#go read turn y'all who haven't

[romanticatheartt]

I’m pretty new to the fandom but am I the only one who doesn’t think Feyre’s been sidelined? We had 4 books of her as the only or main POV where the series very obviously resolved around her then one spinoff book where she’s not the main character but feysand are clearly the next most prominent characters in the book after nessian and even though the pregnancy plot isn’t well liked, it doesn’t change the fact that so much of nesta’s healing arc and the kickoff of her journey, the rock bottom, and climax of it in book revolve around her relationship with feyre. We even see feyre having so high lady moments even though nesta is avoiding her for parts.

And then I thought given the story that sjm ended up writing for CC3, it’s obvious why feyre isn’t there- she wanted Bryce to use the mask and needed nesta to give it to her and for Bryce to be skeptical of prythian. Feyre is not born fae, ruler of NC, and less prickly then both Az and Nesta (and Amren and Rhys even), she’d hurt the distrusting conflict and wouldn’t give the mask like nesta without getting more involved (at least involving Rhys). I suspect sjm wanted a different plot at first but decided to change it and maybe it’s because she didn’t want the acotar side to take over (Bryce even considers asking Rhys for help because he’s so strong but decides against it because she can’t trust him not to become a conqueror). I thought it was purposeful that the friendliest members of the IC were basically absent. She may even be saving aspects of that original plot for a larger team up later, maybe in an acotar book since prythian’s (and Feyre/Rhys/the high lord’s) power is given such focus. It’s not even an acotar book, like should Az’s greater presence in it be seen as a sign that he’s more important than Rhys in acotar?

If the next book comes out and feyre is just not a factor, I’d get it more. But I just don’t see what’s got everyone convinced sjm isn’t interested in feyre or whatever.

People talking about Feyre being sidelined in acosf are just looking for something to hate lol because even I knew Feyre wasn't going to be the main character when sjm made pretty clear this is Nesta's/Nessian's book. Feyre doesn't even have a pov in acosf ffs (except that bonus chapter) and still, she has an important role in Nesta's book because she's the biggest part of Nesta's guilt and self-hatred. And yes in my recent semi-reread of acosf there are so many times that we see Feyre as High Lady (and I absolutely love those!!)

Like you said I'm not too fond of Feyre's pregnancy plot either and I think it shouldn't have been in Nesta's book and it definitely shouldn't have been used as a redemption arc for Nesta. In other words, both Nesta and Feyre deserved better than this. Feyre deserved a beautiful pregnancy after all she's been through and Nesta deserved a better journey where other characters weren't used for her, the focus should've been on her and her relationship with others.

Now about CC I was one of those people who wanted to see more Feyre and were disappointed. Not because I think she was sidelined, no. But because I expected to see her at least in one scene? I mean it could be totally because of my love Feyre that I wanted to see her again, that's my only disappointment and not because I think she should've had a big role or something.

I expected Nesta to have some major role in CC (not this much tho) and for Azriel, I fully anticipated him to be an important character because of Truthteller and Bryce bringing Starsword with her. I still think sjm focused on these two a lot because even after CC people are more focused on acotar characters than the CC characters. And if Feyre had joined the focus of readers would've completely been on acotar so now after 7 months I think sjm did the right thing. Feyre being a mother is a nasty way for the fandom to talk about their displeasure and bring down Feyre for being a mother which isn't surprising at all since everyone thinks she's now "less cool" because of it.

Now about Azriel, I don't think he's more important than Rhys (call me biased idc lmao😭 and my beef with him) I think the reason why he's so focused on, is because he's going to have the next book. We're going to see his back story and how he's possessing TT and who is going to possess Starsword (and as I said before I think it's going to be Gwyn and she's going to be a Starborn because we have no idea who her father is so sjm can put anyone as her father) and I know some think Azriel is the Starborn and I THINK NOT!!! Idk how to explain it, I just know he's not hehe :D

I think Feyre is still going to be in the next books because she's the main character of the series and she's still a high lady after all, but it will be something like acosf. And I think she's going to have a same amount of page time (lol) in Elucien book like she had in acosf.

[11cupids-tarot11]

18+ What has your future spouse been dreaming about lately?

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Pile 1- The Hermit, Ten of Wands, Knight of Coins, Ten of Cups, Knight of Coins, and The Sun.

Oracle cards- "Let there be closeness between you, but always give each other space. Love never claims, it simply allows and gives."

"It is important right now to take a step back and spend some time alone. Instead of placing your focus on another, now is the time to give to yourself."

Okay, so right away I feel lots of sexual energy from your person 🙈 like they're gonna be very sexual towards you and have a high sex drive I feel like. I think they really like your back side, I feel like doggy style is one of their favorite positions lol this person has a few favorites I'm hearing 😀 lmao. This is someone who is going to make you blush a lot, like they're very flirty and physical touch might be their love language. I'm seeing someone who just can't keep their hands to themselves, they're gonna always be holding you, all over your body even while having sex or even if you two are just cuddling on the couch.

This person wants to get you alllll alone lol I just heard "all to myself". You could know this person? This person seems to want to plan a day with just you two lol I heard "gemme a hug" so see, this person wants to hug you as soon as they see you! Lol they're very handsy.

This could be someone you haven't seen in awhile, for some.

They're working on their finances right now! Like just piled in it lol, they want to work really hard to impress you! Take you out on nice fancy dates! They want to wine and dine you. They could dream and fantasize about taking a vacation with you, like disappear on everyone and just get away for awhile with just you two ;) they want to deepen y'all connection I heard within this time, not only sexually but emotionally as well, like real emotional support like a partner would. They want to know everything about you, they're that type. They want to lay in bed all day just listening to you talk. Real sweet energy! Your person might be more of a smooth talker than a dirty talker. I feel like just the way he makes you feel alone will turn you on vs him having to talk to you like some kind of porn star to get you turned on, so you'll probably find this person hot a lot 🤣 like you'll always just want to drag them off somewhere yk? LMAO I'm blushing, I think you're both going to be equally attracted and enamored with the other! Y'all's energy is so sexual together it's too much for me. Like I feel like if they're a freak in the bed you're also a freak in the bed! Y'all will match each other's energy lol cute! You two will be a freaking adorable couple.

I feel like this person fantasizes about the day they can court you basically loll. I never use the word court that is all them 🤣 they really want to show up to you like the Knight of Coins, like someone who is very stable and strong and just good enough for you basically lol. You might be really hot because they really really want to impress you pile 1 lmao!

I think they fantasize about seeing you naked! They can't wait to? They think you have a nice ass lol. I feel like this person is always smirking! Random lol.

Okay so with the Knight of Coins this person wants to dedicate himself to you >< awww so if he has any flaws that you don't like this person will for sure pull himself together! I'm talking about if this person smokes everyday and if you talk to them about it, they'll work so hard to quit for you! I feel like you're this person's muse! Not only that but I feel like this person fantasizes about being committed to you! They might dream about what it's like to be married to you often!

I feel like this person might have a tougher exterior! So this is why this person loves being around you! They can let down their guard and be themselves and they love that! They can be as affectionate as they want and you two never get sick of each other, that's because you two will work hard on balancing everything out in your lives together! Like work and play, you'll manage work and also have time for them! You guys will be able to spend moments away from each other and not miss the other because of how balanced you guys are, but when you see each other you're all lovey dovey once again still! How sweet omg!! 😭

Okay, I hope you guys liked this reading! Talk soon Angelz🪽💕

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Pile 2- Justice, Ten of Wands, Ace of Swords, Knight of Wands, Ten of Wands, Nine of Cups.

Oracle cards- "Deep in your heart, you already know they answer. Do what feels right."

"Sacred Union- Honor and treasure your relationship, for it is truly sacred."

Ooo lots of air energy. I feel like your person has facial hair, he's very masculine in bed, he likes it when you ride him in his dreams lol. He really really wants you to ride him 🤣 okay anyways let's read your cards now!

There's something about the hair here lol, for some the masculine has darker hair and the feminine has lighter hair and for others the masculine has lighter hair while the feminine has darker hair. Take it how it resonates!

First card out being Justice and I heard something about an orgasm, your person really wants to see you orgasm I hear. Like they want you riding them on top so they can feel it all over their body when you're done. You're person is really intense like sheesh. This person might be older or maybe more experienced in bed than you are, they'll teach you a lot of things so if you're into being submissive they really want you to be their student!

This person is very horny I feel like, I think they're really touch deprived and have "blue balls" they say? 🤣 You're person is making me laugh and blush like crazy they'll always surprise you with the things they'll say!

This person really likes to channel messages directly to you, they probably talk to you a lot. They'll love talking to you! They're so open about their fantasies with you it's crazy! They'll be very direct for sure, they won't beat around the bush. If they're horny they'll probably just flirt with you very directly and let you know they want to fuck you. This person feels very fresh and original actually, very different energy than I usually channel.

So yeah with the ten of wands I feel like your person is very tired right now and just wants to relax with you! This person fantasizes about more so letting you take the lead to make them feel good in bed, like they might fantasize about coming home to you and you're already in bed waiting to please them and help them relax after a long day at work. I don't think your person lets you take the lead often in bed, just when he really wants to relax! His fantasy 😇

This person fantasizes about you bringing them to a climax! 🤣 Riding them till they come basically. I feel like they self pleasure to this idea a lot too lol. I feel like this is more of a secretive dream of theirs too, like people could view them as a very masculine person in bed so when they let you take control it's because they really trust you with that vulnerable side of theirs. Funny because every card that flipped over in the beginning would hide away in my deck again and I'd have to go fishing to see which cards flipped over 🤣 they're shy about telling you this lol.

I feel like this person can't wait to show off their size to you as well, they think it's impressive! ;)

I feel like this person might fantasize about you two doing it in public places? There's an energy or a situation playing out in my head like two people having sex but very sneaky in unusual places while having to watch your back and keep a lookout lol.

With the Knight of Wands I feel like this is someone you might know already for a few, a specific message for someone that this could be someone you've been intimate with before and after they really wanted to pursue some sort of relationship after! It's like they got addicted to you after having you lol.

This person could fantasize about getting you pregnant? They could have a pregnancy kink I'm getting or might even want to get you pregnant to kind of trap you 😵‍💫 express boundaries please if you're not interested in having kids because this person will literally get you pregnant on purpose lol. I feel like they imagine what it would be like to have a family with you, they really want to see you as the mother of their kids! I think they see you as very nurturing so they think you'd make a good mom rather if you want kids or not.

I hope you enjoyed this reading!! Love youuu 🩷

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Pile 3- Six of Wands, Eight of Swords, Two of Cups, King of Wands, Queen of Wands, Ten of Pentacles

Oracle cards- "Healing- Imagine yourself and your beloved surrounded by light. Feel your relationship being healed this very moment."

"Manifesting Miracles- Your dream is soon to become reality. Trust your heart and continue to follow its guidance."

Hi pile 3 😊

So right away I picked up this is someone you could've had a relationship with before and it just didn't work out, I see you missing this person though! Maybe they've recently been on your mind or you've been wanting to reach out to them, but haven't! A specific message for a few.

So I feel like this is a relationship you've been trying to manifest, but I see some difficulties and uncertainty around the relationship and your Oracle cards make me feel like Spirit is saying to keep hope alive about this relationship! I feel like you guys are separated right now for healing purposes, maybe you both have things that you still need to work on within before you can work on the relationship.

With the Eight of Swords I feel like this person really wants to be immersed in you. I feel like this person is big on oral. They fantasize about you two being in a loving and committed relationship, one that's very unproblematic and full of love.

With the Two of Cups I feel like you two will be in union soon, I don't think this is goodbye for you two and I feel like that's the whole purpose of your reading today! Maybe this person fantasizes about coming back into your life, they could even have dreams about texting you and when they wake up they realize they've dreamed it all. I feel like this person tries to actually not think about you lol. These feel more like wishes than daydreams!

I feel like this person prefers to be more dominant in the bedroom lol they like it when you're submissive and give all power to them. They want to make you feel good, I feel like they dream about fucking you and you're just laying there taking it a lot of the time like "dick drunk" lmao.

So yeah I feel like this person is going to really find out what you like, they like bringing your body so much pleasure and I think this person will Intuitively know what you want. They fantasize about you giving them head but also can't wait for the day they can return the favor, I feel like they really want a sexual relationship with you that's very naked and carefree in a way. Like this person will be all up in your business 😭

With the Ten of Pentacles I think this person day dreams about pampering you, they could like to work for your attention/to feel like you're theirs. They might like to buy you lots of things just because you're their girl I'm hearing! You might notice this person buys you gold jewelry a lot or maybe they've already bought you something gold if you know this person.

That's all I'm getting for this pile, I was really hoping for all of the piles to reach the same lengths but I feel like this pile in particular doesn't have much to say 😭

I hope you enjoyed this reading!! Talk soon!!♡

Channeled songs- XO by Enhypen.

[baronessvonglitter]

Halftime Show

Joel Miller, Javier Pena, Dave York, Frankie Morales, Marcus Moreno x f!sexworker!reader (lucky girl)

Word count: 2.7K

Summary: you're an escort hired for a private Super Bowl party hosted by a mysterious client and his four friends

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, reader's work name is "Angel", reader is a sex worker, mildly dubious consent (though she does state that the men can do as they want, it's her first experience in sex work), rough sex (but no violence done to reader), group sex, threesome to sixsome, oral sex (f & m receiving), unprotected p in v sex, double p in v, anal sex & fingering, multiple penetration, hand jobs, face fucking, facial, verbal abuse/humiliation, squirting, swallowing, creampie, spitroasting, reader gets slapped w/a dick for a bit, porn without plot, you know.. all the sweet stuff.

Author's Note: another cross-post from AO3 but honestly, football is barely mentioned so if you want you can ignore the whole Super Bowl aspect. Y'all might know by now I love a little romance in my smut but this particular fic has zero romance. Reader is there to do a job and leaves having done it very well. Also.. I'm considering creating a part 2 featuring more Pedro Boys, so any input on that is welcome!

FULL MASTERLIST | JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST

MARCUS MORENO MASTERLIST | FRANKIE MORALES MASTERLIST

DAVE YORK MASTERLIST | JAVIER PENA MASTERLIST

It's your first day as an escort and you're a little nervous. Okay, a lot nervous. You never know what you're going to expect from clients, but these guys you're about to meet have been pre-screened and even had to turn in blood tests just to be considered as clients. The escort service you work for is very prestigious. You're even driven to the location by a security detail who is tasked to wait outside for you. This makes you feel a little better.

You take a quick look at your outfit before you leave the car. The rule is you show up in character and leave in character. No real names, no background stories, just a persona and an exchange of goods. Simple as that. Should be easy enough.

Taking a deep breath, you exit the car and go up to the front door.

The doorbell rings, and Dave York springs from the sofa, a little smirk on his lips. "Guys, I think she's here," he announces, and the rest of the group look up from the Super Bowl game, groaning when Dave mutes the sound even though it's just gone to commercial.

"Who?" Frankie Morales asks, swigging a beer.

"The halftime entertainment," Dave answers mysteriously.

Marcus Moreno and Joel Miller trade inquisitive glances. Javier Peña raises his brow. He knows what Dave means.

Dave brings you into the living room and you take a quick survey of your surroundings: the home is nicer than most, two stories, decorated tastefully but with an obvious woman's touch. You give him a once-over. He's forty-ish, handsome, clean-shaven.

"The wife got the house in the divorce," Dave tells you, as if reading your mind. "This is my last weekend here, so let's make it count!" He raises his glass of whiskey to the guys, most of whom also salute with their drinks. They are all eyeing you like a pack of dogs that haven't eaten in days.

Marcus, a kind-looking man with dark eyeglasses who gives you Clark Kent vibes, smiles awkwardly at you, blushing. "Aren't you going to introduce us?" he asks Dave politely.

"Angel," you give your working name, smiling at each of the men. They're all cute: some scruffy, some dapper.

Dave smirks. "I'm Dave, and these are my buddies Marcus, Frankie, Joel, and Javier." Each of the guys smiles or nods at you as they're introduced.

"I heard you guys are looking to get wild," you say, opening your winter coat to reveal your see-through lingerie. Joel, Javier, and Dave whoop in excitement. Marcus and Frankie are more reticent but can't take their eyes off you. "What do you plan on doing with little ol' me?" you ask innocently, kneeling on the cushioned ottoman in the middle of the living room. You glide your hands over your body and smile as the men shift in their seats, watching you, getting hard already at the idea of you offering yourself.

Dave is the first to put his hands on you, first on your hips then grabbing your ass. Joel, an older man with graying hair and green flannel shirt, interrupts him, rising from his seat. "Now, who told you you get to go first?" he asks in a deep voiced Texan accent.

"First? We're running a train on this girl?" Javier asks from his seat, a cigarette burning between his lips. He's dressed like someone from the 1970s but his clothes fit him well, accentuating a lean physique.

"You can do whatever you want with me," you tell them with confidence. "But of course, no hitting, no biting, no leaving marks." You are resolute on this, as is your employer.

"Hell, darlin', we're not monsters," Joel says, his eyes full of concern for you. The others chime in that they aren't into really rough stuff. Only Dave looks a little disappointed by your rule.

"I'd expect you to be more methodical about this," Javier tells Dave, rising from his seat and casting an amused glance at his friend. He eyes you up and down then reaches into your bra to cup your breast while his other hand dives between your thighs. "Christ, she's already wet. And so fucking tight. You haven't been doing this kind of work long, have you, baby?"

"You all are my first clients," you admit, your breath hitching as his thick fingers tease you.

Javier manages a small smile then looks over at the group. "You haven't thought about these guys," he tells Dave, and nods at Frankie and Marcus. "They're completely baffled by this."

"We're not, I know exactly what's going on," insists Frankie, an adorable middle-aged guy wearing a t-shirt, cargo pants and baseball cap. His innocence is palpable and quite touching.

Dave and Javier's hands are still on you, grabbing and groping. It's a good start. "I'm paying for her. I should get to go first," Dave complains.

A few of the guys (well, okay, Javier and Dave) start to bicker about it, fueled by testosterone and alcohol. Joel strides up to you, effectively taking you away from Dave and Javier. "It's kind of a shame that no one's puttin' her feelings into consideration. She's gonna be providin' a huge service for us. Least we can do is give her a little pleasure beforehand." With that, he takes you and places you on the ottoman, kneeling between your open thighs. He rips open the crotch of your lingerie and dives in, sucking on your pussy. Your initial shock gives way to thrill as you register the warm, wet stiffness of his tongue rasping your folds, your clit, not taking his time about it. Your fingers curl into his hair as you lift your thighs back. You're still on the clock, still giving a show, even if this part is currently for your benefit. With Joel's aid you manage to take the now-ruined lingerie off and are naked but for your knee-high stockings.

"Way to get the party started," Javier says approvingly. "I'm not about to waste any time." He goes to you and sits you up. You take a moment to admire the bulge in those tight trousers before he pulls them down enough to take out his thick shaft. You obediently open your mouth to accept it and he slowly moves into your throat, allowing you to get used to him. Saliva pools in your mouth as you start to moan around his dick, still exhilarated by Joel's ravishing you with his tongue. You feel a hand massaging your breast and look over to see Frankie, his puppy dog eyes wide with wonder, as if he can't believe you're real.

"That feels so good," you tell him, sensing he likes praise. He lights up, encouraged by you, and continues to pinch and pull at your nipple before sucking on it, extracting a pleasured moan from your lips before you go back to sucking off Javier.

Marcus and Dave stand back. Marcus looks flustered and Dave has his hands on his hips, making a face. He's figuring out where to squeeze in but at the same time doesn't want to share.

Meanwhile you're keeping busy with Javier's cock in your mouth, Frankie's mouth on your breast, and Joel still lapping at you between your thighs. The most exquisite feelings comes over you and your scream is muffled as you come so hard, your body spasming while surrounded by these men. It's the most sensually charged moment of your entire life.

Joel lifts himself up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "She's wetter'n a cucumber in a convent," he chuckles, standing and trying to get the feeling back in his knees. Frankie then moves down to finger you just as Javier is on the verge of coming. Just as he gives a strangled growl, spilling his cum into your willing throat, you feel one of Frankie's fingers in your ass. You gasp and clench around him as Dave takes Javier's place. Your body is buzzing with energy, with lust.

"You're gonna earn every penny," Dave growls, thrusting into your mouth as if he hates you. You don't have a gag reflex but you pretend to choke on him, bringing tears to your eyes.

Frankie starts to undo his pants then quickly steps away. "I'm, uh, not ready yet."

"Let her take care of it," Javier says, lighting up another cigarette.

"No smoking in here," Dave warns, his eyes still on the mascara running down your face.

"Fuck you."

You start stroking Frankie, smiling at the plumpness of his cock, uncut. He's gazing down at you with tenderness in his eyes.

"Marcus, you joinin' us?" Joel asks, getting ready to pull down his jeans.

Marcus watches from the adjoining kitchen, his beer growing warm in his hand. "Maybe.. in a bit." He smiles nervously.

Joel shrugs and unzips himself, releasing his thick, veiny cock. It's all you can do not to stare at it in wonder.

"Hey, I was gonna go first," Dave says aggressively.

"You snooze you lose. Aren't we all gonna get a turn?" Joel smirks before aligning himself to your opening. "Such a tiny, perfect little pussy.. you're gonna be completely wrecked when we're done with you, babygirl..."

Your eyes widen when he begins to slide into you, but you're already slick enough to take him. You remove Dave from your mouth so you can watch Joel's cock disappear inch by inch into your cunt.

"Don't forget about me," Dave warns you, tapping his dick against the side of your face. You compliantly return to sucking him off and he grunts contentedly in response. At the same time Joel pushes in to the hilt. "Hell she's taking every inch of me," he groans. "What a good little slut she is.."

"Well shit, don't stretch her out before the rest of us," Dave complains.

"That's not a particular worry of mine," Javier smirks, getting himself ready again as he goes to your free hand, opposite Frankie, who is already hard and ready. Joel is building up a nice tempo, sliding deep inside your pussy, Dave thrusts avidly into your mouth, Frankie and Joel are watching you as you zealously prime them for whatever they want to do next.

"Oh my god!" Frankie's eyes go wide and without warning he comes on your stomach and you make a sound of surprise when you feel the warm stickiness of him on your skin. "I'm sorry," he mumbles.

"Don't be," you tell him with a smile. "Think you've got another one in you?" you wink and scoop his cum into your mouth as Frankie watches in wonder.

Dave seems upset that you keep removing him from your mouth to talk to Frankie, but Frankie looks so happy that you're not grossed out or upset. Dave grabs hold of the back of your head and rams himself in your throat. "Less talking, bitch," he growls.

You would give him a death glare but then you feel Joel speeding up, his thrusts strong, the loud slapping of your flesh fills the air. Before you know it you're throbbing around him, milking him as you feel him finish inside you. He doesn't stay long, and soon Javier takes his place. "Flip over, cariño," he says, moving you on all fours. Dave takes over from the front, Frankie strokes himself while fondling your tit. Javier grabs your ass and slides in, letting you feel every inch of him as you moan around Dave's cock. He cums soon, spraying the back of your throat with his thick white cum.

"Get in there, Frankie!" Javier encourages, pumping away none too gently as he watches your ass ripple with each thrust. "Marcus get over here and do something or you'll miss out!"

Marcus seems frozen to his spot but Frankie follows orders and you open wide to receive him. He looks down at you like you're some kind of miracle, and you make sure to look at him the same way, charmed by his good nature.

Javier leans close to you. "I'm gonna put it in your ass, cariño."

"Do whatever you want," you purr.

He pulls out of you and you feel a warm glob of saliva at your rear entrance. Javier smears it around your puckered hole and eases himself in. You gasp, fists clenching the edge of the ottoman. "Fill all her holes, boys," Dave says, watching from the side. "That's what she's here for."

Frankie pulls away from your mouth. "Let me get under you." he says, and Javier pulls out enough for you two to get positioned. Frankie aligns himself at your entrance and sinks in easily. "Jesus, you feel so good, Angel.." He thrusts up into you as Javier continues to fuck your ass. The three of you are a fusion of lust and frenzy. Joel watches, running his tongue over his lips, still tasting your sweet essence. Dave tells everyone he's next to claim your ass. Marcus has since inched closer, undeciding yet if he's going to join, or how. He's obviously hard, his eyes dark with craving.

"Marcus," you mumble as he approaches your side. "Fuck my mouth," you beg.

He suppresses a gasp but he unbuckles his belt. "I haven't.. in a while.."

"That's okay.." you smile at him, helping him pull down his pants and briefs, running your nails over his solid girth, and he immediately rises to the occasion. "You were shy before, but not now," you notice, and give his cock a couple of gentle tugs before taking him into your waiting mouth, just the tip, and letting him go in as deep as he wants.

Javier speeds up, fingers digging into your hips as all your cries fill the room. He comes, filling your ass as he grunts savagely, causing you in turn to come, clenching around Frankie who buries himself deep inside as he lets go. Once Javier pulls away Dave takes over, gripping your hips and moving you against him.

You finger your lonely pussy, unable to make yourself feel as good as any of these men have. “Oh god, I want all of you at once.. please!” You beg.

Marcus approaches you and lays beneath you as Dave moves away, scoots up so he’s practically standing over you. Joel claims your mouth and Javier lets you pump him with your fist. Frankie approaches from behind and at the same time Marcus enters you from beneath. Two men fuck your cunt, stretching you, ruining you, and all you can do is give them what they want and then ask for more.. one man in your mouth, in your hand, in your ass.. you are working for every penny just as Dave said.

You're practically dazed by the countless feelings of pleasure coming from every man inside you, the way they move, the way they taste, how their hands grope your ass or your breasts, your hips.. you're just a receptacle for them, a plaything. This allows your brain to soak everything in without having to think. Just feeling. None of them really care about your pleasure, not at this point. You're just a means to an end, and you like it. You've never felt more alive.

"God!" you gasp as you feel yet another wave of absolute euphoria threaten to take you under. You don't even bother to hold back. As soon as you come you feel them all come with you, like tiny explosions set off in a chain. You gulp down Joel's spunk as Dave spills himself inside your ass, and Marcus and Frankie throb then release, one only seconds after the other. Javier takes control of himself from you and spurts his cum onto your face. For the first time ever in your life, you squirt, gasping at the relief and suddenness of it. The six of you try hard to catch your breath, all of you taking in the moments of this night.

"I don't think I'll be able to cum for weeks," Joel says, chuckling as he pulls up his pants.

Showered and dressed, you leave in a skimpy outfit that covers more than the lingerie did, as Dave uses the escort agency's app to send you a very generous tip from himself and the rest of the guys. The guys, cleaned up and all in relaxed moods, watch the game, not even upset that they missed most of the second half. You take your money and leave, blowing a kiss to the guys.

"God damn, you hired a good one," Javier mutters to Dave.

"Let's make this an annual thing," Dave smirks. "Next one's on you, Peña."

dividers by @saradika-graphics 👑

[retroellie]

Dating Spencer Reid

Summary: What dating spencer Reid is like

A/N: I wrote this super-fast because I know I haven't really been active... so I wanted to write something quick for y'all! I miss y'all and I hope y'all enjoy!

Warnings: Some NSFW moments

Word count: 1.5K

-Spencer grew up on Victorian romance novels and old valentines' poems, so he was quite the hopeless romantic

-When Spencer wasn't solving theories and getting PHDs, he was dreaming of a beautiful romance. Basically, what I'm trying to say is that he isn't the most confident boyfriend, but he makes up for it in his own way!

-Y'alls first date was something straight out of a movie! I mean it was a bouquet of flowers, an expensive dinner followed by a movie theater that played only old 50's films.

-It was the kind of date that had you falling in love with him first thing, knowing that this boy was the person you see yourself coming home to every night.

-After the date, Spencer offered you his jacket and walked you home. It was a chilly night, the streets lit up from the moonlight. He rambled on and on about the movie, but you couldn't even focus on what he was saying because you were too distracted by him.

-What you fell more in love with was the fact he didn't expect you to even kiss him!

-He was more than okay to say your "goodbyes" and "see you later" than leave.... but you gave him a soft peck before heading into your apartment. Even throughout the darkness you could see his blush.

-Anyways, that date led to a beautiful love story between y'all

-Spencer was a romantic even in the littlest of ways, like sending flowers to your work randomly or leaving you small poems in your fridge before he leaves so it feels as though he never really leaves.

-Spencer would always make sure to call you every night when he was away for work... I mean EVERY night.

-"Spencer honey it's 3am here..."

-"I know! But I just wanted to call you, should I call back in the morning?"

-"No, I'm already up and well I miss hearing your voice anyways." You laughed softly.

-The start of your relationship was so innocent, there was no sex or jealousy... it was just so simple and romantic

-There was lots of making out though, something that surprisingly Spencer was the one to initiate every time.

-There were just lots of times when you two would be discussing a book that Spencer probably recommended to you, then all of a sudden, his tongue would be down your throat.

-He was getting used to hugs and the touching, but kissing was something that felt so natural when he did it with you.

-Speaking of books! He had a list of books he recommended to you, like books that you never thought you'd read but you're glad you did yk?

-You would finish a book in one sitting and call him immediately to talk about it

-In turn though, you would bring him into the modern era and show him newer movies and music. Most of the stuff he did not like, but he pretended to like it to be nice.

-The first couple of months of your relationship, the team had no idea you existed. They started to notice spencer being in a lot better mood, but nothing too alarming.

-However, Derek Morgan is a lady killer... so he caught on a lot faster than the others.

-Like one time, the whole team was going out for drinks and Spencer said he had plans... Derek caught him in a lie real fast

-"So, who's the lucky lady?"

-"What?"

-"Pretty boy...I don't need to be a profiler to figure out why your suddenly so "busy.""

-Because of Morgan prying, Spencer decided to invite you out with the team one night.

-The team was all pretty nice, but very confused on why someone like you would want someone like spencer?? You two were completely different from each other... like night and day damn near

-Besides your differences, the team fell in love with you probably harder than Spencer did. I mean Penelope basically adopted you by the end of the night... she did however do her background checking before meeting you, but we don't gotta talk about that.

-The meeting of the team made the relationship real, like now you had become a part of their small family, and they trusted you enough to take care of spencer

-Spencer also felt this was a huge step, like now that his family accepted you, he was going to spend the rest of his life with you

-Spencer would always bring you up when he got the chance now, putting a framed picture of you and him on his desk just so people would ask about you.

-"Oh, who's this?" Someone would ask.

-"That's my girlfriend, Y/N. We've been dating for 11 months, 2 weeks, and 4 days. She's a (profession) and she smells like lavender."

-Like girl, all they asked was who you were... not every detail of your existence.

-But now that you guys are now officially dating, and everyone knows it... there's some newfound jealousy

-Spencer knew that you were attractive, but sometimes he forgets that you are also attractive to others as well

-Sometimes when you come into the FBI office, he sees other men staring you down... probably wondering how a nerdy boy like him could get someone like you.

-Spencer getting jealous is quiet and polite. He doesn't get angry or upset, we all know he does not do good with emotions. So, he'll just keep his distance from you, accepting the fact that you could leave him at any moment and not wanting to feel the effects of it.

-He will go silent for days if you didn't ask him about it, not even sure what he was feeling but knew he didn't like it.

-"Just didn't like how he was looking at you... made me feel weird."

-"You're jealous?"

-"I guess... I don't know."

-You just laughed it off, telling him how you would never choose anyone over him even if there was a gun to your head.

-Spencer also remembers everything about everything so... he picks up on your favorite things and your little quirks, plus he never forgets an anniversary!

-Derek bullies the shit out of him, like omfg

-he'll always call you his mommy and make kissing sounds when you call him, loud enough for the entire office to hear.

-"Muah muah muah... Oh Y/N!!" Derek yells, making sure you heard him.

-"So let me guess... Dereks with you?"

-"How'd you know?"

-He actually doesn't use too many pet names, but you definitely do lmao. His name is literally "Spenice poo <3" on your phone.

-Eventually, Spencer asks you to move in with him and omfg!!! You are so excited, like jumping up and down excitedly.

-I feel like spencer would be so domestic too omfg

-He would play music while cleaning the house, but it would all be like Mozart and classical music. You would always grab him by the waist and start dancing with him, you both looked so stupid but at least it was together.

-He would ramble to you all the time and you were probably the only person in the world that would let him, honestly you enjoyed it too.

-Like you had just gotten out of the shower, Spencer barged in and started talking about a case. He sat on the toilet seat while you did your skin care, just rambling on and on about how sick this person was.

-Yours and Spencer's different aesthetics clashed a lot in the house, like Spencer's apartment was slowly being taken over by you and your stuff... but he didn't mind.

-Since you guys have decided to take your relationship to another big step... Spencer decided he wanted you to pop his cherry.

-Spencer wasn't too experienced and he's never really had sex before. He's done stuff with someone, but never the actual act of it.

-He wanted to do it way before, but he thought it would complicate everything and honestly, he wasn't completely ready for it yet.

-You made sure it was the perfect night, you had it planned out. You took him on a picnic, watching the sunset as you loosened him up a little bit, making sure he was comfortable before setting yourself down on his lap.

-You were so soft with him; I mean you were afraid you might break him. He had to beg for you at one point because you weren't going fast enough.

-The next morning, he had to go into work, something about him was different... his confidence boosted a bit. Derek could sense it from a mile away, making sure Spencer knew that he knew.

-The popping of his cherry had created something inside spencer, he found his favorite thing to do, and he wanted it at all times

-You obviously were glad to give him whatever his little heart desired, so you let him fuck you anytime he wanted. Sometimes it even got a little filthy... something you would have never guessed about spencer.

-My bad I got sidetracked... but spencer was also way touchier with you

-Spencer was never really touchy in public, but now it's all he ever did. If you were in the room with him, then his attention would be completely on you.

-He really just felt so safe with you, knowing that you gave him not only your body but also your mind... he just wanted you, period. 

[little-diable]

May thy knife – Feyd-Rautha (smut)

This is y'alls fault, all your comments made me write this. So, here we go, psychotic reader is back, but with a somewhat loving relationship. It felt only right to twist this famous scene – I'm sure this has been done before but I haven't read a fic that takes on this twist just yet, so I'm in no means copying any fic out there. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: What if the reader, who is married to Feyd-Rautha, didn't know that Paul, her brother, was still alive? What if it was her fighting against him instead of Feyd – all for revenge, to make her brother feel the same pain he had forced her to feel with his faked death?

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, oral (m), willingly rough loss of virginity, choking, dom!Feyd, degrading, spitting, fighting, passing out, blood licking, knife licking, reader is a psycho fitting Feyd, yet there's some form of love between the two, and no, I ain't killing us so we survive the fight

Pairing: Feyd-Rautha x fem!Atreides!reader (4.2k words)

The hatred she emanated was felt by all people surrounding her, people who didn’t dare meet her icy gaze – not even the emperor dared to turn towards (y/n). It was a wise decision, for the sake of all their lives, knowing that she could rob their soul and their last breath even without any weapons on her. 

It had only been a few minutes since they had been taken prisoner, and while (y/n) could have easily fought her way out of the tight grasp, she hadn’t been able to move. Frozen to her spot as she had never been before, unable to move as her eyes followed the frame of the Muad’Dib. Paul Atreides. Her brother. The man she had believed to be dead for endless weeks. The prophet who hadn’t spotted her in the small crowd. 

Not even Feyd-Rautha’s closeness had managed to rile her up at that moment, the man she had been forced to marry, the man she hadn’t allowed to touch her, not even on their wedding night. It hadn’t taken him long to accept that she’d cut off his hands should he touch her, speaking lies to the Baron to answer private questions that had left (y/n)’s insides churning. Feyd had protected her even when she went against a simple contract, lured closer by the darkness she carried deep within herself. 

She had made too many sacrifices for her brother and their mother’s lies, tossed away for a strategic marriage she hadn’t been prepared for. All to mourn her brother who was still alive and breathing, guiding those who saw the prophet in him.

“You’re quiet. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this, wife.” Feyd’s breath teased her neck, he stood with his armoured front pressed against her back, hands resting on her waist. It was a dangerous game, a game she didn’t buy into, too focused on her racing mind. Feyd gave (y/n) another moment to push him away, just like she had always done – but she didn’t, she kept herself pressed against him as if he was an anchor saving her from drowning. “What are you planning?”

“How I will kill the Muad’Dib.” Not one ounce of love thumped through her veins, an emotion she had once held onto, at least for her older brother; a love that had frozen in her system the second she had heard his voice ring in her ears minutes ago. Feyd’s raspy chuckles left her skin tingling, adding fuel to the fire simmering deep inside of her. 

For a moment, (y/n) allowed herself to focus on her husband’s touch, how he held onto her, tight enough to send a clear message to wandering eyes. He may have not claimed her behind closed doors, addicted to their game of back-and-forth, but to all those eyes, she was his as he was hers, a ruthless husband to a cunning wife. 

“You know, I am always excited for a fight.” She wanted to reply, wanted to tease him for fighting against drugged prisoners who never stood a chance against him, but the second his cold lips met her throat, her words were lost on her sharp tongue. Her heart roared in her chest, not used to being kissed by Feyd, not after their first and only kiss in front of their wedding guests. 

“You won’t fight. This is between my brother and me.” (Y/n) turned in Feyd’s grasp, letting her eyes wander over her husband’s features. He was handsome, she had always been drawn to him, and yet something had always held her back – the fear of being tied down by a man who perfectly matched her ruthless ways, a man who would rather kill himself than back down from a fight, just like (y/n). They were too similar, a scary realisation she had been forced to face many moons ago. 

“I will let you fight, wife, but for that, I get to claim you tonight.” The mischief twinkling in his bright pupils pushed anger through her, anger clashing against lust. Her mind didn’t get to interfere as (y/n) shifted her weight onto her toes to press a kiss to his lips. She pulled away before Feyd could deepen the kiss, heart roaring in her chest as if it was communicating with his. 

“You’ll have to lick my brother’s blood off me before you get to touch me.” Her words were meant as a warning, a warning Feyd clearly found enjoyment in. And with his raspy laugh echoing through the room, she found herself thrown back into her darkening mindset, preparing for a fight against her brother. 

……

“How can you be so sure the Great Houses are here for me?” Paul’s voice filled the room. She didn’t see much of his frame, standing behind Feyd to shield herself from her brother’s and her mother’s eyes. She hated the way her fingers trembled, urged on by her anger, by her sadness, emotions flushing through her like poison set to kill her. “They may be curious to hear my side of the story, don’t you think? I am Paul Atreides, son of Leto Atreides, Duke of Arrakis.”

She wanted to shoot forward, wanted to throw herself against her brother’s frame to force him to his knees. But the hand Feyd pressed against her stomach to hold her back was enough to stay glued to her spot. The time wasn’t right just yet. 

“Gurney, send a warning to all ships. If the Great Houses attack, our atomics will obliterate all spice fields.” Paul’s words left most of the people surrounding (y/n) tensing, words that were about to force a laugh out of her. She could feel and see her mother’s influence on Paul, forming him into the son she had always dreamt him to be. 

“You’re out of your mind.” The Emperor’s slightly trembling voice drew a smirk to both (y/n) and Feyd’s lips, they got a taste of the chaos soon unfolding in front of them, drawing a sick sense of satisfaction and anticipation through the couple. 

“He’s bluffing.” She couldn’t stop a soft laugh from leaving her at her husband’s words, urged on by the need to stand even closer. Her body was guiding her without giving her mind a chance to protest as her hand found Feyd’s. She was still covered by his tall frame, and yet she felt him freezing for just a second as she interlaced their hands. 

“Consider what you’re about to do, Paul Atreides.” Within seconds, the voice filled their ears, forcing the Reverend Mother to lose her balance. No longer could (y/n) focus on the exchange between Paul and the Emperor, no longer could she focus on Feyd whose hand she had dropped once again. (Y/n) knew that the time was finally right, it was now or never, a fight that would end with either her’s or her brother’s life on the line.

“Stand or choose your champion.” Those were the words that ripped (y/n) out of her trance, pushing past her husband. She didn’t see how Feyd’s fingers twitched, having to stop himself from reaching for her, to stop (y/n) from fighting a battle he had been destined for. 

“I’m here, Paul.” (Y/n) spoke the words with venom dripping from her voice, watching her brother’s bright pupils widen. From the corner of her eye, she could watch her mother shoot to her feet, and yet (y/n) didn’t dare let her gaze wander, enjoying the realisation that began to widen on her brother’s panicked features. “I need a blade.” 

“Accept mine.” She didn’t rip her eyes from her brother’s to look at the Emperor, seizing the chance to read Paul well enough to tell her that he fought an inner battle. Paul whispered her name as he slightly shook his head, begging his sister to step away. Her tongue kissed her teeth as a blood-curdling smile widened on her lips, she didn’t need to speak up to tell Paul that she’d try everything she could to kill him, a simple act of revenge for leaving her, for forgetting her, for playing her. 

With a slow nod thrown her way, seemingly accepting her will to fight, Paul turned from (y/n) to walk back towards his people. Only Feyd’s hand on her waist managed to rip her gaze from her brother’s frame, “Make me proud wife. Kill him.” 

Feyd squeezed her waist as he pressed a harsh kiss to her lips, a clear signal for all those who were watching their interaction. He’d kill them all should she die, avenge her death as if it was his own life they tried to take. Without speaking another word, (y/n) pushed Feyd away from her, she tightened her grip on the Emperor’s blade, and let her feet carry her towards her brother. 

“(Y/n),” Paul’s choked-up voice drew a humourless chuckle out of her. For a moment, she allowed her gaze to stray, to look at their pregnant mother and the unreadable expression she wore. (Y/n) had never been the favourite child, even though she was the girl Jessica had been asked to birth. She had always been too ruthless, too cold, too cunning for their family, the outcast who had been married to Feyd at the first given chance. 

“Say it.” (Y/n)’s words were venomous, spat at her brother whose pained expression made him appear even more pathetic in her eyes. She wanted Paul to speak the words, words the siblings had spoken as mere children whenever they challenged one another into a play fight. Paul kept quiet, unable to part his lips until she almost screamed her words, “Say it!”

“May thy knife chip and shatter.” Paul’s voice trembled as he spoke the words, momentarily closing his eyes as if he struggled to accept their fate, to accept that he was expected to kill his beloved sister, unable to back down from a fight like this. She repeated the words much slower than Paul had, with a dangerous smile tugging on her lips – no longer did (y/n) care about her own life, about the mere chance of dying in her brother’s arms. She was hungry for revenge, to make him feel the pain she had been forced to carry deep within herself these past weeks. 

And then everything began to blur, one attack after another, one strike after another, one stumble after another. She felt all their eyes on them as they fought, but (y/n) couldn’t give into the temptation to study the crowd, searching for Feyd’s eyes that were glistening with adoration for his wife. A woman fighting like a snake, slithering along Paul’s body to squeeze him to death. 

Only as Paul’s knife cut (y/n)’s skin for the first time did her world begin to slow down, momentarily stopping its spinning motion. Paul seemed to freeze just like she did, focusing on the blood pouring from the wound. Perhaps he expected her to back down, to leave the circle to search for her husband’s protection. But (y/n) did something she had studied her husband do one too many times: Her fingers found her wound, picking up the drops of blood to suck her fingers clean, high on the coppery taste. Feyd’s laughter rang in her ears as she attacked her brother once again, faster this time, even more ruthless than the rounds before.

With blood sticking to her lips, (y/n) and Paul kept circling one another – all until she seized her chance to ram her knife into his side. Paul’s gasp forced their mother to her feet once again, searching her daughter’s eyes to shake her head, a silent warning not to kill her brother, a silent gesture that they wouldn’t mourn her death, only Paul’s. But while her mother’s eyes carried a clear warning, Feyd’s carried encouragement, asking his wife to end this right there and then. 

A moment of distraction that gave her brother the chance to slice his blade through her skin, forcing it to nestle inside her stomach. Both siblings held onto one another, glassy eyes finding back together as neither loosened their grip. 

“Do it, kill me. Feel the pain you’ve forced me to feel, feel the grief that has almost killed me.” Tears dripped from (y/n)’s eyes as she choked on her blood, knowing that she’d pass out any moment now. And even though she felt the darkness creeping through her veins, telling her that it was time to bid this life goodbye, a smile began to widen on her lips. 

This was the moment she had imagined all these weeks, it was finally upon them. 

Slowly Paul sacked to the ground with (y/n) clinging to him, holding onto her as he lifted his teary gaze. She didn’t see the way her brother's panicked gaze looked around the room, didn’t see the way his eyes found Feyd’s rage-filled ones, luring her husband closer. All she could focus on were the tears dripping from Paul’s bright eyes, holding back his sobs as Feyd kneeled next to them. 

“Do whatever you must, save my sister.” 

……

She woke with a gasp, eyes shooting open. It took her a moment to focus on her surroundings, the grey walls, the dim light, and the figure standing close to her bed. Pain shot through her as she tried to move, forced to plop back down onto the mattress with a curse clawing through her.

“You’re finally awake.” Feyd’s raspy voice drew a whimper from (y/n)’s chapped lips, eyes momentarily fluttering close to try and remind herself of what had happened. “You almost died, killed by your foolish brother who has never fought fair before. I should have killed him for hurting you.” 

“Come here.” (Y/n) ignored her husband’s words, not daring to think of her brother, of their fight, and of the blood she had lost. Wordlessly, Feyd came to a halt next to her, staring down at her to wait for (y/n)’s next command. With another gasp roaring through her, she shuffled around on the bed, making space for her husband to lay next to her. “If you tell others of this I will kill you.”

His chuckles filled the room as he carefully placed himself next to her. The moment had something awfully intimate to it, giving the married couple a chance to be close to one another for the first time, without any eyes on them, without hatred urging words to leave their cold lips. 

Feyd’s hand slightly trembled as he reached for her no longer bloody fingers, slowly interlacing them. Never had he done this before, reaching for her without any further message to communicate, holding onto her for the mere chance to be close to her. 

“What happened to Paul?” Pain clawed through her at the thought of her brother. Anger had forced her to act, anger she hadn’t been able to swallow until now, unsure how to accept that her family had lied to her. 

“Don’t worry about him for now.” Feyd didn’t tell her how he had left the planet with her, how he had brought her away from that place. Feyd didn’t tell her how he had sworn to Paul that he’d avenge (y/n)’s death should she die. Feyd didn’t tell her how Paul had told others to let them go, not knowing where Feyd was taking (y/n), not knowing if he’d ever see his sister again. 

And at that very moment, (y/n) didn’t find the strength to ask another question, the strength she would regain soon enough to find her path back to her cunning self, set on ending the ruleless game between her and her family. 

…… 

“Fight like a Harkonnen for fuck’s sake!” Anger pushed her words past her clenched teeth. Sweat was pooling on (y/n)’s forehead as she stared at her husband with spite swimming in her pupils. She knew Feyd was holding back, not trusting that (y/n) had regained her full strength just yet, the strength she’d need to force him to his knees in a training session like this. 

“Wife.” It was a warning he spoke, a warning not to rile him up even further, knowing that he’d lose his patience soon enough. (Y/n) darted at her husband, her body collided with his to throw them both to the ground. She straddled his waist with a grim expression tugging on her features, knowing that in any other scenario, she wouldn’t have been able to attack Feyd like that. “Fine, this is your own fault, darling.”

Feyd harshly pushed her off him, momentarily robbing his wife of her breath as her back collided with the cold ground. He rose to his feet with his jaw clenched and his hands balled into fists – the version of her husband (y/n) desperately had tried to trigger. They circled one another, holding onto their blades with twitching fingers, set on regaining the upper hand.

Now it was on Feyd to attack first, his blade met hers over and over again, until he cut her cheek, drawing a hiss out of (y/n). She was heavily panting as he chuckled, bringing the bloody tip of his blade up to his pale lips to lick it clean, moaning at the taste of her blood. 

Something began to shift at that moment, something that forced her to drop her blade, to throw herself into his grasp and to kiss him. Both fell back to the ground, allowing Feyd to cage her between the floor and his frame. His hand found her throat to keep her pinned down beneath him, all while their tongues fought for victory. 

(Y/n) tightened her legs' grasp around his waist to pull him even closer, moaning at the way he ground his hips against hers, making her feel his hardening cock straining against his tight trousers. Everything about this moment was new to her, unsure of where to go from there without any experience guiding her, not knowing how to touch her husband. And yet, everything seemed to come almost naturally to her, trusting her body and Feyd to push her through the soaring waves of heat filling her trembling body.

“I should have fucked you months ago. You had your chance, but now I won’t be gentle with you, I will fuck you as a woman like you deserves to be fucked.” His words shot heat straight to her core, words that forced her to hold still as Feyd kept manhandling her, cutting her shirt open with his blade. The groan that left him at the sight of her naked chest made (y/nn) back arch, desperate to feel his hands on her. “I should tie you up, keep you as my toy to claim whenever I am hungry for you. I bet you’d enjoy that, wouldn’t you?”

“I hate you!” It was nothing but a lie, a lie both easily saw through, but at that very moment neither Feyd nor (y/n) cared about pleasantries, urged on by their desires. He cut open her trousers before another curse could leave her, exposing her arousal-covered folds to his darkening eyes. Tonight he’d litter her in bruises. Tonight he’d force her to follow his rules. Tonight he’d show her his most ruthless side. 

“Hate me all you want, wife, your body still craves the touch of your husband. You’re dripping for me.” He didn’t warn her before he plunged two fingers into her tightness, feeling her walls flutter around his digits. Feyd held eye contact with her as he spat on her cunt, rubbing his saliva against her pulsing bundle. (Y/n)’s moans rang in his ears, urging him on as if he was high on spice, blurring out their surroundings, blurring out the calmness they were now disturbing. “I can’t wait to rip you open with my cock, make you feel pain you won’t ever forget.” 

Her mind was silenced, fogged up by the lust thumping through her veins. Feyd fucked her with his fingers, he pushed her closer to the high she had only allowed herself to feel whenever she had been desperate for his touch but too proud to search his closeness. But her body wasn’t ready to give up the chase just yet. Her hand found her blade, moving without gaining Feyd’s attention, who was still fully focused on her cunt.

With quick movements, she brought the tip of her blade to his throat, stopping him in his movements. The chuckle leaving Feyd left her smirking, looking even more psychotic with the blood still dripping from the cut on her cheek. She barely put up a fight as Feyd ripped the blade from her hand, as he shifted them around to bring her to her knees and up against his front. 

The blade teased her throat as he held her to him, even as he freed his aching cock, ready to disappear deep inside of her, “You had your chance, I would have prepared you for my cock, would have given you time to adjust. But that kindness is no longer among us. Now you’ll take my cock like my own personal whore.” 

He forced his cock into her cunt, groaning at the tightness engulfing him. Tears ran down her cheeks, tears of lust, of pain, of desperation – finding an unfamiliar sense of enjoyment in Feyd’s rough touches. His name rolled off her tongue as he fucked into her from behind, dropping the knife to choke her with his cold hands once again. 

Feyd was treating her like his pet, treating her like he had been raised to treat women – momentarily forgetting about the love he fostered deep inside of him. And she loved every second of it, finally able to give up control for the first time. 

“It brings me great pleasure knowing that no other man will ever get to have you like this. Your body is mine, you’re my whore, you only listen to my commands. And you will kill whoever dares to touch you should I not be fast enough to do it myself.” His words left her choking, forced to claw her fingernails into his pale skin as her mind began to race. Even though the words didn’t sound like it, it was the most sincere love confession Feyd had ever spoken, words that cut deeper than any blade ever would. 

“Feyd.” She whimpered his name as his free hand found her clit, rubbing the bundle of nerves to push her towards the edge. The first of many orgasms was awaiting her, set on ripping her from this place into another dimension, led by her husband. (Y/n) felt his black teeth run along her neck, biting the spot where her neck met her shoulders, close to drawing some more blood from her weeping body. 

She came without another word clawing through her, calling out his name as her orgasm momentarily robbed her of her vision. Feyd kept a strong hold on her throat, his hips kept meeting her behind, forcing his cock further into her clenched tightness. He gave it a few more thrusts before he pulled out of her and rose to his feet. 

With his hand finding her hair, he forced her towards him, making her scalp burn from the strength of his touch. His cock was shoved past her parted lips, letting (y/n) taste herself on his cock as he fucked her mouth. The corners of her mouth began to burn within a few moments, once again making tears fall from her glassy eyes. 

She had never seen her husband like this, trembling for her, with his head thrown back, and his eyes closed, fully focused on the pleasure thumping through her. No longer did she feel the need to fight, no longer did her fingertips ache for the feeling of her blade, no, for the first time since knowing Feyd, she wanted to give her everything to satisfy the man. 

“You’ll swallow every drop of my seed, and then you’ll lick me clean.” It was a simple command, a command that left her moaning around his cock. Feyd came within a few more seconds, releasing himself down her throat and on her eager tongue. The two held eye contact as she swallowed, as she ran her tongue up and down his twitching length, following his every command. 

“Where are you going, wife?” She froze in her movements, her heavily panting self had turned from him, set on plopping down on the ground to catch her breath. (Y/n)’s wide eyes were drawn back to his like spice forced up into the air, following the wind’s call. “That was only the beginning. I won’t be done with you for a while.”

[alchemistc]

Catie's Big Ass bucktommy fic rec (Part One)

So I'm not gonna lie, I have most of these fics priv. bookmarked because I HAVEN'T COMMENTED ON THEM YET AND I FEEL REALLY GUILTY ABOUT THAT. But more than one anon has asked for this and it tickles me pink that y'all like my writing enough to trust in my recs. So. Please, please, be better than I am and make sure to kudos and comment if you enjoy any of these works.

(Guys, there are SO MANY amazing writers in this fandom. So many truly breathtaking fics already. I got two hours into this and realized I was going to need to split this into parts because I have too many things to say about each of these and I want to do them all justice.)

Writers you can trust in:

@rcmclachlan /ao3 : I will sing RC's praises to the moon and back. There is something about the way RC injects humor into the tiniest of lines that makes me want to scream into a pillow until I pass out. You will see more than one of RC's fics in this list.

@kirkaut /ao3: kirkaut is the reason I jumped on this bandwagon. The unhinged spiral into LFJr obsession and the prevalence of well thought out meta and incredibly hot fic drew me in. If you are not following kirkaut, change that now.

@26-cats-in-a-trenchcoat / catfud_ohplease on ao3: Devastating prose. The ability to turn a theme on a dime and STAB YOU IN THE HEART with it. Mac owns my whole soul when it comes to really scratching that itch behind my eyelids for thematic imagery and really creative ideas for fic that aren't just run-of-the-mill smut/angst/fluff.

@devirnis / ao3: Ali only has one bucktommy fic up on ao3 but it is devine and I love it. Ali is also the only writer who has tempted me into reading buddie. This is not an indictment on buddie fandom or buddie fic writers in general, I just tend to be a one ship kinda gal and I don't really dive into fic for a ship I don't vibe with. Ali's writing has made me reconsider this position.

@beefcakekinard / thingbe on ao3: The domesticity. Literally just reread one of Rose's fics this morning and HAD to comment on it again because it made me want to fling myself to Jupiter.

(This is not a comprehensive list, but I just realized how many fics I have already bookmarked for bucktommy and I'm already under a readmore.)

Fics that make my brain go brrrr:

only fools rush in - somnum365 ( @firehose118)

Tommy lets Buck set the pace. Buck is ready for something.

Super hot and all about checking in. I've got a thing for discovering sex with a partner starting out with frottage and this delivers. The characterizations are so great.

Colin Firth Thinks You're Hot - IDontGoHereEither (@herrmannhalsteadproduction)

Buck is late for a special date night with Tommy, but he still stops to help a stranger stuck on the side of the road. Luckily, that stranger is about to help HIM.

Cute as fuck with a super fun guest star. Who doesn't want Mr. Darcy to think your boyfriend is hot?

sad girl poetic thursday night - screamlet

Date night menu: pasta primavera and emotional unpacking.

There's something about the pacing of this that sent me into a tailspin. The stream of consciousness that actually bleeds from the dialogue into the action and vice versa. Hng.

I Was Only Falling In Love - Princessfbi (@princessfbi)

Tommy in crisis mode.

There's a moment in this fic where Eddie has to pull Tommy back from the precipice of something and it lives entirely rent free in my head, forever and ever amen. The firefam taking care of Buck by taking care of Tommy.

let me count the ways - ashesandhalefire

Buck and Tommy in the aftermath of a good evening are chattier than they probably reasonably should be

There is something about this fic that feels like the witching hour is upon you, like you could live in this little pocket world Buck and Tommy have created for themselves forever. The dialogue is fantastic, and the way they communicate with each other is just *chefs kiss*

let's make it cinematic - kirkaut

Tommy helps Buck deal with some of his impotent rage in the face of the Gerrard of it all.

Listen, I do not have a praise kink. This kinda makes me wish I did.

"[...]Everything is.” He circles a finger around in the air. “It’s very spinny.” - this line of dialogue came for my fucking throat.

Sick with it - Mellow_Yellow

what if in an alternate universe babyslut Buck joined the 118 when Tommy was still in his closeted asshole era and they had a torrid affair??

The way this is a little fucked up. The way the characterizations aren't exactly familiar because they haven't aged into what we know them as in current canon. The way you can see in every broken line and every stutter step that Tommy is falling for Evan and has No Fucking Idea what to do with that. Ugh. Best Met Earlier AU I've ever read.

He blinked as Tommy walked by, eyes sliding closed again before he left. He felt a light touch on the top of his head but figured he was imagining it. He couldn’t think of anyone at the 118 who would touch him that carefully. - just absolutely fucking end me they're so good/bad for each other

A Full Body Workout - Persiflager

Tommy and Buck spend a day trying to distract Eddie from the *gestures vaguely* all of it.

The way this is so quiet in the way it shows you how Tommy and Buck care for each other. The way they are down bad but still so hyperaware of the pace they've set, the things they've talked about. The way they take care of their friend here. I'm obsessed with the tone of this one. Also, as a general theme, nothing draws me in more than well thought out dialogue, and this one has some fucking GREAT dialogue.

Your love is better than ice cream - Cecily_v, liminalmemories

An alternative meet-cute, where-in Tommy doesn’t know the 118 and decides Buck is worth it anyway. Buck is confused but figures some things out.

There is so much I love about this AU. How they meet. How their relationship progresses. How it feels glacially slow in comparison to the canon storyline but also how in character they both are. The foundation of their love in this fic is downright eatable.

just couldn't fall til we met - thingbe (@beefcakekinard)

Buck and Tommy spend a quiet morning in together.

This is the one that crossed my dash earlier today and made me eat fucking glass on reread. The closeness. The way they're both so tactile. The blink and you'll miss it hints at a life being built together. Eating this UP every time I read it.

The Premium Twunk Appreciation Society, President: Tommy Kinard - everythingremainsconnected

5 times Tommy almost faints like a Victorian maiden at the sight of Buck’s flesh, and 1 time he can do something about it.

“Hey,” Evan said, shoving Eddie out of the way and filling the screen with his playful glare, “organise bro time on your own time, I’m on the phone with– with Tommy.”

“With who?” Eddie repeated. Tommy didn’t need to see his face to hear the fondness in the mocking. “Who’s on the phone? I didn’t quite catch that.”

- They are so stupid about each other in this fic, please read it and watch steam blow out your ears at how sweet and hot and down bad for each other they are.

desire (i want to turn into you) - chthonicheart

The first time Buck’s really able to bury his face between a man’s tits, he nearly cries.

pwp but with a whole heaping of character study. HOT.

rule four (you were only waiting for this moment to arise) - middyblue (daisyblaine) [@middyblue]

Tommy has doubts.

There is a general mood to this piece that feels heavy in a way I can't quite explain. There was a weight on my chest all the way through this in the BEST way possible. The way Tommy navigates his mind and struggles to trust the little slice of peace he and Buck have carved out is just mindbogglingly beautiful.

Come Fly The Friendly Skies - RC_McLachlan (@rcmclachlan)

Buck meets their rescue mission's would-be pilot and is extremely normal about it.

"Throttling is what I'm gonna do to you if you don't shut up and let the nice man steal a helicopter for us,"

WHEN I TELL YOU I AM INCANDESCENT WITH RAGE over how funny and insightful this fic is.

Every characterization is picture perfect.

Maddie gives great hugs, but she's so small; if she had this guy's build and could basically fold Buck into her like an old blanket, they'd have to pry him out of her arms with the jaws of life.

In the back of Buck's mind, in a place he hasn't discovered, he's already picked out a venue and chosen his centerpieces. He's mentally putting together seating arrangements. This line of Buck's thoughts on Tommy Kinard told me so.

Please read this and join me in trying to destroy RC with my mind (lovingly).

little by little - MediaWhore

Buck & Tommy, during and after the wedding.

There is something so soft and gentle about this fic. The way Tommy just gives in to the exhaustion and props himself up against Buck because he knows he'll be able to take the weight (he wants to take the weight and Tommy knows it). The quiet flirting, the way they take care of one another. The jumpscare of Marge and Phil and how this fic is right at the edges of exploring that but Buck has me important priorities.

“It was badly done,” - the way this is so in character for Ma Buckley and the way it made me want to SHAKE HER TIL HER TENDONS SHATTERED AND SHE CRUMBLED LIKE A SATISFYING CASINO IMPLOSION

Soft and heartbreaking and mending all at once.

while you arranged flowers - newtkelly

Buck’s got a wedding date, but as far as today goes, he’s also got a regular one.

The way I want to wrap this Buck up tenderly and hide him from the people in his life who DON'T DESERVE HIS AFFECTION, HIS LOVE, HIS JOY.

The non-urgency of this, the absolute too-much-too-soon he's dealing with in his own mind while he grapples with the reality of seizing a second chance with both hands and getting to explore himself within the confines of a very lovely, very sweet and kind, VERY HOT man he wants to get on his knees for.

Beautiful prose, excellent dialogue, an insightful character study.

[eddie-van-munson]

The Princess Bride (Farmhand!Eddie Munson x Princess!Reader)

***********

***********

Warnings: Mentions of Blood (Nothing Graphic), Kissing, One Subtle Allusion to Smut, Childhood Best Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn...I think that's it?

Summary: You've been best friends with the stable boy since childhood, but when a suitor comes from across the sea to ask for your hand in marriage, you're forced to finally confront your feelings for him.

A/N: I hope y'all like this! I've had this in my drafts for literally over a year, but people seemed interested when I asked, so here it is! Please, Please, Please leave a comment! It will keep me writing!

Six Years Old

Your earliest memory of him was from the stream. 

His head was a mess of wild brown curls, so thick they nearly covered his eyes, and his pants had been rolled up past his knees. You'd been sitting in the gardens, ignoring your tutor's endless lesson on etiquette, when you spotted him through the clearing. He wobbled as he waded further, jumping forward suddenly as he tried to catch a fish with his hands. You had to hide your giggle with a polite cough, lest you be scolded.

The boy heard you, though. He stared at you as you obediently walked along the bank behind a man with a large nose. 

You made eye contact with him, and as soon as he noticed he'd won your attention, it became a game. Suddenly, he was pulling funny faces and splashing around the creek like a giant. He held your gaze all the while, flashing you a two-front-toothless grin when you finally fell into a fit of giggles. 

You'd had to recite forty lines that afternoon because of him, but it was well worth it to share a laugh as he mucked about in the water.

***********

Six Years Old

The next time you saw the boy, you'd fallen ill with fever. It'd been a few months since the stream, and you almost didn't recognize him as he plopped a bundle of healing herbs down on your bedside table. 

"You don't look like a Princess." He crossed his arms before him as he eyed you suspiciously. "You're awfully pale…And you're not even wearing a crown or a dress or anything." 

"I'm sick, you knob." You frowned, "No one wears a crown to bed." 

He hummed, sticking up his nose. "I thought Princesses had to be grown-ups." 

"I'll be queen when I'm a grown up." You announced, bossily. "And you'll have to do everything I say, or I'll send you to jail." 

He scoffed, "Not if I'm the King! The Queen has to do what the King says!" 

You rolled your eyes, "Well, you can't be King." 

"Yes, I can! Haven't you ever read King Arthur?" He pointed, brows raising. "I just have to find an enchanted sword and pull it out of a stone. Then I'll be the King, and I'll send you to jail." 

Your cheeks went pink as you argued, "King Arthur isn't even real!" 

"Yes, he is! And I'll be just like him! King Edward the First!" You giggled, and the boy flipped around from where he'd started strutting around the room, proudly. "What?"

"Edward is a funny name." 

As wildly offended as the boy was by this comment, he had to hide the smile that crept to his face at the sound of your hoarse laughter. "It is not!" 

"Yes, it is! Who's ever heard of a King called Ed? King Eddie!" You held your stomach, falling into another fit of giggles. 

He turned from you indignantly, "Fine! Stay here all alone with your smelly herbs, then! I don't need any silly ole' princess!" 

"No!" You croaked, sitting up in bed. "Don't go. It's so boring up here. I can hardly stand it." 

He sighed, putting a hand on his hip, and thought for a moment. "Only because you'll have me beheaded if I don't." 

***********

Ten Years Old 

"Oh goodness…You've gotten mud on your dress!" 

Your mother fussed over the little blue dress you were wearing, kneeling beside you to get a better look at the damage. Splotches of brown had been smeared over your front. Even your hair had a few streaks of dirt. 

"I got in a mud fight with Eddie." You informed her, as if the mess was perfectly justified by this. 

She chuckled, "I see. It looks like he may have won this time, hm?" She gave your cheek a gentle pinch, making your nose scrunch. 

"No, he didn't!" You turned, pointing at your friend. He dragged his feet behind you, looking defeated. 

Your mother burst into pretty laughter at the sight of him, resting a hand on her stomach. "Oh lamb…come here." 

The poor boy was absolutely caked in dirt. Not an inch of him was left unscathed. His wild curls were sopping with heavy mud, and you couldn't even see the embarrassed flush on his pouty face. He looked like he'd rolled around in the pig pen.  

The queen tutted affectionately, smirking. "Oh what am I going to do with you two?" 

***********

Thirteen Years Old

"Do you think he'll be alright?" Tears welled in your eyes as you sat in the windowsill in your room, watching Eddie as he walked quietly by himself in the distant fields, below. "I don't like seeing him cry." 

"He'll be alright, love." Your mother cooed, taking a seat beside you. "I know it's hard to see him in pain, but the poor dear's lost his mother. It might take some time for him to feel like himself again." 

You sniffled, holding your knees. The words trembled when you spoke again.  "He'll be sent away, won't he? He won't be allowed to stay at the palace anymore." 

The Queen frowned, stroking your hair. "Why do you say that?" 

"His mother worked in the laundry. That's why he's lived here so long. Without her, he-" You trailed off, voice cracking as you gave a soft sob. 

"Oh, silly girl." She chuckled softly as she dried your tears. "You think we'd throw Eddie out all on his own?" 

Your brow furrowed, confused. 

"Eddie's a strong boy, sweetheart. He works very hard in the stables and takes good care of the horses. He holds his own…and even if he didn't, he's family. We'd never send him away." 

Your whole demeanor relaxed, "You really mean it?" 

Your mother smiled, "Of course." 

Still, your eyes didn't leave him. You sighed, "He's so sad...He's sad and I don't know how to fix it. 

"I wish we could fix it for him, darling, but that's not how these things work. You can't take away that hurt. You just have to let him feel it." She straightened her dress as she stood, giving your hand a loving squeeze. "But that doesn't mean he couldn't use a friend." 

***********

Fourteen Years Old 

"I didn't know Princesses were allowed to climb trees." Eddie's grin was stained sweet and red, his legs crossed over a branch lazily as you plucked another strawberry from the bushel you'd collected that morning. 

Your etiquette teachers would be appalled if they could see you now, wearing little more than a chemise in the summer heat as you straddled a thick tree branch. Your feet were bare and dirty where they hung in the breeze. You smirked, "They are if nobody sees them." 

Eddie laughed, and it was such a clear sweet sound that you wished you could keep it tucked inside a locket. You sighed, longing to freeze time and keep things just the way they were forever.

You relaxed against a branch, "I've got my whole life to do what royalty is supposed to do. I've got to do fun things while I can still get away with it."

Eddie chuckled, "Maybe I'm a bad influence on you, after all.

You frowned, "Did someone say that to you?" 

He shrugged, unbothered. "The maids whisper it. They say a young lady shouldn't be left alone with a young man." He put on his best 'prim' voice, making you giggle. "I'm a threat to your innocence!" 

You held your stomach, laughing. "A threat to my innocence? That's horrible!" 

He grinned, "You're telling me!" 

The breeze rustled the leaves in the tree as you lounged, breathing in the sweet summer air. 

Eddie had strawberry juice on his lips. For the first time, the tiny, ant-sized thought of kissing it away crawled into your brain. You squished the ant. 

A bad influence, indeed. 

***********

Fifteen Years Old 

"Tag!" 

Eddie sprang up from the corner of the barn, sprinting after you as you ran off into the fields. 

You lost him quickly, cutting down and into the gardens. The morning dew was cool as the grass tickled your bare feet, and you nearly slipped as you ran over the stone path. A gloved hand grabbed your elbow to steady you. You turned to see a member of the palace guard; his brows furrowed. "There you are, Princess. Your Mother-" 

It all happened so quickly. Eddie ran through the bushes, a playful grin tugging his lips, and grabbed you from behind, "I've got you!" He yelled, drowning out your giggles. 

Before you realized what was happening, the guard ripped you from his hold, tossing you aside. Eddie was thrown onto the stone path, his temple hitting hard against the tile. Distantly, he heard you shriek. His vision was fuzzy and starry when he felt the weight of the guard pin him down, a drawn sword shoved against his throat. "You shall not touch her!”

"Stop! Stop it!' You grabbed the guard's arm, But he threw you back down. Eddie choked your name. 

"Stay back!" The guard barked at you, pressing harder against the blade. Eddie could feel blood trickling from his head. He was trembling, eyes closed tight. Still, the guard yelled in his face, “Who are you? Hands by your side!” 

"He's my friend!" You screamed hoarsely.

"Get off of him this instant!"

You'd never been so happy to hear your mother's voice in your life. The guard dropped his sword at the sight of her rushing towards him. Immediately, his face drained pale as a ghost. "Y-Your majesty!" 

"Get off of the boy, for god sakes, he's a child! Get off!" The man clambered off of Eddie as your mother knelt beside him, fussing over him dotingly, "Oh sweetheart, your head…You're shaking like a leaf…" 

He blinked hard, trying to clear his vision. The queen turned to the guard as you pitifully crawled over to your friend, pushing his curls back off of his forehead. "I'm sorry I'm sorry-" 

The guard searched for an explanation, "Your majesty, I thought the boy was-" 

"I know what you thought!" She snapped, sternly. She was well aware of the whispers surrounding yours and Eddie's friendship. Your mother's lips were pursed, cheeks red. You'd never seen her like that before in your life. "It gave you no right to hold a weapon to that child's throat!" 

"Your highness, I-" 

Your mother ignored the guard, turning back to you. "Help me get him inside." You nodded obediently as she squeezed Eddie's shaking hand, "I'll send for a doctor to check your head, darling."  

Eddie nodded, dizzily. 

You sat with him later that night when the doctor had gone and his head had cleared. The mark on his forehead would scar, no doubt, but it had been well tended, and any concussion he suffered was minor. This knowledge, of course, did nothing to soothe his nasty headache. 

"You're not a very good sport, you know." He groaned as you took his hand, smirking. "Siccing the palace guards on me just because I tagged you?" He tutted, "What a sore loser." 

***********

Sixteen Years Old 

"You have to tell!" You ran after Eddie as he hauled a sack of oats through the gardens to the stable. 

He ignored you, holding his nose high. "No, I don't. I don't have to tell you everything just because you're a princess."

You crossed your arms, "You have to tell me because I'm your best friend, you knob. Best friends don't keep secrets!" 

"Sure, they do. You mean to tell me you've never kept a secret from me?" 

You groaned, "That's different! You have to tell me if you fancy someone!" 

Eddie sighed, turning to face you, and dropped the sack of oats. "Why do you want to know so bad?" 

You blushed, stammering. "I…I want to help you confess your love!" 

Eddie laughed, "What a lie! You just want to tease me!" 

"Oh, Come on!" You pouted, putting your hands on his shoulders. If you tell me who it is, I'll tell you a secret, too."

"Tempting." He sighed, picking up the sack again and throwing it over his shoulder. "But no." 

***********

Eighteen Years Old

"You've got to keep it down…"

You scoffed, rolling your eyes as he guided you towards the stables. "Why?" 

He laughed, "If I told you why, then it wouldn't be a surprise." 

He smirked when you groaned, reaching for the latch on the barn door. “You know I don't like surpris-..." 

 You went silent as he led you inside slowly, revealing a soft colored mare, and below her, her newborn foal.

"Oh!" You gasped, a smile creeping to your face. You stepped forward, wanting to approach the baby, but Eddie took your arm, gently pulling you back.

"You've got to be careful...the mare's protective of her. I nearly got kicked in the teeth this morning." He chuckled, enjoying the amazement in your eyes as you watched the mother and baby interact. 

"She's beautiful." You mumbled, grinning. 

Eddie couldn't help but smile, "She's strong too..." He paused, breath fanning your neck as he spoke just loud enough for you to hear. "She'll make a good riding horse, one day." 

You met his brown eyed gaze, biting your lip shyly as he nudged your arm with his elbow. 

You could feel him admiring you. 

You liked it.

***********

Nineteen Years Old

"Oh, Eddie. He was horrible…You wouldn't have been able to stop laughing!" 

Eddie clutched his stomach, laying back against the grass as he toyed with a wildflower. "That's because it's funny!" 

Your fingers fumbled with the ends of your hair, untangling the intricate hairstyle it's been tied up in. "It's not so funny when it's you!" 

Eddie grinned, looking starry eyed, "It really just fell off of his head?" 

"During dinner!" You exclaimed. Eddie fell into another fit of laughter. "Right onto his plate in front of everyone!" 

Your friend sighed, wiping his happy tears as he sat up to gather a handful of clovers. "I can't believe he wore an honest to God wig. The poor lamb." 

You laughed at his faux sympathy, watching his hands as he wove together stems. 

He looked so different from the little boy you'd befriended as a child. His wild curls had grown just past his shoulders now, his bangs often covering the scar on his temple. His arms and back were beautiful, muscles sloping gently beneath his skin, and while he was a hint more bronze than he had been as a boy, his freckles remained. His nose and his dimples had never changed in the slightest, and those big brown eyes reassured you that no matter how much Eddie had grown up, he'd always be that silly little boy, deep down. He'd always be your Eddie. 

"But what's the verdict?" He chuckled, "You never said. Is he the one?" 

You groaned, "You're mocking my pain." 

"I am not!" He fought a smirk. "I didn't want to assume. Maybe he was a wonderful conversationalist." 

You giggled, yawning. "I wouldn't know. I didn't catch a word he said after his hair went into his soup. 

Eddie gave you a fond smile, laying on his elbow beside you, "Here you are, princess. A crown." 

Your heart felt oddly achey as he draped a handmade crown of wildflowers over your head. You smiled, affection in your eyes. 

Your throat was tight when you spoke, "You're better than any prince, Eddie Munson." 

His cheeks flushed faintly. "Well, I don't know about that…" He tapped your nose playfully. "Most princes don't smell like a barn." 

***********

Twenty Years Old 

"Eddie, darling!" Your mother had called to him as he cut through the gardens back to the stable. His brows raised when he turned to find the Queen accompanied by you and the King. A man Eddie had never seen before held your arm, an unreadable expression on your face. Eddie bristled. 

"Your Majesties." Eddie nodded his head politely as the group approached, his muscles stiff with wariness. 

Your father gave a proud smile, gesturing to the stranger on your arm. "Son, let us Introduce you to Prince Carver the Fourth: Heir to the Throne of Hawkins."  

"An honor to meet you, Your Highness." Again, Eddie bowed his head. He'd never seen someone that looked so stiff. The two of you would have fun joking about it, later. 

Prince Carver was older than you, and by the looks of him, he'd never been outside a day in his life. Every last one of his blonde hairs had been tediously placed, as if he'd been sculpted out of clay, and his boots were perfectly polished black leather. The blonde eyed Eddie with disdain, crinkling his nose at the sight of his work clothes. "Yes, I'm sure." 

Eddie fought an eye roll. Another suitor, he assumed. The Royals were only being polite by offering him a tour, seeing as he'd travelled so far only to be rejected.

The Queen stepped towards him, glancing at the prince. "Eddie has become a very dear friend to our daughter, Prince Carver. Perhaps he would make a nice addition to your staff. He's served us so well in our stables." 

Confusion was visible in Eddie's face. An addition to his staff? What was going on? He looked to you for help, but your eyes were cast down into the grass. 

Prince Carver cleared his throat, "Unfortunately, we aren't lacking any farmhands at the moment, but you need not worry about the princess, your highness. She'll find much companionship in Hawkins, once we are wed."

Eddie felt his blood go cold. Absolutely frigid. 

Once we are wed. Once we are wed. Once we are wed.

His mouth opened to say something, but he couldn't find a single word. He was desperate to look you in the eyes, but his gaze was only met by a small shimmer on your left hand. An engagement ring. 

"Please excuse me, Your Majesties." 

****

Eddie hadn't cried like this since his mother died. 

He hadn't felt the blow of such terrible loss since he'd been orphaned. 

He sat alone in the barn on a stool, tears rolling down his cheeks as he gently stroked his fingers through the mane of the foal he'd surprised you with two years ago.

It was a pretty horse…full grown now and patterned with soft brown spots across her back. You'd named her "Sweetheart" after hearing Eddie call her that. 

Come're, Sweetheart. 

Here you go, Sweetheart. 

Good job, Sweetheart…That's it. 

Pain shot through his chest at the realization that the horse would probably get to go with you to your new home. 

But not Eddie. Eddie would be left behind. 

He clenched his jaw, eyes burning as he buried his fists in his curls and tugged. He was angry. He couldn't help but feel angry. It wasn't fair. His whole heart was being shipped off to God knows where, and there wasn't a word he could say about it. 

It wasn't your fault. You were a princess. Your hand in marriage was a pawn in a game of political chess. It had been since the beginning. Both of you knew this. You always had. So why weren't the two of you happy that this inevitable union was one that would lead the country to thrive? 

Eddie took a deep breath, relaxing his hands from his hair and rubbing tears from his face. 

You'd daydreamed with Eddie before. Lots of times. It was always the same thing.

I wish we could just run off and live in the woods, Eds. Just you and me. We could build a little cottage beside a stream. That way, we could swim in the summertime. You could finally teach me to fish, too. 

Is that what he'd been expecting? Had he hoped, deep down, that he'd somehow end up in that cottage after all, spending summer days with you by a stream? 

Maybe. Or maybe he'd just wanted you. 

He'd dreamt up hundreds of different futures for himself. There were countless paths he'd wandered down curiously in his head, over the years. Some were outlandish and fantastic…some were more modest. As much as they varied from day to day, he was realizing now that his hopes for the future had always held something in common. 

He'd always had you. 

****

The next week seemed never ending. 

Eddie didn't see you once. You were avoiding him. That much was obvious. 

Before the proposal, you made a habit of visiting Sweetheart at least once every day. You liked to brush her as you talked with Eddie, twisting braids into her coarse hair. She was spoiled rotten, no doubt, but that didn't leave the horse feeling any less deprived of attention with the sudden loss of your quality time. She'd gotten fussy over the week, whinnying and pacing in her stall. She'd even started kicking again, when she was feeling particularly agitated. 

Still, you made no appearance at the stable. Eddie was surprised, however, to look over the gate one evening to find Prince Carver walking swiftly through the grass. 

"Your highness." Eddie nodded, spotting the green apple in the man's hand. "Have you come to feed the horses?" 

"Certainly not." Carver scoffed, "I've come on behalf of the Princess. I find it inappropriate for her, as a lady, to be spending time in the stables. 

 I've reassured her that I'll take it upon myself to fulfill any required visits with Sugarplum." 

Eddie frowned, " Forgive me Your Highness, but I think you might be thinking of Sweetheart." 

The man scoffed, slapping the apple down in Eddie's hand before storming off.

 "Whatever the damned thing's name is." 

Eddie swallowed hard, calling after him. "Would you like me to show you how to feed her, Prince Carver?" 

The man laughed cruelly, "Heavens no. That's your job, is it not?" 

**********

"What on earth are you-! Edward Munson!" You gasped, immediately dipping over the stone ledge of your window to reach for him. He laughed, flashing you a boyish grin as he took your hand, pulling himself up and over the sill. 

Christ, you'll crack your skull one day!" You muttered, the both of you giving way to the effort and falling to the floor with a thump. 

"For the present my skull remains intact." He reassured, giving a faux bow of his head. 

You snorted, plucking dead leaves and briars from his thick dark curls. "What on earth put it in your head to climb all the way-" 

Eddie caught your hand, his eyes landing on your engagement ring. His thumb brushed over its stone as your heart sank into your belly. 

"Oh." 

Eddie studied the ring for a moment, taking in its details. There was a long silence. Finally, you spoke. 

"It's a dreadfully heavy thing." You pulled it off, placing it on your bedside table. "It catches on my gown, anyways."

A knowing smile crept to Eddie's lips. He sat in the silence for a moment before reaching into his pocket. 

A small wooden ring was produced, painted delicately along the band with tiny white flowers. He slipped it onto your marriage finger. "How's that one?"

You were breathless. "It..it's..." 

It was perfect. It was the most beautiful ring you'd ever seen, though you couldn't find the words to say so. 

Eddie's thumb brushes over the flowers, "I carved that for you when we were sixteen."

Tears welled in your eyes.

"I had it in my mind to propose to you then. The gardener stopped me when he discovered my plan." He gave a sad chuckle. A comfortable silence hung between you. Eddie took your hand, humming. "Would you have said yes?" 

"Eddie..." A tear rolled down your cheek, only to be brushed away carefully by his ever-gentle hand. You gave a sad laugh, your thumb stroking over his wrist. "You're not being fair." 

"Maybe not." He whispered, "But any man should be damned if he saw you and didn't want to keep you."

"It's cruel." Your voice wavered with emotion. "You know I've loved you since we were children...nothing can be done about it, Eddie."

"Nothing can be done about it?" Eddie gave a humorless laugh, "You're going to be Queen. Everything can be done about it." 

"What would you have me do?" Your brow furrowed. "Tell my father to end our alliance with Hawkins?"

"Yes! Hawkins only seeks to use us for our resources. Forest Hills is better off without their partnership." 

You swallowed thickly. The cicadas sang their response from the Glenside below. Again, Eddie wiped your tears. 

"Love is not something to be kept only for common folk. Your father will understand that. So will your kingdom." 

Something in you crumbled under his gaze. You drew closer, letting him envelope you in his arms. He held you for a long time, stroking your back, sweetly. 

"I spoke to your mother." He cooed, pressing a soft kiss to your hair. Your head tilted back; eyes wide as you stared up at him. 

"Did you?" 

"Yes." His eyes were so warm and brown. You had admired them many times before this, but never quite so closely before. "I knew I was to ask for your hand...I couldn’t very well ask for your father's blessing, so I felt your mother's would be just as valuable. To us, at least."

You smiled, your forehead resting against his. "What did she say?" 

Eddie chuckled at the memory, "She pinched my cheek red. I wish you could've seen it. She cried and held my hand...told me she'd always known I would ask her one day." 

You gave a watery laugh, your fingers lacing tightly with his.

"She said she didn’t know if it was possible for me to make you mine, but that nothing would make her happier." 

There was a long silence. Eddie cradled your face, "Do you feel the same, little Princess?" Your pretty eyes fluttered at his whisper. "Do you love me the way I love you?" 

"How could you even ask?" 

Eddie chuckled, "Because I've done nothing but profess my feelings for you tonight, and now I'd like to hear you do the same." 

You chuckled, your smile fading with thought. 

"I knew...I knew I loved you about five summers ago." Eddie smiled fondly, his cheeks going pink. "We practically lived outside then...the world seemed so bright and warm and I didn't realize then that it was all because of you." You reached up, carding her fingers through his messy hair.  "The sun turned your curls golden on the edges-" 

Before you could finish your sentence, he was kissing you. He was soft and warm and strong, holding you close as you melted for one another. Eddie laughed, breathless, when you parted. "I'm afraid I win, then. I've loved you far longer than that." 

You laughed brightly as he kissed you again, working his way down your jaw to the column of your throat. "When?" You breathed, whimpering as he nipped at the crook of your neck. 

"It's hard to say." He moaned softly as you coaxed him back up to your lips, your hands lacing in his hair. "All I know is that I've never loved you more than I do right now." 

Another tear rolled down his love's cheek. He kissed it away. 

"But why these tears, now? Am I really that terrible?" 

You gave a watery laugh. "No. Not at all I...I just..." You gave a little sob. "I want to marry you. I want to be your bride and keep you always, but I can't-" 

"Marry me, then. Right now." 

You frowned, tucking a strand of his curls behind his ear. "What?" 

Eddie thumbed your ring as he caught your hand. "Do we not have a ring? A gown?" He swallows thickly, eyes darting between your night clothes and the mattress beside you.  "A marriage bed?" 

Slowly, You stood, guiding Eddie to stand before you. "We...we have to make a vow" 

"What kind of vow? I've never been to a wedding." 

You stared up at him, eyes brimming with love. "S-Something about.... For richer and for poorer. Through sickness and in health. From each sun to each moon." 

"May I write my own?" 

A tear rolled down your cheek as you nodded. 

He looked down at your hands, so soft and perfect in his rough ones. "I wish I could tell you that as my wife, you will want for nothing. I wish I could make you flowery promises about how you won't have a care in the world...but since I can't make you those promises, I'll make you the ones I can." 

He knelt before you, gazing up into your eyes. 

"I promise to you that no matter how hot the summer's day, I'll always climb to the highest branches to find you perfect, sun-spotted apples."

You giggled, a grin splitting your cheeks.

"I promise to let you spoil your horse as badly as you wish. Never again will I deprive her of a single sugar cube." 

Another giggle. Eddie kissed your knuckles.

"I promise to kiss you...often and abundantly...until you can't bear to kiss me even once more."

Eddie grinned at your blush. 

"I can't build you castles, but I promise you a home. I promise you food to eat and sturdy walls to keep you warm. I promise you children to nurse and adore." 

Eddie paused, heart fluttering.

"And I promise you love. The same love for you that I've held long since before I even knew what I was feeling." 

His voice wavers. 

"I promise that at the end of our lives, I will still feel it." 

Eddie clasped your hand with his, "So, Princess. If you'll have me...then with this ring, I thee wed." 

You repeated his words, falling to your knees to embrace him. Eddie caught you in his arms as he stood, peppering kisses to your nose, then your cheeks, and finally, your lips. 

His thumb brushed your new ring, gently. "I can't tell you how it feels to see you wearing it." He gave a watery laugh. "It's been sitting on my nightstand for four years now." 

"I wish I could wear it always..." 

"Why can't you?" He pulled back to meet your eyes.

Your expression sunk, "I'm afraid I'm still scheduled to be wed tomorrow morning." 

"Oh, don't be ridiculous." He hummed. "You think I'd allow another man to marry my wife?"

"Eddie..." He scooped you up, laying you gently upon your mattress before sitting beside you. "Promise me you won't do anything stupid tomorrow." 

He chuckled as you combed through his curls with your fingers. "When have I ever been known to do stupid things?" 

"I mean it. You remember what happened the last time someone thought you were a threat to my innocence. It would kill me to see you hurt." Your fingertips grazed the scar on his temple, stiffening at the memory of his head hitting stone. 

There was a long silence as Eddie gazed at the ring. He kissed each of your fingertips slowly. "Do you trust me?" 

"More than anything." 

Eddie smiled at this, holding your hand to his heart, "Then don't worry." 

You gave a hesitant smile. Eddie cradled your body against his, gently combing through your hair. 

"We must leave tonight." He whispered. "Disappear into the woods. If we rode as far as we could on Sweetheart, it would be nearly impossible for them to find us by the time morning came. It would be difficult, but we'd be free." 

Immediately, you tensed. "Eddie, no. He could have you killed if they found us." 

"Then you'd better hold me awfully tight for as long as you can, my love." 

**********

You woke to the sound of water rushing beside you. You laid upon a bed of moss; a thick blanket tucked around you. You felt shade cover you as a figure knelt as your side. A hand on your head, pushing your bangs back lovingly. You stretched and groaned in response, not wishing to leave behind the warmth of your blanket, and kept your eyes closed.

"What a shame." Eddie cooed with a smirk, seeing right through your fib. "My little wife is simply too weak and exhausted to carry on. I suppose I must leave her behind..."

Your eyes flew open, taking his bait. "Leave her behind!?"

Eddie laughed brightly, pulling you into a smiley kiss. You were beginning to think nothing in the world felt better than kissing him.

Eddie's nose nudged against yours as he hummed passively. "Did you know you talk in your sleep?"

Your jaw dropped, "I do not, Eddie Munson."

He giggled, "You most certainly do, Mrs. Munson. We had a whole conversation whilst you slept."

"What about, pray tell?"

Eddie laid on his back beside her, letting her rest against his chest as he tucked his arms behind his head. "How handsome I am."

You smirked, rolling your eyes as you kissed him. The sun was warm and the cool earth beneath you felt like silk beneath your skin.

"I feel like I could do anything I wanted out here. No one could stop me."

"You could." Eddie smirked with another peck. "But I'm afraid we must keep traveling, my love. We still have a long way to go."

"How far are we going?

He tucked hair behind your ear, "So far they'll never find you. So far that it will be impossible for them to take you from me."

You nodded, curling in against him.

"And once we have finally traveled far enough..." Eddie grinned down at you. "I shall build you our cottage by the stream." 

***********

@ali-r3n

@stephanie-nicks76

@penandpage

@the-local-pendeja

@blindbisexualgoose

@eddiemunsonsgf2

@panickedpanko

[starminzoo]

╭──────────────────✎

╰─▗ ▘➤𖥸 dirty my ride

꒰ risa's note ꒱ y'all requested this to be a long fic after this so here it is ;) hope you guys like it 💕

PAIRING: rider! park seonghwa x f! reader (est relation)

SUMMARY: you are so horny and your boyfriend isn't here to tend to you so what do you do?

WARNING: bike humping, slut calling, cursing, dirty talk, unprotected sex, doggy style on bike, bodily fluids on bike, bike sex, reader fainting due to intensity of orgasm, not proof read

you stare mindlessly at the tv while chewing your bottom lip, your legs pressed together to somehow calm your dying need of relief, you were alone in your house so you could help yourself out but after you started dating hwa your toys or your fingers haven't been able to help you reach your orgasm but maybe if you tried harder your toys could be useful but your loving boyfriend had hidden then from you well and you also weren't allowed to use them without his permission. your groaned and fell back against the couch going more restless second by second, turning the tv off you decided to snoop around again for the sake of finding your toys, you had checked your guys bedroom, guestroom, bathroom, even kitchen but they were no where to be found the only place you hadn't checked was the garage so you decided to head towards the direction of it.

the garage was also labeled as hwa's office (kinda) as he mostly spent his time there fixing and tuning his bike and sometimes his friends too so you had some hope that your toys could be there, as you opened the door you were greeted with the dimly lit up room so decided to turn on the lights and started to search for your belongings, the garage was well organized and clean so you it didn't took you much time to scan out the whole room, now standing in the middle on the room glaring at seonghwa in the picture that was hanging on the wall "fucking asshole" you muttered under your breath, you were about to head out when your gaze fell on the dark blue sleek bike standing there.

this bike was gifted to you by your boyfriend but you still didn't knew how to drive well so it was standing in the garage for most of the time, your feet moved forward in the direction of it admiring it when suddenly an idea popped up in your head, for 5 solid minutes you stood there contemplating your decision but your arousal grew more as you thought about it, without wasting much time you discarded your shorts and panties now just in a baggy shirt you grabbed the keys from the shelf and started the bike and revved it a bit the sound echoing through the whole room.

after examining the bike stand so you won't fall off you got on the bike, a low moan leaving your mouth as your bare wet core came in contact with the cold metal frame, steading yourself on it you started humping on it, the vibrations causing your cunt to flow like a river, after moving cautiously on it you started to increase your pace because the only thing on your mind was to achieve your deserved orgasm, a high pitched moan left your mouth as you revved the bike a bit more fuck did that felt like heaven, your hands slithered there way in your shirt pulling it off as you fingers pinched your nipples, the room filled with the sounds of your needy moans and bike engine.

as you felt the knot in your stomach was about to combust you increased your pace, now grinding faster chasing after the blissful feeling, revving the bike a bit more your orgasm rushed over you leaving you a panting and shivering mess, with teary eyes and swollen red lips from biting a complete fucked out mess.you turned off the bike , as you caught your breath, eyes closed and head limply resting against the handle of the bike the presence of your boyfriend went unnoticed by you, who was at loss of words starting at you both in shock and amazement, the whole ordeal made him hard as a rock and the only thing going through his mind was how good he was about to fuck you so next time you wouldn't be able to find relief with your new toy.

silently taking his own gear off except the gloves he now stood there in the room in a black tank top and his underwear and moved his feet in your direction, as he now stood hovering over he gently laid his hands on your plump hips, the sudden contact caused you to jerk up now face to face with your loving boyfriend "hwa when did you-u got home?" you asked him still in shock "just in time to watch the whole slutty show my slutty lover puts on behind me hmmm am I right my lil slut" " yeh did you liked it baby" you giggled and asked him as his hands started to roam around your body "fuckin' *kiss* loved *kiss* every *kiss* sec *kiss* of *kiss* it *kiss* baby *kiss*".

seonghwa's tongue was now intertwined with your own, his gloved hands on your hips and breasts groping and slapping them equally providing them with attention, your own hands tangled up in his hair and palming his aching cock "am gonna fuck you so good your new toy wont be of use anymore" he murmured against your lips diving again for a sloppy kiss "oh yeah prove it baby" taking your words as a challenge he detached his lips form yours and got behind you on the bike his feet still on the ground due to his height, lifting your hips up from the frame he glanced at the mess you made, cursing under his breath that 'how fucking hot is that' he pushed his boxers down, his cock sprang up tip angry red and leaking "arch for me baby" he ordered and you did as he said and arched your back now both your holes on display for him.

he grabbed your ass cheeks in his gloved hands pulling them more apart and spat on your already leaking cunt, groaning at the sight, he grabbed his cock and pushed only the head in teasing you "hwaaa~ you afraid of the chal- ahh fuck" before you could complete your sentence he rammed himself inside you till his balls smacked against your core, taking your arms in his one hand he held them on your back completely restricting you from any movement and with other he turned on the bike and revved it harshly while moving balls deep inside you "feelin' so good baby fuck", you mouth now only spewing moans and curses about how 'good it feels' while tears fell from your eyes.

seomghwa kept ramming in you hard and fast while his hand smacked and smoothed your ass cheeks each at a time making your mind hazy and stars in your eyes as your second orgasm rushed over you "fuck did you just came baby noo we were suppose to cum together come on give me another" he revved the bike again making you scream due of the sensitivity leaning down against your back his pace became inhumane while he nipped and sucked at your neck and shoulders, you were sure if it wasn't for him to be still standing you would have gone flying forward as a result of his pace "cummin' huh ahh cummin' cummin" you managed to speak some words in between the train of your moans "yes baby give it to me just like that" he buried his face in your back as he groaned his heart out as your walls clenched tightly around his cock, as he coated your walls white with his own cum.

both of your figures shivering and twitching, you both sat there for awhile catching your breaths after a few minutes of seonghwa detached himself from you his hands leaving your arms as the limply fell off your sides and pulled himself out of you, he stared in awe as both your juices seeped out of your whole and ran down the bike making him almost hard again taking a mental picture of it he, helped you off the bike and turned it off now carrying you in bridal style as you fell asleep (or fainted due the pleasure) seeing your sleepy state he took it as a win that he definitely won the challenge.

now this is totallyyyyy fictional but never try this irl man we don't know what might happen so stay safe and don't try doing weird shit this just fictional purposes

[genericpuff]

All That Glitters is Not Feminism - An Analysis of LO's Brand of "Feminism" and What Remains of its Fanbase (The Twist)

Alright y'all, I've been waiting a hot minute to talk about this because I wanted to see how it fully panned out before saying anything about it. And it's not even specifically about LO, but I do think it's very adjacent to it in a way that I'm sure you'll be shocked to hear. Much of it speaks to how we prop up white writers even at the expense of POC.

This is 'the twist' attached to my first post that I made just a couple hours ago that concerns an entirely other topic but I feel ties into this subject very well.

If you haven't heard, there's this author who recently fucked around in the Del Rey publishing scene.

Her name is Cait Corrain.

In the original tweet calling this person out, names were not dropped, but it was made very clear that what Cait did was unacceptable behavior.

You can read the entire thread that started it all from Xiran here:

There's also a GREAT recap thread from one of the affected authors, Bethany Baptiste:

I want to make it clear that Cait Corrain isn't just a debut author.

Cait Corrain is - or now, was (foreshadowing is a literary device that-) - a debut author who had an agent, a publishing deal with Del Rey (an imprint of Random House which is a MAJOR publisher) and even an upcoming Illumicrate deal - meaning, her book was going to be packaged in a monthly loot crate subscription shipped directly to people's doors, quite possibly one of the best marketing deals a debut author could ever get, usually unheard of in this industry. All the pre-reviews were strong and positive.

Cait's book was literally set up for success. All she had to do was sit back, relax, and watch the fruits of her labors roll in. She had written the book. It was ready for release. The hard part was technically over.

But I guess the racism brainrot got to her because as it turns out, since April - for EIGHT MONTHS - she's been making alternate accounts on GoodReads to review bomb the indie and debut works of her friends and peers, most of whom were POC and did not have the same opportunities set up for them as she did. There are loads of receipts to back this up that you can find in those above threads ^^^

To say that this is appalling is an understatement. This was an intentional and deliberate act of racism by a white queer writer who claimed to be "jealous" - of what, I can't imagine - so much so that she deliberately sabotaged her peers, people who had supported her and her book.

And then when she got caught? She doubled down on it and claimed it was a "friend", also an alternate account she made up.

The exchange between her and this made-up person is actually the funniest shit out of this entire thing, it's so poorly written and as soon as people noticed the time stamps were out of order, that was when it truly cemented her newfound clown status.

"oooooh he's standing right behind me, isn't he?" energy right here LMAO

yes keep expositing cait, that's really selling the "this is a genuine conversation that really happened with a real person" bit 🤡

Anyways, it became abundantly clear that Cait was just going to continue to dig her heels in over something she caused.

This has been a hot topic in the UnpopularLO Discord, not just because of how crazy of a situation it is that we had to talk about it - and we have people within the community who work in the literature and media sector - but because we noticed one very telling thing in the list of series that she had review bombed in her very own personal act of wrath.

You see, Cait made one fundamental mistake that led to her undoing - she didn't just review bomb the works of her peers, she positively reviewed her own book and others.

What's her book about though?

It's an Ariadne x Dionysus retelling set in space.

It's literally another "modern retelling" of Greek myth.

And wouldn't you know it, guess who else created a modern retelling of Greek myth that she included in her positive review raiding while she was sabotaging the work of her actual peers?

Now, I think it goes without saying that what I'm about to say should be taken with MOUNTAINS of salt, I'm sure a lot of you are reading the headline and going, "Ugh, really? You're gonna make this about LO? Could you give it a rest already???"

I need you to understand, with the current state of Rachel's fanbase and 'modern' Greek myth literature as a whole, at this point Lore Olympus - and the works that are literally inspired by it such as A Touch of Darkness - has basically become the shopping cart litmus test of basic decency. It's like when someone says they like Harry Potter - you can't take it automatically at good faith anymore, because there isn't a whole lot separating someone who simply liked Harry Potter as a kid and still rewatches the movies from time to time from someone who fully supports the politics and agenda of J.K. Rowling. No, not everyone who still watches the movies or reads the books fondly is a TERF by default, but it's justifiably a reason for suspicion when the consequences are often too dire to risk.

There's this thing that's been happening in the LO fanbase that I frankly saw coming, but has really recently started to hit its peak. It's what I call the "Kanye Effect", where the comic has become so absurd and backwards in its misogyny and white feminism that the only people who seem to be left supporting LO are the people who are legitimate white feminists and misogynists - because all the normal level-headed people fell off the comic ages ago (or transitioned into the critical side of the community).

I mentioned it in my last post, but it bears repeating - Rachel's fanbase has literally been shipping Hera, a victim of abuse, with her abuser, Kronos. I'm really hoping a lot of them realize how fucked up that is now that Hera herself has called it what it is - abuse - within the comic, but I also can't count on the LO fanbase picking up on that or even noticing it with how quickly people swipe through it each week, it's very apparent at this point that most of LO's readers don't know how to chew their food and don't pay attention when Persephone and Hades aren't onscreen.

But I'm digressing. Or am I? We're talking about Crown of Starlight after all. The debut Dionysus x Ariadne sci-fi/fantasy romance that was quite literally advertised using Lore Olympus as its baseline-

This. This is what the ongoing cultural erasure and white feminist uwu-fication of Greek myth is doing to the literary zeitgeist surrounding Greek myth as a whole. This is why we criticize Lore Olympus and works like it that are created by disingenuous people who only seek to use the assets of Greek myth material as a way to shoot themselves up into fame and stardom. This is why we demand better standards in the literature and webcomic industry, so that people like Rachel and Cait can't use their privileges to quite literally erase the source material that they used to make themselves famous in the first place.

If anything, Cait's actions didn't just affect the people she negatively review bombed, or the people she was affiliated with, but also the people she positively reviewed. While I don't support what Rachel creates, she wasn't the only one who Cait went out of her way to review positively from her alt accounts, there were many others as evident in the Google Doc - but all this really does is tarnish the legitimacy of these books and their ratings by artificially jacking up their numbers that are advertised to others.

Making Greek myth fanfiction or fun creative retellings was never the problem, but it's now being sabotaged alongside so many other genres and mediums by toxic white individuals who can't even keep themselves from committing hate crimes, let alone create something purely for entertainment that's transparent in its illegitimacy, lest it destroy the illusion that these people are qualified to speak over those whose voices are being stifled, often by these very same people. Many of these writers get caught and are still allowed to continue what they're doing - that was certainly what we feared with Cait.

Until today.

It was revealed today that Cait's book will no longer be featured in the Illumicrate May 2024 box.

Del Rey has dropped Crown of Starlight from their publishing schedule.

Daphne Press will be hopefully following suit.

And, most telling of all, Cait's own agent has severed ties with her.

For anyone not familiar with the inner workings of the publishing industry, Cait has essentially been blacklisted. Without an agent or a publishing house, she'll have to entirely rely on her own resources through self-publishing. Unless she manages to sneak her way back in under an alias (which I wouldn't put it past her to try) she no longer has access to the mainstream publishing industry that was already guaranteed for her before she let her 'jealousy' get the better of her.

Her career was already made for her. She had a red carpet laid out for her debut. Her book was getting good pre-reviews and she had quite literally nothing keeping her from her success. The best thing she could have done was nothing. Somewhere in her head, she made up a threat that didn't exist, and sealed her fate in acting on it, a self-fulfilling prophecy.

I think in these situations such as with Cait Corrain, Rachel Smythe, and - also recently and relevant - James Somerton, we need to become increasingly aware of how white voices are still overpowering POC voices, not just in their actions, but in the opportunities they're given over others which they then use to further stifle the voices of those they feel "threatened" by or feel entitled to speak over. While neither James nor Rachel have used sock puppet accounts to "take out the competition" (at least as far as we know lmao) James did quite literally steal the words and voices of queer writers who were deserving of their time in the spotlight, and Rachel's work is being quoted as "rewriting Greek myth" as if its blatant gentrification and appropriation should be marketed as some sort of positive.

It's all too common for these deeply-rooted prejudices to rear their ugly heads and for the people who carry them to act out in this way while justifying it as "jealousy" or "a mistake". This isn't jealousy. This isn't a mistake. This isn't someone "starting drama". This is genuine, targeted hate, with the intention of snuffing out the voices of others who should be empowered, not silenced.

All that time and effort, and for what? Racism and petty jealousy? It just goes to show, it doesn't matter how many opportunities you're given, how high up on the ladder you already are - it won't fix the deeply-rooted insecurity and racial pettiness that spurs people on to do such horrible things.

I've spent enough of my time and words today talking about Cait, and James, and Rachel. So to end this off, I want to join in with all the others who have highlighted the books that were review-bombed by Cait, and help in uplifting them so they can have successful debuts. I'll be pre-ordering a few of them, so I'll be happy to make dedicated posts for them in the future after they release. Please consider purchasing them for yourself if you want some new reading material <3

The Poisons We Drink by Bethany Baptiste:

So Let Them Burn by Kamilah Cole:

To Gaze Upon Wicked Gods by Molly X Chang:

Mistress of Lies by K.M. Enright

Voyage of the Damned by Frances White:

(I'm sure there are plenty others so if I missed any here, please let me know so I can add them here and check out their books!)

If there's any silver lining to this, I hope that it makes people aware of the media they consume and who it's being created by. I hope it makes people more willing to seek out the books that aren't getting the same opportunities as Cait Corrain and Rachel Smythe. I hope it's a wake-up call to the industry that matters like this need to be taken seriously and that POC writers are still being silenced under their own noses. And most of all, I hope it's a reminder that we shouldn't even need at this point that this behavior is not okay, no matter what level a person climbs to - that just because someone is part of one minority doesn't mean they're not capable of sabotaging another. It sucks that that has to be said, it sucks that despite these groups being so intersectional there are still people within them who submit to their deeply-rooted insecurities and find ways to feel threatened that they use to justify hateful behavior.

Having a platform is a privilege. It should never be weaponized against your own peers or those who you simply feel "threatened" by for no reason beyond your own imposter syndrome or doubts or internal struggles. Because as much as you may feel like you've earned where you are, that never gives you the right to weaponize your opportunities against others who were never given those same opportunities in the first place. "Feminism" is not using your power to crush "other women". "Progressiveness" is not exclusive to the progress that only benefits you.

I wish only the best to those who were affected by the actions of Cait Corrain. You deserve to be heard and seen and appreciated for the work you do and the abuse you've had to tolerate. I look forward to your debuts in 2024 <3

[for-a-longlongtime]

Guilty Pleasure (6/7) - dbf!Joel Miller x reader

An open bar and Joel in a tailored black outfit mean trouble at your father's garden party. Enough reason to do something you haven't done before.

Rating: Explicit, 18+ only, mdni 🔞🔥 Series warnings (tba): Age gap (reader is 22, Joel is 43), masturbation (f), use of sex toys, oral sex, PiV, anal, hair pulling, dirty talk, getting caught, playful use of 'daddy', outrageous flirting, groping, reference to m/m, Joel's arms should always come with a warning. No outbreak!AU. Word count: 3.4K A/N: I finished writing the final chapter last night and y'all, I'm giddy as fuck. Big BIG thanks to @milla-frenchy and @reallyrallyauthor for your support and reading Part 6 and 7 early to make sure this hits juuust right!

< part 5 | series masterlist | main masterlist

There are too many people in your backyard. Mingling, chatting, networking, kissing ass - all accompanied by canapés that are too fancy, beer that is so painfully hip and micro-brewed that you don’t even want to try it, and outfits intended to seem semi-casual yet also upstage everybody. You hate these gatherings. It’s far from the first time you’ve had to endure them because of your father’s work, though. Even your grandmother liked reminding you when you were little that your grandfather also hosted affairs like this. “It’s important to build connections.”

You don’t care. All you give a damn about tonight - or maybe these days, if you are honest with yourself - was Joel, dressed like a fucking vision. Well fitting black pants, that you suspect are tailored, an ever better fitting black dress shirt which is absolutely tailored, and matching black boots. His hair, usually curly and messy, now looks so sharp that you wonder if he got a haircut this morning; it’s a little shorter, definitely neater, and brushed back a little.

But what your eyes keep going back to the most are the few buttons on his shirt that are undone, showing off his tanned skin and a smattering of freckles you had barely noticed before. It makes you want to trace every single one with your tongue and find out if he would whine when you'd suck a hickey on his neck.

He’s at the bar, waiting for his drink, so you slide in right next to him and bump against his arm. “Hey. Don’t tell me you’re drinking those craft beers?”

“Jesus. No, of course not.” 

The expression on his face is one of instant disgust, and you can’t help but laugh at the candid response. “Wow, didn’t think there’d be someone else who’d hate them as much as I do.”

Joel grumbles something, then gives the bartender a nod as he takes a glass of whiskey from him. When the guy turns to you to take your order, you point at Joel’s glass. “I’ll have whatever he’s having.”

The guy gives you a doubtful look. “Can I see some ID?”

“Yes, you can. It’s called ‘I’m the daughter of the guy who is paying your salary tonight’ and I’m twenty two. Thanks for making that drink now.” You stare at him, daring him to push back against you - you are NOT in the mood for this tonight, especially not in front of Joel. After a few moments, the bartender sighs and shrugs as he turns around, reaching for a glass and some ice. You can feel Joel’s eyes on you, so you turn towards him to give him a similar look. “What? Go ahead. Say it.”

“Say what?”

“That I’m being a brat.”

“Nah.” Joel shakes his head as he sips from his whiskey. “You’d just get off on that. That’s not brattiness - you’re actually being rude,” he says, then wanders off to go talk to someone nearby.

You stare at him with an open mouth, anger starting to creep into you. How the fuck does he dare to just say something like that to you? It hurts, and most of all it gives you a pang of concern that maybe you’ve ruined your chances with him - between this and the way he responded at the pool a few days ago.

“Oh honey, forget about it.” The bartender gives you a look that’s bordering on pity and disdain, his inflection drastically different all of a sudden as he pushes a glass towards you. “That man ain’t into you. Wouldn’t touch you with a ten foot pole. Why don’t you go find somebody of your own age to play with, hmmm?”

“Why don’t you go fuck yourself?”, you snap at him as you grab the glass and stalk off, his words feeling like claws that have sunk into your skin and won’t let go of you. The burn of the liquor doesn’t help you in the way you’d hoped for, and you find yourself craving something stronger, sweeter. Anything that’ll help you take the edge off.

Anything, in this case, turns out to be 6’3”, blond, looks like a jock and is named… Brady? Brody? Brad. Ben. Blake. Something like that, you can’t remember, but it’s unimportant after having chatted with him for all of ten minutes. What matters is that he’s not a bad kisser, smells fine - not woodsy like Joel unfortunately - and his hands are large as well as eager, pressing you with your back against the solid wood of the pergola. 

If it wouldn’t ruin the mood for him, you probably would’ve laughed at the irony of making out with Blaine - Brandon? Brayden? No. Bruno. Bruce. Barry. Maybe it was Chad after all - right against the pergola that Joel had built over the past couple of days. 

You’d been watching Joel from your bay window, his muscles straining in the sun, while he grunted the way you had memorized from his Instagram videos. And for all of those three days, you’d had several orgasms as you’d watched him. Some of them were thanks to your fingers, others due to toys - varying from the small bullet vibe to the thrusting rabbit vibrator you used for longer sessions. But in the end, all of this had been going on for too long. The flirting, the way you’d feel him look at you regularly, the build up of tension; it had you feral by now, and you just wanted Joel.

You are gonna get him. Soon. Even if it means needing to make him jealous.

“Should we- should we go inside?” Jock guy pauses his kisses, leaning his forehead against yours as he runs his hands down your body, and you can feel him press hot and heavy against your thigh. Fuck, he is hung. “We’ll have some more privacy, and…”

“No, this is fine,” you say quickly, your eyes scanning the crowd of people across the yard. Most of them are unaware of your makeout session, and your glance slides right past them, but suddenly you detect Joel not too far away from where you are. He is staring right at you, gripping his whiskey glass in your hand, and when the guy next to him says something, he only shakes his head, not breaking his glance with you.

“Are you…”

“I said this is fine,” you said sharply to the guy with his hands on your hips. A frown plays over his face, and in a gesture of good will you let your hand brush over the crotch of his pants, tracing the outline of his dick. “Nobody is watching.”

He groans, his lips finding yours again as he pushes himself against your hand. You kiss him back eagerly this time, your arms around him as you turn him just the slightest bit so you can keep your view of Joel. He’s talking to the guy next to him now, a back and forth conversation, but every now and then his eyes slide back to you, and then there’s a nod he gives you that makes you shiver.

Baxter, or Bart, Bobby, or whatever the hell his name is, slips his hand under your skirt, and you moan when his fingertips trace your lacy underwear. You hear how he sucks in air for a second, then his chest almost puffs up in pride at how wet he finds you. Silly guy. He thinks it’s because of him, that his not-too-bad kisses have riled you up so much. Has no damn clue how Joel’s eyes are back on you again.

“Touch me,” you breathe at him, and then hold your breath when he does so. Thick fingers - though not as thick as Joel’s - slipping under the fabric of your panties, pulling them to the side while your eyes remain locked on Joel. You’re trying to merge the touches with your fantasies and the visual of Joel right in front of you, conjuring up his voice. You think of the way he’d tease you with slow, playful strokes over your pussy, each time a little more focused on your clit, making you delirious with need before he’d even consider sliding a finger into your soaked cunt.

But reality seems more than unwilling to blend with your fantasies. While initially the guy seemed to smell fine, you’re now noticing the overwhelming amount of generic fuck boy cologne he’s wearing, the scent unsettling and clearly something Joel would never even wear. He doesn’t smell like a hard day’s work on Joel does and his hands are too smooth, too well taken care of. No roughness from manual labor whatsoever, no finesse to tease you, and definitely not much muscle memory on how to properly get a woman going. 

Instead he’s just clumsy, perhaps because all the blood has rushed to his cock that’s pressing insistently against you. Substitute-Joel’s fingers slide over your folds only one disappointing time, clearly not even attempting to find your clit. He fumbles around as his own breathing grows heavy, then suddenly tries to push two fingers inside of you - without any further prep or even checking if that’s okay with you. 

It abruptly ruins the horny spell you’d been under several minutes ago, and you swear as you grab his hand to stop him, your pussy strongly objecting to his fingers trying to invade you. 

“Hey! Fucking hell,” you hiss, pulling his hand out of your underwear before he can go any further. “You always fingerbang girls without properly prepping them?”

“What? You’re practically dripping on me,” he hisses back as he looks confused. But you’re not about to end up in a discussion about how being wet doesn’t mean he can just shove his fingers inside of you - let alone without any warning.

“Never mind,” you say as you push him away from you, then straighten your clothes as you move away from the pergola. “Let’s just forget this happened, okay? I’ve gotta go say hi to someone.”

“Bitch,” he mutters at you, adjusting his tie and the collar of his shirt. On most days you would’ve gladly torn him a new asshole for that, but you’re just not in the mood to further engage with him. So you start to head into Joel’s direction, but then see that he seems to have moved elsewhere, leaving you to look around in confusion.

You look up when you hear a group of men laugh, and see your father shake some hands as he offers his audience a few more words. Joel is there too, you realize, still with a drink in his hand. Your father gives him a friendly pat on his arm, which is returned with Joel’s signature nod, as he then heads over to some other people who look more than eager to greet him. It makes your skin crawl to see him acting like some kind of politician, eager to make a good impression on everyone, and you quickly turn away from him to look back at Joel - who is now looking straight at you again, without saying anything.

It’s not until you’re back at the bar for another whiskey - you’ve lost track of how many you’ve had - that he shows up next to you, giving you a gentle nudge like you had done to him earlier. “D’you eat anything recently?”, he asks, absentmindedly playing with a coaster on the bar. You can smell the smokey alcohol on his breath, see that the buttons on his shirt are just a little more opened than they were a little while ago, and it just makes you ache for him.

“Shut up, Joel,” you mutter, but he doesn’t follow your suggestion - instead he picks up the whiskey that the bartender slides over to you and takes a sip of it.

“A water for her, please?”, he asks, then covers the liquor glass with his hand when you try to reach for it. “No. You’re done.”

You’re starting to seethe at this point. “Who the fuck you think you are telling me how much I can drink?,” you snap at him. His eyes are infuriatingly calm, but the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips makes it clear he’s a lot more amused than you are.

“Easy, darling. Just looking out for you, okay?” He pushes the glass of ice water on the counter over to you, but you have half a mind to throw it at him.

“Why are you bothering me?”

His eyebrows raise at the word ‘bothering’, but he doesn’t quite respond to it. “Just have some water and food,” he says softly. “You’ll feel like shit if you don’t.” 

“You’re drunk too.”

Joel rolls his eyes at you. “Yeah, well… have to get through this all somehow, don’t I? Been drinking water too, though.” He gives you a look as he takes another sip of whiskey, sighing.

“I don’t get why you’re here.” Your head is spinning a little, but at this point you’re not sure if it’s the booze or proximity to Joel that’s getting to you. The memory of that jock guy’s cologne is far from your mind by now, replaced now by that smell that you crave - the cologne you would recognize anywhere, layered with Joel’s own scent. And it’s driving you mad. “Nobody is making you, unlike they’re doing with me.” 

A smile plays over Joel’s face and he shrugs. “Your mom asked me.”

You can’t help but laugh. “My— what? And that’s why you’re voluntarily subjecting yourself to all of this?” You gesture around the yard, the groups of stuffy people, pretentious bite sized food and music that makes you desperately want to connect your phone to the speaker system. “I’ve been to so many of these. It’s awful, every single time.”

You’re waiting for him to tell you it’s not that bad, or even that you should suck it up. But instead he simply doesn’t respond, and only gives you a raised eyebrow as he has some more whiskey. When he puts the glass down on the bar, you impulsively swipe it and drain it before he can interfere, waiting for an actual retort this time. 

A frown slides onto his face and you grin almost triumphantly at the reaction, pushing the empty glass back towards him, only ice cubes remaining in it now. “I think you like dramatic,” you then blurt out, and see how he blushes slightly, the red flush creeping up from his chest to his neck.

“That what you think?” His eyes flick over you, and you nod, poking him in the chest with your finger. 

“Yeah. You’re… practical. Proper. Maybe kinda boring. You got your routine.” You really should stop talking with all that liquor in your system, but you refuse to admit he was right about you needing to sober up. “Maybe getting close to a midlife crisis? Working your job and then all the reno on your house. Don’t see you chill a whole lot.” 

You run your finger a little down his chest, then place your full hand against his shirt as you lean over to his ear. “I think you want some fun,” you whisper in his ear, barely audible due to the music playing at the party. “Somebody who shakes things up. Brings a little drama and excitement.”

Joel’s eyes are slightly unfocused from the whiskey, just like yours probably are, and you can tell that his guard is down in ways that you haven’t experienced before. “Old, huh? Boring, old, and close to a midlife crisis,” he says after a moment, a smirk on his face as he shakes his head. “But you would shake things up? Why would you bother with an old man?”

“Maybe I’m into that.” You bite your lip as you hesitate for a moment. “The whole DILF thing. And don’t think I haven’t noticed you watching me.”

His smirk widens into an actual grin now as he laughs, looking away at some commotion or a gathering that’s happening at the party. When he looks back at you, his eyes are darker than usual, and you can’t help but feel a shiver run down your spine.

“Little girl. You are in over your head.” His words are measured and quiet as he seems to pick them carefully, his hand now reaching for yours that’s still resting against his chest, and he gently pulls it off his shirt. “ Y’don’t even have a clue of what you’re playing with, darling. What are you gonna do? Rock my world? At your father’s party?”

“I don’t give a shit about his party,” you say sharply, but he shakes his head, interrupting you.

“But that’s the thing. You do,” he murmurs. “Y’couldn’t be more thrilled than to do so here, just to make a scene. Like you did with that guy.”

You feel victorious hearing him confirm that he had been watching you, and together with his ‘little girl’ comment it’s enough to make you soak your panties on the spot. “Were you jealous?”, you ask him challengingly.

He chuckles again, this time getting up from the barstool, and you take in his physique, admiring the way those tailored pants fit around his thighs. “Have some more water. And food,” he tells you, and in the split second you have before he turns away, you make up your mind. Perhaps it’s more like instinct, to do what you’ve been stopping yourself from doing for a while now. 

You grope him. 

Fingers quick as you cup him through his pants, closing around his balls and a part of his dick. It takes effort to bite back a whimper at finally feeling him, thick and hot and heavy in your hand, after all those weeks that you’ve been here and tried to figure out what the right move was. You hold his eyes defiantly, lips parted as you’d like to use your words but they all seem stuck in your throat.

His surprised intake of air when you grab him is immediate, and he looks frazzled as he shakes his head, tugging your hand abruptly away from his cock. “You out of your damn mind?”, he hisses, looking more than just a little flustered. “In front of everyfuckingbody?”

“So come insi—” The words die on your tongue when you suddenly see your mom approaching from a couple of feet behind Joel, unaware of what’s happening between the two of you, but apparently in search of you as she calls your name. Joel and you immediately step away from each other, him leaning against the bar as he seems to need a moment to compose himself. You have even less time to plaster a smile on your face for your mother, so you just nod enthusiastically as she rambles at you about some person’s son you should come meet. Your heart feels like it’s hammering out of your chest as you force yourself to tell her that you’d love to meet them, bringing a smile to your mom’s face.

Just as you’re about to join her to meet this person, your mom pauses at the bar and puts her hand on Joel’s shoulder. “By the way, he said that he could use your help with moving that thing, if you have time? Think he’s inside, couldn’t find you,” she said, and Joel nods while humming something affirmatively. His eyes flit to you for a split second before he looks down at the bar again, and he seems to wait until the two of you have moved away until he goes inside.    

You’re in a mild daze as you follow your mom through the crowd, performing the role you’re expected to play, while the moment that you grabbed Joel plays on repeat in your head. The gasp that spilled from his lips, the way he didn’t say “no” - just “in front of everybody?”, which was an entirely different thing, and frankly… he wasn’t wrong.

You can wait. Just that little bit longer. It’ll be so worth it.

Joel's outfit at the party (as a dress shirt and pants instead of a jumpsuit):

series masterlist | main masterlist

Thank you for reading, commenting or reblogging - I appreciate it so very much 🙏

🚨 Follow @longlongtime-updates + turn on notifs to see when the finale drops later this week!

[tragedy-machine]

Payneland fic rec list part 4!

1. Reach Out And Touch Faith - Edwin stops touching Charles; Charles doesn't deal well with it, Charles angst my beloved <3 and yes you could say I'm biased towards this fic hihi

2. I Turned Back One Last Time (just to prove you were there) - touchy Charles, paranoid that Edwin will get snatched again if he lets him out of his sight, Charles angst again

3. I'll let you go if you kiss me goodbye - "didn't know they were dating" trope, which is my favorite trope ever so I love this so dearly, believe me when I tell you I haven't been able to stop thinking about this fic since I read it!!!

4. The Problem of Forever - they meet a couple of ghosts and Edwin internalizes some shit about their fucked up relationship, Edwin angst for a change

5. feel - Edwin decided to put some distance between them and Charles takes it as a personal challenge, lol, touchy Charles yet again! and Edwin suffers for it

6. True Love's Kiss - Charles acquires a love potion and uses it to resolve his ongoing issue, Edwin suffers for it again lmao

7. something reluctant to let go - Edwin falls down into the sea, and what is Charles supposed to do? not jump after him? love this idea

8. boyfriend jacket - 5+1 times when Charles gave Edwin his jacket and one time Edwin stole it, it's a good jacket, who can blame him

I always try to reply under people's posts searching for fic recs with specific tropes so if anyone has a trope they'd like a a few recs for, feel free to drop an ask in my inbox and I'll scour my bookmarks for something for y'all!

And here's part 3 of the list, happy reading!

[strawbeerossi]

The Party Trick

18+ Content. Minors DNI

Pairing: fem!reader x Spencer Reid

Description: After seeing a tutorial on how to pick a lock on handcuffs, reader decides to put it to the test to have a new party trick to show the others at the BAU. After doing it a few times with each hand, she gets bold and cuffs both wrists, leaving her trapped, until Spencer comes over and things get interesting.

Content Warning: Coarse language, panic, fear of embarrassment, restraints, Spencer laughs and teases reader, sub Spencer, Dom reader, mean reader, humiliation fetish, praising, degradation, orgasm denial, oral (m receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex.

Word Count: 3.2K

Y'all, I'm nervous as fuck to post this lmao. This has been in the drafts for a while. I'm not the best with smut because I haven't written it in a while. This is your warning. Read at your own risk.

Part two

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“This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever done.” Y/N spoke aloud to herself, an agitated huff leaving her lips.

An hour ago, she’d been watching some random YouTube videos, just mainly to pass the time. There was all sorts of dumb shit she watched, although when she came across a video or a man showing how to pick the locks of a handcuff with a bobby pin, it captured her interest. It seemed simple enough, cuff one hand to something beside you then use the bobby pin to pick the keyhole and free yourself.

She had way too much fun as she figured out exactly how to do it, starting with handcuffing herself to the handle on the nightstand. It took about five minutes to get herself free, the woman switching wrists eventually and getting herself freed with more practice.

Then she got cocky. All she could picture was using this as a party trick, having someone handcuff her hands behind her back while she used the pin that she could hide in the palm of her hand to escape. Then everyone would be astonished and impressed. So, she was determined to make that dream a reality.

It all happened so fast. She had the pin in the palm of her right hand, securely held as she used her left to cuff right wrist. In an attempt to close it with her hand still clamped around the pin, she did her best to lock the cuffs around her left wrist. However, in the act of finding a way to lock it, the pin slipped from yer grasp just as she had her wrists cuffed behind her back. 

“Fuck!” She cursed, panic setting in from being trapped without anyone to help her. So, in an awkward attempt to lean down to grab the only thing that could free her, she was bending in all sorts of positions to try and secure the hairpin that was laying on the floor, almost taunting her. Well, now she’d be stuck in her apartment until someone figured out she was missing. Then she’d more than likely have a whole team of people to bust down her door and then laugh at her.

This was the opposite that she wanted. Now she’d be the talk of the team for trapping herself in handcuffs while trying some stupid attempt to free herself. She could already hear all the shit Derek would tease her with now.

“The amazing Y/N, going to show us the special trick that not all fbi agents should be trusted with handcuffs!”

“You know, you shouldn’t play with the tools we are given for the field.”

Derek fucking Morgan.

There was a sigh of defeat as Y/N was accepting her fate of being known for the idiot on the team who gets herself trapped.

However, she was pulled out of her thoughts when she could hear a knock against her apartment door. Thank God! Hopefully it was a family member or something. They’d understand that she did dumb things sometimes and would let her live it down more than her coworkers would.

While hurrying and running from her room like a criminal trying to escape capture with the cool metal of the handcuffs stabbing into their flesh, she was stopping at the front door. “Hold on!” She called, turning around first to try and reach the lock so she could unlock the door. However, when it wasn’t working out, she was huffing from irritation and turning around. She ended up having to use her mouth to unlock the top lock, same with the bottom.

“You’ll have to open the door!” She called, taking a few steps back. However, her heart dropped when she seen who was on the other side of the door. The only reason she was alerted of his presence early was from the way he was asking if she was alright. The moment that Spencer Reid came into view, Y/N face was bright red from embarrassment.

“Not a word of this to the team!” Her voice came out in a squeak, making the genius snort out a laugh as he walked around the woman after closing the door behind him. “How did you even manage to trap yourself?” He asked, not giving her time to answer.

“Y/N Houdini.” He snickered as he was stopping and bringing his hands to run over the metal of the cuffs restraining her arms behind her back. “Is this gonna be your debut into escapism magic? Cause I think you have to actually know how to escape to put on a show.” He continued on.

The words had Y/N’s face growing hotter from the teasing, a huff leaving her lips. “Get your laughs out. Come on.” She demanded while turning around soon after. “Piss me off and I’ll cuff you to your desk at the office and swallow the key.” Of course, all talk and no action from a woman who essentially trapped herself.

“Are you kidding?! I wouldn’t let you. Besides, I’ve seen enough of escapism magic to know how to escape.. Without losing the thing that will grant me freedom.” He commented while grabbing ahold of the cuffs while he chuckled. "Show me where the key is." He spoke, his tone level as the humor of the situation was losing it's power over him.

It wasn't fully lost on him though. In fact, he'd never let her live it down. "You know, the others would've probably forgot about this at some point.." He trailed off, looking around the walls decorated with tapestries, pictures, and some other miscellaneous wall decor. "I, however, will not." He smirked.

Stupid fucking eidetic memory.

"Ha ha. You're hilarious."

"I think you take the cake for being hilarious. Everyone is gonna love this story. I'm sure that even Hotch will get a laugh out of it."

"I hate you."

In reality, it was.. Kinda funny. The thought of seeing someone else on the team in the position she was currently in was enough to make her snort out a laugh of her own. "I'm a fucking idiot, huh?"

The words made Spencer wave her off. "Definitely not a genius but.. Maybe a little smarter than Morgan." His tone was teasing as he was grabbing the small box she showed him that contained the key to the cuffs suspending her.

His first mistake was freeing her, mainly because there was a form of blind trust after being the one to free him.

The minute that Spencer had those cuffs off and was handing her the metallic restraints and turned his back to her, she as using the opportunity to catch him off guard, the male's eyes widening the moment he felt the cold metal against his skin.

"Y/N! What the hell??"

Now it was her turn to laugh, her hands coming up to rest against her mouth. "Now who's the genius, Reid?" She taunted, all in good fun.

Spencer's face was red, eyes on the ground while he had to take in a breath. His body was tense, feeling powerless in the time being.

He was also incredibly turned on by the idea of doing whatever he needed to in order to get out of the cuffs.

The silence grew heavy, tension filling the air. "Oh, come on. Don't be mad at me, Spence. It's all in good fun!" She said while heading over to grab his upper arms. "You are so red," She pouted, her hands cupping the hot skin of his face as he was staring down at the woman, looking as submissive as ever.

That did something to her, a blush creeping up on her face as sinful thoughts began to plague her mind. The thought of leaving a whimpering, sticky mess. The way he'd definitely be the type to beg her for more while she was seated pretty on his lap, doing something like read a book while just being full.

The thoughts had her thighs tightly clenching, arousal surely coating her panties enough to make a wet spot.

Unable to help herself, it wasn't long until the tie around his neck was in her hand, pulling the man down to clash their lips together. The action had Spencer squeaking, although his lips were desperately slotting with hers in a messy kiss. He needed it. He needed her.

It wasn't abnormal for Spencer to have such thoughts, his coworker being on his mind since the moment she joined the team. How could he not be fond of her? She was beautiful, intelligent, plus she was probably the only person who would actually sit and listen to his ramblings whenever something came up.

She was perfect in every way really, however, he knew that there was a long list of things preventing a relationship within the team. Last thing he wanted was for himself or Y/N to be transferred to a different branch.

However his thoughts weren’t particularly on that right now, his body falling back against the plush mattress from a push, not even having time to register what was happening before the woman was straddling his waist. Her hands were on either side of his face, her lips pressing back against his in a more rough, needy kiss.

Spencer's wrists were fighting the cuffs, a huff being muffled against Y/N's lips as he realized that he was being denied the right to touch her, to let his hands caress her smooth skin. His heart was beating against his chest, almost as if it were dying to be released.

All of his thoughts were eventually going out the door the minute he felt the feeling of delicate fingers in his hair. However instead of savoring the feeling of her fingers threading through the messy head of curls, his mouth was agape as soon as her hand was roughly pulling Spencer's hair back.

"I'm gonna fuck you stupid, Dr. Reid."

Oh.

The words were enough to make a moan rip from Spencer’s throat, eyes trained up on the woman who was propping herself up on her knees in order to look down at the man. 

“Cat got your tongue, doctor?” Y/N taunted while she was looking down at the man with a soft smirk. She didn’t even have to touch him and he was already putty in her hands. The way his eyes were trained on her, looking like a puppy begging for more. “‘Cause you were very vocal earlier when you had so much to say.” She mused.

“I-I” The woman was bringing her hands to Spencer’s shoulders, her hips rocking against his while awaiting an answer.

“I’m waiting.” 

“I-I.. Fuck. I don’t have anything to s-say.” He stuttered, bucking his hips to try and relieve the pressure from his cock that was already standing at attention. “Who would’ve thought Spencer Reid would be quiet when someone is trying to talk to him? You don’t have any facts? Statistics?” She continued dragging on, nudging Spencer’s body back in order to have him lay down in the middle of the queen sized bed. 

“Give me a statistic about..” She was looking around her bedroom while sliding down Spencer’s legs. “Ooh! A statistic about dominant and submissive dynamics..” She dragged out the word ‘submissive’ as her hands were slowly moving to unbutton his pants. His head was spinning, brain mush.

“A study showed that,” He paused as her fingers were quickly tugging down the zipper before her hands were pulling the slacks down his legs. “I didn’t tell you to stop.” She commented, her eyebrow raising as her movements came to a halt. “T-that 51% of men and 39-” His eyes were fluttering shut the minute he felt her mouth now ghosting over his hard cock in his underwear, her tongue licking over the wet spot of his boxers.

“39% of women are attracted to the idea of having a d-dominant or submissive partner..” He stuttered out, now lifting his hips in hopes of feeling those delicate fingers in the waistband of his boxers. Which, his wish was granted. “That’s really interesting, isn’t it? Good job, baby.” She hummed.

As his cock was revealed to her, she was grinning. His tip was red, beads of pre-cum rolling down his angry, desperate cock. “So pretty!” She praised, laying on her stomach between his legs as her hand was wrapping around the thick base of his cock, thumb swiping over the sensitive tip to smear the mess around.”Who knew Dr. Reid was hiding this? Always the shy and smart ones, huh?” She commented, pressing a kiss to the tip of his cock.

Spencer could hear her talking, however he wasn’t responding. His brain was clouded, head falling back against the pillow that rested behind his head. “F-fuck.” He hissed, her tongue now running over the underside of the genius’ cock, cleaning up the mess that she’d already caused. 

Her hands came out to rest firmly against his hips, holding him down from bucking like he so desperately tried to do. “P-please..” He let out a slow breath as his eyes were fluttering shut. His voice was shaking, tone laced with need and more desperation than she could’ve expected.

She smiled while licking over his cock one more time before granting him yet another desperate plea that fell from his lips in the form of a whimper. As her lips closed around his cock, she let her eyes flutter shut. Her tongue was flat, her head beginning to move in a slow motion. She was hollowing her cheeks while bobbing her head, her own moans vibrating around his already desperate cock. As she let her grip tighten on his hips, her eyes were opening to peak up at him through her eyelashes.

His curls were disheveled, his head thrown back as his chest was rapidly rising and falling. The strangled sounds of whimpers and pleads for more falling from his lips. It was a beautiful sight, she knew that much. 

Spencer wasn’t the only one wildly turned on, Y/N’s panties being absolutely drenched at this point. From her position, she could rock her hips against the mattress, just wanting to relieve the pressure in her clit as she could practically feel her heartbeat in the bundle of nerves. She was growing desperate herself, needing to feel his cock inside her, stretching her out with the delicious burn that came with it.

She was pulled from her thoughts when she could feel the twitch of his cock, indicating he was close. That was her cue to pull off with a loud ‘pop’ echoing through the room along with a small whine falling from Spencer's lips. That whine was enough to make her clench around nothing.

“Shush.” She breathed while wiping the spit from her jaw with her thumb, a breathless laugh leaving her lips as she was eventually standing, enough to shimmy her pants and panties down her legs to reveal her glistening cunt. Spencer’s eyes were trailing slowly up her now bare legs, eyes coming to her pussy while his mouth was open, pupils blown out from lust. “Please let me touch you. Wanna- Fuck- Wanna be able to-” He was cut off by her lips, the two sharing a chaste kiss before her teeth were sinking into his lower lip, giving it a playful tug before letting it go. 

“Not this time.” She spoke softly, her lips kissing him once more before she was crawling over him again, her hands running over his clothed chest while moving between them.

As soon as she had his cock in her hands, all sense of reason went out the window. To be fair, neither of them were really thinking of a condom right now. 

After teasing herself by tapping his tip against her clit, she sucked in a breath. “Fuck, Spencer.” She whispered, eventually sinking down his base. Her head was lolling forward, her mouth agape as she was sinking fully, their pelvises now flush against one another’s. “Holy fuck.”

Spencer on the other hand had to think of anything other than cumming inside of her before she even got a chance to even ride him. However, he felt like she’d ultimately end up overstimulating him in that scenario. He didn’t want that now though. No, he’d rather wait until he didn’t have fucking metal preventing him from gripping onto her hips, letting him fuck up into her rather than be forced to watch her have every ounce of control and power. Even though he had to admit, he could get used to this. 

As her velvety walls were clenching around his cock, she was leaning forward slightly as her hips were rolling against his, her head falling forward as she cried out softly. With the length that Spencer had, the right angle would have his tip pushing perfectly against the spongy spot deep inside her that was making her see stars already. 

“F-fuck. You f-feel amazing.” It was Spencer's turn to talk, watching the way her tits were bouncing with every movement, even with a clothed torso, she had the man below salivating at the thought of what lay below that blue cardigan. “You take m-my cock so well.” Even through the grunts and groans, there was still a hint of him being unsure. This wasn’t really something he did often, so here we was, doing something he’d seen once or twice in the few pornos he’d consumed at some point. “Ah! Fuck, Reid. I’m gonna cum. Fuck, you- ugh.” Y/N breathed, continued her motions  while doing her best to quicken her pace, even though her bounces were growing a bit sloppy, her legs getting tired. 

With the grip of his tie and a loud cry of his name, it wasn’t long until she was creaming on his cock, a thin veil of sweat on her face as she was continuing her movements. “Fuck. You gonna cum, Reid? Wanna fill me up? She spoke, the words sending electricity through the man’s body as his cock was twitching once more.

He’d done his best to thrust his hips upward, a low groan leaving his lips as he only needed a few more movements before his vision went white.

Y/N was a whimpering mess, feeling the warm gush of cum that Spencer was coating her inner walls with, the woman’s upper body gently falling forward as her eyes flutter shut. 

They laid there for a while, the woman clutching tightly onto her close friend while trying to catch her breath. “Remind me to carry around those handcuffs more often.” She spoke, a light laugh leaving her lips as she was lifting her hips and moving off of him soon after.

“Maybe don’t get yourself trapped next time..” Spencer chuckled, now looking over at the woman as she was sitting him up, finally using the key to free his wrists from their restraints. “Feel like you owe me now..” He began, the woman laughing as she placed the cuffs on her bedside table. 

“Spencer Reid, are you really asking me for round two right now?” She asked, making the man give a cheeky smile.

“Maybe if you’re the one in the handcuffs this time.”

[ixiot-ghostrebel]

Read that one with Creator!Reader, who favors Nahida. To be honest! I love her. She is the only one who has tried to help Aether find his sister. And I love Aether, and whoever is kind to him automatically gains my favor.

I haven't finished Fontaine story, so I'm not sure about them.

Nahida Lovers Are gonna be having the Party of a lifetime here 👍 I am going to shove a little bit of Aether into this, but it can also be read as Lumine if other ppl want to :)

Nahida's ALWAYS Off the Hook :D

(Warning: Might be OOC!)

You liked Nahida (platonically, don't get other ideas). She was the only archon that was able to find any information on Aether's sister, and was the only one who made many efforts to find any information regarding Lumine.

It was nice and refreshing for once, to see the Famed Traveler finally getting some help in return of their deeds for the nation. You were so stoked, you started cheering and screaming like this was the best victory you've ever witnessed (it might've actually been).

Nahida, after hearing this, felt even more happy than before. I mean, you were kinda just praising her on the spot for something she thought was just...right to do.

Yet you're making a huge deal out of it. Were the other nations...not that helpful? I mean, the way the Traveler just turned down help and all that was proof, but you praising her for something as simple as this for a "thank you"...Nahida is kinda glad she'll be the first to do it.

It also seems you're starting to favor Nahida alongside the Traveler, which she isn't sure how she feels entirely, but she is for sure happy!

The moment you leave, Nahida's smile is a whole lot bigger, and she's basically grinning from ear to ear. It feels like she truly has spread her wings once the cage was opened. She can only hope her flight can make the Almighty Creator continue to smile and cheer.

Ghost Rebel Side Notes: I really have no clue if this is meeting expectations or not, but I do hope y'all like it! Usually these one characters aren't really something I usually come around in my mailbox, so this was definitely practice for the future lol!

I might open up my mailbox again, but only for a day or two (maybe, no promises for the re-open). I still have a lot of other requests lying in my mailbox, but it's good to have experience out here :D

Anyways, I hope this helps with the Nahida Lovers :) Remember, Nahida is platonic when your reading my blog!

Also, if you're the people waiting for The Lost Divine God of Celestia, I might have to disappoint you in saying that I think I might discontinue the series all together. I have been trying to write the fourth part of the series, but I just come out with nothing in the end. It's kinda depressing seeing the draft in my draft box sobbing. I'm so sorry, but I'll see how I feel about it before I make an official announcement on the matter.

✦ Check out The Ghost Rebel’s Blog Description & Info Page to See if Their Mailbox is Open! ✦

[dilfdemolisher]

Hey,

Heard you are in a Hannibal mood right now, so could you please write a needy Hannibal one-shot? They have been busy with their respective jobs and Hannibal comes home after a long, at first just wants to kiss and cuddle, but soon discovers how desperate his body is?😏(nsfw?)

Sorry, if I made you uncomfortable

an: I wrote this while listening to Honeymoon and I feel that its evident; so i insist y'all listen to Salvatore while reading...

YEARNING

Summary: A moment to lounge and enjoy peace becomes much more eventful when Hannibal arrives homes from work—hungry;)

Content Warning: Smut, Hannibal Lector is SIMP!!! Spread the word, oral and fingering (f!receiving), male masturbation (he jacks off during snack-time)

Word Count: 2k

It’s nice to finally have the opportunity to lounge—nothing to write—no one to speak to—no where to go—just you, your book, and the sun accompanying you while you sit comfortably in the lounge chair that has recently been brought outside.  

You always believe you’re not one who’s affected by the seasons; that cold, dreary weather doesn't get the best of you. And you believe that until the weather starts to warm your body up and you feel like you just crawled out of a cave and haven't seen the sunlight in years. 

Your whole body feels hot, and your internal temperature rising from the hot sun on your barely covered skin. You didn’t want the sun to have to penetrate through anything—you wanted it direct. 

You can’t help but let out a sigh. You allow your head to roll back and take your eyes off the pages you are reading, savouring the way the heat permeates through your hair and warms your scalp. So caught up in your relaxation, you didn’t become aware of your partner's presence until you felt a hand on your shoulder that delicately squeezed you. 

You don’t feel the need to open your eyes; you just feel content. 

“You’re the most divine creature I’ve ever laid my eyes on.” He speaks. Oh, how you’ve missed his voice. You’ve both been so caught up in your respective careers that the simple attention he’s giving you right now makes the world seem like it’s stopped spinning and that it’s just you and him, no one else. 

He leans down and peppers kisses onto your shoulder; you can’t help but smile as his mouth trails upwords along the side of your neck. 

Your sure he can hear the grin that's carved onto your face as you speak, “I’m savouring the weather. Who knows how long it will be until we get another day like this.”

He only responds with a hum in agreement, or maybe just in enjoyment of his activities; your not quite sure. “Care to join me?’ You ask in hopes this isn’t just a fleeting moment; you miss him—you want him. 

He stays mute until he brings his lips to your carotid artery and lightly nibbles on the skin that serves to protect it. “I’ve missed you more than you know. I’m tempted to eat you up so I can have a piece of you forever.” He says before hashly nips you. 

It’s a frighting statement indeed, but he said it to you. If it were for someone else, it would be a threat, but for you, its a declaration of love. 

You can’t help but blush at his statement, “What's gotten into you?” 

He doesn't answer; instead, he continues to manifest his care with kisses instead of verbalizing it. His hand makes its way up your back as he pulls his head away. Before you can complain, he places his hands on your shoulders and rubs. You can’t help the small moan that makes its way out of your mouth due to the pressure on your muscles. 

You hear him quietly chuckle above you. You tilt your head back and open your eyes to look at him. 

He’s staring right back at you with a satisfied grin.

It’s ridiculous, and you know it. But sometimes you remember how beautiful he is and it takes you off guard, turning you into a blushing, love-sick fool. 

“Hi.” is all you can say. He says it back; you can see how humorous he finds this and how his simple touches seem to melt your brain away. 

You bring your hand up to his, where he working on your shoulder. “You just got home from work; I should be loving on you.” You say while bringing his hand to your mouth for a sweet kiss. 

He pulls his hand away, “Nonsense.” He says as he returns it back to your shoulder to continue your massage. “I live to love you.”

You love Hannibal, and you have no doubt your feelings are reciprocated, but its unusual for him to be this touchy. 

“I feel like you have bad news and you’re buttering me up.” You joke. You can't help but swoon as you hear his chuckle from above. 

“No bad news.” He says, “We’ve both been suffocated by our work lately and for the moment we aren't, and I feel it would be pitiful to waste it.” He explains. 

Your smile grows larger at his words, “Take off your blazer.” You tell him. You hear him laugh once more as he shrugs it off. 

You immediately understand how words come off. “No, not like that; I’m sure you’re baking in that. I’m just enjoying being here with you. I don’t need anything more.” Your a tad embarrassed by how forward you accidentally sounded, though he didn’t seem to mind. 

He places his blazer down somewhere out of sight. When he returns, his hand lands on your scalp where he gently drags his nails along it. “Just because you don’t need something more doesn’t mean you don’t want it.” 

You rotate your head back once more to look at him. You remember a few moments ago how soft his gaze was. Now it’s much more hungry. 

“I didn’t want to be greedy.” You whisper. There's no need for your quiet tone; Hannibal is the only other soul near you. Yet, just in case you stay hush. The words are meant for him. Yourself—your being—is all for him. 

“You’re too sweet.” His hand falls down farther. He’s slow with his movement, teasing you. His hand lies on your chest, above your heart; you know he’s revelling in the past pace of it—physical proof of your need for him. 

“Be greedy; you deserve it. Your always so good.” His hand  shifts to encompass your breast. He has a firm grip, but nothing to ensue pleasure; he’s waiting for your response. 

His simple words make your mind turn to putty. His face is next to yours—you can sense it. You feel his lips on your cheek—a gentle, kind kiss.  

“That's what I want. I want to be good for you.” It was the correct answer to assume as his hand slides beneath your swim top. 

You utter his name as he kneads your chest. You feel him exhale on your shoulder before biting into while pinching your nipple. His other hand, that’s not busy, starts to remove your top. 

Hannibal's fingers work deftly, sliding your swim top completely off and casting it aside. You feel the warmth of his body leave as he comes to kneel in front of you. Being able to fully see him for the first time since he’s come home, you drink in the sight of him. His own eyes are dark with desire as he takes in the sight of you. 

He kneels in front of you and leans his head against your knee. Its not that you don’t appreciate it, but it’s rare that he’s so indiscreet about his wants. He’s the most cryptic man you’ve ever met—dangerous too. And yet, he’s kneeling before you, looking at you like you’re what makes the world spin. 

He kisses your knee before sliding his hands up your outer thighs and pulling your bottoms down. Once removed and places aside, Hannibal grabs your hand thats laying lip beside you and takes it into your own, clasping your fingers in between yours to hold hand. 

His gaze stays on you, his eyes looking at you with desire and devotion as he gently prys his legs apart with his hand. 

“Hannibal.” You breath, your voice a mix of need and plea. 

He smiles, a sensual curve of his lips that sends a shiver through you, "I want to make you feel everything," he says softly, his breath warm against your skin. "Every touch, every kiss. Let me worship you."

With that, he lowers his head and leans in, his mouth immediately on your most intimate spot which he handles with such precision. His tongue is skilled, flicking and swirling around your clit in a manner that hitches your breath. 

“Fuck.” You swear while he uses his lips and teeth on you, alternating between gentle suction and soft nips.

You feel like he’s eating you alive. 

Your hands grip the soild arms of the chair, head thrown back as he continues his ministrations. You can feel the internal pressure build, the delicious tension coiling tighter and tighter inside you. His one hand presses down on your lower stomach to keep you still, holding you steady as he works you with his mouth. 

“So good.” He lowly hums into you, the vibration from his voice adding to your pleasure. He quickens his pace, moving to a faster rhythm as he removes his hand from yours and probes it around your leaking hole. 

“Please.” You gasp, and that’s all it takes for him to insert his digit inside you. He slowly drags it along your walls, only harshly hitting your sweet spot when you’ve been quiet for a moment. 

You feel yourself getting closer and closer as he sucks and licks; your words become unintelligible and are just as loud as your moans until suddenly, Hannibal pulls away. 

You watch him breathless as he removes both of his hands from you and brings them towards his belt to remove it. You both stare at each other as he unbuttons his trousers and lowers them slightly, just enough to remove himself.

His cock springs free, hard and dripping. He doesn't say a word as he lowers himself down and halts your legs over his shoulders while he dives into your core again. One hand he brings up to your pussy where he pushes two fingers in, moving them fast as his other hand wraps around his shaft. 

His movements are synchronized, moving both his hands at the same time, at the same speed, matching the rhythm. His gaze never leaves yours; the intensity of his glazed over eyes boring into your soul only nears you to your orgasm. 

The sight of him pleasuring himself while his tongue acts on your sensitive core is almost to much to bear. Every flick of his tongue, every movement of his hand causes your eyes to roll back into your skull. 

Hannibals moans reverberate against you, only making you melt more and more. His pace quickens, both on you and himself. As you look at him once again, you can see the strain in his muscles as he gets closer to his own relief. 

You reach down, threading your fingers between his hair and tug, urging him on. “Please Hannibal.” You whine, “Want you to cum.”

He groans at that. “So sweet, always so good for me.” 

His strokes become more frantic, his tongue more insistent. The sight of him on the edge, the feel of his relentless movements on your sensitive clit pushes you towards your climax. 

You feel your body arch towards him as your mind falls blank. The only thing in the world being Hannibal’s continued movements, his tongue on you and his fingers abusing your insides, drawing out your pleasure. 

With a gutteral groan, Hannibal finds his release. His warm cum spilling over his hand, making a mess on the ground below him. 

He collapses onto you, his head leaning against your thigh for a moment before he tucks himself back into his pants and rises. He presses soft kisses on your forehead, your cheeks, your lips, murmuring words of love and praise.

“You’re perfect.” You say quietly against his lips. 

He grins, his canines poking out and revealing themselves. “I could devour you forever.”

[not-magdi]

-ucl nights / lamine yamal

Warnings: None, well the loss yesterday (I think that should be a warning to)

Words: 756

Reading Time: 5min 53sec

A/n

This story was inspired by yesterday, I kind of tried to comfort myself with it so yeah I hope you'll like it.

Love y'all Magdi

1:4, that was the end. Barcelona was out of the Champions League. They fought so hard, especially Lamine. That boy gives his heart and soul every time he plays, so a loss hits him extremely hard. But this one was different. After a period of losses, the last few wins made hope spark in everyone's chest.

It was also painful for you to watch. Being a barça fan since you were a little kid. But nothing prepared you for the emotions you would feel as you saw the player's faces when they walked past you in the tunnel.

As soon as the game ended, you rushed down the tunnel, wanting to see Lamine as fast as possible. Lamine and you haven't been together for such a long time, only 2 months. But over these months, you have become each other's safe place, with only being 16 years old in this crazy world.

You have been waiting for about 10 minutes now, greeting and comforting a few players you know as they passed you. Then, Lamine finally came into your view. His shoulders slumped, and his eyes brimmed with tears.

Your heart broke at this sight. Lamine tried to stay strong in front of you, but as soon as you opened your arms, he fell into them, holding you tight.

One of your hands went from his back to his head, stroking his hair. He buried his head deeper into your neck, letting out little sobs as you continued to hold him.

"Hey, it's ok. I'm here baby, I'm here."

The two of you continue standing there for a few minutes until you feel Lamine pull away. Opening your arms, you look up at him, kissing away a few tears that rolled down his cheeks.

"How about you get changed, then I'll drive you home, and we cuddle a bit on the couch." You whisper into his ear, kissing the side of his head.

"Y-yeah, I like that plan." His voice is still a bit croaky, but there's a slight smile on his face again, which was everything you wanted.

It was now 30 minutes later, and you were sitting in your car. You let Lamine take his time, knowing the time with his teammates is really important now.

To pass some time, you decided to open up Instagram, where you are instantly flooded with thousands of new videos of the game. One particular video caught your eye, though it was a video of Lamine sitting in a chair, his jacket completely covering his face to not see him cry. It broke your heart to see him like that.

You were lost in your own world when you heard the door opening. You looked at who it was only to see the familiar face of your boyfriend. He was wearing one of your favourite hoodies and a pair of comfy jeans.

"Hey, did I scare you?" Lamine asked you with a teasing tone in his voice.

"You could never." You answer.

Laughing, he gets into the car, holding his hand out for you to take.

With one hand on the steering wheel and the other holding Lamine's, you drive to Lamine's apartment. The drive was silent, which was unusual as you usually talked the whole trip. But you don't wanna pressure him into talking, knowing he needs some time to open up.

Arriving at his apartment, Lamine immediately flops down onto the couch facefirst. Giggling, you lay yourself on top of him, burying his head in the crook of his neck.

"You wanna talk about tonight?"

Turning his head to face you, he shakes his head, "Not at the moment, I just wanna apologize for disappointing you tonight."

Frowning, you sit up, "Disappointing me? Why would you ever disappoint me?"

Lamine now sits up, too. "You were so excited about the game tonight and I wanted to play good for you tonight so you would be proud."

Gasping, you grab Lamine's face to make him look at you. "You, my love are going to listen closely to me now, understand me? There will be not a single moment in my life where I will not be proud of you. You are one of the most passionate and hard-working players I know. You have come so far in your career already while only being 16! Every time I look at you I feel so lucky to call you mine."

You ended your speech with a deep kiss on his lips, laying your forehead against his afterwards.

"Thank you, Amor, I love you"

"I love you too Lamine"

---------

Don't forget to leave a note if you enjoyed it, feedback is always welcome!! ❤️

[isawritesshit]

Someone - Chapter 2

image taken from @ patlmao on pinterest

Synopsis: Satoru became something to you during your school years together at Jujutsu Tech, which were ended abruptly when you were casted out from your clan and left the jujutsu world. When Satoru finds you again after years apart, you find out that you were something to him too. Maybe you still are.

Warnings/Content: fem!reader, season 2 spoilers, violence, brief depictions of blood and nudity, language, death/murder, conspiracy, allusions to toxic households/anxiety/physical abuse, some arranging marriage things, toji giving more teenagers trauma

Author's Note: This has been sitting in my drafts for a while, and I'm glad it could get it to y'all! This chapter focuses much more on the reader than anything, and it's overall more angsty, but I promise the good stuff is coming soon! The Kamo family and any of its mentioned characters/members in this story are made up and dramatized for the point of this series, and are not canon. Make sure to read the prologue and chapter one before this one, if you haven't. Also, I wanted to thank all of those who have supported my Color Blue series, and that the next chapter is in my drafts! <33

Word Count: ~5.4k

___________________________________________________________

Walking up the steps to Jujutsu Tech had to be one of your least favorite activities, but the five of you pushed forward. You were almost home free. Once you reached the inside of the jujutsu barrier, the mission would be complete.

Memories from that morning flooded your mind. Satoru had still been awake when you got up from the couch after a somewhat peaceful rest. How did you sleep? His voice had been gravely and quiet, completely exhausted.

Good, you had yawned as you stretched, making your first task to go and find him some caffeine. What you didn't say was that you actually had been awake for an hour before you decided to move. You had felt him caressing the ends of your hair, running his knuckle along your cheek while he assumed you were still unconscious.

You can't get any more obvious than that, (y/n). Riko's words rang through your head.

"Satoru." You stopped and turned to where he was walking up the steps behind you. Upon hearing his name, Satoru grinned and trotted up until he was on the same steps as you so you both could continue together. He didn't seem to care that he left his conversation with Suguru.

"Something up?" he chirped.

"No it's... I needed to ask you about something, actually." Your focus was on the steps below you as you ascended them, hands behind your back as you took up a leisurely pace. A few seconds passed as you considered your next words.

"Well? I'm waitiiiiing," Satoru sang. That caffeine had definitely helped.

Are you sureeee...?

"You know what, I think I'll tell you when once we finish the mission," you stated haughtily, shrugging as a way to playfully brush off the issue. Now probably wasn't the time anyway. It might be better to ask once the stress of this mission was past all of you. Satoru turned back to chat with Suguru.

Finally, you reached the top of the steps. "Good job everyone. We're inside Jujutsu High's barrier now," Suguru commended with a smile. You patted Riko's back as she hunched over from the exertion of the trek. "Satoru, (y/n), you both really worked hard this time."

You returned a small, awkward smile.

Satoru just scowled. "I never wanna get stuck babysitting a brat again."

When you turned to Satoru with a remark on the end of your tongue, there was a blade protruding from his chest.

You hesitated, eyes wide. Impossible. You're inside the barrier! Geto sent a curse careening for Satoru's attacker, causing him to remove the blade and jump back. The curse gobbled the mercenary in one bite, but you knew that would only prolong his attacks. You ran to Satoru's side, pressing a hand to his chest and back where the blade had entered to heal him.

However, Satoru pushed you away gently, explaining how he used his technique to keep the blow from being fatal. "Don't waste your energy. I'll take this guy, you three get her to Tengen-sama."

You almost protested, but you knew your role in this mission was to keep Riko alive, which meant you had to stay with her the whole time. With Suguru protecting the three of you, you would be safe. "Be careful, Satoru. Let's go!" Suguru shouted. Riko and Kuroi ran to his side as they started to sprint.

"Satoru..." There was something seriously wrong. Why was Satoru attacked instead of Riko? Hadn't her bounty been lifted also? This man must have some kind of technique to allow Satoru to not be able to sense him, or, even worse, he might not have cursed energy at all. But if that were true, how had he been able to see past the barrier?

"Seriously, (y/n), I'll be alright. Protect Riko," he said with surprising calmness. His assurance gave you confidence. He's the strongest. He would be fine. You turned to catch up with Suguru and the girls, and hoped you weren't making a mistake.

___________________________________________________________

The shrieking of the old elevator filled your ears as the four of you descended deep into the earth. Suguru made sure that no cursed energy residuals were left, especially once you reached a chosen entrance of the Tombs of the Star Corridor. That bastard would be lucky if he even found one of the entrances.

Once your group reached the bottom, the four of you stepped out and peered into the darkness of the corridor beyond. Riko seemed to look forward towards what she believed to be her final steps as herself. "This is as far as I go, Riko-sama," Kuroi stated with a bow. Riko ran to her and hugged her tightly, tears filling their eyes.

"I'll stay with Kuroi," you declared. Riko whipped her head to you. "Suguru will keep you safe," you assured her, taking a few steps in their direction, "we'll remain to guard this entrance." You pulled Riko into a deep embrace, her tears soaking the sleeve of your uniform. "Thank you, Riko..." you whispered, not specifying what for. You held her head as tears threatened to fall from your own eyes. In the span of three days, this girl managed to become a dear friend to you, like Shoko.

You glanced over Riko's shoulder and made eye contact with Suguru. You hoped he could see past the despondency in your eyes to know you were pleading with him. You, Satoru, and Suguru had discussed the terms of Riko's assimilation in private. She didn't have to assimilate if she didn't wish to. You trusted Suguru to convey that to Riko before it was too late.

You and Riko broke apart, sniffling and wiping tears. "Tell Gojo I said thank you, (y/n)," she whispered. You could see the hidden message behind her words, the happiness she wished for you to pursue. You would. For her, you would.

You watched as the two started a leisurely pace ahead. It was more a speed that someone might take on an evening stroll instead of to the end of their existence with a ruthless murderer on the hunt nearby, yet you stared from behind in awe at Riko's silent bravery. Soon enough, her and Suguru were out of sight as their footsteps faded within the passing minutes. You and Kuroi stood there in silence.

"You raised Riko well, Kuroi," you whispered, pausing for a moment. "I know you said her parents passed in an accident, but, if you don't mind me asking, how did her parents die?" Accident was a vague term.

"A car wreck," Kuroi responded. "A head on collision. They were crushed in the front seat while she was sitting in the back."

"Ah... and how old was she?"

"Six."

You went silent. What was special about six years old anyway? Was that the age that all gifted girls lost their parents?

"(y/n), do you think that... if I always knew that Riko would one day depart from me, from the world... was I wrong to teach her... to allow her to become attached to the world?" Kuroi's words left the silence as slowly as they had entered.

"Do you mean because Riko would one day assimilate that she should have never learned to love the people around her?"

"Yes well, I mean, she could still appreciate things but... this world was never meant to be hers, yet I treated it like it was. Was I wrong to do that?"

"No. Absolutely not," you challenged. "The world was hers. The world is still hers because you raised her to believe it. Now, we just need to see what she'll do with it." You paused before explaining. "Riko doesn't have to assimilate if she doesn't want to. She can live a life. If you had not raised her the way you did, she would never consider that option available to her. Satoru and Suguru are prepared to protect her, if necessary. We can make the world hers again."

Kuroi's head snapped in your direction. "So you mean... she can come back?"

"Yes, thanks to you, I have no doubt she will come back. All we have to do is wait." You smiled softly.

Kuroi gasped and beamed. "Thank you, (y-"

Blood protruded from Kuroi's stomach where three bullets had entered from behind. You screamed, rushing to where she fell, before two bullets lodged themselves into each of your calves. The pain spiraled throughout your body as you fell forward.

You gritted your teeth as you tried to raise yourself, but a foot cracked down on both of your shoulders, the bones crunching. "Ah, sorry, can't make it too easy for you to heal yourself." The man who had attacked Satoru stepped off your shoulder to kneel in front of you. "You should heal from it naturally though if you put your technique to work. I would finish you myself, but I don't need the Kamos coming after me for killing their pet dog." He stood and began to walk away.

How was he here? Where was...

Where was Satoru?

"I am not... a dog!" you gritted out between your teeth. This man... you had heard of him before. Sorcerer killer, your adoptive father had called him. The bastard of the Zen'in. The man turned, intrigued, and stalked back towards where you lay, your blood pooling and mixing with Kuroi's, who was slowly losing life by the second. Heal her. You needed to heal her, but with your significant injuries, you only had enough energy to heal yourself before you could even think of getting to Kuroi.

The man grabbed you by your hair and lifted your body up with one hand, bringing you eye level to him. You cried out at the blinding pain, unable to even try and fight him with your broken shoulders. He scrutinized your expression like he was looking at mold on food. The man scoffed, spitting at your face as he said "You look like one. You look like your father."

Your father?

How did he-

Your tormentor only let out a strained laugh. "Seriously? You never figured it out? I can tell by the stupid fucking look on your face." You squinted, confused. "Your parents were the easiest job I had ever got. One of them wasn't even a sorcerer and the other couldn't even use proper cursed energy. It was almost stupid, how pathetically they went down for the amount they were worth. And for what? Just so the Kamos could get their hands on you?" A smirk before he added, "Come to think of it, your dad was making that face right before I slit his fucking throat." You saw red, and tried to kick him in his abdomen despite the pain in your legs. Before you could, you were discarded to the floor, next to Kuroi's now dead body. The man continued on towards where Suguru and Riko were now.

Your screams echoed out towards the hall, pleading and calling out for your friends to run, to warn them of the oncoming slaughter, but to no avail. The tunnel stretched on for miles. Your voice would become nothing with the immense distance, and it would take too long for you to heal yourself.

How did he sneak up on you two so quickly? Would Suguru be able to stop him? You hoped he would. You prayed he would. Suguru was second only to Satoru.

But where was Satoru now?

Your vision faded to black.

___________________________________________________________

Your fingers danced across the piano keys, playing a melody that you forced yourself to become familiar with over the past few weeks. Chopin's Fantasy in F Minor. You had just started to move into more of Chopin's works during your daily practices after your adoptive father asked if you could prepare one of them for him when you returned home after graduation. Something to look forward to, he had said.

You moved through the piece with grace, keeping your posture, arms raised at the perfect angle as you played. You remembered how your mother had instilled playing posture in you when she gave you your first piano lesson at four years old. You had sat on her lap before her keyboard, giggling as she adjusted your hands and put them over her own as she played. Your father, your real father, had sat on the couch and laughed, adding snarky comments here and there.

You look like your father.

Your thoughts faltered only for a moment, but your hands remained active. You just needed to finish the piece perfectly before calling your practice for the day. The grand piano echoed down one of the hallways of Jujustu Tech. The Kamos had made a request to move a piano into an unused classroom to act as your practice room during your time as a student, to which the school agreed.

I don't need the Kamos coming after me for killing their pet dog.

Your parents were the easiest job I ever got.

It was almost stupid, how pathetically they went down for the amount they were worth.

Toji Zen'in had killed your parents. You knew that now. But if the Kamos had ordered your parents death, what did they have to gain?

Your dreams ran rampant with images of your parents, nightmares, watching as Toji Zen'in slit your father's throat. Sometimes it wasn't his throat he was slitting, but your own.

Sometimes it wasn't Zen'in holding the knife, but your adoptive father.

No. The Kamos would never. Never.

One of your fingers slipped and ruined the cord you were playing. You huffed and forced yourself to start from that cord again.

You never figured it out?

Just so the Kamos could get their hands on you?

Dog. Dog. Dog.

The piece finished before you realized you were done. You sat there, fingers resting on the keys. Your eyes just stared at the notes in front of you, no more than dark blots and symbols on a white canvas.

This world was never meant to be hers.

The world is still hers because you raised her to believe it.

What was your world anymore? Riko and Kuroi were dead now, killed by Toji a little over a year ago. Suguru was beaten within an inch of his life. And Satoru-

The sliding door opened with a smack, revealing Satoru's peeved face. "You finished ten minutes ago. Why are you still sitting here?"

He was waiting outside? "Sorry, just writing down some notes to myself," you lied as you closed your music and left it to rest on its stand. He never questioned the fact that you didn't even have a pencil. "Is something wrong?" This was the first time that he had ever come near your practice room. You're surprised he even remembered where it was.

"No? Just grabbing you for dinner. Suguru and Shoko are waiting," Satoru stated as he began to walk away from the room with you not far behind. "We're going to that one place I recommended. I came to get you cause I knew you wouldn't answer your phone while you were practicing... didn't want to cut too close to when we planned on leaving."

You sighed. Of course he would "ask" if you wanted to tag along without giving you much of a choice. Your eyes glued themselves onto the back of his neck up to his temple as he walked. The scar that used to peak out from under his shirt collar was long gone, but you pretended it was still there. You could still see it. The spot where Zen'in had stabbed him.

Miraculously, he had finally grasped his reversal technique within his dying moments, saving his own life before he killed Zen'in himself.

It should have been you. You should have been the one to kill him, not that you would have survived anyway. You supposed that if you died fighting the man that killed your parents, you would die with a smile on your face. Maybe if Satoru had known that you wanted it, if you hadn't been in hospice while Satoru had landed the killing blow, he would have let you.

Satoru still didn't know that Toji had killed your parents. No one did. You couldn't find it in yourself to reveal the truth that had changed everything for you to anyone.

You didn't even have a plan for when you graduate, what you would do once you moved back home...

When that scar used to linger on Satoru's skin, he would only smile and thank you whenever he caught you looking at it. Even if it was his outrageous amount of cursed energy that saved him, he gives you the credit for saving his life. Satoru reasoned that if you had not given him lessons in reversal energy, then he wouldn't be standing before you today. You never saw it that way. With his growth, he was bound to learn it at some point anyway.

And Satoru's abilities didn't stop there. He was close to mastering every Six Eyes and Limitless technique known to his clan. He had surpassed Suguru and the rest of the sorcery community months ago. Some were already calling him the strongest sorcerer of the modern age.

Sure. Only you had seen the scars that made you think otherwise. Satoru had asked you to heal them off his skin around 6 months ago. Your heart had panged with each inch of the scar he exposed to you, with the largest one having reached all the way from his neck down to his pelvic bone. There were more the had littered his legs, spots were his tendons had been ripped it two. The last one had been on the skin of his temple, hidden under soft white hair, where a blade had entered his head and straight into his brain.

It was after you had finished healing those scars that you told yourself to never pursue him. Not just because you thought of yourself beneath him, but because only a god could have survived those attacks. The world seemed to bow to him and him alone. It scared you. He was still the same boy you had fallen in love with but... ever since Riko's death, he had become something... else.

As you exited the building, you found Shoko and Suguru outside. You noticed Suguru's eyes watching you as you walked down the steps to meet them.

Satoru hadn't been the only one to change that day. While he seemed to move forward at break neck speed, Suguru, to you, seemed lost. Stuck in place, almost as if his consciousness and feelings were consistently stagnant. You couldn't tell what it was, and you hoped Satoru would notice soon. If anyone could tell what was wrong with Suguru, it was him.

"We ready?" Shoko spoke up, taking her cigarette out of her mouth and snuffing it under her boot. Suguru stood.

"Yeah, let's hurry so we can stop for dessert on the way back," Satoru encouraged. The four of you began to walk towards the school entrance.

Satoru leaned down briefly to whisper a "thank you" in your ear. You only shook your head and continued walking.

___________________________________________________________

You had envisioned graduation as something celebratory, as an event that would ring in your memory as your next step into jujutsu sorcery. Instead, it felt hollow, at least on the inside, like something was missing.

Something was missing, no matter how much the three of you tried to ignore it.

Three, not four.

Satoru tried to play it off the best, as if Suguru's betrayal of him and jujutsu society hadn't devastated him both emotionally and mentally. If anything, Suguru had come closer to killing Satoru that day than Toji had the year prior.

But for the three of you, that was normal now. Right after your graduation and small celebration in Shoko's new apartment, Satoru left on a mission that would keep him away for a week. Shoko went back to her job, one that she was now getting paid for as an employee working within the Tokyo headquarters as a jujutsu physican and mortician. However, you returned back home to your family estate.

You didn't want to go back, didn't want to stomach seeing their faces now that your eyes had been opened. You even considered begging Satoru to take you on the mission with him, even if you wouldn't get paid for it. However, you knew he needed the distraction, the space.

As your adoptive father embraced you, you felt like fainting. He could tell something was wrong, but said nothing.

Your only hope was to wait for a mission assignment. You hadn't been assigned missions for a while in the weeks leading up to graduation. It worried you a bit, but you thought that maybe you were going to be given a position similar to Shoko soon, either by her side or in Kyoto. Kyoto would be great. The further from here, the better. For now, all you could do was wait.

To anyone within the Kamo household, it seemed like you had never changed. Your demeanor returned to how it had been when you lived there: indifferent, graceful, and silent.

No, you had changed, and because of that, you could now see how far these walls pressed in on you where you failed to notice them before. You were no longer as obedient and pliant as you once been. Three years as Gojo Satoru's best friend had changed that, for sure. You had forgotten how much of your life you couldn't dictate, all the way from your finances to the kind of clothing you were allowed to wear. Now, these walls felt like confinement, like a hawk in a delicate white bird cage.

You took up a routine similar to the one you used to keep before living at Jujustu Tech. Training in the mornings, piano in the afternoon, entertaining family and guests in the evening. Some days you would meet up with Shoko, and some nights she would graciously offer for you to sleep at her place. She could see how the Kamo house was affecting you, but you both knew you could never stay.

In the days that followed, you would make occasional visits to Jujustu Tech with your adoptive father and other Kamo members. It was here that you would see Satoru in passing, talking with Shoko or Yaga. He somehow seemed to stand straighter, taller, You knew it was for show, but more show than usual. However, when Satoru looked at you... it was different, to say the least, almost like he felt sorry, but when you were able to catch him alone, it was like nothing had changed. It was relief.

"You ever think about moving out of that hell hole?" Satoru mused, chomping down on some frozen dessert he bought earlier. "I certainly would if it meant I didn't have to wear that shit all the time." He gestured to your traditional-Japanese wear.

"It's because this is considered a visit on business. As if I didn't live here for three years..." you groaned, adjusting your collar. "I just have to get used to it again, the routines and the clothes and whatnot."

Satoru hummed. "Y'know... you could always move in with me. My place has like, a gazillion open rooms, and it's quiet. Plus, we can continue our Mario Kart tournaments whenever we want."

You perked up at the offer, but shook your head. "I would, but, I don't think my father would approve of me living in the Gojo household with the unmarried sole Gojo member..."

"What do you mean?" he snickered. "Wait, don't tell me. Is your father trying to set you up for marriage?"

"It's been... discussed."

"Well, whoever he is, must suck to be him." You just hit the remainder of his food out of his hand. "Fuck, okay! Did you really have to do that?" No answer. "Okay, okay, I kinda deserved it. But... why would your dad marry you off? You're not Kamo by blood, so..."

"I dunno, I've been kinda asking myself the same thing. Maybe something to do with the last name and possible advantageous bullshit I don't understand. I've been... I haven't asked," you sighed, crossing you arms and looking out on the training grounds. The chill in the air breezed in through the open doorway, signaling winter's arrival. Only a few months ago, you had practiced your combat and sorcery skills on the very plot of land in front of you, hoping to raise your grade for higher missions or maybe become recognized to work with students here on the campus. You never thought that after graduating you would be so... stuck.

"Well, what if we got married?"

You paused. Did you really hear him correctly?

"It doesn't have to be weird or anything. Just to get you out there and have your dad stop nagging you on this stuff," Satoru shrugged, as if he were offering you a favor or giving you a suggestion. He was doing that, but... did he truly understand the magnitude of what he was saying?

"Are you out of your mind? Satoru, he would never agree to that!" you exclaimed.

"Yeesh, I didn't think you disliked me that much. Personally, I think I would make a wonderful husband," he nagged, a smug grin on his face.

You rolled your eyes and sighed. "My father sees you more as an enemy than a potential ally. He'd probably blow a fuse by just seeing us talking here." Your adoptive father wasn't really appreciative when he learned of the friendship between you and Satoru once you returned home. He even blamed some of your recent misdemeanors and slight attitude on Satoru as well.

"So what? Then would I just have to ask him myself?"

"Why are you so damn adamant on this," you muttered. "If anything, you'd just make the situation worse."

Satoru brushed that comment aside. "I'm adamant because you're my friend, a good friend and..."

You looked to him, quirking an eyebrow at his sudden tone change. "And what...?"

"I just... don't like being alone."

___________________________________________________________

I just don't like being alone.

You stared at your plate of food in front of you, fully untouched. Your appetite felt absent, almost on and off, as it had been since your conversation with Satoru over a week ago.

Ever since that conversation, the thoughts of what your adoptive father actually had planned for your future weighed heavily on you. You began to think about how much your father could dictate between mission and job assignments in the jujustu community and how they could let those trickle down to you. And the only reason for why he would stop you from getting any...

Marriage. Definitely marriage. What other reason could there be?

But to who? And when? And why? With all of these questions, you began to realize that you would probably take Satoru over almost anyone as your husband, just because you knew who he was to begin with and because you got along with him. Your less admitted attraction for him was of the least of your reasons, too.

But then you remembered what the duties of any arranged marriage entailed, not just an alliance, but heirs-

Yeah, you didn't want to think about marriage period. You wondered why the Kamo Clan even needed an advantageous marriage right now anyways. Not to mention, why it had to be you instead of any of the many eligible Kamos. You didn't know exactly what you wanted, but you knew you didn't want to stay here, or anywhere where you felt-

"(Y/N)," your adoptive father murmured your name from across the table. He had requested to have dinner with just you today. Why, you had zero clue, but you tried to remain calm. "Are you unwell?"

"Apologies, Father... just, thinking..." you whispered, unable to look up at him. You found it hard to be in his presence already, let alone make eye contact with him as of recent.

Your adoptive father sighed, and then spoke, "You're thinking about why I asked to have dinner alone, and if this means what I'm about to tell you..."

Your heart skipped a slight beat, blood creeping through your veins with reluctant fear. "Yes..."

"Well then, I suppose I should ease your mind then..."

Your sense stilled with a sudden anticipation, as if every nerve in your body waited to watch.

"I have chosen a suitor for you. One I'm sure you'll be pleased with," he said, a proud yet firm thrill in his tone. For some reason, Satoru's face flashed in your thoughts, despite the the cold that now settled in your spine.

"I see..." Your shoulders caved a little, the news still hitting you as unexpectent, like some part of you still hoped that he was going to give you what you wanted: solitude and space to find your own purpose, to discover what you wanted your world to be...

"You are to marry into the Kamo bloodline, to Haruto."

Haruto. As in his youngest son. Your adoptive brother.

That was the final nail in your coffin. You would never be able to leave.

___________________________________________________________

You didn't cry. You didn't move. You weren't even sure you were breathing.

Your adoptive father could sense your apparent shock, and allowed you to excuse yourself to your room to give yourself time to think. A small, hidden mercy.

He was waiting for you back in the dining room, going to be expecting an answer, or maybe even thanks.

Just so the Kamos could get their hands on you?

Dog. Dog. Dog. Dog-

You are to marry into the Kamo bloodline, to Haruto.

The last words your father said before you left the room sounded in your head the loudest: With your technique mixed with our blood, we can finally have techniques level to, if not above, the Gojos. Be merry, (Y/N). You will finally be one of us.

Everything made so much sense now.

He wanted you for your technique. You were never a Kamo, you were of no use to him except for this.

He killed your parents to get your technique.

He killed your parents. Ordered the hit so Toji could murder them to cover himself, and then steal you while he pretended to head an investigation.

To get you. To get your technique into the Kamo bloodline. To become a breeding mare to his son.

Your adoptive father killed your parents.

You bit back your scream, your anguish, your tears. A lifetime as a sorcerer had taught you how to channel that anger, that fear... and it taught you how to use it as well.

Your hand reached for the gilded knife that you always kept beneath your pillow. It had been a graduation gift from him. 

Your breath hitched. Were you really going to do this? He took you in where you would have had no one, gave you shelter and security, trained you as a child and comforted you as well-

But it doesn't matter.

He killed your parents.

___________________________________________________________

Satoru's body always seemed to move faster than his brain. Especially now.

Snow crunched beneath his boots as he strode, thick and packed from that morning's snow storm. The night remained clear, moonlight shining off the stone path to the Kamo household like watery gems.

If anything, the biting cold made he want to turn back, but he wouldn't stop, couldn't. He knew that he had to do something about your situation, not just for you, but for himself too.

Satoru knew the best course of action would be to strike this agreement as soon as he could, when your adoptive father would least expect it, to catch him off guard. He could do the convincing part later, even if his true reasonings didn't matter in this case.

But what should he say? He's never asked anyone's father if he can marry their daughter, let alone when that father is the leader of the Kamo Clan and when that daughter is also you, his friend, his... everything now, he realized. He had nothing left but you-

There was a body on the front steps.

Satoru rushed forward, quickly, almost too quickly, recognizing you-

You were bruised, bloody, completely stripped of your clothing, face down in the snow-

Shit. What did they do? How long have you been here?

Satoru immediately sensed the servants, no, Kamo members, by their cursed energy, walking towards the door. He needed to get you out of here, make sure you were alive-

Satoru practically tore his coat off, wrapping your body and taking you into his arms. When the sliding door opened, the only trace of you was your blood on the steps.