- well, i guess we already do that. but imagine you put yakumo in an ice bath and he immediately falls asleep. brumation happens instantly now, sorry. and the only way to snap him out of it is to stick a flaming dildo up his ass

what?. no, i mean, restore his regular energy level with a soft warm-up. a heated blanket and a gentle steam. hahaha.

people plunge themselves into ice water before jumping into hot tubs and vice versa- for fun! they do this recreationally!! they call it a "spa treatment" and pay a premium for it! what's wrong with giving yakumo a spa treatment? who are we to deprive him of such sensory luxury?

i'm JUST SAYING that since he naturally gravitates toward heat, you could put him in a hurt AND comfort scenario he could be naked and cold, banished to the distant corner of the room.. but when you offer him a source of warmth, whether that be a hot rock or a warm hand or 20 lit candles suspended above him dripping wax on him at random intervals,,, wouldn't he have a tough time turning down your generosity?

i mean, he certainly would if he was tied up.

see, here's the other thing i cannot quite comprehend-- it's that--- how has a snake yokai not featured bondage scenes yet? i guess there was that one time with the.. hm. no, we shan't talk about the cellar. besides, ONLY ONE TIME is unacceptable for a sentient rope!! although yakumo would love to wrap up his prey and squeeze the cum out of em, i feel like we're missing out on a lot by not OutSnaking the Snake. tie up and restrain the Restrainer. it's just a liiiiittle step farther than putting him in a pillowcase! so mild!!!!

here's a guy who is always worried about losing control/// about being free to wreak havoc on his loved ones, despite his best intentions. so how about we give him a moment of peace? a moment where he believes he's subdued and unable to cause harm? just tie him up! keep him under TIGHT lock and key. (or some nice soft cloths for his sensitive skin, if we're being nice.) honestly, his brain will do the rest of the work. even if he's not truly incapacitated, his desire to BE So can fill the gaps in any questionable knotwork.

while he's half in the prison of his mind and half in the confines you've created for him, take some time to squeeze some whimpers out of him. although it pains me to cover up those soggy eyes, a blindfold may be an intriguing option. is yakumo the type of snake to rely on heat vision? WHY NOT FIND OUT! (if he's not terrified at his loss of sight, then i guess his pit organs are functioning . in which case, the blindfold doesn't really need to stay on. if he IS terrified and feels the loss of visuals acutely, this would be an excellent opportunity to soak in his panic. just for a bit though. we're not so cruel. guide him back with a warm touch. see? playing with fire temperature contrasts can bring such relief!)

maybe i'm getting ahead of myself. i don't expect yakumo temperature play to show up WITH bondage , why- that would be asking a lot, right?

but the basics are simple enough, yes? give the wretched creature the comforting warmth he wants, then perhaps inch closer to something bordering uncomfortable? Too Much? have him seek out what he craves, only to be burned (metaphorically and/or literally) if he indulges himself too much? oops! someone's become a slave to their senses!

i'm just saying that the sensory perception of yokai vs kink is (relatively) unknown territory. if temperature play already messes with humans, what could it possibly do to yakumo? he could experience it in facets unknown to others.-=- to levels others are incapable of appreciating---- like someone with synesthesia who can experience music with another layer of enjoyment.

if you give a snake ice cream, followed by a hot piece of meat [unknown origin], it'll really make him aware of the contrast, hmm??????

anyway. sorry about that. i'm not super clear on the specifics of it all. i just thought it peculiar that i haven't seen the yaku-hot-cold-sensitivity-finagling. out there, in here, nowhere as far as i've seen..

...or is it located in a part of the building i overlooked? if so, could you direct me there? i would really appreciate it.

if you don't have it after all, that's ok. i'll keep a careful watch now that i know what i'm looking for. maybe it's one of those things where, once i actively search for it, i'll notice it everywhere! wouldn't that be delightful!

with that, i guess i'll be on my way. thanks for your patience. yeah, i hope i find it too. have a good one!!

[pedroshotwifey]

To the Flame chapter 13

Series masterlist

Pairing: Dark!Javier Peña x afab!reader

Chapter w/c: 2.9k

Chapter warnings: physical abuse, mental abuse, manipulation, non consensual piv sex, non consensual vaginal fingering, degradation, alcoholism, panic attacks, fluff at the beginning, hurt/no comfort, non consensual makeout session, suicidal thoughts, self hate

Chapter Summary: Javi does something he won't be able to take back.

A/N: Hey, babes. This is the first chapter in which Javi takes the reader in a non consensual way. This time won't be super in depth, but the next times will be. It hit very close to home for me and was difficult to write, but I'm glad I got it down. It's a pretty tough chapter regardless, and I hope that you keep my warning in mind <3

*****

You wake up to a soft hammering sound coming from the kitchen. It’s faint as you start to come around, pulling the sheets up to your eyes to guard yourself from the sun pouring in through the window. You don’t remember coming to the bed last night. Javi must have carried you in, you realize after a moment. 

The thought of Javi taking care of you again makes you smile, and you realize that the sound must be him working on the tiles or cabinets you had asked him about. You smile and stretch out, deciding you may as well get up. You pull the blanket from your body and let the light bathe you for a moment as you slowly open your eyes and adjust to the brightness. You stay there for a moment, enjoying the peaceful feeling that’s settled within you this morning. 

After a few minutes pass, you hear a small crash come from the front of the apartment, waking you up from the half-asleep state you’d fallen back into. You sigh and slide out of bed, pulling on one of Javi’s tees that had been piled on the floor since he seems to have stripped you to your underwear when he tucked you in bed last night. You quickly move to the kitchen, a bit worried about whatever that sound had been.

“Javi?” You call his name as you reach the doorway and find him crouched over what looks like a broken tile. He pops up quickly and holds a hand out to stop you. 

“Careful, sweetheart,” he gently warns. “Dropped a damn tile.” 

You nod and take a step back after reaching to hand him the broom that was propped in the corner closest to you. He thanks you and begins gathering the pieces into the dustpan. He’s quick to get it all and dump it into the trash can, doing one more scan of the floor before turning back to you. A smile spreads across his face as he crosses back to you. 

“Well don’t you look gorgeous in my shirt,” he marvels as he embraces you. You giggle into his chest and let him gently sway you as you bask in his warmth. 

“What would you like to do today, bebita?” 

You shrug. “Whatever you want.” 

He chuckles quietly and plants a kiss on your head. “Well, I mostly just planned on getting some stuff done around the apartment today.” 

So that’s what you do. It’s honestly the best day you’ve had in weeks. You didn’t do much but sit and talk with Javi while he hung cabinets and put tile down, but you couldn’t have been happier. It was like everything clicked back into place and nothing had ever gone wrong. 

By the time the two of you were getting ready for bed, you were brimming with contentment. You cooked one of your favorite dishes for dinner, and the two of you laughed over a bottle of wine before snuggling up together in bed and going to sleep to buzzed conversation. 

You’d fallen asleep to Javi’s strong arms wrapped around you, but when you wake up in the middle of the night, you’re alone in bed. You jump awake, startled by a crash from the kitchen. It’s louder than the one from this morning. Or maybe yesterday morning. You’re not sure what time it is. You’re more concerned about what the hell Javi might be doing and if he may have hurt himself. 

You pull yourself out of bed and slip on a shirt before padding out to the hallway. You get an odd sense of deja-vu as you creep into the kitchen the same way you had this morning. This time, though, there’s a strange feeling rolling through your stomach. You’re not sure why, but it’s enough to make you almost nauseous. 

“Javi?” You meekly call his name as you round the corner to find him sitting at the small table. There’s an ashtray in front of him as well as a glass of whiskey. You know it’s whiskey because of the empty and shattered bottle laying carelessly on the ground by his chair. He doesn’t have the lights on, the only bit of light coming from the streetlamps beneath the small window. 

He doesn’t even look at you as you walk toward him, taking slow and careful steps. There’s panic already starting to rise within you. You’ve never seen him act this way—like he’s not really there with you. He doesn’t acknowledge your presence, just as unbothered with you as he is the broken bottle on the floor. 

As you reach the table, you can almost smell the stench of the alcohol emanating from him. Ignoring your dry mouth, you gently place your hand on his shoulder. He doesn’t flinch, but he still doesn’t turn to look at you. Instead, he raises his glass to his lips and downs the last bit of whiskey at the bottom. 

“J-Javi?” 

This time, he turns his head just slightly, not exactly looking at you, but at least letting you know that he knows you’re there and speaking. 

“Why don’ you grab me another bottle, sweetheart,” Javi slurs lazily as he lets his head loll to rest on your hand. Your heart squeezes at the sound of his voice. As long as you’ve known him, he’s never drunk this heavily. Sure, he’s been picking up more beer as of late, but this is a whole new level for him. 

“No, Javi, I think you’ve had enough.” You mean for it to sound assertive, but it comes out quiet and sounds more like a suggestion. 

He spins fully now to look into your eyes, though his stare is much less imposing than usual. There’s instead a glassy and distant look to them. 

“An’ did I fuckin’ ask you?” 

You flinch back slightly at the ferocity of his words. He ignores it and pushes out of his chair and then passes you to get to the alcohol cabinet. He throws open the cupboard door, letting it slam against the back of another, and snatches another full bottle of whiskey as you jump again at the sound. You take a step back this time as he brushes past and sits back down. He starts to pry the top off of the bottle and you spring into action. You can’t let him have more. It’s on you now if he drinks too much. 

You wrap both of your hands around it and try to take it from him, but he only holds on tighter. You’re so tired and disoriented already, you really don’t want this to be an issue. 

“Javi, please let go, you’ve had enough.” It comes out a bit stronger this time, and it gives you a bit of confidence to see something flash in his eyes. In an instant, he lets go of the bottle. 

You sigh as he stands back up. “Thank you—” 

Your eyes widen in terror as you watch raise his hand and rear it back. It almost happens in slow motion, the twist of your stomach and the way your breathing shallows. Everything in your head empties and is instead replaced by fear and confusion. Your heart drops and you try to get out of the way, but he brings his palm down across your cheek before you can. You yelp and stagger back, dropping the whiskey in the process. 

There’s a loud thunk at your feet as you cradle your cheek and drop yourself to the floor, shuffling away from Javi as quickly as you can. You’re not even crying yet, just shaking uncontrollably. You get all the way to the wall before you stop and look up at Javi, who has already taken a seat again and popped open the dropped whiskey. You feel the tears fall now, letting you see him clearly instead of through the blur. Faintly, you think you hear him murmur something along the lines of “shut you up last time”, and it causes a sharp twinge from somewhere deep inside of you.

You think you might be hyperventilating, because you feel light and everything still seems to happen too slow. You don’t understand. You didn’t do anything. Why would he do that? 

“Don’ look at me like that,” Javi’s too-casual voice comes from in front of you. You realize you zoned out as you let your eyes focus again to see him looking down at you from the table. “‘S your fuckin’ fault.” 

Your head shakes. It’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything. 

“N-no—” 

“Got a call from Steve today,” he goes on, ignoring you. “Told me his wife was concerned about a bruise she thought she saw on your face,” he motions to his own face with a lazy finger before grabbing the bottle again.

You think you might throw up. 

“Told him it was a shadow. Don’t think he believed me.” He stands back up now, walking toward you. You heave an audible sob as you back as far as you can into the wall, and you come to an awful realization. You’re fucking terrified of him right now. He has a look in his eyes that you’ve never seen before, one that can’t guarantee anything good. He’s watching you like you’re prey, like you’re something he wants to inflict pain upon. 

“Please stop,” you breathe. You can barely even hear it, so you know that he can’t. Your eyes screw shut, unable to watch this nightmare as he gets closer. You want to bolt, but you’re glued to your spot on the floor. Even though you can’t see it, you can sense him crouch down in front of you. 

“Look at me.” 

You shake your head, ignoring the tremble of your lips as your tears trail over them. 

“Look at me!” 

Your eyes snap open to find his face only about an inch from yours. You stare into his eyes, trying your best to keep them from closing again. His breath reeks of whiskey as it fans across your wet face. He doesn’t say anything, like he’s waiting for you to speak first. You know you should choose your words carefully, but you can’t. 

“I-I’m sorry,” you whisper, because you have no idea what else to say. 

The corners of his lips tug down as his eyes narrow. “Are you?” 

You let your eyelids flutter as you try to breathe normally. You can’t. So you nod, your head feeling heavy as you do so. You just want to lay down. The stinging on your cheek has climbed up your temple and is making your head pound.

“I’m sorry,” you repeat, the words not really yours. They just spill from your tongue. They feel too heavy and too light at the same time, just like the rest of you. 

“Yeah? You want to kiss and make up? Make everything okay again?�� His words are so taunting, dripping with condescension.

You just watch him, wishing the ground would swallow you up and let you go back to sleep in a quiet place. His hand comes up slowly to grab your chin in a manner so gentle that it makes you sob again even as you let your chin rest in his palm. You don’t dare take it away, and you honestly don’t think you really want to. The touch is comforting even if it is coming from him—or rather, this version of him. You refuse to acknowledge the fact that this man is still your husband. No, this is someone else. Some other person trapped inside of him that will go away eventually. Your Javi wouldn’t be so cruel. 

But you do nothing as that other person leans forward and slots your tear-soaked lips with his. You do nothing as he deepens it and slips his foul tongue into your mouth. Nothing as he grabs you and pulls you to him, nothing as he lowers you down to the floor and lets his body drape over yours, nothing as he carefully holds you and defiles your mouth with his. 

You focus on the fact that you can check out, not having to pay attention to the tears that keep crawling down your cheeks or the fact that the weight of your husband’s body suddenly feels so wrong. You can just focus on the numbness surrounding you, offering you an escape from the pain in your heart and mind. Just until this is over, until he’s had his fill of your lips against his.

You let him kiss you until your lips are swollen and all you can taste is him. Until you hear the unbuckling of his belt. 

You come back to reality, heart pounding as you squeal and struggle against him, pushing his chest and kicking your legs as his touch turns aggressive. He keeps his mouth over yours, muffling your cries and pleas as he holds you down, not caring about the force that is bound to set bruises upon your flesh. You’re trying to scream, trying to scramble away from him. Pure terror throbs in your veins, your heart aching with the rate of which it pumps it through your body. 

No, he wouldn’t do this. He wouldn’t hurt you in this way. This is too much, even for whatever stranger is on top of you right now. Thinning tears streak down your face and get caught where Javi is smothering your lips in a rough show of dominance, letting you taste the panic and fear that cause them.

You feel like you can’t breathe, everything is too much. You scream so hard that your throat burns along with your eyes and lungs, but it’s a feeble attempt because Javi’s mouth catches it the second it breaches your swollen lips. You want to hurt him. You want to fucking kick him and claw him and hold him down and make him feel helpless and useless and scared. 

You’ve never in your life had a thought like that, but right now, there is not a single regret as the evil thoughts race through your brain. With every fiber of your being, you want him to feel the way you feel right now. 

But you can’t. So you just cry. And shake. And let your body go limp in defeat as he shoves your panties down your thighs. And hate yourself so damn much that you wish you could die. You don’t know where the hate comes from, but it completely envelops you and you feel a tug deep inside you that tells you that you deserve it. So you listen. 

You let yourself brew on that as he uncovers your mouth and kisses your chin and neck, as he brings his hand down to shove two fingers inside of you. You can’t make any sound. You wish you could. Inside you’re screaming, you’re crying for help and yelling at yourself to just fucking do something, but you can’t, and you don’t know why. You hate yourself for it. You’ve never felt so fucking helpless as you do now, breathing shallow breaths instead of using your voice while you have the chance. 

Tears scald your cheeks as breathless whimpers tumble from your bruised lips with every pump of his fingers. He chuckles against your neck as your eyes squeeze shut. You try not to think at all as he pulls his fingers back and clumsily lines his cock up with your entrance a few seconds later. 

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. 

You repeat it like a silent mantra as he pushes in, the stretch painful with no prep. He doesn’t even hesitate as you try one more time to get away, weakly pushing at his chest and using your feet to scramble back. He holds you in place and thrusts in, grunting into your ear as he fully sheaths himself. 

Breathe, breathe, breathe…

“Stop,” you hear yourself softly protest. It’s so weak, though. Like everything else. You don’t even know how you said it. 

“Jus’ fucking shut up for a second,” Javi breathes. “You’re fine, you want this, slut. ‘S what you were so damn desperate for.” 

You might nod. You’re not sure, but your head moves, so you think that’s what it might be doing. Another betrayal from your own body.

Javi finds a good pace to keep up and continues to nip at your jaw. And you let him. Your stomach churns with every grunt and groan that lands on your skin, but you let him, because there’s nothing else you can do. You let him take you for what feels like hours, until he spills inside of you and lifts himself from your numb body. 

He walks away for a while, and you stare at the ceiling until he comes back. Your lips are dry. It’s an odd thing to notice out of everything, but your lips are dry despite your tears coating them. You don’t lick them, though, because you don’t want to taste the whiskey on your skin or the salty taste of your vulnerability. 

You close your eyes as he stands over you, not able to bear looking him in the eye. He walks away again, and you keep your eyes shut like you’re trying to go to sleep. You know you can’t, but you feel better focusing on that than letting your brain wander anywhere else. You keep crying and trembling, because there’s nothing you can do about that either. Nothing feels real, but you’re not sure if that’s a blessing or a curse. 

You flinch hard when Javi comes back later to pick you up and take you to bed. Again, you let him. You know he knows you’re not asleep, but you pretend anyway. You let him lay you down, scared and torn apart from the inside, and this time, you do try to sleep. But it doesn’t come for a long, miserable time.

*****

Alright, where are we at on this?

Taglist:  @corazondebeskar @yorksgirl @nerdieforpedro @axshadows @melaninmommy @survivingandenduring @kewwrites @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff  @callachloe @missladym1981 @sofiparallel @koshkaj-blog @sheepdogchick3 @movievillainess721 @jessie8605 @casa-boiardi @justlulu @iamsherlocked-1998 @hjzghi-b @solarecI1spe

Please let me know if you would like to be added or removed from the taglist!

[angronsjewelbeetle]

Fuck it I'm posting what I got so far before I really do conk out

First kisses with the Primarchs ~♡ Pt 3

Includes: Magnus, Alpharius/Omegon, Guilliman

Alpharius/Omegon: You’re settled between them, reading, with who you’re fairly sure is Omegon reading over your shoulder, and Alpharius seemingly half asleep with his head resting on yours. Omegon paws at your book when you go to turn the page - muttering about how he wasn’t done reading. “It’s nice that you can tell us apart,” Alpharius says suddenly, “yeah?” you hum as Omegon releases the page, “I agree,” he says, “even if you do mess up sometimes,” you snort at him and he smirks, leaning right into your personal space. “For example,” he mutters, your only warning being a quick glance at  your lips before his are on them, light stubble scratchy against your skin. “Wh- hey!” Alpharius says, amused and petulant as his hand comes into view to shove Omegon off you. He turns your face to his with a gentle hand, Omegon scoffs behind you and lifts the book off your lap as Alpharius kisses you, smooth and a little clumsy, his nose bumping yours as he barely remembers to turn his head, he tastes like sweet coffee. You blink as he pulls away looking rather smug. “You thought he was Alpharius,” Omegon says knowingly. 

Magnus: “By all accounts it doesn’t make sense!” Magnus exclaims, jolting you out of your drowsy state as he sits up with his hands curled, he looks at you and sighs, settling back down, “and to make matters worse, my darling star isn’t even listening to me!” he says dramatically, flopping backward against the pillows with the back of his hand against his forehead, bright hair shifting ethereally. You watch as some of his curls reach out towards you like creeping plant’s tendrils and reach up to let them tangle around your fingers idly as you sigh; he’s pouting, bottom lip pushed out petulantly like a child. “I am listening, Magnus,” you say, he huffs, peering at you through his barely-open eye, still posing. “If I kiss you,” you say quickly before he can open his mouth again, “will you finally let me sleep?” you ask, lowering your hand as his hair relinquishes its delicate grip on your fingers. He’s silent for a moment and you yawn, he rolls onto his side to look at you properly, eye alight with swirling emerald green and gold, “that may be your best bet,” he says finally, lifting up the covers so you can wriggle in close enough to bump your nose against his. You close your eyes and kiss him as he tucks the covers around you, he smells like spices and musk and something that tingles your nose and sends shivers up your spine.

Guilliman: Roboute is face down against his desk when you enter, you clear your throat, he jolts upright, eyes wide and a paper sticking to his chin, he stares at you, unseeing. “Hi,” you say softly, giving him a little wave. He shakes his head, paper fluttering to the floor, “uh,” he says intelligently, and then “good morning, darling,”, which is a little odd, seeing as the sun is beginning to duck behind the horizon and bathing the room in vibrant orange light. You say as much and he whips his head around to stare at the setting sun. His shoulders drop as he turns back to you with an exhausted sigh, planting his head in his hands, “I don’t think I want to know how many meals I’ve missed,” he mutters as you pat his thigh comfortingly. He looks at you and leans back, offering his arm as a solid climbing piece for you to clamber into his lap. “Poor thing,” you say sympathetically, cupping his cheeks, stubble rough and spiky under your palms. He chuckles and tilts his chin up, pressing a kiss to your lips with a loving smile. His stubble scratches your chin and he sighs into your mouth - right as his stomach lets out a loud rumble. 

[remushrts]

hihi I love your fics n this is my first time requesting :]

may I request a Barty Crouch jr x romantic!amab!reader fluff fic?

Something, something along the lines of the slytherin skittles (or just reader and barty, your call) up on the astronomy tower after curfew (snuck out n’ stuff), and then reader fell asleep on Barty while they were pointing out all the constellations they could see?

thank you so much if you write this, and absolutely no pressure at all if you don’t want to! <3

Stargazing

— pairing: barty crouch jr x amab!reader

— a/n: hii, thank you so much for requesting, i hope you enjoy it, i tried my best!! it's also my first time writing for amab!reader, so let me know if it's okay <3 barty might be a little ooc for what it's used to but i love the idea of a soft barty only with his partner (feel totally free to request again if you want him more chaotic, i'll gladly write that!!)

— warnings: mostly fluff, mention of smoking pot (barty is a little high, reader is open to interpretation)

For the first time in years, maybe, Barty doesn't feel like talking.

Not that he would need to anyway, the silence that lingered between you was comfortable enough to allow that, but still, he never felt so at peace.

He thinks it's about you. It's your presence, the way your hair tickles the skin of his neck where your head lays, gentle weight settling on his chest. When he commented that with Regulus, he said Barty should get a weighted blanket. He thinks you beat it by at least hundred times. Weighted blankets wouldn't do half of what you do to him. He wouldn't want to be anywhere else in the world right now.

To be fair, you wouldn't either. Not even with the smell around you, weed and smoke and the stolen candies from the kitchen that lay unfinished next to you. Not when you have Barty's heartbeat just above your ear, his voice just loud enough to rumble across your chest when he speaks. You have no idea what he's saying anymore, but it's just so nice to hear him talk.

"This meteor shower is supposed to be rare. You, baby, are supposed to watch." His voice is full of taunt, the smug on his face when he catches your eyes sneaking to him.

"Yeah, Crouch?" You smile back at him, snuggling closer to him as if there was a way to get closer.

"Uhm, can look at me anytime, baby." His hand tugs at your chin, grin wide as he gently pushes it upwards, to the sky. It's beautiful tonight, clear vision from the shooting stars that light up the sky for brief moments before they disappear. "We should make it ours." A beat of silence has passed and you think you've lost something. He makes no sense.

"The stars?" You ask, smile slipping to your lips with no resistance.

"All of it. Each wish from those, they're all ours now. The planets too. All ours..." He points out, following an imaginary trace from the meteor that fell just a moment ago. You blinked, looked over at Barty again, and it's gone.

"I thought you didn't believe this crap?" You say, voice no softer than a whisper, but Barty catches the tease.

"Oh, baby, don't offend me." He lets out a breathy laugh, flicking the side of your head, but not letting you move it either. "I'm taking all the wishes I can for you, angel." The pet names drips from his lips, he has a tendency of saying them a lot when he gets high. You're always "baby", always "angel", always "pretty boy". There's a lack of something on his tone, his arrogance or taunting, but you're buying it. It's strange seeing him so soft, but you adore it, every moment.

You nod against his chest, his rambling and the raspy tone pushing you towards a state you've been trying to avoid, sleep claiming your body in a slow but sure pace. You think Barty can feel it either.

"Thanks, B..." You mumble, getting more comfortable on his chest.

"Anything for my boy." He says, no edge of intention to his words, his hand slipping around you waist to hold you close. His fingers trace your hip bone, softly.

His boy, his words echo on your chest, soft, soft. You could be that, if he kept saying it with that voice. Especially his. You're convinced he got you folded in half with that tone alone. He kisses the corner of your lips, thumb holding your chin in place. He begins to talk about the constellations again, not a single coherent idea to the textbooks you've learned, but just as poetical. You're pretty sure you hear he names a star after you before you fall asleep.

[couldawouldashoulda50]

The Homecoming - Round 1

Overview - William arrives home after the longest road-trip of the 2023/24 season; you both can hardly wait to reconnect.  

Pairing: William Nylander x f!reader.  (Note- the reader is a globally famous musician/singer/songwriter)

Word Count: 4k+

Warnings: 18+ only; pregnancy; smut (oral m & f receiving, intercourse; slight masturbation references); fluff; swearing. Be kind, this is my very first time writing/posting...I may not know what the hell I'm doing...just hope it all makes sense.

A/N - this is part of a William Nylander x reader series that I am working on currently.  The following story is based on the present, whereas the WIP series spans the timeframe from when William and the reader meet up to the present day.  I’m sorry; I know this might be like reading the ending first, but it’s literally my very first fic post…there was something with this storyline that just flowed so easily.  I’ve been anxious to just get it out in the universe so I can get it out of my head...I need to be able concentrate on my actual day job again.

*********************************************************************

You lay in bed, sound asleep; two dogs flank your body, both resting peacefully.

Pablo’s head raises suddenly, followed by Banksy.  Each of the dogs leap off of the plush king bed and bolt out of the bedroom as fast as their legs will take them.  

You awaken with the sound of William’s voice as he comes through the door at the front entrance of your home, greeting both dogs with loads of love and affection.

“How are my boys?  How are you?  Were you good for Mama while I was away?  Eh?  Ooooooh…I missed you guys.  I missed your Mama too” William said, half whispering.

Normally you would get up with the dogs and watch the two wriggle and jump up to greet him at the door, smothering him in dog kisses.  You would patiently wait your turn and essentially do the same as Pablo and Banksy; you kiss him gently, wrap yourself around him, whispering to him how much you missed him, and how happy you are that he's home.  He in turn, would murmur a few things against the sensitive skin behind your ear, mostly naughty things that he’s been wanting to do to you.

But now, being 6 months pregnant, and between the aches in your back and hips and your ever growing tummy, William knew how much harder it’s been for you to get comfortable, especially in bed.  He lovingly told you the night before when you spoke that you were to stay put when he arrives home - and no staying awake waiting for him either, he said.

William walks into the overly spacious bedroom with Pablo and Banksy trotting behind him and drops his bags on the couch by the fireplace.  As he unbuttons his white dress shirt, he looks over at you and smiles.  It always catches you…William has smiled at you a million times over and still, each and every time, your heart expands with absolute adoration for him.  “Hi, my love” you say, longingly.

He walks towards the bed, tilting his head to the side to look at your face in the dim light.

“How are you feeling?  I forgot to ask you - did this thing help you sleep at all?” William nods his head toward the large body pillow that he brought home for you before he left on his trip. 

You break out into a grin.  Lately, your hormones have kicked into high gear, with vivid sex images with William being the only thing on your mind.  So while the pillow gave you the comfort and support you needed, the firm plush piece that was nestled between your thighs only exasperated your unruly libido.  “Hmmm, well…it helped once I actually fell asleep” you said, gliding your hand over the fabric, “but….it’s this thick piece between my legs…all it made me think of is the thick thing between your legs.  I feel like a dog in heat…so that part’s been fucking torture.”  

William laughs as he continues to undress. He throws his shirt and the rest of his clothing on the upholstered bench at the foot of the bed, leaving his shorts on.  You immediately stare at his package and bite your lip, unintentionally releasing a tiny moan.

“I mean it…I’m not  kidding.  It’s all I can think about…and William, I’m telling you….the thoughts I have about you are just fucking filthy”.  

You pressed your thighs together against said pillow to try to get some relief from the pressure that’s heightening around your core.  You really weren’t exaggerating; your hormones are raging and you swear you could fuck him into next week and it still wouldn’t be enough. 

“Seriously, you have to help me…it’s required as part of your husband/pre-DILF duties”.

“Didn’t you…you know…take care of ‘business’ yourself at all while I was gone?” a wry smirk appeared on his lips.  “You could have mentioned what was going on with you when we Facetimed…I could have…y’know - walked you through what I would have done if I was here…” William said coyly.

“Mmmmm…I thought about it - I thought maybe showing you how badly I needed you while you watched me...taking care of business.. that I would get some relief that way” you said, your voice soft with a hint of seduction.

“But I knew the minute I got going, no matter what I used - fingers, toys…whatever - the only thing that would completely satisfy me is a nice hard dick.  And not like my Willy’s cock clone that I have to break out when you’re away - I literally only want your dick inside me.  God damn, it’s so fucking good…” you smile up at him, gripping the pillow a little harder now.  Even just talking about his cock is turning you on.

“So, yeah…”, your eyes trail back down to his shorts, as you nod to his unwrapped gift “there’s that.”  You pause; there’s not many things you feel uncomfortable telling William but you’re not quite certain how he’ll react with your next confession. “There’s something else too.  Your joy juice - that’s the other thing I’m craving…fuck, I can’t stop thinking about it.  On my face, in my mouth….fed to me….”, you blush and giggle a little with your admissions, but you have no filter now as your desire for him was reaching a fever pitch. “This pregnancy has turned me from a respected musician to William Nylander’s personal cum slut”, you said dryly,

William’s mouth drops open a little but a wry smile begins to form on his lips.  “Oh really, eh?  You’re my personal cum slut?” he laughs.  “Well then…what wifey wants, wifey shall get”.

You watch each movement of his muscular body as he crawls up onto the bed, slides under the sheets and duvet, and shifts his body towards you.  He lay on his side, his gorgeous face close enough to yours that you can feel his breath.  

“Seriously….I missed you so much, William.  It felt like you were gone forever.  You looked amazing during the games though…as usual”, you said, bringing your hand up to trace his jawline.  You think to yourself, ‘God - you are so gone for this man’.    

“I missed you too - it was a long fucking trip....all I wanted was you like this, all... day... long,” William smiles and leans in, kissing you gently; his arms circle around you, supporting your body as he pushes the giant pillow out of the way and engulfs you in his embrace.  He slides his hand down onto your baby bump, hoping to feel a kick from your unborn son.  You scan his face as he does the same to yours; you gently graze his lips, wanting to breathe him in more. It’s not long before there’s a flurry of activity from your tummy, as though the baby wants to show off some tricks for his Dad.  

With you in his arms and feeling his baby kick, William’s turquoise eyes are fixed on yours; he smiles widely at the fluttery feeling from the baby’s movements…he finds himself completely mesmerized by you.  

He leans in for a deeper kiss.  Your hand snakes along his jawline into his thick mane of blonde hair, pulling his mouth to yours.  That initial taste of his tongue against yours evokes a long, breathy moan from your mouth.  Your hunger for him now borders on animalistic.  You’re afraid that your need for him is wound so tightly that once he touches your engorged pussy, he might actually send you into orbit.

Every touch on each other’s body elicits extended drawn out moans that are untamed, as your mouths feast on each other’s taste.  

William’s hand slowly slides along the underside of your round stomach, and in no time, his hand dips under the band of your cotton panties.  You’ve told him of your desperation already, but when his middle finger reaches the top of your slit, he moans as slides his thick digit into your wet folds.  He watches you as you close your eyes and grip his shoulders at the mere grazing of your clit.  Your breathing has already become erratic and he has barely even begun working you over.  

“Fuck - please…William…..I need you inside of me…please…” you whisper close to his ear.

“I know - soon, min Ӓlskling…here, come up here, I want to see all of you…I’ve missed touching your body”.  William gently removes his fingers from underneath your panties.  

William kicks back the sheets and props himself up on his one forearm.  You sit up on your knees and William helps you slide your panties off.  His eyes darken as he glimpses at your exposed pussy; the sheen of wetness that he spread with his finger apparent.  

The road trip was long and despite his focus on the ice - which led to a number of stellar performances from him - when he could allow his thoughts to wander, he only thought about you.  Although he knows you desperately need a release, he wants to savour every moment of this homecoming too.  He planned to take his time with you, he just didn’t expect you to be wound so tightly with your pent up yearning for him.

His hands reached out to caress your pregnant belly again; William is completely infatuated with the way you look.  Prior to getting pregnant, your breasts were already one of his favourite features on you but in the past month, they have become even more full and voluptuous.  His hands move up from your stomach and they cup each breast.  You look down at his shorts which are fully tented now and you can hardly wait to wrap your hand, your mouth, your core,  in whatever order, around his thick member.  

William raises himself up and begins to kiss your neck, slowly and sensually.  His mouth feels so agonizingly good; you whisper how in love you are with him as you run your fingers through his hair.  William begins kissing your soft, round breast and with his tongue pointed, he slowly begins to lick your tightened nipple in a circular motion.  The intense sensation of his wet tongue and hot breath connecting with your nipple immediately rocks you; your body is so highly sensitive to his touch, everything he does sends a shockwave down to your core.  You can’t help but to grab the back of his head with your one hand, fisting his hair in order to keep his mouth latched to your nipple.  Seeing your reaction as he continues to lick and suck on one of your tits, he begins to manipulate your other nipple with the fingers of his left hand.  

His other hand begins to travel down from your stomach to your pussy, now drenched in your juices.  His middle finger toys with your clitoris, and he feels your grip tightening in his hair.  He inserts his middle finger deep into your core, and as he gyrates his hand, you cry out to him, grabbing his wrist as your hips begin to writhe around on his hand.  He begins to alternate between finger-fucking you and spreading your wetness around your highly sensitive bud.

William withdraws both his mouth from your nipple and his finger from your folds.  You whimper at their departure but the sound is muffled by his mouth as he kisses you slowly.  You lessen your grip on his hair as your mouths and tongues lightly graze each other.  Exhaling deeply and biting your lip yet again, you lean your forehead against his, trying to stabilize your breathing.  

With your fingers splayed wide, you run both your hands down his chest.  You don’t know how you’ve gotten to be so fortunate to be able to touch this man so intimately.  

“Climb on top of me, Y/N…on top of my face” William said in a voice low and gravelly, as he lay on his back.  “I wanna make you cum so hard for me”   

William knows in once sense that he might be tormenting you a little with not just fucking you into the mattress like he knows you want.  It might seem selfish, but he’s been needing you as much as you’ve needed him lately, and he’s looking to draw this out for a little longer to savour every bit of you. 

William helps you straddle him.  Having your legs opened up, allowing your pussy to connect with William’s muscular torso gives way to the urge to rub and grind your dripping cunt against him.  William’s eyes are transfixed on your movements; he’s completely engrossed watching you rock back and forth, while you cradle the underside of your belly for support.   You look ethereal, angelic even as your long hair sweeps across his forearms.  Your eyes are fluttering shut; waves of desire pulsate through your core.  You lean your head back and your long curls fall between his legs and start grazing his member.  

William’s hands move around your body, his desire for you on full display. 

“Come here…come up here - I need to taste you now, Y/N”.

You lace your fingers with William’s as he helps you move on your knees until your swollen entrance is hovering above his mouth.  The initial contact when his pointed tongue licks the entire length of your wetness has you clutching the headboard.  ‘You’re in trouble now’ you think to yourself.

William expertly swirls his tongue around your aching nub as he steadies your hip movements with his strong grip to the rhythm he has dictated.   He continues to alternate between sucking on your sweet spot and tongue-fucking you, driving you to the edge of insanity with the stimulation.  The vibration of each moan from William adds to the intense pleasure that courses through your body.  You match his moans with shrieks of delight, quivering whimpers, and his name falling from your lips on a continuous loop.  

Suddenly, your head snaps back as your cunt is flushed with heat, and instinctively you clench your inner walls.  You can feel your orgasm building like a tidal wave and you slam both hands against the headboard and grip the fabric for dear life.  

“Will! Will - Willi-um - I’m…fuck!!  Oh my GOD…please!  William!” letting out a sharp cry as your voice strains.

William keeps working his magic between your thighs, his hands still in control of your hip movements. 

You might end up tearing your upholstered headboard at this rate, your knuckles have turned white from your vice-grip like hold.  Your mouth is open but there is no sound, only heavy pants as your hips try to buck wildly against William’s restraint.  

Then your orgasm hits, crashing into you like a tidal wave making you cry out for William.  You grab a hold of the pillow that William’s head is resting on; your breath is shaking as your body slows its writhing, twitching with your final release.

You lift yourself up so you could scooch down a little further back onto his torso; up until now, your pregnant belly obstructed your view of William’s face while he worked you into delirium.   

“Oh my God….William….” you said as you looked down at him.  You smooth his tousled hair from his face and using the side of your thumb, you start to gently swipe your lady juice from around his mouth and his dense five o’clock shadow.

His eyes are locked on yours and as he sits up, he pulls you in for a sloppy kiss.  “See how fucking good you taste?” he said, smirking.

“You are fucking incredible…absolutely amazing, my husband…” you said breathlessly, lips still connected with his. 

You remain straddling William and you reach behind to gently touch his fully erect cock.  You feign surprise as though you had opened up the best present of your life, letting out a gasp followed by a moan.  Your gaze returns to William’s face and in a voice thick with desire, you simply say “Mmmm…my turn…”

You are desperate to quench the insatiable urge to taste his cum.  You slide off William’s lap and he lets himself fall back onto the mattress.  You start by kissing and running your tongue down his flesh towards his cock.  When you reach his treasure trail, you take your time stroking his path with your tongue.  You work your way down until his flawless member is directly in front of you; his above average length and supreme girth makes your mouth salivate and pussy throb simultaneously.   The head of his dick is coated with pearlized liquid and you waste no time by running your tongue along his tip, dipping your tongue into the hollow spot at the top repeatedly which encourages more precum to leak from the smooth head.  

Grunts and groans, followed by your name fall from William’s mouth as you accept the full length of his firm cock toward the back of your throat.  Your senses are going wild; the feel of his dick in your mouth, the faint smell of his body wash and cologne, the salty-sweet taste of his seeping arousal.  You try to shift your body to find a more comfortable angle as you continue to suck and deep-throat his member.  You love giving him head, but the discomfort from leaning over with a baby growing inside of you is creating a lot of pressure around your abdomen and back.

“William - I’m so sorry…I don’t think I can lean over like this…the baby…”

William sits up, a slight look of concern on his face.  “Are you ok?? Do you want to stop?”

“NO!!  God - no…I just need to find a better position” you said, rubbing your belly.  

William leans over the side of the bed reaching for the large pregnancy pillow he bought you.  You watch this dream of a man shift the other pillows that have been strewn around on the bed to make room.  He’s kneeling as he guides you towards the pillow, his leg muscles showing every contour and his magnificent cock juts out, still rigid from what you were doing to him with your mouth moments ago.

“Let me hear how much you missed my cock fucking you,” William growled as he kissed your mouth.

You crawl over to the pillow, your round ass up in the air, on display for William.  You look back at him, flip your hair to the side and smile sweetly as he stares at you, his mouth slightly agape.

You manipulate the pillow so it supports your entire midriff comfortably.  Conveniently, it also allows you to arch your back a little more; it’s a clear invitation to William that you want whatever he’s offering from behind.  His dick starts to twitch - William knows exactly what you want from him in this position.

Your pussy is already wet, but William’s cock is substantial and needs extra lubrication before he enters you.  His fingers deftly caress your clitoris and as you moan his name, and it’s not long before he knows you’re primed and ready for him.  He gives you a kiss on one of your ass cheeks and then gives you a little spank.  He lines the tip of his dick up to your swollen folds, running it through the wetness that has pooled at your centre.  He begins to push his dick into your entrance slowly; his strong grip on your hips helping him slide in.  

You moan loudly as his cock stretches your walls; the initial pain quickly gives way to pleasure as your eyes roll into the back of your head.  William buries his cock deep into your core and when he’s fully inside of you, he holds you in position for a moment.  You clench around his cock and you give into the urge to rotate your hips just to feel his dick move inside of you.  

You glance at William over your shoulder as your pent up desire gives way to full desperation for him to fuck you hard.  William’s gaze meets yours; a crooked smile starts to form on his face.

William begins with slow movements - he is torturing you in the best possible way right now.  He knows the build-up will be more satisfying for you in the long run rather than just pounding your pussy mercilessly straight out of the gate.  

“William…oh my god” you whisper breathlessly.  “Please….you feel so fucking good…please, I need you to fuck me…” you beg.

You try to satiate your need for him to rail you by rotating and bucking your hips as he presses his cock deeper each time he enters you.

You hear a faint chuckle from William followed by a low moan as he increases his speed.  

Your face falls and is now buried in the pillow and your words are muffled as he begins his firm and rhythmic thrusts.  

“Oh my God William….oh my god…fucking….please….fuck me…” you wail.  As he moves in and out of your cunt, he can feel the hard grip of your walls around his shaft    

“Fuuuuck me…you are so fucking tight Y/N…” William grits his teeth as he continues to bury his cock inside of you, thrusts becoming more rapid; the erotic sounds of grunts and moans from both of you collide with the sound of skin slapping against skin.  

You clutch the sheets as he continues to ride you hard.  He grabs the meatier flesh at the top of your ass and continues to pound you, your moans sound more like a siren now…continuous cries reverberate off the walls.  

He gathers your hair into his one hand as his other hand moves up and grips your shoulder, allowing him to penetrate you deeper.  You feel like you’re descending into insanity, your mind is overwhelmed by pure ecstasy and all you can do is succumb to your body’s state of bliss.  

William looks down at you as his fast and powerful thrusts are making your legs start to quiver.  He watches as your toned muscles in your arms and back constrict, covered in a light sheen of sweat as he fulfils all of your desires.  William growls as he reaches the height of his arousal; his hips move erratically and his fingertips indent your flesh ever further.  He looks down and sees your own arousal decorating his cock with opaque streaks as it pools around his base.  He grunts at the sight of your slickness and is so close to relief but he wants to make sure you cum first.

“I’m so close, baby - fuck….fuck….you feel so fucking good” William groans.  

Your cheeks are blazing hot as your orgasm takes hold of your body.  It’s a feeling so intense that your body feels like it’s short-circuiting.  “I’m right there - right there….oh my God William!” you shriek, grappling with the mattress from the sheer force of your release.  Your thighs try to close together and you buck wildly as your pussy clenches William’s cock so hard that you push him right out of you.  William quickly grabs his dick and with a few firm pumps, he unleashes his load onto your ass.

“Holy shit Y/N….” William said after a few seconds, trying to catch his breath.

You lie there, body still trembling as the aftershock of such a forceful orgasm travels through your body.  You remain in the same position with William still behind you.  You shift your head so your forehead is resting on the pillow as your breathing begins to slow.   

“Y/N?” William’s voice is soft and low.

“Mmmm-hmm” is all you can muster.  He senses you smiling into the pillow.

“You still have that craving?  You know…my - what’d you call it….joy juice?

Drawing out the same sound, you respond “Mmmmmmmm-hmmmmmmmm” while giving your ass a little wiggle. 

You hear William chuckle slightly as he runs two fingers through the streams of his cum on your skin.  You manage to find the strength to push yourself back up onto your hands, flipping your matted curls to the side as seductively as possible.  He stares at your mouth as you accept his coated middle and ring fingers, your tongue swirling around his digits, making sure you’ve licked every single drop of his cum from his fingers.  You hold onto his hand, placing open-mouthed kisses on his palm and then place it on your still hot cheek.  He responds by placing gentle kisses along your shoulder-blade and murmurs how much he loves you.

Gingerly, you both begin to move; he comes along to your side and helps guide your body back in between the arms of the pregnancy pillow.  He peppers you with kisses and you lazily run your fingers through his hair, unable to stop smiling.  He manages to squeeze in right next to you and as he pulls you into his chest, you exhale deeply.  This is your favourite spot in the whole world; wrapped in William’s arms, your face against his broad and beautiful chest.

“You feel better now - you got what you wanted?” William quietly asks, chuckling into your hair.

“I think I’m still cumming, if that’s even possible…so fucking good”, you mumble into his chest.

After a few minutes, William kisses the top of your head and starts to get up out of bed.  

“I’ll be back in a second…do you need anything?”

You moan and exaggerate a pout followed by a smile….never wanting to leave the warmth and comfort of his embrace.  You smile and shake your head ‘no’ while sliding towards the edge of the bed, holding your belly and trying to look somewhat graceful.  William offers both of his hands to help stand you up.  You grab William’s white dress shirt from the end of the bed and put it on; his natural smell mixed with his cologne almost makes you weak in the knees.

William pulls you back into him, his hands roaming under his dress shirt as he presses his lips against yours.  “You have to let me take a picture of you in this…you have no idea how fucking gorgeous you look right now”.

You smile against his lips.  “You can do whatever you want with me when you come back to bed”.  Your hands slowly descend to his ass; you gently rub yourself against his member, now cloaked under his shorts.

William groans against your lips and apprehensively breaks from your embrace.  He summons for the dogs to come.

“I’m taking the dogs out so we can sleep in a bit tomorrow.  Get ready for Round 2” he purrs.

You watch him walk away with the dogs in tow; the view of his muscular stature and his tight round ass as he exits your bedroom has you clenching your thighs, needing him all over again.