#I feel like I briefly did but ah well lol

[houseofmad]

This is my latest artwork so I have A LOT of older ones and old WIPs I’ve been slowly working on that I never posted here but I’m really proud of this one so I will post it here.

[misc-obeyme]

Sigh. Okay. Here's the Levi demon form smut. I don't think it turned out very good, but I'm tired of messing with it. And I spent time writing it, so I figure I might as well post it. I'm sorry, Levi, I swear I'll do you justice one day~

GN!MC x Leviathan

NSFW MDNI

Warnings: penetration (reader receiving), Levi being silly and blushy and anxious, demon form, tail stuff (I'm struggling with how to label this - the tail wraps around MC, MC sucks on the end of it, and it also stimulates MC but doesn't penetrate... okay that'll have to do I guess), sexy potion (briefly mentioned and Levi drank it lol), cockwarming, biting, man I hope that's it

Leviathan was already bright red. He kept his eyes squeezed shut, but the blush covering his face was so sweet. He was in his bathtub, back against several pillows and you in his lap. Two piles of clothes were on the floor nearby. He'd been nervous from the start, even though you had done this before. You tried to get him to relax, but it was clear that most of the things you did only made it worse.

You ran your hands over his chest as you pushed back against his erection.

You put your hand on his cheek. “Please, Levi?”

“M-MC!” he protested.

You had asked him if he would shift into demon form and the idea of it flustered him so bad he couldn’t look at you.

You kissed his warm cheeks. “I just wanna see you,” you said as you trailed your lips down his neck.

Levi shivered at the light touch, but he still couldn’t open his eyes.

You sighed and sat up a bit, so you could cup his face with both hands. You rubbed your thumbs across his skin. “Look at me, Levi.”

Obediently, Levi opened his eyes, but it was still difficult for him. He turned his face away, like he was trying to only see you in his periphery. You turned him back to face you.

"Whatever you think about yourself doesn't matter," you said. "I want to see all of you. You can do that for me, can't you?"

Something seemed to shine in Levi’s eyes. Not tears, but a confidence you knew he often didn't feel. And then he was in demon form, confirming that your words had boosted him enough to feel comfortable granting your request.

You watched as the complex horns emerged and the black and indigo coloring splayed across his neck and shoulder. You could feel the tail wrap around your waist. You shifted slightly so the scales rubbed gently across your skin.

You traced your fingertips across the pattern on his neck and the way he whined in response filled you with satisfaction. You leaned back down to press kisses along where your fingers had touched, enjoying the way he began to squirm beneath you.

You rolled your hips, grinding yourself down on his erection, making him cry out.

“A-ah!” Levi’s fingers were suddenly digging into your arms, a sensation you found you liked. His tail tightened around your waist. “MC! Please!”

You smirked and looked down at him. “Please what?”

But Levi couldn’t say it. You knew he would be too embarrassed to. He squeezed his eyes shut again, pressing his lips together and shaking his head.

You laughed a little because his reaction was so cute. You ran your hands through his hair, letting them slide gently up his horns, enjoying the way he shuddered in response. Then you kissed him, running your tongue along those tightly clamped lips in an attempt to get him to relax. It worked. He opened his mouth for you, letting out a little gasp as your tongue slipped inside.

Your kiss became sloppy fast, your hips occasionally rolling languidly downward. Every time you did this, the tail around your waist twitched and tightened just a little.

You pulled away to look down at him again and while his expression was a little more open, the anxiety was still clearly written there.

You pressed kisses across his face, pausing by his ear to whisper, “You’re safe with me. It’s okay to let go a little.”

It was like you had unlocked a secret level. Levi’s hands moved from your arms to your hips and he bucked up into you, letting out a whine that was so needy you couldn’t help but smile.

You rearranged yourself a bit, then sat snugly on his cock. You went slowly, inching down bit by bit so you could hear his noises.

As you went, Levi’s tail wrapped even more circles around you until the tip was brushing against your cheek. You smiled as it edged along your lips then opened your mouth to let it inside.

As soon as the tip of Levi’s tail was inside your mouth, you clamped your lips closed and sucked. You were rewarded by the sight of Levi’s eyes rolling back into his head as he moaned and bucked beneath you.

You steadied yourself with your hands on his chest as you moved your hips, setting a decent pace. Every time his cock was fully inside you, it sent spikes of pleasure through your gut. You moaned around his tail, but didn’t let it out of your mouth. Your tongue was too busy exploring the unusual feeling of his scales.

Levi was a mess beneath you, his hands gripping your hips so tightly you knew there’d be marks later. He couldn’t stop himself from meeting your movements and the lower part of his tail that was wrapped around you seemed to be moving you, too. You found you barely had to do any of the work yourself. You still maintained the pace and position, though, and Levi seemed to be content to let you.

Your heavy breathing filled the room along with the sound of skin smacking against skin and Levi’s soft whines. You decided you wanted to hear a little more, reaching out to pinch one of his nipples.

Levi cried out and you laughed softly around the tail in your mouth. Levi pulled his tail out as it squeezed around you even more. It was almost painful but not quite. You knew he didn’t even realize what he was doing and that made it all the more enjoyable.

“Sorry,” you said between heaving panting now that your mouth was free. “Did that hurt?”

Levi whined. “D-do it again-“

He didn’t have to ask twice. But you decided this time it would be more satisfactory to use your teeth. The tail around you slackened just a bit as you moved your body forward and bit down on the sensitive skin.

Levi was squirming hard beneath you now and you knew it was only a matter of time before he came. You increased your pace, letting your arms rest on his shoulders, pulling him into your body as you focused on your movement.

Everything around you tightened - Levi’s tail, his hands, even his eyes squeezing shut - as he came inside of you.

Levi cried out your name so beautifully as his tail went limp, falling into a heap around you.

Levi kept his eyes closed tight as your pace slackened. You were about to stop when you felt the tip of his tail, still wet from your mouth, finding its way between your legs, just barely touching your most sensitive spot.

It was so unexpected, you gasped.

Levi peeked at you, opening one eye just enough to register the look of surprise on your face. “D-don’t stop,” he said. And his hands gripped your hips hard again, keeping you moving.

“But-!” you protested. “How are you still-?”

The blush that alighted on Levi’s face made you smile. You were about to ask him how he was still hard after he came only seconds ago. There was something going on there, but you felt too good in that moment to pursue it further.

The tail between your legs seemed to have a mind of its own. It was only moments before you weren’t able to form full sentences anyway. You barely registered the look of adorable determination on Levi’s face before you felt that tightening in your gut.

You ended up leaving light scratch marks across his chest as you came, his tail continuing its ministrations as you rode out your orgasm.

You drew in some heavy breaths as you collapsed against Levi, letting your head settle in the crook of his neck. His arms moved to wrap around you, hugging you close to him, and his tail did the same, but not too tightly.

“You’re still hard,” you said, pressing light kisses to his neck.

Levi groaned. “Asmo gave me this potion…”

You laughed softly against his skin. “Oh, was it more potent than you thought it’d be?”

“D-don’t laugh, MC!” he said even as his grip on you tightened.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “Do you want me to help you out?”

Levi was quiet for a long time before he finally said. “A-actually, if you could just… stay like this…”

You were more than content to stay in Levi’s arms and cockwarm him all night if that’s what he wanted. You both fell asleep soon enough, though it would take some time for the potion to fade.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[stunie]

zevie I have a thought! since kiryu canonically is a gamer, imagine him with a gf who isn't really into videogames but loves otome games! I think it'd be so cute and just imagine his reaction to showing him the game and talking about her faves. and then they's spend time together while kiryu plays his videogames and she's next to him playing on her phone lol this has been in my head for weeks!! i had to tell someone!!

nonnie i love ur thought !! this is so cute please >: it would be so fun to play next to him !! i wrote something a teeeeny bit different but it’s still similar :>

kiryu mitsuki x f!reader! sfw.

“ah,” you don’t pause your game even when you feel the couch dip under kiryu’s weight, eyes briefly flickering between him and your screen as he nestles right beside you, “hi there, ‘suki.”

he gives you a cheerful hum in response, arm snaking around your waist to pull you gently into his side, and his lips curl into a little smile as soon as you lean into him, both hands still busy clicking away at your game.

“soo?” he starts planting small kisses along the top of your head, “what are you up to, princess?”

his voice comes out as soft as always, arms wrapped loosely around your middle as he rests his chin on your head, peeking at the game you’ve been preoccupied with all day. not that he minds, of course. the two of you have been spending your off days like this lately, legs tangled in each other’s as you both play your own games, occasionally pausing for a couple minutes to sneak in some kisses.

but today he wants to watch.

“…just this,” you mumble, “and did you know? i’m almost at the part where my fav kisses me.”’

“oh?” his tone is curious, not a trace of jealousy or anger behind it, but it still makes your breath hitch in your throat. “so you’ve been getting kisses this whole time, haven’t you?”

“mhm. but this one,” you hold up your game for him to see it better, “is my favorite.”

it’s a character he’s seen all too many times. kiryu remembers each one you’ve gushed to him about— knows them by name as well as all the info listed on their character pages.

he could even recite them to you if you asked.

“well aren’t you a lucky girl,” he coos, arms tightening around your waist as he holds you flush against his chest, “but that’s no fair. my kiss comes next, okay?”

[sukuna-dees-nuts]

@nessieartss i did it again lol

based on this ask and this ask because i couldn't get "rizzless sukuna" out of my head 😭 (and also Maki being one of Sukuna's friends is relevant which is why i tagged that ask)

anyway, please enjoy!!

Edit: part 2!!

---

Sukuna can’t keep the scowl off his face as he watches Yuuji from across the courtyard. He watches as his little brother effortlessly jokes with his friends, his face and movements animated enough that they’re clear even from so far away. Yuuji has always been the more charismatic of the two brothers; always the one to make friends first. 

Yuuji throws his head back in laughter, casually throwing his arm around Megumi’s shoulders. Sukuna feels a twinge of jealousy in his gut and he can’t stop the grunt that escapes his throat. 

How ridiculous is he? Getting jealous over nothing. It’s laughable. Sukuna doesn’t get jealous! 

Except… the more he watches his little brother interact with Megumi, the more he finds himself wishing that he could hang out with Megumi—

“Oh fuck me,” he groans, rubbing his hands over his face. 

“What’s got your panties in a twist?” 

Sukuna looks up. Maki takes a seat next to him on the steps, a meticulous brow arched in intrigue. He’s quiet for a moment as he rests his elbows on his knees. While he considers Maki to be one of his closest (and one of his only) friends, Sukuna briefly contemplates brushing his inner turmoil aside. This is her cousin, after all. Would she really want to hear about Sukuna’s stupid crush that he barely acknowledges himself?

Ah, fuck it, he thinks and sits up straighter. 

“How do you ask someone out?”

Maki blinks, taken aback by the question. She holds Sukuna’s gaze as if trying to gauge whether or not he’s being serious. Her mouth presses into a thin line.

“Depends on who you’re wanting to ask out,” she responds with a casual shrug. As she reaches up to fix her ponytail, she asks, “Are you saying that you’ve never asked anyone out before?”

Sukuna sniffs and says nothing, running his tongue over his teeth. His attention turns to his nails, examining them for any chips in the nail polish.

“It’s never been relevant before,” Sukuna grumbles. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Maki shift. She nods slowly with a hum of acknowledgement. 

“So, who is it?” Maki asks.

“Huh?” 

“The person you want to ask out, who is it?” she asks again.

This time, Sukuna hesitates to answer. He’s never been one to be ashamed of his preferences; he always makes his thoughts clear whether it shows on his face or in his words. Like the time when Sukuna argued that the Star Wars franchise was “extremely overrated” and Yuuji nearly had a heart attack (he still hasn’t let it go).

Finally, with a sigh, Sukuna answers in another grumble, “Fushiguro.”

The silence that stretches out between them is loud. Sukuna thinks for a moment that Maki might have gotten up and left. When he looks to the side, he finds that she’s still sitting there, staring at him, an unreadable expression on his face. He fully expects her to start laughing at him, but, she doesn’t. 

Maki continues staring at Sukuna until he narrows his eyes at her, opening his mouth to tell her to just forget about it and fuck off—

“Oh, you’re actually serious,” she huffs. “For a moment I thought you were pulling my leg.”

Sukuna feels his irritation ebb and he rolls his eyes. “Why the hell would I make a joke like that? There are other things I could use to bully you with. Like your stupid glasses. They don’t fit your face.”

Ignoring the comment, Maki goes on, “Fushiguro isn’t one for extravagance. If you really want to ask him out, you should pull him off to the side and ask him privately. He’d appreciate that.” The bell rings, signaling that it’s time for the next class. Maki and Sukuna get to their feet. 

“Also, it would do you well to work on your tactfulness,” the girl adds over her shoulder as she begins to walk away.

Sukuna flips her off. “Fuck you. I’m not asking you for advice anymore.”

He watches as his friend heads back inside before turning his attention back to Megumi who is walking in the opposite direction of his two friends. Sukuna runs a hand through his hair, exhaling a long breath. 

It’s another few seconds of watching Megumi walk before Sukuna’s feet start moving, carrying him in the same direction and he mentally curses at himself again.

Fuck it. Let’s do this.

[ryngzmn]

Hey! this is from that post where you need something to write about lol Maybe something about Dean comforting reader about something? Maybe it's based on trauma or something that happened on the hunt that got them so shaken up?

silver springs

PAIRING: Dean Winchester x reader

SUMMARY: dean comforts you after you have another night terror.

WORD COUNT: 669.

A/N: I LOVE THIS IDEA SM, TY😭😭 also i js created the title on a whim bc i was listening to Silver Springs by Fleetwood Mac on repeat the whole time while writing this (can you tell I’m not that creative lol..)

One thing Dean had recently noticed about you is that you tended to wake up in a cold sweat from nightmares.

He’d always comfort you as best as you could, but he could shake away the curiosity of what those night terrors were about.

To be frank, he always asked if you wanted to talk about it, but you’d always decline. Dean didn’t push anything, for your sake of things.

—————————————————————————

Dean was wide awake this night, and he could hear you tossing and turning in the nearby motel bed.

He briefly glanced over his shoulder and at your trembling form, preparing himself for when you eventually woke up.

A few minutes after, you shot up with a sharp gasp, a cold sweat engulfing you, and tears threatening to spill down your cheeks.

Dean got up almost immediately, walking over and sitting on the edge of the bed near you.

“Hey, hey..” He whispered, gently placing a hand on your knee and rubbing his thumb over the inside of the joint.

You slowly looked over at him with wide, almost wild eyes.

“You’re okay, you’re safe here.” He assured quietly, giving your knee a comforting squeeze.

Once Dean saw you take a small breath, he knew you were slowly calming down. Which was a good sign, obviously.

He inhaled through his teeth as he asked the same question he asked every time you had one of these. “You wanna talk about it?”

He fully expected you to say no, to say you were fine and go back to sleep for the night. But surprisingly, you nodded your head wordlessly.

Dean shifted on the bed so he was fully sitting next to you, tugging you closer to him.

You let your head fall to his shoulder, taking a deep breath before you spoke.

“It was about a Wendigo hunt…” You said quietly, but just loud enough that you could hear yourself.

“Yeah..?” Dean nodded, looking down at you as he waited for you to continue expectantly.

You could feel his eyes on you, and you sniffled for a quick second.

“Yeah. It, uh, it ruined my hearing a bit. And it almost killed me.” You explained, shifting against Dean’s side.

Ah, so that’s how you’re hearing was messed up. Dean knew that your hearing wasn’t the best, he and Sam always had to speak in normal volumes around you.

They could never whisper or mumble anything, you wouldn’t be able to hear them and always had to ask them to repeat themselves.

The brothers had both asked why your hearing was like that, because they didn’t really think it was all that natural for someone to hear but not hear that well.

Every time, your response would be something along the lines of, “It happened during a hunt…”

But you never explained it any further. You just left it to their imaginations. Sam’s curiosity died faster than Dean’s did.

Dean’s curiosity on the matter never went away.

“A Wendigo hunt?” He murmured in question before shaking his head and repeating the question in a louder tone for you.

He heard you chuckle quietly and he felt a small smile tug at the corner of his lips.

“Mhm.” You nodded, clearing your throat before continuing. “It came at me, I was able to dodge just it time for it to hit a vital area, but it still clipped my ear.”

Dean let out a soft hum of acknowledgment, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. You eagerly sought his comfort and warmth that came with being in his presence on nights like these.

“Maybe you should get back to sleep, we have a hunt in the morning.” Dean chuckled, squeezing your shoulder.

You sighed, letting out a small yawn now that you realized how exhausted you still were.

“Yeah, I should probably do that.” You agreed, “You should go to sleep too,”

Dean tapped his chin thoughtfully, before looking back down at you.

“Okay, yeah, I think i’ll go to sleep too..”

——————————��——————————————

reblogs r appreciated !

[megamindsecretlair]

I would love a stunna cabin getaway mixed with some bdsm please babe

A/N: So um, I kinda ran away this, lol

It's Written in the Stars

Pairing: Soft Dom!Big Stunna x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. FLUFF. Angst if you squint. Cursing, PIV, oral (female and male receiving), fingering (fem receiving) teasing, cum play, size kink, dirty talk, praise/degradation kink, bondage, all consensual. D/s lite. Mentions of fertility issues, guilt, negative self talk (please seek help)

Summary: See Ask. While you were going through fertility issues, you were being hard on yourself. Hating to see you like this, Stunna prepares a beautiful weekend away so that you can unwind and refocus on each other. You get a little more than you bargained for.

Word Count: 9,646k

AO3 Link

A/N: I had been wanting to get this out before the heat went away fro the winter time. Ah well LOL. Whew. Idk where all this came from. My hormones all over this place, chilleee. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

Your husband hated you. Surely, he did. You watched his goofy ass skip to the front door to lock it, whistling all the while. He wore a burgundy shirt stretched tight over his muscles and black jeans that hugged his ass just right.

He was lucky he was so fine. More than fine, your husband made your toes curl every single day. Just with a single look. Every day felt like never enough when it came to him. You sighed, looking away briefly before you started crying.

You were starting to get those kind of looks. The pitiful, poor thing type of looks that made you feel crazy when you weren’t. Stunna did so much for you, every day. The least you could do, the very least was to give him a baby. A cute little son that just looked like him so that he could break the cycle. Raise a Black boy in love and happiness.

And you couldn’t even do that right. The past few months as you both began trying in earnest, you started to hate the tests. The waiting was the worst part. Like you were both hopeful and trying to prepare for the worst news. And as soon as it turned negative, you both sighed and he would comfort you.

But god, you felt like a failure. You succeeded everywhere else in life. Going to school, landing a good job, and having good friends. Why couldn’t you excel at this too? 

“Get that frown off your face, beautiful,” Stunna said, climbing into the rental truck. He closed the door and then grabbed your left hand. He brought it to his lips and then looked at you. 

“This weekend is about rest. We’ve been caught up on the results and not the action. We forgot that it’s us underneath all this, right?” He asked. 

You mumbled your affirmation, not brave enough to meet his eyes. He put on such a good front for you. But you knew he was just as disappointed. You spent plenty of nights dreaming of your future kids. Wondering what kind of personality they would have, what kind of hobbies they would develop. 

You had silly arguments about hypothetical situations your kids would get into. Or if they would favor one parent over the other. You even went to bed giggling, pretending to call your child’s full government name. You cuddled in the morning and praised one another about what a good parent the other would make. 

“Look at me, baby,” Stunna said. When you didn’t move fast enough for him, he grabbed your chin and turned your head to look at him. 

“I love you just as much as the first time I laid eyes on you,” he said.

“Boy, stop,” you said, lips twisting to fight off a smile. 

Stunna kissed your hand and then took a big bite. It didn’t sting, it only made your stomach do silly flips. You were unnaturally horny. You hadn’t taken drugs through this whole thing, wanting to do it the good old fashioned way like everyone else. But you were approaching ovulation and fuck if you weren’t hot and bothered by the smallest thing.

It didn’t help that nearly everything out of this man’s mouth was either sweet or nasty. No inbetween. 

“We’re going to relax this weekend, okay? Promise?” He asked.

You nodded, a little more convinced. You were allowed one weekend to rest. One weekend to sit and unwind and not have a care or worry in the world. You were allowed that at least. You leaned back in the seat while Stunna started the car. He backed out of your driveway  and headed up the street, leaving the familiar houses behind and then merging onto the freeway.

He drove from late afternoon into the evening, driving further west. He said he found a near-ish Air B&B that was perfect for “what he had planned”. What he could possibly plan between earlier this month when he told you about the trip to now, was beyond you and you didn’t want to make yourself sick thinking about it. 

Night time made the city outside light up so prettily in golds and softest whites. The street lamps overhead passed by, temporarily illuminating the car’s interior. You held onto Stunna’s hand as he drove or sometimes he let it drift to your thigh. 

You talked, you laughed, you pretended like you were back in college when you first met. You pretended that you were just a girl in the quad and he was the boy that almost hit you with a football. 

He teased you that day, drawing your ire so that he could disarm you with something so sweet and devastating, you were agreeing to have dinner with him before your mind could catch up. 

You were the car’s DJ and kept Stunna awake with stories about work or your friends, or updates on the craziest member of your family. He told you about his usual days, dealing with the people who work for him.

By the time eight at night rolled around, Stunna pulled onto a long, winding street that was so dark, the headlights only caught five feet in front of you. It had turned mountainous, with curving, man made roads. There were only a handful of guard rails around steep turns but the road was pretty open.

“Where did you book us?” You asked, looking outside of the window. 

“I know, it looks scary as shit. But I promise it’s not bad,” he said. 

You gripped onto his hand anyway, looking out of the window for any glimpse of the world. Any sign of life. There was just the feeling of woods on either side. The road turned to light gravel as Stunna traveled further down the path. The headlights flashed over a mailbox and then Stunna turned left, pulling into a driveway.

The cabin itself was too cute for words. Looked like it was built out of actual logs, with a huge porch and dark fixtures around the foundation and windows. Outside of the house, there was plenty of room to park a few cars or make one good turn and then exit. 

“Oh, this is beautiful,” you said. The moon overhead gave it a soft glow that was straight out of a puzzle box. Stunna cut the engine and then got out of the car. He walked around to your side and opened the door for you, taking your hand and helping you out of it.

“There’s no other neighbors for a few miles in any direction. There’s a police and fire station nearby in case anything pops off. We can unwind here,” he said. He wrapped his hands around your waist and kissed you. His full lips lingered, kissing you without abandon, lighting that familiar fire between your legs. He ended the kiss with one final swipe of his tongue across your lips. He smiled at you and then walked with you up the stairs. 

He unlocked the front door and then turned on the nearest light. The inside was just as cute. There were handmade blankets on the thick leather couches. The rug in the living room was thick and plush with a digital fireplace. 

“Oh this is gorgeous,” you said.

Stunna chuckled. “Yeah, took a lot of research to find one that suits my plans,” he said. He kissed your cheek. 

“You keep mentioning these plans, should I be nervous?” You asked, giggling to yourself. 

“Yes, you should be,”Stunna said, giving you a wink and a sexy smile before going outside. You walked further into the house, taking in the layout. It opened directly into the living room and stairs faced you, a second floor revealed up top. 

Behind the living room, there was a roomy kitchen with nice, almost new appliances. Must be nice to be able to afford that stuff for a rental property. You had brought groceries with you and you were never more grateful that Stunna’s favorite hobby was cooking.

You were treated to all kinds of delicious food, willingly becoming his guinea pig when he wanted to try out something. Your back would never not be big. You liked to cook, but the chore of it bored you to tears. Hours of work to eat it in minutes and spend forever trying to clean up. Spare you, please. 

Stunna made plenty of noise coming into the house with your suitcases and bags. He also had a mysterious third bag with him that he told you was off limits. Naturally, it only made you more curious to know what was inside. You supposed you’d have to be good and wait. 

Stunna brought the luggage upstairs and you followed lazily behind, searching the other rooms to find a home office, two bathrooms, and two bedrooms. Stunna set the luggage down in the master’s room, lots of space and it smelled clean. 

The bed was made up with a modest blue comforter and a gray throw blanket thrown across the bottom. The walls were a gentle yellow with different pieces of art on the walls. 

There was an ottoman at the foot of the bed that Stunna set your suitcase and bag on. He rolled his to his side of the bed and came back around the bed. He grabbed your face and pulled you into a big, wet kiss that curled your toes in your shoes. 

“Sit your sexy ass down and I’ll lock up. Then, we relax,” he said. 

You shook your head and threw your hands up. Stunna said that he wanted you to relax this weekend and not lift a finger. You wanted to argue the point but he brought out his Dom voice and you folded like origami. 

“Yes, Sir,” you said. You made a show of walking over to the bed and then turning around to sit. You lowered your ass to the bed, watching Stunna’s smile spread across his face. He sighed and shook his head.

“Gonna hurt me, girl,” he said. 

He left the room and made quick work of locking up the car and then checking all of the locks to the house. You heard him humming as he moved around, the sound going in and out as he moved about. 

He returned in no time, carrying two hangers with plush robes on them. “Stunna! What is this?” You asked. 

“We had a long ass day and deserve to get pampered on. Run us a bath and I’ll get some snacks and wine going,” he said.

“You are too much, you know that? You really planned this whole weekend?”

Stunna crossed the room and then laid the robe down on the bed. He pulled you to a standing position, putting his hands around your waist. You brought your hands around his neck, kissing his nose as he looked down at you. 

“I have one job this weekend. That job is to get you nice and relaxed. To make you feel good. Loosen up that sexy body so I can plant a baby in there,” he said. 

“Oh,” you gasped, eyes snapping to his. 

His dark eyes glowed with mischief with a cheeky smile spreading across his face. He leaned down and kissed you, turning it from something sweet to something hot. He tugged on your bottom lip before smoothing the pain away with a lick of his tongue. 

“It’s not your fault I’m barren,” you said, sulking. You tried to pry yourself away from him but he held onto your waist.

“Baby, I’m not doing my job if you think I’m not proud of you or in love with you throughout this whole thing. You’re not barren, we’re just sucking the fun out of it. And that includes me,” he said. 

You opened your mouth to argue with him but he beat you to it with a kiss to your lips. You giggled and he smiled. “We can play the blame game all night. Or, we can get this night started. I promise you’ll like the second option better,” he said. 

You rolled your eyes and smiled, unable to resist this time. “Second option it is,” you said. If the goal was to relax, then you were going to help him achieve it by listening and accepting some damn comfort for once. 

This time was stressful, made more stressful by the fact that you have something tangible telling you no. Some stupid ass stick crushing your dreams over and over again. You were going to cry it out and then thug it out. 

“That’s my girl. Get that bath running how we like,” he said. 

He released your waist and then tapped your ass. You jumped and covered your butt, turning back to look at his wide grin. He gestured for you to keep going so you did, heading into one of the available bathrooms. 

Stunna passed you in the hallway, going to a cabinet to dig out towels for the both of you. You turned on the light in the bathroom, taking in all of the details. The walls were covered in white subway tile halfway up the wall, the rest was covered in a deep rose color. The floor was tile as well, cold to the touch but there were a lot of rugs to cover your feet with. 

You looked into the tub to find it pristine. Whoever cleaned in between uses was phenomenal. You’d have to check for a card or something later. You fiddled with the knobs, turning on the hot water and finding the stopper. 

While the water ran, you grabbed your favorite neutral body soap and poured it into the bathwater to get it nice and soapy. 

Stunna came in and out of the bathroom to check the progress. He brought your two robes into the bathroom and hung it up on the inside of the door. He brought you a glass of wine and kissed your head upon delivery. 

“Here you are,” he said with a fake British accent, presenting the glass as if it were brought especially for you. You giggled when you took it, taking a sip and letting the wine travel down your system and instantly warm you up from the inside out. 

The water was nearly finished so you turned it off and then got the shower going. You took off your clothes, kicking them to one side of the bathroom. You wrapped your hair into a bonnet, then placed a shower cap on top.

You scrubbed excess dirt and grime from the day and from the car ride, lathering up every inch of your skin. You rinsed off and then got out of the shower just as Stunna brought in a dinner tray with a charcuterie board on top of it. 

You dried your hands and instantly went for the salami and a piece of cracker. You moaned at the simple taste, chasing it down with a sip of wine. Cool air hit your naked skin so you shivered and then hopped in the bath. 

Stunna positioned the tray next to the tub, within easy reach of anyone sitting in it. He pressed a button on a hidden remote that he conjured from nowhere. Sexy, grown music filtered in from hidden speakers in the room. You gasped and looked around, hearing the music like an echo in other rooms. Stunna grinned, pleased as punch, and then he gave you a strip tease. 

“Whew, go baby. Go baby!” You chanted, miming throwing money at him. He danced his way through taking off his shirt and pants. Next went his underwear, freeing his long, thick dick. You licked your lips at it, watching it bob up and down with his dancing. He turned around and started twerking, mimicking what you do to him. You laughed so hard that your sides hurt.

He hopped in the shower next, washing off his own dirt and grime. You went for a grape on the tray, settling back into the tub with a loud sigh. Stunna turned the shower off, shaking out the excess water and then slunk into the tub with you.

He jostled the water and fresh warmth enveloped you. If you weren’t careful, you were going to fall asleep against his chest. 

“You feeling good?” Stunna asked. 

In this position, you felt the rumble in his chest from his deep voice. And he placed his mouth near your ear so you had a wonderful echoing effect going on that made your pussy clench with need. 

Every time with him felt like the first time. Back in college once more, heavy makeout sessions leading to something more desperate as he climbed on top of you and begged to make you feel good. And god, did he. And had been doing so ever since then. As often as you wanted it or needed it. 

Stunna ran his hands all over your wet skin, playing with the soap bubbles around your limbs. You followed with your own hands, tangling your fingers together whenever you connected. He palmed your breasts, rubbing soap between your nipples and his fingers. You gasped and writhed underneath his touch but he only cooed at you to remain still. 

“Baby, you have to know that sometimes it takes longer than others. And that’s okay. It doesn’t mean that anything is broken,” he said.

“It feels like that. I’ve been good at everything else,” you said. You placed your fingers on top of his, moaning slightly when your nipples sent a twinge of pleasure to your pussy. Stunna dried his hands on the hand towel that sat on the lid of the tub and then grabbed a few grapes, passing some to you and eating a few of his own.

He chewed and brought his fingers back to your skin. His hands lowered to your belly. For no reason at all, or perhaps for every reason, your eyes welled with unshed tears. 

“There’s no right or wrong way to do this,” he whispered in your ear. 

“I just want to make you happy,” you said, settling against his chest. He kissed your temple, plucking at your nipple.

“Ouuue, shit,” you hissed. 

“You make me so happy my chest feels like it’s going to burst from my chest. You already make me happy and no kid is going to accelerate that or change that. If we do have kids, great. If we don’t, that’s great too. You are the love of my life. I just want you safe and happy,” he said. 

You sighed. You wished you could see his face. See how he really felt. Stunna had never minced his words when it came to your relationship. You knew every deep and dirty thing he’d ever done to become the man he is today.

But he also turned his life around when he got with you. He cleaned up his act, got a steady job, and put in the hours to give you a life you deserved. You told him that you were good with just him but he promised to work hard. He started his own consulting company, having a great mind for business. Now he got paid to tell companies how to do better. 

So you chose to believe his words. “You’re going to make a fantastic father, Stunna,” you said. You went to bed at night with daydreams about Stunna playing catch with his son, or taking his daughter out for little dates so she wasn’t impressed by a lame guy trying to court her. 

It was all so vivid, so right, so real that reality and fantasy started to blur. You wanted the white picket fence, Stunna barbequing, while you ran around the backyard with your kids. Playing, roughhousing, or getting into water balloon fights. 

“I want you happy too. Can you honestly say that you’re not disappointed that we’re not pregnant yet?” You asked. You sat up and turned in the tub to face him.

Stunna grabbed your chin and then pulled you into a sweet kiss. “I’m disappointed at the results. Not that you can’t deliver. It’ll happen when it’s time. For now, we just have to enjoy the journey there,” he said.

He kissed you once more and then grabbed your shoulders to turn you around. You listened to the music and the cadence of Stunna’s voice as he talked. He massaged your shoulders, your arms. He kneaded your breasts, back to playing with the nipple and getting you so riled up that you were causing a wave in the water with how badly you were grinding into Stunna.

His dick sat heavy behind you, poking the top of your ass. You placed your hands on his thighs to scoot up since you had drifted too far down. Stunna hissed and then groaned, placing his hands on your shoulders to still your movements.

“I’m trying to be good,” he said. 

“But why?” You asked, shaking your ass on him. Stunna groaned and then choked on a laugh. 

“Because I have plans,” he said.

Your pussy throbbed, picturing what dirty fantasies he had conjured up for this trip. You figured that you’d have some lazy sex, try some tricks to get his cum to swim upstream, and then you’d wait for the hopeful sign on the stick. 

Stunna was having none of that. He was weaving an entire filthy weekend just for you. It made you want to cry. But instead, you moaned and arched your back against him. “Sounds like we need to get started,” you said.

Stunna chuckled. “You’re on my time,” he said. His voice turned deeper and more serious. You moved your head to the side so that you could look at him. 

He grinned and kissed your cheeks, leaving a series of kisses that made you squeal with laughter. 

You continued to bask in the tub, refilling it with hot water when the water grew too tepid. You ate most of the board, filling up on crackers, cheese, grapes and little slices of meat. The wine paired perfectly. 

Stunna got out of the tub first and then helped you out of it. He moaned in appreciation, watching the suds slip down your body. You watched him just as much, the slide of bubbles in all the right places. 

He grabbed a towel and then wrapped you up in it, drying you off. You sighed and closed your eyes, savoring the feeling of his big, strong hands working their way across your body. He knelt down to get your legs too, following your dry legs with bites or kisses or licks. 

You giggled as he found ticklish spots on you. He teased you anyway until you were screaming for him to stop. Fully dry, it was your turn to dry him off. You took your time, starting with his back and drying off his well-rounded ass. You crossed to the front and dried off his chest, working lower and lower, and taking extra care with his dick.

Even at rest he was thick and beautiful. You stroked him and his eyes fluttered shut, a grin on his face. “I’m gon’ get you back for this,” he said.

“No clue what you’re talking about,” you said. You grinned and then traveled further down, drying off his legs. You looked up at him from on your knees and Stunna smirked at you. “So pretty on your knees, baby.”

Your brain turned to mush as his words registered. “You nasty,” you said, unable to form a single coherent thought to flirt back. Stunna helped you to your hands and then took one of the robes and helped you into it. 

He turned you around, tying the robe across your front. “Comfortable?” He asked.

“Very. Thank you,” you said, leaning up to kiss him. He hummed and then grabbed his own robe. He unplugged the tub and the drain groaned as the water went down. He brought the tray and his wine glass to the kitchen. You followed behind with your own glass. 

The music was still going, playing “P.O.V.” by DVSN. You swayed to the music. Stunna refilled both of your glasses. Then he went into the living room with you. He let you take a sip of your wine, the sweet red loosening you up completely. 

Worries slipped from your mind. You lowered your defenses, living in the present. Stunna took your cup and placed it on the wooden coffee table. He grabbed your hands and then pulled you in front of the fireplace.

Heat blew out from it, warming up your legs. You moaned at the sensation. Stunna pulled you into a dance, wrapping his hand around your waist and then holding up your other hand. He swayed you to the music, staring deep into your eyes.

“I love you so much,” you told him. This was exactly what you needed. A moment in time to unwind, de-stress, and focus on you. Focus on your love for your man. 

“I love you. So, so much,” he said. He kissed your forehead and continued to spin you around in circles, each track he put on more nasty than the last. 

It was rare when your body felt at rest. When nothing hurt, nothing affected you, or irritated you. When you truly felt relaxed. Sure, you laid down. Sure, you had your hobbies or watched TV, but your mind still raced. Running faster than the Energizer bunny hopped up on speed and coffee. 

It was no wonder why you were always so damn tired. Your mind rarely gave you a night off. Stunna helped you achieve that tonight. That single perfect feeling of being at rest. Just feeling. Being. Wrapped up in his arms and letting go of the weight of your problems. 

“Hmm, feeling good, baby?” Stunna asked, hugging you closer. 

“Yes, baby,” you said, snuggling further into his chest. He could always sense your moods. You didn’t want to burden him with the darker thoughts. The creeping, intrusive thoughts that screamed that you were being punished for whatever crime you could think of. That you couldn’t get pregnant because you didn’t live a good life. You didn’t always smile and wave at people or you didn’t always keep elevator doors open for people. You were more introverted, genuinely sitting and judging people while you sat in your corner and dreamed of being anywhere else. You’ve made people cry and didn’t feel an ounce of regret for your words. 

Stunna pulled back to look at you. You smiled sweetly at him, turning your thoughts away from your failures and focused on him. Always on him. Always. He made everything better. He brought you peace in a way that was indescribable. 

Stunna smiled as if he could hear every thought you had about him. He kissed you and you hummed. You pulled away with a yawn and Stunna laughed, shaking his head while he kept dancing with you. 

“We better take this to the bedroom while I can still think,” you said and smiled at him. All this pampering made you beyond sleepy. Heavy. 

“No sex tonight, babe,” he said. 

He continued dancing, twirling you around the room to the mournful crooning of “Die For You” by The Weeknd. You tilted your head and blinked at him. Surely he didn’t mean that. Stunna turned to you and chuckled. He kissed your cheek.

“Tonight, we’re resting,” he said.

“But…dick is resting,” you said. 

Stunna chuckled again and shook his head. “It is not. C’mon baby, trust me. Who takes care of you?” He asked and kissed your cheek.

You sighed heavily and rolled your eyes to the ceiling. “You do,” you said.

“Who takes care of you?” He asked again and kissed your other cheek. 

Your lips pinched as you fought your smile. “You do,” you said when you could trust that you wouldn’t laugh. 

“Alright then. We getting some rest tonight, we gonna have a delicious breakfast, and I’m going to take care of everything,” he said.

“Yes, baby,” you said.

“Mhm, it’s ‘yes, Sir’,” Stunna said, his voice adopting your favorite tone. His Dom voice. Whew. It was like a direct line to your pussy. You immediately started throbbing, biting your lip instinctively. 

“Sir?” You asked, grinning like a kid on Christmas morning. 

“You heard me. Now get that look off your face, I said no sex tonight.” He tapped your nose, belying his serious tone. But he already got the engine going. You rubbed yourself against him. You hummed as you did so, admiring the feel of his body hidden beneath his robe. 

“I promise you’ll enjoy this weekend more if you listen,” he said. He raised an eyebrow at you, his jaw flexing with his ‘serious’ face. You grinned and ignored him, turning in his arms and rubbing your ass on his crotch.

He hissed and his hand came to press down on your back. The music switched to something more upbeat, “679” by Fetty Wap bringing out your inner whore. He couldn’t put something like that on without expecting you to shake it on him. He knew what trap songs did to you. 

He began to dance on you back, pushing his growing bulge into your ass. You danced for the entire song, showing out for him. You got your knees involved, not an easy thing these days, and danced on him like you were trying to get him to propose all over again. 

When the song ended, you fell into each other laughing. You coughed and then laughed again, out of breath from dancing and from laughing so hard. The next song slowed everything back down and Stunna pulled you into his arms.

“You gon’ pay for that in the morning,” he said.

“Oh, I’m so scared,” you said and stuck your tongue out at him. 

Stunna gasped and widened his eyes at you. Even you couldn’t mistake the glint of mischief in his eyes. As much as he liked your obedience, you knew he secretly loved your bratty ass. 

“C’mon Miss Big Bad, it’s time for bed,” he said.

“Booo, you’re no fun,” you said. 

Stunna laughed. He grabbed the remote from his robe pocket and switched off the music. You crossed your arms and cocked a hip for good measure. 

“It’s almost three am. Get in the bed,” he said. 

“It is?” You asked. You patted your robe for your phone but it wasn’t there. Did you leave it in the bathroom? You intended to hunt for it to check the time. Stunna stopped you with his hands on your shoulders. He flipped you around to see the digital clock on one of the end tables.

“Oh, damn,” you said. You yawned, confirming that it was well past your bedtime. “Sure I can’t convince you for some fun?” 

Stunna turned off the lights in the kitchen and living room, following behind your heavy footfalls down the hallway. “I’m sure. This is my weekend,” he said.

You giggled, growing delirious with sleepiness. You were at the point where you were yawning every two seconds, growing frustrated from doing it so often. Stunna steered you to the bedroom and helped you strip out of the warm robe. He took off his own and hung it in the closet. 

Stunna pulled the covers down and you scooted onto the bed. You sighed. What spell did he put on you? You were drained. You had absolutely nothing left when just a few minutes ago, you were shaking your ass harder than a stripper working off her debt. 

Stunna got into bed with you and then snuggled in close against your back. He was so damn warm. You moaned, stretching out against him, pushing your ass into his dick. Stunna wrapped his arm around your middle.

“Night, baby,” he said.

Your body melted against his, sweet lullaby of his breathing sending you off to la la land. Stunna nudged you. “Nha?” 

“Good night, baby,” he said. 

“Ni-” You yawned. 

Stunna nudged you again. You giggled. “Nighty night, Sir,” you said. 

Stunna chuckled. He kissed your cheek. “I just want you to remember that you brought this weekend on yourself,” he said. 

The threat would have worked if you heard it. You were already fast asleep, drifting into a dreamless wonderland.

After a shower to wake yourself up, you followed the heavenly aroma of Stunna’s cooking. You padded down the hallway in your robe. You found Stunna in the kitchen, humming to himself with a towel thrown over his shoulder. 

He wore his robe as well, taking a scoop of what he cooked and tasting it. He hummed in satisfaction and then sprinkled some more pepper on it. He turned to the doorway when he heard your knock on the counter. 

“Good morning, beautiful,” he said.

You smiled at him and sat on the barstool. Stunna brought the pan over to you so that you could see what was on the menu. He made a scramble of eggs, sausage, bell peppers, and onions. The smell alone made your mouth water. 

You moaned and smiled at him. “That smells so good,” you said.

“I’m glad. You’re going to need your strength today,” he said. 

You giggled and rolled your eyes. “Promises, promises,” you said. Stunna turned to look at you. He saw your evil smile and shook his head.

“Okay, just wait,” he said. 

You talked about nothing in particular, talked just to hear his voice, as you discussed your families, your work schedules. You discussed the latest books you both had read while you ate his delicious food. Each bite burst with flavor between all the different breakfast foods. Stunna should’ve opened a damn restaurant. 

Stunna made himself some coffee and then tea for you. You doctored it while you told him a story about your annoying coworker, only feeling slightly bad about mocking their exact tone of voice whenever they talked to you. 

When both of your drinks were to your respective tastes, Stunna took your hand and led you towards the back of the house. You hadn’t had a chance to explore out here yet. The hallway was in the same soft tones as the rest of the house and the short hallway behind the kitchen led out to a back porch. 

You gasped, taking in the view. “Oh. My. God,” you said, looking out at the expanse of the woods. The house sat on a hill, overlooking the top of the trees. Beyond it, you could see right down into the city. 

With the morning’s soft oranges and babiest blue, the view was like out of a painting. Birds chirped in the background, sounds of the woods waking up. Water ran somewhere in the distance. A woodpecker tested his beak against a tree. 

“This is…” you said.

“Amazing, I know,” he said and laughed. He led you to a nearby swinging bench. The wood was light colored, with white and blue striped cushions. You shrieked and looked at him. 

“There will be plenty of time to read out here, promise,” he said, reading your mind.

You sighed at him. “I don’t deserve you,” you said.

“Sure you do, baby. You make me wanna do better,” he said. 

“You already are,” you said. He sat down on the swinging bench first, putting his coffee on the wood stump beside it. It had been sanded and polished, providing a natural table to set your own cup down. 

Stunna pulled you to sit in his lap. When you looked at him, he just smiled innocently. You turned back around, suspicion clearly written all over your face. Stunna went for the tie at your waist, tugging on it.

“What are you doing?” You asked, covering the front of the robe with your hands.

“Move your hands,” he said, his voice turning darker. It was completely at odds with the early morning peace. 

You looked back at him. Stunna grabbed your legs and spread them over his own, widening your legs until you felt the pull in your thighs. You lowered your hands and Stunna untied your robe, pulling it open to reveal your entire body. 

You wanted to cover up, you were so exposed. Anyone could be lookin at you. You pictured some freak in the woods at this exact moment, peeking through his binoculars. Stunna moved his hands up and down your body, squeezing your breasts, your tummy, and then palming your mound.

You twitched with a moan, trying to close your legs. Stunna widened his stance, opening your legs wider for his searching fingers. He brought one hand up to your lips. “Suck,” he commanded.

Heat flashed over your skin. A tingle working its way down your spine. You opened your mouth and sucked on his middle two fingers. He fucked your mouth with his fingers, pushing it in and out, and hummed as he leaned to the side to watch you. You felt him throb beneath your ass and you moaned. 

It had been entirely too long since he dominated you so well. In all the mix of having sex, you forgot what it was like to tease. To flirt. To obey. You swirled your tongue around his fingers, eyeing him as you did so. You moaned once more on his fingers. 

“Hm, nasty ass. Get it nice and wet,” he said. 

You drooled on his fingers, growing wetter by the second. He continued to push his fingers inside. Your eyes drooped, watching him bite his lip. Watching his eyes turn darker. His jaw flex. All of it made it harder to breathe properly. 

Stunna pulled his fingers out and you whimpered, pouting at him. He used one hand to spread your pussy lips and then brought his wet fingers to your entrance, pushing in. You moaned, head falling back onto his shoulder. You gasped, your lip quivering. 

“Did sucking my fingers turn you on?” He asked.

You nodded, whimpering too much to answer him. Stunna chuckled. “Nasty fuckin’ slut,” he said, pushing his fingers in deeper.

“Fuu–,” you moaned, clenching around his fingers. You began to twitch and jerk on his body, alternating between gasping for air and moaning. Stunna didn’t give you an inch. He continued to finger fuck you, curling his fingers inside and making you cross your eyes.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck. I’m gonna, I’m gonna…” you moaned. 

Stunna stilled his fingers. You whimpered and gyrated on his fingers. Stunna kissed your ear and your jaw, pulling his fingers slowly out of you. You whimpered more as he dragged his wet fingers up to your clit.

You throbbed. You wanted to cum so badly, you were willing to do some unholy things for it. “Please,” you whispered. 

“Remember when you didn’t listen yesterday?” He asked. He kissed your cheek after his question and you stuttered with your next breath. 

“Aww, don’t punish me, Stunna,” you said. You gasped after you said his name, realizing your mistake. 

Stunna sighed and nudged his nose against your ear. He nibbled on the shell of your ear while he moved his fingers in giant circles, making your lower belly cramp with need. “See, I was gonna let you cum. But that mouth reckless,” he said.

“Wait–”

Stunna shushed you, moving his left hand under your leg and lifting. You were already spread open as far as you were able. Lifting it ensured that you didn’t move without his say-so. 

“The things I was gonna treat you to,” he said, and hummed. His dick throbbed beneath you and you whimpered. 

“I can be good–”

Stunna shushed you again, plunging his fingers back inside. His fingers stretched you, preparing you for what he was going to do next. He drove your orgasm to the peak, holding you open when you wanted nothing more than to trap his hand between your thighs. You rode his fingers, gasping for air.

“Needy little slut, too? Chase that shit since you want it so bad,” he said. You moaned, wrapping your arms behind his head. You scratched at the nape of his neck while he sent you into another atmosphere. 

“Oue, oue, oue!” You screamed, your belly tightening as your orgasm approached. Before you could cum, Stunna pulled his fingers out. “Nooooo!” 

Stunna pushed his fingers into your mouth. You tasted yourself on his fingers. You moaned, slurping yourself up. Stunna groaned and rolled his hips. You made sure to use your tongue, licking up every last drop. 

“I decide when you cum,” Stunna said and licked your neck. You moaned and closed your eyes. There were too many sensations. It was making you spaz out, jerking and twitching on his lap. 

You nodded. “Yes, Sir,” you said around his fingers. 

Stunna pulled his fingers out of your mouth. He wiped it on his robe and then pushed you to stand. He stood up as well and took off his robe. He quickly folded it and put it on the ground. He sat down on the swinging bench and beckoned you to step closer. 

His dick was gloriously thick and long, all the way down to the tip. You moaned, staring at the bead of pre-cum leaking out. Stunna grabbed the base of his dick and moaned, stroking his dick. 

“Knees. Open,” he groaned.

You dropped to your knees, kneeling on his robe. A slight breeze caressed your skin but the sun was starting to warm up. Stunna’s beautiful, rich dark skin glowed with the sun. It casted pretty shadows on his face as he looked down at you. 

You opened your mouth, waiting for him to give you the go ahead to take him. Stunna bit his lip, furrowing his eyebrows as he stroked himself faster. “You’re so fuckin’ sexy when you listen,” he said. 

You nestled between his legs, watching with rapt attention as he stroked himself in a loose grip. You whimpered when it seemed like he was just going to make you watch. You looked at him and he smirked. 

“Your needy ass want this dick huh?” He asked.

“Yes, Sir, I want it,” you said.

“You gonna swallow me down like a good slut?” He asked. Your pussy clenched painfully hearing him call you that. You nodded and Stunna groaned.

“Good. Take this dick,” he said. He planted his feet to still the swinging bench. You placed your hands on his dick, taking over stroking for him. 

You inhaled the deeply masculine scent of him. You kissed the tip of his dick and Stunna put his arms around the back of the bench. He adjusted in his seat and then watched you open your mouth and take him in. 

“Fuuck,” he moaned, throwing his head back. You giggled and then started to bob your head. You relaxed your jaw, getting into a nice rhythm. Stunna groaned and you looked at him, watched as his face went through all kinds of emotions. Too many for you to name. 

“Deeper, take me deeper. I know you can do it,” he encouraged.

You leaned up higher on your knees and then did as he said, took him deeper in your mouth. You took him fast and deep, the only sound was the sound of your gawk gawk skills, Stunna’s moaning, and the birds overhead. 

“That’s a good slut. That’s a good fuckin’ slut. Taking me well. Ou, ou, just like that. Just like that,” Stunna said, gripping the sides of your face and pulling you down faster. You breathed through your nose as he face fucked you, taking over control and treating you like his own fleshlight. 

Your drool slid down the side of his dick, mixing with his precum. You moaned at the taste of him, swirling your tongue around his tip. 

Stunna jerked his hips and looked at you with that crooked smile of his. “You ready for this nut?” He asked.

“Yes, Sir,” you slobbered on him.

Stunna dropped his head to the back of the bench. He continued to face fuck you, his dick jumping in your mouth. He groaned and then moaned loudly, cumming down your throat. You swallowed him, milking him for all he was worth. You continued to suck as he came and he twitched, eyes rolling, as he moaned again. 

You released him when he tapped on your cheek. You grinned, licking your lips and finally working out the crick in your jaw. Taking him fucking hurt sometimes but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You couldn’t explain why it thrilled you so much to get your husband to cum in your mouth. You felt a personal satisfaction that it was you who did it. And that you were able to continue to do it. 

Stunna grinned and caressed your jaw. He pulled you into a kiss, tongue dueling with yours. He moaned, deepening the kiss. He pulled back roughly and dropped his forehead to yours. “Bedroom. Now,” he said.

You giggled and hopped up from the porch, running inside. You headed straight to the bedroom, hopping onto the bed. Stunna followed closely behind, dick bobbing. You bit your lip, watching it. You wanted him back inside you. You wanted to please him some more.

Stunna went to his side of the room, pulling the mysterious black bag out from beneath the bed. You laid on your side watching him. He unzipped the duffle, eyeing you while he rummaged around in it. 

You peeked over the edge, eyes growing wider as your brain stalled on what was inside. Different types of ropes and handcuffs. A belt. Dildos and vibrators. You lifted your eyes to him while he selected a silk rope. 

He gestured for you to offer your hands. You pouted at him but he stared you down. His chest rose and fell with his breaths and you whined as you lifted your hands. Stunna slipped the black silk rope over your wrists and tightened it, securing it to you. He tested the pull on it and asked if it hurt you.

You shook your head. You tested the rope, trying to get out of it yourself. You couldn’t. You smirked at him. 

“Can you get out?” He asked.

“Nope,” you said, popping the p. Stunna grinned and you had to sigh from seeing his beautiful, wide smile. He pulled the rope, pulling you into a standing position. He leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. 

“Sit,” he said. You sat back down on the bed. He pulled you to stand once more and you smirked at him, thighs slick with your essence. Your belly twisted with need. “Sit.”

You sat once more and looked to him for your next command. Stunna smiled. “Not being a brat today?” He asked.

You shrugged. “It’ll come when you least expect it,” you said. 

He chuckled and then lifted you higher onto the bed. Your legs dangled off the end of the bed, toes brushing against the ottoman. Stunna got in between, pushing your legs further apart. 

He grinned at you and then settled down onto his elbows. He lowered his face to your pussy, nudging his nose against your pussy, tickling the hairs there. You giggled and tried to close your legs. 

Stunna placed a kiss to your pussy lips and then looked up at you. “Hands above your head. If you move them, I’ll stop,” he said.

You kicked your foot against the ottoman. “You’re so mean!” You said. 

Stunna tilted his head at you. “When I least expect it huh?” He asked.

You giggled and shrugged your shoulders. “I’m a woman of many talents,” you said. 

Stunna shook his head. “Goofy ass. Hands up,” he said.

“Yes, Sir,” you mocked, putting your hands above your head on the bed. Stunna lowered himself once more to your pussy, inhaling deeply and humming in pleasure. “Smell so good,” he said.

He opened his mouth and rolled out his tongue, using it to separate your pussy lips. You moaned, bringing your arm to your mouth and biting down as he found your clit. His mouth was hot on your clit and you moaned. He teased you, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking. 

“Ouee, shit, ouee shit,” you moaned. 

“Let me hear you, baby,” he said.

You moaned louder, cursing to the high heavens, as he licked your pussy. He brought his fingers to your pussy and plunged his fingers inside.

“Oh god!” You moaned, wanting to lower your arms to hold onto him but you didn’t want him to stop. Far from it, your eyes were rolling behind your closed lids from the sheer pleasure of his tongue on you.

“Ohhh, ohhh, oueeeeee,” you wailed. 

He pumped his fingers and ate you with a vengeance. Like he was truly punishing you for something. Damned if you knew what it was. Perhaps it was your attitude. You took it a bit too far. You made a mental note to do it again. If it got him eating you out like this…fuck, how long had it been? 

When did you lose yourself to schedules and sex dates and a little stick deciding your mood? When did you turn into such a crone that saw sex as another chore? A stepping stone to the baby you wanted? 

You twitched, groaning. “Oh fuck, baby. What did I do?” You cried. Stunna curled his fingers, rubbing against your sweet spot and your cries turned sharp, loud, piercing. 

“Not a damn thing,” he said against your pussy, lips wet from your dripping essence. 

“Then why you doing this to meeeee?” You cried. 

“‘Cause I can,” he said. He returned to eating you out, proving that he was only playing with you earlier. Your thighs trembled with pleasure. Your breathing turned ragged and sharp, stuttering in your chest as you fought to moan at the same time. 

“Sir, please,” you moaned. 

Stunna slurped up your essence, fingers still pumping faster and faster. You couldn’t do anything but moan, incoherent words and sounds spilling from you. Stunna latched onto your pussy one last time and you came on his tongue, came with loud shrieks and groans. Your body flopped on the bed. Stunna held your legs open and continued to devour you while you came undone at the seams. 

He ate you until you came down, huffing and puffing with effort. Your body felt like jelly. Weightless. You stared up at Stunna in amazement while he climbed onto the bed. The bed dipped with his weight. 

He lifted you by the hips and flipped you over onto your stomach. You went with little resistance, letting him position you how he liked while he checked on you. “Feeling good, baby?” 

“I think I died. This is heaven, surely?” You asked.

Stunna chuckled. “No,” he said. He pulled the duffle bag over to him and pulled out a vibrator. He teased you with it on the lowest setting, rubbing around your sensitive clit. “Oof, baby, please,” you begged. It was too soon for you to come again. Your body jerked, trying to get away from how good it felt.

Stunna leaned down over you and kissed your cheek. “I decide when you cum,” he said and kissed you again. 

You moaned as he pushed the vibrator into your sopping wet pussy. He turned up the setting and you moaned, grinding into the bed as the vibrator got you horny all over again. You were still humping the bed when Stunna positioned you on your elbows and knees. Not easy to do with your hands cuffed together.

He smacked your ass and you shrieked, pussy clenching around the vibrator. “But baby!” 

“Don’t ‘baby’ me. Yo ass thought shit was sweet?” He asked. He smacked your ass again, lighting up the other cheek with dry fire that made your pussy throb. 

“Pleaaaase,” you moaned. Stunna delivered more smacks, spanking you. You moaned after each one, stretching your back so that he had more areas to hit. Your ass was on fire but the inferno in your lower belly was even worse. 

The vibrator pushed right against your spot and you started to shake, thighs quaking, lip quivering. You moaned, pussy dripping with your essence around the vibrator. Stunna grabbed it and started to fuck you with it.

“Oue, fuck, oue fuck. Please, don’t stop. Don’t stop,” you moaned and begged, fucking him back on the vibrator.

“That’s my good fuckin’ slut. Chase that shit how you need,” he cooed to you. 

“Need…you…” you moaned, trying to fight off your orgasm. 

“What was that?” Stunna asked. He continued to fuck you with the vibrator, your pussy making all kinds of loud squelching noises. Like your pussy didn’t want to let go of the vibrator, not completely. “Can’t hear you over the sound of this pussy gripping the fuck outta this vibrator. Guess you don’t need me after all, huh?” 

You shook your head. “Need you,” you moaned. “Need that fat dick in this pussy, now!” You begged. 

“Tell me what you need?” He asked. He ignored you and continued to fuck you with the vibrator, turning it up to the highest setting. You sniffled, tears making your eyes itch. You were close to cumming, so close it hurt, but you wanted to cum on his dick.

“Fill me up, please. Please, please,” you whispered. 

“I love it when you beg for this dick,” he said. He pulled out the vibrator and replaced it with his dick. 

You moaned and gripped the sheets when he entered you, sliding in easily. The vibrator helped you prepare for his size, prepare for the sheer fullness of him stretching your needy little hole. 

“Yes, yes, yes!” You screamed. Stunna placed his hands on your hips and stroked. He rolled his hips and made you slam on his dick.

Your ass smacked against his thighs, igniting fresh waves of heat to travel from your ass, down your legs, and straight to your pussy. Stunna moaned, slamming your harder. Pressure built in your body, steam rising, until you were screaming like a tea kettle.

“Oh fuck!” Stunna moaned. You squeezed his dick as you came hard, furious, losing your voice with the force of it. He stroked a handful of times before joining you, filling you to the brim with his cum. 

Your body jerked one last time, twitching with his throbbing dick. He pumped it into you, body shaking as he pulled out. You shivered, crawling forward.

“Mhm, I’m not done,” Stunna said, out of breath and sweaty. He grabbed the vibrator from the bed and pushed it back in, trapping his cum inside. He fingered your clit and made you moan, made you clench and hopefully soak up his cum. 

You collapsed onto the bed and waved your arm. “Mercy, mercy,” you whispered.

Stunna chuckled and lowered the setting on the vibrator. He still kept it lodged inside you as he went to the bathroom and wetted a washcloth. He wiped down your sweaty, slick skin. He finally took out the vibrator and cleaned up the cum that slipped out of you. You watched it leak out with him and he kissed your temple. 

“There’s plenty more where that came from,” he promised. 

He spent the rest of the weekend doing just that. Filling you up like an absolute twinkie. The last thing on your mind was having a baby. You just wanted him with you, on you, in you, and all around you. You couldn’t get enough of talking with him, laughing with him, looking into his eyes while you both came at the same time.

And then you ate and danced and spent the rest of the weekend in your own little bubble. It was beyond heaven. Beyond perfection. You wished you could freeze this weekend. Or play it on a loop. You fell in love with your husband all over again this past weekend. You had no words to thank him. To cherish him.

A week later, you stood with him in the bathroom waiting for the stupid ass timer to go off. Stunna held your hand and kissed the back of it. He locked eyes with you in the mirror. 

“Whatever it says, we’ll deal with it together,” he said.

You smiled and nodded, trying to put on a brave face for him. You didn’t know what you would do if it was negative again. You couldn’t face the disappointment in his eyes. The way he would try to be strong for you. 

Your phone dinged and you took a deep breath, grabbing the pregnancy stick and flipping it over.

“Let’s goooooo!!!!” Stunna screamed. 

The dark, clear plus sign didn’t seem real. Your hand shook as you turned to face Stunna. “We did it! We did it!” You screamed.

Stunna hugged you and lifted you off of the ground. “You did it baby. You did it, I love you. I love you,” he said and kissed your face.

You giggled from all of the kisses, hugging him back as fiercely. Stunna lowered you to the ground and then kissed your socks off. He even bent you back with the force of the kiss, the happiness bursting through him was like the first break of sun after a cloudy day.

“Thank you,” he said, straightening up. He cupped your cheeks and kissed you once more. Your lips danced, pouring in all of your frustrations, hurts, and regrets. All of it was washed away with the news. 

“Come on, beautiful, we need to celebrate!” He said. He yanked on your arm. 

You laughed, trying to keep up with his long strides to your bedroom. “How?” You asked.

“With more dick!” He yelled over his shoulder. You giggled all the way to your bedroom.

The end.

You know there's more! The Secret Big Stunna Files

Taglist:

@planetblaque @blackerthings @browngirldominion @we-outsiiiide @thecookiebratz

@iv0rysoap @notapradagurl7 @logansblackgf @miyuhpapayuh @xo-goldengirl

@kindofaintrovert @flydotty @judymfmoody @slippinninque @soufcakmistress

@henneseyhoe @westside-rot @melaninpov @twocentuar @blackpinup22

@babybratzmaraj @theyscreamsannii @kiabialia @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @00aijia00

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@liyaah02 @monaeesstuff @amethyst09 @harmshake @satoruya

@theunsweetenedtruth @ciaqui @multiversefanfics @chaos-4baby @yasminsqueendom

[luvfy0dor]

Hii! This is my first time requesting, and I hope you don't mind. There's a trend on TikTok called my marmalade. Where's they wearing an Ushanka hat? Can you do one with Fyodor where you steal his Ushanka hat just to do the trend?

“My Marmalade ♡⁠˖” Fyodor Dostoevsky x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

Warnings; only briefly proofread.

Description; Borrowing your boyfriends ushanka for a tiktok trend

A/n; Hi! Dw I don't mind at all!! I hadn't seen this trend until I looked it up, but I like the video where the girl used the cat as the hat, it was cute lol

ೃ⁀➷

Tiktok trends weren't entirely your thing, but upon seeing this one you figured why not try it out. You stared at your phone, the video of a girl blowing kisses into the camera playing on the screen. She had a fur hat on and the white tufts were glittery in that specific lighting. There was a similar hat around somewhere - most likely on your boyfriends head. All you had to do was obtain it by either stealing it briefly or asking to borrow it. You didn't really want to explain why you needed his hat because he'd probably find it silly, so you chose the first option. Even if he caught you taking his hat it's not like he'd be mad. If anything he'd either find it mildly amusing or he just simply wouldn't care.

You began your search for the fluffy accessory, feeling as though you had struck gold upon remembering your lover was in the shower. You headed back towards your shared bedroom, hoping he had left it on your dresser where he usually did. You knew him well enough to be correct and you snatched the hat off of it before making your way back to the living room. Your fingers brushed over the soft fur as you pulled up the audio and propped up the phone against a lamp. You set the timer to three seconds, starting the recording and taking a few steps back. The countdown sound had covered the clicking of the door and Fyodors soft footsteps exiting the bathroom. The audio sounded throughout the living room while you watched yourself dance in the camera.

You had a smile on your face and your hands on your hips as you started lip syncing the chorus, having watched enough videos with lyrics that spelled out the pronunciation to do it relatively accurately. As you brought your hand to your mouth to blow a kiss, Fyodor spoke, making you jump like a cat at the sight of a cucumber. "Ah, that's where my hat went." His voice was soft and smooth, mostly monotonous as usual. You could feel heat focus in your cheeks as you embarrassedly stood there. "Well I wasn't gonna barge in on your shower to ask for it." You said, trying to justify yourself. He smiles slightly in amusement and approaches you, adjusting the hat so that the flaps were hooked together on the top instead of at the sides.

"I believe that's how most people who are participating in the trend are wearing it." He says, pressing a kiss to your cheek with his hands on your shoulders. "You've seen it?" You raise an eyebrow, unaware of whether or not he had recently downloaded tiktok. He shook his head though. "No, it is quite coincidental that this is trending now, though. I had thought about the song the other day, so I looked up the lyrics and the videos were some of the top results. The song was popular when I was young." He explains to you, gazing at you from beyond his eyelashes. Your mouth forms an 'o' shape as you nod in understanding.

"So you don't think it's stupid or anything?" You ask, once again raising an eyebrow. Fyodor seems to think for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "Sort of. I don't really understand the 'slavic-core' thing. I suppose it's appreciation though, and that is refreshing to see." He says, shrugging as his finger rests on his chin. "That's fair." You say, before grabbing your phone and deleting the clip. You look to see if Fyodor is going anywhere before restarting the timer only to be met with him staring back at you. "Should I leave while you film?" He asks with a tilt of his head, his damp hair cascading towards the right side. You hesitantly shake your head, grabbing his hand gently. "No, no, you can stay. You did the hat thing for me, so I don't wanna kick you out." You say. He smiles and sits down on the couch, his soft stare fixated upon your body as the countdown started again.

You blushed, covering the bottom half of your face with your hand as you backed up again. The music started up again and you did the little routine once more, your boyfriend low key amused as he watched with a neutral face. You finished it and retrieved your phone with your tongue poking out of the corner of your mouth as you watched the video over. You thought it was cute, so you wrote out a caption and tags and posted it. Fyodor was still staring at you when you looked back over at him. "What?" He let out a small amused chuckle. "You just look sort of silly, my dear." He says. An embarrassed smile pulls at the corners of your lips as you sigh and nod. "Yeah, I could imagine." You murmur against the skin of your fingers. He pulls you closer to him by your waist, pressing two soft kisses to your side, mimicking the 'mwah' sound in the audio, making you blush a little before trying to push his head away from your body.

"Stop teasing me." you playfully say as he hums against the fabric of your shirt. "I'm not teasing you, Moya lyubov, I'm just reenacting your little video." He claims. You run your fingers through his hair and sigh. Your couldn't complain though, after all, he did let you borrow his favorite hat to participate in the trend.

A/n; hope y'all enjoy this because if I flop.

[thewriterthatghostedyou]

The Dragon and The Wolf

Chapter 2

Trigger warnings: minor character death, canon level violence

This chapter is mainly setting up for future chapters and is me trying to follow canon before breaking it lol. I’m trying to stick to the show but will lengthen things out to fit the story better. Hope you all enjoy!

Divider by @zaldritzosrose

You had slept soundly after a modest dinner with your brother, the fine beds in the Red Keep were much more comfortable than the ones you had stayed in while traveling South.

As you sat up in bed, stretching slightly you smiled at the thought of the tourney beginning today. Cregan had been too young to see the last one the king had hosted celebrating the coming of a son who had never arrived being a babe himself and you were excited to cheer your brother on. Perhaps it wasn’t ladylike in the South to enjoy fights, but that was never an ideal held by your father. He had insisted that you receive archery lessons alongside your brother. To which you happily paid attention to.

“My lady, may we come in?” A soft voice spoke as the door to your chambers were slightly opened.

“Oh yes of course.” You hurriedly got up from the bed and smoothed out your nightgown instinctively.

Two women you had been briefly introduced to last night walked in with shy smiles before starting to prepare your gown for the day. The other lady walked closer to you and motioned for you to sit at a richly adorned vanity.

You obliged and sat into the plush chair looking at your reflection in the mirror. “I suppose I should have my hair out of my face until I get used to the Southern heat.” You ran your fingers through your hair, before looking at the bed behind you and seeing a richly decorated gown being prepared.

You sighed as the events from yesterday returned to you. The petition. “Actually I will trust your judgment.” You smiled at the woman behind you before straightening yourself in front of the mirror. “What are your names again? With all the excitement of yesterday I can’t remember what you had said.” You asked softly as the older woman began brushing your hair.

“My name is Adianna, my lady. My partner’s name is Ursa.”

You repeated the names once watching as Adianna’s skilled fingers began to weave your hair into a regal braid.

As excited as you were for the tourney you dreaded the thought of the petition. It was exactly what your father had told you about the South. Lords and second sons grabbing at power while letting the small folk starve and suffer. You could almost guarantee that the small folk didn’t care about the succession to Driftmark. Well, perhaps those who lived in the Blackwater Bay did seeing as whoever came out on top would lead them.

With one quick flick of her hands, Adianna finished your hair and you shot her a grateful smile. “It looks beautiful! Thank you!” The older maid returned the smile as you walked over to your gown. It had a high neckline and was in your house colors with gray embellishments around the trunk. With ease, the two ladies had you dressed and straightened any wrinkles they could see.

“You look lovely, my lady.” Ursa said, curtising demurely before stepping back.

“Only because of both of your talents.” You returned the compliment, swishing slightly to see the full gown, enjoying the feel of the satin against your legs.

Ursa blushed slightly and curtsied again before leaving in a hurry, a shy smile on her face.

“We will be a call away whenever you would like to prepare for the joust.” Adianna curtsied as well before following her partner.

You studied yourself in an ornate full length mirror as you overheard Adianna talking with a deeper voice. “She’s ready, my lord.”

“Thank you.” You connect the voice to your brother and turn to face him nervously. “Might as well get this over with.” Cregan offered you his arm with a teasing smile.

“Ah yes, the sooner this is over the sooner I can watch you get knocked into the dirt.” You giggled as you took his arm. He was wearing leather armor that looked brand new, adorned with small metal embellishments to fit in at court.

He chuckled and shook his head as the two of you walked arm in arm through the halls. “Do you truly have such little faith in my abilities, sister?”

“I’ll have to see the other knights fight before I’m able to answer.” The two of your footfalls thudding against the stone floors as you take in the interior of the red keep. As you had arrived late last night, you were too exhausted to truly take in your new surroundings.

The path you were on was in a massive hallway, with ceilings reaching lengths you had thought impossible. You tried not to gawk at the multiple massive chandeliers that you passed under and noticed numerous banners that bore the signature Targaryen signal in a striking black and red. The tanned stones were surprisingly bare for the capital but they were smoothed to perfection with white columns holding the floor above you.

“What do you think is going to happen?” You asked as you approached two massive iron double doors.

Cregan was unable to answer as the doors opened and a loud voice rang out. “Lord Cregan Stark and his sister the Lady Y/n Stark.”

You bristled slightly, not expecting to be announced so officially before standing straighter.

There are many other lords and ladies in attendance and it appears as if you and your brother were one the the last to arrive. The two of you walk down the stairs and you notice the obvious division in the room.

On the right stood Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen standing next to an older man with white hair that you assumed was her husband Daemon Targaryen. On her other side stood Lucerys Velaryon with his brother and two other women with Targaryen hair behind him.

On the left side was the Queen, dressed in a dark green gown surrounded by her children. You recognized Aemond and was able to assume that the other man who yawned was her eldest son Aegon. The girl standing next to the queen gave you a small smile. That must be Princess Helaena.

The tension in the room was palpable as both Greens and Blacks stared at the two of you, waiting to see which side you stood on. You knew that this was not a decision to be made lightly. Standing with the Greens implied that you believed that Lucerys should be replaced as heir. Standing with the Blacks meant the opposite. Something told you that lines couldn’t exactly be redrawn after this.

You flicked your eyes to Cregan, not looking at either side, waiting for him to make a choice. Cregan had no hesitation as he led you to the Blacks, honor leading his actions. You followed him easily as another pair was announced, but you didn’t catch their names as you stood next to your brother facing off against the Greens.

You saw Prince Jacaerys give you a small smile that you instinctively returned before turning back towards the iron throne. It was a large jagged thing, although you supposed that nothing else could describe a chair made of swords.

You sneak a quick glance at the Greens, noticing that Princess Helaena seemed unphased by the two of you showing loyalty to the Blacks and instead seemed to be fiddle with her sleeve. It was her brother; however, that caught your attention as two nobles walked over to the Green side he seemed to look past them. You felt chills climb your spine as his stare pierced into you.

You looked away quickly after meeting his eye and swallowed nervously.

The chatter that was occurring died out as the Hand walked up to the Iron Throne.

“Though it is the great hope of this court that Lord Corlys Velaryon survive his wounds, we gather here with the grim task of dealing with the succession of Driftmark. As hand, I speak with the King’s voice on this and all other matters.”

You were surprised to see them start without the king, although hearing about his condition perhaps the journey to the throne was too much for him.

He sat on the Iron throne as he finished before resuming. “The Crown will now hear the petitions. Ser Vaemond of House Velaryon.”

He motioned for the older man to step forward and you watched as the younger Prince took a deep breath to steady himself as Vaemond shot him a nasty glare.

“My queen.” He bowed his head to the Hand's daughter. Before turning to him. “My lord Hand.”

“The history of our noble houses extends beyond the seven kingdoms to the days of Old Valyria.” You furrowed your brow at that as the Hightowers had no Valyrian blood before remembering that it was to House Targaryen Vaemond was supposedly speaking too.

“For as long as House Targaryen has ruled the skies, House Velaryon has ruled the seas.”

You looked at the Greens again as Vaemond spoke about the history of their houses and was surprised to see Prince Aemond’s gaze still on you. Before you could look away from him he gave you a wide smile that made you feel like your skin was crawling. The glint in his lone eye seemed more dangerous than kind.

Cregan nudged you slightly before turning your attention back to the matter at hand, his gaze also directed at Prince Aemond before returning to you with a sigh.

“The true unimpeachable blood of House Velaryon runs through my veins.” You froze at those words. Vaemond was venturing into dangerous territory.

“As it does in my sons, the offspring of Laenor Velaryon.” The Princess cut in pointedly. “If you cared so much about your house’s blood Ser Vaemond, you would not be so bold to supplant its rightful heir.” She scoffed before digging back into the man with her words. “No, you only speak for yourself and for your own ambition.”

“You will have the chance to make your own petition, Princess Rhaenyra.” The Queen spoke sternly. “Do Ser Vaemond the courtesy of allowing his to be heard.”

Vaemond gave the Princess a smug grin as he resumed his speech. “What do you know of Velaryon blood, princess?” He held out his arm mockingly. “I could cut my veins and show it to you and you still wouldn’t recognize it.”

You rolled your eyes at that. Probably because all people Targaryen and Velaryon alike bled red and not with the signal of their house plastered on it.

“This is about the future and survival of my great house, not yours.” Vaemond looked at each of the great Lords imploringly before respectfully bowing to the Queen and the hand.

“My queen, my lord hand. This is a matter of blood, not ambition.” Cregan huffed slightly besides you which caused you to bite back your own laugh. Your father had been right about King’s Landing being full of sycophants and ambitious second sons claiming that their reach for power was honor instead of deception.

“I place the continuation of the survival of my house and my line above all. I humbly put myself before you as my brother’s successor… the Lord of Driftmark and Lord of the Tides.”

“Thank you, Ser Vaemond.” The hand spoke. And you were glad that his long winded speech was finally over.

“Princess Rhaenyra, you may now speak for your son Lucerys Velaryon.”

The Princess nodded and refused to look the Queen in the eye as she stepped forward acting exasperated with the idea of this gathering.

“If I am to grace this farce with some answer, I will start by reminding the court that nearly 20 years ago, in this very-“

The Princess was cut off by the heavy doors to the throne room opening with a screech.

There were gasps and whispers as the king hobbled into view flanked by two kings guard.

“King Viserys of House Targaryen, the first of his name, King of the Andals, and the Rhoynar, and the First Men. Lord of the Seven kingdoms and Protector of the Realm.” The whole court bowed as varying degrees of realization occurred with you and your brother leading the way.

When you glanced back at the Princess you saw the hand scrambling to leave the Iron Throne in the background.

The room was deathly silent as he staggered slowly down the stairs to the throne. It seemed as if the rumors of his health failing were true as his progress was slow and breathing haggard.

As the king passed Princess Rhaenys, she looked at him in shock and sadness as many of the Blacks did, apparently not realizing the severity of his illness.

“I will sit the throne today.” He spoke to the Hand before groaning in pain but still continuing up the stairs and waving off his king guard's attempts to aid him.

As if in slow motion you watched as the crown from his head fell onto the floor with a loud clatter before another hand picked it up. His younger brother’s hand.

The king seemed to try to wave the younger man off before finally relenting and allowed himself to be helped into the throne before Prince Daemon placed the crown on his head once more.

As Prince Daemon returned to his wife’s side the king sat up and spoke. “I must admit my confusion…” He huffed heavily with every few words.

“I do not understand why petitions are being heard over a settled succession. The only one present who might offer keener insight into Lord Corly’s wishes is the Princess Rhaenys.”

The whole court turned to look at the woman and whispers started up again that you could not decipher from your position.

“Indeed, your Grace.” The older Princess spoke calmly and strode into the center of the room. You were surprised that the woman had not been called upon sooner being the Lord’s wife. “It was ever my husband’s will that Driftmark pass through Ser Laenor to his true born son Lucerys Velaryon. His mind never changed. Nor did my support of him.”

Vaemond’s gaze on the Princess was murderous as she finished and your older brother nodded in approval.

You stole a quick glance at Prince Jacaerys and saw him giving his brother a supportive smile. You felt your cheeks blush as he glanced back at you again and your eyes met briefly before the older Princess continued.

“As a matter of fact the Princess Rhaenyra has just informed me of her desire to marry her son Luke to Lord Corlys’s granddaughter Rhaena. A proposal to which I heartily agree.” The other Targaryen next to Prince Lucerys held his hand at that. And you had to stifle your laughter as the Hand and the Queen wore a look of utter defeat.

“Well… the matter is settled. Again.” The king spat out that last word exasperatedly as if there was never any question to how this matter would end. “I hereby reaffirm Prince Lucerys of House Velaryon as heir to Driftmark, the Driftwood throne, and the next Lord of the Tides.”

The Princess Rhaenyra placed her hand on her younger son’s shoulder before Ser Vaemond angrily strode forward. “You break law and centuries of tradition to install your daughter as heir. Yet you dare tell me who deserves to inherit the name Velaryon. No.”

Your older brother sighed at his outburst. “He doesn’t know when to quit does he?” He whispered to you under his breath.

“Apparently not.” You replied watching the grown man throw a fit.

“I will not allow it.”

“Allow it?” The king rasped out irritated at the outburst. “Do not forget yourself, Vaemond.”

“No.” The man spoke passionately before whirling to point at the young boy. “That is no true Velaryon!” He yelled, loud enough to make the boy flinch. “And certainly is no nephew of mine.”

“Go to your chambers, you have said enough.” The Princess Rhaenyra scolded him, but provided the man with a way out of the hole he had thrown himself into. A way that he steadily ignored.

“Lucerys is my true-born grandson.” The king cut in. “And you are no more than the second son of Driftmark.”

You and your brother exchanged a knowing glance at his words and you tried to convey your thoughts to him. ‘Always the second son isn’t it?’

Your brother shook his head and gave you a quick smirk.

“You may run your house as you see fit…” Ser Vaemond clenched his hands in front of him similar to the way your two year old nephew did whenever he was pouting. “But you will not decide the future of mine. My house survived the Doom and a thousand tribulations besides. And gods be damned I will not see it ended on the account of this…” Vaemond swallowed angrily as if determining whether or not to proceed.

“Her children…” He spoke softly before yelling again. “ARE BASTARDS! And she…” He pointed at Princess Rhaenyra with a knowing grin. “Is… a whore.”

Your eyes widened at that and instinctively grabbed Cregan’s arm. Vaemond Velaryon had dug his own grave with those words. Scanning the room to see the reactions you looked the One Eye Prince once more and was relieved that his gaze was no longer trained on you but on his young nephew with a shit eating grin.

The King flew from the Throne with a strength you didn't know he had in him and unsheathed a dagger on his hip. “I will have your tongue for that!”

But before he could advance on the man a swishing sound was heard followed by gasps and a scream or two as Prince Daemon sliced Vaemond’s head cleanly in two. You felt Cregan pull you behind him instinctively before the act had been done and gasped along with the rest of the crowd.

“He can keep his tongue.” The Rogue Prince said cheekily as he wiped off his sword and walked back to his wife.

There was a loud clatter of armor that rushed behind you as the king's guard rushed to aid the king who must have fallen back into the Throne.

“Call the maesters!” His wife released her daughter from her hold and ran to her husband as the unoccupied guards started to usher everyone besides the royal family from the room.

Cregan gripped your hand tightly as he dragged you from the room and only loosened his grip after you had exited the throne room and were halfway back to your chambers. “This is worse than I thought.” He shook his head before rubbing his face. “I should not have brought you here.” You followed him into his chambers as he paced around the room.

“Cregan, it is the best place for me to find a husband.” You said, trying to calm your brother down. “Perhaps it may be more bloody than I had expected it to be, but once this is over we can go home.” You grabbed him tightly by the shoulders as you spoke and dug your heels into the floor to stop his worried pacing.

“You don’t understand.” Cregan shook his head at you this time. “You are a Stark and I command an army of 45,000 men. A number that not even the crown could muster up. That many men would change the tide of a war, sister.”

“We are not yet at war, brother.” You reminded him softly. “The king is still alive.” For now.

“But not for much longer.” Cregan interrupted you, voicing your thoughts. “We both know that when King Viserys dies the Greens and the Blacks will both stake a claim to the throne and the ensuing war will be much more bloody than what we just witnessed. There is a reason both Targaryen princes have shown such an interest in you.”

You shivered at the thought of Aemond’s gaze but said nothing.

“The Greens believe that if you were to marry into their side that the North would follow.” Cregan broke apart from you softly and reached for a pitcher of wine.

“We would never support them.” You added in quickly. “Just as Lord Corlys made his wishes for succession clear, so too did the King. Our father took an oath-“

“One that I will uphold.” Your brother poured himself a glass of wine before filling another for you. “Even if he had not done so I would still support the Princess. She is objectively more level headed then Prince Aegon and would be a better ruler.” He handed you the glass to which you happily drank from.

“If we do not wish to be caught between the two factions how do we proceed?” You took a sip of the sweetened wine.

Your brother was silent for a moment, sipping his own drink thoughtfully. “It is too late for that to be avoided. We need to reaffirm our own loyalty to the Princess.” He said finally.

“And how do you suggest we do that?” You plopped into a nearby plush chair.

Cregan sat across from you and placed his glass on a nearby table looking at you with sadness in his eyes. “I hate that it has come to this, but there is no better gesture of loyalty than wedding one of our own to a member of the Blacks.” You blushed involuntarily as the image of Prince Jacaerys came to your mind.

“You expect me to ensnare the Prince?” You raised an eyebrow at that. Surely the attractive man had many beautiful suitors that would demand his attention.

“It does not have to be him.” Cregan shrugged. “But it does need to be to a house that sides with them. Lords Celtigar and Ser Davos Blackwood are unmarried and honorable men.”

You hummed at the thought before nodding slowly. “Then let’s go find me a husband.”

Divider by @saradika-graphics

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Petition Outfit

[lemon-natalia]

Harrow the Ninth Reaction - Chapter 52

Augustine & Mercy are having a very intense convo about how they just murdered GOD and are dooming themselves, and Gideon 1.0, Gideon 2: Electric Boogaloo, and Ianthe are just … standing there

oh shit and Dominicus is gonna die and become a black hole? i mean given there’s a whole other book not sure where this is gonna go, maybe he was lying to everyone about that as well?

when Ianthe of all people is the one advocating to try and save people out of the goodness of her heart, you know you’re fucked

‘Well, Augustine, there’s something you should know’ could someone please say something in this series that isn’t ridiculously cryptic. also i totally forgot this guy was wearing Gid’s sunglasses the whole time lol

OH WAIT THE BITCH IS BACK. i knew it was too good to be true 

also YIKES poor Mercy, she was not my favourite character but god she did not deserve that

also ah. hm. the above comment did not age well

oh this guys whole persona has just shifted. He’s still got that kinda irreverent jokiness & affability but he’s also evidently very pissed off, a lot less ‘lets have tea’ and more ‘do what i say or get fucked’

'then he looked at us, gave a crooked half smile’ ohhhh he has the same. fucking. crooked smile. that Gideon has in the BARI-star dream what the fuck

and he WAS the one who ordered Gideon-Part-1 to kill Harrow, for fucks sake. at least Harrow had Ortus be nice to her briefly cuz she’s three for three on her other parental figures trying to kill her at some point 

Gideon found out her bio dad is GOD, saw him die, saw him come back to live naked, and now found out he tried to kill her (kinda maybe its complicated) girlfriend. thats just ... so many different levels of traumatising

also i keep forgetting Gideon is literally looking like Harrow for all of this

GIDEON 1.0 ISN’T GIDEON, ITS PYRRHA DVE HIS CAV?!?!? yknow what so much else is going on rn i barely have the capacity to process that

and she was also sleeping with Commander Wake, was everyone just fucking eachother????? and i thought the love quadrangle in the last book was complicated. i’m guessing she shot Wake to stop her from potentially revealing the whole ‘i’m actually alive’ thing to the Emperor then?

also wow there’s a lot of consent issues being raised in the last couple chapters and this one, not just with dios apate major, but also like … you’re having sex with someone while possessing someone else’s body without their knowledge, but also also its the only body you have because they (presumably) killed you to absorb your soul. like what.

the drama and vast existential horror of this scene is only mildly undercut by the fact that the Emperor is having this crazy fight wearing only what is essentially an opalescent bathrobe

also why are there fucking TEETH at the bottom of the River? and Tongues?? and it thinks he’s a Resurrection Beast? i feel like there’s so much more to the River that we haven’t uncovered yet

and Augustine wasn’t wrong with what he said wayy before, the Emperor really did grant him more leniency than he did Mercy, at least he gave him a chance before murdering him

also cmon Ianthe you’re really gonna save that guy, really?

'Hands pressed. We died’ AGAIN?? i mean at least this time there’s a chance for her to come back given she’s done it once before?? also i do not know what to make of her seeing Alecto before she dies at all

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: i’m normally an islanders girly, but i have a soft spot for svech, especially after the horrible news of his acl injury 🥺 honestly have no idea where this came from except i saw one of @ryanpulock ‘s anons mention taking care of svech after an injury, so here we go! entirely unedited because i hate rereading my own work lol

tw: smut, gratuitous and potentially wrong use of russian terms of endearment

summary: you want to take care of andrei a little after he gets a cut on his thigh.

The text from Jordan - “Don’t worry, he’s fine” - would be concerning on it’s own, but when it’s followed-up approximately ten minutes later with a text from Andrei - “Don’t worry, I am fine” - you’re heading quickly into a panicky state. Ignoring the fact that you’re out with friends, you open up Twitter and navigate to the Canes’ hashtag, scrolling anxiously until you spot the familiar last name.

A tweet from Cory Lavalette: Svechnikov is down and hurt.

Another one from Cory: Svechnikov did the splits while getting checked and was holding his left inner thigh.

Three minutes later: Further review, it looks like Kevin Hayes' skate caught Svechnikov in the thigh.

You feel like you might throw up. A cut from a skate blade is no joke. Depending on where on his thigh the blade caught him - you force yourself to stop that line of thinking and keep scrolling, breathing a sigh of relief when you see that Andrei was back on the ice a minute or so later. It’s solidly thirty minutes after the game’s ended (you didn’t realize it had gotten so late!), so he must be okay, if his and Jordan’s texts are the only ones about the whole thing. “Sorry, guys,” you sigh, gathering your jacket and purse, pushing away from the table. “I have to go. Just Venmo request me what I owe.”

Your best friend looks up, surprised, but then after she checks her phone, a sly grin stretches across her face and she teases, “going to get the benefits of those post-game endorphins?”

“A lady doesn’t kiss and tell,” you smirk, trying to hide your anxiety and worry about Andrei.

That gets the whole table jeering and heckling you, with your best friend laughing and proclaiming, “you’re sure as hell not a lady. Or do I need to bring out the keg stand video again?”

Waving her off with a snort of laughter and a vaguely rude gesture, you head for the door, blowing a kiss and slipping your arms into your jacket. The sounds of your friends’ voices follow you out of the restaurant, finally quieting once the door shuts behind you. You suck in a shaky breath, closing your eyes briefly. He’s fine - Jordan said so and Jordan wouldn’t lie about something like this. Even still, you’re nervous for the entire fifteen minute drive back to yours and Andrei’s apartment.

“Drei?” You call out his name when you push open the front door, kicking off your boots and dropping your house keys in the little bowl on the front hall table.

“In here,” his deep, accented voice echoes from the back of the apartment - your bedroom.

Shedding your jacket and draping it and your purse over the back of the couch - a bad habit that you’ve been trying to kick - you hurry down the hall towards him, needing to see him in one piece.

You freeze in the doorway when you finally lay eyes on him. He’s stretched out on the king-sized bed, shirtless and damp from his shower, clad only in a pair of tight black boxer-briefs. His legs are stretched out in front of him and he’s got one hand tucked behind his head, making his tricep bulge.

“Damn,” you mutter. It’s unfair how good-looking he is. And then your gaze lights on the thick white bandage wrapped around his left thigh, making the well-muscled bulk look even thicker. For some reason, the sight of the bandage makes his injury all the more real and tears prick at your eyes. “Andrei…” you whisper his name, hand pressing against your mouth to keep your emotions inside.

He shakes his head and smiles a little at you, a shadow of his dimple popping out on his cheek. “Ah, solnyshka, I’m fine. Just small scratch,” he says, voice warm and soaking over you like a blanket.

“But you got cut with a skate blade! A really sharp skate blade!” Your voice cracks a little. “It could’ve been really bad.”

Andrei gestures you forward with one hand and you obey instantly, not even thinking about it. His hand is warm on your wrist and he lifts your hand to his mouth to press a kiss to your palm. Your knees tremble. “But it was not,” he mumbles against your palm. “A few stitches, a bandage, and I’m good as new.”

“Stitches?” Your eyebrows lift and you look down at the bandage as if you’ve developed x-ray vision in the last thirty seconds.

“Two, three maybe. It is nothing,” he tugs at your wrist again, the dimple deepening on his cheek. His eyes twinkle. “But I think maybe I’m going to need a nurse to bring me back to 100%.”

His voice is low and you look up at his face, taking in the slow smirk that’s forming. “Oh a nurse, huh?” you murmur, warmth flooding your stomach from the way he’s looking at you.

“Mhm,” he hums, a deep rumble in his chest. His thumb is tracing an arc over your wrist, liquid heat crawling through your veins. “Now that I think about it, maybe it does hurt a little,” his lower lip pokes out in a small pout.

“Poor baby,” you whisper, licking your lower lip. Your throat feels dry. “I’ll have to be very gentle…”

Andrei’s eyes are dark, the tips of his ears are growing pink, and you can see the bulge in his boxer-briefs practically growing by the second. “What if I am a bad patient?” He lifts one eyebrow. “Will you be gentle then?”

You giggle. “Now, Mister Svechnikov, I know you can behave,” you dart forward and ghost a kiss over his lips. “When you want to.”

He tries to pull you down onto the bed, but you dance away quickly. “Solnyshka,” he pouts, “I’m not supposed to move. You have to come to me.”

“Let me change,” you reply, already pulling your sweater over your head. “These clothes are dirty.” The sweater gets tossed onto the chair in the corner and you kick off your jeans, leaning one knee on the bed. Andrei’s hands reach for you, the right one close enough to rest on your hip. He slides warm fingers around the curve of your ass and tries to pull you closer.

“Please,” he says. His accent is thick, vibrating around your brain and melting your heart. You love his voice. “I will be a good patient, I promise.”

You crawl closer to him, both of his hands on your hips now. One thick finger brushes under the waistband of your panties, sending a shiver down your spine. “Well, if you promise….” you trail off, dipping your head to press a kiss to inside of his bicep. One of your hands rests on his knee, fingers brushing over warm skin. He twitches, a little ticklish at your light touch. You grin at him, dragging your fingertips up the inside of his good thigh. The hair on his leg raises with goosebumps and the bulge of his cock grows. “You relax,” you murmur, “let me do the work.”

With a groan, Andrei drops back against the pillows he had propped behind his back, watching you with blown pupils as you climb in between his legs. He widens the space, offering you room to work. You lean back on your thighs, resting your hands lightly on Andrei’s shins. “You’ve got to tell me if you start hurting or it’s uncomfortable, okay?” you say, massaging your fingers into his calves. “I don’t want you to get hurt even more.”

“Maylshka,” Andrei groans the term of endearment, his hand stroking at himself through the fabric of his boxer-briefs, “you’re hurting me more by taking so much time.”

A snort of laughter leaves your nose involuntarily and you scoot up the bed, scraping your nails over his legs. “So impatient,” you mutter affectionately, a weird twist in your stomach when your gaze lands on the bandage again. A reminder that he was hurt. That it could’ve been more serious. Swallowing heavily, you duck your head and press a kiss to the inside of his right knee, scraping teeth over skin as you move up his inner thigh, kissing and biting gently as you go.

Andrei shifts under you, the bed dipping and swaying as he adjusts. One of his large hands twist in your hair, tangling the strands between his fingers and tugging, just this side of painful. The other hand bumps against the top of your head as he wraps it around his growing cock, stroking himself firmly. The steady movement of his hand makes his body move, in turn making your own body jostle. You bite into the corded muscle of his inner thigh and Andrei hisses, hand jerking out of rhythm.

“I thought I was taking care of you?” you mumble against his heated skin, leaning back and angling so your shoulder doesn’t bump against his wrapped thigh. Your fingers curl in the waistband of his underwear, the fabric already stretched to its limits between Andrei’s hand and erection. “You can take care of yourself on the road.”

His voice is raspy when he replies, “just helping you along, malyshka. Don’t want you to get tired.” He groans when you slide your hand over his and squeeze.

“I’m wide awake, Drei,” you murmur, knocking his hand aside and replacing it with your own. He’s hot and hard in your hand, a familiar weight. Your thumb brushes over the red, weeping tip of him and his hips buck involuntarily. A slow smirk spreads across your lips. Before you can bend your head, Andrei uses the hand that’s still tangled in your hand to force your face up to his. He cups your chin in his free hand and slants his lips over yours in a hungry kiss. You return it in kind, leaning into him, enjoying the groan he lets loose into your mouth when your hand twists around his cock.

He pulls back from the kiss, dropping his head against the headboard with a thunk. “I want to flip you over on your back and make you come until you cry,” he mutters, stretching out his left leg a little.

You laugh and kiss the side of his neck, licking at a bead of water that’s dripped down from his hair. He shivers. “Give yourself a little time to heal and then you can have me any way you want,” you promise. “Just let me take care of you tonight.”

Without giving him a chance to answer, you slide down his body, pressing soft kisses to his chest as you go and flicking one flat nipple with your tongue, drawing a strained laugh from Andrei’s throat. He murmurs your name and you kiss his stomach, just under his belly button, “lift,” you command, hooking your fingers in the elastic waist of his underwear and tugging them down. His erection jumps free, curving up to his stomach, thick and red and waiting for you. Your mouth waters at the sight of him and you dart your tongue out and lick the tip of him delicately.

“Fuck!” he curses, hand tightening in your hair. You press down on his good thigh with your free hand to keep him in place, not that you have a chance in hell of holding Andrei down if he really wants to move. But your fingers curl against his skin and you take him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks. The head of his cock bumps against the roof of your mouth and you shift on your knees to change the angle, taking him deeper. Andrei groans and moans above you, vocalizing his approval. He’s too big to take all of him in your mouth, so you wrap your hand around the remaining inches and squeeze, knowing he loves the pressure. His hand pushes your face down and your nose bumps his lower stomach. His hold on your head is loose though, and you could pull back if you wanted. You don’t want to.

Bracing yourself on his thigh, you lean forward, taking him deeper. Spit dribbles out of your mouth, making a mess of Andrei and the sheets below him. He bucks his hips, trying to restrain himself so he doesn’t hurt you, but when you him around him, flattening your tongue against the underside of his cock, he shouts and pushes further down your mouth, hitting the back of your throat. You breathe sharply through your nose, trying to stave off a gag, and inhale Andrei’s familiar musk mixed with the lavender-citrus body wash you’d bought for yourself but had been sneakily stolen by your boyfriend. You press your thighs together, pressure to help the throbbing between your legs. Andrei moves, like he wants to reach down and touch you, but you squeak a little when your head gets trapped between his pelvis and his stomach.

“Sorry,” he rumbles, “sorry.” His free hand strokes at your cheeks, your forehead, the back of your neck, and you shiver. You him around him again, sucking hard. Andrei groans your name, barely resisting the urge to thrust into your mouth. You encourage him, squeezing his shaft.

He tenses under your touch and comes in your mouth with a shouted string of Russian curses. You swallow quickly, a little overwhelmed, and Andrei’s grip on your hair loosens. He looks down at you with glazed eyes as you release him with a wet pop. a string of saliva connects your lips and his softening cock and you swipe at it quickly. “You are….” he mumbles, chuckling, speechless.

“I know,” you grin at him, wiping at the corners of your mouth. You wiggle up the mattress, rest your wrists on his shoulders, and kiss him sweetly. Andrei’s hands are heavy on your hips, sliding down the curve of your ass.

He yawns a little, blushing and mumbling an apology. “It’s not you,” he rushes to say and you giggle, kissing his cheek.

“You’ve had a long day, baby,” you reply, sliding out from between his legs and climbing off the bed. “Get comfy, I’m going to shower really quick and rinse the day off.”

Andrei catches your hand as you turn for the bathroom, a pout on his lips and a furrow between his brows. “But I didn’t get to have my way way you,” he whines.

“Tomorrow, big boy,” you promise, ignoring the throbbing between your legs. “I wanted to take care of you tonight.” You slip from his grip and dance off to the bathroom, loving that he wants to make sure you’re satisfied too. You take the world’s shortest shower, soaping up and shampooing in record time. You skip conditioner, willing to pay the price of slightly dry hair in order to cuddle with Andrei sooner.

By the time you pad back into the bedroom, clad in one of Andrei’s old shirts, he’s flat on his back, eye shut, and snoring softly. You smile softly at him, heart filling with even more love for your boyfriend. He looks even younger when he’s sleeping. Carefully, you climb into bed and tuck yourself against Andrei’s right side. His mouth hangs open a bit and his left arm is thrown over his forehead. As soon as you touch his side, he stirs a little, blinking and scrunching his face. “Mmm,” he hums, wrapping his arm around your back and pulling you close. You go easily, draping your arm over his stomach and resting your head on his chest.

“Night, Drei,” you whisper, brushing your nose against his skin.

“Ya tebya lyublyu,” he mumbles, breathing evening out again.

When you wake up in the morning, Andrei’s head is pillowed on your chest and he has both arms wrapped around you, holding you like a teddy bear. You blink sleepily and rest your cheek against the top of his head. Your legs are tangled with his, the bandage brushing against your thigh. You comb your fingers through Andrei’s hair gently, easing him awake.

“Hi, sleeping beauty,” you giggle as he blinks awake.

“Ditto,” Andrei says, voice hoarse with sleep. He buries his face into your chest. “Stay in bed.”

“I wish, but someone has to work so we can afford this life we’ve become accustomed to,” you joke, laughing even harder when Andrei’s fingers dig into your side, tickling you now that he’s wide awake.

This is absolutely your favorite way to wake up.

[bloopitynoot]

Reading SVSSS: Chapter 12

For those who don't know, I am reading SVSSS for the first time and sharing my thoughts!

If you have not read it, there will be spoilers! Consider this a warning.

Also- if you want to follow along, I am aiming to post updates daily. You can find all the posts in the tag bloopitynoot reads SVSSS. You can also check out the intro post for context on my read.

Heading into chapter 12!

It's been an absolute day at work, but I got to do a lovely walk with a friend afterwards AND Charlie decided to grace us with his presence (very briefly for head pats).

Tea today is peppermint! Dinner break midway through this little chapter was congee and I was very pleased with it- photo further down lol.

Let's get into it!

OMG I knew that the Dew Lake snake man would be back! I did not think they'd be here as a "handsome young man" though. I fear that Shen Qingqiu is absolutely fucked LOL. p265

oof. and now I feel like we are entering the territory for daddy issues. We have Luo Binghe's father's right hand man introduced pp266-267

Well. at least if he is likely going to suffer, the plot holes will be filled. thank you system for the points. p267

wait. Could Zhuzhi-lang be an ally? or will this guy brutally die later? (do not actually tell me this, I'm just planting my speculations). my thoughts are he could be an ally because SQQ DID save him and give him an unexpected boon by mushroom bod. but also, if Luo Binghe see's SQQ being close to another demon that man will surely murder the other demon. p268

WHY SO MANY SNAKES??? I hate that so much! p270

All I'm seeing from SQQ is kink shaming. This guy has got to stop yucking other's yums. First with the necrophilia now he's anti demons fucking snakes. it's the panicked "way too fucking hardcore" for me p271

SQQ: can you handle the snakes pls? Zhuzhi-Lang: nah they like you. p272

okay, but why is he asking for women? is it to do with the snakes? or is it because he is having a sexual crisis and needs to reassure himself?? p273

they're really going to this brothel? p274

LOL even the brothel ladies sing (very uncomfortable but I guess they enjoy it) love songs about Luo Binghe and SQQ's tragic love story p276

AHAHAHAHA SQQ's "summary" of their story on page 277 has me absolutely dying XD

Ah! that's why the women and the brothel -> the wine! p278

Cultivation wise I do really love that SQQ can just pick up any fan and start cultivating. that is honestly the coolest part of his cultivation. I love it so much. p279

LOL he really just made the snake pass out, rented a sword (idfk WHEN but he did) and dipped from the entire situation. p281

SQQ: this is a later problem, byyyyeeeeeeee.

I stated I would have congee pic earlier and here is me delivering on that. It's pork congee with eggs, tofu, pork, green onions and an ungodly amount of chili crisp.

I'm slowly turning this chapter-by-chapter read into a stay at home mom's recipe blog. I am not sorry.

That's a wrap for chapter 12!

Okay so thankfully nothing terribly tragic happened this chapter. It does feel like a big set up though so I am a little nervous about that.

AND. He still has all of this demon blood in him so he really is fucked. He may have escaped for the moment but I see all of the demons coming back for him.

We'll see what happens next chapter!

[cloveroctobers]

SAFE & SOUND — ARMAN MORALES X READER X ANGEL REYES: [Spring Prompts]

A/N: it’s going to be tough getting through the cleaning lady this season but it’s always the work that lives on that continues to inspires us. Just from the premiere also sparked this little thing + I also assumed I’d stop writing for Angel once Mayans MC ended but after a name drop in TCL here I am lol! That angel was handsome too IJS. Bet you thought you could get rid of me huh!? Hope y’all enjoy my first spring prompt of the year!

PROMPT IS FROM HERE & I’m using:  “Spring is so boring there aren’t any good holidays.” “Have you forgotten Easter, St patty’s day, Mother’s Day, April fools-” “I get it, I get it!”

FIRST GIF WAS FOUND THROUGH PINTEREST SO IT BELONGS TO IT’s RIGHTFUL OWNER + THE SECOND BELONGS TO: @dailymayans !

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*

The Vegas heat was doing what it does best, roasting down on you despite residing in a mountain area. You’re used to it, being from this state and living here all these years; although it was the fresh start of April, the eighty degree heat demanded to be felt. You’re out on the balcony, leaning over it, one arm exposed to the sun while the other went to work fanning yourself with your silk handheld folding fan staring out into the view.

Your bathing suit is somewhat dry still clinging to you although you, Angel, and Mavy got out of the community pool (over a half hour ago) as soon as it started to get over crowded with your fellow neighbors. Your body was slouched over the balcony, mindlessly fanning yourself as you sank into your boredom.

Angel chuckled at you from behind, leaving the balcony door open just a crack behind him with a beer in one hand. He briefly touched your lower back in greeting before moving to dramatically copy your movements but instead with the back of his hand resting on his forehead. “What you doin’ out here querida?”

“Oh you know, just losing my mind. Nothing too serious.” You replied while Angel snorted at you.

He sips at his cold beer before saying, “I asked you if you wanted go cruising this weekend and maybe end up in the city for a night but you weren’t feeling it. So…I’m guessing you didn’t enjoy your time at the pool?”

“With my two favorite boys…of course I did.” You weren’t sarcastic this time, “it’s just that I’m imagining spring break to be a real drag.”

Angel furrows his brows, not even knowing when that was coming up but still said, “so what are you saying? You wanna live out your college dreams again, head down to Miami to get wild or something?”

It was your turn to laugh as you tug on his shorts waistband, “Why would I need to relive Miami when I got my hoochie daddy right here?”

“Ah, Fuck outta here,” Angel laughed as he playfully smacked your hand away from him while you winked.

Pressing your temple into your balled up hand you sighed after awhile, “what im getting at is: Spring is so boring there aren’t any good holidays.” 

Angel raised his brows at this, not entirely believing that you found the season to be boring since you just went out the way last weekend to go shopping for spring decor. He was glad he had to work that weekend because he just knew you would have him in those stores for hours like you commonly did, he just felt bad for maverick in the end though.

“…Have you forgotten Easter, St. patty’s day, Mother’s Day, April fools-” he ticks off with his fingers while you roll your eyes.

You interject, “I get it, I get it!”

It’s not like angel cared much about those holidays either…(he wasn’t the best at remembering dates) well maybe the last one he found the most interest in but now he was trying to do something different in life for Maverick and since he met you (who did care for holidays) after the big move here. That sweet baby boy changed the trajectory of the way angel looked at life now and he wanted his kid to experience nothing but greatness and if he could provide that he would. He also liked watching you interact with Maverick and you both seemed to have a good time on Easter, doing kids activities like: painting eggs, going Easter egg hunting, and even getting a picture with a weird looking Easter bunny that now sat on the mantle in the living room.

Angel was even going to church now when he felt up to it and knew his mother would probably be proud of the way he turned his life around. How life was so different from what it could have been. He could be the one in the ground with his family but Angel knew he was meant to be right here, no matter how painful it got to be here.

He reshaped his life and was glad to say that he did it.

“You know, there’s plenty of things we can get into now that Mav’s down for his nap. I can be your source of entertainment.” Angel hints, slipping an arm underneath your cover up and tugging you to him.

You smirk as you meet his dark eyes, fanning yourself with one hand while the other grips his tatted arm. “Is that right?”

“Uh huh,” Angel hums pressing into you as he bites his bottom lip before pecking yours.

It wouldn’t be the first time out here on this balcony but you wouldn’t make it a repeat since it was too hot for all that. And you didn’t need to hear angel’s complaints of his ass being scorched thanks to the material of the balcony! However with the way the both of you ended up, tongues battling, hands roaming and squeezing with Angel’s back against the balcony now, it was becoming difficult trying to get the words out.

His hand’s are full of kneading your backside and he lets you breathe while he’s attacking your neck now, just the way you like it underneath your ear, his facial hair tickling your skin as he does so. Your fan and his beer are both out of your grasps now as you’re scratching at his back, which is just enough indication for Angel to lift you by the waist and up against his hips. He buries his face back to your skin, loving the way you smell as you hold onto him.

Your eyes peek open, breathing still ragged as you hold on but soon your eyes focus out towards the fence that blocks the condo’s from the main highway, spotting a figure who has their attention solely on you. At first you expect it to be some sort of creep watching you be intimate with your boyfriend but a palm goes up into the air before they remove their sunglasses.

Your breathing stops and Angel instantly notices you go still against him. He pulls back to glance at you, “you alright?”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you slowly place your legs down and Angel steadies you, still keeping a hand across your hips before he follows your stare. Angel’s eyes are in slits now, craning his neck and he’s on defense mode now, “fuck are you doing here?!”

You slap Angel’s arm to ease him while the man slowly steps closer to the building and both of your eyesight’s.

He says your name in greeting, “…hey, can we talk?”

Angel’s against it once he spots your hesitance but once you move, he’s not far behind you. You’re waiting at the front door, eyes to the right as you await for the man to make his way up the steps. He jogs up the last few steps, quickly making his way over to you while holding his sunglasses.

You’re still holding your breath as you take in his appearance, and it’s still the same man that you had the chance to spend your childhood with. The both of you don’t say anything, just staring and tracing over each others features with your eyes and Angel doesn’t like the feeling that sinks to the bottom of his stomach.

“You’re Armando right? You don’t look like any of the pictures.” Angel breaks the silence from behind you, arms crossed.

Arman flicks his eyes to your boyfriend, he takes in Angel’s appearance for a second before turning back to you, “Please, call me Arman…and Pictures?”

You exhale, “oh…yeah just two. The one from Costa Rica and your personal favorite: The selfie you took with my digital camera, the one you stole to impress that girl in photography class who already had a boyfriend—

“Did she though? I don’t recall.” Arman smirks and you scoff with a roll of your eyes, “but yeah I think I remember that one. It was the week after we finished junior year, Back when you were working at the skeeball section and Alicja Bosko purposely threw the ball at your shoulder to show off to her jackass boyfriend.”

You nodded remembering that huge bruise you received later that night, “Steven Jefferson. He was actually one of the nicest on the basketball team, if not the only one.”

“That’s because he was in love with you.” It was Arman’s turn to roll his brown eyes while you shook your head.

“No he wasn’t,” you crinkled your nose, “he was too far up Alicja’s ass.”

Arman argued, “yeah well maybe he should have been in theater instead of his brother because he wasn’t fooling me.”

You shrugged your shoulders with a small smile at the little walk down memory lane but knew to agree to disagree. It’s not like it wasn’t possible since you and Steven shared a few classes together, worked on a project or two because you sat near or next to each other but it didn’t cross your mind then. And you also weren’t aware that Steven questioned Arman once, after school when you went home early if the two of you were some secret couple. That was just the clean version of what Steven really said, which landed Arman on a three day suspension and Steven missing out on the next two games.

“…but the picture? It had to be of you having Alicja by the throat in the background while I had the most mischievous smile on my face…I can’t believe I forgot how much of a little shit I was.” Arman chuckled to himself while you nodded at him in amusement before he turned back to Angel, “plus it would make sense that I look different as a teen to present day right? Being a grown successful man does that to you, huh?”

He playfully slapped Angel on his shoulder before he squeezed himself by, taking in your home.

‘Now who the fuck did this guy think he is?’ Was exactly what Angel was thinking.

You squeezed Angel’s wrist as he sent you a look before kicking the door shut behind you.

“Feels much better in here and I see you’re doing well for yourself too.” Arman stood in the middle of the home.

Although he resided in the same state as you but at a great distance, Arman was still aware of your professions of once being a PI but now worked for a cybersecurity company as an intelligence analyst. He was proud to see that you were still driven but ultimately knew that wouldn’t change.

Angel muttered, “I bet it does when you’re not dressed like fucken blade in Vegas.”

“What was that?” Arman’s got his hands on his hips, bringing his attention back to the tatted man.

“Angel’s just wondering what you would like to drink.” Smiling hard at your boyfriend, he sucked his teeth with a roll of his head and rushed by you two.

He went around the corner by the dining area to the left where the closed off kitchen was. Once he pulled the fridge open, he missed out on you and Arman reaching out for each other to give each other a squeeze but not long enough to the point it would bring tears.

Arman couldn’t take tears from you, never could.

“Angel’s also wondering what brings you here and why you felt the need to stalk his girlfriend from the bushes.” He inquired, appearing just as you’re motioning for Arman to have a seat on the couch.

Angel slides a Gatorade on the coffee table (this Arman character wasn’t getting any of Angel’s good beer. By the looks of Arman, Angel had a feeling he probably wouldn’t drink it anyway.) and plops down on the sitting chair on Arman’s left.

Arman awkwardly laughs, “right…didn’t mean to intrude on you two…” he sends a knowing smile at you while you shrugged with a flick of your hair, “and I know that probably looked insane so I do apologize for that. I just had to make sure I had the right place.”

You suggest, “Next time maybe a phone call would be better?”

“Can’t exactly trust that lately.” Arman admits which makes Angel sit up, sending you a glance before Angel is pressing his elbows into his knees while Arman continues, “Look…I’m not here to cause any trouble but I had to see you…just in case.”

Angel wasn’t sure what that means but he had a feeling and he didn’t like being out of the loop of what was going on. He left Santo Padre for a reason and he found something special with you…yet someone from your past just shows up out the blue—that you haven’t seen in who knows how long, with a nice cut on his lip, brow, and cheek! and who knows where else! Arman didn’t seem to be walking normally if you asked Angel and this guy was saying things like he was preparing for the worse! In conclusion: sounded like a red flag to Angel.

“Before you expand on that…there’s just a few things that I do need to get off my chest.” Angel interrupts the intense eye contact you were sharing with another man.

Arman blinks over at Angel, “okay…”

“How long has it been since you two last saw each other?”

Arman looks to you again and you round off, “it’s been years, maybe fifteen? but the postcards and little figurines made it seem like less.”

Angel wasn’t aware of any of that but it’s not like you kept your friendship with Arman much of a secret. There wasn’t anything to hide in the first place. You always spoke highly of him and Angel couldn’t really grasp the idea of a man and a woman being just friends if they weren’t family. Yes that was his projection but he’s never seen anything like this that wasn’t romantic.

He rubs at his face in thought while Arman smiles softly at you, lightly shoving your knee and in that moment Angel was thankful he did the honors of tying your coverup before you opened the front door. Sorry not sorry.

Angel just comes right out with it, “so…were you two ever a thing? Serious or just foolin’ around?”

Your eyes go wide and Arman laughs at this, which irritates Angel.

“No.” Arman clearly states, “We maybe soulmates but not in a romantic sense, which makes this friendship so much more easy to have, no matter how many years pass us by. I love your girlfriend but you don’t have to worry about me falling in love with her because that’s your job, right?” He stares hard at the bearded man, almost daring Angel to say the wrong thing.

Angel immediately nods his head, feeling the tension ease somewhat from his jaw although he can feel your heated stare on him also. You already told him what it was with Arman when he asked you about your love for him once before and didn’t particularly like that he was bringing it up again to Arman. However Angel wanted to make sure that this wasn’t one sided and he had no shame in that.

“Good!” Arman claps, “then we have nothing to worry about. As long as you’re good to her, then we won’t have an issue.”

“…we’re good to each other.” You tell, wanting Angel’s eyes to settle on you, which they do before he sits back with a crooked smile.

Satisfied.

You shake your head at him and turn back to Arman who’s watching the exchange. You place your hand on Arman’s which is now thrown along the top of the couch, “And I’m glad I have all of my boys back underneath one roof. Except one of them doesn’t work my nerves as much.”

Arman scowls as he looks at Angel, “I find that hard to believe.”

“Fuck does that mean?” Angel feels his lip curl while Arman holds his hands up in surrender with a smile as Angel says, “she’s not talking about me but you don’t have to assume shit with that smug smile on your face, man.”

‘Lookin’ like the damn monopoly man and shit.’ Angel thinks to himself but he was trying to keep things cordial.

Arman tilts his head at this, “…there’s another guy that loves to take up your time? Don’t tell me—

“Relax,” you soothe, “I didn’t biologically have Maverick but I love him like he’s my own.”

“And I can’t thank you enough.” Angel tells you with a glint in his eye, “you have any kids, Armando?”

Arman slowly shakes his head putting the pieces together silently after spying a picture above the fireplace before he thinks of his own situation, “no but I too know a kid that I’ll always protect.”

“Aw, look at you having the parenting bug.” You wiggle the man’s shoulder.

Arman sighs trying to fight back a smile, “I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to. Your face did.”

“She’s right.” Angel agreed.

Arman attempts to whisper, “Don’t say that too much or her head will explode.”

You pinch the back of the skin on Arman’s hand who hisses before yanking his hand away. Angel laughs at you two, finding that this Arman guy might be alright in his book.

“I’ve missed you, you know? Even when you still do that pinching shit.” He shakes his hand about before rubbing it.

“I know and so have I, Armani-man.”

He chuckles, “haven’t heard that in awhile.”

“What?” You gasp as you mention, “Don’t tell me Nadia hasn’t hit you with annoying spins on your government?”

Yes you were also aware that Arman found his Mrs. Morales out there in the world. At first you felt a way about it since he simply sent over a picture and a brief letter to your mailbox during your late twenties and not an invitation to the wedding. Which he later explained in the attached letter that it was a spur of the moment ceremony out of the country. You only knew bits and pieces of what Nadia was like and what she looked like. However there seemed to be a shift in Arman at the mention of his wife.

As soon as you noticed it, it was gone, leaving the guarded man to exhale, “…only when she wants something.”

“You too, huh?” Angel cracks open the Gatorade before taking a sip, “ever get hit with a ‘hoochie daddy?’”

Arman blinks before oddly staring back and forth at you two, “A what?”

“Never mind my boyfriend,” you fan your hand, “you said you came here to visit me just in case of what exactly…”

Arman dips his head and clears his throat. When he starts cracking his fingers with one hand, you notice it’s still something he does when there’s a lot on his mind even with the both of you settling into your own adulthoods. That alone makes you scoot closer to him, balling your legs to the side of you as you rest your head back against his arm.

“I’m here. Always.”

This he knew.

He never imagined plopping back into your life like this, on the run and keeping it all away from the two women he’s in love with but it was a fact that you knew the start. And if that’s what he had to go back to, then so be it. Part of him felt like he should feel guilty bringing you back into this, while at the same time he knew the levels of your relationship and that you would always look out for him too.

The both of you grew up together and then separately because arman sought out for more that his father didn’t approve of and the connection between you two was just as strong then as it is now. It wasn’t conditional on your part, which is why the both of you still had a friendship. That was evident with the way you two moved around each other and Angel felt like he should be jealous.

Oh but he was! especially with the bits of affection he witnessed, that was something he didn’t want to get used to but maybe he was starting to understand? Angel would grasp it more if he saw how Arman was around this Nadia person and had a feeling he probably would the longer Arman stayed or came around. However both you and Arman knew it wouldn’t be a long span of time. It’s just not the way he operated.

He was always on the move.

“Do I need to give you two the room?” Angel places his hand on his chest, “I really don’t want to in fear that I’ll start smoking again but my heart, yeah I got that, is saying I prolly should.”

You peek up at Arman, the both of you sharing a laugh before Arman nudged his head and you’re patting the empty spot next to you. “Get over here.”

“I dunno…the way you two look at each other gives off more than just friends.” Angel cautiously makes his way over, while you toss your legs right over his lap, leaving him to caress your bare ankle.

Arman shakes his head as he meets Angel’s eyes, “you’ve never loved a best friend so much that you’ll do anything for?”

“Well yeah…” Angel starts with a lift of his shoulders, “but I never had stars in my eyes when I looked at coco’s crazy ass. And he wouldn’t be walking up in my house like he owns the place. I’ll tell you that much. Actually—he’d probably find a way in here without us knowing.”

You’ve heard stories about Coco—Johnny plenty times before and wished you would have had the chance to meet him. With the way Angel spoke of him and the one’s he once called his brothers, made it seem like you already have.

You snort, “might as well have stars with how much you speak on him and Ezekiel.”

Angel blows out a breath at how much he missed those guys through it all, “I guess I get it too. But i do have to say, if this turns out to be more harm than good to us…you may see a side of me you don’t like and that can get ugly.”

That was aimed more at Arman than you, you were sure but as good as you knew the man to your left, he didn’t take threats lightly yet he could respect it since you chose Angel.

“Well at least you’re honest about your lack of looks…but we can both agree every side is my good side.” Arman jokes as he pinches his chin, caressing his facial hair with a grin.

Angel huffs, “get a load of this fucken guy! First you waltz in here and now this? You’re something else, man. But I guess…you’re alright for now.”

Arman leans over you as Angel goes to give him a fist while Arman was ready to give his hand a shake. Angel stares at Arman’s hand, not budging before Arman huffs and decides to bump fists instead with a shake of his head in disbelief.

“Yay, my bestie and my boyfriend getting along!”You grip Arman’s shoulder to place a kiss on his cheek before flopping your body against Angel who squeezes your shoulder, kissing the corner of your eye as you say “Love to see it…maybe spring break won’t be so bad after all.”

Arman and Angel both share a knowing glance, being aware that this probably wouldn’t be some simple visit of a friend coming to town—although you were no stranger to Arman’s lifestyle—but for both of their sakes they’ll relish in your happiness.

That’s mainly what both men wanted for you.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*

Continue along with my spring anthology prompts here.

[iheartjohnlennon]

hii, can you write Mick Jagger x famous fashion designer!female reader in which he irritates and begs her to design and sew Bianca's wedding dress until she accepts but then they often have sex and make out during "creative discussions" and when the dress is finally ready they kind of end up getting married instead? with THE dress.

Is it considered steal the groom if the groom himself takes the initiative to exchange the bride? lol this is kind of fucked up and I'm going to feel bad for Bianca but I think it's something Mick would definitely have the nerve to do. I honestly think it would be one of Rock's most tragicomic and iconic stories if it had happened.

I hope you see the appeal as I did, but feel free to ignore it if that's not your cup of tea. LOVE <3

'Luna, amore e no'

London, early '71

Tags: Infidelity, Smut, Orgasm, Emotional Conflict, Resolved Sexual Tension

A Saturday night in Chelsea

The boutique was adorned with fabrics that were shades and tones of purple, pink and white. Delicate mannequins were draped in her coquettish designs, and a scent of perfume filled the space.

It was a haven she had beautifully thought up for herself, and the thought had managed to garner her acclaimed and revered attention.

This shop in Chelsea was particularly popular, but now there was a quiet stillness of the Saturday evening, and it was a welcome change from the bustle of London during the daytime.

The clock struck 9 PM when Y/N entered the boutique, her sketchbook clutched in hand.

Her footsteps echoed through the front room and into the retail area before she entered her beloved office.

She shed her coat and placed her sketchbook down. She was about to settle into her desk chair with a few of her textiles in hand when she heard it ring.

 "Oh, Christ."

She threw down her silks and needles onto the nearby couch. The telephone had begun ringing, and she knew it was going to continue incessantly. She also knew it was going to do her head in.

She toyed with the idea of ignoring it, or perhaps letting it ring a little longer. Maybe he'd give up. But it persisted, each chime a reminder of his stupid determination. The reason why she lingered to pick up, was because she knew exactly who was calling, and why he was calling.

Although his want was clear the first time they very briefly spoke on the phone, he wanted more than that, and that loosely intrigued her.

Mick had strategically been ringing every Saturday when he could. It was a way to let her know he wasn't going to let her get away easily, not without having some part of her. She sighed into her seat and focused on her book, flicking through concepts and sketches.

"Fucking hell, it's like clockwork for him."

Her patience had quickly worn thin and she leaned forward, her fingers navigated the rotary dial. The ringing had finally ceased, replaced by a muffled dialogue.

The phone's receiver, cool against her palm, spoke to her. 

"Evening darling."

"Hello."

"Ah, Y/N, always a pleasure to hear your voice."

She was taken aback, yet swiftly regained her composure and brushed off his subtle flirt.

"What is it that you want, Mr Jagger?"

Mick's voice was ribbon and it flowed into one ear and right out of the other.

"Well, I was hoping for a chat with the most sought-after woman in London."

She couldn't suppress a scoff. 

"Yes, yes, yes, of course, but what is it that you want?" She pressed dismissively.

"I want the pleasure of your company."

Y/N's brow quirked, feeling an incredulity.

"Company? Mr Jagger, we haven't even agreed to a meeting."

Mick was unfazed and pushed on.

"Well, Bianca adores your work, you know. She'd be over the moon to have you design for her."

She tutted, "Oh, how touching. I'm sure she would."

"You really should give her the wedding dress she deserves, Y/N. I promise you won't regret it."

Y/N's breath hitched, caught off guard by the sweet audacity of his words. He was, after all, soon to be wedded.

"I'm sure Bianca would be thrilled to hear you're so invested in her gown."

Mick chuckled.

"Well, she deserves nothing but the best, and you, you are the best."

"Do you have a penchant for dresses, Mick?" She teased.

His response was swift and sincere.

"I have a penchant for the woman making the dresses."

She giggled, unable to stifle the sound. His persistence was both exasperating and endearing.

Mick was still adamant.

"You're the perfect designer for this, Y/N. Please, just give me- us a chance."

"Mhm."

Mick had to find more fuel, any excuse or plea to see her. 

"She's genuinely taken with your talent, Y/N. You're the only one she trusts for this."

Her resolve wavered, swayed by his flattery. With a soft sigh, she relented.

"Fine, fine. We'll meet."

He wasted no time in setting a date. "Yes, next Friday evening, preferably when we have the place to ourselves?"

"Ooh, just us, then?" She teased.

"I'd like that." He answered without hesitation.

She raised an eyebrow.

Mick's confidence remained unshaken.

"Regardless, love, I'll be waiting eagerly for our meeting, next Friday.

"Fine, next Friday it is."

She scrawled the date on a notepad, it was a flimsy agreement.

"I can't wait to see you, Y/N."

See he said. Why not meet? This was only business after all. 

"Likewise, Mick, likewise."

"Y/N, you're a gem, you know that?"

"Oh, don't let this get to your head, Jagger. It's just a design."

"Just a design? This is Bianca's dream we're talking about!"

"Well, I wouldn't ever dream of standing in the way of your wedding would I?"

"And I wouldn't dream of keeping you waiting."

He had said that suggestively, although she didn't want to see it that way.

"Good. I have a reputation to uphold, after all, you know."

"And what a reputation it is."

She smiled and decided to cut his unwavering flattery short, "Goodbye, Mick."

"Goodbye, Y/N."

When Mick heard the click of the phone, it was a call back to reality, and that reality was enticing.

    *

The Friday

The door chimed and Y/N was standing poised near the entrance for him. Mick wasn't alone. He had brought a photographer with him by the looks of it, and he seemed eager to capture every moment of this collaboration.

There was an attraction between them as they stood close.

He immediately extended his hand, the gesture was as smooth and as handsome as the man himself.

Mick's eyes traced the contours of her form. He wasn't one for simple impressions and wanted her to know he was intrigued.

"Mick." She greeted simply. 

"Y/N, it's a pleasure."

He pulled her hand to his lips, pressing a delicate kiss to her knuckles.

She cleared her throat, regaining her composure.

"Likewise. How have you been?"

"Nervous, very nervous, but I have faith in your talents, love."

"As you should." She said snarkily.

"You look even better in person, if that's possible."

"Oh. Thank you."

The unexpected compliment hung in the air, and a charged pause settled between them.

Her eyes flitted to her watch, cautious of time, even though they had lots of it.

"Well, Mick, you know it's bad luck for the groom to get too close to the dress before the wedding. You might have to stay away from me." She joked. 

He smiled, and with that, Y/N turned, beckoning him to follow her to an office.

She couldn't shake the feeling of Mick's eyes being all over her.

When the door closed, the air seemed to shift. They were in a smaller more intimate space.

Mick settled into a plush chair, and his thoughts were consumed by the captivating designer who had finally walked into his life. She'd been in many other lives, whether through a purchase or a fling, but he was glad it was his turn now.

She cast a glance back at him as she ruffled through, "Make yourself comfortable, Mick."

Y/N bent over her desk as she rifled through the drawers. Mick watched her with an almost fascination. To him, she was a marvel, an artist in her element. Each motion seemed to carry a kind of ethereal grace that held him in attention.

With everything she needed gathered in her arms, she approached him and sat on the arm of the chair.

Y/N reached for a glass of wine, preparing for the storm that was going to be this wedding.

"So, what's on your mind, then?" She asked casually, taking a slow sip.

His eyes wandered over the sketches but he didn't seem to be all that interested, he seemed bored.

"This silhouette here." He pointed to a sketch of something puffy, and she thought that it didn't suit Bianca's figure. She also thought it seemed inappropriate to be chatting about the bride's dress with the groom, but whatever. 

"How about this one, here instead?" Y/N flicked to a page of things more form-fitting and flat.

Mick's eyes looked to a particular design on the page, another choice that seemed miles away from Bianca's taste. "This one," he mused, his finger tapping the paper. "It's got a flair, a vibrancy. What do you think?"

She sighed and looked down at him, he had a stupid smile on his face, he'd had it since he had walked in.

"I think you're very distracted, Mick."

He let out a hearty laugh and swiftly took her cup of wine.

"What do you mean, darling?" he quipped, trying to sound innocent, though the cheekiness in his tone betrayed him.

With a sigh, Y/N stood up and carefully arranged everything on her rug.

She slipped off her shoes to get comfortable on the floor and undid the top button of her blouse. 

"Come here, Mick." She gestured for Mick to join her, her voice was warm and inviting to him.

She looked sultry sitting on her rug, and he wondered if she was making an innuendo for them to shag on the floor or something.

Everything was spread out before them. Y/N's patience wore thin and she implored for the final time, "Are you going to be serious this time?"

"Hm..." He said childishly. 

 "No, Mick," she insisted, her voice firm. "Answer the question. Are you going to be serious this time?"

He relented, only because he liked her demand.

"Alright, I'll be serious," he declared, his arm moving to encircle her waist.

She removed his arm and shifted, settling on her knees. 

Mick shifted his position to mirror hers. He sat on his knees, somewhat determined to focus. 

"Thank you, Mick. Now, a pattern, any pattern you can think of." 

"Something floral, understated but not dull, you know?"

She nodded resolutely and wrote notes whilst drawing little concepts beside them. Mick was watching in awe, she couldn't place why, this was the most boring part of it.

"I haven't stopped thinking about you since I got engaged. I'm enamoured with your work, you know." He confessed. 

Why did he have to say since he got engaged, it sounded like he was expressing his love for her over Bianca, and she dreaded that thought. 

"What do you mean?" She asked, timid. 

"You're my favourite designer, Y/N. There's no one better."

She tutted and shook her head, "Oh, come now. I'm sure there are better." 

"Nah, I'm convinced you're a creative genius." Mick giggled. 

"And I'm convinced you have a way with words." She deadpanned. 

"Trust me, Y/N. You're my favourite."  

"Right. Well, let's discuss the dress. What colour are you envisioning?" 

She changed the subject, fearing that what she thought Mick was thinking would materialise. 

"How about orange?" 

"Orange?" 

"Yeah, why not?" He said sarcastically. 

"Stop it now." 

"Alright, alright, obviously white."

"Obviously, but what shade of white?"

"Dunno, suppose you'll have to surprise her." 

"Okay." She groaned and rightfully decided she wasn't going to ask Mick for anything, ever. 

She leaned over him to grab something, and his arm once again found its way around her waist, an intimate hold, like he was trying to show affection. It was a move that was becoming all too familiar, and she didn't like that. 

"Come on, Mick," Y/N sighed, frustration evident in her voice. "What are you doing?"

Mick didn't want to beat around the bush, not with her.

"This is getting a bit dull, don't you think, love?" he suggested.

Y/N's brow furrowed in disbelief, struggling to keep up with the sudden turn of events. "What's gotten into you?"

"You haven't caught on yet?" he teased.

She mustered a shaky breath, "I did, but I was hoping you'd spare us both the bloody trouble."

"I haven't even scratched the surface, love."

His arm was still around her waist, so he pulled her closer until they were nose-to-nose. 

He closed the distance between them, his lips meeting hers in a hard kiss.

Y/N moved back abruptly, her disgust palpable. "You've lost your mind, Mick. You're engaged, and I'm designing her dress. This is sick- you are sick."

He shrugged.

"Well, she's not the one, love. Not by a long shot."

"Then who is?" 

Before she could process the weight of her own question, Mick kissed her. He started it soft. There was a gentle brush of lips, a mingling of breath. His arms circled her waist and as the kiss deepened, so did the intensity. Their tongues swirled together, tasting the wine they shared. The world outside seemed to blur, leaving only the spontaneous connection between them.

Y/N's hand remained on Mick's chest, her fingers curling against the fabric, her voice barely above a mumble as she uttered his name. Still, he didn't stop. Instead, he kissed her deeper, his hand moving to grab her bottom.

They both pulled away at the same time, their breaths mingling in the charged air. Mick's eyes held a mixture of desire and uncertainty as he looked at her. 

He cleared his throat, "Should we stay here on the floor, or find a more comfortable spot?" 

Mick was very confident, so confident he didn't bother to use perception, though he didn't need to in this circumstance. 

"A couch sounds nice," she replied, mischief in her eyes. 

They untangled themselves, their movements carried a sensuous grace. Making their way to the nearby couch on the other side of the room, the atmosphere seemed to thicken, the unspoken promise of what awaited them palpable in the air.

He took her by surprise, his hands pushed her forwards over the arm of the couch so she could be bent over for him. 

Mick pulled her closer, his hands moving down her body as he unzipped the back of her skirt and eased it off her hips. He sighed with as the fabric rustled around her ankles. He tugged on the waistband of her tights and dragged them to the floor.

"Do you feel me, hm?"

He pressed himself into her and it was teasing both of them.

She looked back at him, "I feel you.."

The sound of leather on metal clinked in her ears as he pulled the belt from its loops. His trousers were made into a pile around his ankles, leaving him with his boxers.

Mick held her hips and pressed himself against her, she could feel the warmth of his cock through the thin fabric of his underwear.

His hands found her panties, he pulled them to one side and he thrust harder, pushing his erection against her bare cunt.

"Mm, Mick."

He thrust two fingers into her eagerly, enjoying the sensation of her cunt clenching around them. She giggled at the sudden intrusion, and he pushed his fingers in and out of her faster, eager for more. He moved his fingers more vigorously as she became wetter.

He removed his fingers, and pulled off his boxers. His cock bounced free; he couldn't wait any longer to be inside of her. He stroked himself twice, savoring the feeling. The head of his hardness was tapped against her entrance, then slid inside of her, inch by inch. He lightly stretched her open, allowing himself to fully enter. He groaned when he filled her up completely, and only slowly moved in and out. 

He went from the tip of cock to the middle of his cock. She was so wet for him. He went balls deep a few times, light taps filled the room with each time he did so.

Her back arched as his dick slid in and out of her, the fuck was swift.

He drove into her with an intense passion. She looked back at him with wide eyes, a mix of pleasure and desperation.

Mick's thrusts were deep and unyielding, directly hitting her g-spot with every movement. Her walls clenched involuntarily as the sensation grew, seeming to never end.

Mick was getting close so he fucked into her harder. Her body slid back and forth beneath him, her stomach moving against the arm. She moved her hips back, urging him on.

"Fuck." He groaned.

He was getting close so he fucked into her harder. Her body slid back and forth beneath him, her stomach moving before the arm. The sensation of her warm skin made him shudder.

He pulled out just in time, his penis coated in sticky white fluid. She got up promptly to kiss him, excited.

Her lips clasped against his and for a moment it was as if no time had passed between them, but then she broke the seal of her mouth and trailed kisses down his chin and neck to his shoulder blade

They were giddy from their illicit activity, like teenagers sneaking away to do each other right under their parents' noses.

Well, it was under someone's nose.

[dandylovesturtles]

once again writing fanfic for an AU that's not mine

uh hi so I guess it is Crying About Future Donnie Hours except this is actually a different future Donnie than the one everyone else is crying about.

I have wanted to write something for @kathaynesart 's Replica for awhile now and I got an idea and I decided to use @tmntaucompetition as an excuse to write and post it, so I guess you could say this is propaganda I didn't expect it to be the day after my poll though so I kinda scrambled a bit aaaaa lol

Replica is one of my favorite ROTTMNT comics, it's one of the first I found after I watched the movie, and I love it so much. If you haven't read it please do! However, there is one part of the comic in particular (and especially one line in particular) that has stuck with me since I first read it, and I think about it a lot. So consider this my little homage to that part of the comic, and to the character who says it.

Also there is a short section of this that is just dialogue from the comic so obviously all credit for that dialogue goes to Kat!

And Kat I really hope you don't mind me playing around in your sandbox a bit /)_(\

Anyway I don't normally title these but I did give the gdoc for this one the title: The Needed Functions to Appreciate It

I hope you enjoy!

~~~

As an AI, experiencing the apocalypse was different.

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. did not have to feel the aching gnaw of hunger, or the bite of the cold. He did not feel the sting of acid rain on skin, or the seeping of blood from injury. All the physical sensations his family and friends suffered, S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. was spared them all.

That did not mean he didn’t feel.

…

“Hey Dee?”

The “Hm?” he got in response was distracted. Donnie was often distracted those days. S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. didn’t resent him for it. He knew how busy Donnie is - he cataloged and prioritized the to-do list himself, after all.

“I still have the timers Raph asked me to set for his training in the system, and all his old records. What…” He hesitated. “What should I do with them?”

“Oh.” That got Donnie to pause in his work oh so briefly. His finger tapped twice on the enter key without pressing. “You can delete all of that. Might as well free up memory space where we can.”

“Okay.” It was the right answer. Members of the resistance were allowed to set timers and save some personal files on S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s system, and protocol dictated that forty eight hours after loss of vitals, S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. should clear such files.

It had been three hundred and fifty seven hours since Raph flatlined. He should have cleared these ages ago.

“Hey Dee,” he said again, more quietly this time, and Donnie actually looked away from his work and gave him his attention.

He hadn’t had a physical body since a raid over a year before; he was just an artistic representation on the monitor. Donnie promised to make him a new one, but S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. could see both the parts inventory and the to-do list and he doubted he would be able to do that. Usually it didn’t bother him, but he thought that day that it bothered him a little.

“I don’t want to,” he admitted, and Donnie’s face shifted to something more sad.

“Ah. You have developed a lot of sentimentality…” Donnie sighed, not unkindly. “Well, you can keep it. I won’t make you delete it.”

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. bounced around the monitor a moment while he mulled it over. Donnie didn’t look away, though one of his battleshell arms took up the task of typing on his computer.

“Isn’t that not good, though, dude? Like… it’s useless now. It’s just taking up space.”

“Yes… sentimentality and practicality are often in direct conflict.” He leaned back in his chair, eyes roving to the ceiling. “Sometimes we just can’t let things go, even against our better judgment, because they remind us of something or… someone.”

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. zoomed himself in so he filled more of the screen. “Do you get sentimental, Dee?”

Donnie’s lips quirked up in a smile. “Yes, unfortunately so. I find it vexing… though, Mikey would say, “That’s what makes you a person, Donnie, don’t fight it!” or something like that.” 

“But if it makes you hold on to useless stuff, or do things that aren’t necessary, isn’t that bad?”

“Ah, such is the nature of emotions, Shelldon - they often lead us to do things that are, for a lack of a better word, suboptimal… Sometimes I think it would be nice to have a switch so I could just turn the pesky things off. I would focus so much better if I never had to feel… anxious or frustrated or… or sad.” He slumped forward, hugging his arms around himself. “If I didn’t have to… to miss anyone.”

“...That’s the worst one,” said S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N., and Donnie nodded.

“Yeah… yeah, it is.” He turned to face S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N., eyes glossy. “But-”

ERROR: Memory file corrupted.

.

.

.

.

“It is a convincing replica. Expertly crafted. You act just like him… Be careful that it does not interfere with our intended purpose.”

“Need I remind you, one of my core purposes is to act as a support to Donatello’s family. That includes you, even if you have chosen to forego the needed functions to appreciate it.”

“A necessary purge to keep the Kraang’s whispers at bay.”

“Was it? That is not what Donatello ever wished of you. Even when you decided to take on this burden.”

“Not having to ‘feel’ has its… benefits.”

“And Donatello was quite firm that you not lock yourself away-”

“Such advanced artificial intelligence, yet you still fail to recognize your own ignorance.”

“To what, exactly?”

“To the bliss in not having to miss him.”

.

.

.

.

Username: OMEGABOOTYYYSHAKER9000

Password: ****************

MEMORY FILE ACCESS AUTHORIZED

Enter date: XX/XX/20XX XX:XX

RETRIEVING MEMORY FILE. . . SUCCESS

AUDIOVISUAL PLAYBACK BEGIN

“But even if missing them keeps you from performing optimally… Running from bad emotions means running from the good ones, too.” Donatello sighed. “At least, that’s what Mikey said to me after Papa… And it took me awhile, but I realized he was right. Don’t tell him I said that, though, or I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Your secret is safe with me, dude.”

“Thank you, Shelldon.” He reached with his hand and touched the screen, and even though they couldn’t actually feel each other, S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. moved like he was nuzzling his palm. “When you see Raph’s training records, it makes you sad, but also makes you remember all the things you loved about him, right?”

“I guess, yeah… He’d always scratch my head when I came to give him his training report. When I had a body.”

“Mm, so that’s why you always went to do it in person.” Donatello chuckled, rubbing his thumb on the monitor. He was sad, then, thinking that he couldn’t build S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. a proper body. Always lacking the time and materials…

“Is it worth it, though?” asked S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.. “The good feelings, when there’s bad feelings, too?”

“Maybe that’s one of the great mysteries of life, Shelldon. All I know is… I don’t want to give them up. Not anymore. And… it’s easier to deal with, when you’re not alone.” Donatello pulled his hand back, and looked at him very seriously. “Anata wa hitorijanai. That’s as true for you as it is for any of us. Your family will always be here for you, when you miss Raph, or anyone else.”

Maybe it made S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. feel better. He smiled, as much as his facial design would allow.

“Okay. And I’ll always be here for you too, Dee.”

“Thank you, Shelldon.”

“Love ya.”

“I love you too.”

End playback? Y 

PLAYBACK ENDED

[tyrian-witch]

In This World of My Own | Chapter Three: One New Message

(Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader)

Yay! New chapter! Finally, it took me so long (aka a month long) but here it is! A little anxious about my writing still, as well as writing Steve’s character, but overall I’m putting myself out there, along with my work. Anyhow, enjoy! Also, fun fact: one of the scenes with Ozart is kind of what gave me some inspiration for this chapter. (My cat Biscuit is the inspiration in question. In other words, this actually happened, minus a speeding car… that’s all I will say.)

Warnings: some swearing (reader mostly swears lol), a tiny mention of blood (it’s just a scratch, really) some overthinking on reader’s end. Also, she's low-key high-key socially awkward. That’s pretty much it :}

Word count: don’t know, don’t really care 🤷🏻

masterlist • previous part

~~~

No work on Saturday meant you had no reason to get up early. You saw your mom briefly this morning before she left to run errands for the day, leaving you home alone with Ozart. You ended up watching Halloween last night when you made it home, and to wash away the creepiness of the film, you now sat with a bowl of cereal in your hands while watching Saturday morning cartoons. Your mind wanders back to the night before, giving Steve your number replays over and over.

Should I have done that? you ask yourself. Probably wasn’t a good idea, he should have given me his number instead. If he wanted to, he would have.

You cringe at the thought, putting your head in your hands.

“Ugh, god why did I do that!?” you groan.

Ozart steps into your lap, nuzzling his little face against your arms.

You give him a little kiss and scratch his head, making him purr. “Hey buddy.”

Eating your cereal, you continue watching whatever cartoon is playing, occasionally petting Ozart, who now is asleep in your lap. You enjoy moments like these, with hardly anything able to disrupt it.

After 20 minutes of just sitting there with numb legs, you decide to take a stretch.

“Hey, let’s take you outside for a bit,” you say sweetly. He makes a little sound in response. “Yeah? Let’s go.”

~~~

With Ozart in his red harness, you stood outside on your front lawn, leaving the front door semi-open. He stays close to you. He’s a bit skittish, so you take baby steps with him, slowly walking on the grass. He sniffs it, investigating every bit of earth surrounding him.

Another cloudy autumn day dawned over Hawkins, and this time it was just a bit chillier than it had been lately.

Ozart continues with his inspection as you stand patiently, watching him. You wrap your house coat impossibly tighter around you, feeling the cold sinking in.

“H-hey, we should go back inside soon, bud,” you say through chattering teeth.

He looks up at you with beady eyes and meows, throwing himself on the ground, exposing his tummy.

“Cutie pie. C’mon, we should go.”

In the near distance, you hear the roaring sound of a car engine. Instantly, you reach to pick the cat up, holding him close to you; you can see the alertness set in his eyes, ears back.

“It’s okay,” you coo. “We’re going in.”

At that moment, the car speeds down the street, the booming sound of the engine causing Ozart to attempt to free himself from your hold.

“Nonono- ah, shit!” You hiss, dropping him as he makes a beeline for the open door. You look at the palm of your hand, a pained, wheezing groan leaving your lips. He’s left a scratch on your left hand, starting from the inner side of your thumb, down to the middle bottom section of your palm, a curved line that was now starting to bleed. “Fuckin’ assholes, speeding’ all over the damn place.”

~~~

After tending to your wound and bandaging it up with gauze, you lay on your side, under your cozy duvet to warm up, staring at the telephone on your nightstand - Ozart lays at the foot of your bed asleep It was 12:03 pm, and your mind wandered back once again to yesterday.

Maybe he’s working today and I could see- no, just- just don’t do that. I could call- no, I don’t even have his number, idiot. What the hell am I thinking?

"Screw it, I need'a clear my head," you mumble to yourself. "Be back soon, bud."

~~~

Meanwhile…

“She gave you her number and you didn’t think to give her yours??” It was Robin’s voice, and she could not believe her ears.

“Well- yeah, I wasn’t expecting it!” Steve was pacing in his room while he held the receiver in one hand and the telephone in the other. “I guess I didn’t know what to say, it’s like my whole mojo just- disappeared-”

“Well call her, you moron!”

“What if she doesn’t pick up?” he asks, uncertain.

“If she doesn’t, just try again later or something. She seems really nice. You have a chance, I can feel it, just don’t blow it!” his friend encourages on the other end of the line. “Besides, how will you know if you don’t try?”

“Okay, fair enough. Lemme call you back.”

~~~

The phone rings in your room, but the only one there is Ozart, still asleep in your bed.

~~~

“Hey, this is Y/n. You know what to do.” Beep!

Steve stood very still in his room, the only audible thing was his breathing. “Uh… oh! Hi! This is Steve- from-from- from yesterday, from Family Video- or- the cafe-” he stammers.

Get it together, man.

“You gave me your number. Uh… anyways I wanted to call you but I didn’t know if you’d answer. If you’re not busy sometime, my offer still stands if you wanted to hang out. Uh, whenever you’re free! Or- yeah.”

He cringes at his own words. “Bye!” He hangs up.

Sighing, he dials Robin’s number again.

In no time, she’s picking up.

“So, did she answer?” Her voice is eager on the other end.

“No,” he sighs.

“Well, damn. She might be busy, ya never know.”

~~~

Bike rides were your way of clearing your mind, with the additional help of music, but today you couldn’t properly focus with the sound of Queen playing over your speakers.

So instead, you rode in silence, small backpack in the basket of your bike, with a sketchbook and pencil case inside.

You exhale softly, closing your eyes as you breathe in the cool autumn air.

“See,” you say to yourself, “this is why I don’t bother with people. This is exactly why.”

You were coming up on Main Street now, your eye on a little bakery up past the grocery store. You figure you’ll check it out, maybe stop for a bite to eat. Maybe it will ease your mind a bit, stop you from cringing at yesterday’s interaction.

~~~

“I’ll take a small chilli and a brioche bun to go, please.”

You stood at the till and ordered your choice of food, the lady at the front nodding and confirming your order.

“Here’s your number,” she says, handing you the small receipt.

Mumbling a ‘thanks,’ you take it and wait patiently, looking around the store. You notice how colourful the inside is with all the pastries and sweets on display, looking almost unreal, their textures just out of reach. You could buy all of them if you had the money.

Ha, imagine that.

Humming a random tune, your eyes wander out the window, and something catches your eye; a maroon BMW across the street. You had noticed it yesterday in the parking lot of Family Video. You could only assume who the owner of the car is.

Is that… no. No way, no. It’s not. It’s whatever.

Feeling suddenly nervous, you turn back around, just in time as the lady serves you your takeout lunch. Thanking her again, you walk out the bakery a little fast, making a beeline towards your bike, You stick your food in the basket and book it out of Main Street, in the opposite direction of the BMW.

~~~

B.F.P.O

Army dreamers

Mammy’s hero

The sun peeked out, the afternoon sky shining in the slightest; you cruise onto a clear, empty path, with a playground in the far distance. The sounds of Kate Bush fills your ears while the outside noise of tweeting birds roam the air.

Our little army boy

Is coming home from B.F.P.O.

I’ve a bunch of purple flowers

To decorate a mammy’s hero

Mourning in the aerodrome

The weather warm, he is colder

Four men in uniform

To carry home my little soldier

You mumble along, now nearing closer to the park. “What could he do, shoulda been a rockstar.”

But he didn’t have the money for a guitar

“What could he do, shoulda been a politician.”

But he never had a proper education

Parking your bike next to a bench, you hop off, lunch in hand now; you carry on with your mumble-singing. “What he could he do, shoulda been a father.”

But he never even made it to his twenties

What a waste

Army dreamers

Oh, what a waste of

Army dreamers

You let the rest of the song play.

Eating your still warm food, you watch a group of ducks swimming in a little pond about a few feet away from the playground. The scene makes you smile.

Getting up, you decide to take half a piece of your brioche bun and slowly make your way over to where the little duck family is relaxing.

"Hey, little guys," you whisper, slowly breaking off the pieces of bread. "I probably shouldn't do this. You hungry?"

The ducks waddle their way over to you, feathered tails wagging while they quack in interest.

You squat down to their level, leaving breadcrumbs their way. "Have some, don't be shy. I should be okay. Don't think I'll get in trouble... I hope not."

"I won't tell anyone," a voice says from behind.

Startled, you try to quickly turn around to see who said that, but you fall flat on your back, followed by a thump.

"Ow."

"Jesus, are you okay?"

Squinting one eye closed, you look up and the one standing before you is none other than Steve Harrington, holding his hand out now for you to take.

Steve.

"Oh god, uh- y-yeah, I'm good," you mumble.

"Here, lemme help you up," he coaxes.

Taking your right hand, he lifts you up with ease.

"You okay?" he asks a second time, for good measure.

You nod, your shock from before dissipating. “What are you- what are you doing? Here? What are you doing here?” you ask him.

He shoves his hands in his pockets and looks down at his feet. “I was, uh- I called you but-”

“Oh, you did?”

“Yeah but I guess you weren’t home and I thought I’d go out for a drive or something-”

“I’m so sorry, I-”

His head shoots up. “No, don’t be it’s okay! I saw you on Main Street, and-”

Your brows furrow at that. “Did you follow me?”

His eyes widen at your insinuation. “Nonono, I didn’t follow you, I swear.”

“You didn’t??”

“No, but I do come around here sometimes,” he admits. “I swear, I would never- I’m not a creepy stalker or anything, I promise.”

“Well… you said it, not me.”

He freezes momentarily.

That’s when you crack a smile. “I’m kidding. You’re good.”

He runs a hand through his hair and laughs. “Okay, whew! You scared me for a second.”

“You scared me!”

“Yeah, sorry about that.” Now he’s smiling sheepishly.

“You’re forgiven,” you tell him with a shrug. You leave the rest of the bread for the ducks and make your way back to where you were sitting before. Steve doesn’t miss a beat and catches up with you.

“So, what are you doing here?” he says.

“Uh, well I didn’t know what to do today, I guess. I figured a little field trip to the park would be a good idea, y’know? Have a bite to eat, somethin’ like that.” You’re sitting down again, scooping bites of your semi-warm chilli. The boy doesn’t hesitate to sit next to you.

He looks at your left hand where the gauze wrap is - concern crossing his features as he points it out. “What happened here?”

“Oh, this?” your mouth is full of food. You put a hand to your mouth so you can finish chewing. As you’re swallowing, you’re waving a hand before talking again. “This is nothing, don’t worry.”

“You sure about that?” he raises a brow.

“Yeah no, it was just my cat,” you tell him nonchalantly.

“You have a cat??”

Boy, he sure asks a lotta questions.

“Yes, I have a cat. Wanna see? Here.” You fish through your backpack until you pick out your wallet. “This,” you say, taking out some Polaroid pictures, “is Ozart!”

He carefully takes the small collection of pictures from your hands and looks through each of them. One was a picture of Ozart sleeping, another one of him laying on his back with his back paws curled, and another of him looking like a loaf of bread. “Oh! Oh, he’s so cute!”

“I know right! He’s my little baby.” Beaming, you resume finishing your lunch.

“What did he do to hurt you?” he asks as he hands back the pictures to you.

Your brows pinch together while you chew. “Some asshole sped down the street while we were outside and I was carrying him. Poor thing got so scared.”

“Oh, well that’s a total dick move,” his tone was disapproving, showing he agreed with your sentiment. How could he not?

“Anyways it’s fine. Shit like that happens all the time,” you tell him matter-of-factly, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world.

“What, having assholes speed down the street?”

“No, getting scratched by Ozart.”

“That’s not normal, is it?”

“For me it is, look.” You roll up your sleeves and display your faded scars from your cat, showing them off like prized trophies. “This is fine.”

“Uh- wow,” his face says it all, looking shocked. “That is so not normal.”

“Eh, for me it is. Only if you have a cat, then you’ll know. I wear these scars proudly,” you say triumphantly.

“I- ok, that’s-” he shakes his head in disbelief, “Jesus, okay.”

You squint your eyes at him. “What, you don’t like cats?”

“No- no, I do!” he defends quickly. “I’ve never had one before.”

“Damn. That’s too bad. Maybe you can meet Ozart one day.” You smile.

He sighs in relief when he sees your expression, and smiles back. “Yeah? That’d be cool.”

“Cool!”

The two of you stayed there for a little while, asking each other questions and getting to know each other. You asked him about what Hawkins was like, about the rumours you had heard about it being “cursed,” and him saying something about how “it has its history”. In return, he asked about where you used to live. You tell him you and your mom moved from Detroit, about what it was like. He presses with another question:

“What do you think about Hawkins?"

You think about your answer for a moment before shrugging. "This place seems… chill for the most part.”

He chuckles at that. “Chill. Yeah, totally chill.”

You smile. "Yeah, I mean it's okay. The kids at school tend to stare a lot, though which is kind of annoying?"

Steve frowns when you say that. "Why, have they been giving you any trouble?"

"Oh! No, no, nothing like that. I guess the only do it cause I’m new, which, admittedly is a bit uncomfortable. It’s whatever.”

“Well, if anyone does bother you, just let me know.” His words are full of certainty when he says it. It invites you to trust him a little.

You duck your head to hide your bashfulness before looking back up to meet his eyes. “All right then, I guess I will.”

“Cool.” He smiles kindly at you.

After few minutes of sitting in silence and watching the ducks waddle around the pond, you speak up again. “I should probably head home soon. I don’t want Ozart to get all worried.”

Steve lets out an amused laugh. “Hey, uh before you leave,” he says, reaching into the pocket of his jacket, “lemme give you this.” He hands you a slip of paper with his number on it.

Your eyes light up a bit, a blush creeping on your face. “Oh! Uh- cool. Cool cool,” you try to act nonchalant. “Thanks. Maybe I’ll give you a call.”

“Yeah, you should,” he’s almost teasing you.

“Again, sorry I missed your call.”

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it.” He’s genuine when he says it. “See you around, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you tell him. “See ya.”

As you’re taking your leave, you turn around to send him a wave goodbye and he smiles, doing a call motion. He’s telling you ‘call me.’ You roll your eyes playfully, smiling back at him and then you’re gone again on your bike.

~~~

“I’m getting back into it I think,” Steve says to Robin later when he’s organizing the newly released films. It’s 3 pm when the afternoon starts to dull the sky, all grey and cloudy.

“I’m not following,” she admits.

“Y/n, I saw her today!”

“Ooh! You did?”

“Yeah, it’s funny cause you were right - she was busy, and I saw her at the park where the duck pond is and-”

“You didn’t stalk her, did you?” Robin laughs.

He scoffs at her accusation and glares. “No. Funny enough she said the same thing. But anyways! I gave her my number this time and get this: she took it, and she didn’t like- act weird about it.”

“You’re finally taking my advice and not throwing yourself at the ladies like an idiot,” she beams playfully. “You’re not being weird.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever you say, Buckley.”

“Any time dingus!”

~~~

The rest of your day had ended up being busy when your mom came home and announced that a grocery shopping spree was much needed, and so was your help.

So your chill Saturday turned into a busy one; now it’s 9 pm and you check the telephone on your nightstand.

“You have one new message,” says the voice of a robotic woman, followed by a ‘beep!’ That’s when you hear his voice.

“Uh… oh! Hi! This is Steve- from-from- from yesterday, from Family Video- or- the cafe-”

You chuckle when he stutters over his words. You think it’s kind of funny… and- cute?

“You gave me your number. Uh… anyways I wanted to call you but I didn’t know if you’d answer. If you’re not busy sometime, my offer still stands if you wanted to hang out. Uh, whenever you’re free! Or- yeah. Bye!”

“Poor guy sounded so nervous,” you say to yourself, dialling his number into the machine now. You stay where you’re sitting on your bed, listening to the receiver ring once, twice, three times. It goes to voicemail.

“Hey, it’s Steve, leave a message.” Beep!

You sit in silence for a moment when you realize you’re meant to talk. “Oh! Hey, it’s me. I finally listened to your message, and now I can actually call you, except now you’re busy,” you say through a soft laugh. “Uh, today was unexpected but also pretty neat. I am free any day, except Wednesday and Thursday but other than that, I’m good. And yes, I accept your offer, Steve. I’d love to hang out with you-” you pause. Love? Okay, just pump the breaks, chill out.

“Anyhow, yeah just gimme a call and I’ll be sure to answer this time,” you say quickly. “Talk later,” and then you hang up.

You fall back onto your bed and look up at the ceiling. “Why am I so weird?”

Fidgeting with a rubber ball in your hand, you toss it up at the ceiling and catch it a few times, doing so out of boredom. After a few minutes, you stop.

Blowing raspberries, you turn over to see Ozart grooming himself. “Hey buddy,” you scratch his little head. As you’re gently petting him, the blaring sound of the phone ringing jolts you out of your peaceful absentmindedness. You reach for the receiver and answer. “Hello?”

You hear shuffling on the other end before someone speaks. “Oh! Hey Y/n!”

You recognize his voice. “Oh! Steve, hi! I thought you’d be… busy?” you say, almost uncertain.

“Uh, yeah no I just got home from work, actually,” he says.

“Ohh I see. That’s good, that’s good.” You play with the curly cord between your fingers. “I’m guessing you got my message?”

He smiles when he hears your soft laughter on the other end. “I did,” he tells you, “and I know for sure you got mine.”

“Yep, yep definitely.”

“Ssso,” he begins, “when would you wanna hang out again?” He felt nervous asking you to see each other a second time, but he’s unaware that you’re genuinely interested and not like the other girls he’s attempted to get to know and then fail so miserably.

“Well, besides watching cartoons every weekend first thing in the morning and spending time with my cat, aka my only friend, I am very much free. We can easily hang out tomorrow.”

Silence.

“…if you want,” you added.

“I- y-yeah! No, totally! Tomorrow is good!” he says quickly. “Uh, what do you wanna do?”

“Hm…” you contemplate his question. “Well… if you want to be on my short list of friends, you can get me out of the house with food,” you suggest playfully.

His eyebrows shoot up, a giddy expression crossing his face. “In that case, there’s a really good diner across town?” he offers, almost like a question. You can’t see it, but he’s crossing his fingers.

“Ooh! A diner? Count me in,” you lay back on your bed with the phone still in your hand. You sound so excited, he can’t help but smile at how cute you’re being.

“What time should we go?”

“Lunch time is perfect. What say you, stalker?”

“Lunch it is!” he exclaims. “And don’t call me a stalker, I promise I didn’t follow you today.”

“Hmm, weeeell too bad, that’s your new name,” you tell the boy, your teasing tone making him smile fondly on the other end.

He laughs in disbelief, shaking his head at your antics. “Sure whatever you say, cat girl.”

You roll your eyes. “Are you suggesting I’m a cat girl simply because I own a cat and stay indoors?”

“I mean… you don’t get out much, you must be a true, stay-at-home cat girl.”

“If you tried to insult me, it backfired because I will now wear that name like a badge of honour.”

Jesus, this girl’s hilarious, Steve thinks to himself.

A beat of silence.

“Ssssooo…” his voice buzzes through your ears, “I’ll be seeing you tomorrow…” Steve had meant to sound more confident than unsure of himself.

The way he says it has you feeling somehow… giddy? Is that the word to describe how you’re feeling?

You bite your lip and smile. “Yeah of course. Tomorrow noon,” you confirm.

Now it’s him who’s smiling like a kid on Christmas morning. “Yep, exactomundo, you got it!” He hears you giggling.

“Perfect then.”

“Oh! Before I let you go, where do you live?”

“Mmmm- whyyy…?”

“So I can pick you up, duh.”

You’re not sure why those words make your stomach do a bunch of backflips. Your heart beats fast at the thought of tomorrow’s outing. A guy, who you just met, and who also happens to be cute slash insanely handsome (question mark), wants to hang out with you. It’s not a date, though. Just a bite to eat, that’s all.

A bite to eat with a pretty cute guy.

You’ve got to ease the butterflies somehow.

“Are you sure it’s not because you’re a stalker?” you poke at him. “You totally plan on stalking me, don’t you?”

“I- no! I did not stalk you, okay?” He’s baffled, but it hasn’t occurred to him yet that you’re just playing. Just give him a moment to catch on. “I-”

“Lemme guess: you just so happened to go to the same park? It doesn’t help your case when you snuck up on me-”

“I’m allowed to go to the park,” he grumbles.

“Never pegged you as the type to go to the park.”

“Well, it’s a small town, so…”

“Yep, no, nooo for sure.” You cover your mouth to stifle the laughter that threats to spill through.

A few seconds of silence pass before Steve’s voice rings through the speakers again.

“You’re pulling my leg here, aren’t you?” he deadpans.

“Noooooo… maybeeee?” You can’t help but laugh now. It blares through his end of the line, unaware of the way it’s slowly altering his brain chemistry.

A fond scoff escapes him. “Okay, but seriously, where do you live.”

You give yourself a moment to calm down before speaking again.

“I live at 616 Old Cherry Road,” you finally tell him.

“See? Wasn’t so hard, was it?” he teases.

You mock his words childishly. “Yeah, yeah, get your yucks in now, buddy.”

The boy chuckles at your behaviour. “All right then, get your sleep, yeah? See ya tomorrow.”

“Yeah, see you tomorrow, stalker.”

Once the goodbyes were exchanged, you hang up and find yourself falling on your back, landing on the softness of your duvet. Sighing to yourself, you can’t help but ask:

“What the hell is happening?”

~~~

➤ next part coming soon

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Mise en Place 7

Warnings: noncon, coercion, manipulation. Proceed with caution.

Note:I’ll be honest that these parts are a little more hands on because I’m full on learning cocktail recipes here lol.

Thanks all for reading and I hope you’re excited for this one. All feedback is more than welcome and loved and appreciated. Reblogs are most helpful.

Part of The Club AU

You leave your apartment, the window boarded up with your landlords half-assed at replacement. You almost prefer the wood; more resilient and you can’t see through it. Still, the place feels eerie. Your little fortress has been breached and the mystery of the attacker has you addled.

You walk into work as you always do. Head down, bag hooked over one shoulder, fingers twiddling as you go through your task list in your mind. You put your things in the coatroom and go to the kitchen.

You grab the broom and mop, eager to go over anything you didn't get to before. Behind the bar, upstairs and downstairs and the private rooms that were always in use even after closing. You methodically work your way from the bottom floor up.

As you return the bucket and pan, Thor is behind the bar. You give a small hi as he booms his usual hello. You tuck away the broom and mop and wipe your hands on your apron, grabbing a cloth to tuck into it from the tidy stack leftover from the day before. You have a whole load of napkins to deliver to the servers' station.

Thor enters as you begin sorting through the cutlery into the slotted tray. You peek up at him briefly, shying back to your task.

"How are you? Good night?"

"Mhmm," you hum, "you?"

"Good," he answers, letting silence dangle as he gives a thoughtful hum, "you made it home okay?"

"Safe and sound," you reply as you examine a spoon and put it by the sink to be rewashed.

"And a nice sleep?"

You pause as his line of questioning irks you. He's nice enough but sometimes his conversation feels intrusive. You told him already, you're fine.

"Yep," you shrug, "how about your night?"

"Ah, I did some reading, and a bit of drinking," he winks as you glance at him once more, "they've still not rehired. Just me again."

"That's too bad."

"Lonesome," he chuckles lightly, "but I can always count on you, can't I, fawn?"

You nod, elusive at giving an answer. You don't like being behind the bar and to be fair, it's frustrating doing extra work without the pay to match.

"Have I done something? Said something?" He prods as he comes closer, standing at the other side of the counter.

"No."

"Hmm," he hums as his large hands rest on the silver edge, "you certain?"

You nod again. You hate to even think it, it feels mean, but you just want to be left alone. You miss those days when no one noticed you.

"Well… my hand feels much better," he waves his bandaged fingers.

"That's good," your lips twitch with a momentary smile, "I should take this to the hub."

"Nah, I got it," he volunteers as he grabs the tray of silverware, "little thing like you carrying all this around, that's no good."

"I do it all the time–"

"Yes, well, perhaps it is time you let others help, fawn," he insists, keeping the tray out of your reach, "you might actually enjoy it."

He spins and struts out before you can respond. You don't even know how you would. It confounds you how he can be so friendly yet so pushy. It puts you off yet makes you feel so ungrateful. You can't assume the worst of him because he reminds you of someone else.

🍸

You finish your shift without much disturbance. A few times you bring out clean glasses to the bar and incap a few bottles but nothing exhaustive. Sonny keeps you entertained as he tells you about his time in the corps. He also makes sure Thor can't steal you away again as he keeps you busy with the pans.

The chef leaves first. He works short shifts, leaving the kitchen tidy as he puts on his leather vest and gives a wave. You enter the bar as last call sounds and gather up any empties you can find, you'll do another sweep once it's empty.

You wait out the last of the clubgoers and return to the dance floor, oddly quiet and vacant. The servers count their tips at the station and you hear the subtle clink of glasses from behind the bar. You have your earbuds in still, the low buzz of your favourite playlist easing the tension.

You don't notice when the servers leave, silence is only ever comforting so you rarely make note of it. As you bend to grab a crushed can from beneath a table, a foot appears around the other side. You stand and face Thor as he smiles at you.

"Need help?" He offers.

"All good," you assure him as you dump the can in the plastic bag.

He stares and you back away, looking around for more garbage.

"What're you listening to?" He frightens you again as the blur of his finger fills your peripheral as he points to your ear.

"Oh nothing," you say, "just music."

"What kind of music?"

You blanch. It feels too rude to ignore him or ask him to leave you be. You're working but there's not much left to do. You stand up and face him. Again, you're reminded of his height.

"Florence and the Machine."

"Ah, I love her, er, them?" He questions, "it is a band, yes?"

"I think," you push your lip out indecisively.

"Do you listen to music often?"

"I guess," you squint. His questions are stiff and awkward. Almost like an interrogation.

"You have a record player," he says and you wince, thinking of the green suitcase player in the corner of your apartment, "asking. Sorry, that came out weird."

You clutch the bag and utter an answer, "yeah…" you look around, "I should finish…"

"Of course," he gulps audibly, "let me know if you need me to walk you home… I heard about another girl, eh? At the club down the block, you know the one, right?"

You don't know. You shake your head, "I had no idea, thanks."

"Wanna make sure you're safe," he backs away slowly, "so I'll wait by the door?"

You hesitate and grab a napkin, shoving it in the bag.

"You should just go home, I hate to keep you late."

"I don't mind–"

"I do," you interrupt without meaning to. You sniff and look at him, "really, I'll be okay."

He stares at you, the humour draining from his face as his cheek tics. He looks very unlike himself. It takes your breath away.

Just as quickly as he darkened, he brightens up again and turns his palms out, "stay safe."

He turns and strides away. You watch his back and tension corded in his forearms as he closes and opens his fists. The tenor of his last words hang in the air, more ominous than hopeful.

Maybe it's all in your head. It's the broken window and the unattached footsteps and the memories. You're fucked up and that's why you're better off alone.