#POUNDING MY FISTS ON THE FLOOR. I REALLY LIKE IT!!!!!!!!!!!

[endwersed]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged in (a little while ago) by the brilliant @violetfairydust & @crownofstardustandbone ✨

I'm still working through the first draft of my next fic, call it off - a high school AU with closeted jock Derek and out loser Stiles. Lots of angst can be expected, and here's a little snippet of some 😄

-

Behind Stiles, the hinges of the bathroom door creak, not a knock or a word before it opens slowly, before somebody comes right in and does not immediately flee upon finding the room already occupied. He grits his teeth, his eyes screwing shut so hard colour dances behind his eyelids, and crushes his fingers white-knuckle tight around the edge of the sink.

“Someone’s already in here,” he says.

No response. No cowed footsteps of retreat, either. Just the hinges of the door sounding once again, the snick as it shuts firmly and locks whoever that fucking is inside here with him.

“Dude,” he says, a harsh snap to his voice, “I just fucking said. Someone’s already in –”

He lifts his head, opens his eyes, and spies the intruder through the mirror. His warning cuts off with an abrupt click of his teeth, the pit of his stomach sinking right down to his feet as his eyes lock with none other than Derek fucking Hale, those sharp features dark and twisted in that unmistakable reflection.

“You’re not supposed to be in here,” Derek says.

There is nothing that Stiles can do to stymie the sudden, incredulous laugh that barks right out of him. He spins quickly in place, hands flying up into the air as he moves, wild and trembling as they hover out in front of him, his head already shaking as he snags Derek’s eye once again.

“The fuck, man?” He lets his hands crash back down to slap against his thighs. “Did you fucking follow me?”

“Yes,” Derek says, instant and flat and entirely unrepentant, even as Stiles’ eyes practically bug right out of his skull. “What the hell do you think you’re playing at?”

“Um, I’m using the bathroom,” Stiles snarks, eyebrows shot halfway up his forehead as he flings an arm out to gesture around the room. “Which isn’t something I really need your help with, actually. So you can, you know – get the fuck out.”

A muscle ticks at the notch of Derek’s jaw, his hands already curled into tight fists at his sides. His eyes are locked onto Stiles, unrelenting, as he takes a single, small step forwards. It is still enough to send Stiles reeling backwards, stumbling over his own feet to get away, the edge of the sink jutting painfully at the base of his spine.

Derek stops. It does not even look like he is breathing. His shoulders are squared rigid and back, the corded muscle of his forearms tensed to prominent attention. A slow, ragged exhale pushes out from his flared nostrils.

“You’re only talking to that guy to piss me off,” he grits out.

Stiles’ jaw practically hits the floor, his head already swinging in disbelief. His breathes are coming out hard and fast, his nails scratching into the rough denim of his jeans, his heart pounding the beat of an unsteady drum against the brittle bones of his ribcage.

“You’re unbelievable,” he says, a nasty curl to his lip. “I’m talking to him because he’s hot, and he’s single, and he’s not ashamed to admit who he really fucking is. That’s more than I can say for you, asshole.”

“He probably just wants to fuck you,” Derek sneers.

“Well, yippee,” Stiles laughs, high and harsh and hollow. “I guess that means me and him want the same fucking thing, doesn’t it?”

It has exactly the intended effect. Derek’s face falls into something gutted, something cracked right open, raw and vulnerable. Stiles slides his gaze up to the ceiling, a burn at the back of his eyes that he will not pay heed to, anything so that he won’t have to see that expression on Derek for even a moment longer.

“You… you left.” Stiles’ voice is quiet, broken already on those two words alone. “You just… left me there. You messed around with me, spewed all this bullshit about how much you like me, and then you fucking… you ran away.” He pauses, a shudder of choked breath catching in his throat. “You said it was a mistake. You said it was wrong.”

“It was wrong,” Derek snaps, his words fast, urgent. “Don’t you get it? I – I had to leave.”

Stiles flicks his hard gaze down from the ceiling. He meets Derek’s lost, pale eyes.

“Then leave,” he says, nowhere near as steadily as he wants to. “Stop chasing after me. Let me talk to whoever I want, to Luke or to – or to whoever the fuck, I don’t know. You leave me, and I’ll leave you, and we can both just get on with our fucking lives.”

He does not let another second pass before he pushes himself away from the sink, a jerk of his body to propel him forwards, intent on shoving right past Derek, knocking right through him. But he finds himself caught, finds himself stopped, by the too-tight clamp of Derek’s fingers gripping at his arm, curling around his elbow and digging harshly, desperately, in.

Their faces are far, far closer than they should be as they stare at one another. The space between them is filled with ragged, meshing, panting breaths.

“Don’t do anything with him,” Derek whispers.

It sounds like a plea as it slips softly from Derek’s mouth. Stiles shuts his eyes against its sincerity and rips his arm out of Derek’s entreating hold.

“That’s not really any of your fucking business, is it?” he spits. “So just… just fuck off, Derek. Go back to your girlfriend. Leave me alone and go back to your fucking girlfriend.”

-

No pressure tags! @anothersigh @dear-massacre @eevylynn @heavensenthale @like-lazarus 🩷

@lucky-bishop @okdeannawrites @patolemus @raisesomehale @renmackree 🩷

[obstinaterixatrix]

I need someone to write yuri that is exactly 1:1 like 11st. I need the author to write yuri the exact way they write bl.

[cartoonybus]

i hate my autism sometimes, like im 26 WHY am i seripusly contemplating not going on the yearly family reunion camping trip just so i can draw pnf fanart on my computer

[osachiyo]

searched pervy xavier here and am very disappointed that i do not share this notion with anyone else 😔

tws: n/sfw content, panty stealing, getting caught, mentions of non-consensual recording, masturbation, reader brings other ppl home, he’s a lil pathetic but we love him, 0.6k+ wc, jealous!xavier, he’s a lil nasty tbh, my writing is messy here cuz I wrote this on a whim apologies if there are any errors ₊ 𓂃 also nonnie me 🤝 you … but imagine him as your pervy roommate . ps. art by rororo_mg on X + star dividers made by @saradika-graphics (check emout!)

Perv roommate!Xavier thinks you’re so damn cute, honestly, you're just the sweetest thing ever. Every morning, he can't help but smile when he sees you in the kitchen, making breakfast for the both of you. There's something about the way you move so effortlessly, humming to yourself while you cook, that completely melts his heart and makes his cock stir in his sweats. He can’t help but stare at the little shorts barely covering your plump ass fully.. fantasizing about walking up behind you and bending you over the kitchen counter. Xavier imagined how your cunt would taste on his tongue- how your pussy would gush in his face as he ate you out like a man starved.

perv roommate!Xavier makes a habit to purposefully drop stuff in front of you, giving you his best puppy eyes and requesting that you pick it up for him, and it worked like a charm every time. Little did you know that it was only an excuse to have you bend over in front of him— azure eyes raking over the tempting view you put on, saliva gathering in his mouth as he stared at the roundness of your ass. Hell, he could even see your puffy pussy lips through your tight shorts— were you wearing them on purpose?

perv roommate!Xavier who knows about your little toys— the baby pink vibrator that you use at night, not knowing your roommate is pleasuring himself to your sweet little moans and yelps. His hand squeezing his cock tightly, trying to imagine how your soft cunt would feel around him— or even your cute little mouth. He’d try and match his thrusts to your moans, and it makes him cum embarrassingly quick— sticky white goop spilling on his bedroom floor and hands, leaving him panting. Maybe he should set up a camera in your room sometime..

perv roommate!Xavier who gets jealous when you bring a random guy home one night, telling him that you’ll try not to be loud. ‘Why would you bring another guy home when he was right there?’ — he thought, as he heard the wet, lewd sounds of you getting fucked by another man. Fuck, it made him mad but also he couldn’t help but get turned on by it. The sounds of your bed creaking- slamming against the wall, your wails and cries of pleasure as you got pounded into the sheets made Xavier’s cock throb in his pants. God, he really was a freak— getting off to another man fucking the girl he liked.

perv roommate!Xavier who would insist on doing laundry for the both of you— but that's only an excuse to steal your panties. He can't help it, y'know? They're so cute and pretty.. and just perfect to wrap around his cock while he fucks his fist with the thought of you in his mind. Sometimes he even likes to sniff 'em, groaning out loud as the scent of your pussy floods his senses. He can't help but lap his tongue over the small wet spot on the thin material, suckling at the spot where your clit would be— moaning and whining as spurts of pre leaked from his cock.

perv roommate!Xavier who was currently jerking his cock with your used panties wrapped around his cock in the living room— shamelessly getting off to the thought of fucking your sweet, warm little hole while you were at work. He was so focused on how you would feel around him, that he didn't even hear the front door open. You could only gasp at the sight— his cream colored sweater pulled up and pants pulled down, and clenching and unclenching with each pump of his hand- wait.. were those your panties?! Before you could even reprimand him— or even get a word in, for that matter, Xavier's head whipped to your direction as he heard the small noise— his panicked blue eyes catching your own shocked ones.

"Oh. Shit."

[whorelaud]

꒦꒷ 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 dirty little secret ¡

pairing police officer!bfb!Jun-ho x brat!reader

summary Jun-ho catches you red handed, what other way to teach you a lesson than to take advantage of the situation and arrest you, then fuck the attitude out of you? 

warnings smut, unprotected p in v, public sex, oral (f recieving), dirty talk, praise & degradation, jun-ho putting you in handcuffs, car sex (against it), mention of reader briefly smoking

Someone like yourself should not accompany Jun-ho's head as one frequently does. Yet, there he was, leisurely stroking his hard cock, while reminiscing over the sheepish smile you flashed him earlier, one that shall be deemed innocent, not something he fantasizes about at the dim of midnight. 

He tried, he really did strive to keep a distance, avoid the proximity of your touch when your arm in the slightest bit brushes over his, constantly reminding himself that you were forbidden, someone he could merely admire from afar, as you were his best friend's little sister. 

Jun-ho oughts to respect his friend's wishes, aware how much he cared for you, never missing a chance to scold you whenever you'd engage in any malice acts. Jun-ho would sit back and watch, oddly entertained by your witty attitude, and the way your face would twist with venom, the action so attractive, he fought the urge to arrest you for it. 

It was a dirty, filthy fantasy, the desire to fuck you senseless while you desperately grind down on his cock, to put handcuffs on you and pound into you from behind, where he'd see your ass bounce with each thrust stretching your needy hole. However, all he could do was stroke himself and pretend it was your little fingers doing it instead, in hopes of it actually happening, well aware you were out of his league, way out of his orbit. 

That escalated, when he randomly spotted you in the middle of the woods while he was on duty. He frowned upon seeing you tangled in a bush, with a lit blunt firmly in between your lips. He hesitated over approaching you, doing it with haste, as he deliberately exited the car, afraid he was mistaking you for someone else, but no, it was you. 

He could recognize you from a mile away, not even the bush of weed covering the majority of your face could change that. The boy aimed the flashlight in your direction, halting before he muttered your name, causing you to freeze in your spot. 

The lighter in your hold drops to the floor, leaving you fisting nothing but your manicured fingernails as they dug into the flesh. Your blood ran cold, and you suddenly felt helpless, as a rush of embarrassment washed over you. 

Your eyes fluttered shut, hoping this would be a dream, one of your stupid little thoughts, but no, it was really him; Jun-ho. Yeah, you're screwd. 

Why did he of all people have to see you like this; when you do idiotic stuff out of pure stress. You've been overwhelmed the whole day, uncapable of cheering up, till you randomly found a joint lying around in your drawer, leading to you tippy toeing out of the house, and heading towards your go-to place when you wanted to smoke. 

Typically, no cops hung around the area, but today, life had other plans for you, ones not so bad. 

"Is that you?" He continued his unfinished sentence from earlier, gaze shifting down to the joint you smushed to the floor. "What are you doing here?" 

"Jun-ho!" You squealed with fake excitement, stumbling as you stood to your feet. "What are you doing here?" 

"Jus' doing my job, an' you?" One of his brows curled with suspicion, hand finding the curve of his hip. "What's a girl like you doing out here? Aren't you afraid something might happen to you?" 

"A girl like me? C'mon, you think I can't handle myself?" you scoffed, tone hinted with sarcasm. You dusted the dirt off your skirt, leaning down with a purpose, in hopes of Jun-ho stealing a glance at your pink lace-panties, covering nothing, and exposing the shell of your ass. "Besides, you're the one who looks afraid."

"Yeah, obviously," he admitted with shame, stammering out of frustration. "What will your brother say when he knows you're out at such a late hour?" 

"Relax, old man, I'll be fine." You roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. "Unless you decide to snitch on me..." 

That shoots blood through his veins, clenching his jaw over your attempt to get under his skin. He knows what you were doing, aware of your intentions to mess with him, and fool his already hazy brain into thinking your tone was flirtatious. 

"Get in the car," he demanded, dismissing you with his chin as he took a few steps in your direction, eyes narrowing when he took a whiff of the stiff air. "Were you smoking?" 

"No." You swiftly shook your head, though your tense expression gave the lie away. 

"Yes you were," he insists, directing the flashlight to your feet, and bending down when he spotted the freshly lit blunt now flattened to the floor. "Have you not learned your lesson? How many times did your brother tell you not to smoke? Marijuana, of all things."

"It's one time thing!" You exclaimed, throwing your arms up in the air. "Don't hold it against me, I was stressed. Now, please don't tell my brother, you know how he gets when he's angry." 

"You think I'll let you off easily?" He muttered, statement somewhat threatening. "I can arrest you for this, you know drugs are illegal, right?"

"But you won't," you tried to cut through the tension heaving the air, attempt falling short when it didn't crack a smile out of the latter. "You're not going to arrest me for that."

"Try me." He clicked his teeth, standing with his chest to your back. He hesitated to reach for your arm, fingers deliberately clutching around your wrist, forcing your forearm to the low of your back. 

Jun-ho repeated the action with your other hand, a breath knocking out of your chest when the sound of a click erupted through your ears, ringing as he locked the handcuffs in place, loose yet firm around your wrists. 

"Wait, you're being for real?" Your eyes widened with shock, an inaudible gasp escaping your throat when he led you towards the car, using the arm to your shoulder to push through the muddy road. "Get these off of me, this is not funny, Jun-ho!"

"Never said it was." He snorted, pinning you to the hood of the car, and fumbling through his pockets to seek the keys hidden in there. "You've been such a bad girl, need someone to do somethin' abour it." 

Your stomach churns with butterflies, somehow turned on by the statement. His tone, it was low, hushed, full of lust deep under all the lies he'd force through his teeth. 

Jun-ho is hot, you weren't one to deny that, however, your insides stirred with more than passing emotions that confuse you whole everytime he was around. Heat radiated off your entire body, the in between your legs specifically, and your knees went jelly, seizing control of your body once you leaned down, till your chest pressed to the hood of the car. 

The action earns a scowl out of the brunet, feigning oblivion to the way his cock twitched in his pants when his gaze landed on your lace panties, now peaking from underneath your skirt. The scene left little to the imagination, he wanted nothing more than to pull the thin fabric of your underwear to side, and pound into you till you no longer were able to coherent normal words out; only able to remember his name through your fuzzy, fucked out brains. 

"What are you doing?" He questioned, forcing his eyes back on your face, bent to the side as you tried to steal a glimpse at him from over your shoulder. 

"Obeying your orders," you mumbled, "I've been a bad girl, officer, need you to do something about it." 

You wiggled your ass around, till the material of your skirt rid up, revealing the plush flesh hidden underneath. The faint moonlight lightly beamed over the skin, creating a small shadow that would've gone unnoticed if Jun-ho's gaze wasn't burning into your soul. 

"Want me to do something about it?" He repeated through a breath, voice shaky, desperate like a loser getting his dick wet for the first time. "Fuck, you can't pull shit like this an' expect me to hold back." 

"Don't hold back." You whispered, lips gaping in a moan when his leg pressed to your heat, patience wearing thin as he resisted the urge to tear your panties apart. "You want this too, don't you?" 

"Quit talkin'," He grunted, hand instantly landing on your ass. He almost shuddered, squeezing the fatty skin in between his fingers, then using the pressure of the touch to spread your cheeks out, and fix his gaze on the thin fabric of your panties now drenched with your juices. "Fuck, look at you, such a wet mess for me. Is this turning you on, huh? You enjoy getting humiliated to filth?" 

You mewled at the words, almost yelping when his fingertips grazed over your clothed clit, instantly growing sensetive from the touch. Jun-ho was fully hard now, the fabric of his pants growing tight. 

The sight was out of the world, better than his deepest fantasies, and the pornos he jerked off to while imagining you instead. Your pussy was calling out his name, craving to be touched, by him and him only. 

Jun-ho did not hesitate to drop to his knees, hot breath fanning over the flesh, as he leisurely tugged your panties down, letting them fall once they were loose around your knees. His fingers then travelled to your sides, clutching the waistband of your skirt, and using the elastic to push it up until it's levelled with your waist. 

Goosebumps broke out across your body when his thumb found your slick folds, gliding it from your entrance to your clit, with the purpose of spreading your juices around. 

You were so wet, he could easily slide a finger inside, and that thought alone had no reason making him this hard, underwear wet with a patch of pre-cum.  

"You need to be taught a lesson." He mouthed, lips mere inches away from your cunt. "So desperate and needy for me." 

"Mhmm." You hummed out, eyes falling shut when he planted an open-mouthed kiss to the back of your thigh. "'That feel good."

"Yeah?" He hushed out, littering wet, sloppy kisses to your thighs, trailing a path up to the inner part connecting to your folds. His thumb relaxed over your sensitive nub, leaving you no time to process the gesture before positioning his mouth to your folds. 

Your body jerked with pleasure, hands grasping into nothing as they sat in place beneath the fabric of your skirt, the sensation of his tongue causing you to crumble, as he searched through your folds like a man starved. 

"Fuck!" You whined, arching your back to chase after the fraction of his tongue swirling down from your entrance, to your clit. 

"There you are, that's my good girl." He muffled against your soaked cunt, sucking and nibbling on your sensitive nub, too drunk on your pussy juices to comprehend his surroundings, nor the fact that you were still in public. "Such a pretty pussy, only for me to fuck and worship."

A thrill of excitement rushed through your insides, the idea of getting caught increasing your arousal. Jun-ho was no good guy, but he wasn't a bad person either. He did his utmost to follow the rules; however, he was willing to risk it all, lose his job just to have you trembling underneath him while he fucks your needy hole with his tongue. 

Jun-ho's tongue swirled through your folds, now mixed with your arousal and his spit. He leisurely began increasing the pace, slowly but surely, till it was no longer bearable, with your own climax building up. 

He licked a stripe of your entrance, tongue moving up and down, till his mouth landed on your clit. He pressed open-mouthed kisses to your nub, making you yelp everytime his teeth would graze over the sensitive flesh. The latter took your fuzzy state for granted, flicking his tongue against your clit, overstimulating you whole, and spiraling a rush of adrenaline through your veins. 

"Jun-ho!" You mewled out, blinking through hooded eyes. You were sure bruises formed around your wrists by now, the repetitive contact of skin creating an uncomfortable, yet pleasurable sensation. "I'm so– I'm so cl–"

Your statement was soon interrupted when Jun-ho suddenly halted, stepping back to steal a glance at your achy cunt, now coated with his spit, as some of it trickles down your legs with a purpose. 

"Don't." He warned, giving your ass a squeeze, using the force of the gesture to tumble himself up. "Don't you dare fuckin' come, you hear me? I'm not done with you." 

"Well then hurry up." You coaxed through a breath, chest pressing against the hood of the car, making you feel dirty. "What are you waiting for?"

"Relax, doll, don't you want me to take care of you?" Jun-ho questioned, tone teasing, full with cockiness. "Wanna feel your desperate pussy clenching around me, y'know how long I'been waiting for that?"

Jun-ho wasted no time, unbuckling his belt, and messily undoing the buttons to his pants. He barely managed to tug the material down, striving to get it off with one of his hands, all while still squeezing and kneading the fatty flesh of your ass. 

"So fuckin' pretty n' perfect, hell, I can't believe I finally have you to myself." He grunted as your ass perked up, chasing after the fraction of his fingers. "Mhm, such a bratty little slut, using me to get off, huh? You know we can't be doing this." 

"No one will know," you hushed out, teeth digging through your bottom lip. "Jus' please– do something."

That was the only assurance he needed. Jun-ho pulled down his underwear, freeing his throbbing cock from the tight material. He was rock-hard, it was starting to hurt, tip glistening with pre-cum that kept leaking out. 

He lined his dick with your entrance, the sensation earning an audible gasp out of you, though he only inserted the tip inside, going in leisurely. He stroked his cock up and down, your hole, until it was coated with a glossy, wet layer. 

"Fuck," he hissed, lips parting with a shuddered exhale, watching as your cunt clenched around nothing, practically begging to have him inside you. The sight consumed his brain, eating at him alive. He bunched his shirt in a fist, positioning one of his hands on your hip, the gesture a mere act of closure. "Such a needy slut, begging to be fucked." 

He gave you no time to process the statement, thrusting his cock inside in one go. It caught you off gaurd, yelping as he filled your insides, slowly pumping in and out your hole, just until you got used to how big he was. 

"So big..." you trailed off, spit salivating in your mouth. "Feel' s' good." 

"Yeah?" He spoke through an exhale, heat radiating off his entire figure. He continues pounding into you, spreading your cheeks out to get a better view of your pussy as it squelches around him. "You like that? Wanna be a good girl for me?"

"Mhm." You desperately nodded, letting your eyes force shut. "Please, please, please, Jun-ho pleaseeeee." 

"Keep moaning my name, baby." He muttered through gritted teeth, reaching for your waist from beneath your shirt. "Show me who you belong to." 

Both of you were too far gone to care about anything other than his cock as he buries himself inside you. His thrusts increased in pace, and you could not have felt any better, he was so good at what he does, you almost felt jealous of all the other girls he's done this with. 

Jun-ho's arms sneaked their way around your waist, applying enough pressure to pull you up, until your back pressed to his firm chest. The gesture gave the latter more access to your entrance, now able to insert himself deeper, thought it felt impossible. 

His hands kept busy throughout the entire time, fingers landing on your cleavage, before he tucked down the collar of your shirt, to reveal your chest, freeing out your tits to the chilly air. He rolled and pinched at your nipples, kneading it afterwards to soothe away any pain.

Jun-ho's cock pulsed in and out of you, loud breaths filling the air, the atmosphere heavy with desire. He knew exactly what to do, how to please you, how to make you forget the guilt washing over your chest. You couldn't believe it; your dirty fantasies finally coming true, though it didn't feel real whatsoever. 

"Such a whore, offering yourself to me in public?" He stifled out a snort, fisting your hair in between his large digits. "Want me to fuck you here so everyone could see how desperate you are? Hmm, I guess you're not such a good girl after all." 

Your climax approached within every passing second, his hard cock pounding into you doing things to you. It was out of this world, no words could describe the rush of pleasure you were experiencing in the moment. 

"You' close?" He asked, noticing how shaky your legs got under him. "Come for me, sweet girl." 

The following few seconds fixed on you, not long before you came undone, announcing your own orgasm once your legs trembled with pleasure, overstimulated by the fraction of his cock deep and raw inside you. 

"Mhm, there she is." He grunted in your ear, walking you through your high, and his own arousal. "Wanna finish inside you, and make a mess out of your tight pretty hole." 

"Please." You obliged, throwing your head back, with one of your hands landing over his; where it laid flat on your chest. 

His thrusts grew wet and sloppy, coming inside you once his cock kisses your cervix, painting your walls white with his cum. The warmness of his sperm filled up your hole, earning a ragged breath out of the latter, finishing with a hefty groan. 

He took a pause, a smile tugging at his lips when his gaze shifted to you. You scoffed at the cocky grin smothered all over his face, suddenly growing flustered, as heat flushed your face. 

"Why are you staring?" You asked, tiredly fluttering your eyes shut. 

"No reason," he dismissed, caressing the skin around your waist. "You jus' look pretty." 

"Shut up." You attempted to shove him off, action falling short when your attention trailed to your cuffed wrists. "Can you get these off of me?" 

"Hmm," he trailed off, bending down to level his face with yours. He planted a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth, whispering out his next words. 

"Only if you say please." 

It felt like a dream; a fever dream. And if this did truly happen, no one were to find out, especially your brother, that's for sure. 

[daily-airimomoi-vitamins]

[uagh, my head]

[...]

[my...head?]

[....mine...my....I...me]

[...]

[Your head hurts, it's pounding. You very slightly open your eyes and]

[oh]

[there's blood.]

[you're lying in a pool of blood. Some of it is on your head...drip drip dripping down your face.]

[some of it isn't yours]

[you're just barely able to lift yourself off the ground. It smells terrible. Like an awful concoction of flesh and sanitary alcohol. The ground...it's colder than before. This is not the same floor as the one you fell on.]

[you...recognize this place. It's in worse condition but...yes...yes you remember]

[I... remember]

[that girl. In the back. This is where you found her before-]

[oh god. The blood and her memory. You hated the implications.]

[that corner, where she sat. She seemed so lonely...The thought of her tired eyes and small composure...]

[...that corner, a machine. It's blade doused in blood. It hasn't been cleaned]

[....a meat grinder?]

[your eyes widened at the thought. You quickly covered your mouth and shook your head, trying to rid yourself of the disgusting thought...]

[..Finally, you arise. Your legs are shaky, your head and hair damp with blood and cold sweat. What the hell are you doing here? How did you get here..?]

[you recollect what happened....Did she hit you over the head, or did you pass out? Perhaps, your head hit the floor too hard. Whatever it was, it didn't matter now. Now, your priority was to get ou-]

You're awake.

[..the pharmacist. She looked so oddly bleak. So...empty]

Took you long enough..he..haha...

[ah, that smile. But it just wasn't the same. Her eyes were narrowed, her arms in her coat pocket. She continued to chuckle]

Haha...heha....you really...really couldn't let this go, huh?

"..."

"..What did you to her."

hmph...I thought I told you before. She's dead...you know, I hate repeating myself. It's so fucking annoying. I fucking hate it.

Yeah, sure, I've kinda enjoyed all this. But do you know how much of an annoying little brat you are..? For fucks sake, and to think...I wanted to help you.

"H-help..?"

"are you being serious right now?! Help?! Since when has what you're doing been help!?"

...hm. I don't think I want to answer that.

[She moved off the wall, and starting to circle around you. You felt trapped]

"No-No that's not how it works. You've ruined my li-"

What life?

[She turned her head to you, inching closer]

What sort of life have you lived? What life are you remembering, hm? You don't have a life, not anymore. You're life isn't yours. Both of us. We do not live, we don't have lives.

mm...haha...

[She turned to the machine, putting her finger inside and swiping the blood off of the blades. She put her thumb in her mouth, wiping her mouth]

This life, wasn't alive either.

[You felt physically sick. You were fighting the urge to throw up, right there and then. You're fists clenched]

[You had so many questions....]

[Your eyes drifted towards the machine, a shiver down your spine following along. You swiftly looked behind you towards the corner of the room, thinking of that girl]

[authorhjk1]

Can you do a headcannon for IVE (except L33se0) on how each of them would ask to be bred and how they would react once they do get their pussy filled with cum. Also I love your fics for SNSD, they are my ults and it's so hard to find fics for them here

Gaeul

You rest your head against the wall. Gaeul is trapped between you and the white, unforgiving surface. Her feet aren't touching the floor, your carrying her, or rather nailing her, against the wall.

"C-Can you please..."

Her words come to a hold, when you fuck her harder.

"Please cum inside?"

Her head sinks down onto your shoulder, but you hear her moaning, begging you to fill her.

Being already close anyway, it only takes you a couple of thrusts, before you finally fill Gaeul. She sighs into your neck, warmth spreading through her body.

"Thank you."

She gives you a weak kiss and as she pulls away, you can see how tired she already is.

Yujin

Yujin's face is buried in the sheets of her bed, so you can't make out what she says at first. But you decide to reach forward. Your hand rests on her head, your fingers reaching her forehead. You pull her up, so she can speak properly, while you keep pounding into her from behind.

"Please breed me, daddy! I deserve it!"

You let her head fall back onto the mattress, you've heared enough.

"I'm begging you."

She tilts her head to the side, so that she doesn't get muffled by the sheets again.

"I've been a good girl, haven't I?"

You both know the answer to that question, but it's not like you have a choice. Yujin's sloppy pussy is the only place you can cum in.

And that's what you're doing now. You push her even further into the mattress, almost lying on top of her, as you dump your load deep inside of her. Once your vision clears, you can see how Yujin opens and closes her fists as she tries to hold onto the sheets. You hear muffled moans, her body twitches once or twice and then she just lies there, catching her breath.

Rei

"Are you going to give me all of it?"

You hesitate, trying to hold on. You're not often this lucky. Usually you're the one who has to satisfy her. But Rei has made it today's mission to drain you completely. Which means she has been riding you for a while now. That cute face looking down on you, asking you to breed her... Who could say no?

"I've worked so hard for it. I deserve to be bred. Please? I'll do anything. And I-"

Rei's eyes roll to the back of her head as she feels you cuming inside of her. Her body freezes, a cute moan escapes her lips.

"Oh my god..."

Eventually, Rei places a hand on her stomach.

"Thank you."

Once again, that cute smile...

Wonyoung

It's always about punishment with Wonyoung. Acting bratty or bad is her way of telling you she wants it hard and rough. Which includes breeding her. At least most of the time.

"Are you really going to breed this naughty princess? I bet you can't even knock me up."

You're tempted to just bite her nose off. She is lying on her back, while you stand in front of the bed, pounding into her. You've leaned down so far by now, that you're almost face to face. You take a hold of her pigtails once more, slightly pulling at them.

"Breed me already, daddy. If I want something, I must get it."

You feel yourself getting closer. If she wasn't this tight... If she wasn't this warm around your cock... If her sweet face wasn't so close to you... Maybe you would be able to teach her a lesson.

But you can't. You're too deep inside of her. You don't even notice how her long, slender legs have wrapped themselves around your body, pulling you in closer.

"Breed your princess, daddy."

Your curse her and yourself as you finally do as she asks of you. Wonyoung moans and sighs in pleasure as she feels your seed filling her womb.

"Daddy..."

She smiles up at you as you slowly back away. You watch how she quickly places her hand over her freshly fucked pussy as you pull out. She manages to keep most of your cum inside.

Liz

This is very unusual for her. The fact that the two of you are in public. And that she is telling you where she wants it.

You're usually having sex in the privacy of your home. And Liz prefers it, when you choose for yourself where you want to cum.

But after her friend told her during dinner that she is having a baby soon, you're now doing your best to to breed Liz in the restaurant's restroom.

"Please... I want it too. C-Can you please cum inside me? As deep as possible? Please?"

She whines and begs and you can't do anything else but do as she asks. You catch her reaching for her panties, which are just loosely hanging around her thighs, when she feels you pulsating inside of her.

"Liz..."

You whisper her name as you cum inside, making her close her eyes, a satisfied smile on her lips.

When you eventually pull out, she quickly puts her panties back on. A moment later, a big wet spot appears on the blue fabric.

[bootsukki]

AITA for saying my 5-year anniversary is just another day, making my girlfriend mad?

aita series masterlist next part

wanings: angst, communication issues, swearing

The restaurant buzzed with the sound of clinking glasses and lighthearted conversation. Tsukishima sat at the end of the table, picking at his food, his usual expression set in a cool, indifferent mask. Across from him, his girlfriend, (Y/N), was laughing at something Yamaguchi had said. The group of friends had gathered for dinner, as they often did, the easy camaraderie between them keeping the atmosphere light. Yachi and (Y/N) were sat side by side, murmuring about something as they picked out pieces of their food.

“Hey, Tsukki,” Yamaguchi started, cutting into the relaxed mood. “You guys have been together for four years now, right? Any big plans for your five-year anniversary coming up?”

The question made (Y/N)’s heart flutter. They hadn’t talked much about their anniversary yet, but after being together for so long, she had imagined something special was in the works.  (Y/N) had been feeling kind of sad the past days, not seeing Tsukishima enough due to reasons he hadn’t explained to her but she still had the hope of it just being a busy time at the museum. Tsukishima had been training a new coworker, Mia, and although she didn’t like her that much, she kind of understood that there were a lot of protocols at the museum that had to be followed. 

She turned to look at Tsukishima expectantly, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Tsukishima, though, didn’t meet her gaze. Instead, he took a sip of water, leaned back in his chair, and shrugged. “It’s just another day,” he said flatly.

The smile vanished from (Y/N)’s face instantly. The words hit her harder than she had expected, like a punch to the gut. Her chest tightened, a thousand thoughts racing through her mind, none of them good. After everything they had been through, everything they had shared, was their five-year anniversary really just another day to him?

She glanced around the table, everyone else had fallen silent, awkwardness creeping in. Yamaguchi shifted uncomfortably, clearly not expecting that kind of response. The rest of their friends exchanged uneasy glances, unsure whether to laugh it off or change the subject.

Tsukishima wasn’t big on surprises and they always made plans for dinner but he hadn’t said a thing yet. (Y/N) had the silly dream of him proposing and she even told Yachi about it. Not only Yachi, but him as well which he answered with a smile.

(Y/N) swallowed hard, forcing a smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “Just another day, huh?” she muttered under her breath, unable to keep the bitterness out of her voice.

Tsukishima’s brow furrowed slightly as he looked at her, his eyes narrowing just a fraction. “What?” he asked, his voice sharper than usual.

(Y/N) clenched her fists under the table, anger starting to simmer in her chest. “You really don’t care, do you?” she said quietly, but there was an edge to her words that caught everyone’s attention.

“Care about what?” he asked, sounding genuinely confused but annoyed at the same time.

“Our anniversary! Us!” (Y/N) stood up abruptly, her chair scraping loudly against the floor. “Lately, it’s like you don’t even care anymore! You’ve been staying out late, barely texting me, and now this? ‘Just another day’? What the fuck, Kei?”

All of their friends stopped their conversations as they saw (Y/N) standing up.

Tsukishima’s expression hardened, his jaw tightening. “You’re being dramatic. I’ve just been busy.”

“Busy?” she repeated, her voice rising. “You’ve barely been home! You don’t talk to me, you don’t ask how I’m doing, and now you say our anniversary is just another day? What am I supposed to think?”

(Y/N) could feel everyone’s eyes on them, but she didn’t care. This had been building up for weeks, and now it was like a dam had broken. Her heart was pounding in her chest, her emotions swirling between anger and hurt.

Tsukishima sighed, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I don’t see why you’re making such a big deal out of this.”

“You don’t see why I’m making a big deal?” (Y/N) couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Tears of frustration were welling up in her eyes, but she blinked them back, not wanting to cry in front of everyone, completely embarrassed about the situation. “You don’t get it, do you? You’ve been so distant, and I don’t know what’s going on with you anymore.”

Tsukishima’s eyes flickered, but his face remained stoic. “You’re overthinking it.”

(Y/N) felt like she had been slapped. His words felt dismissive, like he didn’t care at all about her feelings, like her fears and concerns meant nothing. She grabbed her bag from the back of her chair, her hands trembling with anger and hurt as some tears finally made their way out, coating her cheeks.

“I’m done,” she said, her voice shaking. “Sorry guys.”

“(Y/N)? Where are you going?” Yachi asked her, worried as she looked at their friends, clearly not knowing what to do.

“I don’t know.”

With that, she turned and stormed out of the restaurant, leaving their friends sitting in stunned silence.

Yachi grabbed her bag and coat, sending Tsukishima a glare, saying something under her breath and following (Y/N).

After (Y/N) stormed out of the restaurant, Tsukishima sat there, his hands clenched tightly in his lap, the tension rolling off him in waves. He felt the eyes of his friends on him, but he didn’t dare look up. The heaviness in his chest, the kind he could usually ignore, was now impossible to shake. (Y/N) was not wrong about it, he had been spending nights at the museum, working overtime and taking paperwork home. He woke up during the night to go into his office at home and keep working, completely stressed. 

If she only knew…

Yamaguchi shifted uncomfortably beside him, glancing toward the door where (Y/N) had disappeared. “Tsukki…” he began softly, but Tsukishima cut him off with a sigh.

“I know,” Tsukishima muttered, rubbing his temple. He could already feel the irritation bubbling beneath his skin. It wasn’t like he didn’t care about (Y/N), but how was he supposed to handle all of this at once? Work had been relentless, and every spare moment he had, he was trying to plan their future. He’d never been great at expressing himself—something (Y/N) knew better than anyone—but it seemed like this time, he had really messed up.

The table had fallen into an awkward silence, none of the others quite knowing how to break the tension. Tsukishima didn’t stick around for long after that. He tossed some cash on the table, muttered a stiff goodbye, and headed home.

As he arrived home, he texted her, messages left on delivered. He hated going to sleep without fixing their problems.

Running a hand through his hair, he called her. He didn’t know what he was going to say to her. How was he suppose to tell her everything without spoiling everything he has worked and planned for? Would she even pick up?

"What?"

There was a brief silence on the other end, just the faint sound of Tsukishima breathing before he finally spoke.

"Where are you?" His voice was steady, calm—too calm.

"I’m at Yachi’s." Her words came out clipped, tension already thick between them. "I needed space."

There was another silence, and (Y/N) could practically feel the weight of it pressing down on her. She had expected him to ask more questions, maybe show some concern. But instead, he was quiet.

“You didn’t say anything,” Tsukishima finally said, his tone flat. “You just left.”

(Y/N)’s jaw clenched. She could already feel the frustration rising, boiling just beneath the surface. "You didn’t give me much reason to stay. You didn’t even try to stop me.” she shot back, her voice colder than she wanted it to be.

His sigh was audible over the phone, a soft exhale of frustration. "You’re overreacting."

The words hit her like a punch to the gut. Overreacting? Was that really what he thought? After everything they had been through the past year with moving and the stress of his new job and deadlines of her book, all the nights he came home late or didn’t come home at all, brushing off their anniversary like it meant nothing—she was overreacting?

"I’m overreacting?" she repeated, her voice rising. "Kei, you’ve been disappearing for days, barely talking to me, acting like I don’t even exist half the time. Do you know how that feels? Do you even care?"

"Of course I care about you," Tsukishima snapped, his calm demeanor slipping for the first time. "But you’re making a big deal out of nothing."

(Y/N) let out a bitter laugh, the sound harsh in the quiet room. "Nothing? So me feeling like I’m losing you is nothing? Our anniversary is nothing? Us is nothing to you, is that what you’re saying?"

Tsukishima didn’t respond immediately, and the silence that followed only made her anger flare hotter.

"I didn’t mean it like that," he muttered, but his voice lacked any real conviction. It sounded more like he was trying to calm her down, to brush aside her feelings.

"Then what did you mean, Kei? Because right now, it feels like you don’t care. It feels like you’ve already checked out of this relationship." (Y/N) stood, pacing across Yachi’s small living room, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew Yachi was probably listening to their conversation but she couldn’t care less about it. She sniffed. “You act like I’m supposed to just accept this. Like it’s normal for you to disappear and not talk to me. Like I’m supposed to just be fine with it. We've been together for almost 5 years, we should know by now how to communicate with each other."

"You’re not giving me a chance to explain," Tsukishima said, his voice dropping, more annoyed now.

"Then explain!" she shouted, her voice cracking with emotion. "Explain to me why you’re never home! Explain why you can’t even be bothered to talk to me when you are! Explain why our anniversary is just ‘another day’ to you, when it’s supposed to mean something! Explain why it feels like I don’t matter to you anymore!"

There was a long, suffocating silence.

"You don’t get it," Tsukishima said finally, his voice low and cold. "You don’t understand what’s going on, why I…”

"Because you won’t tell me!" (Y/N) felt the words rip from her throat, raw and desperate. "You won’t let me in, Kei! You won’t let me help, and then you act like I’m the one being unreasonable? I’ve tried. I've tried to gvet you to tell me what is going on, why you come home that late... I’ve tried to be patient, but I can’t do this alone."

"I never asked you to do anything alone," Tsukishima muttered, but his tone was distant, like he was speaking just to end the conversation.

"That’s the problem!" (Y/N) yelled, her frustration bubbling over. "You don’t ask. You don’t say anything. You just keep everything to yourself and expect me to be fine with it. But I’m not fine, Kei. I’m not fine with you shutting me out. We are a couple, we should be there for each other, in good and bad situations but you... You don't care about it."

Tsukishima sighed again, and this time it was heavier, like he was already tired of the conversation. "I don’t have time for this right now."

(Y/N) froze. The words cut deep, the final nail in the coffin. 

"You don’t have time for this?" she whispered, her voice trembling. "You don’t have time for us?"

"That’s not what I meant," he said quickly, but the damage was done.

"No," (Y/N) said, her voice steadier now, but full of cold, quiet anger. "I think that’s exactly what you meant. You don’t have time for this. For me. For us. I guess you have all the time in the world for Mia."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Don’t twist my words," Tsukishima said, irritation clear in his tone now.

"I’m not twisting anything. You’re the one who’s been distant, who’s been shutting me out. You’re the one who doesn’t have time for me, and I’m done pretending like that’s okay. You're the one always doing things at work, spending an absurd amount of time at the museum, spending nights at the office, door closed as if..." She bit her lip, her throat tightening with unshed tears, not daring to say what she was thinking about. About him possibly cheating with the perfect Mia, who had the same interests at him. Mia, who threw herself at him just to get his attention. Mia, who was perfect and could talk about everything Tsukishima loved... She wanted to throw up just by thinking about it. "I can’t keep waiting around for you to decide whether or not you want me in your life, Kei."

Another long silence.

(Y/N) felt her heart drop. She had wanted him to fight for them, to say something—anything—that would reassure her that this was just a rough patch, that they could work through it. But instead, all he gave her was more distance by saying nothing to her.

"Tsukishima, are you going to say something?”

For a moment, she thought he might say something more, but the line stayed silent. The weight of their words hung in the air, unspoken truths pulling them further apart.

"That's my answer then. I’ll come get my things tomorrow," (Y/N) said quietly, trying to keep her voice steady, though her heart was breaking. 

"What? (Y/N), don’t say things like that. Don’t even think about it." Tsukishima muttered, his voice cold and distant again.

“How can I not?” She was now sobbing, Tsukishima’s heart breaking at the sound of her hurting. “You are not willing to even tell me that you want me in your life.”

And just like that, the call ended, the silence on the other end of the line as heavy as the emptiness that now filled the space between them.

*****

“It’s 2 in the morning.”

“I know.”

“You know that I have a kid sleeping upstairs, right?”

“Yes.”

Akiteru tsukishima looked at his younger brother, making way for him to enter his house. Without notice, the younger sibling had made his way towards his brother’s house, not knowing what to do. Akiteru had already noticed the tension radiating from his younger brother and made him some tea.

“You look like hell,” Akiteru remarked, setting the cups on top of the coffee table.

Tsukishima shot him a glare, but it lacked its usual sharpness. “Thanks,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair.

Akiteru leaned back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest. “Wanna tell me what’s going on?”

Tsukishima didn’t respond right away, staring at the grain of the wooden table as though it held the answer to all of his problems. After a long moment, he finally spoke. “I messed up with (Y/N).”

Akiteru raised an eyebrow. “What kind of ‘messed up’ are we talking here?”

“The kind where she walked out and told me she would get her things from the apartment,” Tsukishima admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. He hated saying it out loud, but he couldn’t deny it any longer.

Akiteru’s expression softened, his usual teasing tone nowhere to be found. “What happened?”

Tsukishima explained everything—about the dinner, his cold response to the anniversary question, (Y/N) accusing him of not caring, and how he had been spending nights working late. 

When he finished, Akiteru let out a low whistle. “Sounds like you’ve been under a lot of pressure,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “But… Kei, you can’t just shut her out like that.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Tsukishima snapped, frustration leaking into his tone. He regretted it immediately, but Akiteru didn’t flinch.

“I know,” Akiteru said calmly. “But what did you think was going to happen? You don’t talk to her, you’re distant, and then you dismiss your anniversary in front of all your friends? Of course she’s going to feel like you don’t care.”

“Akiteru, I…” Tsukishima sighed. “I’ve been working late to get a few days off of work, so I can take her on a trip and propose.”

Tsukishima’s shoulders sagged. He had been so wrapped up in trying to plan the perfect proposal, trying to juggle work and life, that he hadn’t considered how it all felt to her.

“I’ve never been good at this stuff,” Tsukishima admitted quietly, his voice raw in a way that it rarely was. “I thought I could just… handle it.”

Akiteru smiled softly, “Propose? Are you serious?” The younger man nodded, placing his forehead on the table.

“I fucked up.”

“Kei, relationships aren’t something you just ‘handle.’ They’re messy, they take work, and sometimes you have to talk about the hard stuff, even if it sucks. But if anyone’s worth the effort, it’s (Y/N), right?”

Tsukishima’s heart clenched at that. (Y/N) was worth it. She was worth all of it—the frustration, the awkward conversations, the vulnerability. He had never cared about anyone the way he cared about her, and the thought of losing her because he had been too proud or too stubborn to open up made him feel sick.

“You need to talk to her,” Akiteru said firmly. “Skip the proposal part. Tell her everything. Tell her about the trip. I promise you everything will be alright.”

Tsukishima nodded, closing his eyes for a moment, sleep catching up to him.

*****

AITA for saying my 5-year anniversary is just another day, making my girlfriend mad?

Hey, Reddit. I (M23) have been dating my girlfriend (F23) for almost 5 years. Our anniversary is coming up soon, and it’s kind of a big deal since it’s our 5-year mark. I have been working overtime to get money and time for an surprise anniversary trip for us and I haven't been home that much and when I came home, I kept working during the night. My best friend (M23) and some others friends, including my girlfriend, were out for dinner, when he asked me about my anniversary plans. Without thinking too much, I shrugged and said, “It’s just another day.”

My girlfriend started to freak out to the point of leaving the restaurant and the apartment.

AITA?

User 1:

YTA!!!!!!! OF FUCKING COURSE she would freak out about something like that! Anniversaries are important and more so when they are about milestones such as this one. You need to fix this ASAP.

User 2:

Dude, I can't defend you on this one, YTA. That was a shit show. You could have told her that you weren't in the mood to celebrate or something but instead you said it in the worst way possible and in front of other people. That would probably broke her heart.

User 3:

YTA. you could have told her you had a surprise planned or something.

User 4:

Bro...

author's notes: this will have a 2nd part, out in a few days! :)

[soulofapatrick]

Breathing for the First Time - Rhysand x female reader

Summary: Rhysand finally admits your mating bond after a heated argument with Nesta

Warnings: None really

Words: 2.4K

Y/N's POV

“I don’t care what you think, Nesta!” I snarl, the words tearing from me with a venom that shocks even myself. My hands clench into fists at my sides, nails biting into my palms as the fury courses through me, a wildfire spreading through my veins.

Nesta stands across from me, her eyes blazing with cold fury, her chin lifted in that arrogant way she always does when she wants to get under my skin. And gods, it’s working.

“Of course, you don’t,” she bites back, her voice sharp, cutting. “Because you never think, do you? You act first and deal with the consequences later. It’s reckless. You’re reckless.”

I can feel the pressure building inside me, a low thrum in the air as my power ripples beneath my skin, begging to be released. The very walls of the House of Wind seem to vibrate with it, feeding off the energy that crackles between us. My heart is pounding in my chest, the blood roaring in my ears as every word she says fans the flames of my anger.

“Reckless?” I spit, taking a step toward her, my magic swirling around me now, the air thickening with it. “You think I’m reckless? You, of all people, who shuts out everyone who tries to get close to you? Who pushes and pushes until no one’s left? Maybe it’s not me who needs to rethink their choices.”

Nesta’s jaw tightens, and I can see the flicker of hurt behind her steel-like gaze, but she doesn’t back down. Of course, she doesn’t. She never does. “At least I think before I act. You’re a storm waiting to happen, and it’s only a matter of time before you destroy everything around you.”

The words hit harder than they should, slamming into my chest, but instead of backing down, the fury builds, rising like a tidal wave ready to crash. The floor beneath my feet seems to hum, the sheer force of my rage making the very air around us pulse.

“How dare you,” I snarl, my voice low, dangerous now. “You don’t know a damn thing about me, Nesta.”

“Oh, I know enough.” Her voice is sharp, like a blade cutting through the thick air between us. She steps closer, her face mere inches from mine now, her eyes daring me to do something. “I know that you’re not just a storm. You’re a disaster waiting to happen.”

My chest heaves with the effort to keep control, but I’m losing it—fast. My power flares around me, crackling with dark, untamed energy, and the room seems to pulse with it. The windows tremble, the floor beneath us groans as if it, too, is trying to hold together the volatile storm inside me. I can feel the magic bubbling just under the surface, wanting to tear free, to unleash the tempest that’s been building inside me for so long.

Before I can say anything else, the door opens, and a familiar presence fills the room. Rhysand.

His gaze sweeps over the scene before him, and for a moment, I swear I see amusement flash in his eyes as he takes in the tension radiating from me like a tangible force. His lips twitch, but he says nothing, simply leans against the doorframe, his violet eyes now solely focused on me.

“Perfect timing,” Nesta mutters, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she steps back, her eyes flicking between Rhysand and me. “Maybe you can talk some sense into her.”

But Rhys doesn’t seem interested in talking sense into anyone. His gaze never leaves mine, and there’s something in the way he’s looking at me now—something that makes the fire inside me burn hotter, but not with anger. There’s a dangerous kind of amusement in his eyes, like he finds my rage... enthralling. Like he’s waiting to see what I’ll do next.

Nesta huffs, clearly sensing that she’s lost whatever upper hand she thought she had. With a sharp, frustrated sigh, she turns on her heel and storms out, leaving me standing there, breathing hard, chest heaving with the effort to contain the swirling storm inside me.

But I don’t feel calm. Not even close.

Rhysand pushes away from the doorframe, his footsteps slow, measured, as he approaches me. His gaze is still locked on mine, his expression unreadable, but I can feel it—the shift in the air between us. The low hum of energy that vibrates in the space around us, electric and charged.

He stops just inches from me, close enough that I can feel the warmth of his body, smell the intoxicating scent of night-blooming jasmine that clings to him. He doesn’t say anything, just tilts his head slightly, those violet eyes roaming over my face like he’s trying to commit every detail to memory.

“What?” I snap, though my voice falters slightly, my anger waning under the weight of his gaze. The fire inside me still burns, but it’s shifting now, turning into something else entirely. Something I’m not sure I’m ready for.

Rhysand’s lips curl into the faintest of smiles, but there’s no mockery in it. If anything, it’s... gentle. “You’re fascinating when you’re angry,” he murmurs, his voice low, almost a purr.

I blink, taken aback by his words, but before I can respond, his hands come up to cup my face, his touch feather-light, yet it sends a jolt of electricity through my entire body. My breath hitches, my heart racing, and suddenly, everything around us seems to fade—the room, the argument, the entire world. All that exists is him.

And in that moment, something inside me snaps.

Rhysand’s fingers brush over my lips, light as a feather, and the world seems to still around us. The air is thick with tension, crackling with a different kind of energy now, no longer fuelled by the anger I had moments ago. It’s something new, something electric, thrumming between us like a tether I can’t escape. His thumb traces my lower lip, slow and deliberate, and my breath hitches as my gaze locks on his—those violet eyes, deep and endless, like the night sky.

Everything inside me shifts. The rage that had once pulsed through my veins now melts away, leaving only this. Only him.

Rhysand's eyes darken with something deeper, something raw and unspoken, and then, just as his thumb slides over my lips again, I feel it—a shift in my mind, in the very fabric of my being. His mental walls, the iron fortress he’s always kept up, fall. He lets me in. And it’s not gentle.

His thoughts, his emotions, his very essence floods into me all at once, and I stagger under the weight of it. His love, fierce and unwavering, surges through me like a wave crashing against the shore. I can feel it all—his longing, his desire, the way he’s been holding back for so long. The way he's seen me, wanted me, needed me, for longer than I could have ever imagined.

And then I see it.

I see myself through his eyes.

To him, I am not just a woman, not just someone standing before him with fire and rage in my veins. To Rhysand, I am everything. I see myself, bathed in starlight, fierce and beautiful, with power thrumming just beneath my skin. I see the way he watches me, not just now, but in every stolen glance, in every moment we’ve shared without me even realising it.

I am not just a person in his world. I am his world.

“You have no idea,” his voice whispers through the bond, soft and reverent, and his fingers trace along the curve of my jaw. How long I’ve waited for you.

It’s like I’ve hung the stars above Velaris, like every moment he’s spent in the dark has led him to this—to me. And I feel it now, the snap, the bond, settling into place. Not just in my mind, but in my very soul. The realisation of what we are to each other crashes into me with such clarity, it leaves me breathless. Mate.

His hands slide down, slow and sure, mapping every inch of me. As if this is the only time he’ll get to memorize every curve of my body, every dip and slope. His touch is gentle, reverent, yet filled with something that feels like desperation, like he can’t let go, like he’s afraid this moment will slip away if he moves too fast.

Through the bond, I feel it all—his awe, his desire, his absolute certainty. And underneath it, something more—something sacred, as if I am the one thing in this world he cannot live without. His hands rest on my hips now, firm but tender, pulling me closer, and I feel the heat of his body, the pull of him, like gravity itself has shifted around us. I can feel his love, strong and unyielding, wrapping around me like a cocoon, like I’m something precious—something he’s waited lifetimes for.

He looks at me again, his violet eyes burning into mine, and I swear, in that moment, I see galaxies. His thumbs trace slow, lazy circles on my skin, and it’s as if he’s trying to etch this moment into his memory forever. As if every breath I take, every movement, every tremble, is something sacred to him.

“I could spend eternity,” he whispers, his voice a low murmur, soft and reverent, “and it still wouldn’t be enough to know you.”

His forehead rests against mine, and for a moment, we just stand there, breathing each other in. I can feel the bond between us now, pulsing bright and fierce, a thread of power connecting us, binding us. There’s no going back. This is it—this is everything.

Rhysand's lips hover just above mine, the space between us charged with the weight of everything unsaid. The bond hums in the air like a current, and when he finally closes the distance, it’s like the world shifts—everything in me snaps awake. His lips claim mine, firm yet tender, and it feels like a shock to my system, like I’m breathing for the first time. A slow, burning fire unfurls in my chest, spreading through every inch of me, and I can’t help the way I press closer, needing more, needing all of him.

The kiss deepens, and my head spins, my heart racing with the force of everything pouring through me. His lips are soft, but there’s an intensity to the way he kisses me—a hunger, a desperation, like he’s been waiting for this moment as long as I have. His hands cup my face, his fingers threading through my hair, holding me as though I’m something precious, fragile, yet powerful all at once.

And gods, I feel it.

The world narrows down to the feel of his mouth on mine, the way his lips move with mine, slow but purposeful, like he’s savouring every second, every taste. My heart thunders in my chest, and I gasp into his kiss, my breath mixing with his. It feels like my body is burning from the inside out, a fire I’ve never known before, and my shields—the ones I’ve always kept so tightly wrapped around my mind—begin to crumble.

For him, I let them fall.

I lower them, piece by piece, until there’s nothing left but him. His presence floods me, his emotions wrapping around my own in a way that leaves me breathless. It’s overwhelming—the intensity of his desire, the way he’s craved this, craved me, for so long. I can feel the depth of his love, his awe, the way he’s trying to pour every bit of himself into this kiss, into me.

And I give him the same.

The kiss is everything and more. It’s a claiming, a promise, a silent admission of all the things we’ve held back. Every touch of his lips against mine sends sparks racing through my veins, igniting parts of me I didn’t even know were there. His hands slide down, skimming the sides of my face, trailing over my neck, down my shoulders, until they settle on my hips, pulling me closer. The heat of his body seeps into mine, and I shudder at the way his fingers press into me, holding me like he’s afraid I might slip away.

But I won’t. I can’t. Not when everything in me screams for him.

His mouth moves against mine with more urgency now, more need, and my heart pounds in response. I feel weightless, like I could fly, like the bond between us is lifting me higher than I’ve ever been. Every part of him feels like it’s consuming me, and it’s not terrifying—it’s exhilarating. I melt into the kiss, my hands sliding up to grip the back of his neck, tangling in his hair, pulling him even closer.

This kiss, this moment, it feels like the world has finally clicked into place. Like I was always meant to be here, with him, like we’ve been moving toward this our entire lives. My body hums with energy, the bond between us thrumming with power, and I feel alive in a way I never have before.

Rhys kisses me like I’m the centre of his universe, like I’ve hung the stars in the sky, and the way he touches me… gods, the way he touches me makes me feel like I’m everything. His fingers trace the curve of my jaw, gentle but deliberate, and it’s like he’s trying to memorize every part of me, every curve, every breath. His touch is reverent, yet laced with longing, and it’s as though he’s holding me like I’m the one thing he can’t bear to lose.

And as the kiss deepens, as his lips move with mine in a perfect, intoxicating rhythm, I feel something click inside me—a realisation, a truth I can no longer deny.

This is more than just desire. It’s more than just a kiss.

It’s the bond. It’s us.

And for the first time in my life, I know exactly where I belong.

ACOTAR Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 12th Oct 2024

Tags:

@lilah-asteria

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

Would I be able to request Navia, Clorinde, Natasha and Himeko bathing with their S/O whilst S/O is just getting increasingly flustered (NSFT or fluff idk) (also maybe Stelle but I feel like the only reason she'd take a bath would be for NSFT reasons unless forced too)

(Genshin Impact/H:SR) Sharing a bath with their S/O

Genshin Impact - Navia, Clorinde, Dehya, Furina, Arlecchino, Chiori Honkai: Star Rail - Natasha, Himeko, Firefly, Stelle

Mild NSF-W Implications below the cut!

Because you don't take a bath with your clothes on. At least, I hope that you don't, dear reader.

As Navia is relaxing into the bath, she notices that her S/O is actively avoiding meeting her gaze.

And truth be told, she wasn't immune entirely herself as her face started to heat up as well, and not from the hot water.

But that being said, Navia didn't mind. She thought it was cute more than anything that S/O was getting flustered.

(Navia) "S/O? You alright?"

(S/O) "J-Just fine, thanks!"

With a soft chuckle, Navia shifted over to them with the water rippling as she did so, sitting directly next to them.

(Navia) "You know I don't mind, right?"

Her heart began to pound as she took S/O's hand into her own and out of the water.

(Navia) "I'm here right now because I want to be, S/O."

That finally got them to stare lovingly into her eyes, with Navia returning the gesture before she couldn't resist the urge to not kiss them any longer.

Clorinde is enjoying the silence, but at the same time it was admittedly a bit awkward.

Both her and S/O were doing their best to remain respectful and not stare too long at each other in the bath.

Yet, she would catch them stealing the occasional glance as they noticed her doing the same.

At the very least, she appreciated that S/O attempting to keep some form of modicum, but at the same time, it was a bit redundant to do so considering they decided to bathe together.

Especially since they were lovers.

(Clorinde) "Would...it be easier for us to simply look where we please?"

(S/O) "...O-Only if you don't mind, Clorinde."

Realizing just how needlessly the two of them were beating around the bush, they let out a small laugh together.

(Clorinde) "I only request that you don't stare too long. You have my word I will do the same."

Dehya is no stranger to sharing baths, so it didn't really bother her too much to do the same with S/O.

Though the idea of doing so with her lover gave enough pause for at least a second upon first consideration.

S/O on the other hand looked like they were on the verge of exploding, which tempted her to tease them for it.

(Dehya) "Jeez, you look like you're going to pop a vein."

(S/O) "D-Do I?"

Letting out a hearty laugh, she gives a pat to their naked back, which makes them yelp out.

(Dehya) "I'm joking! You can loosen up a little, y'know. It's just me to see you like this."

(S/O) "That's exactly why I'm panicking!...Uh, I mean-"

Dehya ruffled their hair, letting droplets of water go onto the floor, not that she particularly cared.

(Dehya) "S/O, it's fine. I promise I don't care. Well, too much anyway."

Part of her wants to do this again solely just to see what kind of reactions S/O would make, but she figured she tortured them enough for one night.

Furina is extremely quiet as both her and S/O shared the bath, the silence and tension hanging in the air to the point it could be cut with a knife.

Her fingers slightly fidgeted with each other under the water, doing her best to not stare at S/O.

Which both Furina and S/O failed to do.

Balling her fists up, she decided to take the first step! Scooting inch by inch over to S/O, who noticed her working up the courage to get closer.

In which they bumped into each other, before staring wide eyed at each other in silence.

Instead of saying anything, Furina embraced S/O in a tight hug, a deep exhale leaving her body and finally relaxing.

(Furina) "Can we...stay like this for a while?"

(S/O) "Hah...anything for you, Furina."

The feeling was completely alien to her, being able to feel someone so intimately, but she didn't hate it. The farthest thing from it, in fact.

Furina loved this.

Arlecchino decided to go along with S/O's request to share a bath, partly just to see what would happen.

She never did anything so intimate with another person before, but it wasn't the worst thing in the world.

Meanwhile, S/O already looked so nervous asking Arlecchino to come along, now they actually had her with them.

And honestly? They didn't think they would get this far.

Arlecchino leaned against the tub with her eyes closed, knowing fully well S/O was peeking glances every now and then, something that amused her.

(Arlecchino) "S/O."

Her calling their name caused S/O to freeze up in mild terror, making Arlecchino let out a breath of amusement.

(Arlecchino) "You needn't be so nervous. Had I wanted to strike you down for looking, I would not have accepted your request."

(S/O) "I know it's...I want to be respectful you know?"

Arlecchino hummed in response, whether that was acknowledgement or indifference, S/O didn't know.

A few moments later, S/O worked up the courage to hold her hand, a gesture she returned by simply squeezing theirs and saying nothing.

(Arlecchino) "...With all that being said, we do not speak of this to the children, understand?"

(S/O) "Y-Yes, ma'am!"

Chiori rolls her eyes at the blush on her S/O's face.

First of all, it's not like this was the first time they've seen her without clothes on.

Secondly, it was their idea to take a bath together and-

Her thought process was interrupted as Chiori felt the muscles in her legs loosen up.

(Chiori) "Ugh, today was killer. Thanks for warming up the bath for us at least, S/O."

(S/O) "Y-Yeah, no problem, Chiori."

(Chiori) "And no need to be so jittery. Yes, we're both naked, it's nothing that should get you that nervous."

(S/O) "I feel like you'd kill me for staring."

(Chiori) "In public, yeah. But if it's just us, then who cares? I stare at you all the time, y'know."

Turning Chiori head to them, she gives S/O a small smirk, playfully tapping their nose with her finger.

(Chiori) "Besides, nothing I haven't seen before. I am the one who takes your measurements."

(S/O) "I guess that's fair..."

Natasha is a little embarrassed herself to be sharing such an intimate space, but it quickly washes (HA) away after a few moments.

She smiles at S/O trying to look away, but feels their entire body stiffen in response as she hugs them.

(Natasha) "Aw, what's the matter? Getting shy?"

(S/O) "N-Nat!"

S/O's voice whined, making her tighten her embrace.

(Natasha) "Don't worry too much, S/O. Otherwise I'll have to do an impromptu physical right now-"

Not being able to hold back her laughter anymore, she caresses their cheek as soon as Natasha sees them pouting.

(Natasha) "Joking aside, you're allowed to look. It's a privilege only you get after all."

Himeko's beautiful laugh fills the bathroom air as her hand grazes their shoulder, feeling them jerk upwards in surprise.

(Himeko) "Sorry! Didn't mean to scare you. You just look so tense."

(S/O) "Hah well...The most beautiful woman is next to me, how could I not?"

(Himeko) "You could at least say that when you've actually looked at me once, S/O. It's not a crime to look."

She moves closer to them, kissing their cheek and watching their face turn into an even brighter shade of red.

Not that she wasn't a little nervous herself, but she figured they could at least see that, instead of having to tell them herself.

(Himkeo) "Please?"

With a sigh, S/O turns to Himeko, staring at her smile for what seemed like a small eternity.

Before Himeko closed the gap again to kiss them on the lips, S/O not saying anything in protest this time as her hands brought them closer.

Firefly's face was burning a bright shade of red, at least at first.

She had never done so with a lover, and things were awkward with S/O not knowing what to say either as they sat in the water.

But Firefly couldn't resist staring, and just affectionately eyed them up and down before speaking up.

(Firefly) "Is...it okay if I can move closer, S/O?"

(S/O) "O-Of course."

Her shoulders slumped downwards, taking their hesitance for rejection before S/O quickly cleared up the misunderstanding.

(S/O) "Ah! Wait, I want to be close with you! I'm...J-Just a little nervous too, is all."

Instead of a smile or even a demure look like S/O was expecting, Firefly instead pouted.

(Firefly) "T-Then why did you invite me to a bath if you were nervous too?"

...And to be fair, that was a good question.

But they both knew the answer to that already.

S/O made the move first against their rapidly beating heart to hug Firefly close, the action making her freeze up.

Before Firefly quickly relaxed and returned the embrace, her admittedly adorable pout melting into an even cuter smile.

Stelle sat in the waters with S/O, expecting to chat away or even get a little more...spicy in their interactions.

Instead, S/O was looking at the walls, everywhere except for her.

To show her disapproval, Stelle playfully splashed water at them, which got S/O to momentarily forget themselves.

(S/O) "H-Hey!"

(Stelle) "Hands slipped."

S/O smirked and splashed water back, making Stelle's stoic expression break with a smile of her own.

(S/O) "Take that, ya little punk!"

The tense atmosphere was quickly replaced by a more lighthearted one, with the two splashing water at each other before Stelle closed the gap between them, almost kabedoning them in the tub.

Which got S/O to quickly become silent again.

(Stelle) "So why'd you invite me in here if you were gonna get so embarrassed?"

(S/O) "I just wanted to spend time with you but I didn't think it'd be so...well, awkward at first."

Stelle smiled and rolled her eyes before sitting down next to them, getting S/O to relax.

...To which she promptly splashed water onto their face again.

(Stelle) "Whoops."

[librababe99]

Echoes of Her

A/N: Nothing like a little angst to start everyones day! As always comments and feedback are appreciated--My asks are open as well! I hope everyone enjoys - Libra * .♡ *:･ﾟ✧ ⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆ Summary: Caught in a painful love triangle with Logan and Jean Grey, the reader confronts Logan about their unspoken connection... Warnings: Angst, Hurt without comfort, love triangle  Word Count: 1146 

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · ·

The silence in the mansion's corridors was thick, the kind that presses against your chest, making it hard to breathe. Every step you took echoed off the cold, marble floors as you made your way to the training room. It was late—too late for anyone else to be awake—but you knew he'd be there. He always was when the weight of the world became too much to bear.

You paused outside the door, your hand hovering just above the handle. A part of you didn't want to go in. You already knew what you'd find—Logan, shirtless and sweating, his muscles rippling as he pushed himself far beyond what was necessary. He didn't need to train, not really. You both knew that. It was his way of escaping the thoughts that clawed at him, the memories that refused to stay buried.

And you knew why he was there tonight.

Jean.

The name alone sent a sharp pang through your heart. You weren't naive. You saw the way Logan looked at her, the way his eyes softened, his gruff demeanor shifting whenever she was around. He was a man of few words, but his actions spoke louder than any confession ever could. He loved her—he loved her in a way that was primal, consuming. But Jean… Jean was with Scott.

You weren't sure where you fit into all of this. You and Logan had a connection, something raw and unspoken. But it was hard to define what that was when his heart was so clearly caught between two worlds—between you and the woman he could never truly have.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed the door open. The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from the small lamp in the corner. Logan was there, just as you knew he'd be. His back was to you, the muscles of his shoulders and arms flexing as he pounded his fists into the punching bag.

"Logan," you called softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

He didn't stop, didn't even acknowledge you. His focus was singular, every punch carrying the weight of his frustrations. You walked closer, each step feeling like a mile, until you were standing just a few feet behind him.

"Logan, please," you tried again, your voice trembling.

This time, he paused, his hands dropping to his sides. Slowly, he turned to face you, and your heart clenched at the sight of his face—those deep-set eyes, filled with pain and something else you couldn't quite place.

"Why are you here, kid?" he asked, his voice rough and tired.

You winced at the nickname, one he'd given you long ago when you'd first joined the X-Men. Back then, it had been endearing, a sign of the bond you were building. But now… now it felt like a reminder of the distance between you.

"I could ask you the same thing," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

Logan huffed, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. "Needed to clear my head."

You nodded, though you both knew it was more than that. "I thought maybe… maybe you needed someone to talk to."

He looked at you then, really looked at you, and for a moment, you saw the walls he'd built up around himself start to crumble. But just as quickly, they were back in place, his expression hardening.

"There's nothing to talk about," he said gruffly.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. "Logan… you don't have to pretend with me. I know you're hurting."

His jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck tightening as he looked away. "And what do you want me to say, huh? That you're right? That I can't get her outta my head? That every time I see her with him, it feels like a goddamn knife in my chest?"

Your breath caught in your throat, the raw honesty in his words cutting through you like a blade. But it wasn't just his pain that hurt—it was the realization that you were a part of it. That maybe, just maybe, you were only a distraction, something to keep him from drowning in his feelings for Jean.

"I don't want to be your second choice," you whispered, the words escaping before you could stop them.

Logan's eyes snapped back to you, surprise flickering in their depths. "You're not—"

"Aren't I?" you interrupted, your voice trembling. "Because that's what it feels like. Every time you're with me, it's like you're trying to forget about her. But I can't—Logan, I can't be that person for you. I can't keep pretending that this doesn't hurt."

He took a step closer, his hand reaching out to touch your arm, but you pulled away, the distance between you growing. The look of hurt that flashed across his face was almost enough to make you reconsider, but you held your ground.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You shook your head, tears welling in your eyes. "I know you are. But sorry doesn't change anything, does it?"

Logan's shoulders slumped, the weight of your words crashing down on him. "I never meant to hurt you."

"But you did," you replied, your voice breaking. "And I don't know if I can keep doing this. I can't keep being in love with you when you're in love with her."

The silence that followed was deafening, the air between you thick with unspoken words. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the battle he was fighting within himself. But you knew—deep down, you knew—he wasn't going to choose you. Not really.

"I don't want to lose you," he finally said, his voice raw with emotion.

You took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to steady yourself. "You already have."

The words hung in the air, a finality to them that neither of you could ignore. And as you turned to leave, you felt a part of your heart break, knowing that this was the end of whatever it was you and Logan had.

You walked out of the room, each step heavier than the last, the distance between you and Logan growing with every second. You didn't look back—you couldn't. Because if you did, you knew you'd crumble. You knew you'd run back to him, and you couldn't allow yourself to do that.

As you reached the end of the hallway, you paused, your hand resting on the wall for support. The tears you'd been holding back finally spilled over, and you let them fall, each one a release of the pain you'd been carrying for so long.

But even through the tears, you knew one thing: you deserved more than being second best. And as much as it hurt to walk away from Logan, you knew it was the only way to heal.

The only way to find yourself again.

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Part two

[talesof-old]

hi!! I'd love a James Potter x female! reader smut where reader finds James masturbating to a naked picture of her and then she rides him really, really hard to the point where he has the most AMAZING orgasm, tysm i hope you can write it!!

ahh i hope i did this justice!! this was supposed to be less than 1k words buuut… 🤭

a little longer | j.p.

pairing(s): james potter x fem!reader

warning(s): 18+, smut, piv, sub!james, riding, masturbation, masturbating to a photo of a friend, friends to lovers?, not proofread or edited

word count: 1.4k

masterlist

James’ bedroom door seemed to taunt you with each passing second.

You gnawed on the inside of your cheek. What would he say if you went in there? You’d sent an owl. He normally responded promptly, so you’d rationalized going to his house by telling yourself he could be hurt. His parents, after surviving a nasty bout of Dragonpox during his seventh year, had decided to spend more time traveling like when they were younger. Which meant James was home alone often. Sometimes he went with them, but with work, he had to stay in England the majority of the time.

You squared your shoulders and knocked on the door.

Unfortunately for the both of you, James’ door wasn’t actually closed. No, it had been cracked just the tiniest amount, which meant that as soon as your fist made contact with the wood, it swung open.

Your jaw dropped.

Sprawled out on his bed, fist wrapped around his red and throbbing cock, was James Potter. His head laid tilted back amongst his pillows, brow furrowed as he stroked up and down. Your lungs constricted. What the fuck were you supposed to do now?

James held something in his free hand, something small, that he brought up to his face and moaned. Your blood went hot, burning through your veins as you watched him struggle to orgasm. He bucked his hips, precum coating his trembling fingers. You sucked in a harsh breath. It was then that you decided to turn and leave, but the sound of the floor creaking had James looking over. And shooting upright.

“Merlin! What-“

James threw the sheets over his waist with his sticky hand. You grimaced. He’d caught you, what were you supposed to say? Sorry, but I do in fact want to keep watching. Please carry on! He looked stricken. Eyes wide and blinking furiously behind his glasses, you didn’t miss the tremble of his voice or the way he gripped the sheets.

“What are you doing?” Your mouth went dry as you struggled to form words.

“I just…” You averted your gaze, choosing instead to stare up at the ceiling and question everything that had led to this moment. “You didn’t respond to my owl?”

You winced as it came out more question than answer.

James huffed, running his clean hand over his wild hair. You pressed your lips together in a tight line.

“Do you… want help?” The words were out before you could stop them. The silence that followed threatened to deafen you. Everything seemed muffled by the sound of your heartbeat in your ears. James cleared his throat. “You want to?” You shrugged.

“I mean, why not? It’s just, we’re already so close it wouldn’t be weird, right?” Your nervous laughter didn’t match your words. James’ matching laugh was just as anxious. “Yeah, sure.”

You nodded slowly, bringing your gaze back to his. His lips twitched into a sheepish smile. Your heart started pounding all over again, your face burning with heat. He motioned you over and you followed, catching a glimpse of the photo he’d had in his hand. “Oh my god, is that me?” James shot forward before you could get a quick look, shoving the picture into his bedside table and slamming the drawer closed. “No, no, of course not.”

His ashen face and panicked eyes betrayed him.

“You were wanking off to a photo of me?” He rubbed the back of his neck, expression sheepish. You laughed. You’d both been tiptoeing around each other for ages, and this could be what finally gives you the courage to make him yours.

“You could’ve just asked me to come by.” James’ lips parted. “What?”

You moved the sheets aside, climbing onto the bed and straddling him. He just stared. You smiled, steeling your nerves, and grabbed his hands to place onto your body. His fingers pressed into your soft skin, unsure as you lowered yourself to grind on his bare lap. His nails dug crescents into your thighs. You placed your hands on his shoulders, leaning forward so your noses were almost touching. “Is this alright?”

He was almost frantic with his nodding, staring you dead in the eyes as you waited for him to move. He closed the gap, lips pressed hard against you. James deepened the kiss, moaning into your mouth like a virgin. “Is this real?”

You broke the kiss and giggled. “Do I feel real?” You slipped your hands between you and grabbed a hold of his dick. He gasped, nodding as his cock throbbed in your grip. He hissed when you swiped a finger over his slit. You pushed your underwear to the side and slowly eased him inside your cunt.

His head fell to your chest. Unintelligible murmuring reached your ears, James’ lips dragging across your skin. You let out a soft moan when he bottomed out inside of you. James nipped at the skin of your collarbone. “You feel so good f’me.”

James’ chest stuttered when you began to move, hips rolling. He fell back against the pillows once again. You places your palms on his chest, leaning into him as you rode him.

“Shit-“ James’ hips bucked up into you. You choked on a moan, practically mewling as he hit some spot deep inside of you. You clenched hard around him. James moaned; the sound was high pitched and breathy, more a whine than anything else. You smiled, finding a rhythm that was sure to have your legs unusable afterwards. James gripped your hips, fingers leaving behind marks. He thrusted up into you in time with your own gyrations. He was close, that much you could tell. His balls were drawn tight as they smacked against your body, and every movement had his cock throbbing inside of you. You squeezed your cunt around him.

James attempted to muffle his moan by turning his head into the pillow—it didn’t work. You laughed, leaning down and arching your back. The change in position left you breathless, eyes rolling back.

“Mhm-“ You focused in on his face.

“You feel better than I imagined you would.” James’ voice sounded strained as it reached your ears. You latched onto his left nipple, sucking hard on the skin before trailing down the planes of his abdomen. James moaned and writhed beneath you, babbling, hips faltering in their thrusts. You picked up your pace to compensate.

“I’m gonna-fuck I’m gonna cum-“ You slipped your hand between the two of you, fingers circling over your clit. A familiar knot tightened in your abdomen, your inner walls fluttering around James. The feeling sent him over the edge. Spurts of hot cum filled your cunt as you milked him through his orgasm, dragging your nails down his stomach. His back arched as you continued to roll your hips. Your clit ached as you switched to figure eights, frantic as you drew closer to the edge.

“It’s too much,” James thrusted up into you as he spoke. “I can’t-I can’t-“ You shushed him, urging him to sit up so you could kiss him. He complied, still whimpering as you pressed your lips against his. His glasses pressed harshly against your cheeks. His dick was still hard inside of you, enough that you knew you could bring him to climax again. You doubted it would take much.

“I know, Jamie, I know. M’gonna take good care of you, m’kay?” Your voice seemed disembodied, steady in a way that didn’t reflect the way you felt. You mewled as the knot inside of you pulled impossibly tight before snapping, sending you hurling off the edge. Your legs shook as your thrusting grew frenetic. James made some inhuman sound as his body threw him into another orgasm. You clenched down on him, tight enough that you could barely move, bodies pressed tight together.

You came down slowly, panting like a dog, limbs trembling. James looked broken in your arms: his eyes were so glassy that if you didn’t know any better you would’ve thought he’d either been crying or was drunk. You cooed at him, scratching the back of his head. He moaned weakly. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.” You wrapped your arms around him, resting his face in the crook of your neck while your bodies shook. He did the same, arms snaking around your waist to ground him. You hummed.

“We should probably clean up.” Amusement laced your words as James huffed, tightening his grip on you instead. “Or we could just stay here instead.” You laughed, wincing as your cunt twitched from sensitivity. Fluids dripped down your thighs. You cringed, though James didn’t seem to mind. “Just let me hold you a little longer,” he murmured against your skin.

You couldn’t argue with that.

+++

[inlovewithpandora]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ — Summers In Pandora ᝰ Day Three - Angry Sex

Artists — Lo’ak x fem!Omatikaya!reader

Lyrics — Tension has been filled within your household and while an argument unfolds and frustration arise, somehow along the way it all dissolves and turns into something sexual.

Music Advisory — nsfw content (18+), porn w/ plot, aged!up Lo’ak, mates (married couple), p in v, fingering, nipple/breast play, multiple positions, implied aftercare, slight angst (but not really) ᝰ this fic does contain aged!up character smut so if you don’t like that type of content please don’t interact and continue scrolling!!

Duration — 2.1k words

Index — skxawng - moron

Words from Artist — I know it’s been a long time since I posted so I’m happy to be releasing this! This fic was so fun for me to write, especially since it was inspired from a scene in my favorite Netflix series, Queen Charolette: A Bridgerton Story! As always feel free to comment and reblog, I love reading y’all reactions! I hope you enjoy!!

Current Platforms — event m.list・main m.list・event taglist ・prompt list

You’re currently sitting across the table from Lo’ak, eating the dinner you prepared for the two of you, feeling annoyed just by his presence. There has been tension in your household between you and your mate for the past week, both of you have been arguing about various topics, no matter how big or small the issue is, it became an argument. You both have been barely speaking to each other, only communicating when necessary or when an argument sparks. While you’re eating the food that’s on your plate, chewing with bottled up anger, you watch Lo’ak sip his drink out of his wooden cup while trying his best to ignore you.

“Will you please no longer breathe so loudly?” You state in annoyance, fidgeting in your seat, wanting this shared dinner to be over quickly so you don’t have to be in close proximity with him.

“And will you please not talk?” He rebuttals, placing his arm on the table and running his hand over his forehead, taking a deep breath and trying not to allow himself to get irritated.

“Oh, I will talk if I wish to talk.” You scoff with an attitude while putting your food down, anticipating what he’s about to say next so you can already have a smart remark in mind.

“What’s your problem, y/n? You’ve been acting like this all week and I’m sick—”

You interrupt him mid sentence, standing abruptly from your seat and palming your hands against the table, causing the items that are placed on the table to cling together. “You’ve been breathing in my rooms, sucking the life out of everything!”

The Sully boy quickly matches your energy, pushing his seat back and allowing it to scrape across the floor, before pounding his fists down on the table. When you see Lo’ak walking around the table towards you your head slightly moves back in confusion while your heart slightly flutters within your chest with each step closer he gets. He stands directly in front of you, slightly towering over you while his eyes flicker between your eyes and lips, not knowing where to focus his attention.

Your ears slightly flatten when you realize how close his body is to yours, if you look close enough you can see a few beads of sweat forming on the back of your neck from the nerves you’re feeling. His eyes finally rest on your lips and he brings his pointer finger to your chin, lifting your head a few inches and bringing your lips together but not enough for them to touch. “Should I leave?” He whispers, wanting to know if you truly want his presence or not.

“Yes, leave now.” You reply stubbornly with the same hushed tone as him, not wanting him to think you would just welcome his attention at the drop of a dime. Both of you look each other up and down before you take the first move and step back from him, making him throw his hand up in defeat before stepping away from where you are. While you watch him walk away from where you are you instantly regret telling him to leave so before you let him get too far you reach out and grab his wrist to stop him, just for him to snatch away from your hold, irritation written all over his face.

Even though he acts as if he’s annoyed the moment his eyes meet yours he reaches for you, placing his hand on the back of your neck to pull you in for a kiss and you reciprocate by placing your hands on each side of his face and kiss him back. That first kiss you both share awakens something within both of you, before you share another Lo’ak pulls away. “It’s been a while hasn’t it?” He refers to the fact it’s been a while since both of you were intimate, with all the arguments and tension between you two neither of you even thought about initiating or even having sex.

“It has, we should change that.” You say to him before bringing his lips back to yours, wanting to feel his touch again. The kiss is electric, it sends a few waves of electricity down your spine, feeling like your body is tingling all over. Lo’ak loves your lips but he wants— no needs more. He quickly spins you around, wrapping his hand around your waist and making you face the table and your backside to face him. He begins to kiss your neck, a moan or two slipping out while you throw your head back onto his shoulder.

Lo’ak grasps your hand and slams it on the table, leaning you forward before he starts hiking up your woven skirt so he can get access to what he wants the most right now. While he’s ruffling up the material to your hips you hurriedly take your hand and push everything off the table onto the floor, causing items to meet the ground with a loud crash. He turns you around and lifts you on the table, pushing the thin material that covers your pussy to the side before his fingers spread your glistening folds, gathering your arousal to lubricate your clit, circling the pads of his fingers on your bundle of nerves, making you throw your head back in pleasure. “Oh, Lo’ak!” You whine, your back arching as two of his fingers slip into your tight hole. You reach out to grab something, needing to hold onto something to balance out the pressure you’re feeling but you only knock over the vase that’s sitting in the center of your table, causing another loud bang.

“Wanna see you, take this off.” He tugs at your bra top that’s clinging to your breasts, your hardened nipples poking through the thin fabric they're being covered with. You quickly start doing as he asked, pulling the strings that are tied behind your back, allowing the top to fall instantly and free your breasts from their restraints. Lo’ak cups one of your breasts, running his thumb over your nipple a few times before attaching his lips to it, running his wet tongue over the sensitive area, eliciting more sweet moans from you that make his chest swell with pride.

“Lo’ give it to me already, please.” His fingers aren’t enough anymore, you want to feel him in you, it’s been so long since he’s filled you with his cock you can hardly remember what it feels like plunging inside you anymore so currently you're more desperate for him than you ever have. Since he’s not moving with efficiency you take matters into your own hands and untie his loincloth, pulling the strings that hold the material together until it falls onto the floor and reveals his cock, springing upward while pre-cum leaks from its tip.

Lo’ak knows how impatient you can be, it’s one of the many reasons both of you have been arguing but today he’s actually enjoying this quality, especially when it means he gets to feel the warmth of your delicious pussy around him. “Naughty girl.” He chastises with a smirk on his face as pulls his fingers out of your hole that are covered in your slick and wraps his hand around his cock and gives it a few strokes, using your arousal as lubricant. “Just couldn’t wait huh? You just love doing whatever you want.” He grabs your waist with his free hand and holds the base of his cock with the other, lining himself up with you before pushing his way into you without any warning, not giving any time to brace yourself and adjust to his size. “Since you want it so bad, take it.”

“Fuck, Lo’ak!” You hiss with a moan not too far behind when you feel his tip touching you deep within your core, hitting directly against the part that can make your coil snap in seconds. His cock is thrusting in and out of you without any hesitation to stop anytime soon, just watching how he deliciously fills you, seeing the creamy ring that’s forming around the base of him makes you that much more horny and takes you further to your peak.

“You’re about to come aren’t you baby?” He asks rhetorically while his hand glides from your hips and works its way up to your breast, squeezing it gently before twirling your nipple between his fingers. He can feel your cunt pulsating around him, he knows that you're close and he wants to make your orgasm ripple through you, he only wants to make you feel good, it’s his way of apologizing for everything that’s been going on the past week.

Without pulling out Lo’ak gently picks you up, carrying your beautiful body over to the wooden chair he was sitting in earlier and sitting down with you in his lap, forcing you to now straddle him. This new position gives him the perfect leverage to reach the depths of your insides, forcing you to cry out in pleasure as his hands are so tightly wrapped around your waist you know you’ll have his prints marked on your skin for the next few days. Tears begin to fill your eyes and slowly flow over your waterline and stream down your cheeks. “Lo, I’m gonna come!” You warn him, even though he already knows how your body works. His cock pounds against your sweet spot a few times before the pressure that’s been building up within your stomach finally releases.

Your mate throws his head back and lets out a loud grunt when he feels your sweet pussy tighten around him, feeling himself about to explode inside you. “Fuck, make a mess on this dick.” He says in a breathy tone while grabbing a handful of your soft flesh and sending a smack to your ass, enjoying the way your body molds to him as you continue to ride him at the perfect pace. It only takes a couple more filthy thrusts and Lo’ak’s hands to wander your warm body before you’re creaming all over his precious cock, legs spasming and body trembling on top of his while the peak of your orgasm washes over you. A few moments after your sweet release Lo’ak is cumming right behind you, lewd sounds slide through his parted lips and he spills his load into your cunt, lines of his cum covering every inch of your velvet like walls.

Once Lo’ak is sure his seed has reached the depths of your womb he loosens his grip on your skin and begins to softly massage the areas of your body that have become slightly reddened by his tight grip. You wrap your arms around his neck and lay your head on his shoulder while gently pressing your breast against his chest, trying to gather yourself after the venereal act you just committed with your awfully attractive husband. It feels nice being close with Lo’ak again, not only in a sexual way but also in a physical sense, being able to just lay lovingly in his arms without a care in the world. You missed this dynamic between you two, you missed him even though your words over the past week have been saying the opposite. “I’m sorry, Lo’ak. I didn’t mean for things to get so out of hand.”

“m’sorry too baby. If I wasn't being such a skxawng we could’ve been back on good terms.” Lo’ak further expresses his feelings of being apologetic by pressing his lips against your neck, not enough to cause a reddened mark but just enough to elicit a moan from you. It was clear both of you still had a little energy and horniness bottled up inside so you and him went another round before going to the small river a few feet away from home to clean yourselves. After both of you felt clean instead of just leaving, the two of you decided to stay for a while and gaze at the pretty night sky above you, allowing the moon to shine against your skin.

For the rest of the night you and Lo’ak emotionally reconnect, getting your relationship back to where it was before. It seems like all you two needed was a good fuck to get things back on track.

Fanbase — @eme1hyst @o-kingston @erenjaegerwifee @Kaydoux @biaaaaaaaa1 @hikotaru @thisaintredwine @lexieeeeeeeei @that-gurl25 @simpingforbelphegor @Peanut713521 @anemonelovesfiction @jakesullyfatjuicypeen @makaylalovessmut @lustforlana4 @Anita @neteyamyawne @myh3artttt @savagemickey03 @shit-i-say-shit-i-think @headsincloud9 @buble787635 @normspellmann @em-x0 @sliqeramx @lexasaurs634 @deadgirlrin @lina @merlinbtch @morisim @btsiguess-kpop @sussybaka10 @galactict3a @shima @laylasbunbunny @rae @bigdikzaddy @3xclusive-kylani @Bubbles787@Bubble787635@Perfectwitchdinosuar@casualmilkshakecupcake @ninaa @greatsstuffposts

— all rights reserved © INLOVEWITHPANDORA 2024. all fanfics belong to me, do not copy, translate, repost nor recommend on tiktok any of the works seen here.

[flor4de4amor]

hockey!abby with the reader being her biggest fan prompt 🫣🫣

click for palestine | boycott tlou!!! | read b4 engaging w me

ok i changed the prompt up a little bit again, but i promisseeeee it's the last time!!!! (it's probably not but shh!!)

you’re almost at every single one of abby’s games. it’s always easy for her to spot you. you’re sectioned off in the front, in one of her old hoodies. at any free moment she has on the ice, abby skates by your section, blowing a kiss, that you eagerly pretend to catch. 

but the key word is almost. this is one of the few games you’ve missed since you and abby have been going steady. even when she used to play college hockey, and you had a silly little crush on her, you’d do your best to show up at the games. hiding somewhere in the back row of watchers, but still keeping an eye out for your favorite player. 

your absence was definitely noted this game. abby had been missing shots, which was quite unusual for her. her teammates teasing her, asking if she needed her good luck charm. to which her answer is yes. a resounding, bolded, large, all caps, yes. 

who was she gonna blow kisses to? who was gonna come rub her back in the locker room after the game? williams better not try it. abby’ll bite her head off, and you’ll never hear the last of it. abby can’t remember the last time she’s played without you watching. you’re her favorite trophy to show off. all pretty, with a wide smile, and gorgeous for her to brandish for anyone who’ll listen. 

the game is rough, for a lack of better words. the team loses,by a lot. too much for abby’s liking. she drives home, her fist pounding her steering wheel. occasionally at a red light while releasing anger onto the battered wheel, she hits the horn. stirring her from the storm of anger, and causing a cluster of horns following hers. the cars are speaking for their agitated drivers. abby sighs as she pulls into your shared driveway. the last thing she wants to hear you say is that you watched the game.

she sees your blurred frame on the couch through the window film of the front door. she sees you jolt up as her keys jingle through the hole, unlocking the door. you sit up drowsily, your nose agitated as you’ve been blowing it through the better half of the week. flu season had captured you as it’s latest victim.

“i saw the game baby,” you say with a raspy throat and nasally voice. abby sighs, and allows her head to hang to the floor. she should’ve known better paying for the extra hulu subscription. of course you’d use it. she’s mentally kicking herself. “you played really good baby,” you tell her sitting half up wrapped up in your favorite blanket.

she snorts, “sure,” she replies sarcastically.

“i’d kiss you better but i’m so sick right now, lovie.” you blow her a ton of kisses with your hands, though your dominant limb clutches an array of crumpled tissues.

she catches them, pulling them to her heart. “you miss one game and you’re stealing all my moves?” she raises her eyebrow at you.

you toss your hand at her dismissively. “i’m allowed,” you say with a playful closed lip smile. 

“one kiss won’t hurt me,” abby rolls her eyes. pressing a soft one on your forehead, and another to the corner of your mouth. “i’ve built up my immune system,” she tells you offhandedly. “ate dirt when i was a kid,” she laughs to herself. bullshit, but, whatever. “so you saw the game?” she fiddles with her thumbs, and avoids eye contact for a minute. when talking about her sport, this was when you’d catch abby at some of her most vulnerable.

“uhuh,” you tell her after catching a sneeze into the corner of your forearm. “‘scuse me,” you mumble.

“you’re ‘scused pretty,” abby replies while waiting for a further in depth answer than ‘uhuh.’

“you did such a good job baby,” you smile at her tiredly. “you shouldn’t beat yourself up too much. you really can’t win them all.”

“that’s insulting,” she smiles at you. “i definitely can. i just need my good luck charm.”

“i don’t do not a thing. it’s all you on the ice abs. don’t give me too much credit,” you say before having a slew of coughs.

“hey,” abby says putting a stern mask in her voice, “don’t pick on my favorite groupie now,” she burst out into laughter.

“i won’t make a habit of it, if you can make me some hot tea. my throat’s killing me.” abby nods her head, kissing your forehead once more and setting the kettle up. who was she to even deny her biggest fan, same one who stayed up late watching her girl’s game on her deathbed? abby’s mean, but not a monster. 

[s-4pphics]

WHERES ALL THE ANGST!!!!!

i needed something injected into my veins rq yayyy i wrote this in like 5 mins so it’s ass no context I GOT THE LAST LINE FFROM A PROMPT LIST BUT I LOST IT I NEED TO FIND IT BUT I NEEDED TO CRRYYY SOMEONE MAKE ME CRY PLEASEPELASS

vi being a piece of shit and projecting onto her sneaky link bc she misses yet resents cait I MISS EMO VI SO BAD …. OHHH MY SHAYYLAAAA

—

“C-Can you kiss me slower?”

“… What?”

“I asked if you could kiss me slower.”

“I heard what you said. Why’d you say it.”

Your eyes remain shut for your own protection. You fucked up the second you opened your mouth for anything other than the acceptance of her tongue. Your fists ache from how hard they clench on her back. Vi sighs before dropping her hands from your cheeks and rising completely from the bed. Only when you hear her rummaging through her liquor boxes do you open your eyes.

The arrangement she set up for the both of you had very simple instructions. You walk her home from the rink whenever she’s too fucked up to function on her own, and she eats you out in repayment, but you don’t speak about anything. No goals, no aspirations, no past hook-ups, no trauma, no nothing. You just guide her home, get your brains fucked out, then leave while she cries into her pillow. You never have the courage to ask what breaks her every night. When you first met, you attempted to keep the conversation light and goofy with every intention of cheering up a seemingly struggling individual. You would’ve never approached her if you knew this would be the outcome.

Vi’s especially cruel when she’s intoxicated.

You don’t know much about her, but on a good day, she’s caring and protective. You’ve only ever seen blips of that gentle side whenever somebody at the bar or rink tries drunkenly touching you in places they shouldn’t, but your heart never forgot even though she has.

“I hate when you do shit like that.”

She speaks with such calm conviction. Your face burns in embarrassment while your heart pounds in anxiety. You hate when she calls you out on your sensitivity. You’re not sure what’s happened over the past month. Maybe distance really does make the heart grow fonder. To say you missed Vi was, secretly, an understatement. Her warmth comforted you in a way your blanket never could.

“Sorry.” You say meekly, already reaching for your pants off the floor.

“Are you actually? It’s your second time doin’ it.” Liquid sloshes and you know she’s drinking from the source.

“I said I’m sorry. The fuck do you want from me?”

She scoffs with a bandaged fist clenched around her bottle’s neck, “I made it clear the second I met you, didn’t I?”

A distraction. A temporary fix. A midnight companion until she got her shit together. You know you’ve fucking heard all of it.

“I hear you, okay? My fucking bad—“

“What the fuck did you think was gonna come from this? I’m actually curious!”

You scramble to redress with a lump in your throat, trying your hardest to dismiss the beration she throws at you.

“You know what’s crazy about people like you? After everything we go through down here, you’re still so fucking trusting. Couldn’t sense danger if it was starin’ you right in the face, huh?”

Where the fuck did you put your bag? “Do you have to be such a fucking asshol—“ Your sob chokes when you drop to your knees and snatch your satchel from underneath her bed. Despite how small her space is, the door feels miles away.

“Don't you get it? I’m not a fucking fanasty, I’m not gonna save you, we’re not gonna be together—“

“FUCK YOU!”

“Yeah, fuck you, too. Maybe you shouldn’t have put your trust in someone else so much—“

You slam the door before she can spill anything else.

[p0orbaby]

I’d Rather Go Blind Than Let You Down

summary: the baby is here, that should calm leah down, right? right?

warnings: hospital setting

a/n: someone asked for some more panicky leah so here it is. first part here but you don’t need to read it if you don’t want to

word count: 1.3k

-

It’s a boy. A boy. Your boy. You can hardly wrap your head around it, the reality of him. He’s only been in the world for forty minutes, and already it feels like he’s upended every law of physics. Six pounds and change, but impossibly heavy in the way he roots you to the earth, demanding you stay present, stay still, stay here. His hair is a downy mess of dark brown fluff, sticking up in little uneven tufts that remind you of how Leah’s fringe used to look after her under-12s matches: matted and wild, all effort and energy. His hands—God, his hands—are the size of fifty-pence pieces, delicate and wrinkled, each finger curled tightly into its own little fist. He’s perfect. Absolutely, inexplicably perfect. And you’re completely terrified.

The hospital room smells like cheap soap and distant disinfectant, undercut by the faint, sticky sweetness of some long-spilled juice no one bothered to properly clean. It’s a symphony of beige: beige walls, beige curtains, beige linoleum. Even the bed looks beige, although it’s probably just worn white, like an old t-shirt washed too many times. Somewhere in the hallway, someone’s shoes squeak with rhythmic persistence, and you vaguely wonder if they’re pacing, as you had earlier, wearing an accidental track into the polished floor.

Leah is sitting in the uncomfortable armchair by the bed, which is upholstered in that scratchy material designed to withstand decades of spills and bad decisions. Her elbows rest on her knees, her fingers steepled against her lips in a half-prayer, half-facepalm, as if she’s mid-negotiation with some higher power. She hasn’t spoken much since the baby was born. Not because she doesn’t want to, you think, but because the enormity of it all has rendered her mute. She looks pale, unsteady, as if someone has shaken her up like a bottle of fizzy water and forgotten to twist the cap back on properly.

The baby makes a soft, snuffling noise against your chest, pulling her attention like a magnet. Her gaze darts to him and then flicks away just as quickly, as if looking directly at him for too long might somehow blind her. She hasn’t held him yet. She hasn’t even really touched him, save for one trembling fingertip brushed against his impossibly tiny foot when the midwife first handed him to you. It wasn’t avoidance, not exactly. More like reverence. Or fear. Maybe both.

You’re exhausted in a way that doesn’t feel real, like your body’s moving on autopilot while your brain drifts somewhere between sleep and shock. Your limbs are heavy, molten, but there’s also an odd lightness to you, a weightless, dizzying awe at what you’ve just done. You gave birth. You. You. Somehow, you survived it—hours of pain, pushing, panting, the raw animalistic chaos of it—and now you’re here, holding this impossibly small, impossibly fragile life in your arms. You’re not sure how you’re even still upright, let alone conscious.

“Do you want to hold him?” you ask, your voice soft, careful, as if you’re coaxing a wild animal out of the brush.

Leah’s head snaps up, her eyes wide and glassy, like a deer caught in headlights. “Hold him?” she echoes, her voice shaky and high-pitched. “Me?

“Yes, you. Who else?”

She blinks, her hands flexing and unflexing against her knees like they’re warming up for a solo on Britain’s Got Talent. “I… I don’t know if that’s a good idea”

“Leah, he’s your son”

“I know,” she says quickly, her voice climbing into that higher, defensive register that comes out when she’s trying to convince herself more than you. “I know he’s my son. But he’s just so… small. And… fragile. What if I—”

“You’re not going to drop him”

“I might!” she says, alarmed by her own hypothetical. “I might drop him. Or…or hold him wrong. What if I hold him wrong and, like, dislocate something? Babies are delicate! Like…like soufflés”

You blink at her. “Did you just compare our child to a soufflé?”

She shrugs helplessly. “I don’t know! I’m just saying, I’m not exactly… maternal, am I? I’m not one of those people who looks at a baby and just… knows what to do. I’m more of a… ‘panic and Google it’ kind of person”

“That’s fine,” you say, adjusting the baby slightly in your arms as he makes a soft, snuffling noise. “Most parents are ‘panic and Google it’ people. It’s basically the default”

Leah doesn’t look convinced. She’s rubbing her hands together now, the way she does before a big match, but this isn’t a match. There’s no referee, no whistle, no rules, no second leg if she screws this up. Her gaze darts back to the baby, then to you, then back to the baby, like she’s trying to memorise the mechanics of holding him without actually doing it.

“What if I’m terrible at this?” she blurts out suddenly, the words spilling out of her in a rush. “What if I’m a terrible mum and he grows up hating me and we end up one of those families where no one talks and we all just sit around at Christmas in complete silence, eating dry turkey and resenting each other?”

You stare at her. “That’s… a very specific fear”

She shrugs, her leg bouncing up and down anxiously. “I’ve seen it happen”

“Leah, you’re not going to be a terrible mum”

“How do you know?”

“Because I know you. And you love him. That’s pretty much the most important part”

She frowns, her brow furrowed like she’s still not quite buying it. “Love’s not enough. Love doesn’t teach you how to… to… change nappies or… or know what all the different cries mean”

“Love doesn’t teach you that,” you agree, “but practice does. And you’ll get there. We both will”

Leah’s eyes flick back to the baby, who has now fallen into a soft, twitchy sleep against your chest. Her expression softens slightly, but the fear is still there, a tightness around her mouth, a tension in her shoulders.

“What if he doesn’t like me?” she asks quietly.

You laugh, soft and disbelieving. “He’s a newborn, Leah. His likes and dislikes are limited to ‘milk’ and ‘not-milk.’ He’s not going to sit there judging your personality”

She doesn’t laugh. If anything, she looks even more stricken, like she’s just realised she might have to win over this tiny person who doesn’t even have fully developed motor skills yet.

You sigh, reaching out to take her hand. “Leah, listen to me. You’re not going to drop him. You’re not going to dislocate anything. And you’re definitely not going to ruin Christmas twenty years from now. You’re going to be great. I promise”

She hesitates, her fingers curling slightly around yours. “What if I mess up?”

“You will,” you say simply. “We both will. That’s part of it. But messing up doesn’t mean failing. It just means you’re trying”

For a moment, she just looks at you, her eyes searching yours for something—reassurance, absolution, a manual for parenthood that doesn’t exist. Then, slowly, she nods. It’s not a confident nod, not by any stretch, but it’s a start.

“Okay,” she says quietly. “I’ll try.”

You smile, holding out the baby toward her. “Then take him”

She hesitates for one last second before leaning forward, her hands trembling slightly as she takes the baby from you. She holds him like he’s made of glass, her arms stiff and awkward, but she’s holding him. She’s doing it.

And then the baby lets out a tiny, contented sigh, and Leah freezes, staring down at him like she’s just witnessed a miracle.

“He…he’s so… little,” she whispers, her voice filled with something like awe. “And warm. Why’s he so warm?”

“Because he’s a baby, not a lizard”

Leah lets out a soft, breathless laugh, her eyes never leaving the baby’s face. For the first time all night, she looks calm. Not completely, but enough. Enough to believe, maybe just for a moment, that she can do this.

That you can do this. Together.