#i just feel like it's the most prominent writing tag on here

[tiny-chubby-bird]

hello!

as someone who likes to read and has also posted some stories myself on a secondary account, i'd like to suggest something to you. now, i am not someone to tell you what you should and shouldn't do, you're a free individual, so this isn't supposed to be a "do this or else!!" kinda post.

i'd just really like to suggest putting your works underneath the "read more" option on tumblr. if it's smut, some people may not want to read it, or maybe you don't want minors to immediately see all the dirty stuff. you could put the content warnings and notes and stuff on top, and then the actual writing under read more, for example (just a suggestion!!).

if it's not smut but also not short (i think anything above maybe 600 words can be seen as long on tumblr text post format), it would make scrolling through posts a lot easier to have those stories also under read more. i often scroll through the "your tags" section to look for stories, but will have to scroll past really, really long texts because a story with 3-5k words is not put under read more. it can be a bit exhausting, sometimes even annoying.

i see people complaining about unwanted smut and long walls of text every now and then and, while there are some filtering options, sometimes some tags still slip through and people still see what they try to avoid, and i know that tagging things properly can be a bit difficult at times if you don't know the right words/tags to use, or maybe you're as forgetful as i am. i know that's not my or your problem in particular, but we can still all work together to at least try and make this site as enjoyable as possible for everyone (not a very realistic goal, but an attempt often still counts for something).

tl;dr: it would be super appreciated if longer stories could be put under read more, so smut can be more easily avoided if it's unwanted, and there aren't walls of texts to scroll past.

if you perhaps don't know how to put something under read more, here's how:

on pc, when pressing enter to make a new paragraph, these symbols should show up

and the gray one on the far right side, when clicked, will put anything underneath it under read more. the same/similar symbols should be shown on tumblr mobile.

i am aware there's the option in your account settings to "shorten long posts" but some may not have this activated. i didn't until today because i didn't even know about it haha.

again, i'm not telling you what to do. this is mostly for new and/or younger people that may not know of this feature. this may be just my own personal preference, but i feel like it's kind of a respectful thing to do. sorry for rambling, hope you have a nice timezone!

[mywritersmind]

TATTOOED ON MY BODY - LN4

summary : Lando Norris doesn’t have many opinions when it comes to tattoos, but as soon as he sees his girl with a very supportive one, he’s all for it.

listen up : based on haley scott’s tattoo in one tree hill😚 suggestive content! lando norris likes ass. i’m a genius for this one. tbh since i don’t write smut, someone should just continue this and tag me.

words : 626

⋆｡‧˚⋆

“My love.” he practically melts into me, his hands instinctively going to my waist as his face gets buried in my chest.

I’m sitting in his driver's room as he leans against me in between my legs. His suit is unzipped and his hair is messy but he’s never looked happier.

He’s sweaty and soaked in champagne but I don’t care. He won. He fucking won the last race, his fourth win, as well as the constructors with his team.

“I’m so proud of you, Lan.” I bring my hand to his chin, tilting his face up to me to kiss him. He’s still smiling when I pull away and the air switches between us. I bite my lip, “I have a surprise for you…”

“Oh?” He rests his hands on either side of me. He hasn’t seen me in a couple of days, which I may or may not have strategically planned.

I nod slowly, pushing him back, “I got you something.”

“Yeah?” He’s smirking now, taking a couple steps back as his eyes rake up and down my body. “What kinda something?”

“Not exactly physical…” His brow raises at this, “But I think you’ll like it.” His head knocks the cabinets, nodding at me to go on.

I take a breath and turn around, maybe dragging it out a bit when I hear his breathing spike. I move my hair over my shoulder, looking back at him just to see his eyes glued on my ass.

I can’t help but smile, teasingly pulling up my shirt that goes past my belt. I know the second he sees it because he makes a sort of strained choking sound.

“So… you like it?” I look over my shoulder, tucking my shirt into my bra and watching his gaze being directed at the small of my back and most importantly, the ink on it.

In a daze, He hooks his fingers on my belt loops, pulling me closer and leaning down, “Do I- Fuck is that even a question?” His fingers drifting over the tattoo sends a shiver up my spine, “I’ve never been more turned on.”

I laugh as he spins me around and kisses me, it's rougher this time, his hands are more grabby and possessive. “I’m glad you like it.”

He kisses me again, “Like in an understatement.” He kisses me again, “I love you.” I giggle as he spins me back around and all but bends me over to get a better look.

“Lando!” His hand is grabbing my ass now.

“Shh, love. Let me enjoy my girlfriend’s ass that’s marked as mine.” He kisses the back of my neck, tugging at my hair as I bite my lip to keep myself from moaning.

“With all the hickies you leave on me, I'm always marked!” I turn around and slip my hands into his hair. I love his curls, even if they’re wet and falling into his face. “This is just more prominent, even if it is a bit hidden.”

His lips are on me once again, but he’s soft now, “I never thought you could get any hotter… Yet here we are.”

I smile, tugging at his shirt and standing on my tippy toes to face him, “I’m a woman of many surprises, Lan.”

He shakes his head, his green eyes so crystal clear while looking at me, “Let's go, I need a shower and a better look at this number on you…” His hair encloses over mine just as his lips meet my cheek.

I know he watches my ass as I leave. It's an even better feeling knowing that he’s staring at the same number his car is branded with.

[awearywritersworld]

tell me you don't want me

gojo satoru x reader summary: gojo adds falling in love with his dead best friend's little sister to the list of things that keep him up at night w/c: 1.8k tags/warnings: angst to fluff. gojo takes care of reader when they have a migraine. they watch shark week together, so shark haters beware. arguing, but nothing super harsh. protective!gojo. reader is referred to as a sister but there are no pronouns. gojo is around 27, reader 23. curse words. no out right smut, but a heavily suggestive ending so lets say 18+ a/n: i've been writing purely fluff for gojo, so it seems about time to return to my angst/fluff roots. today's epi made me had me feeling some type of way. may write a part two to this? idk lemme know what you think! masterlist check out my latest work for gojo here

after you arrived at jujutsu high as a first year, everyone wore the same expression when they looked at you, their eyes full of pity and apprehension. you really couldn't blame them though. after what happened with suguru, you were left a shell of yourself, paranoid that you were destined to the same fate as your older brother.

however, the boy that suguru called his best friend held something different in his gaze whenever his eyes fell on you. understanding, maybe? gojo knew that if there was anyone in the world who missed suguru as much as he did, it had to be you.

for most of the year, the two of you really only talked in passing, dancing around a discussion neither of you were brave enough to initiate. then your brother's birthday rolled around and you found yourself drenched in rain, sneaking into the boys' dormitory to knock on gojo satoru's door.

he wasn't surprised to find you standing there.

"that idiot always refused to let me celebrate his birthday," you blurted out, damp hair sticking to your forehead.

he laughed. it was just a breath, but it was still genuine. "right? he couldn't stand being fussed over for one day."

and as you both stood there, rain pattering against the window, you felt months of unspoken tension melt away. "well, come in. i bought cake."

after that day, gojo took on the roll of your older brother and he really leaned into it. flicking your forehead to annoy you, threatening anyone he thought had a crush on you, giving you advice whenever he deemed you needed it.

you weren't sure if he was aware, even after all these years, that he'd saved you— pulled you away from the brink. you became like the little sister he never had, while he tried his best to fill the hole suguru had left in your heart.

gojo spends more time in your apartment than his own, so it's no surprise when he barges in one afternoon, singing out your name (rather terribly, one might add).

"i have a migraine, 'toru," you groan from the couch, pulling the blanket up over your head as the bright light from behind his figure worsens your discomfort. all of your blinds are shut, the curtains pulled together. "can you please close the door?"

he hums, stepping inside and pulling the door shut quietly. "you seem to be getting them a lot lately."

"probably because i spend so much time with you," you whine facetiously.

he gasps, hand clutching at his heart. "i come all the way here to visit you, only to be ridiculed. my devastation is untellable."

after grabbing a washcloth from the linen closet, he pads over to the kitchen sink. you peer at him from under the blanket as he runs it under cold water, noting how the veins in his forearms become more prominent once he wrings it out.

you're laying across the entirety of the couch, but you scoot away from the edge and he situates himself in the space beside your hip, his body facing you. the corner of his mouth is turned down, evidence of the worry swirling in his chest. he presses the back of his fingers to your forehead before folding the cloth neatly and laying it there.

"you should mention the migraines to shoko," he suggests earnestly.

"they just flare up sometimes, you know that. it's really not a big deal."

"yeah, maybe.. but i still worry about you."

you can't help but notice how close he is and while it feels casual, it also feels... intimate? the cold cloth does bring some relief to your head, though you'd have preferred it if his hand had remained there instead.

"have you eaten?" he questions after a moment, pulling you from your thoughts.

"not yet."

"then i'll go pick up some food," he offers, rising to his feet. "do you need anything else-"

"no," you say a little too quickly, your fingers wrapping around his wrist. "i mean.. can you just stay?"

he suddenly looks very smug. "oh, what's this? are you sure spending more time with me won't make your head feel worse?"

you attempt to roll your eyes but the movement sends a sharp pain through your skull, causing you to grumble. "don't make me hurt you satoru. i was joking."

"i know," he smirks, decently self satisfied. "but you do have to eat, so-"

"there's leftover egg drop in the fridge, can you just warm that up for me please?"

"'course! anything for you, (y/n)-chan!"

his tone makes it sound as if he's teasing you, but he knows it's the truth. he's painfully aware that there isn't a thing you could ask of him that he'd deny. he tries not to think about that though, because he can't bring himself to admit what it all means.

once your soup is ready, he joins you on the couch. you move to sit up and while that makes plenty of room for him, he still lifts your legs, sitting so that they lay across his lap. one of his hands is resting on your shin, the other on your knee.

"shark week?" he suggests as you reach for the remote.

you nod eagerly. "yes."

the two of you have never fought before.

well, maybe that's not entirely true. it isn't uncommon for the both of you to argue over video games, the latest chapter of a manga, or other things of that nature. but you and gojo have never had a genuine disagreement.

that is, until you mention wanting to challenge a decision made by the higher ups. he's well aware of how they deal with people they deem troublesome, so he can't help the vexation that bubbles up in his chest at your words.

"absolutely not," he tells you. his voice is low, not one hint of amusement to be found.

the tone leaves you narrowing your eyes, and you sound a bit misbelieving when you ask, "what do you mean 'absolutely not'?"

after everything that happened with geto, the higher ups have been wary of you. honestly, they're probably just looking for an excuse to pull another stunt like the detention center and he can't risk that. he can't risk losing you.

rather than express any part of that sentiment, however, he just goes all stone faced and vague. it's weird, so naturally it's followed by a bit of back and forth that goes nowhere, the conversation growing unreasonably volatile with each passing second.

why can't you just listen to him? why can't you give him the benefit of the doubt? he's earned that by now, hasn't he?

"i don't understand!" you hiss, your chest heaving with indignation. "why are you acting like this?"

because i love you. because i need you. because you mean more to me than everything else in this world put together.

he can't possibly say that though.. can't lay his shame bare for you to see.. can't bring himself to admit the feelings he has for you.

he's in love with dead best friend's little sister and it's wrong. it keeps him up at night. claws away at his self respect.

"i'll take care of it," he promises, sounding a bit defeated. "just please stay out of it."

"quit treating me like i'm a child, satoru. you're not my father."

your assertion makes the air in the room shift, and the feeling that forms in the pit of gojo's stomach is not unlike a cord being pulled too taut before snapping.

"so what am i then, huh? what am i to you?" he interrogates, taking a step toward you.

his eyes burn with intensity and the conviction in his voice is dizzying, especially since it's meant only for you. he immediately notices the way you stiffen, suddenly unable to meet his eye.

he swallows thickly, any restraint he has left ebbing away once he hears your small, nervous voice. "'toru, w... what do you-"

you're cut off when he takes another step in your direction, your back meeting with the wall after you attempt to maintain the space between the both of you.

one of his palms presses to the wall beside your head, though the other remains at his side. he doesn't want to trap you there, not when he still doesn't have a clear idea of how you're feeling.

his breath fans across your face, your mind struggling to process what was happening. you whisper his name, unsure of how else to respond.

"i want you." he nearly chokes on the words, the pain of admitting them evident in his voice. "want you more than anything."

and he does. he wants you more than the sleep he never gets. more than he wants to honor suguru. more than he wants to be a good man.

his head dips down, your breath catching in your throat when his lips find the spot on your jaw just below your ear.

"please, tell me to stop," he begs, sending a shiver down your spine.

your hands move to his chest, the rise and fall of it uneven and sporadic. god, you make him so fucking weak it's almost pathetic.

his lips shift to your cheek, closer to your mouth, and his hand reaches up to cradle the other side of your face. he sounds irrevocably desperate now, "tell me you don't want me."

your heart's beating so loudly in your ear drums, you can hardly hear yourself speak. "satoru, please."

"please what?" he asks, and for a moment you're unsure of the answer.

you try to open your mouth once more, but the words are lodged in your throat. confusion and frustration rattle around in your head, making it difficult to string together your thoughts. finally you just give in, grabbing his face between your hands and pulling his lips against your own.

he let's out a strangled noise, some unknowable mix of pleasure and relief. his hands land on your hips at once, greedily pulling your body against his own.

his lips are chapped, but they're perfect in the way they move against yours. the kiss isn't clumsy, nor is it unsure. it's ardent and comfortable, as if it's the most natural thing in the world.

you pull away first, each of you holding the other's gaze. you're both hazy eyed, your mouths curved into giddy, lovesick grins.

gojo doesn't hesitate when you glance down at his lips, your words easing that bitter self loathing he'd been enduring for longer than he cares to admit. "if you want me... then make me yours."

taglist: @torusmochi @moonmalice

[runnning-outof-time]

Worth Breaking Plans For | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: yes by anonymous

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader

Summary: Tommy Shelby never thought he'd willingly go to see a ballet…that was until he found out that (Y/N) was performing in one. (Y/N) (Y/L/N) never thought she was someone worth breaking plans for…that was until Tommy came into her life.

Warnings: drinking and one bad word

Word Count: 4238

A/N: I’ve got another long one for ya here…the words just wouldn’t stop haha. This one was super fun to write. I hope I added enough ballerina elements for you, anon. If you haven’t got your fill by the end of it though, @padfootdaredmetoo has an amazing ballerina!reader series that you should check out! Enjoy! :)

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!

(Y/N) just barely had the time to take in her surroundings before she was having a flute of champagne thrust in her direction. "Here," the drink was accompanied by the words of her friend, Lou, "have a few of these and you'll be settled in in no time."

"Thank you," (Y/N) gingerly replied, accepting the glass and bringing it up to her lips so that she could take a sip of the bubbly liquid. She then smiled at her friends, who were intently watching for any microexpression she would share with them. "It's good," she told them, feeling a little silly for even saying that in the first place.

"Good," Julia affirmed, a smile present on her face as she watched her friend take another sip, "let's get into this party now!" she cheered, taking hold of (Y/N)'s hand so that she, and Lou, could lead her deeper into the establishment.

(Y/N) took that time to look around in awe. She hadn't attended many of these parties - as if that hadn't been obvious enough - and was eager to soak in every aspect of it that she could. Spending time with a few friends from her company at either her flat or a smaller venue was more her speed, but that didn't mean she wasn't excited to see the other half of the spectrum.

"Did you hear what Lou said, (Y/N)?" the sound of Julia's voice broke into her thoughts, making her focus on her friends again.

"I'm sorry, I didn't," she admitted, a sheepish smile present on her face. They'd been here for a handful of minutes now and yet there were details of the venue and revelry that she still hadn't caught onto. She didn't feel too bad for being lost in the atmosphere of it all.

"I was saying that I've gotten word about there being some rather prominent figures at this party," Lou repeated herself, a grin forming on her face.

"Prominent in what sense?" (Y/N) couldn't help but ask. She had a right to, considering that she and her two friends were members of one of the most prestigious ballet companies that ran in London and its surrounding areas. Technically they could be considered part of the 'prominent figures' being talked about.

"I've heard everything from entertainers, to politicians, and even..." Julia trailed off, glancing around before she leaned closer to the other two women, her grin growing as she went to finish off her statement, "gangsters."

"Why did you say it in that way?" (Y/N) couldn't help but giggle at her friend's delivery of the word.

"Because the thought of it is so utterly...interesting," Julia responded.

“And exhilarating,” Lou added.

"Wouldn’t it be fun to meet a gangster?" Julia finished off with a question, making Lou nod, a giddy grin present on her face as she added a few more words of agreement.

"Hmm...I suppose," (Y/N) aired more on the coy side of things, looking out at the sea of people that were attending the party. She found it slightly hard to believe that there were actual gangsters scattered amongst these innocent looking party-goers. Maybe it'd only be those fake kinds...like the ones you'd see in the pictures.

"Come on ladies, let's find ourselves a gangster!" Julia cheered, obviously not letting the distinction bog her mind down. She clapped her hands together before leading the other two even further into the venue.

(Y/N) took that time to do some more looking around, her eyes dancing from the band, to the extravagant decorations, to the many people who seemed to be having the time of their lives. Amidst the looking, her eyes stopped on a man...one who immediately stood out from the rest of the people she'd been watching so far. She couldn't help but let her eyes linger on him for a longer amount of time. He just looked so...interesting, for lack of better words, and she found herself entranced by him.

She let her eyes linger on him until Lou broke into her thoughts - yet again - this time going on about seeing a familiar face that she wanted to go speak to. So with slight dismay, she broke her stare and followed her friends.

"Ada Thorne! It really is you!" Lou exclaimed as the three women approached another one, who had brown hair and a well-dressed figure.

"Lou! It's so good to see you!" the woman replied in a similar fashion to the initial greeting, a wide smile forming on her face. "Goodness, you've brought friends as well," she added, her eyes focusing on the other two ladies.

"Yes, I have," Lou answered with a smile, "this is Julia and (Y/N), they're both in the same company as me," she then went about the introductions.

"It's nice to meet you ladies. Lou always goes on and on about the women she performs with...it's so nice to finally put some faces to the stories," Ada said, smiling as she spoke.

"So how have things been with you?" Lou then moved to the small talk portion of the conversation, her eyebrows raised as she awaited a response.

(Y/N) figured that she didn't really need to be a part of the conversation anymore, so she happily went back to people watching. Much to her upset, she couldn't find the man she'd been fixated on earlier, no matter how hard she looked for him. That didn't mean that she didn't still enjoy taking in her surroundings once more.

She stayed locked into her own world until the feeling of Julia jabbing her side brought her out of it. "Goodness, what's that for?" she asked her friend, her eyes snapping to the other woman as she sent her a glare.

"You've been in your own world while we're being introduced to someone here," she hissed, nodding her head to the left to indicate that someone else had joined the group in the meantime.

(Y/N) was a bit nervous to look, feeling bashful all of a sudden for not having proper party manners. But she had to look, because it quickly became apparent that the conversation wasn't going on without it. So she did, and the sight that was awaiting her made her mouth go dry in seconds. Standing before her was the man...the one that she'd been transfixed on earlier. She suddenly hoped that her jaw hadn't gone slack at the realization as she scrambled to think of something to say.

"You'll have to forgive me...I like to take in my surroundings whenever I'm able to," she said to the man, a sheepish smile forming on her face.

"All is forgiven," the man brushed her apology off without second thought. The gruffness in his voice moved her in ways that she truly hadn't been moved before. That, coupled with the intensity of his ocean blue eyes that were currently focused on her, made her feel like her knees could give out at any moment.

"My name's (Y/N). (Y/N) (Y/L/N)," (Y/N) then decided to introduce herself, figuring that the group had already gotten past that step and was waiting for her to catch up.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, (Y/N)," the man said with a slight, greeting-typed nod before continuing, "my name's Tommy. Tommy Shelby," he then offered up his name, along with his hand for her to shake.

"Pleasure to meet you as well, Tommy," she responded to him, accepting the handshake with a kind smile.

"Tommy's my brother," Ada then entered the conversation, making (Y/N) remember that there were others around her, and that she wasn't just standing by herself with this man. "He says he's in town on business, but I think he's come to keep tabs on me," she added, a grin forming on her face as she took a playful jab at her sibling.

"It's nice to meet you, Tommy," Julia offered a greeting similar to (Y/N)'s, which made her wonder if maybe introductions hadn't been completed yet.

"These ladies all belong to one of the finest ballet companies this city has to offer," Ada then gave her brother some more information on the women he'd just been introduced to, her words making Lou playfully chide her.

Small talk re-commenced then, and (Y/N) tried to stay with it for the sake of not making another awkward mistake. She found it hard to be completely focused though, because no matter what she did, she couldn't quite keep her eyes off of Tommy.

——

"Well this is a surprise," Ada remarked when she opened the door to find her brother on the other side of it.

"Do you have plans for this evening?" Tommy asked, deciding to skip the greetings and get to the reason he was standing outside her door.

"I don't," Ada, thankfully, answered without much thought, "is there something you need me for?"

"I need you to come with me," Tommy continued, fishing his watch out of its pocket so that he could make sure he was still on time.

"Where?" now she was answering like the Ada he knew.

"There's a show going on at the theatre...I wanted to go to it and figured you'd might want to come," he gave her some vague details.

"And what is this show exactly?" she asked, tilting her head to the side in a questioning manner.

"Just come with me, Ada," he answered in a dismissive tone, not exactly wanting to play twenty questions at this moment.

Ada pursed her lips, not happy that her brother was being abrupt with her. She took a few moments to think his proposal over, secretly loving how the wait was driving him crazy. "I'll come," she finally agreed to his plan, "just let me make sure that Karl can be watched first," she added, turning and going back into the house to find that live-in nanny and tell her that she was going out.

—

"I never thought there'd come a day where Tommy Shelby would willingly go to a ballet," Ada commented with a smirk as she and Tommy found their seats in the front row of the upper balcony. She'd been sending these little jabs his way since she got the program and realized what show he was bringing them to.

"Ada," Tommy spoke in a warning tone, having heard enough of her teasing.

"Fine, I'll stop," she conceded, although she was trying her best to withhold her giggles.

Tommy just shook his head and turned his attention to the stage's curtains. He could see from the corner of his eye that Ada had opened the program and started flipping through it. He was thankful that she'd now found something else to do. But he wasn't out of the woods just yet.

"Which of the ladies is it?" she asked after a few minutes had passed, her words making him turn to look at her with furrowed brows. "Of the women we met at the party...which one is it?" she added more clarification.

Tommy went to speak, but the house lights dimming stopped - saved - him from having to answer. A round of applause coursed through the theatre as the curtains were pulled aside and the performance began. Tommy spent the next hour or so keeping his eyes fixed on the woman he hadn't been able to rid his mind of since he last saw her at the party.

—

"Oh my, this is so lovely," (Y/N) cooed as she accepted the single flower and hand-drawn picture from one of the girls that had come backstage to meet her, "thank you so much!"

"I drew the picture myself," the girl boasted, her words making (Y/N) look at the picture to see that there were two ballerinas drawn on it: one bigger and one smaller. "I want to be a ballerina one day when I grow up," the girl added, a toothy smile forming on her face.

"You keep practicing and you may just be on stage with us one day," (Y/N) told her, an encouraging smile present on her face.

The group of girls said their goodbyes then, their mothers calling them back over so that they could leave. That was when (Y/N) looked up to see a familiar figure leaning against the wall not too far away. The breath got stuck in her throat as she became focused on him; feeling the exact same feelings she'd experienced at the party. Goodness, he just had this aura to him.

"Tommy," she hated that she said his name a little too eagerly, "I...I would have never expected to see you here," she couldn't help but voice her surprise.

"I was in town and figured I'd come to see a show," he brushed her statement off with a slight shrug of his shoulders after he pushed himself off of the wall to move closer to her.

"Did you come alone?" she just had to ask.

"No, Ada came as well. She went off to find your friend...Lou, I believe it was," he answered, glancing down at the items she was holding then. "Had I known you were accepting gifts, I would have brought one," he said, motioning to the flowers and bears she had in her arms.

"Oh no...that's not necessary," she brushed him off, trying to ignore the giddy feeling she was now getting in her stomach.

"You did well," he complimented her performance, tucking his hands into his pockets as he spoke.

"Thank you," (Y/N) accepted the compliment with a smile. She looked down at the things she was holding then, feeling the heat rise within her more with each second that they held eye contact.

"You know..." Tommy started, clearing his throat before continuing, "you should at least let me take you for a drink; since I came here empty-handed."

His words brought (Y/N)'s eyes back up to his in a flash, and he most certainly caught the look of surprise she was wearing before she tried hard to hide it. "Oh you don't have to do that," she tried to brush his offer off.

"No, I insist," he held steady, "it'd be a way to celebrate a successful show...my first ballet," he added, the final words of his sentence making her let out a stifled laugh.

"You're truly offering?" she checked with him before giving her final answer.

"I am," he nodded, a smile playing on his lips.

She had to bite back the smile that was threatening to form as she took a moment's pause. If she answered too soon, it would have looked like she was overly excited for this opportunity. "I'd like that then," she told him, hoping that her giddiness wasn't plastered clear across her face. "I need to quickly put these in the dressing room," she added, raising her arms slightly to call attention to the gifts she'd been holding.

"I'll be waiting here," he told her, nodding as she turned and walked towards the dressing rooms.

She was unable to get to them without being stopped by Julia first. "Is that the man from the party, (Y/N)?" her friend asked, her eyes swapping between (Y/N) and Tommy.

"It is," (Y/N) answered, again hoping that her giddiness wasn't too apparent.

"What's he doing here?"

"He's offered to take me for drinks," (Y/N) couldn't help but feel proud as she spoke.

A grin spread across Julia's face as she heard her friend's response, "oh so it's like that?" she questioned, wiggling her eyebrows.

"Not exactly like that," (Y/N) was quick to brush her off, "he's just being kind."

"You'll have to tell me all about it at rehearsals tomorrow...we'll see how kind he ended up being," Julia stated, winking as she put emphasis on the word 'kind'.

"It's not like that, Julia!" (Y/N) insisted, her eyebrows raised as she stressed her point in a harsh whisper.

"Don't keep your man waiting." (Y/N)'s statement was ignored, and Julia's grin only grew as she spoke, ending off with giving the other woman a friendly push towards the dressing room.

(Y/N) let out a huff as she went to quickly put the gifts she'd received down. She then hurried to get changed out of her costume before grabbing her things and heading out of the dressing room. Tommy was standing right where she left him, and she sent him a smile as she approached him. He asked her if she was ready, and she nodded, allowing the two to leave the theatre and go wherever they'd be having drinks.

—

Conversation came easily between the two as they settled in at the bar of one of the more prestigious clubs in the city. (Y/N) would have loved to look around and get lost in her surroundings but, well...she had more interesting things to look at.

They learned a good bit about each other as they sat and talked. (Y/N) told Tommy all about her rise to the company that she was dancing for now, and Tommy in turn told (Y/N) of how he made his way out of Birmingham, coming from nothing to now dealing with some of the heads of the business sphere. He also made hints at some other avenues that he's simultaneously working in, but didn't really elaborate on them. (Y/N) truly didn't need details though...she'd become so enthralled by this man that she was sure it'd take something dire to make her want to leave him.

So enthralled, in fact, that she did something that would be considered rather bold by her standards and invited him back to her flat for a nightcap. Tommy, who was also enjoying himself, accepted the invitation with no hesitation, then going to pay off their tab so that they could leave the club for the building she lived in.

Things transitioned more than smoothly to her flat. The shift in the energy between them became increasingly more noticeable the closer they got to the building, and neither said a word as they rode the elevator up to her floor, instead choosing to let their eyes do the talking as they held each other's gazes.

If she was being honest, (Y/N) couldn't wait much longer to get him behind the privacy of her door. The second she did, her hands found the lapels of his suit jacket so that she could bring him to her and press their lips together in a haste kiss. Tommy accepted it with a matched eagerness, holding her tight to his body as he deepened it.

"I'm sorry...that was a bit forward of me," (Y/N) panted once they'd pulled away. She couldn't mask the bashfulness that was coming on once her mind caught up to her actions.

"Don't apologize," Tommy told her, taking a chance to take in her features at this new closeness, "I quite liked it." A slight laugh left her lips as he finished speaking, one that sounded like music to his ears.

"Would you like something to drink?" she asked him then.

"Sure."

(Y/N) nodded before she glanced down to where she was still gripping his lapels. She exhaled a breath of a laugh before releasing them and smoothing them back to their previous state. Tommy let go of her waist then, and she quickly turned to head to the kitchen so that he wouldn't see her frown at the loss of contact. He followed her to the kitchen, not really wanting to leave her side either.

"Did you enjoy the performance today?" she asked him as she grabbed a bottle and two glasses.

"I did," he answered after having to recall how the night started. It felt like it happened so long ago at this point. "You didn't have much of a part in it though," he pointed out then.

"Yeah," she answered, a bit of a lopsided smile present as she went about pouring the drinks. "I did audition for the lead in our next show though..." she paused, sliding one glass towards him before she looked up with a smile, "and I got the part!" she couldn't help but voice her happiness to this man she'd only met a week ago.

"Yeah? When is the show?" he asked, genuine curiosity present in his voice.

"It's in two weeks. On the twentieth," a fire started to burn in her stomach at the thought of him coming to see her perform again.

"Fuck," he breathed as he looked down at the glass.

This was a response she was not expecting, and it confused her. "What? Is something wrong?" she asked, all of the excitement now gone.

"I'll be out of town that day, on business," he told her, his simple sentence effectively breaking her heart. Why had she gotten her hopes up?

"Oh," she couldn't help but voice her upset, glancing up at him before she took a drink.

She looked at him again as she set the glass down on the counter, trying not to let this turn of events spoil what had been an otherwise amazing evening. Hell, she had this insanely handsome man in her flat...who was she to stand around and mope over something she couldn't control? Tommy was taking that time to look her over too, and she couldn't help but love the feeling of his eyes on her.

"We still have tonight though..." she spoke again after a few moments had passed, keeping her eyes steady on him, watching his every move.

He let his eyes trail over her face again, taking in every inch of it. He licked his lips as he thought about the magnitude of her statement. "We do have tonight," he answered then, letting her lead the interaction.

She couldn't stop from biting on her bottom lip as she thought of how to word her next question. The energy coursing between them was almost palpable at this point, and she wondered how she was able to shift so quickly from disappointment to desire just by standing in his presence. It felt like ages before she spoke again, a hint of curiosity now sparkling in her eyes: "would you like to come to bed with me?"

Tommy didn't wait ages to give his response. He broke the distance between them in seconds, his hands finding the sides of her face so that he could pull her into a deep kiss.

The kiss alone buried the upset of him not being able to attend her performance, and if it was a precursor of what would come, (Y/N) knew that this would be a night she'd hold in her mind for years to come.

——

(Y/N) hadn't had a moment to herself since she exited the stage after final bows. She was being swarmed by the fellow ballerinas in her company, who were congratulating her on a wonderful show and already celebrating their collective performance. She didn't mind it though...she was buzzing from the high herself.

"You have a few fans waiting out in the hall to see you, Miss (Y/L/N)," one of the stagehands told her once she'd finished the conversation she was having.

(Y/N) nodded and allowed the man to lead her to the door that separated the backstage area from the rest of the theatre. He opened the door for her and she thanked him before seeing the same group of little girls that had been at her last show waiting for her. She greeted them with a wide smile, happily accepting their flowers and other gifts that they came back to bring her. After many hugs and a short conversation, she said goodbye and some words of encouragement.

Standing tall again, she looked ahead of her and found the last person she expected to. Tommy Shelby was there, leaning against the wall much like he had last time, but now he had a bouquet of beautiful red roses with him. (Y/N) went over to him without a second thought.

"I brought you flowers this time," he was the first to speak, raising the bouquet slightly to accentuate his statement.

"You...you did," she stuttered out, still not quite believing her eyes, "were...were you...?" She couldn’t get a complete sentence out. Not once in the times they’d met up over the last two weeks did he mention he was able to make it to her show - they hadn’t spoken about it after that night.

"I was," he answered with a slight chuckle, a smile forming on his lips at her shock.

"Please tell me you didn't cancel your plans for me."

"I did," he confirmed what she already knew, "you're worth breaking plans for, love."

The widest smile formed on her face at his statement, and she couldn't help but close the distance to wrap her arms around his neck in a tight hug. He chuckled at her reaction, holding onto her as tightly as she was holding him. "You did amazing," he mumbled into her neck before pressing a kiss to it.

"I'm happy you came," she said, holding back her emotions with a smile as she pulled away, "so happy," she added, her hands moving to his face so that she could kiss him.

Even though she’d just given what was surely the best performance of her career, (Y/N) couldn’t deny that she’d never felt happier than she did at this moment.

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @itscheybaby @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @acewritesfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @areyenotfondofmelobster @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @iambored24601 @shaddixlife

MASTERLIST

[cod-thoughts]

How far must i go to prove that i love you?

Word count: 6k

Relationships: GhostPrice, PriceGhost

Tags: PricGhostweek2024, love confession, Blow job, hand job, Ghost has dick piercings hehe, they're so in love, truly whipped its great.

This is for Day 1 of GhostPrice week: confession + Kneel and the title is what i was listening to while editing: "Mx Sinister - I dont know how but they found me"

Ghost swallowed; his throat suddenly tight. He’d never seen Price so relaxed, so at ease, and yet he looked right, like he belonged here. Against a kitchen counter as Ghost made him tea, warm from a fresh shower and relaxed. A kind of longing Ghost couldn’t name settled heavy in his chest, an ache that made him want to close the space between them, to pull Price close and tell him he didn’t want this to be temporary. Price noticed his gaze, eyebrows raising as he let out a soft laugh. “What’s with you then? Never seen a man out of a shower?” OR Ghost is so enamoured by a domestic and relaxed Price he blurts out his feelings and has to convince Price he does want this This is my first time writing actual smut please be kind oop 0_0 Keep reading under the cut or on AO3

The mission went without a hitch, for once, no bad intel, no secret mercenaries waiting for them and most importantly. No injuries. Ghost couldn't be happier with how it turned out because this meant they had an extra three days in the safe house. Technically they weren’t on leave, but they might as well have been.

The safe house was a modest, worn place—a dusty sort of charm that only Price would’ve found this endearing, raving on about how cozy and homey it felt. It reminded him of his cabin in the country-side apparently. Even Ghost found himself oddly settled by the familiarity of it. Today was their last full day in the safe-house and they already managed to slip into a comfortable rhythm, both of them falling into a rare, quiet routine that felt almost… normal, domestic in a way.

Price was in the shower, water pattering softly against the old tiles, and the faint warmth of steam drifted out into the narrow hallway. Ghost could hear the occasional clink as Price moved about, no doubt scrubbing his face and muttering about the “bloody water pressure.” A hint of a smile tugged at Ghost’s mouth, something barely there, but the comfort of the moment made him less guarded, even if it was just him in the kitchen.

It was strange, the ease with which they’d fallen into this—how simple it felt to share the silence, to just be here. Price’s footsteps, his quiet huff of laughter, the way he leaned against the counter with that small smirk Ghost had memorised. These were details Ghost never let himself hold onto, and yet here they were, filling him with a warmth that was as terrifying as it was grounding.

God, what he wouldn’t give to have Price with him like this all the time, soft and comfortable, the lines in his face smoothing over in his relaxed state, his laughter more prominent and not marred by the world they live in.

He’d finished heating up a tin of beans, stirring it absently before putting the lid on it to keep it warm, and set the kettle on for tea, knowing Price would be done soon. The small tasks felt grounding, almost domestic—there’s that word again, strange but, maybe, it was what had been playing at the edges of his mind for a while now. This rare ease, this strange new rhythm. Ghost found himself watching the steam rising from the kettle, a bit lost in the warmth that filled the air.

He wasn’t quite sure when it happened—when the lines between Price as a superior, a mentor, had blurred into something… more. It was a disquieting thought, one he’d been trying to keep at bay, though not with much success. And here he was, cooking up beans and making tea, so utterly settled in Price’s presence that the prospect of leaving, of returning to the job, made him feel something uncomfortably close to hollow.

He never imagined this was even possible for him. To be alive and wanting something so fiercely. To want a life outside of being a soldier. It was all he ever knew but as the kettle clicked and he made them a cup each, exactly how Price liked it, it hit him like a blow: this was it. This was what he wanted, more than he’d ever wanted anything.

The bathroom door creaked open, and Price emerged, towelling his hair. He’d discarded his usual gear in favour of an old grey t-shirt, soft and worn, that clung to his still-damp skin. He looked… ordinary. Beautifully ordinary. Ordinary was the wrong word entirely for that man, Ghost realised, because there was something extraordinary in the way Price took up space, in how naturally he filled the room.

There was something about Price that Simon couldn’t look away from, something that drew him in every time. It wasn’t just the way his shirt clung to the strong lines of his shoulders or the way his damp hair curled slightly at the ends—it was him. The way Price moved with such unassuming ease, filling the space without even trying. The quiet strength in the way he stood, the subtle command he carried even when he wasn’t speaking.

And his face. God, Simon could stare at it forever. The crinkle at the corners of his eyes that deepened when he smiled, the way his beard softened his jawline but couldn’t hide the sharp angles beneath. The ruggedness of him—like he’d been carved out of something weathered but enduring—made Simon’s chest ache with something fierce. And then there was that scent, familiar and grounding: the faint trace of cigars, soap, and something woodsy, something unmistakably Price.

It wasn’t just the physical, though that certainly left Simon weak. It was the way Price’s presence seemed to settle the air, how his quiet confidence made even a dusty, cramped kitchen feel like the safest place in the world. How he could glance at Simon with those piercing blue eyes and, without saying a word, make him feel seen in a way no one else ever had.

Simon realised, as he stood there, that he didn’t just want Price. He adored him. Every detail, every quiet moment, every laugh that felt like it was meant just for Simon. He wanted to keep this, to keep him—the man who somehow made even the most ordinary moments feel like home.

Simon didn’t realise he’d been staring until Price’s movement snapped him back to the present. He blinked, catching himself, but Price had already noticed, his gaze flicking toward him with a faintly amused tilt of his brow.

Price spotted the tea, grunted approvingly, and leaned back against the counter. “Bit of a treat, this. Thought we’d be stuck with the stale packs from camp.” He nodded toward the kettle, that subtle glint of humour in his eyes, as if a decent brew was the most luxurious indulgence he could imagine.

Ghost swallowed; his throat suddenly tight. He’d never seen Price so relaxed, so at ease, and yet he looked right, like he belonged here. Against a kitchen counter as Ghost made him tea, warm from a fresh shower and relaxed.

A kind of longing Ghost couldn’t name settled heavy in his chest, an ache that made him want to close the space between them, to pull Price close and tell him he didn’t want this to be temporary.

Price noticed his gaze, eyebrows raising as he let out a soft laugh. “What’s with you then? Never seen a man out of a shower?” His tone was light, teasing, but Ghost could see the slight furrow in his brow, as if he were trying to decipher what he was seeing in Ghost’s eyes.

Ghost’s mouth opened, then closed. He could feel the words pressing up against his chest, aching to escape, but he didn’t know if he had the right to say them. What if this ruined everything? What if he’d read all of this wrong? What if Price didn’t want this with Simon?

But looking at Price, standing there, comfortably out of uniform, looking so impossibly good and real, Ghost felt something snap. He couldn’t keep holding this back—not when every moment with Price felt like a promise he wanted to keep.

“I’m in love with you.”

The silence that followed felt both endless and instant. He watched Price freeze, shock flickering over his face as if he couldn’t quite believe what he’d heard. For a second, Ghost’s stomach twisted, instinct screaming at him to retreat, to act like it had been a mistake, a momentary lapse he hadn’t meant. But he couldn’t move, couldn’t take it back.

Instead, he stood there, unwavering, rooted to the spot by something stronger than fear. There was a sense of calm clarity in him, as if finally saying it—finally letting it go—was exactly what he needed to feel at peace. For the first time, he wasn’t hiding from what he felt, and it was terrifying, but also… grounding. This was his truth, as clear as any mission he’d ever undertaken. It was too much a part of him to deny, and he knew now, with a certainty he couldn’t ignore, that he wouldn’t take it back even if he could.

Price’s mouth opened, closed, the faintest line of vulnerability shadowing his face. “Simon… no. You don’t—” He stopped, eyes flicking away. “Why… why would you even say that?”

A part of Ghost had expected this. He’d seen how Price held people at arm’s length, always careful, always cautious with his own heart. But Ghost had spent enough time by his side to know that Price’s doubt was more than scepticism—it was insecurity. And knowing that broke something in Ghost, making him want to close the space between them, to make Price see himself the way he did.

Without thinking, he took a step closer, each movement slow, deliberate. He needed Price to understand. There was no question, no hesitation in his heart, and he wouldn’t let his own fear stand in the way of this. “Because it’s true, John,” he said softly, his voice filled with an intensity that surprised even him. “Because I mean it.”

Price shook his head, trying to look away, a faint, pained laugh escaping him. Ghost could see it, see the struggle on his face, the disbelief that anyone could love him like this, let alone him.

Ghost’s chest ached seeing Price struggle, watching the disbelief play across his face, the doubt that someone could love him, truly love him. He reached up, taking his mask off, wanting Price to see his whole expression. He cupped Price’s face in both hands, guiding him to look back, to look him in the eye.

“John,” he said, his voice low, steady, the words carrying a weight he’d never let himself show. “You’re not just my Captain. You’re the one person who’s… who makes sense to me. Every time I think about us, about this—it feels right.” He paused, his thumb brushing over Price’s cheek, the warmth of the touch grounding them both. “I’ve thought about it more times than I can count. Tried to fight it. But I can’t, not anymore.”

Price’s eyes searched his face, looking for any flicker of doubt, anything to convince himself that this was just a passing feeling. But Ghost didn’t let him turn away; he needed Price to understand how long he’d kept this inside; how much he wanted this to be real.

Every inch of him was screaming to make Price see that this wasn’t some twisted sense of duty or loyalty or a skewed understanding of the bond of brothers-in-arms. It was something that went beyond all of that, something he’d felt in every quiet moment, every time he found himself leaning closer, craving Price’s presence even when words went unspoken. And now, with Price standing here, with that soft shirt and his damp hair, looking so human and so his, Ghost knew he’d never be able to go back to pretending this was just camaraderie.

Price’s lips parted, a faint tremor in his voice as he asked, almost pleadingly, “Why me, Simon? Why would you…”

Ghost let out a shaky breath, his thumb brushing over Price’s cheek. “Because I want this with you, all of it,” He gestured around the cabin frantically, trying to convey what he means. “I want this to be our normal.”

“Why… why now?”

Ghost swallowed, the rawness of Price’s voice piercing through him, and in that moment, any doubt he’d had about telling him vanished. “Because I want this. With you. I want the quiet moments, the domestic nights on a couch. I want to wake up to you next to me-” He paused suddenly, his thumb tracing along Price’s cheek. “I didn’t know how much until I got a taste of a life with you outside of the 141 these past few days. I thought I could live without you knowing but I can’t. I want you, John.” He took a breath, his own voice rough but steady. “And if you don’t feel the same, I understand. But I needed you to know.”

The look in Price’s eyes was one Ghost had rarely seen before—unguarded, vulnerable, and full of a quiet yearning that had been hidden for far too long. And at that moment, he knew he’d made the right choice, that he’d do it all over again if it meant being here, standing close, telling Price everything he’d kept buried.

When Price’s hands moved up to Ghost’s face, mirroring his touch, Ghost could feel it—the release of years of restraint, the weight of unspoken feelings finally lifted. “You… you really mean that?”

Ghost nodded, the relief and quiet happiness flooding through him. “More than anything.”

There was a moment of silence, and then Price’s hands tightened on his face, grounding them both. “Alright,” he whispered, voice thick. “Alright… Simon.”

Ghost leaned in, their foreheads touching, each of them grounding the other. In the quiet, Ghost could feel it—all the years of restraint, the walls they’d kept up, finally crumbling as they found each other, both feeling, for the first time, what it meant to be truly together.

They stayed close, heads tilted together, letting the newness of it settle, feeling the gentle thud of their heartbeats in tandem. Then, almost as if on impulse, Ghost—Simon, now—leaned in, pressing a light kiss to Price’s forehead, then his cheek, and then another, barely brushing the bridge of his nose. Each kiss was soft, almost giddy, like he couldn’t contain the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Price let out a soft laugh, an amused huff as he tried to dodge Simon’s unrelenting affections, but he didn’t quite succeed, and it only seemed to encourage Simon further.

“Bloody hell, Simon, give a man a moment to breathe,” Price grumbled, though his voice was edged with laughter, his own smile finally breaking free as he watched Simon beam with a kind of unabashed joy he’d never seen from him before.

Simon chuckled, his lips still grazing Price’s face as he planted another playful kiss just above his eyebrow, and then another on his jawline, lingering a moment longer as his grin grew even wider. He was thoroughly enjoying the way Price looked slightly flustered, a bit pink around the edges.

“You’re a menace, you know that?” Price muttered, shaking his head even as his hands settled comfortably on Simon’s waist, holding him close.

“Oh, I’m a menace?” Simon quirked an eyebrow, his tone teasing as he brushed his lips against Price’s nose, a sly smile lighting up his face. “This coming from the bloke who said he doesn’t need shit like this. Look at you now. Practically melting,” he teased, his laughter warm, delighted, bubbling up from a place so deep it surprised even him.

Price chuckled, shaking his head. “S’pose I am, at that,” he admitted, his voice softening, a hand coming up to cup the back of Simon’s neck. He looked at him, taking in the joy in Simon’s eyes, the warmth in his expression, and for the first time, he allowed himself to relax fully, to let the happiness settle.

Then, with a steadying breath and a smile that was soft and sure, Price looked into Simon’s eyes, holding him close. “I love you too, Simon,” he murmured, voice quiet but unmistakably certain.

Simon’s face lit up with an almost boyish grin, and he pressed another series of kisses to Price’s face, each one full of relief, of warmth, of a happiness he could barely contain. He laughed, the sound bright, full of life, as he finally allowed himself to believe in this moment, in the closeness he’d longed for.

“You’re a bloody nightmare,” Price teased, laughing softly as Simon practically smothered him with affection.

“Think you’ll survive it?” Simon whispered, his tone playful but the sincerity in his eyes clear.

“Aye,” Price replied, his own smile unguarded, hands still resting firmly on Simon. “I reckon I will.”

They stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, laughter mingling with quiet promises.

As their laughter faded, Simon’s hand lingered on Price’s cheek, the warmth of his touch grounding them both. They stood there, close and quiet, the moment stretching between them, soft and unhurried. Simon’s gaze moved over Price’s face, taking in the lines he’d memorised a hundred times over in the field, but here, now, he allowed himself the luxury of just looking, of feeling.

Without a word, Simon leaned in, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to Price’s mouth this time, his hand slipping up to cradle the back of his neck. Price returned it just as slowly, the firmness in his grip telling Simon all he needed to know. There was an intensity in the way their mouths moved together—deliberate, deep, each kiss pulling them closer, as if the space between them was something they couldn’t bear.

Simon’s thumb brushed along Price’s jaw, and his other hand found Price’s waist, holding him steady as they leaned into each other. Price’s hand slipped up, fingers threading through the short hair at the back of Simon’s head, grounding them both, drawing him closer.

A low hum of contentment escaped Simon, their breaths mingling as he let himself get lost in the feeling of it—of them—no longer holding back. There was no rush, just the slow burn of realisation and a shared understanding, the unspoken promise that they were finally here, together.

When Simon finally pulled back, he stayed just a breath apart, his gaze fixed intently on Price, the weight of his affection clear in his eyes. His thumb brushed slowly along Price’s jaw, his touch confident, knowing, as he leaned in again, lips ghosting over Price’s in a way that was both teasing and familiar.

There was an unmistakable warmth in his gaze, a playful glint that Price recognised, but he wasn’t quite sure what to make of it in this situation. He felt his pulse quicken, as if somehow Simon had shifted the entire mood with just that one look.

“Y’know,” Simon murmured, voice low and steady, each word lingering in the space between them, “I could show you… just how much I mean it.”

Price’s eyebrows lifted, his mouth parting slightly as he tried to process the words, that quiet intensity in Simon’s voice leaving little room for doubt. Simon’s hands slipped down to rest at Price’s hips, steady and sure, anchoring him, but there was a spark of mischief in his expression, a challenge that was somehow both serious and playful.

Price opened his mouth to respond, to say something, but the words didn’t come, leaving him standing there, a bit off-kilter, entirely captivated by Simon’s quiet, unwavering confidence. He could barely believe that this was happening, that this was real, but the heat in Simon’s gaze left no room for uncertainty.

Simon chuckled and brought his lips firmly back onto Price’s, making him release a small gasp at how forceful Simon was being. God, that noise. It went straight to Simon’s cock, fuelling his arousal. He had to hear more, had to hear Price fall apart.

He shifted his hand on Price’s hip, moving under the thin shirt Price had on. Simon grabbed at the soft layer of fat around Price’s abdomen, groaning into the kiss. Fuck, he wanted to bite at the softness.

Using his hold on Price, he pushed Price against the counter, connecting their whole bodies together in a sinful grind. Their chests brushed against each other, and Simon could feel their hard nipples poking through their shirts, could feel Price’s arousal against the thigh he’d shoved between his legs, effectively pinning Price down.

He moved a hand into Price’s slightly damp hair and tugged on it, drawing another soft noise out of the man underneath him. It only added fuel to the fire being stoked within Simon. He shifted his hand to cup the back of Price’s neck, pushing his thumb into the junction of Price’s jaw, making Price gasp in response.

Simon licked deeper into Price’s mouth, claiming him. Pressing him harder against the counter, grinding into him and running his tongue over Price’s. The man keened, thrown slightly off balance, using his hold on Simon’s waist to hold himself upright.

Simon scraped his teeth against Price’s bottom lip, gasping before pulling away abruptly. He felt Price chase after his lips, but Simon placed his hand on his captain’s chest to slow him down. He brought their foreheads together, just breathing in each other’s air.

“Fuck, Simon. Been wanting this for so long, didn’t think it was allowed,” Price choked out, chuckling as if trying to hide his sincerity.

Simon moved his attention to Price’s jaw, laying kisses across his beard, letting the surprisingly soft hair tickle his lips. Moving to Price’s neck, he had to restrain himself from outright biting at the smooth skin in front of him. Instead, he nipped it teasingly, running the tip of his tongue over the tendon, feeling Price shiver against him.

Resigning himself to not actually marking Price, not yet at least, he started tugging at his shirt, trying to get it off. Simon knew he should separate from Price even a little bit to get the shirt off, but it was a monumental task when Price smelled so good.

He finally relented when he felt Price shaking slightly with laughter against him. Simon did not pout as he was forced to move away, and if he did, Price couldn’t see it, his vision shrouded by the shirt for a few seconds.

They’d seen each other in various stages of undress; this shouldn’t be as world-shattering as it was, but God was Simon savouring every single second he got to ogle shamelessly at a shirtless Captain John Price.

His hands roamed over Price’s chest, feeling the hair that was just as soft as he thought it would be, squeezing his chest, feeling Price jolt at the sensation.

“Didn’t think you’d be so sensitive when I pictured this.” Simon smirked as he pinched Price’s hard nipples with purpose this time.

“Ah!” Price hissed, pulling his chest away from Simon’s harsh treatment. “Didn’t know I was either, to be honest.”

“Are you really telling me no one’s paid attention to these before?” Simon breathed out against Price’s lips. “Because I can’t help myself, love. Not when I get a reaction like that.” He added with a nip to Price’s lips and another tug of his nipples.

“Fuck, Simon. That feels good,” Price muttered. “Never thought you’d touch me like this, never let myself picture it. Ah!”

“Well, that’s a shame. I’ve thought about this for years, Captain. Thought about you under me, on top of me, thought about you inside me, about tasting you.” Simon said as he pressed fervent kisses and small bites over Price’s chest before finally actually biting him and sucking right above his left nipple, fulfilling that desire to mark him.

“Ah, shit! You menace, should’ve known you’d be a biter. Can’t say I’m complaining, though.” Price threaded his fingers in Simon’s curls, pulling him away from his chest and bringing their mouths together again, like he couldn’t resist it, before pulling back, murmuring, “Please tell me this isn’t a one-time thing. Please, Simon, you have to—I can’t do this once and forget about it.”

Simon’s gaze softened, his hand coming up to brush along Price’s cheek. “This isn’t a one-time thing, Price,” he murmured, his voice steady and sure. “I’m here because I want to and because I love you. One day, you’ll truly believe me.” He held Price’s gaze, letting the words settle, feeling the faint tension ease from Price’s grip.

Price swallowed, still searching Simon’s face, the lingering doubt flickering in his eyes. But Simon only smiled, slow and sure.

He leaned in close, his lips ghosting over Price’s in a barely-there kiss. “Let me show you, yeah?” he whispered, his voice warm and earnest. “Prove to you how much I want this. How much I need this.”

Simon slowly lowered himself to his knees, trailing his hands down Price’s chest to his thighs. Settling into a comfortable stance, Simon just sat there, on his knees in front of his Captain.

Price was speechless; he didn’t think Simon had it in him to be so bold, but he couldn’t complain—not when those doe eyes were looking up at him like he held all the answers to everything Simon could ever want.

Finally on his knees, Simon pressed his face into the bulge of Price’s jeans, savouring the feel of him. He had to get his mouth on him properly, and soon.

Simon pressed his mouth to the bulge in front of him. “Fuck, John,” he muttered to himself. “Can I? Please?” he asked, looking up at Price again.

How was Price supposed to say no to that?

“Yes, fuck, yes, Simon, whatever you want, darling.”

Simon began unbuckling Price’s belt, then his jeans, he started pressing open-mouthed kisses through Price’s underwear, he wanted to tease Price; to really rile him up but his own desperation won over and he tugged them down and pulled out Price’s cock.

Simon resisted the urge to get his mouth around it instantly, wanting to get a proper look at the picture Price made. God, but he looked good

Leaning against the counter, face and chest flushed, Simon’s bite from earlier was darker too. Simons eyes traced the flush all the way to Price’s trim waist before going further. His belt and jeans were hanging open, held up by strong, thick thighs that Simon couldn’t wait to get in between of. His underwear was pushed down revealing, in Simon’s opinion, the prettiest cock he’s ever seen. He never thought he’d ever describe a cock as pretty, but John Price never ceases to surprise him.

The head was flushed and slightly wet from pre-cum and Simon’s spit, the shaft thick with prominent veins running along it with a neat bush at the base. His balls resting against the waistband of his underwear and Simon had to stop himself from actively drooling.

Pulling himself out of his reverie and silently promising to himself that he’d take his time and worship Price properly another time, he shuffles closer so he’s really at eye-level with Price’s cock.

Slowly, his tongue poked out and dragged up the underside of Price’s cock, swiping across the head with extra care. Simon wanted to make sure he tasted every centimetre. Price threw his head back and clapped a hand over his mouth to muffle the, frankly, whorish sound that feeling and visual managed to drag out of him.

Simon sat back on his heels. The position caused his trousers to stretch across his aching arousal, showing Price just how much this was affecting him.

“I want to hear you, don’t hide from me, love. There’s no one here, it’s just us.” Simon pleaded.

Price relented and removed his hand from his mouth and instead he brought it down to rub his thumb along Simon’s bottom lip, almost reverent in his touch. Simon gave his thumb a teasing nip before pulling away and repositioning himself. Too desperate to tease Price further.

He chose to wrap a hand around Price this time and squeezed gently, just feeling his arousal in his hand. He hummed at the responding groan he got before stroking up as much as he could and back down. The dry pull only heightened Price’s sensitivity, and he bucked into the unforgiving drag.

Simon brought his face down towards Price’s cock but bypassed it and instead started licking at the base before moving his tongue further down and licking around Price’s sack.

When Price looked down Simon’s eyes were glassy and looking up at him with so much adoration his cock pulsed against Simon’s cheek at the sight below him.

Simon couldn’t help himself; he gasped at the feeling of it against his face, twitching and beading with pre-cum from some light teasing.

Finally, he pulled himself together and he guided his face to the tip of Price’s cock and brought it into his mouth. Humming at the taste of his Captain on his tongue.

Price above him moaned loudly and was rewarded instantly for his efforts. Simon’s pupils widened and he started bobbing his head slowly bringing more of Price’s cock into his mouth. He made it nearly halfway to the base before softly gagging and pulling away a bit to go back to laving his tongue around the head.

Simon hadn’t done this nearly as much as he wanted to and he regrets not being able to take Price all the way down his throat the way he wants to, to savour the stretch, knowing all his senses would be surrounded by Price. Maybe he could convince Price to let him practice? Judging from the noises above him, he doesn’t think there will be much protest.

Pulling off he let a string of saliva connect his lips to the head of Price’s cock for a few seconds before it broke off, not missing how Price twitched at the sight. He brought his lips back to the base of Price’s cock, licking around it and pressing kisses to it. Simon couldn’t help how the musky smell that lingered even after Price had showered affected him. He’d always loved how Price smelt, cigars, sweat and aftershave, but here? It was a completely different experience.

“Simon, you feel so good, love. Not gonna last long with you down there.” Price warned.

Simon hummed before wrapping his lips back around the head of Price’s cock, eliciting a choked-out moan from the man above him. He tongued at his slit, wanting to get more of Price’s taste in his mouth.

He spent a few minutes just using his mouth to pleasure Price before he brought his hand to the base to jerk off the rest of what he regrettably couldn't get in his mouth. His other hand was rubbing and squeezing anywhere he could reach from this position. He slowly trailed his hand up towards Price’s chest, pinching at his nipples and squeezing his chest, thanking his towering frame for being able to reach.

He felt Price twitch in his mouth every time he scratched, pulled, pinched or squeezed his body.

He’s so lost in the sensations that when Price gasps and says, “Simon,” all ragged and breathy he realises that Price is about to come in his mouth and is trying to warn him off.

That just won’t do. He just moans and pushes as far down as he can without gagging and sucks harder, suddenly desperate to have his mouth full of what Price really tastes like.

“Simon,” Price gasps again from above him. “I can’t—fuck! Shit! Stop, love, I’m gonna—”

Then Simon feels Price’s hips twitch, can feel him pulsing in his mouth before its filled with the salty-bitter taste of Price’s orgasm. He moans and swallows as much as he can, but some still escapes around the sides of his lips. He keeps sucking and bobbing his head until Price is pulling him away by his curls, panting above him.

Price pushes off the counter and drops to the floor in front of Simon startling him slightly before using the grip he has in Simon’s hair to tug him forward and kiss him. Simon’s lungs burn as Price steals his breath away, groaning as he tastes himself on Simon, licking the stray drops from his mouth.

He pulls back resting his forehead against Simon’s. “So, fucking good,” he pants out. “Gonna take care of you now, love, gonna make you feel good too. That what you want?”

Simon nods his head furiously, knocking their foreheads together. He moves to bring Price into a deep kiss again, his hands running over every inch of his body.

Not having touched himself at all yet he felt Price reach down towards his trousers, unbuckle them and snake his hand into his underwear. He didn’t think to warn Price, but he felt him gasp against his lips, pulling away, a look of shock across his face.

“Are you fucking pierced?”

Simon couldn't help but let out a laugh at that, “Yeah, I got them a couple years after Roba, wanted my body to feel like my own again,” Simon paused to gauge Price’s reaction who was looking at him in disbelief. “They a problem? I can take them out?” he added timidly.

“You’re kidding right? Fuck, as if you could get any more perfect. Can I touch them? Do they feel good?” Simon blushed at Price’s words.

“Yeah, feels really good.”

“Hmmm can’t wait to find out how good they’re gonna feel inside me.” He whispered into Simon’s ear making him gasp and moan at the thought of Price on his back, legs around his waist, or straddling him, or bent over. Fuck, anyway he could have him, really.

Price tightened his hand back around Simon’s cock, stroking upwards before pulling his hand away, spitting on it and bringing it back around Simon, twisting his hand when he reaches the tip.

Price moves to pay attention to the five piercings across the underside of Simon’s cock. Twisting the barbell that was threaded through each one, from his frenulum to the Jacobs ladder leading all the way down. Price kept going from stroking his entire length to paying special attention to the piercings and oh, fuck, that feels really fucking good.

“Faster, please!” Simon cries out, he didn’t realise how close he already was just from sucking Price off.

Price pulls Simons cock out of his pants and spits on it directly making the man under him keen.

“God look at you. Need to feel you inside me, Simon.” He pants into Simon’s mouth.

They’re not quiet kissing anymore, just breathing into each other’s mouths, making each other dizzy from the lack of oxygen. Price pulls back to lick and nip at Simons neck, knowing that his balaclava will cover up any marks he puts there, he doesn’t have to hesitate. Biting and sucking wherever he pleases, relishing in each broken sound it draws out of the man.

Simon’s hips stuttered and he fucks his cock into Prices fist. Moaning unabashedly at how good it feels. He’s never this vocal but Price’s fist and his presence is enough to make him feel like he’s on cloud nine, he always felt like he could let go around the man with no negative consequences.

Simon kept fucking his cock into the tight and slick fist around him, running his hands all over Price’s body, feeling the hair on his chest, the solid weight of his muscle beneath. He couldn’t believe he was able to touch him so freely. The thought made him even more frantic.

“Price, fuck! John, please, please, don’t stop. I’m so close John, please. God!” He gasped out.

“You gonna make a mess all over me, Simon? Yeah? Go on, love. Let go. Let me feel you.”

Simon, like the loyal soldier he is, couldn’t deny his captain anything and with a thrust of his hips and a twist from Price’s wrist he’s gone.

Crying out John’s name, curses and “Please, don’t stop! Feels so good!” He rides the wave of his pleasure for what feels like hours before he shivers and slumps forward onto Price’s shoulder. Panting and sweating like he ran a marathon before he looked down and groaned at the sight.

Price’s fist was covered, still pumping him gently making Simon jolt with overstimulation. He grabs Price’s wrist to stop him, gently coaxing him off. Price smirked at him and brought his hand up to lick at his fingers, holding Simons shocked expression as he did so.

Price barely got a taste before he was being shoved backwards and kissed within an inch of his life. Simon pulled back and loomed over him, his dark gaze hungry despite just finishing.

“Wanna take this to an actual bed?” he murmured into Price’s neck.

“Oh? I thought you’d get it out of your system, and you’d be done.” Price smirked knowing now how much Simon meant those words he said to him earlier.

“We’re just getting started.” Price shivered at that, eagerly anticipating what comes next.

“Well then, lead the way.”

[a-court-of-fics-and-errors]

Keep Moving Forwards, Part 41

Azriel x Reader Fic

Summary: After finally deciding to leave your abusive and manipulative mate for good, you find unexpected companionship with Azriel, the Shadowsinger of the Night Court. As you navigate the aftermath of your traumatic relationship, you struggle to understand where the mating bond went wrong and contemplate your path forward, vowing never to return to the past.

Find other parts here: Master List

To follow this fic, follow tag "Keep Moving Forwards Fic" or comment to be tagged in future parts.

Content Warning: This story contains depictions of extreme emotional manipulation and abuse, detailed descriptions of direct physical abuse, and scenes of men hunting women with implied sexual assault. Please read at your own risk.

Word Count: 2.4K

Author's Note: This is a multi-part series. Unlike my previous works, this fanfiction delves deeper than just fluff, exploring complex emotional landscapes. As I navigate this new writing journey, I kindly ask for gentle feedback. The topics addressed are profoundly impactful, touching many lives with diverse experiences. Please be gentle with yourselves and others. Healing is a journey, and everyone processes it differently. Be kind to yourself. Take what resonates, and leave what doesn’t.

Please continue reading, being aware of the above content warnings, ensuring you are in a healthy headspace. Give yourself time to process and be gentle with yourself.

As the cold grip of winter finally released its hold on Velaris, the city bloomed with vibrant colors and new life. Two months had passed by in a blur for you, filled with countless projects and community growth initiatives. Your first group home for struggling parents and their children had officially opened, and it was met with resounding success. The pride that shone from Azriel's eyes as he stood by your side at the grand opening was palpable.

Working closely with Titania, you continued to build relationships between yourself and other pleasure makers who were hesitant to come out of the shadows and seek help. You delved deeper into the underbelly of Velaris, learning about the social pressure that kept pleasure houses sequestered in the darker parts of the city. Even healers refused to see them, dismissing them as unworthy patients. But with your determination and aid, a low-income health clinic was established within one of the homes you built. It became a vital resource for pleasure makers to receive personal healthcare and get their children checked up during their early years.

Everything was thriving - your projects, your community, and most importantly, yourself. Your mate remained quiet as always, but you felt content in your life. Though you still avoided large court events out of fear of seeing Philip, whom you refused to acknowledge as your father, you continued to hold meetings with High Lords to build their own resilience within their territories.

As Nesta's pregnancy progressed, her body swelled with the changes. She was plagued by early pregnancy symptoms: every part of her seemed to be inflamed, she couldn't even fathom the thought of food without feeling nauseous, and she was constantly exhausted. But despite all of this, there was a newfound brightness and happiness emanating from her. Her skin glowed with a radiance, her hair shone like spun silk, and her mood had improved greatly. In the midst of all this, you made it a point to set aside one day each week to spend the entire day with her. Cassian, on the other hand, pleaded with her to stop training with the Valkyries. This led to a heated argument that resulted in Cassian sleeping on the couch of the townhouse. However, as Nesta's baby bump grew more prominent and her usual training leathers no longer fit comfortably, not to mention the rising temperatures in the training ring, she began spending more time sitting on the sidelines and helping young females with their centering and breathing techniques.

—

Nesta stood next to you, her shoulders slumped in frustration as she stared at the wall. It was split down the middle, with two shades of green that were barely distinguishable from each other. Her hands were planted firmly on her hips, her long fingers tapping impatiently as she sucked her lip between her teeth.

"So," you began, studying the two shades of green before you. "What did you need my opinion on?"

She gestured towards the wall, her index finger hovering between the two shades. "Which one?"

You glanced at her and then back at the wall, trying to discern the difference between the two shades. "Which color?"

Nesta let out a frustrated sigh, taking a step closer to the wall. With a flourish of her hand, she pointed to one side. "Sage green?" Her finger then slid over to the other side. "Or Brush green?"

You furrowed your own brow, trying to make a decision based on such subtle variations. Nesta's fuse was getting shorter by the second, and you knew your response needed to be quick. "I think the sage looks nice," you replied tentatively, mustering up a small smile.

Nesta stepped back to survey both shades again. "Are you sure?" she asked with doubt lacing her voice.

You nodded, but without much confidence behind it. Suddenly, the entire wall shifted and transformed into just one shade of green, thought if she asked you if the color was sage or brush you wouldn’t have been able to tell. Nesta looked back at you, running her tongue over her teeth as she considered the new look.

"You don't think it's too green?" she asked, eyes searching your face for an answer.

You struggled to form an answer. To be honest, green was just...green to you. The subtle differences in shades didn't seem all that significant in this moment. "I don't think so," you offered tentatively.

Nesta didn't even spare you a glance as she considered your words. Your opinion held little weight in her mind, and you were well aware of that fact. Her own opinions were firmly solidified and what she really needed was someone to validate them.

"I think I hate it," she declared, her decision final. "Let's try the cream again." And with that, the house washed over the wall once more, painting it a light cream color for Nesta to scrutinize once again.

With a sigh, you spun on your heel and made your way over to the rocking chair that Cassian and Azriel had spent the last two hours putting together. Despite their efforts, there were still some doubts in your mind about the stability of the chair, especially since Azriel had pointed out that they had initially put the legs on backwards and had to redo their work. And if that wasn't enough, you were pretty sure the armrests were also attached the wrong way. You kept this thought to yourself, knowing how hard they had worked on it.

Nesta took a few cautious steps back, her hand resting gently on her swollen stomach. She closed her eyes and let out a small moan, her fingers grazing over the soft knit of her cream-colored sweater. With her other hand, she rubbed her lower back in search of relief from the pain that typically lingered in her body now.

"I also like the cream color," you chimed in, pulling your legs up onto the rocker with you. You reached for a blanket that was sitting nearby, admiring the delicate embroidered flowers that adorned it. You knew it was Elain's handiwork - she always seemed to have a new hobby she was mastering. As you let your fingers trace over the pinks and greens of the design, you couldn't help but wonder if someday she would make an embroidered blanket for your own babe.

Nesta's frustrated groan snapped you out of your daydreaming as she turned towards you. "None of it looks right," she complained, gesturing towards the various swatches of fabric and paint samples scattered around the room. "The green clashes with everything, the cream is too plain, and there’s no way the blue works in this room." You weren't entirely sure what she meant by a color "working", but you nodded along in agreement nonetheless.

Her gaze drifted towards the wooden box sitting in the corner as she let out a loud grumbling groan, "Cassian was supposed to build the crib this morning before he left." You craned your neck to look at the large wooden crate adorned with a crudely drawn image of a crib.

"I can do it," you offered, turning back to Nesta who was now staring at the wall.

She waved a dismissive hand, "No, no," she insisted. "Cassian made a promise and I intend to hold him to it."

You couldn't help but smile and bite your lip to suppress a laugh. You knew that Cassian was in for a tongue-lashing when he returned home, but you suspected that he and Azriel were most likely hiding somewhere in the War Camps or deep in the woods. You remembered Cassian admitting to you at a family dinner once that he would rather be covered in mud and shit than face Nesta's wrath.

In a calmer, more soft voice, you offered, “It’s all going to look great, Nesta.”

Nesta's hands instinctively went to her belly, cradling it protectively. She let out a deep sigh before sitting down on a nearby wooden crate with a drawing of a changing table on it. Her face fell into her hands, her fingers tangling in her disheveled hair. You could see the exhaustion and stress etched on her face as you folded up the baby blanket and set it aside.

"Is it just about the nursery?" Your question hung in the air as Nesta turned away from you, staring at the paint-splattered ceiling. You folded up a soft blanket and placed it next to you on the side table, trying to catch Nesta's gaze.

But she seemed lost in her own thoughts, detached from reality. "I don't want to assume anything," you said softly, "but I need to know if this is really about paint colors or if there's something else bothering you."

Nesta's eyes remained fixed on the ceiling, the weight of her thoughts causing a heavy silence to fill the room. "I just want everything to go well," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Want what to go well?”

"I want this pregnancy to go well. I want our baby to be healthy. I want to be healthy." She placed a hand on her stomach and let out a bitter laugh. "I never cared about any of this before. Paint swatches, burp cloths. But now, it's all I can think about."

You had figured as much. As much as she tried to play it off as hormones and nesting, you and Nesta both knew that all of this stress was about something more, something deeper.

"It's going to be okay," you reassured her. "Your baby will be fine."

Nesta nodded, but you could tell she didn't truly believe it. Her eyes flickered down to her stomach, where her precious bundle was safely nestled. "I know," she said, but there was no conviction in her words.

"You're still nervous," I finished her sentence for her.

Immediately, Nesta shook her head, as if trying to deny it. But her shaky denial only confirmed my suspicions. Her lip trembled as she bit into it.

“Hey,” you offered her, “It’s okay to be scared.” You stood, walking over to her, your feet crinkling sheet on the floor Nesta had insisted Feyre lay down when she painted the closet door. You came to crouch in front of her, your hands taking her own as you tried to catch her downturned gaze. "No one expects you to have everything figured out right now."

Nesta’s grey eyes met yours and you could see the slight tears building on her lower lid.

"Do you want to talk about it?" You asked gently. "What's on your mind?"

After a moment of hesitation, Nesta sniffled and opened up. "I'm afraid of losing them," she admitted, tears now falling freely down her cheeks. "I'm afraid of what will happen after they're born. I'm afraid that I won't be a good mother, or even a decent one." You listened quietly as Nesta's fears poured out. Her doubts and insecurities about motherhood, about the baby, about herself. "I don't want them to hate me," she sobbed, clutching at her stomach. "And I'm scared that all are going to look at me and think I’m just like my mother."

You gave Nesta the space to mutter out her incoherent inner thoughts, all of them crashing out one after the other as she heaved out sob after sob. All you did was nod, hold her hand, and hold that space with her.

Eventually, she looked up at you with tear-stained eyes.

"That must be really hard," you said softly, squeezing her hand gently. "I wish I could take away your fears."

Nesta sniffled and chuckled. "Yeah, me too."

"Let me tell you something," you said firmly, holding her gaze. "You are going to be an amazing mother. And you know how I know that?" Nesta's lips quirked into a small smile despite the tears still lingering on her cheeks.

"Why?" she asked softly.

“Because you’re worried about it now.” Nesta laughed lightly as she glanced down to the floor. “Terrible mothers don’t worry if their children will hate them, or if people will judge them for how they parent.” You laughed, “And I also know that this baby is going to be so incredibly loved by you and Cassian, and all of us. Because you’ve worked so hard to bring them into the world, that you won’t be able to do anything but shower them with more love than their little heart can take.”

You met her gaze again as she smiled, her lip trembling. “You’re going to cheer them on when they succeed, and hold them when they’re sad, and you’re going to teach them how to breath through their fears and face them.” You squeezed her hand tenderly. “And Cassian,” you shrugged, “He'll probably be the reason they come home with a few bruises or scrapes, but he'll also be the reason they never back down from a challenge. They'll learn to laugh in the face of fear because they know their mom and dad will always have their backs."

You couldn't help but smile as you looked down at her growing belly. "This little one already has so much love surrounding them," you said, squeezing her hand. "And they'll know even more love from you because you are going to be an amazing mother." As Nesta wiped away her tears as you continued, "You'll never be like your own mother, I promise. You've experienced firsthand the pain of growing up with her and you will use that knowledge to be the best mother possible for your baby." Your voice softened, "That's not to say there won't be mistakes. You might get frustrated and raise your voice, or say things you don't mean. But most importantly, Nesta, you would never hurt them. Never ever." You locked eyes with her as she nodded, with more confidence than she had before.

"You're going to be a fantastic mom, and you have a whole family who believes in you," Nesta sniffled and nodded, wiping her nose with the back of her sleeve.

"And if Feyre can handle being a mom, then surely you can too," you teased, earning a genuine laugh from Nesta.

"Hey now, I'm just stating facts," you shrugged playfully. "But let's be real, there's no way your little sister could out-mom you," you joked as the two of you laughed together. The two of you sat there for a moment, giggling with one another, hands clasped together until you settled back on the floor, gazing up at the ceiling. "Oh, by the way," you broke the silence, "I have no idea what color would look good in here, but I do know this ceiling color reminds me of something that comes out of a baby."

Nesta's glorious laughter that echoed throughout the room and probably down the entire mountain to Velaris.

Readers, just made myself vomit with that, good god that was sappy:

@thatacotargirl @mcuamerica @lilah-asteria @that-one-bibliophole

@weepingwerewolf @caninnes  @loglady00 @skylarkalchemist @darling006 @sleepylunarwolf @acourtofbatboydreams @quiettuba @julesofvolterra @fightmedraco @marvelbros-oneshots @mariahoedt @quinzzelx @romantasyreader28 @minnieoo @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @annabethgranger123 @krowiathemythologynerd @scatteredstardustt @romantacyreader28 @caroline-books @slytherintaco @sevikas-whore @sidthedollface2

[this-is-a-podcast-fanblog]

welcome to night vale kind of sucks

I can't believe I'm doing this again but here goes: I'm writing a call out post for the behaviors made by my favorite podcasters. I love Night Vale. Let me make that clear. My whole blog is Night Vale. I've cosplayed Night Vale. I've been in this fandom for eight years, and I've been holding out hope that the show will become "good" again for a long time. I've been a fan while simultaneously acknowledging some of their very harmful behavior. But this last episode just really cemented for me how the issues with their writing are not just failures of plot and theme, they are actively harming the communities that support them. Night Vale has turned from the show that canonized a queer relationship in 2013 and celebrated its thousands of fans, to something devoid of passion and almost unrecognizable in its messaging. These issues have been present for a while, but now they are everywhere in the show. They're completely overwhelming.

Why did an abused person not only forgive their abuser and say that he was "doing the best he could"? No, really - we had an entire season about generational trauma, a deeply personal topic for many people, and then you paint an abusive father as "misguided"? It's a slap in the face. Why do prominent female characters, particularly antagonists, always get either killed off or written out of the story by... ascending into the stars I guess? (So Lauren's the most powerful foe ever but then she's defeated by six people telling her they don't like her. Cool cool.) Why did the writers deradicalize a Black woman whose original story was about her courage and opposition to authority? Why was Tamika's role this season to be a caretaker for The Boy instead of her position in local government? Why is there only one recurring trans character in the show?

The worst thing of all for me though is the partnership with Betterhelp. Betterhelp, which sells people's data and has been called out for it time and time again. There was no excuse for them to take this sponsorship, especially when, oh yeah people were calling it out for endorsing conversion therapy. There are doctors on Betterhelp who have OFFERED CONVERSION THERAPY, and that's who they're promoting to their majority queer audience. But there's especially no excuse for this sponsorship when BetterHelp is collaborating with the Israeli Occupation Force. When Betterhelp is publicly associating itself with the army that burns people alive, that bombs hospitals, and is actively colonizing Palestine.

And before anyone says, "Mercury, why are you only writing a call out for the Betterhelp thing now after you didn't like this episode?" Well, I've been publicly calling them out for MONTHS over this. I've replied to almost every episode's Q&A to tell them they need to stop this partnership as well as replying to them on their socials asking why they're still working with this company.

Plus, this isn't just me disliking this episode - I'm seeing posts on the wtnv tag from abuse survivors who got extremely triggered by this and it just breaks my heart. Genuinely, why did they do that? This arc had such beautiful and introspective writing about parenting and it feels like they just threw it all away.

I don't know what note to end this on. I really hope they take their hiatus to reassess some business practices and write a better season. And mostly that they stop partnering with Betterhelp.

@nightvaleofficial

[tsukimefuku]

The morning after is still last night

After last night, you and Higuruma share a brief pillow talk.

Tags: Jujutsu Kaisen, mentions of sex, Higuruma x f!reader, this is fluff.

WC: 800

This is part of my "Jujutsu Partners Canon Divergence AU", a sequence of short stories and random drabbles for a Nanami x f!reader x Higuruma fanfic I'll eventually write (eventually). This is the sequence to "The man who played with fire", link here. To see the ever-growing list of one-shots, please visit my masterlist :)

Disclaimer: they’re NOT written and posted in chronological order of events. To see where this story fits in the timeline, please check the masterlist mentioned above.

Higuruma was awakened by the faint stream of light that bled through the curtains and projected onto his face delicately. He was coming to his senses slowly, and realized he was still naked under the bedsheets. Looking by his side, he saw you laying down with your back facing him. He smiled discreetly, realizing you had spent the night — Higuruma was unsure if you’d do so, given you were prone to avoidance, overall.

Examining your back solely with his eyes, he noticed a prominent scar right in the middle, over your spine. It was oval-shaped, and it extended in a straight line to the right side of your back, stopping abruptly. It seemed to have been done by a blade of some sort. Before he realized, his fingers were caressing over it, pulling you gently awake.

“Hey,” you cooed, rolling on your side to face him, “good morning.”

“Good morning.” Higuruma answered, gazing at you before putting his hand over your cheek. “It seems you slept here.”

You smiled at him, putting your hand over his. “I didn’t feel like going back home in the middle of the night.” You also wanted to spend some more time with Higuruma, but spared that detail. You were starting to feel somewhat guilty, like you had used him the night prior. No need to dig this deeper, you thought.

“I’m glad you stayed. I wish I had something to offer for breakfast, but I’m not the great domestic type of person. There isn’t anything in my fridge other than yesterday’s beer.” He answered, blatantly not embarrassed at all.

You chuckled lightly. “There might be an old lemon half. You never know, Higuruma.”

His expression became slightly saddened. “I know the sun is already out, but last night isn’t over until we’re out of bed.”

You dragged your body towards his, stopping a few inches apart, and looked him in the eyes. His gaze was lovely, and you were both nearly whispering, as if to keep the fragile little bubble of this moment intact. “Okay, Hiromi.”

Higuruma instantly smiled, and closed the gap between the two of you, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. “That’s more like it.”

You put your thumb on his chin and guided his face to look at you, sighing deeply. “I can’t stay. And I don’t think we should do this again.” You felt like you’d be only using him, even if you had a thing for Higuruma. You just failed to realize just how deep that “thing” was becoming.

He sighed back, because he realized you were doing that again. Fleeing to avoid touching on sensitive subjects. “I know you can’t stay, but I’d like to discuss that second part before you left.”

“What do you want to discuss?”

“I want to know why we shouldn’t have sex again.” He was a pretty straightforward and honest kind of guy, even if it meant saying the uncomfortable unsaid most of the time.

“Well, I feel like I’d be using you for self satisfaction, and I think you’re a friend I wouldn’t want to drive away by treating you like man candy.” You replied, earnestly.

“Then don’t.” He answered. “Treat me like man candy, I mean. Except if I ask for it.”

You chuckled and covered your face at his antics. “Hiromi, oh my God.”

“I mean it! We’re adults, and the lifespan of a jujutsu sorcerer isn’t that long from what I could tell, anyway. It doesn’t mean this will taint our friendship, as you pointed out, and we can always talk about it if things get strange in a bad way.” He negotiated with you. This was so much different from being lectured that you couldn’t help but feel glad to be sharing this moment with Higuruma.

You stayed quiet, studying his features as he awaited for a response, and your gaze wound up resting on his lips for a while, something he noticed. He approached you carefully, brushing his lips to yours, and it instantly made your heart race. You could hear each pump in the back of your ears, as you pressed your lips against his quickly, pulling apart before you both could get entangled together again for round two, after you explicitly told him you shouldn’t.

“Can I think about it?” You asked.

“Of course. But please, do think about it, and don’t just take time to stall on an answer.” Higuruma replied, ash colored eyes piercing through you.

“Oh, stalling to not give you an answer about something uncomfortable or compromising? That definitely doesn’t sound like me.” You answered, mockingly. You were aware of your intimacy issues.

He smiled and pressed his forehead against yours. “ I’m a lawyer, I’m quite familiar with buying time to avoid consequences.”

“Consequences, huh?” You asked, rolling to the opposite side of the bed. “Come on, Hiromi. Time to start the day.”

Defeated, he rolled on his back and stared at the ceiling, as your feet touched the cold morning floor.

[ratherlimey]

PLEASE READ 'WE CALLED THEM GIANTS"

***I tagged this in the transformers g/t tag for good reason, i swear!! I saw the title when it was announced, and of course g/t buzzword "giants". I honestly didn't expect the so called "giants" to be too prominent, and to be honest they weren't. But there was still moments that made me stare and wonder if the writer knows what g/t is. Because these scenes REALLY make me think they do. (Below the cut bc of SPOILERSSS). But please do read it! It's really cute, and has beautiful art. Theres so many g/t trophes in here oh my lord-

hes so beautiful oh my lord

He set food out for them 😭😭

HES PROTECTING HER GRAHHHH

HE LETS THEM SLEEP ON HIMM

accidental injury :((

HES SO SWEET I LOVE HIM He reminds me of like a first contact au Optimus (or any nicer cybertronian) Optimus(or whoever) arrives on this strange little organic world, stepping out of his ship and admiring his surroundings. He eventually notices three tiny little organics hiding out around the ruins of his ship and decides to make contact with them slowly. He knows most organics eat and are vulnerable to colder temperatures, and tries to put food out to lure them closer so he can interact with them. One day his scanners pick up a Decepticon pod nearby so he goes out to make sure it's safe. But he notices how one of the tiny organics are lingering around the food he sets out, so he goes to interact with them. They don't seem to run, so in order to keep them safe from a possible Decepticon threat, he takes them into his ship. I can imagine Optimus (or whoever) uses projections to entertain the little organic(s) on board, enjoying how amazed they seem.

I'm definitely going to actually construct this into a story with Optimus or whichever one I feel fits best. (It probably will remain Optimus tho) I just needed to write this out so I can scream about this somewhere.

[achelouise]

Together, forevermore

Fandom: Honkai Star Rail

Pairing: (Yan?)Blade x fem!reader

Warnings: Pretty dark, (at least its the most dark thing I've written so far DONT JUDGe me), blade is not nice here, non-con but no sex

Summary: Someone visits you on your deathbed.

A/N: ...... i may be on a slight toxic writing streak......... I WILL BRING SOMETHING ELSE FLUFF ENJOYERS I PROMISE

imma be honest i dont know if this is considered as yandere but i will tag it as such just in case

Your bones are weary. Wrinkles are prominent on your face, and your hair has completely faded to white.

You savor it all. The way time robs you of your youth, the way you bend to its will, morph yourself into a fragile being that couldn’t continue her adventure on the Express. The way you laugh when you spill a cup, when eons ago you would charge towards the enemy with your spear in hand.

You were satisfied with yourself. You have lived, breathed, and entertained yourself before the curtain fell. You have made friends, enemies, lovers, and experienced the joy and suffering of life. The galaxy is your sky, and the worlds you travel to is your home.

Well- perhaps just one lover. It felt like many, though. You could never forget him, but he is just a hazy memory in your old brain.

To think, a former Cloud Knight soldier would live and breathe without mara- truly, a wonderful end to a blazing life like yours.Granted, you weren’t from the Xianzhou- but to be on the battlefield is to sign up a guaranteed death by Abudance.

Even as the Crew parts, their memories and cherished ambitions lay dormant in your heart- beating weakly, slowly, and closer to eternal rest.

You loved this life, and you hated to see it go. Perhaps this is the wisdom Jingliu was desperate for- to understand mortality, and to understand an end to a life well spent.

You feel your fear of death grasping your chest as you heave, drinking in every breath. Unparalleled joy also envelops you; ah, the precious catalyst life holds for this body. Even as you have withered away, this body still yearns for a little bit of life, still squeezes every last drop, a complete opposite of the mara-stricken soldiers tethering between sanity and mania.

Beautiful. How beautiful this life could be.

You could only wish for the others to feel the same. You hope March understands the beauty of fragile mortality, and Dan Heng’s rest during his rebirth.

Even then, human will never dies. You and the trailblazer have entrusted yours to the Cosmodyssey, greeting the future generation of trailblazers from the distant past. Only this way, would you be immortalized, encapsulated in a beautiful dream.

A soft creak of the door alerts you. You smile, even as you struggle to inhale enough air to speak. “... Can’t you leave an old lady… to her death bed?”

Your voice is grating and unpleasant, but you cherish it all the same.

The visitor doesn’t speak. They walk in slowly, carrying a glass of water. At least, it looks like it- oh, you can’t blame yourself for not recognizing anything with such poor eyesight.

Probably one of the nurses that are hell bent on keeping you alive. You don’t really like them, you never have. Ever since you resigned yourself to an elderly shelter on your home planet, where you could meet even more friends before your end, the nurses have been instructed to keep you alive for as long as possible. Probably because if you do, you can attend more interviews, review more biographies about you and the Legends of Akivilli.

You can’t muster up the strength to retort any more, though. The nurse doesn’t really speak, either. They have a comically large mask on, one that shields their whole face, with only eyes piercing back. You don’t recognize them. Eugh, poor eyesight.

The monitor begins to beat feverishly. You are quite parched, though. No harm in quenching your thirst one last time before you kick the bucket.

As you reach for the glass, memories flash before your eyes. Your mother cradling you, your father holding you tight, your celebration with your friends as you pass your finals, your first arrival on the Xianzhou, your first kiss, your promise for a future with him, your losses, your despair, your fears-

And-

The Express. Your true home, the fondation which you rediscovered yourself and rebuilt yourself on. A place where you will never part, not even in death.

The warmth you felt for it, and the warmth it returned to you will never be forgotten.

You heave as you gulp down the drink. “Thank… you.”

You close your eyes.

Farewell, everyone.

You feel so light. You can properly feel your hands again. The backache is gone, stripped away, and you marvel at the skin that seems to reweave itself- granting you your youth, your past, prime shape. So the afterlife is merciful, after all.

You open your eyes. The birds near the windowsill are still chirping. Nothing has changed.

Wait.

What?

You feel your body reconstructing itself, your bones rearranging and your senses returning. Your eyes grow sharp and your face feels soft. The scars on your arms grow rapidly smaller, and smaller, until they are gone before you can blink. Uneasiness crawls in your chest.

And all the while, strange, delicate branches curl around your limbs, a soft green glow imitating the blessing of-

No. No no no no no no no no no.

No.

NO.

You find your strength to speak properly again. Your voice is lighter, easier to speak with, a voice or a bygone past, and it only nausates you as you grip your blanket. “What did you do?”

You turn to look at the nurse properly, as they finally start to make a sound- a soft, unsettling chuckle, one hand removing their mask.

The cruel smirk dances on Blade’s lips as he gestures to the glass cup in your hand.

Only now do you see the Emenator of Abundances’ blood swimming in the clear water you were so desperate for, only moments ago. You feel light-headed. You feel sick to the core.

You drop the cup, and it shatters on the floor- your skin feels cold, and your brain is spinning. You’re hyper-aware of how the liquid seeping out still flashes with the curse of Abundance, how the birds are screeching, and how Blade is cackling.

You heave, your breaths growing shorter by the moment. You watch as Blade reaches for your face- and if you flinch, he pretends to not notice.

No. You were close. You were so close.

“Why?” you cry, the first tears finally dripping down your cheeks. Blade’s bandaged hands wipe them away, and his dry lips press on them- as if savoring them.

“Did you honestly think you could escape me?” Blade reprimands softly, his empty eyes shining with disgusting, sickening adoration. “You promised you would stay, for as long as you could, for me.”

“You disgusting, wretched beast.” You lament, curling in further of yourself. The effects of the mara have started to settle; your muscles pound hard with fresh life breathed into your body, your bones gritting far worse than when you were of old age, and your mind starting to delude your sight. “I had forgotten you. I had lived, unlike you.”

“Promises are not to be broken.” Blade responds coldly, gripping your chin with sheer strength. You cry out as your skull cracks, only for it to mend itself, in perfect shape, the phantom pain lingering on your jaw. “I watched you blaze a trail for yourself. To me, your life was only moments worth of mine.”

“I married. I had children. They will remember me wedded to someone else.” you seethe.

Blade only chuckles mirthlessly at that. “Your attempts at deceiving me are truly pitiful. I know I was your first and last lover. I watched you fall apart in my absence. I watched your success. I watched how you withered away, and I envied you so, so much. Why couldn’t I feel that happy? Why couldn’t I feel that free?”

His hand ghosts over your neck, a silent warning if you dared to cry for help. Not that you would- you knew exactly what bringing his wrath would entail. Breaking your neck over, and over, and over again, to feel the pleasure of death like his master brought for him.

“I watched you pave a way for yourself. I hated you. I loved you. I don’t know how I feel anymore. Kafka has numbed everything away. But I chose to hold onto these feelings. Only you could give rise to new emotions after my rebirth. And you will be my partner. Together, we will be betrayers of death.”

You shake your head, and you wish so badly that all of this was a figment of your imagination. But it is real. You’ve seen enough soldiers fall prey to mara. You might have only succumbed to a dilated version, but it still tears away at your soul.

“Your playtime is over. Death will never reach you. Not even Nihility can bring you the peace you need. So stay with me.” He leans over, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear. Your head pounds. Shapes and colors blend into a mess. Only Blade sits before you.

“Not that you have a choice.” He nips the bud of your ear, his voice soft and stifling. The stench of blood and rain clings onto his skin, and you succumb to the despair that fills your heart. “You will join the Stellaron Hunters. Kafka will help you, as she did with me.”

He leans back, and he smiles, deranged and devoid of sanity, living in his own world of pure delusion.

Sometimes, when you were dating, you wondered what he was before he was Blade. Would he still date you?

And even now, as he seals his promise with a kiss, you think. Would he condone any of this? How would he feel, knowing he has turned into a monster?

You close your eyes. You envision your friends and comrades, who all bear no burdens of eroding immortality, an apology on your tongue.

I’m sorry. I failed you all.

“Together, forevermore.”

[plasticfangtastic]

american royalty. ch. 2

A Homelander x F!reader fanfic.

a/n: will post ch. 3 this week but sadly my other fic will be posted next week, enjoy this slow burn dadlander fic, and thx u to all the readers. prev. chapter:

Sypnosis: Homelander never wanted to remember you, but after welcoming Ryan into his life, he thought of you & the lie that tore you two apart. Now... thinking back, thinking of your betrayal-- was he perhaps wrong about who the father of your unborn child was? Did you perhaps told the truth all those years ago?

Tags: mild gore, angst, lots of angst, slow burn, fluff, OC characther, child neglect, dadlander, romance.

Chapter Two

Red

It had been a very long day, business was booming nowadays and since that influencer had made a couple videos on your pizzeria, you had been more than just busy, you began to run out of ingredients.

 In the last four years, the restaurant had grown, it had been there since 2002 ran by your boss’s father and his brother, who had ran their own pizza shop since the 80’s but as the economy and other events hit, they had decided to relocate and re-brand, now managed by their son– a man you owed so much, had his heart not been filled with kindness you would most likely be in the streets. So you made sure his restaurant was the best, you had accolades, you’ve worked in some of the best restaurants, you were once a very prominent fast rising figure of the New York culinary scene– until Homelander came along.

Your talent revamped the restaurant and now your food was once again on the spotlight, for the first time since you left Vought, you were happy with yourself, even if it was pizza. Cooking made you happy, and this job needed you, you didn’t live in fear of sleeping in your car anymore, you didn’t need to worry that your daughter would sleep on somebody’s couch again, you were able to quit your third job and go casual on your second thanks to this place, right now you didn’t live in the best of places but you were saving up and in a couple months you’d have enough money saved up to move, and send your daughter to a better school, somewhere were her talents wouldn’t be wasted.

So here you were ten minutes before closing, another extra couple hours of overtime for your dream two bedroom apartment, where it would be safe for her, where you could finally feel like your life had moved on from him, that the door opened up and your cashier squealed.

It was a quaint looking restaurant, the wood seating was new and the wall decor had been changed trying to look less cluttered, with Art Deco lighting fixtures as the stand out feature. The place had been remodeled recently it seems, the kitchen and its big brick oven looked clean but ancient to Homelander, he stared at the menu board and metal boxes of accouterments by the counters, taking in that this was in fact a pizza place, that you of all people did in fact work at a pizza place. You who could whip up amazing fare, now made greasy cheap slices, but he had seen people come in and leave endlessly these past few days, people taking selfies, and recording themselves with your food, nothing he understood.

He looked back at the teenager on the counter offering his signature smile as she blubbered her script, then as you took a step closer knowing you couldn’t hide in this open kitchen you finally looked at each other for the first time in seven years.

Your throat collapsed and your whole body became prickly and tight, your heart was beating so fast you thought you might be having a heart attack, you looked at the clock cursing that it wasn’t over, you were almost done packing the kitchen and readying for tomorrow, having a customer at this hour was awful but having him here was about to take you to an early grave.

“What’s your best seller?” Homelander muttered looking straight at you with an aloof stare, then back at the cashier– is pizza night at my house, sorry for coming so late hope that’s not a problem?” he said exceedingly politely.

The teenager blushed and looked back at you as if asking you to pinch her.

“That would be our pepperoni queen– is two types of cheese, extra pepperoni, with our signature house made marinara, with a dash of vodka sauce in our sourdough thin crust… chili oil is optional” You had managed to say trying to ignore those piercing blue eyes, you moved back to your place staring at the few remaining trays of dough balls left– our second best seller is our chicken florentine pie.”

Homelander admittedly detested pizza, it was greasy, gooey and heavy, it was fattening and gross, but there was a familiar aroma in the room, something that was making his mouth water lightly. Looking back at the girl, he ordered both in their smallest size offered, he sat by one of the wooden booths for the ten minutes he was told to wait, and not once did he made a comment, maybe that’s why your heart stung so much, why it felt as if you were about to collapse– that after seven years, he had completely forgotten about you, while only now did you began to feel as if you could heal from all the suffering he’d cause you, how insignificant had you been all along, how you love never registered.

You both had talked of moving in together and buying a home, he wanted to buy you a restaurant, and you wanted to give him your life, you had never loved somebody as much as he made you love him, and now you were just some bum wearing a graphic t-shirt making him dinner.

You packed his food, your boss Kaleem had given him extras on the house, practically begging for Homelander to give them a photo for their socials and you simply stare as he did his superhero thing, you took one of the delivery bags knowing he would lose the food if he flew with them in hand.

After the photoshoot, Kaleem and your cashier had run to the back to show the picture to the only other staffer left at this hour.

You both looked at each other as he took the bag off your hands, you wanted to cry, your eyes welling up but you looked down afraid of him, no doubt he could hear your heartbeat tickling his ear.

“It's been a while hasn’t it?” 

You could’ve collapsed into tears right then and there, it was worse to be remembered.

Growing angry at the sound of his soft voice, and that concerned expression in his face.

“Yes…”

“How you been? Didn’t think I'd ever see you again.”

“Should’ve killed me back then… got fucking close to it tho.” You dropped all pleasantries, hearing him talk and not hearing the word sorry 5 seconds in, had infuriated you. His stupid face, those stupid eyes, and that clown suit was too much for you, maybe it was the poor diet and lack of sleep but right now you wanted to ban him from Lucci’s– hope you enjoy the food.”

You pushed the bag jumping from the kitchen to the front as you headed for the door, holding it open for him.

“I’m doing alright. Now leave!” 

“You don’t even want to know why I'm here?” he was taken aback by your brashness, you had always been sweet to him, tender, barely ever angry before, so why now?

“You got a little kid now, I gather like any other kid, he likes pizza… and good for him because mine is the best!”

“Not really… I actually wanted to see you. I… I just wanted to ask you something–

“Mother!!”

Your daughter emerged from the depths of the kitchen, she carried a kindle in one hand and a giftcard in the other.

“Is it okay if I use my present now? They got some books on sale and you said not to buy more books until I finished… oh…”

In the light and in front of him, your daughter truly looked like your mirror image, copy and pasted into a miniature. Her hair just past her chin, and her bangs indeed covered her eyes, peeking behind those curtains were the prettiest blue eyes he’d ever seen, there was no unnatural shine to them– just blue. Her lips so thin and her complexion just a tad paler than your own now that he gave it a proper look, she was so small-- too small for her age.

“Is okay honey, is your birthday you can get any books you want” Your tone shifted entirely lowering yourself to take her face and plant a quick peck on her cheek– now go back with uncle Kaleem and let mommy close shop, okay? We’ll go home in a minute.”

“Is it your birthday young lady? Congratulations.”

Homelander threw his best smile, giving the kid a cautious pet, catching the rage in your eyes as his gloved fingers touched your daughter.

“Thanks. Is not a milestone birthday so it is not worthy of congratulations… seems inane to celebrate it” she looked at her mother with a jaded expression– " I'll go get my bag, have a good night, sir.”

Homelander pressed his lip as the most deadpan voice came out of this little girl. Her oversized black sweater and the black tights made her look oddly unhappy, but the kid just stared at him with boredom, no surprise or interest when she stood next to America's favorite son.

He wondered if that was an adult or a seven year old for a second.

He worried if the kid had told his mother about that other night, but looking back at you he went with 'maybe'.

“What’s your name?” he asked, still forcing a smile– "my… you seem like a smart girl getting books for your birthday.”

“Helena.”

The kid couldn’t muster the energy to give him anything but her dead ass voice, she began to walk away not caring for manners, nor Homelander.

“She’s… cute.” he said watching that tiny figure walk away and surviving after her second nsult– great pronunciation for her age, does she even know what she’s saying?”

“Helena is not like other kids.”

“How so?” 

You looked at him more tired than anything, rubbing your temples as you made yourself waste spit to talk to him.

“She’s a Supe… by the time she was two she could speak in full sentences, by three she could read at a first and second grade level, and by five she was teaching herself calculus and piano… she’s a genius; I thought she was a normal genius until… her other powers manifested– none of this matters! Just go!” You shook your head in frustration.

“You gave her V?” He said while staring at Helena.

“... I didn’t know what V was until the news broke out, I thought Helena was chosen by God! That the world blessed her with those powers, but when that story came out I’ve been wanting to ask you– did you give her V? but… if you didn’t… who… are you lying to me, John?”

Homelander looked past the concrete walls looking back at that little girl, he didn’t know what to say or do, before you could utter another word he left.

Ryan nose picked the meal quickly, glad that it was friday and his dad would let him stay up ‘til late, Homelander just dropped the meal on their new table and the kid was quick on his feet, the food was still warm, only now did Homelander noticed the extras, couple of small containers holding chili oil and freshly made ranch, garlic knots and a lemon meringue pie, it was too much but Ryan hadn’t hesitated to dig in, before Homelander could ask him to wash his hands he had ripped a slice of pepperoni.

“This is so good!” He said so cheerfully– gosh I was starving, dad.”

“I sure hope so, bud… let’s leave the pie for tomorrow…” he looked grossed out, Ryan sat opening up the garlic knot’s containers– not gonna eat?”

Homelander sat down to join him, the thought of touching all those greasy surfaces was making his stomach hurl, but he relented, taking a slice. 

He was young again, and you were there coming back with some drinks as he ate your chicken florentine, this was the same recipe, the chicken was so juicy and the cheese wasn’t greasy. Ryan was shocked to see his father sound so happy as he took another bite.

It was the first time they both ate together where they felt completely comfortable with each other, maybe it was seeing Ryan not pick at his food that made Homelander able to just talk, Ryan told him all about his homework, and the videogame he was playing, he really liked Fifa at the moment even if he himself cared not for the sport.

Helena watched as her mother stood silently hovering above the sink, you hadn’t moved much for a couple of minutes, your daughter more annoyed than anything else regarding this display.

“How do you know Homelander?” she asked with a yawn.

“Huh?” you woke up from your trance– you should be in bed, darling.”

“You too. So… How do you know the clown?”

“Honey, don't say that!”

“He walks around wearing a onesie all day… like a clown… like the rest of those super clowns”

Your daughter always spoke with a creepy maturity, her voice didn’t belong to a kid.

“... He used to be my boss… he was a really bad boss…”

“You used to work for Vought?” She softened her stand.

“Honey… I don’t really want to talk about this… it's late and we are going to the museum tomorrow so you should get some sleep, mommy is just tired… hope you had a good birthday.”

“You should rest too, mother.”

Your daughter's eyes glowed momentarily turning th blinkers off before she made her way to bed, you stared at her door, thinking if she could see you.

No mother should think their child was creepy, Helena was just difficult and abrasive, to be a small kid with her brain must be unbearable. You could recall the moment she asked you about V so vividly, she looked angry, but you had no honest answer to give her, you had to lie, god knows if you got the details right about how these people committed these crimes. Helena simply had no ability to relate to people, and without the funds you couldn’t help her meet her potential, not while you were both stuck living in public housing, not while scraping every penny.

Her few friends forced her to dumb down and even they found her uneasy, only the old people seemed to handle her best, she loved to listen, and her teachers always thought of her as  a delight, yet she knew no other Supe beside herself, those pageants were expensive, and networking meetings were hard to get in, talent agencies were costly– having a super-abled kid and trying to make them into a Supe was locked behind a massive paywall, all you could hope was that her genius would let her enter a university early on scholarships.

There was always Godolkin, but god knows if they would let her enter at a young age.

It would be easy if her father was involved, if John was there in her life, she would have the world but he didn’t want her, he had made that clear years ago.

So why did he lie about the V? 

It had been two weeks since you seen Homelander, but he saw you a lot, he'd come back and forth-- watching you and the child with ardent curiosity, seeing you made him reminisce, of those many nights and afternoons, of the way no matter how tired you were, you always made sure to look happy when he showed up, the way you looked so at peace while cooking, of the feel of your skin against his and the taste of your precious lips as you kissed him good morning. 

He followed you, on your only day off as you took Helena around the city, watching you share a slice of overprice cake while taking notes, and ate cheap chinese for lunch, you waited for two hours as Helena played chess and checkers with some oldies at a chess shop, some russian man gave her lessons-- some of these people dressed nicely perhaps pros. Some won over her and some lost but the games were quick, your daughter seemed happier when she loss than when winning.

Something about that didn’t sit well with Homelander.

Somehow he found himself in your apartment, cracking open the window to sneak in while you headed back home– the tiny apartment felt more like a closet than a habitable space, the ceilign was run down, and the appliances ancient but well kept, your bedroom was simple, cooking books and boxes sat on top of your dressers, a single’s bed with plush comforters and pillows stuck against the wall, with a wardrobe in front of it, and a cheap fan tucked in the corner. He left for your daughter’s room just a few feet away divided by the bathroom were most of the clutter and laundry lived, her bedroom was just as plain, but the books didn’t seem fit for a small child, her desk tidy and organized, he picked up a notebook from the pile, seeing math equations that hurt his eyes within seconds. All her stuff were nice and new, she had a decent computer on top of her bed, an old dresser, but there was an absence of toys– compared to Ryan’s bedroom that was filled with anything he wanted and decorated expertly. A clock adorned her walls but not much else, the few things that looked messy was a tiny plastic chess set, the kind with magnets on the bottom, and some DIY stem kits.

He took to the bathroom, it was old and falling apart, mold was growing in the corner much to Homelander’s disgust, trolley held dozens of beauty stuff and shampoos and detergents, a shelf on the wall held towels and toilet rolls. Homelander looked at a sparkly hairbrush, picking a couple strands of lost hair knowing by their lengths and color that they weren’t yours, and cursing himself for doing this as he place them on small plastic bag he had hid in his glove.

[rerefundslocals]

BIG DEAL . JJK

Summary : lately you've been feeling lack of affection from your boyfriend and you decide to let it be. until your silence catches up with you.

>>pairing : idol!jungkook x fem!reader.

>>trope : established relationship.

>>genre : angst, smut, fluff.

>>warnings/tags : softdom!jungkook, sub!reader, sad confrontations, crying, wall sex, one ass slap, unprotected sex, oral for one second (f recieving), teasing, dirty talk, cum tasting, sweet aftercare, they jus inlove.

a/n - yall juh vibe and enjoy this, I tried to write it up to par, but it was rushed and is poorly written, forgive me. No bam appearances. Maybe next time!

~★~

"It's not even that serious."

"Jungkook, it is. Stop arguing and fix it."

This is one of the most normal days in your life, non- stop bickering between you and your boyfriend, on the broken kitchen cabinet holding all the fragiles.

"Jungkook, don't go back and do karaoke, my mugs are suffering!" You exclaim, rubbing your forehead at frustration of your boyfriend walking away.

"Baby, come on. I'll do that tomorrow. I'm not even sane enough to hold a screwdriver." Of course he isn't. He just had some beer and is now singing out of his mind, and it doesn't usually annoy you, not when he's listening to you.

You sigh, your heart feeling heavy at his response and you wouldn't usually feel this way over a cabinet, but it's constant now, jungkook doesn't listen to you these days, doesn't even hug and kiss you like you'd like. Those gestures feel forced nowadays.

"Fine, Jk. Whenever you're ready." You don't miss the way Jungkook furrows his brows in confusion when you leave the room.

He wonders why 'Jk' and not 'kook', 'babe' or 'koo'.

Dropping the LG remote he walks behind you, and upon entering your shared bedroom, he finds you on the floor with your phone screen lit up in your face and it looks like to him, you're going through his and your album filled with all your pictures.

"Stop staring, Jk." He catches himself staring too long and perks up at your voice, reminding himself what he's here for.

"What's wrong, baby?" Its ridiculous isn't it? How he thinks he could waltz up in here and expect an immediate response, he should know by now or is he that insolent?

That's all that plagues in your head.

"Bab-"

"What don't you see? Hmm, Jk. You don't care anymore, never listening to me, not even paying attention to my needs anymore. But you have the audacity to ask what's wrong? I don't even want to talk anymore."

By the time you're done, your lash line is filled with tears threatening to spill and soil your cheeks. Jungkook takes note of it and gets on the floor with you, wrapping his arms around your waist to bring your face into his chest as you sob your heart out, too weak to push him away. Jungkooks tattooed hand pats your head lovingly as he whispers apologies, his own eyes burning at the tears threatening to spill.

"I-im so sorry, baby. You and I both know I'd never want to hurt you. Please forgive me. I love you so much." He doesn't expect a response immediately but he yearns it so bad. He want to hear you tell him you love him too.

Your chests are heaving against one another as you both cry your emotions out. Jungkook crying from the stress at work, the stress over you, stress from his bad habits, as he cries into your hair.

You cry on his chest, your tears making his shirt wet as you cry from frustration, crying from the touch you've yearned for weeks, crying because he loves you. He said it and it felt genuine as it swelled in your heart from weeks of not hearing it.

It's about 20 minutes later when jungkook feels your hands fisting his shirt and he knows what you mean, cause when he looks down, your wandering and red eyes are staring straight into his own red eyes and prominent bags.

You bring your hand up to his hair and you run your hand through his locks. You then force his head down to meet with your forehead.

Leaning up, your lips meet his slightly and ever so quietly you whisper to him, " Don't make me feel alone again. Listen to me sometimes and I'll listen to you. I'm here for you, Koo." And softly your lips meet his chapped ones.

Jungkook allows for you to take the lead, as you kiss him softly and ever so passionately, your hands running through his soft locks.

The kiss turns heated as you probe your tongue on jungkooks lower lip, urging him to allow your tongue and he does. His tongue meets your warm one and you swirl it around, doing it as you would a lollipop.

Your hands instinctively go lower as you pull jungkooks shirt above his head, your lips separating to allow the action. You dive back in for his lips but jungkook holds your cheeks in his hands, as his eyes roam your face underneath the bright mikrokosmas light.

"I love you,____, so much." And before you could respond with the same adoration, your being lifted up and your back meets the cold wall.

"Tell me you love me." Jungkook prodes as he removes your baby tee from the confines of your chest.

Your breathing is picking up as you're only getting wetter at the thought of being fucked against this wall, and jungkooks dominance showing out.

Jungkooks hand is toying with your tits and you throw your head back to moan, totally forgetting what jungkook had asked of you.

"Tell me or I'll stop,___."

"I do, Jungkook. I love you so much! So, Please touch me." Your hand guides his tattooed one to your clothed pussy, and jungkook complies, rubbing your clit on your spandex shorts.

"That's it, baby. That's all I wanted. Gonna fuck you now."

"Please~" you whine, feeling your high coming from just being rubbed through your shorts.

Jungkook chuckles at your desperateness, choosing to tease you even more as he peels off your shorts at a torturous speed, that is so so slow.

"Jungkook! Please!"

"Getting there, baby." And with a swift pull, both your shorts and thong are ridded off your body and you're left bare for jungkook.

Your pussy meets the cold air and a thin coat of sweat is on your collarbone and forehead from your desperation, you tell yourself to wait a little more as you watch Jungkook rids himself of his sweatpants.

But you can't. So you bring your fingers to rub your clit and the pleasure has you moaning exaggeratingly.

"Fuck! Kook!" Jungkook perks up and quickly brings his tip to your aching pussy, the hardness of his cock confining in your pussy walls.

In unison you both murmur a , "fuck!" Into the room.

As slowly as he starts, jungkook thrusts up into you as your hands come down to his hair, and your lips meet for a loving kiss as his thrusts become more sharper and faster.

"Mmh, such a tight pussy for me. And you always this wet? Tell me, baby." Jungkooks words are so dirty and urge your tummy to coil tighter as you feel your high coming.

Jungkook recieves a Moan as response and he isn't so happy, he just wants his good girl to tell him if she's so wet for him. What's so hard about that?

If only he'd know how his dick makes you lose your ability of speaking. But he doesn't when he lays a slap upon your ass, the sound filling the room along with your slickness on his cock, as it slips in and out of you with ease, the sound of Mac and cheese in the room.

"Answer me." You mutter a chant of 'fucks' as you lay your head on his sweaty shoulder, your high approaching.

"Y-yes, Koo- m' so fucking wet for you! I'm gonna cum! Sh-hit I'm gonna fucking cum." You mewl your sentence messily as a fucked out jungkook smirks at your legs going weak in his arms.

"Cum all over this cock, baby, wanna hear you cum." Jungkools gruff voice fills your ears as you bite down on his shoulder, your eyes hazy and watery at the sensation of cumming do hard.

Jungkook doesn't stop thrusting and youre moaning loudly and tiredly, awaiting jungkooks load in your pussy.

"Mmh, fuck! So fucking tight." His thrusts are sloppier and wetter, as the mix of your cum and his wet dick fill you up.

"Cum inside, kook. Fill me up." With a low groan, spurts of white fill your pussy as your feel it trailing down your thighs.

Jungkook came.

And it's so fucking thick. But with enough time to spare thinking about it. Jungkook peels your body off the wall as he brings you to the bed.

Quickly rushing to grab a wet cloth.

He comes back and places it on your swollen clit and messy pussy.

He backtracks, moving it away and taking initiative as he places his tongue on your pussy, licking up both yours and his cum off.

It catches you off guard as you let out a low moan.

Jungkook quickly finishes and he finally cleans you both up. Grabbing fresh clothes for you to sleep in.

When jungkook places you comfortably in the blankets, he turns to leave and your grabby hands pull him back.

"Koo, where you going?" Your eyes are fighting it at this point and jungkook chuckles at that, his smile genuine.

"I'm just going to switch off the TV and lights, okay? Be right back, angel."

And he's back before you know it, leaning over to switch off your side lamp.

Placing a long deep kiss on your forehead, jungkook promises to love you forever as you fall into deep slumber.

whispering the promise back into his chest, you finally allow sleep to take over you.

Do not copy my work. I'll find you.

[writer-kermit]

Cognitive Bias in the Mortal Kombat Fandom

❥ GENRE: EXPLORATORY ESSAY

❥ COMMISSIONED OR SELF MADE: SELF MADE

❥ W/C: 1,314 (W/O SOURCES)

ঞ SUMMARY: The world is changing, and so is our perception of media. So why are we against these changes? What if everything remained the same from the beginning?

ᰔ KERMIT'S NOTE: I haven't made an exploratory essay since 2022. Mostly because I was afraid of what people might perceive me as. But for a while, I gathered the confidence to start writing more essays based on my personal views. Maybe that will help my writing skills. If you wish for more content like this, feel free to ask! Thanks for reading!

ʚ TAG LIST: @fsfghgee @laismoura-art @loiola00 Thank you for giving me the courage to write again 🫶

ʚ WARNING: Spoilers (maybe???) Racism, Misogyny/Misogynoir, and other graphic content.

Before I start, I just want to say that I only know Mortal Kombat through NetherRealm Studios, so I will be referring to them more than Midway. Now, I’ve only been a fan of Mortal Kombat for two years. I first started getting into it when my friend showed me a video of the Mortal Kombat 9 gameplay in 2022. Since then, I’ve been consuming so much of the MK media. From video games, to animations, to fanfiction, you name it! However, as I delved deeper into the Mortal Kombat rabbit hole, I noticed that there is a strong “bias” within the fandom. Now don’t get me wrong, there isn’t anything bad about having biases. In fact, some biases can improve problem solving skills by identifying different patterns and thinking accordingly to solve the problem. But since I’m talking about Mortal Kombat here, there won’t be as much problem solving. When it comes to NetherRealm Studio's interpretation of Mortal Kombat, fans and critics are quick to have some sort of cognitive bias. 

So why specifically cognitive bias? What even is a cognitive bias? Well, cognitive bias is a systematic thought process caused by the tendency to simplify (or fully reject) information through a filter of personal experience and preferences. But if cognitive bias helps with problem solving, how can it be harmful? In most cases, cognitive bias can contribute to poor and unfair judgment, especially when that judgment can affect the way we consume media. From my experience in Mortal Kombat, fans have the most bias between different characterizations; whether that’d be race, gender, or sexuality, plot, and even the companies itself.

Race/Ethnicity: Black female characters such as Jacqui Briggs, Tanya, Cyrax (MK1) are more prominent to be discriminated against based on their appearance, motives, and depiction throughout the MK series. Unfortunately, this isn’t just a Mortal Kombat problem. In fact, black women in different media are heavily underrepresented and often looked down upon. In the scholar work “Art Imitates Life: The Representation (Or Lack Thereof) of Black Women in Video Games” by Bug Gadson, the author makes an important claim that because of the systematic racism built on white supremacy and misogynoir (racism and misogyny), the “historical evolution of Black feminism in the United States not only developed through [black stereotypes],” but also how the media consume these types of harmful portrayal and use it to characterize all black women (Gadson, 2021). This is almost ironic because Mortal Kombat is known for its diverse characters. As a black non-binary student, it’s very painful to see racist comments of these black characters on Reddit, YouTube, and even Tumblr.

Gender: Along with racism, misogyny in the Mortal Kombat fanbase is no secret. As Mortal Kombat progressed over to NetherRealm Studios, women have grown to be less sexualized and played more dominant roles throughout the series. Because of this change, most fans complained that the women were ‘unattractive’ and threatened the NRS developers to revert to their revealing attire. One example of this outrage is when YouTube commenter, TrueUnderDawg made a petition on his Twitter and YouTube community post to enforce “cyber-swimsuits” for female Cyrax and Sektor, further engaging with the sexualization of female characters in video games. With Sektor and Cyrax being gender-swapped in MK1’s DLC: Khaos Reigns, fans believed that the gender swap was only implemented to add more relationships within the new timeline. While it’s true that Sektor and Cyrax were intended to pursue romantic relationships, I believe that it doesn’t overall deter their characterization. In fact, any form of relationship can build up motives and create a sense of agency for that character. For Sektor and Bi-Han's relationship, both share goals and concepts of building the Lin Kuei, so even if there is a gender swap, their relationship does make sense to a point (it’s also hypocritical to criticize Bi-Han/Sektor to justify Bi-Han/Sareena as both ships have their flaws). Tumblr user @fsfghgee made some pretty good points on Bi-Han and Sektor, so I recommend looking at them for more information.

Sexual Orientation: Since 2015, there has been a new splurge of canon and implied relationships in Mortal Kombat. In addition, there have been a handful of LGBTQ+ characters. Examples being Sindel, Mileena, Tanya, and Kung Jin. However, it didn’t stop fans from creating their own LGBTQ+ ships; with the most well-known ships being SubScorp (Scorpion x Sub Zero), Johnshi (Johnny x Kenshi), JadeTana (Jade x Kitana), and many others. With the new changes in MK1 (and Khaos Rain and Tanya’s relationship), most fans were claiming that NRS were erasing queer characters and relationships. For reference, I am pansexual. So, my personal view on ‘cis relationships’ might be different. While I do believe that NRS’s interpretation of relationships can be improved, it does have greater potential than Midway (sorry older fans). What really pisses me off is when fans were so quick to call “queer erasure” when non-canon ships weren’t implemented in the game. I’m not trying to say that NRS shouldn’t have more LGBTQ+ representation, but being blatantly cisphobic to the already canon ships within the series takes away actual queer erasure that purposefully diminishes the existence of the queer community throughout any other media platforms.

Writer’s Perspective: Ed Boon and Dominic Cianciolo are the main writers and directors for Mortal Kombat in NetherRealm Studios. As of 2023, they released a reboot of Mortal Kombat named Mortal 1 Kombat. After the dissolvement of the previous timeline (MK11), newly demigod Liu Kang resets the universe to create a more peaceful timeline. With the significant changes in the story, it’s almost difficult to adjust to the new storyline. Personally, I don’t like all the changes either. And I think it’s even more difficult to find someone who does like all the changes. Nevertheless, I believe that providing different perspectives can accommodate and even further regulate the story. It’s important to take note that the earlier timeline is nearly irrelevant to MK1. So rather than trying to implement older lore, why not use what is already canon and interpret our own theories? For example, let’s take Hanzo, who is a child in MK1. Hanzo’s survivor guilt could parallel Tomas (Smoke). Rather than accepting the death of his clan, Hanzo’s emotions could turn him to be vengeful and become more irrational and radicalized. Another example could be Bi-Han/Noob Saibot (The corrupted version of Bi-Han). His irredeemable actions and hatred towards his family could symbolize the corruption of leadership and foreshadow his ultimate downfall. Now here’s a side note: I know some fans believed that Bi-Han should’ve gotten a redemption arc, but this man openly claimed that he is willing to kill his OWN FAMILY to remain in power. So, like... I don’t know if he could redeem himself if tried. That being said, there is nothing inherently wrong with ‘maliciously evil’ characters if written correctly. However, there is a difference between ‘bad’ characters and ‘bad character writing’ (AHEM AHEM KOTAL KAHN AHEM).   

Overall Thoughts: I want to make it clear that there is nothing wrong with criticizing Boon and Cianciolo and giving them feedback to help them improve future games. However, there is a difference between constructive criticism and harassment. The NRS developers aren’t blocking people in different media because they can’t handle criticism, they’re blocking people because they are continuously being harassed and receiving death threats. Regardless of these changes, Mortal Kombat is still an enjoyable game and shouldn’t be torn apart by its own hypocrisy. There is nothing wrong with having bias. Sometimes, biases can help us interpret different information in a nuanced way. But know that change is necessary for the world to function, even if some of the changes can kind of stink. 

[epic-sorcerer]

How gay people were actually precived in medival times

Ok so even after years of obsessive research, it sitll took me until recently to finally grasp a medival point of view on homosexuality. I’m assuming I’m not alone in my not understanding of it so I figured I might as well break it down for my fellow Merlin fans.

So basically, there was no consept of heterosexuality and homosexuality. There was only “female attraction” or “male attraction.” If a man possessed the same sexual attraction as a woman would, he would have a female attribute.

For this reason, they were considered “hermaphrodites.”

Unfortunately I’m going to have to keep saying this word, because modern ones jsut don’t make sense here. But please know that it is widely considered a slur among intersex people and originates from a Greek myth where hermaphrodite gets his body murjed with a woman who wants to rape him. So. Don’t call people that, please.

Anyways. Hermaphrodites were considered a medical condition and had to pick a gender to be, as they couldn’t simply exist as a third gender. This of course carried a lot of shame amongst the people who were concidered hermaphrodites. The gender was often chosen based on what sex characteristics were most prominent.

So, assuming the only “female traits” a male has is his homosexuality, they would likely stay as a man unless they really did not want to be. And even then, they would have to do it in secret because any deviation from their strict idea of gender was considered a threat to society. Witch is why hermaphrodites had to live as one male *or* female in the first place

I think this puts in to a lot of perspective on how I write Arthur especially. I originally would write Arthur as feeling very emasculated by being queer from a perspective of toxic masculinity.

But looking at it now, is that not gender dysphoria? Of course he doesn’t want to have female sex characteristics. When I’m a guy, I don’t either!

I’ve done lots of research and sighlent lurking on intersex spaces for a while now just because. But I think now I’ll start using that knolage to my advantage to my writing because it’s more realistic. I think murjing my experience as a queer person and intersex people’s experiences would make the sotry make a whole lot more sense.

I would recommend anyone to simply just follow the #intersex tag. But yk….if you’re not intersex you should probably stay silent unless you have a question or something. They get talked over a lot.

I am thankful that I have a direct tie from my hyoerfixation to intersex because while I have done my own research without it, it’s still difficult to do just about anything if it’s not about Merlin. Perhaps some other people reading this struggle in the same way.

I hoped this helped you guys, here’s my main source that really helped me. And you can ask me questions if you’d like.

[abitohoney]

Hustle - CH5: Rewards

AO3 link

CH1 || CH2 || CH3 || CH4 || CH5

Sevika x female reader

Rating: Explicit, MDNI, NSFW

Tags: Sevika/Reader, Ran & Reader, Established Relationship, assassin reader, Fluff, Smut, Porn with Feelings, Porn With Plot, horny idiots in love, Dom/sub, Dom Sevika, sub Reader, Humor, Banter, Choking, Spanking, Teasing, Light Sadism, Begging, Strap-Ons, Lesbian Sex, Aftercare, Gambling, Smoking, lack of understanding card games, totally winging this shit, Canon-Typical Violence, Blood, Praise Kink, Vaginal Fingering, Semi-Public Sex, Rough Sex, Hair-pulling, reader is not the most graceful creature, but Sevika adores reader all the more for it, Jealousy, Marking, Orgasm Delay, Cunnilingus, Multiple Orgasms, Hurt/Comfort, a Yordle OC that we will likely never see again but I had entirely too much fun writing, 69 (Sex Position)

Word Count: 9.4k

Summary: Looking to make your nights with Sevika a bit more… exciting, you suggest making use of your shared talent for playing cards. Together, the two of you take the Undercity, and even Topside, by storm. And what’s more exciting than the thrill of winning, or watching your opponents whine and gripe in defeat, or earning far more coin than the two of you could possibly spend? The release of pent-up sexual desire that seems to come with each and every win, that’s what.

AN: This is already in process over on AO3.

With more coin than either you or Sevika knew what to do with, you had spent the several weeks following the Piltover tournament working with the Undercity's most prominent chemtech and augmentation specialist. The same one that had done her old model. You had managed to meet with the man several times without Sevika's knowing, discussing all the upgrades you wanted to include in the design of her new arm.

As you led Sevika down the catwalk that led to the shop, you could sense her weariness, which only served to put you even more on edge. Though you were confident the arm would in fact be an improvement, you weren't so sure Sevika- or more specifically, her pride- would be so accepting of your help.

The bright, neon sign came into view and you anxiously glanced up at Sevika’s expression. She seemed to realize what was going on the moment she read the sign, her gaze dropping to yours, but her face remained stoic, unreadable.

You pushed open the iron door, the sound of the bell chiming above barely audible over the noise of machinery running in the back.

Sevika followed you to the wall of cabinets that separated the main part of the store from the actual workshop. Her gaze roamed over the various parts, canisters, instruments, and metal limbs that sat on shelves lining the walls.

You’d never really asked much about her arm. She’d always seemed to become quiet and distant whenever it came up. So you wondered if maybe coming back was stirring up some unwanted memories.

Hopefully it will be worth it.

While Sevika ‘busied’ herself by looking at a host of weapon-like augmentations scattered along the top of the counter over the cabinets, you poked your head into the back room.

Heinz- the tiny, old Yordle that ran the shop- was busy hunched over one of his machines, grinding away at a piece of metal. Goggles far too large for his little face obstructed his view of you in his periphery, and unfortunately the guy was damn near deaf after years of working with so much loud machinery, so you waited for him to pause.

“Hey! Heinz!” you hollered the moment the machine died down to a quiet hum.

His furry ears perked up and he flipped off the switch to the machine before turning in your direction.

“Oh! Hi! Yes! I didn’t hear the bell.”

He hasn’t heard the bell for years.

“No problem,” you called back.

“What?”

“No. Problem!” you yelled.

“Ah. Yes,” he replied with several nods, knocking his safety goggles right off his face. They fell to rest just below his neck, and he either didn’t notice or didn’t care. “Is she here?” he asked, rather loudly, as he approached the counter.

Eyesight was apparently going too. Sevika was standing not more than three feet to your left and maybe a foot back. “She sure is.”

“Now?”

You blinked a few times. “Yes. She is here now.” You wondered if he was this scatterbrained when he made her first arm. You honestly hoped he was otherwise you’d question if he was really fit to make this new one.

Heinz stepped up onto his little stool behind the counter, beady eyes finally falling on Sevika. “Oh! Good to see you, Susan!”

“It’s Sevika,” she gruffed.

“Ah, yes. Sara.”

Sevika released an impatient sigh, but didn’t bother attempting to correct him again.

He leaned across the counter, hand to the side of his mouth as he whispered, or rather spoke at a normal level which was a whisper to him, “Does she know why she’s here?”

Sevika’s impatient gaze drifted from the Yordle to your awkward expression.

“Ha. Uhm. No, she does not,” you replied, “Well, she’s probably starting to put two and two together.”

“What?”

“She’s probably put-” you started to repeat louder, “-NO!”

“Ah, yes. Would you like to tell her or shall I?” he asked, still ‘whispering’ loud enough for Sevika to hear loud and clear.

“I think I-” you paused again. You needed to be short and loud with this guy. “I WOULD LIKE TO.”

“Ah, yes. Of course. I’ll go grab it while you tell her.”

Heinz hopped down from his stool and disappeared into the back.

You turned to face Sevika, releasing an awkward laugh when you were met with a steely gaze.

“You going to explain what’s going on or just keep standing there with that dopey smile?”

God, she's crabby today… Well- every day, but especially today.

You took a deep breath, straightened up, then released a long sigh. “So, you remember a while back, when I came up with the suggestion to get into a tournament and make some good coin?”

She said nothing, but you took that as a ‘yes’. Or more like a ‘yes, now hurry this up’.

“You were having issues with your arm that day and I was thinking how great it would be to get you an improved one. So, well, that’s what I did with my share of the winnings.”

Just as she arched a brow, Heinz came waddling back out carrying what was obviously her new arm. It was much larger than him, yet he seemed to have no issue handling it.

Well, that’s got to be a good sign. Must be lighter.

“Take a seat, Sally” he chirped, standing on a stool beside a small table littered with parts and tools.

Sevika gave you one last stern look before taking a seat beside the Yodle.

He pushed her cape out of the way and began working on removing her existing arm. “Now, I’m going to have to work in some additional connections to you for this to work properly, which I’m sure you will recall, can be a bit painful and could even bring back some of that phantom limb pain.”

Sevika said nothing, her face unreadable as her gaze drifted between her arm and random places around the room.

You, however, could not hide the concern that painted your face. When you had spoken to him about this over the past several weeks, he had not mentioned any pain or discomfort that would be involved. Your stomach sank.

Maybe this hadn’t been the right choice.

That thought ate away at your insides while you watched her apparent discomfort.

Once Sevika’s old prosthetic was removed from the shoulder socket, the Yordle began working on connecting the new electrodes.

You took a seat on Sevika’s opposite side, hoping to provide her some comfort with your closeness.

Her eyes darted everywhere, anywhere but at the sight of Heinz working on her arm. She was clearly trying to distract herself and remain calm, or at least appear calm. Pinched brows and worry lines gave her state away though.

Your gaze dropped to her human hand balled into a tight fist on her lap, her knuckles damn near white. Cautiously, so as not to startle her, you slid a hand over her fist. She immediately recoiled, pulling her hand away. The look she gave you damn near broke your heart. She was fighting between her desire to appear angry and her natural response of pain and fear. Those beautiful silver eyes of hers sparkled as if on the verge of tears. You were certain you’d never seen her so distraught.

You tried again to touch her, this time placing your hand on her thigh. She either didn’t mind or didn’t notice.

Heinz hummed loudly to some tune you’d never heard before, but it was drowned out with the thoughts- concerns- swirling through your head. This was likely stirring up bad memories for her.

Leaning in close to Sevika’s ear, you shakily whispered, “I’m so sorry Sevika. This was supposed to be a gift. To make you happy. To make you feel good.” You straightened up as she turned, her glistening eyes meeting your own.

Fuck.

Silco’s number one assassin and muscle were both on the verge of fucking tears.

Sevika’s throat bobbed as she swallowed hard. She said nothing, but you could tell she wanted to by how her lips parted and then shut again. She turned away again, staring off into nothingness.

You took a deep breath, then released it with a long, quiet sigh before leaning into her ear again. “Would you like a distraction?” When she said nothing, remaining turned away, you tried pushing a little more. “Want me to tell you all the cool shit this bad boy will do once we get you all hooked up?”

That caught her attention.

She turned back to you, gaze slightly less wavering.

Thank god.

You let a soft smile grace your lips as you started to slowly explain the advancements, your fingers idly caressing the top of her thigh as you spoke. “It’s made of a metal alloy and dipped in a chemical bath that makes it lighter, stronger, and completely submersible. Though the chemical film needs to be applied every other month, I’ve already paid that off and it’s only a ten minute process.”

That didn’t seem to impress her much, or at least not enough to distract her. But it also wasn’t the best improvement.

“No more loud, exposed fan. This baby is gonna be liquid-cooled via a special variant of shimmer we worked with Singed to create.”

Still not much improvement, but you had plenty more to go.

“Besides still being able to use that sexy-ass blade super-heated, that cooling feature can also be applied to it and cause a different kind of pain.”

Now that seemed to catch her interest. That or the way you’d emphasized the pain bit with an obvious sick delight in your tone.

The corner of her mouth twitched. An almost smirk.

“But not just your blade. Your fingers too,” you added with a small grin.

You watched the gears turn in her head.

“You can control the temperature as well. Not just to damaging levels, but also soothing- pleasurable levels,” you added with a wink.

She quirked a brow. Her eyes darted between you and the Yordle.

“Don’t worry,” you spoke in your normal tone, “He’s more deaf than a naked mole rat.”

Heinz continued to work, humming his obnoxious tune and completely oblivious to anything you were saying.

“It’s smoother, has less exposed joints, and can articulate more than the previous. AND- the claws are retractable now. So you can use those fingers on or in more… sensitive objects.”

There’s that smirk.

Sevika’s lips curled into her signature haughty grin, and just as Heinz finished adding in the new connection points.

“Alright, let’s get this on and give it a try,” the old Yordle squawked.

Both you and Sevika turned your attention to her shoulder as he shoved the arm into the socket with a surprising amount of strength, then gave it an equally hard turn to latch it into place.

“Go on, Sandra,” give it a try.

Sevika peered at you, to which you shrugged and offered her a small smile. She lifted her arm, shiny and new, embellished with bits of gold as you had requested. She deserved something fancy given what she’s done- what she’s sacrificed- for the sake of creating the future Zaun. One after the next, she flexed each individual finger. Each one moved surprisingly smoothly, with even more precision than her old prosthetic. Surprisingly, she was even able to retract and release her claws without the need for explanation.

You could see the impressed look gradually building on her face as she moved each joint, testing the speed, precision, and capability of each.

“I tapped into some unused nerves for the new temperature control for the blade and your fingers,” Heinz explained, “Still activated and deactivated the same way as it was for the plasma blade, only now the strength of the signal controls the temperature. Will take some getting used to. Fingers are activated by the muscles you would have used to bend your natural wrist, so it shouldn't be too hard to relearn.”

Like the goddamn showoff she was, Sevika immediately activated said upgrade, the three of you watching as her fingertips grew red hot, then quickly switched to an icy blue-white.

So fucking hot.

And cool.

You couldn't wait to see her use that to kill some bastard.

Or to tease you.

She held her arm out in front of her, the blade slicing through the air awfully close to your face.

Her smug grin grew wider and you rolled your eyes.

“Looks like everything is in functioning order!” the Yordle chirped loudly and hopped off his stool. He paused, then turned to you. “Oh! Did you tell her about the vibrating function?”

Your cheeks burned. You had planned on bringing that up in private.

“Still not sure why she wanted that,” he said to Sevika, “but we should test that before you leave.” Somehow, he was completely oblivious to the way your cheeks threatened to burst into flames, or that Sevika’s eyebrows had skyrocketed.

“Just above your wrist is a little access panel. Pop that open and push the little button,” he explained.

Sevika’s now deviously sparkling eyes fell on your nervous ones. After retracting her blade, she flipped the panel open, and sure enough, there was a small, red button. She pressed it, her lips immediately curling into a sinister little smile as her hand started vibrating.

“You can control the intensity and patterns of the vibrations- which I truly have no idea why your friend had so many strange requests- but those can be controlled by pressing the button until you find the desired setting.”

“No idea why you wanted this,” Sevika sneered, watching your face as she cycled through each setting. Her brow rose and arched at each wild setting, clearly amused with your perverted and selfish addition to her new arm.

You laughed awkwardly. “It’s for back massages.”

“What?” Heinz hollered.

“IT’S FOR BACK MASSAGES!” you hollered right back, perhaps with a bit too much venom behind it that time.

Sevika however, was terribly amused if that damn mirth-filled smirk and glint in her eyes was anything to go by.

“Ah. Yes,” the little Yordle agreed with a nod. “Well Savannah,” he said with a nod to Sevika, “and-” he paused at you, clearly having forgotten your name as well, “Shelly’s friend. I wish you both a good day. Pleasure doing business with you. And if you have any problems, you know where to find me!”

And with that, he plopped his oversized goggles back over his eyes and waddled back to his workshop.

You turned to Sevika, whose expression had fallen right back into that damn stoic and unreadable state.

“Are you mad at me?�� you asked softly.

“What?!” she asked incredulously. “Why would I be?”

You looked down at the floor as you spoke, “You seemed incredibly upset about the arm- and I was afraid it was causing you a lot of pain, and discomfort, and maybe bringing back some traumatic memories- I- I just hadn’t even thought of that. I really wanted you to like this. I wanted to give you something great. Cause you’ve been so wonderful to me and-”

You paused your ramblings for a moment, and braved taking a peek at her expression.

Oh fuck.

There was that damn heart-breakingly vulnerable look again. And she was the one unable to look at you.

Gods did it hurt to see her like that.

“Baby-” she started quietly, her raspy voice threatening to break. She released a long, defeated sigh and shook her head. She met your gaze and forced herself to continue. “It did hurt. It did bring back some haunting memories-”

Your heart sank into the pit of your stomach.

“-But,” she continued before you could spiral, “this is-” she paused again to hold her arm out. “-incredibly thoughtful. I can tell you put a lot of thought into this. And I…” she trailed off, her voice wavering.

But she didn't need to say more. You knew she was trying to thank you.

You stepped in front of her, toe-to-toe, and slowly wrapped your arms around her waist. You closed your eyes and pulled her into a tight embrace. For a moment, she merely stood there. Finally, after another long sigh, she wrapped her arms around you to return the hug.

It was as if all the remaining tension slipped away- from both of you. You could feel her muscles relax against you, the fingers of both her human and prosthetic hands gently caressing your sides.

You felt her press her lips gently against the top of your head.

“Thank you.”

She whispered it so softly, you weren’t sure you’d heard her right. But when you tilted your head back to peer up at her, you saw the genuine little smile playing on her lips. Then it curled higher, and you knew she was thinking something clever.

“Ready to go really try this out?” she purred.

Her fingers slipped down to give your ass a rough squeeze.

You beamed up at her. “You really need to ask?”

She chuckled, the deep rumble vibrating against your chest.

Gods did you love her laugh.

She wrapped her arm around your waist, guiding you towards the door. As she swung open the door and allowed you to step out first, she bent down to bring her lips to your ear. “Guess we’ll see just how wet these new fingers can really get.”

Bottom lip tucked between your teeth, you fought back the big smile that threatened to take over your face. Sevika's arm wrapped around your exposed middle did little to ease that excitement.

Sevika bent down, bringing her mouth to your ear, breath tickling the tiny hairs along your neck. "No peeking," she whispered.

You could hear her own excitement hidden in that low tone of hers. Had you not been wearing those damn heels she insisted you buy again, you would have been fucking skipping. "I'm not!"

"Good girl," she whispered against your hair. She pressed a soft kiss to the side of your temple, and you could feel her playful smirk.

You heard the familiar grind and clank of the lift coming to a halt and swinging open.

Where the hell was she taking you?

Sevika gently guided you onto the lift, closing the door with a soft click.

You turned towards her, keeping your eyes closed as instructed, but titled your head back as if looking up at her. "Where are you taking me?" You asked quietly, unsure if you two were alone.

You felt her arms wrap around your middle and pull you closer until your near-bare chests touched. "Gonna have to be patient, Princess."

You could hear the smirk in her tone, and you couldn't help but smile back. You wrapped your arms around her waist and rested your head just below her shoulder.

The lift traveled for quite some time, most certainly past the Promenade level. Which meant wherever she was taking you would be Topside. Perhaps that explained why she had you both wearing your fancy outfits again.

“Aren’t you afraid of being caught again? Especially in the same outfits?” you asked.

“We’ll be fine. Won’t be any Enforcers where we’re going.”

Someplace secluded?

Unable to contain your elation, you buried your face in her exposed chest to hide the enormous smile that spread across your face.

A soft chuckle made her chest shake against you. Her human hand stroked along the bottom of your spine.

When the lift finally came to a stop, you took in a deep breath, reveling in the fresh air that blew through the iron bars of the lift with a gentle breeze.

With her metal hand resting on the small of your back, Sevika carefully guided you out and onto the pavement.

With your eyes closed, you could truly hear all the commotion of the people filling the streets. That included the hushed whispers, most assuredly directed towards the two of you.

And as those voices grew louder and more dense the further you two walked, you were truly at a loss as to what her surprise could be.

Then you heard it.

That familiar, odd magical sound of the hexgate. And it was close. Very close.

"Two?" You heard a man ask in your direction, followed by Sevika pulling something from her jacket pocket. Then she was guiding you up a ramp.

Oh. My. God.

"Sevika!" You exclaimed as quietly as you could.

She said nothing, but gave your waist a gentle squeeze.

"Don't open your eyes," she repeated.

Your stomach did several backflips. You were quite certain you knew what was going on. It was just a matter of what exactly it would entail. That and when the hell she would let you look and thank her properly.

You heard more hustle and bustle, various accents not from around there, while she continued to lead you through what you assumed were hallways.

It wasn't until you heard the sound of a door closing and the click of its lock that you two were finally left in silence.

And alone.

"Can I look now?!" You asked, not bothering to hide the enthusiasm or impatience in your voice.

Sevika brought her lips to your ear again. "Go on."

You opened your eyes to find not only what you expected, but much- much more.

Directly in front of you was a large sliding glass door overlooking the outside of the airship you were on. An absolutely stunning view, with a private balcony. You almost didn't notice any other details besides that as you scurried over to peer out the clear glass and down to the tiny people scattered along the docks below. Your room must have been near the widest point of the sphere, leaving you two with the best- most unobstructed- view. You spun around with the intention of running to Sevika, but that was when you caught the remaining details of your room.

It was dimly lit, but not like the cheap lighting of the Undercity. It was intentional. Mood setting. All the furnishings were made of dark colors, much of it black. Your color palette of choice, but with mixes of deep hues of red and gold accents, also part of your favorite palette since falling head over heels for Sevika.

A small table for two sat before another window with an equally amazing view, already set with a bottle of whiskey- which made you chuckle out loud- plates, fancy dinnerware, candles, and menus.

The large four-post bed in the center of the room was furnished with the softest, sexiest looking black sheets you'd ever seen, despite the fact that there was likely to be very little sleeping going on in that room. Not with you two in it.

Then you finally met Sevika's gaze. Her dark lips pulled up at one corner, a small grin at the sight of your beaming face.

"Sevika, this is so- how did you even know I wanted to ride an airship?" You asked, absolutely flabbergasted that she had set all this up.

She strode over to stand in front of you. "Why don't we talk over dinner," she suggested, tilting her head towards the small table.

"O-okay," you stammered, still overcome with emotion.

Before you could turn away, she wrapped her arm around your waist and pulled you close. Thumb and forefinger captured your chin between, tilting your head back so she could slowly bring her lips to yours.

Your eyes fluttered shut, hands sliding up the silky material barely covering her chest to fist the collar of her jacket. You pulled yourself closer, reveling in the softness of her lips.

When she pulled away, you felt almost breathless despite the kiss being so much more tender than her usual wild, passionate ones. It took you a moment before you could even open your eyes, too lost in the moment and the feelings buzzing through your mind and body. But when you did, you were met with uncharacteristically soft gray eyes.

Warmth spread through your cheeks, her attentive gaze leaving you feeling entirely too giddy. Feeling suddenly shy, you looked away and let your hands fall back to your sides.

Just when you thought she couldn't be any sweeter, she surprised you yet again by pulling your chair out for you.

"Thank you," you said softly, completely genuine, unlike when the men at the tournament had done the same thing. This was entirely different, and meant so much more coming from Sevika.

Sevika's charm didn't end there either. After you took a seat, she opened the bottle of whiskey and poured you both a glass.

You peered up at her with a smile, pleased to find the corner of her mouth tugged into a small grin despite her obvious attempt not to. "You going to cook and serve dinner too?" You teased playfully.

As if on cue, you heard a knock at the door.

“Come in,” Sevika called out as she took a seat across from you.

The door opened to reveal a man dressed in a black and white suit, a folded towel draped over his arm, clearly a waiter.

You quickly snatched up your menu, unsure what kind of options you were going to find. After a quick scan, it was quite clear this was nothing like Jericho’s. And fuck if you even knew what half the things were, let alone how to pronounce them.

With the waiter at the side of your quaint table, you tried to catch Sevika’s gaze. Eventually, she did notice your pleading look, but simply peered back down at her menu with a crooked little grin.

Ass.

She had to know you were clueless as to what, or how, to order.

“We’ll have this,” Sevika stated to the waiter as she pointed to her menu.

Okay. Maybe that was a bit harsh.

“Of course, ma’am. Fine choice. And would you care for your dessert now or later?” he asked as he took both your menus.

“Just send it all in at once,” Sevika replied, then met your eyes as she continued, “We’d like to be alone as much as possible.”

“As you wish,” he replied with a bow before turning to leave.

As soon as you heard the door click shut, you blurted out, “What the hell did you just order us? Could you even read it?”

Sevika took a sip of her whiskey, but not without you fist catching the way her lips tugged higher. “Might have studied up a bit beforehand,” she admitted with a smug smile. “ Authentic Noxian cuisine,” she added in a mocking tone, clearly a jab at whoever had told her that was what they’d be serving.

“Why Noxian? Because of our disguises?”

“That, and that’s where we’ll be traveling.”

Your eyes went wide. “What?! Really?!”

Sevika nodded.

“How long are we going?”

“One week.”

“WHAT?! And Silco okayed that?”

“Wasn’t up for negotiation.”

You gaped at your lover like a damn fish. Had she really told Silco you two were going? Just like that? No asking? Just laid it out like he had no say?

“Wow,” was all you could manage to get out.

She chuckled lowly. “So, Princess Ameya, do you have any clue why Ran chose our names?”

“Well, yeah. They chose Princess for me to be an ass and give you an excuse to keep calling me that pet name despite us supposedly not knowing each other. And made you a warband leader because, well-” you swiped your hand in a horizontal motion in front of you, “- just look at you.”

Another, slightly louder and more mocking chuckle erupted from her chest.

“Not our titles, Princess. Our names.”

You took a sip of your own drink. “Ameya and Shakti?”

“Mhm.”

“I don’t know. Because they’re Noxian?”

“Not quite.”

“Well, I give up. Just tell me already, Shakti,” you replied with a dramatic roll of your eyes.

“For their meanings.”

“Which are?”

“Shakti- for ability and strength.”

Oh boy.

You rolled your eyes again. Ran wasn’t wrong for picking that one for Sevika, but god she did not need her ego stroked any further.

Then her smug smile faded into something more– adoring? “Ameya- for boundless devotion.”

Oh.

Your expression softened. Now you felt like the ass.

Not only was that incredibly sweet of Ran, but what touched you even more, was how that seemed to affect Sevika.

“Sevika, I…” You trailed off, not sure what to say. It didn’t matter anyway. A knock at the door brought an abrupt end to that conversation.

“Come in,” you called out this time, unsure if the interruption was an unwelcome one or a saving grace. For you or Sevika.

The waiter entered carrying a large tray full of food, followed by yet another waiter with a smaller sized tray. The first one, the one that had originally taken your order, emptied the various plates onto your shared table.

There were several courses worth of food. Far more than the two of you could possibly eat. Fancy hors d'oeuvres that you swear were too pretty to eat. Assorted vegetables, fruit, bread, and meats filled the other plates. Though you could not exactly identify any dish by name, you could tell that each one contained at least one of your favorite ingredients. Sevika had obviously picked them out for that very reason.

You bit the inside of your cheek, once again fighting the urge to smile broadly.

Sevika could tell though. When you met her gaze, you found her watching you intently, the corner of her mouth tugging upward at your obvious delight.

The other waiter, younger and clearly new given how he nearly dropped his tray, set it on a small end table just behind Sevika.

Curious, you leaned to your side to peer around her.

Dessert!

And it looked just like one of your favorites you remembered enjoying as a child.

“Is there anything else we can get either of you?” the older waiter asked.

Sevika turned to you.

You shook your head. There was enough food on those two tables to feed all of Silco’s crew.

“We're good,” Sevika stated gruffly.

With that, the two waiters nodded and took their leave.

“Sevika!” you gasped the moment the door shut behind them, “There is so much fucking food here!”

“Wasteful,” she muttered, but you caught the way she smirked at your enthusiasm to dig in.

The two of you had stuffed yourselves silly. Or at least you did. You weren’t sure silly could ever apply to Sevika without any sort of negating word preceding it. You did, however, make sure you left just enough room for some dessert.

“You’re not going to eat the cherry?” you asked, flabbergasted as you watched Sevika pull hers off the dessert and set it aside.

“No.”

“Can I have it?”

Sevika shrugged her shoulders, but eyed you wearily when you rose from your seat to saunter over with a suspicious smile on your face.

Making sure she was watching you, you plucked up the cherry by the stem and slowly brought it to your mouth. With a very deliberate- and sensual- swipe of your tongue, you licked the remaining cream from the fruit. An overly enthusiastic moan rose from your throat as the sweet taste filled your mouth.

Sevika shook her head.

There was no fooling you though. You saw how her mouth curled into a tiny crooked grin at your little performance. So you continued to play.

You made a show of wrapping your lips around the cherry before pulling it from the stem. More inappropriate moans filled the room as you chewed and swallowed the sweet red fruit.

And then, for the cherry on top (pun intended), you called her attention back to your mouth. “Watch this.” You were met with a bored expression, but you knew she’d find this entertaining. Even if she may not admit it.

You put the stem in your mouth, using your tongue to expertly fold, curl, and push it into a small knot. Trick complete, you stuck your tongue out, plucked the knot from your tongue, and tossed it onto Sevika’s plate.

She stared down at it for a moment, face unreadable, before finally turning her attention back to you with a smirk.

Ha!

She was impressed!

Or so you thought.

“If your tongue is so bored you need to do silly parlor tricks with it-” she sneered, and you realized this wasn’t going where you’d thought it was. “-why don’t I give you something better to occupy it with.”

“But what about my dessert?”

Sevika arched a single brow. “ This-” she emphasized as she turned to face you with spread thighs, “- is your dessert, Princess.”

Heat bloomed in your core and spread throughout your lower half. A dull ache followed in its wake when your eyes fell to the apex of those powerful thighs.

You slowly dropped to your knees between the spread of her legs, eyes locked on hers. Your tongue slipped out to wet your lips. God, were you hungry for her. Your eyes drifted to the dessert lying untouched on her plate. But you were hungry for that too.

"You want both, don't you?"

Your gaze darted back to her, eyes wide, fearful you had upset her. To your surprise, her smirk still remained. “Can I have both?” you asked softly.

“So greedy,” she teased.

“You could have both too,” you offered with a sly smile.

She arched a brow. “That so?”

“Mhm,” you answered with a nod.

She said nothing more, but picked up her fork and cut a small piece of dessert. Gray eyes fell to your lips again as she brought it to your mouth.

Wrapping your lips around the fork, you let your eyes flutter shut and a moan pull from your throat as you slowly slid the sweet treat off and into your mouth.

Sevika hummed softly, appreciatively.

Eyes open again, you peered at her own mouth. “Do I get to feed you too?” you asked with pleading eyes.

She chuckled softly before handing the fork to you.

With a giddy grin on your face, you rose higher on your knees and cut a piece of equal size.

Sevika looked as if she was fighting back her amusement as you excitedly brought the fork up to her mouth. “Say ‘ah’,” you said playfully.

She deadpanned, her lips pulled into a straight line, and for a moment you worried she may have changed her mind.

“Just- don’t,” she grunted.

“Ok. Sorry.” Your lie was more than evident with how you continued to smile up at her.

She finally opened her mouth, but only just enough for you to slip the bite inside. Unlike you, she did not add any theatrics whatsoever to her eating.

Party pooper.

You handed the fork back to her and she fed you another, considerably larger bite. This time she was the one to wear the grin, watching with mirth as you attempted to open wide enough. She didn’t allow you the time to make a show of it either, shoving the piece in immediately. Cream smeared across your lips where it didn’t fit.

“Uh-uh,” Sevika chided before you could attempt to lick your lips clean. When you obediently paused, she dragged the pad of her thumb sensually across the crease of your lips.

Before she could pull that digit away, you wrapped your lips around it and sucked, swirling your tongue around the tip and cleaning it of all the sweet cream.

She watched your mouth with unabashed lust, pupils dilating. Once satisfied with your teasing, she pulled her thumb back out with a wet pop.

“Good girl,” she murmured.

Just as she had given you an oversized bite, you in turn did the same for her. And you made sure to get cream on those delicious dark lips of hers too. She, however, seemed far less amused by it than you were. But you’d change that.

Without warning, you grabbed a fistful of the collar of her jacket and pulled her down to you. She released a startled grunt, which you ignored, and promptly ran the tip of your tongue across her top lip, then the bottom.

You had expected her to pull away, but to your surprise, you felt her flesh fingers slip behind your head and her lips pressed into yours. Your short startled gasp dissolved into a soft moan when her tongue slipped between your lips.

Neither of you were in the most comfortable position, but Sevika was quick to remedy that. Both her hands slipped around and beneath your ass. Fingers sank into the plush of each cheek as she hoisted you up into her lap while her tongue continued to explore your mouth.

Hands still firmly gripping her jacket, you tried to match her fervor by pulling her closer. It was impossible though, given how her tongue easily dominated yours.

Heart hammering in your chest, you felt lightheaded from the lack of oxygen. Finally, you broke the kiss. Struggling to catch your breath, you gazed down at her wantonly. “I- I’ll take that- other dessert- now.”

That was all it took for her to lift you up as she rose from her chair.

With your legs wrapped around her waist and your arms around her neck, you locked eyes with hers. Her mouth found yours again, kissing you hungrily as she carried you towards the bed.

She crawled onto the bed, holding your body close to her. She carried you up to the pillows before dropping you rather unceremoniously onto them and subsequently breaking the kiss.

She knelt over you, gray eyes nearly black with lust.

“Gonna be hard on me now?” you asked breathlessly, a playful smile playing on your lips.

“Is that what you want?” she husked.

“So I get to choose?”

She sat up, shrugging off her jacket and tossing it aside without looking. “I didn’t say that.”

Your gaze fell to the expanse of exposed flesh between the generous opening in her dress shirt before darting back up to her face. “But you ask-”

“Asked if that’s what you want.” Her mouth curled into a lopsided grin and you knew she was just toying with you. She pulled her top off and tossed it aside, then unfastened the belt at her waist, making short work of that as well.

You watched her undress, admiring the view of her swiftly stripping down her pants and underwear. "Is both an option for this too?" you asked and smiled up at her.

She gazed at your smile adoringly. "You're just never satisfied with one thing, are you Princess?" She kicked off her shoes and socks, quickly slipping her clothing the rest of the way off before straddling your chest.

Fuck, you could already smell her arousal.

"I just want to have my cake and eat it too," you quipped.

"Then that's what you'll get." Sevika husked as she lined herself up over your face.

Flesh fingers slid through your hair until they rested at the back of your head. She carefully lifted your head up as she sank lower.

Your breaths came on quicker, excitement already building. Tongue out and ready, you let your eyes flutter shut as her wet folds met your lips. The moment the taste of her filled your mouth, you felt your body temperature rise. Your arms moved on their own accord, wrapping around the powerful thighs on either side of your head. Your hands slid up the sides until they rested comfortably over her hips.

The low, quiet groan that pulled from her throat shot straight to your core. The ache built fast, spreading down your legs. With each swipe of your tongue along her entrance, you could hear her own breathing becoming more strained, encouraging you to work your tongue more.

Using the grip on her hips as leverage, you dipped your tongue inside her cunt and pulled her against you, sinking as deep as you could. With the tip of your tongue curled and pressed along her soft walls, you slowly drug back out.

“Fuck, baby,” Sevika cursed under her breath.

Fingernails dug into your scalp. You welcomed the sensation, releasing your own moan against her wet cunt. You licked a stripe across the entirety of her entrance, tip of your tongue pulling back just before reaching the bundle of nerves above.

Sevika bucked her hips toward your face. Her clit dragged along your nose, another groan rising from her throat. “I’m gonna- fuck that pretty face- so good,” she ground out while she rocked against your face.

With your tongue pushed out as far as you could manage, you allowed her to set the pace. Your hands at her hips helped guide her motions, and keep her from completely suffocating you. Not that you would have minded that.

The tension quickly built for both of you, but all you could manage to ease your own was to rub your thighs together.

Her pace quickened, breaths ragged and grunts broken. It was maddening how hot she was like this. You slowly opened your eyes, peering up past her sweat-slick abs and heaving breasts. Her face contorted in pleasure and concentration, brows pinched and lips parted. Her eyes were focused on where her cunt met your wet face, but you weren’t so certain she could truly see it. The blacks of her eyes had almost completely taken over the gray.

You released a keening whimper against her, mind reeling with how turned on you were. Unable to take it any longer, you slid one hand off her thigh and beneath the skirt of your dress to circle your clit. Your eyes closed again, relishing in the sounds of her grunts, panting, and broken groans. The feeling of her soaked pussy dragging along your tongue and nose combined with your own touch was dizzying.

God, you would gladly have her like this all fucking night if it weren’t for how sore your poor jaw would get.

Then, all of a sudden, she stopped.

Your eyes flew open to peer up at her. She was still pressed against your tongue and nose, but no longer moving. Her eyes were glossed over, barely open as they peered down at you. Her chest still heaved with her ragged breaths.

Did she already cum?

There was no way. You’ve had her cumming far too many times. You knew how her body reacted when she did, and she definitely had not gone through any of the usual.

Before you could attempt to move your mouth enough to ask, she finally grunted out, “Take your clothes off and lay on your side.” She moved off to kneel next to you.

“What?” you asked, dumbfounded. “Was I not doing well enough?”

She looked as if she was about to get angry until she caught the sincere concern in your eyes.

"No, baby. You- were doing great,” she panted. Then her lips curled into a smirk, or at least as much of a smirk she could manage given how worked up she was. “I want my dessert too.”

Your eyes went wide with realization. You two had not done that before. More than eager to give it a try, you quickly- or as quickly as you could given the complexity of your skimpy dress- stripped down.

You laid on your side as instructed.

“Lift your top leg,” you grunted as she lay down in the opposite direction on her side, facing you.

Obediently, you bent your leg and rested your foot on the bed and out of her way. You watched her scoot her lower half closer to your face before lifting her leg into the same position as yours, leaving her glistening cunt wide open for you.

Eager to get back to it, not to mention receive your own pleasure, you rested your head on the thigh she had lying on the bed. You could feel the mattress shift as she adjusted more, swinging her other leg over your head. Then you felt the tickle of her hair and the weight of her head on your thigh.

“You’re already so wet Princess,” she huffed, still not quite recovered from your previous ministrations. “You really get so worked up just eating pussy?”

“Your pussy,” you clarified.

You could feel her smirk without even seeing her.

With one hand firmly gripping her asscheek, you pulled her closer to your face and wrapped your lips around her swollen bud. Her hips jerked, pushing her cunt against your nose. You smiled against her, but she wiped that clear off your face the moment you felt her tongue dip between your wet folds.

“Oh god,” you groaned, releasing her from your mouth.

She dipped her tongue in further, her chin bumping against your clit.

This was going to be very difficult.

You took her clit back between your lips, alternating between light suction and teasing swirls or flicks of your tongue.

Sevika took a slightly different approach, fucking you with her tongue. She slid in quickly, chin pressing against your clit each time, then drug back out slowly.

Any tension you had lost in that short intermission to change positions immediately started to rebuild. You were pretty sure it did for Sevika too given how hot and ragged her breaths felt between your legs.

The moment her hips started rocking, you knew she was getting close. Your face was coated in her fluids, but it only made that coil in your belly pull tighter. Her tongue worked up to match the speed of her thrusting, bringing you close to the edge as well.

Mind filled with the haze of pleasure, you started to lose the ability to control your lips and tongue.

“Don’t you stop, or I will!” Sevika growled against your cunt.

The rumble of her voice resonated all the way through your lower half and you almost came right then and there. “No! Please don’t stop,” you cried out. “I’m sorry, it just feels so-” your last word was cut off by her wet slit slamming against your face.

Fucking impatient.

Your fingers tightened their grip on her ass, trying to ground yourself and manage her movement so could return your attention to her clit. Lips wrapped back around the swollen bud, you sucked and licked, trying to work a rhythm you knew would get her going.

“That’s it,” Sevika grunted. “Fuck, yeah baby. Don’t stop.” Now the one struggling to utilize her mouth, she slipped two fingers inside you, clear to the last knuckle.

You whined against her, eyes squeezed shut tight as you desperately tried to focus on getting her to completion so you could then have your own.

And then- praise whatever deity heard your cry for help- her top leg came crashing down, sandwiching your head between her powerful thighs. Her hips jerked erratically, cunt dragging against your face as her orgasm took over her body. Her fingers faltered inside you. Not that it mattered though. The moment you felt that spurt of warm liquid coat your tongue and fill your mouth, you were falling off the cliff with her.

Unable to pull away from the death grip of her thighs, your muffled cries drowned against her slick hole. Your toes curled and uncurled as shock after shock of pleasure shook through your body.

“Shit, baby!” Sevika cursed.

Her words were barely a hum between the clamp of her thighs and the blood roaring in your ears.

After the last aftershocks died off, the two of you simultaneously rolled away from each other and collapsed onto your backs.

You gazed up at the black chandelier hanging from the ceiling, lost in a daze. Your chest rose and fell with deep breaths, heart still hammering in your chest,

“That was so fucking hot,” you panted. You shifted your head, craning your neck to peer down at Sevika. She was in the same position, looking back at you nearly as fucked out as you were. However, her face was completely coated with your release. Far more than usual.

Your eyes went wide as saucers.

“Oh my god Sevika. Your face!”

“I know,” she huffed. “I felt it.” Her lips pulled into a weak smirk. “You must have really enjoyed that position.”

“I did,” you admitted with a shy smile. “That was so fucking sexy. Difficult. But sexy.”

“Hmm,” she hummed with a crooked grin.

You wiped the excess fluid from your face with the back of your hand as she flipped over and turned to crawl up your body.

She hovered over your face for a moment, just wearing that haughty grin that always left you wanting to slap her or fuck her. Or both.

You opened your mouth to ask her what she found so damn amusing when her slick-coated lips suddenly crashed into yours. Your gasp quickly dissolved into a soft moan when she pushed her tongue inside your mouth, forcing you to taste your own release. Your hands slid up and around her back to pull her flush against your body.

The two of you were a fucking mess. Her mouth- no- her whole face, and now yours as she kissed you sloppily. Your thighs. Her thighs. And the longer you two kissed, the more you two ground against each other, spreading your slick up each other's stomachs,

Before the two of you could get too worked up again, Sevika finally broke the kiss and ceased her motions. You peered up at her through half-lidded eyes. Both your chest and hers heaved with renewed excitement and desire.

“As much as I want to fuck you again, I’m spent from this morning.” she huffed.

You smiled up at her. This mornin g had been a bit of a fuck fest when the two of you were in the shower. Memories of that weren’t exactly helping your current predicament though. But you were tired too.

“Maybe later?” you asked with a cheeky smile.

You were met with her crooked grin. “If you’re a good girl.”

“And if I’m bad?”

“We’ll do it twice.”

You laughed, more than happy with either of those outcomes.

Sevika rolled over and onto her back, her human arm pulling you with her so you curled up against her side.

You gave her cheek a quick peck before snuggling up closer to her warm body.

You’re not sure how long you two were lying there in your post-coital bliss, but you both had drifted in and out of sleep several times. You lay tangled in the soft, black sheets, limbs just as tangled with Sevika’s. Your head rested just below her shoulder, her heartbeat a lulling melody in your ear. Your fingers traced along the smooth, hard planes of her abs.

Her flesh fingers combed through your hair while her metal ones traced random patterns along your skin.

Despite how delightfully relaxed and comfortable it felt to be snuggled up to her, the two of you were unfortunately terribly hot after your romp. Not to mention Sevika was just a natural furnace.

“I need to cool off,” you said softly.

“Hmm,” she hummed, chest rumbling beneath your head.

“Come outside with me?” you asked, lifting your head to peer down at her.

Her lazy gaze met yours, but she said nothing.

You pressed a soft kiss to the tip of her nose. “Please?”

With a resigned sigh, she started to sit up.

After placing one more kiss, this time on her scarred cheek, you rolled off her and started gathering up your clothing, which was really just your skimpy dress.

“Go on. I’ll grab us a drink,” Sevika stated while she finished pulling her pants up.

The moment you stepped out onto the balcony you were greeted by a chilly breeze. You wrapped your arms across your chest, hands rubbing up along the sides of your arms, elbows resting on the golden railing.

Sevika appeared next to you shortly after, a glass of whiskey in hand. She offered it to you, which you took with a soft smile.

Her metal fingers trailed down one of your arms, leaving behind goosebumps in its wake. You shivered, but felt her step closer, the warmth of her body welcoming.

"Cold?" She asked against your ear.

Despite the pleasant warmth of her breath along your neck, her husky voice sent another shiver down your spine.

"Yes."

Next thing you knew, she had backed away, only to replace that lost heat with the warmth of her suit jacket draped over your shoulders. Standing by you once again, she wrapped her human arm around your waist and pulled you closer to her side.

You rested your head just below her shoulder and sighed contentedly. Her warmth, scent, embrace, and the lulling sound of her heartbeat filled you to the brim with the most wonderful feelings. Safe, happy, and cared for.

You both stood like that for a while– silently staring off into the endless distance, occasionally taking sips of your shared whiskey. The night sky was so much different than what you two saw beneath the depths of the Undercity. Hues of gold, pink, orange, and even violet painted the horizon. It was truly beautiful. Not that you wouldn't call your home beautiful. Just a different type of beauty. One you had to live with to fully understand and appreciate.

"The sky really is pretty up here," you sighed.

"I've seen prettier."

Brows furrowed in confusion, you peered up at Sevika. Before you could ask where, you knew the answer with the way she looked at you so adoringly.

Your stomach fluttered, cheeks warming. "You're really gonna have to work hard tonight to make up for all this softness," you joked with a shy smile.

She said nothing, simply grinned down at you with that knee-weakening smile and set her glass down on the small table beside her. She pressed her forefinger beneath your chin, tilting your head back.

To your surprise, she didn't immediately go in for a kiss. Instead, she gently swiped the pad off her thumb across your bottom lip, her eyes glittering silver in the remaining sunlight peeking up past the horizon. They danced across your face as if taking in every feature like they were something to treasure.

Your heart swelled, almost painfully so. Then, her silver eyes met yours. Locked them into the most adoring gaze, and you felt as if your chest would burst open. “Sevika, I-” you started softly, nearly choking as your throat constricted with your brimming emotion. You swallowed hard, then tried again. “This was all so wonderful. And- and I don’t mean just this ride on the airship. I mean everything. Everything you’ve ever done for me. Sevika, I-” You paused, another swallow as tears welled in your eyes. You had to get this off your chest. It weighed so heavy, but you just couldn’t quite do it. Held back by what though? Fear? Fear of her not reciprocating? Of her leaving? Or what it could mean if she felt the same?

Sevika almost seemed to not hear you, her head slowly canting to the side and lowering.

You licked your dry lips. One more try. You had to say it now. “Sevika, I lo-” Your words died in your throat as she pressed her lips to yours in a mind-numbingly tender kiss.

Head completely empty of all words, you gave into her kiss and pressed your lips further against hers. Turning fully towards her, you wrapped your arms loosely around her neck, fingers threading through her silky, soft strands.

You didn’t know if that interruption was a sign that perhaps it wasn’t the right time. Or if it was a way for her to say she felt the same without actually saying it. Whatever it was, it didn’t really matter. You knew how you felt about her. And you knew she felt something equally strong. It was only words.

And you had all you needed. Your reward.

Her.

[hippolotamus]

writing patterns ✏️

rules: share the first line of your last ten published works or as many as you are able and see if there are any patterns!

tagged by @wikiangela @dangerpronebuddie thank you loves 💖

my flesh it was my currency [BuckTommy | E]

“Ohgodohgodohgodohfuck!” Buck babbles, clawing at the bed sheets, panting and gasping, his words slurring and blending even further into a single high-pitched incoherent whine.

late for the love of my life [Eddie pining/background Eddie/Marisol]

“Hey, handsome,” Marisol murmurs in a sleepy voice. She stretches and stands from the armchair, walking over to wrap her arms around Eddie’s waist and give him a peck on the lips. “How was the ceremony?”

late for this, late for that [BuckTommy]

“Not late. Right on time,” Evan sighs, content and sated, turning in Tommy’s arms so they’re back-to-chest, bare skin pleasantly warm at every point of contact.

honey, when you call my name [Buddie | E]

He can do this. He wants to. These are his friends. His family. His people. Frankly, after a shitty week at dispatch running the LAFD Twitter account, he deserves to be here.

it's tempawrary [Stevie | Schitt's Creek]

Stevie is at least 87% certain this week can’t possibly get worse. For starters, she’s in the motel lobby surrounded by overstuffed bankers’ boxes. Boxes that now belong to her, courtesy of Aunt Maureen’s highly inconvenient death.

stay here honey (i don't wanna share) [Lutalia | E]

Lucy drapes one arm around Natalia, burying her nose in her hair. Nat smells like the overpriced mousse from the salon. Like sweat and sex. She smells like Lucy. That knowledge sparks a primal, possessive urge, just enough to make itself known. The one Lucy isn’t ready to admit to having and Natalia won’t admit to loving.

if this love is pain (let's hurt tonight) [Buddie]

Eddie knows it’s him immediately. Feels the weight of his presence like a favorite coat that doesn’t quite fit anymore. Of course he does. Try as he might, Eddie will never not know when Buck is nearby.

with eyes wide open i tore you apart [Buddie]

“Which is why I have to make the most of every single moment.” 

if i'm being honest (it scares me to death) [Buddie]

Just got in. See you tomorrow. 

the only thing that matters now (is everything) [Twylexis | cw: vague reference to medical issues]

Alexis combs her fingers through her hair, letting manicured nails lightly scratch along her scalp while she stares at the ceiling.

i guess the prominent pattern is dialogue (internal or external) and just kind of throwing readers into the story. and a big fan of parentheses in the title 🫶

np tagging LOML @bidisasterevankinard @diazsdimples @daffi-990 @diazheartsbuckley @stereopticons

@tizniz @bi-buckrights @beyourownanchor6 @shipperqueen6 @saybiwithme

@your-catfish-friend @steadfastsaturnsrings @lemonzestywrites @monsterrae1 @loveyouanyway

@the-likesofus @thekristen999 @spotsandsocks @theotherbuckley @lonelychicago and anyone else who wants to 😘