#Heat Plate For Bond

[almostempty]

Never made it as a wise man

(joel miller x f!reader)

Description: Joel solves your car troubles for free, and you try to return the favor with a homecooked meal. When you accidentally interrupt his jerkoff session, you take a chance and help him out.

Note: y’all are out here answering god’s toughest questions, like what if emotionally unavailable Joel was loved unconditionally? or what if Joel was the Mothman?, and I deeply appreciate that. 

However, today, I am here to answer a question that nobody asked– What if Joel was a divorced dad rock kinda guy? 

You know, like, listening to Nickelback on an old-school boombox in his garage, or unironically singing Creed on the way to work, or bonding with Ellie over Papa Roach? And also, (inspired by a genius) what if he was a little bit pathetic? 

Anyway, I present to you: divorced dad rock dilf, Joel, ta-da! (my humble submission for @hellishjoel‘s hot dilf summer challenge) obvs dedicated to: @auteurdelabre

ao3: read here | masterlist: here | part 1.5 here

Tags/warnings: AU no outbreak divorced Joel x f!reader, Sarah is not mentioned, but Ellie is your adult coworker, reader is clueless about cars and so am I, gratuitous smut and horny thoughts, implied jorkin’ joel but no witnesses, hand job, fingering, premature ejaculation, touch starved kinda loserish but hot divorced dilf joel, he’s a real tiddy guy in this one and idk why it just happened, pwp, is it a crackfic? maybe, but i meant it wholeheartedly so idk�� 

WC: 4.2k

You pull onto the long driveway, hoping to see Joel’s truck. You forgot to text first to see if he would be around, but he did tell you to come by if you ever needed anything. You mostly just hope he’ll be willing to accept your gift. 

Last week, he’d helped you out by fixing your car. He told you what the issue was, but he might as well have been speaking another language when he described it. You had already brought coffee and a plate of cookies to your coworker Ellie to thank her for dragging you to Joel’s to ask for help. Being in a new town was hard enough, but you had no idea how you would handle the price for diagnostics, let alone whatever the repair would’ve cost. You tried to offer Joel the cash you had as a thanks, but he wouldn’t accept it. You tried to argue with him, but Ellie told you it wasn’t worth arguing with him. He wouldn’t budge. Instead, he had offered to change your oil for you, making you feel even more indebted to him. 

At first, the most you got out of Ellie for intel on Joel was that he was the one responsible for you having to listen to “One Last Breath” and “Lips of an Angel” at ungodly early hours. Ellie claimed that her music taste was deeply influenced by Joel, and somehow, Ellie is always in charge of the music at work. When you rolled your eyes calling it divorced dad rock, she let it slip that you were right about that. 

That explains a lot when you remember the brief time you spent in his house and shop. The house was clean inside but not tidy. Stray beer bottles and travel mugs dotted the counter and coffee table. But the shop had all the Divorced Dad Barbie accessories. 

The project car and crates of assorted parts. The beer fridge and the plastic lawn chairs in the corner for bullshitting with whoever stopped by. The boombox on the workbench with the stack of CDs. And the fading calendar from another decade with the naked woman kneeling on the beach. 

You hadn’t been able to stop your eyes from darting to her sultry expression and swimsuit model-perfect breasts when Joel had been explaining what he was going to do to your car. You wondered if the heat burning in your cheeks had given you away, but he didn’t notice then. Ellie sure did, though, and she had rolled her eyes at you, noting it had been up so long she even forgot it was there. 

Luckily, Ellie didn’t notice your eyes lingering on Joel’s body. You weren’t trying to be a creep, but the way his arm flexed when he opened the hood of your car gave you some feral brand of intrusive thoughts. The ratty band t-shirt and the faded jeans were working for him, too, or at least they were doing something for you. Time slowed when your eyes trailed over his arms and down the muscles of his broad back. He just seemed so… solid. You finally understood what your friends back home meant when they said they wanted to climb a man like a tree. You had jumped a little when Ellie slammed the fridge behind you and shouted at Joel about how he can’t just live in the shop drinking shitty beer and eating beef jerky. She had grabbed your arm to drag you to the house for an iced tea while he worked. 

Her comment sparked your idea. You figured Joel must be a utilitarian type. He probably lives on frozen pizzas–or even worse, those Hungry-Man frozen TV dinners–instead of making himself something fresh. Maybe he’s one of those guys who got really into smoking meats instead. Either way, you hope the lasagna you made from scratch and the other tray of cookies will be an acceptable thank you for his help. He can’t refuse it if you already made it, right? 

You pull up next to a truck, assuming it’s his, and that he’s home. Before you grab the tray, you pause to check your reflection and adjust your breasts in your white tank top, making sure your cleavage pokes out as temptingly as possible. 

You check yourself in the mirror with a look. Why does it matter what you look like? It’s not like you’re trying to fuck your only (almost) friend’s dad, right? Although she calls him by his first name, not Dad, so maybe there’s like a loophole or something if she’s adopted. You think about the calendar model and her perfect tits hanging on the wall over his tools. It can’t hurt to just do a little harmless flirting, right? Maybe you aren’t even his type anyway. 

After knocking on the door a couple of times, you frown, wondering if he’s not home. On the way back to your car, with your head hung in defeat, your ears perk up at the sound of something clanging in the shop. Of course! 

You skitter back to the front porch to leave your goods by the door and head for the shop to find that divorced DILF–Joel, you mean. It’s sweltering out, and sweat is beading on your chest after only a few minutes in the heat. The closer you get, the more easily you can make out the sound of his little CD player blasting another brooding, raspy ballad sung by a white man with a troubled love life. 

The garage door is shut, so you knock on the door on the side of the building. You wait a minute before testing your luck and opening the door yourself. Assessing the shop, you don’t see your man, sorry, Joel, at first glance. The music blasts, and the calendar model gives you the same impish smirk through her false lashes and a layer of dust, but there’s no Joel. The evidence clearly dictates that he’s in here somewhere, as his tools are strung around his project, the lights are on, and a beer with a sweating label sits on the edge of the workbench. 

You aren’t trying to be sneaky. You didn’t think to holler and announce your presence over the music. Plus, you didn’t fully get your bearings the last time you were here. Now, you can pick up a few more details as your eyes absorb everything they can about anything that gives you a hint about who this guy is. 

The guy that’s been haunting your dreams for a week. Last week, when you walked back to the shop with Ellie to check on your car, you nearly tripped, watching Joel wipe the sweat off his face with the bottom of his shirt. You had just caught a glimpse of the trail of hair disappearing under his jeans, but it was enough to replay in your mind every night as you created your little scenarios to carry you off to sleep. 

The scent memory was somehow worse. It was so easy to transport yourself back in time with the thought of the sweaty musk and the grease or oil smeared on his fingers. It shouldn’t turn you on, right? 

You remember thinking he seemed so knowledgeable when describing the issue. You had no idea what he was talking about, but his low voice and patience were enough to tell you he could talk you through anything. 

You notice a few other details as you enter his sacred space today. The woodworking projects, the band posters, and the pictures with Ellie and other family members tacked to the wall over another workbench. 

Still, no Joel, however. 

You circle the partially disassembled project truck and see a door to another room. It would be the office if the shop were a professional business. There’s a window along the wall, but instead of a boss watching an employee, it’s you hoping to see that brawny man and his dark curls. 

As you step closer, you nearly squeal. There he is. Well, at least, you can see the broad shoulders and back you’ve been picturing above you in bed. You practically skip to the door. It’s already open a crack, and you give it a knock, calling his name as it swings open from the force of your rapping knuckles.   

The next moment is a blur. 

“Shit, fuck, hold on!” Joel shouts gruffly as he slams the door in your face. But you already heard it. The phony wailing noises that came from the busted speaker on his phone. 

You still face the closed door, trying to process the interaction before he wrenches the door back open. He’s breathing rapidly, chest rising and falling, as he looks at you with wide eyes that quickly narrow. 

“What are you doing here?” he barks. 

Your hands fall to your sides, and you start to step back, ready to turn and run. 

He catches your fear and tries to adjust, but you’re faster. 

“Sorry,” you mumble as you turn and try to dash away. Joel’s quick, too, though, and he grabs your wrist. 

“Hey, wait,” he loosens his grip when you spin back towards him, “I just didn’t hear you comin’. Wasn’t expecting you.” 

“Sorry,” you repeat, stuttering as you continue, “I-I just, uh, just wanted to say thanks for your help last week.” You stare at the floor. Unsure why you’re embarrassed, you feel so small after he saw your face and practically shouted at you. 

“All right,” he rumbles. You’re too busy staring at the crack in the concrete floor to notice how his eyes are glued to your exposed skin. Or to see the blotchy red flush that crawls up his neck and toward his face. 

But your brain starts to catch up. Joel might’ve snapped at you, but you’re the one that caught him in the act. You don’t lift your head, but your eyes trail over his stained and faded jeans until you’re studying his crotch. 

Bingo. It’s almost too easy. You can make out the outline of his erection tucked up in his waistband. Even more glaring evidence is the open fly. You wish you had caught what he was watching. How does he like it? What does he search for when he wants to jerk off in the back office on a hot Saturday afternoon? 

He clears his throat, and you snap your attention to his face. “Was there somethin’ you needed?” He asks. 

“Yes.” You tell him you’ve got a lasagna that should get into a fridge before it reheats in the sun. He follows you toward the front door and into the house, not missing how your hips sway as you lead. 

Once the tray is shoved into the fridge, nestled between some takeout containers, he turns to thank you. “You didn’t need to do all that,” he gruffs over the cookies and homemade meal. 

You step back to lean against the counter, littered with mail and more coffee cups, and let yourself check him out up close. His faded Creed t-shirt has holes around the neck. He’s got that same sweaty man musk going on, and you wish you knew why that stirred your arousal, but your pussy lacks logic. 

“I know, I know,” you reply, “but you really saved my ass with the car, and I wanted to do something for you. You know, some way to pay you back?” 

“All right, well, thanks,” he trails off. He doesn’t seem to know what else to say. Maybe you should be on your way already, but he’s not ushering you out the door. 

This time, you do catch when his eyes drop to your chest. There’s no way you’re imagining the tension between you as you stand in his kitchen while he stares at your barely clothed tits, right? Fuck it. You’re gonna go for it. 

You take a step towards him. “I wasn’t sure if it was really enough,” your voice is soft and tempting, and your sweet perfume wafts towards him like a lust potion. Joel swallows thickly as you approach.

He knows you must’ve put it together, but he tried to delude himself. Maybe you couldn’t hear the theatrical screams of the woman he was watching get railed before he slammed the door in your face. He hopes all you heard was Chad Kroeger’s voice screaming, “This time I'm mistaken

For handin' you a heart worth breakin'” from the stereo.. on the other side of the shop. 

“You worked so hard,” you continued with one final step, and now you’re nearly toe-to-toe in front of him. “There has to be something else I could do.” You’re so close to him. He forgets to respond. It takes all his power to keep his eyes on your face. 

You have a wild urge to taste the sweat on his neck, but you keep your tongue to yourself. He hasn’t made any move to encourage you, but he hasn’t stopped you yet either, so you figure it’s worth taking a risk. 

“Maybe you’ve got a problem I could help you with.” You go for it, reaching your hand out to palm at the bulge in his jeans. 

Again, too many things happen at once. Joel snaps out a “What?” in disbelief. His hand circles your wrist tightly. His hips jerk, involuntarily bucking into your palm. Your glossy lips part into an “o” shape at the size of his not-quite-hard cock. And now you’re both locked into this position like statues. 

His fingers stay firmly wrapped around your wrist, but he doesn’t pull you away. Your fingers squeeze over his jeans, and your eyes flash wide as you can feel his cock twitch and stiffen at your touch. The touch that rapidly overrides your better judgment, drowning you in want. Your clit twitches itself in response, your nipples strain under your thin tank top, and your eyelids feel heavy immediately. 

“What are you doing?” His voice crackles like he hadn’t just used it. You slide your hand to pop the button on his jeans, and he releases your wrist as you flip it to slip your fingers under the waistband of his boxers in search of his cock. 

“Let me help,” you say in more of a whispered tone. The searing heat between Joel’s legs makes you salivate. Your fingers graze coarse curls before you acquire your target, wrapping your palm and fingers around his thick shaft. His size has your cunt throbbing in your shorts. 

Joel’s eyes are squeezed shut. He looks nearly in pain. You pull your hand back out to let the pool of saliva on your tongue drip into your palm. 

“Jesus,” he breathes out, watching your lewd maneuver. “You wanna help?” He repeats your plea in the form of a question, a little dumbfounded. He’s trying to figure out what’s happening right now. 

“I do,” you answer in a honeyed voice as you dig your hand back into his pants. He’s unable to respond with words as you swirl your palm over the head of his cock, mixing saliva and precome, but his body eggs you on. He bucks into your fist, and you work quickly, pumping his throbbing length. The slick noises are muffled by the layers of clothing, but the grunts that catch in his throat shoot piping-hot desire straight into your core. 

He looks a little desperate, eyes slammed shut again, jaw slack, arms hanging uselessly at his side. And for god knows why, the entire scene pulls a moan from your lips. The sweet sound snaps Joel back to attention. His hands shoot straight to your breasts, cupping them gently to feel them bounce against the motion of your arm wrestling with his jeans to keep stroking his cock. 

They’re so close to spilling over your tank top on their own. Joel can’t resist tugging the thin material until they spill over the top. The sight alone nearly has him coming in his pants. But then you moan so loudly when he squeezes them both and pinches at your nipples, and he really can’t stop. 

“Fuck, fuck, wait,” he spits out, but it’s too late. His hips jerk erratically, thrusting into your slick fist, and he’s coming. It coats your hand and wrist and makes an absolute mess.  You relax your grip when his whole body seems to shudder and gently remove your hand. He tries to choke his groan of frustration before it surfaces, but he immediately pauses his shame spiral when he sees you suck your come-coated fingers one by one. 

“God, that’s so fucking hot,” you tell him. At the same time, he’s muttering curses at the sight of you. You’re feeling a little giddy that all it took was your hand and showing your tits to have Joel losing control and spilling his load for you. It has your mouth curling into an impish grin. 

He’s got the sight of you half topless in his kitchen, licking your fingers, looking awfully proud of yourself, etching into his memory. Before the blood can return to his brain, he grabs you tightly by the ribs and walks you backward towards the counter. He lifts you onto it and wrenches open your shorts, yanking at them as you lift your hips so he can slide them off of you and drop them onto the kitchen floor. 

Yes! Yes! Yes! The horny little goblins in your brain shriek and chant, incited by the rough and impulsive way Joel gropes at you. It’s barbaric, and that delights you. 

Sitting on the counter, you give him such perfect access to put his mouth on your breasts that he forgets what he was going to say. He mouths at each of them wetly, his beard tickling you as he’s busy sucking marks into your delicate skin. He sucks and bites at your strained nipples until your loud whines turn into a sharp gasp, and he pulls back. 

The heavy-lidded look on your face has him diving back in for more, and you groan and arch into his touch. You rake your fingers into the curls at the back of his neck and tug at him. He grunts and moans into your skin, and it drives you wild. You need to feel him closer. 

You grab the worn cotton on his shoulders until he lets you slip the shirt over his head and drop it onto the counter next to you. It gives you the briefest moment to take in the sight of his built chest and shoulders and softer midsection with that trail of hair you had memorized. You need to taste the salt on his skin. 

Spreading your legs wider, he slots his hips against yours at the edge of the counter, and you run your tongue along his neck. You slide one of your hands down the smooth golden skin of his shoulder, and the other nestles back in his messy curls as his mouth finds yours. 

He tastes like cheap coffee and the peppermint nicotine gum parked above his teeth along the left side of his mouth. You know it’s wrong that you can’t get enough. But you're helpless when he pulls your bottom lip between his teeth, and you mindlessly roll your hips, seeking any relief. 

He’s grumbling in your ear about how it seems like you need help now, but you couldn’t care less about the words coming out of his mouth. His deep voice alone could get you off. You let out an uninhibited whine at the thought. 

“Jesus Christ,” he pulls back. His head hangs, staring at the floor. He shakes it in what you assume is disbelief. You don’t want to wait for him to think any further. You grab his hand, pulling it between your legs.

“Really, fucking, hot.” You echo your earlier declaration. Doing your best to sound assertive. You figure at least your soaked panties will prove your point. 

“Fuck,” he stifles a groan. You’re so wet it coats his fingertips through the thin material. He nudges his fingers into you, over your panties, and you whimper for him. The fabric sticks to you and makes an obscene sound as he toys with you for only seconds. “Oh, you do need my help. Hm?” 

You nod, spreading your legs wider for Joel to have access. He scoffs at you, displayed eagerly atop his kitchen counter. “Just desperate for me, aren’t ya?”

You snap your legs back shut with a glare. 

“No way,” you press, jabbing a finger into his chest, “you don’t get to laugh at me like I’m a slut for you when you just came in your pants for me.” 

His nostrils flare, and blotchy red patches creep up his neck again. You aren’t sure what kind of bear you’ve just, quite literally, poked. 

“But you are, aren’t you?” He challenges. “You came all this way in this excuse for a shirt, just for me.” 

He wedges his hand back between your closed thighs, and you relax just enough to let him work his way back to your core. Your breathing gives you away when it hitches and stutters as he traces his fingers along the hem of the fabric between your legs. You let your legs fall a little wider apart, and he sinks a finger beneath the hem and right inside of you to the knuckle. 

A whiny noise rolls in the back of your throat. 

“Shh,” he sinks a second finger inside of you, and your muscles spasm and contract, “that’s better, hmm?” He slowly pulls his fingers almost all the way out and then plunges them back in. He repeats this, and your core tenses as you writhe for him. 

“You need more?” 

“Yes.” 

“Yeah, you do.” He adds a third finger, and the slight stretch makes you hum. 

“You just need to be filled up, hm?” He teases you. Awfully confident now for a guy you just caught watching porn on his phone in a grimy back office in the middle of the afternoon. 

But your noises and impatient movements spur him on. His sticky cock is filling out his jeans again. He nearly drools at the thought of the wet walls of your cunt, currently wrapped around his fingers, sliding over his cock instead. He knows you want it, too.

“Don’t you?” He asks like you could read his mind.

“Hm?” You hum absently. Empty headed. You’re still taken by the entire pulpy, messy scene. 

Reveling in the vulnerability of being spread open on his cluttered counter as you’re both half-dressed and panting in the other’s hot breath. Any semblance of the lightness of your mood is quickly replaced with a blinding need. His fingers work into you, making obscene sounds, and then you add your own fingers. Circling your swollen clit just as he lets you in on his vision. 

“You wanna bounce on my lap. Fill this pussy with my cock.” 

“Yes,” you hiss as you hover at the edge. 

“Yeah, that’s it,” he watches your fingers working deftly over your swollen clit. The encouragement tips you over. Your body jolts erratically as you contract around his fingers, and bright sparks of pleasure course through you. 

“Yeah, you’re gonna ride me like fuckin’ champ,” he decides. You pull at his wrist when you start to feel overwhelmed, and he slides his wet fingers over your soft inner thigh. He’s ready to grab you and carry you to the couch when both of your heads snap to attention at the sound of a door slamming in the driveway. 

“Shit,” he grumbles, looking for the clock on the stove before he remembers it’s definitely not set to the right time. You move nimbly, shimmying into your shorts, snapping your straps back over your shoulder, and brushing your hair out of your face. 

“Hey, wait,” he calls for you, but you’re on the move. 

“Let me know when I can pick up the baking dish,” you call over your shoulder. Luckily, Joel’s next guest seemed to know him better. They were off to search the shop first, so you didn’t collide with anyone before you got to your car. Joel stayed locked in the kitchen, catching his breath while you started to pull away. He didn’t see that you stole his dirty Creed shirt off the counter before you skipped out the door. 

When you grab it later to wear to bed, a naughty little smile tugs at the corners of your lips. When you pull the worn fabric to your nose to inhale deeply, you wonder if it’s one of those weird pheromone matches or something because you’re sure the sweaty man musk should be wrinkling your nose. 

Instead, it makes you think of his big arms and chest filling out the shirt. And how his shoulder and back muscles ripple under his sun-bronzed skin. What they’d look like coated in a sheen of salty sweat as he railed you, bent over his workbench, under the watchful eye of the calendar model and her flirty smize. 

The image has you interrupting your own scenarios-before-bed time. Maybe Joel needs a model from this decade. You giggle, bunching up the t-shirt to snap a tasteful shot of some underboob cleavage, with the faded Creed logo on full display. 

You send it off with no context, figuring it’s self-explanatory. It’s less than a minute before your phone buzzes, and you feel the intoxicating rush rip through your body before you pick it up to see just the heading on your lockscreen: 

Joel

Attachment 1 image

divider by @cyberangel-graphics

Please let me know if you enjoyed or hated this or a secret third thing (???) heheh

[thesilmarillionblog]

STRANGER

Summary: Although you were always aware that Black Noir was silent, it didn't stop you from quickly developing a bond. However, as soon as he touches you when he gets home, something about him feels off. You ignore his attitude since it still feels so nice, despite the fact that it feels like he is someone else entirely, a stranger.

Pairing: Black Noir / Reader

Warnings: Dark Fiction!, +18!Only, Smut, Suspense

Word Count: 2423

A/N: English is not my first language.

You asked Homelander and Ashley if Noir had been assigned to another mission because you were getting frustrated that he had not texted you back for days and had suddenly vanished. You were relieved when they informed you he had a lot on his plate, but you were also annoyed because it wasn't like him to ignore you or return your texts. One of his great virtues was that he would always text you back, even when you believed he was going to rip a head off during those missions.

Though you knew he couldn't talk which was a big obstacle for a healthy conversation, you moved his house months after you started dating without a second thought. You weren't in the slightest disturbed by that. Since actions speak louder than words, it was actually preferable if men said nothing at all. And Noir certainly knew how to express his affection for you.

You giggled uncontrollably at the memory of his adorable actions toward you. Even though he appeared tough and ruthless when wearing that black suit, he was always warm and affectionate with you. He was regarded by the world as one of the most formidable, vicious, and dangerous supe alive, yet you were aware of his extreme thoughtfulness and sensitivity, particularly with regard to his relationship with you.

No matter how much you wanted to see him, you didn't push him, even if he didn't take off his mask or suit at all while you were around. You knew he was extremely sensitive about how he looked and everything. When he finally trusted you enough to show himself to you, you knew he would eventually open himself up. 

You made the decision to dress elegantly and boldly for his gaze when he eventually texted you back to say he would be home tonight. You knew he liked you in short, lace-covered satin gowns. It had been nearly two weeks since he returned home, and you were aware that he missed you just as much as you did. 

It was when he eventually came home, after you had been waiting for him for hours with your dress on and messaging him nonstop, that you understood how much you liked him. You couldn't help but think about him and grin to yourself at all of your adorable times together when he acted a little goofy and awkward.

As he slowly made his way inside the home, you said, “Hey,” and gave him a quick hug. "Welcome home."

Noir offered you a strong hug in return and nodded as if he wanted to say the same thing. You then landed a firm kiss through his mask and said, “I've missed you too.”

As Homelander and Vought cautioned him not to talk, especially when you were around, Black Noir tried his hardest to remain silent. It was told to him that you were Noir's partner, and since Vought already had too much on its plate these days, it would be best if you didn't realize he wasn't the real Noir. He didn't mind you acting like your adorable, naive lover since he had seen your pictures and the way you texted him as though you were in heat, making it obvious that you wanted to be fucked till you were unable to walk.

As a result, he would enjoy the ride as well, providing for your needs in the manner that was expected of him. When they showed your picture, he didn't really care about Vought and all that, but now he thought it would be fun because you seemed so eager to please him with that slutty, lovely fucking dress. 

You said, “How went?” as if he could respond, but it didn't feel strange for you to remain silent. If one of you stayed quiet the entire time, it would be odd.

Noir kept himself from talking and instead studied your body and outfit with fascination, which made you chuckle. As though you could see him, he turned out the lamp, and you didn't object, supposing it was just one of his insecure times. 

You sat on his lap and softly touched his covered face before responding with a whispered “Why the hell you didn't text me back for days?” in an attempt to sound like a mad woman. “You didn't behave like that before, you know.” 

Under his mask, Noir gave you a mischievous smile as his hands boldly stroked your body, growing harder every second as he saw your nipples peek from your thin dress, giving the impression that you wanted a quick and brutal fuck. 'Who would have thought that mission would be so hot and delightful?' he thought as his gloved hand squeezed your hips until you nearly moaned with pain. He was touching your pussy firmly and passionately, making it wet. 

You removed the stupid plastic item covering his cock with your hands and began slowly grinding against his clothed shaft while moaning, “You're such a turn-on today? Did you really miss fucking me that much?”

Noir gulped down, and as you kept continuing to moan and gasp loudly, one of his hands tightly pinched your tits. “Did you miss filling me with your hot seed into my pussy? When you finally texted me back today, I fingered myself while thinking about your huge cock.”

The filth flowing from your lips made him extremely hard, and once he filled up your dress, he gave your ass a hard spank. 

You groaned in protest when he abruptly lifted you off his lap. He forced you to your knees before you could say anything, gripping your hair firmly as he struggled to get his cock out of his suit. He stretched his legs and drew your head toward himself while you were kneeling in front of him on the edge of the bed. You were taken aback by his sudden harshness and passion because you had never sucked him off before. Maybe the fact that you hadn't fucked in weeks was the reason he was feeling so kinky this evening.

Excitement filled your body as you waited for him to finally reveal his cock. Before you could even say anything, he pushed your head against his cock, forcing you to suck him. 

Noir made a determined attempt to stop himself from giving you orders to properly suck him off and wet his dick as your tongue quickly lapped the tip of his shaft. As you gave him a head, he grabbed one of your hands and put it on his cock, urging you to use your hands. 

“You're so thick, you know, it's hard to take it all,” you remarked as you placed your hands on his balls and sucked the sensitive head of his thick cock. “You taste so good.”

Noir let out a soft and low chuckle as you did your best to satisfy him and make him cum. You were such a good cocksucker it was disappointing he couldn't give you any compliments. He smiled thinking about how would your boyfriend respond seeing you sucking a stranger’s cock so eagerly.

When you swallowed his head, he moaned angrily, as you were only able to take half of his cock. He took hold of your hair and began giving you hard pushes until your nose touched his pubic hair. 

When he began to fuck your face, you attempted to pull away as his hands applied heavy pressure to your head until the tip of his cock touched your throat and tears streamed down your cheeks. He was always extremely particular about being clean and well-groomed, so when you saw he didn't shave, you were somewhat taken aback. He made you take up every inch of his hardness, pushed your head into his balls, and waited till you tapped his legs in an attempt to regain your breath. 

After he finally released your head a bit, you muttered, “You're extremely rough tonight.”

Even though he was harsh, you were so attracted to his behavior that you began to suck him the way he preferred, taking his entire shaft and rubbing his balls, wetting them with your saliva.

You pushed yourself to get him to cum in your mouth as soon as you sensed him getting closer.

You teased him, “Where do you want to cum?” as you continued to stroke his throbbing erection.

Noir slowly withdrew his cock from your lips, stilled your head, and began to fuck into your mouth, pressing the tip of his cock on your tongue so you could taste its salty essence. He was savoring the facial expressions you made and your sensual groans, and he growled with pleasure as he thought he was fucking real Black Noir's girlfriend's mouth and he was about to fuck his girlfriend's pussy. 

He removed his cock from your mouth and stroked your lips and cheeks with his cock while holding it as if he were fucking your face. After some time, he stopped wanting to cum in your mouth or on your face. 

When you attempted to put him in your mouth again, he growled in disapproval and threw you into the bed while trying to help you get up. With a swift and forceful motion that left you gasping in dismay, he forced your face against the mattress and tore off your underwear quickly. 

Although you weren't prepared for him to behave in this manner, you waited for him to lead you in the direction he wanted since you were eager to please him and you were already turned on by him. 

Noir stretched your legs apart and checked the intensity of the wetness by sticking two fingers inside your pussy. He groaned in satisfaction as he saw that you had already gotten wet, and he removed his meaty fingers with ease. 

You let out a loud cry and pushed him to move more quickly as he roughed you with his fingers. You let out a cry of pleasure as soon as you began to clench around his fingers. Once your climax subsided, he pulled you more into the sheets, thinking that this would be the time when he would finally turn you back and act a little more romantically. You let him have his fun, figuring he wanted to play hard this evening. 

Noir played with your clit from behind, taking his throbbing manhood into his fingers and giving himself short, rapid strokes. Upon realizing that you were anticipating his fuck with your legs apart, he gasped with delight. 

Breathless, you gasped as he began to press his shaft into your wetness. His gloved hands gripped your hips firmly as he began a quick and violent fuck. His big balls were slamming into your clit, producing obscene noises that filled the room. 

You were gasping out and raising your hips to meet his strong thrusts as Noir's hardness throbbed into your pussy. He pounded into you with powerful strokes, gripping your hair and pulling it while you clutched the sheets beneath your fingers under his instense fuck. 

You whined, “Fuck, you are so good,” your eyes welling up with tears due to the intensity of the moment. “Fuck me harder.” 

Under the mask, Noir grinned at your filthy actions and the way you urged a total stranger to give you more fucking, like a whore. He began fucking you from behind even more forcefully after pulling off your hair. You were screaming like a bitch in heat, and you had no idea that you were fucking a stranger. He thought you were a free chick for him to enjoy himself to the fullest. He would count himself fortunate.

Sensing his approaching closeness, he moved slightly and reached your sweet spot, giving you multiple orgasms before spilling inside of you. Your legs trembled wildly as you clamped around his cock after he found your sensitive spot and gave you an aggressive fuck there. Your pussy felt so sensitive that you tapped his legs to get him to slow down, but instead he fucked you even harder and struck the same area repeatedly, leaving you speechless. 

“Fuck, Noir,” was the only thing you could say. “It feels sensitive.” 

But instead of slowing down, he continued to fuck you through your climax until he made you cum on his cock once more. Your legs were shaking, and you were screaming his name in between endless orgasms. He was forcing himself not to laugh out loud while you kept orgasming under a stranger.

He pushed all of his length into your pussy and began spilling himself into you as he continued to fuck you after he decided you had come on his cock enough. You again clenched around his cock as his thick white ropes filled your insides. When he felt your pussy continued to clench around his shaft with eagerness, and he moaned with satisfaction. It seemed to him that you were a needy one, and he would be thrilled to give what you needed.

Your legs continued to shake as you felt his thick seed leaking out of your pussy, and you grinned and bit your lip, satisfied. You felt a deep sense of satisfaction, and you had no idea that you could get so many orgasms so quickly. Noir did give you a hard fuck during certain times, but that was the first time he used such force on you and ignored your boundaries, of which you were glad. You felt that he ought to have revealed more of his personality sooner. 

Noir met your tongue, palmed your pussy from behind, and put his weight on your back. He pulled his mask halfway to give you a firm kiss, you realized.

You gasped in horror as his lips found your ear, and he whispered into the darkness, “Not bad, darling.”

[jyoongim]

Hey, so I LOVED your Alastor x doe reader with synced heat/rut fanfic! I was just wondering if maybe we could get some aftercare? Like say, Al is all smitten now that he's calmed down and just cooes over her plush body, yknow, just regular malewife material :)

THANK YOUUUUUUU X <3

Read this one first!!

————————————————————————

You woke up with a groan. 

Your body was sore all over.

You blinked, trying to gauge your surroundings. 

You were in your room. 

You no longer had that burning need to be fucked and filled.

 Your heat had been sated.

You stretched and winced, feeling the stickiness of cum between your legs. You rolled over in your nest, finding the space occupied.

A surprised squeak left your lips when large hands pulled you into a warm mass.

”Good morning my doe” a raspy voice said, sharp teeth nipping at your shoulder.

Alastor!

You purred as the demon pressed soft kisses along your neck and shoulder, snuggling into him. You blushed remembering the night event before 

“O-oh good morning” you said softly looking up at the deer.

You and Alastor had mated.

He mated with you…

oh

my 

Satan!

He nestled his head in the crook of your neck, chest rumbling in a purr “How are you feeling?”

Sore. Thats how you were feeling but you felt happy and filled with dopamine.

”better. T-thank you for…for last night” you averted your gaze to his chest flush, fingers twirling.

He hummed “it was my pleasure dear. You were such a good girl”

You realized you were naked and went to cover yourself, but Alastor stopped you “Theres no need to hide yourself. I am your mate, there’s no need for modesty in the nest”

Your ears perked as you blinked at him “You dont mind being mated to me?” Your heart was fluttering.

He let out a chuckle “Of course not! You have no idea how long I’ve waited to bed you. I admit i would have preferred courting methods but here we are all the same”

His eyes looked over your body, marred with marks and bruises from your rutting.

Your belly grumbled and you blushed. He smirked “hungry?” You nodded and watched as he heaved himself up and walked to your closet.

Towels. He snapped his fingers and a tub of water appeared.

He gathered you in his arms, settling you in his lap as he washed you. Rinsing you of dried cum and blood. You saw his eyes light up seeing your cunt drip with his cum.

Once you were clean, clean pajamas were on your body and a hot plate of food appeared.

Fruits and water.

You happily grabbed the fruits and munched as Alastor massaged the knots out your body.

You pierced a berry with your claw and held it to his lips.

”You need to eat too” you said sweetly, making the overlord smile and wrap his lips around the fruit and your finger.

Once the plate was empty he snapped his fingers and it disappeared and his normal attire manifested on his person.

He set you on your bed and you watched as he cleaned up your room, discarding your ruined bedding and cleaning your nest.

You giggled when his shadow wrapped around you, cooing at you.

”Why dont you rest for the remainder of the day my dear? You took a lot last night” Alastor scratched your head as he tucked you into bed. You pouted, usually you opted for fresh air, but you were still very tired. 

You nodded “Won’t you stay?” Your big doe eyes looked at him. Alastor smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to your pouty lips “Ill be back doe. Dont worry your pretty head. Just rest until I come back”

Your eyes grew heavy and you snuggled in your bed. Alastor’s shadow stayed behind, eerily chirping and cooing quietly as it watched over you.

————————————————————————————-

Alastor smiled softly as you snored.

His eyes raked over you.

 You were beautiful.

His beautiful doe.

His beautiful mate.

Your fur had adapted some of his colorings, streaks of red blending in your natural coloring.

He never thought he would mate with another demon, but he was happy to be bonded to you.

He had moved all your things to his room and had prepared a nice warm bubble bath for you.

Unlike him, does typically needed more care after a rough heat. So he took it upon himself to make sure you were pampered and rested.

After all…

You were stuck with him forever…might as well get comfortable with with spoiling you at any given chance.

[sushiyuzu]

“don’t let him stare at you like that.”

nanami kento x fem!reader

warning: soft smut — kento being jealous and possessive in heat. minors dni!

- backup acc: @blushpawss

you sit across from kento, the flickering candlelight casting a warm glow on his chiseled features. he’s dressed in a tailored suit that accentuates his broad shoulders, and you can’t help but admire how handsome he looks tonight.

you guys are in a restaurant, which kento—like a gentleman—had taken you out for a fancy dinner earlier to strengthen the bond between the two of you. the venue buzzes softly around you, the low hum of conversations blending with the clinking of silverware.

you feel the soft lace of your red mermaid dress hug your curves, the fabric accentuating every movement. as you lean forward to speak, you catch kento’s gaze lingering on your neckline, his expression a mix of admiration and something more primal. the moment feels electric, charged with an unspoken tension that makes your heart race.

but then, you notice the waiter. he’s handsome, with a charming smile, and he seems to pay a little too much attention to you. you feel a flicker of discomfort when kento’s demeanor shifts. his jaw tightens, and you can see the irritation flashing in his eyes. it’s subtle, but it’s there, a protective instinct bubbling just beneath the surface.

“are you enjoying the food?” kento asks, his voice smooth but edged with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine.

“it’s delicious,” you reply, trying to maintain the lightness of the moment, but you can feel the heat radiating from him. he leans closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “just don’t let him stare at you like that.”

the possessiveness in his tone sends a thrill through you, and you nod, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. it’s thrilling and intoxicating, knowing that he’s so affected by this. as the dinner progresses, kento’s hand finds yours across the table. his fingers intertwine with yours, his touch firm yet tender, grounding you amidst the growing tension. you can feel the heat radiating from him, a simmering intensity that makes you acutely aware of every brush of his skin against yours. the air around you feels thick with desire, and you can’t help but lean closer, drawn to him.

as the waiter comes to take your plates, kento’s eyes never leave you, his expression dark and possessive. you can see the tension coiling within him, and it only makes you want him more. after the waiter leaves, he leans in, his breath warm against your ear, whispering, “you look so beautiful tonight. i can’t take my eyes off you.”

the compliment sends a shiver down your spine. you can feel your heart racing in response to his words, the way his gaze roams over your body like he’s memorizing every detail. when the meal is finally over, kento stands, his eyes dark with a mix of jealousy and need. he gestures for you to follow him, and as you step outside, the cool evening air contrasts sharply with the warmth of the restaurant. but the chill doesn’t last long; kento pulls you close, his body heat enveloping you.

“i couldn’t stand the way he looked at you,” he admits, his voice low and gravelly, as he backs you against the wall of the restaurant. the intensity in his gaze makes your breath hitch, and your heart races as he leans in, brushing his lips against your neck.

you shiver at the contact, feeling both vulnerable and exhilarated. kento’s breath is warm against your skin as he whispers, “you’re mine. no one else can look at you like that.”

his lips find yours in a heated kiss, filled with urgency and need. he kisses you deeply, pouring all his frustration and desire into that single moment. you respond eagerly, your hands finding their way to his hair, pulling him closer as his kisses grow more fervent, trailing down to your collarbone.

“kento,” you breathe, feeling the weight of his body pressing against you, heat pooling in your belly as his mouth travels lower. he teases the edge of your dress, fingertips brushing against your soft skin, igniting every nerve ending.

“what do you want, baby?” he murmurs against your collarbone, his warm breath sending goosebumps across your skin. “tell me.”

“i want you,” you gasp, desperation evident in your voice, and the raw need in your words makes his gaze darken with desire.

“you want me to take you right here?” he teases, biting down lightly on your shoulder, his teeth leaving a mark that makes your breath hitch. “so everyone can see how much you belong to me?”

the thrill of his words sends a jolt of excitement through you, and you nod, heart racing at the thought.

“yes, please,” you whisper, and that’s all the encouragement he needs.

kento captures your lips again, his hands roaming down your body, gripping your waist as he pushes you further against the wall. the heat radiating from him mingles with the tension in the air, making you feel alive. he breaks the kiss and moves lower, his lips trailing down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin, leaving small bites that sting and thrill all at once.

“i want everyone to see the marks i leave on you,” he growls, and with a swift motion, he pulls your dress down slightly, exposing more of your skin. his lips find the soft flesh of your breasts, kissing and biting, leaving deep red hickeys that will bloom like flowers in the days to come.

“kento!” you gasp, feeling a mix of pleasure and embarrassment as he lavishes attention on your breasts. his mouth works expertly, teasing you with bites and kisses that make you writhe against him, desperate for more.

“you like that, don’t you?” he smirks, looking up at you with darkened eyes, his voice dripping with teasing dominance. “you love it when I mark you as mine.”

you can barely respond, the pleasure overwhelming you as he continues to nip and suck, leaving marks that scream of possession. the way he focuses on your breasts, the heat of his mouth, and the pressure of his teeth only heighten your desire.

“you’re beautiful,” he murmurs, almost reverently, as he pulls back slightly to admire the marks he’s left on your skin. “i want to see you like this all the time.”

with a low growl, he captures your lips once more, his kiss more demanding this time, as if he’s trying to consume you whole. he presses his body against yours, and you can feel the hard evidence of his desire pressing into your thigh, intensifying your own need for him.

“let’s get out of here,” he breathes against your mouth, his hands gripping your waist tightly as he leads you down the street, the cool air contrasting sharply with the heat radiating from your bodies.

he pulls you into a nearby alley, the darkness enveloping you both, a thrill coursing through you at the secrecy of it all. kento presses you against the cool brick wall, his lips crashing against yours again with a fervor that leaves you breathless.

“i’ve been thinking about this all night,” he growls, his hands roaming down your body, exploring every curve. he teases the hem of your dress, fingers brushing against your thighs, making you ache for more.

“please,” you whisper, desperation lacing your voice, and he gives you a wicked smile, knowing just how to push you to the edge.

“please what?” he challenges, pulling back to search your eyes, his expression one of mischief and desire.

“please don’t stop,” you plead, and that’s all the encouragement he needs to resume kissing you, pouring all his longing and passion into the moment, making it impossible for you to think about anything else but him.

“i’ll give you everything you want, but you have to promise me something,” he says, his voice low and serious as he pulls back to meet your gaze.

“what?” you breathe, heart racing, anticipation thrumming through your veins.

“promise me you’ll scream my name when i make you feel good,” he says with a smirk, and your breath hitches at his words, a rush of heat flooding your cheeks.

“i promise,” you reply breathlessly, and he crashes his mouth against yours once more, sealing the promise with a heated kiss.

in this alley, under the stars, you lose yourselves in each other, and nothing else exists.

[gghostwriter]

i saw you opened your fluff requests so how about this: reid recieves an invitation to a high-school reunion back in Vegas but he doesn't want to go because of his bad childhood. but his best friend (who is completely in love with him) convinces him to go, and offers to be his fake girlfriend to hype him up and make him feel more comfortable. he agrees and ends up confessing his love on the same football field he was bullied on

please feel no pressure to write this, it's just an idea i thought was cute

Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader Trope: Friends to lovers; Fluff with a mix of pining wc: 2.1k A/N: Reader is not part of the BAU, but she just still work for the FBI. By far, this is my longest request written (it's a chapter length) and I don't know how it became so long but I hope you enjoy it still! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated 💗 Main masterlist

Rewriting History. // Spencer Reid

It was the heavy scent of books and wood that welcomed you home. Street lights reflecting off the emerald green walls, bathing the apartment space a warm golden hue. There was peace and stillness, your roommate of two years, Spencer Reid, nowhere to be seen—a usual occurrence that came with his and your job too, being FBI agents under the BAU and CACU, respectively.

You sluggishly made your way to your bedroom, adjacent Spencer’s closed door. Flipping open the switch, your worn body collapsed on the plush vanity chair as thoughts about the darkness of your job slip away and get replaced with melancholy on your connection with the boy genius. It was a relationship nurtured by grueling times in the academy—a connection forged out of convenience at first before becoming this convoluted and intimate bond all because you ended up falling for him.

It wasn’t a conscious choice and Spencer didn’t make it any easier. He was a closed off castle complete with a moat and a secret password—painfully shy and awkward in nature. If it wasn’t for required partnership in physical classes, you doubted you’d get as close as you were now.

A beep brought you out of your musings.

And as if he knew you were thinking of him, it was a text message from Spencer informing you of his return home in a few minutes. 

With a sigh, you pushed yourself out of the chair and changed into a set of clothes—a faded Caltech tee, that you never returned, and a pair of black leggings

Padding across to the kitchen, you opened the refrigerator and silently thanked your past self for prepping dinner for two in advance. With how irregular both your schedules were and Spencer’s apparent lack of skill in cooking, it fell upon your shoulders to make sure he isn’t living off of cold pizzas and Chinese takeouts. 

As the second plate of food was heating up in the microwave, the chiming of keys softly echoed from outside the mahogany door.

“Hey Spencer,” you called out from the kitchen counter.

A series of rustles and a soft hey answered back.

You tilted your head to the side in contemplation, something was wrong and as he turned the corner, shoulders curving in on itself and brows furrowed, something must definitely be wrong. 

“Tough case?” You asked, bringing both plates to the rounded dinner table.

“Yeah—” Spencer shook his head. “Actually no, not really but I got an email from Las Vegas.”

Your spoonful of soup hung midair, immediately concerned with the email contents. “Is it your mom? Is she okay?’ 

Having visited Diana in numerous occasions with and without Spencer, you’ve learned to love that woman fiercely too. She was a breath of fresh air—blunt during her lucid days and smart during her academic lectures. 

“It’s from my high school, an invitation for the reunion.”

Ah. “And you’re not sure if you want to go?” 

He shrugged, chewing his slice of chicken before answering. “There’s really no one I want to reconnect with, you know. No happy memories really.” 

“That’s true,” you nodded along. 

During the first few nights moving in the apartment, Spencer had shared the lows he had to go through just to get to where he was now at such a young age—endlessly mocked for being a geek, no friend group or single confidant to watch his back, and the utter humiliation of being tied naked on a football post. You had an inkling that the genius had gone through bullying, it was a sad norm in all schools, especially in public, but hearing it first hand had brought home just how much of his closed off and shy personality was a product of his trials.

You tapped your fingers on the table. “I think you should go.” 

“What?” 

“Yeah, yeah. To show all those mean bullies where you are now,” your back straightening from the idea. “They’ll talk about you in passing anyway, whether you’re there or not so might as well be there to show them up and defend yourself plus—” you paused, taking a sip of water before barreling through. “—you’ve become quite handsome since then. Don’t you think?”

His hazel eyes widened in surprise, further adding to his appeal. Spencer was so innocent that he didn’t know the effect he had on women—first evidence was yourself and the second was Lila Archer. “Y-you think I’ve become handsome?”

With warmth spreading on your cheeks, you nodded. “You’ve always been handsome to me.”

Spencer started coughing, hand beating on his chest as the food threatened to go down the wrong tube.

Alarmed, you quickly stood up and started patting his back for assistance. How embarrassing was this—the first time you blatantly flirted with the man you formed intense attraction for ends up with him almost choking. Was this a sign maybe to not push your luck? You’ve done just about anything to nudge Spencer’s mind in acknowledging your feelings, from remembering all his little quirks (all were just so cute), actively listening to his tangents (all very informative and interesting), and even sometimes delivering a box of donuts to his team (all in the name of seeing his face brighten up) but none seemed to have worked. So, you opted to tell him in words and look what that did to him.

You gnawed on your lower lip. Maybe it was best to pull back, maybe it was best to throw in—

He cleared his throat before his hand reached yours situated on his shoulder. There was a slight tremor before it closed around your all of a sudden clammy palm. “I’ll go if you go with me.”

Filter off your brain. “As a fake girlfriend type of thing?”

You shut your eyes closed, promising to yourself to stop reading those unrealistic romance novels that Penelope lends you.

“If—if you want,” his voice shaky and soft as rustles could be heard in the background.

Opening your eyes, Spencer was now fully facing you. Eyes roaming your face and body—profiling you.

A small smile graced your lips. “Okay.”

———

The second thing your brain thought of was how oddly fitting that the reunion was held at the school gym, located beside the football field. The first thought being how Spencer looked devastatingly handsome in his suit and tie.

His attire wasn’t that different from his usual in the FBI but there was a hidden meaning behind his choices. The patterned brown blazer was a gift you had given to him for his first anniversary working at the FBI and his tie matched the color of your dress. 

It made you feel warm even though a shiver went down your spine as a sudden gust of wind passed by. 

Spencer slid closer towards you. “Do you want my coat?”

“I’m alright, thanks for asking Spence,” you looked up, smiling in reassurance. The fairy lights hung in rows emphasized how structured his face was. A high nose bridge, similar to his mother’s, and high cheekbones that made your fingers twitch in want to caress. He was stunning to look at—a view you feared you’d never get enough of.

“Spencer Reid!” A booming male voice shouted from across the gymnasium causing a few heads to swivel. Based on the other attendees reactions—giving them ample space as they passed and the stares tracking their every move, you knew who he was right away. A former bully.

“How are you?” he reached out his hand for a handshake. One that Spencer stared at before bringing his hand up to a wave, lips in a tight lipped smile.

“Hey Paul, nice to see you.”

“Is it?” He chuckled before turning his eyes on you. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

You stated out your name, tone very similar when you’re on the field—cold and professional.

“Look at you, Spencer, having such a pretty girlfriend. Heard you work for the FBI now, is that how you two met?” 

A saccharine smile spread across your lips. Your boy genius had been stiff ever since Paul called out his name. Having have heard how Spencer once reacted to a case where the unsub was a high school victim, you knew where his mind was at the moment. Grappling with the hurt from the past and trying his best not to lash out from the scars it had left behind. “Yeah, we met at the Academy and just clicked. He was such a gentleman that I couldn’t say no when he asked me out for a date.”

“That’s good to hear. Listen, man, is it alright if I talk to you for a second? Alone?”

You brushed the back of your hand with his, bringing his attention to you. There was a slight furrow in between his brows and his stature was taut, like a stretched out bow that needs to release it’s arrow. This was one of the few times, you could tell, that Spencer was unsure what to do. There was no malice behind Paul’s request and although you weren’t a profiler yourself, the slight hunch on the former bully’s shoulder silently communicated his remorse. 

Spencer’s eyes trained on yours and as if he found the answer within the depths of your gaze, he slightly smiled, squeezing your hand in his before turning back and nodding to the interloper. 

“I’ll go get a refill,” you lifted your empty cup to excuse yourself.

In truth, you stood idly near the punch bowl and kept your eyes glued on the male duo. Paul was looking down, shuffling his feet, before taking a deep breath and looking straight at Spencer. He uttered a few words you couldn’t make of and in turn, Spencer’s body relaxed and he nods once. With an offer for a handshake, one that Spencer shook, Paul walked away as you made your way back to your partner’s side.

“Good talk?” you asked.

“He apologized,” Spencer muttered, eyes studying you before grasping your hand back to his. “No refill?”

You shrugged. “Didn’t feel like it anymore. Say Spence—” he titled his head as an answer. “Want to get out of here?”

He chuckled, eyes twinkling with relief. “Thought you’d never ask.”

———

The cicadas were singing their tune as you and Spencer stepped out to the football field. The grass lush in color and the faint smell of wet earth wafted around. Grateful that you opted to wear sensible flats rather than the high heels Penelope was bartering you to wear, you held Spencer’s hand tight as he started recollecting the worst bullying that happened in the same place many years ago.

“That—” he pointed at the goalpost on the far right. “—was where I was left tied up. I remember feeling worried that I would catch hypothermia as the rain kept coming and going that day and I remember feeling sad when I got home and my mother didn’t notice me missing.” 

Your voice caught in your throat.

He continued on. “They say people forget events as they grow older and I wished I had the luxury of that.”

“Because of your eidetic memory,” you sighed. It was a blessing and a curse to have. 

“But I was thinking, maybe I could rewrite it instead?”

There was a thick layer of hope behind his words causing you to turn, fully facing him this time.

“I—I’ve been keeping a secret from you for 24 months and 182 days and I don’t know if this would change our relationship or ruin it but you’re my person, my best friend—” he took a deep breath. “—and I’m in love with you.”

People say there are moments in your life that would upend everything as you know it and tilt everything to an axis, you never understood what they meant by that, up until this moment. The twinkling night stars suddenly appeared brighter, the temperature warmer, and the force that tethered you to Earth was no longer gravity, it was now Spencer Reid.

You smiled, eyesight blurring from tears. His trembling fingers reached out to wipe the droplets making its path down your cheeks.

“I’m in love with you too, Spencer Reid, since the beginning.” 

And as if the world needed more proof, he smiled—his bright, full teeth smile and you felt your heart halt before starting back up again. 

It was proof that he owned the beating organ in your chest and all the emotion that came with it. 

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[malusmagpie]

His Best Girl.

Pairing: Anakin x Jedi!Fem Reader

Summary: You two used to be thick as thieves but The Council split you up. Anakin isn't having that go on any longer.

Warnings: 18+ !!!! SMUTTY !!!! Taking virginity, jealousy, restraint, dirty talk/praise kink, hair pulling, dominance, "master" kink, neck kissing, biting, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, etc.

A/N: Y/N/N means your nick name! Inspo from a drabble by @skywlker-sluvtt about the reader being a virgin/inexperienced. Surprise! It's a long one again. I haven't ever written one shots this long idk what's come over me. (It's Anakin. Anakin has come over me.) I love the anakin x jedi reader trope and I can world build forever with it. Anyways, enjoy you filthy animals and thank you so much for the love!! <3 Y'all have made me feel very welcome here.

Word Count: 4.4k

You were just a little girl when you were taken in by the Jedi Council. You remember how wide your eyes were as you watched the planet of Coruscant get closer and closer. You were 8. Anakin was 11. You both clicked quickly and were essentially glued to each others hips. You’d talk yourselves into trouble, sneak out to go stare at the stars at midnight and throw food at each other in the dining hall instead of eating.

When you were children that was fine, it was nothing a stern talking to couldn’t fix. As you grew older, the council began to take strict measures to ensure you two would only be together when absolutely necessary. They decided it was in both of your best interests to stay away from each other and the bond you two shared eventually dwindled. Instead of whispering while a Master was attempting to do their teaching, the two of you would barely exchange glances. You’d walk silently in a single file line to the dining hall, no longer bothering to take the heat for walking next to each other.

The whispering and laughing turned into polite nods and common greetings said in passing. You’d walk right by him and bow your head at him, he’d reciprocate with a fairly neutral expression gracing his features. You’d always feel his head turn to look back at you as you walked in opposite direction, he found himself often wishing he could call over his shoulder and tease you and tell you your form needed work or that your footwork was a mess like he used to when you were young.

You were 19 now. Anakin was 22. You’d barely looked at each other or spoken for longer than a few moments in years. The fear of going against the Councils wishes outweighed your nostalgia for the friendship you once shared. You wanted to be great and so did Anakin. So the two of you focused on becoming the people you’d both dreamed of being.

It wasn’t long until Anakin was knighted. The ceremony was filled with toasts and speeches. You sat with the small group of girls that you had become friendly with over the years and ate your meticulously prepared meal. Anakin sat next to Obi-Wan, along with the other Jedi Masters at the long table at the front of the room. You wished you could give him a hug, congratulate him, tell him he deserved the praise he was getting. He had grown so much you often had a hard time recognizing the little boy you once knew.

You did your fair share of filling out as well. Anakin didn’t let that go unnoticed as his eyes would trail over you when you’d find yourselves in a shared space. When he thought you weren’t looking his eyes would take in every inch of you but you could feel him. You felt every movement of his eyes on you and you could never bare it so you’d often excuse yourself.

That trend continued tonight and as you sat in the large dining hall you felt eyes looking over you. It was such a strong gaze you could practically feel it like fingers touching on the skin under your Jedi appointed uniform. You shivered as you placed your fork next to your plate. Your eyes darted over to Anakin who, to no surprise, was looking right at you. Your tongue darted out to soften your suddenly dry lips and you pressed them into a hint of a smile. He returned the small smile and looked back at Obi-Wan who was proudly speaking to him about their last mission together.

The feeling of his gaze made your stomach flip and you stood up, excusing yourself politely. The need to use the bathroom as a safe space to calm yourself grew within you. You walked through the rows of tables, still feeling a set of eyes on you, and felt a hand lightly grasp your arm and your head snapped to look down at a boy you had trained with once before smiling up at you from his chair. He had dark short hair and piercing green eyes.

“You look nice tonight.” He smiled at you and you raised an eyebrow. “I look the same as I always do.” You muttered, confused and still feeling eyes on you. The gaze harshened and you dropped your head, ignoring it. “Yeah but.. Your hair. You left it down. It’s nice.” He smiled again, he was handsome but this really was not your prerogative. You smiled politely at him and mumbled a thanks to get the interaction over with before scurrying to the bathroom.

Anakin looked between you and the boy as you two spoke, desperately trying to read lips, focus on your voices through the Force, anything to know what was going on. When you smiled he felt his hand tighten around the glass he was raising to his lips. There was a level of possessiveness that Anakin held on to when it came to you. Growing up you were his best friend. His favorite. His best girl. Now you were effectually strangers and it killed him a little every day when you’d curl your perfect lips into a shy smile at him, or wave your soft looking hand at him in passing. He didn’t act on it now when he saw the way the guys would look at you and talk to you but he sure as hell felt jealousy bubble up within him every time it happened. He placed the glass down a little harder than even he expected, his hands pushed against the table so he could stand up. He adjusted his robe as he stood and looked at Obi-Wan. “I’ll be right back.” He muttered as he stepped away from the commotion in the dining hall. He made sure to slip past the boy who had been speaking to you, standing tall and walking confidently. The quiet washed over him as the door of the dining hall closed behind him.

You were standing in the bathroom in front of one of the giant mirrors at the sinks. Your hand combed its way through the ends of your hair, as you tried to make the soft natural curls you had look more presentable. You sighed in frustration when they simply stayed the way they were. You pulled your Jedi robe down and tucked it further into your utility belt to make it look less lumpy from sitting down. The small amount of makeup you had attempted to put on looked alright but it made you mad regardless. Why couldn’t it just look perfect? You thought. You groaned and placed your hands on the corner of the counter, leaning toward your own reflection. You’d never cared about what you looked like before but something about that boys words made your mind go straight to over thinking. “So stupid.” You whispered to yourself.

You felt something, or somebody near you. The Force wasn’t hard to navigate when it was this quiet and your eyes darted to the reflection of the door behind you in the mirror. You watched the door crack open and a sandy blonde head peered in. Anakin pushed the rest of the door open and entered the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He made sure to lock it incase somebody came in and gave him shit for being in the women’s lavatory.

“What’re you doing in here?” You whispered, turning around to face him. You took a few steps toward him, only enough for your voice to travel to him without having to raise it. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the beam next to him. His broad shoulders raised and dropped and he looked over you again. “Just wanted to check on you.” He spoke with a small smile on his lips. Maker, you could tackle him to the ground when he did that.

You took a deep breath and looked around the room as you thought of what to say next. “Why would you check on me?” Your eyebrow raised slightly. “Wanted to make sure that little creep didn’t come in here with you.” His words were laced with an emotion you weren’t familiar with and you were taken aback. “Little creep? What are you-“ Your head raised a bit as you realized who and what he was talking about. “Him? He’s just somebody I practiced with one time. I wouldn’t- I’ve never..” Your brain found it increasingly hard to find the right words as you watched Anakin. His strong arms were still crossed over his large chest and he tightened his jaw every time you stuttered.

With a prompt shake of his head he took a step forward, his tongue pushed against the front of his teeth as he smiled with an unbelieving expression. “You’ve never what?” He said, his voice was surprisingly venomous as he spoke to you, you hadn’t gotten a chance to realize how tall he’d gotten until he stepped closer and towered over you. “Done something like that.” Your eyes dropped to gaze at the floor as you muttered the words that he had forced out of you.

There was silence for a moment. His thumb and pointer finger slipped under your chin and grasped it gently to make you look up at him. His blue eyes were a bit darker than normal and your heart skipped a beat at the close proximity you were in now. “Never?” He asked, his interrogation was completely unexpected. You opened and closed your mouth and decided to nod your head instead of let yourself try to speak again. He continued to stare down at you, his eyes searching yours for even a hint of dishonesty. He never found it. “Still my best girl..” He mumbled and your eyebrows pushed together. You hadn’t heard him say that in years though now, it seemed to have a bit of a different meaning to it.

“You’ve grown so much, Y/N/N.” He whispered as his face neared yours. You gulped the access saliva in your mouth down as you responded. “You have too, Ani.” Your words came out weak, you didn’t have the same confidence you normally carried yourself with and it made Anakin smirk. Your soft voice saying the nickname he only allowed you to use made his length twitch in his pants ever so slightly. He hummed and it was almost inaudible. Something about being the only one to know you as well as he did ignited something within him.

“You’ve grown.. But you’ve never had anything special.. Have you?” He whispered. “Something that made you feel good..” His words wrapped around you like an electric blanket and his hand moved to cup your cheek while his thumb caressed it. Your breathing shook and your eyes widened at his words. “N-no.” You muttered through your labored breathing. You could sense how excited this was making him and it was making you feel like you could throw up from anticipation of his next moves. Your cheeks reddened and your ears burned as he looked between your eyes and your lips. “Nobody’s ever gotten to feel those pretty lips? Or hear what could fall from between them?” You gasped quietly at his words and shook your head, your eyes never left his. His thumb moved to trace your lips gently and your eyes rolled back for a fraction of a second. His expression seemed to get more and more intense, his own breathing became a bit heavier.

“And those hands… Nobody’s ever felt how soft and useful they can be?” His free hand traced a finger down your arm before grabbing your hand. Your head was spinning as you shook your head again and he laughed softly. “Can’t even talk.. So fucking innocent.” He growled into your ear and your breath caught in your throat loudly. He smiled at the reactions he was getting from you. He used his grasp on your hand to turn the both of you around so your back was against the wall and he pinned your hand above your head.

“Anakin..” You muttered, your face was bright red and your breath just couldn’t be caught. His warm body pressed up against yours and you whimpered involuntarily at the feeling. He smirked at the reaction and began to place the softest of kisses on your neck, jaw, cheeks, and corners of your mouth. You bit your lip and took deep breaths through your nose. “Please kiss me.” You whined and his head lifted, eyes shining at you. He seemed physically unable to wipe the cunning smile off his face as he pressed his lips against yours. They were hot and soft, causing you to practically melt into him.

It was deep and longing, the feeling behind the kiss. He was smothering you and you couldn’t breathe but it was all worth it. Small breaths were caught between kisses and he stopped to whisper against your lips. “Open..” And you did. You opened your mouth for him and he immediately sucked on your tongue. You gasped and your eyes snapped open to see his still fluttered closed as he tangled his muscle with yours through open mouthed kisses. Your eyes squeezed shut again when his free hand palmed your breast, pushing upward, grabbing it and repeating. His name left your lips and his hips bucked toward yours ever so gently.

“Master Anakin.” He groaned, correcting you against your lips and you complied. “Master Anakin..” You whispered as your head bounced back against the wall in pleasure and you kept it there because he immediately moved his lips down to your neck. He left bites and sucked gently, even blowing on where he left his saliva and you flinched harder causing your free hand to snap up and grab hold of his hair. Your legs squeezed together as you stood against the wall for some kind of release and he stuck his knee between your legs.

“That’s my job.” He growled against your neck. He pushed your pants down with aggression and you kicked them off your feet. He sat on his knees in front of you and grabbed onto your hips, his fingers squeezed into your ass and you moaned. Your legs felt shaky as he sat with his face mere inches away from your heat. You eyed him with wide, curious eyes. You’d never felt like this before. Your now unrestrained hands pushed his hair back from his face and he peered up at you as he slid a finger between your folds. You let out a sound comparable to a squeak at the new feeling and he smirked.

“So wet… All for me, hm?” He whispered as he slid a single finger into your tight hole. Your eyes squeezed shut and you let out a breathy whimper. He laughed when you weren’t able to respond, your innocent nature made him feel dirty and perverted. He was eating it up as he slid in and out of you slowly, getting you used to the feeling. He pushed himself against your legs to keep your knees from buckling when he felt them shake even more, his free hand reached up and fondled your tits and it doubled as a way to keep you standing. His thumb pressed against your clit and he could feel it pulsating, causing another chuckle to leave his swollen lips. “So fucking eager.” He said with his eyes staring deep into yours as he slid a second finger inside of you. A yelp escaped your lips and you squirmed while he pushed his thumb against your clit and fingered you with one hand and rolled your nipple between his fingers with his other hand. You clenched around his fingers and he shushed you gently.

“Breathe, just let me make you feel good. Relax..” He whispered as he kept a slow and steady pace. You took a few breaths through gritted teeth and it made the pleasure feel all that much better as you relaxed around him. “That’s my girl.” He cooed as he circled his thumb around your clit and curved his fingers toward him causing him to push against the sensitive top wall of your pussy. A gasp escaped and you whined his name as he left kisses all over your hip bones. The warmth sent shivers down your back. Anakin removed his thumb when your eyes squeezed shut and you felt something warm and wet replace it on your clit. A louder gasp escaped your lips when you opened your eyes and saw his mouth on your clit and one of your hands gripped his hair tighter while the other flew toward your mouth in shock at the noise you made. He groaned at the feeling of you pulling his hair and the vibrations made another moan leave your mouth, barricaded by your hand.

“No need to be quiet. Nobody’s coming here..” He whispered and you remember he’d locked the door. You dropped your other hand back into his hair as he lapped away at your clit. The taste made him want to absolutely devour you and he tried his best to get as close as he could to doing so. His fingers moved quicker when he felt you begin to clench again and his tongue went from soft, flat licking to quick, pointed flicking.

“Such a pretty pussy..” He whispered into you. You felt something begin to tighten in your stomach and your back arched, causing you to grind on his face and your cheeks reddened when you realized how good it felt. You swung your hips back and forth desperately and whined his name out as you grinded on his face while he licked and finger fucked you. He smiled when he realized you’d never have known you liked to grind on his face without him, it filled him with pride and he felt his cock press against the zipper of his pants making them feel much tighter now.

One last flick of his tongue and curl of his fingers sent you spiraling over the edge, gasping for air and moaning.

“Oh gods, Master.” You exclaimed with a shaky voice between your moans as your body shook with ecstasy. You’d never felt like this before, your eyes screwed shut as you began to see little dots collect in your vision and you felt a little bit of fluid come out of your pussy, soaking his chin and fingers. He growled at the feeling and pulled his fingers out. He reached his hand to your lips as he stood up in front of you and you opened your mouth willingly. “Such a good girl for me.” He whispered as your eyes rolled back at the taste of yourself on him. When you opened your eyes again after collecting yourself you found his pants were already on the floor and he was working on the tedious layers on his top half. He threw his clothes to the side and caged you in against the wall with a grunt. You felt something long raise up between your legs and hit your pussy and you gasped. Your curious gaze found the culprit and you swore your eyes bulged out of your head.

His hands found their way to your thighs and he pulled on them, you jumped up and wrapped your legs around his hips and your arms swung around his neck, squeezing as if you’d fall if you let go. He chuckled. “I’m not gonna drop you.” He said in the cocky tone you knew and adored. Your arms loosened and your stomach flipped when you realized it was his strong arms keeping you levitating in front of him. Another groan escaped his lips at the flustered look on your face and you looked at him through your lashes with dazed, drooped eyes. He smirked and removed one hand to pump his cock as it teased your entrance. How could something that big fit inside of me? You thought to yourself as you labored your breathing. He sensed your nerves.

“You’ll be okay. You can take this, I know you can. You’re my best girl.” He cooed into your ear as you felt his tip push against your virgin hole. You bit on your lip and immediately felt his lips push against you gently. You let go and reciprocated the gentle kiss as he soaked himself in your juices for a moment and pushed the head in. You sucked in a sharp breath and your eyes stung. He looked at you. “Just like before, Y/N/N. Relax… You’re such a good girl.. You can take it.” He groaned between his own words at the feeling of your pussy around his cock. You took a few deep breaths as he slowly sheathed himself into you, his hip bones hit yours and he stopped to let you adjust.

“Good girl.. So fucking tight.” He whispered again, encouraging you to relax and you did. You let out a few more deep, shaky breaths and nodded to him, words weren’t exactly a possibility right now. He smiled and pushed his lips against yours to distract you a bit before he started to move slowly. In and out. In and out. His kisses migrated down your chin to your neck and you pushed your head against the wall. Your chest was rising and falling quicker and quicker as the discomfort began to feel like pleasure. You clenched a bit and moaned when it began to feel better, Anakin took that as his signal to pick up the pace. He stroked the inside of your pussy quicker and quicker, moving all the way to his head before pushing back into you. His grip on your hips tightened and he moaned against your neck. Your hands reached for his hair again, he seemed to enjoy when you did that and it gave you something to tether you to this plane of existence.

“You’re doing such a good job at taking my cock.” He moaned and your eyes rolled back into your head again. Your jaw went slack when he adjusted you to be a bit higher and his dick slid against your g-spot. The noises you were emitting were uncontrollable now. Gasps, whimpers and moans all fell through with the occasional, “Oh Master..” thrown in.

“So pretty with my cock in you… Nobody knows you like I do… They never will.” He grunted as he began to thrust with more aggression and desperation than before. He wanted to feel every inch of you, every crevice and every ridge. Your brain mustered up the power to respond. “They never will… I only want you.. I always have.” Your words came out in between gasps. You let out another moan and squirmed when his fingers dig further into the soft skin on your hips.

His free hand moved one of your hands from his hair to your tits and he leaned back to watch you palm and pinch away at them. His eyes darkened and his teeth gnawed down on his lower lip as he watched. The sight itself was enough to make a man cum in his pants. He watched you play and squirm while you moaned his name and he began to fuck you faster. You almost screamed at the feeling, your voice echoed through the bathroom and you didn’t care at all.

You felt a familiar feeling build up in you and you pulled your other hand from his hair to rub your clit the same way he’d shown you. “Look at you.. Doing what I taught you.” He groaned as he continued his rampage on your pussy. The feeling of both your clit and hole being ravaged caused you to arch your back again and this time he hit a spot he hadn’t before. “Oh fuck.” You exclaimed as you rubbed away at your swollen set of nerve endings quicker, desperately trying to pull the orgasm out. He leaned in and began to kiss you with an open mouth, tongues fought and you could taste the sweat from his upper lip. You clenched around his cock as you let out another orgasm and your convulsing pussy sent him over the edge. His strokes got sloppy and his breath came out of his nose in short, repetitive bursts. He soaked your walls with his milk and you moaned at the feeling of your mixed liquids trickling down to your thigh as he slowed down again.

He let your legs fall and his hands moved to your waist as he slipped out of you and your feet hit the ground as a way of steadying you. Your vision was slightly blurred as you both attempted to catch your breath. His forehead leaned against yours and his hot breath hit your lips. He leaned in for another kiss and this one was gentle and sweet. You moaned softly into it. “So much better than I’d hoped.” He whispered into your mouth and a blush formed on your cheeks again. He handed your clothes to you and you put them on shakily. When you were both dressed he held you close to him, hands gripping your waist with a gentleness that hadn’t been there when he was fucking you.

“They won’t keep us apart again.” He said softly, staring into your eyes and you smiled. “Never.” You responded and placed another kiss on his lips. He smiled into it and brought you closer by the small of your back before pulling away. “They’re probably wondering where we went.” He chuckled and you smiled in response. He gave you one last kiss on your nose before unlocking the door and slipping out of the bathroom. You waited a few minutes, fixing your hair and now non-existent makeup before following his steps toward the dining hall.

The party had gone smoothly and you didn’t catch a break from the girls you were sitting with about being gone so long. You laughed and brushed them off. The three of you walked towards your own dormitories after taking showers and getting ready for bed. “Goodnight, ladies.” You spoke as you closed your door and got comfortable in your bed. You were giddy and your body felt electric as your mind ran through the memories of the night. It hadn’t been more than an hour before you heard your door open and your head turned towards the light creeping in. Anakin slipped in and shut your door behind him, a smirk graced his face as shock blanketed yours.

“Gods, I missed that pretty face.” He spoke as he approached you. You sat up and smiled up at him. It was going to be a long night.

[annanevermore]

One Saturday morning…

“Me and Steve are trauma bonded,” Eddie says proudly, stars in his eyes as he looks at Steve.

“Pft. What, because he dragged your half-dead ass out of the upside down? All he got from that was a bad back.” Robin rolls her eyes.

“He was already proving his love to me, before he even knew it existed,” Eddie insists.

Steve shoots him a fond smile. Checks on the bacon cooking in the oven and throws some toast in the toaster.

“Don’t kid yourself. Steve and I are the ones trauma bonded. We are the real deal. Got chained together, truth-serumed, questioned, beat up. You can’t come close to that, Munson.”

“I only recall one of you getting beat up. You were fine Buckley.”

“Um, I was there. I witnessed all the horrors. Meanwhile, you were fucking unconscious. I don’t know how you bonded with anything.”

“Don’t you have a girlfriend to bother?”

“She’s busy. Besides, I need to make sure you keep your smelly, metal mitts off my best friend.”

“Why do you have to bring metal into this? And you know my mitts are all over him already.”

Steve and Eddie exchange a heated look.

“Eww, can you not? Right in front of my eggs?”

“I mean, you set it up for me, Buckley. I just took the bait.”

“Why am I still the babysitter?” Steve sighed under his breath.

“Because you’re so good at it, big boy.” Eddie flirts, winks at him, and Robin gags.

“Maybe YOU two should date,” Steve suggests. It feels like they’re a throuple actually - as he literally flips their eggs in the frying pan. He doesn’t even like eggs. It’s just for them.

“That's disgusting, Steve. Even if I liked guys, hard no. Pass.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

Eddie sniffs. “Doesn’t matter anyway. I like dick. Your best friend’s dick.”

Yelling ensues and a bit of hitting. Well, slapfighting more like. Steve just tries to stay out of it. Puts eggs on both their plates, and of course that’s what finally shuts them up. He has children. Two giant children.



[bookwormjust]

Imagine: An Accident at Dinner with the Inner Circle

Dinner with the Inner Circle was always an event to look forward to—filled with laughter, shared stories, and the warmth of being surrounded by those who had become family. Tonight was no different. The grand dining room of the House of Wind was bathed in the golden glow of candlelight, the long table adorned with an array of dishes that would make any chef proud.

Azriel sat beside you, as he always did, his presence a steady, comforting anchor amidst the lively chatter. His hand rested on your knee under the table, a quiet but constant reminder of the bond you shared. You were mid-conversation with Mor, who was animatedly recounting a tale of her latest shopping spree, complete with exaggerated gestures and laughter.

Across the table, Feyre and Rhysand were locked in a mock argument about who had won their latest training session, while Cassian was trying to convince Amren to try a new dessert. It was a scene of perfect, chaotic harmony—each voice, each laugh, blending into a symphony of camaraderie.

Feyre stood up with a smile, reaching for a large, steaming pot of soup from the center of the table. “Alright, who’s ready for seconds?” she asked, lifting the pot with one hand while balancing her plate in the other. But in her enthusiasm, she misjudged the angle, and the pot slipped from her grasp.

Everything seemed to slow down in that moment. You watched as the pot wobbled, tipping dangerously, and then—before anyone could react—it tumbled forward, the steaming contents splashing across the table. Hot soup splattered everywhere, cascading over plates, cutlery, and worst of all—over you.

The shock of the searing liquid against your skin made you gasp, instinctively jerking back in your chair. The heat was overwhelming, a burning sensation spreading from your lap down to your legs. You could hear the sharp intake of breath from everyone around the table, and Feyre’s horrified gasp as she realized what had happened.

“Y/N!” Feyre’s voice was filled with panic and regret as she reached out, but Azriel was already moving.

Before you could fully register the pain, Azriel was there, his shadows swirling in a frenzy around him. He pulled you to your feet, his eyes wide with a mix of panic and fear that you had rarely seen in him. His hands, those scarred hands that had seen so much pain, moved quickly as he tried to brush the hot soup off your clothes, his touch gentle but hurried.

“Az—” you started, trying to calm him, but his expression stopped you short. There was something deeper there, a shadow of past trauma that flickered in his gaze as he took in the redness spreading across your skin.

His grip tightened slightly, and you felt the tension in his muscles as he fought to control his emotions. You could see the anger simmering beneath the surface—not at you, not even really at Feyre, but at the situation, at the memories it stirred. Azriel’s own burns, the scars that marked his hands, were a constant reminder of pain he had endured alone, and seeing you hurt, even in this small way, pulled those memories to the forefront.

“Feyre, get some cold water!” Rhysand’s voice cut through the tension, his tone commanding but calm. Feyre nodded quickly, rushing to grab a pitcher of cold water from the side table, her face pale with worry.

Azriel guided you away from the table, his movements swift but careful. “We need to cool it down,” he muttered, more to himself than to anyone else, as he took the pitcher from Feyre’s trembling hands and gently poured the water over your lap, trying to soothe the burn.

You winced at the initial contact but nodded, placing your hand over Azriel’s to steady him. “I’m okay,” you said softly, trying to reassure him, but his eyes remained fixed on you, his expression a storm of guilt and fury.

“You shouldn’t have to be hurt,” he whispered, his voice low and tight. “Not like this.”

You squeezed his hand, feeling the tension in his grip, the way his shadows seemed to pulse erratically around him. “Az, it’s okay,” you murmured, reaching up to cup his cheek, trying to pull him back to the present, to remind him that you were here, with him. “I’m okay.”

His jaw clenched, and for a moment, you thought he might lose control—the shadows around him darkening, twisting in response to his turmoil. But he took a deep breath, closing his eyes briefly as he leaned into your touch. Slowly, the storm in his gaze began to subside, the frantic edge fading as he focused on you.

The rest of the Inner Circle hovered nearby, concern etched on their faces. Cassian stepped forward, his voice gentle as he said, “Feyre didn’t mean it, Az. It was an accident.”

Feyre, standing a few steps away, looked on the verge of tears. “I’m so sorry, Y/N,” she said, her voice cracking slightly. “I didn’t mean to—”

You offered her a small, reassuring smile. “It’s okay, Feyre. Really. Just a little hot soup.”

Azriel’s grip on your hand finally loosened, his posture relaxing as he took another deep breath. He glanced at Feyre, his expression softening as he nodded. “It’s alright,” he said, his voice still a little rough around the edges but calmer. “I know it wasn’t on purpose.”

Mor appeared at your side with a cool cloth, gently pressing it to the reddened area on your leg. “Here, this should help,” she said softly, her eyes flicking between you and Azriel with a worried frown.

“Thanks, Mor,” you said, grateful for the cool relief against your skin. You looked up at Azriel, who was still watching you with an intensity that made your heart ache. You reached for him again, pulling him closer so that your foreheads touched, a silent promise between you.

“I’m right here,” you whispered. “And I’m fine. We’re fine.”

Azriel’s eyes closed for a moment as he leaned into you, his breath evening out as he steadied himself. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I just… I can’t stand seeing you hurt.”

You nodded, understanding more than words could express. You knew the scars he carried, both seen and unseen, and how fiercely he protected those he loved—how fiercely he protected you.

Rhysand cleared his throat softly, his voice gentle as he broke the quiet. “Let’s take a break, give everyone a moment to breathe.” He glanced at Feyre, who nodded, still looking a bit shaken.

Azriel helped you to a nearby chair, his hand never leaving yours as he sat beside you. His shadows, usually so composed, still swirled restlessly around his feet, betraying the lingering tension in his mind.

You squeezed his hand, drawing his attention back to you. “I love you,” you said softly, your voice steady and full of certainty. “And nothing’s going to change that. Not a little soup, not anything.”

Azriel’s expression softened, the corners of his lips twitching into a faint smile. “I love you too,” he replied, his voice low but filled with the quiet strength that always made you feel safe. “More than anything.”

As the others began to regroup, offering more apologies and making sure you were comfortable, Azriel stayed by your side, his touch constant and reassuring. And as the evening slowly returned to its usual rhythm, you knew that no matter what happened, you and Azriel would always face it together—scars, shadows, and all.

[greynatomy]

too late

alexia putellas x reader

i know nothing about medical stuff except for the ones i’ve watched on grey’s anatomy

happy valentine’s day i guess

request here

———

The echoes of the heated argument lingered in the air as you paced around your living room. The tension between you and Alexia had reached a breaking point and you have no idea what to do next.

Alexia had left you alone in this big house — which isn’t really anything new — to god knows where. The trophies and medals that lined the shelves, displaying the accomplishments of your longtime partner, stares back at you like souvenirs.

Photographs covering the walls, showing the memories of the love she once held for you. Your fingers tracing the edges of the frame, heart heavy with doubt and sadness.

‘Where did I go wrong?’ You asked yourself.

That was almost three months ago. She had apologized and promised to make changes. The first week was a bliss. She’d wake you up with breakfast in bed, leaving breakfast in the kitchen when she had early training. Random dates throughout the week. You were living the dream.

Then, she won the world cup.

Interview after interview. Appearance after appearance. She was away more times than home. You don’t quite remember the last time you’d both slept in the same bed and woken up together.

—

It was Friday and you were in the kitchen waiting for Alexia to come home from training. You’ve cooked her favorite meal that Eli had taught you to make. You told her you had something to talk to her about so you hoped this meal could lighten the mood a bit.

Thirty minutes had passed so you thought she was just running a bit late.

Then an hour passed.

Another hour after that.

You’ve put away all of the food and prepared a plate for when she gets home to just reheat. Changing into your pajamas, you lounge around in the living room and check your phone. Right when you open up your social media, you were met with videos of your girlfriend and her team at a club.

You try to remember if Alexia had told you if she was going anywhere after practice, but she didn’t.

‘She probably just forgot.’

Hours later, Alexia came home to find you asleep on the couch. She stumbles into the bedroom and knocks out.

—

You’re at home in bed, staring into nothingness. You couldn’t do anything. At least not the things you used to be able to do. Even breathing became difficult.

Alexia was out so much she never noticed how much you’ve changed, how different you looked. She barely spared you a glance. When you do catch Alexia at home, she’s already asleep. You barely notice though because she’s been sleeping in the spare bedroom.

You slowly walk to the kitchen, steadying yourself against the walls. Grabbing a glass, you start to fill it with water when all of a sudden your vision starts going in and out.

Collapsing to the floor, darkness consumes you.

—

“Can I talk to you for a moment?” You ask as Alexia walked through the front door.

“I’m not even fully through the door and you’re already asking me to do things?”

“It won’t take long. It’s just something I have to tell—”

“Ay dios mío! I’m hungover and I just want to sleep. Talk to me tomorrow.”

Alexia walks away to the spare bedroom, knocking out instantly.

—

Alexia is at Mapi and Ingrid’s place with the rest of the team for team bonding. Alexia had an arm around one of Mapi’s friends that she invited over, the girl practically in her lap.

“Hey, Ale! Where’s the missus? Didn’t want to come today?” Mapi questions taking a seat next to Ingrid.

“Ooh, yeah! I miss Y/N, how is she doing?” Pina asks, the girl saw you as a big sister.

Alexia tenses, not knowing why. The girl on her shoves her arm off of her, moving to a different seat making Alexia frown in disappointment.

“Uh, she’s just at home probably. I don’t know?” She shrugs.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Mapi asks, eyebrows furrowed. “You were with her yesterday.”

“I was?” Alexia was confused because she definitely wasn’t. She was at some girl’s pla— her eyes widen. “I was! Yeah. She didn’t feel that well so she wanted to stay home. Yeah.”

Mapi and Ingrid share a look but drops the subject.

The team bonding became crazier that it was supposed to be. People were tipsy and Mapi was surprised they haven’t been yelled at by the neighbors yet.

“Alright.” Mapi stands up, catching everyone’s attention. “Me and Ingrid are going to run to the store, grab a couple things cause we’re running low.”

Everyone bid them goodbye, Ingrid following behind her girlfriend.

“We’re not running low on anything.” Ingrid states as Mapi starts driving.

“No, I just needed an excuse.”

“Excuse for what.”

“To check on Y/N.”

“She’s not home though. Told us herself.”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t hurt to check. And we both know damn well Ale wasn’t with her yesterday.”

Arriving to yours and Alexia’s house, they knock on the door. Not getting a response, they try again, no response.

“Hey, Y/N? Are you home? It’s Mapi and Ingrid.”

After a couple of minutes with no response, Mapi uses the spare key she was given a long time ago. Stepping inside, it was quiet. The place was clean, almost too clean. It didn’t look like someone had lived in the place at all with how clean it looked.

Walking further in, Ingrid looks into the kitchen, finding a glass shattered on the floor. Walking around the kitchen island was a sight she didn’t want to see.

“Oh my god, María!” She immediately lays you on your back, placing two fingers on your neck. “There’s no pulse! Call the ambulance!” She starts slapping your face lightly, hoping to wake you up. “C’mon, Y/N. Open those eyes for me.”

“Here. Move.” Mapi pushes Ingrid away, handing her the phone. “You call for them. Wake up, Y/N. Don’t go yet.” She starts CPR, tears start flowing from her eyes, some dripping onto your face. “C’mon! Just wake up, damn it!”

Mapi doesn’t know how long she’s been doing CPR, but paramedics rush into the house, taking over. Ingrid pulls her into her arms where they break down, missing the looks that the paramedics gave each other.

They drive close behind as the ambulance speeds through the streets of Barcelona. Arriving at the hospital, Ingrid doesn’t bother to turn the car off, rushing to where you were being unloaded.

“What do we got?” Doctors rush out to the ambulance.

The paramedics just give a look to the doctors who immediately understand.

“Time of death…”

“Wait! What do you mean time of death? She-she’s fine right?”

“What’s your relationship to…”

“Y/N.”

“Y/N. What’s your relationship to Y/N?”

“She’s my friend and I need to know what’s happened.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t give out any information, but I saw she has a wedding ring on. Can you contact her husband?”

“Wife. She has a wife.”

“Okay, can you contact her wife for us?”

Ingrid is the one to make the call. Mapi watches as they roll you inside the hospital.

“She’s on her way.”

Ten minutes later, Alexia arrives to the hospital, walking to where Ingrid and Mapi were now sitting at the waiting room.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know. They won’t tell us but they’ll tell you cause you’re her wife.”

“Y/N Putellas. I-I’m her wife and I need to see her.” Alexia asks, no demands when she goes up to the nurse’s counter.

“Mrs. Putellas. I can take you to her body.”

“Body? What-what do you mean body.”

“Just follow me.”

Walking into the room, a bed is seen in the middle of the room, a white sheet covering it.

“What’s this?”

Alexia walks up to the bed, hand hovering over the white sheet.

“Take your time.”

The nurse carefully pulls the top part of the white sheet to reveal someone — you.

“Oh my god.” Alexia gasps, not expecting to see you in this state. Mapi turns around in Ingrid’s hold, hiding her face in her chest, Ingrid also looking away. “What happened?”

“I can help with that.”

Turning towards the door, a doctor stood just outside.

“May I come in?” Not waiting for a response, he walks right in. He walks towards where your lay, staring at your features. “Mrs. Putellas lived longer than I expected.”

“Okay, can we stop being so criptic and just tell me what’s going on?” Alexia was losing patience. She has no clue what’s happening. She was having a great time and now she sees her wife lying dead right in front of her.

“Y/N Putellas, age twenty-eight, was diagnosed with stage four cancer three months ago. There was nothing that could be done as it was caught very late. All we could have done was make sure she was comfortable.”

“But she refused to be admitted into the hospital to make sure that she was still at home for her wife, no matter how much I protested.” A new voice was heard by the door. Your sister. “Her wife that leaves when she’s still sleeping. Her wife who would rather be out partying than notice how sick she was, fighting for her life. Her wife that doesn’t fucking love her!”

Your sister was now face to face with Alexia, finger stabbing her chest.

“No, no, no.” Alexia mumbles. “That- that’s not true. I love her. I do! Why didn’t she tell me?”

“She tried to.” Your sister stated, voice now void of emotion. “She tried and you brushed her off.”

“Why didn’t she tell me?” Mapi spoke up for the first time in a while.

“Because it didn’t feel important anymore after the many times that Alexia brushed it off.”

“She visited us just three days ago. She was fine.”

“She wasn’t. I think she knew she didn’t have much time left, so she had me drive her around so she can say her goodbyes.”

—

“Alright. Last house.” Your sister stated as she parked the car by the curb.

“Yeah.” You exit the car, slowly making your way to the front door. After knocking on the door, you take a step back. The door opens revealing Mapi.

“Hey, Y/N! What brings you by?”

“Uh, nothing. Is Ingrid here by any chance?”

“Yeah, let me call her. Ingrid!”

Ingrid stands next to Mapi.

“No need to shout. Hey, Y/N. What’s up?”

“Uh, well.” You clear your throat in anxiousness. “I’m gonna go somewhere in a couple of days and just wanted to see you both before I go.”

“Oh? Where are you going?”

“Just- just to take some time for myself.”

“Well, I hope you have fun wherever it is you’re going.”

You give them a smile. “Thank you.” As they were closing the door, you push it back open, wrapping your arms around Mapi tightly. Your breathing is ragged and you can feel the tears forming in your eyes. “You’re my best friend and you know that I love you right?”

Taken aback, she wraps her arms around you in return. “Yeah, you’re my best friend and I love you too.”

“You too Ingrid.” You now wrap your arms around her. “I’ll miss you both.” You step away, walking back down the driveway, giving them one last smile.

The couple don’t think much about the weird interaction, closing the door as they watched your car drive away.

—

Mapi and Ingrid broke down even more, now knowing that your goodbye was the goodbye.

“Tried to say goodbye to you too, but you were nowhere to be found.” You sister shrugged, getting tired of speaking to Alexia now.

“Why don’t you look depressed?”

“I’ve got to spend my time with her. I’ve had time to prepare for the inevitable.” Giving them all a face, she moves to stand where you laid. “I’m gonna talk to whoever about the arrangements and stuff, I’ll leave you guys alone.”

Seeing how Alexia was unable to take her eyes off of you, Mapi and Ingrid decide to give her some time, leaving the room and closing the door behind them. Now all along, Alexia hesitantly steps up next to your bed, hand hovering over yours.

In the dimly lit room, her voice shaky as she uttered, “I don’t even know where to begin. I don’t know if you can hear me, see me, but I never thought I’d see you like this. I never thought I’d hurt you like this.”

She grasps at your hand, squeezing it to stop the tears from streaming down her face.

“I’m too late. Too late. I never realized how good I had it and I see it now. You are— were the best part of me and I was too blind to see it. I took you for granted and I can’t apologize for it.”

The room remained silent, save for the soft hum of chatter outside. Alexia’s heart pounded, waiting for a response that she would never get. Bending down, she gives your forehead a kiss, letting her lips linger for just a moment.

“I’m sorry and I love you.” She whispered before exiting the room.

Arriving at home, Alexia’s emotions finally hit all at once. She couldn’t step any further away from the front door. She couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. The weight of her emotions become too much and the dam finally broke inside of her. Silent sobs racked her body as the vulnerability she had hidden so well crumbled away.

As the tears cascaded down her cheeks, memories of lost moments and shattered dreams replayed in her mind like a haunting film. Each drop carried the weight of unspoken words and broken promises, a wretched reminder of a love that once felt invincible.

The scars on her heart remained, the permanence of lost loves carved onto it, wondering how to face another day haunted by the ghosts of what could have been.

[justmebeingme94]

Title: Mutual Feelings 🩷

Synopsis: The reader is an actress who just finished up a romance movie project with the gorgeous and brilliant Aaron Pierre as her co-star. While filming, the production company booked an extravagant Airbnb for everyone's convenience near the movie set, which was in Miami, Florida. Filming wrapped up quicker than expected, which gave the cast and crew a few extra days to kill. Due to working so closely together, the reader and Aaron have built a strong friendship despite her initial crush on him; she grows to respect and admire him as a person and not just eye candy. However, unbeknownst to the reader, Aaron was lovestruck the moment they met. A night at the beautiful house leads to feelings being exposed and the heat rises between them. This is kind of a snippet so please let me know if I should finish it. Enjoy! 🥰

"You mean to tell me that you've never seen 'Don't Be A Menace'?", you asked, choking back a giggle. "No, y/n. I can't say that I have", Aaron replied in his thick deep British accent, playfully rolling his eyes. You and Aaron were chilling in the living room of the Airbnb, looking for movies to watch on the fire stick. Y'all sat on the exceptionally soft cream colored L-shaped couch with distance between you two while the lamp next to it gave the room a cozy feel. Freshly showered, you sported a baby pink crop top with grey sweat pants and baby pink ankle socks. Your knotless boho braids were draped over one shoulder as you clicked on the movie. Filming had wrapped and you and Aaron had a week to relax and enjoy the city as well as the house. The day involved the cast and crew doing their own thing while you and Aaron decided to go to the beach. You internally thanked the Lord for getting braids due to the humidity of Florida and not wanting to fool with it during filming. Had your hair been in any other predicament, any aquatic activity would be a hard no. Besides, there was NO way you'd miss out on the opportunity of seeing Aaron's shirtless chest and abs glistening in the Miami sun... After the beach, the plan was to check out some clubs in the area. However, you both were extremely tired, just wanting to grab a bite to eat and spend the evening indoors. After showering, y'all decided to Door Dash some Chinese food and watch movies. "That means we're gonna have to watch it", you said in a sing-song voice. He laughed and shrugged. You took a bite of your sweet and sour chicken as the opening credits played. You glanced over at Aaron, who was looking at you with a small smile. You couldn't help but notice how his black tank top clung to his chest and abs while the print in his black shorts taunted and teased you. You licked your lips and readjusted on the couch, a look of anticipation on your face. You hate to admit it, but his eyes was something that you could never get used to. They were piercing. Intense. Hell, they were intimidating. And it didn't help that his newly bronzed sun tanned skin made them even more striking. "What?" You asked. "Nothing. Just...I enjoy spending time with you", he said sincerely. Your heart fluttered. "Awww Aaron, me too. I just hope that when we leave, we stay in contact", you replied. You loved the bond that you and Aaron built in the past 6 months. It wasn't just an ordinary cordial relationship between colleagues; it was rare and real. You'd grown to care for and respect the man that Aaron was. For an example, you noticed on set during food breaks that he would make sure the whole cast and crew had eaten before he would fix his plate. Or how he would make each individual feel like the most important person in the room just from engaging and speaking with him. He was all-around perfect. And as amazing as he was, you knew you didn't want that bond between you two to fade away. You looked down bashfully, tearing your gaze away from Aaron's handsome face and continued watching the movie.

****4 Hours Later****

"Okay...never have I ever....went skydiving", you slurred. Y'all decided that after the movie, a game of Never Have I Ever and some liquor would be lit. Aaron decided to put on an early 2000's R&B playlist to keep the atmosphere light and fun. "Shoot, me neither sweetheart", he replied, laughing. You both toasted a shot of Hennessy and chugged it. You immediately chased it with apple juice, hating the way it burned your throat. Aaron, being a man's man after all, hissed as it went down but didn't chase it. Being the lightweight that you are, you had only done 3 shots but they made you tipsy immediately. Aaron, on the other hand, had reached 5 before the alcohol kicked in for him. Aaron poured up another shot for you both while you let the last shot settle in your stomach. "Let's take it up a notch, darling. We've been playing it safe all night", he proclaimed, slamming the shot glass on the coffee table. The alcohol definitely had him feeling himself. You look at him suspiciously, smirking. "How so?" He cleared his throat and said, "Never have I ever....made out in the rain. Soaking wet, bodies glued together, hands all over each other, not giving a damn who sees us", He said slowly, watching your next move. He knew EXACTLY what he was doing to you too. All of a sudden, your face got extremely hot, as well as other parts of you...you were speechless! Your mouth was agape, and you clenched your legs together discretely. You took the shot quickly, not even bothering to chase it this time; your mind was on other things. Aaron, reading your reaction wrong, immediately regretted saying that. "I apologize, Y/N. Did I make you feel uncomfortable?" "Oh no no no HELL no", you replied while shaking your head fast, making him chuckle. "You just caught me off guard. I've never kissed in the rain before, but I'd be up for it...", you replied, the liquor making you more bold and flirtatious. You start inching closer to Aaron while still maintaining some distance (and teasing him in the process). "Never have I ever...got freaky on a ferris wheel. Kissing and touching, 3rd base activities, praying to God that you remain stuck at the top long enough to make them lose control", you purred, sexily sizing him up. He licked his lips and took another shot, eyeing you hungrily. It was his turn to scoot towards you. "Alright. Never have I ever got to kiss you", his voice dangerously low and oozing with sex. No one drank this round. "And never have I ever got a chance to kiss you back", you replied. You scooted so close to him that you were in his face at this point. "Fuck the bullshit", he said in a husky voice. Before you could respond, he kissed you passionately, his big hands grabbing and squeezing your waist and hips. You moaned in his mouth, loving how you tasted the Hennessy on his sweet lips. Your arms wrapped around his neck, mentally preparing for what's about to go down tonight. He then pulled you on his lap, straddling him. (To be continued) More to come 😉

[daycourtofficial]

Hell was the journey but it brought me Heaven

Pairing: Eris x Rhysand’s sister!reader | WC: 1.9k | warnings: blood, gore

Summary: in the immediate moments following Beron’s death, Eris is determined to see to the needs of his court. His mate insists he takes a few moments to himself and bathe.

Note: this is a part of my gingerfucker series. The events of this fic follow in the immediate aftermath of ‘Cold was the steel of my axe to grind’

Author’s note: happy day 3 of @erisweekofficial !!

The sun had set, but just barely so. Your chest thrummed with the mating bond, but it felt different somehow, as if the new power radiating off of him leached into you.

The dawn of a new court.

You could feel that heaviness settling over your mate. The expectations, the guilt, the reservations. You didn’t know if the news had spread yet - to the outskirts of Autumn, to the other courts, to Rhysand. How did Rhys feel, now that Beron was dead? Did it change anything?

Eris looked different now. Exhausted, yes, but not the way you had come to know. As if the world had finally rolled off his shoulders to become someone else’s problem. He was radiating so much heat it was nearly impossible to stand too close to him.

Marigold and her sons had taken Flint’s body, moving him down into the cellars so they could clean and prepare his body for mourning. Eris had been upset that you had refused to allow him to go with them, using your body as a shield anytime you thought he might turn around and run.

“Er, you have to change. You have to be less bloody.”

Eris was unfazed at your words, annoyance in his chest at not seeing Flint’s body any longer. He’d get over it eventually.

You led him through the halls of the Forest House - once an immaculate display of wealth, not a speck of dirt or dust to be seen, now was a state of chaos. Broken chairs, overturned shelves, ransacked armoires. It was chaos incarnate - which made the site of Eris’s chambers even more startling.

They were pristine, the ward still effective at repelling anyone from entrance. It felt too clean. Everything had changed since this morning when Eris’s neurotic movements woke you. The only disturbance in the room was the unmade bed from when you had gotten up, as if the occupant had just gone about their day to day life.

Prythian has changed, your life has changed. But this room stayed the same in spite of it. Something about the room sobered Eris up, pulling him from his trance, as if the walls echoed with an itinerary.

“There is so much to do - advisors to speak with, we must send word that Beron has fallen-”

Your hand on his forearm gave him pause. “You may take a bath, High Lord.”

His mind quiets at the title - you were the first to officially call him by it.

High Lord of the Autumn Court.

Not merely a dream anymore. He had never played with the words before, never practiced how they felt on his tongue. It felt too much like a jinx, a childish superstition he couldn’t seem to shake. The name coming from your lips felt incredible, but it didn’t make him swell with pride the way the word ‘mate’ does.

“Sit, Er.”

Your hand pressed against his chest, right where an etching of a leaf adorned the armor. He sat on the edge of the chair, his muscles tensing and then immediately relaxing as they found the first sign of rest in hours. Eris felt unsteady in the chair, as if the furniture couldn’t hold the weight of all that he had done.

You knelt before him, quietly removing each plate, undoing each tie and gently laying the copper colored armor down beside you. He sighed at the relief, unaware or unfeeling of how tight each plate had been on his skin, the leather straps leaving indents in his skin.

Your movements were slow and deliberate, peeling each section of armor off as if it were glass fused to his skin. Each piece removed allowed for parts of him now visible, despite the layers of clothes, to be met by your fingers. You spent several minutes on each of his limbs, your fingers making slow, deep movements into the skin, as if you could reach to the bone and heal him.

He groaned at the ministrations, his body growing weary and aging as you sat before him. This night alone aged him a century it seemed. Despite his desires to rest, his body was buzzing with energy. It felt nearly impossible to sit still, as if every piece of his body were being removed and replaced with a newer, better version.

You slowly removed his gambeson - a deep green fabric that cushioned his chest from any harsh blows to his armor. You reached for the hem of the tunic beneath, pulling it over his head as he raised his arms. His skin was untouched beneath it, not a single bruise littering his pale chest. Removing the garb made his skin even warmer - you were practically sweating being near to him.

Your fingers moved lightly down his chest, making a jagged line tracing from mole to freckles as you slid down his torso toward his pants - you slowly pulled them down his legs, watching his face for any reaction. Once the pants reached his ankles, you tapped each ankle so he’d lift his feet, allowing you to move the pants away.

The armor did an incredible job at protecting his body - the only part of him that showed any hint of what happened today were his hands and his face. Maybe the new powers thrumming through him saw to his injuries.

You moved toward the bathroom, turning on the faucet for the tub before returning to your mate. He hadn’t moved, staying completely still, undeterred by his naked state.

“Eris, you need to take a bath.”

His head turned to you, a lethargic movement that offered no grace you had come to associate with Eris. You reached out a hand for him, hissing at the contact of his skin, but not letting go. You led him to the bath, which had filled in the slowness of his movements.

The bath was dark, the entire room devoid of light, Eris’s powers too drained to light it. No matchsticks laid anywhere in the Forest House - why would they? The bathtub was a dark pool of water, inviting the new High Lord as you led Eris into the water, stabilizing his arms as he put his legs in before sitting down. The water was cold, a shock to his nerves that had him suck in a breath through his teeth.

The cold sank into Eris’s bones, as if this bath was a renewal. He let himself slip beneath the water, everything so dark he finally felt free to let through the scream that had been building in his lungs. Becoming High Lord rewrote his entire body, every cell within him changed, but it was this bath that felt like the birth.

A liminal space. He was stuck in the in-between. Beneath the surface of the water, he was still in the before. Some part of him knew once he came back up, everything would be different.

His blood was boiling inside him, unsure how his organs weren’t being roasted from within. His scream echoed through the tub, emitting so much heat he was surprised he wasn’t on fire at this point. He was sure the water was boiling, the pain in his body almost too much to bear.

Until he came up for air. The second his head hit the surface, the screaming stopped. The pain stopped. He was glowing in that dark room, a deep blue color blinding in the darkness.

Blue flames burn the hottest.

Eris turned to find you moving about the bathing chamber, his entire existential crisis unnoticed by you. You were silent as you moved about the bathing chamber, grabbing all the necessary products and towels before returning. You checked the water, pulling your hand away quickly at how hot it was.

He watched as you quietly drained the water, allowing the first coat of grime and heat to be washed away down the drain before refilling the tub, your mate staying still the entire time.

With the tub refilled, you grabbed a cloth and gently began working it across his skin, inspecting him as you moved. His skin began growing cooler, the water and rags you used to clean him grounding him.

He was Autumn’s new High Lord, but he was still Eris, still your mate.

You hummed as you worked, a song the trees had been singing earlier that night. He smiled as his accompanying hum startled you, filling in the gaps of the song where your harmony laid.

He felt reborn, a lightness surging through him as if the Mother herself were giving him new life.

Before you could drain his second bath, before the two of you had to face the consequences of the past twelve hours, he shot his hand out, circling your wrist. There were a million things to consider - a coronation, official statements, word to the other courts, the family all being on the same page about what to say publicly. It would all wait.

“Thank you.”

A gentle smile was all he got in return, as well as a sharp tug on the bond between them. A million questions circled his mind, only realizing as you brought him back into his chambers that you were wearing a servant’s uniform.

What had the day brought you? Or, Eris corrects, what had you brought to this day? His beautiful mate, his equal in every way. Two sly foxes, except you never wanted the predatory title to be attached to you, always preferring to be false prey.

Gods help the fools who underestimate the two of you.

He searched through his wardrobe, finding exactly what he wanted: a bloodred jacket, the collar raised made his jaw look like a knife.

Now was not the time to appear too soft. The most turbulent time in a High Lord’s position is the first few weeks, and while he ached to just come out and say he intends to be different, he couldn’t in good conscious risk the people of Autumn like that. He intended to prove that he was different.

But to do that, he has to first appear strong.

He found a white shirt, quickly throwing it on before hopping into a pair of dark brown trousers, tucking the shirt in. He didn’t have time for a corset, opting for a red vest with gold embroidery instead.

After lacing his boots, he sat up in the chair ready to go, but your fingers in his hair stopped him. He felt you put the crown atop his head - he hadn’t even realized you had pulled it off - the thing practically sinking back into Eris’s skin, happy to be reunited with its master.

Eris stood up, the crown and regalia reminding him of who he was. It was like Eris had been underwater the whole day, stuck in a trance, only now coming up for air, the question slipping from him without his intention.

“Why are you in servant’s clothes?”

“I will tell you all about it once you return.”

The new powers coursing through his veins reinvigorated him, while you felt yourself crashing with each passing moment.

He nodded, knowing full well whenever he returned you’d likely be asleep, tucked away in his bed chambers. The thought pulled a smile from him as he bent down, placing a kiss on your lips.

It was soft and sweet, full of a promise he knew he could make: I’ll be back.

Millions and millions of small decisions had brought him here, to a life he never thought possible. He stood on the precipice of his future, looking out over the edge, no idea of what was to come. With his first step from his chambers, he walked off, trusting for once that everything had a way of working out.

One cannot appreciate Heaven without having lived through Hell.

Divider by @tsunami-of-tears 🫶🏻

Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen @durgenyx @dee-writes-smut @chairofchaos @thelov3lybookworm @berryzxx @throneofsmut @kennedy-brooke @prythianpages @itsswritten @acotarxreader @milswrites @the-golden-jhope @hannzoaks @secretlyhers @tothestarsandwhateverend @sarawritestories @chxosangxl

Eris taglist: @magicstrengthandcourage @book-obsessed124

[skele-bunny]

Thinking about Daddy Kink Dew/Phantom again...

I'm so insane about them.....

CW for daddy kink and "baby boy"/"Daddy's good boy" used, spanking

(but this is NOT DD/LB that is a no go for me. I just like the name usage)

Super long post!

It was a joke when Phantom used it first, the entire pack cuddled in the common room when Dew came out holding plates with the help of Mountain.

"Don't be up too late tonight, we have practice in the morning."

Phantom had just chirped, thanking him and he's gotten a little sassy thanks to Swiss and Rain! "Yeah, yeah, whatever you say dad."

"See? It's things like that, that makes me think you're a dumb kit."

"Oh, sorry, lemme- wha'ever say daddy." He's mocking a baby voice, flicking Dew off while munching on his garlic bread with such a shit eating grin.

Swiss is losing his shit, the girls giggling in return. But Dew? He's just staring at Phantom before he scoffs, waving his hand away as he goes to his room to eat in silence.

Second time, Dew is yelling about something in the practice room. Something-something-cant find the strings he put away.

"You aren't being helpful right now!" Dew just hisses at Aurora.

Phantom, again, "Careful Rory! Daddy ang'y."

Once again laughter but now Dew is just hard fucking glaring Phantom, to the point the newly summon just slowly shrinks and hides behind Swiss. He and Dew don't talk the entire practice anymore, but Phantom can feel the glare and burning eyes. They're worried they honestly upset Dew, but too nervous to say anything with the potential he may be angry at them.

It's when they get back to the den, Phantom slinking to his room, going to close the door before it's caught and Dew pushes his way in, locking it and grabbing Phantom by his collar.

"Think you're fucking funny, huh?"

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I was just trying to play! I'm sorry!"

Poor bat can only yelp as he's forced onto the bed, feeling Dew bite his bond mark and keep his wrists down. "Pissing me off every fucking time you open your mouth." Goes right up to his ear, voice low. "Guess daddy needs to teach respect again, doesn't he?"

Oh....

Oh.

Phantom just shivers, his face already so warm with blush it doesn't help that Dew is literally heating up. Dew goes straight to his hair, yanking their head back and slowly starts grinding on their uniform pants. The sheer amount of force Dewdrop uses to yank Phantom's clothes off is insane, then moving the quint over his lap. There's one hand on Phantom's neck to keep him down, the other slowly rubbing over Phantom's curved ass. Dew hasn't stop growling the entire time, his body heat practically making Phantom get a sun tan if it could.

"I'm sorry, Dew, I-"

SMACK!

"What was that?"

"I-I said I'm sorry Dew!"

SMACK! SMACK!

The hand holding his neck squeezes, Dew just smiling so wide and Phantom can feel his chubbed cock against his stomach.

"I'll give you one last chance, Phantom. What did you say?"

Their breath is shaking, tail around their thigh. "I'm sorry..." He can feel Dew's hand twitch on his ass. "...Daddy."

"There we go."

The fire ghoul just rubbing his hand over Phantom's ass again before finally stopping his growls. He brings his hand back and another impact is made, Phantom yelling as more and more are brought down. His claws are digging into Dew's pants, tears streaming but his cunt is getting wetter by the second. The position is so... Embarrassing, exposing. Here he is literally being spanked like a rowdy kit. It's ridiculous!

"Do you know how long I've waited to do this to you? Huh?" Dew is purring now. "Bend you over my lap and spank that attitude out? Everyone's been an awful influence on you lately... You're not my good boy anymore."

"I... I am! I'm a good boy..."

Dew shakes his head, fingers massaging into the red handprints he left. "Tsk, no... You're not! But that's my fault, isn't it? I've neglected you. Let you get away with too much."

Phantom just keens, his ears twitching as the hand on his neck let's go and he's adjusted again, now his back to Dew's chest. Their legs are forced open by his arms, one hand grabbing his tit, the other quickly rubbing his clit.

"Daddy will get you back in shape, don't you worry, baby boy."

The voidling is a mess, feeling Dew pinch his nipple while circling that sensitive bundle of nerves. He can feel Dew sucking on their neck, Phantom's moans vibrating on Dew's lips, his hands never once stopping--even as Phantom tilts his head back with a loud cry, thighs shaking as he squirts on both Dew's lap and reaching the floor. Yet... Dew doesn't stop his fingers.

Rather, the pack leader keeps going. He's at the same pace, but the hand on his chest moves down to his cunt as well, finger fucking him too. Their wings are fluttering, pushing against Dew as much as they can, moans free falling as their body racks with shivers and pleasure.

He doesn't know how long it goes own for, or how many times he's came (enough for Dew's lap to be a small puddle), but now it's gotten to oversensitivity and borderline painful.

"Daddy- Daddy, please! I can't- I can't cum anymore-"

"Awhh, just two more, baby. Don't you wanna be daddy's good boy?" Dew is whining, nipping Phantom's jaw.

"Please."

His attempt to plead is ignored as another orgasm is forced out, but Dew's hands are moved away which Phantom's body is grateful for. His fingers are covered in slick and cum, sticky and white as he brings one hand to Phantom's mouth and the other to his. They open obediently and licking at their own mess, sucking Dew's fingers clean with another whine.

Once Dew pulls his hand away and is satisfied with the cleanup, he rolls them over, Phantom pressed down in the bed. He can hear Dew undressing himself and only moving back to shake his pants off. He's right on top of them again, kissing and licking up Phantom's back before pushing in, and those purrs are back to growls.

"Always so fucking tight."

Poor bat is crying again, eyes rolling back as he adjusts to Dew, his cunt welcoming him despite the strain. His moans are so choppy, high pitched little un-un-un, but occasionally he'll slip out a "da-ddyyyy-" in between. They're fucked with little to no care, Dew's claws dug into their hips and chasing his own orgasm.

Another slap against Phantom's ass makes him howl, lifting his head some while Dew's voice rings out again. "You're gonna be good for daddy from now on, aren't you?"

When he can't respond, the hand goes to his hair and lifts, Dew hissing in his ear. "Aren't you?!"

"Yes!!" God, his poor cunt is tired yet yearning for more. "Yes, yes daddy! Gonna be good for daddy forever!!"

His ear is nipped at, and he's shoved back down. Dew loses any control he had, just railing into Phantom's tight and slick heat like a rabid ghoul in a rut. His knot latching and dragging Phantom back, hand against the arch his spine is in.

Just like before, another orgasm is ripped through Phantom once Dew's knot locks in, sobbing as his mate is rutting against him before it pops, flooding his insides with more warmth. They dead weight, Dew following with a tight grip still. He nuzzles himself against Phantom's sweaty neck, inhaling his scent and catching his breath.

"Gonna be daddy's good boy..." He gives another hump and Phantom can't even open his eyes again. "So fucking delicious, baby."

Phantom is covered in marks and the whole damn pack has heard him, but doesn't dare say a word as Dew is lingering right next to him; Petting through his hair and whispering sweetly to him. The leader moves for just a second and comes back with a sandwich, Phantom sitting on his lap and absentmindedly purring.

"Open."

A little 'ahh' and Phantom bites down, his tail wagging and nuzzling into Dew's shoulder. "Thank you, daddy."

Dew has the biggest shit eating grin, kissing Phantom's cheek before he hold the food up once more.

[sixosix]

I DON'T WANNA HURT YOU (I JUST WANNA BE) | LYNEY

warnings 3.5k words, vague descriptions of wounds, lyney crushing already, cesar appearance:(

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“This is crazy,” Lyney whispers frantically as they stumble over their steps, eyes wide and darting all over the place. “This is insane.”

“Lyney,” his sister whispers sharply, “she can hear you.”

Lyney swallows and steals a quick glance at The Knave, yet she’s staring ahead. But with Lynette’s words, Lyney notices that she’s gotten a bit closer than before. She was listening. Not that Lyney really cared.

Lyney tightens his grip on Lynette's hand as they advance further inside. He shudders at the scathing feeling of numerous curious eyes on him, uneasy about the idea of those gazes focusing on his sister. Though he can't see her while she's hiding behind him, he senses that she has tucked her ears and tail.

“A bond stronger and thicker than blood.” Lyney blinks and realizes that The Knave has been talking to him this entire time. She doesn’t quite smile, but it’s something close as she lays her hand atop their heads. “You’ll find a family here, Lyney, Lynette. From this day forth, you’re my children, and I, your ‘Father’.” With the claws of her hands in Lyney’s view, he feels as if that’s more threatening than a promise, yet Lyney feels warm all the same.

As ‘Father’ signals for Lynette to step forward and introduce herself, Lyney remains steadfast and refuses to loosen his grip on her wrist. He scans the crowd and feels like he’s looking at mirrors—orphans staring back at him, all of whom have been compelled to build a new and found family. Someone among them waves. Lyney takes a moment to collect his thoughts before reluctantly waving back.

And then he meets your gaze. Your cold and hateful gaze.

Lyney doesn’t know what he did for you to look at him in such a way. His heart skips a beat or two, enchanted. He wants to ask, but as soon as ‘Father’ asks him to tell everyone who he is next, you have turned away and walked off, disappearing into the long hallways. Lyney’s eyes never leave your figure until you’re completely out of sight.

“Lyney,” he says, hopefully loud and confident enough for it to reach your ears. It most likely wouldn’t.

As ‘Father’ dismisses the crowd and declares her leave, Lyney guides his sister over to the other orphans, their hands clasped together. They navigate the unfamiliar surroundings, their gazes and steps wandering.

The warmth envelops him, akin to stepping into a hot shower after being left out freezing in a rainstorm. It’s been too long since he experienced that—his recollections are filled with images of his shivering form, attempting desperately to share heat with his sister, whose lips are blue and trembling. The sensation is a distant memory. It's been too long since he last felt this way.

“Who was that who left just now?” Lyney asks.

The kid is sitting criss-cross apple sauce on the floor, a plate by his feet. He picks at his food. “Hm?”

Lyney points in the direction you’ve stormed off to.

The boy snorts as he follows Lyney’s gaze. “That was Y/N. Everyone knows who she is.”

We literally have just arrived, Lyney wants to snap, but he sees no point in picking fights when ‘Father’ has just promised a bond stronger than blood or whatever. There would be no bond to match what he has with his sister—he’s sure of it.

“And…? Why did she leave?” Lyney questions slowly. He watches the kid slurp the soup until it’s empty and clean and feels his stomach growl quietly in envy.

“No one knows,” he says halfheartedly. “It’s not worth the trouble. Provoking a confrontation with Y/N is signing up for a beating, and you wouldn’t want ‘Father’ to single you out when she’s the standard. Stick with your sister.” The boy sounds terribly bitter, as if having experienced it first-hand.

“Right.” Lyney has no idea what any of that means, but his pulse thrums, excited at the prospect of a mystery.

His sister fidgets beside him. Lynette eyes Lyney warily as if reading his thoughts. Don’t cause trouble, Lyney could hear her telepathically. I wouldn’t dare, Lyney communicates with his smile.

Lyney thinks he can never be as brave as you. He wonders how you manage to stand alongside ‘Father’ so frequently and maintain such composure—looking as if that’s exactly where you belong.

You look more like a soldier than an orphan, Lyney thinks. It’s beautiful in all the wrong ways.

While he diligently enjoys his homemade warm breakfast (it’s already his second plate), Lyney poses some very crucial questions to a new friend.

His name is Freminet. He jumped out of his seat when Lyney tapped him on the shoulder as a greeting, and he said he was expecting Lyney to get annoyed by his reluctance to speak, but all Lyney told him was that he was used to his sister already. Freminet warms up to them after. Well, mostly Lynette, but befriending her means would mean you should expect her brother as well.

Lunch ended, then came a new routine Lyney had to familiarize himself with.

“Where is she going?” Lyney asks in a murmur, eyes chasing your footsteps. The other orphans remain seated while you were the first to scurry off, foregoing the attempt to clean your plate. Were you so important to be able to do that?

“To train,” Freminet says simply, his eyes glued to stacking porcelain plates. He slides the chair back and heads to the kitchen.

Lyney follows after him with glasses in hand. “To train?”

Freminet nods. “We should follow. Is Lynette…?

Lyney glances off to the side, an unbidden smile tugging his lips as he sees Lynette curled up on the couch by the fireplace, eyes shut and body language relaxed. Like a cat hoarding a warm window. “I’ll get her.”

As much as it pains him to interrupt his sister’s sleep, he doesn’t know what ‘Father’ will do were they to miss a routine in the House of the Hearth. He doesn’t want to risk finding out, either.

She grumbles and sends him a biting glare but obliges all the same. They tail after Freminet.

You reemerge back into view, a weapon on your side, your face serious.

The other orphans head to the side and come back with different kinds of weapons. Lyney’s eyes bulged out of their sockets when small Freminet pads over to them with a great sword twice his size. A claymore, Freminet said, unbothered as he practically dragged his weapon around.

“This is crazy,” Lyney whispers to his sister again, who jabs his ribs with her elbow.

Lyney has never touched a weapon in his life. A butter knife here and there to cut bread nice people give him, but that is nothing compared to the long one you’re carrying. Freminet gestures to the corner of the room where it lays a chest cracked open, heaped with rusty weapons.

Unfortunately, Lyney doesn’t see any more of the weapon similar to yours. Lynette eyes the sword with muted interest, so Lyney takes the other weapon available.

He’s familiar with a bow and arrow; he’s seen how people wield them from afar and in plays. That doesn’t make it any easier when he has to hold it in his tiny hands. Lyney feels his muscles strain as he pulls, wincing at the ache that unfurls in his arms. Lynette clumsily swings around with her sword.

He cranes his neck to observe the other kids sparring, stumbling when his gaze wanders, catching you looking at him. There’s a smile on your face, but it’s not a kind one. You chuckle under your breath, then turn away.

Lyney doesn’t know what comes over him. One second, he’s at the corner of the room; the next, he’s forcing himself into your view.

You’re prettier up close. Lyney nearly misses his lines.

“I’m Lyney,” he says, face pinched with a seriousness that hopefully he conveys well to fight the blush threatening to creep up.

“I know,” you say, fixing him with a blank stare. “You saw me when ‘Father’ introduced you.”

“Do you think you can teach me?” Lyney then shows his chosen weapon as if he’s offering it to you.

You appraise him for a silent moment. Lyney shuffles on his feet. “I don’t like bow users.”

The statement hangs in the air awkwardly, with Lyney unsure of what to make of that.

“Lyney,” a soft voice calls after him. He turns and sees Lynette looking at you and her brother. “Hello.” She waves shyly at you.

“Hi.” You don’t quite smile, but Lyney feels it there. He realizes you resemble Father’s attitude quite a bit, just a ghost of it, never visible when genuine. ���Lynette, right? How’s the sword?”

Lynette takes a moment to answer as if unsure what to respond to that with. “I like it.” Her gaze flits to Lyney, curious. “What’s wrong?”

Lyney feels caught, for some reason. “I just introduced myself.”

“Should you need it, seek me out if you want me to train you,” you tell Lynette, staring right ahead. Lyney feels as if he’s older than you, yet the way you carry yourself has him feeling young and small, a fawn prancing around a tiger.

You must have seen whatever face Lyney is making. “A bow is further off from a polearm than a sword; it’s nothing personal.” But the sickly sweet smile you flash at him feels very personal. However, instead of feeling miffed by this bold start of war, Lyney feels himself grinning.

“So you’re not good at every weapon?”

You start walking. “Astute observation for someone who isn’t good at any weapon.”

He trails after your steps with ease. “Hey, have we met before?”

“No.”

“You’re not acting like it’s a ‘no’.”

“Will you please let me train in peace?”

“Only if you agree to make me your sparring partner.”

You pause, sizing him up. Lyney attempts to hold a straight posture, but he noticeably deflates when you unleash a mocking laugh. “Surely you’re aware how idiotic of a request that is?”

Lyney then realizes the whole room is pin-drop silent, watching with bated breath for Lyney’s next move. And he is, of course, nothing but a performer.

“The harder the challenge to overcome, the greater the benefits to reap,” Lyney says with full-body confidence. Lynette snorts quietly because he stole it from a children’s book they found in a dump.

“A challenge,” you murmur, head tilted. “Is that why you look at me so strangely? You see me as a challenge?”

Lyney has no idea how he looks at you. “Uhm, yes?”

You seem satisfied with the answer, though. You roll your shoulders back and nod. “Very well.” Jeez, do you always talk like that? “I will be your sparring partner.”

Lyney babbles in confusion when you start walking further away before whipping around and pointing the tip of your polearm in his direction. “Try to land a hit on me. Do your worst.”

Long-distance is a bow user’s advantage. “Are you sure?”

You narrow your eyes fiercely. Lyney blinks and fumbles with the weapon in his hands. It’s begun to feel heavy now that he’s acknowledged its presence. He screws one eye shut and aims right for your head, then watches in awe as your polearm spins in a perfect circle and deflects his arrow.

“Again,” you demand, unbothered.

You are so cool.

Lyney tries again, unsurprised when he fails. But you swipe at your weapon this time, batting off his arrow as if an annoying fly. He tries once more, realizing belatedly that with each flimsy shot, you’ve been moving closer and closer.

His breath catches in his throat when you press the tip of your dull spear inches away from his nose.

“You’ve got guts to face me head-on,” you say, poking his skin, “but you’re new, so I can’t praise you for your naivety.”

He blinks. “I wasn’t—”

“Here, in the House, you prove your worth. Loyalty is your worth. How can you prove your loyalty if you can’t even live up to your words?” He releases a heavy breath when you lower your weapon, standing idle by your side. Goosebumps blossom on his arms. “Overcome me if you see me as a challenge.”

Lyney doesn’t know how to say that he sees you as a person. He’s breathless, in cold sweat—and he might be a little in love.

Lynette has become more adept with her sword under your guidance. Lyney can’t quite get the arrow to where he wants it to go, but his grip has been getting firmer—more sure and confident. He is still too far off from beating you, however.

But that’s not all that they’ve been practicing. Months have passed, and they must master other important skills if they are going to prove their worth.

Whenever they can, he and his sister sneak off to meet up with a talented individual that was kind enough to lend his knowledge to them. He’s caring and doesn’t push when they don’t answer honestly—exactly who they need, considering their identities.

Cesar pats his head, “What’s got you so distracted, bud?”

Lyney blinks up at him, schooling his expression carefully. “I was just thinking about a new trick I want to polish.”

“Hmm.” Cesar studies his face. Lyney feels a little uncomfortable. Can master magicians like him read minds? Will Cesar look into Lyney’s and ask about who it is? “You know, the more you try to cover something, the more it’s likely to show up.”

Lyney flushes down to his neck. “Um.”

“Did you meet someone you like?” Cesar grins, kneeling down to his eye level. “It’s okay. I won’t tell your sister if you want to. Though she probably knows already, that smart lady.”

Lyney shakes his head rapidly, hands waving all over to hide his unguarded expression. “There’s nothing to tell!”

Lyney wasn’t lying: there’s really nothing. He hasn’t made any progress with you. You look at him as if you see a scrap of paper, and Lyney should really back off and move on, but he likes the expressions you give him when he speaks to you either way, scrunching in annoyance or grinning in a way that makes his heart dance with fear and anticipation. It feels more human compared to when you stand across him with the air of a seasoned warrior.

“You’re a good kid,” Cesar says, toppling Lyney’s top hat over when he ruffles his hair. “And you’re going to grow up and become a wonderful magician. You will meet all kinds of people with your talent; don’t be afraid to let them in.”

This is a bit sudden. Nonetheless, Lyney dips his head in a nod.

“Lyney,” Lynette calls out, peering from the dove snug in her palm. “It’s sunset.”

“Right.” ‘Father’ is returning, and Lyney and Lynette are finally privy to a dangerous mission for the first time together. He looks back up at Cesar, who has this distant look in his eye that matches his smile. “Master, thank you for all your guidance. We will never forget all you’ve done for us.”

Lynette rises from where she’s been kneeling, bowing along with her brother. “Thank you.”

Cesar laughs heartily. “Just look for me if you kids ever need anything else apart from magic tricks, alright?”

Lyney and Lynette don’t doubt it, but they don’t need to trouble Cesar with their problems. As Fatui, they must uphold their sworn secrecy, no matter how kind and understanding Cesar would be.

“We should head back,” Lyney says. Her hair has been whipping around her face for far too long, hindering her actions during their missions. Lyney can’t really tuck them behind her…ears, so he reminds himself to buy some hairclips for her. “I don’t want to miss dessert.”

“You should try tying your hair,” Lyney says, sighing when a stray strand flicks her in the eye. “And yes, let’s head back. ‘Father’ will be assigning us to a new mission, right?”

Lynette has a delicate skip in her steps, and Lyney is content with the conclusion of a successful mission. Yet the air feels stifling when they arrive. ‘Father’ is nowhere in sight, and there’s a crowd of orphans huddled by the sofa, a first aid kit littered by the coffee table.

Bewildered, Lyney taps one of their shoulders and asks, “What happened?”

The girl farthest to the scene and closest to the twins sighs. “Y/N snuck out to a mission not meant for her. And, well, you can assume how that went.”

Lyney’s heart sinks to his stomach. “What?”

“See for yourself,” she says, pushing Lyney and Lynette to weave through the cluster of murmuring people.

Then, he notices you—your face contorted in a scowl, your body swathed in bandages. Lyney’s eyes catch it swiftly: the burns of your skin and the wince that flickers in your expression when someone gets a little too close.

“Everyone, please return to the dining hall,” Lyney says before he can even think about it. “Space!”

They don’t move, but they pause to look at Lyney. His jaw ticks. So they can rush to gossip but not direct orders?

“Now!” he barks out, gesturing to the other room. They follow, albeit unsurely, as their stares linger. The whispers subside as they do, birthing an upsetting silence that has Lyney running a hand through his face as you stare at the twins warily.

Lynette nudges Lyney, murmuring, “I’ll look for Freminet. Unless you want me to stay?”

Lyney nods, meeting Lynette’s eye. “Don’t worry.”

Your expression clears when Lynette shuts the door softly behind her. Lyney sits on the armrest and lets his eyes rake over your wounds, studying them. They all look nearly fatal, but they look as if Lyney and Lynette have come too late—no longer fresh, leaving an unpleasant taste on his tongue. What would’ve happened if you were not treated quickly?

You glower at him. “I don’t want to hear it.”

Lyney keeps his face carefully blank. “I just wanted to tell you that I’ll still be requesting sparring sessions after you’ve healed.”

Your stare became incredulous, but anything is better than the wounded look on your face when the orphans fret over you. “Fine.”

He isn’t even certain if you want him close. What hangs on his back is a bright Pyro vision, the same element that has seared your skin. If it were him, he’d be wary of himself.

“Why did you do it?” he asks quietly.

Your reply takes a while as if you debated with yourself whether you can trust Lyney or not. Luckily for him, you come to the right conclusion. “I don’t have a Vision. I don’t have the ‘potential’. They all said—Father said I could be the next director, but I don’t feel worthy.” You look back up at him. “I don’t think you would understand—”

“You wanted to prove yourself,” he finishes.

Your forehead creases, face shattering at the reminder of your mistake. Missions as perilous as these are meant for Vision users for good reasons. Regardless of someone’s skill with a weapon, it becomes an uneven playing field when there are circumstances that affect those without Visions, or even when facing enemies as highly trained as you yet have the advantage of using their elements with their surroundings to their advantage. Most of the time, those without Visions who take on missions meant not for them don’t make it out alive.

Had Lyney not received his Vision on the day he needed it, he and Lynette wouldn’t have survived. But you…

“This is all I have, Lyney,” you murmur lowly. Lyney hasn’t heard you say his name before.

“Still, you shouldn’t have done that,” he says lightly, trailing off when you gaze to the distance. “What happened out there?”

“Cecilia was too young, even with a Vision. I thought that if I teamed up with her, I could protect her and prove that I’m as good as you Vision-holders and… Well, something went wrong. It was my interference, most likely.”

Your gaze flicks back to his face, brows knitted. “It was stupid, I know. This was the first time I did something as foolish as this, under no guidance from ‘Father’.”

Lyney has an inkling; it was suspicious you pulled this off a few days after he and Lynette got their own Visions. There were barely any orphans who didn't have theirs, either. Were you feeling…?

“I still think you’re too far ahead of me,” Lyney says, hoping you’d pick up on what he’s putting down. “I don’t know how to beat you just yet.”

And then you laugh. Lyney jumps back in surprise at the full-blown laughter bubbling out of you. He’s never heard you laugh like this, and he doesn’t know why he can’t bring himself to tear his eyes away. He can’t let anyone take your joy from you now that he’s seen how bright you are with it.

“You can go, Lyney,” you say. “Don’t worry about me. Whatever punishment ‘Father’ decides to give is mine alone. I can see it in your eyes—you were planning something.”

Lyney sags, pouting. “I wasn’t really—”

“We’ll spar in two days.” You smile, and Lyney’s protests die on his tongue. “Once you prove that you can defeat me, I’ll let you help me.”

y/n: i don’t like bow users me, leveling lyney to 90: haha yeah i know right

TAGLIST @thenyxsky @aeferkssr @1mewo1 @lacrimae-lotos @meigalaxy @hyacinth-daze @miwafei @popochakku @svasilios @heyhazelnut101

side note i am SO in love with this song so this chapter is very special to me. also hope u liked it... this was longer than last chapter!! tell me what u think if ure still reading all the way here

[ohbo-ohno]

I’m feral and need more of your a/b/o thoughts. Like I need to know your thoughts on alpha!141 snatching omega reader to keep for themselves

yknow i was gonna say that i haven't touched abo in forever, but then i remembered the gaz thing i just posted the other day lmao

(btw i wrote alpha 141 here but i think abo poly 141 would have alphas price/ghost and betas soap/gaz. probably. maybe. idfk.)

cw for noncon and kidnapping below the cut

i find poly 141 x reader really difficult to write outside of porn, since there's already so many interesting dynamics in regular poly 141. i have a hard time adding in a FIFTH element, yk? especially when that fifth element has to be a reader insert instead of some sorta OC or smth

anyway, i think the best dark poly 141 x reader idea is basically reader being used as a sex toy for the guys. like, she's there for them to relieve their stress in. but in an abo au i could totally see them using her as an element of softness in their lives. with 4 alphas in one home, you need an omega to soften things up a bit

and there you are. soft and sweet and small (compared to them at least) and just so perfect. you're the unlucky bastard who happens to smell appealing to all of them, and you're whisked away before you really even know it

they'd have to be sneaky, probably. you'd have a positive reaction to their scents too, so maybe johnny or gaz gets you to go on a date with one or both of them and then kidnaps you. maybe price or ghost just grabs you one day. something like that, i think, but there's much higher angst potential is kyle and/or johnny lulls you into a false sense of security first (and you know i love a good betrayal)

they'd push and prod at your instincts to force you into a heat before anything else. lock you in their den (soon to be their nest) and surround you in their scents, make low purrs to convince your instincts that you're safe

and as terrified as you are - and oh boy, are you - there's only so much you can actually fight your instincts. lets say you're either not on heat blockers, or maybe the blockers are weak, but for whatever reason you're very susceptible to all of their little pushes

they've got you knotted and mated by the end of the week

it's odd, coming up from that heat. your neck aches all the way around, to the point that it's painful to even turn your head. despite the unfamiliar room, your brain screams at you that you're safe, that you're in your nest.

it doesn't take long to put together the pieces. it also doesn't take long to become very very upset

thing is, it's too late to do anything now. you can't break a bond, and they're not giving you any opportunities to get away. you're stuck with these alphas who have performed the greatest invasion possible on your body and soul. it's crushing

cue lots of attempted comfort. soap and gaz would be the softest with you, always trying to tempt you into realizing how good it is to be with them. soap is rougher when he fucks you, but they're both equally soft outside of that. they bring you nesting materials, constantly make sure you're covered in their scents, and bicker over who gets to cuddle you on the couch

ghost isn't willing to coddle you. he's sweet (in his own right) but he's not nice. he doesn't try to make you feel better - you're meant to be with them, why should he apologize for making it happen? all they did was skip the courting process, this is always where you were going to end up. he refuses to apologize for that. but he also doesn't want you miserable. he holds you close at night, soaks with you for long hours in the tub, and is always making sure you clear your plate

price is... weird. i'm never sure if i should make him the meanest or a softer kidnapper. because i could absolutely see a version of price whipping your ass raw every time you scream at them and call them names, but i can also see a version of price who just levels you with a disapproving stare and locks you in a small dark space when you get like that

regardless, they all smother you. you help balance out their dynamics a bit more, but they're always fighting each other for your attention. especially with the bond making it so they always know what you're feeling. and your instincts scream to trust them (and you can feel their emotions too, know that they really meant for the best, as sick and twisted as it is).

[chrollogy]

MOON TIE

— suguru geto x f! reader

syn: During a private session with your rigger—Suguru Getou—you tell him to tie you up naked, and it takes all his professionalism not to take you right then and there.

18+ MDNI; rigger!geto, bottom!reader, smut, bondage (shibari/kinbaku), unprotected semi-public s*x (in a studio), suspension s*x (reader is tied up in a moon tie while doing it lol), all consensual, oral (f receiving), brief clit slapping, light dirty talking, multiple orgasms, pet names (sweetheart, baby, my pretty, my darling), the tie done in this fic is the ‘moon tie suspension’ for reference.

word count: 4k

notes: re-published work from my old (deactivated) account, not plagiarising :>

“do you trust me?” his voice, smooth and velvety, just above a whisper, ghosting over your ears inside the dimly lit room.

suguru always asked this question before starting the private lesson—to solidify the bond between the rigger and the bottom. shibari wasn’t just about the act of binding someone or being bound, it was more than that; the consent, the art of intricate rope patterns, the intimacy between two people.

before you was a wooden suspension rig which donned a ‘swing-set’ style frame; suguru stood behind your figure, you could feel his tall frame looming as his question floated along the thick air of the room, waiting to be answered. “yes.” a breathy tone slipped past your lips, one that you didn’t intend—you couldn’t help it, not when the growing tension went unnoticeable. the lesson hasn’t even started and yet ever since you stepped foot in the room 10 minutes ago, the atmosphere shifted.

it was like both of you were walking on egg shells in each other’s presence, as if a single wrong move would result in something dangerous. the glint in suguru’s eyes confirmed that but nonetheless, as your rigger, he remained nothing but absolutely professional. although you can’t help think about his lingering touches during the last session—the way his palm rested against the inside of your thigh a little longer; the way his chest pressed against your back; the way his fingers rubbed the crimson rope marks on your arm.

a satisfied hum came from behind, followed by his footsteps walking away from you—to grab the rope, you assumed. “i-i want to try something new. .” turning around, you watched suguru walked towards you with a scarlet jute rope in his hands. he tutted, “not with that hesitancy in your tone, no.”

a deflated sigh left your lips, “just hear me out.” your rigger stood before you, arms crossed over his chest, head tilted to the side. you took upon his silence as a sign to keep going but you found your cheeks heating at the thought of it—the words forming on your tongue. suguru watched as the gears turned in your head, your expression somewhat flustered and deep in thought. he shook his head, “no, we’re not trying it.” suguru sighed before walking towards the wooden suspension rig.

you let out a sigh of disappointment. “shibari is all about the art of experimenting but that comes with the great cost of consent and confidence. i won’t force anything you’re uncomfortable about nor introduce new themes if i sense your hesitancy. rope bondage is something to take seriously or you can end up seriously injured.” that’s what he told you during your first lesson. suguru sensed a sign of hesitancy in you twice, which means your idea was most likely off the plate.

fuck it.

“i want to do it naked.”

you watched as suguru stopped in his tracks, his ebony strands were tied in a bun, exposing the back muscles stiffening under the white tank top he donned; the singular spotlight pointed at the middle of the room—at the suspension rig—casted harsh shadows upon his physique, defining every dip and curve of his body. looking over his shoulder, suguru held your gaze but remained silent. “it’s nothing new for you, right? i want to experience it all.” that’s right. as a professional rigger, it wasn’t new to him to encounter naked models while in practice.

you’ve attended some of his performances where suguru worked his ropes on a naked model. seeing him up on the stage with someone else’s naked body on display had your stomach turning, even if suguru was completely professional about it. “i can already do suspension, so what’s the difference with having no clothes on?”

a lot. one big difference was that you were going to be suspended in the air naked. you knew that but it wasn’t like you were trying anything completely new. a velvety chuckle tore through the deafening silence of the room, “for once, you’re going to be completely naked and at my mercy.” suguru rolled his shoulders, muscles flexing at the movement before continuing towards the suspension rig. at his mercy. did he have to word it that way? the corner of his lip tugged up as he watched your thighs rub together, it was a subtle action but suguru was all about subtlety.

“i know that, and i’m okay with it.” oh god. you didn’t know why you were so pushy today. usually, all you did was follow suguru’s instructions as he guided you through the ropes. “my darling, do you know what you’re getting yourself into?” your knees almost buckled at the pet name but you stood your ground, holding his ebony gaze. suguru has your full consent, there was nothing else, really. he sighed but his face showed amusement, the light illuminating his handsome features.

“changing room is to the left, there are robes inside for you to slip into and a cabinet for your clothes. i’ll be here once you’re done.” a tinge of crimson painted his cheeks, paired with a slight waver in his velvet voice. you nodded wordlessly and didn’t waste any time to get undressed. suguru let out a loud sigh he’s been keeping as he heard the door closed shut; he dropped the scarlet rope on the ground, a thud bouncing from wall to wall as he face palmed, fully aware of his blush.

suguru cleared his throat as he watched your robed figure quietly pad over to where he stood, his mind spun at the thought of your naked body beneath the ivory cotton fabric—how it rubbed against your bare skin. his hands should be the one doing that, not some fabric. you noticed the way suguru’s chest heaved up and down, harsh breaths leaving his nose as you begun to untie the soft belt around your waist. your rigger found himself scampering to grab the rope off the ground, keeping his best to remain professional and to avoid gawking at your body.

in reality, his professionalism was hanging by a single thread. a thread bound to snap sooner or later.

suguru didn’t dare look up once he heard the soft fabric fall to the wooden floor, he could see from the corner of his eyes as it pooled around your bare feet. suddenly the jute rope in his palms were much more interesting, onyx eyes scanning the scarlet swirls of the rope. “i’m ready.” he almost jumped at your whispered tone, causing him to immediately look up from the rope. suguru sucked in a sharp breath as his eyes traced your naked body, light illuminating the parts he has never seen before.

fuck. he can already tell what your bare figure would look like all bound and suspended in the air. completely at his mercy.

surprisingly, you didn’t feel small under his piercing gaze but your heart hammered against your chest. you felt tranquil, like you weren’t inside your body, as if someone else was controlling every single action and emotion you had. is this what it felt like to be zen? to be at peace with your body and mind?

suguru cleared his throat once again, palm tightening around the rope. “right. last session, i introduced you to a new tie called the ‘moon tie’. this time, we’ll try the ‘moon tie suspension’ where you’ll be suspended in the air. the position is a bit different from last time, so do let me know if you’re beginning to feel uncomfortable.”

your rigger stood behind you, “i’ll start with the xana chest harness but this time with your arms bound behind your back. may i?” you could feel suguru’s breath ghost over your bare back, leaving goosebumps under its phantom touch. not trusting your voice, you nodded, placing your arms behind your back. a shaky breath slips past your lips as you feel the scarlet rope wrap bind your wrists together—a feeling you’re accustomed to but now with you bare body, you can feel the entirety of the rope, the roughness of it without any fabric barrier.

suguru looped the rope around your torso, making sure it’s snug enough to hold you suspended but also safe for you to breathe and stay comfortable while in the air. you bite your lip at the feeling of his fingers brushing against your breasts while looping the rope around your front and bringing it back. standing perfectly still with your arms behind your back, your body jerks along with every tug suguru does as he works the rope around your torso—your rigger stands before you, looping it over and under the previous ties he has done.

you study his concentrated face while he works on your chest. so professional. you think to yourself. in reality, suguru is almost losing his mind, his face so close to your naked breasts and yet all he can really do is brush his hands against them. oh, how he would like to massage them and listen to the moans that slip past your lips. maybe even pop a mound in his mouth, hot tongue swirling around your sensitive nipple over and over again—fuck what was he thinking?

a few more tugs here and there, your rigger admires the intricate rope work around your torso—he takes a couple of steps to circle you, making sure the lines are neat and snug. suguru noticed the way your breasts look with the scarlet rope woven around it, he slightly fiddles with the waist band of his ivory loose pants, a sinful feeling stirring between his legs. “i’ll move onto the moon tie.”

your body heats at the rough texture of the rope rubbing against your bare skin, it wasn’t painful nor uncomfortable but it did things to you. “do tell me if you feel anything out of sort, be as vocal as you want.” suguru voices out before starting the moon tie. he weaves the rope into the chest harness, kneeling down to loop it around each thigh—hands lingering on your inner thigh a little longer than needed. you bite back a moan as suguru tugs the rope, giving you a pleasurable friction near the apex of your legs. so close yet so far.

before you know it, the scarlet rope that suguru had was perfectly woven around your body, intricate loops and patterns accentuated your features. he helped you on a small step stool to prepare for the suspension, grabbing an extra rope to tie you on the suspension rig. “comfortable?” “as always.” you reassure him. suguru nods, walking to your right side, “i mentioned before that this one is a bit different than the previous moon tie we did. the suspension requires tying your ankle to the rig.”

a warm palm encased around your right ankle, securing the jute rope around it before lifting it up and tying it on the wooden rig. with one ankle lifted, it placed you in a compromising position—legs far apart and your cunt in full view, all for suguru to admire. once the ankle tie was secured around the suspension rig, he took a step back to admire the art before him—a slight tent in his pants forming at the sight of you at his mercy.

you looked absolutely breathtaking. the way the scarlet rope hugged your body just right, the fat of your skin bulging from it’s snug fit. oh, how he wished to take you right then and there.

suguru’s eyes glossed over your exposed cunt glistening under the warm lighting. he didn’t mean to say it out loud, he had no intentions of even speaking about it but it just came out. “you’re wet.” the rigger before you pointed out, gaze locked on the apex of your legs. your first instinct was to close them but the rough scarlet rope that bound you kept them in place, cheeks heating at the restriction. “. . why don’t you do something about it, then?”

“that won’t be professional of me.” his words betrayed his actions.

one. two steps and he was right in front of your wet cunt. bringing a slender finger to your right inner thigh and dragging it towards the spot where you yearned for him the most. a muttered curse slips past your lips as suguru’s digit teased you. up and down, up and down his finger trailed but never near your cunt. now you completely understood being at his mercy—hands bound behind your back, ankle tied to the suspension rig, body suspended mid-air; you couldn’t do anything other than take what he gives you, or not what he gives you.

“you’re so beautiful, you know that?” he hummed, dropping to his knees so he was at eye level with your wet folds. the first day you stepped foot in his studio, eyes wide with curiosity, suguru fantasised about you—how your body would look bound and suspended in the air, your most intimate parts exposed all for him to admire and touch.

the last thread of his professionalism snapped. all he wanted was you, now.

he moved closer, breath fanning over your cunt. “suguru, please. .” your body wiggled against the restraint, arms dying to grab his head and press his face between the apex of your legs. he hummed, tongue darting out to lick a long stripe towards your clit. you shuddered at the feeling of his hot tongue, a broken moan in the form of his name hangs in the thick air. “that’s it. i like it when you’re vocal for me, sweetheart.” suguru purred before diving into the heat of your cunt.

you tasted just as delicious as you looked. suguru ate you out with such fervour—tongue plunged deep inside you, exploring the parts he has never touched before. he groaned against your cunt, sending vibrations which had your body shuddering with pleasure. “fuck. . ! just like that—mhm!” the scarlet rope left marks on your arms as you tugged against it, needing some kind of object to hold on to, to keep you grounded as you awaited your impending orgasm.

lewd sounds filled the studio, with every slurp of suguru’s mouth, the sounds bounced around the walls, engulfing your ears. his large hand slapped your clit, causing you to jerk at the sudden pleasure jolting up your body. “a-ah! yes, i’m so near—ngh. . !” you let out a heated gasp as suguru harshly sucked on your cunt, hand still stimulating your swollen bud just above his nose. he grunted, signalling you to cum all over his tongue.

and you did. you threw your head back, body wriggling against the restraint as you cried out his name, a pleasurable pain rubbing on your bare skin which was sure to leave evident marks. suguru hungrily lapped your essence, tongue languidly licking up every bit of cum that trickled out of your cunt, groaning in satisfaction. he rode out your orgasm by rubbing slow, soft circles on your clit—muttering saccharine praises near your cunt.

suguru stood up and made his way in front of you, lacing his hand beneath your jaw to pull you in a passionate kiss. you groaned into the kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. so lewd, so dirty and yet you wanted more. your body jolted as his free hand wandered to your bare chest, palm ghosting over your pert nipples in a teasing manner. “i want you so bad.” suguru whispered as he broke the kiss, lips softly grazing over your own while he held your gaze.

a small smirk formed as he watched you chase his lips, attempting to lean forward to seal the distance, only to be held back. “you have me. . at your mercy.” suguru’s eyes were the colour of space, dark, vast, and mysterious but it held the universe inside it. “fuck . . you can’t tease me like this.” he groaned, the growing tent in his pants became uncomfortable with every passing second. “‘m not teasing you, suguru. i want you just as bad as you want me.” he held your gaze for a few seconds before his arms worked on the white tank top he wore.

you sucked in a sharp breath—eyes tracing his god-like physique. the light above contoured suguru’s muscles, casting sharp shadows that added depth to each curve and dip of his body. you wanted to run you hands all over his torso, to feel his muscles flexing beneath your palms while exploring his body but to your dismay, your arms remained secured behind your back.

suguru didn’t hesitate to discard his pants and underwear in one swift movement, the fabric pooled around his ankles. your eyes were glued to his hard cock, standing proudly against his abdomen, it’s red tip was already leaking with pre-cum. fuck, he was big. suguru groaned as his palm wrapped around the shaft, giving it languid strokes as he worked his pre-cum all over his cock.

“just the thought of you suspended mid-air like this. . fucking you while you’re restrained is driving me crazy. would you be a good girl and take it all? or would you squirm beneath my touch, beg to be untied? mmm, i can have my way with you. .”

your cunt clenched around nothing as you watched your rigger pleasure himself, fisting his cock again and again. he situated himself between your parted legs, one hand holding his hard cock to tease the angry tip up and down your folds, alternating between rubbing and slapping in against your wet cunt. “s-suguru. . !” you gasped, hands balling into fists at the bare contact. “please, no teasing.”

“eager, aren’t we?” suguru eased his cock in before you could come up with a retort. your mouth formed an ‘o’ shape, head thrown back as his cock parted you. strings of curses and broken moans left your lips as suguru inched his way inside your tight walls, he gripped your thighs for support, to at least keep him grounded while his head spun at your cunt wrapped around his hard cock.

he stood there for a moment, cock fully sheathed inside you as he let you adjust to his size because fuck was he big, it also gave suguru time to pace himself—making sure not to cum right then and there with the way you clenched around him. “please move, suguru . .” you pleaded, attempting to wiggle your hips to chase some kind of friction down there.

suguru’s breathless chuckle filled your ears. he planted a chaste kiss on your right ankle—the one bound to the suspension rig—before slowly pulling his hips back and slamming into your sopping cunt; you both fell into a unison of moans, desperate pornographic sounds intertwining with one another to create a perfect melody—suguru’s deep groans mixed with your dainty sounds. his nails dug into the flesh of your thighs, leaving crescent shaped marks on your soft skin.

you squirmed, eyes shut tightly as the blunt tip of his cock repeatedly kissed your cervix. the position you were suspended in allowed suguru’s cock to reach deeper into your cunt, causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head. wet squelches echoed throughout the studio, your essence dripping to the floor with every eager push of his hard cock. “if you keep squeezing me like that, i ain’t going to last much longer—haah. . !” suguru groaned, throwing his head back and exposing his neck; his adam’s apple bobbed with every moan of your name, a deep crimson blush plastered on his cheeks.

suguru noticed your closed eyes and reached a hand under your chin, angling your head towards him, “look at me while i fuck you.” he grunted, thumb caressing your bottom lip, dragging it downwards before prodding the digit between your lips. your mouth circled around his digit, eagerly welcoming it by swirling your tongue around and sucking on it—all while holding his lustful gaze.

your body jolted at the sudden force of suguru’s thrusts, his hips desperately ploughing into you, causing a pleasurable burn at the flesh of your inner thighs. his free hand wandered down your stomach, stopping just before where you to met and rubbed tight circles on your clit. you moaned around his digit, earning a breathless chuckle from suguru, “yeah? you like it when i fuck you like this? all tied up and open just for me?” you let out an unintelligible sound, your mind too hazy from lust to even nod in agreement.

shocks of pleasure prickled your skin, your muscles becoming taut as you neared your impending orgasm. suguru noticed the change in your behaviour, the way your chest heaved up and down, a series of broken high pitched moans coming from you, and your eyes rolling to the back of your head—he took his thumb from your mouth and held your jaw, “make pretty sounds for me while you cum.” you cried out his name, voice full of heat and desperation that had suguru’s eyes almost rolling back in pleasure.

he encouraged you to make more sounds, shaky whispers leaving his lips. suguru knew he was close too from the familiar bubbling at the pit of his stomach but he wanted you to cum first, he wanted to see how pretty you’d look as you creamed his cock. “that’s it, baby. . ! moan just for me, and only me. .” suguru let out a heated gasp, the sensation of your clenching walls becoming too much for him.

you tugged at the rope woven around your body, squirming in place as you came—stars engulfing your vision, and suguru’s name hung in the thick air of the studio. he caressed your cheek, onyx eyes glued to your lust-driven face as he whispered dirty praises; suguru knew you probably couldn’t hear his voice from the blissful expression on your face but that was fine, you did so well for him.

“think you can take one more for me?” he grunted, a pained expression donned his face as you clenched around him—although, what he was feeling was far from pain. you let out a broken cry, scrambling to get away from suguru’s hips since the pleasure was becoming too much. hot tears rolled down your heated cheeks as you chanted his name, throat scratchy from all the moaning you did earlier.

“c’mon, one more f’me, my pretty—aah, fuck . . !” you leaned into suguru’s touch, the contact of his palm on your cheek burned with bliss. “‘m cumming! ngh! suguru. . !” “s-shit. let go for me.” you let out a silent moan, eyes rolling back and lips locked in an ‘o’ shape as pleasure hit you immensely—your body shuddered, head spinning. suguru angled his body so his face was positioned near yours, sealing your lips together in a messy kiss.

he groaned in between kisses, chasing your lips while your body jolted with every desperate thrust of his hips. suguru gave you a few more messy thrusts before completely pulling out and shooting his load on you. he eagerly fisted his cock, hand swiftly working on it to ride out his orgasm, and paint your body with every last bit of his cum; you moaned at the warm feeling of his cum coating your lower abdomen, and inner thighs—biting your bottom lip at his lewdness.

“you have no idea how much i’ve been wanting to do that.” suguru panted, a sheen of sweat coating his body, causing his muscles to glisten under the warm light.

“looks like i’m looking forward to our session next week, then.” you croaked. “oh, trust me, my darling, you may want to take a break next week. the rope marks aren’t the only thing that’s going to be sore for you.” he playfully chided, placing a chaste kiss on your sweaty forehead before setting the stool beneath your suspended body, preparing to untie you.

“yeah? why don’t you come massage it for me then.” “mmm, let’s get you cleaned up, hm? i’ll give you a real good massage. after all, i’m good with my hands.” suguru replies, peppering butterfly kisses all over your arms—the scarlet rope made a rather evident mark on your skin.

“good is such an understatement.” you smile up at him, tucking strands of his onyx fringe behind his pierced ear.

[tinybeetiny]

Subtle Foreshadowing: OT8

HAPPY BIRTHDAY ATEEZ. I’ve been having to stay off TikTok because the edits are making me emotional 🥲

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Cw: explicit language, sore losers, competitiveness

Masterlist | Ateez Masterlist

“YOU’RE SUCH A BITCH AND I HOPE YOU FALL DOWN THE STAIRS” “MINGI NO”

“Okay (y/n) what is this game you wanted us to play” Seonghwa asked bringing over the bowl of popcorn “it’s a nice game that helps with team bonding and it’ll bring us all closer” you respond with a bright smile

“YOU FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT. ARE YOU STUPID?” “Yeosang… calm down”

“Overcooked 2? What’s that?” Mingi asked when the loading screen popped up “oh it’s just a nice cooking game where you have to work together to get the dishes out. It’s up to four players so I guess there could be two teams. I’ve already played it so I just want to watch” you beamed, excited to see the boys play “Are you sure? We don’t want you to feel left out.” Yunho pouted next to you “I’m sure!”

“YOU MIDGET BITCH. I SWEAR I’LL END YOU RIGHT NOW” “Oh my gosh Yunho please sit down”

The boys split into two teams. Team 1 consisted of Hongjoong, Yunho, San and Mingi. Team 2 consisted of Seonghwa, Yeosang, Wooyoung and Jongho. “Okay so I’ll have you guys do the tutorial first. Hongjoong your team will go first. It’s super easy” you tell them as you pass the controllers out. A small part of you felt a little bad for doing this to them but you think back to their little grocery incident and decide that this is the best way to get back at them

“Okay. Seonghwa do you guys need to do the tutorial too?” You ask turning to the boys on the other couch “We probably should” he responded reaching for the controllers “whaaat no we don’t! We got this” Wooyoung interrupted “let’s do round 1 first!” “Wooyoung no” but Seonghwa’s words feel on deaf ears as Wooyoung already started the round.

“YOU DUMB FUCK. WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?” “GOD DAMMIT WOOYOUNG” “YOU’RE DONE” “I’M SORRY”

The boys were doing good! Until the dirty plates come into play. The tension was palpable and it felt a little suffocating. “Hongjoong… we need more plates” Yunho said a little on edge “I know I know but I’m trying to make sure the rice doesn’t overcook” “OKAY but you’re supposed to be doing the dishes…. San, what are you doing you’re supposed to do the pots. MINGI WHAT THE FUCK” You forgot how competitive Yunho was… how competitive they all were. “MY CONTROLLER ISN’T WORKING” Mingi yelled, confused why his character wasn’t moving how he wanted it to “MINGI YOU STUPID BITCH ITS UPSIDE DOWN” Yunho screamed back “YOU’RE SUCH A BITCH AND I HOPE YOU FALL DOWN THE STAIRS” “MINGI NO”. Well… it’s safe to say that Seonghwa’s team scored a little better that round.

The next round was a bit more difficult and they were all feeling the heat. Everything was going quite smoothly. It seemed like they found a good rhythm with Jongho chopping, Seonghwa cooking, Yeosang serving and Wooyoung doing plates but as more and more orders came in their perfect system started to crumble. Seonghwa had slightly burned one of the dishes and Wooyoung was getting behind on plates “Guys please you’re killing me here.” Yeosang was getting nervous, he wanted to keep the lead his team had but with the way they were performing this round it was very close. “Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck Seonghwa get it now” Jongho noticed a pan was burning… bad. At that point the pressure got to Yeosang and he bursted “YOU FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT. ARE YOU STUPID?” “Yeosang… calm down”

Hongjoong’s team didn’t do any better this round either. “Mingi I swear if you don’t move out of the way I’m gonna lose it” Hongjoong voice was quiet, eerily quite and everyone just stared in anticipation “No I’m supposed to be doing the plates this time” Mingi argued back “Guys I need to plate this now” San interjected as he watched the time tick down. Trying to hurry, Hongjoong grabbed the wrong vegetable and put it on the wrong plate “YOU MIDGET BITCH. I SWEAR I’LL END YOU RIGHT NOW” Yunho yelled as he shot up out of his seat “Oh my gosh Yunho please sit down”

“Um. Maybe we should just play one more round and that’s it.” You nervously said watching the boys glare at each other “you’re both tied right now so I think this last will be enough” neither team said anything while Yeosang held his hand out for the controllers. This round was another split kitchen round and you were nervous that the dorm would explode. The anticipation built as Yeosang hit play and the round started. “Oh fuck not another one of these” Jongho groaned. The living room was dead quiet as the round continued, sweat dripping down Seonghwa’s forehead as he tried to focus on his task. Yeosang was staring so intensely that you were afraid he was going to burn holes in the tv. Wooyoung… you had no idea what Wooyoung was doing, you were just happy he wasn’t running in circles. Jongho was keeping up with the plates fabulously. Until… “YOU DUMB FUCK. WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?” “GOD DAMMIT WOOYOUNG” “YOU’RE DONE” “I’M SORRY”. Wooyoung thought he put the wrong ingredient on the plate, then proceeded to trash it.

You watched as the boy yelled at each other, the other team joining shortly after. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.