#i had the hardest time picking my top 3

[tinythebunni]

perv!stebro!Rafe Cameron <3

you had to know what you were doing. there was no way you were this fucking dense that you couldn’t see what you were doing to Rafe. walking around in those tiny fucking skirts and thinner than a piece of paper crop tops and baby tees. and you never wore a bra. Rafe was 90% sure you were sent up here by the devil herself to punish him for something. but it really was just the fact his dad happened to wanna fuck your mom more than just as a one night stand.

you always seemed to be tanning outside right when he was about to leave for the country club. as if you were trying to tempt him into staying and fucking you into his mattress and bruising your throat. you wore low cut tops almost everyday and it made him fantasize about leaving hickies there. how you’d whimper and lift your hips to try and get some kind of friction. how you’d try and make him touch you but he wanted to spend his time making you wait. making you feel as insufferable as you acted.

the first thing that made him lose his cool was when you came downstairs while Topper and Kelce were in the living room. now sure Rafe was still getting used to you being in the house with him since the wedding. but you had come downstairs in the tinies bikini top known to man. with a barely there skirt that didn’t even cover the swell of your ass. he was sure his eyes were bugging out of his head.

“nah. who the fuck do you think is letting you out the house like that?” you tried changing his mind, jus bc you really wanted to go to the pier and shop! but he wouldn’t budge.

“you look like a whore, go change. ‘not dealing with bullshit while i’m sober.” you cried all the way up to your bedroom and slammed your door. while Rafe only sat back down in his chair, manspreading and rubbing his jaw.

“jeez man you were kind of harsh” Kelce tried to defend you but he didn’t get far.

“nah y’don’t know the shit i gotta deal with here. fucking teasing me all the time.”

the second time he almost lost his cool was when you decided you were going to go to one of Barry’s parties, which Rafe was not at all gonna let fucking happen.

Barry always threw crazy ragers that basically turned into fucking or orgies all night. you’d never been to one of his parties but Rafe knew some bitch ass little boy probably invited you, trying to get into your panties.

once again you tried your hardest to get him to let you go but he didn’t let up. “not letting you go to some party just so you can get roofied and traumatized for the rest of your life. ‘r too sweet for all of that and i don’t feel like having to kill anyone today.”

you stomped your foot and pouted up at him. “this is so not fair! you’re not even my daddy!”

hearing that name come out of your mouth had Rafe groaning and looking up at the ceiling for some kind of strength to grasp onto, so he didn’t choke you or fuck you against this door. he gave you one last look and reached behind you to lock the door. he could hear your breath hitch as his head was right by yours, locking his eyes onto yours as you heard the click of the lock.

“stay in the house. ‘m not fucking with you bambi.” he chastised, walking back to the couch without even glancing your way. you looked at him a little longer, watch as he palmed himself through his jeans and slid back in the cushions. you let out a sad sound and slouched back upstairs. crying all your pretty heart out into your heart shaped pillow.

the last time, Rafe couldn’t take it anymore. you finally started to notice his attraction to you. and boy were you happy. you’d been wanting to fuck him for months now! fingering yourself and rubbing your clit raw to the sound of his voice and the feeling of his hands on you. you were basically in heaven!

Rafe didn’t know what changed but all of a sudden your teasing got more evident. you’d drop the remote and bend over to pick it up, giving him a view of the plump lips you had hidden behind cotton underwear. sometimes you’d leave the bathroom door open so he could see you shower behind the steamy glass.

in the present day you asked him to bake cupcakes with you. something innocent and sweet, what could it hurt? but when you asked him to try it, that’s when it all went downhill. Rafe dipped his finger in the batter and brought it to his lips, sucking the flavor off and deciding if it was done.

“taste perfect bunny, now you try it.” and you did. you looked up at him, taking two steps forward, and grabbed his right wrist. He looked at you with a confused glint in his eyes, as you dipped his finger in the batter and wrapped your lips around it. tenderly kitten licking the tip of it and suckling as you let it pop from between your lips.

“sweet and creamy, just perfect!” you smiled, like a cheshire cat. he only stared at you, pupils blown and cheeks flushed. you began to get a little bit nervous. you wanted to turn around and rgo to your room to sleep for all eternity!

as you frowned and turned to walk away, he grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you to him, and as you skidded to a stop he wrapped his hands around your waist and flipped you over his shoulder. he walked away from the oven preheating oven, turning it off of course, and up to his room.

“Rafe what are you doing! come on put me down!” you yelled at him. he only slapped your ass, effectively shutting you up. you felt shame, arousal, and nervousness creep into your gut as you could only watch his backside walk up the stairs and away from the kitchen.

you saw him walk into a room and when he turned around to lock the door, you saw he was in his room. you heard the lock click and felt him start to walk towards the bed, finally putting you down.

“do you know how much self control i’ve wasted trying not to fuck you against every surface of the house, just for you to kiss me in the goddamn kitchen?” he asked pacing with an angry look on his face. you shook your head with your lips parted slightly and eyes glossy. you felt like a bunny in front of an angry wolf. you couldn’t tell if it was sexy, scary, or both.

“i’ve tried so fucking long to convince myself that maybe, just maybe, you didn’t know how much of a fucking nuisance you were. how everytime you walked out the house in those tiny outfits, i’d go up to my room and jerk off to the thought of ripping them off of you.”

you were sure you looked stupid as fuck right now, only glancing up at him between your lashes and biting your lip. “say something bunny. speak up.”

“m sorry.” you whispered, choked up a little. he stopped pacing suddenly and turned to you. kneeling in front of you he brushed the single tear that fell from your eye off your cheek.

“oh baby, i’m not really mad at you. i’m sexually frustrated from the teasing you’ve been doing but i could never be mad at you sweet girl.”

he kissed both your cheeks and held your face in his hands. “lighten up baby. can’t give you what we both want if your sad.” he whispered, making you look up at him with only need in your eyes.

“what we both want?” you asked, albeit dumbly. “don’t play. i know you want me to fuck you. i can hear your moaning through the fucking walls bunny.” he began to mock your moans and whimpers as your whole face turned red and your chest flared with embarrassment. you finally stood up on your tip toes and kissed him. letting your lips collide in a feverish dance.

he kissed you at first, tenderly, tentative even. as if he was scared to break you. but the slight noises you’d let out as he applied pressure slightly made his thoughts go into a frenzy. he couldn’t keep up with his mind. his hands going from your waist, your ass, your neck, your back, and back to your waist.

he walked you backwards until you fell onto the bed where he crawled over you. “is this okay baby?” he asked as he kissed down your tummy between each word. you nodded with slight anxiety from what comes next.

as he slid your skirt up you yelled out a “wait!” he immediately pulled back as if he was burned.

“did i do something?” he asked, slight worry in his eyes.

“no no, not at all!” you replied, relief flooding through his veins. “i just, i haven’t shaved.”

he stared at you like you were dumb. “i don’t give a fuck. baby i’m a grown man, ion care about a little bit of hair.”

he kissed your clit through your panties after dat sentence and slowly pulled the down to your ankles. he tugged them off and wrapped them around your wrist to keep you still.

pulling a leg over each shoulder he licked one long stripe up your slit, kitten licking to wear he saw fit. this was what he was waiting for. drowning between your thighs. he could feel your arousal gushing out of you and mixing with the saliva on his tongue.

he laps at your cunt as if it’s his last meal, savoring everything he can. he’s mumbling gibberish, pussy drunk almost. babbling about how he needs this, how he wants to become full off of your juices and nothing else. he pushes his tongue inside of you and flicks at your g spot with his tongue. it’s a stretch but it’s worth the reaction it pulls out of you.

your back arches and your hands pull at the sheets next to you, looking for something to ground you. Rafe pulls a hand to your hip to hold you down, his dominant one going towards his pants. you can barely register the clink of his belt.

He pulls himself out of his confines and rubs his tip with b his thumb, spreading his precum around as lube. he tugs his cock in tandem with his long and steady licks of your cunt. he cums right before when you do. the groaning and moaning of his orgasm rushing through him vibrates on your cunt, making you hit your peak with a flame alight inside your whole body.

your orgasm rips through you and it’s blinding almost. you come to after he kisses your neck and lets his half hard cock sit on your tummy as he rubs your head trying to get you to come back to him.

“come on sweet girl, don’t tell me you’re sleep.” you drearily respond, barely there. he smiles starting a bath for you, grabbing a snack, and getting ready to take care of his best girl. only you.

[boolger]

A lapdog at a farm - chapter 4

<-former chapter -AO3 link -next chapter -> Call of duty. My ko-fi .Explicit, 18+, minors do not interact. read the tags. WC: 7.1k

tags: Rape/non-con elements, dub-con, dog!hybrid!people being kept as pets, alternative universe - farm, dark, farmer!John Price, working-dogs, punishments, mating cycles/rut/heat (no omegaverse), the dove isn't dead but its dying, it dies later on, reader is a brat, knotting, animal tails and ears, mentions of trauma, violence, angst, hurt/comfort, collars, rough sex, breeding kink, biting, threesome, foursome, everyone is fucking your honor, enemies to lovers, chubby reader, reader has a pussy

MDNI. MDNI. Dead dove do not eat.

Authors note: sorry for the wait, life challenged me to a knife duel and then I had do go on a workshop and such, bc I’m still unemployed. Also I got sick. Still kinda am. I’ll fix spelling mistakes tomorrow. Read the tags and if you don’t like how this fic is going, stop reading it.

Anyways. Enjoy sinners. Behave. 💖 Consider supporting my coffee addiction on ko-fi bc I’m a good girl and I updated.

The shed was filled with sounds, though nothing had to do with the work of the hybrids. The only thing they were working on was breaking you.

You felt like you were on fire; both from anger and from the pleasure of Soap’s way too skilled tongue. He was fucking you with it, real nasty about it as he forced a finger in next to it, growling into your wetness, seemingly trying to drink up any slick leaving you. His free hand kept your tail out of the way.

Caught in your own personal, rather sexual, hell.

You had almost given up on getting free. Gaz was still pressing your wrists down against the mattresses, tongue out as he wagged his tail, drool dripping down on your chest. Then he grabbed your wrists in one hand, which you could still not break out of, annoyingly so; only to pull up the crop-top that Price had chosen for you earlier.

That got Soap’s attention who barked happily into your pussy which made you growl - but you were distracted by the two fingers suddenly added to the first, to really care about your tits being out. He spread the fingers a little, tail wagging behind him, ears moving to pick up all your sounds.

You didn’t get more than that, fingers out before you could take a proper breath.

You growled intensely but there was no mercy; he forced his cock into your poor, dripping hole while you howled with pain - the three idiots daring to mockingly join in on your howl.

Full… in a different way than usual. It was as if your world stopped moving. This - this wasn’t your owner, this was just three brutes he had let into your life. When you had cried and whined about not wanting to live here, you didn’t mean for him to try to fix it with these 3.

Their cocks would never be as nice as John’s.

Hell, you would even take Nik’s.

Soap pulled back a little, before he trusted inside again a little harder than before. A little whimper left you, your eyes closing, trying your hardest to ignore the sparkles you saw behind your eyelids.

His knot, though not fully expanded in any way, pressed against your pussy; you couldn’t remember the last time you had been knotted. You didn’t remember it being a nice one either.

Each thrust made a wave of hate and pleasure run through you and sounds left you at each of them. Your ears tipped back, writhing in the grip of the hybrids.

Worse? They both seemed to get off of it.

They made out above you, Gaz’ bulge pressed against your face, as you watched them kiss each other with an intense heat, nose bumping together in every one of Soap’s thrusts, that hit so deep inside you wailed at every one of them.

Ghost was behind Soap suddenly, grabbing onto his Mohawk and forcing his head back a little.

“C’mon pup, fuck her better than that,” the bigger man snarled and Soap’s thrusts easily became faster, more desperate; his strong fingers digging into the fat of your thighs so hard, that you knew it was a matter of moments before his claws would pierce though your skin.

There were three pair of eyes staring at you as your moans and sobs intertwined into a mess, making you feel smaller than you had for a while.

“Look at you now,” Gaz crooned, his fingers palming your tits, pressing his bulge against your face a little again, “much more sweet now, huh?”

“Sh- uh - ah fuck - shut up.”

Gaz merely snickered at your attempt and as you tried moving your face to nip at his bulge, he easily moved back and slapped your cheek.

It didn’t help in any way that Soap decided to touch your clit in that exact moment. Pain bloomed in your cheek, while pleasure bloomed in your pussy, the little shed filling with lewd and loud sounds of the fucking.

Soap was fucking you so hard and good that it made you whine and howl a little in between your pathetic moans and growls.

Gaz’ grip tightened on you as you fought - a scream left you as Soap leant forward, one hand brutally attacking your clit with clumsy, energetic fingers while he decided to sink his teeth into your shoulder.

It wasn’t a soft bite. In fact, it continued to press into your skin, the fangs pressing deeper and deeper, before it snapped; teeth buried into your skin, breaking the barrier. Together with the thrusts and assault on your clit continuously, it seemed to be what your body had needed.

You came almost silently, twitching and cramping, Soap fucking you through it, growling while his teeth was buried in your skin. It was like everything became white with the intensity of the many feelings all at once, your mind leaving your body for a couple of seconds.

Then, as you felt your mind finally returning, another thing happened… Soap pushed fully in, like the bastard he was! Knot a little expanded, he pushed into your cunt, forcing you to take it.

It was too much; you sobbed with horror and pleasure as his knot fully expanded, effectively binding the two of you together. You could feel his cum fill up your insides, feel the way his cock twitched, Soap moaned and even more seed was forced into you. Your only relief was knowing the implant you had, at least stopped them from knocking you up.

Soap finally let go of you, blood dripping from his mouth like he was a feral animal, hands holding you down as you wailed, trying to get away from the knot. It was too much, too much.

“Bonnie lass,” the mutt crooned at you, leaning forward to run his bloody tongue along your cheek, laughing as you tried biting his hearing aid - before running his tongue over the wound he had left.

He rubbed his head against you like a desperate animal, as if he was a cat and not a dog hybrid, nuzzling against your armpits, even licking them, get his bloody spit all over you.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

When Nikolai entered, it was like all the flowers inside John’s stomach bloomed; the other man easily had all his attention, even if he wasn’t supposed to be here.

“Didn’t Princess give you the phone?”

“Da - but she said you need mechanic and that is lie,” Nikolai answered, sitting down on the desk that barely creaked beneath him, “I am here - no need for mechanic.”

“Oh, you suddenly know how to fix tractors too?” John couldn’t help but let some of his disbelief seep through his words, making Nikolai snort.

“I do - planes too, if you have one of those, my friend.”

There was an odd peaceful silence in between the two of them; none of them said anything but John felt Nik’s eyes on him nonetheless, undressing him in his mind. The urge to fill this silence with their moans wer— wait.

Silence?

John blinked, listening for another moment for one of his puppy’s dramatic sighs but as none came, looking towards the door, expecting you to be annoyed with having to have left the house… nothing. He looked at Nikolai again, unable to keep the nervousness from his voice.

“Where’s sweetheart?”

Nikolai chuckled darkly, looking rather pleased with himself.

“Playing with the other dogs.”

“… I highly doubt that.” John almost rolled his eyes as he spoke. If there was one thing you had made sure was known ever since they arrived, was that you didn’t want to spend time with them.

“Well, they’re playing with her then,” Nikolai shrugged as John hurried to open one of the apps on his phone, running through the options until he reached the camera in the dog shed. Where his precious puppy were.

Crying and screaming, twisting even as pleasure overtook you, the others too much for you.

Dark want rushed through Price, as he saw them sink their teeth into your soft skin, heard you shriek out another curse and cry bloody murder; the want was overtaken by feeling bad for even putting you in that situation.

“I should go look—“

His phone was taken from his hand as Nikolai then pulled him close; flushed against each other, Nik’s front pressed against his back… cock slowly filling.

“Net,” he rumbled, “you need to stay here.”

“They’ll be too rough,” John argued, watching with both delight and fear as they made you came, “I nee—“

He was pulled into Nik’s lap without warning, the man sitting down in the office chair with a little sigh; his strong hands on John’s own body, sliding beneath the knitted sweater, grabbing onto some of his skin.

“It will be good for her,” Nikolai promised darkly, breathing deeply against John’s neck, as if to take in his taste, “this is why you got them, eh?”

It was; at least, it had been one of the reasons. As much as he loved you, you couldn’t control his life and he had changed everything around the two of you already - it was only fair he made sure you were taken care of too.

“They’ll break ‘er skin,” he muttered, already feeling his cock hardening like a traitor, distracted from the sight of the pups absolutely ruining you, by Nikolai’s warm, rough hands beneath his clothes.

“We will fix her,” Nikolai easily replied, scraping his teeth along John’s neck, as if he was considering doing the same, “let them play- they need to establish hierarchy.”

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

When Soap’s knot finally deflated you tried turning away from him, getting on your knees; only for Gaz to push your upper body down again, a hand pressing down between your shoulder blades.

Soap’s tail was thumping against the barely made nest and though he clearly looked blissed out, he still helped Gaz, pressing your head down against the mattress, even as you tried getting away. Scratching at the mattress with your fingers.

“Fuck, this pussy,” Gaz crooned lovingly, “this is what I’ve been dreaming off.”

You growled against the fabric, trying to move away, but his fingers sank into your hips, claws once again pressing dangerously hard into your skin.

His cock filled you up with a couple of thrusts, slower than soap’s intense one; as if he was taking his time enjoying you. A deep huff of pleasure left him and you barked, trying to scratch at Soap.

It earned you a hard slap on the ass, taking you by surprise - and then the thrusts came suddenly and quickly. There was no mercy and you began crying again. The mixed hybrid was growling deeply, moving so that he was fully pressed against your back - hands grabbing your wrist pressing them against the nest.

Then he fucked you. The thrusts were short and sharp, he didn’t pull out as far as Soap had, but it was like a constant hammering instead, without any kind of relief from the pressure. He sniffed and panted into your neck while you wailed - and then he did the same as Soap had.

He sunk his teeth into your skin, fangs pressing deep and breaking skin, and for the second time, you were bitten. Only, Gaz let go much quicker, barking at your cries, before repeating his action.

Never stopping his movement.

No words could leave you. It was animalistic sounds, created from the chaos that the hybrids had forced into your mind, blending hatred and lust together.

It sent shivers down your spine as you tried to drown out Gaz’ words about your ass, about you being a little silly lapdog, about being too spoiled to shut up and accept things didn’t have to go your way.

It felt like he went on forever and you managed to come twice, the second one squirting - which meant you got Soap all up in your business, pushing himself in between Gaz fucking you, lapping up your juices like he was dying of thirst.

It made you attempt to squirm away, his face being pressed against your clit every thrust, together with Gaz’ balls. Gaz was drooling, slobbering all over your shoulders and sinking his teeth into your skin, new places and into your already broken skin.

Chaotic and wrong, moans sept into your threats, promising you would mess them up, which they barely seemed to notice. As if they knew you were more bark than bite, which wasn’t exactly wrong. Soap finally pulled away and Gaz pressed his slightly expanded knot inside you, before pulling it out again, before repeating the motion again and again.

Then Soap was suddenly in your face, pulling your head up by your ears, making you cry out, kissing you slobbingly and intensely - and for once, you proved that you could bite, sanded down teeth or not.

Soap pulled back with a yelp, then a grin appeared on his face a moment later, his own blood mixing into yours, dripping from his lip, as you growled at him.

Of course the crazy pup liked it.

Every time Kyle forced his knot inside again, you cried - every time he forced it out you wailed, gripping the sheets harder, tugging at them while you found yourself screaming, begging for him to just knot you properly. To stop torturing you like that and apparently, it was what Kyle had wanted to hear.

One last time, he forced it inside and pressed further into you than before, almost putting his entire body weight on you; you moaned and whimpered as it got stuck, his cum forced into your womb, just like Soap had done. He continued rolling his hips in small motions, making you sob into the sheet, closing your eyes. Then he bit down yet another time, another spurt of cum inside you.

He gnawed a little on your shoulder like a chew toy and all you could think about was how you would rather have John do this to you.

The pain from everything made you space out, panting into the mattress, sniffling a little. Ignoring the tongues running over your shoulders and neck, how they cooed at you.

Good little puppy. A good bitch now, aren’t you? Knew ye could behave, bonnie lass, just needed some knots. Dinnae throw a fuss. Stupid lil city dog, aren’t ya?

Kyle tugged you and tipped the two of you to the side, ignoring the way you cried out as his knot tugged.

Minutes went by as you waited for the knot to go down, trying your best to remain calm.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

You felt sore all over, arms shaking as you tried raising your upper body, wincing at the cum sliding out of you and the way the bite marks stung. You weren’t just worried they had broken skin anymore, you knew they had. Blood was dripping down your arms, in between the already dried and caked parts, only making you feel more horrible.

Your beautiful, beautiful body - your skin. Those brutes! Curse them! Sons of bitches, all of them.

You felt pathetic, needy, weak; never wanting to leave the farm house again.

Gaz lazily barked at you as you tried getting up, but he was laying next to you, clearly blissed out, so you used the moment to escape… or at least attempted to.

A large hand pushed down on your back, the weight pushed upon you, forcing you down with a squeal - Ghost let out a deep growl as a reply.

The moment the hand was away, you scrambled, hearing his knees hit the mattress behind you. Ghost seemingly didn’t care that you tried slipping between his fingers; he merely grabbed your tail and tugged you back, hard. Ignoring your sob of pain, continuing to growl deeply, trying to force his dominance down upon you.

As if there was any question of who was the one in charge here. The sound of a zipper.

“No - fuck, let go, no more, no more!” You attempted pathetically, tears springing to your already puffy eyes, “I can’t - no more!”

“Yes you can,” Ghost just rumbled darkly, Soap and Gaz letting out small barks in support.

You fought him but it didn’t matter.

One hand on your hip, having a tight grab on some of your fat, the other sliding to your front, grabbing your throat - forcing you up on your knees. Your back pressed against his front, his cock thrusting in between your thighs a couple of times.

You cried at the mere sight of the cock in between your thighs. Yes, you were a size queen but not to brutes like them. Mutts, idiots, assholes, working dogs, hounds —

His fat cock entered you in one thrust, making you scream, desperately trying to wiggle away. Any movements merely made the cock slide in a little more, the knot pressing against your hole. Your scream turned silent as he gave a little thrust, your mind going blank, body giving small twitches. Much to the amusement of Ghost if you had to guess from the way he chuckled. Tongue licking your human ear. Gaz was staring with big eyes, Soap panting, drool dripping from his tongue.

You whined. He hadn’t even moved that much, but it felt like the cock was in your throat.

“Look at you, puppy,” he crooned darkly, “all you needed was some knots to shut up, huh?”

You couldn’t reply with anything but a few messy moans and Ghost gave a little thrust more, bullying his cock a little deeper,almost making your eyes cross.

“See how good you can be, hm?” Ghost continued, “tight pussy just needed to be fucked dumb. You’re much sweeter now.”

His hand tightened around your neck, pressing your tags on the collar into your skin. His palm pushed at your chin a little with its size.

“Don’t worry,” Ghost continued, before nosing your shoulder a little, a pitiful cry leaving you as his tongue slid over some of the bleeding, burning bite marks, “we can fuck you whenever ye want, princess. Perfect, innit?”

You tried shaking your head, but then Ghost let go, pushing your upper body down again- you barely managed to save yourself from slamming your head into the mattress.

There was no more waiting. He just grabbed onto your hips, pulled out his cock as far as possible and began to fuck you mercilessly.

Hard, commenting about the way your body jiggled and how lucky they were to end up somewhere with a soft bitch like you; how they would get you used to their cocks, addicted to them. How they would knock you up. Give you all the litters you wanted.

You hated how good it felt, how you cried and moaned, how your body shook and how you came. Unable to escape, crying and barking, ears tipped back.

He delivered a last bite right onto the back of your neck, as he forced his knot inside your poor pussy, filling you up; sinking his fangs into you, breaking the skin as you screamed and came once more, filled up with his knot. Cum unable to escape.

You sobbed into the mattress while stuck to Ghost, who grumbled but didn’t hit you. Gaz and Soap were cooing at you again, licking away tears and nuzzling closer, telling you how good you looked, how much fun you all were going to have.

Then you could hear them kissing above you, but you didn’t look, mind overwhelmed.

It was like you were hot all over; it had been years since you had had a heat and you feared, just for a moment, that your body would spontaneously go into one, from the knotting and biting, the breeding behavior you had just gone through.

It was the familiar feeling of warmth spreading from your chest to your cunt, Ghost growling slightly as you tightened around his knot from the feeling. You were pretty sure your implant was going to save you. Hopefully. The idea of getting knocked up by them right now almost made you want to throw a fit.

But beneath them, being beneath Ghost at the moment, throwing a tantrum would bring you nothing. His clothes pressed against your bare body, save from the top that was pushed beneath your tits, felt too hot.

The shed stunk of sex, blood and sweat. You pretended you didn’t like how the musky, male hybrid scent wasn’t slightly nice. How a little part of you wanted to lick away the sweat drops beneath Ghost’s chin.

Nasty, they were all nasty and you hated them.

You didn’t get up, even as his knot deflated. Ghost rumbled, clearly pleased. Licking at your neck a couple of times.

Then, some of the horses neighed loudly. All three of them stiffened, while you laid there, cum dripping out of you, not caring.

“I’ll go check it out,” Ghost answered, getting up, zipping up as if it was as easy as that. Giving your ass a clap that made your pussy clench around nothing.

The moment he was out the door you were stumbling to your feet, managing to grab John’s jacket. Soap’s tail wagged and he barked, getting up himself - but Gaz held him back.

“Nah, let her run back ‘nd whimper, Soap.”

You didn’t stay to hear the reply. You just bolted to the house, jacket barely on, naked from the waist down. Feet sinking slightly into the muddy parts of the farm, towards the door you had been thrown out earlier.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

You were a crying mess, John cooing at you, drying your tears with a worried look in his eyes, while Nik seemed more calm. They both stank of sex but you were too upset to care. Humiliation from not being able to escape them, the need to be cared for, to be loved was overwhelming.

They made you bend over the couch at first, Nik’s fingers pressing into you, John softly hushing you as you cried.

“No tear,” he confirmed a moment after, pulling his fingers out, with a soft pat on your ass.

“Let’s get you a bath, princess.” You nodded while whining, clinging onto Nik as he lifted you up.

“We might need to get those checked out,” Nik nodded towards your shoulders and back and you looked over at John, who didn’t look too happy. Even Nik, who was much more calm, didn’t seem to be too enthusiastic despite how he hadn’t stepped in earlier.

The water in the tub was nice. Usually you would fight a little when it came to showers, but you were putty in their soft hands, carefully helping you get free of mud, dried blood and cum.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Alex Keller and Farah Karim appeared just around ten minutes later, parking in the big driveway, near the barn. They had apparently just visited Rudy and Rodolfo, or at least so you heard them talking about in the entrance.

Normally you would be barking at the mere door opening, curiosity overwhelming over who could give you attention now.

You were laying on your stomach on the couch, wearing panties and with a blanket over you, fur and hair still a little damp.

“There she is,” Farah mused as she entered the living room, taking in your otherwise quiet demeanor in contrast to your usual intense one, “poor puppy got all messed up, huh?”

A barely audible growl left you.

“Cut her some slack, Farah,” Alex said, following after her, his new fancy prosthetic leg that was electrical, saying a soft noise you assumed wasn’t something the humans could hear.

“He won’t send them away,” you just replied, sending John a stink eye, which made Nik chuckle while John at least looked a little upset about it.

“We will teach them to be gentle,” Nik mused to which you huffed, because that wasn’t helping one bit.

“Let us see then,” Farah said, stepping over to the couch, while Alex followed, putting their bags down on the table.

You sat up, turning your back towards them, pulling the blanket down to expose your bites, both of the vets stepping closer.

Alex let out a little whistle. Your ears tipped back a little.

“That is some nasty bites,” Farah agreed and you could hear them put on plastic gloves. Despite your anger towards your owner right now, you sent John a desperate look - and the man was with you in mere seconds, one hand gently holding onto your collar, the other caressing your dog ear, in an attempt to calm you down. You hated how it instantly helped. You didn’t really have good memories with vet visits despite knowing Farah and Alex were always sweet and careful with you.

At the first touch of a gloved hand near your bite, you moved instantly, grabbing onto John’s arm with a whine.

“Sorry lovely,” Farah apologized, “we’ll have to clean them up - I’m afraid two of them might need a stitch or two.”

“We’ll numb the area first, don’t worry,” Alex was quick to add in a softer tone.

If this didn’t prove to John and Nik that the hybrids shouldn’t be near you, you didn’t know what would.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Farah and Alex left half an hour later, with you being prescribed antibiotics and painkillers.

Nik and John spoke in hushed voices while you watched television, John having given you some snacks.

“Nik and I are going to town, Princess,” John said a moment later, entering the room to give you another pat on the head, “we’ll be back in an hour or two.”

“What if they go in here-“ you whined, “I wanna go, I wanna-“

“Hush. You can’t rip the stitches, you’re staying here. We’ll lock the door, Laswell will make sure you’re left alone, alright?”

“MmKay.”

You stayed in the living room most of the day, watching rom coms and reality television. Nothing like watching two hybrids fall in love, but not being allowed to meet, their owners despising each other.

When your owner and Nik returned, they had brought several things - most importantly, some nicely baked cake for you, as a treat. Your tail wagged while eating it. If you closed your eyes, it was like you were back in the city again.

Imagining you weren’t out in the country, that you were in a fancy apartment and not an old farmhouse; that the sounds in the background was the music of the city and not—

The sounds of a cow mooing. You huffed, took another bite, closing your eyes and daydreamed once more.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

“Go on, then.”

You blinked at John’s voice, sterner than last time, for a moment afraid if you’d done anything wrong. The painkillers were making you a little slow, so you blinked a couple of times, before you were able to focus your eyes on the people in the living room.

And instantly tip your ears back in a growl at the sight of the three hybrids, John and Nik standing behind them.

“Go away.” You growled, to which Ghost huffed, rolling his eyes and shooting John a look. John merely crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow at him. As if to dare him to not follow the order they’ve been told.

“I’m sorry that I hurt ye, cuilean. I dinnae mean tae. Nae this badly.” It was Soap who said it first, actually looking apologetic as you laid there on the couch, staring at them, Gaz nodding along.

“Yeah sorry,” Gaz’ ears were tipped down, tail even a little between his legs, “we won’t bite you again like that, I swear, we never meant to hurt you.”

You wanted to get them castrated. Despise not really liking their apologies, you looked over at Ghost then, waiting. The big guy didn’t say anything, just stared at you - that was until Soap elbowed him in the ribs, the pale man finally grunted out; “Sorry sweetheart.”

John looked expectantly at you, a small smile on his face, as if to say ‘look! They can be good!’. You scrunched your eyebrows together in a frown. That was it?

You deserved poems, movies, dances, songs, art pieces created in a mere attempt of apologising properly.

“I still hate you.”

It made Soap laugh, grinning with all his teeth, while John groaned behind them, touching his face. Nik seemed amused too however.

“Good enough for now. We will work on bonding later, da?”

“They can bond with each other,” you answered, curling together on the couch, “bite each other to pieces.”

“We apologized,” Ghost argued in a dry voice, as if he barely believed in it himself.

“Fuck off.”

Ghost smiled at your stubbornness, before letting John kick them into the kitchen so that they could be fed before being sent out again.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Your time with them was limited for a couple of days, much to your enjoyment. You got extra attention, John and Nik were careful around you — John did eat you out on the third day, when you became frustrated, Nik cooed at you in Russian as you came. Even Laswell was a little nicer to you.

You got scratches beneath your chin, kisses and touches and the pain meds helped stop the thundering pain from the bite marks, which were at least healing nicely.

You slept at your master’s - and his boyfriend’s - feet, leisuring around the house while they worked throughout the day.

Apparently the military bastards knew how to do their jobs, at least. They stopped and caught a fox before it got a chicken, kept the wolves at bay and helped throughout the day. They made sure to watch at night, too apparently.

Then it was rainy one day… and it rained a lot that night. It seemed to never end and when you were called to eat breakfast, you had assumed the working dogs were out. But they weren’t.

In fact, two of them stood in the doorway, close to the dinner table, watching as their third pack mate, Soap, quietly sat on the bench while Nikolai and John looked him over. They all had damp hair and Gaz’s and Ghost’s boots were covered in mud, making you scrunch your nose in disgust. Dirty mutts.

“Good morning bird,” Gaz greeted, looking over you and smiling as you coughed so that they would move. They did so and you stepped into the kitchen, not answering the greeting.

It was only when you passed him that Soap looked up and grinned at you.

“Hiya bonnie lass,” his words sounded… slurred in a way. A tad too loud, but his tail was thumping at the sight of you. You huffed, looking at Nikolai as he sighed and put down a piece of tech you didn’t know.

“I’m afraid you need to fix by professional,” Nikolai said, looking at John, “it’s all completely ruined.”

“Hm, that’s what I figured,” John said, “alright. We’ll go get it done today, just so he can feel better soon.”

“Gonna do what?” You asked as you sat down at your common spot, looking confused for a moment - then Nikolai pointed to the technology that was dripping with water and mud.

“Soap’s hearing aid is broken,” Nik replied, “we have to get a new one.”

“You guys can go out and help Laswell - I’m gonna go to town together with Soap and—“

Growls.

You tried making yourself smaller, even though they weren’t raised towards you.

“We’re not leaving him.”

“What is dae matter?” Soap’s voice was loud, as his head turned from person to person.

John was staring at Ghost who had crossed his arms.

“It won’t take long,” John replied but Ghost just growled again.

“No.”

“Ghost,” John’s voice was kept calm but steady, “Soap’s not going to get hurt. We will get him fitted for one and find a kind that fits him the best - then we’ll come back. Bringing you two along won’t be necessary.”

Ghost didn’t look one bit convinced but John turned towards Soap anyways, leaning closer to his human ear on the left side of his face.

“You’ll need new hearing aids,” he explained, voice loud and words clear, “Nikolai and I will take you to town to get them fixed.”

He pulled back and Soap looked confused but nodded.

“I dinnae want to make trouble,” he promised, ears tipping back a little, “I can make it work!”

John shook his head, giving Soap a small smile before reaching up and giving his head a pat. His tail instantly began to wag again.

“You didn’t do it on purpose,” John answered, keeping his voice loud, “it’s okay. You would need new ones eventually.”

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

John and Nikolai left after breakfast, with the herding dog in the backseat, muzzle on his face - just in case.

You had forgotten the fact Soap had lost some of his hearing, though you had noticed the hearing aid now and again.

Ghost and Gaz didn’t seem one bit happy with their bonded mate leaving, even though they knew he would be back. Laswell was using them though, making them help fix things, so you dared to relax again, enjoying the little sun ray that hit one of your dog beds perfectly.

The peace and quiet that you had enjoyed and the lack of attempts at being forced to spend time with the men was seemingly coming to an end, at least for one specific pup.

Soap was back, giant grin on his face but no hearing aids, since they apparently decided to buy a fancy kind that had to be shipped to the clinic in the nearest town.

Which meant Soap was in house rest for the next couple of days.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

At first Soap left you alone, merely staying close but not messing with you. He slept in one of your dog beds, muttering - or at least trying to - about how nice and soft it was.

All you could think about was that it needed to get washed, because you weren’t sleeping in something that stank of him. You even suspected he jerked off into the fuzzy fabric. Nasty.

John had merely told you to be nice and share when you complained; that Soap wasn’t used to being indoors like this, wasn’t used to remaining still and not having something to do - that he didn’t like not being able to hear.

You tried, at least a little, to be overbearing, making it rather visible when he got too close and you didn’t like it.

He would disappear now and again to see his mates, and come back with a wagging tail, salvia wet lips and a pleased smile on his face.

As long as he kept his distance.

It was on the second day however, when taking a nap in your own room, in the fuzzy, soft dog bed, that the mutt caught you off guard.

You slowly woke to a nice and pleasurable feeling, letting out a deep pleased sigh as you blinked a couple of times, slightly confused over what was making you feel this way. Of why your legs felt slightly cold. Only to blink a couple of times, half lidded eyes looking down — seeing Soap with his dirty paws on you, tongue halfway into your cunt.

His tail was wagging, ears turning towards you and he didn’t even stop when he realized you had woken up. If anything, he just quickened his tongue’s movement, thrusting it into your cunt, tightening his hands on your thighs.

“‘S okay, Bonnie lass,” he cooed, a slight slurred tone to his voice as he pulled back a little, tongue and slick dripping from his mouth and chin, before he crawled up to you. You didn’t have time to protest, the bigger hybrid settling in behind you, the lack of his own pants clear as he settled against your back, his cock pressing against your asscheeks. His hands slid around your body, holding you close and letting out a deep breath as if the both of you just woke from the nap.

You twitched slightly and he kissed you cheek, “dinnae throw a fit, please,” he mumbled against it, voice still a little loud.

“I will yell for master,” you warned with a growl. The other just let out a “mhmm,” in agreement and you weren’t really sure whether he had truly heard your threat or not. Even if he had, you weren’t sure if it would have stopped him.

Despite your confused and tired attempt at pulling free, squirming and attempting to claw at whatever you could reach, it was no help.

His cock slid into your pussy, which was looser than you liked. Your eyes rolled back for a moment and Soap let out a deep growl, that sounded more pleased than anything.

You writhed, unable to help it, the cock hitting you so well, which you didn’t like. Well, you liked it, the pleasure, but you didn’t want to give in.

You cried out at a deeper thrust, Soap moaning as well; it started deep in his chest and turned more high pitched, more needy. He was careful with your shoulders, keeping you pressed so close you couldn’t move them. The stitches were almost ready to come out and though there was a slight pain, it was not too much.

He fucked you better than you liked, whimpering behind you like a needy mutt in rut.

You couldn’t control your moans and cries, attempting to keep it down, to pretend you weren’t enjoying it. His thrusts were deep but quick, sending your mind spiraling. His knot teased your opening with each movement.

You moaned so loud it was bordering on a scream when he came, knotting you. Carefully licking your cheek, catching a few of your tears with a pleased hum.

It was barely a minute later before John opened the door quickly, looking worried, apron on, presumably making lunch - instantly looking at you. He blinked at the sight of you and Soap, before visibly calming, even smiling. How dared he, traitor, mea—

You let out a small sound as Soap wagged his tail, it thumbed against your bed quickly, making you mewl a little as the movement rushed through his hips and making his cock move, inside your cunt. The knot moving and pressing inside you, making you unable to breathe for a second, eyes rolling up.

Soap licked against your cheek and you pawed at his hands on you, ears tipped back a little.

“Horny pups,” said almost lovingly by Price who then patted your head, and you whined, annoyed by how you were stuck to Soap - or well, to his cock.

“Don’t like him, Sir,” you whined, using your best needy voice, ignoring Price’a raised eyebrow as another thrust made you gasp again.

“You seem to get along fine,” he just answered, patting Soap’s head to prove to the other man that it was fine - he moved Soap’s head to the side for a moment, taking a look at your shoulders, to make sure nothing was bleeding, “everything seems good. He can control himself then.”

“Castrate them,” you just replied, “cut off their dicks.”

John Price laughed. You still loved his laughter even if he didn’t understand your hatred for the mutts he had decided to add to the farm.

“When you get untangled, there’s lunch in the kitchen.”

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

When Farah and Alex returned to look at your wounds and remove your stitches, you felt your tail instantly go between your legs, ears down.

“It’s fine. I’m doing fine,” you argued, not making one move towards sitting down on the couch like last time. You knew Farah and Alex were only there to help you; however, you weren’t in pain like last, your mind saw no reason for them to be there. Surely the stitches would fall out or something?

“Princess,” your owner stepped towards you, your tail curling even further between your legs, “it’s fine, they’re gonna chec—“

You stumbled backwards, almost falling into Soap’s chest. He seemed confused at the sudden appearance of the two vets, who were smiling gently at the two of you. Yet when you curled around and behind him, he instantly straightened up.

You could hear Nik laugh. “They have been bonding!”

“Shut it, Nik,” John just answered while Alex huffed, your owner stepping closer, “darling, come on. We will be done in a minute.”

“They’ll file down my teeth.”

“Wha- no, of course they won’t, princess. You know I won’t let them do that.”

You sniffled, holding onto Soap’s shirt. There was a low growl from Soap.

You still very much hated him, but you could have kissed him.

“Dinnae.” Was all he said, slightly slurred and a little loud, but still. Body tense.

“She needs her stitches checked.” Farah’s voice cut through the room, loud and clearly not filled with patience, “we are here to clean them and remove them.”

Soap’s body language calmed down a little and you wanted to hit him, for giving up so easily. What kind of fucking safety was he supposed to offer when he gave in line this? Maybe you should just ask Farah to castrate him and the two other mutts while she was here.

“Sit,” John pointed towards the couch and Soap moved - pulling you by the arm, while you barked and argued a little.

In the end you curled up against him, John petting your hair, as they removed the stitches.

By now, everything seemed to be going as they should.

It wasn’t like when you got the fangs filed down or when you were declawed, but you were still afraid. Not that they could take much more from you.

Despite not liking either Farah or Alex being there, you still took the treat they offered you - managing to get it into your mouth before Soap could get too interested. He got his own and you didn’t like how both your tails wagged. But you allowed it for now.

The treat wasn’t as good as the weird one Nik had fed you the first day. You let out a dramatic sigh on the couch, making John roll his eyes - but he scratched your stomach a little before moving on, to do whatever it was farmers did.

You just ignored Soap, he was wagging his tail like a lovesick puppy next to you, sniffing your hair. You still hadn’t forgiven him or the others for anything.

His hearing aids came later that day. You kept your distance, watching Gaz and Ghost help him get it set up right, Nik and John right by them.

You wasn’t really upset that Soap went back outside… were you?

No. Not at all.

[ssahotchnerr]

i think it would be funny if y/n and aaron went to go pick ellie and jack up in the morning and JJ and pen were super cheeky about their night together.

the following morning

stop i adore that hehe that's so funny cw; fem!reader, dad!aaron, slight allusions to sex (nothing explicit), mentions of food, teasing banter and overall domestic fluff <3

on hiatus - part one

As soon as JJ opened the front door, the smug look on her face was the first noticeable thing; a knowing, devious glint in her eyes, eyebrows raised.

Aaron internally face palmed. "Don't start."

"Well look who it is. Enjoy your night?" She inquired amusingly, giving the both of you a quick look-over, Aaron more specifically. "You must've, you don't look nearly as tense as you did yesterday."

"Aaron? Tense?" You teased, grabbing his bicep and giving it an affectionate squeeze. Due to the polo he wore, you could easily feel his solidly built muscles. "Unheard of."

"You should've seen him." JJ allowed you both the room to enter, you closed the door behind. "He was begging us to take the kids off your hands."

"I wouldn't call it begging." Aaron defended himself, rolling his eyes to mask his itching smile. Guilty. "I simply asked if any of you were able to babysit."

"I don't know. The 'just a few hours, please' in the most desperate voice seemed a lot like begging to me." JJ quipped back, a smirk forming on her face.

"It was nice." You lovingly grinned at Aaron, still in the afterglow from the night before - you could feel the more-heightened-than-usual infatuation rippling throughout yourself. "Really, really nice."

"Did the two of you make a date night out of it?"

"No, we just stayed home."

"Oh I see, so right down to business-"

"Okay." Aaron blurted out, reentering himself into the conversation, his gaze moving down sheepishly for a moment. His expression took on a more serious look when lifted, "How were they?"

JJ casually crossed her arms, her mouth pursing nonchalantly. "Fine."

"How was Ellie?" You asked, your hand moving to Aaron's. "Was she difficult?"

"Not at all," JJ walked further in, the two of you followed. "She shed a few tears at bedtime, and I had some trouble getting her down. But once she was, she was fine. Especially once a movie was on."

"And she didn't keep the whole house up?" Aaron asked jokingly, but there was some seriousness within his words. With Ellie, you never knew.

"I think the boys wore her out honestly." JJ chuckled, her expression softening. "They were out in the yard for a bit. Poor thing, her little legs were trying their absolute hardest to keep up."

The three of you entered the kitchen, where breakfast was occurring. Ellie spotted the two of you first, the pigtails on her head absolutely disheveled and falling out from sleep. Her face lit up, "Mommy, Daddy!"

She scrambled out of her chair, her spoon clanging onto the table and rushing to Aaron's side.

"Hi Ellie Bellie." Aaron hoisted her up into his arms, giving her a smile. "Did you have fun?"

Ellie nodded enthusiastically, "Auntie Penny painted my nails." She stuck her hand out, displaying her fingers for him proudly. "They're pink."

"I see."

"We match," Penelope added from where she was also sat at the table; still in her pajamas, adorned in a colorful robe with a silk sleeping mask on her forehead. "Needless to say."

You wrapped your arms around Jack from behind, resting your chin on the top of his head. "How about you Jackers, have a good time?"

"Uh huh. We played soccer, then Henry and I built a whole Lego town. It had a park, neighborhoods, and we built where Dad, Aunt JJ and Aunt Penelope work too." Jack answered after a swallow of cereal, using his spoon to swirl around the marshmallows left in the milk. "We haven't taken it down yet if you wanna see."

"Um, of course we do." You gave him a squeeze, causing him to laugh. "And you were good for your Aunt JJ?"

He nodded, "I helped clean up the pizza we had for dinner."

"Cleared off the table without me even asking." JJ added, "Super helpful and sweet. As was Miss Ellie." She tossed Ellie just an equal grin - who bashfully hid her face in the crook of Aaron's neck.

After breakfast, Legos were viewed, all was cleaned and packed up, (Penelope also insisted on doing Ellie's hair), the Hotchners were on their way. Jack had practice in a few hours, and the usual Saturday errands were awaiting.

"Thank you again." Aaron told JJ, retrieving the stuffed bunny from Ellie, which she had just shoved at his thigh for him to hold, running out after her brother. "We owe you big time."

"Anytime, they're both always welcome, excuse needed or not. Although, Will and I may need to strike the same favor in return."

"Of course." You embraced her thankfully, juggling a tad due to Jack and Ellie's overnight bag in your hand - Aaron grabbed it from you before it could slip from your grasp. "Just let us know."

"So, are you ready to sleep in your own bed tonight?" Aaron asked Ellie, placing her bunny on her lap and strapping her into her carseat. He peered over at Jack too, ensuring his seat belt was fastened as well.

"Nope."

[azsazz]

Over Ice (Part 6)

Hockey!Rhysand x Reader

Summary: Anon Req: She’s walking around Campus and BOOM right smack dab into Broody McBrooder!! She THEN finds out he’s the tutor for one of her hardest courses (personally Psych would be a good one) and they become super duper close with him and the team!!!

Warnings: Mentions of reader's fictional father passing away.

Word Count: 3678

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5)

Notes: Lowkey feel like I'm losing the plot here but we'll see what happens. 🤞🏻

_________________________________________

“You should’ve dressed up as a naughty schoolgirl, show him how bad you really are,” your roommate, Gwyn, teases softly while Mor finishes the artwork that is her hair in the bathroom.

You snort, readjusting the top of your strapless green dress Mor forced you into. Dress being the relative term because this is no more than a scrap of silk with lace lining the hem. The bottom of the dress hardly covers the tops of your thighs, and if you drop something tonight, there will be no picking it up, lest you flash the entire hockey house your panties.

You don’t know how you’ve managed to get invited to another party. Of course, Rhys is Mor’s cousin and you’re sure that he had more than a little to do with you and your roommates attending this evening, but you’re surprised that Mor actually agreed to going. Usually, she’s up for any sort of antics that don’t revolve around sports, like frat parties or bars that don’t check ID’s, and you can’t help but wonder where this change of heart has come from.

Gwyn looks surprisingly chipper for someone who barely leaves the apartment, even more so for someone who has held strong on her stance never to attend a single hockey game nor party during her time at Velaris U. Another one with a harsh rule, you think, her determination reminding you of Rhys and his law that you and his teammates don’t mix.

Pfft, and here you are, getting ready to attend their Halloween party.

You’re not sure what Gwyn has against hockey, but right now, you appreciate that she’s coming more than she could ever know. You’re glad you missed out on whatever method Mor used to get her to come, but she looks cute in her pink dress. Her long, auburn hair is tied back with a big, red bow, and she has clip on bangs in for her costume as Blossom from the Powerpuff Girls. Mor claimed Bubbles, though you were hoping she would want to be Buttercup because her attitude more than matches the little green girls’.

You suppose you’ll need Buttercups strength tonight, because you’re more than determined to piss Rhysand off.

“He’s seen my psych grades, I think he already knows how bad I am,” you answer carefully, slipping your thigh-high white socks on. There’s an intricate lace fringe at the top, and you must admit, Mor picked out the perfect attire for your costumes. She’s somehow managed to give a children’s cartoon the perfect amount of skin for the occasion.

The only thing you’re not looking forward to is the tall, chunky boots she somehow managed to sneak into your dorm two weeks ago. You’ll never underestimate your best friend’s ability to curate the perfect costume.

Neither Mor nor Gwyn know that your tutor is Rhysand Cunningham. You haven’t had the guts to bring it up to Mor, even though your relationship with her cousin is nothing short of formal. Okay, so his teasing texts earlier and having to pretend to be his girlfriend in the presence of his ex weren’t keeping away from each other by any means, but there’s nothing going on between you two, so there’s no need to worry your friend.

You’re strapping your feet into the platform pumps when Mor emerges from the bathroom in a cloud of hairspray. Her pigtails are much more adult than her character in the cartoon, mostly because she has much more hair, nearly reaching the curve of her ass on a good day. She’d never let it cover one of her best assets.

“Oh my gosh, you two look so fucking good!” She squeals, jumping in place. The guys at the party are going to love this look on her because even you can’t stop staring at the way her breasts jiggle with her joy. That pushup bra is doing wonders for her already perky tits, and you’re going to have to ask her where she got it because you need to order one as soon as possible.

“You look amazing, Mor,” you compliment, pushing to your feet. You wobble a little but manage to gain your balance quickly enough. You take a tentative step towards the counter where you left your pre-party drink.

“I know,” Mor grins, flipping one of her pigtails over her shoulder. Her brown eyes sparkle with pride and a little bit of tequila. “We’re killing these costumes.” She walks in her boots like she was born in them. She flicks at Gwyn’s fake bangs with a snicker. “Gwynie, you look hot.”

Gwyn’s cheeks turn as red as her hair. “Thanks,” she shrugs bashfully. “But do we have to go to the hockey house tonight? I heard it’s going to be bumping at Rita’s tonight.”

You wonder if Mor is going to ask what the both of you have been dying to know since Gwyn’s sour reaction the first time hockey was ever mentioned under this roof. You don’t know what kind of beef she has with the sport, or maybe one of the players, but she’s made it more than known on multiple occasions that the topic is taboo, and she’ll never attend anything that has the slightest correlation to hockey.

Your gaze flicks to Mor. Her brows are furrowed and she’s not normally one to give pause, opting to blurt out whatever comes to mind, but right now she’s giving Gwyn the benefit of the doubt and thinking through her options here.

In the end, she goes for pouting, because she knows that neither of you can resist. “But you promised you’d come!”

You don’t know how Mor made that happen, let alone Gwyn promising to join, and you really want to know. Gwyn sighs in a defeated way that makes you ache for her. It’s hard to get her to come out to a non-hockey related event this semester, and that’s also something you’re going to have to talk to her about sometime because you miss your friend on nights out.

Maybe you can stay in one weekend with her, too.

“I know, I know,” Gwyn says, pouring a shot of vodka into a cup. She slams it back and you can see the way that she’s working through the battery acid-like taste, the way she builds herself up before she continues. “Let’s go.”

“You ready?” James asks, trying to smother his amusement. You’re hardly even touching him as you dance together, and yet you can still feel Rhys’ harsh glare from the center of the makeshift living room dancefloor.

“Not a chance,” you respond, and your palms are damp just thinking about it.

“Good, because here he comes,” he warns, right before you’re ripped away from him.

Rhys stands like a raging bull, complete with nostrils flaring, and you’re pretty sure he’s digging his foot into the ground like he’s about to charge. You can’t help but to giggle at his antics, and you can’t wait to see how this plays out.

James swallows harshly, all of the amusement washes from his face as he pales. He’s still too green on the team to really know Rhys all that well, and right now, he’s regretting deciding to tease his captain, even if it is for the greater good.

You and your classmate had come to an agreement. Your roommates didn’t question you when James appeared at your side with a shot in hand and a question to dance. In fact, they all but shoved you into his arms, giggling and whispering to each other before you’d even had the chance to turn around.

They’re somewhere around here, and hopefully, they’re not close enough to watch how this plays out.

He raises his hands in surrender. “Hey, cap.”

“James,” Rhys grits. He looks like an avenging angel, except that he’s dressed as a vampire. You can’t tell if the cape tied around his neck is sexy or not, but his white button down that shows off the top of his chest most definitely is.

It’s offset by the plastic fangs poking out from his lips is most definitely cuter than anything.

Everything you notice about him is a confusing jumble.

“How are you enjoying the party?” James all but squeaks, and you bite your lip to keep from laughing. You feel kind of bad for your new friend, putting himself in the line of fire like this, but as soon as your bargain falls into place with Rhys, you’re going to try your best to make it worthwhile for James.

“Scram kid, before I make you do laps the entire next practice,” Rhys grunts and you can’t control yourself, you burst into laughter.

Rhys turns towards you, confused. You straighten, wiping pretend tears from your face. “I’m sorry, did you just fucking say scram?”

“So, what if I did?” Rhys asks, and he’s clearly enjoying that smile he’s put on your face. His chest puffs with pride, but he pouts and your grin widens.

“I just didn’t know we time-traveled back to the 1900’s.”

Rhys makes a face at you that is all too endearing. He pokes you on the arm and you jerk away before retaliating.

“Hey!” You whine when he traps your wrists in one large hand, poking you in the sides with the other. The way you’re squirming makes him wonder if you’d be moving like that in his bed. He immediately releases you and you straighten your dress, feeling the shift in the atmosphere. “I’m, uh, going to get a drink,” you mutter. Finding the roommates you’d abandoned might be helpful as well.

Just as you’re about to spin on your heel, Rhys’ groan of agony stops you.

“What the fuck is she doing here?” He curses, and his entire playboy protective captain aura goes up in flames. Now he’s a frustrated, annoyed boy whose clingy ex won’t take a fucking hint.

“Who?” You question, rolling cautiously onto your tiptoes to try and see who Rhys is talking about. You can’t see a damn thing in the darkness of the house. You’re not even sure where your own roommates are.

“Amarantha,” Rhys sighs, then, more frantic. “Fuck, we made eye contact. Hold my hand.”

You hide your excitement. This is perfect. Not planned, by any means, because you’re not evil, but it will further your plans. Just after you play with Rhysand a little bit longer. “What? No way!”

Rhys shoots you a dry look. “Jesus, (Y/N), don’t spare my feelings, or anything.”

“Sorry,” you grin, sheepishly.

“Please,” he begs, and you try not to let it show how much him pleading affects you. You thought you were hot before, but now you’re fucking dripping. “I’ll do anything.”

You try not to let your mind wander into what anything could mean. Maybe you need another drink to cool yourself down, or make your mind a little more imaginative.

Rhys’ gaze flicks worriedly to where his ex is stalking your way with a purpose.

Right, back on track.

“Fine,” you hiss, mostly because you can’t stand those sad eyes he’s giving you. You know it’s a ploy, but if it gets him to stop pestering you, you’ll do it. Plus, if Rhys sees that you’re willing to play his little game, it’ll be much easier to bring up the internship you want with the team. “Put your arm around me.”

He does much more than that. Rhys throws his arm over your shoulder and pulls you into his side. You jump at the warmth and ignore the look of confusion he shoots you.

“If you don’t put your hands on me, she’s not going to believe that you’re my girlfriend.”

“And why is that?” you mutter, scouring the crowd for his ex-girlfriend. She shouldn’t be so hard to find with her bright hair and menacing presence, but there’s no sign of her yet, even with your sky-high heels on.

“Because, you’re supposed to be my girlfriend,” Rhys growls, but his unhappiness isn’t directed at you. His violet eyes dark with violence. He looks like he could still hunt James down and strangle him just for dancing with you.

“But I’m not, really,” you counter, trying to keep up your withering façade. Truth is, you’ve done exactly what you set out to do, prove to Rhys that his rules mean nothing to you and that you’re never going to be one of those girls who lets a man tell her what to do.

When you step closer to Rhys to better berate him over the loud music, you barely notice James slinking back into the crowd. He uses you as a distraction for his captain, just like the both of you planned.

“But you are,” Rhys hisses, and you refuse to like the way your body reacts to his words. His arm is a warm weight around your arm as he guides you in the direction of the living room. In the threshold, he stops you, and you’re not sure what you’re supposed to be focusing on when his front is pressed up against your back like this and there’s a hardness pressing against you that you’d never be able to ignore.

“When she’s around,” Rhys starts, and his breath against your ear makes it difficult not to shiver. He nods toward the crowd, right to where his ex is oblivious, dancing with her friends. She’s dressed as some kind of sexy witch, which is fitting, since you’ve met her and know her attitude is worse than nice. “You’re all mine, (Y/N). If I want your hands all over me, you’ll do it. If I want to kiss you, you won’t pull away,” you clutch the drink in your hand tighter, and your thighs mirror the motion. “And if we get a little carried away…” he trails off. His hands resting on your hips curve around your front. You can feel him like a brand through the thin fabric of your dress. Your breath hitches in your throat and you can’t help but to lean further into him. “Well, I won’t tell anyone if you won’t.”

You glare, but he’s right. The only reason you’re so vehemently against this idea is because Mor could catch you at any second.

“Fine. But I need your help with something in exchange.” It hurts you to admit it, but James said that there wasn’t much he could do to guarantee you an internship with the team, and you can admit that it would look really good on your applications to say that you aided in athletic training for Vulcan U’s hockey team.

Too bad you know exactly who does hold sway with their coach, and he’s also your tutor.

And an arrogant asshole.

“Oh?” He quirks a cocky brow and you regret asking him immediately. You don’t like that spark of intrigue in his eyes. “Now I have something that you want?”

You grit your teeth and shove at his chest. His hands don’t move from around your waist, keeping you pressed tightly against his body. To the other partygoers, you pushing at him might look playful, and, reading the smug smile on Rhys’ face, he thinks the same.

“Yes,” you admit, shoulders dropping. You don’t know why you’re finding it so difficult to look at those sparkling violet eyes of his, but you drag your gaze across the party, taking in the different costumes and couples gyrating in the middle of his living room. Rhys allows you to find you words, and when you return your eyes to his, you find him staring down at you with a soft look on his face.

“I was speaking with James,” you start, and his grip tightens on your hips. Rhys’ mouth flattens and his eyes sharpen, jerking from yours to scour the crowd for his teammate. “Hey,” you swat at his arm, gaining his attention. “I didn’t think you needed the reminder that I can speak to who I want.”

“And I didn’t think you needed the reminder that you can’t put moves on any of my players,” Rhys says, leaning down to growl in your ear. His lips brush the shell of your ear, sending a shiver up your spine, and your fingers tighten in his shirt. Hopefully he reads it as your annoyance and not because you don’t trust how wobbly your knees have just become. “Except for me, because I have a feeling that we’re about to make a deal. Isn’t that right, (Y/N)?”

You lean away from him, just enough to meet his eyes again. They’re as intense as they are playful, and when his thumb strokes your hip, you all but cave.

“A deal?” You echo, because they’re the only words in your vocabulary that haven’t disappeared from your mind.

Rhysand’s lips tug into the biggest self-fucking-satisfied smile you’ve ever seen, and that’s when you realize that your gaze has wandered down to his perfect, kissable lips.

You shove against his chest again and this time he relents, allowing a few inches of space between you. It’s barely enough, though. Every exhale has your chests brushing, but you manage to wedge your arms into the space and cross them over your chest.

You definitely don’t miss the way Rhys’ eyes flick down to your breasts that you’re conveniently pushing up for his viewing pleasure.

“What do you want, darling?” He purrs, and damn him for being so fucking sexy. And the fact that he’s dressed as a vampire…gods, he’s every woman’s wet dream. “Do you want my hands?” He drags his palms across your hips and it feels like there’s no fabric between his hands and your skin at all. “Do you want my brains?” He waggles his eyebrows, grinning when you break into a smile against your will. Rhys leans in closer, too close. You can’t breathe. “Or my blood?”

You squeal when he latches himself to your neck. The plastic vampire teeth poke into your skin but all you can focus on is his lips on your skin, the way you’re about to fucking combust—

“Incoming,” a voice shouts and Rhys rips himself away from you. He winces as soon as he straightens and sees his roommates charging toward the both of you with drinks in their hands. Thankfully, Cassian and Azriel haven’t seem to have noticed whatever was just happening between you and Rhysand, which is good, because you don’t know what the hell that was, either.

You don’t even have the time to think about it because the hockey players are infiltrating your space, and you lose your breath at the sight of them.

Azriel’s dressed as Nightwing. You thought Rhys was every woman’s wet dream, but Azriel, Azriel is wet dream fuel. His black hair hangs across his forehead. A black eye mask covers most of his face, but it’s the skin-tight pleather bodysuit that really does the costume in. There’s a blue bird with its wings expanded across his chest, and the costume does nothing to hide how muscular he is.

You wonder who the hell got him into that costume, and if they’re even still alive because the look on his face is set so harsh that a single glance might just make you drop dead.

Or your panties drop.

Rhysand coughs and nudges you in the shoulder, snapping you from your trance. He’s frowning down at you in disapproval, and it takes little effort to grin back up at him, annoying him further. If he really didn’t think you wanted to fall into bed with any of his teammates, he’s sure thinking it now.

And he doesn’t like that one fucking bit.

Cassian’s costume is some sort of sexy chef, sans shirt, but he dons an apron that reads, ‘this guy rubs his own meat’ with an arrow pointing south. He has a chef’s hat on and is carrying a spatula that you know can only spell out trouble, and you barely even know the guy.

Mor and Gwyn plow into the circle as well. Mor slips between you and Rhys first, and it’s really for the best, but you’re already missing his warmth, despite the mugginess in the air. He shoots you a look that tells you you’ll be finishing your conversation later and you nod softly, loosening your shoulders and focusing on the conversation at hand.

Gwyn follows, so she’s wedged between you and Mor. She looks entirely uncomfortable here, eyes downcast to the floor, avoiding any and all eye contact. Her fingers are white-knuckled around her solo cup and you worry that she might crack the thing any second, so you silently wind your arm with hers and give her a reassuring smile that she can barely return.

You think you need to get her home soon. She’s clearly not having any fun at all, and Mor’s too busy taking over the conversation to notice.

“We need to play a game, or something,” she whines to her cousin, who rolls his eyes in response. For whatever reason, Rhy is not impressed with the idea, most likely because all of the games his cousin likes to play at parties involve touching or secrets or kissing…or drinking so much that he doesn’t remember what happened and wakes up regretting his entire existence the morning following.

What Rhys wouldn’t mind would be actually kissing you, and if he indulges his cousin, she can’t be mad should fate pair you and him together for an innocent kiss. He wants to know if you taste just as sweet as you smell, because the nip to your neck was nowhere near enough.

The only problem is, his ex is lingering around his house somewhere. He can’t join the game lest she join or, even worse, out you as his fake girlfriend in front of Mor who made it more than clear that you are completely off limits to him.

It only makes him want you that much more.

“Okay,” he answers, and your head snaps to his in surprise. “Let’s play a game.”

_________________________________________

Over Ice Taglist:

@saltedcoffeescotch @acourtofbatboydreams @mrsjna @velarisdusk @bionic-donut @tenshis-cake @eleganttravelercloud @lilah-asteria @serena05 @bwormie @soph1644 @house-husband-of-castlemurdock @tothestarsandwhateverend @topaz125 @judig92 @se7enteen--black-blog @thecraziestcrayon @cherry-cin @itsinherited @justafictionalnerd @bookishbroadwaybish @405rry @itsinherited

[satellite-evans]

Not my baby

Pairing : Harry Styles x reader

Summary: Harry comes back home with the wrong kid :)

Warning: tiny angst, happy ending, sleep deprived parents

Word count: 2.3k

A/N:

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, recommendations, vents or questions are always welcome. I love talking to you guys about anything <3

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

Harry had never truly understood what it meant to be a parent. He loved his family, of course—he adored his wife, Y/N, and now he found himself utterly smitten with their newborn daughter, Willow. But the reality of sleepless nights, endless feedings, and the whirlwind of emotions that came with being parents was something Harry had never fully grasped until now. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen his friends with their children or heard the stories from other parents. But nothing, absolutely nothing, could have prepared him for how deeply the exhaustion would seep into every part of his being. And the exhaustion wasn’t just his. Y/N had been the one to endure the brunt of it, her body adjusting to the demands of both breastfeeding and the round-the-clock needs of their infant.

It had been nearly three weeks since Willow was born, and although Harry had tried to help in every way he could—holding Willow while she napped, soothing her when she cried, and trying to take on household chores—he knew that Y/N had it the hardest. She was the one that had carried Willow for nine months, the one who had brought her into the world, and now, she was the one who was still waking up every two to three hours to nurse, then trying to sneak in some rest during the day when Willow took her naps.

Despite the weariness that clung to her every movement, Y/N had a glow in her eyes whenever she looked at Willow. That love—the undeniable bond between mother and child—shone brightly even through the tiredness. Harry admired her for it, but he could see that she was starting to run on empty. He could feel it in her sighs, the way she held her head a little lower, and how she kept rubbing her tired eyes like they could somehow erase the exhaustion.

Harry knew he couldn’t take away the sleepless nights or the emotional toll, but today, he was determined to do something to help her. Just a little. A few hours of uninterrupted rest. That’s all he wanted to give her.

It was mid-morning, and Y/N had finally managed to doze off on the couch after nursing Willow and settling her back into her bassinet. She had been awake for hours, trying to comfort Willow, who had been fussy from teething. Harry saw how her eyes fluttered shut as soon as her body hit the cushions, and he knew that was his chance.

He tiptoed into the living room, making sure not to disturb her. He’d thought long and hard about how to make this work. There was no way he could bring Willow into the other room and make noise. But he could give Y/N some time to sleep if he took Willow out for a little walk. The fresh air would be good for both of them. Harry figured a quick stroll to the park would do the trick. Just a few hours. He’d be back before she even noticed.

He glanced at Willow, still peacefully asleep in her bassinet. He smiled softly, heart swelling with love. He picked her up gently, cradling her as though she were the most precious thing in the world. She was so tiny, so perfect. She had a tuft of dark hair on top of her head and a soft, little face that made Harry’s heart ache with joy. He placed her carefully into the stroller, making sure she was comfortable and snug with a soft pink blanket tucked around her.

The stroller was simple—black and white, sleek and modern. (Y/N) had picked it out before Willow was born, and Harry had made sure it was ready for the day they brought their daughter home. He adjusted the straps around Willow’s tiny body and double-checked the wheels, giving them a quick spin. Once he was satisfied, he crept into the kitchen and made himself a cup of coffee, sitting at the table to quietly sip it before heading out. He didn’t want to wake (Y/N).

For a moment, Harry allowed himself a deep breath. He was still reeling from the intensity of fatherhood. It was overwhelming at times, especially with the lack of sleep. He thought about how this experience had shifted his entire perspective on life, on love, on what truly mattered. (Y/N) was everything to him, and Willow... Willow was their miracle.

After a few more minutes of silence, Harry decided it was time. He grabbed his jacket, slipped on his shoes, and with one final glance at Y/N, he left the house.

The air outside was crisp, a soft breeze rustling the leaves in the trees. Harry loved the quiet of the neighborhood during the day, the calm before life got busy again. He pushed the stroller slowly, savoring the peaceful moments as he made his way to the nearby park. Willow was still asleep, and Harry let himself relax for the first time all morning. There was something so serene about these early mornings—the silence, the fresh air, the gentle hum of life around him.

Harry hummed quietly, looking down at Willow. He reached down and gently stroked her hair, his voice soft and comforting.

“Alright, love. We’re off on an adventure, just you and me,” Harry whispered, smiling as Willow’s tiny face stayed relaxed, oblivious to his words. “I’ll make sure you’re as tired as I am by the time we get home. I know you’re sleepy now, but we’ll get some fresh air, won’t we?”

Harry continued walking, his thoughts drifting as he pushed the stroller down the sidewalk. “Your mum’s going to love this. A few hours of quiet for her—she deserves it more than anyone.”

As Harry approached the park, he noticed the familiar sight of other parents with their children. Some were chatting, some were on their phones, while others simply sat in silence, enjoying the break from the whirlwind of home life. Harry guided the stroller to a bench and sat down, looking out at the peaceful surroundings.

He watched Willow’s chest rise and fall gently in her sleep, her tiny hands curled into fists. It was hard to fathom how quickly she’d grown in just a few weeks. Harry knew he couldn’t wait to see her first steps, hear her first word. But for now, he was content to just be with her in this quiet moment.

Not long after, another man arrived at the bench nearby, pushing an identical stroller. Harry glanced over, raising an eyebrow at the coincidence.

“Hey there,” the man greeted, settling onto the bench next to Harry. “Nice day for a walk, huh?”

Harry smiled, glad to see someone else enjoying the peace and quiet. “Yeah, it’s beautiful out. My first time out with her,” he said, gesturing to Willow. “Trying to give my wife a break. She’s been—well, you know.”

The man nodded knowingly. “I get it. It’s tough, isn’t it? My daughter’s a handful, and I’ve been trying to get a break too. But, you know, they’re worth it.” He chuckled softly, glancing down at his stroller. “I’m just trying to let her nap for a bit.”

Harry laughed, nodding in agreement. “I hear you. Same here. She’s been pretty calm though, so I think I’m lucky so far.”

They both fell into a comfortable silence for a moment, the kind of quiet that only new parents seemed to understand. Harry watched the man’s daughter playing in the distance, toddling toward a group of other kids. He smiled, feeling a little sense of camaraderie in the shared exhaustion of parenthood.

Harry’s eyes drifted back to the stroller beside him. He noticed the other man’s baby had a soft pink blanket just like Willow’s, and for a split second, Harry didn’t think twice. He stood up, yawning as he stretched his back.

“Alright, kiddo,” he murmured to Willow, who was still asleep. “Time to head home.”

The man had stepped away for a moment, leaving his stroller unattended. Without thinking, Harry grabbed it, instinctively pushing it toward the park entrance.

When Harry finally returned, he was beaming. He had given Willow the quiet afternoon she deserved, and now, he was looking forward to seeing Y/N wake up, refreshed and happy.

He quietly unlocked the door, stepping into the house with the stroller in tow. Y/N was still fast asleep on the couch, her chest rising and falling gently. Harry smiled to himself, knowing that soon, she would get a break.

He tiptoed over to her, setting the stroller down beside the couch and gently pulling back the blanket to reveal the baby. But when Y/N blinked her eyes open and took in the sight of the child in the stroller, her blood ran cold.

“Harry, what the hell... is this?” Her voice cracked with panic.

Harry froze. “What?”

“That’s... not Willow!” Y/N’s eyes grew wide with disbelief. She sat up so quickly that she nearly knocked the stroller over.

“What do you mean?” Harry frowned, peering into the stroller.

Y/N was practically shaking now. Her fingers trembled, gripping the edge of the couch. “That’s not our baby! That’s someone else’s child! Where is Willow?!” Her voice pitched higher, bordering on hysteria.

Harry’s heart raced. His thoughts scattered. He stepped back, his mind running through a thousand thoughts in an instant. He glanced from the baby in the stroller to Y/N, and then it dawned on him—he had made a mistake. A huge mistake.

“No... no way... no, I—” His voice trailed off as his own panic set in.

“Harry, you took someone else’s baby!” Y/N’s voice went from frantic to full-on hysteria. She was trembling now, her entire body shaking from the weight of the realization. “Oh my God, you took the wrong kid!”

“I didn’t mean to!” Harry tried to explain, his brain struggling to catch up with the sheer magnitude of the error. “I swear, I thought—”

Y/N wasn’t listening. Her breath was coming in short, panicked gasps. Her hands shook violently as she pulled out her phone to dial the police. But when she saw her fingers trembling uncontrollably, the numbers on the screen blurred. She could barely focus. Her vision blurred with tears of terror.

“Come on, come on,” she muttered, hands shaking so violently that the phone nearly slipped from her grasp. She tried again, but her hands wouldn’t stop trembling. “Why can’t I dial? I—I can’t breathe!” Her voice broke.

“Don’t call the police!” Harry begged, his voice cracking. “Please, just let me explain. I’ll fix this—just let me fix this.”

Y/N couldn’t focus on anything other than the feeling of utter dread. “You don’t understand,” she gasped. “We need to find Willow. We need to find her now.”

Her trembling hands hovered over the phone, but before she could dial the number, the doorbell rang, sharp and sudden. Harry’s heart stopped. He rushed to open the door, his stomach flipping with anxiety. And standing there, holding Willow in his arms, was the man her met at the park whose expression mirrored his own terror.

“That’s my daughter!” the man snapped, seeing the baby in Y/N's arms, his voice full of frustration. “What kind of person takes another child's baby?!”

Harry stood there, stunned. His eyes darted from the angry man to Willow in his arms and back to Y/N, who was now crying from a mixture of relief and rage.

“Sorry,” Harry mumbled, barely able to find his voice. “I thought she was mine.”

The other father glared at him, his irritation palpable. “Yeah? Well, next time, keep track of your kid!”

As the situation settled, both parents not only exchanged the babies, but they also exchanged apologies. The tension in the room was still thick. Willow was safe, and the other baby was safe, but the mix-up was enough to send both families into a temporary panic.

When everything was finally sorted, Harry stood in the living room, staring at Y/N, who was still shaking from the ordeal but still hugging Willow close to her chest, who had no idea what happened. She walked over to him; her face a mixture of anger, exhaustion, and relief.

“Harry,” she began, her voice low but firm. “No more surprise walks. No more ‘I’m just trying to help’ crap. You scared me half to death!”

Harry looked down at the floor, feeling the weight of his mistake. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I was just trying to help you get some rest.”

Y/N softened just slightly, placing a hand on his chest. “I know, love. I know. But next time, double-check the stroller, okay?”

Harry nodded, his heart still racing. “I swear, never again.”

And with that, they both took a deep breath. The chaos was over, but it would be a long while before they forgot the walk that went terribly wrong.

[yes-divine-ruler]

Hi just wanted to say I absoloutely adore your blog, you are so talented!

I was wondering if you could perhaps do prompt no.25 with Kai.

Thank you so much.

love u tysm !!!! <3 I’m blushin like crazy 🤭🥹

Kai Anderson Smut Drabble

Prompt 25: “First one to cum is a loser”

Kai pounds into you mercilessly from above you, tucked between your shaking thighs with sweat dripping from his forehead. His eyes are squeezed shut and his jaw goes slack as he feels the pulse of your walls around his sensitive cock.

“Don’t stop, oh my god, just like that!” You’re withering away beneath him, clutching onto his bare shoulders with your fingers dug into his pale skin.

“I could do this all day sweetheart,” Kai brings his face to yours and kisses your lips, “don’t forget, first one to cum is a loser.”

You didn’t know how long you could last. The tip of Kai’s cock brushed against that spongey spot inside you time and time again, the lewd squelching sounds of your cunt only a small indicator that you were close.

“Kai! That’s not- that’s not fair,” you gasp as Kai places his wet fingers over your clit, applying pressure and circling your arousal around the sensitive bud.

He lets out a dark chuckle, slowing his movements for only a second. It was still enough time for you to switch your positions, using your legs to flip yourself over. Now sitting on top, you could control the situation much better.

Kai’s big hands plant firmly on your hips.

“Smart little girl, aren’t you?” One of his hands travel up the side of your body until his fingers are sensually pinching your nipple.

“First one to cum is a loser,” you mock Kai in a whisper, trailing kisses down the stubble on his jaw as you begin to move your hips.

“Fuck,” Kai groans, guiding your hips with his hands as you rise and fall on his cock, the swell of your tits bouncing every-time you’d slam yourself down onto him.

You lay with your chest flush with Kai’s, your arms tucked beneath his head as you bury your face in his neck, biting down on your lip and trying not to let go.

Your slick was trickling down Kai’s cock and making a mess on his thighs. Kai’s breathing picked up pace, heavily panting with every movement you’d make. You’d almost had him, until his hands forced your hips down onto his cock as far as they would go, and his tip nudges against your cervix.

You scream, trying your hardest to lift yourself up and away from his bruising force.

“It’s not that easy,” Kai coos, flipping you over once more so you’re on your back, “I always win.”

Kai drives himself deep into you, your legs now folded up to your chest. You’re spread out for him just the way he likes it, giving him access to your poor, swollen clit.

“No! Nonono!” You whine, finding it futile to cry and move away.

“I know you wanna cum doll, just let go,” Kai torments you, watching his cock slide in and out of you and his thumb brush against your sensitive bundle of nerves.

“I almost- had you- oh fuck! Kai-“

“That’s it baby, cum on my cock,”

Ready to accept your losing title , you finally let go, not being able to contain your moans as the unbearably tight, hot coil in your abdomen snaps, and a tingling heat spreads across your body.

“Oh fuck, that’s my girl,” Kai takes his time to thrust in and out of you, the creaminess of your release coating his cock and making everything ten times more sensitive.

“Who’s my little loser? Told you I’d win,” Kai teases you, before he can finally stop edging himself and release himself inside you.

“Shut up,” you grumble, your eyes heavy from being so fucked out. You barely register what’s going on before he’s cumming, using your weak and sore body at his disposal.

“Feels so good to win,” Kai whispers against your lips, capturing them in a soft kiss before he’s pulling out of you, letting his cum run down your sopping cunt and stain the sheets beneath you.

[strawburry01]

Life in Technicolor

Ford Pines x Fem! Reader

Summary: After the two of you were stuck on opposite sides of the space time continuum for 30 years- how do you go back to normal?

A bunch of little blurbs because people ate that up last time and it's fun-er to write rn :)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 2.5

Part 3

Part 4

Meeting Mabel and Dipper was truly one of the best things that you'd ever experienced. You loved helping Mabel with her endless crafts and hearing all her boy problems (which was a shocking amount and also of shocking severity). You also loved helping Dipper with his research of Gravity Falls under Stan's nose of course. He'd kept your room of video tapes under lock, so when you finally convinced him to open it ("it is MY stuff Stan"), Dipper was on Cloud 9 going through all of your recordings. Most of them were trashed unfortunately after years of dust and sitting, but a few of them actually ran back and played, which excited you both.

One morning you went to the Gravity Falls farmers market only to feel the intense scrutiny of everyone's eyes on you until Susan, still the waitress at the pancake place questioned where you had been for the past couple decades. "Um, vacation?" you had sheepishly answered. It seemed to somehow work.

Mabel, Dipper, and Soos took it upon themselves to catch Ford and you up on all the worldwide events you'd missed. Ford was distraught over Princess Diana's death.

While Ford was often stuck in the basement working on his devices and journals, you liked to stay in the gift shop and help at the register, working on writing down all your time over the past years between customer checking out. Wendy thought you were pretty cool for doing it.

You caught Soos once trying to Sharpie on a similar heart under his own eye once. You slowly closed the door despite not breaking eye contact with him. Neither of you ever brought it up.

Ford and you went stargazing most nights on top of the shack. Stan did do a pretty good job installing a dubious, but stable-ish, balcony.

Stan and you were a little awkward at first, as he didn't know if you'd share his brother's attitude towards him or not. You couldn't handle it anymore and ended up buying him a 6 pack of shitty beer and driving the golf cart in donuts outside in the parking lot until you were both doubled over.

Ford and you held another wedding ceremony. A more proper one this time. Dipper was the ring bearer, with Mabel being the flower girl. She unfortunately picked some of a carnivorous variety that started biting their ankles soon after exchanging "I do's".

Mabel took you and Ford out to try and update your wardrobes since everything was stuck in the 80's. Ford blushed every time you stepped out of the dressing room.

Stan tripped you (accidentally) into the Bottomless Pit and Ford nearly killed him on the spot.

You got dragged into supervising the girls on their quest to get unicorn hair and nearly threw out your back while throwing punches at those bratty horses.

Being old in this world was the hardest thing, but you were glad Ford was there to commiserate with. When you had been here last as spry 30 something year olds and were flung back as 60 something year olds. Most night's you'd stare at yourself in the mirror after brushing your teeth until Ford would get up from bed and wrap his arms around your waist and look into the mirror with you. "Still beautiful" he'd mumble as he'd kiss your shoulder. It wasn't that though. Sometimes you just couldn't recognize yourself. You were supposed to have watched the both of you grow older in this house. Not blast back here after decades apart.

"Do you ever feel like we missed out on all those years?" you'd ask Ford one day. "Perhaps. But all we can do is focus on the future at this point, and at least we have that," he'd answer.

Taglist wooooo:

@valinbean

@sunniskyies

@fries11

@fluffymarshmalllows

[sugar-coat-it]

Body piercer! Matty

Part 2 , Part 3

May I present my pride and joy (and first AU), body piercer Matty <3, based on the 2020 NOACF mohawk era

Fem! reader

****CW! Needles, pain****

Contains: Matty piercing reader’s nipples*, lustful fantasies, praise, Matty has a tongue piercing, HELLA tension and pining, Matty being a sweetheart through the whole thing

*note, I don’t have nipple piercings lol, apologies if any of this is inaccurate.

Word count: 5313

—------------------------------------------

PART ONE- Fate lands you in Matty Healy’s capable hands when looking to get your nipples pierced. Tension ensues.

—-----------------------------------------

The thought of getting your nipples pierced had been in the back of your mind for what felt like years. It nagged at you every time you saw a pretty girl with barbells poking out under her tank top, you wanted to be her. You’d done all the research, article after article on the healing period, the pain level, and the kinds of jewelry you can get. You also knew fairly well how they enhance sexual encounters, which had a whole draw of its own. You’d done everything except actually make the appointment. That is, up until a few days ago. Fresh off of a breakup and tired of feeling sorry for yourself, you’d called your local tattoo parlor and scheduled a slot with a body piercer named Maddie, then hung up feeling rather pleased with yourself for finally getting it done. The anticipation of the leadup to the appointment had you biting your lips raw. You’d gotten other piercings before, but never in a place so intimate. Never one that required taking your top off, that’s for certain. But friends had been encouraging you nonstop, telling you what a “hot girl” move it was, and who were you to argue? 

Finally, the day comes, and you’re swinging open the parlor door a little too hard, evidently very tense. The bell that jangles when the door opens clanks against the wall, making the man behind the counter startle. Wide-eyed and wincing, you shoot him an apologetic look, embarrassed that you’d practically ripped their front door off the hinge. Great start!

Slowly, after making sure the door is safely shut, you approach the counter, absentmindedly toying with the rings that adorn your fingers, twisting them between your thumb and your forefinger. The man at the counter is exactly who you’d expect to be working at a tattoo and piercing parlor, but an even more stunning rendition if you were being honest. His slightly sleepy-looking eyes brighten a little at the sight of you, a fluffy mohawk of chocolatey waves sitting atop his head. He’s adorned with inked patterns along his skin, a patchwork of symbols across his arms that you restrict yourself to only glancing at for a moment. His eyes crinkle at the edges when he greets you with a warm smile, offering a little wave before you start to explain why you’re here, your voice uncharacteristically high-pitched.

“Hi, I’ve got a 1:00 appointment?” you explain before providing your name, trying your hardest to stop fidgeting.

Your mind is in about 20 places, and it doesn’t help that your heart just fluttered at the eye contact he’s holding with you. The man nods at you, a low hum rumbling in his chest as he picks up the scheduling book, sifting through the pages with black polished nails. When he turns his head, you catch a glimpse of the single silver hoop earring that he’s sporting quite well. Curiosity creeps up like a slinking cat, making you wonder what other modifications he might have. His narrowed eyes scan the book, toffee-colored irises flicking over names until he finds yours penciled in, jabbing his nail against the page.

“Yeah I see you, you’re with me then. And, you did your paperwork and payment stuff, it looks like,” he says, snapping the schedule closed definitively.

“Oh, no I don’t think…” you start to correct, tilting your head at him with confusion until you trail off into quiet.

 That’s when it catches your eye, the nametag on his white tank top reads “Matty”. Then it clicks. Matty. Not Maddie. You’d scheduled your appointment to get your tits pierced with a guy. A very attractive guy that was now going to watch you squirm like a child. Your jaw drops slightly, a sinking feeling in your gut starting to fester as you realize your mistake.

“Everything alright there? Second thoughts, perhaps?” Matty prompts, raising an inquisitive eyebrow at you. 

“No… no second thoughts. To be honest, I thought I had an appointment with a female piercer,” you answer, preemptively grimacing before you’d even finished your sentence.

“Oh, shit. Well, that’s not ideal. Listen, we can get you in here another day then, no problem. Tell me what works for you,” he says, already scrambling for a pencil to put your name elsewhere in the book. 

“Actually, I think it’s fine. I’m already here, right?” you offer, shrugging to try and appear more nonchalant about the whole thing (your palms are sweating).

“Are you sure? Seriously, I don’t want you uncomfortable on my watch. It’s not a big deal to get you a different appointment,” he frowns, absentmindedly twirling the pencil between his fingers. 

His eyes are strangely soft for someone with such an intimidating job, you can only describe the feeling they give you as melting. You can’t quite place why, but his presence alone is somehow quelling your nerves, even if it’s just a bit. Your hands start to still, dropping to rest at your sides as you decide to let him do it anyway. He looks trustworthy, right? 

“Yeah, I’m sure. But thank you, truly,” you say, a soft smile pulling at your lips at how keen he seems on making you comfortable. 

Matty nods slowly, rising from the chair while eyeing you like he’s not sure if you’re going to turn on your heel and run out the door if he looks away. He asks you to follow him to the back, you’re trailing close behind as he pulls his baggy camo pants further up his hips by his belt. The room he leads you to is small and fairly chilly, but only in temperature. The space itself feels homey, plastered with stickers and posters of various punk bands, it doesn’t feel like some sterile hospital room. 

“Stay standin’ for me, just need to get some things,” he instructs, turning to reach for his supplies, including the jewelry you’d selected over the phone, “and, whenever you’re ready you can take your top off, okay?” 

Without the pressure of his eyes on you, it takes a moment before you slowly ease your shirt up and over your shoulders, setting it beside you. You take a slightly uneven breath as you reach to fumble with the clasp of your bra, suddenly forgetting the muscle memory from doing it for so many years. The moment it’s off, the rush of cold air instantly sends a shiver licking up your spine. You lean back against the counter, trying to appear as casual as you can as you eye the piercer. Your eyebrows slope with admiration, softening your expression as you realize that he’s now aimlessly fishing through a drawer, trying to give you time to ease into undressing while he’s still turned around. He stays with his back to you until you clear your throat, signaling that you’ve finished. His expression is unphased as he turns around on the heels of his platformed lace-up boots. God, he really is beyond cool, isn’t he? 

“Right, I’m gonna put these on, and then I’ll mark the placement,” Matty explains, holding up a pair of latex gloves. 

Matty pulls the gloves over his sizeable hands, the bulging veins catching your eye as he flexes his fingers to test that they’re taught. He’s taking a few steps closer to you, now only about an arm's length away as he explains that he’s not going to touch you without the gloves, though of course, your first unfiltered thought is that you wish he would. His eyes hadn’t strayed from your face for even a second this whole time, being remarkably neutral despite the fact that you were topless. Though, you suppose that sort of thing must not phase him since he’s probably pierced tons of nipples. That doesn’t stop the odd tinge of disappointment that he hadn’t even glanced at your body. You swallow the feeling like it’s bile, knowing that it’s totally unreasonable to want him to gaze at you with anything but professionalism. 

“Is it okay if I put my hands on you? Need to clean the area,” he asks, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort, it’s making you slightly weak in the knees, he’s just so fucking gentle. 

You nod, rolling your shoulders back in preparation for him to touch you while he pours solvent on a cotton pad. His disciplined, gloved hands reach out, and only now does he allow his gaze to dip down to your chest. You could swear his breath hitches just a little, the quiet room allowing for the smallest sounds to be heard. Maybe he is just a man after all. The thought makes pride simmer in your chest, but you’re not dwelling on it for long, your mind going blank the moment he starts to swiftly swipe the pad along your nipples, sanitizing your skin and also effectively making them harden from the stimulation. You tense up, standing straighter than before as you bite back any semblance of a reaction. Matty throws you a glance to assess your discomfort, soft brown irises following the slopes of your features. He places the sanitizing supplies to the side, now uncapping a purple skin marker. This was going to be a long process if he kept looking at you that way.

“Nothing's happening yet, okay? Just gonna draw on where they’re gonna go,” he says, holding it up while raising his eyebrows as if to say “Look, it’s harmless”. 

Matty leans in again, his eyes narrowing with concentration, gloved knuckles brushing the side of your breast as he marks a dot on the side of your nipple. Watching Matty stare at your tits with such laser focus has your cheeks flushing just slightly, heat prickling at the bridge of your nose. He runs the tip of the marker from one side of the hardened bud to the other, marking a symmetrical dot. Tingles spread under your skin like wildfire, he’s barely touched you and yet you can feel yourself buzzing at the slightest sensations. His pretty brown eyes meet yours and he just smiles at you sympathetically, knowing how hyperfocused on his every movement you must be.

“You’re not breathing,” he whispers, playfully jabbing the capped end of the pen against your arm. 

Your eyes widen as you realize that he’s absolutely right, you’d been holding your breath this whole time. You release your bated breath, your chest heaving slightly as Matty keeps looking down at you, giving you a moment to regain your senses. You swear the eye contact while being inches away from him is making you more lightheaded than the lack of oxygen. With a satisfied nod, he resumes, repeating the same process of drawing the dots at the peak of your other breast. Then, he takes a step back, biting the cap of the marker between his canines while he evaluates his work. This allows you another moment to admire him as he eyeballs the symmetricalness of his markings. Your mind is wandering, perhaps trying to distract you from how intently this man is studying your breasts. You’re wondering what it would be like if he wasn’t so gentle with you. What if he touched you instead with greed, the need to satiate himself? In your head, you imagine the warm, honey tones of his eyes darkening like tinted glass as he drinks you in not as his client, but as something to desire, to want to feel flush beneath his calloused fingertips. This version of Matty doesn’t try to limit every graze of his working hands, he’s starving; groping, and mapping every part of your skin that he can reach. You’re jumping the gun now, the image flashes through your mind like a ricocheting bullet: Matty’s got you pressed up against the wall, his hands are mean as he grabs a handful of one of your tits, his thigh is hitched between your legs, keeping your thighs parted. His head dips down, his shaggy mohawk tickling at your neck as he tugs on the silver barbell through your nipple with his teeth, pain melding with pleasure till they’re impossible to separate. And, oh, fuck, does he have a tongue piercing? Your eyes flick down to his mouth now, mind reeling as you spot the silver stud on his tongue revealed by the way he’s chewing on the cap of the marker. You are losing yourself, and fast, but he doesn’t seem to notice. 

“Alright, looks just about even. Would you go ahead and lie down there, darlin’?” he asks, cocking his head towards the reclined padded chair next to him. 

Now is where the nerves are starting to kick in, it’s all fun and fantasizing about your body piercer until you actually have to sit in the chair. You were hardly able to mentally fawn over the pet name as you took unsure strides to situate yourself in the cold, plastic parlor recliner. Matty busies himself with preparing various metal objects while you stare up at the ceiling, squinting at the fluorescent lights and wondering why you wanted your tits pierced so badly in the first place. Then, his unreasonably darling face is in your field of vision, peering down at you with a consoling smile.

“Comfy?” he prompts, a needle in one hand and a small pair of forceps in the other.

It’s not a comforting sight, no matter how lovely the man holding them is. 

“Sorta. I’m actually kind of a chicken about these things,” you admit with a wobbly smile in return.

“No… really?” he grins boyishly, clearly being sarcastic with you. 

You shoot him a look for that, but it melts away into a little laugh, you can’t seem to even fake a cold stare around him, it’s sort of pitiful. Standing over you, Matty raises the forceps close to your breasts but doesn’t touch you with them just yet. You bite your lip, lifting your head to get a better look at what’s happening, even though you’re not entirely sure you even want to watch. 

“Now, this is just going to feel like a little pinch, shouldn’t hurt,” he says, his voice lowering a little before he slips in a: “You’re doing really good.”

The praise tears your gaze away from his hands and onto his face, blinking in disbelief at the way he’d caused a fizzling pang of desire inside you so effortlessly. That feeling doesn’t get any weaker the moment you feel the cool metal clamp around your nipple, your lips parting with a soft gasp, hands tensing with the urge to hold onto something, to hold onto him. Matty’s pierced tongue darts out past his lips in concentration, soothing over his bottom lip as he lines the needle up next to the hardened bud. You jolt at the sharp tip of the object against your sensitive skin, your hand shooting out to grab onto Matty’s bicep in a moment of pure reaction. Both of you seem equally shocked that you’d suddenly clutched his arm, your nails slightly biting into his skin amongst the spattering of pretty freckles that mark him. There’s a moment of the loudest silence you’ve ever heard, his stare feels like it’s searing you. You’re about to rush into apologizing, but then he’s placing his tools back down onto his tray of supplies, tentatively reaching to rest his larger hand over yours, enveloping it in a way that makes your heart skip a beat.

“It’s alright, sweetheart, I’m just lining up my shot. I’m gonna tell you when it’s time, okay? Just breathe with me for a moment,” he reassures, his thumb rubbing tenderly over the back of your hand. 

He takes an exaggerated breath, encouraging you to do the same, his chest rising beneath his white tank top. You mirror Matty, taking a deep breath in of, well… him. He smells like a dizzying combination of Marlboros and woody aftershave because of course, he does.

“That’s it, much better. It’ll be a whole fuckin’ ordeal if you pass out on me, so stay with me here. Can you do that?” he questions, raising his eyebrows at you. 

“Yeah… yeah, I can. Thank you,” you say softly, trying to disregard the sparks radiating under Matty’s palm. 

You stay like this for a few breaths longer, Matty doesn’t look away from you and you’re not so sure that it’s only because he doesn’t want you to conk out. His gloved hand gives yours an encouraging squeeze before letting go slowly. The heat still lingers as he retrieves his tools a second time, the flexing of his bicep under your grasp reminds you that you should probably let go of him now. But, the moment you start to retract your hand, he glances at you and speaks in that silky tone of his.

“You don’t have to let go, s’okay. You can use me like a stress toy, or something. I don’t really care,” he shrugs, winking at you. 

You just nod dumbly, your eyes going a little wider as you settle your hand over his bare arm again, right over the top of his Newcastle United seahorse tattoo. You’d like to use him in other ways too, but that’s not very appropriate, now is it? 

You let out a sigh as you come to the same point in the process again, Matty lining up the needle diligently while keeping your nipple clamped with the metal forceps, but this time, you get to cling to his arm. You don’t want to distract him, because it would be your loss in the end, but there is a sense of satisfaction when you feel his bicep flex slightly as you trace your thumb along the symbol inked on his skin, following the curve of the seahorses mane with your nail. 

“Okay, love. Here’s what’s gonna happen, I’m going to do it on three, and when I say three, I need you to take a sharp breath in for me, like this,” he instructs, then shows you what he means with a harsh inhale through his nose. 

You breathe out a weak “okay”, already gripping his arm harder from the anticipation building up to a high. You decide it’s best not to watch, especially since you’d promised you wouldn’t pass out. You let your head rest back against the chair, your nose scrunching as you squeeze your eyes shut tightly. Matty begins to count down, increasing the pressure of the clamp. 1. 2. 3. You inhale sharply through your nose at the same time that an unprecedented amount of burning pain reverberates through your chest, your eyes snapping open. You’re clawing at his arm, a cry ripping past your lips while tears well up and blur your vision. It’s a feeling so intense that it’s seeping through you to your stomach, crawling like the meanest sunburn. Of all the piercings you’ve gotten, you can say without a doubt that this takes first prize for the most painful.

“Oh, fuck!” you sob, the sound being embarrassingly close to a full-bodied moan. 

Matty slides the jewelry through while swiftly retracting the needle, trying to stifle the way the sound you’d made was affecting him, echoing in his skull in a way he knows it shouldn’t. He doesn’t even flinch despite the way your nails are leaving angry, red crescents marred on his skin. He quickly screws the barbell together before completely retracting his hands from you, taking one more glance at his handiwork before consoling you, his heart seemingly aching for the pretty girl in his chair.

“I know, I know. Hurts like a bitch, but you’re halfway done. Doing so good, you’re alright,” he murmurs, reaching the gloved back of his hand to your face to wipe some of the stray tears on your cheeks.

You just whine, the radiating pain only now starting to subside as you keep your hold on his arm, now smoothing over the marks you’d left with your fingertips as if you’re kissing them better. His thumb grazes along your cheek for a little too long for it to be accidental. Matty’s praise while he wipes away your tears is making your mind fuzzy, it’s like he’s numbing the pain; the sweetest morphine. 

Your gasps for breath are slowing, the pain like a dull pulse, easing its grip on you. Mortification is starting to sink in now that you’re not reeling from shooting pain. One of the most attractive men you’ve ever seen just watched you in one of your most vulnerable moments, and there’s still one piercing to go, much to your dismay. 

“Fuck, this is embarrassing,” you admit with a breathy laugh at your own expense. 

“Nah, don’t be embarrassed. You could’ve done much worse, probably,” he says, looking amused as he shakes his head at you.

“Like what?” “I dunno… like, socked me in the face as a fight or flight response.”

You laugh at that, a bright sound filling the room that makes Matty’s smile grow fonder as he gazes down at you with those pretty, sparkly eyes. The moment lingers on for a few beats, tension blooming between you that almost makes you forget about the throbbing ache of your left breast (almost). 

“You do know I have to do the other one right? Unless you’re a bit odd and like the one-piercing look,” he reminds cautiously over the clinking metallic sound of him picking up his tools. 

“I know,” you sigh, “can you do it fast?” 

“Erm… I’ll do it as quickly as I can without making it cockeyed, but I reckon you’ll be fine. Besides, the second one’s always easier from what I’ve seen.”

He doesn’t seem like the type that would elude you for the sake of false security, so you take his word as gospel, settling in to prepare yourself for what’s hopefully a more tolerable experience. His next words have your heart thrumming against your ribs.

“Can you handle it?” he asks, more of a challenge than a question.

You nod at him quietly, absentmindedly drawing little feather-light swirls on his bicep. The incentive of his praise is becoming all too tempting. You want to handle it, you want to show him that you can do it. There’s a new, honeyed kind of heat seeping into your bones. 

“Good girl. You’re a strong one, love,” he praises, sensing just how eager you are.

The next pulse you feel doesn’t come from your chest. Good girl? He has to be fucking with you. Jesus, does he talk to all of his customers like this? Does he wipe all of their tears too? Something in you wants to believe he doesn’t. He watches as your lips part slowly, your lashes fluttering as you look up at him. You have to know.

“Do you call all your customers that?” you whisper, blinking up at him coyly.

“Not really, no. Only the pretty ones who deserve it.”

Your breath comes out as a shudder, it’s unfair how easily he leaves you stunned. He clicks his tongue casually before getting back to work, all too pleased by the look on your face. You know the routine by now, Matty makes quick work of clamping your nipple and arranging the prodding tip of the needle just so. You’re still clinging to his arm, or your personal stress toy, something you’ve grown very familiar to the feel of throughout your time here. The countdown starts, he’s not giving you as much time to prepare. 1. 2. 3. What was more like a shriek from earlier comes out as a whine this time, a high-pitched, whimpery noise spilling from you. You don’t curse or practically maul his arm this time, but it’s still painful, you can’t say you’re fond of how vividly you can feel the needle go in and out amidst the burning sting. 

“Beautiful, atta girl,” he whispers, screwing the end of the barbell on before leaning back to admire his work, his eyes unabashedly glued to how the jewelry sits prettily on your breasts.

You have no clue if he’s talking about you, your tits, or the job he’d done, but it makes your skin warm all the same. 

Finally, you allow yourself to look at your chest, gently sliding your hand off of his bicep to prop yourself up on your arms and get a good look at the two new adornments. Shit, they look good on you, better than you’d hoped, and perfectly symmetrical thanks to him. He smirks when he notices the way you’re gawking at the piercings, knowing that the pain is barely a thought in your mind now, too distracted by how newly desirable you must feel. Matty likes knowing that one, he’s good at his job, and two, that he’s just helped you feel sexier. He’s really enjoying watching you admire yourself and in turn, his work. There’s a slight stir beneath his baggy pants, which he knows should never happen while he’s with a client, but you might just be the sweetest thing that’s ever been in his chair. He’s allowing himself a pass.

“Shit, Matty, they’re really nice,” you gape, your stomach swooping when you glance up to see the smug look playing on his lips.

“Yeah, they came out mint. Suit you nicely, don’t they?” he says, daring to dance along the line of being unprofessional as he then glances down at your tits and whistles. 

What a boy.

“Thank you… for everything I mean.”

“Don’t mention it, you were great,” Matty smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he waves off your gushing.

Butterflies are rampaging in your stomach, god, why does he have to be so lovely? He looks like he has something he wants to say, but it goes unspoken, rattling around in his head instead. His expression is hard to read, but would you be deluding yourself to say there’s a tinge of longing? A few beats of quiet tick by, and you’re now becoming acutely aware of the fact that you no longer have a reason to be topless, awkwardly crossing your arms. Always so attentive, Matty suddenly straightens up and reaches over your body, his chain dangling in front of your face as he grabs your shirt and bra from the counter. He places them on your lap and politely turns away as if he’s never seen you undressed, clearing his throat like that will clear the thick tension in the air. 

You wince as soon as the cups of your bra meet your immensely tender breasts, sucking in a sharp breath through your teeth as you power through clasping it. The sensitivity is something you’d been warned about, and now you get to joyfully experience it firsthand for the next however many weeks. Your eyes are on Matty’s back as you slip your shirt over your head, taking note of how rigid he seems as he gathers the after-piercing care papers for you. But maybe it’s in your head. You haven’t known him very long at all, it’s a dangerous game to assume any of the tension of this afternoon was real when you were freaking out for more than half of it.

“Right, any questions for me?” he asks, striding over to hand you the pages.

Are you single?Can we go out?Should we make out right now?How are you real?

“No, I think I’m alright.”

“Okay, well, if you’re not woozy, you can go ahead and stand up when you’re ready,” he says, clasping his hands together as if he’s wrapping up his job well done. 

With the care pamphlet in one hand, you start to slowly swing your legs over to the side, noticing the way Matty stands at attention like he’s ready to catch you if your legs give out. But they don’t, you’re able to stand with minimal wobbles, shaking out your hands to try and relax your poor, recovering body. 

The walk back to the front of the parlor is quiet, the both of you trying to grapple with the tension you couldn’t quite leave behind in the chair. There’s not much else to say, is there? You’re both standing next to the door now, and Matty retracts one of his hands from within his pockets to hold it out to you. Nothing says “I just blurred the lines of professionality while piercing your tits and now this is goodbye” like a good old handshake, does it? You try to keep your expression neutral even though this all feels quite bittersweet, grasping his hand with a firm shake. It’s the first time you’ve felt his hand without the latex glove between you, they’re soft, but you can tell he works with his hands, the callouses on his fingertips grazing your skin.

“Lovely to meet you, sorry I wasn’t a chick,” he chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yeah, you too. And don’t worry about that, I’m glad it was you,” you reply, perhaps being a little too sincere, but it feels right to say. 

“... well, listen, get home safe, alright? Take care of yourself, call if you have any problems,” he says, once again seeming like he’s biting his tongue, keeping himself from saying something to you. 

You reach for the handle of the door, but you don’t open it. You look back at him like you’re giving him one more chance to tell you what you’re hoping to hear, but he doesn’t, he just offers a nod with an unreadable expression on his face. Heartache.

“See you, Matty,” you nod in return, opening the door and shutting it behind you.

You evaluate your situation on the walk back to your car. You’ve rid yourself of the urge to get your tits pierced, and they look fantastic, but your new problem is that you have a massive crush on your body piercer that you’re likely never going to see again unless you get another piercing. It’d be a rather expensive hobby to get a piercing just to see his face, so scratch that. Your only option is to be reminded of him every time you take your shirt off, how miserable is that?

Little do you know, the moment the shop door closed behind you, Matty groaned with his face in his hands, mentally kicking himself for not asking you out, or at least getting your number. Sure, you were a client, he had to be careful, but shit, you weren’t just any client, now were you? What was wrong with him? Something about you left the body piercer stiff and tongue-tied, replaying every moment of your encounter back in his mind. Never in his life had Matty Healy felt anything for a customer.

—---One month later—----

After a hellish month of healing, scabbing, and getting your piercings caught on things, you’ve decided that there’s no real point in having nipple piercings if no one gets to see them but you. You’d like to tell yourself that you don’t think about Matty as much anymore, but that would be laughably dishonest. Dating apps are just about one of the most aggravating wastes of time ever, and you’ve had no luck meeting people naturally, so here comes the next best thing: blind dates. Your close friend fancies herself to be somewhat of a matchmaker, she’s been talking up this guy to you for days now, telling you how funny and totally your type he is, and nothing could possibly go wrong if she set you up. You have your doubts, but still, you find yourself in a cafe waiting for your mystery man to sweep you off your feet with his supposed punchy one-liners. What you don’t expect, however, is to watch a very familiar mohawked man stride into the place, the eyes that have patronized your dreams every night scanning across the cafe until they lock onto you. 

—----------------------------------------------

Don’t you worry, I won’t leave you hanging with just tension, ofc there’s going to be a smutty part two <3

Thank you very much for reading, I hope it wasn’t underwhelming! And thank you to any other writers that I reached out to to consult about my ideas, ily, mwah!

[venomous-qwille]

Hi Qwille!

So I was wondering because I’m struggling with this myself- how did you continuously improve with art when you were first still building upon your skills? Like to get to a level that could be professional?

And I think I mean this in more of a mental capacity way. I tend to get angry at the fact that I’m not better by now and feel like I struggle by the skin of my teeth to improve from where I’m at every time, even if objectively speaking I’m already better than people would expect me to be.

I just feel like there’s a better way to go about it than being fueled by anger or spite. I enjoy art, and I’m proud of my work, but I don’t know how to *not* be angry at myself for not being better at it. How do you accept self criticism with grace when it comes to your work? Or how did you, when you were younger? If that’s a question you’re willing to ask, of course! Thank you <3

Hiya! So, I'll start out by saying that this is absolutely the hardest part about learning to draw/paint. The continuous failure and discontent with the work we produce is a constant struggle that is, I believe, the main reason people stop trying to learn at all.

It's okay to get angry and sad, it's okay to be dissatisfied. It's a very cruel joke that, as artists, our eye will improve faster than our ability to draw. We are constantly chasing a carrot that is being pulled further away from us. For me: my improvement was not constant. There were several points where I didn't draw for years, because of other life factors and because the art I was creating brought me no joy.

Things had to change when I decided that I wanted to do art professionally. I needed to improve and improve fast, so I bent a lot of time towards studies. I found that the things I got better at the fastest were the ones where I found studying to be really fun. I really enjoy copying master paintings- especially the nineteenth and twentieth century realists. Finding fun in doing them for the sake of doing them really helped me improve fast because it wasn't stressful- I was just creating art I liked, even if they were copies.

I think accepting that the main joy of art is in the creating, not the result, really helped me be at peace with my artwork. Also, becoming a professional artist and realising that I didnt own what I created- and that I was subject to the (often questionable) tastes of my commissioners/art directors/stakeholders really allowed me to unlatch my emotional self from my work.

Every piece is a step, sometimes you will hit your bellcurve, make the best thing you are currently capable of making- and fuck that feels good- but often you wont, and you wont know why you dont like it. Learning to enjoy the push towards those small moments, the slow improvement as you gradually grasp new skills, learning to love learning, that is the most curative thing. Once I started to enjoy failing, because it meant I was learning- and once I started forgiving myself for not picking everything up straight away- I was much, much happier.

It's okay for it to be hard and your emotions are valid. Forgive yourself for having them and try to find something you enjoy about the process. Recontextualise your mistakes as what they are: not a failure, but just another step up the giant mountain of your art journey. There is always a higher peak. The journey never ends. Stop looking at the top and just enjoy the view and the mountain air. (And for fucks sake don't compare yourself to other people. They're not even climbing the same landmass.)

[moonstruckme]

I am literally obsessed with doctor!Remus. You've opened my heart to something new hahah. If it's alright, could you maybe do Doctor!Remus calming the reader down from a panic attack? Maybe they got to overworked and just had one. It happens to me sometimes

Thanks lovely <3

cw: panic attack

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 979 words

The embarrassing part is that it comes on when you’re supposed to be having fun. Bogged down by work for weeks now, you’d thought you could meet up for coffee with friends and get through some paperwork while they chatted, but you should have known better. James Potter leaves no man behind, and you keep being pulled away from your work by his relentless geniality. One second James is talking to you about he and Lily’s debate over what color to repaint their kitchen, the next an invisible hand closes over your windpipe. 

“I’ve got to—I’ll be right back.” You stand as composedly as you can, beelining for the coffee shop’s restroom. You can hear your heartbeat like the pounding drum of doomsday. You can feel it in your teeth. You rattle the restroom door, but it’s locked, and you press your back to the wall, gasping around the nausea and panic clogging in your throat. You try to remember what you’re supposed to do. There are things you can do, things that are supposed to help, but nothing can help. Nothing can save you from this.

“Hey, let’s sit down,” a calm voice says. Remus. You let him push your shoulders down the wall, legs folding into your chest. “There we go. You’re okay.” 

“I can’t—I don’t—”

“Shh, I know. Focus on…focus on the end of the hall. How many chairs are there?”

You turn your head, trying to count the chairs you can see stacked in the corner. They’re hard to distinguish, and you keep losing track. You’re going to be sick.

Slender fingers sneak down to your wrist, feeling your pulse. “Breathe, dove.” 

Your head spins, an acute ache forming in your chest. “I—I can’t.” 

“Yes, you can.” You feel his touch on the back of your neck, lifting your hair. He presses something cold and wet in its place. “Like me, alright?” 

He inhales deeply. You do your best to follow. 

“Good,” he says on the exhale. “Good job, sweetheart. You’re doing so well. Keep focusing on the chairs.” 

“I can’t count them,” you tell him desperately. 

“That’s alright. Then just breathe for now, if that’s easier.” 

He picks up the wrist he’s been holding, setting your palm to his chest. You feel his ribs expand, and try to puff yours to mirror him. A dribble of water slips from the back of your neck to your collar, down your shirt. The door to the restroom opens, the occupant hustling away when they notice you on the floor. Remus ignores them, so you do too. The inhales are the hardest. He’s breathing in for longer now that he feels you can handle more. The ache in your chest is easing, but still tender. 

“You’re going to be alright,” he promises, voice low and soothing. “You always are, remember?” 

You shake your head, tears blurring your vision.

“You are. It’ll pass, honey.” 

You try to believe him.

“Want to try counting the chairs again? I’ll do it with you this time.” 

You don’t really, but you want what Remus wants, so you look up. 

“Okay, let’s start with that small stack. How many?”

You take a second, but this one is easier than the larger stack you’d tried before. “Six.” 

“Good.” His lips drop to the top of your head, the kiss so quick it’s barely there. “Now the one next to it.” 

You have to start over once, but Remus is patient, thumb soothing over your wrist while you work. “Um, seventeen. I think.”

“I got seventeen too,” he reassures you. “You’re doing so well, dove. One more, okay?” 

You nod. It’s getting easier. You count quietly in your head. “Fifteen, right?” 

“Right.” Remus kisses between your brows, mindless of the sweat you can feel sticking the baby hairs to your face. He adjusts his grip on your wrist, silent while he re-checks your pulse. “Feeling better, lovely girl?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, the familiar shakiness of the comedown taking you. You shiver, and Remus removes the cold thing from your neck. It’s a water bottle, dripping with condensation. “Thanks for coming after me.” 

“Of course,” he murmurs, brows stitching together now the danger has passed. “I knew coffee was a bad idea after the week you’ve had. I should have told you to get decaf.” 

You sigh, leaning forward until your forehead hits his shoulder. “I thought I needed the energy.”

“You’ve been overworking yourself, dove. Time to start taking more breaks.” 

After what you’ve just gone through, you can’t even argue. “Okay.” You squeeze your eyes closed. You know, logically, that you have a tendency to get teary after attacks, but that doesn’t make your fragile emotions feel any less real. You’d come here to be around your friends, and you’d ended up needing to do breathing exercises on the floor outside the bathroom. “I’m sorry.” 

Remus is used to the aftermath too. He rubs heavy circles into your back, kissing the shell of your ear. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. These things happen, and all we can do is whatever we can to keep it from happening again, but no part of it is your fault or embarrassing. Understand?” 

He’s speaking to you softly, remonstrance gentled, but he waits until you nod against his shoulder to go on.

“Good. Ready to go home?” 

You raise your head to look at him. “Shouldn’t we stay for a bit?” 

Remus gives you a small smile, clasping your trembling hands between his. “I think you’re going to want a nap in a minute here, sweetheart. They’re our friends, they’ll understand.” 

You laugh a little, and it rings of shaky nervousness. “I guess you’re right.” 

He stands, encouraging you up with him by your joined hands. “I’m always right, dove. The sooner you figure that out, the easier things will be for both of us.”

[sucodelaranja86]

hi I'm here w a request :3 can I get akito with an s/o that's really clingy and physically affectionate please?? thank you!!

- stray, gentle dog : ★

pairing: shinonome akito x reader

summary: you and your boyfriend were polar opposites, but opposites attract, don't they?

warnings: none.

A/N: my first request! I am so excited!

★ . ★ . ★ . ★

➤ You were practically bouncing down the streets as you pull yourself together. Breathe, [name], breathe!

You had just received you first ever payment from your part-time job. Your parents insisted that you didn't need to work, they always tried their hardest to give you what they could. The real problem was Akito, who almost melted in anxiety when you said you managed to find a job.

-

"Why do you even need a job? I can pay for your things. Didn't i say i could-" he was quickly interrupted by your comforting voice.

"I know you are such a gentleman, Aki, but i want to pay for things for you too! Don't be such an overthinker. I can't depend on you for everything in our relationship." You caress his head gently while talking, giving him a small peck as you snuggled onto him further.

Akito could only huff and pout as you snuggled your head onto his chest, gently kissing it up and down.

"I'm sweaty, can't i even bath first?" he moved uncomfortably in his bed, but still didn't move away from your touch. He wouldn't dare to.

"no, i want to stay with you. Besides, you look handsome without a shirt on." you said in a matter-of-fact tone, as if it was the absolute truth.

"you really are an idiot, you know that?"

You just hugged him closer, now laying your head on his shoulder. knowing that even if you said nothing, you had already won this argument.

-

The first thing you bought was pancakes, adding everything you had the right as a top. You looked at your clock- his training had already finished, meaning he was coming to pick you up at your job right now, and that he could appear at any minute- and-

"Oi, wake up. Stop looking at the wall."

As he finished his sentence, you almost tackled him into the ground in a bone-crushing hug. As he finally stables you two into the counter, you pepper his grumpy face in kisses.

"How did you training go, dear? You left a bit earlier." you said after finally stopping with your kisses.

"It was worth it. I finally feel satisfied with my results- but what about you? How did everything here go?" he snuck his arm behind your waist, walking you both to the train station.

"It was great, but a bit low at clients. I spent most of the time listening to your group songs! I am totally addicted to that one you say something like- 'lalarilala-'"

"enough, please." he says, his blushing face reaching a tone close to his hair. Couldn't you not tease him for a minute?

At the beginning of your relationship, affection felt like petting an hostile dog. Fearing that if you did one wrong movement, it would snap and unleash himself. But after some weeks, you were proved quite the contrary. Feeling more like a giant dog that demanded affection like a little poodle.

Akito could try to hide all he wants, but he couldn't hide how needy and touch starved he was. As you, of course, had no problem in obliging to his needs.

"Let's go home, Aki. I bought you some pancakes, and- Oh! You have much to catch up! I can't wait to tell you what my manager said- and-"

Your attempt at conversation was quickly turned down by him initiating a kiss as soon as you both reached your front porch.

Well, talking could wait. Right?

＃ ＃ ＃ ＃

[slut4thebroken]

Earn Your Prize

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Reader x choose your own character

(Reader doesnt call him anything and there’s nothing in the writing to indicate that it’s one character or another except maybe the pet names used, so pick whoever you want and enjoy<3 (this is who I was picturing but you can literally choose anyone with a dick lol: Jackson Rippner, Jonathan Crane, Thomas Shelby, Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Bucky Barnes, etc.))

Summary | Character of your choice wants to try something new.

Warnings | 18+, sexual content, smut, 69 sex position, oral m receiving, praise, humiliation, face fucking, deep throating, throat pie lolll, held down hehe, filthy disgusting nasty oral sex, that’s literally it, no f orgasm, but not in a douchey way lol I just didn’t feel like writing it.

Words | 1.3 k

Notes | Idk man I’m going through a phase, don’t judge me. Also I wrote this in one day lol so I might edit it again later but for now I think I like it skdhdk

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

“Let’s play a game, princess. Get up here.” He moved you on top of his body so that your front was flush with his and your face was hovering above his already throbbing cock. “You’re going to stay on my cock, no matter what. Feel free to hold yourself up so it doesn’t go too deep.” He explained and you were confused as to how this was a game, but agreed anyway. “On your knees.” You frowned when you realized that meant he wouldn’t be eating you out. Instead of complaining, you obeyed and bent your legs so you were kneeling with your shoulders resting on his lower stomach. 

“Put it in your mouth and get ready.” You wrapped your lips around the tip and waited for the next instruction. “Hands behind your back.” You obeyed, but the second you weren’t holding yourself up, you were all but impaled on his cock, making him moan loudly. When you tried to move your arms back to hold yourself up, he grabbed them and kept them on your back. 

“Hold yourself up and you won’t choke.” 

No shit. You wanted to say. Instead you did your best to lift your head a little, letting you get in a shaky breath of much needed air. You couldn’t hold the position for long though and you fell back down, gagging when he breached your throat barrier. 

“Atta girl. If you can’t take it, all you have to do is hold yourself up.” You let out a strangled whine and tried to hold yourself up again, but you barely managed to lift off his cock more than an inch, and you didn’t last long either. The strain in your muscles was too much and you whimpered as you fell back down. 

When you started squirming and moving your legs to try and get in a position that would make this easier, he took both of your arms in one hand, then used the other to roughly slap your ass, making you jolt forward and choke when his cock went impossibly deeper in your throat. 

“No cheating.” He said sternly. You could barely hear him over your loud choking and gagging. Tears were quickly welling in your eyes as you remained there. 

You gagged the hardest you had so far and your body all but convulsed as you sputtered around him, making all the saliva that built up in your mouth roll down his balls onto the bed. It was getting on your chin and your nose and you felt completely and utterly filthy, but you couldn’t help the way it made you squirm, this time because of arousal. 

You were fully crying now, but you managed to control the gagging as you tried to take deep breaths through your nose. This is the longest he’s ever had you stay like this and you’re not sure how much more you can take, but you want to be good for him, so you kept trying. 

He used his grip on your arms to pull you up a little, lifting you off his cock barely two inches to let you take in a deep breath and have a break from the constant pressure on your gag reflex. 

“That better?” He asked with mock sympathy, but you hummed in agreement anyway. He suddenly bucked his hips up, making you gag loudly and try to flinch away, but you couldn’t move anywhere. He started fucking your mouth roughly and you weren’t sure what was worse; this or being forced to stay all the way down. 

“God— You’re fucking dripping on my chest.” He said through a groan, making you whine, but the sound cut off into a garbled moan when his cock punched the back of your mouth again. 

“Should I eat your pretty pussy?” You tried to agree, but the words were unintelligible with his cock in your mouth. “Win the game and I’ll let you ride my face— Earn your prize, baby.” He decided and you couldn’t help the loud, strangled moan that escaped you, but you still wondered how you were even supposed to win. Maybe he’s wanting you to stay here until he comes? You hoped it was that because based off of his sounds and the frantic bucking of his hips, you knew he was getting close already. 

He suddenly stopped holding you up and you fell forward onto his cock, choking because you weren’t expecting to be dropped like that. You coughed and sputtered and whimpered, growing even more embarrassed and needy when you saw how much of a mess you were making. He started lazily rutting up into your face, slowly bringing himself to the edge and moaning at your struggling. 

“Such a good girl.” He cooed. “Does your cunt always get this wet when I fuck your face?” His tone was far too sweet for the crudeness of his words. All you could do was let out a garbled sound and squirm a little, wishing he’d stop teasing already. “Fuck I’m close.” He said through a breath. You braced yourself for what was about to happen— trying to remember that after this, you could pull off and cough and pant as much as you needed. 

His motions got more eager, rutting up into you as you choked each time his cock was forced even deeper down your throat. He let out a loud moan and you felt hot come hit the back of your throat. When you gagged and tried to pull away, he wrapped a leg over your head and pushed you down even farther as he shushed you. 

“I know. Doing so good, baby.” He groaned, but you could barely hear it. You were thrashing now, your body panicking at the lack of air and the constant pressure on your gag reflex as his cock twitched inside you. All he did was tighten his grip on your arms and push your head down harder with his leg, forcing you to stay there as he rode out his orgasm. 

He released your arms first and you immediately brought them forward to push yourself up, but your head was still trapped by his leg. You clawed at it, trying to get him to remove it so you could finally breathe again, and after a moment, he slowly lessened the pressure, then placed his leg on the bed. You shot up and coughed almost violently, whining when you saw the large glob of spit connecting your lips to his cock. You tried to spit it out, but it slid down your chin before landing on his cock and sliding down his balls to join the rest of the mess. 

He rubbed soothing circles on your hips while you caught your breath and calmed down. When your breathing finally returned to a somewhat normal intensity, you sat up a little more, waiting for what was next. 

“Clean your mess.” 

“But,” You cut off with a choked moan when he landed a hard slap on your ass. Tentatively leaning down, you licked at it, trying to clean it. Honestly you thought you were only making the mess worse, but you knew that this wasn’t really about you cleaning him. 

“All of it.” You whined, but worked your way down to his balls, lapping up the spit as best you could. “You can do better than that.” He said, sounding almost annoyed, then wrapped his leg around your head again and pushed your face into his cock and balls, covering you in spit. “I said, clean it.” He growled when you didn’t do anything. You stuck your tongue out, but it’s not like you could lick anything with how hard he was holding you down. When he started grinding his hips, rubbing his spit soaked cock on your face, you whined quietly as your whole face heated up from the humiliation. 

“There you go.” He groaned, grinding against you even harder. He only continued for a few more seconds before releasing you and you let out a strangled whimper as soon as your head was free. He shushed you and lightly ran his thumb over your slit. “Such a good girl.” He said quietly, pulling your hips back so you were hovering over his face. 

“Take your prize now, baby.”

[fhrlclln]

i’m sorry but i need angst!

i need qimir and reader angst!

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZPRoXdYwG/

forlorn | qimir

SUMMARY -> loving him was the hardest thing she has ever done but how does that love go so far when he is so immersed in the darkness?

qimir x fem! reader

masterlist

GENRE -> angst

WARNINGS -> toxic relationship, arguments, qimir's kinda gives off sadboi vibes in this, slight manipulation? abandonment & hurtful words

WC -> 1.61k

a/n: 🚨warning, pathetic man realizes his girl is going to leave him!! 🚨 LMAOOO. hope you liked this anonz!!

likes, comments and reposts are greatly appreciated !! <3

enjoy !!

your hands feel numb as you scrub away the piece of clothing in your hands.

your heart feels heavy. your washing his dirty robes, the water in the large basin turning red from the blood and grime as you ponder to yourself... why were you still here with him? you scrub hard, the overwhelming emotions threaten to burst out. this was all wrong. why were you washing the clothes of a cold-hearted murderer?

well, you couldn't. you could not leave him even if you desperately wanted to.

drowning in your own thoughts, you don't notice the chaste kiss placed on top of your head when he finally speaks to you. the same hushed and soft tone reserved solely for you.

"your hands are going to bruise, my love." you look up to see him, the man you were thinking of... the one you are thinking of leaving. qimir has a soft smile written across his serene face as he bends down to your crouched level. and those thoughts diminish now. you always fall back to the start when he looks at you like this. like you were the only thing in the world he desires... that he loves. but you have to remember you were not. that was the realization you had to learn when he carelessly put your life in danger that night in khofar.

"the blood won't come off." you say with a plain tone, avoiding his calculating stare. there's a deafening silence between the two of you as if you're both waiting to see who would speak first about what happened. but you hoped, you hoped he wouldn't say anything else because if he did, you don't know what you'll do. you scrub his robe a little harder, dunking it in the soapy water with a splash, and qimir lets out a sigh at your behavior toward him.

"forgiveness is a hard thing to give. that i know." he starts off as if he's starting a lesson for you. "but if we prolong this further, when are we going to move forward, my heart?"

your drop his robe in the basin. "some things aren't meant to be forgiven easily, qimir." you bite back. how dare he tell you to move past this? when your own heart is still in shambles for the pain he had caused. his face drops to a solemn frown, and he seems uncertain what to say, but he opens his mouth nonetheless.

"i don't wish to argue-"

"you left me for dead in that godforsaken forest!" you raised your voice, standing up now as you turned around, picking up the laundry basket to hang outside, wanting to get away from him. damn him and his fucking blood-soaked robe. the salty tears forming in your eyes, threatening to fall down if you look at him one more time. your steps are quick, but qimir still follows you outside.

you shuddered out a shaky breath, calming yourself as you focused on hanging your washed clothes on the clothesline outside the cave. anger consumes you, you feel like you've been betrayed, how the one person in your whole miserable life could carelessly throw you in the hands of the jedi just because of one thing.

power.

another acolyte who he wants, to be able to achieve the one thing you have always heard come out of his mouth. the power of two. the moment when you had come back to this remote planet to see him tending to her, osha, the one he brought back- not you.

you felt like a fool, a fool who continued to be with him against your personal conflict and how dangerous your life had become because of him. you tried to ignore the jealousy you felt when you saw him treating her when you came back all mangled in dirt and cuts from fighting those jedis in khofar. and he dismissed you when you were going to argue how he didn't even try to come back for you. oh, how your pure heart broke into pieces, how uncaring he sounded that day.

you cried for the first time in years, feeling like you've been abandoned by the one man you claimed to yourself you love. the person who accepted you after years of being abandoned by everyone you had cared for. it was getting tiring. you're tired of being tossed away for another. again and again and again-

"i was going to come back for you." he softly said, gauging your reaction as you hung up your clothes. "but, it was too dangerous to come back to the planet. the order would have been there, and all my careful protection would be gone to waste. i know you understand that."

"you have a tasteful way of saying... i'm disposable." you grit your teeth, wanting to throw yourself off the cliff now. "but her? you chose her instead of me to save."

you willed yourself to turn around to face him. he stands there, face as passive as ever. no emotions but just a quiet look of calmness. it irks you how this seems normal to him. were you going to be just another tool at his own expense? to be tossed away every time if he deems so. your mouth quivers, you can't hold back anymore.

"i'm sorry." he says, but you don't feel he's sincere. "i love you."

"this doesn't feel like love anymore, qimir." you shake your head. "i want to leave. you have your acolyte, and i am done being tossed away." you sniffled, wiping away the tears that had already fallen on your cheeks.

his eyes darkened, and he stepped closer to you. "you can't."

"oh, so when osha wants to leave, you let her. but to me, i'm the prisoner?" you glared at him through your watery eyes. his chest rises, you see him fighting back his own emotions. you want him to feel the same hurt you're feeling as you continue to push on.

"you're so desperate to achieve the rule of two, you don't even see what you're doing is hurting the people around you." you say with venom laced in your tone. "i know i cannot be with your goal, osha can, but will she? it's ironic how careless you are to abandon me when you have experienced the same thing from your master. how cruel you are to do it to the person who you claim to love."

his jaw ticks at your words, and you hit a sore spot. you stare into his emotionless eyes, brows furrowing as he doesn't say anything else.

"you don't love me." you quietly said, your own words hurting you. "if you loved me, you wouldn't abandon me when i needed you."

"that is not true." his face contorted to anger. "you have to understand what i said."

"i am tired of understanding you!" you cried, sobbing as you pushed him away, but he caught your wrist before you could shove him back again. "and frankly, i don't understand you, qimir. what is the point of having more power? what do you want from me when I cannot give it to you, but osha can?" your eyes begged for an answer.

"freedom." he merely says, and you scoff.

"when will you be free if the darkness compels you to have more power?" you retort, you never liked this way of the force. "you're obsessed with this. i feel like you're losing yourself for this."

"if it means protecting you with this power, i will gladly do so." he rests his forehead against yours, and you let him, savoring his gentle touch that you know it might be the last. his hands stay on your waist, rubbing up and down to soothe your sobs. "i don't want anything from you... i just want you."

your heart thumps, doubting if you believed him.

"i love you, qimir." you say as his eyes shine with hope. "but i can't do this anymore."

"don't leave me." he begs, sensing that you're serious about leaving him. "i need you with me."

"let me go." you begged back. if he held you in his arms further, you didn't know if your decision to leave would come true. "please."

he doesn't say anything else. his own eyes shine wetly, his own resolve crumbling.

"stay with me. just a little longer. think about it, please." he tries again, hoping you would relent. your hands move up to cup his cheeks in your palms. "i'm sorry."

"when will this all stop?" you whispered, sighing. "i just want a peaceful life with you."

he doesn't have an answer to that, but that gives him some realization of what follows through. but he knows deep down he will not stop until the jedi order won't come for him. peace is a lie. he remembers what he said to mae back then. he knows he cannot give what you are asking for. peace was never going to be in his life, he hoped you would understand that if you chose to stay with him. but if you choose to leave, he finds himself crumbling at the thought of losing you.

he chooses to capture your lips to his, and you kiss him back, knowing he doesn't have an answer to your questions. he holds you in his arms, your chest hurts, you don't know what to do now. but all you know is your love for him will always be there, whether you choose to leave him still.

all you can hope for now is a moment of peace, even if it will never happen as you rest in his arms.

[pepsiboyy]

Could you do one where the boys are on a tour (in Australia maybe😏) and the reader gets like a backstage pass for her and he bff and reader is talking to Chris in the meet greet(earlier cause of the pass) and Chris seems to take interest in her so he slips his number in her pocket and she eventually finds and called the number confused and he picks it up and then after awhile of them talking back and forth Chris asks her out and they start dating blah blah blah (sorry for the in Australia maybe lol I just want them to do a tour here so I can meet em)

SAVE MY NUMBER.

pairing: chris sturniolo x fem!reader summary: the triplets are finally having an abroad tour and the reader purchased vip tickets with their best friend to meet them. what happens when she finds a stray set of numbers on her postcard when she gets back to the hotel? warnings: cursing, use of y/n!! a/n: thank u for the request love <3 i hope this is awesome sauce !! i tried so hard to make this enjoyable LOLL but i think it may have come out ok!! <3 lowercase intentional !!

my fingers anxiously picked at my shoes with one hand as my other hand scrolled through instagram.

"come on, y/n, aren't you excited!?" my best friend, harper, exclaimed as she gripped my shoulder and shook me rapidly.

with a soft nod and a small chuckle, i nodded as i locked my phone and let it fall into my lap. "of course i am. i'm just tired of sitting here."

we had been sitting in the sun on the side of the venue in line for the last hour and a half. it was that point in the day where the sun was beating directly onto us.

i had managed to get my best friend and i some tickets to the triplets' tour with the meet and greet pass. counting down the days was grueling, but we finally made it and the hardest part was now. waiting outside to be let into the building.

"it'll be worth it. who even cares?"

i nodded softly as i looked her up and down. she was decked out in purple, some purple stars drawn on her cheeks under her eyes and some purple cargo pants with a let's trip tee and some white air forces.

i, personally, was drowning in orange. with an orange crop top and deep gray ripped jeans, my outfit was topped off with orange nike high top dunks and an orange belt. my friend had helped me out with the orange stars, mine on the opposite side from harper's.

"y/n, the line is moving!"

i turned my head to harper, being ripped from my thoughts before quickly standing to my feet and moving up in line.

the line moved slow, but it was something.

we still had a long way to go.

-

the line for the meet and greet felt like it was forever, but as we got closer, i felt like no time had passed at all. i could see them every once in a while through the lit cloth between the line and the boys, and my eyes shifted to harper. "dude, we're almost there." i chuckled, trying to keep myself as calm as possible as harper made noises i didn't even know were humanly possible.

"y/n, i don't know what to do or say, i think i might shit myself."

i slammed a hand over harper's mouth and let out a cackle, shaking my head. "shh, say that less loud." i scoffed and before i knew it, harper was next in line.

my hands toyed with the orange belt that helped my jeans hug my hips, my eyes glued in front of me as i watched the three boys.

the three boys i watched at first every once in a while when they appeared on my for you page, but i quickly became a huge supporter of the triplets, and they were somewhat a coping mechanism for me when things were hard.

and now i'm meeting them.

"next!"

i shot harper a smile and tapped her shoulder. "you got it!" i smiled brightly and waved as she approached matt.

i felt a lump develop in my throat. this was bad.

it wasn't a crying lump, but an anxious lump. unfortunately, when i get nervous, i can't help but ramble and yap.

"next!"

no way time flew by that fast. as i approached matt, i swallowed and smiled brightly as i felt like each step that i took was in slow motion.

matt's arms opened and i quickly stepped towards him and hugged him tightly. "hi, matt," i breathed, taking a deep breath as the reality of the situation began to settle.

"what's your name?" he asked softly, picking up his photo and signing it quickly.

"oh, it's y/n," i breathed, the smile on my face so wild you could have probably found me in a horror movie.

"nice to meet you, y/n. i hope we haven't kept you waiting too long?" he questioned, and i quickly shook my head.

"i'm just happy you guys are here," i breathed and smiled brightly at him before my expression fell. "oh my god a picture-" i scrambled to reach and get my phone from my back pocket, opening my camera and lifting it up.

two bright smiles later, matt pulled me into one more hug and smiled brightly, while i wished him luck on the rest of the tour.

i turned to see nick and smiled brightly, pulling him into a deep hug. i always had a theory that nick gave the best hugs of the three. so far, my theory was correct.

"hi, friend!" nick cheered, signing his card and smiling at me. "your star makeup is so cute, your friend had the same thing, no?"

i smiled brightly and nodded, biting my lip. "yeah, she did them for me actually! she's the best." i smiled and pulled out my phone.

"i'm so glad you guys could come." he stated as he wrapped an arm around me and held up a thumbs up in the camera.

i smiled brightly as i pulled away and gave him one last hug. "you guys are amazing. i just thought you should know, i'm proud of you guys. good luck tonight!" i told nick as i pulled from the hug. nick shot me a soft and quick thank you as i was rushed off to the final triplet.

christopher sturniolo.

i felt my entire being crumble the moment i took a few steps forward.

of course, i loved all three of the triplets with everything i had.

but chris.. i related to him in many ways and always found my eyes gravitating to him while watching their videos. he's a silly guy, and it doesn't help that i find him insanely attractive between the three.

"you in there?"

my eyes shot to chris as i let out a breath i didn't know i was holding.

i literally just spaced out in front of chris, who waved his hand in front of me to snap me out of my trance.

not to mention i'm decked out in his color.

"hi!" i squeaked, and he pulled me into a hug.

i bit my lip as i hugged him tightly, taking a deep breath.

the hug lasted for a little longer than needed, but i wasn't complaining.

not sure if it's because it's chris or not, but i think nick has some competition for best hug.

"i like your outfit," chris stated softly as he pulled away from the hug. i smiled brightly at him, and i couldn't tell if i was gaslighting myself or if he licked his lips while looking at my orange self.

"thanks, i don't really wear much orange," i stated and i felt my face heat up.

"it's definitely your color more than it is mine. consider wearing it more often?" he asked, writing on the card and pausing before deciding to hand it to me. "wanna take a selfie?"

i nodded quickly and shakily took out my phone and began to raise it, but chris carefully took it from my hands and raised it himself, wrapping his other arm around my shoulders softly.

he took about four photos and handed me the phone back.

after signing the card, taking a little longer than usual, he looked me up and down one more time.

we stood there for a few moments, simply looking at each other and i noticed my friend waving at me from behind chris, about ten feet away.

"you're gonna do great tonight," i quickly said to him, and he simply smiled at me and nodded, running his fingers through his hair to adjust his bangs.

holy fuck, this guy isn't real.

"i'll do great because you came. thanks for coming." he stated softly, and brought me into a tight hug.

i bit my lip hard as i hugged him back, taking in a deep breath.

-

the night went incredibly well. the show was enjoyable with the games they all played, and i told harper about the interaction i had with chris.

harper was in the shower. i had just gotten out, my pajama pants and small black tshirt hugging my body perfectly as i laid against my bed in the hotel.

i turned to the postcards, smiling brightly as i took them into my hands and admired them. i turned them in the light to look at the layered marker, holding them towards the lamp. as i got to chris's, i noticed some writing on the back through the light and my heart jumped out of my chest.

i threw myself up off the mattress and flipped the postcard over, feeling my heartrate pick up at the phone number written against the back.

"dude, the shampoo in there is awesome. you weren't kidding." harper stated as she dried her hair in a towel as she sat in front of me, also in her pajamas. "you okay?"

i looked at her and slowly held up the card, pointing at the number.

"holy fuck, is that..?" harper trailed off, and i bit my lip.

"oh my god, i need to call it." i stated as i searched for my phone under the comforter, quickly retrieving it and dialing the number.

i put my phone on speaker as i looked at harper, my leg bouncing anxiously.

"hello?"

my heart sank.

"h- hello?"

i mentally cursed at myself for stuttering.

"who is this?"

"uhh, it's y/n, i found this number on the back of my postcard-" i was quickly cut off.

"y/n!" he cheered. "it's chris."

"are you fucking for real?" i whispered, biting my lip.

"yes ma'am." he chuckled, and i shook my head. there's no way this is fucking happening right now.

"i know it's late and you guys probably have jet lag, so i'm sorry, but i just found it-"

"it's fine, really, i was running fortnite with matt." he stated quickly, cutting me off.

i snorted. it made sense.

"well, get a victory royale ok?"

"for you, i will. save my number, i'll text you." chris stated, and i looked at harper who was in utter shock.

"right, yeah i will." i stated quickly, and hung up afterwards.

silence overcame harper and i before i bit my lip and we both screamed at the top of our lungs at the same time.

there was no way this was real.

-

my eyes were beginning to shut as the video of the triplets from a few weeks ago seemed to be watching me.

i turned to harper, who had fallen asleep a little while ago and blinked a few times when my phone vibrated and chris's name appeared on my screen.

a bright smile took over my face as i began texting him, and my night was made even more. somehow.

[alyssa-the-witch]

Misconceptions I've had about Hestia

Whenever working with a new deity, I've learned that the myth doesn't always match the (wo)man. But a lack of mythos adds a whole new layer that I encountered when working with Hestia for the first time. I realized that, because there's not much about her, the little information out there has a high likelihood of not being true. And the few myths about her are maybe 3 sentences? So I decided to share some things that I've learned for input. There's also some general advice, as Hestia is the first goddess I've fully worked with. Coming up one year now, yayyyy!

As always, agree to disagree and please don't start fights!

🔥☕🏡🐖------🔥☕🏡🐖------🔥☕🏡🐖------🔥☕🏡🐖

1~ Hestia is passive

Ha! Not really! Many people believe that because Hestia is a home goddess and stays on Mt. Olympus, she's passive and unassertive. But from what I've learned, that could be farther from the truth. Despite Poseidon and Apollo's advances, she stayed true to what she wanted. She picked her job, chose what she wanted to do, and she's stuck to it. That's part of why she took her vow to Zeus, so she would have no man to deter her from the life she chose. That, I think, is crucial to hear these days, especially with the rise of trad wives and feminism. She is the prime example that it should be your choice and not anyone else's. Yes, she is calm and peaceful compared to her siblings, but she's also powerful in her quiet nature. There's a power in that.

2~ To devote yourself to Hestia, you have to be completely modest and veil all the time.

This was a hard one for me going into it. I thought that to devote myself, I had to stay true to all her virtues. And I tried to dress how I thought she would want me to. However, I realized that I felt so unhappy and nothing like myself. I was already fairly modest by nature, but I still felt like I wasn't modest enough. I prayed that night, did a little meditation, and I realized something. I don't have to be exactly like her to worship her. I can just be myself. Hestia, as a hospitable and kind goddess, she will take you and love you as you come. Recently, I've gotten myself real veils, but for a while I've just used a red hair tie while doing housework. And again, it wasn't all the time, just while while cleaning or cooking. And that's okay, she won't hate you for it!

3~ She'll be mad if you don't do your house chores on time or if you mess up cooking

This has got to be my anxiety showing, because looking back, there's no way that she would be like this. Cooking and baking are imperfect arts. Things tend to go wrong. And when they do, you just have a second, pick yourself up by your bootstraps, and keep going. If you mess up, Hestia is there for you: she lets you take those moments and guides you to get up and keep going, keep persevering, and finish that casserole. When it comes to chores, those are a lot harder, especially for neurodivergent people (like myself). Sometimes it can feel like that hardest thing in the world. But Hestia knows that, and she doesn't mind. As long as it gets done. Even if the laundry load is so big it feels like a mountain, she'll help you climb it. She knows, and she's there for you.

4~ By family, she means blood family.

Also no. Family is a very different thing than it was in Greek times. Now, family is what you make it, not who you're related to, and if your family is a danger to you, you have every right to not call them family. Hestia, along with being protector of hearth and home, she is the protector of those without a hearth to go to, those who don't have a stable home. She knows that family isn't linear, and I believe she wants everyone to have a stable family, no matter what it looks like. What is a home but the bricks you make it out of?, what is a fireplace but the kindling you put in it?

🔥☕🏡🐖------🔥☕🏡🐖------🔥☕🏡🐖------🔥☕🏡🐖

So yeah, that's my top four. Feel free to reblog with anything that you've learned, either from Hestia or any other deity you work with and give your input on my thoughts! Blessed be, everyone!

[inkedbookboyfriend]

Vulnerable StoryTime 2024 in review:

(Please do not reblog. But know if I can get through the following and still be super positive and optimistic, then so can you. I believe in you and hope my story helps)

2024... Wow, what a year!! Started off with new years day 911 call and getting admitted to the ER for a month. During that time I was dating a gal who I was in a volatile/narcissistic relationship with. We were planning on getting a place and I was going to raise her son as my own (that she was pregnant with when we met and already had 3 other kids so what was one more right 🤷🏻 i always wanted to be a dad) and kid was born in November and things were great. Then January happened. Got admitted for my flare up of ulcerative colitis and went through three infusion treatments and couldn't get it under control.

January 24th I woke up in my hospital bed screaming to "get it the f**k out of me" as my colon went mega toxic colon and I was distended the size of a beach ball (it was dead and exploding inside of me) had it removed. No more colon and was left with an ileostomy bag to shit in for the rest of my life (if I chose not to do jpouch procedure) and my life was forever changed.

I had almost died from organ failure due to malnutrition from not eating since December 2nd (was down from 207 in prime shape working out everyday to 150lbs) had a pick line put in with a bag of nutrients to keep me alive during this. The whole time in the hospital the girl I was dating never came to see me. We fought etc and not to mention on January 16th the baby passed away due to sids during that major icestorm we had (she lived two hours away in Eugene where it was very bad. So here I am almost dying, baby I was planning on being a dad to died, malnutrished, 150lb skeleton, lost my Colon, stuck shitting in an ileostomy bag and then she ghosts me (which I understood her baby dying I can't imagine how she felt)...

I get pushed out of hospital a week later and scared af, traumatized by so much of everything and get massive infection 3 days after being released and taken back to hospital. Surgery number two to insert drainage tube and was there most of February. Get out and have two massive wounds from on surgical line from the infection.

Then she pops back up out of no where and find out she was cheating on me and having a whole ass other full time relationship with another guy and she was cheating on him with another guy on top of that! Like wtf how is this possible! Literally extremely sick and twisted... so that ends! Then comes the worst shit you can say to another human being "Of course I cheated. You have a bag of shit stuck to the side of you. I'd never touch you again. No woman will. I was only with you for your money anyways and that's all you'll ever be good for now. No one wants to be with someone like that". Dude I've never been so hurt in my entire life.... I wanted to die after everything I had been through and still dealing with.

Back to health: so now I'm going to wound care 3 times a week to have dressing changed for a month then get a wound vac put on for another month and a half and during that time trying to learn to change this stupid bag lol (I had the hardest time doing that) now we're in May and end back up in the hospital for a week for infection again.

Then out of nowhere I wake up one night in pain! Horrible pain and can't move. Took 30 minutes to get out of bed and another month of Dr appointment and test and then get to rheumatologist to find out that my ulcerative colitis now attacks my joints like severe rheumatoid arthritis because it is an autoimmune disease. Even though my colon was gone it now attacks this, greeeeeat. So I now have to take an injection 💉 once a week on top of a ton of other meds and an ungodly amount of pain meds just to function daily. I still get flare ups but they are now short and fast lived. Few days max but they are rough and I hurt like he'll.

Then I meet Jessica. An amazing woman whom I adored and we would just talk for hours. She was a great woman and mom and she made me feel like a human being again. Helped restore my confidence and made me realize how much of a good man I really was. I gave her and her kiddo the world and summer and fall were great. However, she had alot of emotional Baggage and abuse she was dealing with from her ex (won't go into detail but was alot) and unfortunately it just wasn't going to work. We split up and that was rough too because it was a great relationship for what it was. Just wrong timing but we both got what we needed from the other to grow as people.

Then surgery number 3 happened during this time too and she was great (unlike the other one lol) and it went could to clean up all the scar tissue and and pull my stomach facia back together because it had split from the infection. But a day later I developed a hematoma along the whole surgical line. Basically a 13" blood clot and they had to go back into surgery again 2 days later.(#4 this year) and recovering this time was so much harder. Last few months had no energy and way more difficult due to the amount of trauma my body has been through.

Now I didn't cover all but the main parts. Here is what I took from this year.

It was the hardest, weakest, strongest and most challenging and growing year of my life. I had my lowest lows and my highest highs.

I found and lost love twice (which is surprising in itself considering I never date) I mourned the loss of a child, but I experienced him for a month and a half prior so was blessed with that even though he wasn't mine, I endured the most narcissistic/manipulative person alive, I found the most amazing, kind, loyal and encouraging person too, I learned true patience and understanding from her and her situation, I learned healing and self dependence on a level I never knew existed, I found myself after losing myself, I accepted total defeat and over came it, I found strength I never knew anyone could have, I found compassion and empathy in ways I can't explain because I also found true forgiveness and actually forgive Mariah for the evil she did.

Life is never what we expect it nor will it ever be perfect. We can only choose to be patient and understanding of everything we have and be fully grateful for life itself! It is so short my friends... so short. Make the most of it. Take chances. Take risks. Give yourself the opportunity to have an amazing life and be happy but most of all find your peace.

Find forgiveness and let go of the pain and hurt others caused you. We are not what has happened to us. We are not what anyone has done to us. Those were actions and choices reflecting on them. Let it go.

Find the people who choose you consistently day in and day out and please be kind.. always be kind to others because you never know what they're going through.

If I can get through and handle all that and still happy, smiling, helping others, trying to make as many people smile and laugh as possible, then you can get through whatever you're going through I promise you! I believe and have faith in you and am always here for anyone whoever needs to talk!

P.S.

GO TO DISNEYLAND & GET A TATTOO!!

(My cousin took me for the first time in my life, and it was my dream come true)