#and have been having trouble getting to sleep the past couple days which is usually never an issue for me

[mcdolann]

pretty sure i’m manic rn fuck sake

[rhysazriel]

Feel My Touch [Azriel]

SUMMARY: After Azriel left you high and dry one night, he’s left with the task of coaxing you out of your subspace. (4.2k)

WARNINGS: kissing, teasing, swearing, smut, dirty talk, dom/sub relationship, unprotected sex, very brief mentions of daddy kink 

A/N: in my humble opinion, Azriel and subspace should always go hand in hand together, he is a dom!!

You’d been feeling a little soft the past couple of days. Azriel had been busy most days with gathering information against the mortal queens, leaving you to your own devices until the sun allowed the moon to shine and he loved on you a little. 

You’d been patient, to say the least, and last night he took his frustrations from the day out on you and offered no aftercare to follow.

It was something he’d done (or rather, hadn’t) a few times, but only when he had a bad day or he needed to teach you a lesson – when you’d been a bad girl. Well, you’d been a very good girl so you were awfully confused last night when Azriel fell asleep moments after slipping out of you; not offering any love or care that he usually showered you with after.

You were unable to sleep – too caught in your own head trying to figure out what you did to upset him. Did you forget to do something? Did you say something you wasn’t supposed to? You didn’t know. What you did know was that Azriel very rarely used his real dominant side unless you were in big trouble or he’d had a real bad day.

That strict rule he’d set on himself meant you’d only been in subspace once or twice before and it’d always been something to massively worry Azriel. He was used to seeing his love be this independent, badass female that didn’t let people boss you around. Not watching you mope after him with teary doe eyes and a permanent pout in your bottom lip.

But when you have one of those nights where he is ruthless and mean and doesn’t follow through with any aftercare, you’re left to coil into yourself and drown in this dark hole of submission where you feel like a tiny person that needs constant reassurance and love.  

You’d always been affectionate; you both were–Azriel more so secretly–but when you were in that turmoil state, it was worse. You’d seem like a child that leeched onto his limbs and wanted to sit in his lap while sucking on his fingers as he read a book. You never truly realised you did those things in your sub head because you seemed to disassociate from yourself and into a childlike mindframe.

The first time it happened, Azriel made the situation worse. He thought that by showering you with affection and love, he’d be able to coax you out of it. Unfortunately, it shoved you deeper into your dark hole and took almost three days to get you back to your normal state and frame of mind.

The second time it happened, he tried another approach. He was harsh and mean and demanded that you snapped out of it. It only made you coil into yourself more and for hours, all you could say was, “I’m sorry, Az. I’m sorry I was bad, please don’t hate me!” to which, Azriel’s heart broke and he coaxed you out of it again with a little more love and affection.

Maybe that was why he didn't like to delve too far into the kink very often. He much preferred you as your vibrant and independent self and if he was honest, seeing you in such a subby and insecure state had bile rising up his throat. He hated knowing that he rendered you to a helpless state outside of the bedroom. 

He’d had a long week and he knew he probably should have coddled you to his chest last night and reminded you he loved you, but he was fucking spent and when he awoke this morning to go back out again, you were still fast asleep and he didn’t want to wake you.

He hoped to come home to you lounging on the sofa with some snacks or wine waiting for him. But when he rolled home at 7:30 and kicked his shoes off at the door, he was greeted with the complete opposite. There was no warm scent of cookies wafting through the house and the sofa was bare with the cushions placed neatly; like you hadn’t sat down in hours.

Azriel made his way closer into the house with furrowed brows and a twitching nose. He could very clearly smell garlic and a cheesy hint of tomato sauces and meatballs. When he crept into the kitchen, he found you dishing up two plates of your homemade spaghetti and meatballs and popping little garlic dough balls into a side dish.

Your dining table was decorated with wax candles and two tall glasses of wine, the good cutlery put out by their placemats and Azriel was certain he could also smell a hint of caramel chocolate that you’d no doubt baked a cake from. 

His brows were still furrowed as your back stayed turned to him. Your hair was thrown in a messy nest atop your head and you were in nothing but a pair of tube socks and one of his dress shirts.

“What��s all this?” he coughed out to clear his throat and catch your attention. You had both plates in your hands as you spun around with slightly widened eyes and a big, toothy smile. 

“You’re home!” You squeaked, placing the dishes of piping food on the placemats. You reached for him on your tiptoes, pressing a longing kiss to his chapped lips and he kissed back but didn’t let his eyes close like yours did.

“I am, what’s the occasion?” he asked again, hands on your hips as you wrapped your little arms around his broad shoulders. 

His dress shirt rode up your body as you stretched and he could feel the delicate skin of your hips and soft material of your cotton underwear beneath his palm.

You seemed to blush at the question, avoiding making eye contact with him but Azriel tried to chase your line of vision to force it upon you. You tried to shimmy out of his grip but Azriel wouldn’t  have any of it. He gently pinched your jaw with a bent pointer finger beneath your chin and a thumb hovering across your bottom lip.

His head dipped to get a better look at you. There was a barely familiar look in your eyes and it was only when Azriel really looked that he noticed the perk pout in your lips. He should’ve known the second he saw you that something wasn’t right. 

You never pranced around the house in his shirt unless you were sick or  having a lounge day – neither of which were currently happening.

His shadows finally allowed themselves to circle your chest and up to your neck, a few straying to your arms before they returned back to their master. 

You were in subspace.

Azriel let out a soft sigh and closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the weight of his wings droop on his back. He knew this was his fault, that he basically shoved you down into that little mindset last night when he left you to sort yourself out and didn’t kiss you goodnight. He knew you were  feeling needy and just wanted to please him.

“Baby…” he cooed, both hands cupping the sides of your face and your plump lips squished slightly between his hold. 

“I don’t want you to be mad at me anymore,” you murmured in a slight whine, like the words were stuck in your throat and you were too scared to mutter them out.

Azriel leaned down and kissed softly at your mouth, nudging the tip of his nose against your own. Brushing stray chunks of hair from your face, he pulled back just enough to allow you to look at him. 

“I’m not mad at you, my love. I never was,” he told you in a gentle tone. His words were spoken in a soft drawl – slower than usual to stress how much you needed to listen to him.

You let out a pathetic whine and tears started to pool in your eyes. You wanted to argue that he was, that surely you’d done something to upset him for him to act the way he had. 

Azriel seemed to know what was running through your head. Like you were too worried to speak in case you angered him further or he punished you. 

Punished you outside of the bedroom. Something he’d never done and never would. 

“But I made you dinner to apologise. I’m sorry, I swear I didn’t mean to make you mad,” you pouted in a frantic state, like you were desperate to show that whatever you did to warrant the cold shoulder after sex last night, you didn’t mean it and you were sorry.

Azriel shook his head and kissed you again. “You didn’t make me mad, angel. You never make me mad,” he mumbled against your lips. 

The look in your eyes suggested you didn’t believe him. That perhaps you were telling yourself that his gentle tone was a trap. That he’d shower you with affection before neglecting you again, right when you believe he wouldn’t. 

“I was mean last night. I didn't take care of you after, did I?” he tried to encourage you to agree, to get you to nod your head but you stayed silent.

“It’s okay, my love. I’m not mad at you, could never be mad at you, baby,” he shushed you. Azriel released his hold on your cheeks and coddled you into his warm chest, pressing comforting kisses to the top of your head as your arms wrapped around his middle.

You didn’t seem to believe him, worried that maybe he was just saying that to coax you to warm back up to him before he punished you. Maybe as soon as you start smiling he’d throw you over his knees and give you a spanking. You were unsure if that’s what your subby mind wanted or not.

Azriel pulled you out of his grasp and held your face again. There was denial swimming in your eyes. You didn’t believe that you had done anything wrong – you didn’t think you deserved to be let off the hook. Azriel squinted and tilted his head a little, trying to read what was going through your head.

Do you want to be punished? Wouldn’t that just shove you further into your submissive headspace?

He knew you, it was best not to entertain the thought of Azriel being above you—being dominant—being daddy. Every other time he’d snapped you from your subspace, he’d had to remind you that he didn’t want his little girl – that he wanted his baby, his fiancé, his strong and independent female. 

He had to remind you that he was Azriel and he wouldn’t respond to you if you didn’t address him as such. But he also had to be careful. If he didn’t go about it the right way, you could fall deeper and it was the last thing he wanted.

He leaned down to kiss at your lips again but you didn’t kiss him back. You didn’t think you should be allowed to. Azriel frowned, his lips smearing against your closed mouth. 

“Why won’t you kiss me back, baby? Just want some kisses,” he pleaded softly, nose bumping yours and he coaxed tiy to open up; to kiss him back just as gently.

“That’s better…” he breathed. 

You let yourself sink into the kiss, your arms wrapping back around his neck as your chest bumped with his. Azriel still had his hands on the sides of your flushed face and they sunk down your body in tender holds. His palms rested on the little dips in your hips as he pulled you closer. Your neck craned up to meet his kisses and he dipped down to keep your touch intact.

An idea sparked in Azriel’s head and his grip on your hips loosened. His hands snaked around to the front of your (his) shirt and he began unbuttoning it from the bottom to the top. You don’t break the kiss or comment on his advances. You let him have his way with you, do what he pleased because you thought this was it: your punishment was just beginning.

But oh, how wrong you were. 

When the shirt slipped from your shoulders and swam at your ankles, goosebumps broke across the surface of your soft skin. Your nipples pearled and they scratched against the material of his leathers. The sensation caused a careless whimper to slip from your mouth, and into his. Azriel tried not to grin at the noise and let his warm, scarred hands run up the expanse of your bare back.

“Feel good, baby?” he mumbled into your mouth, hot tongue sliding against yours and you hummed again, welcoming his heavy taste of coffee and mint. 

Your mind was in a state of turmoil. Was he going to punish you? Was this his way of proving he wasn’t mad? What was he going to do? You can’t think straight.

You nod your head, kissing back with just as much vigour as you could but Azriel slowed the pace, wanting you to just feel him. 

“Just taste my lips,” he guided. 

His mouth moved slowly across yours, touch barely there but enough for you to feel him, to taste him. The gentleness of his touch helped to clear your mind to a state of blankness where you had nothing but him.

From the thumping of the bond that tugged on his chest, Azriel knew what word was festering on the tip of your tongue. His mouth barely caressed you as his left hand came up to massage your jaw. 

“Azriel,” he corrected you before you even spoke, his words a breathless whisper. He didn’t let his eyes close and you didn’t let yours open.

He watched you keen for more, to get a stronger taste and he felt you shiver in just your underwear and tube socks. Azriel allowed his hand to wander to the backs of your thighs before hoisting your small frame into his arms. Your legs wrapped instinctively around his middle, minding the expanse of his wings, and with his lips still on yours, he carried you through the hall and into the bedroom.

He didn't throw you on the bed like you expected. Instead, Azriel slowly eased you back on the balls of your feet while keeping his tongue against your own. 

“Daddy,” you mewled as he backed out of the kiss just enough to unbutton the lapels that contained his weapons to him. 

You felt the rough graze of the leather brush across your nipples and you expected him to blindfold you, to tie you up with the belt that holstered his weapons. But he let it fall to their ankles and you were left in another state of confusion. 

“Azriel,” he corrected you again, nosing at yours and tugging the leathers off his chest. Azriel guided your small hands to his torso, allowing the heat of his skin to warm yours. 

“I’m here, Y/N. Just feel my skin,” he encouraged in a soothing mutter.

He guided your hands across his chest and shoulders, coaxed you to squeeze and grope at his muscles and he started to swell harder in his pants when your thumb brushed over his nipples and fingers reached to lock in the tendrils of hair on the nape of his neck. With your mind and hands occupied on his body, Azriel took the opportunity to unbuckle his belt and slip out of his trousers.

He toed off his socks and kicked the clothing to the side; a prominent tent pitched in his boxers and you bravely let your hand fall further down his body. Your wrist knocked against his length through the cotton pants and he stifled a groan. “Please, daddy,” you whispered in a shaky tone against his lips and he could taste the cinnamon bagel you had for lunch.

He subtly shook his head against you, nose bumping yours as he eased you onto the bed – crawling between your parted legs and helping your head to lay back on his pillow. He knew his scent was encompassing your senses and boggling your mind. He also knew it was what would bring you back to him.

“Come on, Y/N,” he whispered softly. 

You’re swarmed by the darkness of his shadows that caress your skin, that whisper gentle reminders that he wasn’t made. Even through the shadows that swarmed you and the dim lighting of the bedroom, Azriel could still see your face – still make out your fluttering eyes beneath closed lids and he urged you to open them.

“Open your eyes, my love. Feel my touch,” he breathed.

His hips were gently rutting against yours, body keeping your thighs parted. Azriel reached a hand between your bodies. He didn’t want to break the touch to take off your underwear, so he opted to pull his aching cock from the waistband of his boxers instead. His tip was oozing with precum that he knew you loved to taste but you can do that later.

Azriel just wanted his love back.

He massaged your dripping core over your knickers, soaking the fabric as you whined desperately at him. Azriel peeled the fabric aside, thumbing at your swollen little clit and he felt your body jolt under his touch. “That's it,” he coaxed encouragingly, rubbing slow circles and you felt his cock bump at your entrance.

You let out a shallow shrill, one that was drowned by the silence of the room and he cooed at you. Azriel had one arm bent by the side of your head to hold up his weight and his hand was angled perfectly for him to brush strands of hair from your clammy forehead. “Gotta come back to me, Y/N. Gotta taste my lips and feel my skin, my love.”

You keen under his touch as Azriel dragged his thick cock to your weeping hole, feeling it flutter against his tip at the anticipation of intrusion. “Shh,” he cooed, circling your entrance before pushing in just a few inches. You gasped against his mouth, welcoming his tongue as he massaged his against yours.

He slowly sheathed in, vision dotted and he tried to muffle his belts of pleasure. You were clamping him down, walls soaked and warm and he felt so fucking snug in your tiny little cunt that stretched around him. 

“So good,” he praised, shuddering breaths across your face and your back arched, your chest out and into his.

“Daddy, please,” you mewled in a soft gasp, eyes wide open but you were staring straight through Azriel, like you didn’t really see him. He shushed you, rolling his lips deliciously and suckling on your tongue. “Come on, Y/N,” he guided. “Come back to me, love. Come back to Azriel.”

His hazel embers were drilling into yours in a gentle manner, like he was trying to get you to find the light in his eyes and swim to it. He tugged on that bond again, surging as much love and force as he could. 

He could feel your heart hammering against his chests and you were clawing at his back when your eyes met. “Yes,” You gasped as his cock hit against your precious little spongy spot.

Azriel grunted and panted above you, a sight so fucking holy toy thought you might’ve gone to heaven. But his thrusts were anything but angelic and his curls and wings were feigning devil horns above his head. 

“Azriel,” you choked, fingernails tearing into the taut skin of Azriel’s shoulders but he fucked into you harder at the mention of his name spilling weakly from your lips.

“That’s it. Just feel me, my love,” he grunted, slick sounds of your pussy squelching and his cock thrusting filled the air. Az’s chest was heavy on yours, a crushing weight that he couldn’t seem to hold up but the touch of his body on yours was what you needed. That push of guidance and pulling of grounding that knocked you into you right mindset.

“Azriel!” You cried again. 

Your voice was much harder, louder – you were more sure of yourself and him and where your mind was racing off to. Your eyes were still locked in an intense gaze and he didn’t know if your body was relaxing because you were close to your release or because you were out of your subby headframe.

You tugged back on that bond, finally, and Azriel could hear the pleads and cries of his name that you echoed through the bridge that connected your souls. 

“Cum for me, Y/N. Want you to cum all over my cock, baby. Come on.”

Azriel nipped at your bottom lip, let your tongue run across his gums and lick into his mouth. He could feel your thighs trembling from either side of his body and he kept going.

“Wanna cum! Please, please, please,” you begged, eyes frantic and wide. Azriel’s lips smeared against yours messily, cock sliding easily as you gripped him tighter and tighter. “Cum, baby. You don’t have to ask, just cum,” he promised.”

“Azriel! Fuck, Azriel!” 

Ecstasy washed over you with a shrill cry, eyes shut tight as Azriel met his own release and spilled into you hotly. You squirmed as he stilled, panting and frantic. Your hands were all over his clammy skin as you tried to regain a sense of consciousness.

Azriel’s hands looped around your face, shushing and cooing you to open your eyes, to come back to him. “Hey, shhh. Open your eyes, my love. Come on,” he spurred tenderly, tip of his nose nudging yours as your eyes slowly fluttered open. 

You blinked away the orgamsic blur and a toothy grin sat lazily on your lips.

He waited a beat, tried to decipher for himself whether or not you’d snapped out of it and was back with yourself. 

“Cauldron, you literally fucked it out of me,” you choked out a drunken giggle. 

Azriel let out a sighed laugh, head in the crook of your neck and your eyes were dazzling in post-orgasmic bliss.

“You’re a nightmare,” he joked into your chest, kissing his way up to your mouth. You offered an exhausted giggle, cheeks tinted pink from embarrassment of the underlying situation at hand. 

“I’m sorry, you know. Don’t know why I got like that,” you apologised. You felt a little silly, if you were honest, but Azriel never let you feel that way for long.

He shook his head and kissed your swollen lips again. “Don’t,” he said. “Was my fault for not making sure you were alright after. I normally do, I don’t know why I didn’t last night,” he admitted lowly. 

It was your turn to shake your head and scratch your blunt fingernails through his curls and at his scalp. “Not your fault, we both know how I get sometimes. Thank you, for snapping me out of it.”

Azriel kissed you softly, lips enveloped in a tired kiss as he slipped out of you, both of you hissing at the lack of warmth you offered each other. He sighed as he fell onto his back, sweaty chests cooling from the air. You coddled into his chest, his seed dripping from your sore cunt but you didn’t make any attempt to stop it.

Azriel snorted. “You’re dripping on the sheets.” 

You rolled your eyes at the comment and peeled your body away from his, sitting up to look between your parted thighs. Sure enough, there was a soaked patch just beneath you where arousal was starting to stick to the sheets.

You shrugged. “It’s your cum, not mine,” you argued playfully, shooting fake glares at the culprit. Azriel grinned cheekily at his love, reaching out for you so he could massage at your thigh the way he knew made you relax. 

“Well I do apologise,” he quipped in a playful tone and you hummed, playing into his mood.

“Mhm, you can change the sheets.” You leant down to kiss his cheek before hopping off the bed and padding nakedly to your bathroom. You switched on the light and allowed it to drown out into the bedroom so Azriel could see just how much mess you made. He couldn’t stop the blush that sat heavy on his cheeks.

You peered your head out of the bathroom and Azriel swore his heart fucking grew twice it’s size and he almost forgot how to breath. You had a shy smile on your lips and a look in your eye that he knew all too well. “I know you snapped me out of it but I still want to feel you… can we take a bath?” You asked, eyes hopeful as you gnawed on your bottom lip.

Azriel swallowed back the love that wanted to spew out of his mouth and nodded his head. “You can have anything you want, my love,” he sighed, dreamily. 

He followed you into the bathroom. When the water was drawn just enough and to the perfect temperature, you climbed in together with your back resting against his chest and Azriel’s lips pressed to your neck.

feedback is always appreciated!! <3

[spellboundstarlet]

SAILORS SONG — N. MÜHL

key; nika , reader

summary; just pure fluff and nika being a cutie pie!! the pair is shortly separated from each other due to reader visiting family. only one lyric from “sailors song” is used, but i do have several other ideas for this song, just leaving out a chunk of the chorus!

word count; 722 words

you'd been down in iowa for the past two weeks, visiting family. all while your poor girlfriend sat waiting for you in seattle. nearly every night you'd facetime, or atleast work a phone call into both of your tight schedules, but it was difficult being away from eachother. especially for nika.

nika was always on the more "clingy" side, and loved physical touch. but, ever since you'd moved with the girl from connecticut to washington, every second you were away from her felt like a second too long. she had you all to herself all the time, so you being nearly two thousand miles away was hard on her. and on top of that, the timezones of ames and seattle didn't match up. every night when you'd lay down for bed, it'd be nine for you, but seven for nika. which made this much harder on her.

you really did try. every single night, without fail, you would try your hardest to stay up for nika. during your "bedtime" she'd be at a team dinner, or late practice. the second she got home, it was only 8:30 pm' for her, but 10:30 pm' for you. she'd sit on her bed, watching as your eyes would flutter shut every couple minutes. you were tired. so she'd let you sleep, never once hanging up the phone. right after you, she'd head to sleep aswell. she couldn't bear seeing you look so peaceful, so precious, so hers, but not at the same time. she wanted you next to her.

in the morning, you would have already been up for almost three hours when nika gets up. right when you knew the girl would set her alarm for, you'd send a sweet "goodmorning baby, i miss you so much :((" to nika. the first text from you would set the tone for her whole day, and this one left her feeling pretty sappy.

"i miss you too, moje dijete. you'll be home soon, right?"

"yes, but i miss you now ☹️"

"i miss you now too, pretty. i have to go now, quinn is making us come in earlier than usual. let's hope we're not in trouble 🤞🏼🤞🏼."

"good luck, niks. i love you 💕"

"i love you more, i will text you when im done."

and she did. nika always kept her promises. thankfully she was able to facetime you during the day, when you and herself weren't consumed with sleep. the call was long, almost two hours. which didn't compare to the twenty six hours she was away from you.. but it would do until then. the call was sadly cut short when your mom had knocked on the door to tell you it was time to go over to see some cousins. goodbyes were said, and once again you were out of the brunettes reach.

that night was late for you. first, you were stuck watching all the younger kids which tired you out majorly. then, you had to help carry out your sister who'd drank one too many at the dinner table. and finally, you fell asleep in the car from pure exhaustion. the five minutes you took to move yourself from the car, to your bed, were not spent speaking to your girlfriend. she understood.

when nika headed to sleep, her dreams were filled with you. her head was on your pillow, your scent filled her senses, it was almost as if you were there. after her long day, she needed the soothing dreams of you next to her.

when she woke up to her newest goodmorning text from you, "two more days!! i can't wait to see you, baby!", she could only think of her dreams of you from the night prior.

"goodmorning !!"

"what's got you in such a good mood this morning, love to see it!"

"i had a dream about you :((("

"aww baby!! are you going to tell me about it?!"

"mhm, you were here with me. and we cuddled. i miss that so much."

"you're going to make me cry ☹️☹️"

"i've been doing that the last few days.."

"hmm.. doing what?"

"dreaming of you."

"yeah?"

"i sleep so i can see you, cause i hate to wait so long."

"nika!! i can't even :((( i love you so much baby."

"i love you more 🥹"

divs are by @/anitalenia , feedback encouraged , the cliffhanger on this one is just odd to me .. @bveckers @kmoneymartini @cosmopretty @charlottehughess @aubreygriffin @favreader23

[aemondapologistfrfr]

Let Me Show You

aegon x sister!reader x aemond 

The Usual Part 2 but can def be read alone!

Summary: Aegon and Aemond know they’re on your mind since the other night and take pleasure in watching you blush and avoid them. Aegon has a couple tricks for them to help you find sleep, which has been escaping you the past couple of days. 

Warnings: 18+ masturbation, oral(f + m receiving), p in v, orgasm denial, overstimulation, double penetration, swearing

Authors Note: no plot again :) like none x

Word Count: 2.4k 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

It’s only been a couple of days since our rendezvous in the pleasure house but it’s all I can think about. My cheeks burn every time I’m in their presence and they just smirk at me. I don’t know if they’re waiting for me to go up to them but I can’t seem to find the courage. I just avoid eye contact and hope they don’t feel my absolute want pouring off of my body. 

“The maester said you’ve been having trouble finding sleep?” our mother looks to me from across the dinner table. 

“Yes,” I clear my throat. “I may seek a sleeping draft tonight if it still escapes me.” my voice barely a whisper as I drag my eyes to my mothers. 

“We can help tire you out.” Aegon leans in and murmurs in my ear causing my cheeks to heat. 

I try to focus on my dinner as Aegon slowly scoots my chair closer to him. His hands travel up my thigh and I scold myself for wishing he was beneath my skirts. I clench my thighs together as I feel a deeper blush creeping up my neck. I hear Aegon chuckle next to me and I look up and see that Aemond is staring at us with a smirk on his lips.

“I wish I could eat you for dinner.” Aegons voice is low and taunting before he sips on his wine. I have to swallow my whimper at his words and steel myself.

“I’m not feeling well, I’m going to retire to my chambers for the night.” I stand abruptly and my mother looks to me.

“Are you okay?” her brows scrunch as she looks at me with concern. 

“I just need to lay down.” I shake my head leaving the halls in a rush. 

My slippered feet pad up the stairs rushing past the guards standing sentry. I push into my chambers and slam the doors behind me. I start pulling my dress off my flushed body as I begin to overheat. Once I’m left in my slip I collapse to the bed in a huff. I’m not risking going to a pleasure house again so my fingers will have to do for the night.

I lean back into the pillow and squeeze my eyes shut. I ghost my hands over my nipples pretending their Aemonds soft touch. I cry out as I pinch one as my hips grind into nothing. I trail my other hand down my navel and slip a tantalizing finger through my wetness teasing myself. The second I swirl my fingers around my bud a whimper escapes my lips. 

“Aegon,” his name slips from my mouth before I can stop it. 

My fingers speed up their movements and I offer rough touches to my chest to imitate both of them. My hips chase my hand as I allow both of their names to fall from my lips. I get lost in my touch and pleasure, allowing my chambers to fade from around me. 

“Fuck, please Aemond,” my voice cracks as I dip a finger inside myself. I feel my pleasure coiling as my hips keep pushing off the bed. Whimpers fall from my mouth as I slip a second finger in and shutter.

“Gods I can’t watch anymore.” I jump back into the headboard as I snap my eyes open and see Aegon smirking next to Aemond who’s stalking over to the bed. 

“How long have you both been here?” my voice squeaks as Aemond crawls over me. 

“Long enough to hear how badly you need us to help you.” he chuckles dipping his head down to capture my lips as his fingers slide through my wetness. 

“Remember what I said brother.” Aegon chuckles coming to sit next to us on the bed and watches as I writhe beneath Aemond. 

“I don’t see the point.” Aemond sighs removing his fingers from me leaving me wanting for release. 

“Let me show you.” Aegon grins licking his lips. “How badly do you want to come my sweet sister?” his voice low as he pushes two fingers into my core. 

“Very badly, Aegon, please,” I mewl bucking my hips into his hand. 

He starts pumping his fingers into me and circles his thumb around my slick bud. Sharp pants fall from my lips as I chase my high. My legs begin to shake and he pulls his hand away and laughs at my frustrated whine. 

“What’s wrong?” his licks his fingers watching me. 

“Why did you stop?” I pout reaching out for his hand. 

“I didn’t feel like you wanted it enough.” I fist the sheets at his words and turn my eyes to Aemond pleading. 

“Aem, please,” my voice soft as I blink to him. 

“I’ll see what I can do.” he starts to dip down my body leaving a trail with his tongue. 

“Brother if you let her come I’ll make sure you don’t.” Aegons voice carries a sense of authority that has me clenching my thighs together. 

“Mm hear that? Aegon thinks he’s in charge tonight.” he chuckles as he licks along my thighs. 

“Aemond please,” I buck my hips up into his face. 

He licks through my wetness and I sigh falling back into my pillow. Aegon turns my head with his hands and locks me into a rough kiss. His teeth nip at my lip as I grind against Aemonds face. My whimpers become more high pitched as I feel my pleasure coiling. Aegon pulls off of me and tries to push Aemond from between my legs. 

“Aemond,” his voice is firm as he tangles his fingers roughly in his smooth locks. My legs start to shake and I begin arching off the bed. Just a couple more swirls and- 

“I know when to stop.” Aemond lifts up from me and I let out a strangled cry. 

“Please, please, I’ll be good please,” tears slip down my cheeks. 

“I know you will.” Aegon chuckles lowly. I wipe my cheeks as he comes into view undressed. My legs open wider as I take in his length and he looks at me with dark eyes. 

“Let her come, Aegon.” Aemond has a serpentine smile as he looks at my squirming body. 

“Not yet.” he shakes his head before he dips down over me. “Gunna use this tight cunt for my pleasure.” he shoves into my core and I sob as he splits me open. 

He ruts into me while moans pour from my mouth. I try to grab onto him but he holds my hands to the bed while he slams his hips. I try to control my whimpers hoping he won’t know that I’m about to burst. I’m about to let go when he pulls out of me suddenly. He kneels back and looks down at me stroking his cock. 

“Aegon, please,” I sit up and reach for his red, leaking member. 

I crawl to him and press my lips against the side of his shaft. I trail my tongue along the underneath until I reach his tip. He groans as I swirl around his leaking slit and sink down on him. Aemonds hands grip at my hips as his hardened length pushes through my wetness. I moan around Aegon as Aemond pushes in. 

“Should we let her come?” Aegon pants looking to Aemond. 

“I’m not pulling out until I fill her.” Aemond grunts snapping his hips into mine. 

I sigh around Aegon at the promise of release. As Aemond pushes in Aegon pulls out. They’re relentless and my high sneaks up on me. I choke against Aegon as I pulse around Aemond. Aemonds hips never falter as he continues to slam into me. 

“You’re doing so good.” Aemond grunts rolling his hips. 

Aegon cups the side of my cheek as I look up to him with pleasure and tear stained eyes. His gentle touch takes a turn as he twists his hands into my hair and starts to jerk his hips into my mouth. I’m gasping for breath any chance I get as Aemond continues at his savage pace. Aegon twitches down my throat and I swallow everything he gives me. 

I collapse to the bed as Aemond pushes my chest down on the bed keeping his hand there as he repeatedly slams into me. I feel my pleasure burst through me again as I sob into the bed. His hips stutter as he fills me pulling out quickly. I lay there with my legs spread and my core up in the air as I try to catch my breath. 

“Perfect position.” I feel the bed dip behind me as my chest continues to heave. “Now we’re gunna make up for all of the orgasms we stole from you.” Aegons fingers push into me and I sigh burying my head into the pillow. 

He supports my lower abdomen as he pumps his fingers into me mercilessly. My thighs quake as I explode around him feeling Aemonds seed seep out of me. Aegon scoops it into his fingers and pushes it back into me. Aemond looks down at my face smoothing my hair as I whimper. 

“Is Aegon making you feel good?” Aemond smiles down at me.

“Yes, so good,” I push my hips back into his hand and he starts to curl his fingers. My hips almost give out once Aemonds fingers brush against my bud. 

“Come for us pretty girl.” Aemond coaxes my pleasure as my body gives out. 

When I open my eyes again I’m laying against Aemonds chest propped up and Aegon is waiting with his face at my core looking up to me. My eyes widen as he smiles before softly licking at my bud. Aemonds hands cup my breasts and roll my nipples. Aegons tongue slips into my center and I cry out. 

“Aegon,” I pant as Aemond continues to tweak my hardened buds. 

“Are you gunna drown Aegon in your juices?” Aemond licks on my neck and I whimper. 

Aegon grunts in approval as his tongue ferociously starts to lick at me. My legs try to clamp around his head but Aemond holds them open with his legs baring me to Aegons attacks. He laps at me like a starved man and I feel my pleasure rock through my body as I shake against his face. 

“You taste simply divine.” Aegon licks his lips crawling up to me to capture my lips. 

I sigh into his mouth as I feel his length press up against me. He grinds me back into Aemond and I feel his hips jerk up against my back. I’m squished between them as they pepper me with kisses and tease me with their fingertips. 

“Got another idea.” Aegon looks from me to Aemond. 

“Mm what now?” Aemond pulls up from my neck. 

“Let us both fuck you. Together.” Aegons fingers slide between us back to my heat. He gathers wetness and continues past my core and circles a slick digit around my tight hole. 

“Aegon,” I squeak as he continues to watch my face as he pushes against the opening. 

“Aemond make her come with your fingers.” my breath catches as Aemond starts circling my throbbing bud as Aegon starts to push a finger in. 

Aegon slowly works his finger into me and I let out soft gasps as Aemond starts circling faster. I grind down onto Aegons finger and whine as he starts with a second finger. I look down to Aegon with low lids as he watches his fingers disappear into me. Aemond slides a finger down and dips into my core and I sob clenching around their fingers. 

I rest back against Aemonds chest as they slowly pull their fingers from me. Aegon pulls me forward and I fall against his chest. I rest on his chest and he slips up into my core. I sigh as he fills me and my head falls to his neck. I feel Aemond push our legs further open and settle behind us. 

“Fuck Aemond,” Aegon groans as I feel Aemonds fingers brush against where me and Aegon are joined, collecting wetness. I hear Aemond let out soft puffs of breath as he pumps himself, coating himself in our release. I feel him push against my tight hole and a whine bubbles out of my throat. 

“Relax for me.” he hums rubbing my hips. 

Aegon stills his hips and goes between us to rub my bud. I sob into his neck as I feel Aemond slowly push into me. My breath catches in my throat as he slides into me. Once he settles in me I focus on the full feeling of them both. Aegon jerks his hips up pushing me back on to Aemond. 

“Fuck,” Aemond grips at my hips tightly.  

I clench around them at the delicious fullness I’m being offered and fully let them take over my body. As Aegon pulls out Aemond pushes in. My body trembles with pleasure as I come holding them still inside. 

“Such a good fucking girl.” Aegons words slurred from pleasure as him and Aemond start a faster pace. 

My body is buzzing, I’ve never felt this much pleasure as I let them use me. I feel Aegons hips falter as his warmth spreads throughout me. I clench around them both and Aemond is immediately filling me from behind. I sob at the fullness of their seed and lengths still buried in me. Aemond pulls out and falls back and Aegon lifts me off of him. 

Whimpers fall from my lips as I feel their spend dripping between my thighs. They lay me between them as they kiss me and pepper me with compliments. Their hands travel all over my body trying to help me relax and one of their hands looks to find a home between my legs which I squeeze them shut shaking my head. 

“I can’t anymore.” I my body still shaking. 

“You’re okay,” Aemond shushes me pulling the blankets over us. 

“Rest our sweet girl.” Aegon kisses my brow and pulls me to him while Aemond drapes across my back as sleep finds me quicker than it ever has with a draft from a maester. 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

masterlist 🔌 

damn here we go again 🧎🏼‍♀️

taglist ✍️ 

@clarityisnofun @callsignwidow @gabriella-aesthetic @llynx7 @violetiss3lfish @ka1afbr @akiko-oo @papichulo120627 @lizzylovebooks280501 @thatgirl101blog @anaviieiraaa @zanygot7straykidsbonk @hueanhdang

honorary tag from The Usual @janelongxox

[whotfelsewantedtobelynnyx]

So I’ve seen a couple posts about the DELIGHTFUL possibility of Zestial/Carmilla/Rosie and although it’s not the most realistic ship I’ve ever seen in this show…something about it just makes my brain go

So have some headcanons!

TW: Some mild implied sexual content and mentions of alcohol. It is Hazbin Hotel 🤷‍♀️

- Zestial and Rosie are both enamored with Carmilla’s hair. Rosie is constantly trying to convince her lover to wear her hair down more often, while Carmilla insists she wears it up because Rosie CANNOT resist playing with it (and really, she can’t). Zestial, on the other hand, just likes being allowed to help her brush and style it. He claims he enjoys the intimacy of the act. Rosie argues that he just ALSO enjoys playing with Carmilla’s hair.

Zestial, gently running a brush through Carmilla’s hair: Mine dearest, what, pray tell, befell thee to put thy locks in such a state?

Carmilla, leaning back in his lap with her eyes closed: Rosie.

Zestial, subtly smacking something away with the brush: Ah.

Rosie, who had been sneakily winding a piece around her finger: >:(

- Her impressively long hair is also why Carmilla has banned showering together in her home (“If you want it so badly, you can pay the water bill.”) It already takes her the better part of an hour to wash, condition, and then restyle it without any…distractions.

- Cannibal Town is significantly further away from Zestial and Carmilla’s territories than either are from each other. Rosie keeps a little box of knickknacks stashed in her vanity (handwritten letters from Zestial, a bottle of Carmilla's perfume, and various jewelry that she's stolen from them both) for when she can't make it to see her lovers for too long.

- Carmilla sleeps in the middle when they share a bed. This isn’t necessarily out of preference (in fact, she’s really not a big cuddler and would probably sleep on her own mattress at least some of the time if given the chance) but because both her partners are INCREDIBLY cold bodied and insist on being curled around her much warmer self when they sleep.

- Carmilla is also CONSTANTLY sleep deprived. It’s mostly her own fault (she takes the phrase “working yourself to death” to a whole new level), but every once in a while she suffers from a bout of actual insomnia, which leaves her miserable to be around the next day. Zestial usually gets sent in at that point to convince her to take a break (and a nap), because she’s least likely to snap at him.

- Zestial is partially nocturnal due to his somewhat spidery traits. He still enjoys staying in the same bed as his partners, but spends at least part of the night simply just watching them sleep. Carmilla took awhile to be comfortable with it (though she warmed up to it eventually) but Rosie found it sweet.

- Rosie and Zestial often bond over classic literature, like a weird little two-demon book club. They’ve tried to include Carmilla in it in the past, but she shuts it down every time (she loves them both, she does, but what little she understands she finds either dull, depressing, or both). She will, however, drop by with a cup of tea and a kiss for each before leaving them to their own devices.

- Both Carmilla’s partners have a good relationship with her daughters. However, Zestial is more like to a second parent to them, whereas Rosie is closer to a fun aunt/godmother (which gets her in trouble sometimes)

Clara: Rosie, will you take us downtown tonight?

Rosie: Hmm. What’d your mama say?

Odette: She said no.

Rosie: Then why’re ya asking me?

Clara: Because she’s not the boss of you.

Rosie: Huh. Well-

Zestial, interjecting with a pointed look at Rosie: In fact, I do believe she is. Of us both, dear one.

Rosie: …yeah, that’s probably right.

(Side note- 90% of the time, Carmilla absolutely is the boss of them both. In more ways than one 😉)

- Zestial is the only person Carmilla will let see her cry.

- Both C and Z have some chronic pains from throughout their lives/afterlives (Carmilla gets horrible migraines, while Zestial has some old wounds in his back and shoulders that never healed properly, as well as some joint pain in his wings that flares up when he sleeps on them awkwardly). When it gets too bad, the other will usually take over their work for the day so that they can go to Rosie’s and rest.

- Rosie, for her part, enjoys fussing over her partners a little too much- while Zestial sort of enjoys the attention, it can be a bit much for Carmilla when her head’s already killing her. She can’t stay too mad though, especially when being cradled in Rosie’s arms like that is so soothing and she can tell Rosie left off her usual perfume and hairspray out of consideration to her headache.

- Rosie has a pretty high alcohol tolerance and can usually function fairly well when she’s been drinking. The only exception is when she goes out with Alastor. Carmilla hates these nights because she then has to go and haul them BOTH home.

[thebigoblin]

as the sun rises

i've been working on this on & off for a couple weeks, and it's now complete! posting this here first, and will post it on ao3 this week!

He's just about to kiss Derek when he's pulled out of his sleep, his traitorous phone vibrating on his nightstand with a text message.

Who could be texting him? It's too early for socializing, and his brain is tired! But since he's not just a college student but also a human who runs with a wolf pack and is liable to delay rescue missions if he's not on his feet all the time — he's literally one-half of a two people operation in this pack who hold strategic braincells — he groans and opens his eyes.

His room is dark, but the curtains are blowing against a soft breeze, and slants of sunlight fall into place across his room. It's morning, then. Too early to really call it morning, but morning nonetheless.

Who would even text him right now? His pack cannot get in trouble this early in the day, can they?

Actually, they can, and they have in the past — he grabs his phone and opens it up to the text messages.

It's a message from Derek.

That says just one thing: Morning.

Stiles blinks at it. Tries to figure out if it is a secret code message or something. Scrolls back up further in their text thread, realizes Derek had an early night yesterday so of course he'd be awake early today, at 6 in the morning, and like all the mornings this past week he's sent Stiles a message.

Morning.

Normally, he does it at reasonable hours, like 8. Which is Derek's usual wake-up time, given his usually scheduled afternoon shifts at the BHPD. Like it's the very first thing he does, eyes still blurry from sleep.

It's a sweet, delusional thought borne of Stiles' own desperate greed for Derek's attention, and it chokes him as much as it pleases him.

And there goes his sleep, running away like a headless chicken, at his predicament of being in love with someone he can not have.

Derek Hale is a legend from the myths, a werewolf amongst humans; he's honor and pride intertwined with a gut of trust he's sharpened over the years, the mistakes of his youth lending him a jaded perspective on his once easily-given faith. He is a man turned ashen with tragedy, turned once again into technicolor as years have climbed up.

Stiles was there, at the intolerable stage of it. When Derek was barely a man, a kid alone in the world, hurting and grieving, persistently angry, and with no vision. And he's been there since, once a spectator turned into pages in Derek's book. He's seen him become the man he is now, their relationship blooming under the throes of violence, of almost-dead-but-not-yet celebrations, of the pack letting Derek down and Derek learning to be better for it, instead of sulking and lashing out.

He has watched Derek become who he is now, and he has fallen in love with a man who is one of the strongest people he knows, and it's devastating because why would someone like that love Stiles? There's so much that Derek deserves, so much of which Stiles can not give. He deserves all the good things, and Stiles isn't something like that, is he?

The morning goes on like this: him in the bed, under the covers, the wind blowing inside his room a gentle contrast to his harsh thoughts. He is a year into college now, he's dated a few guys and girls, felt attraction but no connection to them before he realized what's wrong with him — he couldn't connect with anyone because he's already given his heart away, and he knows this is it for him. He's gone and done for, the kind of once-in-a-lifetime love they try to sell in movies and shows and books his claim now, except for the part where he gets the guy and the life of his dreams.

Maybe, just maybe, in a couple of years, he would have moved on. But today, all he can hear in his room is the sound of his heart breaking, his breath hitching, all because of a simple text and his sadist brain.

He hurts in a way he never has. He knows grief — he's lost his mom and that hurt, too, and still does. There's a piece missing in him, a part of him forever buried with his mom, and he's learned to live without it. And this hurts too, the clarity of never having Derek, in a way that is different but somehow similar. He's grieving for something he never had, a future he dreams of but knows can never be his reality.

He allows himself to fall apart today.

*

It's the Christmas break, the weather outside slowly getting more chilly than it was when he woke up. He burrows under the covers, the wind pecking his skin, his limbs too heavy from exhaustion of having cried his hours away to get up and close the window.

He should have closed the window, really.

He's fully under the covers, tear-streaks dried on his cheeks, sticky and a tangible reminder of his woes. Still, he hears it when there's a sudden thump, of a familiar pair of boots landing on his floorboards, and a decisive click of his window being shut close.

"You'll catch a cold."

Of course he's here. Stiles doesn't want him here, not right now, not when —

"Stiles... are you okay? The room smells like you just cried."

If it was any other day, any other reason, he would have appreciated it. They have a no-bullshit relationship. It's honest and grueling, but ultimately, it works for them. Stiles knows Derek trusts him, and that is more than he ever expected to receive from him, of all people.

But he has Derek's trust, and he knows he can not have more. So, he can not lose this, too.

"G'way," he mumbles, "Please."

Time stretches, his request hanging in the air. Then, the bed near his legs dips down, Derek's warm hand finding Stiles' hand, the one outside the covers, and holding it gently. Derek's fingers wrap around his wrist, and the chill melts away.

"I was worried about you," Derek confesses, voice soft. "It's nearly nine, and you hadn't texted me back, and now you're like this. What's wrong?"

Not even a year ago, Derek would have left long as soon as something like this happened, too raw for conversations like this, too naive to navigate a healthy dialogue between friends.

That's what they are, right?

Stiles pulls his covers down until his face is visible to Derek, something which prompts Derek's hand to move to his face, give a soft caress. He truly is worried, eyebrows furrowed and everything.

"Just a bad morning, I guess," he says, and it's almost the truth.

Except. Except, Derek knows Stiles' truth and lies, and not just by his heartbeat.

"If I can help, whatever it is, I will. Just tell me." He's so earnest too, for fuck's sake.

He's a great friend, truly.

Stiles smiles, small and ironic. "You can, and you can't." Derek gives him a confused look. Stiles shrugs, the best he can while lying down on the bed. "Trust me."

"I do, Stiles. Don't you?"

Stiles is angry now. It comes as a surprise to him — a hot, white flash of anger, zipping through him like lightning.

He sits up on the bed so abruptly everything falls — the covers, his phone, him. Derek stops him from falling on his ass, though, arms around his waist.

Even before he's in no danger of hurting himself he's saying heatedly, "Don't fucking pull that card on me. You know I trust you, so much it's impossible to put into words. If you asked me to drive a dagger in my heart I would, I would trust you to keep me safe. So don't even, Derek Hale!"

"I'd rather take the dagger in my heart, Stiles." Derek's eyes are hard, alpha red creeping into them. "Tell me what's wrong." His jaw works, as if he's finding the right words, and Stiles' anger goes away as fast as it came — he slumps in Derek's arm, his weight on the man beside him. Finally, Derek says, "Is this... If Andrew did something, I'll slash his tires."

He isn't expecting this. The hell?

Andrew was the last person he went on a date with, almost two months ago. It didn't work out between them, it never does between Stiles and people, and this was more of the same. But the thing is, he didn't tell Derek about Andrew. It was their first and last date, and the only one he had told about it was...

Lydia.

Derek continues, oblivious to Stiles' confusion. "Ever since you came back to town you've been distant, and if it's because of something your boyfriend did —"

"Woah, what the fuck?" Stiles' voice rises, this time the heat replaced with a level of perplexed he hasn't felt since ages. "He's not my boyfriend, he's not my anything. We went on one date, like weeks ago. What's Lydia been telling you?"

A warmth blooms inside his chest at Derek being so protective of and vindictive for him, but he forces himself to not be affected by it right now. He can loathe Derek's instincts as an alpha when he's alone again.

Derek, for his part, parts his mouth in surpise. "Have I been stupid this entire time?" he says, more to himself than Stiles. "Then what's wrong with you?"

And now they're back at the problem asking for the problem.

Stiles sighs. "Listen. I'm happy you're such a good friend, but some things just aren't meant to be shared, okay?"

"You tell me everything." Stiles scoffs. "Stiles."

They both look out the window, where birds are flying, free from the complex human emotions. The sun is high in the sky, real morning now beginning.

"Why do you keep texting me anyways?"

Derek's eyebrows are raised when Stiles turns to look at him. They're seated with barely an inch between their bodies, and the turn of his neck has them almost sharing the same breath.

Stiles licks his lips, and he must imagine Derek's eyes tracking the movement.

"I can't ask you what's bothering you, and now I can't text you either?"

"Not what I— the morning texts, I meant. Of course you can text me, but the morning texts are new and I'm just... asking. And why can't you text me good morning? Why is it just a morning?"

Derek stares at him. Stiles knows he's thinking something, debating whether to share whatever is going through his head, or not.

"You don't have a boyfriend?"

Stiles rolls his eyes. "No, Derek. I do not."

Derek takes a deep breath, as if he's bracing himself for something huge, something he has high hopes for, something he can not bear to lose but he has no idea if he gets to keep it.

Stiles suddenly has a feeling, and if that is true, he's going to murder himself just to relive the pain one last time, because if what he's thinking is true, then he's stupid as fuck and he deserves it.

"I text you morning and not a good morning because the mornings aren't good."

"Okay... why aren't they? Good, I mean."

Derek is looking into his eyes, a vulnerability in them that Stiles has seen before, but still it feels like he's seeing it for the first time. Like this is a part of Derek he hasn't seen previously, a part that has been kept hidden purposefully finally brought to light.

Derek moves, and the miniscule distance between them is gone, eaten up by the anticipation building in the room.

Derek's hands come up to caress Stiles' face, thumb rubbing circles at the dried tear-tracks, the motion comforting. He says, "Every morning, I wake up in my bed, alone, and it's such a shitty way to start my day. Every morning is just another day, and all I can think is, the mornings would be good, really good, if you were in my bed with me, too."

Stiles swallows hard against the lump forming in his throat. "You're joking."

"Never, not with us. Not about this."

Stiles' breath hitches. Derek comes closer, rests their forehead together. Stiles closes his eyes against the closeness, the dread that this is a dream.

"You're too important to me for me to make a joke out of this, Stiles."

He's crying again. "But I don't deserve you."

Suddenly, the warmth of Derek is gone.

When Stiles opens his eyes, Derek is pacing, a glower on his face.

"Isaac can't be right, can he?" Stiles makes a confused noise. Derek rounds on him, then decides sitting down on his knees is a better option. Stiles' morning is so confusing, he starts counting Derek's fingers as well as his own when Derek holds both his hands, rests their limbs on Stiles' thighs.

There's twenty fingers. Ten his, ten of Derek's.

"Stiles. Why don't you deserve me?"

He does his best to not cry. "You're... amazing, Derek. I. I'm just me, you know?"

It seems silly to say it. It's one thing to believe it, another to put it into words.

Derek squeezss his hands. "I've loved you for a long time, longer than I have realized it."

"What?"

"And I felt the same. You're you, and I'm just me. You deserve better."

"You are the best thing that can happen to anyone!"

Derek chuckles at Stiles' vehemence, squeezes his hands once again. "Pot's calling the kettle black. I felt the same, you know," he repeats. "That you deserve better. So I never told you. And you started dating others. But then..."

"Isaac. What has he told you?" He doesn't know what he could have told Derek. It's not like Stiles and Isaac are close, but there are things their pack does, like meddle in each other's affairs, that has him realizing how troublesome their pack is.

It's not like Stiles has even a single subtle bone in his body.

Derek smiles. "He told me that he's got a bet going for us to get together before the New Year." Stiles isn't surprised, not really. He smiles back. "Yeah, the pups have a bet going, and Lydia and Isaac seem to be on the same page."

"Jesus. Her too? What did you say?"

"The whole pack is in on it. I was surprised they would do such a thing. They can't force two people together when one of them isn't into the other one." He moves forward, until their foreheads are touching once again, and this time, Stiles takes one of his hands and presses it to Derek's head, cards his fingers through the soft hair.

"Then what happened?" He prompts.

"Isaac laughed in my face when I told him I was disappointed because I didn't think he and others would stoop so low. And then he told me I might be an alpha but that I'm stupid if I haven't been able to figure out that you like me back."

Stiles laughs, rather nervously. "I always worried you'd figure it out and we'd not be close anymore."

"I did figure it out, actually."

"WHAT?" He shouts it in Derek's ear, who winces and pulls back. "Sorry, but why the fuck didn't you say anything?"

Derek stays on his knees, but he inches a bit backwards, creating a safe distance between Stiles' mouth and his ears. "I didn't want to lose you."

"How could you lose me when you liked me and realized that I liked you back? That doesn't even make sense." Derek gives him a look. Stiles rolls his eyes. "See, I didn't say anything because I've always believed you deserve nice things, and I've mutually never believed I'm a nice thing. But if you told me you liked me... I would have been selfish."

Derek's expression turns soft. "You're the best thing to happen to me, even as just friends." Stiles' cheeks heat at the proclamation, and he ducks his head. When he looks back up, Derek is smiling back at him. "I've wanted you to be mine for a long time. And when I say mine, I mean it. For life. Building a future together and all the good and bad that follows. But all I could figure out... at least what I thought I figured out... was that you liked me casually."

Stiles gets up from the end of the bed and pulls Derek up by offering him a hand, which he takes with a full-tilt smile, bunny teeth and all. "No part of me is casual for you. I never believed I could feel like this, but if anything, everything I feel for you is cosmic."

Derek's smile grows until it's a full-on grin, and Stiles feels the width of it, the rush of Derek's blood, the pure joy of their stupidity taking second place to communication in the kiss Derek pulls him into — Derek's arms wrap around his waist, his own around Derek's shoulders, sliding up and down, on his stubble, his cheeks, his hair. The kiss itself is sweet and hot, their mutual joy imprinting itself in the endless journey of time with their noises of appreciation.

They kiss and kiss, tongues touching and lips bitten raw, until the necessity of oxygen forces them apart. As soon as they break apart Derek moves on to his neck, the press of his lips electric, and Stiles is the happiest man on Earth.

Well. Except for Derek, of course.

"Good morning, Derek."

Derek growls and bites down, intent on marking. "The best morning," he agrees, and Stiles can only moan, feel the pain of being claimed, and revel in the moment.

He still has thoughts of being unworthy in the back of his mind, but what he told Derek was true: if Derek wants him, he'll be his. He'll be selfish.

He'll love Derek Hale as long as he breathes.

Once the hickey is painted on Stiles' neck, Derek tips his jaw, their eyes locking onto each other. He says, "I love you so fucking much, baby."

Stiles smiles. Derek seems to be on the same page as him, and it's starting to feel like Stiles will be a part of Derek's book for a long, long time.

Maybe, just maybe, till even the last page of the book.

It truly is a good morning.

[a-dumb-sarcastic-bisexual]

These Clone Wars headcanons take a turn at the end

I feel like the writers really dropped the ball on never showing us Anakin and Ahsoka attending a formal event because I feel like it would be hilarious 

Watching two hardened war heroes try and act like they haven’t seen all the horrors the universe has to offer is the equivalent of watching two possums stacked on top of each other trying to convince someone they’re human

I feel like they would both try to behave for Padme and Obi-Wan’s sake but at the same time they can't help but make fun of each other as they act “normal” while simultaneously hiding the fact that they’re talking shit about anyone and everyone in the room

These two dorks are just standing in a corner praying to anyone that will listen for these stuck-up silver spoon-suckling sleemos to leave them alone but unfortunately for them the rich never care to read the vibe so they’re stuck schmoozing

After being to a couple of formal events the two start to form escape plans to get out of being in boring conversations which include but are not limited to: Ahsoka acting like they’re playing her favorite song so they have to dance, them pretending as Obi-Wan called them over with the force but in actuality they just hide behind him while he acts like an adult, and last but certainly not least Ahsoka faking an allergic reaction 

That last one got them into some trouble cause in their haste they left Obi-Wan and Padme behind to deal with the confused and concerned public and they were less than pleased to find that Anakin abused his padawan’s allergies like this little did they know Ahsoka came up with that plan

I have a guttural feeling that Ahsoka’s been put in air jail sometimes by Rex but it’s mostly Anakin using the force to lift her off the ground because it’s the only thing that calms her down 

It surprised her to find out that he stole the idea from Obi-Wan it was more surprising to find out he wasn’t entirely patient with Anakin during the first couple of years of his apprenticeship but the thing that didn’t surprise her was the fact that Anakin was a feral little brat who bit hard when he was frustrated 

There was one time when the trio were sent on a mission and it wasn’t a pleasant one to say the least which naturally resulted in them being sleep deprived which usually leads to them being very snappy towards each other

One day Anakin and Ahsoka got into a less-than-friendly shoving match which was likely going to escalate into a full-blown fight before Obi-Wan lifted them both and the uncharacteristic abuse of the force caused the duo to laugh their asses off 

Obi-Wan doesn’t like thinking of that moment cause it feels like a petty step back in his growth but the duo silently thinks that moment was hilarious and still laugh about it years later 

Anakin doesn’t always use the force to reprimand Ahsoka sometimes they act like the stupid teenagers they are and use it for reckless fun and by that I mean one day Ahsoka got an idea and begged Anakin to use the force to toss her as high as he could

He denied her request for a while even with her assuring him that if anything went wrong she could just catch herself when that approach wasn’t working she poked at his pride making little comments that he probably couldn’t toss her higher than his head

So with an admittedly bruised ego and still slight hesitation he agreed and the second her feet were back on the ground she begged him to do it again funny enough it became a kind of game/training for the duo

It helped with Anakin’s stamina and Ahsoka’s reaction time cause unfortunately being the chosen one doesn’t make someone perfect and he did drop her a couple of times but it didn’t matter much cause she caught herself

As the duo got older they started taking turns launching each other like a weird force see-saw but one day the jig was up cause the twins caught them doing this weird little game and demanded a turn

They agreed but the twins never got past the duo’s waste which didn’t matter cause Padme scolded them anyway and the two promised to never do it again with the twins around 

Anakin and Ahsoka are both deeply sentimental people I know this in my soul which results in their shared quarters being cluttered with a whole bunch of stuff 

Anakin’s stuff makes more sense cause it’s basically gifts from Padme and Obi-Wan or random projects that never worked out but he could never justify throwing away

Ahsoka on the other hand is an absolute goblin and will hoard anything and everything that feels special like 3D glasses from the singular time she and Anakin could see a holo in theaters, or a random rock from Naboo, a ribbon from a dress Padme gave her that she outgrew, and a thank you note from the kids on Mandalor 

You know the things that most people would describe as useless or junk but she keeps them scattered all over their quarters nonetheless well she did before someone got wind that she was doing this and advised her against it cause it’s against the Jedi code

She agreed with them so she stuffed all of it in a box and right before she could toss it they were sent on a mission and when she got back she didn’t have the energy to get rid of it so she just shoved it to the back of her closet 

And then she started collecting trinkets again and stored them all in the box that she lovingly refers to as the “box o’ shit” in her mind until one day the box literally wouldn’t close with all the stuff stored inside

And out of the blue the guilt she first felt when she was reprimanded came flooding back tenfold and she made a vow to toss it out the next day but every time she tried it just ended with tears in her eyes

Until one day she came home from a truly terrible solo mission to find a chest in the middle of her room and when she asked Anakin about it all he said was “Oh it’s for your stuff I figured you’d need a new one by now”

She needed no clarification of what stuff he was talking about and she didn’t know how to ask him politely how he knew she ignored sage advice while she knew she should feel embarrassed for being so obvious or guilty all she felt was loved 

So she squeezed the ever-loving force out of the one person who just got her and smiled as he squeezed her back just as tight without commenting on the twin puddles on the front of his robes 

[hearts4golbach]

The Night Shift.

Johnnie Guilbert x Fem!Reader.

chapter 13.

it was another night in the cafe, the same routine seemed to be never ending. as i scrubbed the counter down after spilling my own drink, i thought about Johnnie. i didn't want to have my hopes up that he'd continue to come and see me every night, so i had myself convinced i'd only see him a couple times this week, if even at all. i scrubbed the counter until it sparkled, wanting to keep myself busy with anything i could. if Johnnie was up, he would've texted me. and if he is up and didn't, then that's fine. i kept telling myself the same thing to try and quiet my mind, but i gave in and just put in one of my headphones.

it was around 11 pm when a trio of girls stumbled into the cafe. 2 of them were very obviously under the influence while the other must've been the designated driver because she had a miserable look on her face. the sober girl shooed them off, telling them to go sit somewhere. she walked up to me with an exasperated smile. "you seem like you're having a great night." i say sarcastically, trying to lighten the mood.

she sighed, "yeah. so sorry if they cause any trouble." she says shyly.

"all good, what can i get for you?" the bell on the door rings as someone else walks in. i didn't glance over while i was listening to her order. whenever she was finished ordering snacks for her friends, she thanked me and went to sit with them.

johnnie walked up after her with a tired smile. "hey."

i tilted my head and smiled softly. "why don't you take melatonin or something? your sleep schedule must be shit if you come and see me every night." i tease

"i mean, it's worth it. in the day you're usually asleep." i looked at him, confused, "so i can't see you." he explained further, lightly laughing.

"well, i'm so glad you come see me so often," i smile, but my mood immediately flipped as someone else walked in. a sweet looking old lady stood behind johnnie in the line. "you ordering anything?"

"probably not tonight. i just planned on seeing if i could talk to you for a bit." he moved out of the way and went to sit at his usual table. after i served this customer, i planned on going to sit with him.

"hello, ma'am. what can i get for you?" i repeated the words i had at least a hundred times in the past month. as she went through her order, i took a couple glances around the cafe. johnnie sat on his phone, leaving back in the chair lazily. meanwhile, one of the intoxicated girls was really eyeing him. it looked as if she was undressing him with her eyes, and i hated it. i watched as she turned to her friend and whispered before smiling and blushing and looking back at him. i think i visibly rolled my eyes.

"that'll be all!" her bottom lip slightly quivered as she smiled.

"i'll have that right out for you." i walked over to our case of pastries, occasionally taking glances back at the girl. she seemed to be scheming something. i collected her two cheese danishes before going off to make her vanilla latte. i set her things on the counter in front of where she was standing before telling her the total. she paid and went on her merry way.

i exited from behind the counter and sat across from johnnie. whenever he realized i was done, he shut off his and fixed his posture to face me correctly. "seems like a busy ass night."

"yeah, i mean, luckily i get off at, like, 3." which was about 3 hours before the day shift started. johnnie nodded. i watched as the same girl walked up behind johnnie. she had long, red, pin straight hair and the cutest freckles i had ever seen, which almost made me mad. she was beautiful, and if she was about to hit on johnnie, i didn't stand a chance compared.

she tapped on his shoulder while staring me dead in the eyes. " hi, i'm amelia." she smiled sweetly, sticking out her hand to johnnie.

"hi," johnnie replied, sounding confused but not taking her hand. him not taking her hand made me want to smile, but it was such a small gesture, i convinced myself it was nothing.

she cleared her throat as she put her hand down. "well, i think you're really cute," she blushed, "can i get your number?" her hand grazed his shoulder.

he slightly furrowed his eyebrows, glancing towards me before turning back to her. "i'm not looking for a relationship right now, no thanks." he said nonchalantly before turning back to me. she opened her mouth to say something but ultimately walked back to her seat without saying a word. "did i ever get your tiktok? i wanna send you shit." he immediately changed the subject.

"no, one sec." i pulled up tiktok and showed him my username. as he was looking me up, o began to spam text jake.

me: jake

me: jakeee

me: jake!!!

and so on for at least 30 seconds before he texted me back.

jake: whaaat why can't i sleep D:

me: because this girl was tryna get his number but he said he's not looking for a relationship is that true???

jake: i can't say much but that is not the case for that inbred

me: well damn good but what 😭

jake: is that it

jake: can i sleep now 🙃

me: yes get your beauty sleep cause you need it lol

jake: girl have you seen me?? gn

me: lol night

i turned off my phone and looked at johnnie, feeling much better. "you find it?"

"damn, sorry, i'm slow." he smiled awkwardly, a blush growing on his face. i smiled back.

[thievinghippo]

Hey, how has that CPAP been going?

Hello Anon! It's going better. I had a lot of trouble adjusting to things the first week. Kept messing with the mask, had a hard time falling asleep, etc

But I seem to be past most of that now. The machine wakes me up once in a while, which is weird. I'm usually a very deep sleeper and only wake up if I need to go to the bathroom. But if the machine is at it's highest pressure, the air blowing against my face wakes me up. I have an appointment with my sleep doctor next month and I'll see if there are ways to combat that

Overall, I'm definitely seeing results. Before I started, I would close my eyes to rest for 5-10 minutes a couple of times a day. I don't need to do that any more. Now I can stay awake for the entire day

I am being dumb and staying up too late, meaning I'm probably not getting enough sleep at night, but I'll keep working on that

TL:DR - It's going well!

[authorhjk1]

London

Cho Miyeon and Jeon Soyeon X Male Reader

For the last three days you didn't do much except for working and sleeping. Once you finally got to London, you were working without a break to solve the problems that could ruin your company. It started from important briefings and making decisions on a management level, to even working on the projects yourself.

The company located in London is a programming company. It's clients are other firms, which need their own technology for computers and equipment and stuff.

You don't know as much about writing code and programming as you would like. But you can write in two languages and you aren't that bad.

Because the company doesn't have a lot of employees since it's only a small one, you started helping out fixing the messed up code. For some reason, parts of the software you sold a couple of months ago didn't function properly.

It took several days to finally get rid of the most important problems. You leave the smaller ones to the employees, not wanting to neglect your other business for too long.

"And then, you are done for today."

"Are you sure?"

One of your assistants is walking with you. Or at least she is trying to. You always walk pretty fast, since you are always busy. And her wearing high heels makes her walk slower.

"Yes, sir. After the dinner meeting your schedule is clear."

"Thank you, Kate. I will see you tomorrow in the office."

"Have a great night, sir."

You get in your car, putting the address she gave you earlier into the GPS.

While driving through the streets of London, you try to relax yourself a little. This is the little alone time you have during your stay here.

Usually, there is always someone who wants to call you, someone who wants a business meeting, or an employee is having issues. And even if all of the above isn't the case, Kate is pretty much always there.

She really is a great assistant and you regret that you haven't been able to convince her to move to Korea yet. But you are sure that you are slowly getting there.

Once you arrive at the restaurant, you park your car and get in. It's a really nice one, you didn't expect anything less for the upcoming meeting. Walking past the occupied tables, you glance at the other customers. Everyone here is decently wealthy. That's why you are surprised, when you see five young women chatting away over dinner. You are even more surprised, when you find out that they are speaking Korean.

Either way you walk to the back, entering one of the private rooms.

"Mr. (L/n). Please have a seat."

"All of you are here already. Did I get the wrong time?"

"No don't worry. You are never late."

You wink at the man on the opposite side of the table.

It's true. You try to always be as early as possible. Your father once told you: early is on time and on time is late.

"I think we can all agree on this being the most profitable solution for all of us."

Looking around the table, you try to see how many of the six men you convinced. Sometimes it's hard to tell.

"Please don't be offended by my forwardness..."

You mentally roll your eyes. Why do people say this stuff. Either just say it and offend me, or shut up.

"But your company had trouble over the last week. And I'm not sure if you are the best person to partner with. At least right now."

You force yourself to smile.

"Well, that was only one of my companies and we already solved the problem completely. Even now my smaller company generates more profit than your big one."

The older guy looks like he is about to walk out. You honestly don't really care. You don't need all six to help you buy a whole airline. Two or three should be more than enough.

"I also have more than one company!"

"Of course you do. But I make triple the amount of money."

"That's enough! I'm leaving! You came here to ask us for help! And now you are insulting us?"

The other guys are watching the two of you. You don't care if he leaves, but you don't want them all to think that you want to exploit them.

"I'm not insulting anyone. You made fun of my company and I simply pointed out that it makes more money than yours."

"Fuck you!"

You raise your eyebrow as he storms out of the room.

Not paying anymore attention to him, you look at the others.

"I didn't ask you to come for help. I'm just offering a business proposal. Korean Air is doing average right now and I got a pretty good offer. If we invest together, we can make the airline even better. Generate more profit."

Honestly, you don't even need these men. You could buy Korean Air almost on your own. But you don't want to take the risk. If you do it like this, you will only get a third of the profits, but you will only lose a third if it goes South.

You try to keep yourself under control as you go through your emails. The rejection you got was surprising. You didn't expect them all to decline. The offer wasn't bad, so you wonder why they didn't go through with it. Why waste your time and meet them, when they are going to say no anyways?

Your focus falls on something else, when you read the next email. Another big problem with a program. You were sure that everything got fixed. Programs are usually quite forward and predictable. That's why you like them. But sometimes, it feels like their magical. In a bad way. Sometimes there is a problem, but you just can't understand why.

Just like right now.

"May I refill your glass, sir?"

You look up from your laptop.

Currently sitting in the lounge of the hotel you are staying at, you ordered a scotch earlier. You were tired and just trying to get over the failed dinner.

"No thanks. You got some tea?"

You need to concentrate now. And alcohol usually doesn't help with that.

After working around the clock for the last years, you made a habit out of not working in your living space. That includes your bedroom at home and also your hotel room. You always work in the lounge. It helps you concentrate and usually it's not that loud.

"We should've run more tests."

You mumble to yourself, while you open the problematic part of the code on your second laptop. There is a reason why you use a second laptop for coding. You learned the hard way, that it's not a good idea to write code on a computer where you have a lot of important data stored. If something goes horribly wrong, everything is lost. Making your operating system fail due to your code is never a good idea.

"Excuse me?"

Looking up from your laptop, you look at the woman standing in front of you.

"Can we sit here? The rest is all occupied."

You look around the room, only realizing it now.

"Sure."

You scoot over to one side of the couch. The woman and her friends sit down next to you and order something to drink. They look somewhat familiar. Have you met them before? You think about it for a second.

Maybe not.

You return your attention to your work. It's a little harder now, since the five women are talking right next you. Only a couple of minutes later you realize that they are speaking Korean. Now you recognize them. They are the same women, who were eating at the restaurant.

Looking at them for a moment longer, you realize how pretty they all actually are. One of them looks unbelievably cute and-

Stop it. You have to concentrate.

"Here is your tea, sir."

"Thank you."

You put your laptop onto the glass surface of the coffee table, before taking the cup of tea. Leaning back, you relax a little, still staring at your screen.

The woman with the light brown hair laughs at a joke. You can't help but glance at her, as her hand covers her mouth in an elegant way while she laughs. Her white dress with flowers on it makes her look very innocent and cute. Her face looks like one of a princess.

Suddenly the two of you lock eyes and you see her smile at you sweetly. You smile back politely, hoping you didn't get caught staring.

The black haired woman next to you thanks the waiter, when he brings their drinks. Her voice sounds somewhat deep and sultry. You like it.

Trying to concentrate again, you focus back on your laptop. The space you are sitting in is made out of two leather couches, forming an "L". You are sitting on the smaller side with two of the five girls. It's a little tight, but you don't mind.

The shoulder of the woman next to you keeps touching yours from time to time. You don't pay much attention to it, until her hand rests on her thigh.

One of her fingers carefully reaches out to you, touching your thigh. At first you think it's an accident, just like her shoulder, but then a second finger joins.

You are not sure what to make of this. Although you are trying to work, you can't deny that she looks pretty and it's not like you are uninterested.

When three of the girls go to the bathroom, only two remain. The black haired woman next to you and the woman with the light brown hair, who is sitting on the other couch.

The younger woman squeezes your thigh now, her nails slightly digging into your flesh.

"I'm sorry. I can't help it."

She whispers, without looking at you. Her friend doesn't seem to notice.

When she takes her drink and a napkin from the table, she lets go of the napkin. It couldn't have been more obvious, as it falls onto the ground between your legs. She reaches downwards, her hand brushing against your crotch.

"Soyeon, what are you doing?"

The older woman looks at Soyeon in confusion.

"Getting my napkin."

She smiles innocently while her hand brushes against your crotch again.

This time, her friend caught it. You could see it on her face. A hint of red appears on her beautiful features.

She doesn't say anything though.

Soyeon sees it too.

"Are you being shy? Come on. We have done this before."

You are not sure what is happening right now.

"He does look handsome."

Her cheeks are still slightly flushed, but she smiles cutely at you.

"There you go, unnie. Let's have some fun."

It feels like she isn't even asking for your opinion.

"Come here, princess."

You are surprised by the sudden name calling, but the brunette woman does what Soyeon says.

She gets up from the couch and walks over, standing in front of you.

"Hi, I'm Miyeon. Do you mind if I sit on your lap?"

The high level of confusion you are experiencing right now must be evident on your face.

"Of course he doesn't."

Soyeon answers for you.

Miyeon gives you a peck on the forehead, before sitting down on you. Her back facing you.

Not sure what to do, you admire her body from behind. Her naked shoulders seem to be created by an angel. Or maybe she is an angel? Her face and her outfit suggest that.

But her actions don't. Although her hands are placed on her thighs, you feel Miyeon slowly moving on top of you.

"You know what?"

Soyeon whispers in your ear and you are barely able to shake your head.

"Our little princess has been a naughty girl."

Miyeon looks over her shoulder at you.

"Please punish me."

You really want to. But you are sitting in a public space.

"But you aren't done with work. Are you, sweetie?"

The younger woman's voice seems to radiate pure lust.

"Please, daddy. Punish your little princess."

Miyeon does a little aegyeo, trying to convince you.

"How about we split the work? I write on the laptop the stuff you dictate and you punish this naughty girl."

Soyeon kisses your cheek before grabbing your laptop.

You are still conflicted, but Miyeon lifting her skirt makes you decide very quickly. She exposes her naked butt, revealing her panties. They are matching with her dress. White. With flowers on them.

You can't do much else but watch as the woman on top of you slowly pulls the fabric to the side. Meanwhile Soyeon is opening your pants, fishing out your cock.

You are already hard at the sight of Miyeon and the younger woman's smirk shows that she is satisfied.

"Put your arms around her. She needs a lot of care when she is getting punished."

You do as she says, wrapping your arms around the brunette's waist.

Soyeon strokes your shaft slowly, before guiding it towards Miyeon's entrance.

The older woman sighs in pleasure as Soyeon teases her folds with your cock.

You are still very much aware that you are in public. But it seems to matter less and less.

Slightly lifting herself off you, Miyeon enables Soyeon to line up your tip with her entrance.

"Be a good princess and take daddy's cock well."

"Yes, mistress."

Miyeon moans quietly, when she lowers herself onto you. Your head falls back as you are almost unable to take it. Miyeon is by far the tightest you have ever had. It's almost painful to even enter her. Her walls clench around your cock tightly, squeezing it with all her strength.

You can't see yourself entering her because Miyeon let her dress fall down again. It looks as if she is just sitting on your lap. But both of your faces show, what is actually happening. You feel like it takes ages for Miyeon to completely slide down your shaft. You wonder if you could ever leave her again.

"Come one, sweetie. You have to get your work done."

Half of your attention moves back to Soyeon. It's like she is almost torturing you.

"Alright."

You can barely speak as Miyeon slowly begins her journey upwards.

"Int ETC = 5."

Soyeon types what you say.

"Int ETD = 9."

You are very glad that you are almost done with the code, so it isn't that hard. But Miyeon does her best to distract you. She lowers herself back onto you again.

You are still not entirely sure how you ended up in this situation. But Miyeon's tight snatch makes it hard concentrate on much else.

"Right_Coordinates( Program_C, 15, 70)."

Soyeon does as you say. You watch her typing in the code.

"Next."

It's like she doesn't even care that you are buried inside of Miyeon to the hilt. The brunette leans against you as her pleasure begins to increase. Although she is going slowly, the situation makes her horny. She never did this in public. Her pussy clenches around you as the thought of getting caught flashes through her mind.

You still hold Miyeon's waist, controlling her pace. It takes immense amount of self-control to not just fuck her brains out right now. She makes you go crazy with her pussy, tempting you to do more. Tempting you to tighten your grip. To make her bounce up and down your cock.

But you stay still. Trying to get out of this without getting caught.

"Sweetie?"

Soyeon is mocking you. She must know exactly what you are fighting through right now, but she is still making you work. It's as if the two are punishing you.

"If (ETC > XXX)

get.image045

else

get.image056."

You are glad that you are getting closer to the end of the code.

"Daddy, can you play with your princesses clit, please?"

Miyeon's begging makes you focus all of your attention back to her.

"Do you want me to?"

"Yes, daddy."

"But aren't you supposed to be punished?"

You can feel the disappointment coming from Miyeon.

"But... But I need it."

Her cute voice tries to convince you to give in.

"How much do you need it?"

You know how to play this game. You are very good at it. And you attempt to punish the brunette really bad.

"I feel like I can't live without you. I can't live without daddy's cock."

Pretending not to listen, you dictate the next couple of lines.

"Daddy needs to pay attention to his princess. Or she will become really naughty."

"Is that a threat?"

Miyeon keeps gliding along the length of your shaft without rest.

"It's a prediction. Princess would never threaten daddy."

Her usage of the pet names makes you grow even harder inside of her. You are sure the brunette feels it.

Soyeon nudges you with her elbow.

"Return DDW."

She does as you say.

But Miyeon really does become impatient. In an instant she grabs your knees instead of her thighs. Raising her hips again, she impales herself on your cock.

"Add a semicolon and-Fuck."

You moan as Miyeon reaches your base with a new speed. It feels like she has become tighter. It feels like you are even deeper inside of her now. Before you can stop her, Miyeon raises and falls one more time. You see stars. Tightening your grip on her waist, you hold her in place. You are still buried inside her, while she is unable to move.

"I told you I will become naughty."

You quietly agree.

"You should bring me to your room. Just tear this dress off me and bend me over."

Being a great business man, your self-control is very high. But Miyeon almost makes you break. You want to bend her over right now. But you can't. Instead, you move your mouth to her skin. Sucking on it, you shut her up for a moment. She feels smooth and flawless. A cute moan leaves her lips, as she feels yours on her skin.

But she recovers too quickly from your attack.

"You should spank me really hard. Because I was so naughty. Because I was craving daddy's cock."

Her words and her appearance are just not matching. She looks like a princess, she sounds like a princess, but she speaks like a little brat.

"I'm going to give you the punishment you deserve."

"Yes, daddy. Please."

Miyeon leans her head back, letting it rest on your shoulder.

"Use my body how you want."

"I will."

You whisper into her ear. Hands still on her waist, you begin to make her move again. Miyeon happily complies.

Glancing at the computer, you read the last line.

"Return DDW; Fuck!"

"Don't write that. Delete the last words."

"Are you sure?"

Soyeon looks at you innocently.

"Yes. I am."

You watch her deleting the last word.

"Okay. Now you need to go the main function."

"What? How?"

You growl in disbelief. Miyeon's movements make you very impatient. And you should have predicted that Soyeon doesn't know much about writing code.

"Go the last line of the whole code."

While she does it, you feel Miyeon sneakily taking one of your hands in hers. Slowly, she guides it towards her core.

"Now what?"

You are distracted by Soyeon.

"System_FG(motion, 50, 70, 6)"

In that moment you feel your hand move under Miyeon's dress.

"Miyeon."

You scold her, making the brunette stop.

"But daddy. Don't you want to make me cum?"

"I do. But not here."

You don't even think about it. You know you want to. From the moment she sat in your lap you wanted to.

While your hand joins the other again, you look at the screen.

"If( ETD < SGH)

Return Exit_Failure

else

Return SGH."

You lean your head back, once Soyeon put in the last semicolon. You honestly don't know if it's compilable, but you decide that it's an unimportant detail for now.

"It's finished."

"You did so well."

You sigh in relief, while Soyeon puts down your laptop. Miyeon smiles at you over her shoulder.

"Now daddy can punish his princess properly."

In that moment you remember their friends.

"Wait. What about the others?"

"Don't worry. They are out."

Soyeon turns towards you. Her elbow on the armrest and her chin on her hand.

"How about you show us your room?"

It took you longer than expected to leave Miyeon. You didn't really want to, although you knew you could fuck her soon enough. But her tightness was almost traumatizing. When you finally did leave her pussy, you almost forgot to take your laptops with you. The cause of that was Soyeon, whispering dirty words into your ear.

She is unable to do it now though, since her mouth is occupied. Pressing her against the wall of the elevator, you make out with Soyeon passionately.

Although it probably takes you only five to ten minutes to your room, Miyeon's need for your touch can't wait. That's why your hand is under her dress, while your tongue is in Soyeon's mouth.

After what you did in the lounge, the fear of getting caught vanished. You guide the two women to your room, or your suite rather.

Once you are inside, you are already occupying Soyeon's lips once more. You feel Miyeon pressing her body against yours from behind.

"Daddy. Give me some attention."

Her cute voice enters your ear from behind. Her hands roam your body, occasionally touching your crotch in the process.

"It's my turn, slut."

Soyeon mumbles into your mouth, while she undoes you tie. Your tongue explores her mouth, while your hands wander over her figure.

You feel the naked skin of her back. You feel her thigh, when you drop your hand lower. Her body seems to be made for you to touch. And the way Soyeon moans into your mouth shows that she thinks the same.

When you are about to undo the strings of fabric on her back, Soyeon pushes you away a little. Taking the loose tie, which is now dangling around your neck, into her hands, she looks past you at Miyeon.

"Time for your punishment, princess."

Her tone is lustful and deep. The brunette looks excited and curious at the same time. In an instant, Soyeon has wrapped your tie around her wrists, tying them together.

"You have been such an impatient and naughty princess this whole time. Now you have to watch me getting fucked."

Miyeon's expression changes from excitement to horror.

"No. Please. I need daddy's cock."

"Silence. Just watch."

With that, Soyeon pushes Miyeon, making her fall onto the bed behind her. Because her hands are behind her back, she can't get up. She can't touch you. She can't even touch herself.

"Daddy!"

Her cry for help falls on deaf ears, as you watch Soyeon turn towards you.

"You are mine now."

Like a hungry lion, Soyeon jumps you. Quite literally. Because she is kinda short, she had to stay on her toes during making out. Now she jumps into your arms, making you hold her like this. Your hands are squeezing her naked thighs as Soyeon crashes her lips into yours.

"Daddy!"

You keep ignoring her while you kiss Soyeon deeply. Her lips still taste like the drink she had. Something sweet. Her hands hold onto your neck, not letting you go.

Once she has had enough, Soyeon whispers into your ear.

"Fuck me. Fuck me so hard that Miyeon cums from just watching. Without touching herself. Begging for your dick."

Without a word, you turn Soyeon around and push her. She lands on the bed too. Her head at Miyeon's feet. Finally having her where you want her, you undo the strings of her top, exposing her fully naked back. Your tongue starts its journey from her neck. Slowly traveling over to her shoulders. Then her back. You kiss and lick her skin while holding her in place.

Soyeon moans at your touch, unable to predict what spot you focus on next. Her eyes rest on Miyeon. The brunette has managed to sit up, leaning against the headboard. The lust in her eyes makes them dark pools of desire as she watches you worship Soyeon's perfect skin.

"Daddy."

Her begging has been reduced to a pitiful whine. Finally making eye contact with her, you see her smile. Hoping for you to change your mind. Hoping that she got punished enough.

Instead you reach down, moving your hand underneath Soyeon's skirt. Pulling her thong to the side, you slip one finger into the young woman. You are surprised at her wetness. Seems like the foreplay in the lounge got her off more than you thought. You finger her slowly, while keeping eye contact with Miyeon.

The brunette's cheeks are flushed as she watches you. She bites her quivering lip, needing release. A small part of her mind wonders, if she can actually cum without getting touched. But most of her focus is on you as you drop to your knees.

Soyeon is still bend over the bed, her knees on the floor. With one long lick, you taste her pussy from the bottom to the top.

"Fuck!"

Soyeon curses as you start to eat her out. Your hands hold her ass cheeks, kneading them, while your tongue pleasures her. The younger woman's moans make Miyeon want to get eaten out, too. The way her body moves when you hit the right spot. The way her glassy eyes look up at the brunette. The way her hands hold onto the bed sheets.

Miyeon feels her own pleasure rising. She imagines that she is the one bend over the bed. That she is the one that has your tongue in her pussy. That she is the one that moans in ecstasy.

"Daddy. I'm so sorry for being a naughty girl."

Her sobs make you look up for just a moment. Miyeon's cheeks are now bright red. A small trickle of blood is leaving her lower lip, where she bit to hard on it. She keeps trying to get the tie off her wrists, but her efforts become weaker.

"Daddy. I want to be a good princess."

"You will be."

It's a short answer. But it's the only one she is getting. At least for now. You pull Soyeon further onto the bed, positioning her on all fours.

"Yes. Fuck me good. Show that little slut what she is missing."

You push Soyeon's back further down, her ass moving higher in the process. Your tip brushes against her folds and she lets out another moan.

"Pound me."

It's a simple order. A good one. You do as she says.

Sliding inside of her, you feel Soyeon getting pushed forward. Her hair now falling onto Miyeon's naked feet. She took her shoes off when she entered your room. Now her hair is tickling her feet. Miyeon certainly is getting punished. There is no doubt about it.

You start to fuck Soyeon in front of the young brunette. Her pussy is wetter than Miyeon's, but not as tight. You can't help but compare the two of them.

"Fuck!"

Soyeon moans as you move in and out of her. Her wet walls let you glide easier through her. Reaching forward, you grab her hair, wrapping it around your fingers. It makes her raise her head, looking straight at Miyeon. The two of them lock eyes.

The brunette whines as she watches her friend getting fucked like this. She keeps imagining that it's her. But just watching isn't quite the same. Miyeon needs more. She needs more friction. She needs touching. Moving around a little, she tries to slip out of your tie, but to no prevail. Soyeon knows how to tie a tie.

Unable to move much, she has to watch. She doesn't want to look away from the scene in front of her. She can't.

Soyeon's glassy eyes as you fuck her from behind. Her black hair wrapped around your hand, while you pull her head up. Soyeon scratching at the sheets, as you hit the right spot in her pussy. Your hand at her waist, holding her tight. Your shirt that got unbuttoned, showing off your muscles. Sweat slowly forming on your chest.

All of it she takes in. Miyeon starts to feel hotter. And when you fuck Soyeon harder, she feels like you are doing her harder. The brunette experiences your and Soyeon's act of sin as if she is participating. She smells your and Soyeon's scent. The sweat. The smell of sex. All of it.

And with that, Miyeon grinds on your pillow. She doesn't even realize it at first. But the pleasure in her body and in her mind starts to build up. Like waves. Like waves that are about to crash onto the rocks.

Hearing Miyeon whimper louder, you look up. You have been paying attention to Soyeon, but the sight of the brunette like this is a rare moment to witness. Her teary eyes begging you to touch her. She grinds on your pillow, showering it with her scent and probably with her juices soon as well.

Seeing her like this only makes you fuck Soyeon harder. And faster. Your hand leaves her hair and both of them reach for her shoulders. With new found strength, you give it to her hard. Pulling her towards you, while you push forward. With every thrust. You can't see her face, but Miyeon's makes up for it.

"Oh god!"

Soyeon moans louder as you fuck her as hard as you can. Miyeon looks like she is dying of thirst. Sexual thirst.

"Yes! Harder!"

Soyeon becomes more vocal. She starts to speak more, as you feel her hot cavern tighten around you.

"Daddy. Please fuck me after you make her cum."

Miyeon is begging once more as she feels the waves of pleasure in her body building up. Higher and higher. Her anticipation grows, wanting to see how Soyeon cums around your cock.

And the black haired woman does her that favour only a few moments later. Her moans become longer. Her breathing heavier. Her walls tighter. Her pussy wetter.

And then she cums. You stop moving as you are forced out of her by her juices. They spill onto your sheets and onto your legs, dripping down onto the floor. A long drawn out moan escapes Soyeon's mouth. It feels like it's going on for hours, until she finally falls flat onto the bed. You honestly have to say that you are dead tired as well. But there is still someone else in the room. One down (quite literally) and one more to go.

Looking at Miyeon, you are surprised, when you see her shaking slightly. Her eyes are shut tight, her teeth digging into her lips. Her hands twisting behind her back, while she trembles on top of the pillow. You realize that she is cumming, too. Not as hard as Soyeon, but hard enough that it rocks her body. The build up waves finally crash onto her. Drowning her in pleasure and arousal. Making her gasp for air.

Catching your breath, you wait a minute for Miyeon to calm down. When her eyelids flatter open, her eyes focus on you.

"Princess."

You slowly walk towards her, while using her pet name. She looks up at you. Desire and hope glistening in her dark orbs.

"Do you think you have been punished enough?"

"Yes, daddy."

Miyeon nods immediately. There is no way she can hold on for much longer. Her hunger for you slowly consuming her small body.

"Turn around."

It's not easy for her to do so. But her eagerness helps her. Once her back is facing you, you see her move her fingers.

"Is daddy going to get these off?"

You reach out to stroke her hair. She seems to relax a little at your touch. Once your hand reaches the back of her head, you suddenly hold her. In one motion you push her forward. You shove Miyeon head first into the mattress. Hearing her squeal in surprise turns you on even more. Your hand rests on her naked back, making it impossible for her to get out of this situation.

Teasing her labia with your cock, you bend down towards her ear.

"You fucked me without asking earlier. Now it's my turn."

You can't understand her response. Her voice muffled by your sheets. But the moan that escapes her lips is too loud to be soaked up by the sheets. As you push into her, you feel Miyeon squirm underneath you.

This is what she has been longing for, for the past thirty minutes. Since the moment you slipped out of her pussy. The feeling of your cock as deep as it would go inside her tight snatch.

Like the first time, bottoming out inside of Miyeon makes your head spin. Her tightness is unmatched.

"If princess cums like a good girl, I will untie her."

No answer. Only a lewd moan as you withdraw your cock almost entirely. You start out with slow and deep strokes. Similar to the way Miyeon was riding you earlier. Enough friction for the both of you to feel unbelievable pleasure. But at the same time too slow to satisfy your desires.

Miyeon's smooth walls clench onto your cock as you give her deep thrusts from behind. After a while you loosened your grip on her head, enabling the brunette to move it a little. Now her mouth isn't muffled by the sheets anymore.

"Daddy! Harder! Faster!"

It seems like those are the only words in her vocabulary right now. She repeats them over and over again. As if she is chanting a spell. With every trust you deliver, you fuck her harder. And with every word of hers, you fuck her faster.

Soon you are pounding Miyeon head first into the mattress. You know she loves it by the way her body twists in front of you. Sweat is making her bare back and shoulders sparkle in the light. Her brown hair starting to stick to her skin.

It's what Miyeon has been dreaming about, since you started to fuck Soyeon in front of her. To get used like a toy. To be a good princess. To take your cock like a good girl.

Putting one foot on the bed, you start to thrust harder.

"Oh my god!"

This way you somehow reach further into her depths. If you had to describe infinite pleasure, you would mention Miyeon's face. Her features are twisted. Her eyes rolling. Her mouth open, drooling onto your sheets. The princess like aura that you thought she had in the beginning has been washed away by the waves of pleasure. They hit her body over and over again.

"Cumming!"

Miyeon's high voice almost makes you lose your hearing. When she cums, her pussy almost squeezes the life out of you. You have to stop moving, afraid you are going to hurt her or yourself. It's almost painful as her tight snatch contracts around you. It feels wonderful at the same time. You can't help but groan as Miyeon shakes in front of you.

When she finally calms down from her high. You are still not moving. The brunette breaths heavily. Beats of sweat dropping from her cute nose onto the sheets.

"I think you have to let him go, princess."

You didn't even realize that Soyeon is now sitting next to Miyeon. You were too focused on punishing her. It seems like Soyeon's exhaustion is gone after she watched you rail her friend into oblivion.

"My turn."

Soyeon slowly helps you to retreat out of Miyeon's snatch. She is still too tight to move at a normal pace, so it takes a moment until you leave her. Her freshly fucked pussy looks delicious and you can't help yourself but give it a deep kiss. Miyeon moans into the sheets as she feels your tongue.

In that moment you feel Soyeon's tongue on your cock.

"Wow. Princess, you taste really good."

You can only agree as you push your tongue a little deeper into her tight cavern.

Unfortunately, you find yourself getting closer at Soyeon's work. Her skillful tongue playing with the tip of your cock, while her lips are wrapped around you.

"Wanna ride you."

No question. Not asking for permission. This girl is really something. Letting go off your cock, Soyeon moves aside so that you can lie down on the bed. She straddles your lap and a second later, you are inside of Soyeon once more.

"Oh gosh!"

She throws her head back as she rides you fast from the start. You can't do much else but hold her waist. To your surprise, you see a pair of quivering thighs enter your vision.

"Please daddy."

Miyeon keeps crawling backwards, until her pussy is right over your face. Moving your hands, you grab her butt, forcing her lower. Miyeon sits up straight, while she lowers herself onto your mouth. You give her a long lick up and down, before you focus your attention on her clit.

"Holy-"

Her curse is interrupted by Soyeon's loud moaning behind her.

While you eat out Miyeon, Soyeon keeps riding you. The two women moaning in tandem, as they both take pleasure from you. Soyeon's wet entrance coats your cock with her juices as she bounces on you. The brunette's hips buck against your face, desperate for more friction.

At one point, it feels like both of them are riding you at almost the same pace. You have to hold Miyeon down with her thighs, trying to make her cum. You feel her getting out of rhythm already. Because she still has her dress on, you can't see much of what's going on, but what you feel is more than enough. Your orgasm seems to be approaching. Slowly but steady.

Soyeon's work makes you groan into Miyeon's pussy, making the woman on your face finally cum again. She tugs at your hair desperately as more and more waves crash onto her small frame.

You grab her thighs harder, trying to prevent yourself from cumming in this moment. You might be leaving red marks on her creamy skin, but at this point the three of you are too far gone anyway. Soyeon impales herself over and over again with your cock. She spits out horrible curses as you feel her pussy getting wetter again.

You love the contrast between the two women. Soyeon is extremely wet and doesn't care what she says while she rides you. She only takes what she wants, not asking for your pleasure. Then there is Miyeon. She is unbelievably tight. Her cute face at odds with the filth that comes out of her mouth, when she is desperate. She is truly needy. Ready to do anything so that you keep pleasuring her.

Both of them are using your body. You don't complain as you feel yourself slowly trembling towards the edge.

"I'm gonna a cum."

You hiss into Miyeon's snatch, making her climax one more time. You don't know if its because you are eating her out, or the prospect of making you cum. Either way, she shakes on top of you.

Soyeon begins to slow down, breathing heavily. You only met the two of them about two hours ago, but you are sure that your climax doesn't mark the end of this activity.

As Miyeon collapses over your body again, Soyeon gets off your cock. Suddenly feeling her lips, you close your eyes.

"Come here, princess. You deserve a drop."

Miyeon acts surprisingly fast. In one motion, she turns around, still sitting on your face. You start to lick her folds again, hearing her moan deliciously. Then, you feel a second pair of lips on your cock. The two of them are making out with your cock from both sides. Their tongues twisting and playing.

At one point you are unable to keep pleasuring Miyeon. The only thing you can do is just lie there. It only takes a couple of moments.

Feeling your cock twitch, Soyeon takes you into her mouth, while Miyeon keeps working your shaft. You groan as you finally cum. Soyeon keeps sucking you as you shoot your cum into her mouth. She moans in satisfaction. When your head finally stops spinning, you hear the two of them kiss. It sounds like Soyeon is sharing some of your cum with Miyeon.

"Don't drop it."

It's the only thing she says and you are disappointed that you are unable to watch. Soyeon's hand at your base indicates that the two of them aren't done, though.

[bomberqueen17]

holding it down

currently am being held down in the chair by Chita, who was waiting patiently next to my recliner while i was in the other room packing up my clean laundry. I'm going back to the farm today, and need to leave sometime before noon to arrive in time for dinner. The only productive thing I really did this week is that last night I made a Vat of Borscht that i'm going to bring to serve for dinner tonight so my sister doesn't have to cook. anyway. Oop Chita just had enough of absorbing my body heat / qi (we joke that's what she's after, absorbing qi by sitting on people) and has transferred herself to the other chair, where she will sleep for six to ten hours without moving much. Her life is hard.

anyway wittering on behind cut

my dreamwidth crossposter broke so i should figure out how to set up an RSS thingy there, idk how to do that though. i think tumblr did something that broke how they do RSS and that's why the crossposter went down.

I'm trying Vyvanse again, a slightly higher dose. One pill a day, I can do. Yesterday I just felt scattered and ran around not getting things done. I did go double grocery shopping with Dude, and there was a Pokemon Go thing going on so I was catching cyndaquils while wandering through the grocery aisles, and i just-- sometimes I can feel that what I am doing is really bad for my attention span, and I could super feel that this was not helping me at all.

"I need to meditate," I said, sweating, on the ride home in the car. (It has been so hot. It was so hot yesterday. It was 87 and so humid and even with the ac in the car I was just sweating. ugh.)

"So meditate," Dude said, but I don't know how.

I probably should start writing in my journal again. I had been using a like day planner thing, and I was doing pretty poorly at it-- i'd write goals but they were never concretely connected to anything, and mostly I was writing down what I did after I did it, but at least that tied me to reality somewhat. So I should at least go back to that, I stopped the last week at the farm when things were so fucking hectic I didn't do anything but work, eat, and sleep.

I don't know if it helps but doing nothing doesn't help either.

And it's a lie to say I did nothing this past week. I was very off my game, but I did consult two different medical professionals for whatever that's worth, and I did manage to get past a huge writing block that's been deviling me for over a year really.

The horrible heat is supposed to break, which is good timing, because there is no climate control at the farm, and the only air-conditioned room is insufficiently conditioned and so is usually warmer than the surrounding spaces. I would have had a miserable week if I'd been there this past week, when it was over 90F most days and wasn't getting below 75F at night. (It was 81F here this morning at 6am, but it is supposed to rain and the day's high will only be 82. So.)

I did get some sewing done this week, though not as much as I wanted. I did a bunch of laundry. I did not clean the house or make any progress organizing any spaces, which were things I had wanted to do. But the writing, I can't describe how important getting that writing done was for me.

I'm having trouble being confident in my writing currently, a couple of scenes I feel are not emotionally true to what I was trying to say. I did rediscover some old notes though, and I think I've figured out what was bugging me in the Geralt/Emhyr scenes, and what I should work on with them. (I think the background information that Pavetta was an unhinged little gremlin monsterfucker and that was what formed Emhyr's id is really important and I have to work out how to incorporate that into everything going forward.)

I also keep finding myself yearning to write some original stuff. So we'll have to see, if I can get through the backlog of ideas in the Witcher stuff and start winding some of that up (??!!?!?!) then maybe there'd be some time to poke those ideas.

Anyway. Cat tax, here is what Chita looked like as I began this post, being a feline seat belt holding me into this chair:

[image description: small gray cat, head turned and eyes closed, is lying on my green-clad lap and has one paw outstretched toward the camera, touching the gray arm of the chair we're sitting in, holding me in position.]

[larcenywrites]

Headcanons | Raising a Baby Together

Tony Stark x Reader

Iron Man is a family man now! And his toughest battle yet is navigating parenthood while also juggling, like, the rest of the world. 

Warnings: One mild sexual reference

Family Man Series: 1  2 3

💠Tony warned you that he'd been a very fussy baby himself. He's still a fussy baby

💠You were starting to get worried, especially with how much your son kicked like he was throwing a tantrum when he was in the womb. 

💠But for the most part, he's actually a very happy baby. No issues taking a bottle (except for the few times you're pretty sure he'd rather just complain about it than eat), and no issues being put to bed. He still wakes you up crying a couple times a night, but that's pretty normal. 

💠But he must know that it's usually his dad that puts him to sleep at certain times. When Tony's gone, it takes an extra 15 minutes to get him to settle down. And it's not even because he's crying (usually); he's just staring at you or looking around. You swear he's looking for Tony, and he knows that's not you... but he does like you, too, so he'll allow it 😌

💠You and Tony both wake up as soon as you hear crying over the baby monitor. When Tony's home, he usually takes the night shift. Feels bad that you have to do everything when he's away, so he usually tries to do most of the work, or at least take the undesirable moments like this. 

💠You don't always let him. He's just as exhausted as you are, if not more.

💠Tony does love to listen to you over the baby monitor, though. 

💠He'll never admit to it, but hearing you talk and/or sing the baby back to sleep also puts him back to sleep. 🥺

💠If Tony's having trouble getting the baby to sleep, he picks up on the things you say and do. 

💠Eventually you catch him singing 

💠And humming tunes that he can remember his mom playing on the piano :(

💠Tony did a very good job changing diapers on those fake babies, so when he's on diaper duty for the first time, he's pretty sure he's got this! He's, like, a genius, so how hard could it be? 

💠He learned very quickly that he does, in fact, not have this. He's suddenly forgot everything he learned and which way it goes and now he's getting pissed on, so that's great. You'll have to help him out for a day or two

💠After about three months, Tony wants another. Even though you just had one. He isn't the one that has to carry it around for nine months 😤

💠It would be nice for them to grow up together and be (basically) the same age, though. And with Tony gone so much, at least they'd have each other when you were busy. 

💠Two babies when you're all alone will be a handful, though...

💠You do finally agree after some thought, and you're literally right in the middle of ✨working on it✨ when that familiar cry rings out. 

💠"I got it," you mumble, trying to remember where you put your robe. But you don't leave before giving him one last smooch. "I'll be back for you."

💠So now you're pregnant with another one and dealing with one. 

💠And dealing with Tony's misadventures on top of that. 

💠Sometimes you find him asleep at his computer with your son curled against his chest. Always dedicated and determined to do everything at once, your Tony. The exhaustion is clear on his face even while he's asleep. You carefully try to move his hand out of your way, but he's always been a light sleeper. 

💠And a grumpy one, too, when he first wakes up.

💠"Don't take my baby," he pouts. "I can do it." He knows it's way past everyone's bedtime. 

💠"You need to get to bed," you gently scold him.

💠"So do you."

💠Sometimes you can waste ten minutes arguing about who goes to bed first. It's not very productive. 

💠But then when your baby is yawning and stretching, you're reminded that someone needs to do it now.

💠You're half asleep on the couch when you think Tony is messing with you, and it's actually just your son gently grabbing at your nose and exploring your face. Tony thinks it's adorable, but he doesn't get so lucky. Instead, he's getting poked in the eye and a finger in his nose.

💠When your second one comes along, he's almost an exact year apart from his brother. 13 months apart! And thankfully just as happy as his brother. 

💠Some days can be... pretty hectic at the Stark household, though.

💠"Tony, I don't care if the sky is falling. You're staying here and helping me with your kids!"

💠Your oldest has just spilled cheerios on the floor from his high chair, and no, he's not sad about it; he thinks it's hilarious. This is not the first time he's done this. It's his favorite prank to pull. 

💠"Take your son!" You whisper-yell. You do not care that Tony is on a super important phone call. You do not care that he was only passing by very quickly to look for some document. You need to clean up, and your youngest refuses to be sat down without crying. He gives you that look, but knows better than to say 'no' and quickly takes his youngest from you with his phone now awkwardly wedged between his cheek and shoulder while digging through the desk with one hand and occasionally making silly faces to keep the baby from crying. Accidentally talks in his baby voice while he does it, and Natasha does not appreciate it. 

💠But other days are quiet. You're with your one-year-old on the floor, playing with shapes and dinosaurs and dolls while your one-month-old is quietly working on a bottle in Tony's arms.

💠No, the circle doesn't go in the square hole even though it fits. 

💠No, the triangle doesn't... either. Even though... it does fit, so he's technically not wrong for putting it in, huh? You both watch a hexagon go in before looking at each other. Maybe we need a new one. 😐

💠While your newest is still mostly immobile in your arms, his brother is clumsily walking after his dad. Tony was actually here when he took his first steps, and now nothing can stop him! Except for the wall. And the edge of the rug. And sometimes his own feet. Never cries when he falls, though, because dad's right there to help him up! 

💠Tony wasn't there for his first words, however :/ But luckily, you got it on video for him because he started babbling 'dada' 

💠Well, later he suddenly latched onto... juice? Everyone and everything was 'juice' for three days straight. It was funny, but you and Tony had to be careful jokingly calling each other 'juice' because your son would latch right back onto it. You're pretty sure he just thought it was funny, too. 

💠Oh, and the boys absolutely get jealous of one another already, and always want to be held by you or Tony. It's hard to have them both in your arms or on your lap but they'll appreciate it if you can manage. They don't fight one another or anything if they're both in your lap. They just get jealous that they aren't there, but their brother is. Or maybe they just want to be with each other? Either way, they always want attention. 

💠The first time they each hear JARVIS, they're frozen in place, brown eyes wide. Because who is that? Where are they at? It's kinda cute. They eventually get used to it, but they do always look around to figure out who dad is talking to. 

💠Both are very interested in the arc reactor in Tony's chest. It's shiny and blue and weird, so of course they want to grab at it and stare at it. You get worried it might be too bright for their brand-new eyes. If Tony isn't already wearing a shirt, he does try to keep the blanket they're swaddled in bunched over it or something like that. 

💠If he could dim it, he would. You've probably asked him like three times since he came home with it. It's like sleeping next to a nightlight 😪

💠Already has some pretty strong opinions on how he wants to raise his kids. There's probably only a few disagreements and compromises, but there's still quite a few years for things to change, so you tell him to chill out a little

💠There is one thing you can agree on. He never ever wants to send them to a boarding school like his dad did to him. Even if they do become a handful or unruly little assholes like he was. 

💠Is also pretty sure he doesn't want them to know anything about Iron Man. You're a little surprised. Their dad is a superhero! You figured he'd be latching onto having that glory. But he wants to be cool just because he's Dad :( He used to boast about it all the time, but now when he comes home he just wants to be home. It's hard to separate both lives when his suits are right downstairs and he sees them every day, but for you and his kids, he just wants to be Tony Stark

💠But either way, he'll do whatever it takes to take care of you guys and keep you safe ❤️

Family Man Series: 1  2 3

[ladylokilaufeyson5]

Beyond Rumours

Remus Lupin x Fem!Reader

Chapter Nineteen

Summary: Y/n is a Malfoy. A Pureblood. A pretentious, blood-status-loving Slytherin. At least, those are the rumours, but since when has Remus Lupin ever really cared about rumours?

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1.5K

A/N: hi! sorry i haven't been posting much lately, i had my exams which was stressful, my mental health has gone a bit downhill AND (worst of all) i am suffering from extreme writer's block.

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Y/N MALFOY

Friday, 11th of December 1977

I sat in Transfiguration, watching the snow fall rather than paying attention to Professor McGonagall or the lesson at hand. We were supposed to be turning our fairy cakes into fairies, and after a few attempts my mind had wandered. I knew I'd probably get chastised for it, but there was so much going on in my mind.

The first was the Yule Ball. I'd been so surprised when Remus had asked me that I'd said yes automatically and embarrassed myself slightly. I hoped that he didn't think about how desperate I'd been.

The second thing I'd been thinking about was Remus (even though the two were sort of interconnected). Over the past couple of days he'd seemed agitated and fidgety. He'd zoned out a lot and appeared to struggle to hold a conversation. Maybe he was having trouble sleeping, or was stressing about his N.E.W.T.s? I was sure he didn't need to stress that hard – he was the smartest person in his year, and he studied like it, too.

The third (and most frightening) thought plaguing my mind was my parents. I hadn't heard from them – or my brother – in quite some time now. Luckily I was staying at Hogwarts for Christmas due to the Yule Ball, and I wouldn't have to see them. But their silence was putting me on edge.

"Miss Malfoy, your fairy cake still appears to be mostly edible."

I looked up to see McGonagall standing in front of my desk. She wasn't wrong – the only difference to my cake was that it had wings, and was attempting to fly away. Unfortunately it was too heavy for the wings, resulting in the cake just wobbling around.

"Yes, sorry Professor," I mumbled, flicking my wand at the cake.

Well, at least it had a head now. But it was utterly terrifying. Regulus snorted from the desk beside me, but shut up after a sharp glance from the professor. McGonagall observed my cake for a moment longer before walking away, leaving me to throw it at Regulus's head, a high-pitched shriek escaping him. McGonagall didn't even turn around.

It wasn't just me who wasn't paying that much attention. Everyone was ready for the Christmas holidays, and it showed. While barely anyone in my year was going home for the holidays, every student was still buzzing with excitement. McGonagall could see this, and the usually strict witch didn't comment on any of it, instead just giving pointers and clarification.

When the bell for the end of the lesson finally rang, there was a flurry of motion as everyone jumped up and left the classroom, talking excitedly. I grinned at Regulus, as we left, excited for the holidays.

I had no idea what the next day would bring.

It started out normal. I woke up late, glad for the sleep in. I walked down to the common room with Lily, where we met Regulus. Lily informed us that the other boys wanted a longer sleep in, so we went down to the Great Hall, which was decked in Christmas decorations. Most of the younger students had left to go home, but those who were staying for the Yule Ball mingled around. Instead of the four house tables, there were two, leaving us all to interact. Luckily it seemed that the Slytherins had claimed the table to the left, so Lily, Reg and I went to the one on the right.

We stayed at breakfast for a while, eating at a leisurely pace, not worrying about getting to class. The boys arrived late, and I noticed the absence of a certain someone.

"Where's Remus?" I asked.

The three gave each other a quick glance, before James addressed me.

"Hospital Wing," he answered, spreading jam on his toast.

He raised his head and looked me dead in the eye, and I remembered the conversation we'd had a month previous. About Remus, and his secret illness. Had it flared up again? Once more, I was curious as to what it could be. Perhaps a recurring case of the Dragon-pox? It sounded ludicrous, but I was so hypnotised by it. I wanted to know what was going on.

Curiosity killed the cat, a part of my mind whispered.

I didn't question James any further, instead simply nodding in understanding. Regulus looked between James and I carefully, reading our faces and body language. I realised that our friend group had gone quiet, and that James and Sirius seemed to be having some sort of telepathic conversation.

Luckily, Mary and Marlene came down and sat with us, filling our silence with their energetic laughs. Well, really just Mary's laugh, as Marlene rested her head against the table with a groan.

"You've had a late start," Lily said slyly. "Do anything fun last night?"

"Party in the Ravenclaw common room," Mary replied, heaping bacon onto her plate. "Marlene didn't want to leave."

Marlene let out a series of grunts and Mary stroked her hair affectionately.

"Thanks for inviting us," Sirius scoffed.

Mary smirked. "Just not cool enough, I'm afraid."

Sirius rolled his eyes and Marlene let out another string of incomprehensive words. Mary seemed to understand, though, because she just chuckled.

"Don't worry, Marls. I know you only wanted to stay because of hottie Steve," Mary grinned.

Marlene smacked her best friend in the arm, finally lifting her head. She glared at Mary, but only half-heartedly.

"You know I was only there for you."

"And a certain Slytherin."

Marlene threw her friend a withering glare, but Mary smiled warmly at her friend before heaping food onto her plate. "Eat up. It'll make the hangover better."

Breakfast passed quickly and we all hung out in the Gryffindor common room, playing various games. James and Sirius seemed to be nearly asleep. The same couldn't be said for Peter, though – he'd fallen asleep face-first into the couch.

It was suspicious that they were all so tired – what had they been doing last night? They hadn't been at the party – they'd all gone to bed early, and Sirius had been upset that Mary hadn't invited them. Was Remus being sick tied into this, somehow? Were they maybe just up late, worrying about their friend?

It was just after lunch when Remus arrived in the common room, and smiled slightly at everyone before sitting next to Peter on the couch. The other three marauders as well as Lily all gave him concerned looks, but he shook his head subtly. Questions bubbled up inside me, but I kept my mouth firmly shut. I didn't want to make him uncomfortable – especially not in front of so many people.

Night time rolled around quickly and I lay in my bed in the Gryffindor Tower, staring up at the ceiling. Everyone else was asleep – I could hear their even breaths. I couldn't sleep, couldn't stop thinking about Remus, and his illness. What could it be? The thought plagued my mind, and I wished I had an answer. I didn't want to invade his privacy, but I was just so curious. Did it have something to do with his many scars? I knew he wore jumpers a lot to cover them up. Most of them were massive – there was one that stretched all the way from his collarbone down his navel. I'd noticed it when we'd gone swimming at the lake.

Curiosity killed the cat, my inner voice told me again.

I rolled over and faced the window, looking out and into the starry night beyond. The moon was full last night, and now a sliver of the glowing sphere had faded.

My mind drifted to James's words. Remus's illness, and that he didn't like to talk about it. I could never ask him – but I wanted to know. Why had it flared up, exactly a month later? And why had it taken him out for only a night? Why didn't it last longer?

The light of the moon filled the dorm room, and I stared up at it, trying to figure it out. Remus's illness, flaring up after a month, only his close friends knew...

The moon looked down at me, as if it knew the answer, as if it were mocking me. Mocking me, mocking me...

I was nearly asleep when it clicked. The moon. A month. The scars.

I sat bolt upright in bed, my eyes still on the moon, feeling much more awake now.

Scars all over his body. Scars from claws. The claws of an animal. A month since his last "flare-up" – or a whole moon cycle. From full moon to full moon.

Remus Lupin was a werewolf.

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[blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk]

Not sure if there's a limit on requests but I would love to see the circus troup and Ciel, Edward and Alois getting a hand made blanket from their s/o. Crochet or quilting as I do both. Getting to make and give gifts like that is one of my favorite things to do!

aaaaa there's no limit on how many you can send! but I did only do Alois, Ciel, and Edward for this one, because even a reaction style like I did, the limit is ten characters haha. pls feel free to send in the same thing for the circus babes when requests open again!

super side note I'm also a crocheter and I totally get it~ I've made a couple hats for my boss and I'm working on my first blanket! (I'm a lil slow but XD)

Oh, it’s — wait, it’s for him?? They’re not just showing off their work to him? Honestly, he would have been fine and just as impressed with his S/O letting him fawn over it for a bit. But… it’s his. They made it for him. There’s not one single, solitary moment in his life that he’s felt like someone cared about him, and suddenly… he’s feeling that in abundance. Nobody’s done anything like this for him before. (Name) loves him enough that they actually made something, by themself, by hand, specifically so they could give it to him. As soon as he processes all of that, he might actually cry. He can’t believe someone (and someone he deeply loves) poured so much time and effort into something for him. Of course, he’ll try feverishly to play it off or act like it really isn’t a big deal. However, his S/O is probably going to sleep in the same bed as him, right? So they’ll get to see firsthand how much he loves it; he uses that blanket every night, cuddling up with them, drowsily thanking them, and mumbling that loves them. Who knows? Maybe he’ll have to learn how to make something like this for them in thanks! Until he does, he’s content to just enjoy it and share it with them.

Well, that’s a nice gift… he was thinking about getting something like that for them. They could always share it. Somehow, he completely misses the fact that they didn’t buy it, they made it. He just expects presents which are bought, because that’s what people usually give him. As impersonal as some of those things are, the last time he got anything handmade was… a very long time ago. So long ago that he doesn’t even remember what it was. So when his S/O tells him that this blanket is something that they made for him, he’s stunned. It’s not something he expected. He just… doesn’t quite understand at first? Why would they go to all that trouble, when they could just go out and buy a blanket? It’s not really that he’s missing the point. It simply catches him off guard. Then he thinks more about it. The fact that they spent hours, days, weeks, maybe months making it… they spent time and work on something for him. To him, time is more precious than money; meaning a gift like this means more to him than he particularly wants to show. He’s actually careful not to use it so much that he wears it out. This blanket is only for special occasions, only used for cuddling with (Name), when he’s sick, or when he’s incredibly emotional. It… makes him feel better.

Goodness, how lovely. Did they really make this? It looks like they put a lot of work into it! Even if it’s not perfect, he doesn’t really care about that. It’s perfect to him, because it’s something his darling (Name) created. Much like Ciel (and you’d be pulling teeth to get him to admit any similarities), Edward isn’t necessarily accustomed to receiving handmade gifts like this. Most of the things his family or past partners have given him are store-bought, which of course isn’t bad, but… it’s sort of flattering, that his S/O wanted to put a lot of their time into making something for him. As far as he’s concerned, it’s the same as someone baking a cake for him — they did it to make him happy, because they thought he’d like it, and they spent a lot of time on it. He admires it for a good long while, perhaps even being a bit silly and briefly wrapping himself up in it. Then he smiles as he stores it away in the bedroom, ready to be used. While it’s not one that he uses every night, he wants to use it since they made it for him. Maybe every other night? It was made to be used, after all. And it’s very comfortable. Perhaps if he keeps it in good condition, it will last for a long, long time.

[ohblackdiamond]

"c'mon, get your feet wet" (ace/peter) (nc-17)

“Gene’s been buying Paul cute little outfits. I saw ’em.”

Peter snorted.

“He would go for that shit.”

“Blouses. And a couple dresses, too. Like he was a real girl, what the hell.” Ace shook his head. “I bet he even got Paul some lingerie. What would you go for?”

Sequel to "shock them, show them." After his tryst with Paul, a still-sexswapped Ace heads to Peter's house for room and board, and a little company.

This features the most uncoordinated member of KISS attempting sex in the shower. I'm sorry.

“c’mon, get your feet wet”

by Ruriruri

Ace left Paul’s place quicker than he’d initially intended. Partially because of Gene’s oncoming arrival, but also because he’d gotten what he’d come for. He’d figured some things out. He’d figured out sleeping with another girl wouldn’t end the curse. 

It hadn’t been the main reason he’d fooled around with Paul, but it had been a reason. A theory to test out. Too bad. Less than a day in, and Ace’s chest was already starting to get on his nerves. His breasts weren’t big at all– when he’d looked down at himself, there was almost nothing to them, and when he’d cupped one, it didn’t even quite fill up his hand– but they felt huge just because they were there when they shouldn’t be. They had felt huge since that morning, and that feeling had only faded when he’d come up to Paul’s a bit later on. That poor bastard’s tits were actually huge. They had even bounced some during their tryst. Ace wondered if they were making his back hurt.

Wondering about Paul’s tits. Not the most constructive use of his time right now. Ace sighed, mechanically going through his limited options as he changed lanes. His material possessions currently consisted of his wallet, his keys, his car, his wedding ring (too loose for his finger now, so it was now on his left thumb), and his clothes (half of which were borrowed from Paul). He had the cash to hunker down in a hotel for awhile. He could turn around and stay at Paul’s free of charge, and grimly expect to end up watching Gene moon over Paul for however long this lasted. Or he could go to Peter’s. 

Peter was having his usual wife trouble. Or rather, Lydia was having her usual Peter trouble. Ace couldn’t really blame Lydia. Mellow as Ace was, he probably would’ve outright left Peter a long time ago if he’d been a chick.

Well. He was one right now. He wondered if he’d risk her being there to greet him at the door– Lydia, of course, had met his whole family more than once, so he couldn’t pass himself off as his older sister or anything– then decided he’d go ahead. He was sober enough that he could think up a good excuse for her. He was sober enough to think up anything.

–

It might, Ace decided later, have been a good idea to call Peter up before showing up at his doorstep. Peter’s expression at seeing Ace there was even worse than when he’d finally recognized Paul.

“Jesus Christ. Ace?!”

Peter looked utterly horrified. Ace was a little horrified, too, for a different reason. Jeanette and Paul had always been shorter than him, so he hadn’t had a really good reference for how much height he’d lost until standing in front of Peter. Peter, who he was now at eye-level with. 

Damn. Tall for a chick didn’t even register as average for a guy. Not a new revelation, but thoroughly depressing.

“Whatever Paul’s got, I caught,” he said in response, catching how Peter’s gaze was flickering from his face down the length of his body, non-existent tits and even more narrowed shoulders and skinny legs and all. “Gimme a beer.”

“How? I mean, did you sleep with that chick, too?”

“Nah. I just caught it. C’mon, Petey,” and he ended up brushing past him, heading from the foyer into the kitchen, and getting a can of beer out of the fridge for himself, then one for Peter. “Help me out over here.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay.” He sat down in Peter’s living room and took a long swallow of the beer. It had been too long, an hour or more, since he’d had the two at Paul’s. He wanted something heavier, really, but it had occurred to him that in this body, his tolerance was probably shot in comparison. “I stopped at Paul’s earlier. Figured he needed to know first.”

Peter nodded slowly. Ace handed him the other can of beer, which he took and popped open without his gaze ever leaving Ace’s face as he sat down beside him. Ace tried to smile.

“C’mon, man, you knew I wasn’t gonna have any boobs–”

“You look fine.”

“You think? Paul’s mirror could’ve been a little more flattering–”

“Screw Paul,” Peter mumbled idly. 

“I already did.”

Peter gave him a long look, and then he laughed, shaking his head. 

“I mean, he did this to you.”

“He didn’t mean to. I told you, I just caught it. I know I never got with that chick.” Ace tended to get with less women than Paul in general, for one, and his preference on the road was tall, skinny brunettes. Not that he wouldn’t deviate occasionally, but… he just couldn’t see it. If the girl had gotten with him, too, they probably would’ve been cursed at the same time. That was the logic he was operating under, at least. But maybe he was wrong, maybe curses didn’t operate under any logic. 

“How would you catch it when you were only in the same room with him for a couple hours?”

“I dunno. Maybe he’s just suffused with magic or some shit. Like, like a lightning rod. Or a battery, like you just gotta tap in.” Ace shrugged. “The wires probably just got crossed. It doesn’t really matter as long as we both get back in the end.”

Peter inclined his head briefly, but didn’t look too convinced.

“How do you feel?”

“Lighter? Shorter? I don’t fucking know.” He could already tell that the beer wasn’t going to loosen him up appropriately. In front of Paul, a man who was a ball of nerves even when he was normal, and had, in his opinion, only gotten worse since the curse, he could relax in compensation. Equal and opposite reactions. In front of Peter, it was harder to put on. He took another long swallow. “How long can you put me up, Curly? I got sixty bucks in my wallet.”

“No charge.”

“No time limit? Whatcha gonna do about Lydia?”

“Aw, shit.” Peter pursed his lips. “You got any cousins you can pretend to be?”

“Not any that look like me.”

“Lydia won’t know the difference.”

“I’m not that good at faking it. When’s she coming home? I’ll get a hotel before she gets here.”

“She’ll be back on Monday. Don’t worry about it right now. You hungry?”

Ace’s only sustenance had been the beer at Paul’s and the beer he was currently swilling down. He shook his head, only for his stomach to gurgle loudly.

“Do you have any Valium? Paul took a lot out of me.” He didn’t wait for an answer, already getting up  trudging towards the narrow kitchen cabinets above the stove, where Peter kept most of the drugs he actually had prescriptions for. Only Peter stood, too, holding up a hand to block him from tugging open the cabinet door.

“I ain’t giving you Valium right now.”

“Petey, c’mon.”

“No.”

“I’m not asking for coke, Jesus. I just wanna take the edge off.”

“Uh-uh.”

Ace stood there in silence for a moment or two, mouth tense, before giving up and heading back to the couch, to finish off the rest of the beer instead. All Peter was allowing out of him so far.  Funny how Peter had seen him bombed out of his mind and blackout drunk probably fifteen times just this year, but couldn’t bear to let him pair a single beer with benzos now. Did he come off as that fragile, or was what was left of Peter’s conscience rearing its head?

“You’d give it to me yesterday. Hell, you’d give it to a groupie if she batted her eyes real cute.”

“I don’t wanna see you falling over and passing out while you’re like this, that’s all.”

“I’ll be your Sleeping Beauty. Wake me up with true love’s kiss.”

“You better settle for a hamburger,” Peter retorted, and sauntered off to the fridge.

–

Ace watched Peter make the hamburgers on the stove, not without some interest. He had never learned to cook himself, and, up until they’d first all been stuck on the road together with no budget, had figured none of the rest of the guys could, either. As it turned out, Paul and Peter could make a rough go of it, if they really had to. Peter was even taking the extra step of chopping up some onions and tossing them in the pan with the hamburger patties.

He wondered if another beer would be pressing his luck. He was proven right when Peter handed him a Pepsi along with the hamburger.

“Y’know, if you keep me this close to sober I might get depressed,” Ace managed to crack as he popped the top. Peter, he’d noticed, had barely touched the beer he’d given him prior.

“Half the band has tits now. I think we all better stay sober.”

Responsibility from Peter felt like ice water right on top of his head. Ace opted to change tactics, shifting on his barstool perch by the kitchen island. Harder to get comfortable somehow. Peter was sitting beside him instead of in front of him.

“Gene’s been buying Paul cute little outfits. I saw ’em.”

Peter snorted. 

“He would go for that shit.”

“Blouses. And a couple dresses, too. Like he was a real girl, what the hell.” Ace shook his head. “I bet he even got Paul some lingerie. What would you go for?”

“You eating that, to start off with.”

“You’re taking this pretty damn well. Do you get off to it like Geno does?”

Peter didn’t answer. Ace didn’t know why he was doing that to Peter. Pricking at him in that halfassed way of his when all he’d done was be kind enough to let him stay there. It wasn’t entirely because of his enforced borderline-sobriety. Ace didn’t push, taking a bite of the hamburger, and then another. The meat was a little pink, but he didn’t complain, retrieving ketchup and mustard from the fridge and dousing it liberally on the burger. At least he had about the same appetite: too much of one, for his overall build. Still a mass of very skinny limbs paired up with a slightly pouchy gut.

“Jeanette really flipped,” he heard himself say out of nowhere. “I didn’t even know what happened, man, I was still asleep and she was screaming at me in bed. I woke up, y’know, I-I figured it out pretty quick. I tried to tell her. She… she was terrified. She had a flashlight she was gonna brain me with. I said, ‘c’mon, I’m Paul, I’m your husband’... nothing. I was picking stuff up off the dresser and explaining what it was and trying to tell her, to prove it… I’m lucky I even got clothes and the keys. I’m lucky she didn’t call the cops on me.”

He felt Peter’s hand rest on his shoulder, and stiffened up just momentarily. 

“Peter, I…” Ace swallowed. “I’m fucking terrified, okay? I told Paul it was all right, but that’s bullshit. This sucks. It fucking sucks. And not… I don’t care about how I look that much. I just can’t do what I wanna do. I can’t really drink, you won’t let me get high…”

“That’s for your own good, Ace.”

“And I can’t… Jeanette, we… right now, I couldn’t even have her the way I’d wanna. Even if she did believe me, ’s not fair to her. She wouldn’t want me as a chick. I know that much.”

He was twisting the wedding band on his thumb without even realizing it. He’d only been married a year now. He had tried and failed at avoiding groupies, but Jeanette, for her part, had let it go as long as it stayed on-tour. No weird chicks calling at their house. Jeanette had never cared much about his occasional fooling around with Bobby– that had, in all honesty, started before their dating– but girlfriends were another matter. He knew he wasn’t doing her right regardless, but at least he wasn’t like Zappa. He hadn’t had any women he’d see for more than the night of a concert. 

For at least a couple brief moments, before “Beth” really exploded, he’d thought they might settle down a little bit and ease up on the tours, even. Have a kid. It had been an eventuality before, but now that the option was completely off the table, he mourned it. It was a funny, peculiarly feminine thing to mourn. Maybe it was the hormones, or maybe it was the beer.

Either way, he hated giving in like this, hated confessing like this, even to Peter. Self-doubt he ought to be able to chase off with champagne. Couldn’t even do that anymore. All his vices down the drain, sacrificed to the altar of his current body.

Paul had made out so much better than he had. Still had his house and his car and all that, for now. Even had Gene willing to accompany him wherever he needed to go. Play boyfriend to someone who wouldn’t even give it up. He could tell from how tense Paul had been with him that he’d never come close to letting Gene. All Gene was getting out of the arrangement was a little play-pretty dress-up. Gene was such a sucker, in his way. Ace sighed.

“I wanna… I wanna feel like there’s still something I can do just the same, y’know?”

“There is. C’mon downstairs.”

Ace looked at Peter for a long moment, then nodded, getting up from the barstool. He picked the Pepsi up before following him down the stairs.  Either side of the walls held an odd mishmash of paraphernalia– normal stuff like his and Lydia’s wedding, their respective baby pictures, family photos, and then KISS photos and gold albums and a couple newspaper headlines and articles.

“Aren’t you worried I’m gonna pass this on to you?”

“Nah. I’d make too ugly a girl,” Peter said, then laughed.

“We’d need a new band name. Hugs or some shit like that.” Ace traced a finger across his own glass-encased face on one of the photos. “Bill and Sean’d kill us.”

“They would,” Peter said, sounding distracted. The basement was decorated with a tastefulness Ace wasn’t too sure Peter actually possessed. Wood paneling everywhere. Potted plants. Nice, plush furniture. Peter gestured towards the loveseat. “Sit down. Close your eyes.”

Ace closed his eyes, then exaggeratedly puckered out his lips. He felt Peter flick a finger against his cheek.

“Cute, Ace.”

“Be still my fucking heart.”

“Stay there.” Ace heard the creaking of a door, then Peter rummaging around for a bit before that door closed again. “Now hold out your hands.”

“Petey, if you’re handing me your dick, you don’t need me to close my eyes to jerk it off, trust me.”

“Maybe later. Just hold ’em out for me.”

Ace felt the familiar weight of wood against his lap a moment later. He didn’t have to wait for Peter to arrange his hands around the instrument to know what it was.

“Open your eyes.”

A guitar. A beat-up Silvertone acoustic, about the only guitar Peter even had. It was a leftover from early on that had ended up at his and Lydia’s old apartment, that Ace had kept meaning to pick up but never bothered to, and so it had moved with them to Connecticut, stuck in its case in the basement.

“Out of tune, yeah?”

“You’re the last one that played it.”

The tone was still there, at least. Ace tuned it within a minute or two, then messed with the beginning of a solo. Just fooling around. “Paperback Writer.” That had been one of the first songs he’d ever picked out, back when he was a teenager. It was easy. Most of the earlier Beatles stuff was. The intro to “Satisfaction” next– gratified when Peter started to tap out the rhythm on the arm of the couch. The notes were coming out okay. Not beautiful, but okay. Something was off, and he already knew what it was.

“My parents, they wanted me to learn piano.” 

He said it quietly, as though he didn’t expect Peter to answer. 

“How’d you get out of it?”

“I said it was faggy,” Ace admitted. “Everybody in my family plays something. We’re all musicians. My sister and Charlie took piano lessons, y’know, before Charlie got into playing guitar and started music school. But I… soon as I got an electric guitar, and a little Japanese amp, that was it. I was gone. Aw, Jesus, I don’t know why I’m telling you this, Peter.”

“Why not? I wanna hear it.”

“We had a piano in the house, right, and sometimes I’d still try to play by ear a little, but…” he trailed, suddenly helpless. “I couldn’t reach past an octave.”

“Sure, that’s because you never learned how.”

“You don’t get it. That’s how it is right now. My fingers don’t stretch as far anymore. I can play okay, but the feel’s all off.” He handed the guitar back, guilt mingling with the bile somewhere in his throat. Peter was trying. He was trying so damn hard to cheer him up. Why couldn’t he just fake it in front of him? Try and laugh it off, the way he had with Paul? Why couldn’t he fall into the old routines? He shook his head, half at himself. “L-let’s go to 54, okay? You and me. We’ll… we’ll relax, we’ll find that Carol chick, and…”

“Not right now, man.”

“Don’t tell me not right now.” God. His voice was getting more shrill by the second. He took a deep breath. “’M okay. ’M okay. No wife, no money, no band, no dick, no tits, but I’m okay. It’s funny. I don’t cheat on her half as bad as you cheat on Lyd but I-I–”

Peter reached for him. Ace got up, stumbling past him and hurrying up the stairs, heading towards the front door. Peter grabbed his arm before he could open it. 

“Ace, don’t be an idiot!”

“I’m just gonna drive.”

“No!”

Peter had both his arms now. Ace yanked, and yanked hard, but couldn’t pull away. He remembered, sickly, that time on Paul’s front porch. Paul had tried to pin him up against the door. It had been laughable, downright cute, seeing that pretty brunette glaring up at him furiously, standing on his foot like he couldn’t have overpowered her without even trying, if he’d really wanted to–

“Would you stop treating me like a fucking chick?!”

“I’m not!”

“You are. You and everybody else.” Thinking about how Paul had pulled the old Starchild treatment on him made his face burn now. “You think I’m gonna crash?”

“No.”

“Think I’m gonna get drunk and pass out in an alley somewhere?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“If I did that yesterday, you wouldn’t have cared. Do tits count for that much in your book?”

Peter looked like he was about to snap back there for a second or two. But he didn’t. That was surprising. Peter could pop off at anything. Always had some retort. Just like Paul, only there was never any calculation behind his words, just pure reaction. But Peter didn’t say anything, just finally let go of his arms. Ace stood there, and then he shook his head. 

“At least let me get drunk, Peter. Lemme do that much. I won’t leave. You can even have my keys. Okay?”

Peter looked at him for a long moment, and then, barely, shook his head.

“You got a real problem here, Ace.”

“No shit, Sherlock. One more beer.”

“Gimme your keys.”

Ace handed them over. The jangle of the keys had a finality about it. Like a prison. Peter’s expression, disturbed, uncomfortable, seemed to sink in Ace’s soul as he stuck them in his pocket.

“One beer,” Peter said, with obvious reluctance. 

–

Ace only drank half of it. It didn’t taste great when he’d had to twist Peter’s arm to get it. Peter looked like he felt so damn sorry for him that it was annoying, especially when Ace knew Peter was worse off than him with the harder stuff. 

Peter didn’t take another drink at all, just sidled next to him on the couch on the main floor. Ace flicked on the T.V. after awhile, and they watched Columbo fumble through L.A. in silence for twenty minutes or more.

“I’m sorry, Ace.”

“What for?” Ace kept his eyes fixed on the screen. Mr. Clean was demonstrating stain removal for an overwhelmed housewife.

“I don’t wanna hold you hostage. I just wanna make sure you’re okay.”

“’M fine.”

Peter seemed to hesitate. 

“I thought… I thought if you wanna, we could see a movie or something.”

Ace usually took Peter to the movies. Or he had, before they’d gotten big. The two of them on a rare off day from concerts and rehearsals, heading into a near-empty theater in the early afternoon to watch a horror movie. That was their thing. One of their things, anyway. One of the few that only incidentally involved getting drunk when Ace would sneak in a couple liquor bottles inside his trenchcoat.

“I don’t feel that fine.”

“Star Wars is out. You said you wanted to go see that.” Peter stretched. “That guy from Bridge on the River Kwai is in it.”

“William Holden?”

“No, the British guy.”

Ace pursed his lips.

“I thought he was dead.”

“Hell if I know. It’s supposed to be a good movie.”

“Not today.” Ace stood abruptly. “I gotta piss. Lemme know if Columbo gets the guy while I’m gone.”

Peter nodded. Ace headed for the bathroom (after three and a half drinks between Paul and Peter, he really did have to go), albeit not the main one on the floor. Instead, he went to the master bathroom off from Peter and Lydia’s bedroom. After he’d washed and dried his hands, he pulled the mirrored medicine cabinet open, thumbing through more of Peter and Lydia’s prescriptions. Valium– funnily enough, they both had a prescription for that shit. Some old antibiotics. Peter had some amphetamines and various pain pills too. Nothing especially illicit, though Ace knew that Peter couldn’t ever keep a stash of coke or heroin for very long at all.

He unscrewed the cap of one of the bottles of Valium, tipping two pills into his hand. Should be enough that he wouldn’t give a shit about anything at all for several hours. He was about to take them when the cabinet door swung forward suddenly, just enough that he was forced to really face his own reflection for the first time since brushing his hair at Paul’s.

A girl’s face stared back at him, a girl’s face that didn’t look dissimilar enough to his own to really startle him much. Her complexion was uneven and noticeably quite scarred, her nose was too big, and she had narrow, dark brown eyes and a fat bottom lip. Nowhere near a knockout, but she could’ve still been sort of pretty with a little makeup. But she looked– nervous. Scared. He had never seen that expression on his own face before. It made his stomach curdle.

Was this how things were going to be from now on, if he didn’t get fixed? He’d never stooped to taking someone else’s pills before. He’d never had to. They were always available, whenever he wanted. He’d never needed to steal them, or sneak them, or beg for them. It had never even occurred to him. 

Would he be able to stay with Peter? Or would Peter just put him up in a hotel after awhile? He’d fiercely resented Peter trying to monitor him, but the thought of being left alone was suddenly even worse. He.. he could end up like one of the druggie groupies, just flitting around cheap motels and communes and whatever else. Worse. He might end up selling himself. If he was already begging Paul and Peter for booze and Valium after less than twenty-four hours of not having either at arm’s length… 

His throat felt tense and hot. He leaned against the counter, taking a shuddering breath, and dropped both pills into the sink, turning on the tap before he could change his mind. He barely even heard the knock on the door. 

“Ace? You okay in there?”

Peter. Quickly, he twisted the cap back on and stuffed the bottle back in the medicine cabinet, swinging the cabinet door shut. 

“Everything’s fine! E-everything’s fine.”

He heard the creak of the bathroom door before he saw Peter through the mirror’s reflection, noting absently how even a small, compact guy like Peter looked more intimidating compared to him now. Ace tried to rearrange his expression to something neutral as he turned around to face him.

“You’ve been in here awhile, is all.” Peter’s mouth was pursed. He looked like he was searching Ace’s face. Ace glanced away for a moment.. “I thought you might need something.”

“’M not on the rag.” Ace watched Peter’s face go florid, but somehow, the urge to laugh just wasn’t there. He blinked several times in succession, suddenly aware of how watery his eyes were. The tenseness in his throat hadn’t gone away. “Petey, could you c’mere?”

Peter took a couple steps forward, until he was standing beside him.

“Could you…”

Helpless. So damn helpless. Ace reached over, wrapping his arms around Peter, pressing his face hard against his shoulder. He wasn’t quite crying– the tears didn’t seem quite able to come, but he was on the verge enough that his breaths were hitching, uneven, and it only got worse when Peter’s arms wrapped around his waist in turn. 

“Lemme stay here,” Ace heard himself say, muffled by Peter’s shirt, “please, I can’t, I-I’ll fuck it up, you’re right, don’t leave me, don’t…”

“Who said anything about leaving you?”

Peter’s voice was softer than normal. His hand rubbed circles against Ace’s back. Peter had never done that before. Some sabotaging part of Ace mumbled that Peter was treating him like a girl, just like Paul had. But he knew better. Peter was just treating him like Ace.

“I told you not to worry about it, didn’t I? I won’t leave you by yourself. We’ll take care of everything, I swear. I don’t care how much fucking voodoo we gotta go through.”

“What if I don’t get better? And, and Paul, what’s gonna happen? Petey, I-I can’t, I can’t stay like this, I’m gonna, gonna get into trouble–”

More slow circles against his back. More tenderness than he’d ever thought Peter had in him. Sentimental, hotheaded Peter, who’d given all the guys a long-stemmed rose their first night at the Garden. Peter, who was more into coke and heroin and less into booze than he was, and despite that was trying to protect him. Ace inhaled deeply against Peter’s shirt, smelling sweat and leftover cologne, as Peter answered. 

“I got you. I got you, okay? No matter what.”

“The band–”

“The band don’t matter like you do.”

It was an effort to pull his face away from Peter’s shirt. He looked up at Peter, blinking hard a few times more, letting go of him with one arm while the other found his shoulder instead. Another deep breath. 

“You could really break a girl’s heart, y’know?”

He didn’t give Peter a chance to respond, reaching to cradle his chin in his hand, lift it up like he still needed to, before he kissed him. Not hard or rough, just needy, just wanting. Peter’s kiss back was surprised but fervent, even when Ace deepened it. Kissing him, touching him, came easy as always. Nothing they hadn’t done before a hundred times, and yet Ace had never felt this level of yearning. He didn’t understand it. Tried not to question it. Only a couple hours ago, he’d been messing around with Paul. But it hadn’t been like this, not remotely.

“I better wash up anyway, ’m pretty gross right now.”

“You really did sleep with him?” Peter shook his head, clearly amused.

“I really did. Put it on my tombstone.” Ace’s gaze drooped down to his own bare feet on the tile, and he took a breath. Any minute and Peter would head out the door. Another of their old routines disrupted. If he could only steel himself up one more time… “Hey, Peter…”

“Yeah?”

“You can come with me.” 

Peter looked at him carefully. 

“You’re not asking me to wash your back.”

“I think my front looks a little better right now. I swear I’m still not half as hairy as–”

“Ace…”

Peter wasn’t letting him get away with it. No more jokes. No more messing around. Ace licked suddenly-dry lips, his fingers toying with the hem of his old yellow t-shirt. Make me feel better. Make me feel good. Make me feel okay. 

Make me feel like you always did. Like you can’t help but do. Make me feel worth wanting. 

It was too tall an order to ask out of Peter, or anyone else. He didn’t voice it, clearing his throat.

“I wanna be with you. Do you wanna be with me?”

“Yeah. I do.”

Ace pulled open the shower door, turning on the faucet.

“There’s not much eye candy, I gotta warn you.”

“Lemme be the judge of that, Ace.”

Ace tugged off his shirt. Fuck. He should’ve suggested the bed instead of the shower. This was somehow much more exposing. He had felt a mixture of pity and mild inadequacy in front of Paul, even though Paul hadn’t exactly had any other options. In front of Peter, who, like Paul, preferred his girls tall, blonde, and busty, he bit his lip.

“See? Nothing. I make Twiggy look like Dolly Parton.”

Peter reached over, cupping one breast, lightly tweaking one nipple. Ace didn’t have too much sensation there, really, but just getting touched sent a little warmth through his skin.

“You’ve got enough to grab, that’s all you need.” Peter’s fingers slipped down, tracing the space between his breasts, down to the bit of stomach fat that had crept up gradually over the course of the last few tours, down to his jeans, which he unbuttoned and unzipped. Ace took a breath, smelling the leftover notes of Peter’s aftershave, opting to start on Peter’s clothes instead of peeling off his own, not really taking his time with it. Peter had on an Yves Saint Laurent button-down that paired amusingly with his faded blue jeans. Peter tossed the top behind him, and it landed on the sink. 

“I bet that’s dry clean only.”

“I don’t care,” Peter said.

“Don’t treat me different, okay? I can take it.”

“I know you can.”

Peter kissed him. His fingers returned to Ace’s jeans, helping him step out of them.

“Do you own any underwear at all, man?”

“Nope.” Completely naked now. Peter yanked down his own jeans and underwear at the same time, tossing them aside. His eyes were scouring Ace’s body like there was anything to look at. Rather than give him any more of an opportunity there, Ace stepped into the shower, where at least he’d be obscured by the steam. Peter followed, closing the door behind him.

It was an old routine for the three of them. Him and Peter and Paul. Group showering after a concert. They hadn’t done it as often the last tour or two, but it was still a common enough thing. Stupid shit. Smacking each other with washcloths. Handjobs. Blowjobs. It had never escalated to fullblown sex when it was the three of them in there. But when Paul couldn’t be bothered to show, and they were both high, it occasionally did.

Ace still couldn’t get over being eye-level with Peter. Peter wasted no time, mouth on his, hands roaming his chest, tracing his side all the way down to his hip. The water beat down insistently in a rhythm all its own, soaking his hair and back, hardly getting anywhere else for now. 

“You’re cute, Ace.”

“Petey, I’d be the last girl left in the Coop and you fucking know it.”

“We ain’t in the Coop.” Peter’s hand slipped between Ace’s thighs, and he murmured approvingly. “Shit, you really do need cleaning up.”

“Told you.” Ace took a step back from Peter, just enough to expose more of his body to the showerhead. Peter, meanwhile, reached for the washcloth and soap, and started to lather him up, surprising Ace by starting with his breasts and moving down from there. Despite the warmth of the water, Ace’s nipples were hard. Unsurprisingly, so was Peter.

“What was it like?”

“Sex with Paul? It was nice. He kept going at it like he still had a dick. Wore himself o–ahh.” Peter had chosen that moment to get rid of the last remaining evidence of that escapade. Ace’s thighs twitched as the soft cotton washcloth was replaced by Peter’s hand again, hips rocking slightly forward with each curious move of his fingers. Ace took another step back, then another, until his back was to the wall. “No, c’mon, c’mon, I just don’t wanna fall in here.”

“I won’t let you fall.” Peter’s other hand was steadying his shoulder. Quick laps against his neck, a couple stray kisses, all washed away, but Peter’s main focus, thankfully, was fingering him. He wasn’t nearly as cautious as Paul had been, starting out; he seemed to know almost on instinct how much Ace wanted to be filled. Plunging into him, crooking two, three fingers inside him– Ace was grunting against him, tugging him in by the shoulder, pressing their bodies in as close as he could, Peter’s hard-on against his leg a welcome promise.

“Fuck, Peter…” It hadn’t taken long to find that perfect rhythm. He was soaking, every touch felt like an electric shock, the headiness of the steam making him almost dizzy, legs wobbling, leaving him grasping Peter desperately as he groaned out his release. Peter was smiling. 

“I never get tired of seeing you come, man.”

Ace was panting too much to respond at first. It hadn’t been as intense with Paul. Maybe it was just the heat of the shower, and being upright. Maybe. All the warmth was still right there, pooling in his stomach.

“Come on. I’ll let you. Right now.” Ace could tell his words were soft, maybe a little tinny. He didn’t care, looking around for something to brace against. The shower was pretty big, but all he could bear down on besides the wall was the little bar for washcloths, right below the niche for soap and shampoos, and the bar on the door. Peter could probably manage to hold him up for awhile, if he had to, but that wasn’t all that was concerning him. Nerves, that was all, nerves and– wanting something to stay a little closer to the same, even when nothing else had. He turned around, facing the wall, spreading his legs a bit more, knees slightly bent. 

“You’re filthy,” Peter said, want and amusement in every syllable. Ace grabbed the washcloth bar with one hand, his other hand against the blue mosaic shower tile. He could feel Peter’s hand on his hip (and a cursory grope of his ass) as he angled into position. He turned as Peter nuzzled against his neck, meeting him for a wet kiss before Peter started to enter him.

Oh. Oh, fuck. Ace gripped the bar like a lifeline. Nothing like fingering. No comparison. Nothing like anal, either. Peter was taking it slow– Ace knew he was– but Ace’s breaths were coming in short bursts as he was filled, a weird, pinching kind of pain at first edging out the pleasure of it. Peter felt absolutely massive, closer to the nine inches he’d always claimed than Ace had ever believed. For a second he almost thought it was going to be too much for him. He pressed his forehead on the tile in a bid to keep his focus, keep from buckling. But the more he let himself relax, the more that pain ebbed. Peter’s first few thrusts were shallow, only building up when Ace began to groan in earnest.

“All right there?”

“All right. ’S all right.” His toes twitched. Peter had hit some spot inside him, one that made the pleasure suddenly burst firework-bright. He cursed loudly, fearful he’d slip, and now both Peter’s hands were on his hips, warm, wet, and firm.

“Steady, Ace. You got it.” Peter’s breath was hot against the back of his neck, all the encouragement Ace needed. Another couple thrusts left Ace reeling in a heady haze of need, the tiles blurring out in front of him as he came again, with no warning but a few more gasps.

“Peter, you haven’t–”

“It’s okay.”

“Keep going, keep going. I can take it. Hurry.”

Ace could feel Peter’s hesitation. Peter actually let go of his hips for a second or two, though he hadn’t pulled out.

“Ace, you don’t gotta worry about pleasing me.”

“I wanna please me, too. One more.” Ace could feel a smile tugging up the corners of his mouth, as he burst into his next request. “Cat, I wanna see you.”

“Turn around.”

“I will, once you get your dick out of me.” 

Peter complied. Ace was already wobbling as he turned, the sudden emptiness leaving him with a cold, funny feeling, but Peter immediately worked him back into position, pressing him against the wall, trying not to lose any more momentum. Facing Peter, that needy, wanting look on his face, the dark brown eyes heavy with something Ace hadn’t ever deigned to name before. Facing Peter was really facing himself, his body, everything. Whether he stayed like this or not. Whether Paul did. 

Peter urged one of Ace’s legs up, hoisting it around his waist. Ace had seen it before, out of Peter and Paul both, but he knew he was always too drunk to ever fuck a woman like this, holding her there while they were both standing up. But balanced on one leg himself, even with his other heel firmly against the shower wall– he was buckling already, and Peter hadn’t even entered him again yet. All his previous confidence about himself, about Peter, was starting to dissolve as he tried to reach for that bar again, eyes wide. 

“Jesus, I’m gonna fucking fall–”

“You’re not. Hold onto me. I’ve got you.”

“Thought I was Baby Elvis.”

“Dammit, Ace, would you stop that shit? I love you.”

Ace’s eyes went huge. His whole body froze, leg suddenly stiff and straight, the only sound the spray of the shower.

“Peter?”

“You heard me. Now hold on.”

“No, no, wait–” Ace’s wobbling started back in earnest, as bad as when he was in the heels onstage, the floor too slippery, his heart beating an off cadence. He was wet all over, juices dripping between his legs, twinges of soreness already making themselves known; he was far too aware of every unfamiliar inch of his own skin. All that was really familiar was Peter.

Peter. Gray-haired, explosive Peter. Peter who’d put him up. Peter who’d gotten high with him, slept with him, done orgies with him, supported him. Peter who he’d come to when he needed someone.

The band don’t matter like you do.

Peter was still looking him right in the eye, forthright as ever. Only the tightness of his lips betraying him now. Ace lunged forward, grasping Peter’s shoulders, tight, secure.

“Peter, listen, you…”

“You don’t have to say it back.”

“I do if I mean it.”

Even with Peter steadying him, he was already about to lose his balance again. Leaning against him this heavily, heights the same, it was easy enough to kiss him, easier than it had ever been before.

“I love you, Peter.”

Make me feel good. 

Make me feel like you always did.

Maybe like you always will.

Peter kissed him back. Over and over, a hot furor of lips crushing against lips crushing against skin. Ace felt himself get lost in it, melded there with him, before Peter began to thrust. It didn’t take long. The first thrust and Ace knew he was nearly gone, and apt to fall; with a shaky breath, he let Peter lift up his other leg, wrapping it around him. Pinned there just by Peter alone. Another thrust– Peter was cursing, crying out– Ace thought he felt something– then, as his vision blurred with his own orgasm, all he could feel, all he could touch, was that sensation, better than coke, better than alcohol, overwhelming his body with oneness, wholeness, secure and free.

– 

Ace barely remembered anything after that. Peter helping him out of the shower. Falling over, as he’d predicted, but at the sink instead of inside the shower. Then, then, he must’ve passed out from the heat of the shower and their fooling– 

No. Not fooling around at all. 

The room before him wasn’t Peter and Lydia’s bedroom, anyway. It was his parents’ old apartment. He was sitting in front of their piano, on the piano bench, next to a man that wasn’t quite a man. Someone with a lion’s head and a man’s body. Marbas. 

“You’re rather quick. You’ve completed the ritual, and yet, you didn’t know what it entailed.” Marbas smiled, exposing rows of long ivory teeth. “I had expected no less, given your occupation.”

(so we did it?)

His voice was coming out strangely, hazily. Like a fade out at the end of a song. It took real effort to speak at first.

(all i had to do was sleep with a guy, right?) 

“You had to give yourself up. Offer all you possessed.” Marbas reached over, touching Ace’s ear– Ace tried not to flinch. “Your body, of course, but a virgin sacrifice is only a portion of the requirement. You had to give him your heart as well. Willingly. To be trampled or treasured.”

(i had to love him. that’s what you mean, isn’t it?) 

“In a fashion. You’ll return to yourself in time.” 

Ace didn’t have to glance down to know he wasn’t back to normal yet. His wedding ring was still slightly loose on his thumb. But he nodded anyway.

(paul, is he gonna get back, too? if he does the same thing?)

“If that’s his desire.”

(you mean it’s not?)

“Stan has a poor grasp on the things he wants. He’d rather yearn for them from a distance than have them.” Marbas shrugged broad shoulders. “But you don’t fear your desires.”

(no)

“Even as they destroy you.”

Ace swallowed. It was suddenly hard to meet Marbas’ golden gaze.

(i do okay.)

“You’ll lose everything you have. All your comforts, all your pleasures, traded in for a bottle and some powder. You’ll crawl on your knees for a measure of recognition that’s already passed you by.”

(why are you telling me this?)

“Because it doesn’t matter. You’ve made your decision already.” Marbas grasped his left hand– Ace started to jerk it away, but the demon was too quick, tugging the thick silver wedding ring off his thumb, placing it back on his forefinger. It hung there loose for several seconds, and then the ring began to get hot, that heat spreading from the metal through his finger through his hand through the rest of his body, as painful as that electric shock, as his body shifted, warped, changed– 

He woke up hours later on Peter and Lydia’s bed, face soaked with sweat, body restored. Peter was there, already awake, and sitting up. Still naked, Ace noticed wryly. Just like him.

“You did it.”

Ace sat up. The ring on his finger glinted just slightly in the light. Jeanette. Marbas. Paul. He’d got it all back. He’d have to tell Paul how to end it. But for now, just for now, he took Peter’s face in his hands, pressed a kiss to his lips.

“We did it, Petey. Me and you.”

[lyranova]

Hiii , I've been enjoying your works for a very long while , and it's my first time getting courage to request smth :D Generally my idea is from your drabble collection on ao3 , that time you wrote about Yami and Charlotte putting Hikari to sleep , Yami said that he should ask William about some " Parenting advise" . So I would actually like to see that , our three respectful captains being desperate new parents that struggle to care after some babies lmao. Thanks in advance !

Hiya anon! Aw thank you so much I’m so glad you’ve enjoyed my stories and that you finally got the courage to request something 🥰! Ah yeah I remember which one you’re talking about, it’s the one with Hikari and they were trying to get her to sleep 😁! Of course, I admit this…kind of took a turn from William giving advice to YamiChar helping William out because they’re all in this together 😆. But I still hope you enjoy~!

Word Count: 1,310

Warnings: None

———

Yami walked silently through the Golden Dawn base. He had gotten little to no sleep thanks to his daughter Hikari. She couldn’t be entirely blamed though since she was still a newborn and didn’t understand that she was keeping her parents up.

So after talking with Charlotte Yami decided to go and see how William was fairing and if he maybe had some tips and tricks on how to get a newborn to sleep.

Yami knocked on William’s bedroom door and waited, and waited, and waited. The man frowned before he knocked on it again and eventually he heard some shuffling inside before the door opened to reveal a very disheveled William.

The Golden Dawn Captain was usually very calm and clean cut. But the man standing in front of Yami was the complete opposite! His clothes and hair were messy and he looked like he hadn’t slept or shaved in a couple of days. His eyes lit up in mild surprise at Yami and a forced smile appeared on his face.

“ Yami, what a surprise, what brings you here?” William asked softly, pulling Yami out of his thoughts. Yami shrugged a bit.

“ Well I was hoping to ask for some advice but with how you look right now, I see that you’re in the same predicament as Charlotte and I.” Yami told him as he rubbed the back of his head, William frowned before stepping aside to allow Yami to walk inside the room.

As he did Yami’s eyes widened and his jaw nearly dropped.

The room was a complete disaster! Baby clothes were everywhere, as were toys and blankets, even baby bottles were strewn all over the place! At least William wasn’t so tired and stressed out that he forgot to throw out the dirty diapers and other trash, otherwise that would be really bad.

“ Sorry for the mess, I just got Alistar to sleep so I haven’t had the chance to clean up.” William said as he walked over and began picking things up. Yami nodded, his house wasn’t much better if he were being honest.

“ Alistar’s having trouble sleeping too huh?” Yami asked as he crossed his arms, William nodded before he sat down in a chair.

“ He is. I’ve tried all the different techniques that Zera had written down in her journal but nothing’s helped.” William said softly as he mind began to wander for a moment.

“ I wish she were here, she’d know exactly what to do to get him to sleep.” He mused quietly as he leaned back to stare at the ceiling, Yami shook his head before he sat down in a chair opposite William’s.

William’s wife, Zera Cassia, had passed away the night their son Alistar was born. So William was raising his son all by himself. Everyone had offered to help him but he refused, citing that they were all busy with their own families or upcoming families and he didn’t want to add more stress onto them. So for the past few months he had been doing this all on his own.

Yami watched as his eyes began to droop closed slightly. The Black Bulls Captain sighed. If he had to guess William was probably getting as much, or even less, sleep then he and Charlotte were. He watched the man jerk awake as his son began to cry loudly.

“ I’m coming Alistar, hang on!” William shouted before he jumped up. Yami jumped up quickly and held out his hand towards William to stop him.

“ I’ll take care of Alistar, you just tell me what to do and then take a nap. You look like hell.” Yami said before he walked towards the nursery. He opened the door and walked over to the crib before he bent down and picked up the screaming child.

“ Hang on kid I gotcha, just quiet down.” Yami muttered as he carried him out of the room, he walked back into the living room to see William standing there with a worried expression.

“ Is he alright? Maybe he’s hungry or needs to be changed? Or maybe he hurt himself while he was sleeping?” William began to fret slightly, Yami snorted and shook his head.

“ He’s fine, just calm down Goldie Guts. I think he was just wondering where his old man went and was scared.” Yami explained and William nodded.

“ Now tell me how to take care of the kid,” Yami said and William frowned for a moment.

The younger man began to explain and give the best advice he could to his friend. There were times where he would pause and grab Zera’s journal, read it over, and then explain it to Yami. Eventually the two were able to calm Alistar down and he fell back asleep, and Yami committed all of William’s words of advice to his memory.

As soon as William sat down in his chair he closed his eyes, probably hoping to rest them for a moment. But eventually he smoothly fell asleep, Yami shook his head, he had stretched himself too thin.

Yami balanced Alistar easily in one arm, just as he would Hikari, and pulled out his communication device to call his wife Charlotte.

After a few minutes Yami heard a soft knock on the door and walked over to it. Charlotte held Hikari in her arms and couldn’t help but giggle as she saw Yami holding Alistar in his.

“ We’re quite the pair aren’t we?” She asked curiously as she gestured to the infants and Yami nodded in agreement before moving aside to let her in.

He smirked a bit when she audibly gasped at the horror that was Vangeance’s room.

“ Yeah, that was my exact thought too.”

“ How on earth has been living like this? It’s a wonder he hasn’t tripped over something or has any clean clothes or bottles!” Charlotte exclaimed quietly so as not to wake William or the babies, and Yami shrugged.

“ I dunno either, he’s just survived somehow I guess.” Yami said softly, and Charlotte nodded in understanding. She walked over to her husband, handed him Hikari, before looking around the room.

“ Are you seriously gonna clean this up?” Yami asked in surprise as he held both newborns in each arm. “ I called you over here to watch the kids while I cleaned up this…disaster zone!”

“ Darling, I love you and I’m sure William would appreciate you helping him out. But you’re better at making messes than cleaning messes.” Charlotte said with a small grin before she kissed him on the lips.

Yami chuckled, she wasn’t wrong, if their own home was any proof of her words. He sat down on the couch as he held the babies as Charlotte cleaned the room.

After a few hours William awoke. He looked around and noticed Alistar asleep in a bassinet beside him and his eyes widened as he saw how shiny and clean his room was. He looked down as he found a note stuck to his forehead. He pulled it off and began to read it.

“ Hey Goldie guys! I called in reinforcements to clean up the disaster area, think of it as repayment for the advice you gave. Oh yeah I also took your wife’s journal to read over for more advice since she’s always been better at explaining things than you! Charlotte said she’ll bring it back safe and sound in about a week.

And one last thing Vangeance;

You don’t gotta do all of this all on your own y’know? You’ve got a bunch of people who are ready and willing to help you out, we know you’ve been through a lot lately. You’ve already surpassed your limits multiple times over, so now it’s time to ask for some help, dontcha think?”

William smiled softly as he folded up the piece of paper. He really had some amazing friends.

———

Thank you all so much for reading and I hope you all have a good day~!