#i know me being slow to answer asks is nothing new but i still feel bad about it

[babybratzmaraj]

When we getting yo spin on Aaron Pierre frenn 👀👀👀

the time has come. YOU SHALL BE BLESSED

Any Time, Any Place

Aaron Pierre as Terry Richmond

You as Yourself

Summary: You just had to fuck around and find out on this one particular night, the same night you and Terry go out!

Warnings: Possessiveness up the ass, breeding kink if you squint, rough sex, size kink, established relationship, im missing some but my coochie is rawring.

A/N: Now listen, ik you asked this like 2-3 months ago, but i told you it was coming! megan! um i thank ms big bertha for helping me finish this, i owe her one😏

This man, this man is something else. You and Terry went to his former military friend’s homecoming party! The vibes were great and everyone was nice to you! even got a ‘I see you nephew’ from one of the older ones.

But something about his glare, his hands feeling on you in public and more sultry in private, his kisses on your cheek leaving you flustered, too flustered to even finish the conversation with some of his friends. But you managed, tonight was a good night! The vibes were good, the music was amazing, even got new shit to add to your playlist! Your hair was dyed, fried, and laid to the side, the curls bouncing with every move you took, and the wind having the right amount of umph to blow it correctly, felt like a Disney princess. Too much of a princess, it wasn’t long till you two were pulled up behind a family dollar with your legs in the air, his eyes looking like what boiling water would feel like.

The whole night he was giving you glares, was to warn you, the hands that traveled your body, were to warn them, the private kisses were to remind you, but you didn’t pick up on nothing, poor you, you didn’t know! You were just enjoying people being friendly.

“I’m sorry!” you managed to cry aloud, his hands at the perfect spot to hold you in place, the faint but still strong scent of Gin tainted his lip, his strokes matching the mighty smell.

“I bet you are ma, but I can’t have you being friendly to these niggas.” he said ever so sweetly, slowing his strokes to match his tone, the feeling of feeling him twitch inside you drove you mad, the kisses he gave you trailing onto your neck once you couldn’t keep contact.

“I wasn’t trying to be niceee,” you tried to plead your case with tears of pleasure stinging your eyes, threatening to fall but it’ll mix well with the sweat that ruined your hair, it wasn't the only reason though. “Then what were you?”

You attempted to answer his question, jarring your lips to fix up a sentence, but you were too slow.

Terry slammed into you continually, each and every slam and thrust he gave you found a new place to dig out. His eyebrows furrowed as he lingered for your answer, knowing good and Christ juice you couldn’t answer. this nigga was evil.

He slammed into you once more resulting in you screaming, staying still in an attempt to not cum inside you, but you just looked too exquisite at this angle, the soft white light emitting from above shined across your face, your eyebrows scrunched, and your mouth permanently ajar.

“You can scream but can't answer? I said,” he began to repeat, slowly rocking his hips into you. “I don't know!”

“At least you're honest, that shit ain't cutting it.” He told you, maintaining his pace exactly where and how it was. His tone is mean yet delicate, his eyes still burning into your skin leaving different patches of hotness until your whole body warms up again.

“This my pussy right?” You nodded, “And Nobody will ever get it right?” you nodded your head obediently, “And nobody’s gonna take what's mine?” his voice nearly going primal, his pace quickening at the idea of someone attempting to take what was his.

“Nooooo,” You slurred on your words, drunk off his loving, high off this moment, rolling your eyes back to see your own little sky with stars with a biggg shooting star as your orgasm washed through you, your body jerking around violently as Terry held you steady, giving you two more pumps before sliding out, leaning back to watch you melt further into the backseat.

When you came to, you looked down to see Terry slowly stroking himself, “Knees.” He commanded, your knees buckled as you could hardly move but you obeyed, perking your ass up in the air, teasing him a little.

His hefty hand landed on your cheek a few times, each time leaving a pleasurable sting behind. You heard him shuffle behind you, lining himself up with your entrance, swiping your pussy with his dick making you clench over nothing.

“This your dick right? Show me.” Terry insisted, pushing only the tip driving you madly in love.

You slid down on him with ease, a guttural moan fleeing the two mouths as the feeling of being together again, feeling the chemistry oozing off of each other, it was something that couldn’t be replaced.

You grabbed a hold of the driver’s seat as you threw your ass back onto him, arching your back some more, the clapping intensified times ten.

“Fuckk,” Terry cursed lazily as he fucked you back, giving each cheek a little smacked turning that spot more redder, caressing the right one as the left one was left to die, that asshole!

You felt Terry's presence grow closer as his chest rested on your upper back. His left hand snaked around to keep your face to his as he attacked your lips, the taste of gin deepening your taste buds as you savor the flavor of him, moaning into his mouth.

His left hand released your face, kissing your back before pinning your face down onto the seat, his right hand placed in the small of your back, bending your back in a way you didn’t think it could bend.

He moaned deeply, his languidish strokes reminding you of one thing: This pussy was his and to never let another nigga think he has a chance. Truly, you learned from this experience but will try again when you recover from this in 7-10 business years.

You felt a familiar sensation forming in the pit of your stomach, Terry sensed this and evilly went deep, hitting all new spots as he damn near bottomed out in you. “I want you to cum on this dick and I want you to cum now.” but little did he know you were waiting on his approval.

You erupted into a screaming, shaking mess, the sounds of squelching and slapping of skin drowning out the music.

Terry gave you three sharp thrusts before nutting in you, painting your walls like you were a canvas, and it created a beautiful scene. Terry collapsed on top of you, breathing heavily into your ear feeling accomplished that he was able to go through with his ‘Punishment’ beating the last score of 3 to 7.

“I love you,” Terry said innocently, kissing you gently, whimpering as he slowly pulled out of you. “But Don’t do that shit again.”

You flopped onto the backseat as you stuck up a thumbs up, your arm flopping back down as you heard him laugh.

Fin ♥️

Youve got Mail!📥 @megamindsecretlair @theebaddesttt @thecapodomme @henneseyhoe @planetblaque @kindofaintrovert @blackerthings @harmshake

[allwaswell16]

[4 pics, 4 quotes, 4 iconic 1D fics]

Iconic fics by ...

- disgruntledkittenface -

[1]

“So,” he says casually, looking from Nick back to Louis, “you and Nick didn’t come back to the bar last night.”

And the sentence just hangs in the air between them, like an accusation. Louis can practically see the effort Harry’s putting in to keep his face neutral, but the intense frog expression creeps its way back in. And suddenly Louis get it.

Harry is jealous.

He wants to laugh. It’s preposterous to think of, being jealous of Nick of all people. Nick who can see Louis’ feelings for Harry written all over his face and in everything he does.

“Yeah, after we went for a smoke, I just felt like going home,” Louis explains, biting back a smile. Knowing he’s not being clear enough, he continues, “Nick just walked with me, stretching those ridiculous legs of his, I guess, but Liam picked him up as soon as we got back to my apartment building.”

Harry is still glowering. It’s ridiculous. It’s so fucking cute. Louis is so fucked.

[2]

“I do! We do,” Harry says, looking at Louis, who smiles warmly at him. “I just always thought I would adopt, but I guess I see the issues here for, like… succession?”

“Yes, my successor has to be a biological relative,” Louis says gently. “Lottie wants no part of it, that’s why she was so eager to donate eggs. And I’m not sure if she’ll have children of her own.”

“It is actually a matter of state,” Hervé adds, not unkindly. “Securing the line of succession secures Monaco’s status as an independent principality. If there is no biological heir, upon the prince’s passing then the state would be absorbed by France.”

“Oh, fuck,” Nick mutters, summing up how Harry feels. Well, he wasn’t wrong when he tried to tell Harry what a big fucking deal all of this would be. 

[3]

“Sorry to bother,” he says lowly, dripping sarcasm. “But would you mind shutting the fuck up? You’re ruining the show for the rest of us with your passive-aggressive bullshit.”  

Harry automatically twists around to see the couple’s response; it looks like husband is gearing up for a retort, but there are quiet murmurs of agreement from the people around them, and the man on his seatmate’s other side even claps him on the back in thanks. Chagrined, the couple slump down in their seats, their lips unhappily sealed.

Harry turns to the man next to him, who’s already looking at him from under the smudge of long, dark lashes that frame his blue eyes. A slow grin overtakes Harry’s face as he meets the man’s steady gaze. For once his words don’t fail him, and he leans in just close enough so the man will be able to hear him as he whispers “thank you.”

[4]

“Is that another new tattoo, Z?” she asks, reaching out and gently turning Zayn’s arm to get a better look. “Oh, yin yang, right?”

Louis immediately squeezes Harry’s thigh, turning to her with wide eyes, but Harry’s too busy fishing for a thin slice of cucumber at the bottom of her glass to register what’s happening. Zayn is still holding her arm out so Liam can see the tattoo when she glances up and Louis pointedly looks from her to the tattoo and back again. Harry’s confused face is adorable, she looks like a disgruntled kitten trying to surmise what Louis is attempting to silently communicate. It takes a minute, but understanding finally dawns in her eyes and she claps her large hand over her mouth, her shoulders shaking with laughter.

“What?” Zayn asks, throwing a dirty look at them.

“Nothing,” Louis manages in a strangled voice. “Nothing! Great tattoo. Harry? Shall we?”

- Answers Below -

[1] you came into my life

They stand around talking for a minute and then Jonathan starts to ramble, “Has there ever been, like, an unrequited gay love story in here? Like a Brokeback Mountain moment where, like, someone just fell in love and they didn’t mean to?”

Louis feels bile rise in his throat as Jonathan’s eyes sparkle, pleading for a yes. He manages to look around and see thoughtful looks on his coworkers’ faces before their heads shake no.

“Not here,” Liam says finally.

When the Queer Eye cast and crew sweep into Louis’ small town and fire station to make over his best friend and coworker Liam, Louis’ carefully constructed walls start to fall down and he has to face his fears – and the only guy he’s ever been able to see a future with.

[2] Darling, so it goes

Harry Styles is a world-famous actor at the height of his career but a personal low point when he meets His Serene Highness Prince Louis of Monaco by chance. He doesn’t think they’ll ever see each other again, but after striking up a correspondence, it turns out they have more in common than he thought. Then they start to fall for each other. Louis is different from anyone Harry has dated before and their relationship moves fast as Harry realizes he’s ready for a change. Soon Harry finds himself adapting to an entirely new life, in a country where he doesn’t know the rules, the customs, even the language. Harry is used to people underestimating him, and he’s more determined than ever to prove them wrong.

He just needs Louis to meet him halfway.

Grace Kelly AU.

[3] just one look (and i fell so hard)

Louis takes a small step back, breaking the moment first. “Well, I should–” 

“Do you want to come up?” 

The words are out of Harry’s mouth before he’d even planned them, and he bites his lip.  

“Oh, thank god,” Louis laughs, stepping back into Harry’s space. “I wasn’t, um…” 

“Wasn’t ready to let go of you yet,” Harry finishes quietly, glancing up at Louis. 

“Yeah,” Louis nods, reaching up and twirling one of Harry’s curls in his fingers. “Yeah, exactly.”

Harry has wanted to go to the Shubert Theatre ever since he moved to New York and lucked into a rent-controlled apartment just outside of the Theatre District. When he finally gets his chance, he hopes the night can meet his sky-high expectations. But the last thing he could have expected was the man seated next to him.

[4] i must admit i thought i'd like to make you mine

Louis fell apart when her ex broke up with her and moved across the country. Just as she’s starting to move on, Zayn comes back to town for their mutual friends’ wedding – with a new girlfriend as her plus one.

Blindsided and scrambling to save face, Louis lets herself get talked into a fake relationship with her new friend Harry. Their arrangement makes Louis feel pathetic and embarrassed, but it’s only going to last a few weeks. She just has to get through the wedding – what could happen?

[minevn]

(sorry for mistakes) Please forgive me if I'm prying into my own business, but how are you feeling? I just hope you are taking good care of your physical and mental health! (*ﾉωﾉ)

You're fine! thank you for asking, sorry I've been slow as usual with updates, I still think about Mine every day but right now I'm struggling to balance my college work and my personal life. It's my first semester and I'm a little slow at getting into the hang of it. I also just recently got a significant other so I'm also trying to give them my time as well. That said I haven't had much time to draw so when I do I feel like I've lost a lot of skill. I want to get to a point where I feel both comfortable and confident to finish the refs, but I still would like to get out colored mini sketches of the rest of the cast. That said asks will also be completed slowly, I'm so upset, I got a valentines day ask and i wanted to finish it in time but I got busy with college work :( I also wanted to celebrate White day this year but it most likely wont happen on time. Other then that I've been well, thank you for asking. I hope you and everyone else has been feeling well and taking care of their physical and mental health!

[lavenderspence]

Missing the happy hormone | S.R.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Content warning: emotional reader, period mention, fluff

Word Count: 1.8K

Summary: Apparently Spencer Reid could make anything better - even the emotional disaster of being on your period

A/N: First, huge thank you to the cutie that sent in this request, you literally caught me while on my period so this was born. Also, here’s to my inability to write short fics, this is your only warning that i can make and will make anything long, lol. Also, my titles suck omg. And shoutout to my crazy bestie for making me a Mamma Mia girly, she rocks.

But also, happy one month to this blog! When I carved out this little space for myself a month ago I wasn’t really sure how I’d feel being back here and writing again, but so far it’s been a treat. A huge thank you for all of your support and love and thank you to my mutuals and everyone that interacted with my blog. 💕 Here’s to many more months to come!

Request: spencer x fem!reader on her period/ovulating and shes in tears all the time?? Im ovulating and have been crying for hours and keep calling my mom lmaoo he’d been so lovely and sweet I know it I can feel it in my bones

masterlist

It was a slow day at the BAU. The most exciting thing in the 6 hours Spencer had spent at work was Rossi’s invitation to dinner the following weekend. 

Paperwork had piled high after their last 2 cases, so every team member was hunched over their desk, writing and revising reports. It was a never-ending cycle - finish a report, close the file, open a new one, and start all over again.

His eyes had started getting tired after four and a half hours, his hand had started cramping and he was down two pens so far, yet there was still a prominent pile on his desk.

He suspected Morgan and Emily might have pushed a file or two from theirs onto his load, seeing as he was getting done the fastest. Regardless, every few hours JJ was bringing even more to pile on top of everything that wasn’t finished, so buried in paperwork they stayed - no matter how fast he wrote or read, or how used to the load he was.

He was just thinking about getting up to prepare a fresh pot of coffee so he could function properly for a few more hours when his phone started ringing. He felt around the pockets of his suit jacket, where it sat draped on his chair, and then pulled it free. 

His display showed an incoming call, a picture of you as he hugged you, hands around your middle and face almost buried into your neck, a soft smile gracing both your faces. A scenery rich with reds, browns, and yellows stood behind you, the beauty of fall was nothing short of spectacular. 

The picture you’d taken last year when the team spent a weekend at Rossi’s cabin in the woods, surrounded by the beauty of landscapes and leaves, nature for miles. 

He accepted the call right away, a small smile on his face. 

“Hey sweetheart.” His voice was gentle, if a little raspy from misuse. He hadn’t talked much in the last few hours - just a distracted short answer here or a hum there. He was happy you were calling, though, welcoming the reprieve from the most recent report. 

It was silent for a few seconds, and he wondered absentmindedly if maybe you hadn’t called him on accident, and then there came a tiny little sniffle from your side. 

“Sweetheart?” He prompted, “Are you there? What’s going on?” Worry was starting to creep into the base of his spine, but he still remained calm and kept his voice gentle. 

“I’m here. Hi.” Another small sniffle, “All’s good. Just…I was just wondering how much longer you’d be gone.” Your voice was small,like you thought you might upset him by asking, and a little crackly, like you yourself were upset about something. 

His eyebrows furrowed, and he checked the time quickly - 3:57 pm. 

“Probably about two more hours, there’s a lot of paperwork we need to go through.” His eyes met Emily’s as she sent him a curious, questioning look. 

“Oh, okay.” The resignation was clear in your voice, “I’ll see you later then.” The call ended abruptly, and it took him a second to catch up.

He couldn’t help but feel like not everything was as good as you claimed it was. For one, you rarely called to ask when he’d be home - you knew his work could span into the late hours, or even stretch for days. You let him update you on any changes in his work schedule. 

In your interactions, your voice was usually upbeat and teasing - especially on the phone. Your kindness was always evident in your voice, as was your mood. You were a sunshine person, if he ever met one, that’s probably why you and Penelope formed such a close bond upon meeting. 

There was something that nagged him - a change in your mood he could pick up on just by your voice - too low, too small, and the cracks that he could now identify as he replayed your conversation in his head. You were keeping yourself from crying out, and yet there was nothing more apparent than the tears in your voice. And that made him worry. 

“Reid, are you okay?” Emily’s voice snapped him from the hard stare he’d been giving his phone in the last several minutes since the call ended. 

“I…I don’t know.” His eye twitched, and he cleared his throat before he tried and failed to articulate exactly what was happening - he himself had a hard time understanding. One thing he knew was that he needed to get home. “I..um, I need to go. Can you, please?” He asked, gusting at the remaining three files on his desk before he pulled his suit jacket on and grabbed his satchel. 

Morgan and Emily shared a mildly concerned look before they both nodded their heads, “Yeah, go. Text to let us know if everything is okay.” Morgan reminded him before he exited the bullpen with a fast step and tried to keep calm.

He was aware the situation wasn’t anything that he needed to be incredibly worried over - if something was really wrong, he knew you would have let him know. Yet, he couldn’t help the way his heart constricted by the sound of your voice, or the overwhelming desire to come home and gently hold you, see what could have caused this behavior. 

You were curled up on the couch, watching as Donna helped Sophie get ready for her wedding, the gentle melody of “Slipping through my fingers” filling the empty apartment. Your eyes were watering, to the point that everything was starting to get blurry. A shaky exhale left your lips.

Today has simply been a rollercoaster. Kissing Spencer goodbye this morning was the highlight of the day. What followed was nothing short of an emotional disaster. 

You’d teared up during breakfast, images of picking berries with Spencer flying through your mind. The desire to make it a reality was strong. 

Following that had come the overwhelming urge to bawl your eyes out, for no apparent reason whatsoever. Just cry and cry until you had it all emptied out and you could take a deep breath and continue with your day. So, cry you did, and then you’d finished with your chores for the day. 

Apparently letting it all out and emptying your tear supply hadn’t happened. Seeing as around 3:30 you’d started missing your boyfriend so much, the need to hear his voice had won out, so you’d called him. You felt the need to have him home to hold you because this month’s visit from mother flow was making you feel like a crybaby.

But then there was disappointment at the notion that you needed to wait close to 3 hours before that could happen. So you quickly ended the call before he could pick up on the tone of your voice, and then you shed a few tears. 

Now here you were, rewatching Mamma Mia because you really needed a pick me up, and once again, eyes shining as the tears started falling. At this point, it was a losing battle, so you let them fall, humming to the song with a broken voice. 

That’s exactly how Spencer found you, not a minute later. His keys were in his hand, the satchel on his shoulder, and he was just a little bit out of breath. 

The moment his eyes met you, they softened as he dropped everything and sat down next to you. His hand reached up and he cradled the side of your face, wiping your tears away. 

“Hey, sweetheart. What’s wrong?” He asked in a whisper.

“Look at Donna painting Sophie’s nails, it’s...” You hiccuped, another wave of tears washing over you. “And you’re home, why are you home?” Your question was met with a furrow in his brow, as his thumbs continued wiping underneath your eyes. 

“You called.” He answered simply. 

“But you said-” He stopped you before you could finish your sentence.

“I did, yes. But you sounded off and sad, so. Want to tell me what’s going on?” He prompted you gently as he pushed your hair back and pulled you into his lap after, feeling like you needed the physical contact. 

You weren’t ashamed to admit it, per se, but you were ashamed that your hormones had caused him to leave work and race home to be with you. 

“It’s my period,” you mumbled, hands wrapping around his neck as you hid your face in his chest, too tired to prevent your eyes from watering again. “It’s been going on all day. Randomly, I’d just get so emotional, and the tears would start. I was missing you so much too, and then hearing the song, bam, tears again. I’m so done with this Spence.” You sounded barely coherent, with your face pushed as close to him as possible. 

It all made sense now, you’d been cranky a few days ago, and then you’d told him last night your cramps were unbearable, so he knew you were on your period, but right now he felt like an idiot for not figuring it out himself. 

“It’s okay, everything is fine. The drop in estrogen and progesterone, following your ovulation triggered this. This in turn reduced the production of serotonin, your happy hormone. So, we just need to boost it a bit.” He whispered into your ear as you played with the hairs at the nape of his neck. 

“How?” You sighed into his chest, almost being able to pick up on the sound of his heartbeat.

He got deep in thought for a few seconds as you breathed in his scent, and a sense of calmness slowly overtook you now that he was home and holding you. One of his hands was running soothing circles on your back as the other held your hand, fingers interlocked. 

“How about we take a trip to the store and get you some snacks? We’ll pick up dinner on the way home and then I'll hold you some more and you'll pick a movie for us to watch.” He suggested, kissing the crown of your head once, twice, and many more times until you gave him an answer. 

“Yeah, yeah, I think that would help, but just having you here has done wonders.” You finally laid your head against his chest, looking up to meet his eyes. He smiled, and so did you. Having him here really had helped immensely, and when had it not? He was your other half, your rock, and even when your emotions ran rampant or you were feeling down, just his presence, his touch, and his understanding were enough to make it all okay. 

Later in the evening, Penelope sent you a photo of Sergio sleep-hugging a little plushy you’d gotten him, and the waterworks started all over again. Luckily, Spencer was there, wiping your tears and kissing your head, saying a thousand things without actually speaking a word.

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

Requests are open for both Spencer and Hotch if you want to send any!

[klipkillakai]

|pt 2|

humming the smooth melodies of jhené aiko’s music, you slowly walk down the aisles of the bookstore, picking up books and looking at the back reading the synopsis, this morning you woke up and decided you wanted to go to the mall..

usually you go with your bestie but she’s been in florida all week, so you decided to go by yourself, this was a little anxiety inducing but you went straight to your safe haven.. barnes and nobles.. where you can pick any escape you want

you decided you wanted to pick up some romance novels, it probably having to do with it being february and your new found crush but your gonna be delusional and pretend that’s not the case..

you think about him as you look through the books, you haven’t seen him at school all week and you feel worried? it’s odd because you wouldn’t have noticed before but now it’s different..

you haven’t attempted to text him out of fear, but you notice he hasn’t texted you either, it hurts a bit and deep down you can’t help but feel like it was too good to be true..

you shake the thoughts away and collect your books and head to the cashier..

connie silently follows the guards as they lead him out to intake, he’d been locked up the past few, some bullshit about a warrant.. he knew that was a lie.. he knew they needed to get him on something, but unfortunately for them he has one the best lawyers in the country..

he smiles when the guard roughly uncuffs him, muttering for him to get dressed.. the guards leave and immediately he shoves off the jumpsuit wrapped around his waist pulling on his cargos and tee he was last in, he opens the ziplock baggie with his phone in it, calling his employee, he tucks the phone between his ear and shoulder and laces up his shoes

“sir?”

“im out, send the car”

connie hangs up and shoves the phone in his pocket along with his keys and wallet and zips up his jacket, before pressing the button notifying he was done changing—

——————————————————————————

you hop off the bus, and start walking back to your house, you carry the few bags of things you bought and shiver at the bite of the cold

“oh nah” you whisper and start to walk a bit faster

a few blocks in you feel the urge to look behind you, you peep a hellcat going slow down the street but you don’t recognize it exactly, you think that’s odd so you keep walking silently keeping note, starting to feel paranoid you turn around again and it’s still following you.. not knowing what to do you keep walking faster until the car finally pulls up next to you and rolls down the window, you prepare to tell the whoever in the car off until you hear

“hey mama”

you stop dead in your tracks and turn to look at the man you’ve been thinking about this whole week

“connie?”

you walk closer to the car and he puts it in park and gets out, before leaning on the door, he smiles

“you missed me?”

wanting to say yes you shrug and say

“where you been? i haven’t seen you at school since last week”

he slowly slides his hands in his pockets and looks at you for a beat and says

“i was locked up, got pulled over on a warrant or sumn, but i got out quick because they had nothing to stand on”

you brows slightly furrow “jail? what kind of warrant did they say it was?”

connie slowly walks closer to you and, softly grabs the bags from your hand and nods towards his car..

“cmon, take a ride wit me real quick”

he goes around the other side of the car opening the door, before you slip inside, he places the bags on your lap and mutters a “seatbelt” and shuts the door quickly walking around to his side and looking around before slipping in the car, the car starts and plays loud drill music before he quickly turns it down and pulls off..

“you didn’t answer my question..” you say softly looking at him

his jaw ticks for a second and his thumb taps the wheel, “ion want you to worry about that aight?” he shoot’s a lazy look towards you..

“should i worry about it” he shakes his head no and you ask..

“is it gonna happen again?” he softly licks his lips and says “i’m gonna make sure it doesn’t”

you look in his eyes as he says that and you get the slightest flash of something sinister behind them, that erupts butterflies in your belly and you softly squeeze your thighs together

“okay” you whisper, and he looks at you again with a slight smile..

after 20 mins of driving you finally ask with a little laugh “where we going?” he pulls up to a parking garage entrance and pulls in before saying

“my crib” your heart skips a beat and, your feel yourself get a bit hot.. “oh” you whisper

“is that okay?” he asks with a teasing smile, pulling into a parking space, “yea i just didn’t expect that”

“don’t worry your safe, your always safe wit me”

you look up at him with a bright smile, and connie nearly wants to fall to his knees, he looks at the brightness in your eyes before it quickly lowers to your lips and he looks away, almost wanting to laugh at how smitten you’ve gotten him..

he opens your door, taking your hand and you walk away hearing the car lock, he leads you to an elevator, and he presses the fob to the button and presses the 10th floor..

you feel his thumb softly go back and forth on the back of your hand “you cold?” he says softly and you nod.. “i could tell when you were outside” he shrugs off his big carthartt jacket and drapes it over your shoulder.. the elevator dings and he pulls you into the hallways stopping at his apartment door, pulling out his keys, unlocking it and nodding you inside

you walk through the door looking around, it smells just like him, the fresh masculine smell, slightly twinged with weed, he kicks he shoes off and you do the same, pulling off your hot pink crocs and neatly placing them next to his shoes…

“so did you just get home today?”

“yea a few hours ago actually, i haven’t been home in a week, i fucking missed it” he pulls off his hoodie causing his shirt to lift under it and you catch a glimpse of his happy trail.. you want to scream because you find that so attractive but you look away fighting back a smile..

you walk further into the seemingly large apartment, looking around at the masculine decor, the black couches and large tv mounted on the wall, you slowly turn and notice a book shelf, you slowly walk towards it, hearing connie in the back opening a fridge.. you graze your fingers on the books about finance, stock investing… and your finger stops on a book about secret society’s.. you look back at connie before you keep scanning the books.. others filled law.. others about cars and guns…

“you like to read?” you ask connie

“that’s how i learn, knowledge is power” connie says as he stands behind you, slowly dragging his hand up your arm.. then slowly moving your braids to one side.. and dragging his lips up your neck inhaling your sent at the same time..

you let out a slow breath.. and you feel his large hands slowly press against your lower belly, and you feel heat slowly pool there..

“your so beautiful you know that?”

you softly smile.. “sometimes i don’t”

he softly pause before slowly turning your face towards his.. “i’m gonna ensure you do”

he looks in your eyes for a beat before letting your face go, “im gonna hop in the shower rq, then we’re gonna dip aight?”

you let a breath “mhm” you nod for reassurance and he smiles a bit before turning around and walking down the hall..

——————————————————————————

10 mins later you sitting on his couch tapping through stories.. you start to think about who connie is.. he got out of jail today and you still have yet to know what.. and.. and that phone call! the last time you were in the car together he told you the same thing “don’t worry about it” do you trust him enough to not worry about it? are you going to let curiosity kill the cat?

you hear the bathroom door open cutting your thoughts short, you look up at connie.. the towel wrapped around his waist, water droplets rolling down his abs.. gold chain dangling around his neck.. and his tattoos.. god you love his tattoos.. a snake winding around his arm.. a cross on the side of his neck and a large chest and back piece..

“i can feel you staring pretty girl”

you immediately look away feeling your body heat up from embarrassment.. he laughs a bit and shakes his head.. “it’s okay.. i stare too” you softly turn towards him and look in his eyes.. “i really like your tattoos”

“oh yeah?” “yeah” you whisper back shyly and he smiles at that, connie likes making you nervous.. he likes catching you stare and that little dazed look on your face..

“your gonna come wit me to pick sumn up, and we gon get food after or sumn aight?”

“you know.. you never ask.. you just tell” you say with a teasing smile..

“would you like me to ask? even if i knew the answer already”

“what makes you think i’ll say yes?”

“you haven’t said no yet..”

“maybe i will”

“well let me know when you decide to do that”

you roll your eyes and connie slightly smirks before walking into his room and changing clothes, he goes into his closet looking behind him before grabbing his piece and tucking it his pants, he covers it with his shirt and grabs a thick jacket and pulls on his timbs..

he sprays some of his cologne and slips on his rings and opens his nightstand and grabs his other phone slipping it in his pocket and leaving..

he walks out the room and sees you still patiently waiting on the couch, hearing your nails tap against the screen.. “cmon mama”

he watches your pretty head snap up, you quickly hop up, pulling up your pink sweatpants and rounding the couch walking towards him..

he grabs your hand and you walk out the door together, heading to the elevator and eventually ending up in the parking garage again, this time getting into a different car, he quickly pulls out, nodding to the security guard and pulling into the street..

he zooms pass other cars as he picks up his phone from the cup holder, calling someone..

he looks around before he turns, and starts to speak

“im pulling up, have it ready” soon after he pulls into a warehouse building, you hear his tires crackle against the the gravel and a man stands there holding a large black duffel bag, connie rolls down the window, dapping the man up before reaching down and opening his trunk, silently plopping the back the trunk and shutting it, without another word he begins to walk inside, connie pulls out the driveway pulling out into the street again..

you almost open your mouth to ask what’s in the bag but you choose not too, do you really want to know? do you need to know? it seems connie doesn’t think you do.. so you stay quiet..

connie softly looks over to you.. “whatchu want to eat?” you smile a bit thinking about it “mmm i dunno you pick” he shrugs and smiles “i don’t care about what i eat, i’ve been eating prison food for a week”

you think about it, and you smile getting an idea “let me cook for you” connie slightly pauses and looks over at you, his heart slightly soars and he says “forreal?” “mhm” you nod and connie looks at you with an amused expression on his face, like there’s an inside joke he’s having with himself..

“aight, bet” he quickly makes a u-turn zooming pass cars and soon after pulls into a whole foods.. he parks and nods for you to get out too, you walk hand in hand inside the store and you grab a basket quickly pulling on his hand, leading him to where you need to go..

you stand in the aisle looking at different types of beans as connie stands close behind you, softly rubbing your back “what are you making?”

“rice and beans with jerk chicken” he groans softly and whispers “sheesh” you smile and continue shopping, quickly grabbing all the ingredients and heading to self check out, connie helps scan and pays of course and you quickly put the bags in the car and head back to his place..

the tv is playing in the back as you cut up vegetables, the meat is already marinating in the fridge, and your just focusing on the rice and beans at this point, connie is standing next to you washing the rice..

connie loves this, cooking with someone, allat wifey shit.. that gets him bad, he hears you giggle at a joke from the show and he smiles, when you proposed the idea of cooking for him he almost fell in love with you on the spot, he likes that wifey shit because he knows he can match that energy by providing, he’s always wanted to be that.. a provider.. it’s just in his nature, he knows dudes who want a wife but act like bums when the opportunity arises, nah he’s gon take care of you back.. always.

he finishes cooking the rice and looks over to you “you need me to do something else?” you finish giggling at the joke and shake your head no “no thank you” you say sweetly.. and he nods before pressing a kiss to your cheek.. “i’m gonna be in my room aight?” “mhm” you nod and he walks down the hallway as you cook..

an hour later your rolling balls of cookie dough and placing them on the baking sheet in front of you, you hear the door open and connie’s comes out the room, he changed into grey sweats and a wife beater he smells the kitchen “damn it’s smells good in here”

you smile and grab the sheet, placing it in the oven and go to the sink to rinse your hands off “we can eat the food is done, i was just making some cookies”

he walks behind you, reaching up grabbing two plates and forks handing them to you, you go over to the pots on the stove and start making his plate..

“you eat alot? you ask and he walks up behind you softly rubbing your lower back “mhm” he hums and you start to put more rice and another piece of chicken and you hand him his plate before making yours..:

you end up on his couch, he puts on a movie and you start to eat.. “you wanna smoke?” he asks and you smile “you stay trynna get me high” he laughs and shakes his head before reaching on his coffee table, grabbing a box and starting to roll up, he sparks it and hits it before passing it to you, you pass it back and forth until your both faded and you start eating

connie takes his first bite and groans softly, pointing and nodding at the food “this is so fucking good mama” you smile knowing that it’s good and you take your fist bite “shiiit” you say and you both laugh high asf..

you talk and eat for the rest of the evening, you open up about yourselves, telling each other things about your insecurities, your outlook on life.. who you want to be as people, and that draws you closer, you both begin to understand that your just people that want love, and company and support.. and that connects with both of you, both of you falling deeper and deeper and not even realizing it..

you and connie cuddle, both wrapped around each other eating the warm cookies fresh out the oven, the high still hitting, you feel his hand softly rub small circles on your hips, and you feel butterflies erupt in your belly, and heat slowly trickling down..you softly adjust yourself, and connie notices looking down, he softly smiles and against his better judgement he slides his palm down, softly rubbing your lower belly, his pinkie lightly grazing under the waistband on your sweats and you softly bite your lip..

you reach back softly, and rub his hand on your belly, softly rubbing it, connie softly presses a kiss to your cheek, slowly moving down to your neck, nipping and sucking softly, your eyes lower and you shudder, you softly turn around, sitting up and connie follows,

you slowly climb on his lap, and his hands immediately finds your waist, you both hold eye contact only breaking it it look at each others lips,he leans in looking up at you for consent, you softly nod and he captures your lips in a kiss, you kiss him back the kiss is slow and sensual, as if your both making a map, slowly figuring each other out.. his tongue grazes your lower lip and you open your mouth , you tongues now dancing around each other, you slowly roll your hips into his his, and that sends a sharp shiver down your spine.. you almost gasp at it..

he hands slides up your chest and up to your neck, grabbing it and squeezing it, pulling you closer, the pace of the kiss becoming faster, more passionate..he softly pulls back softly biting your lip before kissing you again.. you wrap your arms around his neck, your nails grazing against the nape of his neck, causing him to shudder and his bulge under you twitching, this slightly intimidates you.. your a virgin and all of this is new to you.. your just going with the flow.. but damn does it feel good.. it feels better than any words you’ve ever read when reading your silly little romance novels.. even better than when you touch yourself late at night..

you slowly pull away, a string of saliva connecting you both, not wanting you to separate, his eyes are low and filled with lust.. he leans back and groans softly rubbing your ass “you gonna drive me crazy mama” your face heats and you smile “yeah?” you whisper sweetly while you softly rub his chest..

he watches you, and you lean in, laying your head on his chest, he softly rubs your back.. this combined with the weed and food, starts making you sleepy, your eyes begin to lower and connie notices..

“you can sleep baby, i’ll drop you off later” you sleepily nod and you feel connie pull a blanket over you and press a kiss to your forehead.. and you drift off to sleep, feeling safe and warm..

|a/n|

yalll! did you miss me?? hehehe i don’t think you guys understand the bull i just went through!!! tumblr dead deleted half my draft! i’m officially traumatized guys! i see why you guys write in word or like google docs or sumn! but i just wanted to say thank you for over 1000 notes on soft thug 1!! like ermmm i did NOT expect that thank you so much guys!! ily 🩷

[tag-list]

@ebonydumbslut

@burpzz

@rawr29184

[puzzled-pegasus]

Here's some silly little metaphors that I think the dragon tribes would use

SkyWings

“Don’t count your clutch before they hatch.” (Don't plan too much too soon)

“Gold is better than silver, but silver is better than nothing.” (If you can't do it perfectly, still try your best. Most dragons forget the second part.)

“‘Sorry’ can't suck the fire back in.” (The damage is done and now you're dead to me.)

“You been eating too much burnt meat or something?” (Are you nuts?)

“Stop all this smoke and use your fire.” (Stop rambling and get to the point already; or stop complaining and do something)

“Doesn't know his tail from his wings.” (Stupid or clumsy)

“You fly like a depressed pigeon.” (Slow flier)

“There's no fire in a rainstorm.” (Stop feeling sorry for yourself and get to work.)

“Nighttime is for the NightWings.” (What are you doing up? Go to sleep.)

SandWings

“She’s all rattle, and no strike.” (Like all bark no bite)

“A diamond in a pile of quartz.” (Like a needle in a haystack)

“You’re watering the cactus and ignoring the sapling.” (You’re focusing on the wrong thing; barking up the wrong tree)

“Everyone thinks the camel looks silly until the dry season comes.” (Don't listen to them, they don't know how unique and strong you are)

MudWings

“Crocodile tears.” (Fake crying in order to gain sympathy)

“You can only catch a trout if your mouth is open.” (Be open to new experiences)

“If the tree gives away too much, it ends up as a stump.” (Don't let people take advantage of your generosity)

SeaWings

“Happy as a clam in high water.” (Very happy)

“The flying fish feels like a fool when it sees an osprey.” (Don't compare yourself to others, run your own race.)

“Plenty of fish in the sea.” (Plenty more opportunities to come.)

“You’ve got ink in your eyes.” (You're blind to something important)

“Lobsters only die when they don't leave their shell.” (Keep yourself busy with new experiences and you'll life a long life)

NightWings

“Sleep is for the dead.” (Why waste your time sleeping when you could be productive)

“SeaWings know their fish and SandWings know their cactuses, but we NightWings know everything else.”(NightWing supremacy propaganda)

“Being nice to a deer never got one in my mouth.” (Other dragons don't matter, only your goals.)

“A prophecy always comes true.” (I told you so but more cryptic)

"You're counting the stars." (You're doing something tedious towards an unachievable goal)

RainWings

“Gray’s her favorite color.” (She's a huge bummer)

“A lemon is yellow on the outside, doesn't mean they're not sour.” (Referring to someone who is two faced or fake)

“I love honey, but I’d rather not get stung by the bees.” (I could do this, but it requires effort so I don't wanna)

“Nobody likes a rotten banana.” (Nobody likes a bummer/downer)

“Don't tie your tail in a knot” (don't get all upset)

“I have all my berries in a basket” (I have everything sorted out)

“You couldn't sneak up on a pineapple” (insult to one's camouflage skills, popular among children)

IceWings

“The seal who asks why the orca is chasing him is the first to get eaten.” (A favorite of parents telling their kids to shut up)

“Not the sharpest icicle on the roof” (kinda stupid or slow)

“Clear as polished ice” (i understand or see it very well)

“You're looking a little pink in the face” (you look sickly. IceWings can turn pink from eating too much krill; a symptom of malnutrition. This line can be applied to any illness.)

“Blue blood kills, red blood spills.” (Patriotic propaganda implying that IceWings win every fight

“The SkyWings toss their blue eyed hatchlings because they're worried they'll be as strong as an IceWing.” (More propaganda)

HiveWings

“Pretty is for the SilkWings.” (Vanity is stupid and impractical)

“If it buzzes like a bug and bites like a bug, it's a bug.” (Don't ignore the obvious)

“Clearsight works in mysterious ways.” (I don't know the answer to your question, now go away)

SilkWings

“It's not always good to know how the honey gets made.” (Don't stick your snout where it doesn't belong)

“She's got a couple of threads loose.” (Calling someone a little crazy, threads refers to weaving)

“The bee minds its flowers and the spider minds her silk, it's when they mix that bad things happen.” (Mind ya business)

LeafWings

“Flytraps only trap because the soil doesn't feed them.” (Dragons don't get angry out of nowhere)

“Looking like a leaf only hides you in the forest.” (Time and place)

“If a branch doesn't bend, it breaks.” (Be flexible)

“Even the corpse flower attracts the flies.” (Even someone who seems ugly to one dragon they can seem irresistible to another)

[applepiewinchesters]

Doomed (Logan Howlett x fem!Reader)

Summary: The arrival of two new mutants at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters brings some excitement to an otherwise normal day, particularly for you, Scott Summers’ sister. When you meet Logan and his cocky attitude, you soon realize you may be crushing on the new guy.

Word Count: 2,988

Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters was never one to turn away a lost mutant, even if they weren’t what was considered a “youngster”.

There were excited whispers all over the school about the two mutants who had been brought to the mansion late last night. One of them, Rogue, was already becoming acclimated, attending classes. You’d had the pleasure of meeting her when she joined your English class.

The other, a man, was still unconscious in Jean’s lab, having taken a nasty beating shortly before being rescued. You had tried to sneak down there during the students’ lunch break but your brother, Scott, had stopped you.

“We don’t know if this guy is dangerous,” Scott had sighed, dragging you away from the lower level entrance.

You pulled your arm from his grasp, “Scott, I’m a grown woman, and we’re the same age, I can take care of myself.”

Scott rolled his eyes which were hidden behind his sunglasses, “I don’t care I don’t want you getting hurt!”.

“Oh but Jean can be by herself?,” you argued,” She’d let me be down there with her!”.

“I’m not Jean, so get over it,” Scott said but turning and heading down the long hallway.

You’d flipped him off while his back was turned before stalking back to your classroom and waiting for the break to be over. All the while your mind on the mysterious man downstairs. You hadn’t even got to catch a glimpse of him when he and Rogue had arrived. He was whisked away for aid and you were tasked with making Rogue comfortable.

Charles felt you would be able to make the younger girl feel safe, she’d seemed a bit shaken up but it was nothing a hot drink couldn’t fix. You answered any questions she had while sitting at the kitchen table. Charles ended up being right in the end, he always was.

It was a bit later in the afternoon when you saw Scott run past your classroom door. You were grading a couple essays and your eyebrows knit together as you quickly stood, heading to the doorway.

You poked your head out the doorway, calling to your brother at the end of the hall, “What happened!?.”

“The other mutant, he woke up and attacked Jean, he’s somewhere in the mansion! Stay there!” Scott called back.

Nodding you walked back into the room, wondering if you should just stay there or risk running into the man.

It seemed fate decided for you when a man with dark hair dressed in black pants and what you recognized as gray zip up hoodie from the school slipped inside your classroom. You couldn’t help but notice the chest hair peeking out from the top of the jacket. He was barefoot and his hazel eyes darted around the room, quickly landing on you.

You couldn’t help but back up slightly at the intensity of his gaze, he looked confused and totally pissed at the same time.

Deciding to press your luck a little further you lifted your hands in mock surrender, “Slow your roll bucko, there’s kids here, don’t get crazy,” you reasoned.

“Where am I?” the man asked, ignoring your attempt at being somewhat humorous, probably partly deserved.

“Westchester, New York,” came a calm voice from behind the man, making him turn.

Charles was there, looking expectantly at the intruder. “More specially, a school, my school, I see you’ve met one of my brilliant teachers,” Charles explained.

You cracked a smile at the compliment, putting your hands down, “Flattery will get you nowhere, you know that.”

“I can always try,” Charles commented.

“What the fuck is going on?” the man asked, his voice was rough, almost a growl as he interrupted your conversation.

“Logan, please, calm down, come with me,” Charles spoke. Without another word he turned in his wheelchair, leaving the room and heading in the direction of his office.

The man, Logan, as Charles had called him, turned to you, almost for what seemed like clarification.

You only shrugged, motioning for him to leave the room as well. When he eventually did you followed, excited to finally be in on the big secret that’s been sleeping all day.

Arriving in Charles’ office you plopped down into one of the chairs in front of the large desk after shutting the wooden doors behind the three of you.

“Would you like some food?” Charles asked Logan, who stood close to the door, eyeing the room warily.

“Why am I here?” Logan asked, answering with a question of his own.

“You were attacked. My people brought you here for medical attention,” Charles explained.

“I don’t need medical attention,” Logan replied.

“Of course not,” you found yourself saying, looking up at Logan.

He glared slightly at you before smirking, “What’s your name sweetheart?” he asked, his chest puffed out a little, hands behind his back, he was cocky to say the least.

“Oh, wouldn’t you like to know?” you teased, but stood from your seat regardless. “I’m Y/N, Y/N Summers.”

You held out your hand to shake and he took it, his hand was large and warm, his grip a little tight. “Logan,” he told you, “but you’re welcome to call me anything you like.”

“How about dickhead?”.

Introductions were interrupted by Scott throwing open the office doors, almost immediately taking a protective stance by your side.

“Logan this is Scott Summers, also called Cyclops,” Charles spoke, you watched as your brother gave Logan a rather firm handshake.

“Any relation?” Logan asked you, motioning to Scott.

“Twins, unfortunately,” you answered, throwing an arm around your brother to let him know were, of course, just kidding.

Logan looked almost shocked, “Wouldn’t have guessed.”

“And why is that?” Scott challenged, attempting to take a step forward but you gripped the back of his jacket.

“Well she’s…,” Logan trailed off, glancing over to you and giving you a quick wink, “and you’re, well, the sunglasses don’t do you much justice bub let’s just say that,” Logan smirked.

“Watch your f-,” Scott started but was thankfully interrupted by Ororo striding in.

You caught yourself smiling at Logan’s remark, and felt your face heat up slightly when you noticed Logan was staring at you.

Charles ignored the previous interaction, moving on with introductions,“This is Ororo Munroe, also called Storm, Ororo this is Logan.”

The two shook hands without any issue, Scott stayed planted by your side, always the overprotective sibling you never wanted.

“Where’s the girl?” Logan asked once he and Ororo shook hands.

“She’s here, she’s fine,” you spoke up, flashing Logan a reassuring smile, his gaze lingered on you a second more than it should have.

“We brought you here to keep you safe from Magneto,” Charles explained.

“What’s a magneto?” Logan asked.

“A very powerful mutant, who believes a war is brewing,” Charles answered, “I’ve been following his activities for quite some time. The man who attacked you is an associate of his called Sabertooth.”

“Sabertooth?” Logan asked, practically rolling his eyes, “She’s Storm. He’s Cyclops. What do they call you? Wheels?”.

His question was directed at Charles and you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you, quickly clamping a hand over your mouth.

Charles let it slide as Logan made his way towards the door, “This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” he said.

Scott moved to block Logan’s way.

“You wanna get out of my way?” Logan asked, stepping closer to Scott who didn’t budge.

“Logan, it’s been almost fifteen years, hasn’t it?” Charles interrupted, making Logan turn away from your brother. “Living from day to day, moving from place to place, with no memory of who or what you are.”

“Shut up!” Logan growled, fingers curling into fists.

“Give me a chance,” Charles tried again, “I may be able to help you find some answers.”

Without another word Charles wheeled out of the room.

“Where’s he going?” Logan asked, looking to you.

You only smiled and motioned for him to follow, and after a moment he did, reluctantly.

That left you, Ororo, and Scott alone in the office. Scott stepped towards you and away from the door.

“What was that?” he seethed.

“What was what?” you replied, “I can’t be nice to a man who’s obviously had a pretty shit roll of the dice recently?”.

“Not that one,” Scott argued.

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest, “Oh like we were perfect when we first got here, remember when you shot that huge hole in the roof?”.

“He’s not a kid, Y/N! He attacked Jean when he woke up, I already said I don’t want anything happening to you!” Scott told you.

Ororo was quick to leave the room during your little argument, she hated yours and Scott’s sibling spats, and today was not a day she wanted to be in the middle of one.

“Charles trusts him so I do too,” you replied.

Scott groaned, throwing his hands up, “Fine, whatever.”

You sighed, placing a hand on Scott’s shoulder, “I know you care, okay? And I love that you do but I’ll be fine, got it?”.

Scott only nodded, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and leading you from the office. The two of you met Jean in the hallway, who looked fine despite her surprise attack.

“Met our new mutant?” she asked you, taking Scott’s hand.

You smiled and nodded, “He’s…funny.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Scott mumbled. Jean placed a kiss on his cheek, making him perk up a bit.

“Your sister can take care of herself Scott,” Jean teased, pulling him away from you.

You heard Scott begin to argue as Jean directed him down the hall, she threw a quick wink over her shoulder at you before they disappeared around the corner. Jean always had your back and you loved her for it.

Heading the opposite way of your brother and Jean, you made your way towards the gardens where most of the kids were playing.

There was a basketball court, lots of places to run as well as sit and just enjoy the day. It really was beautiful. You’d arrived there some while ago and even since you’ve been at the school it’s expanded. Charles wasted no expense making sure everyone felt at home.

When you made it outside you saw Charles and Logan talking, when the older man noticed you he waved you over. You obliged, crossing the grass, making sure to be wary of a few kids playing tag.

“Need me?” you asked when you reached the two men.

“Would you please show Logan to his room?” Charles asked you.

You nodded, “Of course! Come on.”

Logan followed you without a fight, maybe his talk with Charles helped. Once inside you climbed the stairs to the second floor which held student’s and teacher’s dorms.

Walking past a few doors you stopped in front of the one you knew to be empty, grabbing the door knob and pushing it open.

“This is where you’ll be staying, there is a bathroom so you won’t need to go looking for one,” you spoke, entering the room, Logan following behind you.

“Umm, food is served downstairs but you’re always welcome to eat up here, if there’s any food you like specifically we can buy it,” you found yourself rambling a bit, “I’m sensing you’re a steak on the raw side kind of guy.”

This made Logan chuckle, “What makes you say that?”.

You shrugged, “Your…vibe? And those dog tags around your neck say Wolverine.”

Logan looked down, seeming to notice the dog tags then, he quickly put them inside the jacket.

“So do you have some kind of…dog mutation?” you asked, almost cringing at your words.

This didn’t seem to faze him though, he only laughed again, he seemed less tense than before, even stepping a bit closer to you.

“No, I’m not a dog, I…,” Logan trailed off, and you jumped a bit when three sharp, long blades extended from his left fist.

“I get it now,” you said when you found your voice again, watching the claws retreat back into Logan’s knuckles. “Jean is probably going to make you come back down to the lab, figure out exactly why you have…well, that.”

Logan nodded, “So, do you have a silly code name too or is it just Y/N?”. He quirked up an eyebrow at you, making you smile a bit.

“Roulette,” you answered.

“Oh?” Logan asked, seeming to be intrigued.

“I can switch people’s mutations at will, I could make Scott have your claws and you have his laser eyes, but it’s temporary, so far the longest I’ve been able to make it last is a few hours and that’s been with years of training,” you explained, “It’s tricky, but, ya know, I’m stuck with it.”

“That’s…that’s really amazing,” Logan told you truthfully, making you blush.

“It’s nothing really, sometimes it does more harm than good,” you said, brushing off the compliment.

“Don’t we all?” Logan asked you, making you meet his gaze again.

He was closer to you now, your chests almost touching. You were interrupted by a quick knock on the door frame.

Scott.

“Jean wants him downstairs again,” Scott said, leaning against the door, no doubt glaring at Logan behind his glasses. “I’ll take you.”

Logan rolled his eyes, “Whatever you say bub.”

You glared at your brother before turning back to Logan, “I’ll see you later, and I’m two doors down, if you ever need anything.”

Giving Logan another smile you turned, leaving the room, bumping your shoulder against Scott’s, mumbling a “Be nice,” to him before heading to your own room.

Logan turned to Scott then, cocking his head, “You gonna tell me to stay away from your sister?”.

Scott stood up straight, folding his hands behind his back, “I shouldn’t have to.”

“I think she can make her own decisions,” Logan argued, stalking towards the other man. “Seems like a smart girl.”

“She is,” Scott replied, turning away from Logan to begin their decent down to the lower levels, “that’s why I trust that she’ll see you for what you really are soon enough.”

“Oh and what’s that?” Logan asked, beginning to follow Scott down the hall.

“Another asshole that will break her heart in a week,” Scott said, turning around to face Logan.

“Then you must not be that smart,” Logan smirked, “maybe take some pointers from your sister.”

A loud crack out in the hall made you stick your head out of your bedroom, and you saw Scott and Logan. Scott was cradling his fist, a string of curses leaving his mouth. Logan turned to look at you, shrugging and sending you a wink.

You rolled your eyes. Men.

“Come on you two,” you sighed, heading towards them. “Jean can wrap up your hand while he gets scanned.”

“Scanned?” Logan asked as you steered your still cursing twin towards the stairs.

“It’s an MRI really, nothing to worry about,” you reassured. Logan seemed a bit hesitant but nodded and followed.

Scott kept quiet the whole way after his cursing ended, his pride more hurt than his hand. When you reached the lab you pushed your brother towards his girlfriend.

“White Knight over here needs a bandage,” you joked, and Logan snorted a bit.

Jean sighed and nodded, “Take off your shirt and lay over there,” she directed Logan towards the large machine in the corner while Scott sat on another table.

You grabbed a first aid kit and handed it to Jean while Logan unzipped his jacket, tossing it onto a work station along with his dog tags.

He was, to put it lightly, ripped. You could already tell even with the jacket on, but seeing him with it off was enough to make you stare.

When he eventually caught you, you looked away, letting him climb up on the table while you directed your attention back to Scott and Jean.

Jean was wrapping his hand in gauze, “A sprain,” she mouthed to you over Scott’s shoulder and you nodding, smiling.

Turning back to Logan you walked to the edge of the table, he looked up at you and smirked.

“See something you like?” he asked, making you laugh and shake your head.

“I think that’s enough with the flirting for today lover boy,” you said, patting his arm. “I’ve gotta go help with dinner.”

Logan seemed a bit disappointed but nodded as you turned away from him.

“See you both later,” you told Jean and Scott as you made your way towards the door.

Jean nodded and Scott kept his head down, confirming his ego was more bruised than anything.

When you were out of sight of the three of them you took a minute to lean against the cold metal walls of the lower level, taking a deep breath.

Logan was going to be the death of you, you could already see that, but whether in a good or bad way you couldn’t quite tell yet.

After a second you pushed off the wall and headed back upstairs, joining Ororo and a few older students in the kitchen to help prepare dinner.

You stood beside Ororo, cutting vegetables, your mind wandering to Logan, him lying on that table…

Ororo nudged you just in time to keep you from slicing your finger open.

“Sorry,” you said, face heating up.

“Distracted?” she asked, giving you a knowing look.

“No!” you answered too quickly.

Ororo patted your shoulder as she moved to the other side of you to grab a knife, “Whatever you say kid.”

The rest of the night was spent trying to convince everyone, including yourself, that you were not crushing on the new guy.

But when you were headed to bed that night and Logan stopped you in the hall outside his room to thank you for the help and wish you goodnight, you knew you were doomed.

[gay-dorito-dust]

I'm curious, how did wade and logan meet isekai gremlin reader? Did reader just fall from the sky and landed beside the two unharmed? We know wade breaks the fourth evrytime because his sentient and logan had seen worse sp if reader just straight up tells the two that they are from another universe the two would just😐👍okay. They woulb be ubothered by it

Wade and Logan first met you when they were having shawarma. It was a nice day, nothing could possibly go wrong until…

‘Ow fuck!’ You groaned as you got up from a seemingly never ending fall through the void, only to realised that you didn’t hurt as badly as you thought you did when you went to run your arm. ‘Don’t know why I said ow fuck when that didn’t actually hurt being with.’ You then murmur to yourself as you looked up to see the portal you fell from close assumably forever.

‘Did god kick you out of heaven little angel? Did you do something naughty? Blasphemous even?’ Wade asked, swallowing his last bit of shawarma, wiping himself down before he let Dogpool run your feet as you smiled down at the cutes dog you’ve ever seen. Some would say she’s ugly, the most ugliest dog they’ve ever met, but to you she’s perfect with her lopsided tongue and scruffy appearance.

‘He fucking wishes but no, I’m not an angel nor did I come from heaven.’ You told Wade as you picked up Dogpool, unbothered by the excessive licking to the face, you’d like to call it her showing you her unconditional love and affection.

‘Then where did you come from?’ Logan asked, completely unfazed by this and the dog licking your face excessively.

You shrug, not caring whether you sounded nuts for saying it. ‘Another dimension.’ You proclaimed.

Wade and Logan looked at each other before looking at you again.

‘Ah! Another overused and abused Isekai trope fanfic, like that’s surprising to anyone reading this.’ Wade then said to no one in particular.

‘The fuck is that supposed to mean scrotum face?’ You replied, holding Dogpool closer in your arms when you noticed that Wade was planing on taking her off your hands, no one was going to take this cute doggy from your hands, you’ve only met this cutie and you’d kill everyone before killing yourself if anything happened to her.

‘Look bub, Wade over here talks out of his ass, so it’s best not to take anything he says seriously.’ Logan answered for you as he got up from his seat groaning. He’s been alive for far too long to act surprised at anything at this point. A pig could sprout wings or suddenly talk and Logan wouldn’t find this out of the ordinary, that or he just was too tired and perpetually annoyed at everything to feel anything outside of that.

‘Now that our meet cute is over and done with, papa is going to need his little Mary Poppins back now.’ Wade reached out to grab Dogpool but you took a step back, still holding her close to your chest.

‘No.’ You told him. ‘She’s my Mary Poppins now.’

Wade gasps ‘are we entering our enemies to friends to lovers, 300k words, slow burn phase?’

You looked to Logan who only shrugs his shoulders. ‘I’ve got not a fucking clue what he just said just now.’ You then looked back to Wade and then little Dogpool, who was still licking your face, before deciding to bolt down the street. ‘YOU’ll never take me alive!’

You could hear Wade and Logan simultaneously cursing as they proceeded to follow after you, and at one point you could’ve sworn you heard Wade yell, ‘MY BABY! PAPA AND PAPA ARE COMING SWEETIE DONT WORRY!’ Before hearing Logan hit him in the back of the head saying, ‘damn it Wade! I ain’t no damn papa!’

You couldn’t help but laugh as you, with Dogpool in your arms, continued to run as far as you could with no real destination in mind, maybe this new dimension wouldn’t be so bad if this is how you got to live everyday. You couldn’t mind it one bit.

[violet-eng]

You teach Neuvillette what sex between humans is like. | Sub!Neuvillette x dom!fem!reader | NSFW🔞

someone asked for sub!Neuvillette so here I am.

Summary: You have a sort of crush on Neuvillette, and you've discovered that he's actually the Hydro Dragon. So one casual evening at his house, you slowly tempt him, and end up showing him that his horny human physiology isn't just used during mating season like dragons do.

Warnings: +18, reader!dom! Fingering, riding/cowgirl, piv, nipple sucking, unprotected sex.

MDNI

Average of 3k words ig.

🎨: hamusutaaa_ on Instagram

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────••─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Fontaine's Iudex had kept his true identity hidden with arduous caution for long enough... so the revelation of his true form had come as quite a shock to you. Neuvillette was the true face of the Hydro Dragon you had heard so much about as a child ... Now it all made sense, the pieces found their place and fit together perfectly. You had never met such a man before, with a cold gaze and unwavering mettle, fierce convictions and indelible fidelity.

That sense of justice that so tormented the Iudex, that detached perception he possessed about humans -as he called them-, his perspicacity and stubbornness, the truthfulness of his actions... all those attitudes and virtues were indeed incapable of coexisting in an entirely human body.

"It must be exhausting for you to have to coexist with creatures you don't know in their entirety" you say looking out the window of his house.

"On the contrary, I find it very enriching. I did not know such complex beings, or at least not with such closeness" he answers from his armchair, while crossing his arms.

"To that curiosity I owe then the constant storm of questions you ask me when you go to my library?" you ask walking towards him, with a slow step and the gaze fixed on his eyes.

While the revelation of Iudex Neuvillette's true form had shocked you, it had not stripped you of your feelings for him, after all, in your eyes he still looked like a human.

Neuvillette swallows saliva, failing to hide his growing anxiety beneath his stoic facade. He drops his gaze on your figure, which is advancing towards him, he runs his gaze over your face, your shoulders, the curve of your waist and hips... and your legs... he imagines them spread apart for him... he would know how to treat you if given the opportunity to...?

"It seems that Chief Justice is undergoing an inner trial" you whisper resting your hands on your hips, tilting them to the side and smiling.

"This human form is very different from my original form y/n" says the Iudex, voice subtly losing the firmness that always accompanies it, "It comes with sensations I am unaware of... and reactions I cannot control."

Having mentioned that, you notice the growing bulge in Neuvillette's pants, along with his flushed cheeks. Is he humiliated?

You can't help but laugh at the image of Fontaine's unyielding Iudex in front of you, erect and ashamed of his new physiology. Neuvillette rests his elbow on the chair and covers his cheeks with a gentle wave of his hand.

"I guess that doesn't happen to dragons often" you say, shortening the distance between the two of you, "you have nothing to be ashamed of, dear Iudex" you add leaning down, taking his hand and kissing the back of it.

He looks away pressing his lips together, turning only his gaze to observe your cleavage, where he can appreciate the shape of your breasts. He immediately regrets it, and berates himself for behaving like a pervert.

"I have to admit," you continue, moving closer to his ear, warm breath brushing against his earlobe, "that I've always wanted to cross certain boundaries of decency when I see you in my library.

"Y/n~," he lets out, stifling a groan, resting his hand against his length, just short of destroying his pants.

"Allow me to show you, Monsieur Neuvillette, that we humans do not only have sex when we are in heat... that we have sex when we want it and with whom we want it," you drop your hand to his, pressing against his throbbing member.

Neuvillette does not know how, in what way you have acted and why he is in his own bed, naked, completely exposed to you, who admire his figure from your position.

You are standing in front of his bed, observing the Iudex's gifted physiology, his elbows resting on the silk sheets, his hair on his scarred shoulders, his member raised, almost suggesting that you are coming to him.

You undress slowly, without taking your eyes off him, first your blouse, your stockings, then your pants and your shoes, remaining in your underwear. You watch Neuvillette, who can't control his breathing and seems to drip a little when he sees the thin fabric covering your breasts and your sex.

He wants you, fuck, he wants you as much as you want him....

"Since when do you have these feelings for me, Monsieur?" you ask as you remove the clasp of your bra.

"I... ah~" the Iudex can't find the words.

"Don't rush..." you reassure him as you undo your panties, which are sliding down your legs to the floor, you push them aside with your foot.

And when you are completely naked in front of him, you notice how he clasps his hands and puckered his lips, he's as instinctive as you thought.

"My dear Neuvillette..." you whisper as you crawl over and sit astride his form, "so pitiful... poor thing, you have nothing to be ashamed of," you say as you stroke his cheek.

You brush aside the strands of silver hair and tuck them behind his ears, admiring the soft fall of his hair, like a waterfall cascading down a mountain.

With your thumb, you caress his cheek, feeling the warmth of his pink, sweaty, smooth skin. His lips, they are thick and wet, begging you to take them and devour them without hesitation. And his eyes... fuck... you've never seen that pleading look in the Iudex, so fervent and devoted, so eager for you to use him at your whim.

How strange to see him in this state, when he is the one who is often in the position of power in court....

"Y/n..." he whispers, his voice cracking and his eyes watering.

"No Monsieur, don't cry... at least not yet, we don't want it to rain," you say, laughing.

You take Neuvillette's hands, much larger than yours, and place them on your thighs, letting him caress the warm skin under his palms. The Iudex lets out a choked moan, arching his back at the shock as his nipples harden.

You guide his hands over your waist and to the base of your breasts, causing him to squeeze the soft flesh and let out a distinct moan. His grip is precise, and the heat of his fingers makes a flame grow in your center.

"May I?" he asks, wetting his lips with his tongue as he stares at your breasts. You nod at his request, surprised at how quickly he catches one of your nipples in his mouth.

He sucks on your nipple like a hungry infant and bites your skin while making guttural and very embarrassing sounds if anyone else could hear. His hands anchor behind your back, shaping your waist under his nails, which dig gently into your skin in ecstasy.

You throw your head back as you guide his head to your other nipple, which also seeks the attention of his desperate tongue.

"Fuck, Iudex," you moan, clutching at his hair, the skill of his mouth was something you did not expect at all, the way his tongue ran along the tip of your nipple and traveled to its base, leaving soft nibbles on the underside of your breast.

Growing ecstasy makes you guide one of his hands to your center, his soft digits brushing the skin of your lower abdomen, the crease between your thighs and your womanhood.

You slide one of his digits between your folds, parting the wet, glistening vestibule. Neuvillette allows himself to feel the elixir flowing from your pussy, bathing his fingers and yours, the sound of the goo flooding his ears, his lobe reddening at the musical he encourages with the rubbing of his fingers against your center.

He is inexperienced, you know, so you help him find your clit, throbbing anxiously for contact, thirsty to be rubbed without propriety.

"Right there, Monsieur~" you whimper, throwing your head back. The pressure of his fingertips on your nub of nerves makes you roll your eyes and bite your lip, the sensation rising in your belly and your pussy aching to feel more of him.

Neuvillette's fingers are clumsy at first, clouded by the sweet song of your muffled moans, and eventually he loses himself in his own pleasure. He regains his composure and becomes quite apprehensive, sliding his fingers from side to side, in circles, at a steady pace, applying light pressure to your clit.

"Am I doing it right?" he whispers, his face pressed to your chest, the heat of his breath hitting your breasts, coated with his saliva.

"You are a... good apprentice, Monsieur~" you hold back the cry caught in your throat, the fruit of his good skill.

You move your hips slowly, back and forth, increasing the contact of his skin against yours, at the same time he accelerates the movement of his fingers, the fluid of your pussy drowning his digits that are about to bring you to your climax.

"Like that, just like that~" you almost shout, clinging to his back, your hips suddenly bucking over his hand, rather vulgarly, like a dog rubbing.

The heat grows in your belly and between your legs, flooding all your femininity, sending electric waves through your legs, fluttering unashamedly around the Iudex's hips.

"Ah! Neuvillette!" you scream as you feel the flame burst out, your nails digging into his shoulders, marking his pale skin, your core contracting and your substance leaving your insides.

Fuck... Did he make you cum just by rubbing your clit?

"It can't be," you whisper. It's the first time something like this has ever happened to you, and you sense confusion on Neuvillette's face.

"Did I do something wrong?" he asks, frightened and ready to apologize.

"You have done nothing wrong, my dear Iudex," you say, caressing his cheek, brushing his lower lip with your thumb, circling the softness of that lovely fleshy feature of his that begs for a kiss.

You join your lips to his, it's a wet, passionate kiss, and between each nibble he moans for air. His shy tongue can't resist any longer and intertwines with yours, an erotic dance that reveals the animal side of the oh so subtle Judge.

"You've been a good boy, Neuvillette," you whisper against his lips, "let me show you how good boys like you should be rewarded," you say, pushing his shoulders so that his back slams against the sheets, feeling him almost swallowed by the silk of the sheets.

You lift Neuvillette's arms above his head, trying to grab his wrists with only one hand.

You tilt your head at the image, his muscles tense, sweat running down them, his shoulders defined, with the marks of your nails, and his hands, fingers glistening from the orgasm he just tore from you.

You look down at his length and...what?...you'd swear he wasn't this big a few minutes ago.

"It won't fit," you say to yourself...you've been with big guys before, but this was definitely beyond you. Maybe it's a characteristic of dragons...

"Please...it has to fit," whispers Neuvillette, whose heightened senses have allowed him to hear you, his voice, an almost muffled whimper, choked by his own ecstasy that has crossed his boundaries, completely taking over his human side and showing only his instinctive side.

"I'm going to ride you, Neuvillette, like you'll never be ridden again in your life," you interject abruptly, the words leaving your lips in a frenzy of anguish whipped by desire, the thought of having his thick cock inside you was eating away at your mind.

Your hand is not enough to cradle the base of his member, the fingers remaining spread even as you raise and lower your hand up and down its length. You align his throbbing manhood with your entrance, your pussy contracting against the nothingness in anticipation of what awaits you, your juices rewetting your center.

His cock slides in slowly, parting you completely, with inordinate amplitude. Your walls contract at the colossal invasion, and a moan falls from your lips, almost like a sob.

"So~" Neuvillette moans, his chest rising and falling in desperation, the sensation of his cock being devoured by your hungry pussy driving him wild. "So tight."

This provokes nothing more in you but your lust takes over completely, ignoring the pain, you let yourself fall all over Neuvillette's hips, his cock penetrating your depths, hitting that spot on your cervix that feels oh so fucking good.

You continue to squeeze him and he can only let out a grunt of pleasure, feeling that little pussy all to himself, gripping his length completely, you had been brave to take that risk.

Fuck. What a good time the Iudex was having.

"You're beautiful," he whispered, eyes closed and lips parted, lost in the pleasure you were provoking in him, the way you were using him to your advantage, he had never been in a position like this before, he was always the one....

"Fuck, y/n!" his thoughts were shot down by the circular movement of your hips, the friction of his member against your walls, the oil bathing you both, the sweat falling on your breasts, you are a goddess to him and you ride him like one.

The Judge was vocal, fucking vocal, the jerky movements of your hips, the way you jump on his member, tearing loud moans from his lips, hoarse howls, deep, raspy moans. Your name, overflowing from his bruised throat, makes you move with greater speed, resting your hands on his pecs, nails marking his skin again, making him yours and yours alone.

"Tell me you like the way I ride you," you command, your movements relentless, merciless.

"I~" he babbles, "I like the way you ride me y/n~" he flatters.

Neuvillette becomes a storm of praise as you bend further over him, giving him as much access to your loins as possible. He clings to the sheets, hiding his face in his shoulder.

"Say you're mine," you whisper, your hand around his throat, forcing him to look into your eyes.

"But..." he hesitates. The Hydro dragon cannot belong to anyone, especially a human, it disturbs the free and wild nature of its kind... that means shame and...

"Why do you stop moving?" he asks, almost like a small child, terribly worried.

"I won't let you cum until you tell me..." you say flatly, almost coldly, your gaze hard, almost unrecognizable.

"Please," Neuvillette pleads, grabbing your hips and trying to move them in a pathetic attempt at self-pleasure. "Y/n!," he begs fervently.

Neuvillette is not humiliated by the situation as he thought, damn it... this attitude of yours does nothing but turn him on beyond measure, drowning his insides in flames of desire, of desire to belong to you, to ignore his nature and abandon everything just for you, for your pussy that takes him so well.

"I belong to you, completely, for eternity. My being does not deserve a lover as fervent as you, I refuse to disappoint you in the future, to disappoint or deny you. My fidelity is totally pervaded by you, by your wishes and commands. My dearest y/n, you are my lover, the only one on this earth who can have control over me," he pauses, waiting for you to respond in some way to his plea.

Hours have passed and Neuvillette continues to cum in your insides. His eyes are rolled back, completely empty, tearful, he has come out of himself, your movements have brought him to paradise.

Outside, Fontaine is inundated by torrential rain, the inhabitants unaware that the rain is not due to the season, but to the fact that their respectable judge is getting the fuck of his life.

It's almost inhuman what you've endured on his cock, but the way his seed overflows inside you has proven to be addictive. He is addictive.

"Neuvillette~" you moan, resting your hands on his knees, his tip abusing your G-spot, your pussy inflamed from the abuse of the last few hours.

"I think I'm going to... Ah!~" your last moan is almost a cry of desperation, your I don't know how many orgasms of the night have overtaken you, and this time it is indeed your last.

You let yourself fall onto your lover, who wraps you in a warm, trembling, restless embrace, stroking your hair and your back. You hear the raindrops on the roof of the house, and you lean on your hands to look into Neuvillette's eyes.

You gently wipe away his tears, kissing his cheeks and the remnants of the sobs that the pleasure you gave him caused him.

"Why didn't you do this before?" the judge asks.

"I didn't have the courage," you answer, falling back to rest on his chest, exhausted as he is.

Your heart beats slowly, your muscles succumb to the abuse and your eyes close, lulled by the soft fall of the rain.

"We should do it again tomorrow," the Iudex says.

"Judge's orders?" you ask teasing.

"Tomorrow I'll show you how the hydrodragon fucks that little pussy of yours, " he decrees, his voice firm, the one he uses to deliver the verdict during trials, "you won't be able to walk for days".

[kingtomura]

Ashes to ashes

Summary: Even in the cold aftermath of the war, Tenko rests knowing he's not alone cw: tomura shigaraki x female reader, fix it fic, fluff, drabble, how its actually going to end tbh wc: 742

Everything is bright. 

It’s the first thing he could think of as he blinks his eyes open. The sluggish movements paired with the rhythmic beeping of a machine next to him made it all feel more jarring. 

Once the blurring of his vision cleared he had a better idea of his situation. 

He’s in the hospital. 

There is a window, a machine monitoring his vitals and

You. 

Your head is down as you sat by the side of his bed, the slow breathing of your form clueing him in on your current sleeping status. 

How long have you been here? At his side as he lie in a hospital bed for god knows how long? 

His heart — feeling new, feeling warm aches in ways that have nothing to do with the soreness of his other muscles. 

It makes him reach out to you, his hands are bandaged, but he knows decay no longer rests within him. He knows the quirk was destroyed along with his hatred, yet he still maintains a lifted finger as he pets the top of your resting head. 

Somehow you were so comfortable sleeping at an awkward angle — leaning over onto his bed as you sat next to him in your chair. 

It’s cute. 

You’re cute. 

He feels a smile pull at his features, it grows even bigger as you stir, waking to the disturbance. 

Your eyes are slow as they open and he can only feel himself relax as you look at him again. 

He thought he’d never see you again. 

“Tenko.” Your voice is soft, heavy with sleep as you speak and the words waver with the tears filling your eyes. “Thank god you’re awake.”

Yes, Tenko, no longer Tomura Shigaraki. It feels like a dream, but that part of him died with the end of the war. Only the embers of his true being remaining to be born again from the ashes. 

Your hand catches his and there is no fear in your movements. You are not afraid of him — you were never afraid of him. 

You’ve always loved him throughout it all. 

“How long have you been here?” He drags himself to ask, voice hoarse from lack of use and Tenko can see the way your shoulders shake as you struggle to answer — as you struggle to fight the tears. 

“It doesn’t matter.” Is your only response as you rise from your chair, knocking it back from the force of your movements as you race to wrap your arms around his neck in a hug. 

It’s tight and it presses on the bandages all over his body but he can’t bring himself to care. He’s just content with you being the first thing he sees as he came to. 

He doesn’t acknowledge your shaking sobs, knowing you would get on to him about calling you a crybaby. No, he allows you this moment, pulling you in closer and burying his nose into the crook of your neck. 

“I was so scared, Tenko,” you start, words breaking free from the confines of your mind, “I thought you were gone for good.”

He rubs soothing motions onto your back, pulling you in tighter. “I thought I was, too.”

The words only make you cry harder, the tears make his heart ache along with the pain throughout his body now. 

“I love you, I love you so much,” you murmur, and he knows. He’s always known. “Please don’t ever leave me again.”

Tenko pulls you back, forehead now resting against yours and — god, he knows you would hate to hear him say it, but he can’t help it. He thinks you’re cute in all forms, even when crying. 

“I,” he pauses and looks at you, really looks at you — and seeing his entire world in your eyes only brings the sting of unfamiliar tears. “I love you, too. I won’t leave your side again.”

He brings you in for a kiss, a gentle press of his lips against yours and you take all that you can, eyes closing and head tilting. 

Tenko pulls away and it’s brief only to mutter a firm, “I promise.”

Then he’s back, kissing you like his life depended on it. 

Even so close to you, he knows the warm tears trailing down his face were his own. The burn of them is unmistakable. Tenko can only bring himself to smile into the kiss, feeling anew. 

He can’t remember the last time he cried. 

[thatfrailsoul]

– Nourishing your soul, treasuring your bonds

tarot pick a pile reading ( → 1, 2, 3 )

("Sleeping Beauty in the Wood", Maxfield Parrish)

It is already challenging enough to find within ourselves the courage to be who we want, who we truly are... Enough to assume that once done that - there is nothing, no one, else to worry about... And yet here you are. Pressured by this doubt that you shouldn't have in the first place. The one that choosing your own self - your goal, desires, your needs - might be not right for you, or even worse... not aligned with the path of your loved ones.

So... are you doing the right thing by choosing yourself? Will the ones you cherish understand and help you with this journey? Will your paths still remain aligned, side by side? Can you really do this for yourself, without being forced to say to them goodby?

Slow down for a moment. Breathe. Listen to your heart, to its rhythm. Allow it to speak to you. And choose the image that seems so familiar, calling so strongly your heart. Remembering that, whatever the message might be, you are free to listen to it or to let go. Without the need to make it fit. Because your true answer will always find you, the moment you will be really ready and will have the need.

_

A little message to the beautiful soul that requested this reading: Your questions truly moved me. I felt them deep down, as I too asked myself the same things so many times... So I wanted to do my best by looking closely at each question on your mind. It will be a slightly long reading... But I hope that it will give you the clarity that you are trying to find.

_

– Pile One,

three of swords, six of cups, the hermit

When we are growing, feeling the real change in ourselves, in the parts of us that for so long we didn't take care of and forgot... It is inevitable to feel more deeply, to see things that we never noticed before. In the world around us. In our life. In the people by our side. It is inevitable to, suddenly, feel resistance, perhaps judgment from some and even concern from others... Exactly in those things and actions that are so connected to us feeling better, stronger, more confident about what we deserve and who we are...

And it's confusing, you know. First comes the hurt and frustration, of doing all this work but not being seen, congratulated, appreciated for the new aura radiating from us and that makes us so proud. Almost like they don't like and don't want the better version of us... Then comes in the doubt and fear that it is the truth. That what you know for sure is the best thing for you... It's something that is so inconvenient for them. That perhaps, unconsciously, you once again became fond of people that were just so good at wearing a mask. Hiding underneath their true them, that is so different from who you want by your side and who you want to become.

And all of these doubts and convictions are so overwhelming for your mind. The only place where you have the courage to think about it, to consider, to try to find a solution... Because just speaking up and asking them about it out loud... feels so risky, so dangerous. Something that will be the end of a bond that perhaps is completely fine, and that you are complicating on your own in your mind.

But the thing is... Although we can indeed sometimes misunderstand one intention for another, through their actions or their words... There are only so many times that you can wrongly read the room or their tone while they are speaking their mind. Even if you convince yourself that sometimes you are a little too defensive or feeling a little "too much"... you are not naive. You are not completely new to this world. You already had these doubts, these uneasy feelings, these intuitions or fears about those by your side. It's not the first time that you are being supported on your decisions or journeys, and in the same way it's not the first time that you discover that someone is not in fact your "ride or die".

And this exact fact that it is not the first time, of fearing to need to let go of someone, being so affectionate but at the same time aware that you are for some reason not aligned, makes it all so incredibly hard... that you wander if perhaps making a step back and leaving the things the way they were, might be better than creating so many changes and chaos in your life.

But you are doing the right thing, you really and truly do. You didn't go so far, found this strength and courage, to doubt this journey now. Now that you are already halfway through it. So close to the finishing line. You didn't go through all of this for yourself, to ask then if everything will be fine, if they will in the end understand, accept the new you and stay... When what you truly want and are afraid to know is if you indeed need to let go of them as you are feeling now. If you need to leave behind those that judge so much who you are becoming, already hurting a version of you that is still so new, even if it will hurt so much your heart.

You already know all of this deep down, that it might indeed be the necessary thing to do. And you are also aware of the fact that you don't really want to do it, to choose between you and them, losing one or another, not being able to maintain both. You remember how difficult it is, feeling, being alone. And it only complicates everything. A decision that you are not able to make because both options see you suffering, because of others or of the void left in the place where they used to be.

So... Let me rephrase it a little for you: do you really want to need to justify your decisions or who you are, constantly defending yourself from those that should support and appreciate you and your life? Are you really ready for a constant battle with those by your side?

Because, are you doing the right thing by choosing yourself or not, is not even a question that should cross your mind. You are on the right path. You are doing the right thing. You are doing just fine. You are actually making the most important steps in manifesting on your own that life that you want to experience and enjoy. Starting from you. And through you - with those around you.

And this moment of resistance, this moment of you seeing so much difference between you and others in your life, it's not a way of the Universe to tell you that you are making the wrong decision, becoming too different and less relevant or appealing to those that you want with you. But it's rather a way to make you understand that not everyone can or needs to stay here for a lifetime. Not everyone can be satisfied and completely aligned with what you have in mind. And if there is a right way to choose who to have by your side... well it's for sure by sharing your feellings and thoughts, your desires and intentions, openly. Seeing who feels excited for you, who is proud of you and understands... Or who is feeling hurt, only because for once you are prioritizing your own self and what is the best for your life.

We indeed are, at some extent, the people that we have by our side. They influence us in how they treat us, their opinions, their convictions in which we start to believe too. They form you, consciously or not, through the ways they support you or judge you, limiting your decisions or your steps.

So don't hide in your mind for the sake of others. Don't try to analyse or understand all on your own. Looking for a solution to make everyone happy and satisfied. Think only about yourself now, exactly like this journey requires. Follow your own plan and path. And allow others to be themselves, like you are the true you now. Even if it means that your paths will go different ways. Because no matter how sad or difficult, it is still fine. To be different and to live different lives.

And if you would like to receive more clarity and guidance about your situation (through a personal or free reading) - you can find out more about it here!♡

_

– Pile Two,

the four of cups, the eight of coins, the ten of cups

Look at you - you are just blooming. With all the courage and strength that you've found to finally and truly take care of yourself. To nourish your soul, make it smile and feel free and alive. You got through so much, through so many new and uncomfortable steps. You faced and made peace with so many parts of you that were consuming you, filling you with anger, fear and despair...

You did it. You truly did. But you managed to do so by hiding yourself. Creating that safe space away from everyone. From their opinions, "advices" regarding your life and how you should make it through. From all the people that talked so much, but so rarely listened to you. Becoming for yourself, on your own, the closest and dearest person by your side. The one that you can truly trust your heart with, the one that can so gently calm your mind. You connected to yourself so deeply, finding so much within yourself... that you don't really feel the need to have someone else. Especially those that remained their old self, not changing even a bit in this time that you spent by yourself.

And now that you "came back", felt strong and confident enough to meet them once again... The difference between you, the moments of silence or of the conflicts, were just too loud. And where before you felt uncomfortable, you just started feeling completely out of place now. Seeing only strangers in a life that is supposedly full of people, so many of them by your side.

But there is a thing about you... About how you don't really accept the idea of giving up, of considering something, someone, a lost cause. You didn't do it for yourself, demonstrating how much a person can change, grow and start to shine again. And you don't want to do it for them, for those that... You really do want to see one day understanding you, the way you see and feel this world, perhaps finally appreciating you, cherishing you the same way you learned to do it with your own self and them too.

And you can really do it. You can really see this change in them one day, even if now it seems so impossible to find a way to speak to them more deeply, enough to touch their soul and give them a new goal, a new hope. It will happen. It is already happening now. Because of you.

With your courage, or despair, in finding your true self, in taking care of yourself, you unconsciously created an example. You demonstrated silently that there is no need to suffer and be pressured by a version of you that just doesn't fit you so well anymore. You showed that, although something so new and perhaps complicated at first to do - it is so worth it. To open up. To your own self and to others. To this life, the things that it always teaches us, but that we sometimes are not so ready to learn and make ours.

You created something so beautiful, by simply choosing yourself no matter what. Like a little seed that you hid in their subconscious mind, it started to grow, manifesting itself in their actions and decisions. That for once started to be for themselves, for their good, for their safety and wellbeing. Unlocking a new version of them, that sees so much more now in their life and their bonds. Cherishing every moment more.

It might not be something that you can see already now, not when it is something so little, that even they are only now starting to notice and appreciate more... And not everyone will bloom and grow... But those that will, they will surprise you so profoundly, they will surprise themselves. In seeing how much your paths evolved and changed, aligning themselves even though you both started to feel like it is time to let each other go.

You will rediscover each other, get to know again so many people that you were convinced to already know, finding out how actually similar, closer your hearts are. But... Just give it time. Be patient, the same way you were with yourself and the journey that you were on all this time. They are growing too, they are changing, and it is something that goes so differently for every person, that requires a different rhythm and pace from perhaps the ones that were comfortable and right for your soul.

Don't worry about it, everything will be fine. Continue to focus on yourself, on protecting your new boundaries and expressing your new ideas and passions. Gently, sweetly, exactly like the way you are. Radiating your beautiful light, and showing others a way to find their own right path.

And if you would like to receive more clarity and guidance about your situation (through a personal or free reading) - you can find out more about it here!♡

_

– Pile Three,

the knight of cups, the king of swords and the six of coins

When we start to strive for more, to have this deep need for a change, for a better life and us... It is sometimes almost impossible to not be overwhelmed with all that motivation and energy. With that desire to do everything at once, making progress as fast as possible and being finally able to enjoy this better life.

It is so difficult to not get caught up in all of this... That sometimes this incredible glow around your soul that grows so beautifully - just starts to blind your own eyes and mind. Making you see - where at first there was so much enthusiasm, motivation, exciting new steps - just so many more sacrifices and things to do. Just for a chance to live well and feel good.

And it just drags you back down. In that discouragement and tiredness, in that doubt of really being ready to start this journey. Of wanting it truly at all. And while you fall back in this spiral, in this paralysis of not knowing what is best or worse, if to need to work for a new life enduring again all those challenges and battles... Or to continue this one even though it just doesn't speak anymore to your soul... In all of this your mind is just working too much. Day after day, doubt after doubt, making you forget a little but important detail: you don't need to do it all alone.

Yes it was you idea, yes it is indeed your story, your life that you are doing all of this for... But a journey is not always so limited to only one soul. It is not always meant to be faced on your own. But you assumed it, too caught up in these emotions that a start of a new journey filled your heart. You isolated yourself, hid yourself from this life that doesn't suit you anymore, and from the people around you that just didn't felt aligned. You hid yourself, and started to create everything from scratch on your own. Facing so many new things and questions that you never considered before. Refusing to ask for help, to have opinions of others, because you knew for sure that the same way they never understood they won't do it now too... You convinced yourself of this. Taking away from you perhaps one of the most powerful and beautiful details of a journey: the strength and courage that gives you the not being alone.

It is true that, no matter how much you love those by your side, they are still so different in the way they see and feel this world, in how they want to experience this life... But different is not always negative. It is not necessarily source of judgment, lack of understanding and appreciation, lack of support... Sometimes, exactly that "different" is what can help you find new solutions, answers, new ways of overcoming an obstacle on the road you are trying to walk. Sometimes it is exactly that support and needed hand that can help you navigate your emotions and doubts.

They are different. But this doesn't mean that they don't love you or don't want to see you bloom as the most beautiful flower of this world. They are here for you, and they show it in the only way, from the only perspective that they know... But they can also do it differently, if only you let them learn, allow them to understand fully what is it that you are looking for.

They have so many other versions of perceptions and opinions different from yours. But this is where their strength is. This is where the strength that they can give you is. So many new ways of facing things, of advices, of experiences, of more delicate or more straightforward approaches. So much help that they can give you on your journey, if only you allow them to.

Don't hide yourself, don't assume that they will not understand. Because there is nothing that they want more - to help you be your authentic and most confident self. You grew up, you changed, your mind learned so well to be open to others and their ways. And they can do it too. If you allow them to learn from you. To stay by your side as you make your first steps, to see you, to feel you. And to protect and guide you, helping you to don't doubt, to don't be afraid, and to believe in yourself.

And if you would like to receive more clarity and guidance about your situation (through a personal or free reading) - you can find out more about it here!♡

_

_

[meazalykov]

bayern drama

sydney lohmann x platonic!jamal musiala x bayern!reader

summary: your girlfriend doesn't like what she sees

warnings: jealousy

you take a deep breath, glancing at the crisp, beige, newly released bayern munich kits you're about to wear for the first time. 

it’s a mix of excitement and nerves, your fingers running over the fabric on your body as you sit in the lounge area. the room is filled with energy, players milling around, chatting, waiting for their turn in front of the cameras. 

the men's and women’s teams are mixing today, and for some reason, that makes the anticipation more intense.

“you look fascinated, do you like the new kits?” jamal asks, sinking into the seat next to you, grinning like the goofy friend he always is. 

you’ve known jamal for a while, both on and off the field. not just because you share a team connection, but because of kyla, your cousin—his girlfriend. 

the two of them had been together for over a year now, and it was still a little surreal to think about how small the world was. kyla and jamal? the shy football star and your wildly outgoing cousin? who would’ve thought?

“yeah,” you nod, offering a small smile. “just don’t let me outshine you in front of the camera, musiala.”

he laughs. “we’ll see about that.”

you lean back, watching as some of the others are called for their shoots. sydney is across the room, deep in conversation with some of her teammates, her blonde hair shining under the lights. 

she glances your way, a quick smile passing between the two of you before she turns back to talking. 

you've been with sydney for about eight months now, and despite being teammates, it’s never felt like too much—if anything, it feels right. 

the shared routines, the chemistry on and off the pitch, the little moments between training sessions. you two just fit.

still, today feels different. maybe it’s the mingling of the men's and women's teams, the unfamiliar setup. it’s not every day you get thrown into a photoshoot with jamal musiala, of all people. 

it should be fun. light. nothing serious.

"so," you start, leaning your elbows on your knees as you look at jamal, "how’s kyla been?"

he smiles at the mention of your cousin. "she's good. busy with school and all, but you know her—she never slows down."

"yeah, she really doesn’t," you say, shaking his head with a fond smile. 

"she keeps me on my toes." he laughs. 

"as she should," you tease, nudging him lightly with your elbow. "you're lucky to have her."

jamal grins, clearly enjoying the banter. "trust me, i know."

before you can say anything else, sydney’s voice cuts through the conversation. 

“hey, what are you two talking about?” her tone is casual, but there’s an edge to it that you can’t quite place.

you glance up at her, and she’s standing there with a hand on her hip, eyes flicking between you and jamal. she walks over and plops herself down next to you, closer than necessary, her hand sliding onto your thigh. 

it’s subtle, but you notice. the way she’s suddenly more... present.

“just talking about kyla, my cousin on my mom’s side of the family” you say, giving sydney a reassuring smile. 

“jamal’s still somehow managing to keep up with her.”

jamal chuckles and jokes, “barely. she’s a handful.”

sydney hums, but doesn’t say much else. her fingers drum against your leg, her body leaning into yours just a little more than usual. 

you glance at her out of the corner of your eye, sensing something off. it’s not like her to be this... clingy. possessive, even.

jamal seems to notice it too because he raises an eyebrow, shooting you a questioning look. 

you shake your head slightly, hoping he’ll get the hint to just ignore it.

"so, are you two doing anything special this weekend?" you ask, trying to shift the focus away from whatever weird vibe sydney’s giving off.

jamal opens his mouth to answer, but sydney cuts in, her voice a little too sweet. "oh, i'm sure they’ll be busy. right, jamal?" her arm tightens around your waist as she speaks, her gaze locking on jamal like she’s challenging him.

jamal’s eyes widen slightly, and he lets out a nervous laugh. "uh, yeah, we’ve got a few things planned." he glances at you again, clearly picking up on the tension. 

"you know how it is. always something going on."

you bite your lip, trying to keep the situation from getting too awkward. but it’s hard not to notice the way sydney’s holding onto you, the way her body language is practically screaming insecurity. 

it hits you then—she’s jealous. of jamal. of your conversation with him. it would be almost funny if it wasn’t so out of character for her.

"babe," you say softly, leaning closer to her, "what's going on?"

"nothing," she says quickly, but you can tell by the way her hand tightens on your thigh that it’s anything but nothing.

you exchange a glance with jamal, who’s trying his best to stifle a laugh, his eyes sparkling with amusement. he gets it now too. the fact that you both know what’s happening seems to make it even funnier.

"you're jealous, aren’t you?" you ask, teasing her lightly, but there’s a gentleness to your tone.

sydney scoffs, but her cheeks turn pink. "of course not. why would i be jealous?"

"oh, i don’t know," you say, grinning now. "maybe because you think jamal and i are getting too chummy?"

"please," sydney rolls her eyes, but there’s a playful smile tugging at her lips. "i wasn’t worried about you."

you raise an eyebrow. "oh?"

she smirks. "i was worried about him."

jamal lets out a bark of laughter at that, throwing his head back. "me? seriously?"

"you’re too pretty for your own good, musiala," sydney says with a shrug, but the playful glint in her eyes tells you she’s not actually serious.

you laugh, shaking your head as you wrap an arm around sydney, pulling her closer. 

"you don’t have to worry about either of us, babe. jamal’s with kyla, and you know i don’t swing his way. or any guy’s way, for that matter."

sydney pouts a little, but you can tell she’s already starting to relax. "i know. i just... didn’t like how cozy you two looked."

"we’re just friends," you say softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "and besides, you’re the only one i’ve got eyes for."

sydney smiles at that, leaning into your embrace. "good. because you’re mine."

jamal shakes his head, still laughing as he stands up. "i’m gonna leave you two lovebirds alone and talk to michael before i get caught in the middle of something."

"smart move," you call after him, watching as he heads off to join olise by the snack stand. 

you turn back to sydney, your fingers gently brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "you okay?"

she nods, but there’s a sheepish look on her face. "i’m sorry. i don’t know what got into me."

"it’s okay," you say softly, squeezing her hand. "but you don’t have to worry. ever. i’m all yours."

sydney looks up at you, her eyes softening as she leans in for a kiss. "i know. and i’m sorry for being weird. it’s just... i love you, and sometimes i get scared that someone else will see what i see and try to take you away."

you smile against her lips, pulling her closer. 

"no one’s taking me away from you, syd. i love you too much."

sydney smiles, her hand resting on your cheek as she kisses you again, deeper this time. 

"good. because i plan on keeping you forever."

you laugh, your heart swelling with affection for the woman in your arms. 

"forever sounds pretty good to me."

masterlist

[helaelaemond]

To Watch - Aemond x reader

Pairing:  Aemond x reader

Word count: 2.3k

Summary: Aemond reads an old story from the Reach to you in bed. You like to see how long he can read aloud before he stutters.

Content warning(s): none

INCLUDES: handjob (m receiving)

Taglist: @babyblue711 / @myfandomprompts / @sylasthegrim / @arcielee

“And so it was on that first fateful morning that Ser Emmon saw the sweet Queen Delena, and knew he loved her.” 

You smile as Aemond reads aloud to you, no louder than a whisper. “I missed you today.” 

He turns the page of the book in his hand. “Hmm?” 

“You didn’t join us for dinner. It was just Aegon and I.” 

“Well, that’s not so bad.” He runs slow circles over your waist with his thumb where you lie in his bed, propped up by soft feather pillows.

“That’s why you should have been there.” On the new page of the book in his hand, there is a gilded painting of a knight in silver armour, and the queen in her crown of flowers. “Just us.” 

“I just needed some time alone after today.” 

You inch closer to him and turn slightly to press your chest against him. He is so close that you can see every eyelash, every ghost of the freckles that used to splash across his nose. “I saw you in the yard for hours.” 

“Were you watching me?” The corners of his mouth quirk up slightly. 

“No,” you lie. 

He glances at you, close enough to kiss, and you grin in delight at him. “What did you think?” 

“Nothing. I wasn’t watching.” 

Aemond leans across the small distance between you and tilts his head. Your noses touch, and the slightest movement closer would let your lips meet. “Do you know what I think?” 

While his one eye closes, yours remain open. He is blurry this close, but in the dim light of the room, his sapphire sparkles. “Sometimes.”

“Do you know what I am thinking at this very moment?” 

It’s difficult to bite back laughter. He makes you so very happy. “No.” 

“I think you like to watch.” 

Too thick is the air between you for you to stand anymore, and you try to kiss him, your mouth aching for the touch of his lips. He pulls back slightly, denying you.

“Aemond,” you protest in a soft whisper. 

“Well?” he asks, as if he doesn’t already know the answer. “Do you?” 

Smiling widely, you rest your head on his shoulder and touch the page in front of them. “Keep reading.” 

“Alright.” He sighs in contentment, and starts at the top of the page. “But it was to her husband the King Gwayne that he had sworn his sword and shield, and his life. No wife would he take, no children would he father, yet to the queen he felt his heart go.” 

You listen as Aemond reads from the book. It is just old stories from a time when legend and history mingled into one, a book as well suited to children as it is maesters. But still; between the pages some truth can be found, and flesh and blood and bone can be seen through the myths. And it all sounds so pretty when Aemond reads it. 

Being so close to him does things to you. As if you are doing nothing more than getting more comfortable, you wriggle under the covers and slip your knee between his thighs. He wears only a soft green tunic to bed, one that rides up easily. His voice catches on the words when you shift against his leg,your hand on his chest. “Keep going,” you whisper. 

He clears his throat and does as you ask.

He’s right, of course. You do like to watch. A long time ago he had shown you how he liked to be touched and you had learned quickly. Now, there is little left that you do not know, but you like to see all the same. Not tonight, though. After the display he put on in the yard for much of the afternoon, you want nothing more than to touch, to feel. 

As he weaves the story of knights and queens and longing loves about their silver heads, your touches dip lower. At first, it is just his stomach you run your palm over. Linen is still between your skin, but his muscles tense at the pressure, and you can feel the dips and ridges along them. Each time his voice falters, you stop. It is encouragement enough, then, to keep going. 

“And it was in the gardens of Ser Emmon’s humble country house that Queen Delena gave herself to him. He gave her a rose as a symbol of their love, and pressed it into her hand. The thorns cut her skin, but he kissed the wounds and at his touch, they healed. Then he took her face into his grasp and kissed her cheeks and her lips, and they swore their love to one another.” 

You run the heel of your palm lower on his stomach and press it against the hard pubic bone. He stutters and his eye closes. He grunts your name.

“Yes?” you ask innocently. Your fingers point down, and just a slight twitch of them allows you to stroke the hair there, to trace the base of his cock. It rests against his thigh, half hard. 

“Do you want to hear the rest of the story?” 

“Yes. Why do you ask?” 

Aemond laughs breathlessly. “Then you’d better stop whilst I can still read.” 

Your fingers form a ‘v’ over the base of his cock and crook slightly to slide along the sides of his balls. “If you stop reading, then I’ll have to stop doing this.” You turn your hand palm-up and glide his cock through your spread fingers. 

A half-laugh comes through his nose. “Alright.” He shifts slightly and the pages rustle on his lap. “It was in that very garden that the queen gave herself entirely to the knight, and in her, he put his bastard child who would one day be called Flowers.” 

You settle comfortably against him again and your forehead rests against his long neck. His thighs spread wider in a silent beg for more, and you smile slightly. There is heat rising in his throat and cheeks and you can feel it against your face. 

How pretty Aemond’s body is. You love how long and lean he is, how easily bruises blossom under his fair skin, how you can see the lines of his veins and tendons in his arms and hands. Such pretty hands. With your forehead against him, you can feel the soft rumble of his voice in your very bones. It makes you shiver, makes your nipples hard. 

When he stumbles over a word, it is satisfying knowing that you made that happen. It’s your gentle hold around his cock that makes him lose focus, your skin against his that makes his stomach tense. Only for a moment do you let him go and although he whines softly through his words, he makes no other protest. You holds your hand up to his mouth and he bites his lip, before licking your palm, your fingers. 

“Thank you,” you murmur, before pushing your hand back under the covers and wrapping it around him again. 

“But the king’s closest companions had already informed him of their suspicions, and Ser Emmon was summoned to the Great Table.” 

A fire burns between your legs. He is hot and heavy in your hand, hard and wide and in his cock, you can feel his heartbeat pulse. His thighs twitch, and you run your foot up and down his calf soothingly. It does not soothe you, though. Every touch makes you want to make him whimper more. Even his voice intoxicates you. 

The pace you set is steady and reliable, and you only pause your ministrations now and again to caress your thumb over his tip. The silver drops that gather there make it smoother to stroke him as you glide it over his length. At your waist, his fingers begin to dig in. 

“And the k-” He bites his lip and sighs hard through his nose. You press your fingers around the base of his cock and move to carefully squeeze his balls. His eye closes, but there is strength in him yet, and after a brief pause, he continues. “And the king at last drew his sword in challenge against his knight, his friend, and demanded honour.” 

You look at the painting on the page in front of them but you don’t really see. It’s impossible to see anything in front of you when Aemond is all around you, his body heaving beneath you, his leg pressing between yours, his hair tickling your face. Utterly consuming is the need to please him, to delight him. You stroke his cock faster now. How lovely he is. How pretty he sounds. Oh, I do so adore him. Every stutter and every stumble is for you. 

“They crossed swords over the Table and- fuck.” 

He turns his head and kisses your forehead, hard. You shiver, and under the blankets you tighten your grip. “They crossed swords over the Table and they fucked?” you ask breathlessly. 

Aemond’s quiet laugh turns into a moan. “No, not that. They, ah- gods!” He forces his eye open but his brow is furrowed in concentration. “And they fought. The king fought for his honour, and the knight f-” he stumbles, breath catching in his throat. “Fou- ah, yes!” 

You bring your knee up between his legs and press it up to where his legs meet. Aemond grinds his hips up and down, his heavy balls sliding against your soft thigh. He turns his head slightly to press his cheek against your forehead. It’s like he can’t get close enough to you, even when you’re lazy like this. 

“They fought?” you encourage.

“Mmph. Yes. They fought. Fuck.” 

“Keep going, and so shall I.” 

“Yes,” he moans. You know he has more self control than this. But there is nothing that makes your soul soar like knowing he can set it aside with you. “The knight fought for his love.” The words are punctuated with heavy gasps that grow more frequent as his breath grows shorter. “The king forbade… he forbade his other knights from in…” He bites his lip at a particularly delicious twist of your wrist. “From interfering. After a long fight, the king disarmed Ser Emmon and his b… his blade… ah, yes. Just like that. His blade was knocked from his hands.” 

“Are you nearly finished?” you ask, making sure your lips are so close to his ear that he will not hear anything else. 

His brow creases again but this time it is in a laugh. “Am I? Or the story?” 

“You,” you breathe, and the word is stretched out. You dart out your tongue to catch along the shell of his ear and when he moans, strained and high, you feel like a queen yourself. 

“So close,” he assures you. 

“Keep going.” 

Nodding frantically, he musters his strength to return to the words. “Ser Emmon fell in front of the king, who… mmph, sweetling. Who demanded that he tell him where the treasonous queen was.” 

She can feel deep within her that he is close. There is something in the way that his whole body tenses, how little beads of sweat gather along his hairline, the twist of bliss in his face, that is so familiar, so exciting. You sit up slightly to get a better view of his face. Yes, that’s better. It’s much easier now to see the little line along his throat that appears when he is tense. There is a thick vein protruding from his forehead now, and it makes you smile. You so love to watch. 

Your hand moves faster, and it is slick with spend and sweat and spit. 

“The knight refused, for he loved the queen more d-dearly than his… his own life. Oh, fuck!” 

His eye closes and it leaves only the sapphire in its socket to wink at you. Fire rages through you at the sight, excitement and adrenaline and love mingled into a potent poison. Let it ruin you, if it means you can have him. 

“Yes, love, don’t stop, I’m-!” 

His face is flecked with starlight when pleasure rips through him. His hands ball into fists and his hips lift off the bed, and he cries out, guttural and low, his voice cracking. You watch, enchanted, and stroke him through it, catching his seed across your hand. Some will have gone on the blanket. Such a waste. 

“Kiss me,” he pleads quietly as he sinks back in the pillows. Below the blanket, his hand finds yours and your fingers weave together and it feels like the centre of the world. 

You smile and keep your eyes open as you kiss him. It is tender now, your lips soft together. Whilst there is still a fire between your legs, it has been tempered for a time. Simply by seeing his release, some part of you has been satisfied. 

Aemond breaks the kiss after a long moment. His eye opens slowly, and he is greeted by your smile. “Thank you.” 

“You don’t need to thank me.” 

“I do,” he whispers, squeezing your hand against his stomach. “I do.” 

Tenderly, you kiss his forehead and stroke his hair back. “You don’t.” 

It is a reflex to lean closer when you kiss him, and within a moment he has leaned so close that you are rolled onto your back with him between your legs now, the book discarded. He pulls at the hem of your yellow sleeping shift, but you stop him. “Wait.” 

His orgasm is still sending waves of bliss through him, and he cocks his head to the side in a silent question. You grin. “The looking glass,” you say in a hushed tone. Close to the door stands a great reflective glass, large enough to see one’s full frame. 

Aemond understands immediately, and scrambles to his feet. Your hands are still clasped and so he pulls you up with him. “Of course. You do so love to watch.”

[maxillness]

That’s What Girlfriends Are For || LS18 x gf!Reader

Warnings: 18+, handjob, oral (m), quickie, sub!Lance, bathroom sex, hair pulling

Wordcount: 0.7k

Couldn’t find a gif from the scene in dts 😭

He didn’t ask her to go with him to the Bahrain Grand Prix, but she loved being there, loved being there for him

Besides, she had nothing else to do, and it was boring just being at home alone

She stood by his side, his arm slung around her shoulders, her own arm around his waist, pulling him close to her

She smiled slightly at Lando who walked over to them

“Heard about your accident. You okay, mate?” He asked, fist bumping Lance

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little pain, but they gave me some stuff” He explained to him

There was a second of silence before Lando spoke up again “Can you wank yet?” He asked, a smile on his lips

Making them all three chuckle, but Lance didn’t give an answer, giving her the opportunity to speak

“No, but that’s what girlfriends are for, right?” She said, making Lando laugh, and Lance chuckle, trying to hide his blush

“Alright. See you around” Lando said before walking off, still chuckling at her remark

He turned his body, now facing her “I hate you” He said, leaning down to kiss her

“It wasn’t wrong, or had you gotten more wrist control since this morning?” She smirked slightly

“Just you wait. When I get better, I’ll show you wrist control” He said, knowing damn well she would take control anyway

“You say that every time, and every time you end up a moaning mess under me” She said low, not trying to get any of the other drivers to hear them

“It’s easier to take control when it’s just a blow job” He said, kissing her again

“I’ll take that to a test” She grabbed his belt loop instead of his wrist, pulling him towards the nearest bathroom

“Babe-“ His words got cut short when the air in his lungs got pushed out when she pushed him up against the bathroom door

“Prove you can take control, Lance” She smirked, kissing his lips softly, touching both side of his jaw with her fingertips

She went to pull away, but his hands tangled in her hair, pulling her back into a rough kiss, startling her, putting her hands on his chest

He forced her to the ground, not caring if she hurt her knees. She looked up at him, smiling, loving this new side of him

She sat further up, hands going to the button, fiddling with it and the zipper. Pulling them down with his boxers to rest at his mid thighs

She grabbed his hips, starting to lick small kitten licks at the head of his cock, getting him fully hard

She started swirling her tongue around him, drawing out moans from him. He yanked on her hair, warning her to stop teasing

She smiled as she hollowed her cheeks, taking all of him in one go, earning a groan from him

“Fuck, just like that, baby” He moaned, throwing his head back against the door at the feeling of her tongue tracing his vain

“So good for me” His hand was still tangled in her hair, but he allowed her to set her own pace

She pulled back, only leaving the tip on her tongue before starting to circle it again, tracing the slit as well

He was a moaning mess in no time, hands trembling and thighs shaking rapidly. She smiled, digging her nails into his hip bone

She pulled off of him, taking him into her hand instead, stroking him at a slow pace

“N-no, baby, please. I need your mouth around me. Please, I’m begging you. Please” She kissed his thigh before speaking

“Thought you wanted control, Lance. Where did that go?” She asked, voice teasing, speeding up her wrist, making wet sounds

“Fuck you” He managed between moans, hips bucking into her hand, meeting her pumps

“Not now darling. Wait ‘til we get back to the hotel” She smirked before getting back to swirling her tongue around him

His grip tightened in her hair, making her groan, sending vibrations all through his body, pulling him over the edge, coming down her throat

She pulled off him, swallowing his cum, getting up on wobbly knees “My knees hurt, dumbass” She kissed his lips softly as he got into his pants again

“Think they heard me?” He asked breathlessly, kissing her cheek

“Definitely, you can never keep quiet when you come” She smirked, kissing his jaw before she unlocked the door and walked out with him

[almostempty]

Maladaptive Coping Mechanisms 

Part 2

Pairing: Javier Peñal x f!reader

Summary: Looking for an escape from a horrible day, you take a sexy stranger home from the bar. 

Warnings: smut, pwp, dom reader/sub jav undertones, switch reader/ switch javi undertones, oral sex, piv sex, AU unprotected sex has no risks bc it's fictional, pwp but some feelings involved, pet names, dick & pussy pronouns,

Notes: still practicing, would love feedback, constructive criticism, or delusional inspiration <3

thanks to @miss-oranje-disco-dancer for your thoughts on part 1, i hope this part lives up to the first, and to @gothcsz for encouragement, and the kind anon who asked for part 2

WC: 5.3K

AO3: here

Part 1: here

Masterlist: Here

It hurts gasping to catch your breath. Lungs filled with water. Eyes shut so tight a dull headache starts behind them. Every second feels like an hour. In your empty room, alone in your bed. Drowning. Sweat cooling and drying on your skin as the airconditioner hums. A sticky, wet pool of come between your legs. Damp, sweaty sheets. Great, add them to the laundry pile and everything else from your life you’d like to toss out the window. And over what? A man you said ten words to before your smile and fingers digging into his bicep begged him to fuck you? 

When you open your eyes, you can still see his staring back at you deep, warm brown. A new mirage to haunt your mundane existence. You can still hear his baritone voice scratching your ears. You blink and blink, but it doesn’t fade. Javier is standing before you. No shirt on, jeans unbuttoned. Sweat on his golden chest still casting an ethereal shine. He’s holding a fresh glass of water. Your dehydrated body salivates. He’s not a mirage in a desert, though. His shirt is still on your floor with yours. 

You scowl at him, drawing a confused look from him. 

“Something wrong, cariño?” he asks pointedly. 

“No.” 

He sets the water down but doesn’t move closer. He gives you a look. Like he knows your ‘no’ was bullshit. How would he know? He doesn’t know you. Irritation creeps in, replacing the suffocating emptiness. He places a hand softly on your thigh. Gentle so you don’t bolt and run into the street to get hit by an unsuspecting driver in the dark, unable to see you until their headlights flood your eyes and reflect. 

“Thought you’d left,” you answer quietly but honestly. You don’t know him. Why do you care if he thinks you look pathetic? 

“That fast? Without a shirt?” 

You shrug. 

“You want me gone?” He asks, revealing nothing about his own desires. Stoic and frozen to avoid bias. 

“No,” you shake your head, grab the water, swallowing and swallowing. It's so cold it hurts. You hope it never runs out. He can’t see who you really are if you’re hiding behind a glass. Despite your wishes, the glass runs dry. Javi takes it from you and sets it down. 

You look at the man in front of you with sober eyes. He’s incredibly handsome. Without being fueled by blind rage, alcohol, or a contagious horny fever, you aren’t quite as confident. In fact, you suddenly feel overcome with vulnerability. A cord of insecurity wraps around your throat, constricting. You reach for another cigarette to escape the sensation, but Javi intercepts. He takes your hand in his, pulling you towards him until he gets you out of bed and standing before him. He pulls you towards his broad frame and holds you tightly. Pressed against him, chest to chest, you listen to his deep, slow breathing. Skin to skin, he co-regulates you like a baby, fragile in his arms. 

You fight against it. Feeling pathetic. Unable to bare your fangs. Unable to slash with your claws and push him away. He holds you too tight. A heavy lump in your throat renders you unable to speak. Too raw. You’re lost at sea. Circling a whirlpool of dark thoughts. You wait for his rejection. An excuse. A line. A wink and a slap on the ass. A reason to stop fighting and drown. You shouldn’t care if he leaves or ruminate on what he says. He was a distraction. A hot, talented, unforgettable distraction. Another cigarette to burn down to your fingertips and discard in the pile of ash. 

As if, once again, he could hear your hurricane of thoughts bellowing and howling for your attention, Javi shushes you. 

“Quiet.” He runs his fingers up and down your spine. A little light shimmers behind your ribcage. His touch is soothing, and his voice is grounding as he hums into your ear about how soft your skin is. You inhale, your face pressed against his body. He’s spicy, earthy, and smoky. You bite and lick at the flesh you can reach. A barely there noise rumbles in his throat, only for you, only for the ear flush against him, flesh and blood. 

“Shhhh,” he murmurs, “enough.” The light in your chest flickers again. It’s dim, but still, it could guide someone through the dark forest of viscera in your chest cavity to your heart. You shudder. Letting someone follow that beacon through the labyrinth to your jagged, glowing soul? No. What if they see the ugly shape, naked and scarred and bruised? What if they know what you need? What if they give it to you altruistically. 

A stony scowl sets in place. Corners of your mouth weighed down and brows drawn tight. You break out of his hold. Rough and harsh against the warmth between your bodies. 

“How do you know?” You demand an answer. 

“Know what?” 

“Why are you shushing me?” 

“Too loud up here,” he taps the pad of his finger to your temple. A fissure streaking down your stone barricade.

“How do you know?” 

“You have tells.” 

“You don’t know me like that,” you jab a finger at his chest. Hostile and baiting. 

“I’m observant,” he says like it’s a reasonable explanation, unperturbed by your bristling. You stare at him expectantly, waiting for more. Might as well cross your arms and tap your foot. Observant? What the fuck does that mean? 

His hands flex at his sides, his mouth twitches, and then he rolls his shoulders, staying loose and relaxed. Like some thought just rolled through his whole body. “I’m not a good guy,” he says like it’s a fact. Not a threat or self-deprecating. Neutral. 

“But, I know what I’m good at,” he continues, “you clench your jaw, start breathing shallowly, and your eyes–” 

“Got it. I’m a walking billboard,” you cut him off sharply. 

“No.”

You stare back at his face. Unreadable. You wonder what his tells are. 

“I’m observant,” he repeats. You raise an eyebrow at him. “And,” he pauses, “I may have some special training and experience.” 

“In …observing?” 

“Something like that.” 

“What are you Javi? A PI? Secret agent man? FBI?”

“DEA.” 

“DEA?” 

“Formerly.” 

“Formerly? Did you get fired? Caught on the take? Testing the product?” 

He snorts at you. You cracked a smile out of him. It softens you. A playful ease reemerging.  

“Retired.” 

He’s a man of few words, it seems. His walls have a strong foundation. You scrutinize his face and body swiftly and blatantly. 

“You either have some freakish age-defying genetics, or the DEA retirement age is earlier than I thought,” you muse, earning a little huff of air that sounds like a stifled laugh from him. 

“Chose an early retirement; resigned.” Something else is on the edge of his tongue. It doesn’t formulate. 

“Did you like it?” You ask with sincerity. He blinks. Unprepared for that question. Shit, was that the wrong thing to ask? You notice the lines in his face. He runs his thumb across his bottom lip in thought. You wonder if that’s one of his tells. It’s kind of a slutty one, you think to yourself, suppressing a smile as you focus on his mouth. His lips. Soft and plush. The way they fit against yours– 

“I don’t think so,” he decides, “maybe early on.” 

You smile up at him, “s’good that you’re out of it then,” you say with an assertive nod. 

He nods back with a deep exhale. Release. Like he’s letting go of something, but his eyes seem unfocused now. Another tell? Maybe you need special training to know. He seems far away in his head. Withdrawing. No, you want him to stay present with you. You liked how it felt when he appeared connected. Here. With you. You liked his confidence. The chemistry egged you on like you both were in on a secret. You think you might know how to bring him back. Plus, he needs it, you decide. You aren’t done with him, and he hasn’t disappeared completely. You readjust internally. More. You’re still smiling, but with an edge he hasn’t caught yet. 

“Hey, Javi?” You purr. 

“Hmm?” Still faraway. 

You pick up one of his hands in both of yours and kiss each finger. Watching his face. Looking for the light behind his eyes. The tactile sensation draws it out like a stagelight, he’s fixed on your mouth. The size of your hands around his. The hunger in your eyes when you look through your lashes at him. 

“What else are you good at?” You drop your voice. Your demons chitter and flap around the room. Maybe they’re chasing his. You drag his fingers down your body. Slowly. Both your heads droop, chin to chest, watching the private show. Just for you, except it’s for him. Between your breasts, down your soft belly. Lower and lower. Breathing your shared hot air. All you can hear is the fan in the airconditioner and your pulse. Time weighted down by the tension. You pause. His hand is heavy, dead weight in yours, letting you have him. You reverse, tracing back up, the same path, until you’re about to kiss his fingers again, but instead you wrap your lips around one and suck. 

“Fuck,” his eyes widen briefly, and his jaw hangs slack. You pull off his finger wetly. Alluring. You don’t have to act. The expression forming on his face brings out your devious seductress. Smiling, wide. You bite your lip, toning it down. Batting your lashes at him. You’re like an image from a dream he’s been having since he was a teenager. He hopes he doesn’t wake up from it. 

“Javi?”

“Yes.” 

“What else are you good at?” you repeat. Tolerant of his lapse in responding. For now. 

The switch flicks. He regains autonomous control of his limbs. Hands curl around your form, until one rests along the back of your neck, fingers slid into the hair at the base of your skull. The other wedges between your legs. Hot against the sticky mess you’d been forcing yourself to ignore since he first got out of your bed. He’s here, back. 

“Good at making a mess of this pretty little pussy.” 

“Mmm,” you agree. His voice unlocks something ravenous. 

“Good at making you come wrapped around these fingers,” he slips and swirls them through the mess between your legs. Obscene. 

“Mmm.”

“Good at filling you with this cock until you forget how to say anything ‘cept for ‘please, Javi’,” he declares as his other hand wraps yours around his growing length. 

“Yes.” 

“Good at giving you something to feel,” he continues on. He is no longer a man of few words; he’s not a laconic lover. A filthy little devil dances on his tongue. He’s a willing vessel. Tugging at your hair and slipping through your folds. 

You giggle airily, and he pauses his running list of sex skills, waiting for an explanation. What could possibly be funny to you right now. 

“Giving me something to feel,” you slip between another giggle. “Right now,” you pull at his wrist, “I feel like we could use a shower before we keep going. We’re messy.” 

He laughs with you, and you adore how his eyes crinkle when he smiles wide. 

You wash each other in the shower with care. Roles reversed from the cab of his truck, you sternly demand he behaves in the shower, citing an unreliable hot water tank. It’s hard to resist fooling around covered in soap, but he holds up his hands in surrender. He promises to behave. But his cock refuses. It pokes and prods at your soft belly and lower back. Teasing. Begging to be scolded for disobeying. Protesting in opposition to Javier’s earnest affection. He’s gentle washing your back. Vulnerable letting you wash his. It’s rejuvenating. He cleared your mind earlier, and gave you something to feel, with care and attention. You commit yourself to returning the favor. You’ll give him a break from whatever led him to brooding on a barstool. 

You have a feeling he doesn’t give up control very often. He’s such an attentive listener, though. He’ll do great, you decide. 

He knows something has changed. Wretched observant thing he is. 

You are busy thinking, but you don’t have the same look on your face as you did at the bar or when he came back to your bedroom after getting more water. Your mind is racing, but with vigor. It radiates through the hot steam. A sparkle in your eye. Fluid movement. As if it were all premeditated, you dry off and direct him. 

He’s bewitched by the riddle of you. Bold and quick witted, but raw and honest. It’s easy to notice when you’re lost in your head, but he can’t predict you. Time speeds up and slows down in your presence. Like he was knocked out cold, face to pavement. Then thrown in the backseat of a speeding car, but it’s on a cross country trip. When he makes eye contact with you in the rearview mirror from the backseat it’s unnerving. Is he your hostage? Were you the getaway driver? 

You catch him drifting away. Naked and wet in your too bright bathroom, exposed like he’s on an operating table under the bright fluorescent lights. You watch as he towels off on autopilot. 

He realizes he wants to stay longer, not because he knows the broken look from your face earlier, but because something else already stitches you together. You’re peculiar. Direct. Expressive. His speed. Some unspoken understanding, resolute and vibrant. Cutting through the void of the unknown. Real. He can read when you disappaer, but he can’t predict you. 

Javi shakes his head to himself, lost in this train of thought. You’ve known her for a few hours. A couple drinks, sex, and a shower, he reminds himself. He also knows how you taste and how you feel wrapped around his cock, whining please, and that thought fans the flames. 

Enough. You decide. He needs this. 

He smells fresh and sweet from your body wash as you lead him back to your bedroom. He pulls your back into his damp chest, running his hands along your body and nearly purring in your ear. Good.

You whip around and take a step back, surprising him. He hesitates. You’re analyzing. Calculating. Your eyes drag over his body. His big brown eyes and kiss-swollen lips register that you pulled away from him. His hands flex like a predator, ready to grab and pull you back to him, but restrained. His cock reaches out towards you unabashedly, shouting for your attention. 

You can’t help but feel the smile you feel pulling at the corners of your mouth. 

“Javi?”

“Yes?”

“Are you good at following orders?”

“Nope.” 

You laugh, surprised by his quick honesty. 

“Kind of oxymoronic,” you ponder. 

“How?” 

“Well, now I don’t know if you should earn my favor for answering honestly or if I should prepare a punishment if you’re going to misbehave.”

Something flickers across his face. He swallows it. 

“Let me try again.” You move closer and cup his cheek in your palm like he did to you when you first sat on your bed for him. You look into his eyes and speak softly, “You gave me what I needed earlier. Made me feel so good I forgot everything else.” He waits for you to continue, but you feel his chest puff with pride. “I’d like to give you what you need now, Javi.” He swallows again. You wondered if he’d have a quip for that, but he looks so serious. Focused. 

“But first, I need to know if you’ll be good for me, Javi. Can you do that? Can you be good for me?” 

You feel him melt slightly, into your palm, nearly imperceptible the weight shifting into your hold. 

More. The wildfire within you is lit. Blazing. 

“Yes,” he nearly whispers. A flush of heat crawls up his chest. 

“Can you follow my orders?” 

“Yes, mi reina,” he said, consenting. That’s new. 

“Mmm,” you purr at him. 

“Does your pretty cock know that?” 

He blinks with a thin veil of confusion at you. Uncertain. 

“Yes,” he confirms. 

“Look at me,” you order. 

You sink to your knees in front of him. You ego does flips in your stomach. He looms over you, but you hold the reins. You pepper little kitten licks up the underside of his shaft, holding his eye contact and pausing. You rest your soft cheek against his thigh. He’s tense. Waiting to know the rules. 

“Does he look greedy to you?” You study the precome weeping from the head of his cock inches from your face. 

“No, mi reina.” 

“No?”

You avoid his crying erection and impishly toy with his balls. Lazily, you kiss and lick and suckle at them for your own enjoyment. And when you stop, you feel the weight of his gaze, and his unanswered questions, the payback. 

“So good for me watching and not touching,” you praise. “But, baby, look. He’s drooling like a rabid dog.”

You swipe up a trail of the glistening fluid with precision, doing nothing to relieve him. He swallows tightly, his body buzzing with tension like a livewire. He finds it easy to dole out pleasure, direct his energy towards someone else, drown in unraveling a woman’s desires. But your knowing look at him is unnerving. Rattling his bravado. You move with precision, intensely. 

“Tell me, Javi,” you peer up at his face, “do you have a greedy cock?” 

You’re going to ruin him. 

“Yes,” he relents through an exhale. You’ve found it. Kept locked in a cage. Leashed in the dark. How did you find it? Did he lead you there? 

You tilt your head at him. 

“Yes, mi reina,” he adds. 

“Say it for me, baby,” you push. 

He takes a shallow breath. You grin at him like a Cheshire Cat. 

“I have a greedy cock, mi reina, a greedy disobedient cock.” Unlocked, you pocket the key. You’ve unleashed something within him. His feels a swirl of sick pleasure twisting in his core. 

“Yes,” you exclaim with a bright look that gives him a rush. He wants to keep making you look like that. 

“You can touch.” You reward him. Too easy. 

He reaches for you, and you swat at his hand. 

“No, baby, you can touch your greedy cock, not me.” 

A whiny little groan comes out of him, prickling with need. 

“Slowly,” you add, watching as he obeys. His hand pumps slowly. You can’t resist. Holding out your tongue, you move close enough that his rosy head taps against your wet tongue just long enough to get a taste. You hum. Pleased with his obedience and the taste of him. 

“Fuck,” he whispers, closing his eyes tightly. 

“Your eyes stay on me, though,” you remind him gently, with leniency for his current state of executive functioning. 

“Would you like to know a secret?” You tease as you stand up and lean into his ear. 

“Yes,” he pants. Breathy and gravelly. Delight coats your expression, you 

“I like your big greedy cock,” you lilt. 

A soft whine is pulled from his throat. You frown dramatically at him. Causing him to pause his tense strokes and his brow to furrow. You love the intoxicating feeling of having him at your mercy. 

“But you already knew that,” you admonish, shaking your head at him. 

“Already knew that,” he repeats. You’re not sure he could tell you what he just agreed to know. 

“Not a very good secret then, I guess,” you think aloud. You’re light and lucid, bouncing around him as he’s anchored in the quicksand of your spell. 

“But do you know,” circling behind him, you press your soft tits into his back, and you continue to rasp towards his ear, “how wet my pussy is now? Just from the idea of taking your cock down my throat? She’s about to drip down my legs.” 

“Fuck,” he pants again and stops moving. You feel like the sun. You urge him to turn towards you as you crawl onto your bed and lay in the center. His eyes flick all over you, wanting to see everything. 

He’s fighting to figure out where to lock his eyes. It feels euphoric to see how openly aroused he is by you. 

“Did you know that?” You repeat. 

“No.” 

“S’what I thought,” you reposition yourself, “you wanna see for yourself?” 

“Yes,” he answers rapidly. Eager. 

You show him. Parting your legs to display the evidence. So wet and tender for him. 

You’re locked in a timeloop. When you see his eyes flood with lust, and his body tenses, your desire swells in your core, flooding your glossy folds. When he sees your glistening sex fluttering and pulsing, it nearly brings him to his knees. A horny sisyphian wet dream. Turning each other on. But, crucially, you know how to break free. 

“You wanna taste?” You ask. 

“Yes, please.” Good manners. 

He starts to move towards you, and you press him back. 

“No, baby, lay right here, and I’ll give you a taste.” 

He’s obedient. Settling next to you. For a moment, he has the urge to drag you by the hips to sit on his face. To take you for himself, no games. But then he hears your sweet voice praising him and feels overcome with a dizzying sense of validation. 

“So perfect, baby, look at you,” you continue showering him with adoration. You’re mesmerizing with your sweet scent, wet lips, and your glassy eyes. Too good for him. He doesn’t deserve your attention like this. 

You see the crease between his brows as he starts to overthink. Enough. You bite sharply at his nipple, and he yelps and gapes at you. You straddle his waist and give him a stern look. 

“Stay here with me, Javi,” you order, ”don’t disappear in there.” You tap a finger lightly against his temple. He nods. 

You hover over him and slip his swollen head through your folds, easily coating his length. He shudders and groans. So openly vocal and responsive to you. That’s good. I like to hear you, baby. You use him as you please, like a toy circling your clit. But it’s everything about him that saturates you in pleasure. 

“Feel so fucking good,” you praise before pulling back and shifting down between his legs. 

You lick and suck your arousal off of him. Loud and messy. You climb towards his face. “Open,” you place your hand under his jaw, “taste,” you murmur before feeding your tongue into his mouth. Kissing hungrily he lets out desperate, deep groans. Relaxing into your movements he simply accepts what you give and lets you feel his uninhibited reactions. 

He finds you vexing and tantalizing. Letting him touch and taste, but not directly. He’d have half a mind to argue with you—despite having tormented you just the same—but how you light up and laugh when you best him fills him with a more profound desire. He likes how you look when you’re in charge. He likes that he just has to keep up. He likes being all consumed by the present moment, so caught up in you he can’t think about anything else. 

You break away, seemingly satisfied with his participation thus far. You’re ethereal and glowing above him. 

You slide down and return to your retribution. Teasing by lightly drawing your fingers around his leaking cock as it lies against his lower abdomen. You revel in delight over his muscles tensing and flexing, and he huffs impatiently as you increase the intensity of your vengeance. You trace the same outline with your tongue; you use his moves from earlier, breathing warm and cool air over his length and watching it twitch. 

You stare up at him as you run the flat of your tongue from his balls up to his tip. He looks wrecked, staring back at you, and you feel powerful, holding his attention.  

He catches the flash of a smirk before you slip your mouth around his tip and nearly overwhelm him with the warm slip of your tongue and the pressure of your mouth wrapped around him. 

“Fuck,” he rasps. 

You don’t let up, swiftly taking him further down. You focus on breathing and working him into the back of your throat, then back to just the tip. Your saliva drips and coats him as your hands work in time with your bobbing head. It’s messy, and the noises are pornographic as you pour your enthusiasm onto him. He’s cursing and groaning while you continue on, and you can’t take the sight of him anymore. You pull off him and crawl up the bed on your hands and knees. You sit up and pick up one of his hands. 

“Javi, I have a problem,”

“Shit, what?” 

“When your cock is in my mouth, my pussy gets jealous. She’s too empty,” before he can respond, you drag his hand through your obscenely wet folds. 

“Fuck,” he chokes out. It must be his favorite word. 

“Mhmm,” you agree. 

“Use me,” he says in a hoarse voice. 

“I intend to,” you reply. 

And you do. You ride him with an unrestrained vigor. You start bouncing up and down, tossing your head back to give him a little show. You drive him into a frenzy as you freely describe how good he makes you feel. And when he looks wholly fucked out, you taunt him for looking so pleased when his body is yours to use. 

When he breaks, you feel his hands caress your body greedily. He squeezes at your hips, and he gapes with stars in his eyes at your tits perfectly filling his hands. He gropes at your ass and digs his fingers into your plush skin, pulling you down harder onto him with each bounce.

You consider how you might torture him further for touching without asking, but decide you just need to see him come undone. A single thought crosses your mind like a brilliant marquee on an empty boulevard.

He remains happy to obey as you instruct him to swap positions. 

“You’re going to keep fucking me hard and deep while I come on your cock,” you order as you trail your hand down to your clit to your liking. 

“Yes,” he agrees. “Come. Come on my cock.” He chants raggedly as you do. Your orgasm ripples across your body until the oversensitivity hits, and you press your hand into Javi’s chest. He pauses, hovering over you. You breathe as you come down and observe the exertion written across his features. 

“Again,” you state, and he slides back into you. “I need it now, Javi,” you continue. “I need you to come. Fill me up. Just like you promised.” 

You can’t get there with him again fast enough, but don’t need to. You just want to feel him deep inside you, releasing everything he’s got. And he’s more than willing to follow orders. He thrusts into you deeply until his hips jerk, and you can feel him pulsing inside of you as he comes. 

“Please, take it.” You make out in between words that he smothers in your skin.  

When he collapses on top of you, and your fingers rake through his hair, it’s as if he turns to liquid, and your soul absorbs him up. 

You hum contentedly at him and push until he rolls off. 

You order him to stay in bed before you’re off to clean up, bring him a towel, and of course, refill water glasses for both of you. As you walk into the kitchen, you see the flashing light on your answering machine. You didn’t notice it when you got home earlier, but it reminds you of the reality of the night. You know it’s a scathing message from your ex for walking away hours ago. 

You feel a thread of annoyance, but it doesn’t escalate as you return to your bedroom. 

Javi is where you left him and watches you with a funny look in his eyes as you carry on about your tasks until you return to his side. He likes seeing you move about your space, naked and unhurried. How insistint you are about taking care of him, it feels natural. 

“What?” you grill him for staring. 

“Nothing, nothing,” he assuages, raising his hands in defense. 

You like how he looks in your bed with his dewy skin and mussed hair. 

“Seems like you can be good at following orders,” you note.  

“Depends on who’s doing the ordering, I guess” he shrugs, and you roll your eyes. 

You offer him a cigarette and notice the time on the clock on your nightstand. 

“It’s late,” you state, and he nods, taking a long drag. 

“Stay,” you suggest, hoping it doesn’t sound needy. 

“That an order, mi reina?” 

You didn’t expect to hear that endearment outside of sex. It makes you float. 

“Yes.” 

“Good.”

He’s there. In the morning when you wake up. Taking up too much space in your bed, sprawled on his stomach. Trapping you under a heavy arm. Snoring hot air into your shoulder. His body is a furnace, the sheet balled up towards your feet, leaving his bare skin exposed to the morning light. His smooth back and the curve of his ass are candid and honest next to you. You figured he would’ve disappeared before you woke up. Like a cryptid. You thought you’d be searching for any trace that he was real. Fortunately, you are surrounded by evidence. He is real, and unguarded. And somehow weighing your whole body down with just one arm. You squirm trying to check the time and he stirs. You still. 

“Morning,” he grumbles. Of course his morning voice is sexier than you could’ve imagined. 

“Morning.” 

He peels his arm from your skin, releasing you. Free to stretch you reveal the ache in your shoulders from sleeping in that position with a groan. The room smells like sweat and sex, with faint notes of your shampoo and his aftershave lingering on your pillows. You instantly miss his touch, despite the fact that you were overheating from his warmth. You wait for a clue. What happens next? He was supposed to be temporary. A high you chased. Just a distraction, help you avoid reality and your emotions. But you like having him spread out on your mattress in the morning. You’d like to hear more of his voice. 

He flips onto his back and scoops you under his arm. Oh. Head on his chest. You hear the strong beat of his heart in his chest. You might as well try. 

“You want–” “Can I–” 

You both laugh, your head bumping into his chest. You urge him to go first. Reveal his hand. 

“Can I take you to breakfast?” he asks, “maybe after another shower,” he adds considering whatever fluids are still pasted to his skin. 

You couldn’t have resisted the smile spreading on your face if you’d been warned ahead of time. You know he feels it pressed against his skin. 

“I was going to offer to make coffee, but that does sound better.” 

“Good.”

“Plus, I could use a ride back to my car. It’s still outside the bar.” 

“A ride, hm?” His voice melts over the top of your head. You’re not listening to the words. Floating in a cloud. Just the baritone of his voice keeping you in the air. “C’mere, I’ve got a ride for you, cariño,” he growls into your hair before pulling you all the way on top of him. You shake with airy laughter, sitting up. Your laugh lights up his eyes. He looks at you like he wants more. 

It’s enough. 

[zablife]

Ask Me Why I'm Like This

Johnny Davis x female reader

Johnny Davis Masterlist

Summary: After Benny leaves you questioning your life choices, Johnny is there to pick up the pieces.

A/N: This is in response to @semperamans's amazing fic about toxic!Benny. The thought of providing the reader with some loving aftercare from Johnny wouldn't leave my mind so I hope you don't mind that I ran with the idea, darling!

The phone only rings this late at night with bad news, someone's in hospital or jail, but regardless Johnny answers because as club president it's an indication he's needed somewhere. When the caller doesn't immediately identify themselves he takes a deep breath, the whimpers and shaky breathing on the other end of the static filled line telling him everything he needs to know.

"What's wrong, baby doll, hmm? Tell Johnny," he hums to you gently, finger stroking the receiver as he might your delicate cheek if only you were standing in front of him now. He's well aware if he doesn't take care in this moment, you'll give up and slam the phone down and that's the last thing he wants.

"I saw B-b-benny..." you stutter before breaking down again.

His hand slides down his face as he remembers he was the one to tell you Benny had returned, practically encouraging your return to the kid’s doorstep.

"Where are ya?" he asks over the sounds of your muffled cries. "You know I'll come," his deep voice promises in a slow, steady rhythm.

His fist clenches tightly at his side as he waits for your reply because it's times like these he could throttle Benny for his carelessness. Johnny tries to steel his mind and yet he still imagines you running from the safety of the telephone booth. He pictures you stumbling into the darkened street in a thin nightgown, weak and vulnerable. It isn't hard because this isn't the first time he's had to find you in the middle of the night after Benny's wetted his dick.

"M-montrose," you sniffle.

"Okay, stay there," he instructs. "You don't move, alright?" he adds for good measure.

"I w-won't move," you repeat back to him through hiccuped sobs.

Twenty minutes later, Johnny's bike is roaring toward you, his eyes wild with fear. You amble toward him as if in a dream, waiting for your knight in shining armor.

He brushes the fringe from your forehead, as he asks, "You okay?"

You nod as he helps you climb onto the bike, arms finding a comfortable spot low on his abdomen instinctively. "There's my girl," he coos before driving off into the twilight.

The cold clutch of your fingers against his stomach bothers him despite the lingering heat of the day. Johnny wonders if it hadn't been a bad idea to introduce you to Benny after all if this was going to be the aftermath.

When he parks the bike in front of the house, he has to help you from the seat, your exhausted body still trembling. "You don't look so good," he blurts before he catches himself.

"M fine," you mutter, heading toward the house and he rushes to catch up, gathering your bowing body under his strong arm. Scooping you up, he carries you up the flight of steps, suggesting a bath to calm your nerves.

That's not the real reason, of course. With your body pressed so tightly against him, he can smell Benny on you and feel the sticky remnants when his hand brushes the backs of your thighs. He grits his teeth when he thinks of Benny's selfishness, especially after the constant reminders that bordered on threats. "Wear a rubber, kid. Don't want you ruinin' her life, you understand?"

As your head rolls into Johnny's shoulder with a drowsy little yawn, he knits his brow, wondering if this scene will replay itself in the fall over a child Benny will want nothing to do with. But Johnny's eyes soften at the corners, the beginnings of a smile lighting his face as he thinks of his hand being the one to rest protectively over your stomach.

The daydream is fleeting, no use borrowing trouble when all you need is the steaming hot water filling the large tub in his bathroom. He busies himself with finding items for you, a soft towel and one of his worn t-shirts.

Your toes sink into the plush bathmat, giggling at the baby pink Betty must have chosen long ago. Johnny doesn't notice, or maybe he thinks it's his knuckles brushing softly against your ribcage as he slips your nightie over your head. Whatever it might be, neither of you consider your nakedness as you slip into the water with a hiss. What you have with Johnny is far too comfortable for anything resembling modesty.

That's why it surprises you when Johnny turns his head, muttering something about making a pot of coffee. "It'll sober ya up," he decides with a nod, turning to leave you in the froth of too many bubbles.

“M not drunk,” you protest, small hand darting out to paw at the leg of his trousers. “Just need somebody to hold onto," you confess, reddened eyes and puffy lips staring up at him like he's your whole world.

And he can’t ignore that, your plea for comfort within the safety of his arms. Without another thought, he’s undressing and sloshing water onto the floor as he seats his hulking body behind you. "I'm here. You're not alone," he tells you, caging your body between his muscular thighs.

You rest your head against his chest with a sigh, fingers searching his beneath the soapy water. When you’ve locked hands you whisper, “I never meant it to happen like this, I swear. But you always take such good care of me. Don't know why I didn't come here in the first place...”

Johnny can hear the catch in your throat before he hushes you, placing a kiss to your temple as he feels his cock stirring. Why do you have to be so goddamn sweet at a time like this, he wonders? It makes him want to ravish you, but that’s the last thing he should be thinking about after Benny’s had his.

He tries to displace the thoughts, but they return with a vengeance as soon as he takes up a sponge and lathers it. Stroking along your exposed arms, then down the valley of your breasts. He can’t help but notice how you drop your knees open for him as he draws closer to your core, heart thundering against your back as he wonders if he should be the one to clean the mess Benny's left.

You reach a hand behind you deftly, landing at the base of his neck with little effort and you begin stroking your nails along the shorn hairs, feeling them prick against you with every passing sweep.

As he draws figure eights against your delicate folds you moan softly into his chest hair, the exquisite feeling pulling high pitched whimpers from you. "D-don't stop," you beg as his calloused fingers finish what he's begun, knowing the friction against your inner wall will be too delicious to stop now.

You come with his name on your lips, melting into him as your orgasm washes over you like the waves of lukewarm water lapping against the side of the bath. It isn't nearly what Johnny craves, but he accepts tonight is about you and your needs, especially as he notices how droopy your eyelids have become.

He shifts beneath you, resting your chin on the ledge as he drains the tub. Lifting you out in one swift motion, he drapes you in downy softness, the scent of him encircling you like a bulwark.

"M tired, Johnny," you mumble against his neck and he wastes no time laying you across his bed, dressing your limp body like a rag doll before tucking you beneath the covers. He places a kiss to your cheek as he turns out the light, sliding in beside you to cradle you against his warmth.

Just as he thinks you've drifted off, your small voice cuts through the silence. "Why am I like this?" you whisper, lips grazing his collarbone.

"Like what?" he asks, trying not to bob his chin which rests lightly atop your head.

"Fucked up....lost..." you mutter in confusion, bottom lip teetering between your teeth precariously.

Johnny finds your cheeks, pinches them between his thumb and forefinger as he brings your face up to meet his eyes which have only just adjusted to the dark. "You're not lost when you're here with me," he reminds you and that thought calms you instantly.

Wrapping an arm around his waist you drift off into the most peaceful sleep you've had in weeks.

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Read the epilogue here