#as much as we all love seeing him desperate its fun to see him in charge sometimes

[mythalism]

in my rook hating mindset now after that post this morning and cannot stop thinking about how they are literally the worst protagonist maybe in any story i have ever experienced JRHGKJERHGJERG. and like if you love your rook i am not saying you shouldn't. if you love your rook i am so so happy for you genuinely but you are also probably brilliant and have a huge brain because what the game gives you to build off of is so abysmal.

i literally cannot stop thinking about how insane it is that rook literally causes a double blight and worldwide catastrophe on a scale which thedas has not seen probably since the creation of the veil itself and just. experiences no remorse. and the story tries to tell us thats a good thing and makes them better than the villain/their foil. JHREGJKHERGJKHERG. HELLO?!!??!?!?! literally no one ever goes "hey maybe you shouldnt have done that" except solas and hes framed as the VILLAIN!!! WHAT!!!!!!!!!! hawke blames themselves for not putting the pieces together fast enough when a bouquet of white lilies arrived at their door? the narrative gleefully condemn anders with the immediate opportunity to kill him for his crimes. nearly every single character in origins immediately puts the entirety of the responsibility for the fifth blight on loghain's shoulders, regardless of the CLEAR SUGGESTION that the battle at ostagar could never have been won. and all of these makes sense for the world and characters!!!!! of course hawke would blame themselves for their families deaths when they were given the role of protector by leandra after malcom dies. of course the city of kirkwall is going to want anders dead for his extreme act of violence rather than start the uncomfortable process of acknowledging the beloved chantry's complicity in large scale abuse happening in the mage circles!!!! of course alistair and the warden are going to blame loghain for the blight and cailan's death!!!! it doesnt matter if they are right or wrong, it makes sense for their perspective and worldview to feel this way!!!!

have yall gotten the low approval conversations in inquisition????? solas's "Inquisitor. Tell me. How does it feel? Being you. Are you blissfully unaware or, deep inside, is some part of you banging on the walls, screaming?" cassandra getting drunk and practically spitting in your face how she regrets raising you up to such power? blackwalls' "Are you proud of yourself, of what you’ve built here? How about the lives you’ve destroyed along the way? Given much thought to those lately? Is this Inquisition all you wanted it to be? Because I’m disappointed. All I see is a gang of thugs led by a self-serving tyrant." and these SCATHING comments from those who once believed in the inquisitor enough to join their cause come from decisions that affect a fraction of the population that dies under the southern double blight. people will rip the inquisitior to fucking shreds when they fuck up. THATS THE ENTIRE POINT OF THE TRESPASSER DLC EHRGKJHERGKJHERG. like holy shit every decision carries the weight of "oh my god whos gonna hate me. who is going to die because of my choice. how is this going to come back to bite me." have we forgotten what its like to return to varric after leaving hawke in the fade and confess what we did? the call we just made? to look him in the eye and tell him that we sacrificed his best friend? WHY IS ROOK NEVER ASKED TO PARTICIPATE IN ANY OF THIS INTROSPECTION?????????? TO EVALUATE HOW THEIR DECISIONS AFFECT THOSE AROUND THEM BOTH PERSONALLY AND SOCIETY AS A WHOLE????? OH MY GODDDDD

the regret prison scene is so insane. first its insane because its solas at his best and most cunty. but secondly it makes no fucking sense even if im largely distracted by pookie being fun and villainous. solas tries desperately to play up rook's regrets during their conversations and we are supposed to believe that it was that manipulation that allowed him to swap with them in the prison. how does this actually work? blood magic? dont worry about it, kitten. but then when we get into the prison.... the only two regrets that manifest are things that just happened within the last 3 hours - your two party sacrifices. lets be clear that these are not even real sacrifices because literally all of these people volunteer to go and then argue about why they should go. this is so fucking stupid. then rook looks at the statues and says "i dont regret this because this was your choice". YEAH????? OF COURSE YOU DONT FUCKING REGRET IT WHY WOULD YOU. HELLO???? THIS WAS NOT ROOKS CHOICE THIS WAS ROOK JUST SAYING "SURE I GUESS". AND THEN THATS ENOUGH! THEY JUST LEAVE BC THEY CONQUERED THEIR REGRETS!?!?!?!?!??! WHAT!!!!!! there is no discussion of rook being responsible for the blight in the south that we find out via ooc inquisitior letter has KILLED LITERALLY EVERYONE. no suggestion that their recklessness and willingness to act WITHOUT ALL THE INFORMATION at the ritual is the reason for every single thing the evanuris do following their release.

and let me be very clear bc i know this was causing drama on twitter last week. i am not saying the double blights is rook's fault. i actually dont think it is their fault, although i do think they are stupid and reckless and shouldn't have acted so carelessly. but although rook is responsible for ghilly and edgar breaking free, rook is not responsible for the their actions following that freedom, and rook is not at fault for being put into an impossible situation (the need to stop solas's ritual) without all of the information on what the ritual was and what stopping it might incur. however, the double blight is rook's fault in the same way that the veil, the fall of the elvhen empire, elven mortality, and every demon's existence is solas's fault; which is to say, it is and it is not. solas was backed into a corner, in a desperate situation without knowledge of the potential consequences, and was forced to make a decision for the good of the world when he imprisoned the evanuris and blight with the veil. rook was backed into a corner, in a desperate situation without knowledge of the potential consequences, and was forced to make a decision for what they thought was the good of the world when they interrupted solas's ritual. but while solas feels immense guilt and responsibility for the choice he made, rook feels.... absolutely none. and the game tells us that... they're right? people should just not take accountability for anything? i will give credit where it's due here that varric's contribution to this scene is quite good and his line where rook tries to take responsibility for his death and varric says smth like "no, that was my own choice and you dont get to take that from me" is B A N G E R. WHERE WAS THAT ENERGY IN THE REST OF THIS FUCKING GAME!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!!?

THAT was the lesson solas needed to learn, not that his regret was wrong but that it was MISPLACED!!!!!!!!! and that is why it is mythal acknowledging that their burden is shared and not his alone is the culmination of his entire story and what finally allows him to move on. pride stands alone, wisdom seeks out the input of others to make an informed and wise decision. this is also why he leaves such breadcrumbs for the inquisitor (a high approval one, at least) because he respects their opinion and their input and their existence and the way they treat him turns him back into wisdom from pride. this is why a romanced inquisitor mentions his name being pride and how its possible that hes not even CAPABLE of changing his mind because it would be so against his nature, and he needs someone whose opinion he values to show him the way. his flaw is his SELF INFLICTED LONELINESS!!!!! NOT HIS REGRET. varric even fucking says this in some random banter you get with his ghost in the infirmary but im too lazy to go find it on my desktop. its something about how he sees attachments as a weakness rather than a strength. his pride causes him to take on responsibility that is not his, his wisdom -> pride corruption has led him to believe he is the only one capable of fixing the world's problems and he will destroy both himself and those he loves in the process. he asserts that he is just a man but is unable to stop making decisions for the world like a god.

THIS is the solas/rook foil that should have been: rook relies on their friends and that reliance is ESSENTIAL; after all, the neve/bellara and davrin/harding sacrifice is essential to win. in contrast solas refuses to rely on anyone, and this isolation makes him increasingly cruel. when he has no one to mirror the way a spirit should, he becomes Pride, too proud and too god-like. his attachments make him more human. he is terrified of depending on others and will kill them rather than risk the vulnerability of dependence after what it has done to him (mythal, felassan). he has to unlearn this avoidance and fear, he has to admit that there "could have been a better way" that someone else saw and he did not. he must learn that he does not have all the answers. he is not Pride. its NOT that rook doesnt experience regret and doesn't take accountability for mistakes while solas is trapped by his own regrets. the message we got instead is so incoherent. but it was SO CLOSE TO BEING GOOD. the bones of this are littered everywhere in both the game and in the datamined content and for some reason it just could not be brought together in a way that makes sense.

the message that rook is "right" and better for not having regrets is genuinely insane, especially when the "regrets" they have to conquer are literally just. other peoples decisions. the fact that rook has the audacity to say to solas that he could never escape the prison while they could so easily because he is trapped by his own regret as if rook is better than him is genuinely so fucking dumb it makes me want to claw my eyes out for having been forced to read it. rook sacrifices nothing and learns nothing. the sacrifices within the game belong to the characters that make them, rook does not order people to their deaths in the same way that solas or even THE INQUISITOR do. rook never is asked to grapple with the fact that they ACCIDENTALLY unleashed a double blight, no matter how good their intentions. WHY DOES NO ONE BLAME THEM FOR THIS???? regardless of if it is their fault or not, the objective truth of fault does not matter, what matters is that you make decisions and PEOPLE JUDGE YOU FOR THEM!!!!!!!!! THIS IS LIKE FOUNDATIONAL TO THESE GAMES JEHRGJKREHGJKRHG. this is what the entire game is about doing to solas. judging him. based on his choices. and the game clearly wants you to have empathy for him in the end. but its so OBVIOUS that the vessel for building up that empathy should have been ROOK EXPERIENCING THE SAME THING!!! THE SAME JUDGEMENT!!! THE SAME GROWTH!!!!! FEELING THE BURDEN OF THE WORLD ON THEIR SHOULDERS. FEELING THE DREAD OF GUILT AND SHAME AND REGRET. TRYING TO DEFEND THEIR INTENTIONS!!! I DIDNT MEAN TO I DIDNT MEAN TO IT WAS A MISTAKE!!!! LEARNING THAT THEY HAVE TO OWN UP TO IT BUT THEY ALSO HAVE NO CHOICE BUT TO MOVE FORWARD!!!!!! HELLO!??!?!?!?! they BARELY even express remorse for the treviso/minrathous sacrifice, even when faced with neve/lucanis's anger they just go "a decision had to be made and i made it". well. YEAH? LIKE YEAH THATS RIGHT BUT HUMANS HAVE FEELINGS??? YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO BE A PERSON, NOT A BLANK SLATE VIDEO GAME PROTAGONIST!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ITS OKAY TO FEEL BAD!!!! YOU MADE A DECISION THAT RESULTED IN PEOPLE DYING. ANY HUMAN BEING WOULD FEEL BAD ABOUT THIS. ITS KIND OF FUCKING WEIRD THAT YOU DO NOT. HOW IS ROOK JUST BORN BEING OK WITH THIS. ITS SO ROBOTIC AND ARTIFICIAL LOL

rooks actions are such a clear, perfect parallel to solas putting up the veil and the guilt that haunts him afterwards that i KNOW it was intended that way and somehow it just got completely shafted. it literally feels like they did have a coherent parallel going and for some reason were forced to change directions last minute and thus we got some mish mashed barely cobbled together incoherent nonsense with clear echoes of its former self. instead rook has no flaws, makes perfect judgements at all time, has unconditional support from all of their friends who also make perfect judgements, are immune to making mistakes, and the message is its actually just really easy to not have regrets if you just choose right every time and refuse to take responsibility for anything as long as you had good intentions :D

[playing-with-dax]

I just discovered this blog and I'm so hooked! I absolutely love these character designs. I don't typically like to imagine myself being the dominant partner but goddamn if I don't want to play with Dax's horns until he cries and then lick his tears away.

I also think he could fuck me with that tail if he wanted to 😏

Thank you so much for being here and for the compliment 🥺💚

I hope you enjoy your stay and get to imagine yourself in lots of fun scenarios!

As for Dax:

He would have a wonderful time using his tail however you would like. He would love being able to watch your expressions as those ridges slide in and out.

Keep in mind that tail is sensitive though~ The feeling of his tail inside you while also being able to watch you get pleasure from it? He would barely be able to contain himself

[creamflix]

gojo satoru x female reader: 18+ content (MINORS/AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS dni, you'll be blocked), sub!satoru & dom!reader, established relationship, pegging !!, prostate stimulation, ball massaging, whimpery & whiney gojo (yippee!!) – masterlist here ☆～（ゝ。∂）

"you want to what?" 

satoru’s voice cuts through the quiet of the evening, his brows shooting up in utter disbelief. the two of you were having a laid-back friday night, scrolling through tiktok on the couch when you came across a certain ad — one for a strap-on in all its silicone glory. you thought it’d be fun, maybe even adventurous, but satoru? he wasn’t so convinced.

“no way,” he scoffs, shaking his head, his snowy white hair bouncing with the movement. “i love you, but not enough to take a dick up my ass.”

you pout, giving him those pleading eyes that you know he’s weak to. “come on, ‘toru. just once? if you don’t like it, we can get rid of it and never talk about it again,” you suggest, all sweetness and promises. you know how to get under his skin, in the best way possible.

he huffs, crossing his arms, but there’s a tiny crack in his resolve. “fine,” he relents after what feels like forever, rolling his eyes, “but don’t expect me to like it.”

you order it immediately — express shipping, courtesy of your begrudging boyfriend — and when it arrives a couple of days later, it's perfect. the prettiest shade of blue, one that matches his damn eyes. it’s almost like fate.

satoru’s still jittery, you can tell by the way his fingers twitch and the light flush on his cheeks, but you assure him, pressing soft kisses to his jaw, that it’ll be the best time of his life. and honestly? he doesn’t believe you. not until the moment when you’re finally positioning yourself, the cool silicone pressing against him.

"relax, babe," you murmur, hands smoothing over his hips, taking in how tense he is.

“easy for you to say,” he grumbles, his face turned into the pillows, a flush creeping up his neck. “you’re not the one getting —” he cuts himself off with a sharp inhale as you start pushing in.

god, he’s already so fucking sensitive.

not even an inch in, and he’s already gasping, his fingers gripping the sheets like his life depends on it. “fuck,” he whimpers, voice shaking as his whole body tenses under you. the sight of gojo satoru — usually so cocky and unbothered — reduced to breathless gasps and soft whines has your heart racing. it’s kind of cute, honestly.

“see?” you giggle softly, watching his reactions, moving agonizingly slow, “told ya it’d feel good.” you’re barely even halfway in, but the way his back arches, the way he moans? it's like he's about to fall apart already.

"sh-shut up," he manages between gasps, but his voice is shaky, and there’s no real bite to it.

you sheath yourself inside him fully, watching his thighs tremble, and his mouth drops open in a silent gasp. he’s so fucking tight around the silicone, and you can feel him clench down involuntarily. satoru whimpers, a broken sound escaping his lips as you give him a second to adjust before slowly pulling back and thrusting in again.

“oh, f-fuck,” he moans, voice muffled as his face buries itself in the pillow. “fuck — i — oh god.”

you build up a slow pace, each movement measured, careful, but his body is reacting so intensely, you wonder how much more he can take. “you okay, ‘toru?” you ask, voice teasing as you watch him unravel.

he doesn't answer at first, just whimpers, his body trembling beneath you. his hips are moving now, meeting your thrusts in a desperate attempt for more friction, more pressure. “m-more,” he finally moans, his voice high and needy, “more, please, please…”

you bite your lip, trying to keep your pace steady despite how delirious he’s getting beneath you. “god, you’re gonna break, aren’t you?” you tease, but satoru barely registers it, too lost in the overwhelming sensations flooding his body.

“i c-can take it,” he gasps, his fists clenching the sheets, his whole body trembling as you thrust harder, faster. “don’t stop, please, more — fucking more!” he’s moaning so loud now, his voice cracking, his usual composed demeanor completely shattered.

you can’t help but grin. gojo satoru, the strongest, the cockiest man you know, completely undone by your strap-on, begging for more, like he’s lost all sense of control.

as you're thrusting into him, you notice the way his body shakes, his hips bucking up in desperate, needy attempts to chase more. it's like he can't control himself, and the sight of him coming undone like this makes you want to push him even further.

your hand slides down his toned thighs, trailing downwards until your fingers brush against his balls. he's so sensitive — so ridiculously sensitive — and the second you cup them, his entire body jerks like he's been electrocuted.

"f-fuck! —" he chokes out, his voice wrecked, and his hips buck upward sharply, nearly knocking you off balance. his balls are tight, drawn up against him, and you start to massage them gently, rolling them between your fingers as you continue fucking into him. his moans become downright filthy, high-pitched and broken, and his hands clutch at the sheets as if he's trying to ground himself.

"you like that, 'toru?" you purr, a grin tugging at your lips as you feel him tremble beneath you. "god, you're so sensitive, baby." your voice drips with teasing affection, but there's a dark undertone to it — because seeing him like this? falling apart so completely? you love it.

his answer is nothing more than a breathless whimper, and when you squeeze his balls just a little harder, he bucks his hips up so hard it almost knocks you out of rhythm. you gasp, caught off guard for a moment, your balance momentarily thrown off. but you're not about to let him get away with it. oh no.

you steady yourself and slam back into him — hard. the force of it has him gasping, eyes rolling back as his whole body arches off the bed. his hands fly up to grab the sheets, knuckles white as he cries out.

"shit — !" he yelps, his voice cracking as you pound into him, your grip tightening around his balls, the dual sensation making him completely lose it. you feel his legs trembling, see the way his back bows beneath you, and all he can do is moan for more.

"oh my god, oh my god," he pants, face pressed into the pillow, practically drooling now as he pushes back into each of your thrusts. he's shaking so badly you almost feel like you might actually break him this time, but it only spurs you on.

you keep playing with his balls, rolling and massaging them as you pound into him relentlessly, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room along with his gasping moans. you slam your hips into his ass over and over, and he's so far gone he can barely form words anymore.

"f-fuck, fuck, baby please —" he babbles, his voice completely wrecked, his entire body trembling violently under you. he’s delirious now, unable to think of anything but the overwhelming pleasure you're giving him.

you watch as he writhes beneath you, completely at your mercy, and you realize just how badly he’s falling apart. his breath is shallow, his body quivering with every thrust, and that cocky, arrogant attitude is nowhere to be found. the only thing left is a mess of moans, whimpers, and a desperate need for you to keep going.

"more," he gasps out, "p-please, don't stop. more, i — fuck — "

he's completely gone.

you can feel him getting close, his body tensing and trembling with each thrust, his balls tight in your hand. his cock is leaking against his stomach, smearing precum everywhere as he grinds desperately into the sheets. he’s so far gone, babbling nonsense, completely overwhelmed by the dual sensations of you fucking his ass and playing with his balls.

“oh my god, i — i can’t,” he gasps, his voice a broken, high-pitched whine. you can hear how close he is, see the way his muscles tighten with every thrust, but you're not letting up. not when he's this close to falling apart.

“yes, you can,” you purr, giving his balls a little squeeze, watching as his body jolts violently. “c'mon, 'toru, be a good boy and cum for me.”

that’s all it takes — one more deep, brutal thrust, and his entire body seizes up. he lets out the most guttural moan, his head snapping back as he cums hard. thick, hot ropes of cum shoot out, splattering across his abs and the sheets as he shakes uncontrollably. he’s trembling, completely wrecked, moaning your name over and over between gasps of breath.

his face is buried in the pillow again, but when he turns his head toward you, there’s a fire in his eyes — a glare, sharp and fierce, but the flush on his cheeks and the way his lips tremble betray how much he enjoyed it. his chest is heaving, sweat dripping down his temples, but he still tries to act like he’s pissed.

“y-you... fuck...” he pants, eyes half-lidded, voice raw from moaning. he tries to glare at you, but it’s completely undercut by how utterly fucked out he looks. his entire body is still trembling, his legs twitching, but even now, he tries to hold onto that last scrap of his ego.

but you know better. you know by the way his body responded, by the look in his eyes, that he loved every second of it. his glare melts into something softer, more vulnerable, and he finally lets out a breathless chuckle.

“don’t... don’t say a word,” he grumbles weakly, trying to pull himself together, but the little grin tugging at his lips tells you everything. #pengmengettingpegged

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[woolysium]

Anatomy Lesson

﹒♡﹒Pairing: Yunho + Mingi (college AU) x reader

﹒♡﹒Summary: As med students, you, Yunho, and Mingi have spent countless hours studying anatomy together—but in this study session, anatomical diagrams turn into hands-on lessons.

﹒♡﹒Word count: 4k

﹒♡﹒Genre: smut (MDNI)

﹒♡﹒Warning: pure filth, very nsfw, threesome, restraint, hand kink, choking, unprotected sex (a no no irl), double penetration, rough sex, very dom!Yunho, whiny mess!Mingi, Mingi is very desperate, teasing, overstimulation (let me know if i miss anything ig its too long)

﹒♡﹒Request: @mingi-s-dimples "Hey pooks 🙂‍↕️💖 it's me, Bia! I'd love to read something written by your for me sooo here is my request 😋😋 Yungi x reader, college au studying anatomy (I have the biggest yungi brainrot rn I'm so sorry + I'm studying anatomy as we speak). They've been study buddies since they started uni 2 yrs ago and they always met to study tgt. SO I'd love to read how reader is like into them but is too shy to tell them and the boys are like.. also kinda into her but they thought it's be weird to like.. tell her cause it'd be a 3some. NOT ANYMORE !! They study anatomy and reader starts touching them intimately explaining some of the structures (for ex thigh/abs and so on) and Mingi for ex gets turned on from it and gets a boner duh. They have some small talk and then they yk.. have a 3some 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ sigh. Anyways, I'd love to see: restraining with their bodies/hand kink/slight choking/double penetration (is not a kink ik), praise, teasing 😌 Gave you all the details I'd love to see and THANK YOU SO MUCHHHH LOVE YOUU 😋💖💖💖"

﹒♡﹒Author's note: This took longer than I expected, and filthier.... I never knew i could do this good until now lmao. Anyways this is a long ass fic, and cheers to my babe Bia for requesting it, even though i kinda died at the end so it looks rushed but, hope you like it, I love your idea so so much. It was a ride writing this, I had to research a shit ton on anatomy, but it was fun tho. This is not proofread thoroughly since it's too long and i was getting sleepy, so please ignore any errors. Enjoy the meal. I love you Bia 💜

You’ve known Yunho and Mingi since the first day of med school. Being more of an introvert, you usually keep to yourself, avoiding any unnecessary attention. But that day, the only open seat was right in the middle of the lecture hall. Yunho and Mingi showed up late, looking a bit lost, and ended up grabbing the two seats on either side of you.

At first, you figured they were just two extroverted guys who’d probably drift off to make other friends once they settled in—exactly the type you usually avoid. But as the lecture went on, they kept leaning over to ask for help, clearly struggling with the material. Yunho, with his easy smile and laid-back vibe, nudged you and whispered, “Think you could explain this? We’re kinda lost.” Mingi, with a shy grin that made him seem more approachable than his confident appearance suggested, nodded along.

You explained the basics, and they were grateful enough to ask if you’d study together outside of class. Despite your initial hesitation, you said yes, you couldn’t even believe yourself. From there, study sessions became a regular thing—quiet corners of the library or your living room, where you’d help them with the tough stuff, and they’d bring snacks and keep the mood light. They made everything feel a bit more bearable at least, even the late-night cram sessions.

Two years later, the three of you are still a team, but things have changed. Somewhere along the way, simple glances and casual touches started to linger. And there were moments—small, fleeting ones—where you could swear they were feeling it too. Like when Yunho would shift closer to you on the couch, his arm draped casually behind your shoulders, his fingers brushing the back of your neck just enough to make your skin tingle. Or when Mingi’s hand would find your lower back during those late-night coffee runs, the touch lingering a little too long to be just friendly. But no one ever said anything about it, all of you dancing around the unspoken tension that had begun to define your time together.

Tonight is just another study session at your place, and you don’t really think much about anything else other than the lessons. You're all spread out across your bed—Yunho sitting up against the headboard, his long legs stretched out, Mingi lying on his side next to him, propped up on one elbow. You sit cross-legged facing them, surrounded by notes and anatomy diagrams.

You're pointing out different muscle groups and explaining their connections, but you notice the looks of confusion on their faces. With a little laugh, you suggest, “Guys, I think it would be better to show you directly. How about I demonstrate them on your body?” Totally innocent request, or so you thought.

Yunho glances at Mingi, who shrugs with a faint smirk. “Yeah sure. Might be easier to understand that way,” Yunho says, scooching to the side a bit to make space for you. Mingi stretches out beside him, nodding along.

You start with Yunho, tracing the lines of his arm, outlining the biceps and triceps as you explain each muscle group. “So, here’s the biceps brachii,” you murmur, fingers gently pressing along the length of his upper arm, feeling the firmness beneath. Yunho listens intently, his usual playful smile tempered by a newfound focus as he watches your hand. “And just behind here, the triceps—helps with arm extension,” you continue, trailing your hand down the back of his arm. His body is relaxed under your touch, but there’s a slight shift in his breathing when your fingers glide over his chest and down to his abs, the smooth firmness beneath your fingertips making you a little more aware of the warmth radiating between you.

When you move over to Mingi, the atmosphere tenses up even more, you are oblivious, somehow. You run your fingers along his chest, explaining the pectorals. “This is the pectoralis major—it’s responsible for moving the arm across the body,” you say softly, your hand tracing the broad curve of his chest. He listens closely, his breathing grows a bit deeper as you outline each muscle. You continue downward, fingertips gliding over his defined abs. “And here’s the rectus abdominis… your core muscles.” Mingi’s body tenses beneath your touch, brows furrowing as he bites his lips, trying to control his reaction.

“This part—your obliques, they help with twisting movements,” you add, tracing the defined muscles, feeling the warmth of his skin through the thin fabric of his shirt. Your touch follows the natural curve of his hip, then skims lower. It’s meant to be purely academic, but then your fingers slide over the curve of his hip and graze against the waistband of his jeans.

You’re about to pull away when your hand slips, just slightly, brushing over his crotch. You freeze, the realization hitting you like a jolt, the feeling of Mingi’s arousal under your fingertips sending a rush of warmth to your own cheeks. Mingi’s breath catches audibly, his body tensing beneath your touch. You glance up at him, heart racing, but his expression is caught somewhere between surprise and something more intense, his face flushed.

Before you can say anything, you catch the way Yunho's expression has changed too. There’s a heat in his eyes as he looks between you and Mingi, cheeks a little flushed and his breath coming out uneven, though he’s still trying to keep up his usual playful front. "You know, you might be a little too good at this," he says, his voice dropping, teasing but rougher than usual.

The air in the room feels thicker, making your heart beat faster. Yunho moves in closer, his gaze darker, watching you in a way that makes you swallow hard. There’s this electric charge between the three of you now, impossible to ignore. For a second, it’s like time stops—none of you quite sure how to navigate this shift, but aware that something's definitely changed.

Yunho’s usual teasing grin fades when he catches your gaze, something more serious in his eyes. His breath hitches, and you notice how he glances from your eyes to your lips, then back again, like he’s debating what to do. The room goes quiet, and the tension is thick enough to make you feel like you’re holding your breath.

You swallow hard, nerves making your voice waver as you finally break the silence. “I... I’ve liked both of you for a while now,” you admit, your cheeks heating with embarrassment. “But I was too scared to say anything. I thought... I thought you’d find it weird, or that it would ruin everything.”

Mingi lets out a breath he’s been holding, his expression softening even as his lips curl into a smirk, a mixture of relief and disbelief paints his face. “You serious?” He glances over at Yunho, who gives a slow, almost doubtful nod, as if he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing either. Mingi’s hand moves to rest on your thigh, his grip firm, sending a jolt through you. “Look, Y/N. We’ve been into you for so long, but we thought you’d be freaked out by the idea... of being with both of us like this, you know.”

Yunho’s hand tilts your chin so you’re looking right at him. His thumb brushes over your bottom lip, and his voice drops lower. “Yeah, we didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. But if you’re saying you’re into this too...” His other hand slides to your waist, tugging you a bit closer. “Maybe we’ve been holding back for no reason.”

You shiver under their touch, heat pooling low in your stomach as the reality of the situation sinks in. Mingi’s thumb strokes slow circles on your thigh, his other hand trailing up your back. Yunho leans in closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he murmurs, “So... what do you want, really?” 

You catch your breath, feeling their warmth pressed against you from both sides. You look at them, and it’s like all the unspoken feelings are right there on their faces. A nervous smile tugs at your lips as you admit, “I want... both of you.”

Mingi’s grip tightens, and Yunho’s breath comes out in a low, almost relieved sigh, his fingers slipping beneath the hem of your shirt. It’s like a dam breaking—no more restraint, just the three of you finally letting go of the tension that’s been building for so long.

The bed dips under their weight as Yunho settles behind you, Mingi in front. The heat radiating from their bodies is intoxicating, and you shiver as Yunho’s rough hand grips your jaw, tilting your head back. “Look at you. Already so needy,” he growls, the pad of his thumb grazing your lower lip, sending a thrill straight to your core.

His lips crash into yours, rough and eager, as if he can’t hold back a second longer. His hands are everywhere—one cupping your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek, the other slipping beneath your shirt, his touch leaving a trail of heat in its wake. His grip is firm, possessive, his fingers digging into your skin as he pulls you closer.

Mingi’s hands tug at the hem of your shirt, impatience lacing his movements. He pulls the fabric up and over your head, his fingers fumbling slightly as he tosses it aside. “He’s always in such a hurry,” Yunho teases, his voice a low rumble against your lips, but there’s a smirk in his tone that says he’s just as eager.

Your bra is the next to go, Mingi’s hands quickly unhook it and slide it down your arms. His eyes darken as he takes in the sight of you, his tongue wetting his lips. “You look so good like this,” he murmurs, his breath coming in shallow pants. He palms your chest, thumbs brushing over your nipples, drawing a gasp from you as he rolls them between his fingers, his touch alternating between gentle and rough.

Yunho’s hand trails down your side, fingers hooking into the waistband of your pants. He yanks them down in one swift motion, along with your panties, leaving you completely bare between them. He pulls back just enough to admire the sight, his lips curving into a satisfied smirk. “You’re beautiful, I’ve dreamed of this for so long,” he says, but there’s a rough edge to his voice that sends a shiver through you.

His breath is warm against your ear, his hands trailing down your sides, tracing the curves of your body with a possessive touch. He pulls you closer against him, his large hands sliding over your thighs before gently urging them apart. He holds you open, one arm wrapped around your waist to keep you steady while the other spreads you wider, his fingers brushing against your slickness as he exposes you to Mingi.

Meanwhile, Mingi’s hands roam over your thighs, pushing them apart as he leans in, his breath hot against your skin. His fingers tease along the edge of your crotch, just barely brushing over your wetness.

“Already soaked, huh?” Mingi’s voice is husky, tinged with a whine as his fingers press harder, rubbing slow circles over the soaked heat. He’s watching you, eyes blown wide with lust, lips parted as he takes in every little reaction. He lets out a shaky breath, his impatience bleeding through. “You’re so fucking desperate for it, aren’t you?”

Yunho’s hand wraps around your throat, fingers tighten slightly, cutting off your reply. “Mingi, quit messing around,” he commands, his tone leaving no room for argument. His fingers slowly twisting your nipples, hard enough to make you gasp. “She wants it rough, so let’s not make her wait.”

Mingi, positioned between your legs, drinks in the sight of you with darkened eyes, a low groan escaping him. “Yunho, she’s so wet for us,” he mutters, his voice husky with desire. He presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh, his lips trailing a path closer to where you need him most, his breath teasing your skin and making you squirm in Yunho’s hold.

Yunho tightens his grip, keeping you steady, a smirk playing on his lips as he feels you try to press closer to Mingi. “Easy, baby. Let him take his time with you,” Yunho murmurs, his tone low and commanding, his fingers brushing along your inner thigh as he keeps you spread wide for Mingi.

Mingi glances up at you through half-lidded eyes, his mouth hovering just inches away from your core, and you can feel the heat of his breath ghosting over your most sensitive spot. “You ready for this?” he asks, his usual confidence cracking just enough to reveal the desperation underneath. He doesn’t wait for your answer before leaning in, his tongue dragging slowly over your folds, tasting you with a groan that vibrates against your skin.

You gasp, your head falling back against Yunho’s shoulder as the sensation crashes through you. Mingi’s mouth is relentless, his tongue working you over with a rhythm that has your thighs shaking, but Yunho’s grip keeps you from closing your legs, keeps you open and exposed to every lick, every gentle suck. He spreads you wider with his fingers, giving Mingi the perfect angle, and Mingi takes full advantage, his tongue dipping inside you before dragging back up to circle your clit, teasing you mercilessly.

Yunho’s lips find your neck again, pressing rough kisses along your skin, his teeth grazing over your pulse point. “Look at you, falling apart already,” he whispers, his voice filled with amusement as he watches the way your chest heaves with every breath. “Mingi, I think she likes that,” he teases, his hand sliding down to cup your breast, his thumb brushing over your nipple in slow, deliberate circles.

Mingi pulls back just enough to speak, his voice low and rough. “She tastes so good, Yunho... I don’t think I can stop,” he admits, his usual confidence slipping into a more desperate edge. He dives back in with a hunger, his tongue working faster now, alternating between soft licks and harsher, more focused attention on your clit, sucking it into his mouth and flicking it with his tongue until you’re crying out, your hands clutching at Yunho’s arm for support.

Yunho groans softly at the sound of your moans, his own arousal pressing hard against your lower back. He lets one hand drift down, his fingers grazing over Mingi’s jaw as he works, a silent encouragement as he keeps you pinned in place, making sure you can’t escape the overwhelming pleasure. “Yeah, that’s it, Mingi... make her fall apart,” Yunho breathes, his own voice thick with desire as he watches the scene unfold.

Mingi’s pace grows more frantic, his lips and tongue driving you to the edge, his hands gripping your thighs to keep you steady as he devours you like he’s starving. The combination of Yunho’s firm, steady grip and Mingi’s relentless mouth leaves you helpless between them, your body arching as the tension builds, heat pooling low in your belly until you can’t hold back anymore.

“Yunho, please... I—” Your words dissolve into a choked moan as Mingi’s tongue circles your clit faster, pushing you right to the brink. Yunho’s hand slides back to your throat, not applying pressure but just resting there, a reminder that he’s the one in control, a reminder of how completely you’re at their mercy.

“That’s it, baby. Come for us,” Yunho whispers against your ear, his thumb stroking over your pulse as if feeling the way it races beneath his touch. His other hand tightens on your thigh, holding you wide open for Mingi’s tongue, making sure you can’t escape the intense sensations that roll through you in waves.

And when your release finally crashes over you, it’s like everything shatters—your body shaking between them as Mingi holds you steady, his tongue slowing but never stopping, drawing out every last aftershock until you’re a trembling mess in their hands. Yunho’s grip softens, turning soothing as he brushes his lips against your temple, “Good girl,” his voice soft in a low register.

Mingi pulls away from you, lips slick and pupils blown wide, catching his breath as he watches the way your body trembles. He flashes you a wild grin, his lips curling into a satisfied smirk as he takes in the sight of you coming undone. “You’ve got no idea how good you look like this,” he murmurs, voice rough and low, sending a shiver down your spine.

Yunho’s large hand cups your jaw, his fingers pressing gently but firmly as he tilts your head back, stealing your breath with a demanding kiss. His tongue slides against yours, leaving you dizzy with the heat of his mouth, while his free hand drifts between your legs. His long fingers find the slickness Mingi left behind, sliding inside you with ease, spreading your pussy open, curling to press against that sensitive spot that makes you gasp into his mouth. He groans at how ready you are, his own control slipping as he pumps his fingers slowly, making you arch against him.

“Think she’s ready for us, Yunho?” Mingi teases, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your thighs, his voice tinged with a playful edge even as his own breath comes out shaky. His hands press your legs open wider, his grip rough and eager, holding you in place beneath him.

Yunho pulls back, letting his lips ghost over the shell of your ear as he speaks. “More than ready,” he murmurs, his tone low and dark. He withdraws his fingers, leaving you clenching around nothing, and Mingi’s lips twitch into a smirk as he watches the way your hips move, seeking more. He pulls his own shirt over his head, revealing the toned muscles beneath, and shoves his jeans down in a hurry, his cock heavy in his hand as he strokes himself, his eyes glued to the way you tremble beneath them.

They both shed the last of their clothes, and the sight of them—Mingi with a desperation in his eyes, his cock hard and leaking, and Yunho’s self-assured composure as he strokes himself slowly—has heat pooling in your belly all over again.

Yunho catches Mingi’s eye, and there’s a shared look between them—a look that you can’t quite make out of. Mingi huffs out a breath, a smirk curling his lips even as his hands tighten on your thighs. “Ready to make her feel good, aren’t we?” Yunho taunts, his tone edged with a dangerous kind of promise.

Mingi’s response is a low hum as he settles between your legs again, his breath ghosting over your sensitive skin. He presses a final kiss to your thigh, his lips soft before he lines himself up with your entrance. “You’re gonna take us both, sweetheart. You up for that?”

Yunho’s grip tightens on your jaw, guiding your head back so you’re looking at him, his expression dark and intense. “She can take it. Can’t you?” he challenges, his thumb brushing over your lips, the pressure making your breath hitch. You nod, can’t even form words, and a satisfied smirk tugs at Yunho’s mouth.

Mingi eases himself inside you, inch by inch, his moan vibrating through you as he stretches you open. The way his big dick fills you is almost overwhelming, his rough grip grounding you as he bottoms out, shuddering against you. “Fuck, she’s so tight... I’m not gonna last if you keep squeezing me like that,” he’s breathless, barely keeping himself together as your body tightens around him.

Yunho smirks, his fingers flexing against your throat. “She likes it, Mingi,” he murmurs, the dominance in his tone sending a thrill through you both. He moves his hand to your clit, his touch unrelenting, and the added sensation sends you spiraling, your body arching back into him as he drives you higher.

Yunho’s smirk widens, his gaze tracking every twitch of your expression as he positions himself behind you, the thick head of his cock pressing against your entrance alongside Mingi’s. He moves slowly, letting the stretch settle in, and you gasp at the sensation, the stretch is intense, burning in the most delicious way as your body struggles to adjust. They both push forward, filling you to the brim, and you can’t hold back the sharp cry that escapes you, the sensation leaving you breathless.

Yunho’s breath ghosts over your skin, his voice a low growl in your ear. “Look at how desperate he is for you,” he taunts, his fingers pressing down on your clit, rubbing rough circles. “But you love it, don’t you? Being filled like this, over and over until you can’t even think straight.”

Mingi’s head snaps up at that, his lips curling into a defiant smirk even as his movements falter, every thrust turning sloppy and wild. “She loves it... I can feel how tight she gets every time you touch her,” he gasps out, his voice cracking into a moan as Yunho’s fingers tighten their grip, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp, and he holds you there, his grip firm as he watches the way your lips part, vision going hazy. Mingi loses himself in the rhythm, his cock twitching inside you as he chases the edge of release, his desperation palpable in every shuddering breath.

You can feel Mingi’s pace falters, his head dropping to your shoulder as his breath stutters against your skin. “Fuck, I can’t hold back... she’s driving me crazy,” he groans, his voice breaking on a whimper as he feels the way you clench around him.

From behind you, Yunho chuckles, his own control slipping as his hips snap forward, burying himself deeper inside you. “Don’t hold back,” he growls. “Make her come again.” The dual sensations of their thrusts, the weight of their bodies, and the intimacy of the moment push you closer to the edge, and you feel the tension building again. “I can’t—oh, God, I’m so close!” you cry, your nails digging into Mingi’s arms as you cling to him.

The room fills with the sounds of your combined breaths, the wet slap of skin against skin, and the low, breathless curses spilling from Mingi’s lips. His hand slips, reaching back to grip Yunho’s wrist, grounding himself as he rocks into you with wild abandon, his moans turning needy and high-pitched as he finally loses himself in the pleasure.

Yunho increases his pace, and Mingi’s fingers dig into your skin as he matches the intensity. “That’s it, just let go,” he encourages, his voice a desperate plea.

The heat spirals through you, the sensation of being double filled amplifying everything. Your body arches back against Yunho, and with a final thrust from both sides—it pushes you over, and you come with a broken cry, clenching down around them.

Mingi loses it then, his hips stuttering as he spills inside you with a choked moan, his whole body shuddering against yours. Yunho isn’t far behind, his grip on you steady as he pushes deep one last time, burying himself as he loses control. He keeps moving through the aftershocks, drawing out every last drop of pleasure until you’re a trembling, spent mess in their arms.

They hold you there, their bodies pressed against yours, the heat of the moment fading into a heavy, sated silence. Mingi’s head rests on your shoulder, his breath ragged against your skin, while Yunho’s hand gently loosens around your throat, his lips pressing a softer kiss to the side of your neck.

You’re all left panting, tangled together in a messy heap, the air thick with the scent of sex and satisfaction. Mingi pulls out first, dropping back onto the bed with a breathless laugh. “Fuck, that was... intense.”

Yunho wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you against him as he presses a kiss to your shoulder. “Yeah, it was an intense anatomy lesson, but she took it like a champ,” he murmurs, voice full of pride. “Didn’t you, babe?”

You nod weakly, a small smile tugging at your lips as you relax into their warmth. “Yeah... I did.”

by @woolysium

[goldfades]

surprise! | JOE BURROW⁹ [002]

free palestine carrd 🇵🇸 decolonize palestine site 🇵🇸 how you can help palestine it's crucial that we stand in solidarity with those who need our support. right now, the people of palestine are facing unimaginable hardship, and it's up to all of us to do what we can to help. whether it's raising awareness, donating to relief organizations, or supporting calls for justice and peace, every action counts. we can amplify their voices, shed light on their struggles, and work towards a future where every individual can live with dignity and freedom. your support can make a difference! FREE PALESTINE!

MASTERLIST

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 3.8k

⟢ ┈ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | you and joe had just come back from your honeymoon in barbados, you may have had a little too much fun. when you see the faint lines in the little white stick, your whole world flipped on its axis.

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | hurt to comfort, maisie being the bff we all want, joe being a little bitch but very much redeeming himself, accidental pregnancy

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐓, a sharp contrast to the warmth lingering from the honeymoon sun still clinging to your skin. The little white stick in your hand shakes as you hold it up to the light, as if a change in perspective might make the impossible go away.

Two lines.

Not one. Not a faint maybe. Two.

“Oh my God,” you whisper, though the words barely make it past your lips. Your stomach churns, a cocktail of disbelief and panic swirling with the remnants of the overpriced airport mimosa you’d barely finished that morning.

You set the test down on the counter, its presence looming over you like it’s about to sprout arms and legs and start screaming mommy. The mirror stares back at you with wide eyes and a flushed face, betraying the calm you’re desperately trying—and failing—to summon.

This wasn’t in the plan. Not yet, anyway. Sure, you and Joe had tossed the idea around like kids dreaming about what they’d do if they won the lottery. Someday, you’d both said, voices warm with the kind of certainty that comes with knowing someday was still miles away. Except now it wasn’t. Now, someday had packed its bags, booked an early flight, and was knocking on your front door with a freaking plus sign in tow.

Your phone buzzes against the counter, breaking the spell. A message from Joe. You grab it with shaky hands, hoping it’ll say practice is running late because you’re not ready to face him—not yet.

“Just finished. Home in 20. Love you.”

Your throat tightens. Love you too, you type back, fingers trembling, though it feels like a lie of omission. You toss the phone aside and sink to the floor, staring at the ceiling like it might offer you some divine revelation. It doesn’t.

"Maisie," you mutter, your voice steadier than your heart. You fumble for your phone, pulling up her number with muscle memory born from years of late-night calls about heartbreaks and bad decisions. She picks up on the second ring, because of course she does.

“What’s up, Mama Burrow?” Maisie chirps, the nickname rolling off her tongue like she’d been waiting all week to use it. “You finally settling back into boring married life, or is Joe still parading you around town like he’s the first guy to ever marry someone hot?”

You open your mouth to reply but nothing comes out. A beat of silence stretches long enough for her to pick up on it.

“Uh-oh,” Maisie says, her tone shifting. “What’s wrong?”

“I...” Your voice cracks, and the word sticks in your throat like glue. You take a deep breath, trying to sound normal, but Maisie’s already caught on. She always does.

“Spill it,” she demands, no-nonsense now.

“I think I’m pregnant.”

The words feel foreign, clumsy, like they don’t belong to you. There’s a beat of silence on the other end, and for a second you think Maisie might actually have dropped the phone.

“Holy shit,” she finally says. “Are you sure?”

You glance at the test on the counter, its little pink lines glaring back at you like a smug toddler. “Pretty sure.”

Maisie whistles low. “Okay, okay. Don’t freak out. Deep breaths. Are you freaking out? You sound like you’re freaking out.”

“I’m definitely freaking out.”

Maisie’s sharp inhale is audible even through the speaker. “Alright, first things first—how the hell did this happen? And don’t give me the when two people love each other very much spiel.”

You let out a nervous laugh, your free hand rubbing at your temples. “Maisie, I don’t know! Everything was so... perfect on the honeymoon, and I guess we weren’t exactly strict about—”

“Girl,” she interrupts, “did you honeymoon baby yourself into a panic attack right now?”

“Maybe!” you squeak, voice climbing an octave. You glance at the test again, as if its tiny, pastel-pink lines might have disappeared in the past thirty seconds. No such luck. “Oh God, Maisie, I don’t know how to tell Joe. This was not in the playbook.”

Maisie snorts. “You mean Joe’s playbook? The one he probably memorized while you were still deciding on your wedding shoes?”

You groan, dragging your knees up to your chest as you sit on the floor, phone cradled between your ear and shoulder. “I’m serious! He’s going to come home and think we’re on the same page about unpacking, settling in, maybe rescuing a dog before we even think about—” You choke on the word. It’s too big. Too real.

“Parenting,” Maisie finishes for you, voice softer now. “Hey, listen at me—well, pretend you’re looking at me.”

“I’m on the floor, Maisie. I can’t even listen at myself right now.”

“Drama queen,” she mutters, then clears her throat. “Okay, listen. Joe Burrow is, like, the definition of cool under pressure. Super Bowls. Heisman speeches. The guy even pulled off that stupid cigar picture—”

“It was kind of hot,” you admit weakly.

“Exactly my point. If anyone’s going to handle surprise baby news like a champ, it’s him.”

You press the heel of your hand to your chest, trying to calm your heart, which feels like it’s attempting a touchdown dance. “But what if he doesn’t? What if he’s not ready? What if I’m not ready?”

Maisie scoffs. “Girl, you’ve been ready since we were, like, fourteen and you made me play house with you and pretend our dolls had perfect marriages.”

“That was your idea,” you mumble, cheeks flushing despite yourself.

“Details,” she says breezily. “Point is, you love Joe, right? And he loves you. Like, disgustingly so. This is just... an early plot twist in your love story.”

You nibble on your bottom lip, her words seeping in despite the chaos in your head. “A plot twist,” you echo softly.

“Exactly. You guys are basically the rom-com of the century. This is the part where you freak out, but then you tell him, and he gives you that stupidly dreamy look he always gives you, and everything’s fine. Better than fine. It’s Burrow-level fine.”

A laugh bubbles out of you, shaky but genuine, and for a moment, the knot in your chest loosens. Maisie always has this way of dragging you back from the ledge, even if it’s with an eye roll and a smack of reality.

“Okay,” you say finally, exhaling. “Okay. You’re right. I can do this.”

“Damn straight, you can.” There’s a pause, and then Maisie’s voice is smug. “You’re not gonna, like, practice how to tell him, are you?”

“I might.”

“You’re such a nerd.”

“Shut up, Maisie.”

Her laugh is warm, grounding, and you lean your head back against the cabinet, clutching the phone like a lifeline. The thought of Joe walking through that door still sends your stomach into somersaults, but Maisie’s words cling to you like armor.

“You’re going to be an amazing mom,” she adds softly after a moment.

Your throat tightens again, but this time, it’s different—like the panic is starting to make room for something else. Something softer.

“Thanks, Maisie,” you whisper, voice cracking.

“Anytime. Now go splash some water on your face before Joe comes home and thinks you’ve been crying over a pet shelter commercial or something.”

“I don’t do that!” you protest weakly.

Maisie snorts. “Sure you don’t. Call me after you tell him, okay? I’ll be waiting with popcorn.”

You hang up, her voice still echoing in your ear, and stand on shaky legs. The test is still there on the counter, quiet and unassuming, like it didn’t just upend your entire universe.

You stare at it for a moment longer, then glance at the clock. Fifteen minutes until Joe walks through the door. Fifteen minutes to figure out how to tell him the most life-changing news of your lives.

No pressure.

And like clockwork, fifteen minutes pass and the door creaks open. You immediately straighten up from where you’re perched on the edge of the couch, legs tucked underneath you. You’ve spent the past fifteen minutes trying to look casual, which is surprisingly difficult when your insides feel like they’ve been twisted into a pretzel.

Joe steps into the house, duffle bag slung over one shoulder, his usually confident posture slightly slumped. His hair is damp with sweat, his cheeks flushed, and the moment you catch sight of his expression, your rehearsed speech evaporates into thin air.

“Hey,” you call softly, plastering on a smile. “How was practice?”

Joe groans in response, dropping his bag by the door and toeing off his sneakers with more force than usual. He doesn’t answer right away, just runs a hand through his hair and flops onto the armchair across from you, his long legs sprawling out in exhaustion.

“Terrible,” he finally says, dragging the word out like it’s physically painful.

Your stomach sinks. This is not the Joe you were expecting to walk into the room. You were braced for smiles, maybe a kiss hello, and definitely a much lighter mood. But this version of him—frustrated, clearly in need of venting—throws all your plans into chaos.

“Terrible?” you echo, hoping he’ll elaborate so you can stall a little longer.

“Terrible,” he repeats, throwing his head back against the chair and closing his eyes. “Nothing clicked today. The line wasn’t holding, the receivers were off, and I couldn’t hit a damn target to save my life. It’s like the entire offense forgot how to play football overnight.”

His voice is tight, his usual even-keeled tone replaced by an edge of irritation. You watch as he pinches the bridge of his nose, the familiar gesture making your heart ache a little. He’s so rarely like this—usually the calm in any storm—but when he does get frustrated, it hits hard.

You shift on the couch, unsure of what to say. Normally, you’d jump in with words of reassurance, tell him it’s just one bad day and he’ll bounce back like he always does. But right now, your mind is too preoccupied with the secret still tucked away behind your lips.

“You okay?” he asks suddenly, cracking one eye open to look at you.

Your heart jumps into your throat. “Me? Oh! Yeah. Totally fine. Why?”

Joe squints at you, like he’s trying to read something between the lines, but after a moment, he lets it drop. Maybe he’s too tired to push. Maybe you’re better at faking normal than you thought. Either way, he slouches further into the chair, his head lolling to the side.

“I’m just over it,” he mutters. “Sometimes it feels like everything has to be perfect, you know? Like, I can’t afford to have a bad day. Not with the season coming up. Not with everything riding on me.”

The weight in his words makes your chest tighten. You know he puts so much pressure on himself, even when no one else is. It’s one of the things you love about him—his determination, his drive—but hearing it like this makes you want to wrap him in a hug and take some of that burden off his shoulders.

Instead, you sit there silently, because your secret feels like a tangible wall between you, keeping you from saying what you really want to.

Joe lets out a humorless laugh. “Can you imagine throwing a kid into the mix right now?” He shakes his head, running a hand down his face. “I’d lose my mind.”

Your stomach drops.

He doesn’t mean anything by it. You know that. He’s venting, speaking off the cuff, probably not even thinking about what he’s saying. But the words hit you like a brick anyway, sharp and unyielding, and suddenly your palms feel clammy against the soft fabric of your leggings.

You manage a small laugh—weak and wobbly, but hopefully passable. “Yeah, that’d be... a lot.”

Joe doesn’t notice the crack in your voice. He stands, stretching his arms over his head with a groan before glancing down at you. “I’m gonna hit the shower. Try to shake off the rest of this day.”

“Good idea,” you say quickly, nodding like a bobblehead.

He leans down to kiss your forehead—a brief, automatic gesture that still makes your heart flutter despite the weight in your chest—and then heads toward the stairs, his footsteps heavy against the wood.

The moment he disappears, you sag against the couch, letting out a shaky exhale you didn’t realize you were holding. Your eyes dart to the bathroom down the hall, where the pregnancy test is still tucked away in a drawer like some kind of incriminating evidence.

What are you supposed to do now? How do you tell him something this big when he’s clearly already carrying so much?

You pull your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around them as your mind races. Part of you wants to march upstairs, blurt it out, and deal with the fallout. But another part—the louder, more terrified part—wants to bury the news under a mountain of throw pillows and pretend it doesn’t exist.

Joe’s words echo in your mind, sharp and unshakable. I’d lose my mind.

Maybe Maisie was wrong. Maybe this plot twist wasn’t something Joe was ready for. Maybe you weren’t ready for it, either.

And yet, deep down, you know you can’t keep this to yourself forever. This isn’t just your story to tell; it’s his, too.

You just have to figure out how.

┈┈┈

The smell of freshly brewed coffee fills the kitchen, warm and inviting, a small comfort in the midst of the chaos swirling inside your head. You’re standing at the counter in your robe, staring at the dark liquid as it pours into your mug, willing the caffeine to work its magic and steady your nerves.

Maisie’s already at the table, legs crossed, scrolling through her phone as she sips from her own cup. She’d shown up at 7 a.m. sharp, a whirlwind of energy even in yoga pants and an oversized hoodie, the perfect distraction from the tangled mess of your thoughts.

“So,” Maisie says, finally looking up. “Did you tell him?”

Your heart skips a beat. You turn back to the coffee maker, suddenly fascinated by the machine’s little blinking light. “Not... exactly.”

Maisie groans, setting her phone down with an exaggerated thud. “Girl. What do you mean, ‘not exactly’? That was the whole point of last night!”

“I tried,” you say defensively, glancing over your shoulder. “But he came home in a mood, and it just didn’t feel like the right time.”

Maisie gives you a look—a mix of sympathy and exasperation that only a best friend can pull off. “Okay, but there’s never going to be a perfect time. You know that, right? You just have to rip off the Band-Aid.”

Before you can reply, you hear the familiar creak of the stairs, and your chest tightens. Joe’s footsteps are heavy as he descends, his presence filling the kitchen even before he appears.

When he finally walks in, you can tell immediately that he’s still carrying yesterday’s frustration. His jaw is tight, his hair slightly mussed from sleep, and his movements have that sharp, impatient edge that screams not a morning person.

“Morning,” you say tentatively, hoping the coffee might soften his mood.

Joe grunts in response, heading straight for the counter without sparing a glance in your direction. He grabs a mug and pours himself some coffee, his shoulders hunched as he takes a sip.

Maisie watches him with raised eyebrows, her own cup paused halfway to her lips. “Wow,” she says dryly. “Good morning to you too, Sunshine.”

Joe doesn’t even acknowledge her, his focus fixed on the steam rising from his mug. You wince, already anticipating what’s coming next.

Maisie sets her cup down with a clink, crossing her arms. “Alright, what’s your problem?”

Joe finally looks at her, his expression dark. “I don’t have a problem.”

“Uh-huh,” Maisie says, leaning back in her chair. “Because stomping around the kitchen like a grumpy giant definitely screams ‘everything’s fine.’”

“Maisie—” you start, but she holds up a hand to stop you.

“No, seriously,” she says, her voice gaining heat. “What’s with the attitude? You’re acting like the world’s ending, and she—” Maisie gestures to you with her free hand, “—is bending over backward trying not to stress you out.”

Joe frowns, glancing at you for the first time that morning. “I’m fine,” he says, but it’s clipped, like he’s trying to end the conversation before it starts.

Maisie narrows her eyes. “Well, maybe you should try being a little more considerate. Especially with her condition.”

The room goes silent.

Your blood runs cold, and Maisie freezes, her face paling as she realizes what she’s just said. You stare at her, wide-eyed, your heart pounding in your chest.

“What condition?” Joe asks slowly, his brows furrowing as he looks between the two of you.

Maisie presses her lips together, looking like she wants to melt into the floor. She flicks her gaze toward you, silently pleading for help, but your mind is too blank to come to her rescue.

Joe’s eyes narrow, his focus shifting entirely to you. “What’s she talking about?”

You open your mouth to say something—anything—but no words come out. The silence stretches, heavy and suffocating, and you can see the wheels turning in Joe’s head as he pieces it together.

“Wait,” he says, his voice dropping an octave. “Are you...?”

He doesn’t finish the sentence, but the look on his face says it all. Confusion, realization, and a flicker of something else—something you can’t quite read—flash across his features.

Maisie clears her throat, breaking the tension. “Well,” she says awkwardly, standing up and grabbing her mug. “This feels like a good time for me to leave.”

She doesn’t wait for a response, practically bolting for the door. The sound of it closing behind her echoes through the suddenly too-quiet kitchen.

Joe’s still staring at you, his coffee forgotten on the counter. You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but it feels like the ground is shifting beneath your feet.

“Is it true?” he asks, his voice softer now but no less intense.

And just like that, there’s no more hiding.

Your hands tighten around your coffee mug as if it’s the only thing keeping you tethered to reality. Joe’s gaze is locked onto you now, his exhaustion melting into something else entirely—a mix of confusion, worry, and a dawning realization that leaves no room for escape.

Your throat is dry, words caught somewhere between your heart and your mouth. The longer you stay silent, the heavier his question hangs in the air.

“Y/N,” he says again, more urgently this time. “Is it true?”

You set your mug down carefully on the counter, afraid it might slip from your trembling hands. His eyes follow the motion, then snap back to yours, searching for confirmation in your expression. You can feel your heartbeat thudding in your ears, loud and insistent, drowning out every coherent thought.

“I—” you begin, your voice cracking. You clear your throat, trying again. “Yes. It’s true.”

Joe takes a step back, blinking as though he’s been physically struck. His hands drop to his sides, and for a moment, he just stands there, staring at you like he’s trying to process a foreign language.

“I’m pregnant,” you add, the words tumbling out in a rush before you lose your nerve completely.

The silence that follows is deafening.

Joe drags a hand down his face, his features tense and unreadable. You hate that you can’t tell what he’s thinking, that the connection you’ve always shared feels out of reach in this moment.

“How long have you known?” he finally asks, his voice low and steady, but there’s an edge to it that makes your stomach twist.

“A few days,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “Since we got back from the honeymoon.”

He lets out a sharp exhale, shaking his head as if trying to clear his thoughts. “And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“I was going to!” you say quickly, stepping closer. “I just—” You falter, searching for the right words. “I didn’t know how. And yesterday, you were so upset, and I didn’t want to make things worse.”

“Make things worse?” Joe repeats, his tone incredulous. He sets his own mug down a little too forcefully, the sound making you flinch. “You thought this would make things worse?”

You swallow hard, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. “You were so frustrated about practice,” you say, your voice trembling. “And then you said that thing about how everything has to be perfect right now. I didn’t want to drop this on you and have you feel like—”

“Like what?” he interrupts, his eyes narrowing. “Like I wouldn’t want this?”

Your breath hitches, and you look away, unable to hold his gaze any longer. “I don’t know,” you admit quietly.

The room feels too small, the air thick with the weight of everything unspoken. Joe runs a hand through his hair, his frustration giving way to something softer, something almost vulnerable.

“Y/N,” he says, his voice gentler now, “I’m not mad that you’re pregnant. I’m mad that you felt like you couldn’t tell me. That you thought I wouldn’t be ready for something like this.”

You glance up at him, tears slipping down your cheeks despite your best efforts to hold them back. “It’s not that I didn’t want to tell you,” you say, your voice cracking. “I was scared. This wasn’t part of the plan, Joe. We just got married. We’re still figuring things out. And I know how much pressure you’re under right now—I didn’t want to add to it.”

He exhales slowly, stepping closer until he’s standing right in front of you. His hands find yours, pulling them away from where they’re wringing the hem of your robe. His grip is warm, grounding, and you cling to it like a lifeline.

“Look,” he says, his voice steady now. “I won’t lie—I wasn’t expecting this either. And yeah, it’s not perfect timing. But when has anything in our life ever gone exactly according to plan?”

You let out a shaky laugh, and he smiles, just a little, the tension in his shoulders easing.

“We’ve always figured things out together,” he continues. “This isn’t any different. It’s just... a bigger adjustment. But if there’s one thing I know, it’s that there’s nobody I’d rather figure it out with than you.”

His words hit you square in the chest, and you feel a fresh wave of tears threatening to spill over. But this time, they’re not born of fear—they’re from relief, from the overwhelming love that’s been there all along, even in the moments of doubt.

Joe reaches up, brushing a tear from your cheek with his thumb. “We’ve got this, okay?” he says softly.

You nod, a small smile breaking through despite the storm of emotions still swirling inside you. “Okay.”

And for the first time in days, you believe it.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[rose-tinted-kalopsia]

≡;-꒰ 𝑿𝑨𝑽𝑰𝑬𝑹 (𝑳𝑼𝑴𝑰𝑬𝑹𝑬) ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I  𝒕𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆

╰┈➤ ❝ xavier x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni | kinktober '24 day 14 (15… x_x)

tags : pwp (with plot), (it’s uhh kind of more on the plot side ish… i think? maybe? hfskj), praise, established but developing relationship, mild angst, hurt/comfort (ish), jealousy, possessiveness, slight spoilers for the lumiere myth, references to “midnight whispers”, kissing and making out, sliiight dry humping, wall sex, vaginal sex, desperate sex so it’s kind of rough ish, creampie, tl;dr both of you just can’t get enough of each other, use of pet names “angel” and “my star”, lmk if i missed any tags!

wc : 3.7k

an : okay so i’m late queueing this but. COUNTDOWN TO XAVIER’S BIRTHDAY - ONE DAY TO GO !!! :D for my beloved darling boy here’s 1 out of 3 total fics prepared for him this month <333 (which may be off-schedule, BUT…) this was fun to write, so i hope you have just as much fun reading! sdkjfhsdk at this point i think i’ve barely ever written xavier fics without plot/feelings… loving this man will just do that to you i guess…

taglist : @interstellar-inn @pixelcafe-network @hunters-association @darlingdummycassandra @spotted-salamander @milkandstarlight @thoupenguinman @valyvinny @rafayelsheart @jellyroom2 @chemiru @ywnzn @rafayelsgf @pepprrmint @angel-jupiter @love-and-deepstrays @keioxo @theanbitchless (SIGN UP HERE)

AO3 / KINKTOBER MASTERLIST / KO-FI JAR / COMMISSIONS

There’s a lot more to Xavier’s jealousy than you realize, and you’re adamant on setting it right.

This was how it was to be in love with you.

The sweet smell of roses, a walk under the cherry tree.... The calm breeze of morning and soft, fresh linen sheets. Sunlight peeking in through the window, pages of a book. Of words that could mean more to him than he could ever think to describe.

Xavier could call on all the possible analogies he could think of, pull from all the poems and stories that he'd read. And yet none could compare to you. It was in the same way that the stars were second to none—so too, then, were you.

You had always called him your star. But to him, the opposite was just as true.

And perhaps that was why this was so difficult.

The stars were different.

Sometimes changing in position, sometimes visible, sometimes not... From where the both of you stood, they were tiny specks of light in the vast domain of the sky—illuminating the night as much as they could, but part of a different world altogether. Unreachable. Untouchable. So bright, so radiant, that the single, slightest touch could burn him down to nothing.

They belonged to the skies; better admired from afar. It was torture to fall in love with something that, to anyone, felt utterly, unspeakably unattainable—

But that was how it was to be in love with you.

And it was a curse as much as a blessing.

"So then Tara mentioned this new place that opened up recently, and she swears by its service! She said we should totally go out and celebrate!" Your eyes gleamed with excitement as you spoke, taking in a spoonful of your ice cream to bring up to your lips. "So this does mean I have a little last-minute rendezvous later tonight... I'd have invited you, too, but—you know. Girl's night?"

His gaze remained transfixed.

The pace at which you both walked was matched, and relatively relaxed—yet he'd barely touched his ice cream. Instead, blue eyes focused on you as you spoke, tracing the movement of your lips and that sparkle in your eyes that he could never ever tire of.

"Okay," he murmured.

When you looked up at him, he glanced away, bringing a hand back to rub sheepishly at the bridge of his nose.

"...Really, really? Just okay? You usually, I dunno, ask me more about the people I'm with, or something..."

He shook his head, and there it was—the little smile on your face didn't go unnoticed. He knew you were trying not to tease, and your actions were so well-known by him that he'd memorized them all for himself. It was endearing to see you like this, knowing you probably knew his habits just as well as he did yours. And at the same time, he knew that you were right.

"Well, I mean... It's just Tara and the others," he said slowly. "You've... been spending a lot of your time with your hunter friends lately. I know who they are."

"I know who they are. You've a way with words, huh?" With a roll of your eyes, you took another bite of ice cream, before nudging him slightly with your elbow. "I've been trying to get to know more of the hunters in the Association lately. There's a lot of them, you know? I'm really glad that everyone's been so nice."

This time, he didn't say anything. Only a quiet hum, the soft crunch of autumn leaves on the concrete a sound that proved comforting to both of you.

The truth was, he was trying not to be so childish about it.

Something stirred in his chest when you spoke, that familiar discomfort that came with a feeling he knew to be jealousy.

It wasn’t a nice feeling.

But it was also easy to lose a star.

It was easy to lose you when, sometimes, he didn’t feel as if he had the right, really, to own you.

Because who was he to control your feelings?

There was no guarantee that, in this lifetime, you wouldn’t just up and leave.

And the more time you spent with others, the more he realized how true that could be.

There was no certainty that this was end game.

“Xavier?”

He heard your voice call out softly to him, and he looked down—

God. You were so cute.

Your head tilted to the side with a little air of concern, and he couldn’t help but smile. The moment a gentle breeze blew, he leaned down for a cheeky kiss on your forehead.

“X-Xavier—?!”

The incredulous expression on your face was one he wished he could preserve in his mind for eternity. He was sure that if that were possible, he really would.

“It’s nothing,” he assured. And he, himself, wanted to believe that to be true. “I like walking with you. It’s nice like this.”

It’s nice like this.

I hope it stays like this.

I hope that this time, we can just… stay together…

—

Oops.

That was the first thought in your head as you shot up from bed, eyes bleary with sleep.

Your phone was in your hand, and you stared aghast.

Package delivered.

You thought you’d been delusional when you could have sworn you heard nothing of a doorbell, until you looked at the address. And that was not your apartment number. That was Xavier’s.

You’d forgotten to change it—again.

Haphazardly throwing on a sweater and putting on your shoes, you raced out your door. The fact that you had yet to receive a text from him about it, nor have it delivered to you, likely meant one of two things: either he hadn’t received it and it was waiting outside his door, or he’d discovered what was in it.

His door absolutely did not have a package waiting outside it.

“Xavier? Xavier!” a little bit out of breath from the sheer shock of such a morning, you called out for him and hurriedly knocked on his door.

“Good morning,” came a voice from inside.

He wasn’t opening the door.

“Xavier…?”

“Is this about your package?”

“...Yes! Yes, it is! I forgot to change the address—”

“I have it.”

“Th-that’s great! Could you, maybe, open the door…”

A shuffling could be heard, and when the door did open, your jaw immediately dropped at the sighed before you.

He had opened it.

“Did you really order this? Were you planning to come here again and ask me to wear it?”

Xavier was frowning, his arms crossed in front of him—he wasn’t at all happy, that much you could tell. But you almost couldn’t focus on that. Not with the black tassel ear cuff hanging on his right ear, not with the suit he was currently wearing. And, those black gloves, the metal cuffs, the gold embellishments, the crimson dye, the blood-red collar… and everything.

It was a stark difference to how you usually saw him.

Xavier almost never wore black… But this looked phenomenal on him.

In retrospect, you supposed that there was nothing he could ever truly look bad in. But this? This was a whole other level of eye candy. There was absolutely no keeping that giddy smile from spreading across your face, even as you brought your hand up to cover your mouth.

“Don’t look at me like that…”

The way his brows furrowed was near downright adorable, the corners of his mouth turning down into a little pout. You could have squealed.

Almost.

Instead, your hands reached out in a look of wonder as you slid your touch down the side of his arm, feeling the well-made fabric of the suit. It was just a cosplay, and yet, it nonetheless seemed so well-made, mearly comparable to the original…

“You opened the package? It’s mine, you know,” you murmured, and with a huff, he stepped aside to allow you into his apartment. You weren’t mad that he opened it, really—and the fact that he put it on? While you could tell he wasn’t happy about it, he was already being nice enough to indulge you with all this again.

“Is it really your package? You could have delivered it here on purpose. I saw Lumiere on the label. These are clothes in my size.”

For a moment the two of you stared at each other in silence, and you could very well remember how this played out the last time you were in this situation.

“Well,” you started, if only to fill the air around you that had grown a little tense. “I didn’t expect it to arrive this soon… We were talking about it last night. You know, with the girls? A few days ago at the office, apparently Nero was all busy because a new line of Lumiere merch came out—a whole alternate costume! We talked about it all night and I had to order a set, too, I just thought I wouldn’t get it for another week—”

You were cut off in a swift movement.

With wide eyes, you found yourself pressed up against the wall, Xavier’s hands on either side of your head. The warmth of his presence so near you had you holding your breath, almost as if the air around you had turned from tense to suffocating. There was something about it that simply rendered you unable to breathe. It was easy to get all dizzy with him so close to you.

But when you looked at him, what you were met with was... not anger.

There wasn’t a trace of it on his features.

Instead, you were surprised to see a hint of something else.

His lips pressed into a thin line. Displeased, yes—but his gaze, while kept on yours, was desperate. Eyebrows knitted together, eyes narrowed ever so slightly with the prospect of almost begging you for something that you couldn’t quite place... Something you felt as if you should.

“Xavier?” you murmured. Your hand raised, slowly, carefully, up to cup his face.

This was different from the last time you’d played around with Lumiere’s costumes. He wasn't just sulking over it.

“...But is that really who you want to be calling?” His voice was quiet. Too quiet. This was an emotion you couldn’t quite read, nor was it one that was familiar to you.

“Xavier? What’s going—”

“It’s always like this.”

Your mouth shut, and you frowned, trying desperately to understand the tone in his voice.

“It’s still always Lumiere, right?” he let out a slow breath. “Why do you care so much about Lumiere? You’d talk about him to your friends, too. You’d spend an entire night without me for him.”

“What? That’s not—I told you, we just wanted to—”

“But I’m right here.”

The calm, even tone with which he’d been speaking slipped in that moment. A crack in his voice—though barely audible right in the moment—wouldn’t have gone unnoticed by you.

Something was wrong.

He was rarely ever like this with you—this wasn’t even an argument, it was just… It was something.

His right hand, previously placed by your ear, shifted to take your hand from his cheek. Taking the other at the same time, he pinned both hands back against the wall, preventing you from moving. The lace of your fingers together had you hyper aware of the leather texture of his gloves, and your breath hitched. 

He leaned in.

“I’m right here.”

A repeat of his words.

Yet he almost sounded as if he could break.

“I know you are,” you started, speaking carefully.

“Do you?”

“I do.”

“You don’t.”

“I do.”

This time you spoke firmly, meeting his gaze full-on with a certain sense of conviction that you were not going to let him try to doubt. “Please... what brought this on, Xavier?”

For a while, there was no answer.

His chest rose and fell, deep, calming breaths for himself almost as if trying to compose himself in front of you. You didn't like that. He did it so often; hiding things from you for your sake, putting on a braver face for you if only to keep you from worrying any more than you needed to.

But you needed to.

You wanted to.

Was that not what a relationship entailed? To worry about each other?

You could tell that this meant more to him than simple, petty jealousy—and you were determined to find out what that was.

“Don’t do that,” you mumbled. You frowned slightly, as if to make your point. “Don’t act in front of me. Don't put up a front. You’re upset, right? Something’s wrong. Xav… Are you still jealous? Is that what this is?”

“...I’m not.”

“But you are. Don’t do that.”

Like before, his eyes averted, but you didn’t miss the way he had to grit his teeth just to make sure he would keep a straight face.

“Xavier.”

You tugged at your wrists.

“Xavier.”

His eyes closed. While his grip on your hands loosened slightly, he didn’t let up—his forehead pressed against yours, and for the first time, you realized how shaky he felt. 

His breath was warm. His hands were warm. You could barely notice the cold of the wall pressed against your back, the rest of his living room fading away into the background as if all that existed was you, and him, and this little corner you had to yourselves.

As if it were all that mattered.

In a way, it was.

He was all that ever mattered.

“I don’t want it to change,” he whispered. His voice was small; smaller than you had ever heard it before. “I don’t want us to change.”

“Huh? But we’re not changing…”

“No, we’re not. I hope we don’t. It’s enough like this, just to be with you…”

Something about his words stirred at the pit of your stomach.

I hope we don't.

Perhaps that was it. Perhaps you'd been spending too much time without him, and perhaps he just wanted to feel... a little more wanted by you.

“Xavier…”

This time your hand slipped away from his hold, and it was back on his face, cupping his cheek. You watched him lean into it—a soft sigh of resignation, nuzzling into the palm of your hand like he wanted nothing more than your touch.

You swallowed thickly.

“Xavier, it’s not that I’m so fond of Lumiere…” you spoke softly. “I’m fond of you.”

His eyes opened, a slow blink of mild confusion.

“Lumiere is you. Is he not? He’s handsome, and gentle… just like you are.”

When his expression didn’t let up, you continued.

“Xavier, you saved me. I’ve always thought that Lumiere was amazing… But, now, knowing that he’s you—doesn’t that mean I get to love both you and him at the same time?” Your thumb rolled over his skin, and you leaned up slightly, teasing for a kiss. “I loved you first. So I like him because he’s you.”

The tips of your noses touched, and his lips brushed against yours. Your eyes locked this time, and he was all that you could see. All that you would ever see. Close. Impossibly close. Within reach… this time, because this was the Xavier that had come to love you. And that was all that mattered to you.

Maybe you felt a little sense of pride knowing this star was all yours. And maybe that was what he needed to feel, too.

“I… don’t like him,” he murmured. “I don’t want to be him… I just… want to be me. With you. Like this.”

"And you are you."

"But I'm not Lumiere. Lumiere is part of the past. I want… I… I'm here."

Ah.

Somehow, you understood.

Your gaze softened, and you let out a slow, quiet sigh. "Oh, Xavier…" you mumbled. “I like you no matter who you choose to be, Xavier. Ah—”

You smiled, and then shook your head. “Sorry," you corrected. "That’s wrong. I mean… I love you, no matter who you choose to be.”

You saw his eyes light up at that, breath hitching. Those blue, blue eyes—bluer than blue, the most beautiful shade of it that you’ve ever seen.

That was it.

That was what he needed to hear.

His lips trembled slightly, and then all you could feel were them.

He crashed against you, pinning you back against the wall just as he had done earlier, and you could feel everything. His knee between your legs, inching upwards, pressing you back with every ounce of his being as if the single, final thread of self-control had snapped.

“My star… my angel…” 

He gasped between kisses, barely muttering out words before he would drag his lips plush against yours in a way that made you want. A way that made you need.

You moaned against him, his body melting, molding into yours.

My star.

Xavier was so unfair.

Even the nicknames you would reserve for him could be turned right back to you, snaking his way into your heart that he had, that he owned, because you had given it—everything—all to him.

And you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Not when the heat of his presence wrapped enveloped you in a hazy mist of love and desire, the pull of his touch so strong that you couldn’t ever think of leaving. His fingers curled into yours, his grip straining. Bodies pressed together, the outline of his bulge grinding between your legs—his hips rutted into you with not much thought behind his movements, and your desperate pants fell into each and every kiss as if you simply couldn’t get enough. 

You couldn’t get enough.

Your mind could only fill with thoughts of him, because he’d taken that for himself as much as everything else.

“X-Xavie—mmphf—”

It didn’t take long.

Clothes discarded in barely a moment before he was hoisting you up on his waist and fucking you, your back hitting the wall with every upward thrust of his hips.

“X-Xavier!” you cried. Your eyes rolled back as he dipped his head into your neck, muffling his moans into your skin. “Xavier… Xavier… So good for me… so, so good, nnh—haa—”

Every praise uttered from your lips caused his thrusts to jerk, a whine falling from his lips.

He liked it.

“Mmh… Mh—yes— j-just like that! Ngh, you fuck me so, so well—ha-ah!”

You clawed at his back as the tip of his cock edged against your sweet spot, and you could tell with the way he choked out a laugh into your skin that you were in for it. His hips continued to snap against yours until you could barely register any coherent thought in your head. He would plunge in and out of your wet, leaking cunt with reckless abandon—you almost couldn't breathe.

“Xavier! Hnng—so good! Good boy, good—ngh—! Th-there! Please!”

You were long gone.

He could only hold you up with his sheer strength—you felt weak as you cried out endless strings of praise, obscene sounds of sex filling the room in an instant.

“My star…” He leaned back to hold you properly against the wall, grunting and panting. With his hair stuck to his forehead, droplets of sweat sliding down his skin, your eyes glazed over. “My star. My star. Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine…”

With a mewl, your legs tightened around his waist, and he kissed you. Tongue, and teeth, and messy. Just as needy as earlier. Just as desperate as earlier. Your hands continued to claw at his back, fervent movements of his lips against yours in a foggy frenzy of pure want.

“Mine,” he gasped, pulling away just enough to speak. “My angel, my star—my pretty—pretty angel—my—good girl—”

His kisses, his thrusts, were punctuated with every word, driving you absolutely insane.

“Ngh—ah! Xavi—vie—Xavier—!”

You could barely get any more praise out as he easily turned the tables on you, lulling you into a headspace where all you could say was his name. His name, that, gladly, he would easily relinquish to you. A name that was yours as much as his. A name that you could call, this time, with the comfort of him being with you.

“Angel…” he groaned. “Feel'so good… Taking me so well…”

“G-gonna cum! Xavie—Xav—haa—!”

“Good girl… Good girl, good—girl—good—ngh—girl…!”

That was it.

One last thrust had you spasming around him, practically collapsing into his arms as he held you up, keeping you between the wall and his body as his own trembled with a release triggered by your own.

“So much… so much…” you buried your face into his neck, and he rubbed soft, soothing circles into your back. Hot, white ropes of cum filled your insides, enough to leak out of you, trailing down your legs.

The two of you stayed still for a moment, catching your breaths. There was comfort, in being held tightly in his embrace. And it wasn’t until a while later that either of you spoke.

“...The Lumiere plushie…” he breathed, quietly. “Do we have to keep it?”

You lifted your head, shooting him an incredulous look. “You’re still upset over it?!” Out of the corner of your eyes, you could see the dark-themed Lumiere plushie resting neatly atop of the coffee table, and you let out a huff. “Xavier, really, I promise you that I—”

You stopped.

He let out a soft laugh, his eyes crinkling in what you noted was not quite amusement, but… happiness, nonetheless.

You huffed slightly, but it felt lighter knowing that he was happy.

That was all you ever wanted, after all.

His forehead pressed back against yours, and he spoke again.

“Do you mean it?” he murmured. “What you said earlier. That you love me… No matter what?”

You smiled.

“Of course I do, silly. Isn’t that what you say to me all the time, too? What’s to make you think that I can’t say it back to you?” you gave him a playful swat, rolling your eyes. “I agree with you, you know… I like it like this. I like being with you. I want it to stay this way, too. Because all I've ever wanted was to be with you. You, whoever you feel like being. Whether it's Lumiere, or the Xavier in front of me now. That's... what it's like to love a star. Right?"

Something flashed in his eyes, then, before he nuzzled against you in that way he so often did with you.

“...Mm. So this is what it’s like to love you."

He was whispering, and he seemed to be speaking more to himself.

But, he smiled: 

“Ah, no… This is what it’s like to love you more.”

an : lumiere really is the best!!! 🥰✨

© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

[sugarypinecones]

a panic challenge is busted and having to avoid the cops with dodge… sneaking you into his bedroom while his mom and sister sleep… giving you a rodeo t-shirt to sleep in… maybe making the first move straight away… or maybe going to bed and then waking up a few hours later tangled together in his bed…

we were jet-set, bonnie and clyde — dodge mason x reader

warnings: SMUT(?) he never actually gets close enough but he gets.. pretty close, like cum in your pants close oops but i can do a pt2 i just kinda got confused and unsure how to really.. like do things idk and i kinda hate it but it took so much time and writing i feel bad if i scrapt it, mentions of reader living in texas obviously, reader has no real desire to win panic, whiny desperate dodge, idrk how to tag its late im tired, dayna interrupts without knowing

a/n: oh i love this actually. like actually love this. like im foaming at the mouth thinking about this actually. title from getaway car by taylor swift also, love u all and ty for the request!! 💐💐 also sucks esp the ending but like idk im down to rewrite the ending if not continue the tangled thing! just lmk if you actually wanted it and dont be afraid to leave other requests.

Living in Carp, Texas meant that there weren’t many fun things to do. You can only drive around an empty parking lot for so long before getting bored. So when the opportunity of playing Panic rises, you rise with it.

And surprisingly, you didn’t immediately get eliminated. In fact — you’ve somehow made it this far, round two, which.. you’re sure you’re going to fall to your death or just entirely not do it. And you were fine with that, truly. You had your fun.

Now it was time to focus on something a little bit more real – your chances of winning the pot were low, especially because of all that stuff last year, and because of Dodge Mason.

If you didn’t know what determination was before that boy, you definitely did now. It was hard not to see him and not see determination, especially after the first challenge. He didn’t have fear in his eyes when he did it, unlike any of the other contestants. He had something else.

You shift on the hood of the beat-up car, sighing as you look over your shoulder for any sign of your friends. It was hard to tell through the sea of people — some juniors who were eager to see the game, some graduates who refused to play, such and such.

Dodge’s eyes roamed over to you, taking in the way you fiddled with the bracelets on your wrists and the tight, nervous expression on your face. He knew what you were thinking — he could see it in your eyes. I don’t belong here.

He watched you look around for your friends and found himself wondering why you were alone. Why weren’t you with them?

He seems to recognize you from the first challenge, and when you meet his gaze, he raises a hand. A small smile follows, and you can’t stop yourself from smiling in return.

Something sparked in Dodge’s chest as your lips curled into a small smile — he hadn’t expected a smile in return. Nor had he expected your eyes to soften at the sight of him, or your cheeks to flush a pretty shade of pink.

Maybe he had more of a chance with you than he thought.

The sight of you smiling in return gives him just enough confidence to walk over, stopping in-front of you. It was slightly unnerving, but it felt nice. Exhilarating, even.

He smirked to himself, shoving his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching out to you — and just like that, his bravado returned.

“So,” he started, turning his head to the side to look down at you as he leaned against the car. “Here to root for me?”

Your gaze tilts to him, and you almost laughed. “No, I’m here to win.”

Dodge raised an eyebrow at your response, a scoff and chuckle of disbelief slipping between his lips. He turned around, leaning his hip against the hood of the car, the smirk never wavering from his face.

“Oh, really?” He said, cocking his head to the side. “You honestly think you stand a chance against me?”

He wasn’t sure where all this confidence was coming from - because if it were anyone else, he would’ve just been nodding along with simple responses by now.

You grin. “I know so.”

He let out a hearty laugh and shook his head.

“I’m serious!” You exclaim, although, you really aren’t. You planned to chicken out the second you got called on that death-trap of a beam, no way in hell are you risking your life just to possibly lose in the end.

“Yeah,” he begun, but you shook your head; letting laughs fall from your lips. “No, not really.” You grin up at him, and he acts surprised; but he kind of had a feeling from the start you wouldn’t actually go through with any of this.

“No? What do you mean, ‘no’?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re backing out just like that?”

Your eyes catch on the flex of his muscles as his arms fold over his chest, before flickering back up to his face with a shrug. “I guess—“

You’re cut off by the sound of sirens approaching, closing your eyes as you let out a frustrated exhale. Playing panic was dangerous — watching it, even.

Dodge’s expression quickly turned serious as the sound of sirens filled the air. He immediately turned his head towards the noise, his muscles tense and eyes narrowing.

He quickly looked back over at you, silently cursing how distracted he had become from your presence. He should have been on guard — his focus needed to be on the task at hand, not on some cute girl.

“Cops,” he said lowly, looking back at the police cars approaching.

“Obviously,” you retort, sliding of the hood as you glance over your shoulder. There wasn’t really much places to scatter to, but –

Your train of thought is cut off by his hand on your wrist, pulling you along towards a patch of woods.

Dodge moved fast, tugging on your wrist and pulling you away from the car. He quickly led you towards a patch of woods nearby, trying to put as much distance between you and the cops before they got out of their cars.

He kept his grip on your hand as you ran, his fingers wrapped firmly around your wrist. They were rough — calloused from working on the farm and years of horseback riding.

As they made it into the safety of the trees, Dodge pulled you behind a large oak, pinning you against the trunk.

He quickly retracted, internally cursing himself for doing such. “Sorry, instinct,” he grumbles, although not angry towards you, god, not you.

“You lead a lot of girls away from cops?” You quip, fighting the urge to laugh to yourself.

Dodge let out a huff of a laugh, shaking his head as he ran a hand through his hair. Adrenaline was still coursing through his veins, his heart thudding loudly in his chest.

He’d somehow managed to pull you almost 500 yards within that span of three minutes.

“Yeah, all the time,” he replied sarcastically, his smirk returning as he leaned his shoulder against the tree next to you. “You’re the twenty-third one I’ve led this month alone.”

You roll your eyes, “How charming.”

Dodge chuckled at your eye roll, leaning closer to you and looking down at you. His smirk widened as he pushed himself off of the tree, turning to face you fully.

“Yeah, I’m a real charmer,” he joked, crossing his arms over his chest once more. He paused then, noticing how close he was to you.

He cleared his throat before speaking again, pulling away, partially in fear of scaring you, partially in fear he couldn’t stop himself from asking to kiss you. “So, uh… you got a ride home or something?”

Fuck. No you did not. You hadn’t actually accounted that part down — you came with your friend, who is currently nowhere to be found, if not currently in the back of a cop car.

“No.” You huffed, narrowing your gaze as you looked at him, “I was gonna crash at Natalie’s,” You said, trying to explain your situation, which wasn’t hard to understand to begin with. Came with a friend, planned to leave with a friend, currently 500 yards away from said friend’s car, can’t exactly account to go home, as you told her you were going to bed three hours ago.

Dodge’s eyebrows furrowed at your answer — not out of annoyance, but concern. He knew the cops would be searching everywhere, and you didn’t have a ride home.

He thought for a moment, weighing his options. He couldn’t leave you out here alone until the police left. It was too dangerous.

He let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair again before speaking. “Alright,” he said, looking down at you. “You’re comin’ home with me, then.”

Your eyes widen, and you seem to swallow as you tilt your head forwards, perplexed. “What?”

Dodge raised an eyebrow at your reaction, his expression shifting to confusion. He was surprised that you seemed so shocked by his offer.

Although, he got it. You didn’t know him well — not outside of school at least. You had seem him a few times, sat by him in a few classes. Thought he was cute, too, but never would’ve admitted that.

“You need a place to stay for the night,” he explained, his eyes locked on yours. “And you sure as hell can’t stay here.”

He paused, eyeing you up and down before continuing. “So you’ll stay at my house. It’s not a big deal.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but quickly snapped it shut, knowing he was right. Spending the night in the woods with the cops searching was a recipe for disaster.

Going home would be even worse.

And yet… spending the night at his house still stirred something within you — anxiety, excitement, curiosity — you couldn’t tell.

“Okay,” You nod, eyes darting around. “Yeah.” You exhale, it was for the better. You weren’t gonna sleep on the side of the road, and you knew Dodge.. to an extent, enough to know he’s not gonna pull an axe on you in your sleep.

Dodge’s face morphed into a sly grin as you agreed, his eyes sparkling with amusement. He knew he was probably going to regret this later — he’d never brought a girl to his house before, let alone a girl his mother didn’t approve of.

“Atta girl,” he said, lightly patting your shoulder before shoving his hands into his pockets. “Let’s go.”

Dodge stepped away from the protective cover of the trees, gesturing for you to follow him. The coast was clear for now, but he wasn’t taking any chances.

As you fell in step with him, he leaned down to your ear. “Just so you know,” he began in a low voice. “My mom doesn’t know you’re coming over. So.. don’t talk too loud when we get to the house, alright?”

You cock your head to the side, a slight laugh escaping under your breath. “Doesn’t know or isn’t okay?”

Dodge chuckled, shaking his head as he continued walking. “Both,” he answered, his hands still shoved in his pockets.

“She wouldn’t exactly be thrilled to have some girl she’s never met before spend the night out of nowhere.”

You nod, wondering why he’d offer in the first place then. He could’ve left you to get in trouble with your mom, left you to get eliminated, anything else.

“Is that your car?” You tilt your head forwards, breaking the silence that fell over the two teens, eyeing a white car.

Dodge followed your gaze, looking at the car you were eyeing. He nodded, a proud smile forming on his lips. “Yeah,” he said, a hint of boasting in his voice. “That’s her.”

You find it slightly funny that he’s gendered his car.

He quickly started towards the car, reaching it within a few long strides. He pulled the passenger side door open, motioning for you to get in. “C’mon.”

You almost hesitate — but, it’s not like you have another choice — or enough self control.

You hesitated for a moment, looking at the open door before climbing inside. You settled into the leather seat, shutting the door behind you, your stomach twisting with nervousness.

Dodge walked around to the driver’s side and got in, settling into the seat and buckling his seatbelt. He twisted the key in the ignition, the engine of the car coming to life with a low, rumbling purr.

He pulled out of the field and onto the road, navigating the deserted streets skillfully. You sat in silence for a few moments, the only sound being the low hum of the engine and the occasional crunch of gravel beneath the tires.

Dodge glanced over at you out of the corner of his eye, noticing how tense and quiet you seemed. He cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “You alright?”

You nod. “Yeah, I guess it’s just..” You trailed off, unsure of how to actually describe the feeling.

It wasn’t scary, but it was. You were almost excited, but you didn’t know him well. Any knowledgeable person would be wary, but god, was Dodge Mason cute.

“I don’t know.”

Dodge chuckled, a sympathetic scoff falling from his lips at your failed attempt at putting your feelings into words.

He could tell you were conflicted about all of this — going home with a guy you barely knew, spending the night in a home you’ve never been to before… he didn’t blame you.

He sighed, his hands gripping the steering wheel tighter. “Yeah, I’m sure this isn’t how you planned to spend your night, huh?”

You scoff. “Who doesn’t plan to go home with a boy they barely know after cops raid them?”

He shook his head with a grin and looked over at you again, his eyes scanning over your features. Despite the absurdity of the situation, he couldn’t help the fluttery feeling in his chest as he looked at you.

You stayed silent for a moment, your eyes fixed on the passing scenery outside the car window. The night was still and quiet, only the hum of the engine breaking the silence.

“Dodge?” You spoke up suddenly, your voice soft.

Dodge’s attention immediately went to you, his eyes flickering over to glance at you. “Yeah?” He responded, his tone just as quiet as yours.

You shifted in your seat, turning to face him. “Can I ask you something?” you inquired, your expression slightly serious.

Dodge raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued by the sudden shift in your demeanor. “Shoot,” he replied, keeping his eyes on the road.

You paused for a moment, collecting your thoughts before speaking. “Why did you offer to let me stay the night?”

The question had been weighing on your mind since the moment he suggested it. You knew he wasn’t exactly the most responsible or trustworthy person, yet he’d gone out of his way to offer you refuge at his home.

Dodge’s grip tightened around the steering wheel as you asked the question. He expected it, knowing it was bound to come up eventually, but he wasn’t exactly prepared to answer it fully.

The truth was simple — he found you attractive, intriguing, and he was drawn to you in a way he couldn’t explain. But he wasn’t going to say that out loud, not yet.

Instead, he shrugged nonchalantally. “Seemed like you needed a place to stay,” he responded, keeping his tone casual.

Your eyebrows furrowed, sensing the hint of evasion in his answer. You knew there was more to it than that, but you also knew it wasn’t your place to push him for the truth — especially given your options in the current moment.

You let out a sigh, leaning back in your seat and looking out the window again. The rest of the ride passed in silence, only broken by the sound of the engine and the occasional rumble of the road beneath the tires.

After a few minutes, Dodge finally pulled into a long gravel driveway, leading up to a house. The house was modest, but well-kept. Even in the dim light, you could make out the meticulously maintained garden and the freshly painted exterior.

He shifted the car into park and killed the engine, turning to look at you. “We’re here.”

You unbuckled your seatbelt and looked out the windshield, taking in the sight of the house. It was cozy, but not overly extravagant. It looked lived in — a home owned by a family who actually spent time here.

You let out a shaky breath, nerves starting to bubble up inside you once more. This was really happening. You were really going in there.

It wasn’t like regular nerves you’d had before. Not like panic, more like when you’re hanging out with a friend you’ve met for the first time — although, you technically know Dodge.

Dodge could sense the anxiety radiating from you, your nervousness evident in the way you fidgeted in your seat. He let out a low sigh, his eyes flickering over your features for a moment before speaking.

“You’re gonna be fine,” he reassured you, his voice soft. “My mom and sister are probably already asleep, so just stay quiet.”

You nodded, smiling. “Well, let’s go then. I’m tired.”

Dodge returned your smile with a nod of his own, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he turned his attention to unbuckling his seatbelt.

He pushed the driver’s side door open, the soft creak of the metal mixing with the sound of the crickets chirping in the night air. He got out of the car and shut the door, rounding the hood and opening your door for you.

You stepped out of the car, your shoes crunching on the gravel beneath them. You followed Dodge as he led the way to the front door, your eyes darting around nervously, taking in the surroundings.

He paused in front of the door and fumbled through his pockets, searching for his keys. After a moment, he fished them out and unlocked the door, pushing it open quietly.

He wasn’t exactly worried about making noise - his mom usually didn’t pay mind to him coming late. She figured he’d be home way later in any other circumstances, anyways.

As Dodge opened the door, a warm, inviting light spilled out from inside the house. You followed him inside, stepping into the entranceway and closing the door softly behind you.

The interior of the house was cozy and homey, with warm wood accents and comfortable furnishings. There was a sense of order and cleanliness, but it didn’t feel overly stiff or overly lived-in.

Dodge gestured for you to keep your shoes on, before nodding towards a hallway. “My room’s down there,” he whispered, indicating the direction of a long hallway to the left of the entryway.

You followed his gaze, looking down the hallway. You could see several doors lining the sides of the hallway, presumably leading to different rooms — bathrooms, bedrooms, and the like.

You looked back at Dodge, your heart rate increasing as you realized the implication of his words. His room. Where he sleeps. Where you’ll be sleeping, in close proximity to him.

Dodge noticed the look on your face, noticing the way your eyes widened slightly, betraying your thoughts. He chuckled softly, trying to ease the tension.

“Relax,” he whispered, his tone playful. “You’ll be fine. My room’s big enough for the both of us.”

You roll your eyes, “OK, cowboy.” You step into the open door, taking in the dimly-lit room. It wasn’t much. Just trophies, a wardrobe and a bed and small clutter around the room.

You liked it. You could get used to it.

Dodge chuckled at your nickname, following you into the room and shutting the door behind him. The atmosphere grew more intimate as you both entered the enclosed space, the faint smell of his cologne mingling with the scent of his laundry detergent.

He leaned against the wall, watching you look around with a slight smirk on his lips. “Make yourself comfortable,” he said, gesturing to the bed.

You don’t take any convincing, and immediately flop down onto the bed, exhaling at the feel of the differing comfort in comparison to his car and old truck.

Dodge let out another chuckle as you flopped onto the bed, his eyes watching you sprawled out on his sheets. the sight amused him - you looked like a starfish on the soft material of the mattress.

He pushed away from the wall and walked across the room, sitting down on the edge of the bed next to you. “Comfy?” He teased, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Yeah,” you hummed, a soft grin adorning your face. “although,” you sit up, glancing to him, “wish I would’ve known i’d be having a sleepover. All my stuff is in Nat’s car.”

Dodge chuckled, his eyes scanning over you as you sat up next to him. “Well, I didn’t exactly plan for this either,” he retorted, a smirk still playing on his lips.

He thought for a moment, his gaze flicking towards the door and then back to you. “You can borrow something to sleep in, if you want.”

You nod vicariously, laughing. “I am not sleeping in this.”

Dodge chuckled, leaning back on his arms as he looked you up and down. He took in your outfit, noting how out of place it seemed in this setting.

“Yeah, it’s not exactly sleepwear,” he agreed, amusement in his voice. He hesitated for a moment, his eyes flickering over your body before he spoke again. “I got some old T-shirts you can borrow.”

He stood up, walking over to the closet, before tossing a shirt your way. It was larger, but you could tell that it was his. It smelt faintly like him, and you can make the outlines out of a cracked pattern from an old rodeo.

You smiled up at him, appreciatively. “Thanks,” you said, placing the clothes down beside you. “Do you mind if I change here?”

Being caught by his sister or mom wasn’t exactly a want for you right now.

“Nope, go ahead,” he replied, leaning against the wall lazily. “I won’t look.”

You nodded, watching as his gaze shifts towards the closet, adjusting clothes.

You waste no time peeling the clothes off of you, pulling the T-shirt over your body as you exhale, and then pulling the old sweatpants over your body, tying them as tight as you could around your waist.

“Okay.” You said.

He quickly shook the thoughts away, clearing his throat. “You decent?” He asked, looking over at you.

“Yep.” You nod, shifting back on the bed some, “Oh,” you glance away, “you can change too, sorry.”

Dodge chuckled at your realization, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He pushed himself off the wall and walked over to the bed, sitting down next to you again.

“Don’t worry about it,” he reassured you, reaching down and grabbing the hem of his shirt. “I wasn’t planning on sleeping in this, anyways.”

He pulled the fabric over his head and tossed it onto the floor, revealing his bare chest.

He knows how badly this could’ve ended - but, he was already here, and honestly the lack of sleep was beginning to make him more bold than he’d like to admit.

Your eyebrows raise, a soft laugh escaping your lips as you met his gaze.

Dodge noticed your reaction, his smirk widening as he caught your laugh. He chuckled in response, his eyes locked on yours.

“What?” He asked, his voice playful. “Never seen a guy shirtless before?”

You shake your head, blinking back shock. “I have,” you note, trying to pretend as if your eyes weren’t raking over his body.

“Just.. wasn’t expecting this.”

Her close proximity was intoxicating, the scent of her perfume filling his senses and clouding his thoughts.

He leaned in slightly, his face inches away from yours. His gaze flicked from your eyes to lips, the desire to kiss you overwhelming any logical thoughts in his mind.

"Tell me," he murmured, his voice low and rough. "Tell me you want this. Tell me to, and I will. But I need to hear you say it."

He leaned in further, his lips hovering just above yours, the gap between them practically non-existent.

"I want this," you admitted, barely audible.

Without another word, he closed the minimal gap between them, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss.

His hands moved from your cheek to grip your hips, pulling you flush against him.

But it wasn't just about physical need, you could sense. There was a sense of desperation in the way he held you, as if this moment was more than just a passing lust.

As the kiss deepened, Dodge backed you up against the bed, gently maneuvering you until you were trapped between him and the mattress.

His hands moved under your shirt, tracing a path up your bare skin, causing you to shiver against him.

Dodge trailed hot kisses down your neck and collarbone, leaving a trail of burning desire in their wake. His hands roamed over your body, worshiping every inch of your bare skin.

His mouth returned to yours, claiming your lips in a passionate embrace. He rolled his hips against you, eliciting a gasp from your lips as the friction between your bodies intensified.

With a smooth movement, he pulled away from your lips and moved to your jawline, nipping and nibbling at the sensitive skin there.

“You have no idea,” he rasped, his voice low and ragged with desire, “how long I've wanted to do this.”

His hands moved from your hips to your thighs, gripping the flesh hard as he shifted between your legs.

Dodge took a few moments to admire the sight of you beneath him, your face flushed and lips swollen from his kisses. He couldn't get enough of you, the way you tasted, the way you felt beneath him.

He leaned down to capture your lips again, his hands roaming further up your thighs. His fingers toyed with the waistband of the sweatpants, the thought of going further crossing his mind.

Dodge broke the kiss, panting slightly as he looked down at you again.

“God,” he rasped, his gaze roaming over your flushed face and disheveled hair. “You’re so damn beautiful like this.”

He leaned back down, his breath hot against your ear. “I want you,” he whispered, his voice low and rough. “All of you. Right here. Right now.”

His lips moved to your neck, trailing hot kisses down your collarbone as his hands continued to wander over your body. His fingers dipped beneath the waistband of the sweatpants, tracing patterns against your skin.

“Okay,” You nod, “okay,” you repeat softer.

Dodge's breath hitches at your agreement, his fingers stilling. He pulls away just enough to look at you, his expression a mixture of surprise and relief.

"Yeah?" He asks, his voice slightly shaky. "You're sure?"

You nod, “I’m sure.”

Dodge's response is immediate, his mouth crashing back down onto yours in a passionate kiss. His hands move faster now, pushing down the sweatpants and discarding them onto the floor.

He positions himself back between your legs, his body pressing against yours as he kisses you hungrily. One of his thighs slides against you, causing you to gasp into the kiss.

Dodge takes advantage of your moment of surprise, his tongue slipping past your lips to explore your mouth. His hands roam over your bare thighs and hips, gripping the flesh tightly as he continues to move against you.

You can feel his hardness pressing against you, the evidence of his desire evident and urgent. He pulls away from the kiss, panting slightly, and looks down at you.

“God,” he mutters, his voice ragged and hoarse. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

He shifts his hips, pressing against you more purposefully. The friction between your bodies causes him to let out a guttural groan, his head dropping down to bury in your neck.

He peppers your neck with kisses, his lips and teeth leaving behind a trail of marks and bites. He continues to rock his hips against you, the friction growing more and more intense as the seconds pass.

His hands roam over your body, mapping out every dip and curve with fervor. He's almost feverish in his touch, his need for you overwhelming his rational thoughts.

"I need," he gasps, his breath warm against your skin, "I need..."

He doesn't finish his sentence, instead moving to capture your lips in another bruising kiss. His hands move to your hips, gripping them tightly as he increases the pace of his movements. The friction between your bodies is enough to send waves of pleasure through you, the feeling consuming your senses.

Dodge breaks the kiss, pulling back just enough to see your face. He takes in the sight of you, hair mussed, eyes glazed over with desire, cheeks flushed with color.

He looks wrecked himself, his breathing labored and his body taut with tension. Every muscle in his body is pulled taught, as if he's holding back from completely letting go.

His grip on your hips tightens, his fingers digging into your skin. He's on the edge, you can tell. But he's still holding back, still trying to control himself.

"I want... I need..." he pants, his words coming out in shuddering gasps. "I need to hear you say it. Tell me I can... tell me you want..."

He trails off, unable to finish his sentence. He's desperate, his need for you almost palpable in the air.

He know’s he’s gotten your permission beforehand, but he needs to be sure.

“Please.” You whine.

Dodge exhales a ragged breath at your response, the sound almost a moan. He leans down, pressing his forehead against yours, his body trembling with need.

"Thank god," he gasps, his voice cracking slightly. "Thank god."

He captures your lips in a desperate kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth hungrily. His hands move from your hips to your thighs, spreading your legs further apart as he positions himself against you.

The friction between your bodies is maddening now, the pleasure building with every movement. Dodge bucks his hips against you, causing you both to moan into the kiss.

He breaks the kiss again, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "You feel so good," he whispers against your skin, his words sending shivers through your body. "So perfect, so goddamn perfect."

His hands roam over your body, touching and caressing every inch of exposed flesh. He's everywhere at once, his touch igniting sparks of pleasure that spread through your body like wildfire.

You almost whine out at the lack of contact to your body as his hands travel to his belt.

Dodge's hands fumble with his jeans, the frantic motion a clear indicator of how desperately he needs you. He pushes the material down, kicking them off the edge of the bed with a hasty movement.

He's bare now, his body exposed and vulnerable in a way he rarely lets himself be. He positions himself back between your legs, bracing himself above you.

He pauses for a moment, taking in the sight of you beneath him. You're flushed and trembling, your eyes glassy with desire. You can see his gaze flickering over your body, taking in every detail, every curve.

He leans down, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. His hands grip your hips again, holding you in place as he rolls his own into you.

The friction between your bodies is enough to drive you both insane. Dodge lets out a guttural moan into the kiss, his grip on your hips tight enough to bruise.

He swears he could come at the sight of this alone, and he honestly might.

A rapid knock to his door stirs him out of his frenzy.

Dodge grunts in surprise, pulled out of his passionate haze by the interruption. He looks up at you, his eyes still dark with desire but confused by the sudden intrusion.

"What?" he asks, his voice slightly hoarse as he called out to his sister in the hallway. "What's wrong?"

“I can’t reach the cereal above the fridge.”

He rolled his eyes, huffing as he pulled your — his, sweatpants over his body.

He raises a finger, as if telling you to wait, and you nod, but you were asleep by the time he finished helping Dana.

[tired-teacher-blog]

The only time Aizawa's face loses that conspicuous look of boredom or intimidating scowl it exclusively parades, is when he's fallen into a deep slumber, and it's a rare view that you make sure to soak up every night before drifting off yourself.

You never get tired of watching him at peace after a long day's work, perfectly relaxed as his chest rises and falls rhythmically while little snores escape him, and the urge to pinch his cheeks and smooch all over that handsome face of his, is a nightly struggle to avoid.

What you do however, is gently poke the smooth skin between his usually furrowed eyebrows, running your finger down along the bridge of his nose and softly pecking his slightly parted lips over and over again until he unknowingly lets out a faint groan against your mouth, and that's when you quickly pull back before he actually wakes up.

He is cute, unbelievably so, and you pride yourself on the many pictures that you've taken of him in secret, over the years while he slept, that and being the only one fortunate enough to see this vulnerable side of him.

_ "I love you.. Shouta.."

You never forget to utter the reminder before allowing yourself to melt into his embrace and fall asleep, even while knowing that he certainly cannot hear you at the moment..

That's how your nights usually go, however, tonight is different, tonight your mind is going a little too wild that you suddenly find yourself dying to see his peaceful expression turn into a twisted and desperate one.

A devilish idea pops up in your brain so you immediately aim for his lower half, working his boxers down his hips until you're staring at his limp penis, and the smirk curving up your lips at the sight of it is one of excitement and confidence in your skills to harden and thicken it up with a mere touch, because that's how well you know his body..

You crawl down a bit further and kneel between his legs before gently taking his cock in your hand and placing a soft peck right on its head.

Your eagerness grows as you feel that familiar little twitch right under your lips, and you can't help but peck him there again before licking a long stripe along the underside of his length until you reach the smooth head again and twirl your tongue over its pinkish surface.

It's working, even in his sleep, he's responding to your teasing in a wonderful manner, his cock is finally coming to life, fully erect and already throbbing.

You move your hand up an down along his length while keeping your eyes on his face, his expression is finally changing just like you've hoped.. his eyebrows are twitching and his jaw is clenched as little groans and whines are rippling through his chest while his body twisted slightly.

You want more, you want him to open his eyes and see what you're doing, you want to relish the surprised look that's bound to appear on his face.

_ "Let's try something else, shall we?" you mumble to yourself in a playful tone before dipping your head to take as much of him as you could, enveloping the thickness in your mouth and swirling your tongue around every protruding vein before sucking on it like a lollipop.

One of your hands move down to fumble with his fat balls, while the other slides past the delicate fabric of your panties to try and soothe your growing need.

_ "Princess.. fuck.. what are you doing?"

He's finally up, a confused look on his face as he observed you for a second, but it's soon replaced with a dark animalistic one that sends a shiver up your spine.

_ "I'm just having some fun by myself." you reply with a smile that soon disappears when you find yourself pinned down beneath him.

_ "You've had your fun.. it's my turn now." and he pushes your legs apart before settling between them, pressing his raging thickness against your thigh, as a show for what's awaiting..

Dividers by : @/cafekitsune

[sturnsdarling]

lowkey following your "ITS 2AM, AND I MISS YOU" fic... but ex!matt who hits up your phone again, drunk or high, pleading to come to your place cos he's so horny and he just needs you. he's literally a rambling mess, not making any sense, but he just has the urge to taste you, he's yearning for it cos thats the only thing that could make him feel better rn... roaring crying screaming pissing everywhere.

'need to taste you'

ex!matt is in his feelings, and they're all directed at you

vibe check: matt the much, face riding, cum eating, smoothtalker!matt, desperate!matt, needy!matt, confident!reader, all the things we love

1.8k words

A/N: i asked for smut reqs and cas said 'bet'. in my head this is separate from my other ex!matt fic because they're somewhere in love so think of this as an alt universe. MATT THE MUCH COME EAT ME

love and cigs, merc

"this is ridiculous, Matt" You huffed down the phone

"come on, baby, please, I miss you" he cooed, desperation thick in his voice.

"you can't call me that anymore" you rolled your eyes, a silent smile forming on your face on the other end of the phone.

"why not? you'll always be my baby" Matt pressed on, his own smile clear in his voice.

"what is the point in all this, Matt?" you said, tired of the back and forth.

You saying his name sent shivers down his spine, "I jus' miss you" Matt shrugged, sighing down the phone.

"you miss me?" you repeated his words with a flat, unimpressed tone

"mhm" Matt said, "I miss all of you, the way you looked at me, the way you say my name, just like you keep doing now"

"Matt..." you said, almost warning him

Matt groaned slightly, a bulge forming in his joggers, "just like that, baby, I love it when you say my name"

"you're unbelievable" you said, rolling your eyes

"and you're unbelievably sexy" he taunted, "I just need you all the time, i've not stopped thinking about you since we broke up"

you couldn't help but smile at his persistence, and you finally gave into that little voice in the back of your head telling you to see how far this could go.

"thinking about me, how?" your tone shifted

Matts heart fluttered in his chest with excitement, "about your eyes, your laugh, your smile, the way you look arched over the bed for me, spread out like the perfect girl you are" Matt said, his voice nearly a whisper

"what else?" you pressed, a pool of wetness gathering in your underwear as he spoke

"this morning, I was thinkin' about that time you gave me head in the bathroom at that family dinner, about how pretty you looked on your knees for me, my cock pressed to the back of your throat" Matt began to palm himself over his joggers, his stiff cock aching for you.

"that was fun" you giggled

"yeah, it was" Matt chucked back, trying to stifle his moans, "I jus' need you here, I feel like I'm goin' crazy without you"

you rolled your eyes, shifting were you sat, "how crazy?" you asked

"insane, baby" Matt said, his words hiding his small whimpers as he palmed himself to the sound of your voice.

"crazy enough to beg?" you said, a menacing feeling washing over you.

Matt chuckled, shaking his head as he swapped hands, pressing his phone to his other ear and pressing his other hand into the stiff bulge in his pants.

"you want me to beg you?" he asked, curiously turned on by your confidence.

"mhm" you hummed, pushing the sound out your throat to mimic a moan.

Matt paused for a moment weighing the pros and cons of giving into you this way, he came to his decision very quick.

"please, baby" he started.

you chuckled, "is that it?"

Matt chuckled, "you're usually the one begging, cut me some slack"

"just try" you pressed.

Matt whimpered slightly, "please, let me see you, pretty girl, I promise I'll make everything up to you, I'll make it right" begging was new to him, but his words were sincere.

"how?" you were grinning like a cheshire cat on the other end of the phone.

"how ever you want me too, baby, I'll do anything you want, I'll be all yours again and you can use me, however you like" Matt continued, the neediness in his voice becoming more and more present. "I just need to taste you, make you feel good, make you moan my name over and over again till you cant remember how to pronounce anything else, please, baby, you're the only thing that'll make me feel better"

Matt was rambling, lost in the feeling of his big hand pressing and tugging at his clothed cock, loving the way it felt to beg you, loving the feeling of giving himself over to you like this.

Your heart was racing in your chest as you fought the urge to touch yourself to his soft words, he sounded so needy, so desperate for you, you loved it.

"just a little more" you whispered, wanting to see how far he'd go to get you back

Matt whined, bucking his hips up into his hand desperately as he chased the friction, "please, princess, you're all I want, please let me show you"

You paused with a sigh, the line going silent for a moment before you spoke, "okay"

"okay?" Matt shot up from his laid position on his bed

"yeah, come see me" you said, a smile on your face at the sound of him so giddy.

"I'm on my way, baby" Matt said, quickly, before hanging up the phone.

you were spread out on your bed, back arched into Matts mouth.

His pace on your clit was feverish, sucking it into his mouth with intense pressure as his long fingers pumped in and out of your soaked pussy. The moans leaving your throat were guttural, coming from a place of pure pleasure as he brought you to mind numbing orgasm again and again.

Matt felt high, high off the taste of you on his tongue as he lapped and sucked at your perfect pussy, drinking you in like a man starved. He was spread out, naked on your bed with his face buried in your heat, rutting his hips desperately into the sheets, chasing the soft friction, feeling as if he could cum just from eating you out.

He pulled his fingers from you, pressing your legs open wider for him as he pushed him tongue inside you, your wetness gathering on his tongue as he moaned at the taste.

"you taste so fuckin' good, princess" He groaned, diving back into your heat.

"Matt" you cried out, gripping onto his hair for leverage as you felt a wave of euphoria wash over you once more.

your whole body was on fire, your legs shaking around his head as Matt's relentless pace on your pussy sent you tumbling down into another orgasm.

Matt moaned into your core, reeling in the taste of your cum pooling in his mouth, he rutted his hips into the bed, unable to control his desperate movements. He licked you lean, pressing his flat tongue to your sensitive pussy, collecting up all your juices on his tongue with a whimper. Your stomach tensed and you flinched at the sensation, so sensitive from his merciless attack on your spent pussy.

Matt reluctantly tore his mouth from you, pressing two gentle fingers to your core before bringing them up to work soft circles on your clit. His mouth was glistening with you cum, eyes pouring into yours as he looked up at you from his position. Your brows furrowed at his touch, wanting to tell him that you couldn't take it but unable to bring yourself to.

"you're so perfect, baby" he cooed, "all of you" he cooed down to your glistening pussy with adoration, pressing a soft kiss to your puffy folds.

"I could cum just from the taste a'you" Matt said just before bringing his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean.

"so do it" you said, a surge of confidence flowing through you as the after shock of your orgasm subsided.

Matt paused, locking his shocked eyes with yours as you grinned at him.

"cum from the taste of me, Matt" you pressed, sitting up as you maintained eye contact with him.

Matt groaned, tensing his jaw as he took a deep, calming breath in.

Within seconds, you were sat on his face, being pulled down into him with one hand as his other pumped his throbbing length.

You were grinding against his face, using his hair as handle bars and pressing your pussy into his tongue relentlessly as he moaned from under you, his sounds muffled by your folds pressing against his lips.

Matt was pumping himself, hard and fast, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the sensation of you riding his face as he fucked his hand. Uncontrollable whimpers left his mouth as he let you use his tongue for your own pleasure, reeling in the sight of you above him as he touched himself over you.

"this what you wanted, Matt?" you cooed, "you wanted me to use you like this? let you prove t'me how sorry you are?" you weren't sure where this confidence was coming from, but you loved it.

Matt nodded, needy eyes pouring into yours as you dragged your pussy across his face. His hips were stuttering into his hand, his pace on his cock never wavering as he desperately chased his high

"so good" you sighed through a small moan, "you always know how to make me feel good, Matt" your grip on his hair softened sightly.

Matt whined into your pussy, the sound sending vibrations up your spine, urging you to grind down harder onto his mouth.

"how could I ever stay angry at you, huh?" you said, trying to sound as confident as possible despite the blissful feeling of Matts tongue pressing into your gummy walls, "I forgive you, Matt"

Matts grip tightened on his cock, fucking into his hand like a jack hammer at the sound of your words, completely lost in the taste of you. With a few final, stuttering thrusts, Matt came all over his stomach, releasing warm cum onto his skin, he sucked your folds, clenching his eyes shut as his whole body tensed beneath you.

He used his oral hold on your pussy as guide through his orgasm, moaning and whimpering into your skin as he lapped and kissed at your core, kissing it like he would your mouth. You smiled down at him, moaning as you rutted your hips against his face slightly, soft hands caressing his hair.

once his breathing had steadied, you rose up and climbed off of him, the lack of friction earning a needy whine from Matt as his hands flew to your body instantly. You chuckled, laying down next to him, placing your leg just below the pool of cum on his stomach.

"i've never seen you like that before" you said, softly as you stared at the white liquid collecting in his belly button.

Matt couldn't take his eyes off you, the taste of you lingering on his tongue.

"I told you, baby, I've been goin' crazy over missin' you" Matt chuckled.

you hummed, shifting slightly so you were perched over his legs, you used your arms to keep you up as you brought your tongue down to his stomach, licking a stripe through the small puddle and collecting his cum on the flat of your tongue with a smile.

Matt groaned at the sight, mouth agape as he watched you swallow his seed with a grin.

"you want me to show you how much I missed you?" you tilted your head to the side

Matt nodded his head rapidly, gathering your hair in his large hand as excitement swelled in his chest.

taglist: @sturniozalt@mattslolita@shaquilles-0atmeal@blahbel668@sleepysturniolo@le4hsblog @sarosfilms @joemamaaa42069 @2muchofaslvt @seluky10 @cherib3lla @jetaimevous @witchofthehour @sofieeeeex @ncm9696 @lovesturni0l0s @pepsicola-pussy @ifwdominicfike @dani-sturn @stupendousjellyfishpost @aesthetixhoe @sturn-rose @mattsnronebitch @chriscorqutte @elizasturn @ribread03 @st7rnioioss @maggieflms

[wilwheaton]

hello mr wil wheaton when you were my age (like exactly i think) you were filming stand by me

I turned 13 during production, so if you're about to become a teenager, I hope you'll let me offer some thoughts that I wish an adult had shared with me, then?

I know this is a wall of text, and giving someone this much of your attention is a HUGE ask. Maybe bookmark this for another time, if you're not into hearing an old man talk.

I wrote this a few days before I turned 50. Thank you in advance for listening, and I wish you a life filled with joy, unconditional love, kindness, and adventure.

Hey everyone! An old man is talking!

In seven days, I will be 50 years-old. This is ... weird. I do not feel the way I expected I would feel when I was approaching 50, nor do any of my friends. The only time I feel like I'm middle-aged is when my body does some bullshit that takes me down for hours because I had the nerve to stand up quickly. And I really hate it when I have to use the flashlight on my phone to see a menu. I mean, at that point, I may as well be dropping my pants for free and singing the Old Gray Mare.

Anyway. This has been on my mind for a little bit, so I had something to say when someone used my tumblr ask me thingy earlier this week:

Q: I hope I'm as cool as you when I'm 49. I'd like to think I'm taking the right steps towards that version of myself. A: So I'm not sure I'm cool, but I do know that I don't suck, and that it's a choice I make every day. I desperately wish someone in my family had told me, or shown me by example, that getting older doesn't mean getting stupid and boring and stuffy and extremely uncool. I wish I'd known that, because I spent all of my life until I was in my 40s feeling like there was this day coming very soon when I would have to stop listening to punk, stop playing video games, put on a suit, and start yelling at kids for no good reason. I didn't know that you don't have to suddenly stop being who you are and become something or someone you hate, just because of a certain age. I know that's super obvious, but to young me, it was not. My dad was an asshole, my mom never showed up for me. Directors and people on set had been treating me like a thing for my entire life. I got yelled at for no reason from adults who knew better almost every day. Most of my elementary school teachers were authoritarian, evangelical assholes. All of these different adults, consistently, shut me down and made me feel like I didn't matter, the things I liked were stupid, and my opinions were invalid because of reasons I didn't understand because I was a dumb kid. So I presumed that when you got to be a certain age, that's what happened. I didn't want to be that, at all, and I was sincerely afraid of the day it would happen. But as I got older, I discovered that all that stuff I hated about adults doesn't automatically happen. Those adults I just mentioned all made a choice to be an asshole. I just didn't know it. I was in my early 20s when I did a movie with a cinematographer who was, I think, 45 at the time. He was the coolest, kindest, most artistic dude I'd ever known. He mentored me and we had epic fun making great art together. I remember telling him, "I'm not afraid of being in my 40s like I used to be. I didn't know you could still be cool." It's sad, that I grew up in such a toxic environment, and didn't know any of these things. So, 9 days before I turn 50, here are a couple things I have figured out: You know who sucks when they hit 49 and 50? People who sucked when they were 20 and never grew up. You know who is an asshole at 49 and 50? Yep. Someone who was an asshole as a kid and never experienced consequences for being an asshole. Hitting middle age has been awesome for me. Other than the aging of my body and its reluctance / refusal to do what I want it to do, I love everything about it. I wish I hadn't spent so much of my life being afraid that, when I hit 50, it was all over. Because honestly it's kind of just starting. The coolest stuff in my life to date has all happened in the last ten years, and I'm so grateful that it coincided with me figuring out a lot of shit so I could enjoy it.

The best part of getting older, by several thousand light years, is the part where we figure out how to stop putting up with other people's bullshit, and we contract our social circle until it's only populated with a VERY few people who deserve us. And I am incredibly grateful for these occasional opportunities to be a 49 year-old dad who can say all the things that would have been reassuring for 19 year-old me to hear (he wouldn't have understood, but 29 year-old me would have remembered, and he would have understood. I think.) I sincerely hope someone hears it and finds it helpful. Anyway, you're gonna be fine. Just remember that being cool, kind, honest, honorable, reliable, listening and showing up … they are all choices. If you want to be cool when you're 49, make the choice and set the example for someone to follow you. Treat kids the way you wanted to be treated when you were young. Listen to them when they offer you the privilege, because that means they trust you, and you have credibility with them. Be a mentor. Be supportive. Show up. Make a choice to be the person you need in the world, and never stop being that person. Start today, and when you're nearing 50 like I am, hopefully you'll remember who you needed right now, so you can be that person to someone else in the future. You're already asking the right questions and taking the first steps. I believe in you. You've got this.

Okay, if you've come this far, perhaps you'll follow me a little bit more, and read a thing I wrote about talking to students just a tiny bit older than you, which contains my core values.

Be honest. I’m a very old man, relative to y’all, and I’ve learned that the only currency that really matters in this world is the truth.

Be honorable. This dovetails with number one. You attract to yourself what you put into the world. Dishonorable people will take everything from you and leave you with nothing. Do your best to be a person they aren’t attracted to.

Work hard. I don’t mean, like, at your crappy minimum wage job you hate. I mean do the hard work that makes relationships work, that gets you ahead in your education, that gets you closer to your goals. Everything worth doing is hard. Everything worth doing requires hard work. Sooner or later, you’re going to run into something in your life that’s really hard, and you’ll want to give up, but it’s something you care so much about, you’ll do whatever you can to achieve it. It’s going to be hard, but it’s going to be less hard for someone who has practiced doing the hard things all along, than it is for someone who doesn’t know how to do the hard work because they’ve always chosen the easy path.

Always do your best. Even if you don’t get the result you wanted, doing your best — which will vary from day to day, moment to moment — is all you can ever do. We tell athletes to leave it all on the field. Whatever your version of that is, do it.

This is the most important one. This is the one I hope you’ll all hear and embrace. This is the one I hope you’ll share with your peers: Always be kind.”

When I read number 5, I looked up at them. I was so happy to see a classroom filled with teenagers who were all listening intently, even the ones I thought had tuned me out. “Here’s the thing about being Kind, versus being Nice,” I said. “I have interacted with lots of nice people who are incredibly unkind. Why is that? How do you choose to be nice but not kind?”

I pointed to my head. “This is where nice comes from,” I said. Then, I put my hand over my heart. “This is where kind comes from.” I put my hands out, like, “get it?”

There was this collective gasp of realization that I did not expect, at all. One kid said “Oh damn!” I saw a few kids look at each other like the trick had just been explained to them. They heard me. They really, really heard me. And it was amazing.

Okay, that's all. If you're still here, thank you for giving me so much of your time and attention. I hope you'll come back in a few years, and let me know how you're doing.

[leclercsainzz]

ILLICIT AFFAIRS PART 2

PAIRINGS: lando norris x gf!reader / tom blyth x fem!reader

TYPE: social media au

WARNING: // cheating implied

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5

yourusername

liked by landonorris, tomblyth and 671,810 others

yourusername: the film is out! ❤️

tagged: @tomblyth

view 5,018 comments

user: seeing it tonight!!!

user: ya’ll see that kiss or??? 👀

oscarpiastri: do i still get those free tickets? 🤔

↳ yourusername: of course!

↳ landonorris: and me?

↳ oscarpiastri: you’re rich, shut up

user: wonder how @landonorris felt seeing his girlfriend kissing another guy like that

user: watched the movie last night and OMG

user: yn, do you prefer buzz cut or long hair on coriolanus?

↳ yourusername: buzz cut all the way!!!!!

↳ user: mother knows what’s up 😌

user: LOVED the movie!!

tomblyth: you’re truly phenomenal! ❤️

↳ yourusername: right back at you, my love ❤️

↳ user: STFU NSPAKSNDBFD

↳ user: @landonorris WHERE U AT, BRO???

user: “love” 😭😭😭😭

↳ user: not just “love” but “MY love” like?? 😭😭

user: watching it tomorrow, cannot wait!

user: her bf is stronger than me bc i would’ve been crying

user: DID YA’LL SEE THE KISS SCENE??? 🫣🫣🫣

↳ user: i was like 😮‍💨

↳ user: he kissed her like she was air 🫠 like the air he needs

user: the way tom’s looking at her in that third slide 😩😩

user: you both killed it, omg!!

↳ user: pov coryo took that personal 🤪

user: SNOW LANDS ON TOP, MF!

↳ user: on top of me, yes!

landonorris: you killed it, pretty girl ❤️

↳ yourusername: 😊

user: the difference between her responds to tom vs lando

↳ user: she’s over here calling tom “my love” while lando just gets some bs of emoji, i CANNOT 💀

user: lando be fighting for his girl’s affection, i swear

user: yn with tom 😩🥰🥰❤️😊😍😌😍😘🥵🥵😍🥰

↳ user: vs yn with lando 😊😊😊😊😊😊😊

↳ user: i feel like she’s definitely in love with tom

↳ user: he’s also in love with her, its so obvious

user: tom NEEDED that kiss in order to breathe, i swear

↳ user: dude he kissed her with so much hunger and desperation had me giggling the whole time

↳ user: convinced that was just tom and yn

user: HAPPY RELEASE DAY YA’LL!!! ❤️❤️🐍

user: you and tom were truly phenomenal as snow and lucy

↳ yourusername: ❤️❤️

landonorris

liked by carlossainz55, yourusername and 698,974 others

landonorris: fun times with MY girl! 😘

tagged: @yourusername

view 5,274 comments

user: he really said, “my girl”

user: is she attending next race??

user: he saw all the yntom shippers so he had to shut them up real quick, honestly as he should!

user: PARENTS ARE BETTER THAN EVER ❤️❤️❤️❤️

user: what about tom? 😭😭 @yourusername

↳ user: girl, bffr

user: idc i’m still shipping yn and tom

user: lando said, “everyone can sit tf down bc she’s my girl”

yourusername: love yaa 😘

↳ landonorris: i love you too ❤️

↳ user: yntom shippers how we feeling??? 😭😭

user: idk why but her comments/replies to lando seem so dry??? like before she’d say the cutest shit ever and now it’s like she just comments bc she has no other choice

↳ user: seems like she’s falling out of love to me

user: @tomblyth GET YOUR GIRL, DONT GIVE UP

user: everyone who is constantly shipping yn and tom need to move on!! she’s literally happy in her relationship with lando

user: are they officially back together??

user: @tomblyth

user: @tomblyth

user: she’s soo beautiful!!! 😍😍

user: lando really said, “if she’s anybody’s girl she’s MINE”

user: ynlando nation rise!!!!!

user: i know she’s clearly happy with lando but her and tom are honestly just the cutest

user: @ everyone who still ships tom and yn

user: not “my” but “MY” 👀

user: he got tired of ppl shipping his girl with someone else

user: mate, you’re stronger than bc the way yn talks about tom is just INSANE! she’s in love with him .. open your eyes

carlossainz55: 🤩🤩

user: the emphasis on the “my” 🤭🤭

oscarpiastri: this is cute or whatever

↳ user: my fav boy

user: wait!! does that mean we will be seeing yn in the paddock again???

↳ user: i hope so!!! 😩😩

user: idk about you all but i feel like her smile/face glows more whenever she’s with tom …….

↳ user: definitely, i agree!

↳ user: that’s bc tom’s her ✨daylight✨

↳ user: shUT uP OMG OMG, YESSS

↳ user: i foUnd my people

user: i missed her, omg ❤️❤️😭😭😭

user: will she be at the next race???

user: i feel like if she’s in love with tom, she should dump him

↳ user: that’s harsh, damn 😭😭

yourusername

liked by landonorris, joshandresrivera and 678,739 others

yourusername: a small bts photo dump:) 💗

tagged: @hunterschafer @tomblyth @joshandresrivera @the.sofia.sanchez

view 6,016 comments

user: hunter’s soo gorggg 😍😍😍

user: “a small bts” but it’s just tom

↳ user: it’s her excuse to post tom 🤣

user: the 6th photo was so unnecessary napaksns

hunterschafer: 😘😘😘😘❤️

user: wovey 🥺

user: yn’s down bad for tom, huh???

user: the chemistry they have on and off the screen is just unbelievably insane, omgg

user: 6th SLIDE??? HELLO??!!? MA’AM??!!?

user: I SHIP I SHIP I SHIP I SHIP

user: lando 💔💔💔💔💔💔

user: her and tom are DEFINITELY more than just friends and ya’ll CANNOT convince me otherwise

↳ yourusername: we’re just friends

↳ user: yeah and i’m jlaw’s daughter, but good try babe

tomblyth: my favorite girl!! ❤️

↳ user: SIR???

↳ user: bitCh what???!? 😳

↳ user: your what????

user: not him calling her his girl, BYE 😭😭😭😭

user: THIS LANDO MF BLIND ASF OMG 😭 iTs cLEAR THAT THERE’S MORE TO THIS WHOLE “friendship” BS

user: tHe 6th slide napaldndnfnc

user: not her posting the lake scene

user: wAit- are they about to kiss in the 6th slide??? bc i don’t remember no kiss in that scene

user: everyone is freaking over the 6th slide but the last one??? HELLO????? the hand on the chin?? 😩😩😩😩

↳ user: i thoUght i was the only one laswowhrbd

user: wovey, my love ❤️❤️❤️

joshandresrivera: love you, loser ❤️

user: their chemistry bro 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

user: its the way he’s looking at her in the last pic

user: tom and yn took their “relationship” to the next level

user: patiently waiting for lando’s comment

↳ user: i don’t think he knows what to comment 😭

user: she looks so much happier with tom, i swear

user: yn, be honest, are you in love with tom??!?

user: nah i feel bad for lando, bro 😭😭😭😭

↳ user: bro is clueless

user: lando losing on and off the track

↳ user: 💀💀💀💀💀

user: i genuinely want to know what type of relationship her and tom have cause???? it’s def more than friendly

user: @landonorris

user: i feel like she’s cheating on lando 😬

↳ user: 100%

user: they weren’t acting in the movie 😭 they were just being themselves, i swear

user: lando is one of the strongest soldiers i know!!!

user: i feel so bad for lando 😕😕😕😕

↳ user: he deserves better (me)

user: if you don’t want lando, i’ll happily take him

user: genuine question are they dating?? tom and yn, that is??

↳ user: no, but they might as well be dating atp

user: ya’ll gotta understand that a male and female can be close friends without having to be involved in a romantic way

↳ user: PREACH!

↳ user: there’s a thing called cheating, yk????

↳ user: with the way these two act there’s definitely more going on than just a friendly relationship

imessage

yourusername

liked by carlossainz55, oscarpiastri and 674,836 others

yourusername: NUMBER ONE?!!?!!?????!!!!!??

view 4,946 comments

user: gagged the hater with this one!!

user: your singing had me captivated

thehungergames: ❤️❤️❤️❤️

user: CORIOLANUS >>

user: you were amazing

user: proud of you!!!

tomblyth: you did that!! 🤩

↳ yourusername: no, babe, WE did that!! 👏🏼

↳ user: “babe” 😭😭😭😭

↳ user: ma’am just say yall together atp

user: well deserved

user: singing was phenomenal, omggg

user: that’s what happens when snow lands on top!! 🤩

📌 pinned

user: number one in the world and in my heart ❤️

user: you and tom were absolutely phenomenal

↳ yourusername: 💗💗💗💗

landonorris: you deserve it!! ❤️

↳ yourusername: ❤️❤️❤️

user: lucy gray is stronger than me bc personally i would’ve sat down with coriolanus and talked it out

↳ user: no bc same!!!! 😩 like i can fix him

↳ user: i would’ve ran away with him, idc

↳ yourusername: babes, are we just forgetting that he’s the reason finnick’s dead???? or the fact that he’s crazy???

user: SNOW LANDS ON WHAT EVERYONE??!!?

user: proud of you, my love!!! ❤️❤️

user: not her holding a grudge against snow for killing finnick she’s so real for that LMAOOOO

↳ tomblyth: 😩😩😩

user: the real question is did snow ever love lucy gray??

↳ yourusername: i like to believe so, yes! but he definitely loved power more:(

↳ tomblyth: lies 😑 (i agree)

↳ user: please 😭😭 he’s so unintentionally funny

user: you guys all deserve it, each one of you was amazing!!

user: my snowbaird heart ❤️❤️

user: best movie this year, i don’t make the rules

songbirdsandsnakes: thanks to our favorite coriolanus snow and lucy gray!!!! 🤩🤩🤩🤩

user: the movie was amazing, well done!!

user: I NEED MORE OF SNOW AND LUCY GRAY 😩😩

↳ user: i think we all do!!!

user: well deserved, pretty girl!!!!

carlossainz55: proud of you, yn! ❤️❤️❤️

↳ yourusername: ❤️ thank you, carlos

↳ user: missing this duo 🥺

user: ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

user: you and tom smashed it

↳ user: they took the “smashing” part too serious 🫢

↳ user: you did not 💀

user: my lucy gray 🤩

user: I NEED A PIC WITH THIS CAST AND THE OG’S

↳ user: yn met jennifer, i believe .. but same!!! 😩😩

user: your singing was phenomenal, babe!!!

user: why’d you leave snow at the end??? 😭😭😭😭

↳ yourusername: cause he’s crazy??????

↳ user: he just wanted to talk tho????!!? 😩 all you had to do was sit and talk with him and apologize to him????

↳ yourusername: so he can kill me after????

↳ user: he would do NO such thing

tomblyth

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 684,830 others

tomblyth: it’s crazy to think tbosas is currently number one at the moment! this was such an unforgettable experience and i’m grateful i got to experience it with @yourusername ❤️

tagged: @yourusername

view 5,101 comments

user: I CANT, OMG

user: THE FIRST POST 😭😭😭

user: lando being in the likes??? 👀

yourusername: wouldn’t have wanted it any other way

yourusername: ❤️❤️❤️

songbirdandsnakes: snowbaird lives with you both ❤️

user: you both deserve it!!!

user: you killed it, mate! ❤️

user: they were both phenomenal, i cannot

user: both were incredible leads

user: it’s hard to tell if they’re just affectionate with each other or there’s simply more

user: if they aren’t dating, i NEED them to date 😭😭

user: they’re in love and nobody can convince me otherwise

↳ user: it’s so obvious

user: amazing leads!!!! 🤩🤩🤩

user: not lando liking 😭😭

user: SNOW LANDS ON TOP

user: you were amazing as snow! 👏🏼

user: does lucy gray haunt your dreams, be honest

↳ tomblyth: always

user: phenomenal actor

user: lucy gray or lucy gray??

↳ tomblyth: mhm .. none, i think i prefer lucy gray

↳ user: AS YOU SHOULD!

user: MY CORIOLANUS SNOW!! ❤️❤️ you were AMAZING

user: ya’ll cannot tell me snow didn’t love lucy bc he did

↳ user: he did love her in his own twisted way but he loved power more:((

user: i watched the move like 4 times already

user: if evil why so hot??

user: you and yn were phenomenal as snow and lucy gray

↳ tomblyth: ❤️ appreciate it, mate

user: why’d you betray my boy sejanus like that? 😭😭

user: LANDO IN THE LIKES 👀

↳ user: hes crying in a corner after seeing the first pic

user: they messed with our feelings 😩😩

↳ user: noo frr cause tell me why i was rooting for them knowing damn well how it would all end up 💔

user: i NEED them together

user: they look so good together 😩

user: you can definitely tell they love each other and not just as “friends”

user: well deserved!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

user: in my world snowbaird ended up together and are living happily ever after

↳ user: same!!!

↳ user: snowbaird and yntom

user: i know she’s dating someone but they look so good together, it’s like they are meant to be

imessage

pt3??

taglist:

@geraltwintersoldier @love4josh @dudde-44 @coconut-dreamz @newlifeforus @loxbbg @dakotali @f1footballluvverr @mountmaason19 @poppyflower-22 @magical-spit @nazm145 @nikolaros22 @sincerlymatakorama @36babyg @bucket-of-fanfiction @gyunheat @dakotali @bucket-of-fanfiction @djoenthusiast @nyraahub @miglielia @aleidag1rly (if your user is purple, it’s bc i couldn’t find you)

[yikes-aemond]

I love you. It's ruining my life. (Part III)

pairing: Benjicot Blackwood x Bracken!fem!reader (no descriptions of reader except that she wears dresses and has long hair)

warnings: 18+, smut, canon typical violence, cursing, drinking  

summary: You and Benjicot Blackwood face the consequences of Benjicot’s decision. 

word count: 4.7k 

author note: I’m having so much fun writing this little series. I’ve decided that there will be four or five parts in total, so look out for the next part soon. Happy reading!

part I can be found here. part II can be found here. part iv can be found here.

You were going to kill Benjicot Blackwood. 

That was the first thought you had after waking in an unfamiliar room with a splitting headache. You could forgive him for knocking you unconscious the first time. But for a second? Absolutely not.

The room you had been left in was uncomfortably warm. The dying fire in the hearth indicated that you had likely been here for hours. Groaning, you pushed yourself up from the bed you had been tucked into. Your dress clung to you like a second skin, and a quick brush of your fingers through your hair revealed knots and tangles. 

Oh yes, you were going to kill that Blackwood heir as soon as you got your hands on him. 

Making your way to the wall of windows on the right side of the room, your stomach sank. Dusk was settling in. You had been gone from Stone Hedge all day, and there no chance your absence had gone unnoticed. Your father would be furious.  

Glancing around the courtyard beneath the windows, you were not entirely shocked to find yourself at Raventree Hall. You had never visited the keep in person, but you had heard tales of the ancient stone walls adorned with climbing moss. From your vantage point, you could just make out the top of the colossal, dead weirwood tree in the godswood. Already ravens were gathering to roost for the night. 

You had to find Benjicot. Had to find him and ask him what in the Seven Hells possessed him to bring you here of all places. A Bracken behind enemy lines. 

You heard the lock at the door unlatch. Unsure if friend or foe approached, you glanced to your left and right but found no weapon. The best you could find was a candleholder. Grabbing it, you pressed yourself against the wall furthest from the door. Raising the makeshift weapon, you readied yourself to throw. 

A tall woman with long, dark hair and an archer’s bow attached to her back entered. When she spotted you, candleholder raised to strike, she lifted her eyebrows and huffed out a laugh.

“Put that thing down before you hurt yourself.” 

There was no doubt in who she could be. 

Alysanne Blackwood. Sister to Lord Samwell Blackwood. Aunt to Benjicot Blackwood. And Black Aly to all those who would dare cross her bow. 

With shaking hands, you returned the candleholder to its proper place. Dipping into a small curtsy, you said, “Lady Blackwood, I am—”

“I know who you are.” Alysanne said, cutting you off. She paused to look at you, eyes glancing up and down, taking in your soiled dress and tangled hair. You tried desperately not to fidget under her scrutiny. 

But then her face broke into a smile. You could see the family resemblance easily enough. Although not nearly as feral, Alysanne’s smile had the same vicious edge as Benjicot’s. “So, you are the Bracken who has stolen my dear nephew’s heart.”

You did not know how to respond. Any thought you might have had left your head under Alysanne’s gaze and her accusation. Seeing the panicked look on your face, she laughed again and gestured to the seats before the fire. “Come now, little Bracken. Sit with me. We women folk have much to discuss.”

You left the comfort of the wall and did as she bid. You had no idea what Alysanne wanted to discuss. Her mood seemed relatively pleasant, all things considered. But the Blackwoods were notorious for their quick tempers and could switch at a moment’s notice. 

Alysanne took the bow off her back, leaning it against the hearth but still within her reach. You tried to calm your racing heart, but your palms were starting to sweat. You did not believe that Alysanne would harm you, at least not physically. But Benjicot’s absence, even if only temporary, set you on high alert. 

You could not help but ask,“Where is Benji—I mean, where is Lord Blackwood?”

Alysanne seemed amused by your question. Leaning back in her chair, she regarded you before answering, “My nephew has been otherwise detained.”

Her tone and mocking smile struck a nerve. You could feel your own temper begin to flare. And you could tell that Alysanne was taking pleasure in your apparent discomfort, watching you try to get a grip on your emotions. You should not have been surprised. Nothing brought a Blackwood more joy than torturing a Bracken. 

You tried for diplomacy. “Lady Blackwood, please—”

“Call me Aly, little Bracken.” She said, waving her hand at your formalities. “I think we need wine for this conversation.” 

What conversation? You were not sure your stomach could handle alcohol, but you were not stupid enough to refuse. 

With a full glass in hand, you watched Alysanne—Aly—take a deep drink. Setting the goblet down, she turned to you, a serious look in her eyes, and asked, “So, tell me, has my nephew fucked you yet?”

You choked on your wine.

Laughing, Aly gave you a thump on the back to help clear your airway. “You know, I’ve never met a Bracken with such delightful expressions.”

Finding your voice, you managed, “I’m happy I could be such a source of entertainment for you.” 

Aly picked up her wine again and smiled. Her gaze softening as she said, “I can see why he likes you.”

You felt your cheeks warm at the praise. You were desperate to know what Benjicot said about you to his family, but you had a feeling that Aly would not betray his confidence. The two might be aunt and nephew, but they were only a handful of years apart in age. Closer to a sister and brother. 

Taking another sip of wine, Aly’s face grew serious once again.“My question may have been crude, but I did not ask it to embarrass you. I need to know before I can advise my brother on how to proceed.” 

You swallowed down the wine that threatened to return back up. “How to proceed?”

Running a hand through her dark curls, Aly took a beat before responding. “Earlier today, a host of Bracken men showed up to Raventree Hall under a white flag and claimed that the Blackwoods had taken Lord Amos Bracken’s only daughter. My brother laughed in their faces and sent them away.” 

Aly took another deep drink of wine before continuing. “Not two hours later, Benjicot turns up with you in his arms, spinning a tale about finding you in the woods out cold, and seeing as how Raventree Hall was closer, decided to bring you here to see our maester.”

Wine forgotten, Aly leveled a hard look at you. “Of course, the maester did not find anything to explain your condition, except for a peculiar bump on the back of your head. If I didn’t know better, the bump looked like it came from the hilt of a sword or dagger. Most curious.”

You could not look at Aly, for you knew that your face would reveal too much. Would reveal that Benjicot lied. 

“And then there are, of course, the injuries on your neck.”

Your hand lifted to touch your neck, almost as if it was detached from the rest of your body. Your throat felt parched as you asked, “Other injuries?”

Aly smirked and leaned closer to you. “Oh yes. You seem to have some bruising on the sides of your neck. Almost looks like bite marks.” 

You felt yourself pale, the wine definitely threatening to make a reappearance. You wanted to sink into your chair, make yourself as small as possible. 

Aly knew that she had you. “So, I ask again, did my nephew fuck you? Did he take advantage—”

“No!” The denial was out of your mouth before you could think. No matter how angry you were with him, you refused to let anyone believe the worst about Benjicot. You would suffer any consequences, go to any lengths, to protect him and his honor. 

Stealing yourself as best you could to hold Aly’s eyes, you vowed, “I remain a maiden.” 

Aly held your gaze for a long moment, searching your eyes for any hint of deception. Waiting to see if you would crack under pressure. Finally, she nodded and let loose a deep sigh. “I did not think Benjicot capable of forcing a woman, but I had to ask. As to whether your maidenhead remains intact, I shall believe you, little Bracken. For now.”

You slumped back into the chair, suddenly exhausted. You felt as if you had just survived a great battle. And maybe you had. Black Aly was almost as notorious as her nephew. To do battle against them, whether by wit or sword, was to take your fate into your own hands.

But the war was not yet won. 

You hesitated to ask but you had to know, “How will you advise Lord Samwell?” 

Aly’s attention had turned to the dying fire, sipping her wine in thought. “Because you remain a maiden, the easy solution is to return you to Stone Hedge at first light before wind gets back to Bracken that you’re here.”

Your heart sank at her words. The moment you returned to Stone Hedge would be the moment you lost what little freedom your father had granted you. No longer would you be allowed to wander the grounds unaccompanied. No longer would you be able to steal away onto Blackwood lands in the hopes of seeing Benjicot. 

Worse still, you were of marriageable age and had been for some time. You were fortunate that your father had not betrothed you as soon as your courses started. But with war on the horizon, you knew your father would not hesitate to betroth you now should the right opportunity present itself.

Sighing again, Aly leaned back in her chair to match your relaxed posture. “But I have a strong feeling that my nephew, in all of his infinite wisdom, will oppose such a plan.” Glancing at you, she said, “He can be quite stubborn when he wants to be.”

You smiled to yourself, picturing the look on Benjicot’s face when he did not immediately get his way. “Yes, he is.”

Without warning, Aly stood up from her chair, causing you to scramble to your feet in response. “I’ll have dinner brought to you soon.” 

Straightening to your full height, spine locked, you asked, “Am I to be a prisoner, Aly?”

You watched Aly quickly mask the look of surprise on her face at your boldness. If you did not know any better, you would say she almost looked impressed. 

Turning her back to you and walking toward the door, she called out, “Not a prisoner yet, little Bracken. But best stay here for your own protection. Not all Blackwoods will treat you as kindly as my nephew.” 

With that, Black Aly opened the door and left. You sank back into your chair when you heard the lock latch close. 

Despite Aly’s assurances, you had never felt more trapped in your life. Dinner had come and gone, and there was still no word from Benjicot. You could feel your frustration and fear rise with each passing hour. 

You wanted to know what was happening. Were the Blackwoods sending word to your father? Were you going to be returned home? Were the Blackwoods going to forbid Benjicot from ever seeing you again? Would a war be fought over this? The Blackwoods and Brackens had fought each other over much less. 

All you could do was sit and think and dwell on the unknowns. You had explored every inch of the chambers, finding no books or papers to keep your mind occupied. Every second you spent in this godsdamn room drove you closer to a breaking point. 

When you heard the lock at the door begin to unlatch again, you sprung into action. You could not be alone in this room for a moment longer. Hiding on the other side of the door, you waited until the person entered your chambers, determined to fight your way out if necessary. 

You did not pause to consider whether this was a wise choice. You had no weapons nor training, but you did not care. You were a Bracken with your back against the wall. And your instinct was telling you to fight. 

So, when the door finally opened and a man entered your chambers, you acted. Leaping onto his back, you let out a scream, punching and kicking and clawing at anything you could get your hands on. The man cursed and tried to get a grip on you, but you squirmed out of his reach. 

Only when you broke skin and felt blood beneath your fingernails did you pause long enough to notice whom you had attacked. Dark, messy hair. A strong, powerful build. A familiar scent. 

Grasping your arms and removing them from his neck, Benjicot Blackwood turned to face you. And even though his face and hands were decorated with blood from your scratches, he looked at you like you were the most wonderful creature in all of Westeros. 

“Have you had your fill yet, my lady?” 

You did not know whether to kiss him or kill him. Perhaps both. And maybe in that order. 

Launching yourself into his arms, you kissed Benjicot with everything you had. His lips were full and warm, molding against yours instantly. With one hand splayed on your back and the other gripping your waist, he pulled you against him, flushing your bodies together until you could not tell where one of you began and the other ended. 

And when you tugged at his hair, he moaned into your mouth, biting your lip in retaliation. His bite was not hard enough to draw blood, but you felt your core tighten in response. You whimpered, deepening the kiss as you slid your tongue against his. But when he moved his hand to your breast, gliding his touch over your pebbled nipple, you pulled back. 

Panting heavily, you detached yourself from his arms and put space in between you. Benjicot’s cheeks were flushed and his breathing was as uneven as yours. You could see a question begin to form in his gaze, but he does not ask it, waiting instead for you to proceed. 

As soon as you got your breathing under control, you said, “We need to talk."

Benjicot nodded in agreement, moving to the chairs that you and Aly had occupied earlier. “I had a feeling you were going to say that.” 

When you settled across from him, you could feel the tension returning to your body. You did not know where the two of you stood, not really. You had shared kisses and pleasure, spoken words of love and devotion, but Benjicot had left you alone and in the dark—literally and metaphorically. You did not know what conversations had taken place or decisions made while you were confined to these chambers. And that thought—that he had not cared enough to even leave note—was enough to have your anger returning in full force. 

“What in the Seven Hells were you thinking bringing me here?” You snapped. 

Benjicot raised a brow at your harsh words, but responded evenly, “I recognized the voices we heard in the woods as Blackwood men. There was no explanation we could provide to them that would make sense and preserve your honor. Better for them to believe that I happened upon an unconscious, injured Bracken.” 

“Did you have to knock me unconscious? I could have pretended to have sprained my ankle!”

Shooting you a look of disbelief, Benjicot said, not unkindly, “My lady, you are many things. But a good liar is not one of them.”

You were going to strangle him. 

Benjicot smirked at your expression. “I love when you get that violent look on your face.” 

Rolling your eyes, you scoffed at his declaration. And when you did not otherwise respond, Benjicot relented, expression growing serious. “I did not mean to leave you alone all day. When we returned, and I found out that your father was looking for you, I had to explain everything to my father and aunt.”

You shot him a look of horror. “Everything?”

Now it was Benjicot’s turn to roll his eyes. “Yes, my lady, I told them everything. Told them how warm and wet your cunt felt against my—”

“Benjicot Blackwood!” You shrieked, shoving into his chest. “Have you lost your mind?”

He could not help but laugh. “If I have lost my mind, it is only because you occupy all my thoughts.” 

You felt a sliver of your anger melt away at his sweet words. “Fine, I am a terrible liar. That still does not explain why you decided to bring me here. You could have returned me to Stone Hedge.”

Benjicot’s expression, which had been light and open, shuddered closed. You watched him get a far off look on his face. You tried to catch his eyes, but he avoided your gaze. “Do you wish for that? To return to Stone Hedge?”

Your heart squeezed at his questions. For you knew that if you said yes, he would return you to your home. He may be Bloody Ben to the world, ruthless fighter who took no prisoners, but to you, he was kind and loving and protective. He would respect your wishes, even if that meant being away from him. 

Grabbing his hand, you traced his fingers, lingering your touch over the marks you had left behind. “I wish to be wherever you are.”

Benjicot took your hand in his, pulled you up from your chair, and settled you on his lap. Your face warmed at the intimacy, but you relaxed in his arms. Leaning your head against his chest, you let a feeling of peace wash over you, even if only for the moment.

You did not know how long the two of you sat in silence, content to just hold one another. But you knew that you could not stay like this forever. There were too many words left unspoken. Too many decisions to be made. 

Benjicot broke the silence first. “I brought you to Stone Hedge because I never wish to part from you. The thought of leaving you on Bracken land again gutted me.” He paused, throat working as he tried to gather his thoughts. Closing his eyes, Benjicot looked like he was bracing himself. “I knew that if I brought you here, brought you to my father and Aly, we could force the issue of us being together.”

Pulling away from his chest, you adjusted your legs to straddle his thighs. Benjicot’s hands gripped your waist to steady you. You clasped his face in your hands, demanding his gaze on yours. “We should have made that decision together. This is my life too, my future. I refuse to be under your thumb, Blackwood.” 

Lowering your face to his, you whispered against his mouth, “If you ever do something like that again, I will end you.” 

You did not know who kissed whom. But it did not matter. Benjicot’s mouth was on yours, devouring and claiming. Lifting you into his arms, and without breaking the kiss, he moved the two of you from the chairs to the bed. 

Your back hit the pillows. When you did not feel Benjicot’s weight on you, you opened your eyes to see him at the foot of the bed. Watching you. The look in eyes was pure hunger. His entire being seemed focused on you. On your body. The rise and fall of your breasts. The clenching of your thighs. 

“Benjicot.” There was a note of pleading in your voice.

His name on your lips broke whatever spell he was under. His lips returned to yours as if he were starving for your kiss. 

You spread your legs for him, letting his body fall into the cradle of your thighs. You flushed at the hardness you felt against your core. And when he drove his hips into yours, pressing that hardness against you, you moaned, legs trembling as you felt yourself grow wetter and wetter. 

Benjicot moved his kiss from your mouth down to your neck, biting and licking and marking for all the world to see. He wanted to brand you. Wanted everyone to know that you belonged to him. That you were his and he was yours.

He slid one hand up your leg, bringing your dress with him until it pooled at your waist, revealing your lower half to him, with only your small clothes in between.

You could not stop your hips from bucking when he dragged his hand over your covered cunt. You had never felt anything like this before. Your attempts at pleasuring yourself were nothing compared to what Benjicot did to you. You felt warm and achy and empty and completely out of control.  

“Will you let me see more of you, my lady?” Benjicot asked, not taking his eyes away from where his hand touched your heat. 

You were on a precipice. There was no turning back from this. No turning back from whatever ruin lay ahead of you. 

Letting out a breath, you whispered, “Yes.” 

No sooner had the word left your mouth were your small clothes ripped from your body. You did not have even a moment to protest, for the second your cunt was exposed to the air, Benjicot was bringing his hand between your folds. 

“Fuck.” Benjicot groaned. Slipping one finger into you, he pressed the heel of his hand against your clit. “You’re so wet, my lady.”

You whined at his words and the feeling of his hand working you. With every touch and circle of his fingers, you felt yourself growing closer and closer to that release you craved. 

But release evaded you. You rocked yourself against Benjicot’s hand, trying to force his movements to switch from slow and careful to forceful and demanding. 

“Benjicot, please—” 

“Please what, my lady?” His voice teasing, as he began to slow his movements. 

You groaned in frustration. You did not have the words. Did not know what to ask for. “I need something.” 

Benjicot stopped moving his hand entirely, and you could have cried. And when he removed his hand completely, you considered killing him all over again. 

“I swear on the old gods and the new—”

The look Benjicot shot you silenced the curse on your tongue. “No gods will hear you here, my lady.”

Glaring at him, you asked, “Do you wish for me to beg, Blackwood?” 

Benjicot hummed at the question. “A Bracken begging for a Blackwood to bring her pleasure? That does hold some appeal.” 

Before you could respond, Benjicot slid down your body, bracing both hands on your thighs to keep you open and spread wide. Your stomach clenched, as he brought his face to hover over your slick cunt. 

Benjicot glanced back up at you, waiting for a signal that you understood what he intended. Your breaths were uneven and rapid. The thought of his mouth on the most intimate part of you was beyond your comprehension. 

And when you nodded, Benjicot gave you that feral, wicked smile. The one that never failed to make your heart thud against your chest. He lowered his head, until all you could see was his dark, messy hair between your thighs. 

The first drag of his tongue against your center fractured your world. You felt undone and made whole again. You thought your heard Benjicot curse against your wetness, but you were too far lost in pleasure to be sure. 

He licked and licked and licked. Each swipe of his tongue brought a moan to your lips. He lingered on your clit, sucking and nipping until it was almost too much. You arched against him, unable to stop yourself from moving your hips against his face.  

Benjicot pressed a hand to your stomach, stilling you, as he slid his tongue straight into your cunt. You could not think, could not do anything except submit to the feelings he brought out in you. 

“You taste,” Benjicot moaned against you, “even better than I imagined, my lady.” 

You were sure you were crying. At the sight of your tears, Benjicot laughed and sunk two fingers into you, dragging another moan from the depths of your throat. 

Release was almost in your reach, just beyond your grasp. “Please, please, please.” You chanted, shaking your head back and forth against the pillow. 

Benjicot drove his fingers deeper and deeper, working his teeth and tongue against you, and with one final flick of his tongue to your clit, your back bowed off the bed, your release crashing into you. 

Even when you clenched down on his fingers and pulled at his hair, Benjicot did not stop moving against you. Fingers pumping. Tongue and lips feasting. He devoured whatever pleasure you gifted him. Only when you collapsed back onto the bed, gasping for air and reeling at the aftershocks, did he finally stop.

Your mind and body existed on different planes. You were not even sure you remembered your own name, so thoroughly had Benjicot upended your world. 

As you tried to put yourself back together, you noticed Benjicot adjusting himself in his breaches. You had never seen a cock before. But suddenly you found yourself desperate to see his. 

Sitting up, you placed your hand atop his, staying his movements. Benjicot glanced at you sharply, his breath catching in his throat. 

You met his stare. You did not know what you were doing. All you knew was that you wanted to give him even a fracture of the pleasure he had given you. 

Swallowing your insecurities, you asked, “Will you show me what to do?”

For once, Benjicot seemed to be at a loss for words. But he helped you undo the laces and unfasten his breaches. The muscles in his thighs shifted as he pulled himself free. 

Benjicot’s cock was enormous. Although you had nothing to compare it to, you were sure he had to be on the larger side. Enormous and hard and leaking from the slit at the top. Your mouth felt parched at the sight. 

You looked up at Benjicot, only to find his eyes focused wholly on you and your reaction. You did not want to disappoint him. 

“How do I please you, my lord?” Benjicot groaned at your words, taking himself in hand. Up and down, he stroked his length with a force that surprised you. 

Benjicot watched as your eyes widened at his actions. Watched the way you licked your lips. Watched the way you rubbed your thighs together. You enjoyed seeing him this way. 

“Have you ever touched a cock, my lady?” He knew the answer but wanted your confirmation. 

Shaking your head, you reached out to run your finger over the leaking slit. Benjicot grabbed your and placed it on his cock, trembling when you wrapped your hand around his length. 

And what a feeling that was. The ruthless, cruel Bloody Ben trembling from the pleasure you gave him. The idea of him being wholly at your mercy was intoxicating. 

Your own hand shook a little as you stroked him. The skin was softer than you had imagined, but he felt hard as steel beneath. You felt him shudder against you as you worked your hand up and down. 

“That’s it, my lady.” Benjicot murmured, lost in the feeling of your hand against him. “Just a little harder. You won’t break me.” You followed Benjicot’s direction, squeezing his cock and pumping as fast as you had seen him do before. 

And when he felt your nails graze the sensitive underside of his cock, he arched off the bed, chest heaving.

“You handle my cock so well.” You flushed at the praise, your own breaths coming out quicker and quicker the more you touched and explored. 

With one final hard twist, Benjicot exploded in your hand, moaning your name as he came. 

How many times had he imagined this? How many times had he thought of you while touching himself? And now you were here, in his home, and he never wanted you to leave. 

Benjicot surged forward, kissing you with all of his pent up feelings. He refused to live without you. Refused to give you up because of an ancient feud and a looming war. 

So, even though you were both half dressed, slick with sweat and spit and gods know what else, Benjicot asked, “My lady, would you do me the honor of marrying me? Tonight?” 

final author note: I hope you liked it! I think I updated my taglist to reflect everyone who asked to be added, but please let me know if I missed you or if you would like to be added for future updates.

taglist:

@painted-flag @majoso12

@strollthroughstars29 @a-whiterose

@rebeccawinters @alifeinspiredd

@klutzylaena @poppyflower-22

@iliterallyhavenoideawhattowrite @justannadahfanfictor

@aaaaslaaaan @hobis-hope95

@username199945 @daddyslittlevillain

@flusteredmoonn @nixtape-foryou @prettykinkysoul

[calliopesdiary]

10 Things I HATE About: You.

summary: James is starting to get desperate when Lily continues to reject his attempts to date her, as she reveals she's not allowed to date until her completely opposite twin sister does. which seems highly unlikely, (thats why its such a good rule). so James comes up with a grand plan to get Sirius to date her, what could go wrong?

(literally just the story of 10tihay)

wc: 1,585

pairings: evans!slytherin!reader (jeezus thats a mouthful) x sirius black

tropes: grumpy x sunshine, because of a bet

contents: angst? (if that's what we call it) to comfort, happy ending, james doesn't think before he does something, mulciber is sexist (but what’s new)

a/n: this will come in two maybe three parts so stay tuned!

Pt.1-?

TO PUT THINGS LIGHTLY: you didn't give a damn about your bad reputation.

Lily on the other hand? did, very much so.

Which is one key reason she didn't appreciate James Potter chasing her around like a lost puppy dog 24/7 365.

Yet she was (unfortunately) falling for James, but couldn't do anything about it since she was forbidden to date by her father until you did, her twin sister.

you guys were insanely different, like night and day.

Lily was a goody-two-shoes, good grades, kept her mouth shut, a clean record.

You on the other hand- while you had also good grades, your record was not clean.

but between having shouting matches with Lucius and Severus about their sexist tendencies or muggleborn rights:

you'd been in detention quite a few times.

but people always seemed to think you were a scary, bitch of a slytherin.

but it's not like many of the slytherin's liked you always, you were a muggleborn after all.

not to mention; relationships made you want to hurl.

and Lily detested you for that.

"Can't you just be a normal person with normal person interests for once!?"

"now, where's the fun in that?" You reasoned from your spot on the library's couch.

"Y/n, Please? You know I like him." Lily begged, her bottom lip jutted out in a stupid pout.

"And? You shouldn't, Lils. He's actually daft." She groaned irritatingly.

"Where are you from? Planet Loser?"

"As apposed to Planet 'Look At Me, Look At Me!'"

"Sirius, Sirius- Please!" James pleaded from his position below Sirius, up on top his knees.

"James, you are quite literally asking me to do the impossible."

"Sirius- She can't date, until Y/N does... and- and you, you my handsome friend- can date her- so I can date Lily!"

James had his hands holding desperately onto Sirius'.

"500 Galleons." Sirius ripped his hands away from James, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Deal."

They shook on it.

You found it quite odd, how it seemed like you were being stalked all of the time.

You were at quidditch practice when a boy with medium length, raven hair came up to you.

you knew exactly who this was.

"Hi, love." he took your sweaty hand and placed a soft kiss on the back of it.

"Sirius, Sirius Black." he flashed that 'Sirius Black Grin'.

"I'm well aware." You smiled begrudgingly.

"You don't seem incredibly happy to see me, Evans." He just kept on grinning, grinning like he won the Quidditch World Cup or something.

"I'm not, Black. Please leave me alone." You gathered up your things quickly, wanting to get out of his sight.

Sirius seemed a bit put down, nobody had ever been this insistent to get away from him.

usually girls would through themselves at him.

not you though.

he liked that.

very much so.

He cleared his throat. "So, Friday then?"

you stopped walking, turning your head back to him.

"Friday? what about Friday?" You scoffed.

"I'll pick you up on Friday to go on a date."

Damn, that was smooth, even you had to admit it.

"No thank you." you weren't sure what emotion to feel at that moment- embarrassment, annoyance, irritation.

but so far, his plan wasn't working.

but it will.

you had walked off long before he left the pitch, before returning to James in the courtyard.

He slumped against a tree, sighing with annoyance.

"We're screwed." He groaned pessimistically.

"Come on, Pads. Be a bit optimistic."

"We're screwed!" He cheered sarcastically.

The days following were odd, and more annoying then usual.

Sirius Black wouldn’t cease following you around.

Slytherin had a Quidditch Game that day, and you really couldn’t stand Mulciber and Avery’s constant berating of the fact a girl was Slytherins seeker.

“You know— Mulciber, L/N is actually one of the best seekers we’ve had at Hogwarts in years.” Sirius explained proudly.

“but it seems that you can’t wrap your utterly sexist brain around that.” He cooed, Mulciber turned as red as lava.

“She’s only there for eye candy, Black. you understand she’s a filthy mud blood, right?” Mulciber barked, Sirius then wondered; with all this barking he’s doing, maybe he’d like me to throw a stick?

“and what has that got to do with absolutely anything?”

“come on, Black. don’t act like you are this muggles rights activist, you’re a Black.”

Sirius hated being reminded of that fact, he had ran away over a year ago.

“and— besides, L/n is only on the Quidditch Team because she has good tits.”

Sirius clenched his fists, before he shot towards Mulciber in an angry rage.

only he was allowed to say you had good tits.

the punches flew as Avery stood at his spot by the wall, his face not having any color what so ever. he looked like he had seen a ghost.

obviously, all good things must come to an end. as McGonagall stormed out of her office to take points away from both houses, and to instruct Avery to take Mulciber to the hospital wing and then to Detention along with Sirius.

in Sirius’ book, it was worth it.

“he got detention? for you?” Dorcas repeated for about the seventh time in the past three minutes.

“Yes, Dorcas.” You were disgusted by what Mulciber had said about you.

“come on, sugar. everyone here knows you have lovely tits.” Barty mentioned from his place shoved (lovingly) into Evan’s armpit while gnawing on his bicep.

“okay— yeah, whatever. but i certainly don’t need to hear about it from Mulciber and his pet rat.”

You bid farewell to your friends before returning to your dorm.

and you couldn’t wait to plop down on your bed and watch a movie, that was your ideal thursday night.

until something was in the way, and by something i mean a giant bouquet of flowers and by in the way i mean they were right smack in front of your door.

“You have to be fucking kidding me.”

you held a tiny note in your hand, having plucked it from the flowers seconds earlier.

“Dear Y/n.”

“don’t listen to Mulciber, he’s harmless. (and jealous that you actually made the quidditch team.) i siriusly (haha, get it?) want to take you out on the finest of dates tomorrow night, would you please accept?”

(: -sirius b. ps. you looked very nice today.

a smile cracked from your lips, before shaking it off and picking the flowers up off the floor.

a date? with you?

why would he want a date with you? where was this obsession coming from?

you supposed you could do it as an act of public service, (to yourself that is) since it would probably not be enjoyable enough for the both of you.

and he did just beat someone up for you.

so why not indulge in him for an evening?

Friday Night had rolled around and you were nervous, he’d only been talking to you since monday and you weren’t sure if you shared the feelings.

but after that night, everything changed.

Sirius was sweet, lovable, and overall not how he seemed.

On the outside, you perceived him as this immature, prankster of a boy who hadn’t gotten enough attention as a child so he felt the need to beg for it everywhere he went.

but on the inside? he was soft, kind, and on top of that he was a gentlemen (which was very unexpected).

“I’m sorry.” you noted.

“sorry for what, dollface?” he chuckled.

“I misjudged you.” Sirius’ brain clogged with worry.

“how did you perceive me before?”

“well— i thought you were immature.” you began, not easing his worries one bit.

“and… i thought this was all a big prank.”

“it’s not.” he quickly answered, but it was, he was lying.

it wasn’t a prank per say, but it was a bet.

which may have been worse.

"Pads!" James yelped, sprinting towards him once he came back from your date.

"Prongs." Sirius greeted him cordially.

"So? How'd it go?" He sat down like he was the best friend character in a 2000s movie hearing about the main characters date with her crush.

"Good, She seems like a nice person."

"Pads, you seem all down in the dumps." James frowned, wrapping an arm casually around his best friend's shoulders.

"What's got your mind going?" Remus did the same as the former, leaning onto him gently.

"well- I'm not sure about this, I may be a bastard but I don't want to hurt her. She thinks I'm being serious."

The worst part about this was: that Sirius was already feeling serious about it, as Serious as Sirius could be.

Seriouser then he's ever Sirius'd.

but you didn't deserve this.

and boy, did he feel shit about it.

[r0se1111]

actually getting a physical reaction to reading your reader x ford fics so here's an idea i had, do with it what you want :) reader works at the shack and is close friends with stan (i just know that man flirts with everyone, including reader). when they meet ford, they immediately develop a massive crush, cause who wouldn't but ford reads the friendship they have with stan wrong and thinks he doesn't have a chance and gets jealous of their banter/flirting… brb twirling my hair

Your mind... thank you <3

Working at the Mystery Shack really isn't all that bad. You had quickly formed a friendship with the owner, an eccentric conman named Stan. Sure, the pay isn't the best and sure, Stan flirts with you an almost obnoxious amount, but you would be remiss to say you didn't find comfort and even joy in this little situation. Is it a bit pathetic to say your boss is your best friend? Maybe, but Stan's jokes meet your own sarcastic quips with perfect compatibility. So much so that quite a few people have assumed the two of you were an item. Normally this conclusion wouldn't bother you, after all you guys are pretty comfortable with each other. And it keeps any creepy tourists from hitting on you when Stan's arm makes its way around your shoulder and a fond "toots" leaves his lips.

Normally, this wouldn't bother you. But things haven't been... normal as of late. Stan, as it turns out, has a twin brother. Now, you have always been able to admit that Stan was attractive in his own rugged, girdle-wearing way. But this Ford guy? Tussled hair, broad shoulders hidden under layers of sweaters, and an achingly cute smile? Sorry Stan you try not to gape as Ford introduces himself to you, this guy is more my type.

Now the banter you normally find yourself looking to with Stan feels a bit awkward as you're painfully aware of his brother's presence. You so desperately want to yell at him "Hey! I'm actually super single and super not dating your brother and super into you!" But, being the mature (ish) adult you are, you choose to forgo the dramatic love confession and instead focus your efforts on evading Stan's ever-present touching and joking.

You squint critically at the sale tags Stan has instructed you to place on some old t-shirts in the gift shop. "Take 90% off? Geez Stan, why don't we just let them take 100% off, the poor tourists are paying too much for this place anyways."

"I can tell you what I do wanna take 100% off, and it's not the price of those shirts." Stan grins widely and his hip jostles you a few times. "Get it? It's- it's your shirt. That I wanna take 100% off."

You scoffed and hid your grin as you shoved away his nudges. You were about to retort with your own witty remark when you turned and came face to face with Ford. His face was flushed, and his widened eyes darted between you and Stan before zeroing in on where Stan had begun to tug at the hem of your shirt playfully. You stuttered and slapped your friend's teasing fingers from your clothing.

"Ford!" You could feel warmth seeping up your collar and onto your cheeks. God. Did he hear all of that?

"Y/N. Stan." He blinked at you both and you noticed his hands clench at his sides. "I see I've interrupted something... I should go."

Panic wells in your stomach and quickly floods into your throat, making you nearly mute as you flounder for something to say. Luckily, Stan speaks up before you could choke out some half-assed excuse as to why he should stay.

"Awh c'mon, you're missing all the fun. See how red she gets?" He curls his arm around your shoulder to reach around and poke your cheek in a familiar gesture for you two. This was your routine: banter, tease, someone gets flustered (normally you), tease about said flustering, and so on. How fun! However, any possible fun is overshadowed as you feel painfully aware of his this must look to the man standing in front of you.

Ford looks almost... hurt? Disappointed? Before that mystery emotion flashes into something much more defensive as he silently watches your exchange.

You grit your teeth and eye your friend. "Stan."

"What's the matter toots? Don't say I hurt your feelings." He tilts his head to look at you in faux-pleading. "Oh c'mon baby I really didn't mean to!" Stan's dramatic little performance is completed with a bat of his eyelashes and a pout of his lip that makes you audibly groan.

"Listen, I-"

"Well I should really-"

You and Ford interrupt each other in your attempts to escape this awkward situation. Finally, after one last glance at where Stan's arm has pressed into you, Ford gave a little tight smile and walked past you.

One he's out of earshot, you nearly flip Stan over in an attempt to dislodge yourself from him. "What the hell was that?"

The man blinks before quirking a crooked, unsure smile at you. "What? I can't mess around with my best pal?"

"Not in front of him!"

"Him?"

"Ford! Your brother!" You throw your hands up in an explosion of frustration before they meet pressed to your temples as you grumble.

Stan seems to be catching up with your crisis, although he still looks at you like you're a crazy person. "My brother. Ford." He stares at you for a moment before you see the wild mischief enter his eyes.

"Don't."

"You wanna bone old poindexter! You perv!" He cackles and elbows you with a wiggle of his eyebrows. "You gonna be my sister-in-law?"

You nearly trip over your own feet in an attempt to shut him up. He's my best friend. You remind yourself. People don't strangle their best friends. "Don't be so crude! Yes, I like him. But he probably thinks we're together!"

Stan's laughter cuts off as he all but wrinkles his nose at your words. "Why would he think that?"

Overwhelmed with your friend's obliviousness to his own nature, you sigh before walking past him with a pat to the shoulder that means we'll talk later. Right now you have a devastatingly handsome author to explain yourself to.

Luckily, Ford hadn't wandered too far after his self-imposed removal from the gift shop. He sat on the steps of the front porch, legs outstretched as he watched the sky as if he was deep in thought. You notice his hand gripping the splintered edge of the stair as you lower yourself to sit by his side.

"... sorry about that." You spread your fingers over your propped up knees in a placating gesture. "Stan can be... like that sometimes."

Ford had tucked his own knees up to balance his elbows on at your arrival, and his breath had hitched at your voice. He watched you with a sort of calm understanding, but something deeper and more intense seemed to simmer beneath the surface. "Ah well. The things we put up with for love, right?"

You nod, grateful for his understanding. Then the word he used hit you. Love. Love. It didn't even register what Ford meant at first, because of course you love Stanley. He's your best friend, and it's just a fact of life that you love him, and that he loves bugging the hell out of you. But you aren't sure Ford knows that you love him, but aren't in love with him.

You clear your throat and turn your next words around in your mouth a bit, tasting them before you carefully explain to Ford, "Right. I mean, Stan is like a brother to me. We're best friends. And normally his flirting act is pretty damn funny, but there are times when it can complicate things." You inhale and stretch your legs out as Ford had been doing when you came to see him. Opening yourself to him. "Like when there's a guy I'm into and I don't want him to think that I'm not totally single. And totally into him."

Glancing at Ford from the corner of your eye, you see he's staring at his intertwined fingers which had frozen in the midst of their fiddling. His expression reminded you of when you'd walk in on him working on some complicated passage of his journal, or figuring out what word would fit in the crossword puzzles that come in the Sunday morning papers he still gets. Like there's a problem in front of him, and he's trying to fix it.

His eyes light up and he turns to meet your stare. Eureka. "So- not Stan?"

"Not Stan."

"Then... who?"

Now it's your turn to stare at your hands. In your very best nonchalant, I'm-totally-chill-about-this voice, you reply, "You."

A quick exhale that makes you wonder if he'd been holding his breath, and Ford chuckles. Really, it's more like a giggle, but let's try not to embarrass the poor guy. He lets his knees drop down and he mirrors you in the open stretch of your legs. "It's you for me too."

It feels like little cartoon birds are pulling the edges of your mouth into a smile as raw, dreamy elation sparkles up your spine, colors your cheeks pink, and draws loop-de-loops in your chest.

You look at Ford and he's already watching you. That spark catches again like he's the one holding the lighter. The bubbling storm of his eyes had cleared to a beautiful sunny day, and the sun reflecting off of his cracked glasses combined with his smile almost blind you. You decide to test these clear waters. Scooting over a little, you place a hand on the porch between your two bodies.

You watch him inch his hand towards yours until your pinkies are overlapped. You would've thought the two of you had just kissed for hours with how out of breath you feel. You open your mouth to say something probably very suave and charming when a familiar trio of voices interrupts.

"O-M-G! Y/N and Great Uncle Ford? All my dreams have come true!"

"HA! So you DO wanna bone him! I called it!"

"I don't even want to know what that means..."

Turning over your shoulder you smile coyly at Mable, Stan, and Dipper, who for all their teasing and overlapping rambling, seemed over the moon about the newly confessed feelings between you and Ford.

Stan squeezed his way between the two of you, slinging an arm around each of your shoulders. "Guess this means you gotta stop flirting with me on the job, Y/N. I know, it's gonna be so hard but I believe in you." He nodded solemnly in your direction before turning to his brother and jostling him up to his shoulder. "And you! You dog, I can't believe you had it in you! Us Pines men are just too irresistible I guess."

The family breaks into their signature "Pines! Pines! Pines!" chant in celebration of Stan's sage advice and Ford's "success in the lady department" as Mabel had put it. And as you were sandwiched between your best friend, your dream guy, and the two coolest kids on earth, you laughed and joined in.

"Pines! Pines! Pines!"

[agendabymooner]

SOMETHING HAZY !!! CARLOS S. X FEM!READER (18+)

summary: carlos wanted his wife to let it all out. that’s all.

content warning: smut under the cut (minors dni!), not proofread, use of explicit language, established relationship (married), soft dom!carlos, unprotected sex (pls use protection), creampie, sex as emotional outlet, dacryphilia, reader being in subspace, ion know what i wrote it’s just smut, consider this my fever dream (i have a fever)

recommended song: american by lana del rey (i kinda based it off the vibes of the song)

note: y’all should check out something devoured bc there’s not much jenson button love out there 🤭 this was also an idea i brought up to a moot (@daaiissyyyyy) because we had too much fun recommending songs back and forth enjoy xx

something sinful (smut) masterlist

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

the spaniard didn’t usually come home earlier than his wife. his flights back to madrid were usually longer and she worked nearby. so it wasn’t everyday he got to go home and relax in front of the television while he patiently waited for her to get back from her office shift. 

what he didn’t expect, however, was the expression on her face when her eyes lit up for a brief moment at the sight of carlos.

it was as if she felt numbness in her system, telling him about her work and how much her boss frustrated her after working for hours on a project she’s dedicated herself to. 

it was one of those things that carlos had heard through the nightly facetime call with her. she spoke enthusiastically about her project while she cooked dinner for herself, to which she’d ask about his media duties and how it went for him after.

it wasn’t anything that carlos didn’t welcome; he loved her so much that her enthusiasm and cheeriness were nothing but a part of his everyday life. 

so to see her like this— less than optimistic and happy without the verge of crying (which she usually did over the little things), it didn’t sit right with him. 

“cariño,” he murmured, stopping her from moving around the kitchen as he pulled her closer to him. pinning her against the counter, she took a deep breath as he asked, “i’m here now. what do you want?” 

“i- i-“ she stammered, “i’m okay, carlos.”

“no, you’re not, bebe,” carlos mumbled, kissing her neck before his head moved up and his mouth nibbled at her ear. “i’ve been married to you for years. i know when you’re not okay.” 

his breath fanned her skin as he said, “tell me what you want, mi vida. ‘m here for you.” 

“i-“ she took a deep breath and murmured, “i just want to let it all out and cry, carlos and i can’t do it.” 

out of desperation, she turned around and faced him with a wobbling smile. “i want you to fuck me ‘til i’m crying and- make it all go away, carlos. please.” 

with a sweet smile, he tipped her head back and softly kissed her. 

“anything to help you out, cariño. let’s get you out of these clothes, hm?” 

it was like she was being split into half. 

his cock, its girth and length, was no contest to her cunt. carlos could still remember the first time her eyes landed on it as if she was wondering how it would fit into her. 

carlos loved the way her eyes would roll back when he managed to fit in snugly, fucking her while being pleased by the way her legs trembled and shook as he continued pounding into her. 

but right now, it was all about her. all she wanted was to have an outlet for her emotions. that’s what she was getting. 

he watched the way tears fell down her temple as he smiled gently. his smile differed from his actions, thrusting until he completely bottomed out of her and rolling her nipples between his thumbs and index fingers, eliciting a whiny moan from her as she incoherently spoke. 

she felt like she was being split into half, yet she wanted him to break her fully. 

“‘los, wan’ more,” she whimpered, her eyes shut tight as she whined.

“i know you do, mi vida,” carlos murmured, pounding hard as her toes curled and her heels dug into his hips. “so eager for me.”

“fuck, carlos, please~” she opened her eyes for a moment. carlos saw nothing but haze in her eyes, her thoughts were already driven away from the insanity of her reality at work. 

good, carlos thought. all he wanted was to distract her from the stress. 

“you look so pretty, mi corazon,” he mumbled, his fingers pulling away from her tits to wipe her tears away. “so, so pretty.” 

“te mereces algo mejor, mi esposa,” you deserve better, my wife. carlos continued. “so much more than those people, bebe.”

she was already too fucked out to even consider what he was saying, sobbing as she begged him for more. “carlos, please fuck me harder. i wanna cu- hah~ fuck— please—“

“shh,” he tutted quietly, his fingers now trailing down to rub her clit as she let out a sharp cry. now thrusting harder and faster, carlos moaned at the way her walls clenched around his cock as he mumbled, “so fucking good for me, mi amor. cum for me, bebe.” 

her legs twitched and heels dug into his hips as she whined, “gonna cum, ‘los! i’m cumming— ah- hah~” 

she felt nothing but euphoria, her vision turning white as she let out a quiet scream. “oh, oh~” she whimpered, feeling him paint her walls white with his pleasure as they both let out choked moans. 

carlos’ breath fanned her neck as he gathered his breathing. then, he gently pulled himself out of her. she let out a whine, telling him to continue stuffing her and that she felt empty without his cock inside her. 

he stood for a brief moment, watching as her body limped and a mix of her and his pleasure oozing out of her cunt. 

with her mind still hazy she murmured, “carlos, want you.”

“i know, mi vida,” he said softly. “i’m just gonna clean you up then we’ll go to sleep.”

“but—“ she sobbed, tears falling down again. 

“no more thinking,” he told her gently, yet his words demanded her to listen. he leaned over to press a kiss on her forehead as he mumbled, “not tonight. we’re gonna go to sleep and you’re gonna listen like a good girl, hm?”

she relented, wanting to please him as she nodded. a pout still played on her lips, not happy with his words but regardless she said, “mmm…okay.” 

carlos smiled lightly. it was nice to know that she got her emotions out already— she clearly needed that more than anything. 

[bhaalble]

Back on my Wyll script doctor because I was talking about it with a friend. Specifically imagining a version of Wyll's big Character Choice that felt like it had some actual teeth.

Imagine a world where instead of a cartoon evil hot lady Mizora and Wyll's relationship actually had some complexity to it and like. some genuine push and pull which gives him temptation to stay. I just keep thinking about this 17 year old who his whole life wanted more than anything to be a hero, who got his chance to do something heroic and selfless and save the city from certain doom, and his reward is getting kicked out because he did it the "wrong way".

Imagine if instead of forcing his silence, Mizora instead comforted him. How unbelievably cruel of your father! Well...since you've nowhere else to go, why not stick with me? We make a pretty good team, as it turns out, and I can get you a whole list of monsters who need killing. Plenty of devils and demons loose in your world targetting all sorts of innocents. Our interests can keep aligning, and you get a place to sleep when you need it.

Wyll makes his peace with it, because he has nothing and no one. And Mizora's not GOOD maybe, not by Ulder Ravengard's definition. But she's fun. She delights in his growth. And she does certainly keep direct him at greater evils, devils who really do need killing. And if she spies on his every waking moment, well, she worries. If she sends him after the occasional innocent, well, she had people who she has to answer to as well. She's a devil, how much can he fault her for her nature? She's always seemed like she knew where the line was...

Karlach (and the player) express their doubts, of course, but for act one at least he's defensive. Yes, she punished him and he hates it and its miserable but....he was in breach of contract! She's NEVER gone outside its bounds, she's always stuck very closely to their agreement. Wyll, who wants so badly to trust others and believe everyone has the chance for good, can't find it in him to believe the worst even of a devil.

And Mizora is FOND of Wyll, loves him even in her way. As a cherished pet, as a trusted tool, as a best-laid plan. Never enough to choose his own well-being over her own agenda, never enough to see him as his own person. He's her little project, the long shot noble brat she gambled on when Tiamat decided to get too big for her britches. And it paid off! Wyll always pays off, currying her all the favor from Zariel she so desperately craves. And who are you, or anyone, to come between them? She's treated him well. As she's quick to remind him, she wanted him when no one else did, aided him while the rest of his city slept snug in their beds. And if Ulder Ravengard didn't want a son with a whiff of infernal, then do you REALLY think he'd want you with lovely horns and Avernus in your blood?

You discover his father's been taken. Beyond igniting a lot of old feelings, it brings up a question of succession. Of course, Florrick isnt giving up on him, but if not...there aren't currently any likely candidates to take over the Flaming Fists. Not trustworthy ones. Florrick will take the position, but everyone knows in the back of his mind Ulder never really stopped planning for it to be Wyll. With the city in chaos and a cult army on the rise, they may need an answer sooner rather than later. Wyll feels the call of the Gate, but knows just as well that Mizora wouldn't want him to return in such an official capacity.

For the first time ever the leash starts to chafe in a way he can't keep pushing through.

Act 2 rolls around. Mizora sends up the Warlock signal. After potentially some encouragement from the player, Wyll (NOT THE PLAYER. I DONT KNOW WHY ITS THE PLAYER IN THE GAME ITS WEIRD) hesitantly proposes that maybe, if he does this....they can do a renegotiation of his contract. Not break it, he assures her quickly! Just....reopen the terms, take a looks at the agreement. Maybe discuss an exit ramp? After all....I mean, neither of us truly thought I'd be doing this forever, did we?

Based on Mizora's reaction. Yeah she did.

But fine. She agrees. And Wyll's not mad that it turns out you're rescuing her, not a nameless "operative" for Zariel. He would've done that on his own had she asked. Its the fact that she apparently didn't feel like being honest, that she let him fret and worry about potentially handing Zariel back some runaway for basically no reason. Its the fact that she came here to check in on the cult that abducted his FATHER just to see if Zariel could make any use of them. And its the fact that she seems surprised and annoyed that ANY of this bothers him.

All this builds, of course, to the final confrontation. The basic elements are the same. Mizora outside the coronation (this time needling at Wyll, "I'll be at camp if you're not too high and mighty to consort with the likes of me anymore"), Ulder tadpoled and fighting it. Mizora makes her offer. I can end the contract now, and you're free to go running after daddy (who won't want you btw! not like I do!). You'll lose all your powers, all my aid, all those juicy quests to chase down the greatest monsters in the hells. Take on your father's job and settle in for a life of misery and compromise and only doing as much good as the nobles will let you. Or: pledge yourself to me, eternally. I'll give you a boatload of new powers and eternal life to boot, so long as you serve as my sword and shield.

From there I think three endings branch out, and with it three classes for Wyll. If he stays with Mizora, accepts a relationship where he will never be an equal or a free agent in exchange for the affirmation he wants so badly from his father, he remains a Warlock, with some juiced stats and extra spell slots, along with shiny new gear. If he pledges to follow in his father's footsteps, he instead becomes an Oath of Devotion paladin, pledging himself in service to Tyr, if with a sense of doomed finality. The Blade of Frontiers is officially retired, and along with it any identity he has outside of being his father's son. Or the third path, break the contract without taking his father's role. He will look for his father, yes, but whether or not you find him he's going back to his roots, travelling around to do some good in the world (as the Blade of Frontiers) or kicking ass in the Hells with Karlach (as the Blade of Avernus). In this timeline he becomes a fighter, with a default preference for Eldritch Knight.

What's important: if he breaks his contract then Mizora is NOT hanging around camp. She will leave in a fury, accidentally bound by her own word to withdraw her influence completely if he breaks his contract. She may still approach the player some night to sleep with the player, framed for high approval/romanced players and her trying to take something back from Wyll. But Wyll will have to learn how to define himself without her breathing down his neck, without keeping her happy dominating his every thought. Its nervewracking, and even lonesome at times...but its freedom. And, perhaps, that's worth a little bit of lonesomeness.