#don the fawn

[witchhazelevesque]

Nah, nah actually I’m just like Don the fawn because every time I see Hazel I am also like “HAAAZEEELLL!”

[amaiaqt]

mail received : OML ?!! nagprovide pa ng photographic evidence si ate 😭😭

[onhigh-aa]

anonymous  :   △ would you go back to val if he asked?                ♥ meme

          ⋯♥⋯     9/10     ―     “ . . .I can confiden’ly say I don’t eva’ wanna go back.  I hate him an’ what he did t’ me, an’ I hated myself fa’ gettin’ stuck d’ere.  But t’ say I’d be able t’ tell ‘im no straigh’ t’ his face would be a lie. ”

[pedroscurls]

welcome to broadway (one-shot)

summary: it's the anniversary of oklahoma! and with it being your first broadway show, hugh takes you under his wing to show you the ropes. along the way, you realize that you've developed feelings for him. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader word count: 5.4k warnings: dry humping, suggestive smut (sorry - didn't go explicit in this one!), light dirty talk (this also isn't proofread, so apologies for any typos!!!) a/n: to the anon and @sir-thisisadndserver who both requested a story about broadway, i hope you both enjoyed this!!! (ugh, i wish i could watch the music man in good quality bc he just looks so good in it. but also, hugh in oklahoma! has done things to me... my god, his voice, the curls, just everything.) i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman! this is purely fictional.

THE TABLE READ

You can’t believe it. Lead role of Oklahoma for their anniversary showing. Twenty five years later and while mostly everyone came back except the role of Laurey, you were the only odd one out. You knew what this play entailed, knew exactly how it would end. You also knew that you’d be playing alongside Hugh Jackman, who was reprising his role as Curly. 

You’re excited, yet nervous. Hugh Jackman not only was an amazing movie and television actor, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t watch most (if not all) of his shows on Broadway. His sheer talent truly captivated, yet intimidated you. You don’t know how you will be able to act “normal” around him. He isn’t just talented, but he’s also incredibly attractive. Anyone with eyes would be able to see that. 

You’re the first one seated at the table and notice Hugh is set to sit next to you. You keep your eyes focused on the pages in front of you, trying to calm your nerves and get yourself ready to be in character. You can hear people come in, excitement and laughter filtering the room. You take a deep breath and stand up to introduce yourself. You’re taken aback by how welcoming everyone is and it puts you at ease, your nerves slowly beginning to die down. Everyone’s excitement is infectious, making you feel immensely thankful to be part of this cast. 

Your back is turned to the door, talking to one of the cast members that you don’t realize Hugh Jackman has finally arrived. He’s greeting everyone with a large grin and waves and you don’t notice. Not until you feel a soft touch in the middle of your back. Slowly, you turn around and look up, eyes slightly going wide as you stare up at him. 

He’s staring down at you with such a large smile that it literally makes you feel weak in the knees. Yeah, you don’t know how you’re going to get through this play without fawning over him, especially since your character – Laurey – tries to hide her feelings for Curly for the majority of the play. 

“Hello there,” he says softly, hand extending out for you to take. “I don’t think we’ve gotten the chance to meet yet. I’m Hugh.”

You bite your lower lip and extend your own hand, gently sliding it into his and shaking it slowly. “Hi,” you smile shyly and tell him your name. “It’s an honor to share the stage with you. I’ve been a huge fan.” 

Hugh chuckles, his hand soft and light with yours. He releases your hand and keeps his eyes solely focused on you. “I’m a huge fan as well,” he admits. “I’m glad you get to be my Laurey.” 

My Laurey. You feel your heart rate beat ten times faster, heat rising in your cheeks. “And you, my Curly.” 

He lets out a quiet chuckle, hands moving to his pockets. Hugh finds your energy and presence very calming and despite this being your first ever time on Broadway, he has to commend you for being professional. Though, he can see the excitement that flickers in your eyes. He knows that look, has even donned that same look every time he got on stage. “So, I hear this is your first time?” 

“On Broadway, yeah. Do I seem too nervous?” you laugh, biting your lower lip. “Because if I do, it’s because I am. I’m trying to keep it cool, but to be in a room with all of you? I just can’t believe it. I don’t want to mess up.” 

Hugh’s eyes softened. “Eh, we’re just a group of people who love to perform, including you. We’re all gonna make mistakes along the way, even on opening night, but as long as you’re having fun, that’s all that matters.”

You’ve heard stories of Hugh – how he puts people at ease, looks out for everyone in the cast and crew, and right now, you’re experiencing it firsthand. You suddenly feel your nerves disappear under his gaze and for once since finding out that you’d be playing the lead role of Laurey, you feel immense excitement. You’ve never been one to be shy on stage, but knowing that you’d be the new person in this cast instilled anxiety in you. They’ve done this before. They’ve played these same roles. And ultimately, you didn’t want to disappoint any of them.

“Thank you,” you finally reply. “I didn’t realize I needed to hear that.” 

“Well, if you never need more reassurance, I’m your man.” he winks. 

The theater director calls everyone’s attention, making a short speech at how it’s great to be back and how amazing of a show you were all going to have. You look around the room, seeing the smiles on everyone’s faces before you finally look up at Hugh. You’re surprised because he’s already looking down at you, giving you a reassuring nod as you feel his hand brush against yours. 

The subtle action grounds you, settles the nerves that begin to build in the pit of your stomach. You feel a sudden calmness wash over you as you take a deep breath, pulling your gaze away from him when you hear your name being called. 

“And we have our Laurey,” your theater director says, everyone clapping and cheering for you. “Welcome,” he says with a grin. “We’re lucky to have you.” 

You smile in his direction, nodding at everyone else in the room. “Glad to be part of this amazing cast,” you reply, everyone continuing to clap before it begins to slow down. 

“And our Curly,” the theater director continues, nodding towards the man standing next to you. “We’re all so excited that you’re here to reprise your role. It’s gonna be a great show.”

Once the theater director finishes his speech, everyone in the room takes their respective seats. Hugh pulls out your chair for you and you smile up at him, sitting down as he pushes it in for you. 

“Thank you,” you tell him.

“Anytime,” he winks. 

—

Throughout the table read, you finally feel at ease, comfortable in your element as you change your accent to reflect your character’s. Hugh changes his own and how lucky of you to get a front seat of his skill and talent. He turns to you, saying his lines at the beginning of the play. “On'y she talked so mean to me a while back, Aunt Eller, I'm a good mind not to take her.”

He’s staring at you with a charming smile, leaning back against his seat with his eyes staring into yours. 

You then say your line, rolling your eyes with your arms crossed over your chest. “Ain't said I was goin'!” 

Hugh then says his line almost immediately, “Ain't ast you!”

There’s a silence that engulfs the entire room as you two stare at each other. He’s still staring at you with a big grin and you with a frown on your face and eyes narrowed. You’re surprised at how much chemistry you already have with him, how easy it is to slip into the role of Laurey and exchange lines with him without any issue. 

As the table read continues, you can’t help but take notice of Hugh’s presence next to you. The scene where you kiss approaches and you know that it isn’t going to happen here, today, but to know that you will eventually have to kiss him makes you nervous, but also very excited. 

By the time the table read ends, a few hours have passed and everyone claps. The theater director dismisses all of you, saying that rehearsals will begin next week. You begin to pack your things before you feel Hugh gently reach a hand out to rest over your forearm. 

“You did great,” he says. “And to think you were nervous?” 

“I was,” you laugh quietly. “But I guess you helped ease my nerves.”

“I did, huh?” he smiles proudly. “Well, I suppose I should say you’re welcome.” 

You shake your head, standing up from the table and seeing him follow suit. “I was wondering–”

“Do you think we should–” 

You both say simultaneously, both letting out a quiet laugh. “You first,” you tell him, gazing up at him. 

Hugh smiles, bringing a hand to rub the back of his neck nervously. “Would you be okay with exchanging numbers? We can go over lines sometime when we’re not in rehearsal to get more practice in.”

You’re trying to contain your excitement, trying to remain calm and collected, so you give him a nod and then reach for your phone. “I was thinking the same thing. Here,” you hand him your phone and see him give you his. “Maybe we can meet up for coffee later this week?” 

Hugh smiles, typing in his number into your phone. “That’d be great. I know a perfect place.” 

You smile to yourself and type in your number before handing his phone back to him and taking your phone from him. “Perfect,” you respond, putting your phone back into your bag. “And if I get nervous at all–”

“Feel free to text me. Or call me.” Hugh finishes for you. “Like I said, I’m your man.” 

“Thanks, Curly,” you grin, changing your accent to reflect Laurey. “That’s mighty kind’a you.” 

Hugh chuckles, his eyes twinkling in the light as he smiles down at you. “Anythin’ for ya, Laurey.” 

—

REHEARSALS

The rehearsals have become more frequent as the date of opening night looms closer. You and Hugh have spent so much time together outside of rehearsals, either you coming by to his place or him coming to yours. Your relationship with him has blossomed in the span of a few months, feeling much more comfortable and confident around him. The more time you spend with him, the more you find yourself catching feelings for him. You wonder if it’s because of the nature of the role you’re playing, being the love interest of his and the fact that you both have rehearsed the kiss and dances multiple times. 

Though, you can’t help but notice the frequent texts and calls from him that have nothing to do with the play, or the way he lingers around you, some part of him always needing to touch you – on your lower back, between your shoulder blades, your hand. It all seems innocent enough, but with each touch, with each lingering gaze, you feel more and more attracted to the possibility that maybe the feelings are mutual.

Today, it’s only you and Hugh in rehearsals, practicing the dance in the dream sequence. You’ve both gone over the dance plenty of times today, both drenched in sweat. You take a short break, sitting down on the floor as your back rests against the wall. You take a long swig of water before Hugh takes a seat next to you, his side flush against yours. 

“Hey you,” he says, smiling in your direction. “You really know how to push me,” Hugh chuckles. “And I thought I was the hardest worker. You definitely make me look like I’m not doing enough,” he teases. 

You roll your eyes, gently nudging him with your shoulder. “Oh please, I’m only pushing you because you’re pushing me.” 

“What do you say?” Hugh asks. “One more rehearsal and we call it a night? Grab a bite to eat at my place?” 

“That sounds amazing,” you sigh in relief. “I’d have kept going if you hadn’t said anything.” 

Hugh chuckles, moving an arm around your shoulders as you lean into him. “You know, you can tell me to slow down. I don’t want you to overwork yourself.”

“I know,” you reply. “I just wanna prove to you and everyone else that I’m meant to be here.”

Hugh tilts his head. “You are meant to be here. You’ve got a lot of talent,” he says your name, eyes gazing into yours. “And this is just the beginning for you.” 

“Yeah, we’ll see after opening night,” you chuckle. 

“Not only are you talented,” Hugh says. “But you also love being on stage. Everyone can see it, can feel it. The audience will too. Now, get off your ass and let’s finish this dance.” He smiles, standing up and reaching out for you. 

You chuckle, taking his hands and standing up with his help. Your hands immediately dart out to rest on his shoulders, bodies flush against each other as your nose brushes against his. 

“Thank you,” you whisper. “For always reassuring me. I’m sure it’s exhausting.”

Hugh’s eyes never leave yours as one hand moves to rest on your lower back and the other takes your hand in his. “Not exhausting at all, baby,” he replies, his breath fanning over your lips. 

You clear your throat at the pet name, biting your lower lip as the music begins to play. You take a deep breath, trying to snap out of the trance that he put you in to focus on the dance sequence. Your gaze never leaves his as you both move across the dance floor. It was that specific moment where you were sure that he felt the same way. 

—

After rehearsals, you drive to Hugh’s place and see him step out of his car with a box of pizza. He leads you inside and walks into the kitchen, sitting at the table. You walk over to him and sit next to him, inhaling the aroma of food once he opens the box. 

“God, I feel like I can eat this whole thing,” you chuckle, taking a slice of pizza and lifting it to your lips. You’ve always felt comfortable around Hugh and you have to wonder if it’s because of him, how calm and grounded he makes you feel. You’re continuing to eat, eyes falling shut as you sway your body in the seat, just happy to be eating something. 

Hugh watches you with a loving gaze, eyes scanning your face as he stares at you. He certainly didn’t expect you to come into his life the way you did. It’s no secret that he gets along with everyone and has chemistry with every leading lady in his roles, but you… You’re a completely different story. He finds your passion to perform refreshing and your talent invigorating. Not only are you professional, but he appreciates your ability to put your all into each performance, even though it’s only rehearsal. It gets him excited to know that come opening night, everyone will know just how talented you are. 

He’s taken out of his thoughts when he sees you open your eyes, looking at him with a furrowed brow. 

“What? Why are you staring at me like that?” you ask.

Hugh smiles, eyes lowering to your lips as he sees pizza sauce at the corner of your lips. He also loves the fact that you’re not shy around him. He reaches up and wipes the pizza sauce from your lips with the pad of your thumb, staring into your eyes. “You’re a messy eater when you’re hungry.” 

The heat in your cheeks rises once again as you set the pizza slice down to grab a napkin, wiping your mouth. “You should have fed me during our break earlier.” 

Hugh chuckles, nodding in agreement. “Fair enough.” He doesn’t break the gaze, bringing the pad of his thumb to his lips and licking the pizza sauce from it. He sees your eyes dip down to his lips, hearing you quietly clear your throat as you bite your lower lip. 

“You’re cute, you know that?” Hugh blurts out, head tilting as he stares into your eyes. 

You roll your eyes and gently reach out to shove his shoulder. “Yeah right.”

Hugh chuckles, leaning forward in your space. “You are,” he whispers. “And there’s just something about you. I can’t put my finger on it…”

“Hmm…” you say quietly, eyes continuously darting to his lips. “Hugh…”

“Yeah, baby?” he says lowly. 

“Is this–” you whisper. “Is this appropriate?” 

Hugh then leans back, shrugging a shoulder. “Probably not,” he admits. “But I can’t be the only one who feels something between us…”

You look up at him, wanting to reach out for him, to pull him back closer, but you don’t. You’ve wanted him for months now, wanted this moment to happen for so long, but you couldn’t. You just didn’t know how things would change if you were both to cross that boundary… Even though you’ve both probably crossed so many lines already. 

“You aren’t,” you admit. “I want this just as badly as you, but–”

“Not yet,” he finishes for you. “After the play.”

You nod. “I just don’t know what’d happen if we do this while we’re still in production… I’ve waited for a few months, another few won’t hurt, right?”

Hugh bites his lower lip and shrugs. “Might hurt me,” he teases. “I mean, we’ve kissed already as Curly and Laurey. But I’d love to just kiss you as… As me.” 

“A kiss wouldn’t hurt,” you say quietly, slowly leaning into him. “But that’s all we can do.” 

Hugh nods and stands up from the chair to pull you up into him. The lights from the city reflect off his large windows as his hand rests on your lower back and the other on your cheek. Slowly, he leans in and brushes the tip of his nose against yours. 

“If we do this,” he whispers lowly. “There’s no going back.” 

“Fine with me,” you answer. “Now kiss me already.” 

Hugh grins and then presses his lips against yours, fingertips resting on the back of your neck. You’ve both kissed so many times already, but this time feels so much more different. Your lips move against his own, hands moving to grip his arms. Hugh walks you back into his window, feeling the glass press against your back as his hand moves from your lower back to your hip. Your lips part for him and he slides his tongue past your lips, hearing you whimper as a result. 

The kiss deepens as tongues get involved, lips moving with more urgency against one another. You’re about to bring your leg up to hook around his hip, but you stop yourself, moving your hands to his chest and slowly pulling him away. Breathless and panting. 

Hugh rests his forehead against yours, eyes remaining shut. “I’d say that was a great real first kiss,” he laughs quietly. 

“Waiting for a few more months might prove to be tough,” you admit, moving your hands into his hair and tangling your fingers into his locks. 

Hugh chuckles and pecks your lips softly, pulling back to look down at you. “Maybe we don’t go the full distance… yet.” 

“What do you have in mind?” you ask, biting your lower lip as you stare up at him with desire filled in your orbs. 

“Come on.” Hugh takes your hand and leads you to his couch, sitting down against it and pulling you down onto him. You straddle his hips, clearing your throat as you feel his manhood press against your core. You wrap your arms loosely around his shoulders as his hands rest on your hips, leaning his head up slightly to capture your lips once more. 

“This okay?” he mumbles against your lips.

“More than okay,” you answer, beginning to move your lips with his. Without hesitation, you roll your hips against his own. You’re wearing leggings and he’s wearing sweatpants and while the fabric isn’t as thick as jeans, it’s still too much clothing for you because you need to feel more. You need to feel all of him. 

Hugh groans against your lips, feeling his manhood begin to stir awake at the friction. His hands slowly move upwards, underneath your shirt as his fingertips dig into the flesh of your skin. He leans up to gently bite at your lower lip, your moan escaping your lips. 

You apply more pressure when your hips roll against his, his length hardening and straining against the fabric of his sweatpants. You feel a wetness pool between your legs, an anticipation settling into the pit of your stomach. You don’t know how you would wait another few months before fully feeling him inside of you since this sneak peek wasn’t helping. Instead, you’re yearning for more.

Hugh pulls away from the kiss only to place gentle kisses along your jawline, his hands continuing to move up your back, his fingertips brushing against your sports bra and back down to your lower back. The pressure in his pants tighten and he wants nothing more than to rip your leggings off your legs and slam into you, but he has to show some restraint.

You tilt your head slightly for him, exposing more of your neck as you feel his lips and his scruff brush against one of your many hot spots. You whimper, your hands gripping his shoulders. 

“Hugh,” you moan quietly. When you feel his teeth graze your skin, you have to pull back to look down at him. Your chest is heaving and you’re almost breathless. “Mmm, if we don’t stop,” you whisper. “I won’t be able to control what will happen next.” 

Hugh smirks, licking his lips slowly. “Okay,” he says. “Okay. Let me just…” Hugh gently sets you down next to him, readjusting himself in his sweatpants and the action doesn’t go unnoticed. You can see the obvious tent in his pants and his hand grasping himself to adjust his hardening length into a much more comfortable position. You can see the outline of his manhood, feeling your throat go dry at the sight. He’s long and thick and you have to peel your eyes away from him to avoid just settling yourself on your knees between his legs. 

Hugh watches you, eyes taking in your frame from top to bottom. It doesn’t help lessen the pressure in his pants because it only just makes him harder. “I’m actually going to…” he begins, pointing down to the center of his sweatpants. “I’m gonna take care of this. Will you be okay for a bit?” 

You clear your throat. The thought of being under the same roof as Hugh as he’s jerking himself off to the thought of you excites you. “Y— Yeah, I’ll be, um…” you bite your lower lip. “I’ll be here.” 

Hugh nods and then leans over to kiss your cheek, lips brushing against your ear. “If I had it my way, you’d be the one helping me take care of this.”

You shiver against his words and look up at him. “And if I had it my way, I’d drop to my knees in front of you to take care of it.”

Hugh growls, the sight of you on your knees now fully ingrained in his mind. “Great,” he chuckles. “I’m gonna keep that in mind while I…” he points towards his lower half. “While I handle this.” Hugh then stands up from the couch and excuses himself to go to the bathroom, allowing you to lie down on the couch and letting out an exasperated sigh. 

“It’s gonna be a long few months,” you mutter to yourself.

��

OPENING NIGHT

You feel the nerves begin to build as you’re all getting ready to perform for opening night. You and the rest of the cast and crew are all ready to perform, but you… You’re anxious. You’re nervous. You’re afraid that you’re going to mess up, so when Hugh rests a hand on your lower back, you look up at him with a tense look on your face. 

“You’re gonna be okay, baby,” he whispers. “Just have fun.”

You nod, feeling his hand drop from your lower back and you reach for it, giving it a tight squeeze. “Okay,” you say. “Just have fun,” you repeat. 

“Exactly. Let’s have a great show, yeah?” Hugh reassures. “And after this,” he whispers, lowering enough so that his lips hover against your ear. “We can finally go back to my place and take the next step.” 

That makes you stand straighter. You had been so focused on making sure that your performance was perfect as opening night approaches that you and Hugh hadn’t had an intense, passion-filled night since the night you had your first kiss with him. 

You feel the heat rise in your cheeks as he pulls away with a wink. “You know just the right things to say,” you chuckle. 

Hugh grins. “I knew that’d get you excited.” 

You feel your nerves begin to settle as the curtain begins to rise, knowing that Hugh’s character begins the play with a song Oh, What A Beautiful Mornin’. 

Throughout the play, you feel at ease once you step on stage, easily slipping into character. The back and forth banter between your character and Hugh’s are filled with a hidden and unspoken passion that you have for each other. Despite the roles you’re both playing, you can feel the tension and excitement bubbling within you as the play continues. 

Just another hour and then you and Hugh can finally have the moment you both were waiting for. 

Your first time on Broadway proves to be more than what you expected and you love it. Being on stage, under the bright lights, with a cast and crew that has the same excitement and passion as you makes you aware of the fact that this is truly where you’re meant to be. You couldn’t believe that you had questioned yourself at the beginning of all of this. 

After the scene where Laurey fires Jud, you know what’s coming. The kiss with Curly, followed by the marriage proposal. Once your lips touch Hugh’s, it’s filled with so much passion and relief. Part of you has to wonder if it’s because the characters, Curly and Laurey, finally admitting the love they have for each other, or if it’s because the end of the play is nearing. 

And it isn’t until you pull away that you see a fleeting familiarity flicker in Hugh’s eyes, a grin lining his lips. Throughout the next scenes, you’re both side by side, basked in the joy of being newlyweds and you know there’s a scene where Hugh is shirtless with suspenders. You are both backstage, getting ready for the next scene as you see him flex his arms subconsciously. 

You’ve seen him shirtless before, but right now, there’s something about the sight that makes an immediate wetness pool between your legs. When Hugh looks over at you, he gives you a wink, knowing exactly that you were just checking him out. 

Throughout the rest of the play, as it nears the end, you can’t help the excitement that bubbles within you. It isn’t until the end of the play that Hugh’s touch becomes more urgent, like he’s just as ready to leave with you. Each person with a pivotal role is introduced at the end as they bow towards the audience. 

However, it isn’t until your name is called that the entire audience’s cheers become much louder. You walk towards the edge of the stage and bow, smiling and waving as they give you a standing ovation. You look back at your cast, back at Hugh, who all are clapping for you. 

It was a perfect night and you know it’s only beginning. 

—

You and Hugh join the rest of the cast for a celebratory after party, having changed into much more comfortable clothing. You’re both at other ends of the room, but while you’re each in a conversation with someone else, your gaze is locked on one another. 

It isn’t a secret that you’re attracted to each other, but tonight, it’s completely obvious. Hugh’s eyes move along your frame slowly and under his gaze – even from afar – it excites you. You look at the time, knowing that it’s already so late and you’re ready to leave. With Hugh. 

You make your rounds, saying goodbye to everyone until you reach Hugh. He excuses himself from the person he was speaking to and meets you halfway, eyes filled with anticipation. 

“I’m heading out,” you say softly. 

“Meet at my place?” Hugh asks.

You bite your lower lip and nod. “I’ll see you there.”

Hugh then reaches out for his phone and sends you a text. You pull out your phone and see a four digit number, furrowing a brow in confusion. “What’s this?”

“The code to get into my place,” Hugh confirms. “If you get there before me, feel free to let yourself in.”

You smile to yourself and then reach up to wrap your arms around him in a hug. “It was a great night, Curly.” 

Hugh’s arm tightens around your frame as he shuts his eyes, whispering into your ear. “And it’s only just starting, Laurey.” He pulls back and kisses your cheek, lingering for a moment before he pulls away completely. “I’ll see you in a bit, baby.” 

You leave the party and make your way to your car, anticipation simmering in your depths. You drive to Hugh’s house, knowing that you’d get there before him. So, when you enter the four digit code the gave you, you see the gates open and you drive into his driveway, the garage opening up for you. 

Just a few minutes after you park, Hugh pulls in behind you. You step out of your car and look over at him, seeing him turn off the headlights once he puts his car in park. He climbs out and strides over to you, arms wrapping around your waist immediately. Without allowing you to speak, he dips down and presses his lips against yours, moving them eagerly against yours. 

“Mmm,” you whimper, feeling his hand move to your backside as he gently squeezes it into his hand. 

“Let’s go inside,” he mumbles, pulling back to look down at you. “I’ve been waiting for months for this,” Hugh chuckles. 

You nod and take his hand, following him inside his home. You don’t get far because you lead him to his living room where you push him back onto his couch and you straddle his hips like the first night you shared your first real kiss with him. 

He doesn’t waste any time in removing your shirt though, growling at the sight of you completely exposed for him, having decided on not wearing a bra. Hugh feels drunk off of you, his mind swirling with the immense thoughts and ideas of what he wants to do to you tonight. He knows he won’t get a chance to do them all in one night, but he just isn’t sure what to do first. He wants to taste you, wants to be head first between your legs. But he also wants to feel your walls wrapped around him, milking him to his own release. 

But your moans… your moans pull him out of his thoughts and he’s suddenly very aware of the look on your face. The heat in your cheeks. Your parted lips. Your breaths coming in short pants. You want this just as bad as he does and it only excites him further. 

“You did amazing tonight, baby,” Hugh says softly, hands coming up to brush against you. 

You whimper, looking deeply into his eyes. “Thank you,” you say quietly, eyes fluttering as his thumbs brush against your peaks. “Hugh…” you moan quietly. 

“I know, baby. I know… Let me take care of you.” 

Throughout that night, you barely got any sleep, but when you did, you were completely spent. Hugh had helped you reach your climax more times than you can count and that had never happened before. He was so generous, so considerate, but it was only because he yearned for the sounds that escaped your lips. Loved to see you squirm against his touch, enjoyed the sight of your eyes fluttering when he finally entered you. 

Hugh knew he wanted more. Needed more. He felt like a possessed man once he finally got that first taste of you. You unleashed something almost animalistic in him – the desire to see you come undone. The first time it happened that night, Hugh was in absolute awe. The way you arched your back, lips apart, body squirming against his mattress and a loud moan escaping your lips… it made Hugh want more of that. Want more of you. 

And he was certainly going to get it, that he was sure of.

[vee1021]

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU

Can I use her as my pfp please :3

Fawn could I please have a drawing of this goober please

Here's the reference of the goober

She's so silly

i donr know who she is but she seems so silly,, don quixote i think?

[redeyerhaenyra]

Divine Hammer

Summary: You bring up something new to Simon. He's more enthusiastic than you expected.

Warnings: What else but smut, HEAVY UK slang usage (me and si come from the same area of England our slang is v similar) Simon slaps reader once, fem reader, oral(f), fingering in BOTH holes, pussy juice as lube, anal duh, simons fat cock, sprinkling of a size kink, mean Simon, kitchen sex mmm, no beta we die like soap (sorry), lmk if I missed anything!

Notes: Listen the taboo of anal just gets me going alright , also this has been in my drafts since JAN 9TH help

Wc: 2.5k

Simon's stare was unnerving. Well, it was always unnerving, to a degree. But he found ways to utilise it. Deadpan humour, emphasising points of conversation, scaring away would-be hookups from you in the pub. But here, it was unnerving in a whole other way.

It felt… intrusive.

Simon stared at you like he could see through your clothes, your body, into your mind to expose your deepest darkest fantasies. You squirmed under his penetrating gaze, tugging at the hem of your jumper.

After a little while of silence, you shook your head, scoffing at yourself;

“-No, nevermind um.. I'm.. s-sorry that was weird-” “Didn’ say tha’ ”

You gulped, gaze nervously fixed to the floor. Simon was still. Staring. At you. Never before had you felt so exposed, too embarrassed and, if you were honest, a little scared to look at your boyfriend face-on.

“Was just wonderin’ since when my bird was such a slag.”

His baritone words rolled down your spine, sending sparks of a deep, taboo satisfaction through you. You whimpered, and hid your face in your hands.

“Don’ act like a prude love, we both heard what you wanted just now.” “I shouldn't have said anythinnnggg-”

Conceptually, anal had… a certain taboo charm to it. From your perspective at least. Sure, it wasn't technically the “right” hole… it wouldn't feel the same, but the idea had always fascinated you.. intruded your shadowed thoughts at night with your fingers rubbing your clit and edging nervously to an opening further on than your cunt.

So, gently, you'd broached the topic one time you were both in the kitchen together- thinking, in hindsight foolishly, that it'd be something he'd instantly dismiss, or at least… talk about later. In the bedroom. Not in the middle of the kitchen… but now here you stood, in the hole you'd dug for yourself;

“On the contrary, I'm relieved you've finally admitted it to yourself.” His footsteps were heavy against the floorboards as he approached you. Confused, you peeked out of the gaps between your fingers to look at him;

“W-what?” “Don't be fuckin’ coy w'me love.” Simon towered over you, cadging you next to the kitchen side.

“Always suspected there was some depraved shit up here, yeah?” He poked your temple with his index finger, “Turns out my intuitions were correct then?”

“T-thats not-” “Oh yes it is sweet’art.” Simon's eyes grew more intense by the second, even more than before- you struggled to even picture them in your mind for fear of his retribution.

“Ay- fuckin’ look at me when I'm talking to ya.”

He could have been a lot harsher with the small smack he delivered to your cheek, but that knowledge did nothing to dull the pain, and your eyes watered a little at the sensation. He grabbed your cheeks between his fingers, squishing them till you pouted and shaking your head lightly, as if to keep hold of your attention.

As if you could look anywhere else…

Forced to return his ferocious gaze, you crumbled, knees bucking like a fawn under you- Simon grabbed you and roughly hauled you back up, manhandling you to bend over the kitchen counter. You allowed him to, biting your lip in an attempt to muffle your unintentional sounds of appreciation.

It earned you a harsh smack to your rear, and Simon's big paw of a hand tugging your hair. He leaned over you, “ ‘M not ‘avin any of tha’ yeah? You're not gonna be hidin’ how much of a slut you are from me anymore sweet'art.”

The juxtaposition of his words and the way he sweetly kissed your temple after he said them was almost comical. The grip on your hair disappeared, replaced with firm and consistent pulling at your clothes until you shuffled out of them- Simon wasted no time running his warm hands up and down your body, rumbling out various admirations of your physical form.

He slunk down your body, nipping and pressing hot, open mouthed kisses down your back, and then to each of your cheeks, all the way down to your pussy. Earlier on, when you'd ridden yourself of your panties, Simon had laughed at how wet they were. “Already?” He'd asked, “Y'that turned on already? Whore. Like a bitch in heat f'me, ey?”

He had no further comments to mock you with, not now at least. He was busy approving of the view of your wet cunt in front of him- out of the corner of your eye you spied him nodding to himself as if he were appraising fine art.

You huffed, a little impatient, petulant you wiggled your bum at him- only all you got from him was another spank.

“Be patient.” He said curtly.

You whined, but otherwise did as you were told, meekly resigned to your fate as Simon's personal eye candy.

“Why ya’ into it then?” You made a noise of confusion, Simon huffed.

“This.”

One of hands had moved to idly grope and squish your bottom while he'd been down there, and now his thumb creeped ever so slowly over to press on your rim. You keened- suddenly understanding what he meant.

“Well?” His thumb pressed in deeper, you gasped- “I-i don't know!” “Hmmm…”

You could tell from his tone he didn't quite believe you. He kissed your cheek again.

“I'm sure I'll find out.”

With that said, his thumb remained almost gently rubbing at your hole, his free hand moving to pull his balaclava up over his nose- wasting no time in burying himself in your cunt. He sighed contentedly at the taste, smell, feel of you, lazily lapping at your cunny with his broad tongue. His thumb still rubbing you in slow circles, almost.. in a comforting manner.

There was no one more intimidating than Simon- at least out of all the people you've ever met, and yet here he was, eating your pussy like it was a home cooked, three-course meal. You looked over your shoulder, and bit your lip; The visual of big bad Simon Riley on his knees for you, make you shiver and clench.

Simon seemed to be secretly a telepath however, as the way he suddenly roughly pinched your clit between his index finger and thumb- tugging on it cruelly, came off as a punishment. You whined loudly, panting into the counter, drooling a little. Vaguely, you could hear Simon humming thoughtfully to himself. He released his hold on your poor clit, though quickly replaced it by rubbing small, soothing circles on it instead.

It quite quickly becomes a lot more intense, Simon grunting in approval as he plunges his thick tongue into your cunt. Your breathing is staggered, coming out in short, little huffs- you reach behind you to tug at Simon's head, shoving him closer. Again, he groans in appreciation, eagerly nuzzling between your thighs closer, the rhythm of his tongue and fingers rubbing at your clit increased a hundredfold;

Like lighting, your orgasm crashed through you, the noises that left your pussy- wet, squelching, the drip of your juices against the floor, should surely have had you feeling at least some shame, but no. You were too twitchy, too fucked stupid on Simon's tongue to care.

With much reluctantance, Simon hauled himself off of your puffy pussy. He'd gladly stay nestled between your kegs for the rest of him life, at least from further away, he could admire his work.

At this point, you thought perhaps he'd finally get to the meat of what you'd suggested.. Simon wasn't finished yet though- two of his deliciously thick fingers were swiftly shoved into your sopping pussy.

You cried out at the sudden penetration, shivering and trembling.

“What? ..silly cow.” Simon told you gruffly, somewhat annoyed that you'd dare disturb his probing at your cunt with your exclamation of surprise. You whined at his degradation, but were still coherent enough to recognise the underlying affection in his tone. Huffing, you leaned forward to lay your torso fully on the cold, sideboard. The cool temperature of the marble was sharp and sudden, but soon soft and gentle to your hot body, palliative to your hard, puffed up nipples.

He lazily pumped his fingers inside you for a few moments, before curling his fingers forward, dragging against that spongey spot deep within you, and eased his fingers out of you.

You were left huffing and panting like an animal into the counter- Simon had cupped his two fingers- the ones that was just inside of you- just under your clit.. then abruptly he slid them upwards, slowly, pressing down hard.

You squeaked, struggling not to quiver too hard. Simon's fingers kept creeping up and up and up, gliding firmly over your cunny, finally halting at your rim. The hot, wet sensation of Simon rubbing your own slick into your hole as lube had you trembling.

“How's tha?” You heard Simon mumble from behind you, his accent had gotten a little thicker. It always got thicker when he was “in the zone”.

“Oh.. uh..” Seemingly irked by your lack of response, your boyfriend slapped your clit harshly with the back of his hand.

“G-good!! It's good! Good!!” You choked, and whined again when you heard Simon chuckle lowly at you. He tapped his fingers twice on your hole- you nodded shyly at him;

Simon hummed, cautiously easing one of his broad fingers covered in your slick into your ass. The noise of utter debauched pleasure you let escape your throat was nothing compared to Simon's groan-

“Oh fuck that's tight..”

God it was, you felt how hard your greedy hole swallowed up his thick finger. You huffed and puffed- vainly attempting to breath consitently, but your body was too sensitive, muscles pulled too rigid inside you to keep your thoughts on one thing alone.

Simon was your rock, somewhere in the thousands of feelings inside you, was a certainty that he was holding back. Taking it slow, just for you.

You felt the hazey cloud of sex overwhelm you, rendering you more or less unable to speak, only babble incoherently into the counter, your pretty eyes filled with tears as Simon took his sweet, sweet time opening you up.

By comparison to how rough the pads of his digits were, they were remarkably soft with you, even as Simon squeezed one more of his fingers in you. You coughed and hiccups at the fullness of it.

“Tha's it.. good girl.. cmon.. open up luv.. there we go..”

You head him whisper, and you moaned impatiently. You wanted to politely express your readiness for his dick, but all the you were able to whine out was “C-cock-!”

Simon laughed, which was always a nice, comforting rumble. “I know sweet'art, gotta get you a little looser f'me first yeah?”

Even as you keened and begged, Simon would not budge. Occasionally, if he was feeling particularly mean in that moment, he'd flick your poor clit harshly, you'd squeal and twitch. This continued for a while, and by the time he deemed you “ready” you might have passed out, the electric fizzles of pleasure that sizzled between your legs kept you awake.

Simon could tell you were tired, he was gentle with the way he slipped his hand under you tummy to push your bum in the air, and tender with how he cradled your hip. Your clit was kindly soothed with slow, small circles rubbed in by his middle finger.

You sobbed into the side- “cock…” you babbled, sniffing and feeling sorry for yourself. You felt a kiss to the base of your neck;

“Mmmm.. I know baby, I know, m' so mean aren't I?”

Vaguely, you heard yourself murmuring in agreement. The metallic sound of Simon's belt loosening and then his zipper coming down had warm excitement flutter over your body.

You felt the heat of his dick before it even touched you, whimpering when it finally did. Simon rubbed his thick cock up and down the apex of your thighs, right up to hole and then back down to your clit. When you would whine at him, he'd hum right back.

God, he was so much bigger than you. He leant over you and covered your entire body with his bulk. You felt him throb at your rim. A kiss was levied at your neck- “Y’ready?” He asked, voice low, and you babbled back something that sounded like impatience. Simon chuckled and kissed your neck again, bracing one strong arm against the counter next to you.

All of a sudden he was inside you, not all the way but he was inside you and that's all you could think about. You gasped, inadvertently holding your breath and then once more remembering to breathe. Simon had stayed silent throughout this.. you reached backwards for him with one hand;

“Si?” “Y-yeah, yeah m’here, g’ve us a minute love-”

His voice came out ragged and shaky, and from the sounds of it he was doing the same forgetting-to-breath thing you were.

You both needed occasionally little breaks from him sliding his cock inside you this time, either of you would cum too quickly. But soon, all of him was pressed snugly inside you. You drooled on the counter and Simon's head had dropped to rest on your back, taking slow, steady breaths, grounding himself.

The both of you stayed like this for a while. It was almost peaceful. Soft. Till Simon decided he was fine to move and dragged his dick alllllllll the way back out and then in again in one thrust. It left you choked for breath, Simon too, he was more vocal this time than any other time you'd fucked.

Neither of you lasted long, specially not after your boyfriend had clasped his big paw of a hand under your leg, and lifted it up onto the counter next to you, an entirely new and more intimate angle. You were cumming before you even realised Simon had crept his hand down to pinch your clit. He was so mean about it too- that same hand then came up to shove to of his fingers into your mouth, creating a spit-slicked mess. And when he came it was an event:

He threw his head back and moaned more desperately than you'd ever heard from him before. The rhythmic squelch that narrated your encounter kept going even after he'd cum, if anything it was louder now. His and your cum dripping down out of you and puddling on the floor beneath you. Still, meekly, Simon kept thrusting into you, as if the orgasm was too good to end. Though finally it did, Simon's weight all but collapsing ontop of you.

You stayed like that for a while, still connected. Basking in your respective afterglows. Simon kissed your neck again and you croaked out a satisfied noise;

“Fun..” The man behind you laughed, “Yeah fun was it? Just fun eh? Just fun~?” Cruelly he reached under you to tickle your sides- you squealed; “More than f-fun!!” and that seemed to sate him, releasing you.

“Yeah, s’what I thought…..” He drummed his fingers on the counter..

“Bath?” “bath….”

[charliemwrites]

Part 7 is finally here! I only gave this a quick look over so if there are any glaring issues (like a random cut off sentence) please let me know! I was just so excited to get this one out.

Content: Brandon.

For all the power and influence it has amassed, SpecGru is a notoriously discreet and secretive operation. Mind, no one’s ever strolling down the street shouting their criminal affiliations for God and everyone to hear, but even by criminal standards, SpecGru is like a collective boogeyman. By the time most anyone knows they’re there, it’s already too late – and the rare (verbal) survivors only ever see masks and guns.

Granted, no small part of SpecGru’s prestige comes from whispered stories and unconfirmed rumors. Criminals are locker room gossips, the lot of them. Not that it’s completely unfounded. An execution is an execution, whether someone died with all their teeth and nails or not. (Usually not)

Few people know Price as more than a shadowy theoretical. (Someone must be in charge, that’s how the mafia works.) Even fewer know his face, never mind his name. It’s just good business that way.

In fact, SpecGru’s entire inner circle is shrouded in mystery. There’s not just the gray silhouette of the Don looming over their enemies’ heads. There are the lieutenants to contend with as well, acting on his direct authority, speaking on his behalf (with permission, of course) in his absence.

And then there’s Price’s right hand, the de facto boss should something happen. His heir, for all intents and purposes.

For those that have met Price in person, and by extension his few but devoted confidants, there’s always debate.

Is it Soap, loud and brash, but sharp as a whip? A decisive man, affable with a hidden mean streak?

Or is it Ghost, the quiet and calculating figure always at his side? A deadly and brutal enemy, shrewd and observant?

Kyle lets them stew in their assumptions and reminds himself that they’ll learn eventually – or they’ll be dead. He’s not fussed either way. It would suit SpecGru just fine if a few of those knobs keeled over sooner rather than later.

If only they knew that the hand that would one day grip their leashes was currently holding your purse so that you could pet a cute dog.

Not that Kyle minds; you have good taste. In purses, that is – though the dog isn’t half bad. A fluffy white and grey thing with a stumpy tail, practically crawling onto your pretty blue skirt as you coo and fawn. He started recording the minute you handed him your bag. (Price owes him for this.)

“His name is Mister Beans,” the uni girl enthuses to you.

You practically sob. “Mister Beans!”

He’s loath to hurry you along, but he’s supposed to meet up with Price for a Business meeting in only a half hour. Thankfully, you’re a considerate sort and don’t linger for long.

“Thank you so much, have a great day!” you cheer to the young woman. Then you turn back to Kyle, smiling huge. “Wasn’t he so cute?”

He chuckles. “It was. Wish I could have pet him, but white hair on this suit…”

You hum sympathetically. “I have a lint roller in my apartment.”

“I’ll scratch the next one,” he promises, offering your purse back.

You take it with your far hand and another mumbled “thank you,” then loop your closer arm through his. Don’t even seem to think about it, just accept the escort automatically. Kyle tries not to beam with pride. He used to have to prompt you, holding his elbow out at an awkward angle for you to get the hint. Now, you reach for the arm of whoever you’re with on instinct – as you should. (Another thing Price owes him for.)

“Do you like little dogs?” you ask, strolling with him for your apartment.

In the office, you’re a speedy little thing. Zooming from your desk to Price’s and back at velocity deserving of a ticket. Soap calls you a busy bee and it’s apt. Fluttering to and fro with stacks of papers or your tablet (“Reginald” you call it) everyone knows to make way at the click-click of your smart heels.

Outside, though, your purposeful stride slows to something less awe-inspiringly machinelike. Little Miss at work is a much different creature from Little Miss off the clock – but Kyle quite likes both.

“My mum had a little white dog while I was growing up. Crusty old thing,” he explains. “Prefer medium sized myself. Like a corgi.”

You giggle. “Like the royal family?”

“Oi, I liked ‘em before that.”

You just laugh harder at his defensive tone, patting his arm. He’s always impressed by how fearlessly you joke and tease him and the others. Have taken everything in stride from the beginning, didn’t even flinch when you first met Simon. If he didn’t know better, he’d almost think you had no idea just who you arched your eyebrows at this morning because of a “scheduling disagreement.”

“Speaking of dogs…” you mutter, mirth disappearing.

He follows your gaze through the clear glass of the building’s entry vestibule. Your ex is standing inside, already spotted you and fluffing up like the cock he is.

“Mind keeping back, doll?” Kyle murmurs.

You make a noise of protest even as you hand him your keys. “He’s not going to do anything after what Soap did.”

There’s an ugly black cast around his hand and up his wrist. Kyle smirks at him through the door.

“Rather not take any chances,” he replies.

You huff a bit, but quietly slip your arm from his, letting him take the lead into the building. (He still holds the door for you of course – he’s not a numpty.)

“Get the fuck out, mate,” Kyle says as soon as the door opens.

Brandon looks downright taken aback. “And who the fuck are you?”

“None of your business,” you interrupt, stepping up beside Kyle.

“The hell it’s not!” Brandon replies, taking an angry (stupid) step forward. Kyle mirrors him, making a point of loosening up his shoulders. In a surprising display of good sense, Brandon stops there. “Look, bunny, a high-value man needs a high-value woman.”

Your voice comes out flat and unimpressed. “And that’s you, is it? A high-value man?

Brandon rolls his eyes but sighs, as if he’s trying to be patient with you. Kyle’s fingers twitch. His piece is burning a hole against his back.

“Obviously. I have a degree, a six-figure salary, and two properties – all under forty. I’m objectively attractive, work out regularly, don’t smoke. I’m a good catch, don’t kid yourself that you can do better.”

At Kyle’s elbow, you go very still. The type of still that precedes blood and screaming. He’s seen it in Ghost before.

“Then why are you here?” you ask, tongue dripping acid. “Since you’re such a catch.”

Brandon sighs and shakes his head, trying for fond exasperation and only achieving constipated.

“I’m not willing to just throw away two years. I’ve invested a lot in this relationship, and we can still make it work.” It actually starts to make Kyle nauseous, the way he talks about you like a business decision. “I mean, you have some things to make up for but eventually, we can go back to the way we were.”

“And what,” you say through gritted teeth, consonants sharp enough to pierce skin, “do I have to make up for?”

Kyle listens, flabbers absolutely gasted, as Brandon answers.

“You ran off to play desk bunny for a man I don’t know. God only knows what ‘favor’ you did to land that job. You’ve lowered your value as a marriable woman but there are ways to make it up to me—”

“Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?”

Kyle’s ears ring like the first time he heard his mum curse.

Brandon looks taken aback too. You don’t give either of them a chance to respond.

“I know it’s not fucking me. Because if you were talking to me, you’d be stupider than you look.”

Brandon’s face flushes with anger. He takes another step forward. Kyle takes two in return, shaking his head in warning. Unfortunately, Brandon doesn’t know how to read his face any better than yours.

“C’mon, mate, it’s common sense. A lock that opens for any key and all that.”

Kyle’s heard it before. “Women ain’t locks, mate.”

“If you don’t get out of this building right fucking now, I will ruin your life,” you snarl.

Brandon does a double take. “Is that a threat? You can’t—"

“You bet your pasty ass it is,” you reply without missing a beat. You raise your voice every time he tries to interrupt, barreling through his weak protest like a train. “Fifteen fucking minutes. That’s all it would take to destroy you, your stupid sister, your bitchy mother, your pervert father, and that fucking slag you got pregnant twice.”

Kyle’s eyebrows rise with each word until he’s fairly certain they’ve floated up to the ceiling somewhere.

Brandon, though… Brandon’s face is ashen.

“How… how did you…?”

“Get. The fuck. Out.”

Kyle doesn’t give him the option to refuse. He scruffs Brandon by the back of his bland suit and shoves him out the first door of the vestibule. It closes and locks just as he turns around, a rebuttal finally juddering to his bloodless lips. You haven’t even turned to watch him go.

Kyle approaches you feeling a bit like he does coming to Price with shit news when he’s already pissed.

He almost says, you sure know how to pick ‘em – but thinks better of it. There’s practically frost forming beneath your feet, the air around you is icy.

“Walk you up, little miss?” he asks, offering his arm.

You gently take his arm and exhale heavily. “If you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.”

You invite him in at your door. Your hands are shaking a bit. He politely accepts, shooting Price the others a text that he’ll be a bit late. He’s not about to leave you in a state.

As usual, you step out of your shoes at the door, leaving you in your shimmery stockings, then pad to the kitchen.

“Tea?” you ask as he follows.

“I haven’t the time, doll, I’m sorry. I just want to make sure you’re alright before heading out.”

You turn, expression softening. Just like that, you’re back to your usual self, sweet as honey.

“I’ll be alright, I think,” you reply, sighing. “That was a long time coming.”

He leans his shoulder in the doorway, unable to help chuckling at the memory of your ex’s gobsmacked expression. The corners of your mouth curl up in shy amusement.

“Seemed like it,” he replies. “We should weaponize those f-bombs you dropped.”

That coaxes a giggle out. “Graves would be first on my list.”

“The boss’s too.” And oh, Kyle can’t wait to tell Price about this. (As if he needed another reason to hate Brandon and adore you.)

“Christ,” you groan, “you’re going to tell him about this, aren’t you?”

He’s at least able to muster an apologetic grimace. “You know I have to, sweets.”

“Suppose I’ll get the really good tea tomorrow,” you muse.

“He liked those pistachio scones from the corner café, too.”

You light up. It just so happens that they bake your favorite muffins too. “Good idea.”

“I’m full of ‘em.”

You snort, but there’s a fond smile on your face. Regretfully, he notes the time on the stove clock behind you.

“You’re sure you’re alright here by yourself?” he asks.

“I’m sure,” you promise, crossing to give him a warm hug. “I lock the door and windows like Simon told me.”

“Atta girl,” he says, pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, yeah?”

“Seven sharp!” you chirp.

He pauses at the door, “You call if there’s any trouble.”

You poke your head around the corner. “You don’t sign my paychecks; you can’t tell me what to do.”

He points right back at you. “That’s from the bossman direct.”

“Then he can tell me himself.”

He arches his brows. You blink.

“Don’t tell him I said that.”

He chokes back a chuckle. “Sweet dreams, little miss.”

“Get home safe, Kyle!”

As far as business meetings go, one with Los Vaqueros is almost pleasant. Sure, they always try to overprice their products, but haggling them down is practically a game between Price and Vargas by now. The shipping agreement between them and SpecGru is long established by now, a major link in the international arms market.

“Negotiations” are relaxed enough that Rudy and Valeria are playing cards with Ghost and Soap at the sitting table, whiskey glasses at their elbows. The plan for the next six months is all but set when Price suddenly jerks. In an instant, his face goes dark, shoulders tense.

“Something wrong, hermano?” Vargas asks.

“I’m getting a call.”

Soap and Ghost snap to attention.

There are only a handful of people that can reach Price during a meeting. All but one is in this room.

As he brings the phone to his ear, Kyle sees your name on the screen.

“Yes, love?” he answers.

Even from a couple feet away, Kyle can hear your voice through the receiver – high and panicked. Kyle’s already reaching for his keys.

“He fucking what?” Price barks.

Soap and Ghost jump to their feet, cards and drinks forgotten.

“Barricade the door, get a knife. We’ll be right there.”

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Masterlist

[slamminslamminmcgill]

joel’s pussy eating game is RIDICULOUS!!!!! he claims to be into servicing ppl and he is but…. it’s more in service of himself tbh bc of how selfish and hungry he is

warning: squirting, oral, rimming

anatomical terms: cunt/pussy, clit/t-dick

he’ll start slow to ease you into it. long, broad strokes of his flattened tongue up your slit. wet kisses dotting your clit. lots of spit to get you nice and wet for his tongue to just glide along your cunt however which way he sees fit.

and once your own juices start to flow, loosening you up for him, it’s blood to a shark. one drop hits his tongue and he’s GONE.

“fuckin’ christ, you taste good. yeah… yeah, i need more of that.”

joel smushes his face into your pussy, his stubble prickling your hypersensitive skin, and he fucking LATCHES his mouth on your clit, bouncing his lips off your sodden flesh as he sucks you off. soon you’re leaking enough that he can slide two fingers into you with ease. he curls them up into your g-spot and keeps them there, pushing your button over and over to get you to burst.

and may god help you if you squirt.

it splashes against his face and you hear a deep, rumbling, feral growl. it’s the sexiest sound you’ve ever heard from a man. one that reminds you of our basest urges, that we are naught but beasts at heart. horny fucking beasts possessed by pheromones and need.

“fuck yeah, c’mon. c’mon, gimme another.” he demands, starting his fingers right back up again, right into the swollen trigger point that has you gushing over and over. a firm hand cuts through the typhoon with a loud-

(SMACK)

on the meat of your ass.

“sit on my face. i wanna drink you.”

you peel yourself off his leather couch, knees buckling like a newborn fawn as you stand, and hobble over to where he’s laying on the carpet. he’s frantic, aggressive and repetitive in his orders.

“get over here... get over here, boy... get over here…”

your knees flank his head, facing his legs, and you lower yourself down until your pussy bumps his nose. he starts licking right away. you look down and his cock is throbbing, an angry shade of red. being that he’s been so generous to you, you see fit to return the favor. you lean down and take his cock in your hands, though you barely get to kiss it before joel intervenes.

“nope.”

he hooks his arms under your armpits, grabs you by the shoulders, and YANKS you backwards, pulling your face away from his cock and holding your back upright.

“nuh uh. fuck my face. i want you to use me. don’ worry ‘bout my cock, sweetheart, just fuck my face.”

you hesitantly hump his face, tiny jerks of your hips to get used to the feeling and get a rhythm down. as you grow accustomed to it, your soaked cunt easily glides across his face, your swollen t-dick bumps his lips and he sucks it in his mouth. his tongue swipes between your pussy and ass, your juices dripping down his cheeks.

eventually, you squirt again, just a tiny bit.

but it’s not enough.

“give it to me.” joel barks, and shoves his fingers back in for some not-so-gentle encouragement. “c’mon, kid, give it to me. squirt down my fuckin’ throat, c’mon. lemme drink you. gimme somethin’ sweet to drink, baby boy.”

you give him exactly what he wants, squirting right into his mouth in hot jets. his growl vibrates your entire cunt and he slurps it all up.

when it gets to be too much, you roll off him and onto the floor. the two of you lay side by side, gasping for air. his face is dripping, his wet hair resting on an incriminating wet spot on the carpet. you’re staring at the ceiling as it swirls, creating beautiful constellations in combination with the stars in your vision. joel reaches out and tugs you close to him. his overworked lips smooch your forehead, and he says,

“good boy. hottest thing i’ve ever seen in my fuckin’ life.”

[yestrday]

bro like

imagine if reader and housewife scara had a kid that looks practically exactly like one of them and yet got the personality of the other parent 💀💀💀

🍡 anon back at it again

ghiwefi i can imagine the domestic shenanigans here istg kuni's reactions would be fucking hilarious. also you get called papa once because i couldnt think of any gn parental terms

you might like: yandere! genshin malewife au ft. scara

"oh my gosh say that one more time for the camera, sweetie."

your eight-year-old flips you off from his seat, glaring at you over a bowl of cereal. his [hair color] is messy from tossing and turning in his sleep and his pouty lips are in the most bitter scowl you have ever seen adorning them. you squeal as you capture your vulgar child on camera and begin fawning over it on camera, whilst kuni karate chops him on the head.

"ow! whaddya do that for?!" he complains, covering his bump with his tiny two hands as kuni locks him with an equally deadly glare.

"you brat, you better treat your parent with more respect!" he scolds. he looks threatening, despite holding a pan with the most delicious looking waffles while donning a frilly lavender apron. "if i see you flipping someone off one more fucking time, you're losing tv privileges!"

"why not?!" the child yells indignantly as he shakes his tiny fists at his father. "you do that to them all the time?!"

"just because i do it doesn't mean you can!"

"then you're not a very good parent, are you?!"

kuni pops a vein, and he feels the most vile sentence forming on the tip of his tongue before he bites it down and sighs. "for that, i'm still cutting down your tv time by one hour." he cries out in outrage, but he ignores him and slides the waffles onto a plate. "go play outside or something.... honestly, you look like this idiot over here—" he shoots a sharp glare at you, still fawning over the picture. "— but you're too goddamn rude to be anything like him."

"maybe it's because i get it from you!" the kid says, mouth full with waffles. kuni glances at him and scoffs, lightly hitting him again on the head.

"... make that two hours."

"never say that kind of sappy shit with my face ever again."

"but dad~" your daughter whines, tugging on kuni's kimono sleeve. "i love him! can't i just buy him one box of chocolates? please?"

kuni wrinkles his nose at the notion of a mere ten-year-old falling in love, and even more so when his literal carbon copy is pulling a lovesick expression with his face. she has the sharp eyes and all, yet they look so... girlish? dreamy, when on her. something about it grates on his nerves.

"how could you possibly like a guy like him?" he scoffs, scanning the aisle for a specific brand of flour. "you said he hated you. he throws your notebooks, mocks and humiliates you, and is basically anything but a decent human being. if it weren't for [y. name], i would've gone over to that school and ripped him and whatever vile parent he has into shreds."

"but! but!" she whines. "papa says you were exactly like that before!" kuni freezes. "then he could be the one for me!"

kuni snorts and grabs a bag of flour before dropping it into the cart. "your papa was and still is an idiot. but still," a fond smile graces his lips for a second. "we're the exception. doesn't mean it can turn out well for you."

"is that a no, then?" she pouts.

kuni is silent, and she perks up and pulls him down to give him a peck on the cheek. "thanks, dad!"

"whatever," he grumbles as she runs off to the chocolate aisle, holding the kissed cheek with an embarassed blush on his face.

[hxney-lemcn]

Cloud Nine — Rayne Ames x gn! reader

summery: reader finds themself not only friends, but falling for the mysterious stoic Divine Visionary. Lucky for reader, Rayne seems to be falling for them as well.

tw: anxiety, breakdowns, but also tooth rotting fluff, hurt/comfort

a/n: I FINALLY FINISHED IT!!! WOOOO! And I'm so proud of this too!

wc: 3.2k

Master List

You didn’t exactly know what your relationship with Rayne was. It seemed that you had managed to wiggle your way into his soft spot, but that didn’t mean he treated you much differently. He’d watch your every movement and it felt like he was judging you (he was actually just admiring you but he would never admit that). He’d pick apart the faults in your projects or homework (he just wanted to make sure you got a good score). He’d pick apart whomever you’d find yourself fawning over (they were never good enough for you and he didn’t want to see you hurt).

You weren’t even sure how you ended up in this…friendship? You had a basis. It had to be due to the fact that you both ended up in the same set of classes together. Study of magical creatures. You were completely enraptured with animals and insects alike (more so animals, but you found some insects quite interesting). Rayne had a similar interest…though his fascination was more narrowed to a specific animal. You had only found out about his obsession with rabbits when you had been scratched by a creature your class had been tasked to observe. Rayne had handed you a magical handkerchief that he said would heal your wound…it’s pattern being bunnies. 

You bit your lip to stop a smile from spreading over your lips at that. The stoic heart throb of Easton Magic Academy was a bunny lover. That moment had humanized him to you. It showed that he wasn’t just some powerful prodigy that only cared about his own agenda, he had a heart that he hid from the world. He told you to keep it, but you ended up washing it and giving it back to him at a later date. It was nice of him, but it felt wrong taking something from a stranger. 

Well he wasn’t much of a stranger after that, since the next project for your class had been raising an animal of your choosing with a partner. It was to teach you about the importance of development in animals and how their environment can dictate their personalities. To your utter surprise, Rayne had claimed you as his partner for the project, not even allowing you a word in the matter. You weren’t too pressed about it though because you didn’t really know anyone else in the class. The two of you worked together quite well. You weren’t as annoying as Rayne had thought you’d be, and he wasn’t as rude as you thought he’d be. 

You found yourself walking down the hallways with Rayne by your side. You found yourself sharing lunch with each other. You found yourself studying with him in your free time or going to his dorm to check in on what you dubbed, your child (bunny) from your previous project. You had even acquainted yourself with his roommate and best friend Max Land! 

So why didn’t you fully think of yourself as his friend? Well…Rayne had a tendency to send mixed messages. On one hand, he’d walk you to your class, and on the other, you wouldn’t see him for a week straight. Of course you knew he wasn’t going to be as present this year, as he had been donned a divine visionary, but he couldn’t warn you about an upcoming mission or task? It stung when you’d either found out from Max when he asked you to take care of the bunny or when Rayne would just mysteriously vanish off the face of the Earth.

But at the end of the day, you still considered Rayne to be your friend. He wasn’t perfect, but you still cared for him and in his unique ways, he cared for you.

One time that he let his feelings shine through was at this moment.

“Are you stupid?” Rayne asked, eyes squinting at you.

You pouted at his bluntness, “But I wanna pet it!” 

Today in your class you were going over rare creatures, at the moment, going over Bunyip’s. It was a beast that was only found in lakes, rivers, or other bodies of freshwater. They were dangerous as their diet was apparently indiscriminate about what their prey was, but you got hooked on their appearance. Perhaps most people would be horrified or put off (particularly by the fact that no one has seen one enough to give a description), but when you heard that it was sometimes described to look like a seal or swimming dog you were caught in a strange love. 

“There’s not even enough evidence that it exists,” Rayne countered. “And if it did, it would kill you without mercy.”

“That’s okay,” You shrugged. “As long as I can claim I got to pet it.”

“You can’t claim anything if you’re dead,” Rayne huffed, but you had learned to read his emotion through his eyes, and they held a slight glimmer of amusement at the moment. 

You paused, as you weren’t sure how to rebuttal that. So instead you crossed your arms with a pout. Moments like these became more abundant the closer you two got. The stoic Rayne Ames became…well still stoic, but he seemed to become more comfortable in your presence. Awkward pauses in your conversations became far and few inbetween, banter started to become natural between you both. Maybe you dramatized yourself a bit, but that seemed to make it easier for him to tease you (in his own slightly condescending way).

Although the moment that you realized his feelings for you ran deeper for you than you realized happened when you were having a terrible day. You woke up annoyed, no particular reason for it, you just felt like it was going to be a rough morning. Of course, how you perceive the day is going to lead to its outcome. You skipped breakfast, not feeling hungry, only to become ravenous in your first period. Your teacher handed back your previous tests and you didn’t do as well as you thought you had. As the teacher went over ways to better scores for the next test, it felt like they were aiming every word at you. When lunch rolled around, it was hard to hide your sour mood in front of Rayne and Max, but it didn’t seem to matter as the two seemed to completely ignore you, only worsening said mood. You knew it was irrational, they weren’t doing anything wrong, maybe you were hiding your feelings better than you thought, but it felt like maybe they just didn’t care.

So you continued on, not even trying to hide scowl on your face. You felt invisible, so why try? You had finally snapped as someone accidentally spilled ink on your paper that you had nearly finished. You felt your eyes well up with stressful tears threatening to fall down your face. You quickly gathered your things, waving off the person as they apologized. You didn’t care that the class had only started ten minutes ago, you were done. The day was almost over anyways, no harm in skipping your last class. You booked it out of the class, ignoring the stares of your peers and the way your teacher looked at you worriedly. You tried your hardest to stop the tears, but it was no use as they started spilling the second you crossed the door frame of your class. Keeping your head down, you rubbed at your eyes as you walked down the halls towards your dorm. 

So caught up in your torment, you had forgotten that you shared your last class with Rayne. In your mind, it didn’t matter, yes he was your friend but you knew how seriously he takes his schooling seriously. So when you were suddenly pulled into an empty classroom by said Divine Visionary, you were surprised. Not only surprised, but you felt ashamed. You hid your face as pathetic sobs left your lips. You continued to rub at your face, trying to halt the never ending stream of tears. God this was so embarrassing! You didn’t want him to see you like this, it felt like it ruined how you wanted him to see you. 

Rayne on the other hand felt out of his depth. Emotion’s were something he tried to stay away from. That was until it came to you. You had unknowingly shown him the good in feelings, not just the bad he was used to. In fact, you were so good at making things seem brighter, he had failed to consider that the bad affected you just like it does to everyone. Seeing you sob your heart out didn’t sit well with him, hearing your distressed cries felt wrong. You were always happy, cheerful, a shining smile on your face as you shared something you found fascinating. With all the bad in the world you always managed to find something good, and you shared that with whoever would listen. 

“I’m sorry,” You apologized, still hiding yourself from the stoic man standing across from you. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Rayne’s heart broke, even in a pained state, you still apologized. For what? He wasn’t sure, but he had a gut feeling it was because you didn’t want him to see your own pain. Rayne racked his brain for what to do, but seeing you in such a state made it feel blank, like all knowledge had vanished from him completely. In what he lacked with emotional knowledge, he knew even less in comforting or touch. He was completely out of his element, but he refused to just stand on the sidelines and watch you suffer on your own.

You felt yourself pause as you felt a hand rest on your head. Peeking up through your fingers, you watched in slight wonder as Rayne awkwardly patted your head. Tears were still falling down your cheeks, but your breathing started to even and your sobs diminished. You had been so flabbergasted by Rayne’s actions that he had managed to shock you out of your previous hysteria. 

You felt yourself warm at the gesture, how he went out of his comfort zone to try and comfort you. It was awkward, sure, but it meant everything to you. And against your own wishes, you felt more tears start to fall, this time due to how intense all your emotions felt at the moment. You had never felt so grateful towards someone, so much care and love. Out of your better judgment, you jumped at Rayne, squeezing him tightly as you cried into him. His arms froze awkwardly at his sides, unsure if this meant you were happy or still sad. The way your hands scrunched his robe, or how you squeezed him like your life depended on him. He felt his face warm, unused to such a notion. Slowly and awkwardly, he put his arms around you.

That moment had changed things between you both. You had become a lot more affectionate towards Rayne (though you kept that for either if you two were alone or just small things in public). At first Rayne didn’t know how to react, he thought you were warm before, but now you were like a sun shining down on him. He was even more befuddled as your special treatment only seemed to be aimed at him. Unknown to him, he had become warmer towards you as well. After that incident, he kept a sharper eye on you, wanting to make sure you never cry like that again. You found it odd at first when trinkets would show up randomly. Sometimes it was items with your favorite animal as the pattern, other times it was trinkets with bunnies as the pattern. Which was a dead give away that it was Rayne who was giving the items. 

You both had become pining idiots, much to Max’s amusement. He hadn’t expected to ever see his roommate fall for someone else in such a way. Yes, he knew that deep down Rayne was a softie, but he couldn’t imagine his friend to be in a romantic relationship. Even so, Max was overjoyed at the events unfolding before him. He would watch with a grin as you offered parts of your lunch to the spilt colored haired man, or how in return Rayne would slip an animal keychain in your bag. 

It was amusing for a certain period…but he started to slowly lose hope that either of you would try to take it further. You both were in a comfortable spot in your relationship, so why rock the boat? Even Finn couldn’t deny that his brother might’ve found himself a true companion, a fact that made him happy. All in all, no one could deny the chemistry between you both. Not even you could find a way to wave it off as friendly. You certainly felt a love deeper than you’d like to admit towards the Sword Cane, and it was hard for you to brush off how much he seemed to care for you as well. 

You found yourself in a conundrum. You had never been in a situation like this before. Where you had feelings for someone and the person actually seemed to reciprocate. But as always, you managed to find a problem. Was Rayne looking for a relationship? He was busy as ever as a Divine Visionary, and that didn’t seem like it was going to slow down. Could it even work? Maybe it was for the best if you two just stayed friends. While Rayne on the other hand never expected to feel like this for anyone. He hadn’t expected to fall for anyone, it wasn’t in his plans for the future, nor would it benefit him in his goal to make the world a better place for orphans. Yet now, when he thought of the future, it seemed bleak if you weren’t by his side. 

Both of your paths seemed like it was going to stray. You wanted to become a wildlife expert of some kind, while he already had his career. A Divine Visionary and a scientist, how would it work out? (Yes, you were both so in love with each other y’all are already thinking that far ahead). 

Yes, Max found your pining amusing, but he also started to get tired of how hopeless you both were. You both clearly cared for the other deeply, it was time for one of you to push things further. So, Max decided to talk to you first, as you seemed to be the easier of the two to push things forward. What he hadn’t expected was how deep your anxiety ran. He could only sit there sweating as you continued to rant a seemingly never ending list of possible problems that might happen. 

“What about tomorrow?” Max asked, cutting you off before you could go further into how you may both be trapped in a loveless marriage.

“What?” You asked, unsure what he meant by that.”

“If you both were together, what do you think would happen tomorrow,” Max clarified, brown eyes filled with warmth. 

You paused, not having thought of that, “Uhm…I guess what it's like now.”

Max smiled, “So why shouldn’t you confess?”

You stammered, heart beating erratically at the anxiety that filled you, “Be-because what if it goes wrong?”

With a sigh he retaliated, “And what if it doesn’t? You have to just take it a day at a time.”

Pausing once more, you realized the anxiety you tried to work on before had overtaken you. You had a problem with overthinking the future, you had even sought help to combat it. They had told you the same thing: ‘it’s not healthy to obsess over the future like that. Just take it a day at a time’. Thinking over the situation once more, you groaned. 

“Your right,” You grumbled, head falling onto your arms. 

Instead of teasing you like he normally would, Max only smiled at you gently. You were a friend of his after all, and everyone struggles with something. You really cherished Max, especially when he helped you come up with a plan to confess. 

There you stood, just as planned, Rayne was alone in the dorm. Max had left so you two would have privacy. Gathering all of your courage, you knock on the prefect’s door. Your heart felt like it was slamming against your chest. You couldn’t help but feel ridiculous. You were holding a bunny plushie, face feeling aflame. The door opened, Rayne’s stoic face, though it seemed like his eyes slightly lit up when he realized it was you. He let you in, as it wasn’t unusual for you to visit. Your eyes landed on your shared pet rabbit, it hopped towards you and you couldn’t stop yourself to lean down and pet it. Rayne watched on, trying to ignore how his heart skipped a beat at the sight. He found you as cute as a bunny, but he wasn’t sure how to express that. 

Standing back up, you inhaled a deep breath. A serious look fell across your face, but it was hard for Rayne to take you too seriously as you now not only held a rabbit plush, but your pet rabbit. 

“I really like you and I think we should date,” You stated, holding the plushie out towards Rayne. 

He stared at you, his brain felt like it was short circuited. You both stood there, watching the other, warmth overtaking the both of you. Suddenly, your serious face turned into one of horror. Had you really just confessed like that? You felt your face flame up, shoulders rising to hide you. That was close to how you had first asked someone to become your friend (they did become friends with you, but didn’t let you live down how awkwardly you asked). That was when you had vowed to never ask someone to be your friend, every time it was someone making friends with you. So why had you trusted yourself to confess? 

“I-I mean, uh,” You stumbled, eyes darting around to try and salvage it.

“Okay,” Rayne finally spoke, accepting the bunny plush. You had managed to leave him speechless, but he quickly snapped back, ending your fumbling. 

You blinked with wide eyes, “Wait, really?” Yes, it was hard to deny how well you both got along, how you both treated the other like they were special, but you hadn’t actually expected him to say yes. Maybe he would let you down nicely, saying he wasn’t ready for a relationship, or that he just wanted to stay friends, but you weren’t going to complain. 

Rayne nodded in response, “I…like you too.” 

“Cool,” You nodded, unsure how to continue. Like stated before, you hadn’t expected it to get this far. You pet the rabbit in your arms, trying to calm your racing mind. What do people do after becoming a couple? It didn’t help that Rayne had just continued to stare at you, making your heart race faster. 

Once again, Rayne patted your head awkwardly. Yeah, it seemed like you both had to figure out what to do.

[thecowboykatsuki-anon]

Barbarian! Bakugou who loves to torture you, the eldest child of one of his parent’s advisors.

As a kid, he loved to pop up behind you, out of bushes, around corners, just to hear you shriek and then he’d run off laughing. Tug on your hair until you’d bat at him.

As a teen, he was no better, galloping his horse entirely too close to you as he passed, jamming a chair in front of your door so you were late to the lessons you shared with him.

And as an adult? God, he was insufferable. His pranks weren’t so physical anymore, not aiming to make you shriek. He just liked bothering you, loved getting a rise out of you as you tried to study, his heavy boots sprawled across your desk as he sat in your chair. He loved your sharp tongue, grinning widely when you’d mutter our complaints over being his advisor one day.

You never understood why the women around the palace and kingdom fawned over him. Sure, he was handsome, with his golden skin and blonde locks and eyes the color of your favorite wildflowers… but he was an ass, and you both knew it.

But despite all his torturing and pestering, you never fought back, a fact that had him amping up his antics, getting bolder.

It’s how you end up in your current situation, pinned up against a shelf in the library, Bakugou’s hulking figure closing you in as he smirks down at you. He’s entirely too close, and you hold a book clutched to your chest to try and create a sort of barrier between you and his roaming gaze.

He looks entirely too comfortable like this, licking his lip before he speaks, his voice low and teasing. “Yknow my parents keep telling me that eventually I’ll have to settle down and start producing heirs. As my future advisor, I think it’s only fair you help me practice, for the good of the kingdom.”

Your eyes widen and cheeks heat at what he’s suggesting, and panic trips in your chest as he begins to lean in closer. You react without thinking, lifting the heavy book in your hands and swinging.

You didn’t really mean to hit him, only hoping that he’d dodge the swipe, but there’s a harsh smack as the leather makes contact with his cheek and his face is shoved sideways.

You gasp, the book dropping from your grasp with a clatter as your hands cover your mouth in horror, already babbling out apologies as he straightens, rubbing his cheek.

You can’t see his face from this angle, but you can see all your hard work and parent’s legacy crumble before your very eyes, sure that you’ve doomed your entire family with one accidental strike.

Tears begin to bubble at your lashline, blurring your vision as he turns to face you. You’re quick to cover your face, horrified to let him see you like this. You jump when a hand circles around your wrist and tugs it down, calloused from years of wielding a sword.

A moment later, he’s pressing the book back into your hand, quiet as you stare up at him in surprise, lip wobbling. He’s still silent as he cups your cheek, swiping away a tear that’s rolling down your skin, and you’re surprised to see that his ruby eyes are gentle, a sharp contrast to the usual glint he usually dons when looking at you.

“Shouldn’t tease you so much, ‘m sorry,” he murmurs, and your mouth falls open in surprise at his apology, especially since you can already see his cheek purpling where you hit him.

Before you can speak, he’s gone again, and you’re left staring after him, wondering what the hell just happened.

[thisisnotthenerd]

god what a fantastic finale of mentopolis. phenomenal work from everyone.

a list of my favorite things about this episode:

concocting a plan to both get money from don avaricci while not killing conrad. the character arc that dan fucks went through in mentopolis was slow but my god was it funny

imelda flashing her boobs and getting four gangsters on her side

dan flashing his dick and getting it shot immediately. on sight.

the diamond hard balls coming back to deflect the bullets

the mechanical changes that came from the key-pressure combination

ivana rolling a 59. truly what the fuck. two nat 20s and a 19 in front of the board. they watched that happen in real time. and trapp rolling a one sturdy. getting punched a quarter mile out of the station.

dan's heroic sacrifice for conrad fully made me tear up. the fact that he was distracted by the glorious revolution of pleasure does not detract from this

the adrenaline injection moment and curios moxie intake

all of the effort that went into medical attention for dan. fucking wilton. the hand spit guy is dan fucks' dad?!?!?!

the fix taking that key from madam loathing! he did it! he put it in his craw!

conrad talking madam loathing down with a d100 spirit roll! sometimes the mechanics really do tell stories in a way you just can't get in standard media

the 11 sturdy. the 57 spirit. (alex's favorite number because it's the number of Heinz varieties)

elias taking the initiative and getting going

the fix menacing don avaricci with dinoflagellates and punching the shit out of him

the birthday cake!

elias getting an ice skating date with the coffee shop girl!!!!!!!!

i owe my sister a call!!!!!!!

the entire epilogue was great: elias becoming a whistleblower and getting the mind control shut down, anastasia & fawn's relationship, conrad & dan fucks' business partnership, curio finding foot stuff

the fix and pasha get their own bullet point. half of that was hank and brennan just fully flirting. going to madam loathing's to: find ichabod, who had been running nostalgia's, stuck in the past for so long, propose (after 20 years of marriage? Hank what is happening?), find out madam loathing, now guilta is going on a self-discovery trip, fully just get her house, and custody of all of elias' repressed childhood interests!

anastasia running for public office alongside frank freeze (pay attention!) after getting the DA arrested in court

and of course, imelda capping it off with chattanooga choo choo

truly what a fantastic season. while both of the kids on bikes/brooms seasons i.e. mismag and mentopolis were fantastic, i think mentopolis had just enough time to really get a little more crunchy mechanically, and that resulted in some great moments in this finale specifically. this is a sidequest i will be coming back to for rewatching. i loved it.

[caelivir]

surrender | rayne ames

synopsis. rayne ames can’t stop staring at you tonight, which is strange, considering the fact that he loathes your guts.

pairing. rayne ames x fem!reader, | wc. 4.1k | genres. haters to lovers, tension, jealousy, rayne's hot and obsessed and reader's in denial | warnings. reader wears lipstick but it's mentioned once at the end, they make out what's new (it's good for my the soul), a bit suggestive

notes. tbh this wasn't supposed to be as long as it is. what a yap fest. blame my hormones and the weeknd. this is ugly and i hate it but it will have to do while i continue working on other fics.

you can’t comprehend why he’s here. the rest of the student body can’t either because the moment he walked through those doors all eyes were on him.

you’re positive that rayne ames had to have some devil whispering in his ear. how else would he be convinced to attend a grand event such as this one? dancing? socializing? it’s not his style, especially when he knows that every guy and girl within a ten foot radius would be jumping at the chance to have his attention.

you’re point is proven right in the next three seconds. you can already spot girls batting their eyelashes at him. you can see them trying to coerce him into a dance. on any other day you’d scoff at their fawning over an asshole like rayne.

however, you can’t seem to bring yourself to say that tonight. rayne’s half blonde, half jet black hair is styled in a wet curtain cut with long loose strands falling in front of his forehead. he wears a black two piece suit with the coat sporting various decorations.

there are two sets of silver chains that are pinned just below each one of his shoulders. each set is comprised of five chains. one directly connects a line between two metallic circles. two chains of varying lengths begin at one button before swooping a short distance down the front of rayne’s coat before linking back to the second circle that hangs lower than its counterpart. the remaining three chains follow the same pattern except they droop down the side of his arm, nearing the peak of the dip at the middle of his upper arm and rising back up to the coat’s shoulder pads that have sleek silver suns on top of them.

under the jacket, the visionary dons a white dress shirt that is tucked into his pants. however, the piece is damn near transparent, and the top buttons remain undone, exposing some of the skin of his torso. to finish the look off, rayne wears one singular necklace with a sword pendant.

you hate it, and you hate whoever styled him because tonight he's a dangerously gorgeous devil that's making your heart pound at an embarrassingly alarming rate. your eyes are glued to him no matter how badly your mind screams at you to look away. yet just as you can't tear your gaze away from him, rayne is equally unable to focus on anyone else that isn't you.

he inhales a deep breath of air before carving a path to your position at the food table. the alarms in your head go off in panic. you can't exactly play off the fact that you were so blatantly ogling him so instead you own up to it, masking your flustered expression with a glare in his direction.

"well if it isn't the devil himself." you taunt when he nears, soaking in the half blonde's formal look one more time. "what made you decide to crawl out of hell tonight?"

"i could ask you the same thing." rayne answers bluntly, and you scowl because he knows that you hate when he turns your snarky comments back on you.

"why'd i even bother?" you roll your eyes with a scoff, directing your attention to bite-size appetizers in front of you.

"let me know when you find the answer to that." the visionary responds, causing a muscle in your cheek to twitch in irritation.

rayne doesn’t move from his spot. in fact, he’s standing so close to you that your arm brushes against the black fabric of his coat and the cold silver chains on the side of his arm.

"can you move?" you snap, annoyed because now your senses are being filled with his scent—an intoxicating mix of cinnamon and cardamom that makes your mind go fuzzy.

"i can't have food?" rayne cockily raises an eyebrow at you before randomly picking up a tomato basil puff off the plate. he chews it thoughtfully, and through the micro expressions of his face, you come to understand that he is pleased with its taste.

you bundle your fists tightly to release some of your nerves. a breath of air enters your lungs to steady yourself. you remind yourself to not get swept up in his games. rayne ames will not ruin your night. all of these affirmations lead you to the decision to leave him by the food table.

however before you can do that, the music slows to an end, and people take it as a sign to scramble for a partner before the next piece starts up again. as for you, you're immediately confronted by a tall blonde boy in your grade. he kindly extends a hand out to you that’s shaking very discreetly. "may i have this dance?"

you mentally grimace because you're still on edge due to rayne, but you don't have the heart to turn the guy down when he so obviously worked up the courage to come up to you. reluctantly, you accept his offer with a meager nod, and as he takes you by the hand, you involuntarily glance back at rayne, who has been staring the entire interaction down like a hawk.

the boy leads you to an open spot on the dance floor and doesn't hesitate to take the lead once a graceful waltz composition begins. you try to pay attention to the guy's little ramblings about duelo as you glide across the floor, but your mind wanders back to rayne.

what would it be like to have his hand on your back or your hand interlocked with his? would it light a blaze upon your skin? why do you even want to find out?

your eyes drift across the expanse of the enormous ballroom, scanning for that half blonde pain in your ass. after several moments of searching, you find rayne standing off to the side, back leaned against one of the pillars. he switched his food out for apple cider in a champagne glass. he stands with max land and other faces you aren't familiar with. whatever conversation they're having, rayne isn't following; his sole focus is on you and only you.

there's something dark lurking beneath his eyes. the intensity of his gaze generates shivers down the line of your spine. you think that the glass in his hands might shatter in his grip.

"are you alright?" your partner questions, and it brings your concentration back onto him. "are you cold?"

you present him a tight grin. "i'm good. you don't have to worry about me."

the boy in front of you accepts your answer without any suspicion and continues leading the dance until the song finally comes to an finishes. yet even when the waltz ends, and you thank your partner for the dance, he sticks by you. that's fine. he’s a nice guy who means no harm, but because you're severely distracted right now, he is the last thing on your mind.

he gently guides you through the room, keeping a hand on the small of your back protectively as you squeeze between the crowd. you force yourself to engage in conversation with the friends he introduces you to. you laugh at the appropriate times and give your two cents into a topic should it be deemed necessary, all in attempt to ignore the burning sensation of eyes drilling into the back of your neck. each time you catch him, rayne doesn't dare to avert his gaze. he’s shameless in that matter. he'll maintain this eye contact with you until you're the first one to tear away with your face a burning mess.

as the night progresses, you're losing the patience to withstand it. the guy in front of you. rayne. thoughts of rayne. your head is swirling in confusion, and you need new air and silence in order to calm yourself.

when you're sure rayne isn't watching, you dismiss yourself from your partner with a pathetic excuse that you need to quickly use the washroom that he buys instantaneously. and when the crowd hides you completely, you sneak off in the total opposite direction of the restroom.

you navigate your way through the venue until you find the exit that leads to gardens in the back. you pay no mind to party raging behind you, only straying yourself further and further from the noise until you're met with silence. it's only then that you're able to feel your heart slowing down it's pace.

you continue wandering until you find a gazebo hidden deep within the gardens. the structure is surrounded by flowers of varying colors and species. its posts are wrapped in vibrantly green vines. there are no seats built into it, but it will have to suffice as a place to rest and cool your head.

you lean back into one of the wooden posts, shutting your eyes as you inhale the scent of cold, wet, grassy air. when the brewing storm in your mind finally calms, all that remains is a certain divine visionary.

never in all of your years of knowing rayne ames would you have ever thought your emotions involving him would end up conflicting like this. you loathe him; you have since the day you met. so you can't seem to fathom what changed tonight. can it really be all because of a mere suit and new styling of his hair? how pathetic.

and his eyes… those damn yellow eyes that follow your every move. how can they ignite a fury of butterflies in your stomach?

and you don't even have the time to figure it out before your ears pick up on the sound of frantic footsteps and rattling chains that encroach closer and closer to you. your eyes fling wide open, and your body instantly freezes at the sight before you.

rayne ames stands in front of the garden gazebo, chest quickly rising and falling as he pants out breaths that turn visible in the cold winter air. his styled hair isn't as kept as it was before. it's lost its volume and his loose strands of hair cling to his skin, most likely due to the thin coat of sweat that you can barely see under the dim moonlight. yet, he still looks so incredibly breathtaking. the half blonde's eyebrows are brought together in a mix of relief and worry, and you don't know what to make of it.

you don't get it anymore. what is he doing? what is his goddamn game? why, just why, is he standing before you?

the reason behind rayne’s appearance at the winter ball is so incredibly petty that he’s ashamed to even admit it out loud. he had overheard a blonde on the duelo team claim that he was going to dance with you that night.

the irritation that arose in the pits of his stomach during that moment could not be described. did that fool really think he stood a chance with you? you were completely out of his league.

the thought of you dancing with another man haunted rayne for days. each time it crossed his mind, he’d get so annoyed that he’d snap the quill he was writing with into two pieces.

it was stupidly impulsive to come to this ridiculous school ball. rayne knew that, but a part of him was desperate to find out what would happen. could the blond fool pull it off, and what were you going to do if he did? he's well-aware that you aren't his lover or his friend, and yet that didn't seem to stop him from being concerned about matters involving you.

it’s truly a puzzle because rayne is so positive of the fact that he hates you, but the moment he walked through the entrance, all certainty of that fact became debatable again.

he stands before you, separated by the crowd of students who are just as shocked as you are. he can tell that you hadn’t expected for this. and with your eyes locked onto each other, you both enter a new dimension—one where everyone else fades away.

in a sea of blurred, barely present faces, you are the only one that was clear, a face so beyond the words of beautiful. rayne feels like he had the air knocked out of his lungs. is his heart speeding up, or is it stopping? he can’t tell anymore. he’s losing his senses. to combat that, he takes a deep breath of air.

rayne doesn’t even see the girls tugging at his arms or the guys trying to start up a conversation. it’s only you, and like an iron attracted to a magnet, his feet pull him to where you are before he has the chance to realize it.

you’re quick with your snarky comments that attempt to drag him, but even then, you're beautiful. it's baffling how hopeless of a fool he is for you. it’s a miracle that rayne has half the mind to retort your jabs, and he is definitely glad that the food table acted as a cover up.

however, the visionary’s mood sours when that damn blond duelo player comes up to you, asking for a dance a whole lot earlier than he anticipated. rayne can’t make out your expression, but he does notice the nod of your head and the way you extend your hand to slide onto his, but not without giving the half blond a glance back.

rayne's gripping the edge of the table so tightly his knuckles go white. as you leave, another girl walks up to rayne, and he flat out ignores her, picking off a champagne glass from a server that happens to walk by him.

trying to cool his head, rayne ames finds max land in a matter of seconds, and he opts to stick by him. he doesn’t engage in any form of conversation with max, despite the multiple times his best friend has been trying to get his attention.

he'll apologize for it later, but every drop of focus that rayne possesses is on you as you move along the floor. the blond is talking your ear off, and the visionary is aware that you aren't fully listening because your eyes keep drifting back to him.

the fact that rayne doesn’t ever tear his eyes off you has you looking away in nervousness. it’s so unlike you. you’re always so confident in your confrontations against him, but it appears to be different tonight. it seems like everything is.

the longer he stares the more rayne hates the hand that is gently wrapped around yours. he hates the smiles that the blond duelo pulls from you simple because he is simply not worthy of them. he hates that even after the stupid waltz is over you're dragged to meet his friends.

the visionary has no right to be feeling like this, especially after all the verbal arguments and harsh words. but each time you look at him tonight with those star-filled eyes, rayne swears that he'll make it up to you for the rest of your lives.

"rayne, the suit is amazing. where'd you get it from? i haven't seen anything like it." one of max's friends asks, which finally drags the half blond's attention away from you.

"ryoh grantz." he replies dryly.

"you got this from the light cane?!"

"that's what i said, didn't i?" the visionary glares, visibly annoyed.

"oh. y-yeah." the guy chuckles awkwardly, rubbing the nape of his neck. it's then when he realizes that any attempt of conversation with rayne ames is futile so he switches the topic.

when the half blond drags his eyes back to you, he nearly loses grip on the champagne glass that he's been holding for a while. "she's gone." rayne mutters to himself, yet somehow over all the noise, max hears him.

max land peers over the crowd, finding the spot where you last stood. the blondie you were with is huddled with his friends, but you are no longer in sight. the brown haired boy hums. "i think your staring scared her off."

rayne narrows his eyes at his friend who only raises his hands in defense. the divine visionary scans the entire room, expecting you to be gathered with a different group of people, but you're not. you're not in here at all. "damn it." he curses with a hiss, ditching max to search for you.

if his best friend protests or calls for rayne, he doesn't hear it. max is the least of his concerns right now.

he leaves the empty glass onto the nearest table and begins a distraught search. he does a lap around the entire room, thinking that it'll make you appear again, but his efforts bear no fruit. he wanders up and down the halls, giving everyone he passes a quick glance, only to find that they're not you.

rayne finds an entrance that leads to the back gardens, and he's praying that you're somewhere there. he doesn't know how long he spends running around. his dress shirt is sticking to his skin, and his hair is falling out of place. the venue for the ball is so far behind him to the point that he can't even hear the music or noisy chatter anymore.

despite the burn in his calves, he pushes deeper into the gardens, jogging until a gazebo catches his eye. it's hard to see in the moonlight, but rayne swears that he sees the shadow of a figure. it's his last hope; he's praying that it's you.

the half blond jogs up to the steps. the chains of his suit rattle as he does so. he realizes then that it is you. relief, worry, and anger hit him all at once, but in your eyes, he can't say the same. there is no malice, only confliction, and rayne decides right then and there.

he's going to open his heart to you.

"what are you doing here, rayne?" you ask, practically defeated.

"what about you?" he snaps back harsher than he ever has before. he takes angry steps up the stairs. "it's fucking freezing, and you decide to come out here alone. do you even realize how far the venue is right now? do you know how much i was-" rayne stops himself mid-sentence, curling his fists by his side.

"no, tell me." you demand, walking closer to him. "what is it? you are always so blunt. what's stopping you now, huh? spit it out."

"i was worried about you." he answers quietly.

your heart swells when you hear it, but you choose to suppress it instead because that can't possibly be right. "worried?! why on earth would you ever be worried about me? you hate me, rayne ames, and i hate you. all we ever do is torment each other. it's exactly why you kept staring at me tonight. i couldn't focus on anything but you. that's what you wanted, right? you wanted me off my guard? well, congratulations asshole. you won. now leave me alone."

"no." the boy in front of you sternly denies.

"no? god, you have some fucking nerve-" you fume.

"i'm not leaving you alone." rayne clenches his jaw, staring deep into your eyes. you force yourself to swallow. "i haven't left you alone since the day we met, and i'm not leaving you alone now."

you scoff, trying to push past rayne, but he blocks your path. "move, rayne."

he ignores you altogether. "you want to know why i'm so worried about you, hm? here's your answer." rayne's voice is low, almost dangerous as he speaks. he steps closer to you, nearly pressing your bodies together. the heat that radiates off him is electrifying.

"you've been stuck in my head for the last week, and it's all because of that blond buffoon on the duelo team." rayne scowls. "i heard him. i knew that he wanted to dance with you, and it pissed me off. i couldn't imagine his hand on your back or his hand on yours without feeling my blood boil, and i hated every second that you were with him tonight. it was torture."

"jealousy?" you breathe out, trying to belittle him as you do so, but you fail miserably when your eyes dart to rayne's lips. "you might as well be obsessed with me."

"maybe i am." rayne's hand reaches up to trail the pearls of your necklace. his hand then moves further up your neck, fingers gently tickling your skin as they pass before resting on the side of your throat. "i might've been obsessed with you the moment your pretty little mouth started talking back to me. hell, i might even be in love with you."

in that moment, you feel your breath hitch. your eyes open wider in disbelief, and that doesn't deter the divine visionary in front of you at all. you try reading him, trying to find any sort of sign that this whole thing is a joke, but deep down you know. you said it yourself moments earlier. rayne's honest and blunt to a fault. he wouldn't say something he doesn't mean.

"the sight of you is enough to bring a man to his knees. you have me wrapped around your finger, (y/n). just say the word, and i'll be yours."

you don't know when rayne's face had gotten so close, but you can feel his breath fanning along yours. you can indulge in that cardamum and cinnamon scent that brings your brain to a high.

"rayne..." you whisper, brushing the loose strands of hair away from his forehead even though they return to the same place they were once before.

and as he admires you with those eyes, eyes that look at you as if you created the world and spun it on its axis, you surrender. you close the gap between the two of you because you're tired.

you're tired of acting like the thought that you want him has never crossed your mind. you're tired of acting like he's isn't stupidly hot whenever he puts you in your place, you're tired of pretending that you've never wanted to slam your lips against his just to shut him up.

rayne said he might've been obsessed with you from the moment you started arguing with him. well, you might've been obsessed with him when you realized that he wasn't going to tolerate any of your attitude. it's probably why you constantly picked fights with him. all the tension and unspoken words and lust came as a result. it was bound to boil over eventually.

you told yourself to not get swept up in him, and yet here you are, completely drowning. you chase each other like you're both starved. the kiss so desperate and powerful that rayne backs you up into one of the gazebo posts. the contact makes you gasp, and rayne uses it as an opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. you'll have to press him about this later. for a guy who avoids women like the plague, he sure knows how to kiss you to euphoria.

your senses are so overloaded that you grip onto the open fabric of rayne's white dress shirt to keep you up. it effectively pulls him closer, making him groan. you lightly trail your nails down the exposed skin of his chest. you feel the visionary shiver before you, and you know that he's putty in your hands. you continue that path down, feeling the faint outline of his abs through his shirt.

rayne pulls away only to continue burning hot kisses down your neck and onto your collarbone. he nips and sucks on your skin, and you know that it's sure to leave marks, but in the moment, you can't help but whine his name. you let him have his fun until the feeling of missing his lips on yours is overbearing.

you force rayne up by his chin, and he almost looks disappointed. you smirk once you notice the smearing of lipstick on his face and the uneven rhythm of his breathing.

"what a mess you are." you tease, toying with rayne's bottom lip with your thumb.

"do you really have to do this right now?" rayne complains lightheartedly, all while placing kisses onto the inside of your palm, making you giggle.

"always." you wink, and your hands wander back down to his chest. "kiss me?"

rayne cups one half of your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb. "always." he replies, diving into the addiction that is you once more.

@kyoghurts @seneon hey...

[ninthcircleofprythian]

Kiss - Don't Tell

Cassian/Azriel

Word Count - 2.8k

Summary - after a wild threesome months ago - Cas and Az get a little curious what things would be like without a third party involved.

Warnings - SMUT, m/m smut, mutual masturbation, cocks (no insertion), ass play, what do you want me to say? Its smut.

The night was still young, the sun barely losing the touch of color in the sky as Azriel dropped down onto the plush sofa in his chambers. The fire was already stoked to a steady, calming flicker as he settled comfortably into the cushions with a book, propping his legs onto the ottoman before him. It might have been early to be tucking in for the night, but Azriel was relishing in the quiet of the first night off he had had in months. 

The minutes ticked by in glorious silence but just as he had reached the cliffhanger of a chapter ending, the door to his bedroom swung open, not even a knock of warning. 

“I’m bored,” Cassian sighed as he flopped backwards onto Az’s bed. 

“Here,” Az uttered with irritation as he reached to the table beside him. “Read something. Expand your mind or something.”

Cas sat up and eyed the novel that was tossed onto the empty half of the furniture. Az hadn’t even bothered to look up as he flipped the page nonchalantly, returning to his book. 

“Don’t you have some enemy spy we can play with or something?,” Cas quipped as he meandered over to the sofa. He briefly peered over the shoulder before him, feigning interest in the book Az was reading. 

“They aren’t toys, Cas,” Azriel responded without a glance in his direction. “And I don’t play with them. I interrogate them.” Another casual flip of the page accentuated his words. 

“Yeah, but you have to admit, it's a little fun poking at them though.” Cassian mimicked holding a dagger in his hand as he rounded to sit on the sofa, jabbing in Azriel’s direction with a smirk.

Again, Az’s attention was unwavering. His eyes continued to scan the page as he ignored Cas’s attempts to derail his relaxing evening. Flopping down now on the sofa, Cassian grabbed the book left out for him. Lounging back with a foot landing on Az’s lap, he fluttered through the pages without any actual attempt to take in the book’s contents before slamming the cover shut with a snap. Still no reaction from the other end of the seat, Cassian sighed heavily.

“Have you ever thought about….no, nevermind,” Cassian said as he slid his arm under his head. 

“What?,” Az asked, still reading.

“Remember that night a few months ago?,” Cas began. “After Rita’s? When we brought that cute little redhead home with us?”

Now he had Az’s attention. Lowering his book, he peered over with a curious gaze. “Yeah. What about it?”

“Well, you know. She was kinda wild wasn’t she?” Cas winked with a smile. “It got a little wilder than our other threesomes, remember?”

Az took a moment, reflecting. He remembered that night well, very well. The cute little redhead had been nearly frothing at the mouth at the idea of bedding two Illyrians at once. And they had been more than happy to oblige. Once things had started heating up, it had become clear that it wasn’t just the idea of two males fawning over her that brought her pleasure, but the idea of two males in general. With or without her. She had asked them to take turns watching as the other pleasured her, but she seemed more enamored with watching the third palming his own cock at the show than the one between her legs. Before the night was over, she had them all tightly pressed together, tongues clashing for hers. Their cocks held tightly in her hands, pressed side by side.

“Yeah, and…,” Az drew out in response as the details of the memory lingered.

“Well,” Cas drew out the word in similar fashion as he rose to sitting. “Have you ever thought about – I don’t know. Kissing? Like – you and me?”

Az reeled back for a fraction of a second in shock before steeling his face into impassivity. “Um, what?,” his voice piped out in a squeak despite his impartial face. 

“I don’t know – it’s just,” Cas stammered, running a hand through his hair to release some tension. “After that night, I mean – I kinda got a little curious. You’re telling me you haven’t thought about it at all?”

Azriel’s body was deadly still, every muscle matching the ones in his face holding that impassive stare. The silence held as Cas sat just as still, gauging the body language across from him before throwing up his hands.

“Forget it. Forget I ev–”

“I’ve thought about it,” Az interjected quietly. “All the time.” Those last three words left his lips in a whisper, his face unchanged. 

It was Cassian’s turn to stop, motionless. His body felt like a live wire inside but every inch of him remained wholly still. Their eyes locked across the distance between them, breaths shallow and quick. Suddenly, they were both moving. It was impossible to tell who moved first, but it hardly mattered. 

In a frenzy of arms, they met in the middle of the sofa, lips crashing together, hands grasping at shoulders and tangling in hair. Lips sliding smoothly over each other, their tongues lashed against one another, deeper into the recesses of each other’s mouths. 

Cas pulled back for just a moment, long enough to nip a teasing bite to Az’s bottom lip. The resounding moan that sounded from his chest had him returning with intensity, hand gripping at Az’s neck to press him closer. 

His scarred hands grazed lower, trailing down Cassian’s back before landing roughly at his waist. A bruising squeeze of his fingers left Cas gasping a sharp inhale before shifting his leg. Pulling his knee to the other side of Az’s hip, he settled again, practically sitting in Az’s lap. 

Lips crashing together once more, the breath exchanged between them had reached a fever pitch, quick and panting, swallowed into one another. One of Azriel’s hands began wandering once more as Cas’s own gripped along his firm back. Slipping further, Az’s textured palm met one tight ass cheek, his thumb tracing soothing circles. 

The sensation left Cas’s muscles moving of their own accord as his hips bucked gently against the body in front of him. Pulling back for just a moment, he drank in a breath trying to calm his racing heart. The effort was futile however as Cassian dove back in, this time latching onto the side of Azriel’s glistening neck.

With a groan, Az clenched his hand along Cas’s backside, the other pulling roughly at the roots of his hair. Sliding his palm along his hip, he reached for the laces along the front of Cas’s pants while his other arm clutched Cas’s head deeper into his neck. 

Another involuntary twitch cascaded through his hips as he bucked into Az’s front. “Fuck…,” he moaned into the soft tattooed skin of his neck before pulling away..

Azriel’s hand dropped instantly to Cas’s shoulder, the other resting against his thigh. 

“Az –,” Cas panted out, questioning.

Everything stopped. The kissing, the licking, the breathing. Only the sound of the fire still crackling sounded as they sat pressed together, staring intensely at each other. Two sets of hazel eyes roamed over the other’s face, scanning for what their next move should be. 

The moment was broken as Az gave a testing swipe of his thumb over the laces and Cassian inhaled sharply. “Az.,” Cas’s voice sighed, not a question but a plea.

“Shut up,” Az whispered as he dove back in to kiss him, his hand returning in a flurry to the laces. Both of them lost in the moment, Cas didn’t even notice the sheet of shadow that enveloped them until his body met the mattress. 

Laid out on his side, Cas didn’t even pause. Az quickly propped himself up on one elbow, leaning into the hurried clashing of tongues once more as the laces finally fell open. Cas was now the one reaching at Az’s front. Shifting closer, Az shimmied his hips to allow him better access as he freed Cas’ cock from its confines. 

Cassian whined as a hand wrapped fully around his aching length, his own hands still fumbling at the pants before him. Frustration and elation flooded through him as his tongue darted out, licking a quick swipe to Az’s chest before landing a bite to his pec. 

A growl rumbled through the chest beneath his lips as Az lowered his other hand and offered assistance in freeing his own cock. As the twitching length broke free, Cas pulled away, breaking the hold that Az’s lips had on his throat.

He paused, enamored. Not because he had never beheld the sight before him before now, but because this time, he would get to touch. Fingers trembling, Cas dragged his fingertips feather-light up the soft shaft. 

Azriel hissed a breath in through his teeth, cock twitching harder. Reaching the tip, Cas wrapped his own wide palm around it with a squeeze. Az moaned loudly before rolling his head forward and biting down on the bulging muscle of Cas’s shoulder. 

Both of them aching in each other’s hand, their movements began to match. Slow, languid strokes to the other’s cock as they panted into each other’s bodies. Tongues trailing along skin, teeth nipping at every squeeze. 

The tension building between them was too much to bear and Az pawed at Cassian’s hip, pulling him roughly to the front of his body. Their grasps dropped as both of their cocks lined up together, side by side. The heat radiating between them felt almost electric.

Watching the movement of his own hand, gaze full of the sight before him, Cassian opened his hand wide, grabbing both of their lengths together and pulling one testing stroke. Lowering his forehead to Az’s chest he moaned, from the depths of his belly as Az released a choking sound into his ear. The need to move, kiss, bite – anything – raged through him. His hips bucked into Cas’s grasp as his mouth found purchase on the weathered skin of his neck. The nip he landed sure to leave a bruise tomorrow.

Cas’s strokes didn’t waver even as the sting of the bite hit. His hand continued, picking up the pace slowly as beads of precum now leaked down between their rigid cocks. His tongue tracing along every bit of available skin, Az moved his hand to Cas’s ass once more. Grasping and grabbing, fingertips dancing along the split of his backside. 

Releasing a ragged moan at a particularly rough stroke, the shadows swirled around their joined members, grabbing Cas’s wrist at Az’s direction and halting his movements. Before a protest could be uttered, Az pulled at his hip with surprising strength and had him rolled onto his belly. 

No thoughts stopped him. Moving on instinct, Cas pulled his knees under himself, raising his backside toward the male behind him. Just as he has his body planted firmly, a knee slid between his own, knocking them further apart. He can’t help but chuckle a bit to himself thinking about if this is how his dates felt when he brought them home to bed.

“What’s so funny?,” Az questioned as he took his cock in hand, fingertips gathering the rivulets of shared fluids and slicking them down his shaft. 

“Nothing,” Cas chuckled again. The searing heat of Az’s cock settling between his spread cheeks took his breath away with a guttural moan. “Nothing at all,” he whispered, dropping his head into the pillow before him.

The pace began unhurried, but quickly picked up into the quickness of need. Cas’s knees slipped further apart as he attempted desperately to find some sort of friction, his cock twitching at every thrust at his backside. Firm hands landed loudly on the globes of his ass as Azriel pushed them together, creating more friction along his shaft. The twitching of his cock became more of a painful jump and Cassian lowered his head, peering under his body to watch. The hard aching length of himself, red and impossibly swollen, a steady drip of precum leaked onto the bed below him. Every pump of the male behind him had it throbbing with need. 

The desperation for some friction raged through him, but before he could shift a hand free, Az leaned down over him, mindful of his wings. Like he could read his mind, he reached around and repeated the motion from before. Fingers slicking through Cas’ fluids, he pulled a stroke down his full length, coating him. The strength of each pull, the twist over the tip, Cas was a mess. Arms shaking, face pressed into the pillow again, he screamed as he arched his back deeper into Az. 

The thrusts started to stutter before slowing nearly to a halt, Az panting hard. With the push of his free hand against the bow of Cas’ back, he sat up into a kneel. 

“Should – should I –,” he stuttered.

Pushing up on his forearms, Cas looked back over his shoulder to find Az palming his cock. Slow and measured as their eyes met. 

“Let me,” Cas rasped out, voice broken from his earlier screaming. “I wanna see those eyes, pretty boy”

Azriel’s hand on his cock halted, still grasping. “Fuck. Cas, can you be serious for once.”

“What? I am serious,” he said with a genuine smile as he turned to face him. “You are pretty.” Both in a kneel facing each other, Cas knocked Az’s knees wider and placed his body into his lap, one leg hooking over his hip. “And I do want to see those eyes,” he whispered softly.

Their cocks touching once more, lined up side by side, Cas gave one rolling thrust into the hard plane of Az’s stomach. Az’s hand opened, releasing his own cock to now encompass them both. The grip that surrounded them had Cas thrusting harder a couple more times before he too reached down, palm opposite the other and joined the grasp.

Squeezing together in tandem, both males thrust into each other, tips trailing along the lines of defined muscle that grace their bodies.

“Fuck,” Az moaned leaning into the shoulder in front of him. “Cassian.”

Cas felt his cock trying to twitch but the hands around them both prevented the movement, he could feel each beat of Az’s heart in his palm as he applied even more pressure, both of them still thrusting.

“That’s it,” Cas whined.

Feeling the grip tighten, Az responded in kind leaving Cas gasping out a moan that sounded more like a sob. 

“That’s it,” he wailed, lowering his head onto Az’s chest, watching a trickle of cum beginning to crest over his tip. Thrusting harder now, he watched as that trail became smeared over Azriel’s abs and lost all his control. With a crying shout, Cas came. Thick white streams shot onto the defined abs of Az’s stomach.

The heat of Cas’ release meeting his skin was Az’s undoing. Just as Cas’ gaze swiveled up to meet his, hazel eyes so similar to his own, Az followed behind him. Cocks still gripped tightly together, Cassian’s hand was still moving in time with his, a guttural roar left his body as his release painted over Cas’ front. 

His cock had already begun to soften some, but the feeling of Az’s come landing on his body had his entire body jerking with the pulse of his cock filling with blood once more. The only thing he could hear was his own heartbeat as it roared in his ears, Az’s forehead meeting his shoulder. 

Both their hands now fell from their cocks, scrabbling for purchase on the body before them. Hands grasping at shoulders and tangled in hair as they caught their racing breath. 

The next morning came quicker than it felt it should have. Three Illyrians had trudged into the clearing outside the bounds of Velaris at Rhys’ insistence that they gather before the sunrise. The sun now hung well above the horizon and the heat beat down strongly on the two still grappling in the makeshift ring.

Rhys stood off to the side, drinking his fill of water after taking on both Cassian and Az individually once already. He watched as the punches landed seemed harder than usual, the dodges more swift and the retaliation more brutal. He just laughed to himself as he watched them spar with a renewed vigor even after multiple rounds this morning.

“You two should just kiss already and get it over with,” he shouted across the clearing. “Save us all some time.”

Cassian’s laugh rang loudly in response as he smirked at Az, still in defense posture across from him, fists raised. 

“Hear that Az?,” he asked in a low drone. “We should just kiss.”

Az’s glower deepened. “Shut up,” he snapped before taking him down in a tackle to the hips and pinning him to the ground.

[dancingdonatello]

Hi!! I know you did something similar already, but I wanted to see if we could do something just for Rise! Leo?

I was thinking Leo with a S/O (or friend) who compliments him all the time and fawns over him every time he does something cool? But reader doesn’t usually think twice about it, it just feels natural to compliment him! Because he’s super pretty and cool and fun and reader needs him to know that!

The thing is tho, that reader kinda just does it and then goes about her day like nothing happened, so I wonder how Leo would feel about it lol

Thank you!

rise leo x gn reader

Leo doesn’t even want to learn new skateboard tricks. He just does it to impress you at this point.

You don’t know this, but his brothers definitely do. So anytime they see him with his beaten up skateboard, they groan and roll their eyes.

Whatever. It’s all worth it in the end. So what if his knees are all bruised and he sprained his wrist?

You’d be super impressed by this one. You usually were whenever he did anhrninf on his skateboard… or anything at all, really. But this one trick would be cooler than the rest.

He had called you over ahead of time, hoping you’d stumble into the lair right when he lands his trick. He even got Don to set up a program on his phone so that it buzzes when you get close.

No. He’s not obsessed. At all.

His phone buzzed. You were close by, probably just about to come into the room he was in. It was time.

He flew down the ramp on his skateboard, quickly heading up the one in front of it and flipping into the air.

He stumbled when he landed, but it was alright.

He heard clapping. He decided to look up just then, giving you a faked embarrassed expression.

“Wow, Leo. That was awesome!” He grinned, holding his hand out. You fist-bumped him with an equally as happy smile.

Yes!

He patted himself on the back, tail wagging even as you meandered away without even knowing how much you meant to him.