#Prompt request

[wispmotherr]

if you want something nasty to read tomorrow, let me know and i’ll uh…. crank it out tonight.

Okay fanfic writers, your mission, should you chose to accept it, is a filthy 100 word drabble, for any pairing, to be posted on Thursday, in time for American Thanksgiving.

Ready, set, write!

[cosmophoriia]

੭ — levels of intimacy.

ღ request from: @generousvintagevictorianeagle — hi!! can you please write some dialogue prompts about a relationship/ intimacy within partners/ and caring for each other type beat… fluff and maybe a little angst and smut… much appreciated!!

ღ warnings : some angst + smut mentioned!

"when’s the last time you ate something?"

“let me run you a nice soothing bath.”

“you look so beautiful, baby.” “babe, i just woke up.” “you’re always beautiful even if you just woke up.”

“let’s cuddle on the couch and watch your favorite movie.”

“i got you a present, i hope you like it.”

“why didn’t you just tell me you needed a break?”

“i’m sorry about what happened, i’m here if you ever need to talk about it.”

“hey… hey… why are you crying?”

“are you okay?”

“this is a great opportunity for you, i thought you would be happy but why do you look so sad?”

“you know you can tell me anything right?”

“can’t sleep.” “i tried absolute everything but nothing.” pulling you even closer as they say “you haven’t tried everything, i think i can get you to fall asleep”

“wanna take this to the bed?”

“we can take things slow if you want?”

“fuck… you’re so good.”

“please… go harder.”

“you look so pretty as you squirm under me.”

“let me clean you up.”

“such a good girl f’me.”

“is this okay?” character a ask before going any further and character b simply nods their head. “use your words baby.”

[maybankswhore]

WANNA BE YOURS ’ JJ MAYBANK.

summary: jj’s been avoiding you after your break up with john b , but not for the reason you think.

request from prompt list: “i can’t stay away from you.”

When you think back to your relationship with John B , you aren’t sure when it stopped being meaningful.

Of course the relationship had its moments. The ones that you could look back on and smile , cherish the memory. But it was different. Because you didn’t look back on those memories and feel sad. You didn’t cry that they were fleeting. You didn’t miss it.

It was more of a grateful feeling. A feeling of fulfillment and enjoyment. But not sad.

In the end , the both of you felt it. That connection wasn’t there. The relationship wasn’t growing. You weren’t falling in love with eachother , more so , falling into a friendship that the both of you were scared to let go.

He had become your person and vice versa. The comfort the both of you had gotten from eachother , how honest and vunerable the two of you were able to be was something special.

But the relationship ran its course and John B admitted that he had started developing feelings for Sarah Cameron.

You weren’t mad at him or upset. He cried , feeling ashamed and scared of what it meant: you held his hand , brushed his face and encouraged him to explore it.

Breaking the news to your friends were the hardest part. Pope and Kiara were all knowing , especially Pope who you had confided in once before. They were supportive , and promised that nothing would change in the Pogue’s dynamic.

JJ on the other hand , he looked like a deer in headlights. He fidgeted alot , kept glancing up at you to study your face. JJ could tell that you didn’t look upset and he wasn’t sure what that meant. He wanted to yell at John B , push him and curse him for taking something as beautiful as you for granted.

But he couldn’t.

In fact , he couldn’t even face you.

JJ had always been taken with you. Since the moment he met you on the beach , everything about you just left him speechless. He though you were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen and he remembered how he gushed to Pope about you , ranting and raving about the girl he met.

Imagine his surprise when you showed up at the Chateau two days later next to John B— grinning up at him with stars in your eyes. He was deflated. Hurt. But he couldn’t blame anyone but himself for not making a move that night.

For two years he watched you and John B be together. And in those two years he had gotten to know you. All of you. That didn’t help. He thought the feelings he had for you would disappear. Girl after girl came into his life until he realized , he looked for you in every girl he met.

Although it was hard for him and it hurt him to slowly fall in love with you while you were seemingly falling in love for his bestfriend , it was easier for him to accept the fact you were off limits because you were taken by said bestfriend. Now that you were single , free and John B was running off with the Kook Princess , JJ wasn’t confident that he could just. . . not make a move , not confess everything he had pent up all these years.

But God , did he love you.

JJ had made it a point to avoid you. Any time he saw you at the Wreck , he ducked and hoped you hadn’t seen him. When you were invited to the Chateau or to the marsh , JJ always found some excuse to give so he wouldn’t be there. So he wouldn’t have to see you.

It was killing him on the inside. He was itching to see you again. To finally touch you , feel you , be yours. But he was afraid. Afraid of rejection , how it would to his friends , how John B would feel especially.

It was too messy and he couldn’t do it.

He couldn’t.

Eventually you had noticed JJ’s sudden change in behavior.

“Is it just me or does he like , suddenly hate me?” You mentioned to Kiara while the two of you sunbathed , JJ affectively avoiding you by staying in the water.

Kiara scoffed. “I wouldn’t say hate.”

You were confused by what she meant.

But days turned into weeks , and you couldn’t take it anymore. You missed him. It made you feel like he blamed you for the break up with John B or he resented you for whatever reason.

Your knuckles rapped on the door to his room where you knew he was staying in John B’s hallway. The other Pogue’s went surfing and told you JJ wasn’t coming because he was sick.

You finally had enough.

“JJ freaking Maybank! I know you’re in there so open up the damn door.” You yelled through the wood loudly , a fixated look on your face.

Nobody answered and you continued knocking on the door. “JJ! What the hell is your problem with me?” Your voice was just as loud. But after minutes of silence , you stopped knocking. Suddenly you felt all of your anger disappear. You felt small , and for some reason your chest began to hurt.

“JJ. . .” the anger was all gone , now your voice was soft and sad. Cracking at the end of his name. “Why won’t you talk to me?”

As if JJ’s own heart broke at the sound of your voice , he sighed heavily and got up from his place on the bed. The door flung open and in front of you stood a disheveled JJ. His hair was a mess , there were bags under his eyes and you could tell he had been crying. “I can’t stay away from you—”

“Really? Because it seems like that’s all you’ve been doing these past couple weeks is staying away from me.”

“I can’t stay away from you but I have to.” JJ finished his sentence. Scratching the back of his neck , he refused to meet your eyes. “I just need some time.”

You blinked confused. Your heart squeezing. “Are you mad at me? What did I do? Is this about John B?”

JJ groaned. “This isn’t about John B! Nothing about this is about John B right now.”

He snapped at you and it took you aback. Your eyes widened , not expecting that from him. It made you frown and you took a step closer to him. “JJ please. . . tell me what’s going on.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I just— because I can’t.”

“You can’t or you won’t?”

“I love you.” JJ blurted. Now he was fully looking at you. “Okay? I love you. Not in the friend way. Not in a Pogue way. The in love with you way—” JJ suddenly felt the world lift off of his shoulders. It all started coming out like word vomit and he couldn’t stop it , but he didn’t want to either. “I love the way your hair gets all knotted up in the saltwater and it takes you hours to comb it out. I love that you wake up every morning and eat the same exact breakfast and makes sure everyone else in the house eats before they leave. I love that you love the animals and you care about nature. I even like you stupid little romance books that I pretend I hate hearing about when secretly I wish we were in our own love story. . .” he took a deep breath.

“I’ve loved you since the moment I met you , sweetheart and I’m trying to make it go away but it’s not.”

You were stunned. It all hit you at once and you stared. Mouth agape , eyes wide , and your cheeks flushed pink. It was the sweetest confession you had ever gotten , and the way JJ looked at you like you were the only girl in the world only added to the butterflies now swarming in your stomach.

“Why did you—” you stuttered , trying to figure out the words to say. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Would it have changed anything?” JJ said defeated.

“It would have changed everything.” You admitted.

You weren’t sure what was going to happen now or how to navigate the news. Though you did know that something changed. It would forever be changed.

And you were okay with that.

[pucked-bunnie]

shameless flirt ⎜ a.matthews

pairings: auston matthews x reader prompts: "you can rest your head on me, I don't mind" + "I dont want to be alone." genre: fluff ⎜angst ⎜friends to lovers⎜ warnings: injured players ⎜auston is a little espresso depresso ⎜just auston being in love the whole time ⎜had to make tyler the bad guy, sorry ⎜ synopsis: working as a team trainer came with many ups and downs, when you pull one of toronto's super stars the downs seem to outweigh the ups - but auston is always willing to bring you back up. word count: 4.8k authors note:  this was a WIP i had already started but when doing the prompt list request I got two request that I felt tied in nicely, so I put them all together. I also love our gentle giant auston matthews. (disclaimer : none of the hockey events in this are accurate - so dont come for me.)

(unedited)

+

+

“You need to stop staring.” You can’t help the way you jump at the words, glaring at the man behind you before turning back towards the rink. 

“I’m not staring.” You huff, flicking some hair away from your face. “I’m assessing.” The large man steps forwards leaning against the barricade besides you, his eyes trailing over your face before following your gaze to the player on the ice. 

“Assessing for what?” Auston asks, his gaze watching his teammate curiously, before moving back towards you. Your frown was deepening as you watched the Swedish player move through the drills on the ice. “Is he okay?” 

Something was wrong.

What were you seeing that he couldn’t? 

“That is for me to know and for you to probably never find out.” You sigh as you push off the wall, turning towards the large man. “What’re you doing out here anyway, don’t you have an interview to do?” Auston shrugs as he turns away from the ice to look at you. 

“Is he injured?” He questions and this time you shrug in return. 

“It’s none of your business, Auston.” You begin holding up a hand before he begins to complain, “It’s a suspicion, nothing more and once it concerns you, you’ll be the first to know.” You finish, smiling as your player makes his way to the boards, unstrapping his helmet as he skates. 

“How was that, doc?” William asks, a large grin planted on his face as he nods a quick hello to his teammate. 

“Subpar.” You respond, William’s smile dropping slightly. “You seem to be favouring your left leg, I need to do a physical on you at some stage this afternoon if you manage to catch a free moment.” You continue, looking between the two players before letting out a relaxed grin. 

“I’m sure it’s nothing, Willy. But we can’t have you out there if you can’t play your best.” William nods slowly, trying to return your smile but you can see the worries running through his head quicker then he can keep up. 

He’s hiding something from you and you are determined to find out what it is. 

“Meet me in the treatment room after you shower, we'll go over my concerns then.” You say dismissing William back to the locker room before turning to Auston, glancing up at him with a sigh. 

“You need to go do your media, Auston” He opens his mouth to say something but you shake your head before you trudge down the tunnel after William. 

Working for the Toronto Maple Leafs had been nothing short of a dream for the three years you had been with the team - with one of the senior trainers leaving after last season you had been approached to step in as a full time trainer and senior member of staff - your role changing drastically and sometimes left you in the firing line when an unpopular decision had to be made. 

“He’s getting pulled isn’t he?” Auston’s voice sounds from the door of your office. William had left your office over an hour ago his eyes watering as you gave him the bad news. You had spent the hour in silence typing up the email recommendation to the coaching staff. 

“I can’t tell you anything, Auston.” You say quietly, “You know how this works.” Auston nods, taking a few steps into the room before closing the door behind him. 

“Is it bad?” 

“Auston, please.” You respond, rubbing your fingers against your forehead, a long sigh escaping you as you slowly nod your head. “It’s bad enough that he needs to focus on rehab right now.” You say, before adding “everyone’s gonna hate me for this.” This wasn’t your first time pulling one of the core four on the team - last time the boys had been more lenient as you were one of the junior staff members and the decision had your previous supervisor taking most of the heat - this time you were on your own. 

“I could never hate you.” He says softly, his chest squeezing as he watches the tiredness smooth over your expression. 

“Thanks.” You say with a bitter laugh, closing your laptop as you reach for your bag under the desk. 

“They’ll give the team an update tomorrow.” 

Auston stands with you, his hand reaching out to pull open the door waving for you to exit first. “I’m serious doc.” He says, “I’ve got your back.” 

Twenty four hours later you watch from the doorway as the coaches deliver the news to the team - the coaches waiting till after practice to announce that William would be pulled for the foreseeable future - Auston’s eyes flick to yours every now and then as the coaches refuse to divulge too deeply into the details. 

“What do you mean he’s getting pulled?” Mitch asks softly, yanking at the straps of his padding, pulling the equipment off slowly, “He seemed completely fine.” The volume is the locker room raises as the team all share their opinions of agreement.

The coach takes a moment to let the group voice their frustration before speaking.  “Our trainers are some of the best in the world.” Sheldon begins, “They have everyone's best interest at heart - she made the call to pull Willy as it was perceived that he was trying to conceal an injury and in the long run would be doing more damage. Willy agreed it was the best thing to do with hopes that with his full focus on recovery it will make him available for the playoffs.” Sheldon's words seem to quiet the group.

Auston hands pause on the laces of his skates as he glances over to you again, seeing your head fall, your hand pushing the loose hairs out of your face, as you whisper something under your breath before lifting your head again. “Anyway, let’s wish William all the best in his recovery and hope to see him back on the ice soon.” Sheldon finishes before dismissing the group, shouting out a quick morning practice time for tomorrow morning before exiting the locker room. 

The locker room is quiet after the coach leaves, Auston risking one more glance towards you, his heart jumping in his chest as he sees your eyes already locked on him with a sad smile on your face. Auston glances away quickly engaging in the ongoing conversation besides him to try and ignore you and your gaze on the side of his face.

He still notices when you turn slowly and decides to leave the room. 

+

+

“Fuck.” Sheldon swears under his breath as the end of game horn rings - the crowd of red roaring in victory as the home team groups together on the ice, patting each other on the heads. The sea of blue fans beginning to exit the stands all sending glares of anger towards your team slowly skating their way to the bench - hoping to make a quick exit. 

The game had been an intense one - the team had been so close to pulling through but continued to miss their shots, the fire power significantly decreased since you pulled one of their top scorers. You keep your head down low as you follow the last player down the tunnel, everyone making their way into the locker room - “Doc, we need to talk for a moment.” Your steps freeze as you glance ahead to the maple leafs coach waiting to the side of the locker room - his arms folded against his chest. 

“Sure, thing.” You say, plastering a smile on your face as you step away from the group - one of the players pausing by the door of the locker room, his hand making quick work of his helmet as he glances between you and his coach. 

“You have something to say, Matthews?” Auston glances at his coach, his mouth opening slightly before closing again, his gaze trailing over to you, your head moving side to side in the smallest movement he barely catches it. 

“It’s okay.” He can see you mouth the words, your head motioning for him to enter the room behind him before turning back towards his coach. 

“Don’t be too hard on her.” He says quietly into the hallway not waiting for you or Sheldon to respond before trudging into the locker room. 

“We both know that your decision to pull Nylander is one that can’t be reversed until you sign off on his physical.” Sheldon begins - the leafs had implemented a new protocol on the return of players from the injury reserve, the doctor who made the decision to pull the player had to be the one to sign them off on returning to avoid players and coaches undermining the doctors decision. 

You nod your head slowly - your smile faltering as you catch on to what the coach is hinting at. “You want me to sign him off early?” Your question almost comes out of your mouth as a scoff - your eyebrows raised as your smile officially switches to a frown. “You want me to break protocol for this?” You reiterate, your own arms crossing against your chest as you stare down the coach. 

“No, of course not.” Sheldon’s words come out with a nervous laugh - his gaze flicking over the hallways as he takes a step forwards - his voice lowers as he speaks again. “We only have one more game before the playoffs - we need our team back at full potential.” 

You nod taking in his words, giving him a second to continue, “You understand, don’t you? You know what this would mean to the team - to be able to begin the playoffs as a force to be reckoned with… we can’t do that without our core four.” You shake your head as you take a step away from the desperate coach. 

“No can do, Sheldon.” Your words are firm as you glance to the players beginning to hover at the door of the locker room. “I’m not going to risk him injuring himself permanently for the sake of playing a game.” You know your words are making the coach angry - his rage simmering as a red tint rises up his neck. “I care about our players, and I’d hope you’d share the same sentiment, coach.” The words hiss out of you as you glare at the man, not wasting anymore time in making your way into the medical bay besides the locker room - closing the door tightly behind you. 

You miss the way the rest of the team let out whistles of shock as their coach lets out a huff of displeasure.

You miss the way Auston watches you walk away, a slight grin on his face before his coach dismisses him to finish pulling off his gear. 

+

+

The team was two hours behind schedule - most of the staff already seated on the plane waiting for the players to join them so everyone could make the three hour flight back home. Slowly the players made their way onto the plane - each taking up their normal seats, most of the time the players would sit amongst each other while the staff would find their own seats towards the back of the plane - Sheldon considered it another of his many ways for the team to get closer together. 

“Auston, you gonna join us for some black jack?” Mitch’s voice carries through the airplane - his hands already shuffling a deck of cards, two of his team mates looking up at the newest arrival in anticipation. 

Auston hesitates looking between the empty seat next to you - and his best friend waiting for him to take the seat across from him. “I think I’m gonna miss out this time.” Auston says slowly walking further down the aisle - Mitch looking at his friend in disbelief. “I’m just super tired.” Auston adds as he shoves his bag in the overhead locker before dropping into the seat beside you - your eyes shooting over to him in confusion - your hand lifting to pull one of your AirPods out of your ear. 

“What are you doing?” You sneer under your breath - not missing the way some of his teammates glare over at you. “You need to move - staff and players don’t sit together, Auston.” Your hands shove at him lightly, but Auston makes himself comfortable in the seat beside you, a soft smile on his face as he ignores your pleading, clicking the seat belt at his hips and settling into the seat.

“This is ridiculous.” You huff, giving up on trying to move the large man, pressing play on the iPad screen in front of you, one AirPod still in your ear as the movie continues. “What’re you watching?” Auston asks as the flight attendants move down the plane checking everyone is buckled in and comfortable. 

You let out a long yawn as you shoot him a glare, “None of your business.” If your words were meant to stop Auston from interacting with you, they seemed to be doing quite the opposite. 

“You’re tired?” He questions as you let out another yawn, slapping a hand over your mouth to cover the movement, “You can rest your head on me.” He says softly, lowering his left shoulder, patting against the hard muscle with a grin, “I don’t mind.” He adds quickly, lowering his shoulder a little bit more. 

“Auston, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

“It’s probably not.” He agrees, his right hand reaching over to shuffle your iPad into the middle of your seats, before reaching over his body to gently pull your head down onto his shoulder, his left hand, grabbing for yours - your fingers lacing together as he sits your joined hands comfortably in your lap. 

“But that’s never really stopped me before.” 

Your breath gets caught in your chest as you think of all the ways people must be whispering about your position - not daring to lift your head off Auston’s shoulder to look around at the people around you - not daring to lift your head from the comfortable fabric of Auston’s fleece jumper. 

“Rest, doc.” He whispers softly, his hand squeezing yours, as he watches the movie on the screen, pulling the spare AirPod out of its case to shove in his ear. 

You’re not sure when you fall asleep but you wake to Auston’s hand squeezing yours, his head laying softly on top of yours, a jacket thrown over your torso, the movie credits playing on the screen of your iPad. 

“We’ve arrived.” The flight attendant says quietly, her gaze flicking over you and the man beside you with a knowing grin - leaving as you thank her, detaching your hand from Auston’s, the man letting out a soft groan, his hand reaching out to take yours again. 

“We’re here.” You whisper to him, slipping his jacket off of you to place back into his lap, gathering all your stuff before shoving it into your backpack - gently reaching to pull the remaining AirPod out of Auston’s ear, sliding it back into the case. “Auston?” You say softly as you shake his shoulder lightly. 

He sits up slowly, stretching his arms above his head as he glances over at you, your bag already slung over your shoulder as you wait for him to move so you can exit the plane. 

“Same time tomorrow?” He asks, undoing the belt in his lap, and stepping out into the aisle. You shake your head as you pass him, not able to stop the spreading grin on your face. 

+

+

Your head falls forwards as the end of game horn sounds for the last time in the regular season - the leafs lost again - the final game of their season they lost and they lost by two. Even though they were still guaranteed a position in the playoffs it never felt good to start the first round on a loss. 

Not to mention the news hitting the team yesterday that they would be up against Boston in the first round - the two teams notorious for having very intense games. 

No one says anything as the team makes their way back to the locker room - everyone stripping off their gear with heavy heads, most wanting nothing more than to get on the plane and head back home, you included. You can’t ignore the way people glare at you as you enter the room, some players whispering to each other under their breath in frustration. 

Some of the team still makes friendly conversation or sends you tight smiles as you help them unwrap their tape - or roll out their tight muscles, but most say nothing. Your final patient never makes his way into your medical bay - the other doctors packing up as you wait for the tall brunette to pop his head into the room, but nothing, not even a glimpse of the large player. 

“We’re going to take this stuff out to the crew, are you alright to pack up the rest?” One of your colleagues asks as he passes by you -  a few cases in his hands. 

“Yeah, I’ll be good to go in just a moment.” You say softly, letting out a quiet sigh as you turn to pack up your equipment, turning as you head a soft knock on the door. 

“Do you still have time to help me get this tape off?” His voice is quieter than usual - the player you were waiting for standing by the open door - his skin red from where he had tried to rip the strapping tape off on his own. You nod quickly, taking in his sad eyes - the skin around them redder than usual. 

“I tried to get it off myself, but you’re clearly too good at your job.” Auston says a bitter chuckle coming out as he takes a seat on the table in front of you - your hands digging through your bags for the adhesive removal spray. 

“Why didn’t you come ask for help sooner?” You ask quietly, as you behind to spray the remover on the remaining tape wincing at the rash spreading across his skin where the tape was already removed. “You could’ve gotten someone else to remove it.” You add quickly the thought that maybe he was trying to avoid you running through your head quickly. 

“Why would I do that?” His question confuses you, your eyebrows furrowing but you continue pulling off the tape. “You think I’m avoiding you?” 

“Aren’t you?” You ask bitterly, remembering the looks of the others on the team, the ones that clearly blame you for the loss. “Everyone else hates me right now, so it’s not like I blame you.” Auston just watches as you pull your bottom lip between your teeth, your chin wobbling as you try to suck in the overwhelming disappointment that’s been growing in yourself. He watches as you focus all your attention on pulling off the tape, keeping your attention on his sore skin as you rub soothing cream over the rash that he gave to himself. 

“I could never hate you.” He says softly as you twist the lid back onto the cream, standing from his spot on your bench, his hands raising to your face, lifting your head to tilt up towards him. “I told you when you first made the decision - I could never hate you, no matter what anyone else thinks - not even what you think, do you understand?” Your chin trembles as his thumb strokes against your cheeks softly, your head nodding in confirmation, his hands staying just under your jaw as he lets out a soft sigh.

“Then why are you sad? Why didn’t you come to me to help?” Your question stalls Auston’s ministrations on your skin, his thumbs stopping in their motions as he stares down at you, his jaw clenching as he tries to find his words. 

“I’m just disappointed.” 

“Disappointed?” 

“In myself.” He confirms before adding, “In the team, we let one person's absence throw us off the ball - we do this every god damn year.” His forehead drops to yours, his hands slipping away from your face, sliding over your shoulder before grazing down your arms, his fingers reaching out to lace with yours. “I thought we were going to do better this year… I thought I would do better.” 

The sound of footsteps in the locker room makes the two of you jump, your hands slipping out of his as you quickly throw the rest of your equipment into their cases, turning back to Auston with a soft smile. “You should finish getting change for the flight.” Auston nods, frowning as he glances out into the locker room seeing the other doctors hovering by the door. 

“You’ll wait for me?” He asks quickly, your head nodding before you can even register what he asked, his body slipping through the door before you can take back your agreement. 

But you do as requested, handing off your cases to the other doctors promising them you’d meet them on the plane, making excuses about Auston wanting to talk about a treatment plan for his shoulder - they both nod understandingly moving quickly to get the last of the equipment to the trucks to take to the airport. 

Auston’s surprised to see you still standing outside the locker room when he exits - his bag thrown over his shoulder, a large white hoodie thrown over your uniform as you turn towards him. The two of you walk to the bus in silence, neither knowing why you had stayed. 

Neither of you know why you still stayed as you sit next to each other on the bus. 

As you fall into your seats besides each other on the plane. 

Auston’s surprised again as you take hold of his hand once the flight takes off - your gaze focused on the window as the plane levels out - your headphones over your ears as you pretend your thumb isn’t rubbing gentle circles on the back of his hand. 

“What is going on with you two?” Auston’s head shoots up from the video playing on his phone, Mitch leaning over the back of the chair in front of him, his eyes lingering on the joined hands sitting in your lap. If you head Mitch you pretend not to, your chin in your hand as you keep watching the black sky pass by. 

“None of your business.” Auston replies, praying to whoever will listen that you don’t pay attention to Mitch’s interrogations, praying that you don’t take your hand out of his. “Mitch drop it.” Auston sneers as his friend's gaze drops to your joined hands again, Auston squeezing yours as he feels your fingers loosen on his. “Please.” Auston adds, Mitch’s eyebrows raising in surprise as he throws his hands up in surrender. 

The rest of the flight passes in silence, most of his teammates busy with their own unwinding processes, a lot of the staff sleeping for as much of the flight as possible. 

Neither of you two sleep. 

Neither of you acknowledge the other until the plane stops on the runway - the players and staff quickly making their way off the plane, stretching their limbs as they go. 

“Do you have a ride home?” Auston asks, his chest tightening as you finally pull your hands out of his, the warmth of your skin lingering in his palm. You shake your head softly, pulling out your phone and flashing the Uber app on your screen. “Come home with me.” Auston says wincing as the words hit him as soon as he says them. 

“Not like that - I mean I wouldn’t be against it but… I just…” 

“What do you mean then, Auston?” You interrupt, your face soft as you wait for him to respond, giving him the time to collect himself. 

“I don’t want to be alone.” He admits quietly, “I’d really like to spend some more time with you.” You don’t say anything, glancing down at the open app on your phone before glancing back up at him - handing your unlocked phone over, the arrival address waiting. 

“No way in hell you’re paying for the ride.” He hisses, pushing your phone back towards you as he pulls his own phone out of his pocket, reaching overhead to pull his backpack out of the locker, his hand reaching out for yours as he drags your off the plane behind him - the two of you bypassing the rest of the staff, Auston sneaking to grab your two suitcases before rushing you off the runway and into the airport an Uber waiting out the front. 

Auston sits comfortably in the silence, his hand warm between the two of you - his heart beating so fast he’s glad you know how to do CPR cause he might need it if you do anything else. 

Auston thanks the driver as he pulls up outside his building - pulling the bags from the trunk - your small duffle stacked on top of his suitcase - the bags dragged behind him as he also drags you behind him and into the empty lobby. 

“This place is really fancy.” You say as he scans his house fob - the elevator automatically selecting the floor for his condo. Auston doesn’t say anything, pretty sure he’d throw up if he attempted to get words out. 

“Are you okay?” You question as the elevator dings - the doors opening to the front door of his condo - the only condo on this floor. 

“Mhm.” He answers, swallowing his nerves as he shoves his key into the lock, opening the door as quickly as possible pulling you quickly into his empty apartment. 

“No Felix?” You question as you glance around, an empty crate sitting in the living room with no sign of the dog. 

“He’s at Mitch’s - Felix loves visiting Zeus when we go on roadies.” Auston finally speaks, his hand dropping yours for just a moment to set up your bags by the front door, pulling his large puffer off his shoulders and throwing it over a coat rack by the front door.   

“Make yourself at home.” Auston says as he strides into the kitchen grabbing two bottles of water from the fridge, his gaze shooting over to your body relaxing into the cushions of his oversized couch. 

“Where the hell did you get this thing?” You question as he hands you your bottle of water, slumping into the seat beside you, a grin on his face as he watches you settle in further. 

“I don’t know, my sister bought it.” He says quickly, your eyes squeezed shut as he reaches for a blanket draped over the back of the couch, throwing it over your lap. 

“Well I need the link.” You comment on bliss twisting the lid off the water as you take a sip. 

“It was almost ten thousand.” Auston’s hand moves to pat your back as the water gets stuck in your throat - coughs racking your body as you pat your chest. 

“Never-mind then.” 

“You can use mine whenever you want.” Auston says and you scoff, falling back against the couch as you drop the evil water besides you on the couch. “I’m not kidding.” He adds. 

Auston doesn’t know what makes him change his position. 

He’s not sure why he lies down on the couch, his head gently landing in your lap. 

He’s not sure what to do when he feels your fingers thread in his hair, running softly through his messy locks - the water from his shower still making the ends of his hair wet and tangled. 

Auston’s not sure when you both fall asleep - his phone making him squint as he checks the time - the four am flashing as he throws the device to the other side of the couch. 

He drags himself off the couch slowly, careful not to wake you as he slides his arms under your body, lifting you gently with a soft grunt as he scuttles down the hallway - his room only lit by the lights of the other high building through his window, his body freezing as you let out a soft whine as he drops you onto his mattress dragging his duvet down the bed to throw over your body. 

He doesn’t know what makes him round the bed, sliding onto the mattress behind you, pulling the blanket over his body as well, his mind running so fast as you turn on the mattress, your hands reaching out to tangle in the fabric of his shirt, your body shuffling in the cold sheets to move closer to him. 

“Don’t make things awkward, Auston.” You huff, as one of your hands releases his shirt, grabbing his frozen arm to drape over your waist, a happy hum leaving you as he pulls you tighter against him, his chin resting against the top of your head. “We’re going to have to talk about this in the morning.” You say. 

“I know.” He responds. 

Neither of you know when you fall back asleep.

But neither of you complain as you wake up bundled together in the large king bed. 

[sunraies]

can you do mean!rafe x crybaby reader with the prompt “I could just use a hug”. & he turns all soft because he feels bad?? 😭💗

Sure thing, honey bun. I tried 😊

3. I could just use a hug

Prompt List

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Rafe huffed as he swirled the little whiskey that was left around in his glass. Watching as the golden liquid sloshed. It had been a long day, and he just needed five minutes to think, so when footsteps started down the corridor and the door slowly opened after a tentative knock, he snapped without thought.

"What the fuck do you want?" His tone so cold, it made you sleepy smile drop and you body freeze in the doorway.

"I-I was just wondering if you were coming to bed?" You stuttered, looking at the floor. Never had he been like this with you. You'd seen it over the years to other people.

"I have a fucking mess to sort out" He finished his drink before topping it up again, gesturing to the paperwork around him.

"Could I help?" You started towards the desk, but his small cruel huff of laugh stopped you.

"You'll just mess it up even more, princess. I have enough shit to deal with"

"Right...well," You hummed, fighting back the tears that were bringing to form.

"Anything else? Or you just going to stand there distracting me"

He looked you up and down seeing you in your cozy dressing gown, the first time noticing how you were dressed, ready for bed. How your hands fiddled with the tie to your robe, and you couldn't look up at him.

"I could just use a hug" You muttered, trying to hide a sniffle as tears began to fall.

Rafe quickly put his glass down and shot up from his desk. It only took him a few strides to get to you.

"Of course I can give you a hug, princess" He engulfed you in his arms and kissed the top of your head as you sobbed into his chest "My girl, always so caught up in her feelings, hm?"

He smiled at your little whimper and nod as he rested his chin on your head. "I've got you" He cooed as you calmed down.

When you were ready to pull away, he gently wiped your cheeks. "You good?" He asked softly. "Words, sweetheart" He prompted as you gave a nod.

"Good" you said quietly as you looked at him puffy eyes.

"Give me five minutes, and I'll be up to bed"

He quickly closed his computer down and bundled up the paperwork before bounding up the stairs after you.

[temptacioun]

yandere ! fushiguro toji

requested by anon

prompts: “i know it hurts, baby. but that’s what happens if you don’t do as i say.” “you’re so cute when you’re struggling.”

toji fucking loved this.

loved watching your brows cinch together tightly, grasping the bedsheets underneath you tightly while he watches you from his position between your thighs. you sure are a tiny thing, even more so underneath his massive build and he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t hot to see you struggling to take his cock.

he’s barely in halfway and you’re already crying for a break. “i— i’m sorry, toji, please—” with hiccups on your lips and gasping for air, wriggling your hips in his grasp. it’s almost grotesque how much stronger he is than you, how easily his big hands fit around your waist ; you can’t even see past his broad shoulders when you stare up at him. “you’re so cute when you’re struggling.”

toji was a big man, it was no wonder you felt like he was splitting you in half, could feel him poking at your stomach and he wasn’t even close to done with you. “please stop— it hurts!” god, your voice sounded so sweet when laced with pain and terror. he leans down with a grin, cupping your face in his big palm and patting your cheek with fake sympathy.

“i know it hurts, baby. but that’s what happens if you don’t do as i say.” you should’ve known by now, but whenever toji gets that special glint in his eyes you can’t help but flee. but you never get far ; his arms easily wrap around your waist and haul you over his shoulder with a slap to your rear.

that had been maybe two hours ago, and you were still crying for him to stop. he should’ve bought that ball gag when he saw it at the store the other day, but then again, he did love hearing you cry for him. “c’mon love, it’s not the first time. quit being such a spoilsport.” he murmurs, leaning back slightly and his fingers dig into the fat of your thighs and hook your legs over his shoulders with ease — manhandling you into a pretty little mating press underneath him and he sinks right into your tight wet heat with a guttural groan.

“fuck— see? you were made for me, little one. made for my cock.” you wish you weren’t.

[voxmortuus]

Hi baby. Saw the prompt list. 😎 May I have #5 ☆ { calling } them late at night to come over for Jax Teller, please?

Thank you. ♥

⇘ PAIRING:⇙ Jax Teller x F!Reader ⇘ UNIVERSE:⇙ Sons of Anarchy ⇘ WORD COUNT:⇙ 1.1k ⇘ TRIGGER WARNINGS:⇙ Fluff | Smut | Jax and his filthy mouth (language) | Foreplay | P-i-V | Pull-out Method | More fluff | PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING!!! I want to make sure readers are fully aware of what they are getting themselves into when they read this… ⇘ NOTES:⇙ Sorry if this is total ass... but I hope this brings you some joy. ⇘ DIVIDER CREDIT:⇙ @nyxvuxoa ⇘ IMAGE CREDIT:⇙ This was found through Google and is not my GIF, if this is your GIF or know whose it is, please inbox me, so I can credit the creator. Thank you! ⇘ My Master Masterlist ⇙

It was just one of those nights, there's only so much scrolling you can do before things become repetitive, and boring in your feeds. Flipping between Tumblr, Reddit, and Facebook, things were becoming boring, and nothing was helping you fall asleep. Tapping the side of your phone, you flip through old photos, smiling now and again looking over Jax's face. Sitting up in bed, you check the time, 12:24 a.m. Sighing, you decide to give it a shot, chances are Jax was up anyway, so why not.

Scrolling down and finding his name, you hit the call button, and wait. Ringing you groan, maybe he was --

"Hey, Darlin'. You alright? What's up?" he asks, you can tell there's a smile on his face.

"Hey, Baby. I know it's kinda late, but would you mind coming over... I can't sleep... and I could use the company." you bite your lip a bit.

"Yeah, sure, I'll be over in 15." he stated.

After the brief conversation and a quick I love you and a hangup, you go unlock your door, knowing he'll lock it when he gets here.

Hearing the motorcycle approach, and the engine turn off, you feel this bubble of excitement pulse through you. It was a matter of time before you heard your front door open, close, lock, and the sound of boots headed your way.

Peeking his head in, he looks over you, and you smile, moving over you pat the empty space in your bed and gesture for him to join you. Taking the hint, he makes his way over, slipping off his vest and coat, tossing his hat on the table, and kicking off his boots and socks, he slips into bed.

"Your pants... your shirt... are in the way." you smirk.

He chuckles and standing back up he takes them off, dropping them to the floor before climbing back in under the covers. You scoot yourself closer, and he wraps his arm around you, pulling you close.

"Can't sleep?" he asked you.

Nodding, your fingers move over his chest as you look up at him and smile. "Thank you for coming over."

"It's nothin' Darlin'. I've always told you I'm a call away." he kisses the top of your head.

A soft smile graces your lips as you scoot a little closer to him and let out a small satisfied smile. But you seem you can't keep your hands from wandering on him. Slipping under the blanket, you keep your gaze on him as you move over his boxers. Smiling, you bite at your lip and kiss him sweetly.

A slight chuckle escapes his lips as he pulls you closer to him, his hand roaming your figure as he moves you to lay on top of him, holding you close, his hips move upward a bit, kissing you deeply, and he slips the shirt from your body and tosses it to the floor along with his clothes.

Pressing yourself against him, your hands move up along his sides and find your way to get tangled in that love head of golden locks. The kissing gets a little heavier between you two, the touching, how you press your hips against him, feeling him harden against you. You move your hand between your legs as you grip him through his boxers. He groans against your lips as he grips your breast, pulling you closer, and kissing you deeper.

The kissing, the touching, the grunts, and the groans were enough to send you into a feral mind. Moving his boxers down, you slip him right between your lips, your hips press yourself down, pressing him deeper inside you. You both end up groaning in unison.

His grip on your hips is tight, his fingers pressing hard against your flesh, indenting as he thrusts upward just enough to finish that last little bit you wanted to slip inside you. The streetlights are the only thing illuminating the room, your shadow cast on the walls. Looking over, he watches your shadow as you brace yourself against his chest and begin to move up and down on his cock.

Holding your thighs in his hands, he watches the way you move against him, your hands pressing into his chest as he moves his own up your body, feeling your flesh under his hands was a sort of high for him. He presses a hand against your chest, between your breasts, as he slowly guides your motions as he thrusts upward.

As you are being guided with a hand on your chest, one on your hip, and his cock between your legs, your head falls back as you let out a loud, long, drawn-out moan. Your body trembles as you pick up on the sounds, the smells, the way the air tastes. Listening to him grunt and your own moans fill the air. It's all palpable. Erotic. Addicting.

The way you both work against and with each other, it sends these shockwaves through both of you, a genuine quickie, you feel yourself building, but of course, it doesn't help with his own buildup, you can tell in his tone, in how frequent his groans become, in how his breath smells. Leaning forward, you moan against his lips. And that's when he tells you to finish with him. He lifts you up, and you grip his cock as he works your bud.

Before you know it, your whole body trembles, feeling those hot ribbons of white pour against you. Whimpering and trembling against him, you begin to pant. Achieving your desired goal, he leans against the pillow but grabs something to clean you up.

There was hardly anything spoken between you two. But you lay there, holding him close, you look up at him as he stares down at you.

"You feel good." you chuckle.

"What even was that?" he chuckles.

"I think it's called a quickie. You should be used to those." you poke.

"Ohh, is that what that was? I like those... but next time... we do a longie... not a quickie," he smirks.

"I'll play with your longie." you chuckle.

"No, Darlin', we call it a cock, longie.... please no." he chuckles. "Besides, I like the way the word cock escapes your lips." he smirked.

"You like your cock between my lips Jax..." you joust.

Gasping he chuckles. "That is true... gotta say, you're a good cocksucker." he winks.

The night continued into the morning, and eventually, you had both fallen asleep. His arms wrapped around you, his face in your hair, and you clung to him like your entire life depended on it. You were glad you called him over, much needed, and the sleep was much better with him there.

[twola]

i know arthur is a giver but sometimes i think he’d like being cruel. i have this image of him leaned back in a chair taking a drag out of his cigarette with reader writhing on his lap with tears in her eyes practically begging for him to do anything to her while he watches with feign indifference

Hooo boy. Okay, this is my first shot at a true low honor Arthur.

Lookin' for Trouble

Arthur Morgan x F!Reader Smut (18+), MDNI

➵ Fic Masterlist ➵ AO3 Link

The afternoon light was more than enough for you to finally get to reading after getting Grimshaw’s list of chores done. Finally, you’d be able to crack open this book that Hosea lent you all those weeks ago.

All of a sudden, the light is obscured over the pages of your book, and when you look up, you place a hand over your eyes to see the mountain of a man before you, peering down at you with a cigarette hanging off his lips.

“Oh, Arthur, I didn’t realize you’d be back so quick.” You smile up to him, closing the book and moving to your knees to stand up.

An outstretched hand juts into your view, “Ain’t nothin’ interesting in that backwater town.”

You take it and allow him to pull you up, but you frown up at him and don’t let go, turning both of your hands so that his knuckles face the two of you. The skin is broken and oozing a small amount of blood.

“Oh dear, let me clean that up for you in your tent.”

You drop his hand and he follows, smoking that cigarette without a reply. On its head, it must be a funny sight, the grizzled outlaw following your small frame back to his tent so dutifully. 

He pulls the canvas down after the two of you enter the tent, tall enough being built off his wagon. The perks of being the enforcer of the group. You make yourself busy looking in the chest at the foot of his cot for some alcohol as you pull a handkerchief from the pocket of your skirt.

Arthur sits down on the edge of the cot, taking that old black hat from his head and dropping it atop the pillow that had seen better days.

“Here we go,” you dab your handkerchief with a bottle of god-knows-what and move back toward where Arthur sits.

He places the still-lit cigarette in the little glass tray at his bedside, the end of it continuing to smolder as he blows smoke toward the top of the tent, away from you.

You frown, twisting your head to change your view of his outstretched knuckles. “It’s an awkward angle, I-”

He cuts you off by making you yelp as his free hand shoots around your hip and pulls you down, your rear colliding with his firm thigh, his hand on your hip balancing you as you regain your composure.

“Oh… thanks…” you blush slightly, having been caught off guard. You return to dabbing at the broken skin of his knuckles, his large hand outstretched and dwarfing yours, as you perch upon his thigh, your back flush to his barrel chest.

“How did this happen?” You ask softly as you pick at the dirt in his inflamed, broken skin. 

“Y’know, a bit of this, bit of that.”

You sigh, “I really hope you ain't out pickin’ fights, Arthur.”

Arthur hums dismissively in response, jostling you slightly on his thigh. He props the cigarette between his teeth and his free hand moves forward and begins bunching your skirts up, the hem of your dress being pulled higher and higher.

“Arthur-” You go to scold, but his searching hand gravitates right over where he’s looking for, pressing against your cunt through your bloomers. You give another yelp as his finger digs at the cotton, prodding and stroking and petting.

“A-Arthur, I’m tryin’ to-”

As you go to grip his forearm with both hands, his injured hand darts downward, grasping both of your wrists and holding them away from your body, essentially binding you and leaving you unable to stop his ministrations.

A low, satisfied noise rumbles out through his chest as you pant, his fingers edging the leg of your bloomers open and touching your bare skin. Just barely touching, teasing, as you squirm in his lap, his hold on your wrists as strong as iron. 

You honest-to-god whine, tears welling behind your eyes as you squirm in his lap, trying to break free of his hold on your hands, trying to jut your hips into his hand more.

“A-Arthur- god, please-” you gasp aloud, squeezing your eyes shut tightly as you beg. He removes his hand entirely and you nearly sob at the loss.

Cracking your eyes open, you see him pull the cigarette from his mouth and place it in that glass tray, mashing the butt into the ash as he puts it out. He bounces his thigh as his hand returns to your cunt, chuckling darkly as you continue to squirm.

“Ain’t you just the prettiest little thing when you’re all needy like this?”

A fresh set of tears burst from your eyes as his hand snakes into your bloomers again to rub at you.

“P-please-”

“Please what, what d’ya need darlin’?”

He cups your cunt fully and helps you roll your hips over his thigh bone, and it’s all you can do not to sob loudly at the frustration.

“Use your words, sweetheart.”

“Arthur please, please god, please touch me.”

“I am touchin’ ya’.” He responds, pleased with himself as you struggle against his grip, iron-like in its strength.

“In-inside-” you pant, continuing to squirm against him.

“Hmm, like this?”

You are able to bite back the scream you nearly let out as Arthur slides his trigger finger into your dripping cunt. He curls it with a practiced precision, and you buck in his lap, throwing your head back against the curve of his shoulder. Your temple brushes against his days-old beard before he leans in against you.

“There’s my girl,” he nips at your earlobe with haughty pride, fully taking satisfaction with the way you writhe atop him, “Makin’ them noises like a whore.”

There’s no snapping back at him, no retort back at his dry, teasing humor. You are able to do nothing but give a breathy sigh, almost agreeing with his statement.

Arthur grabs your hips and hoists you up to stand, quickly following and pushing you two stumbling steps to the table where a few of his guns are spread out. One sweep of his arm and the guns clatter into the grass before you're abruptly bent at the waist and spread out on the table.

“Arthur-”

One of his large hands splays across your lower back as he fiddles with the buttons of his pants. Essentially keeping you pinned down on the table, you have no option but to lay there and take whatever he is going to give you.

Arthur pulls your skirts up, tossing them over your hips before yanking your bloomers down and over the swell of your ass. His hand is between your legs quicker than you can sputter in indignation, and you bite your lip to keep from moaning as he strokes his thick fingers in and out of your wetness. Your eyes tightly shut as you breathe out your nose, and for a moment, you’re empty as he pulls away.

The hot, blunt head of his cock prods your entrance before he pushes himself inside you, in one strong thrust. Your fingers clamp on the edge of the table as you clench your teeth at the intrusion, fluttering on the edge of pain as his thick cock stretches you. It’s always like this, he’s not much of a gentle man. 

“Tha’s it, what a good girl you are, takin’ everything I give ya.” Arthur drawls as he begins to buck his hips forward into yours, unflinchingly setting a rough, fast pace.

You’re unable to last after all the stimulation before, and it’s not long into the slamming of him into you that you begin to get that feeling that your release was imminent.

“A-Arthur-” you gasp out as you reel toward completion, the table squealing beneath you as he rocks his hips into yours faster, harder - punishing - all six foot of him hunches over you as he fucks you into a wet, messy orgasm, you pressing your forehead into the table as you clench around him.

He grunts, jerking his hips backward as his hands clamp harshly around your hips, squeezing so hard you’re sure there will be bruises in the morning. You feel the hot splatter of his spend on your rear as he lets out a long breath through his nose, trying himself to be quiet within the confines of the tent.

You pant, still bent over the small table, your skirts flipped over your hips as your knees shake. You hear Arthur fiddle with his pants before returning to you, his hands grasping at your thighs greedily before pulling at your skirts to right them.

He swats, albeit gently, at your rear before your skin disappears under your skirts. 

“You gonna let me finish cleaning you up?” You ask, leaning over slightly to pick up your discarded bloomers from the ground, tucking them into your pocket.

Arthur sits back on his cot, his pants still unbuttoned and open unapologetically, as a sly smile creeps across his face.

“If yer really gonna clean me up, I think there’s a lot less clothing involved.”

[outsideratheart]

41 with Alexia

41 //looking at their lips as they talk// 

The sun shon bright in the Barcelona sky as you stood pitch side ready to report on the infamous El Classico. It was a match that you loved to play in but you picked up a serious ankle injury a couple of months ago and you weren’t quite fit to play or even to train yet.

5-0 was the end result yet throughout the halftime and post match media you tried your best to remain fair even though everybody knew you bled Blaugrana.

Like always the team did a lap of the pitch. You knew they were getting close as the fans behind the camera erupted, all of them wanting a shirt signed or a photo with their favourite player. So whilst you did expect to see one or maybe two of your team mates what you didn’t expect was to feel a hand of the small of your back and the sight of Alexia standing next to you. Here she was, the woman who hated doing media with every fibre of her being, voluntarily giving an interview.

“Ladies and Gentleman, La Reina herself”

The use of the nickname she loved to hate earned you a playful shove.

One of the official presenters made the most of having both you and Alexia in an interview given that you hadn’t done for in months. Much to you surprise Alexia was in a chatty mood and you spent most of the interview taking in her beauty. It wasn’t a huge secret that you and her were dating but you never got round to doing a hard launch so to say.

You notice some of Alexia’s hair fall in front of her face so as if by instinct you place it gently behind her ear. This earns you a look off Alexia as if saying are you going to do what happens next when you do this at home. It’s safe to say the thought did cross your mind but you knew now wasn’t the time or place. It didn’t stop you from glancing down at her lips as she spoke about how proud she is of the team. Her passion is one of the things you loved most about her and you know the look in your eyes will show this but you didn’t mind.

Alexia’s hand squeezes your hip, an act which she knows will earn a reaction given you’re ticklish.

“Que?”

“La pregunta?”

You turn your attention to the presenter and it’s clear she asked you question.

“Lo siento” your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

“Don’t apologise. Alexia gave us everything we need about the game and I’m sure you gave us enough material to make the fans happy”

You both thank the presenter and Alexia waits whilst you give back your mic pack. The two of you are some of the last players on the pitch and walk into the tunnel together. Even though you weren’t playing you did plan on joining in on the locker room celebration but just before you reach the door Alexia grabs your wrist and pulls you back to her.

“What?”

“I thought maybe you wanted to look at my lips some more seen as though you refused to look at anything else out there”

“Why you got to call me out like that?”

“I’m not. I’m simply giving you a chance to do something other than stare”

Alexia’s lips was on yours before you had to chance to reply. She has you pinned against the wall with no care in the world who could see you. Alexia rested one hand against the wall beside your head and her other grabbed your hip. Yours travelled up her back beneath her loosely fitted leather jacket.

For a brief moment you forget where you were and when you felt Alexia’s tongue brush against you lips you allowed her entry.

“Well well well, look what we have here. Our dear captains the celebration are in the locker room but I can see that you are having a very good time out here in the hallway” Mapi says rather smugly.

“Leave them alone Maria” Ingrid pushes her towards the locker room “Not that I want to interrupt but the rest of the team is on there way so you might want to go somewhere else if you want to continue”

All three of you begin laughing at the situation and whilst you wanted nothing more than to pick you where you were before getting interrupted, you knew that it was best to be done at home away from prying eyes and teasing team mates.

[littlejuicebox]

Hi! I'm not sure if you take requests so if you don't, please ignore this and I hope you had a wonderful Christmas.

I just read your Astarion X Tav fanfic where Astarion proposes. It is said that the ring he got glows whenever Astarion thinks of Tav. I was just wondering if you could write a slice of life about the ring glowing at the most random times. Maybe during a stealth mission where Tav has to stay hidden or when he is smiling in his sleep and the ring glows. I just thought it would be cute and fun to write about. You can get creative with it.

Thank you for taking the time to read this, whether you end up doing this request or not. I hope you had an amazing Christmas and I hope you will have an amazing New Year's!

Hi Anon! I don’t think this is quite what you were asking for but… this is what came out! 🤷‍♀️ The smut gods blessed me and I cannot deny their gifts. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! Smut below the cut.

If you haven’t read my other work and would like context, Anon is referencing a two part mini story I wrote. Click here for part 1, and click here for part 2.

Warnings/Tags: 18+ only please, smut, masturbation, sex pollen, swearing/cursing, game spoilers

Word Count: 1.5K

-----

“I think we’re just… a bit out of practice, darling. It has been nearly a year since we were down here last, you know.” Astarion whispers, crouched next to you behind a Funguswood tree. He’s wiping bits of dirt, twigs, and mushroom pollen off himself with a handkerchief.

“Admit it, Astarion. You just weren’t fast enough.” You respond with a small, teasing poke of your tongue as you rearrange your weaponry and count your arrows.

The pale elf finishes wiping off the debris, and you return your attentions to the mission. You’d been contracted to scout out the vampire stronghold in the Underdark and report your findings back to Wyll and the Flaming Fists. Rumor was that the vampire hoard had wreaked absolute havoc on the Underdark; the city feared the creatures would soon return to the surface if they could not find sustenance here.

“Would you have preferred I let that wild Rothé ram you into those mushrooms in my stead?!” Astarion hisses in return while rubbing his hand over his arm, which now felt unbelievably tingly and was starting to radiate significant warmth, “Hells, what mushrooms were those, anyway?!”

You stifle a chuckle, knowing your fiancé is already past his limits of patience. You two need to get to the scouting point, set up camp, and hunker down for a few days… all while avoiding detection from the vampires or any other nefarious creatures in the Underdark. Best to do it without an ornery Astarion by your side.

“I don’t know what mushrooms those were. I’ve never seen them before.” You admit with a small shrug, “Come on my love, not much further now and then we can get you properly cleaned up.”

Astarion follows behind you in silence, apart from the occasional cursing and swiping at his skin. Gods, the heat had spread up his entire arm now. The scratching seemed to make it worse, but by the hells, he couldn’t stop no matter how much he wanted to. The two of you finally got to the cragged rock that led to a small cave where you would make camp, and he never felt more relieved in his life. He couldn’t wait to clean himself properly and be done with this burning sensation.

You glance at him briefly and then begin climbing the rock. Astarion remains below to keep you covered in case anything decides to attack while you’re left defenseless. He looks up to watch your progress and cannot help but to notice the overwhelmingly attractive curve of your bottom. It was always attractive, of course, but something about it in this moment was entirely… irresistible. Had you been working out recently in preparation for the wedding?

You’re halfway through climbing the rock when your engagement ring bursts into a spray of light. It often glows significantly at the surface, but in the blackness of the Underdark, you’re practically a beacon. Your stomach drops. Gods, how had you forgotten to take it off?

“Astarion!” You hiss in a panicked whisper, “Cut it out! Every being in all of the Underdark will know our position.”

Astarion had realized the issue as soon as the light had flared, of course. He was trying desperately to avoid thinking of you and all the delicious things he wanted to do when you two made camp, but gods he couldn’t control it. What in the hells was wrong with him? He wanted to stop, to ensure your safety, but your plump, perfect ass was practically calling his name, begging for his attention, and he wanted nothing more than to bend you over and—

He shakes his head, trying to rattle the lewd fantasies from his psyche, “I’m trying, my love! I don’t know what’s come over me I just—“

Hags. Hideous shoes. Ghouls. Manual labor. Gale.

The pale elf tries to think of all the most grotesque, unsexy things he can and push you entirely from his mind. You continue to climb, hoping to quickly reach the top and take off your ring as soon as possible. The ring is still glowing like a single star in the blackest night.

Ogres. The smell of Araj’s blood. Rats. Gale.

Gods, it was useless.

Finally, you reach the top. You rip the ring off your finger and shove it in your pack as soon as your limbs land on the surface of the cave. Astarion quickly scales the rock behind you, and when he reaches the top, you’re positively glaring at him.

“Darling, I’m sorry! I really tried. It’s just— gods damn these mushrooms!” The vampire is ripping off his shirt and scratching at his skin as the two of you walk into the little cave. Before long he’s down to his knickers and cursing as he rubs desperately at his flesh.

You’re trying to ignore your fiancé and quickly pitch the tent so you can handle whatever the hells is going on with him. A sideways glance to your pack reveals that the ring is still glowing quite intensely… perhaps more than it ever has before. Was that even possible? At any rate, you can’t get closer to the stronghold with it glowing like that.

“Astarion, I don’t know what—“ You spin around, and you’re surprised to see the elf fully nude on his blanket, doing perhaps the most provocative thing you’ve ever witnessed.

Astarion is beaded in sweat by now, and his hands are wandering over himself, chasing the burning tingle as it travels through his body. Gods, the feeling was becoming absolutely unbearable. He kept seeing visions of you and him in the throes of passion in his mind.

He couldn’t stop even if he wanted to. Did he want to stop? He couldn’t decide. All he knew was the intense tingling and burning coursing through his veins and the wonderful fantasies filling his brain. He needed release from this torture; his limbs were on fire and the sensation was spreading to his groin.

The elf knows by the throbbing pulse in his cock that his erection is at full capacity, and he feels the dribbles of precum slowly sliding from the head, down the shaft. Astarion is, admittedly embarrassed knowing you are mere feet away and witnessing such an erratic show, but he grabs his own cock regardless— gods, it felt like being possessed. He needed release and he needed it now.

As his fingers wrap around his shaft, a burst of relief travels through his body. The tingling ceases for a moment. But then, it flares again and he’s consumed by the burning feeling and vulgar thoughts of the two of you once more. He pumps his hand a few times, bucking into the sensation, and once again the torturous tingle halts.

What in the hells?

Astarion is now rolling his hips towards his own hand, groaning in pure ecstasy at the relief from the burn as well as the delicious sensation of his hands stroking his uncharacteristically sensitive member. His eyes are clasped closed, and his other hand is still wandering over his torso, chasing that burning itch.

Through panting, shaking breaths he murmurs, “Darling, is it— oh gods, is possible that those— fuck — mushrooms contained sex pollen? I’ve never— mmh, fuck.”

You’d been so enraptured by the vision of your lover touching himself in such an uninhibited display of lust that you almost didn’t hear what Astarion asked. The slickness of your arousal was starting to become apparent as you instinctively squeezed your thighs together.

“I’m… I’m not sure, my love. I’ve read of such things but I’ve never come across it… until, perhaps, now I suppose.”

Astarion isn’t really listening. Instead, he’s bucking wildly into his own hand, chasing his own release. He falls apart in front of you, with his limbs tensed and mouth agape in pure, unadulterated pleasure, clasping tightly onto his own length. The gasping, strangled moan of relief that escapes him as he reaches his climax and shoots sticky streams of hot white seed onto his abdomen ignites a fire in your groin. He’s shuddering with the rippling aftershocks of his orgasm and you feel yourself dripping with arousal as you rub your thighs together once more. This display was entirely feral.

For a few moments the vampire is breathing contentedly, eyes still shut. He’s still holding his cock, which continues to twitch insistently despite its significant spend. Your lover brings his unoccupied hand to his hair and rakes it through his disheveled, sweaty curls.

You flick your gaze to your pack and notice that it’s no longer emitting that ethereal glow. But then Astarion groans in dismay and you see light flare from your bag again. When your attention returns back to your fiancé, he’s already grasping wantonly at a second rapidly growing erection.

“Darling, I can smell you,” He hisses desperately, now slathering his own milky juices around the swollen, reddened tip of his thick cock. The veins in his arm and on his shaft are pulsing as he begins to stroke himself again, “Don’t be coy just— come over here and help me with this. Please.”

And by the gods, he asked so nicely, how could you say no?

[cosmophoriia]

੭ — there for each other : found family.

ღ request from: @apparitionauthor — I'm a big fan of platonic duos/found family. Could you do a prompt list of something from that arena? If you need something more specific, some of my favorites are mentor&mentee, brothers (not by blood), black cat&golden retriever.

ღ warnings : slight angst but mostly fluff.

“thank you for always being there for me when i needed you.”

“why haven’t you given up on me yet?”

“you’re the only family i got and i wouldn’t change it for anyone else.”

“i always wanted a brother… i finally got my wish.”

“you took me in when i needed a home, i’m so grateful to have you in my life.”

“how are we friends, we’re total opposites!” “well they say opposites attract.” “… i hate it here.”

“choose your own path, don’t let anyone choose it for you.”

“you choose how your future goes, no one else can choose it for you.”

“even though we’re not technically brothers, i still tell people you are since you always have my back and i’ll always have yours.”

“i heard you weren’t feeling good and brought you some soup.”

“you’re more family to me than my real family.”

“be careful.”

“i don’t know what i’d do if you got hurt.”

“you’re never a burden to me.”

“come to me if you need anything.”

“don’t stay up too late, you need some rest.”

“stop worrying, i’ll be fine.”

“look how far you’ve have grown.”

“what happened to the [name] that always wanted me to protect them? “they’re still there [character a name], they just need a little less protecting.”

“never apologize for being you.”

[pucked-bunnie]

hands off ⎜m.barzal

pairings: mat barzal x reader prompts: "can you please come get me?" + "Don't fucking touch what isn't yours." warnings: mentions of stalking? ⎜drunk people ⎜reader is uncomfy ⎜ word count: 1.4k note: I got a lot of request for Mat so I decided that these two go well together and ended up combining them. Requests are open!

(UNEDITED)

+

+

The party was supposed to be fun. 

It was supposed to be a good way for you to find new friends - to bond with some of the other wags. 

And sure the night started out fun. 

“I promise they’ll take good care of you, it’s just dinner and some drinks.” Mat had assured you as he watched you pull on your coat, the oversized denim jacket holding in any warmth it could manage, stopping the slight tremble of your limbs at the winter cold. 

Moving to New York had been a big adjustment, especially in the dead of winter. Mat had talked to some of his teammates, hoping to be able to set up a girls night with some of the wives and girlfriends on the team to help you adjust to being in a new city, to help you make some new friends to keep you company when he was away so often. All the girls were quick to agree, adding you to the team group chat to discuss the details. 

“I know, but it’s been so long since I’ve gone out and my sister warned me about the bars around here.” You respond as you glance up at him, pulling your lip between your teeth. 

You wanted him to comfort you. 

To give you a reason to cancel. 

Or to say he would come with you. 

Meeting new people was terrifying. 

“I swear it’ll be fine, just message me when you’re ready and I’ll come get you.” You nod slowly at his words, leaning up on your toes to press a soft kiss against his cheek, Mat giving you a big smile as he pushes you lightly towards the front door of the bar, leaning against the side of his car until the front door closes behind you. 

Mat was right. 

The night started out fun. 

But things changed so quickly. 

“Hey, you’ll be right to head home on your own right?” Anders asks, his wife draped against his side, a drunk smile on her face as he holds her steady with one arm around her waist. “Mat’s on his way?” He questions, you don’t really respond, just giving a tight smile. 

You had messaged Mat. 

You swear. 

Anders pats your shoulder softly, before dragging his wife out of the club, trying to avoid her incessant affections. You watch as they leave the constantly filling bar, the crowds of people getting louder, more boisterous as the night carries on. The others had been picked up earlier by their partners, each whisked off in a slightly tipsy haze. 

You had been left on delivered for the last thirty five minutes. 

And there was no sign of Mat responding anytime soon. 

“He’s probably fallen asleep.” You reassure yourself, you phone showing a time of eleven forty eight pm, way past Mat’s normal bedtime. 

Letting out a long sigh, you push away from the spot at the bar, grabbing your jacket off the back of your chair, slinging it over your shoulders, buttoning each button tightly before hefting your purse up on your shoulder. 

Your apartment wasn’t far away. 

The walk would have to be brisk with the cold seeping into your bones, but it was do-able. 

You smile softly as the door managers as you exit, crossing your arms over your chest with your phone tight in your hand as you start walking down the block. 

You can hear as they exit behind you. 

The four men bustling amongst each other. 

Each of them daring the other to close the gap. 

You type quickly on your phone, pressing the cold glass to your ear as the dial tone rings in your ear. 

You dare to glance back, the men pausing for a moment, discussing something between themselves. 

“Baby?” Mat’s voice is groggy, coughing a few times as he repeats, “Baby, are you there?” You catch yourself nodding in response - despite the fact that Mat can’t hear you - your free arm tight around you as you speed up a little more. 

“Can you please come get me?” You ask softly into the phone, you can hear the rusting of a blanket and the padding of Mat’s bare feet on your apartment floor as he moves around the rooms. 

“Where are you?” He asks quickly, “Are you safe?” 

“Like five minutes from the bar, I thought I could make it.” You continue, your body jumping as you hear the footsteps close in. 

“Hey, wait.” You hear a voice call out from behind you, the man's voice slurred slightly, his friends egging him on. 

“Who was that?” Mat asks, the jangling of his keys ringing through the phone. “Are you walking?” He asks again, his voice deeper, more gravely, the easiest to tell that he was angry. 

“You weren’t responding.” You justify, “It’s only a fifteen minute walk, I thought it would be fine.” You hear Mat let out a cuss, the words sounding far away. You can hear his fingers swiping on his screen before he swears again, the sound of a grunt a thump before his voice is close to your ear again. 

“I’m on my way - stay on the phone with me, okay?” You nod again, glancing once more over your shoulder the men are closing on you now. 

Mat’s breathing heavily into the phone, reminding you to keep walking. 

He’ll be there soon, he promises. 

The hand lands out your arm roughly, your body swung around to face them. 

“I asked you to wait.” The man groans, he couldn’t have been more than mid twenties, you wish he knew how scared you were right now. 

“My boyfriend is on his way to come get me. I’m not interested.” You speak confidently, you can hear the muffled sounds of Mat saying something into the phone, but you can’t make out the words, your arm dropping to your side as the man's friends stop around the two of you. 

“Let me go.” You say, firm in your words. 

“But you haven’t even heard me out yet.” The man whines, his tone similar to that of an upset child. “Please give me a chance.” He whines again, his hand still clamped on your arm. The man is clearly drunk, his friends goading him on. 

“I bet she’s lying.” One says. 

“She probably doesn’t even have a boyfriend.” The other adds. 

“Show her what she’s missing out on.” The last one says. 

The man in front of you pauses, his eyes flicking over your shoulder, heavy steps stopping behind you, the man’s hand loosening slowly. 

“Didn’t your mothers ever teach you boys manners?” Mats voice hisses from beside you, his hand reaching out to close around the drunk stranger's wrist, the man releasing you quickly. 

“Don’t fucking touch what isn’t yours.” Mat sneers, his body moving in front of your as he pushes the man away from the two of you. 

The men are smart. 

They retreat quickly, excuses falling from their mouths. 

“Sorry man.” One sighs. 

“Didn’t mean any harm.” The other adds. 

Mat glares at the back of them as they stumble back down the street to the bar, their attention finding some other people to focus on. 

“You ran all the way here?” You ask. 

“Yes.” Mat responds. 

“Are you mad at me?” You question quietly, Mat’s chest heaving, as he runs his fingers through his hair. 

“What?” He asks, spinning on the spot to face you, letting out a long sigh as he reaches for you, his arms wrapping around your head to pull you into his chest, his hands stroke your hair as he lets out another long breath. 

“I’m mad at myself.” He says quietly. “I told you I would come get you as soon as you messaged and I was an idiot and fell asleep.” 

“It’s okay.” You grumble into his chest, your words muffled by his thick hoodie. 

“I was so scared.” 

“So was I.” You agree, pulling your head away from his chest to look up at him, smiling as you pull yourself out of his arms, reaching to latch your hand in his as you pull him to start walking besides you. 

“I can’t believe you ran all the way to help me.” You chuckle softly, finally tucking your phone back into your pocket, the danger ebbing away as you watch your boyfriend's shoulders slump as he shakes his head in disbelief. 

“I can’t believe I did, either.”

[saltofmercury]

hii its me again, can you do one where könig is handling a totally wasted and drunk reader? like where the reader just got done celebrating and having a few drinks with some co-workers. (got this idea after my tipsy friend pointed to a big bulky guy and said "i want him to take me home" and the guy just shyly waved at our crowd and it really reminded me of könig.) i'm not much of drinker since i don't have a high tolerance

Yuhhhhhh I loved this request. Takes me back to the times… now I can barely drink a pint without priming myself with Advil.

Pairing: König x reader (more so f!reader?)

Summary: You come home tipsy to König’s house.

A/N: a lil jealousy mention, but nothing too serious. Playful teasing? (Can you guys see the development of him falling in love with you and being more vulnerable maybe just a bit?)

“Home”

Your shoes knocked under you. Your feet ached. You weren’t sure how exactly your group of friends and yourself were able to squeeze into the Uber. The woman inside the Uber was intimidated, begging everyone to please use the plastic bags she had behind the passenger seat if they felt sick.

You and your group of friends had gone out to a bar for the night. It had been months of not seeing each other, one round turned to many, soon all of you clearly intoxicated, releasing the built up stress of your day to day.

You rode in the Uber, your head spinning. Maybe the plastic bag was a good idea. You just wanted to go home, take off the tight clothes on your body, hide your annoying shoes, and wipe off the sweat on your face.

Your friend kept talking to you, asking to describe the house.

You had picked König’s house to come home to, promising to spend the weekend with him for some sort of gaming event he had got tickets to. You were just happy to come home to him.

“It’s got little stones in the driveway” you mumbled, the window of the car starting to spin.

“The color you idiot.. maybe even a car?” your sober friend in the passenger seat directing the driver to slow down so she could watch.

“like dark gray rain clouds” you closed your eyes, clearly nauseated. “He’s got a g-wagon.”

“Dark gray rain clouds?” They giggled uncontrollably.

“We get it you’re fucking a German.” Another one said.

“Austrian.” You mumbled back. A finger in the air.

You searched for the house in your mind, your muscle memory focusing on the left curve the driver took, then a right up a hill. You kept ignoring the laughter behind you. The house soon came into vision, one light on outside, but the rest of the lights off inside. His car was parked in the driveway, and as soon as the Uber parked behind it, the motion sensor light went off.

“Are you sure this is the house?” You friend asked skeptically, feeling unsure. The rest of the neighborhood was asleep, the top of the hill had only a couple of porch lights on in the distance.

“Yeah it’s just a quiet neighborhood” you hiccuped, started tying your shoes up again in the dark.

You looked up again, recognizing the figure coming outside the door. His broad stance, his weight shifting equally on both of his legs, bulky arms hidden underneath a gray crew neck sweater.

God… just his figure made you fidget in your seat. You felt the anticipation to touch, feel him. Your hands itched. His stride to the car made you tingle.

He was covered up… in a face mask? He approached the car while you tumbled out of it excited. The rest of your party teasing you, as you yanked yourself away from them, and pulled towards him.

“Whoa! You’re gonna break your knees..” he lunged forward, caught you swiftly up into his arms, pulling you up, then shifting your weight onto your legs. He held you there, but could see you swaying. He held back a laugh, tucked your chin between his thumb and index finger.

“schatz…” he spoke softly as he held you closer, your chests touching, one arm wrapped around you.

“’m okay!” You held a hand up in the air. More so towards him than your friends hysterically laughing in the car behind you. Most of them were staring at him. Attempting to get any peak of his face.

He nodded gently towards them, made his voice a little deeper, huskier— “Thank you guys, goodnight.”

Another fit of giggles.

Annoying. You freed yourself underneath him and walked towards the door, him trailing behind you, which quickly shifted next to you because of how much you swayed. He chuckled as he put an arm over your shoulder and opened the door.

You walked towards the kitchen, opening the refrigerator, then proceeded to gulp down one of the cold water bottles in there. You gulped the last drop and then turned around.

His face mask had been taken off. He was biting his lip, trying not to laugh, his fingers lightly drumming on the countertop.

“What?” Were you that drunk? You spoke in an accusatory tone.

He scoffed, eyeing at you. You weren’t going to come at him with that attitude,

“You don’t even have the shoes that you left with on.” He laughed.

You looked down, the dress shoes you had worn were not on your feet.

He proceeded to mimic your voice, “I’m gonna have 3 adios motherf-“

You cut him off. He wasn’t going to have the opportunity to make fun of you, not in this state.

“Shuuuuuut up, what’s up with the face mask?” You laid back against the steel fridge, the coolness feeling good against your back. Somewhat trying to regain composure. Holding the water bottle close to your cheek, to hide away any evidence of redness. Now it was his turn to blush.

“Your friends.. like a little mystery, I’m happy to offer that to them.” he smirked, clearly aware that your friends had begged and begged to see him, but never had the opportunity to catch a glimpse of his face in person. He became so vain once you told him about how they oohed and ahhed about him. You smiled, he needed a little attention. And you liked that he gained it.

Now it was your turn. You made the best impression of him. You made your voice huskier, as deep as it could go —

“Ohhhhh, thank you guys gooodnight!” “Really König— we get it. Six foot fucking seven and your deep voice.”

He burst out laughing, shaking his head, the corner of his eyes forming crinkles, hiding beneath his hand.

“You’re so ridiculou-“ he cut you off.

“Have you ever been told how much of a little brat you are?” He spoke a little deeper now, his voice still full of admiration, he smirked, his voice echoed down the hallway. He came closer to you, holding your chin between his fingers again.

He could kiss you— you looked so disheveled, your makeup running across your eyes, your hair matted on your head. Some of your clothes had been tidier and tighter when you left. He looked at your eyes, wondering how on earth you had continued to come back to him. Your head barely touched the bottom of his chin, you stood on your toes trying to get some affection but he drummed his fingers down the side of your waist, hauling you up the kitchen counter.

You sat, quiet and excited. How much it made you burst that he could pick you up and place you anywhere.

“So how was the bar?” He began, then turned to grab condiments out of the fridge, strawberry jelly, peanut butter, butter, and bread. He grabbed another water for you, opening the cap.

“It was good!” You sat there watching him prepare his favorite, a peanut butter & jelly banana sandwich.

“No one really got there until 2-3 hours after us,” You rambled on, telling him about how your friends peer pressured you into shot after shot. Which you didn’t mind, you needed a distraction. Small glimpses were thrown back to you, with eyebrows raised, lips pursed, and smirks as you animatedly told him about your night.

“I think the best part was when a group of barely turned 21 year olds tried to buy us a round” you didn’t make eye contact. You knew what you were doing.

“Kind of hilarious seeing them pool their money together to buy 5 shots.”

His right eyebrow raised. A small smile formed at his lips. He swiped a banana from the hanger, began slicing it at an angle. The way you like. You were going to be in big trouble for that comment.

He arranged the banana on top of the peanut butter on the warm bread, and began to spread jelly on the other. He cuts it diagonally, then swipes the oozing jelly off the end, sucking on his finger before handing it to you on a plate.

He put the stuff away, then settled his arms on either side of you. You chewed slowly, making eye contact with him. Smiling, wondering if you looked innocent enough. Then took another bite, jelly getting caught on the corner of your mouth, before you could even grab with your tongue, he spoke low,

“Bet a 21 year old wouldn’t make you a sandwich, or keep you hydrated.” He got so close to your face, you practically felt the mint toothpaste from his breath on your tongue. Yup. You definitely struck a nerve.

He then proceeded to do the one thing you absolutely hate. He grabbed your face with one hand, then licked the corner of your mouth, followed by a firm kiss on your lips.

“I swear….to god!” You made it seem like it was disgusting, dramatically wiping your face, hiding the smile, sobering up slowly. You shoved the remaining bites of the sandwich in your mouth. He took the plate and placed it in the sink.

He hauled you up again, legs wrapped around his waist as he walked over to the bathroom, sat you down on the counter. Began removing your shoes, clothes, then he picked up the “melt” cleanser you used (he called melt because it melted in your fingers) and began to rub it in.

You closed your eyes. König could be so soft with you. He was surprisingly gentle with your face, rubbing in circular motions, gently swiping underneath your eye and eyelid, then grabbed a washcloth to take it off. Put the second cleanser in your hands, he walked into the bedroom.

As you finished the routine, he came back with warm pajamas for you. You held them in your hands… “Did you place these in the dryer?”

He shrugged, picking up all of your hair in a scrunchie.

“Come on babe, brush your teeth and get ready.” He said softly. A small pat to your bum.

You were definitely sobering up now, as you brushed your teeth, admiring the way he collected the hair away from your face.

He had laid on his side of the bed, both arms behind his head, leaving your side open. The side of your nightstand had a hydration packet with another cold water bottle. You slipped in.

But of course, he needed the last word.

“A 21 year old wouldn’t have done all this. As a matter of a fact I think they would’ve let you go to sleep drunk.”

“König…”

“A 21 year old,” he scoffed, “you should be ashamed.”

He leaned in towards you, cupped your face in his right hand, and deeply kissed you. Rubbing the side of your face, a small moan came out from him. He looked at you with so much admiration and love, happy you were back home.

A small smile from him, his lips parted as he began,

“A 21 year—“

“Oh my god goodnight” you bury yourself beneath his arm as he laughs uncontrollably.

“Goodnight schatz.”

[temptacioun]

yandere ! ryomen sukuna

requested by anon

prompts: “do you think i like hurting you? because i fucking love it.” “you’re so cute when you’re struggling.”

for a long time the curse had wondered what he felt about you. a mere annoyance at first, when he was forced to listen to your squeaky voice whenever the brat was talking to you. a form of amusement when he noticed the crush the pinkette had on you and the fun he found in embarrassing him. a strange feeling of possession, when you got into a relationship with his host.

love? no. but endearment, while you were laying on your back, stark naked and crying for him to leave you alone. cheeks decorated with red handprints, thighs poked by his sharp nails with bloody streaks over your pretty little tits. maybe he did find you pretty like this, covered in blood and bruises.

“do you think i like hurting you? because i fucking love it.” now that was something he loved. your squeaky voice didn’t sound as annoying when it came out in little whimpers and cries — begging him “please, please stop—” so sweetly. how could he not completely violate you? the brat screaming in his head was just an added bonus.

your face wasn’t as annoying like this either ; eyes red and puffy from crying, cheeks stained with tears and lips slick with spit. his own curl up into a grin at the sight, watching you twist and writhe — trying so hard to get out of the rope around your wrists and rubbing your skin sore in the process.

“you’re so cute when you’re struggling.” struggling would be an understatement, but he did love mocking your pain. maybe if he was human he’d actually sympathize with you, but he’s not and he won’t. not when his cock inside you felt so good, not when he presses his hand down your stomach to feel it bulge with his length.

not when your pretty cries sounded so sweet in his ears, he couldn’t possibly stop.

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

Number eight with Azriel please!

Hi, love! Here you go. A mishmash of angst, fluff and smut. Hope you enjoy!

Number eight: “I want my mate to tell me where the hell he was. Then he can get his comfort.”

Warnings: Depictions of toxic family relationships. Smut. 🌶️

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

“Are you alright?”

A warm hand landed on your arm, the pleasant scent of Mor’s perfume hitting you. The hint of vanilla was a source of comfort, a feeling of home.

Over your shoulder, you offered her a smile that didn’t meet your eyes. Nodded. She saw right through it.

Nobody understood better than she did — what it was like to return to the poison of the Court of Nightmares, where your estranged family lived. It had taken you years to get out of their vitriolic clutches, and the unexpected mating bond between you and the High Lord’s spymaster had been a saving grace; a reason to leave, a place to go. Life had been so colourful and vibrant since he’d taken you to live in Velaris with him; you’d never looked back. 

Until tonight. 

It had been entirely your choice. You knew nobody would have judged you if you’d chosen to stay behind. But a couple of months earlier, you’d grown sick of feeling useless and idle. You’d asked — begged — Rhysand to give you some sort of official role in his court; something for you to do. He’d been more than happy for you to play courtier, to perhaps even strengthen relations between the Night Court and the Court of Nightmares that had become strained over the years. Yes, you’d insisted, you could do it, and take away that sort of pressure from Mor, too. You’d sooner face your family than she have to face hers.

And perhaps you’d been a tad naive about how easily that might come to you. You’d had confidence in yourself, right up until you’d come face-to-face with your father, your brothers. They’d sneered at you at Azriel’s side and sneered at the Night Court attire you were decked head-to-toe in and sneered at your confidence. And sneered and sneered and sneered.

And suddenly you’d found yourself to be that cowering, tongue-tied victim again. You felt like an utter farce, parading around in such clothes and pretending to be confident. You weren’t sure you’d ever really gotten away from them, or ever really would. 

And when your brother had feigned leaning in to kiss your cheek, and had uttered words that had sliced you all over, you’d known — you had failed. 

“Whore.” He’d growled, his lip curling at the form-fitting, revealing dress you’d once felt comfortable in. “Mother would be ashamed of you, whore.”

You didn’t know if anybody else around you had heard. But the way your mate had tensed was indication enough that he was on high alert and ready to strike out if necessary. He remained that way for the entire evening.

You turned to face Mor, now, all of you having returned to the Town House. You didn’t bother to force a convincing tone as you answered, “I’m alright.”

“Let’s open some wine.” Her arm linked through yours, and she tried to pull you towards the doors to the kitchen. You planted your feet.

“Where is Az?”

The beautiful blonde pursed her lips, glancing over at Rhys and Cassian, who had also heard your question. You stared between the three of them, awaiting an answer. Your mate was nowhere to be found; had disappeared after setting you down on the doorstep.

“Where’s Azriel?” You repeated.

“He’s probably gone flying — to let off some steam.” Cassian said, not sounding at all convinced by his own words.

You heaved a sigh. What you needed, right now, was your mate with you. To hold you through the echoes of what had been an awful night. His absence was just another horrible layer. 

“Come.” Mor tried to pull on your arm again.

“I’m really tired.” You slunk back. “I think I’m just going to head to bed.”

Her gaze swept over you for a moment, before she nodded, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “Sleep well, then.”

It was as you passed Rhys and Cassian that you stopped, utter exhaustion weighing you down.

“When he gets back,” you said, “tell him to just come to bed. Please.”

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Hours passed. You didn’t sleep. Couldn’t. And still Azriel did not return. 

You’d settled yourself at the glass doors that opened out onto the balcony, noting that you were as cold there as you had been in your empty bed, without a hard, warm body and wings to warm you. You tugged on that golden, glimmering cord of your bond, waiting for some response. But…nothing. Anxiety bloomed in you like nothing you’d ever felt. 

It shaped a little into anger when you finally glimpsed a passing black form and, moments later, heard the front door opening and shutting downstairs. Relief was a weak flame snuffed out by irritation. Perhaps a little bit of hurt. 

You caught the deep tenor of the three male voices below, deliberately lowered to make their words indiscernible. Perhaps it was that which snapped your tether and had you pushing to your feet. If he wasn’t going to come up and speak to you right away, give you some sort of explanation as to why he’d taken off and blocked you out, you would go to him and demand the answer.

You shucked a robe on, practically ripping your bedroom door off its hinges. There was a pause in the murmurs below, and you knew Rhys, Cassian and Azriel had all heard you leave your room and were awaiting your appearance. You hoped your footsteps padding loudly down the stairs were warning enough that you weren’t happy. 

As you appeared in the doorway to the sitting room, all three males looked up. Azriel’s eyes swept over you — your nightgown and robe — and he looked just about ready to jump up and shield you from sight. You held a hand up, cutting that thought off before it could properly form.

“Don’t even start with the territorial male bullshit.” You said coldly. “No one’s staring at my tits.”

Both Cassian and Rhys cleared their throats, very deliberately making sure that their gazes were anywhere but on you. Azriel’s jaw ticked as you turned to him.

“Where have you been?” You demanded.

He said nothing, his eyes boring into yours. You raised an eyebrow in expectation, but it was Cassian who spoke up.

“…it’s been a long, tense night for everyone.” He reasoned. “Visiting the Court of Nightmares is never a pleasant experience. What you both need right now is each other’s comfort. Surely you just want to forget about tonight and—”

“I want my mate to tell me where the hell he was.” You snapped, not tearing your eyes from Azriel. “Then he can get his comfort.”

Cassian slunk back in seat, raising his eyebrows as he lifted his glass to his lips, drained it, and then reached for the bottle. You folded your arms over your chest, waiting.

Finally, Azriel shrugged. “I went back to the Hewn City to have a catch-up with my wonderful brother-in-law.”

You clenched your jaw. “Why.”

“Because he’s a cunt.”

You almost flinched at the utter venom in his tone. He was always soft-spoken, always guarded, precise and measured in the words he used. It wasn’t like him to just…let his anger speak for him.

“I didn’t ask you to do that.” You stared at him. “Why would you—”

“Nobody talks to — or about — my mate like that.” He seethed. “Nobody.”

So he’d heard exactly what your brother had said. And he’d bided his time — before striking. 

And of course, a part of you, somewhere beneath the anger, adored him even more for it. But it would just make things worse in the long run. It would make it harder for you to return to the Hewn City and represent the Night Court without your family seeing it as their personal mission to terrorise you whenever they could. You’d left to get away from that. To grow.

“So…what?” You shrugged. “You killed him?”

Azriel stared at you, his eyes molten. “I could have done, you know. The Mother knows, I wanted to. But that kill is yours, should you ever want it. I just took the time to remind him that his death could come a lot sooner if he chooses to disrespect you like that.”

“You had no right, Azriel—”

“He called you a—”

“I know precisely what he called me. What he said.” You spat. “I grew up around it. I’m used to it. But you’ve gone and made it worse.”

Az’s jaw clenched. “How.”

“Do you know what they think?” A lump formed in your throat that you swallowed down hard. “They think me weak and foolish. They think you seduced me away from them. They think that I was brought to the Night Court merely to service you, and Cassian and Rhys.” 

You took a shuddering breath, your eyes pricking with tears. “And those thoughts? I couldn’t care less about them. They’re pathetic, and they mean nothing to me. But I do care that they think I’m weak. I care that they think me too much of a pathetic, cowering female to speak up for myself, because I’m not.”

Azriel’s eyes softened. “I know you’re not.”

“But by dealing with my brother on my behalf, you’ve only confirmed that for them. It’ll only make it ten times worse the next time I visit.”

You could see understanding dawning in his eyes. And a rational part of you knew that he’d acted on the carnal impulse of a male protecting his mate — that he hadn’t stopped to think about any of this. That he loved you.

But you…you couldn’t give over to that rationality right now. Not when you were still so angry, still so shaken by what had happened. You didn’t blame Azriel for wanting to protect you; to act without speaking to you first, however, made you feel as weak as your family thought you to be. 

You wiped your tears away, shaking your head. “I’m going to bed.” 

“I’ll come with you—”

“No.” You turned. “Stay and enjoy your drink.”

The words hit their mark, and you saw the scathing hurt in his eyes as he slumped back. You’d probably regret it later. 

But in that moment, you were too tired to care.

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Despite your exhaustion, sleep didn’t find you properly. You drifted in and out fitfully, every little noise seeming to jolt you awake. Every single time, you found yourself glancing over to the empty space beside you.

You weren’t sure how long you lay there for, but your anger steadily morphed into loneliness, and trying to sleep without Az curled around you left you feeling as empty and cold as arguing with him had. You hated fighting with him.

And you knew he’d meant well. That he’d just been defending you because he loved you. Already, you were wishing you hadn’t been so hard on him. 

You jerked awake again as you heard the door slowly creak open. You watched through heavy eyes as Azriel filed in, making a conscious effort to be as quiet as possible — before noticing you were awake.

He studied you for just a moment, and then dragged his feet to the end of the bed. He slumped down onto his front, his long body stretching from the foot of the bed, right up to where you lay. You watched, allowing him to slot himself between your legs. He rested his head on your belly.

“I’m sorry.” He murmured, pressing a kiss against it. He gazed up at you through thick, dark lashes. “Really sorry.”

You breathed a soft sigh, your hand reaching out to brush strands of hair from his face. “I’m sorry, too.”

“What could you possibly have to be sorry for?”

You shrugged. Your fingers toyed absentmindedly with his hair as you said, “I shouldn’t have been so hard on you. I know you were only defending me.”

“I was blinded by my own rage at your brother, though. I should have thought more about how you felt. You must never, ever think yourself weak. You’re the furthest thing from it.”

A soft smile played on your lips. Az’s chin dug into your lower belly as he peered up at you, his fingers brushing indolent circles on your outer thighs. Your own eyes were hooded as you stared back at him — your mate. You loved him so ferociously. 

He hadn’t even thought twice about defending you, even against a baseless insult. 

“I really am sorry.” He pressed another kiss to the soft skin of your belly, the muscles there contracting at the sensation. “It’s such an honour for me to defend you that I sometimes forget you don’t need me to.” 

“Don’t get me wrong, Az.” You watched him — watched his nose graze the silk of your nightgown. “I love it when you stand up for me. And had that been anyone else, I would have left you to it. But with them, it’s just…complicated. I suppose I still feel like I have something to prove.”

“You don’t. But it’s going to take time for you to realise that.” His tongue poked out, licking the fabric of the indentation where your belly button was. “You know, don’t you? That what your brother said was ridiculous. The only people your mother would feel disappointed in are them.”

Your breath hitched at the sensation of his tongue moving through the fabric. You tried to stay your thoughts, to remain on subject. “I…I know.”

“You’re incredible.” He shifted down, pulling your nightgown up as he did. “Beautiful.” He pressed a kiss to your now-exposed navel. “Strong.”

The cold air of the room brushed over your bare sex, and you jerked as Az nuzzled his face against your fine dusting of hair just above. He grazed his lips there, breathing in your scent. 

“Why don’t you come to bed?” You breathed, brushing his hair back. “It’s late. You must be tired.”

“Mm.” He hummed. “After I’ve apologised.”

You had no objections as he finally dipped his head, levelling his face with the very centre of you. His eyes flicked up momentarily to meet yours, and then he dove in.

Your head fell back, a low moan escaping you as his tongue swiped out and licked a stripe right up you, from your entrance, up, up to your clit. He kissed the area first, his lips a sensuous scrape against the sensitive nub of nerves. Your hips lifted off the bed, and he slid his hand up, pressing them back down. 

“I love you.” He breathed the words onto the damp heat of you — a place he had worshipped time and time before, and would continue to do so as the world and its stories changed around you.

“I love you too.” You breathed, and another moan broke from your throat as his tongue swirled around your clit. “Gods, Az.”

You felt him smile against you, and you utterly melted into the bed as he began his expert worship of your body, always knowing which areas drew which sensations from you, which touches had you moaning the loudest.

His tongue built up its pace, working at your clit as he slipped a hand down, gathering up your wetness on his fingers. He slipped one into you, pumping a few times, curling it inside you, and you gasped.

“Another?” He murmured against you, teeth grazing just slightly.

A small whimper left you. “Yes. Yes.”

And so he slipped a second finger in, and you were happy to give over to every sensation in your body as he began to pump in and out, his fingers moving in tandem with his tongue. Tension coiled low in your stomach, a dull, pleasant ache that was building and building until your legs were trembling. 

“Az.” You groaned, hips lifting again. “Fuck, I’m gonna…”

“Take it.” He lapped at you, lapped and lapped as if he might never get another taste. “Take everything you need. Cum for me.”

Only a few more thrusts of his fingers, a few more strokes of his tongue, and you were tumbling off that precipice into place of weightless elation, stars bursting in your eyes, your ears ringing, your body shaking. Az continued to lick and stroke you through it all, murmuring encouraging, soothing words.

And when the force of your climax subsided, and you were utterly spent, he pulled his fingers out of you. Sucked your wetness from them. And then climbed up the bed to lay beside you.

He was very clearly hard as a rock, the outline of his straining cock visible. You made to reach for him, but he gently took your hand.

“No.” He said softly. “This was about you. We have tomorrow. And the day after that.” He leaned down, kissing your head. “And all the ones after that. But now it’s time for sleep.”

You didn’t protest as he lay properly beside you, tugging you against him and pulling the blankets around you. His fingers laced through yours, both your hands resting on your stomach. 

“I’m so proud of you.” He whispered into the darkness, kissing the nape of your neck. “So fucking proud.”

You smiled, relaxing into him. Closed your eyes.

You were just drifting off as you heard him murmur, beneath his breath: 

“My mate. My entire world.”

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azriel tag list: @hanasakr @positivewitch @ruler-of-hades @brekkershadowsinger @nightscourtt @imperfect0angel @luna-1-3-5 @hyacinthoideshispanica @lucyysthings @lahoete @littlemoonash @blacksstarrynight @azriels-mate123 @ghostly-poetic @frieddesigninspiringquotesslime @a-frog-with-a-laptop @illyriansimp @morrie-rose @passingthroughfireandshadow @illyrian-dreamer @azrielsbabyg @96jnie @mich0731 @mulansaucey @truthtellerfanclub @acourtofbooksandmagic @insightsonmylife @basicbittywitty @curbside-cyanide @acourtofchaosandmess @123345566 @starrynights-frostbites @eos-princess @thesillyyogourt @ona-raising-07-l @acediahamartia @dontfollowmepleaseitsannoying @polli05927 @asdfjklbooks @azriel-luvr @amysangel @humanpersonlasttimeichecked @wildflowernightmere

[kissingghouls]

hi ghouls! so sorry you've had such a rubbish weekend. i hope this week is much brighter for you 🫂💕

for the ~cute interactions~ prompts: maybe something with mary holding hands/playing with each other's fingers? my mary heart yearns for something soft 😭 sending you love 💕

oh boy. This one got away from me more than once and now I've got several Mary WIPs in the folder. more Goore '24 continues I suppose. @sakuraspoke - you can absolutely have some soft Mary my beloved. thank you so much for the kind words 🖤🖤🖤

2 a.m. - Mary Goore x gn!Reader

established relationship, he/they Mary, darlin & babe used for Reader. a little suggestive but no real warnings. just 850-ish words of fluff and kissin' div by @gothdaddyissues 🖤🖤🖤

It’s late when Mary quietly tiptoes into your apartment and moves through the shadows. They’re trying not to make any noise, taking slow but giant steps to avoid the creaking spots in the floorboards while balancing that ridiculously heavy guitar case. But your boyfriend—sweet as his is—has always been blessed with more charm than grace and it’s a good thing you weren’t really asleep anyway.

You stir from your spot on the sofa, lit by the soft glow of some gruesome true crime story playing on the television. The sudden movement startles them and sends them stumbling over their own feet in a comical display of flailing limbs. He lands with a loud thud as one of his boots flies across the room, the other still secured to his foot.

A sheepish smiles creeps across his face as he looks up at you from the floor. “I’m sorry, babe,” he whispers, trying desperately not to laugh at his own clumsiness. “I was trying not to wake you.”

“It’s ok,” you reply sleepily. I wasn’t sleeping.”

He nods and returns to the task of taking off his other shoe. “What’re you doing out here on the couch?”

“Just watching TV.”

He grins and shakes a few messy strands of hair away from his face. “Are you waiting up for me?”

You give a noncommittal shrug as he crawls on hands and knees, dragging himself the short distance across the floor to reach you. He comes to rest with a groan, leaning against the sofa as he stretches his legs as far as he can after a ridiculously busy day.

“Ugh, I’ve been standing for like, twelve hours.”

“Poor baby,” you hum and run a hand through their hair. There’s no teasing is your statement. You know Mary hates days like this. You hate days like this, hate seeing them so exhausted they’re literally crawling on the floor. “Wanna come sit with me?”

They shake their head. “Can’t move. Plus, I kinda smell disgusting darlin.”

“I kinda don’t care, Goore.”

“Your funeral,” he grunts as he stands.

He throws himself over you, wedging his skinny hips between your back and the sofa. His skin is slightly sticky with old sweat and fake blood, shirt still damp from playing in a bar where ventilation is more of a joke. Most of that cologne you like is covered by the thick smell of smoke and beer, but you couldn’t care less now that he’s home. As he drapes an arm around your middle, you lace your fingers with his.

“Better?” you ask.

Mary tightens his grip and buries his face in your hair, inhaling deeply. “Mmph, you smell nice.”

“Makes one of us.”

“Hey, I tried to warn you.  Not my fault you didn’t listen.”

Across the room, the narrator of a different program begins to talk about happier things while you lose yourself in the comfort of just being next to Mary. You run your fingertips over the thick calluses on his hands, appreciating every little piece of your boyfriend—the rough spots and the sweet spots and everything in between. It doesn’t matter how late it is or how dirty his clothes currently are. You live for the little moments like this, the times where you’re the only two people in the universe and the world outside your apartment no longer exists. You’d stay here forever if you could, but reality is cruel and one of you should probably be a realist.

He groans as you press your thumbs into his palm and start to massage away the aches he’s kept quiet for the last week at least.

“Fuuuuck,” he whines quietly. “I don’t deserve you.”

“I think you deserve the world, Mary Goore.”

They laugh lightly, breath tickling your ear. “I dunno, I might just start with a shower.”

“Fine,” you grumble. “Can you just stay here a little longer first?”

“I’m never going anywhere.”

“Promise?”

He pulls you closer, turning his hand over to lock his fingers with yours. “To our graves, darlin. Then I’m gonna haunt you.”

“That might be the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Hmm, romantic enough to get you to shower with me?”

“Yeah, I think you’ve earned it.”

“Heh. I mean it though, you know.”

“What? That you wanna take a shower together?” you tease.

“Well, yeah. But forever, I mean. You and me.”

“Mary,” you start quietly, voice shaking as you fight tears.

“I know, I know. Marshmallow Goore.”

“I love you.”

“Yeah?” they ask, and you can hear the smile in their voice.

A soft “mmhmm” is all you can manage as you nod.

“Good, because I really fuckin’ love you, darlin.”

You scramble to turn in his arms, lips crashing together in a clumsy and desperate effort to get even closer to each other. They bring their hands to your face as tongues clash and your legs begin to tangle in the ensuing rush. It’s hurried and heated, too excited to be anything else and too soul-bearingly honest for any more words. There’s barely space for breaths between each kiss, the two of you left dizzy and lightheaded all the way to your bathroom.

I just wanna add a thank you to everyone who's sent prompts & requests. I'm having fun learning how to make things in these shorter forms between my normally huge projects. I might properly open up requests in the future if anyone is interested?