#it gets impossible to ignore the writing of this season

[cherry-berry-candy]

see my issue with tv theory being true is that there's also like. 70 other things we need to resolve by the end of the next episode (imo)

why was susan twist appearing everywhere? what's the deal with ruby's mother, to whatever extent that will get answered? why was the master vainglorious playing (unless that was just a bad call and rtd/murray thought we just wouldnt think that hard about it? like it was weeping angel theme for zygon statues sort of deal? or it was some sort of bait?)? who is mrs flood? why was there so much susan foreman stuff going on (unless that was also purely a bait)? WHAT IS SUTEKH'S ACTUAL PLAN DURING THE EPISODE THERE ALSO NEEDS TO BE A MAIN PLOT

and then there's things from the trailer. where is this desolate wasteland? how do we get in the (ostensibly) real TARDIS? how do we get there and at a point where ruby and 15 are just like. preparing? on top of being in the memory TARDIS at one point?

do we have time for all of that and for a tv reveal? because that's going to require some Time

[aquaticmercy]

Almost Kisses

Summary : Bucky's kisses have become a daily part of your life together, but it wasn’t always that way.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x Reader (she/her) 

Warnings : very slight mention of food and mild cursing

Requested by : @buckys-wintersoldier

Word count : 1.8k

Note : This one was very fun! I was listening to Work Song By Hozier while writing this, so it's safe to say the song served as a bit of inspiration, too. I did say it would be >1k word blurb but I have once again got over the limit.

Requests are open!

Kissing you had become second nature to Bucky. Every morning when he woke up, every night before bed. It was part of his routine, it felt as natural as breathing. He kissed you when he passed you in the kitchen, when you laughed at something ridiculous, when you weren’t paying attention. He kissed you just because he could.

It was hard for him to remember a time before that, but once, kissing you had seemed impossible.

The first time the thought even crossed his mind, you were standing outside his apartment door, trying to get his attention. Sam had called you, worried about him after days of radio silence, days of ignoring texts and phone calls from both him and his therapist. 

Sam could get through to Bucky on most days, but on the really hard ones, when the weight of his past pulled him under the covers and refused to let him go, there was only one person who could reach him. You. 

Somehow, Bucky had imprinted on you in a way he never had with anyone else. Sam wasn’t stupid— he knew that Bucky was down hard for you. Hell, everyone who ever saw the two of you interact knew that Bucky was in love with you. Everyone except you.

Because love had to keep you blind like that, at least for a while.

"Bucky?" Your voice was soft that day, muffled by the door separating you from him. You knocked again, gentler this time. "I brought you pizza. Just cheese, no toppings—your favorite." You paused, like you were waiting for signs of life, anything, but the silence was deafening. You lowered your voice, a whisper now. "I cut off the burnt bits, the way you like it."

The door creaked open, just a sliver of light pouring in from the apartment. Bucky's figure stood in the shadow, his frame filling the doorway, but his voice was small and frail. "Extra cheese?"

"Of course, Buck." Your lips curved up knowing you’ve essentially made it in. You slipped inside the moment he stepped back. 

That night, you didn’t leave his side. You pulled him out of the dark waters he had drowned himself in. He told you about his nightmares, the memories that wouldn’t let him breathe. You listened, laughed when he cracked the odd dark joke, and cried while exchanging stories. Minutes blurred into hours, and eventually, you fell asleep beside him on the couch, your head resting on his shoulder. 

That was the night he realized what you did to him. You didn’t just pull him out of his pit of despair— you made him feel alive. Electric.

The next morning, you took a shower, borrowing one of his shirts since yours were dirty. Seeing you in his oversized clothes twisted something inside him, drove him insane with wild thoughts— he almost said something, but bit his tongue to stop the flow of words that would have been unstoppable. When you hugged him goodbye, he held on just a second too long, his arms tightened around you, hesitating to let go and wishing he could stay in the safety of your embrace forever. And for just a heartbeat, he stared at your lips. He almost gave in, almost kissed you right then and there, but he shoved the thought away at the last second. Why would you ever want to kiss someone like him?

The second time he almost kissed you was at the ice rink in Central Park. It was the holiday season, and this year Bucky realised that he didn’t need to spend it alone anymore. He invited you out, convincing himself it wasn’t a date— just two friends hanging out, doing friend things.  

You were hesitant, admitting you couldn’t skate and that the ice never seemed to agree with you, but he insisted.

"You can hold onto me," he teased, though he left out  telling you how much he wanted you to. Just to feel you close. Just for you to embrace him again.

"Buck!" you squealed when he picked up speed, your hands clutching his jacket tight around your fist in a death grip. "You’re going way too fast!"

He laughed, slowing to a stop in the middle of the rink. The moonlight between trees shrouded the two of you. You stumbled into his chest, your fingers curling into his coat. For a second, you didn’t move. You stayed there, taking in his scent. "What would I do without you?" you murmured into his chest, voice barely above a whisper.

In that moment, he realised that you weren’t just his friend out of pity— You made him feel wanted. Needed.

His hands found your cheeks, his thumb brushing lightly across your skin. He could almost taste how your lips would feel— soft, warm, perfect. His breath hitched, his body taking control. But then, just as quickly, he put his logical mind back in the pilot seat. He pulled away. Why would you want to kiss someone who’d been broken as many times as him?

The third time he thought about kissing you, he could’ve sworn you wanted it, too. You were on one of your usual runs and morning coffee— your ritual together. It happened once or twice a week when he wasn’t whisked away to some strange land for a mission. 

Bucky always slowed his pace to match yours. He didn’t mind since he could spend those extra moments near you. 

After the runs, you’d get coffee together. He talked about everything—his life in the 40s, his family, Steve, his friends from school. 

You gave him pieces of his humanity back with every conversation. With you, he felt more than a soldier— you made him feel more organic. Human.

He felt that, for once, he was more interesting than the winter soldier.

He then talked about wanting a small pet, maybe a dog, or a white cat. 

"What, am I not companion enough?" you had teased.

His ears burned, and the super soldier found himself stammering. "That’s not what I meant."

You laughed as you brushed coffee foam off his facial hair. The briefest touch and his heart started racing out of control.

He could've sworn you leaned in just slightly, almost instinctively. He wanted to kiss you. He needed to. But again, he pushed it down, convincing himself that the two of you were just friends. 

The day after, he found himself lying on the couch, thoughts spiraling. He couldn’t stop thinking about you— your lips, your laugh, your touch. He didn’t know what to make of it. The feelings ate away at his sanity, and they wouldn’t go away. For the first time, he asked himself the question he was too afraid to ask: was this how it felt to be truly, deeply, and desperately in love?

Then came the knock.

He opened the door, and there you were, looking as tired as he felt. Your hair was a mess, your clothes crumpled, and you looked like you haven’t slept since he saw you yesterday, but you were still so goddamn beautiful. You had this infectious wild energy, like you were on the edge of discovering the secret to world peace.

"I’ve been thinking all night," you said, stepping inside the gap he had open. That was how welcome you felt in his space, how comfortable he was with you. "If I’m wrong, this is going to be so embarrassing, but— three times. You almost kissed me three times."

Bucky blinked, caught off-guard.

"That night with the pizza, when I said goodbye," you continued, pacing around the room in deep thought. "The ice rink. And yesterday at the coffee shop." You held up three fingers at his face, your hands trembling slightly. "Three times is too much to be a coincidence. Three times is too much to just accidentally lean in. Please, tell me you’ve thought about it. Tell me you’ve wanted to kiss me because—" You stopped, looking into his beautiful eyes. "Because I’ve thought about it too."

Your voice was shaky. Bucky had never seen you so vulnerable, so uncertain. So hopeful.

"This is so embarrassing," you muttered, your voice now barely a whisper. But before you could say anything else, Bucky closed the distance between you. He grabbed you by the waist and kissed you, his lips capturing yours in a desperate rush. All the hesitations melted away from the tension in his muscles, and it was better than he’d imagined a thousand times. He didn’t know how it was possible, but you tasted even sweeter than he had dreamed. His hands tangled in your hair as you stood on tiptoes, clutching him as if he might slip away.

When you finally pulled back, breathless, you whispered in disbelief, "So I was right."

Bucky smiled, finger running along your skin, in a sensory attempt to remind him the was all real and not just one of his fantasies. "Only took you half a year to notice."

You laughed softly, melting into his touch. "I could say the same for you."

He chuckled, leaning down to kiss you again. "Shush," he whispered between kisses. He was addicted now. He needed his fix. He needed your touch, your warmth, your lips on his. Again, and again, and again.

And that was more than a year ago. Now, Bucky still couldn’t stop kissing you. If anything, it had only gotten worse, not that you were complaining.

He kissed you every chance he got. When you rolled over in bed, still half asleep, he kissed your forehead. When you stretched in the kitchen, reaching for a mug for your afternoon tea, he kissed the back of your neck. When you came home late from work, tired but smiling, he pulled you into his arms and kissed you breathless, as if you were the only thing keeping him grounded.

"Buck," you laughed, stopping his train of thought, playfully trying to squirm away as he pulled you onto his lap. "We’re supposed to be watching a movie."

His lips found the sensitive spot behind your ear. "But I’d rather kiss you."

You were powerless against him, as you always are. Laughing softly, you said, "You know, you kiss me every day. Aren’t you tired of me yet?"

He pulled back just enough to look at you, reminding himself of how lucky he was that he had you here. That if it wasn’t for you storming into his apartment in a frenzy with a theory, you wouldn’t be here in his arms. "Never." His voice was so soft, making your breath hitch.

You were about to say something smart, but Bucky stopped you with another kiss, his lips gentle and loving, yet there was such a fiery passion beneath. You curled into him, his warmth wrapping around you like a blanket. When you finally pulled away, you were both breathless, the movie long forgotten.

He stared at you, thumb brushing the side of your face, as if memorizing every detail. "I’m never gonna stop kissing you," he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours. His voice was a little rough, his throat dry from the taste of you. "I don’t think I could, even if I tried."

And you believed him.

-end

[venmondiese]

The needs of a prince are the work of a whore.

slight spoiler for season 2 episode 3 of house of the dragon

masterlist ✧works in procress ✧ A03

✧Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader ✧Rating: +18 mdni explicit ✧word count: 3.3k

-ˋˏsummary: after aegon's mockery at the brothel, he pushes Aemond into having another whore. Anything royalty asks for, it is the brothel's duty to provide. ✧Warnings: MDNI 18+, p in v sex, most of aemond's kinks lol, oral sex (m receiving), tiddy suckin, reader works in the brothel, tw: aegon in ep3, behaviour that reflects trauma. ✧ note: i had to write about this scene lol. i looooved to hint at aemond's response to trauma and how his mind works bc #psychology

“Brother!” The slurred voice came from behind him, and Aemond could practically smell his pestilence. He ignored his eldest brother, walking between the debauchery in the brothel. He never stayed longer to presence how whores were getting fucked and groped, as he didn’t enjoy staying longer than needed. 

The cold stone on his feet feel like a hold onto reality, as he tries not to stumble across drunkwards and their whores, as to where Aegon behind simply collides and curses them out, following Aemond.

“Your King commands you to stop walking” Aegon says loudly, a voice that he hears, but the rest of the brothel seems not to care. Aemond sighs, he breathes in, tired of Aegon. He doesn’t have any weapon, but he will strangle him to death in this very brothel, not caring if they are going to kill him the moment he touches Aegon. 

Aegon might humiliate him, but he is the most powerful attack and defence they have. Without Aemond, without Vhagar, they are nothing. They can stand a chance because of him. Because of Vhagar. Because he was brave enough to claim her, to the cost of his eye. 

He turns around, his face expressionless as he looks at his brother, naked as the day he was born. 

“Don’t be such a twat” Aegon says, his voice still dripping that mockness and cruelty Aemond was so used to.

It’s like Aegon tries to walk without staggering, but a young couple collides with him, almost making him fall.

“You imb-” The other drunkard insults him as he falls, and Aegon turns to see him. “My King-” the man stutters, as he tries to do the most pathetic curtsy Aemond has ever seen. And he has been used to seeing people bow to him all his life. “I didn’t mean to, forgive me” 

Aemond looks away, sighing as the man clings to Aegon’s feet, begging for forgiveness for cursing the King, and Aegon rolls his eyes, almost shaking his foot to get rid of him. Aemond rolls his eye as he starts walking away.

“Stop.” Aegon says as he sees Aemond walking away. “Brother, you will– It’s my duty, as king and elder, to finally initiate you, to make sure you are–” He rambles and Aemond sighs. If it's very hard taking his brother seriously before, now it is impossible with a man clinging to his feet and kissing his boots for forgiveness. “With… her”

Aemond turns his gaze to the young lass, standing dutifully behind the man clinging at Aegon’s feet, her hands clasped together as she looks at the ground, pretending not to exist. Doesn’t seem interested in getting in the mess that the royals have been in.

“Yeah, you” Aegon says, smirking as if he got a brilliant idea. “Quite new, aren’t ya?”

You hesitate, looking at Aemond and then Aegon, nodding. “Yes, my King” 

“Look” he says in a mocking tone, still slurred, as he steps closer to Aemond, finally having his feet free from the man. He places a hand on his shoulder, and gives him encouraging slaps. “A pretty young maiden for you.”

You look at the prince. If you were as young and a maiden as he presented you, you probably would not be here, he knows. 

“If it pleases my prince…” it’s your soft voice. 

Aemond clenches his jaw. You were pretty. The type of pretty that highborn ladies should be, and the eyes of a seductress. Not the type Aegon fancied, the ones who were lewd, and probably would crawl to Aegon and start grinding to get off. You see the type of woman that he fancies.

He is not used to it. Fuck a stranger. It’s… odd. He knew the madame, and she knew him. The comfort she gave him was different from fucking a whore amongst the rest. 

“Your King commands you to” Aegon says smugly, turning to see Aemond. “Time to get it wet”

Aemond has to breathe, considering murder. He closes his one eye, teeth gritting as he is so done with his brother. And to think that he has the power to tease him with no repercussions. 

“Find a room for his royal highness to use you” Aegon says to her, passing her a sack of golden coins, not having the decency of counting the money he was spending. You just grab it in your hand, as Aegon tries to push Aemond towards you, which he doesn’t grant him the right to. “Go on. Have fun, after all, one whore is as good as another”

As Aegon walks away, Aemond inhales sharply and looks at you. He already paid you, and he knows that with that amount, you’ll probably cling to his back and follow him until he dismisses your service.

You are shy to grab his hand, and guide him to one of the free rooms. The hour is late, so it’s busy. You have expected to get fucked in a corner, not in one of the fancy rooms with the prince. 

It’s relatively easy to get a room when Aemond is behind you, naked and with an unpleasant expression. Even if his face isn’t as familiar as the King’s, the sapphire is enough to recognise the Kinslayer. 

You accommodate the bed a bit, and you sit in the middle of it, looking at him with big eyes. He noticed you were good with your eyes, inspecting things about him, as if you were one of the ladies that sat in the dirty streets and offered to read palms. You just did it quietly, as you sat in the bed.

“What things do you fancy, my prince?” You ask softly. “I know many things”

He scoffs at the question, sitting on the edge of the bed. He knows you mean diverse acts of debauchery, from a lap dance to using your mouth for his pleasure. What would you know of things he liked?

“Shall I fetch you some wine?” You add softly.

“Fine” 

You move rather quietly, taking some wine and a cup for him. He is as good as inspecting as you; he watches your nervousness that you hide behind a calm facade. As you extend the cup to him, he makes his mind, standing up as he sips the wine, scanning at you, his only eye is as intense as it is intimidating. Yet you look back at him, sitting on your heels, in the middle of the bed. 

“Undress” 

As you unlace your dress, his eye lingers over you, watching your soft body be unveiled before his gaze, making him inhale again. You noticed that he did that quite often, as if to reorientate his thoughts. 

What he thinks is a mystery, because he is not expressive. He seems calculating, and you are not sure of what he actually wants. But you see his eye, lingering a moment on your body; your breasts. 

You might not know his thoughts, but you know the look of lust in a man’s eye. 

You crawl closer to the edge of the round mattress, looking at him as he has stayed standing there, inspecting you. It is clear that he doesn’t trust you, not as much as he did with madame Sylvi.

Perhaps it was the mockery of his brother, the cruelty that you witnessed, but you know that Aemond sees something in you that arouses him, and for you, that’s enough to keep going. It’s not like you don’t want him, he was not only a prince, but he was completely divine. His physique, and the way he was pure muscle, delighted you in the best ways possible. It was the body of a Targaryen prince, often said to be closer to god than men. 

“Allow me, my prince” you say, looking up to him. 

He looks down at you, and as he considers his options, you take the chance to look at his hardening manhood, sighing a bit, longing to feel the prince’s cock on your mouth. 

“Go on” he murmurs, his voice raspy as he looks down at you. 

You wish you knew better what he likes, but you’ll improvise a bit. You press a soft kiss on the lower part of his abdomen, slowly moving the kisses lower and lower, feeling his hard abdomen under your lips and moving to his crotch. You look up to him a last time, which he has not taken his eye out of your face. 

You take his hardening and growing cock on your hand, moving it slightly to the side to keep on pressing kisses on it. You feel the desire growing on your belly, and you accommodate your legs to lean forward a bit more, still moving your kisses down, fondling his balls in your hand as you keep on kissing him. More sloppy, wet kisses, kissing him almost tenderly, almost at the edge of pure lust. A primal need to keep on worshipping his cock this way. 

Lazy eyes turn up to see him once again, as he has his mouth open, panting as one of his hands moves to your hair, moving it out of your face as he licks his lower lip, before moving your face, just to slip his cock in your mouth softly. 

The mere fact that you are pleasing a prince, makes you shiver with pleasure. And not any prince, but Aemond. It was more like a privilege, in which you had no interest in wasting it. 

His cock invades your mouth, as he slowly moves your head for your throat to engulf him, but you are greedy; bobbing your head, looking up at him as he throws his head back, his silver hair spills over his shoulders as he savours the feeling. 

The way his hips rock rocks and push his cock past her lips, made her eyes roll back ever so slightly, as her tongue moved along the length. He pushes your face further into his groin, as he fucks her mouth with slow and deliberate strokes, his balls hitting her chin repeatedly, as he chases the arousing sensation of having his cock deep in your throat. 

“Brother!”

You don’t take your mouth off because you are not asked to. The King is rather drunk, and you see that prince Aemond is not in the mood for his antics.

“See?” Aegon asks in a mocking tone, as he steps in the room. “A good whore would get you-”

“We are busy here” Aemond says between gritted teeth. The humiliation tinted his cheeks pink, as his hand holding your hair hesitates on its grip. 

Aegon looks at you, and you gaze at him for a moment. An error, you realise as he speaks to you now.

“Do you enjoy him, girl? Or is he still a crybaby?”

You don’t miss the way Aemond’s fist clenches around your hair, and pulls you out from his cock. You look at him, as if asking for advice on what to answer. 

“Answer the King” Aemond murmurs, gritting teeth as he looks away.

“He’s the best I’ve ever had, my King”

“His royal highness has finally accomplished something on his own, I could probably enjoy you after he-”

“Though you might enjoy a-” Your voice interrupts him, and both men turn their gazes to you. “You might enjoy a new Lyseni girl here, your grace. Pure blood Valyrian”

Perhaps it’s the drunkenness of His Grace’s senses, but he doesn’t decide to have your tongue for interrupting him. Instead he claps, amused and happy. “Oh, finally some good advice around here” He says, patting Aemond’s back. “Good cunts around here”

Once he leaves, you turn to see Aemond. His jaw clenched, and biting his lower lip. You are a bit shy to keep kissing his body, as his hand leaves your hair. He seems to immerse himself in his thoughts.

You accommodate, looking up to him as you leave a shy kiss on his breastbone. 

“Do you wanna carry on, my prince?”

He blinks, slowly. You can see how the sapphire is brighter with the candle lights, and you hesitate if he wants to keep going. 

“Get on fours” he murmurs, not in the mood for more. You notice, a bit taken aback. But who are you to disobey? You are a whore, paid to do whatever your master wants. 

The position is rather familiar to you, as your knees touch the mattress and you slide your body forward to lean on your elbows, and you feel the weight of his body as he moves in the mattress, behind you.

You breathe in for a moment. King Aegon had partially killed the mood, but it didn’ stop your arousal for Aemond Targaryen. He was divine, and so was pleasuring him. You would follow him around, like a dog, always available when he needs you to pleasure him. And however he wants, you’d agree.

You feel his hands on your thighs, and his thumbs moving your folds as if trying to know your body by his hands. 

Sighing softly, your back is arching, relaxing more and more as you feel his heavy gaze on your body. You gasp a bit when you feel the tip of his cock passing through your wet folds, as if gaining the arousal back from it. You hear his groan, delighted as he pushes his hips quietly, passing his cock through your wetness like this. 

He doesn’t waste much time slipping his cock in, and your choked cries as he forces his way in, makes him know that perhaps you were not as experienced as other whores. He looks at you for a moment, cunt fluttering around his cock. 

“Oh gods…” you moan as you feel his hands on your hips, as his cock starts thrusting in and out of you.

Whimpers and moans fall from your mouth, as he fucks you. The genuine sound of your pleasure delights him further, fueling his desire for you as he fucks you deeply. The wetter you get, the rougher he gets. 

“Fucking- whore” he says through gritted teeth, and you feel your head blushing red with humiliation and arousal as he crudely say those words. 

“Y-Yes, my prince, u-use me…” your soft voice came as weak, breathlessly as your body bounces with each hard thrust he gives on you. 

It’s a delight to feel him like this, as you feel him slapping you ass. You bite your lower lip to stifle a moan, and grip on the bedsheets a bit more.

“Greedy whore” he murmurs, looking at you “You are drooling like a maiden would” 

Her body burns with shame at being called a greedy whore, but it only serves to make her want him even more.

Prince Aemond turns you on your back, as if something… feral woken up inside him. Animalistic and primal. You couldn’t know what, but it happened and the gods knew you were enjoying it. 

“Please… don’t stop” were weird words to come out of your mouth. To truthfully beg someone to keep going.

Aemond’s big hands came to slap your tits, and it stings, but more than hurting is making you feel only desire, heat and need. 

Seeing your body bounce as he fucked you, his cock slamming deeper eachtime, did something to him. You could see it, as he had his gaze firm on your breasts, from time to time taking a break to look at your face or your cunt, taking in his cock.

Another slaps on your tits, his hair falls down from his shoulders as his hips keep pounding into you. You see his chest, pure muscle as his abdomen tightens. And as you watched him, he watched you, before leaning in and moving his head to take one of your breasts on his mouth. 

Perhaps it is mere instinct as one of your hands comes to hold his head against your breast, a bad idea when it comes to a prince, but it only serves to fuel his arousal, and his cock is leaking more and more, as his greedy mouth keeps on sucking. 

Slight tears prick her eyes as his cock hits that delightful spot inside her, which many men often miss. But his cock hits it repeatedly, time after time, just to make your cunt clench around his more and more.

“I am going to cum, my prince” your voice comes as whiny, fine tears of arousal streaming on her cheeks, as you look at him, moaning around your breasts, before separating. 

He feels every detail of your orgasm, as the lewd sounds coming out from your mouth,vhow your body slightly trembles and your cunt clenching his cock, trying to pull him into an orgasm as well. He doesn’t miss the way you roll your eyes and bite your lower lip, and how your hips moved around his cock. 

Doesn’t take him much to cum either, as he feels his balls tighten up, as she pushes her hips slowly to meet his last lazy thrusts. He cums inside her, feeling her pussy milking him greedily. 

“Fuck” he groans, breathlessly, as one of his hand is next to your body as he leans, fucking the remains of his orgasm into you.

As the work is done, he pulls out and you take some minutes to gain your breath, looking up at the ceiling and trying to regain your thoughts after being blank from the pleasure.

But he doesn’t leave.

You move your head up, a bit curiously as you don’t feel the mattress lighten up due to the missing of his weight. He is still here, leaning back on the pillows as he pants a bit.

So he isn’t the type that disappears after fucking. 

You reincorporate, sitting up on the bed, in front of him as he has one eye closed. You suppose his missing eye, and the damage on it prevents him from closing his eye around the sapphire, and you find it a delightful detail of him. 

“You can stay as long as you want” you murmur. Perhaps he doesn’t want to go back to the castle, to the cruelty of the king. You are not one to know, but you saw how crude the King was. 

“Hm” his hum is the only sound he emits. 

“And… you can still request more things, if you desire so” you add, sitting by his side. “Anything, my prince” 

He knows of your lower status, because it is obvious. Calling him ‘my prince’ or Aegon ‘my King’ as the lowborns do. He looks at you, curiously.

“Very well then” he murmurs, laying back on the pillows, with you at his side. He is afraid of asking for comfort, of seeing Aegon walk in again and mock him more. 

He is different, you sense. In a way, he isn’t like the king, groping whores at his own delight, fucking them as if nothing, just to go on to the next one. 

Prince Aemond might fake it otherwise, but he is not like that. 

“Was it good?” It’s his voice. “I don’t have time for lies, girl. So don’t waste my time”

You turn your head to look at him. He seems tense still, his hands are on his knees as he is sitting, and you say the truth.

“It was the best I’ve ever had, my prince”

If it is a clear truth or a dirty lie, he doesn’t share his appreciation. He cuddles after some time next to you, and you open your arm to him. 

The needs of a prince are the work of a whore.

[motherismotheringggg]

rhythm & heat

summary: you and nicholas are co-stars in a fun and innocent PR relationship, the chemistry was already there so it just feels natural but something shifts when you, him and cast go out.

type: fem! reader x nicholas (i tried add some of Nicholas’ POV per my friend’s suggestion, it’ll be in red to stand out)

tags/warnings: 18+, fingering, oral (m! receiving), unprotected sex (wrap your willy yall) and creampie

author’s note: i’m having sooooo much fun writing again so thanks to everyone who’s been encouraging me to do it. i used to write in college and now that im 27 (almost 28 in january) it’s good to get back into it. i wanted to do something while im working on slow burn pt. 3 so i hope yall like it!!!!

🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩

The bass pulsed through the club, sending ripples of heat and sound through the packed dance floor. Neon lights flickered overhead, casting an electric glow over the scene as bodies moved in sync with the music. The air was thick with anticipation, the kind that made everyone buzz with energy, like something wild could happen at any moment.

You and your co-star, Nicholas Chavez, were out celebrating the wrap of the second season—a well-deserved break after months of filming. The first season had been a hit, with fans and critics alike praising your performances and the chemistry you brought to your characters. And of course, that chemistry hadn’t gone unnoticed. Rumors about the two of you had been swirling since the first season, with fans speculating about what might be going on off-camera.

And they weren’t completely off. Your and Nicholas’s teams had decided that hinting at a romance would be the perfect, harmless way to build buzz for the next season. You weren’t usually one for gimmicks, but you both thought it’d be fun, and honestly, with the chemistry you two shared on screen, the idea didn’t feel far-fetched. Playing at “dating” off-screen just felt natural.

There were moments on set where the boundary between acting and reality seemed to blur. In one particularly intense scene, you and Nicholas’s character finished having sex and his hands roamed in a way that made sense for the character but caught you off guard, you leaned in to commit to the scene but you remember leaving the set that day with your heart fluttering.

Off set, at interviews and press events, the playful banter you shared made the rumors almost impossible to deny. During one red carpet appearance, when a reporter asked what Nicholas liked best about working with you, he leaned close and, in a low voice, said, “She makes me forget we’re acting.” The reporters loved it, and you could feel your cheeks warm under the spotlight.

Even your off-duty moments seemed to fuel the rumors. You remembered the night you and Nicholas went to see Sabrina Carpenter in concert and to avoid the crowds, you were escorted through hidden elevators in the arena. One of the elevators was especially small, so when you were pushed inside with security guards and crew, space was tight. Somehow, you ended up in the back corner, pressed chest to chest with Nicholas, his arm slipping around your waist to pull you closer.

When you joked about it later, he laughed, claiming he was just “making room” for everyone. But you couldn’t ignore the way his hand lingered at your waist during the two-minute ride—or how, when you shifted to get more comfortable, you felt his hardness through his jeans.

There were countless other moments and with another press run coming up, it just felt like you were still both “in character” all the time but for tonight, you just wanted to dance, let loose, and get ready for another thrilling media cycle. You, Nicholas and a few costars decided to go out to a boiler room club in the city. None of you had planned on playing into the rumors tonight, but as the crowd grew, Nicholas slipped into “boyfriend” mode without a second thought. His hand found your waist, guiding you through the crowd; he held your hand, lingered close, and let his touches drift to intimate places whenever you danced or laughed together.

The night felt electric. Drinks flowed freely, adding a warm edge to the pulsing bass that reverberated through the walls and floor. Your group had claimed a private section overlooking the dance floor, with a perfect view of the swirling neon lights below. Fans would catch glimpses of you and the cast, looking up with wide smiles, waving, and cheering to show their love. Some even made heart shapes with their hands or mouthed “We love you” as they danced. Every now and then, Nicholas would slide his arm around your waist, pulling you close for a quick fan photo or to lean in as he spoke over the music, his breath grazing your ear.

Nicholas could hardly keep his eyes off you. Even in the chaos of the club, you stood out—like a spark in the dark, drawing him in. The energy around you, the way you moved, the way you threw back your head to laugh at something your friend said… it made his chest feel tight. He’d been watching you for a while now, unable to shake the feeling that tonight was different.

At first, it was all casual, harmless fun. But as the night wore on and the drinks kept coming, you couldn’t help but notice a shift. Nicholas’s touches lingered a little longer, his fingers resting at your waist even when the picture was done or the conversation had shifted. The way he looked at you changed too—his gaze softened, his words slower, and his attention focused entirely on you, despite the crowd around you both.

When the group began to dance, he stayed close, his hand brushing yours, fingers grazing along your arm, almost as if testing the waters. As the music thumped, he moved nearer, his chest pressing lightly against your back, his hand slipping down to rest at your hip. Every touch, every shared laugh, felt charged, and you could feel the tension building in each small gesture. You’d been close to him before, but this was different—the alcohol, the music, the night itself seemed to bring out something more raw.

His thoughts became a blur of want, fueled by the subtle way your lips parted as you looked up at him. The pull was irresistible, drawing him closer as he traced his fingers along the small of your back, letting his thumb graze your hip in a possessive but tender gesture. He was intoxicated, not just by the alcohol but by you, by the way you felt so effortlessly right in his arms.

As you danced, his heartbeat quickened, his breaths shallow and erratic. He wondered if you knew what you were doing to him—how just being close to you made it feel impossible to think straight. Every touch, every whisper, was like fuel to a fire that had been smoldering since the moment he’d met you. He couldn't ignore it any longer, the way you’d somehow slipped beneath his skin. He wanted all of you—the quick wit, the mischievous grin, the soft vulnerability he saw in your eyes in quieter moments on set. And tonight, he wanted you in a way that left no room for pretense or careful boundaries.

You two were dancing face to face, the music vibrating through your chest as you moved in sync. Nicholas leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear, the warmth of his breath sending a jolt of heat through your body. His voice was low and smooth, a touch playful, as he whispered, “How’s my girl feeling tonight?”

His hands slid down to your waist, pulling you in closer, pressing your bodies together as if there was any space left between you two. You could feel the solid muscle of his chest against yours, the strength in his arms as they wrapped around you, grounding you in the moment. The heat of his touch lingered where his fingers gently grazed the curve of your waist, sending a wave of electricity through your skin.

You were attracted to Nicholas, no doubt about it. Up close, he was all intense, striking features that seemed made for this low, pulsing light. His deep-set brown eyes held a mischievous spark, the kind that always kept you guessing and a little on edge, even when the cameras weren’t rolling. His jawline was sharp, almost sculpted, and as he looked down at you, the soft stubble along it caught the neon glow, adding an edge to his otherwise boyish charm.

As you looked up, his tousled dark hair fell a bit across his forehead, framing his face in a way that softened his piercing gaze. His lips, full and inviting, curled into a subtle smirk as he looked at you, as though he knew exactly what kind of effect he had. You felt his fingers shift at your waist, his thumb tracing small, almost hypnotic circles against your hip, bringing a flush to your skin.

Despite the undeniable attraction, you hesitated to lean into whatever Nicholas was offering. Playing “relationship” was fun, but you knew getting involved with a co-star was a risky move. You flashed him a playful smirk, your voice teasing as you responded, “Your co-star is doing fine.” You took a small step back, creating just enough space to break the intensity between you two. But it wasn’t enough to stop the flirtation—you secretly hoped he’d pull you right back in.

He wasn’t having any of it. “Stop playing with me,” Nicholas groaned, his voice taking on that low, almost dangerous tone you couldn’t ignore. He leaned back down, his face just inches from yours, his breath hot against your skin. “You know I want you.”

His words sent a thrill coursing through you, the heat of his breath making your pulse race. Despite the hesitation, you could feel your body betraying you, urging you to close the space between you two again. His head lingered by your ear, his lips brushing against your skin, just barely a touch, sending a spark through you. Before you could pull back, his lips grazed the sensitive spot near your neck, planting soft, lingering “innocent” kisses.

The kisses were feather-light, almost teasing, yet each one felt like a jolt of electricity. They were gentle but purposeful, just enough to make your knees weaken and your womanhood tremble. His closeness, the warmth of his skin against yours, was intoxicating, and with every soft kiss, you found yourself craving more.

With a few sharp breaths and low moans, he knew he had you. The sound of his name on your lips, barely above a whisper, was all the confirmation he needed. You tilted your head to the side, offering him your neck, giving him full access to your skin. His hands, on your waist, pulling you even closer, his body flush against yours.

He didn’t hold back. His lips moved with confidence now, kissing the delicate curve of your neck with more urgency. Each kiss was deeper and more insistent, the pressure of his mouth leaving a trail of heat and need in its wake. His tongue darted out, tracing the sensitive skin beneath your ear, sending a shiver of desire straight through your body.

You could feel him smiling against your skin, sensing the way your body responded to his touch—how you instinctively leaned into him, drawn to the heat between you. His hands, bold and sure, roamed lower, the pads of his fingers grazing the curve of your back, sending a shiver of pleasure through you. The sensation was soft at first but quickly turned more intense, his touch growing bolder, more confident with each passing second. Every moment between you two felt like a slow burn, the anticipation building as his lips trailed over the sensitive skin of your neck, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake.

Then, when he shifted, you felt it—his hardness brushing against your thigh. The contact sent a wave of heat straight through you, an electric shock that heightened every nerve in your body. It was enough to make your pulse race, enough to make you realize how much you wanted him in that moment.

Without thinking, you reached down, your fingers gently grazing over the fabric of his pants, feeling the outline of him. The pressure of his body against yours, the growing heat between you two, made you want more—made you want to make him feel just as desperate for you as you felt for him.

You could feel the quickening of his breath, the way his chest rose and fell against yours. A low groan rumbled from his throat as you continued to trace his length, every brush of your fingers sending a thrill through both of you. His hands tightened around your waist, pulling you even closer, as though he couldn’t get enough of you either.

Without another moment passing, Nicholas grabbed your hand, his fingers tight around yours, pulling you through the crowded space. He moved with purpose, guiding you down the secret hallway the cast used to get into the club, away from the prying eyes and flashing lights. Each step seemed to quicken the pulse between you, the anticipation building with every turn. You felt his grip firm on your hand, but also the heat radiating off him, as though he couldn't wait any longer.

With just a few more steps, you found yourselves in the private dead-end hallway. It was dim, secluded—perfectly private. Before you could process what was happening, Nicholas had you pressed up against the cold wall, his body pinning you in place. The urgency in his movements left no room for hesitation as he slammed his lips onto yours, the kiss fierce, demanding. His mouth claimed yours with a hunger that mirrored your own, lips moving against each other as if he couldn’t get enough.

His hands weren’t idle either. One moved to your waist, gripping you tightly as if to keep you exactly where he wanted you, while the other traveled lower, finding its way to the waistband of your panties. His touch was deliberate and heated, and in an instant, his hand slipped beneath the fabric. His fingers brushed the sensitive skin just above them, the contact sending a shock of heat straight through you.

You gasped into his mouth, the electricity of his touch overwhelming, making every part of you ache for more. His fingers continued to tease, moving with slow, deliberate pressure, testing the limits of your restraint. He continued to rub and massage your sweet spot while you moaned and squirmed against his kiss. He pulled away just enough to watch you under his power.

From his vantage, you were a vision—utterly captivating in every response. He loved the way your eyes fluttered closed, only to open halfway, trying to find his gaze but faltering under the intense pleasure he was giving you. The way your teeth sank into your lip, trying to hold back the sounds you couldn’t suppress, only spurred him on. Each flick of his fingers brought a fresh wave of moans and whines, soft and breathy, laced with his name in barely-contained pleas. Hearing you beg him to take things further, to lose himself with you completely, made him feel invincible. He knew he had you right where he wanted, and he was savoring every moment.

You planted one last, deep kiss on his lips before sinking to your knees in front of him, never breaking eye contact. Nicholas’ gaze darkened, his breath catching slightly as he watched you with a mixture of anticipation and hunger. Your hands moved with urgency, unbuckling his belt and undoing his pants, your fingers grazing over the heat radiating from his body. As you freed him, he let out a soft groan, his gaze fixed on you, filled with both awe and impatience.

His hands instinctively found their way to your hair, tangling in it gently as you looked up at him, the connection between you electric and unspoken. The way he was watching you—intense, with a mix of excitement and restraint—made your pulse race. His pupils were dilated, his breathing uneven, and you could see the anticipation building in his expression as he waited, every part of him attuned to your next move.

As you leaned closer, he tightened his grip, his fingers brushing against your scalp, guiding you but letting you set the pace. You started slow, savoring every moment, every reaction, feeling his muscles tense and hearing his breaths turn to low, needy moans. His chest rose and fell heavily as he fought to keep control, his head tilting back slightly as he surrendered to your touch, murmuring your name in a rough, breathy tone that only made you want him more.

Every time you paused to swirl your tongue around his tip, Nicholas' whole body tensed, his breathing turning shallow as he let out a low, drawn-out hiss. The sound of your name on his lips, mixed with whispered curses, filled the air. He couldn’t help himself, alternating between breathless moans and deep, husky praises. “God, you’re such a good girl,” he murmured, his voice filled with a raw, admiring intensity. “You look so beautiful taking me like this.”

With each word, his grip in your hair tightened just enough to keep you where he wanted. His hands were steady, yet you could feel the slight tremor in his fingers as his need for you grew. Finally, he held your head in both hands, his gaze locked on yours, guiding you with a slow, deliberate motion. He pushed himself deeper, filling your mouth as his hips rocked in rhythm, pressing him to the back of your throat. The sounds escaping him were desperate yet controlled, each ragged breath carrying his satisfaction.

“Look at me, baby,” he whispered, his voice dropping to a breathy, gruff murmur, thick with desire. “Let me see those pretty eyes.” His gaze was commanding yet filled with an undeniable admiration, and as you met his eyes, he let out a deep, shuddering breath, fully captivated by the sight of you. The connection between you was intense, wordlessly conveying his appreciation for everything you were giving him, every shiver and sigh pulling him closer to the edge.

Your throat tightened slightly as you tried to take all of him, a small gag escaping despite your best efforts. Nicholas chuckled softly, a low, satisfied sound, and his hand moved to gently tap your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin with a subtle affection that made your heart race. “That’s my girl,” he murmured, pride evident in his tone.

His hands slid down to your shoulders, pulling you up to meet him, and the moment your lips touched, he captured you in a deep, consuming kiss. It was passionate, full of hunger and appreciation, and he groaned against your mouth, relishing in the taste of you. He leaned his forehead against yours, his eyes filled with a soft, smoldering intensity. “You did so good, baby,” he whispered, his voice rough yet tender. “You looked so perfect, taking me in… just like I always knew you could.”

Each word sent a wave of warmth through you, and his hands stayed on your hips, grounding you, his gaze never straying from yours. He ran a thumb over your bottom lip, still swollen from your efforts, his gaze filled with both desire and genuine admiration as he traced your features, savoring every moment and every breath shared between you.

Nicholas could feel the anticipation radiating off you, your body responding to his every touch and move. He knew just how much you wanted him, and he wanted to give you everything you craved. With deliberate slowness, he turned you around, pressing you gently forward. His hands slid up your thighs as he lifted the hem of your dress, savoring the soft, heated skin beneath. In one fluid motion, he pulled down your panties, his lips still trailing along your neck and shoulders, leaving a trail of warm, lingering kisses that made your breath quicken. He groaned into your ear, his voice low and thick with desire, reveling in the way your back arched, your body silently pleading for more.

“I wanna make you feel so good,” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. His hands roamed over your hips as he positioned himself behind you, letting his tip trace over your folds, teasing you until you were trembling in his grasp. The first sensation of him entering you made your breath catch, a shudder running through both of you as he filled you, slow and deep. You instinctively moved in sync, bodies finding a perfect rhythm, every thrust sending a wave of pleasure through you.

Nicholas buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath coming in rough, heated gasps as he lost himself in the moment, savoring every pulse and movement of your body against his. You reached back, threading your fingers into his hair, giving it a gentle tug, and he let out a breathless whimper—a sound that only made you ache for him more. His need to be in control fueled you, but there was something thrilling in the way he let you pull him back, every now and then, giving you the slightest taste of control.

You guided one of his hands from your hip, pressing it down between your legs. He understood immediately, his fingers finding and massaging that sensitive spot, adding another layer of intensity to your connection. He quickly obliged, his touch skilled and deliberate, and you felt yourself unraveling under the dual sensations, every nerve heightened, every thought fading into pure, unfiltered bliss.

Nicholas’s pace quickened, and with every movement, he brought an intensity that made you lose yourself further with each second. His hands roamed your body, seeking out every place that could make you unravel under his touch. One moment he’d slap your ass, and in the next, his fingers wrapped around your neck, adding a delicious pressure that only heightened the sensations. He reached between your legs, his fingers brushing against your heat, before gently tilting your head, exposing more of your neck so he could plant hungry, open-mouthed kisses there. The air around you both grew hotter, more electric, and you could feel that familiar pressure building, bringing you both to the brink.

He leaned into your ear, his voice thick with need, a hint of desperation woven into it. “I want to cum for you, baby,” he breathed. “Tell me how bad you want it.”

Your voice came out in a shaky whisper, overcome by the sensations he was giving you. “Let’s do it together. I’m so close,” you pleaded, feeling yourself hovering right at the edge. His thrusts stayed steady but powerful, his head buried against your neck, breaths hitching and moans deepening. His grip on your hips tightened, guiding your body to match his rhythm perfectly, every stroke hitting deeper, more intense.

Nicholas, always the performer, could feel just how close you were, but he wanted to hear it. His voice was a low, teasing growl. “Tell me how much you want me, baby,” he commanded. “Tell me how good this feels… tell me who you belong to.” With each demand, his movements became more forceful, every stroke making you lose control a bit more.

He was close too, a raw intensity filling each thrust, and just before the finish, he grabbed a handful of your hair, pulling your head back to make sure he felt every shudder of your response.

“Are you ready, baby?” he gasped, his tone shaky as he was right on the edge. You tried to say his name, but the feeling was so intense, it came out as a breathless, pleading sound. You nodded, barely able to form words as your body responded, every nerve lit up as you both finally reached your climax.

As he spilled into you, the sensation sent waves of warmth through your entire body, making you moan out, your voice just barely above a whisper but full of satisfaction. Your body shuddered, every nerve still singing from the overwhelming release.

Even as you tried to catch your breath, he gave you a few more slow, teasing thrusts, drawing out every last tremor until you were completely undone. Each lingering movement kept you in the moment, his body still pressed firmly against yours, leaving you weak and trembling beneath him.

A satisfied smirk played across his lips as he felt you react, your legs shaking as his hands traveled slowly up your sides, grounding you through the aftershocks. He murmured in your ear, his voice low and full of pride, "You’re so fucking hot when you cum...just like I always imagined" His fingers traced gentle circles along your waist, savoring how soft you felt under his touch.

With a final, breathless sigh, you turned to face him, pressing your forehead to his as he caught his breath, his thumb grazing softly over your cheek.You both stayed like that, basking in the warmth between you, as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close, leaving soft kisses along your shoulder and neck, his way of savoring every last moment.

[heian-era-housewife]

Sex, Smut, & Scuttlebutt

Lately I've seen a growing number of virgins, "new-cummers", and even seasoned sex vets voicing their concerns or frustrations with the unrealistic portrayal of sex within smut. Adult fictions are so fun to read and write and even more fun to act out in real life (with a trusted partner), but they are fiction. Quite often exaggeratedly so and in no way representative of what really goes on behind closed doors, or open (you do you babes).

Nevertheless these concerns and frustrations are real, they are valid, and they deserve to be acknowledged. And so, without further ado, I present to you the very real, very raw, and sometimes very unsexy side of sex.

(Though tbh nothing Ryomen Sukuna does could ever be categorized as 'unsexy')

Love to you all, no matter your experience 😘

Pairings | Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Choso, Higuruma, Toji, and of course Sukuna 💕

Content | mdni, smut, fem!reader x jjk men, piv, oral (both f-to-m and vice versa), pubes, blood, sex on period, first time, Toji eats a worm. It's fine. Don't worry about it.

Word Count | 3.3k

Gojo:

White Hair...Everywhere

You've been ignoring it for a while now. Well...trying to anyway. The faint tickle on the back of your tongue has grown into a sharp pinprick that jabs at your throat with each bob of your head. It's uncomfortable, it's distracting, and worst of all it is threatening to trigger your gag reflex.

Gojo gasps and whimpers, long fingers running through your hair, pulling you toward him as he edges closer to his climax. It's all you can do to focus on the task at hand when his sudden thrusts render the job impossible. You gag and sputter against the source of your irritation, eyes streaming as you pull away from his hungry cock. 

Confusion and poorly concealed dissapointment in his words of longing barely register as you wretch, two of your own fingers stuffed to the back of your throat. 

You turn to meet his eyes with yours still streaming as you reveal the cause for disruption. With your middle and index finger you pull a long, coiled, pure white hair from deep within your throat. 

"I think this belongs to you," you tease, wiping drool from your chin and flicking the stray pube his direction.

"Oof. My bad," he squirms, one hand sheepishly rubbing against his undercut. 

"Shall we resume?" You offer with a playful smile, making a show of patting away his snowy bristles before taking his twitching length back into your mouth.

"Phewww!" He whistled. "I thought for a second sexy time was over!"

"It wiw be ith you don' shu-up," you mocked, mouth full and voice muffled. You reached a hand around to give one of his ass cheeks an impish squeaze for good measure. Gojo laughed playfully before falling back into a steady rythm of whines and whimpers.

Geto:

Welcome to the Jungle

Unwaivering confidence was one of the things you loved so much about Suguru Geto. On a scale of 1-10 his sex appeal was an 11 and you were about to find out for yourself exactly why he was so damn self-assured.

You, on the other hand, couldn't help but obsess over all your flaws and imperfections. Your outfits, those stretch marks, and was that =sniff, sniff= body odor?? 

But this was not the time to get lost in insecurity because you were perched pretty as a peach on his apartment sofa while Suguru stood, hastening to undo his belt, never once relinquishing that calm and cocky smile.

You gazed at him loftily, cheeks growing flushed, heart pounding in your ears. Your groin ached with longing as he stripped down to plain black boxer briefs and reached forward to help you down to bra and panties. Nerves and excitement churned in your core creating a volitile compound that set your heart ablaze. It was all too good to be real.

Finally, he guided your hands toward his own hips, placing them on the hem of his boxers, inviting you to remove his final garment.

Your brain buzzed with electric anticipation as you pulled downward, revealing that which, until this moment, you had only imagined. 

And there it was. 

And there you were.

Your buzzing brain cutting to standby as static filled your senses and every decision you'd ever made leading to this exact point in time sent you into a hurling spiral of doubt and regret.

Because Geto had shaved.

And you had not. 

Not now...not ever. Frankly, it hadn't even occured to you before. 

Insecurities came flooding in causing you to lose yourself entirely until the gentle touch of his strong hand on your pantyline dragged you forcefully back to your grim reality.

"NO!" You shrieked, pulling frantically from his reach. 

"Oh! Have I hurt you?" He asked with concern as you wished with every fibre of your being for a quick and painless death. 

"It's just...you're so pretty," you breathed, lip almost trembling as you spoke.

"I'm glad you think so," he said, cocky little smile returning to his perfect playboy face.

"And I'm...well..." you slipped off your own panties awkwardly, revealing a lush and uncut jungle, knowing you were already past the point of no return.

"You're.....?" Suguru prompted.

"I'm...you know...this!" You gestured to your unkempt garden.

"You're...female?" He finished, confused.

"NO!" He was missing the point. "I'm a gross unshaven mess! And you're...what? The centerfold of next month's Playgirl?"

Geto laughed, much louder than you expected, snorting as he did so. "That's what you're worried about??"

"That and a million other things...yeah!" You sulked, tears brimming your lashes as you slumped, defeated against the sofa.

"Come here," he said, pulling you close, forgetting entirely about his unclothed state. "I think you're sexy just the way you are. And, if I'm being honest, shaving is a real pain in the ass anyway."

Giggling to yourself, you watched as his impressive length grew soft and diminished as his arousal shifted to concern for you. 

"Hey!" He objected, throwing a pillow over his lap. "He was just worried about you, give him a minute," he teased.

Both of you laughed as you snuggled on the couch together, sharing doubts and insecurities, reassuring one another, and settling in for a long night. One full of love making that was sure to be genuine, sometimes awkward, but far better than any magazine.

Nanami:

Corporate Cock Block

Nanami was pent up. Not only had he been called on a particularly large number of missions this week, he'd been forced into overtime nearly every day. Now that he was home, he was desperately looking forward to nothing more than dissolving in your arms and seeing where the night might take you both.

Needless to say, he was more than thrilled when you suggested skipping dinner and going straight for dessert. That's right. You were pretty pent up yourself. And who was he to deny his pretty and incredibly patient wife what she needed?

"Thank you-hah-for being so-mhh-understanding this-hahhh-week", he breathed through passionate kisses, slipping off his suspenders and tossing his goggles to the side.

Movements punctuated by more steamy kisses, you helped him take off his tie and belt while he worked his fingers up and under your shirt to skillfully unsnap your bra.

He backed you down the hall and together you fell onto the bed, both panting in excitement as clothing fell hastily to the floor.

Just then, the phone rang. His phone. Illuminated harshly against the evening's fading light revealing none other than Satoru Gojo as the caller. Nanami went rigid.

"Hun," you said softly, "it's okay if you need to-"

"No." He asserted, cutting you off. "He's had enough of my time. I'm off the clock and I'm spending this evening with my wife."

The seriousness in his tone was all you needed to know it was case closed, so as he let it go to voicemail, the two of you resumed your game of lips and hands.

Time passed, Nanami was absolutely aching for you, and you were practically trembling in anticipation. As he lined himself up, you closed your eyes ready to melt at the feeling of him entering your throbbing core. And that's when it happened. Again. The name "Satoru Gojo" shone through the darkness as Nanami's phone lit up your room.

"I'm going to kill him," Nanami said calmly, head hanging in frustration as he imagined all the ways he could cleave his obnoxious coworker in a perfect 7:3 ratio.

"Kento..." you whispered, bringing him back to reality. "I really don't mind if you need to-"

"Absolutely not! This is our time. You and me."

"But what if he needs-"

"There is nothing he could need from me that is more important than what's right in front of me," voice dripping with sincerity.

"I love you, Ken."

"I love you too. Truly," he replied. "Shall we?"

Picking up where you left off, he gave himself a few quick strokes before plunging deep into your core. Tension and relief unraveling as he worked his strong hips passionately between your shaking legs.

***

As the love making continued, a new tension was building within both of you and Nanami could feel himself reaching his climax, breaths coming sharp and shallow as he felt his nearing release.

"Im so close," He breathed.

"Me too, baby," you gasped.

And then...

=RINGGGGGG=

Nanami cracked.

Snapping up his phone while pounding the ever-loving life out of you, you heard his voice loud and hostile as he snarled into the speaker.

"Satoru Gojo, so help me God I have half a mind to cut you down where you stand. Do you know how long I've waited to FUCK my WIFE?! How many nights this week I had to give up SEX with HER just to follow your sorry ass around chasing curses and cleaning up the FILTH of this city?! I was about to give her one SPECIAL GRADE, MIND-BLOWING ORGASM before you-" he stopped thrusting, blood draining from his face, feral sneer dropping into a hollowed out look of utter humilation.

"Principal Yaga I- of course, sir, I'm so sorry...Yes..yes..right away. I understand. Again, I'm so- no of course not. I appreciate your discretion...I'll see you soon...bye."

Your eyes widened in horror as you listened to his conversation, unsure which end was worse.

"I..uh...I have to go. I'm needed at the school," he muttered sheepishly, unable to meet your shocked gaze.

"Yeah, I gathered that," you said with a nervous laugh.

You helped him get dressed, giving him a tight hug and wiping the beading sweat off his brow as he stumbled back out the door.

"Kento!" You called as he headed in the direction of the school. He turned to look at you, defeat written in his tired features. "Come home safe, okay?"

"Of course, love," he rasped, weakly.

"You still owe me that 'special grade, mind-blowing orgasm'," you teased with a wink.

Shaking his head, you heard him laugh as he hurried toward his next mission.

Higuruma:

Erection Overruled!

Hiromi's long week has finally drawn to an end and as your tired and more-than-likely dishevelled man makes his way home to slump into his favorite chair and fall asleep, you want to make sure he gets to finish the week out properly. You've spent the afternoon hard at work yourself, cleaning up, picking just the right music, and slinking in to that silky little black robe you know he loves slipping you out of.

The mood is set, candles are lit, and as if on cue Higuruma stumbles in through the front door, dropping his briefcase, and sagging languidly into his favorite chair. You approach from behind, running fingers through his dark and unkempt hair, tipping his head back with a provocative "Welcome home," allowing him to savor the view.

Experience tells him there's not a thing beneath that robe and his eyes grow wide and hungry as he scrambles to his knees, facing backward in his chair to take you in. He burries his nose against you as he presses passionate kisses to your collarbones, moving to nip at your neck, trailing his tongue upward and landing just below your earlobe before whispering , "I've waited all week for this."

One very steamy makeout session later, you find yourselves in the bedroom, working quickly to remove each other's clothing, air thick with ravenous longing. But as you slip him out of his trousers taking his not even half-hard cock into your loving hands, things start to feel a bit off.

Nothing a few good strokes can't fix, you think to yourself, stealing a downward glance at his would-be errection-  flaccid, but hopeful.

~

Some time later there's still little change in terms of rigidity and you notice the exhaustion building behind his determined features. Knowing his pride is at stake, you start to wonder if it might just be best to let your tired man rest and resume love making another time. Opting for a mix of tact and humor, you make the judgement call.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the court, I move to postpone today's proceedings until the defendant can get some well-deserved and very much needed rest."

Hiromi's eyes snap open. "Objection!" He barks automatically, surprising himself.

"Overruled!" You reply, tapping his tip once against his tummy as though holding a gavel. 

A moment of silence as you stare at each other seriosuly and then...

"PFFFTTT!" You both burst out laughing at the ridiculous scene. He pulls you in for more kisses and you lay together wiping tears from your eyes as the laughter continues. 

Turning on his side he offers, "Motion to reconvene tomorrow morning?"

"Motion granted!"

More laughter. A heavy sigh and then, "Thanks for understanding," he says.

"Impartiality is my job, afterall," you continue the act. 

Pulling your head to his chest he scruffles your hair until you fight him off, giggling. 

This isn't the first and probably won't be the last time your romantic pursuits as a couple are thwarted by exhaustion, but you know that with a little patience and a good night's sleep he'll be a different man come morning, when your courtship is back in session.

Choso:

Shark Week 

Choso's not just new to sex. He's new to life itself. Loving him brings you the unique opportunity of experiencing the world for the very first time through his eyes. 

The eldest of his brothers, he's already learned so much, but he still relies on you to guide him through his many firsts as both a lover and a mentor for all of life's unexpected moments- the good, the bad, and the painfully awkward. 

That is why, when you hear a sharp, panicked little gasp as he pulls out of you, dick still twitching from his orgasm just moments before, you suspect you are in for another brand new encounter.

"What's a'matter Cho?"

"Uhm..." He swallows hard, eyes trained downward. "It's...it's not there."

"What's not there?" You question, sitting up against your elbows trying to glimpse whatever it is he's staring at.

"The condom," He says weakly, mouth going dry. "It's just gone!"

"Ohh!" You reach a knowing hand between your legs. "It probably just came off inside me."

"Is that bad?!" He asks, voice thick with worry.

"Not necessarily. You can probably just pull it out if it's right there."

He slides two hesitant fingers over your entrance, feeling for the rubbery traitor that's caused him such distress. 

"Oh! I found it!" He sighs, relieved, pulling it gently from your core.

"See? Nothing to worry abou-"

"OH NO!" He cries, forcing you to sit up in alarm.

"What's wrong? Is it ripped?"

"You're bleeding! There's-" He looks as though he might pass out. "There's so much!"

"What?! I-" Realzation hits you as he holds up the stretched out condom, slick with glossy crimson. Feeling between your legs, you pull your hand away, stringy and viscous from a mix of blood and fresh arousal. 

"Oh Cho I'm sorry. I think I started my-"

"I can't believe I hurt you! I thought I was being gentle! Maybe it's my cursed technique?? No...that can't-" 

"Cho I-"

"I can fix it! Hang on let me just-"

"Choso!" He pauses his string of frantic babble to look at you. Deep lines etched across his troubled face. "Cho, I think I just started my period," You say, reaching your other hand to comfort your worried man.

"Oh. You mean 'shark week'?"

You laugh as he recalls the nickname you taught him for that notorious time of the month. "Yes hun, shark week."

"Was it...because of me?" He asks, eyes brimming with shame and guilt.

"No, my love!" You giggle at his innocence. "Just a coincidence. I'm sorry I scared you!"

A wave of relief washed over him as he clutched his chest, watching you get up and head toward the bathroom. 

"I thought maybe I broke you somehow..."

"I know, sweet boy," You called from the hall. "You did nothing wrong. But when I come back we're going to cuddle like there's no tomorrow!"

"That....sounds nice" he said with a sigh, collapsing backward on the bed, brain tired and foggy from the day's latest lesson. 

"Wait!" He called, suddenly excited. "Does this mean chocolate ice cream and movie night??"

"You really are a quick study!" You praise.

Running to grab the ice cream he calls, "I think I can get used to shark week!"

Toji:

Three's a Crowd

Toji is a lone wolf. An elusive rogue agent. He holds everyone at arm's distance, including you. That is...until recently, anyway.

What started as casual hookups in seedy bars and late-night love hotels, hell even the back of a cab once (actually maybe twice...you were rather drunk), has turned into pseudo dates and sober conversation. To be honest, you've fallen pretty hard for your man of mystery and the last thing you want to do is scare him off now. That's why, when he finally invites you to his place for the first time, you're determined not to blow it.

"It's not much, but it's home." He says, leading you through the front door of a shabby back-alley apartment. Despite his somewhat delinquent nature, his apartment is well-kept and the made-up bed you spot through an open door near the back looks far more inviting than the sleazy moth-eaten matresses and dive bar sofas where you've been spending your less-than-romantic moments.

Grabbing his hand, you practically drag him back there, excited to see where he lays his head at night, smell the cologne on his sheets. He stumbles behind, a goofy yet seductive grin stretching the scar on the corner of his lips that you're just dying to taste.

As you step into the darkened bedroom, a small sound grabs your attention. Atop the dresser something is breathing- sputtering. You pause, trying to get a look at the noise's source, realizing Toji must have a pet. Your heart skips as you imagine this macho miscreant returning home to a small, soft animal for whom he shares a rare bit of affection. Fucking adorable.

The creature, appearing only as a shapeless mound at first (is it a cat?) turns to look at you. And that's when you freeze. Because there in his room, peering at you through swollen, squinted eyes, frothy drool dribbling down its pudgy face, is a gigantic....worm???

"Toji!" You gasp, turning back to hide behind the muscular arm you're now grasping for dear life. "What the hell is that thing?!"

"Oh." He says curiously, "You can see it?"

"OF COURSE I CAN SEE IT, WHAT DO YOU MEAN?! THING'S FUCKIN' HUGE!"

"Heh," he chuckles, amused. "It won't hurt ya. C'mere."

Without even another glance at the demonic creature, Toji pushes you against the bed, bringing his large frame down over you, rutting his hips as he feasts hungrily on your neck. You want to lose yourself in the throes of his passion, you really do. But all you can think about is the thing on the dresser. Turning under the weight of Toji's advances to see if it's still there, you find yourself making direct eye contact with the hideous overgrown catarpillar.

You can't believe he's not distracted. Can't believe he hasn't said a single word about the little drooling monster. And as Toji makes quick work of undressing while he hovers over you, you find yourself unable to contain your inner thoughts.

"Toji...it's so...long!" You say, eyeing the thing warily.

"Mm...I know, Doll," he agrees.

"I mean like...it's gigantic!" You mewl covering your eyes in disgust.

"Hah...so I've heard," he admits, slipping off your panties from beneath your skirt.

"And it...I don't know...it looks hungry. Like...it's about to tear me apart..."

"If that's what you want, love," he growls with a forward thrust.

"Seriously, Toji, I don't know if I can do this! It's just so gross!"

"...Gross?" He looks like he's been punched in the gut.

"Yeah! Gross and purple!"

"Purple?!" Pulling out, he stares down at his cock. "Fuck you mean, purple?!" Then, following your gaze he says, "You're not still on about that damn worm, are you??"

"What did you think I was talking about?!"

"Look, if it bothers you that much, I'll get rid of it." Without another word, he gets up from the bed, crosses the room to the dresser, takes the creature in his hands before crunching it down into a tiny ball and swallowing it whole.

"Now are we gonna get freaky or what?" He huffs.

Oh, we are wayyyy past freaky, you think to yourself.

Who the hell was this mysterious man of yours? You're left with more questions than answers. But despite the horror you just witnessed one thing has you smiling...arm's distance or not, you doubt very seriously anything you do could scare him off.

Sukuna:

Thousand-Year-Old Virgin

Sukuna is a hardened, battle-ready, godlike being of prowess and prestige, decorated by time itself. Stranger to no man and no challenge, his many achievements transcend the millenia. He has seen and done things even those with rich and deeply fulfilled lives will never experience.

Let's face it, he's a thousand fucking years old. So that's why, when he mumbled something under his breath, something you thought could only be some type of strange joke, you were too stunned to laugh. And the fact that you didn't is the only reason you're still alive. That, and he's fallen rather profoundly in love with you, but he won't be admitting to that any time soon.

So when he pulls away from your lips to stare sheepishly at his bare feet criss-crossed in front of him before uttering the words you're sure you must have heard wrong, you ask him to please repeat himself.

"I've never done this before..." he gruffs, crossing both sets of arms and averting his gaze to the side with a nose-crinkling sneer.

"Done...what?" You ask, innocently.

"This! All of this!" He barks, waving his arms in frustration.

Your brain is working overtime just to read between the lines. He's acting like it's obvious, but you can't understand which "this" he's referring to.

"I don't get what-"

"SEX OKAY!" He gruffs bitterly. "I've never had sex!"

You just stare. Lips parted slightly as your jaw hangs limp, still unsure you've heard him correctly.

"And would you stop looking at me like that??" He scowls.

"'Kuna, I...I don't know what to say."

"Yeah, well...neither do I," he admits, still avoiding your gaze.

"It's just that you're...a thousand years old...I guess I just figured in that time you would have-"

"I didn't get to where I am by running around like some dog in heat," he retorts. "I spent my time getting stronger, strategizing, honing my cursed technique. Then I was sealed away for a few hundred years. When the hell would I have-"

"I never thought of it like that. But I figured Heian Era and all, the 'King of Curses' must have had concubines, right?"

"Yeah? So? I had a bunch of that old-timey shit!" He spouted. You had to stifle a laugh this time. "Doesn't mean I cared. I was...you know...a little busy conquerring the world?"

It was beginning to sink in. The King of Curses, God of the Heian Era, the Great Ryomen Sukuna sat on a shelf like a minted doll for a thousand years, completely untouched, and you- little modern nobody you- were about to take his "v-card". You felt giddy.

"'Kuna," You began, reaching out to take his face in your hands, compelling him to look at you. He hissed as you did so. "Ryomen. We don't have to do this."

"No, I want-"

"If you really want to, that's fine. Just know that it's going to be messy. Probably a little awkward. Maybe a lot awkward! Heck, I don't even know what to do about the extra set of limbs and...appendages," You laughed, giving his thigh a squeaze. He rolled his eyes. You continued earnestly, "I just want you to know it's okay not to know it all- not to get everything perfect. That's where the trust comes in...and where the memories are made."

He heaved a deep sigh, turning away again as he became lost in thought.

"Hey, Ryo?"

"What, brat?"

"Thanks for waiting for me," you wink.

"Don't flatter yourself," he grumps, a rougey glow tingeing his cheeks.

"Of course not," you smile. Then, eyeing his extra arms you continue. "So I just have one question..."

"Speak."

"Will we need one condom, or two?"

Thank you so much for reading! Likes and reblogs always appreciated, but never expected.

MDNI banner credit to @cafekitsune

Special thanks to @heian-era-househusband for always listening to my stories and for being my trusted partner 💕

[denwritesandcries]

Take a Breath (and kiss me) – T.C

Pairing: tara carpenter x fem!reader

Summary: Your girlfriend Tara gets a little clingy when she realizes you haven't kissed her properly in days.

Word count: 2,0k

Content: cursing, fluff, kisses, cuddles, tara being a sad pup, college routine kicking everybody's asses, core four as a family.

Note: First time writing for Tara! Pure fluff cause I’m starting on a new job this week and needed comfort.

English is not my first language.

It's been four days straight since you last kissed Tara.

Not that she was counting, she really wasn't, but now, after an extremely long and tiring day of exams and more exams, it seemed impossible not to feel your absence next to her. The feeling of neediness and loneliness hits her hard when she realizes how long it's been since you two have been together.

Four days. Four whole days of no holding hands or playing with her hair, no hugs, no cuddles and definitely no kisses. Be it on the forehead, the cheek, the shoulders, the hands, or on the lips. Nothing. It's like the universe just decided one day 'nuh-uh, no kisses for Tara Carpenter' and boy that was unfair.

The last time you kissed her – actually kissed her – was on Monday morning, at the beginning of that hellish week, when she woke up too early with the sunlight escaping through a crack in the curtains bothering her eyes, with her whole body completely curled up on top of yours. One of the best ways to wake up, really. The same thing happened to you a short time later, because as much as Tara loves being in your arms, she also can't help but feel restless when she's awake and move a lot, but the way she lights up when you sleepy mumble a good morning to her doesn't make you able to be upset with her for that.

You gave her a slow, lazy kiss, still with that warm aura of sleep remaining.

It was the most she could enjoy of your company before you had to leave in a hurry to escape the scolding Sam would give you both for spending the night having class the next day – even though, you know, you're college students and adults – and get to your own dorm to be ready in time for your first class in the morning.

She would have braved the scolding and made you stay a little longer if she had remembered that exam season was about to start. Unfortunately, this only occurred to her when she had her first taste of it later that day.

See, that was perhaps the thing Tara hated most about her new life as a student in New York: the way the change in routine could easily overwhelm her, and how that made it even worse because you couldn't be around as much as she wanted you to.

You were a year ahead of her and your courses were different, so you didn't have any classes together and your paths barely crossed during the day, which meant the only times she got to see you were on quick runs across campus, barely having time to exclaim a 'hi baby!' before disappearing with stacks of books and notebooks in your arms.

Sure, you exchanged a lot of messages, but it wasn't the same as having a warm body next to her in bed or on the couch. You couldn't even come to the apartment after everything because she was also too tired from her own work to hangout after it.

But Friday had finally arrived and she had enough time to wallow in self-pity until everyone got home. Checking the patterned wall clock that her sister bought when they moved in, Tara realizes that it's already past five pm and the sound of the door opening is the sign that her family has started to come in. She buries her head in the pile of cushions, ignoring the throbbing pain in her temples.

“Ugh, finally." Mindy plops down next to Tara on the other side of the couch, clasping her hands above her head to stretch, “What is this? Why is there a sad, miserable gremlin on our couch?”

She hears Chad's loud laugh coming from the kitchen but can only mutter a 'fuck you' muffled by the cushions she's sunk into, feeling a tap on her calf in response.

Tara wasn't going to put up with any mockery now, not when she was so tired and sleepy and missing you. She would do the same thing she had done the last few days: take a hot shower without giving a shit to Quinn's protests about using all the water, hug Sam when she got home from work in 45 minutes, and accept the offer of a snack when her sister ask if she had already eaten, then she would go to her room, throw herself on the bed and text you goodnight, before completely blacking out until the next day, when she could finally have you all to herself for the entire weekend – and for the rest of the week too. The worst part is over, so screw it, you guys could afford to miss some classes.

“Are you just gonna lay there and give up on existence, lil dude?” Mindy starts again, interrupting the peaceful and only partly distressing silence Tara had settled into as she builds up the strength to stand up.

“Will you shut the hell up?” She bites, grabbing one of the cushions and hitting her friend in the face, “You’re not funny and my head hurt as fuck.”

“Jesus, okay, okay!” Mindy waves her arms in defeat and stands up, “I won’t say anything else then.”

"Great."

“I’m not gonna say–” She takes on a teasing tone, “–that Anika thought that a certain someone was really upset and buried in books all that time in their dorm and that it would be better if they came straight here after class to take a break, but I’m not gonna tell you that.”

"What?" Tara’s expression immediately brightened, “You’re serious? What you–"

“Well, I told my girlfriend to bring your girlfriend. But it's okay, I'm not gonna say any of that.”

Mindy looked extremely smug but Tara chose to spare her another hit in the face for the sake of the information she just received. She lights up and jumps off the couch in a flash, rushing to shower and get ready now that she has a good reason. She hears Chad shouting from the kitchen:

“Girl, I thought you were tired!”

“Right?” Mindy laughs, “Wednesday’s at that age when a girl has only one thing on her mind, Chad.”

This makes her stop: “I don’t look like her!”

She slams the door shut when she hears their laughter increase in response.

If someone asked Tara if it was true that she sat on the side of the sofa closest to the door so she could see the exact moment you arrived, she would vehemently deny it – even though that's exactly what she did – and she would also deny that she deflated a little when the first person to arrive after the twins was Sam with a pizza box in one hand and covering a big yawn with the other.

You and Anika only arrive almost half an hour after Sam, finding Tara already watching you with doe eyes. Your haggard face immediately breaks into a smile, lines of fatigue crinkling in the corners of your eyes.

“There you are, dear,” you cross the room towards her and Tara leans in, even before you touch her, practically purring at the soft kiss you leave on her forehead, “I missed you.”

She melts when you wrap your arms around her, burying her head in your chest, but that's it. A kiss on the forehead and a hug and then you're pulling away again because you and Anika have brought more food that should be placed on the kitchen counter.

It only took this small moment of you going back and forth for everything to come back to Tara with full force. You didn't kiss her.

It's stupid, it's irrational, but her eyes fill with tears even though she can clearly see you from behind, unpacking the groceries and talking to your friends there.

Tara tried to just sit and wait for you to come back as soon as you were done, but patience was never her thing.

“Hm?” You hum when you feel a tug on your hodie's sleeve, looking back to find Tara with a tearful, frustrated expression.

“I had a really long day,” she begins, not quite sure how to ask for what she wants, eyes focused on the floor, “Will you come stay with me?”

Your heart races and your voice immediately softens: “Of course, sweetheart.”

Tara wastes no time in dragging you to her room by your wrist and you can't even react to the warning look Sam throws you over her shoulder.

She perches on your lap the second you sit down on the bed, sighing in relief as she buries her face in your shoulder.

You rest your chin on her head, “Did somethin’ happen?”

“I’m gonna quit college." She moans in defeat against your neck.

You huff a giggle into her hair, “Same, baby.”

Tara pulls away just enough to look at you and the pure love and tenderness in your eyes is more than enough to make the tears come back.

“What? What is it?" You straighten up, worried, tightening your arms around her.

“You haven’t kissed me in four days.”

She blurts out, voice cracking and strangled and you stop.

“Four days?”

Tara nods, “Except for the one on the forehead, you haven’t really kissed me in four days and like, several hours.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?” She frowned. Shit, now she was getting mad at you, “Oh?”

You rush to take her mind off it, pressing a kiss to her lips in which she immediately melts with a soundly sigh of relief.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” you murmur between small pecks distributed on her lips, “I was so caught up in everything that I didn’t even notice.”

Tara still seemed a little upset by your response, but you kissed her again, bringing a hand to her jaw to deepen, feeling your girlfriend's arms entwined around your neck.

When you pull apart this time, you're both out of breath and Tara's face is covered in a soft red glow. You gently draw patterns with your fingers on her hips and lean in, leaving a kiss on her warm cheek.

“I’m sorry, Tar,” you echo, looking deep in her eyes “I’ve missed you so much. How can I make it up to you?”

She pretends to think for a moment, averting her eyes to hide the shiver that runs through her body.

“It's been four days,” she huffs with more annoyance than she actually feels, “I'm a girl who has abandonment issues, you know, it's your obligation to kiss me every day from now on.”

“Noted,” you smile.

“But…” She starts with a mischievous smile, “You could also make me feel better by watching The Babadook with me.”

“No, no, Tara!” You whine, “The noises of that movie freak me out!”

“Oh, I know,” your girlfriend says, blinking innocently, “But I want to do something with you, it's been so long since we watched something together alone and I love you so much.”

"I love you too." You respond instantly.

It only takes a look at those doe eyes and you lose the battle immediately and Tara looks victorious. She knows the power she has over you, the adorable little shit.

She leaves your lap just enough time to pick up the laptop on the table and returns to her place, you pull her back and lie down on the pillows, dragging her against your chest, pulling a blanket from the corner of the bed to cover you both.

“Tests are over,” you say, burying your face in her neck as the movie scene darkens, “The next few weeks are ours now. Just ours.”

Tara giggles when you startle again, sinking further against your body, smelling the hodie you were wearing, the one she got you for your birthday.

“Ours,” she says, “I like how that sounds.”

Tara tries to stay awake as long as possible, even after you fall asleep with your face buried in her neck. She's almost asleep when Sam quietly opens the door, a plate of pizza in hand and an eyebrow raised. The silent question of ‘can she stay the night please?’ is just a formality.

There's no way you're getting out of her league anytime soon.

[certaimromance]

𝜗𝜚 Holding Us.

Spencer Reid x Fem!reader

Summary: You finally had a perfect date with the guy you like, you even kissed and everything seemed perfect. But suddenly he starts acting weird and you think you know this behavior.

Words: 2,5k.

TW: mentions of trauma, death, injuries. drugs and addictions!!! especially spencer's history with them. angst and also comfort???. spoilers for season 2. english is not my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: Next time I'm probably going to write something that might be all fluff, but drama and angst are calling to me.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

The taste of green tea, accompanied by ginger, entered your throat again and you couldn't help but let out a sigh. Your reading glasses fogged up and you mentally cursed yourself for not remembering to take them off sooner. Your mind was elsewhere and the bandage on your right hand made it impossible for you to go about your business normally.

You settled into the jet seat and tried to ignore the pain you felt in your arms to continue reading normally and turn the page, but it was still impossible and not even your favorite hot drink worked as medicine. All the recent events were replaying in your mind like a movie, and being attacked by a serial killer on your first case after a long flu break was worthy of a dramatic script.

Fortunately, Spencer was your partner at the time and helped you just before the unsub could use his knife on you badly and end your life in the blink of an eye. You had cut your hand deeply in the middle of the struggle and Reid appeared to save you when you were lost, even with his few physical skills, he fought the man as best he could and shot him without even hesitating.

You didn't even get a chance to thank him because it all happened so fast and he'd been acting weird since you came back to work after your break. In the ambulance, he barely looked at you when the paramedic finished patching you up, asked if you were okay, and then went back to acting like you were a pest to be avoided at all costs. You kept wondering if you'd done something wrong, because just four weeks ago the two of you had the best date of your lives, even kissed, and now you weren't even acting like friends.

You began to wonder how much could have changed in a week. Everything was fine until you officially went back to work and tried to act normal. You got sick after the date, Spencer was a gentleman and brought you soup and flowers for days, even though he knew you wouldn't let him see you. And then, overnight, you found out that he'd been kidnapped in a case while you were away, and assumed that was why his constant messages and calls had stopped. You came back thinking that you could be a support to him after such a traumatic experience, but instead he avoided you.

“Is everything okay?” Hotch's voice startled you, almost causing you to drop your cup on the floor. He was sitting in front of you and you thought he was asleep like everyone else.

“Oh, you scared me.” You put your hand over your heart and put the teacup down on the table to look at him.

“You haven't answered my question.” He insisted, settling back in his seat and giving you a look that compelled you to tell him everything. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I was just thinking about what happened and how I didn't get a chance to thank Reid.” You admitted somewhat awkwardly, not wanting to make it obvious that your feelings went beyond friendship, although deep down you knew it was clear. “I've seen him acting strangely, I think he's avoiding me.”

“You should try to talk to him and ask him what's wrong. He saved your life today, that's not something you do by avoiding someone.” Your boss said in a reassuring tone, noticing your great nervousness about the subject. “I don't think he'll have a problem talking to you, and now he seems as thoughtful as you are.” He finished, pointing with his head.

You took the moment to look at Spencer and noticed that Hotchner was right. He looked as pensive and confused as you had been during the minutes you had all been traveling. He was frowning slightly, fiddling with his fingers and looking out the window, even though it was night and there wasn't much to see because of the darkness. You couldn't help but wonder if he was thinking about you.

“I hope you're right.” You murmured, taking another sip of your tea and looking at the papers the man was going through. “Strauss will send me home after this, right?”

“You can't do much with your injured use hand, you need a few days.”

“I'm fine and my other hand is fine, I have not even had to take painkillers. I've got it under control.” You replied tiredly, trying to ignore the pain you felt by making a gesture. “Please don't send me home. I can't anymore, I have to work or I will go crazy.” You added, practically begging him.

“Don't get used to it.” He warned you in a serious tone before continuing. “But I'll talk to her and you stay out of it. You'll just profile and theorize until your hand is right. Nothing more than that and where my eyes see you.”

“You're the best boss in the world, really, I'll buy you a mug that says that.” You said, getting up from your seat and holding back the urge to hug him, knowing it was too much.

“Agent.” He called out to you in a serious tone before you could do anything. “Be careful and tell me if you are in pain...just don't tell anyone I intervened for you or I'll fire you.”

“Understood, sir.” You replied in the same formal tone before heading for the bathroom.

Something inside you knew it wasn't normal for the stitches in your hand to hurt so much, so you slipped into the plane's bathroom as quickly as you could, thankful that most of the team was asleep enough to notice your groans as you moved forward and closed the door behind you. You carefully removed the bandage, seeing that a few stitches had opened up, and pulled the painkillers you'd been given to ease the pain out of the bag, but before you could take any, a couple of knocks on the door made you jump and pray it wasn't your boss.

“Who is it?” You asked in confusion.

“It's me, Spencer.”

You didn't even have to think before you unlocked the door and yanked it open with your good hand.

“Do you want to come in? I was just leaving...” You started to babble as soon as your eyes met his and all the nervousness of a teenager in love appeared.

“I wanted to know if you were okay, I saw you come in complaining of pain.” He explained calmly, lowering his gaze to your hand and watching it with concern.

“Oh, don't worry. I'm fine.”

“May I check?” He asked cautiously, and you nodded a little nervously.

You went further into the bathroom so he could do the same, and he did, taking the back of your injured hand after washing his hands to make sure everything was okay. He touched you so gently that you almost forgot the pain you were in without even taking the painkillers.

“One of the stitches opened up, that's why it hurts. But it's not infected, so they should just sew it up and you'll be fine.” Spencer reassured you while you looked at him carefully.

Incredibly, this was the first time since your return that he had said more than one sentence to you, and he was less than a meter away from you. It made you feel like a fool to be mildly excited about it.

“And how are you? You were the hero who took the worst of it and saved my life.” You pointed as you watched him carefully apply a new bandage to your hand.

As soon as you asked, he pulled away and unconsciously put his hand to his stomach, where the unsub had elbowed him pretty hard in the middle of the struggle. “I'm fine. Nothing I can't handle.”

“Sure?”

He nodded and ran his fingers gently over his stomach, wincing as he tried to hide the pain. You always thought he wasn't very good at hiding things. As soon as he looked into your eyes and saw your worried face, he repeated that he was fine. You raised a skeptical eyebrow, not believing him for a second about his supposed well-being. You had spent enough time with him to know when he was hiding something, just by looking into his eyes.

“You're a terrible liar.” You said, looking at him with narrowed eyes while he repeatedly shook his head. “Then let me see.”

Spencer's eyes widened at your request, but the blush that appeared on his cheeks betrayed that there was more than embarrassment in his expression. He hesitated for a moment, but finally agreed, knowing he wasn't going to get out of this one. He slowly lifted his shirt, wincing as he did so, revealing the large red bruise on his stomach, just above his hip.

Your gaze fell on the large red bruise on his stomach and you gasped, covering your mouth in shock. It was much larger than you had expected and the color much more intense. You reached out tentatively and gently touched the bruised skin, causing him to flinch involuntarily.

“Are you in much pain?” You asked in a worried voice, trying to decipher his expression.

“It hurts a lot.” He nodded slowly, wincing as you touched the sensitive area, sending a shiver down his back. “But I'll be fine, really.”

“Okay.” You whispered, not knowing if it was time to move away from him or not. Not knowing what to do, you spoke again and didn't move. “I wanted to thank you for what you did, I haven't been able to before.”

He seemed surprised by your appreciation, and even more so when you stopped touching him and took a step back.

“I would never let anyone hurt you.” He said seriously, as if it were an oath.

You looked at him for a few seconds to make sure he meant it, and then you looked down at the ground. Something inside of you was screaming at you that this was the time to talk to him and put all your doubts on the table for him to resolve. You needed answers or you would go crazy, and maybe this was the time.

“Spencer.” You called out to him and waited for him to look at you to start talking. “I wanted to ask you what's wrong, if I did something or I don't know, apologize if it was like that, because it's terrible to see you avoiding me.” You began to speak quickly because you were nervous. “And if it's about the other night...our date and all that. I'm really sorry if I made you uncomfortable and pushed you into something.”

“No, you didn't do anything.” He stopped you immediately and tried to touch your face to make you look into his eyes, but he couldn't because of a sudden pain in his stomach and he had to lean against the sink. “The date went well, very well. It was actually wonderful.”

“What's wrong with you, why are you acting like this all of a sudden?” You asked him. You asked him, taking a few steps toward him and noticing that his eyes were on the painkillers you had left on the sink. Then you noticed how dilated his pupils were. “Are you in a lot of pain? Do you need these?”

“I'm fine, I'm not acting out in any way.” He replied, completely ignoring your last question, but still with his eyes on the meds.

“Come on, I know you. I know there's something wrong with you, and you don't have to hide it.” You persisted, trying to understand what was happening to him. You could tell by his body language that he was tense and defensive.

“I said I'm fine.” He cut you off.

“No, you're not, I realized something is wrong.” You tried to approach him because of his erratic behavior. His hands had begun to shake and his fingers were inches from the box of painkillers. “You can trust me, I know you and I'm here for you.”

“You think you know me that well already?” His tone made you feel uncomfortable and invasive. You could tell he was bothered by your implications. “One date doesn't get you that far.”

Ouch, that was a low blow.

“I didn't say that, Spencer.” You said, trying not to sound defensive. You didn't want to start a fight when you were just worried about him. “I just want to help you.”

“I don't need your help.”

You were silent for several seconds, your eyes following his to the painkillers. “But you need these, don't you?”

The trembling of his hands intensified with your question, you could see his pupils seem to dilate even more at the sight of the drugs in your hands, and his breathing became irregular. He nodded several times after your question, desperate to get his hands on them.

“Since when?”

“What?” He asked confusedly as you took the painkillers from his hands.

“You know what I'm talking about.” You looked him straight in the eye with seriousness and much more concern than before. “I know an addict when I see one.”

Your words had hit him like a big bucket of cold water, freezing him in place. He barely blinked a few times before he spoke.

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“We both know.” You took a few steps toward him and took his hands, stopping the trembling in them. “And that means you're not alone in this anymore.”

He could hardly believe what you said. His mind had convinced him that if you found out, you would yell at him, turn your back on him, or report him, and instead...you were comforting him?

Spencer felt unable to look at you, the guilt washed over him. He tried to pull away.

“You...I'm a drug addict, and you're not even mad?”

“I'm not one to judge you, but I am one to help you.”

His eyes widened slightly at your words. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. He desperately wanted to protest, to tell you that he was hopeless and completely lost...but how could he? You seemed so determined to stand by his side and support him, even after learning such a painful and shameful truth.

“You won't...leave me?”

“I would never leave.” You gave him a small smile and felt him drop his head on your shoulder and relax. “It's going to be okay.”

Finally, he closed his eyes and let out a choked sob without pulling away. Your words had hit him at a low point, and the reality of the situation had come crashing down on him after he had tried to ignore it for so long. He slowly embraced you, feeling that he would collapse without your support.

“Everything will be fine.”

And you were so sure of it that you saw yourself in the mirror every day.

[verstappenf1lecccc]

hey! can you please write a lando × bustamante reader....where the reader is the younger sister of Bianca Bustamante and has a huge crush on lando but Lando finds her irritating for some reasons and one day he shouts at her after a bad race when she tries to console him in front of the McLaren crew.. after that lando felt really bad and he had grovel a lot for forgiveness (btw the reader is only one year younger than bianca)....if you do write this thank you very much 🧡🧡

🎀1,317 words 8561 Characters around 5 pages enjoy 🎀

ooo I’m not the biggest fan of bianca but I do love this trope :)

You knew that life was never meant to be fair to everyone yet you had no idea why life constantly tried to screw with you.

Ever since you were a child, you’d always been compared with your older sister, Bianca. She was always seen as the brave, bold, and beautiful one who dared to achieve her dreams and had high ambitions. Whereas people, heck, even your own family, saw you as the timid, overlooked, and frankly dull sibling. Did it hurt growing up like that? Yes, it did.

Did it hurt when all the boys you had a crush on would only use you to get to your sister? Yes, it did. Did it hurt to see your sister achieve everything you’d ever wanted in life and for you to only be known as her sidekick, or, in other words, her shadow? You really don’t remember the last time you’ve ever set yourself apart from your sister and her needs; it’s almost second nature for you to prioritise her and ignore yourself.

This habit of yours was noticed by the eyes of a young British driver. He’s found that habit of yours annoying ever since.

The day Bianica signed for McLaren under F1 Academy was the best and worst day of your life. You were beyond happy for her but you also felt yourself fading further into her shadow. With more media coverage and attention on your sister, you simply faded away.

You had frankly thought about packing your bags and going back home until the same blue-eyed British driver caught your attention. It was silly to say, but you felt like a little teenager with a huge crush.

You knew it wasn’t right to have a crush on your sister’s coworker, but the way he was made it almost impossible. You liked the way he talked, the way he walked, and the way he still had his accent. You liked the way his nose wrinkled any time you talked about sushi or fish. You liked the way that he was a ball of energy, always so confident and fun to be around. What you liked the most about him was the way he made you feel seen and heard. When you were with him, it was almost like you were just you and not Bianca's little sister.

However, within all the giddy feelings of having a crush on Lando, you could not ignore how badly McLaren was doing. It was almost pitiful how poor their race performance was. Qualifying 18 and 19th and having to come into the pits four times in the race would kill anyone’s mood. Lando was no different; over the course of the season, he grew more and more aggressive and agitated after each race.

Lando and her had formed a little ritual: after each race, he would do his interviews while she would wait in the garage, and he would go into his driver's room, and exactly 5 minutes later, she would show up with any sweet treat she could snuggle in, and they would just talk. Some days it would be him talking and her listening, and other days it would be her lifting his confidence up with encouraging words. It is safe to say she really loved their ritual, only hoping to continue their ritual with better results for him.

As the season went on, she noticed a shift in Lando's behavior. His happygo-llucky attitude towards her started to shift towards a more annoyed and irritated mood. It started when she tired of talking to him before a race; he didn’t take kindly to that and simply ignored her and rolled his eyes. It hurt her; it really did, and she could do nothing about it.

They were not friends; they were just forced to be together due to their situations. She knew he would never like her back, but her infatuation with him made each and every move he made romantic.

It started to affect her more when he started distancing himself from her. Lando never wanted to hurt her; he started getting fond of the girl he once was annoyed with. He didn’t know why he started cutting her off; he was trying to play dumb, but deep down he knew he started having feelings for her.

He messed up in Silverstone both on and off track. Home Grand Prixs always have a special place in drivers hearts. It was no different with Lando; Silverstone was the one place every British driver wanted to win in front of their home crowd on their home soil.

The race was long anticipated; she was in his driver's room prior to the race; they had their normal routine done and dusted; he stared at her for a second longer; and she started at his lips for even longer.

They both knew the tension in the room was inevitable; someone just had to make a move. McLaren was proper shit during qualifying, so all expectations were nullified even before the race started. With Lando starting in P9 and Oscar in P5, it irked Lando how well Oscar was doing in the same car as him. A rookie driver beating the team's star child was never a pretty image.

The race started with Lando’s car being 2 seconds off the pace of K-Mag, which was really nice for him. As the race progressed, Lando almost made up 3 places by the end of the 38th lap.

However, McLaren messed up Lando in the pits, being stationary for almost 18 seconds. His 6th place turned into a plum last, and to make matters worse, he ended up retiring the car simply out of spite. He knew he was mad, and he showed it really well on the cameras, especially towards his team.

She knew it was a risk to go see Lando, especially after seeing how mad and snappy he looked. She knew he was probably beating himself up over the way this race went. It didn’t help that Oscar ended up on the podium. It was horrible, really, but neither of them could do anything.

He saw her enter his room; he didn’t like that. He didn’t want her to see him like this, all beaten and broken down. He didn’t realise when his tone shifted or when he felt the anger rise up within him.

All she had said was, “It’s not your fault; I know you are going to do better.“ That’s all he let her get out before he exploded.

“I honestly don’t remember asking for your opinion. God, you are so pathetic sometimes, always searching for attention from anyone who spares a glance at you. It’s all your fault; you think it’s funny to come into my room and give me glances right before a race. God, why are you so fucking stupid?"

“Maybe this is why your sister will always be better than you; your parents probably saw that, and so does everyone else when they see you and her together. Look at her; she’s a driver, and look at you sneaking into a driver's room, offering yourself to him all for what?? bloody attention?? Get out. I don’t want to see you anymore. All you’ve done is clutter my brain.”

Y/N walked out of his room with hot tears running down her face, her face all red, and a pounding headache. But what was worse than all that pain combined was the pain running through her heart; it genuinely felt like her heart was snapped into two and stepped on by a herd of elephants.

She didn’t know why he snapped at her; all she wanted was to help him. Everything he said made her fall into a spiralling downfall. All the work she’s done to keep her insecurities hidden and healed, Lando’s words ripped them apart and left them burning red and raw.

[toxycodone]

oviposition anon teehee i wanted to elaborate more last night but i was tired as fuck and zooted off the penjamin. but like getting separated from the rest of the party and encountering the slime creacher alone with Laios.... you think he'd tell you what the thing is? im sure he knows alllll about it, like he has a private little list of all the most fuckable monsters and of course the damn oviposition slime is on there. do u think he just dives right in head first, or does he try to create some kind of plausibly deniable situation in battle? youre terrified cause you cant make heads or tails of this creature in order to kill it and arent strong with fire magic but.... why does he look like he's having fun? and is that his clothes getting dissolved in there....? and why is he so hot all helpless suspended in the pink gel (ive just now decided the slime is pink), shuddering with pleasure as each near transparent egg enters his body? if you were to get caught by it without knowing what it is i dont think he'd leave you in there, but when he pulls you out of the goop his raging hard on is impossible to ignore and just BEGS questioning.... maybe you need to go seek out another one? or maybe i need to get writing

LISTEN TO ME. ANON YOU ARE ONE HUNDRED PERCENT ONTO SOMETHING. (And I would 100% be down to read something full about this bc oh my god???) and pink slime is the superior color you’re based.

contents: monster fucking, mutual masturbation? if you can call it that?

When you two encounter the slime, Laios is oddly…excited? I mean, he’s always excited to see monsters, but this. Is different. He doesn’t brandish his weapon or look stiff at all when you two encounter it, so you put away yours and you’re like…what the fuck is the deal man??

Laios looks between you and the slime. After a few moments, he casually walks to you.

“Well…um…this slime. They’re usually aggressive, but, you can tell by the color that it’s breeding season. And they’re unusually docile when this occurs…”

So you’re like? Okay. Awesome. No fight required. Let’s get out of here.

But Laios taps his fingers. He looks away a little as he plays with his thumbs.

“You see…it’s docile. But it doesn’t mean we can just leave. Unless we want to find another route. But it’s going to keep going until it eventually finds an adventurer…to use as a host….”

And you’re kinda like um? So do you wanna kill it? Or

And Laios is like “I HAVE AN IDEA. So…the secretions of this slime numb pain and promote healing. If we help this slime out…we can get some of those. It may be useful when Marcille’s out of mana….” Laios then puts his hands on your shoulders and looks at you seriously. “I PROPOSE…we let this slime use us as hosts. And in return, we collect its secretions and save any other unaware adventurer an encounter with it!”

And you’re floored. But once he explains to you, it’s just eggs (they lay them in adventurers to spread their kind to other floors). And it’ll feel *good*. You put your hands on your hips.

“Let me guess. You’ve been waiting for us to encounter this monster, huh….?”

*Cue that iconic Laios blushing panel.*

Anyways, you accept. Laios gives you the rundown from his guide and notes from his journal. First, you have to remove your clothing. The slime will get them soaked and likely tear them to shreds anyways, and if you don’t have a spare you’re screwed. Then, the slime’s secretions will coax you into relaxation. You’ll feel yourself go limp, but it’s not a bad thing. It’ll just make it easier for this whole process—so don’t fight it. Lastly…just enjoy? The slime does all the work and the eggs aren’t dangerous. You’ll pass them in a few days when the incubation period has succeeded (Laios wants to keep one or two to eat, but he doesn’t explicitly say that now).

And so you agree. It seems…oddly fun. Neither of you get time to really do anything sexual while dungeon crawling. And this seems like a good release.

And so you let it happen and it’s fucking MIND BLOWING. The slime’s secretions are absorbed through your skin as it surrounds you, making you feel some weird mix between drunk and high. Your body is limp, but everything you feel is extremely heightened.

The slime teases you all over and gently prods at your holes before slowly opening you up. (if you have a cervix) it’s numbing properties keep it from hurting as it spreads you open and pumps its eggs into your womb/hole. It’s honestly one of the best experiences you’ve had.

It’s like. Some sort of ethereal mutual masturbation experience with Laios, because when you look at him his skin is almost as pink as the slime. His brows are furrowed, eyes shut tight as he moans wantonly, not a care in the world. You can tell when an egg is laid in him bc his face contorts, but then his licks his lips and lets out a shaky moan. There’s already streaks of white in the slime and you’re not sure if it’s just a ton of precum or if he’s already came from the slime.

But you don’t have a lot of time to think about that before you’re shuddering from your own orgasm. It seems the slime coaxes as many as it can from you and Laios—as the more you relax and enjoy the experience the easier it is to continue pumping eggs into your system.

And afterwards, the slime resumes its usual light blue color and withdraws from you two. If you weren’t mistaken…you’d think it was blushing….theres two pink patches left on its “cheeks” as it slithers away, streaks of cum and slick still present in its body.

And. Of course. In typical Laios fashion, while you two are coming back to your senses, covered in slick and slime and who knows what else. All he can do is look at you with that same dopey lovestruck expression and mumble about how much he loves you.

[2amriize]

✩࿐࿔ eyes on you - eunseok one shot

genre: academic rivals, enemies to friends pairing: eunseok x reader

Eunseok is known for being one of the smartest and most perfect students at the country’s top university. He had never found anyone who could challenge his position until you arrived at the university as the new student. With an impeccable academic record, you quickly became his only rival.

From the very first day Eunseok met you, he saw you as a threat, and although he was friendly with everyone else, he hardly ever spoke to you. He basically acted like you didn’t exist. You always thought it was because he didn’t want to accept that there was someone who could compete with him.

At first, it could be said that it was only a rivalry over academic grades, but this rivalry grew over time, adding in popularity, achievements, awards in competitions, and so on. Tensions were rising as the school year progressed, and everyone in your class could feel it.

It was exam season. You usually studied in your room, but your roommate had invited some friends over for a few days, making it impossible for you to concentrate there. After trying several cafés to study, you decided that the best option might be to go to the university library. You had been avoiding it all this time because you knew exactly who always studied there: Eunseok.

You looked around for a place to sit, but since it was exam season, the place was completely full. You walked through the aisles to see if there was any empty seat towards the back, and finally, you found a spot where no one was sitting. You walked as fast as you could so no one would take the seat, and when you got there, you sat down quickly.

You sighed in relief, but when you looked up, you were completely stunned. Eunseok was sitting right in front of you, looking at his computer while trying to solve some exercises in his notebook. Eunseok raised his head, making eye contact with you.

“Well, well, what’s y/n doing here? I thought you could only study in your room,” Eunseok whispered, letting out a soft laugh.

“I came to keep a close eye on you,” you joked as you pulled out your laptop and notebooks.

“Don’t worry about me, y/n. You should focus on yourself. After all, it’s very easy for me to beat you.” Eunseok watched you with a smirk, the kind that always made your blood boil. You simply ignored his words, immediately getting to work on studying for the calculus exam you had coming up.

Although you thought it would be hard to concentrate in the library (especially with Eunseok in front of you), the hours passed by quickly. When you looked out the window, you realized it was already dark. You checked the time on your laptop: 11:38 p.m. You had been there all afternoon, and you were so focused on solving the exercises that you hadn’t even realized you had missed dinner.

You stretched a little as you lifted your head from your laptop, noticing that almost everyone had already left the library, but Eunseok was still sitting in front of you. He was focused on writing things on a piece of paper while doing some calculations on his calculator. You noticed that his hair was a bit messy, and he was wearing glasses. You had never seen him like this before. In class, he was always well-dressed and polished, and as far as you could remember, he never wore glasses to class. He really presented himself as perfect in everyone’s eyes.

Eunseok stretched as well, letting out a small yawn while looking at you. You were also starting to feel a bit tired, not to mention starving, but seeing how Eunseok started writing a new exercise in his notebook, you knew you couldn’t just get up and leave. It was a silent battle of sorts, where the last one studying the longest would win. This was also one of the reasons you had been avoiding the library to study, because you knew there would be a competition over who could study the longest. Still, you finished stretching and went back to looking at your laptop, starting to work on more exercises.

When you checked the time on your laptop again, it was 2 a.m. Your eyes were starting to close more and more, your vision getting a bit blurry as you looked at your notes. Plus, you couldn’t help but hear your stomach growling. What if I close my eyes for a few seconds? you thought as you rested your head on one of your arms.

You didn’t expect that when you opened your eyes again, Eunseok would be standing next to you, touching your shoulder to wake you up. You quickly sat up, confused as you looked at him.

“What… what’s going on?”

“You fell asleep, y/n. That’s enough,” Eunseok murmured as he started packing up your things, leaving you looking at him confused as you started to pack them too. Why was he suddenly being nice to you?

“No, I didn’t fall asleep, I was just resting,” you heard Eunseok laugh.

“Yeah, sure…”

When you finished packing up your things, you stood up from your chair, realizing you were wearing a sweatshirt on your shoulders that wasn’t yours.

“I put it on you so you wouldn’t get cold. I know better than anyone how hard it is to study when you’re sick,” Eunseok said as he started walking towards the library exit, and you followed him.

“Thanks…” You couldn’t deny that you were taken by surprise by Eunseok’s attitude towards you, but on the other hand, his words felt very familiar. It was true that Eunseok could understand you when it came to studying, since both of you had probably had the same experiences in high school, studying all hours to be the best in the class, even when sick.

You walked to the exit of the library in silence, stopping at the door. You looked at each other in silence for a few seconds until Eunseok broke the silence.

“I don’t want you to get the wrong idea, but it wasn’t so bad having you as a table partner. But, well, good night…” he said before turning around and starting to walk towards his dorm.

Did you hear that right? You couldn’t help but smile when you heard his words.

“See you tomorrow, Eunseok,” you raised your voice a little so he could hear you before heading to your room as well.

ᡣ𐭩 masterlist

taglist: @cherryishxo @gacktsa

[bri-cheeses]

Our Little Secret - Part 2

| Rosekiller microfic | Word count: 787 | Part one is here |

-

“Can’t you just tell me plainly like any other normal person?”

Evan ignored that.

“Ravenclaw party. Fourth year.”

“What?” Barty asked, shocked back into bewilderment once more.

“That’s when I figured out I liked guys.”

Barty’s response was a beat late. “Uh… okay?”

“Do you want to know how?” Evan pressed. He took a step forward. He wasn’t sure whether he was gratified or angry that Barty took a step back.

“Yeah, sure,” Barty huffed. “Whatever gets you to finally spit it out.”

Evan closed his eyes. Barty’s barbed words were almost enough to stop him from saying it, but he had already made up his mind. And he doubted that their relationship could really be salvaged now that they had both managed to mess it up so terribly, so really, there was nothing holding him back anymore.

He opened his eyes slowly, calling to mind dim lights, bad music, and too many teenagers in one space. He took a deep breath.

“You were dancing with this girl,” he began slowly. “I don’t even know who it was, because I didn’t spare her a second glance. Not when you were there next to her, dancing and smiling like you were having the time of your life. And then you looked back over to me and somehow you smiled even wider, then gave me this stupid little wink and in that moment all I could think was how much I wanted to kiss you.”

Barty’s breath hitched. Evan ignored it.

“Olivia Gleaves, fourth year again. The first ever girlfriend you had, who I hated so fiercely that Cas had to corner me and tell me to knock it off, that you were my best friend, yes, but that didn’t mean I could feel entitled to being your number one person all the time. And so I shut up and stopped glaring and I was a good little “best friend” until you two broke up three weeks later.”

“Barret Fay, fifth year. The first guy you ever kissed. Coincidentally, I broke my hand that night, and a dent found its way into the wall. Lucky for me, I suppose, that we had a big Transfiguration paper due the next day and I could easily write it off as frustration with schoolwork.

“December 16th, fifth year. We got caught under the mistletoe, and instead of laughing it off and kissing me on the cheek like you had with every single one of our friends, you refused to even touch me and spent the dinner afterwards eating in complete silence, and I made sure to never walk through doorways with you again during the holiday season.

“Cooper Covenhelm, sixth year. The first actual boyfriend you ever had, and the first guy to threaten me to stay out of the way and to not talk to you unless I absolutely had to. So I took the back burner for the next two months and let Regulus fill in as your best friend, then tried not to let anything slip when you finally cornered me and asked why I had been avoiding you. I don’t remember what I said, but you broke up with Cooper a week later and I felt so relieved I could hardly breathe.

“There are a bunch of other things I could talk about. The runs I started going on just to get a break from you and clear my head. All the people who threw themselves at me but I rejected because I was too hung up on someone else. The way Regulus figured it out at the end of last year and actually looked sad on my behalf, because, I’m assuming, he knew how impossible it was, too. The fact that I lied about what I smelled in Amortentia, the way literally everyone else in our friend group has figured it out, that time that you accidentally stole one of my shirts and I didn’t say anything because I liked how you looked in it… the way you kissed me last night, then told me just now that it was a mistake and I should keep quiet about it.”

“So you’ll excuse me if I’m a little angry right now. But I’m sure that you’re right. It was a mistake, and I’ll keep quiet about it because that’s what I’m best at, isn’t it?”

Evan waited a beat for Barty to say something, then shook his head when nothing came. He should’ve known better than to expect anything, honestly.

“I’m going to breakfast,” was all Evan said. And he turned around and walked away, cursing Barty for never being able to see him as anything more than a friend, and hating himself for hoping that he ever would.

-

(Part three)

[generalllimaginesss]

author’s note: I blacked out while writing this, so it will be as much of a surprise to me when I wake up and reread it as it will to you when you read it for the first time. It wasn’t requested, just something that my brain came up with and wouldn’t let me sleep until I finished it. It’s loosely based off of Olivia Rodrigo’s The Grudge and the movie Sweet Home Alabama (my favorite movie). Also, this is completely made up in my head and in no way reflects something that Luke Hughes has done, or will do. It’s also 2:06 AM and I can’t promise that it’s proofread very well because I can barely keep my eyes open (I worked a double today).

Warnings: cursing, ANGST, cheating, kinda sad but has a good ending. Slow beginning, but I promise it gets better!

Without further ado….

The Grudge

“Hello?”

The single word that was the catapult for the demise of your relationship. The single word that changed the course of what you pictured your future as.

Luke’s side of the call was silent, the only noise able to be heard was his breathing, heavy as if the weight of the world was crushing his lungs, deflating him of life.

He wasn’t supposed to be calling. He had told you he was having a guys week, a time for him to regroup with his brothers and friends at the lake house. It was his own little sanctuary away from the life that he had worked so hard for. A quiet place. He had asked for that time, to which you agreed, he needed a break.

“Luke? Everything ok?”

He wanted nothing more than to hang up the phone in that instance. The reality that he was about to destroy the last bit of trust that you held for him constricting him as he fought with his vocal cords, trying like hell to form some form of vocalization.

“I need to tell you something,” He managed to squeeze the words out, every bit of courage mustered into it. The feeling of facing the mistake that he had made seemed impossible compared to simply just refusing to acknowledge it. He could ignore it all, ghost you, and pretend like he had never ruined everything. He had ruined your relationship, your love. You. He had ruined you, including everything that came from the relationship the two of you developed a couple of summers before he had left to play for Michigan.

Ironic that it would begin and end during the summer.

“Ok. Are you-”

“Are you alone?”

His brothers will kill him when they find out, but your family? The thought of them being there to wipe your tears and listen to your rants that have to do with him break his heart. He had developed a special relationship with your dad, your mom always put a stocking out for him during the holiday season, your brother? He had taught your little brother how to skate, how to play hockey. Even though he couldn’t coach your little brother’s team, he had supported him since the beginning. He had bought him his first jersey. 43.

“Yeah, Luke. You’re scaring me.”

“God, I fucking hate myself. I’m so sorry,” Sobbing, the sound of his arm wiping his nose could be heard. He knew he shouldn’t cry. He chose this.

He knew he didn’t always treat you like you should have, no deserved, to be treated. He didn’t spend time with you like he should have, he didn’t tell you he loved you enough. When you yelled at him about things, he would scream back. He would never hit you, but his words cut through your core, sometimes feeling worse than what you imagined the sting of one of his slaps might feel like.

The anxiety that stemmed from Luke’s call gripped your lungs, confusion coursing through your body outweighing the blood that sucked at carrying the oxygen at the moment. There was nothing random about your relationship, he didn’t surprise you with anything, much less a phone call.

Something is wrong.

The silence was deafening, overwhelmingly so.

“I tried to tell myself that you would never find this out, but there was somebody taking pictures and I need you to hear it from me first, ok?” He closed his eyes forcing himself to find some shred of courage left inside of him.

“Ok,” The word was breathy as it left your lips, a courtesy to encourage him to continue.

“I cheated,” It flowed out of his mouth in such a casual way that it felt like somebody had stabbed you in the back, twisting the knife and watching as you writhed in pain. The taste of iron flooded your senses as you bit your cheek to hold yourself together.

“We went to one of the local bars. She was the bartender, she knew us. Trevor invited her to the house after her shift and me and her ended up alone together while the others were out back and one thing led to another…one of the guys took a picture and posted it on their story. They forgot about you.” He tried to explain it in a way that redeemed himself. He was only 20 years old…this bartender could’ve taken advantage of him, but you knew him.

He didn’t get close to just anybody, he was the gate to his space. Nobody would get through the gate if he didn’t want them to, including this girl. Which made the bile that was building in your throat much more bitter. The fact that he not only cheated, but is trying to play victim makes you bubble with rage. Luke Hughes was very good at many things, but the one thing he had never quite mastered the role of was “victim.”

The shock coursed through your body like metal to a magnet, searching endlessly for something to smash into and deciding your heart was the place to do that. It felt like you forgot to breathe, your lungs aching for a breath.

“Y/N?” He willed you to talk, silence causing more anxiety than your anger ever would have.

“I never would have done this to you,” Your whisper spoke more volumes than a scream would have, cutting through the phone and going straight through Luke’s body. He wished you would scream at him, tell him he fucked up, but the way you said those words made him feel like this was it. He couldn’t come back from this one.

“I’m sorry,” His words were meaningless, but he spoke them nonetheless.

Those two words sent you into a silent rage, one that wrecked the inside of your mind but couldn’t be seen by anyone else. You hung up the phone, throwing it across your room and immediately packing everything that had to do with Luke into a box that you found.

Packing 4 years worth of things that you acquired from him was emotionally draining, each article triggering memories through the years.

His first Michigan Hockey sweatshirt that he had bought himself packed into the bottom of the box reminded you of the date he had planned. He had snuck the two of you into the arena when no one was there and taught you to skate, skills that still stick with you to this day. His first hoodie became yours that night, the smell of his cologne long gone from the comfort it brought you many nights when you felt lonely.

A Devils snow globe and jersey that was decorated with the number 43, his number, packed next. He had bought it for you the day he was drafted, convinced that it would be worth something one day. And it was. Just not to you anymore. The snow globe was attached to a memory that was better left forgotten. It was for your birthday, which happened to be the day after his. When you had gone all out for his 20th birthday, buying him a new custom suit and designer shoes that required months of savings, he gave you a snow globe that “you could add to your collection.” You had said some backhanded things to him, a huge fight came from that. A fight on your birthday, something else that you would’ve never done to him.

The last items consisted of hoodies, a few pairs of sweatpants and boxers, and a couple of jackets. The last thing, however, was something that you didn’t know if you could part with.

It was a letter that Luke had wrote you for Valentine’s Day the second year of your relationship, a sweet surprise that you weren’t expecting with your usual bouquet of daisies and roses, your two favorite flowers.

When you doubted your relationship with Luke in the past, when arguments and fights felt like it was all it consisted of, you always found your way back to his letter. He had told you that you were his end game, that there would never be somebody else that was better suited for him. He poured his heart out in that letter, telling you that he was going to marry you one day. One day when he had made it to the NHL and could roll in money, he was going to buy a rock for your finger and a huge house for all of the babies that you talked about.

Rereading the letter normally made you remember the good times, when things were good, but under the circumstances now it made you want to burn it, to watch his words turn to ash, just like the promises he had made to you.

Meaningless. His words were meaningless now.

It wasn’t always his fault, no. There were instances where you said things that you knew hurt him, things that echoed in the back of his head every now and then. Something along the lines of him never being as good as his brothers, that he would always be in their shadow. That Luke Hughes would be known as “just another Hughes brother.”

Some days he felt like that statement couldn’t be more true, that he would never live up to the records that Quinn and Jack seemed to break every time they stepped on the ice. Some days he just couldn’t see it coming together for him.

But other days he knew he was determined to make a name for himself, for Luke. The Hughes name was a force to be reckoned with. Luke wanted to be even better than his last name. Whatever it took, sometimes at the expense of those around him.

You snatched the letter that was stuck in the corner of the mirror that perched on top of your dresser, the sound of the paper crisp beneath your fingertips. As much as you wanted to destroy the letter, you figured it would be better to send it back to Luke. He needed to see all of the promises he broke and hurt he’s caused.

The paper was the last thing in the box, folded neatly on top of everything else.

Closing the box, you carried it to your car, placing it in the backseat behind the driver’s side. If there’s one thing that could be payback to Luke, it was telling his parents. He thrived on his parent’s approval, likely a symptom of being the youngest brother of an extremely successful family.

Ellen and Jim’s faces burned the back of your mind, so many memories that consisted of the two of them. Countless games at Michigan were spent with the two of them, as well as a couple of trips to New Jersey. You had helped Ellen cook supper many times, and watched as Jim coached his sons. Ellen’s pep talks were rarely intended for you, but you always felt like something could be learned from her wisdom.

The drive was silent, muscle memory the only way you could manage to get there in the state you were in. You didn’t know if the lights were green or if you used your blinker, all you could think about was Luke admitting to cheating. All of the shit you had been through with each other, all of the petty fights, had finally come to a head. You may have gone low, below the belt at some point in time, but this? You never could have ruined him like this, no matter how bad you wanted to.

As hurt as you were, you were numb. Tears wouldn’t fall, your body still in shock over the news.

As you drove up the paved driveway to the house that had become your second home, the emotions hit you when you saw Ellen in the flower beds, digging up weeds and planting new flowers.

She had heard a car approaching, causing her to look up and recognize you. Although she loved for you to visit, you normally didn’t come over unless Luke was with you, especially now that him and Jack owned the lake house.

She wiped at the sweat that was beading her forehead, dirt from her work gloves sticking in some of her blonde locks that were glued to her face. She smiled at you, before confusion flashed and she saw that you were carrying a box.

“Hi, Doll! Luke’s not here, but I’m glad you stopped by!” Her warm tone and kind smile didn’t fade, even if she did notice something off about your demeanor.

Her voice broke you. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to bring her and Jim into this. Maybe you should have just threw everything that connected you to Luke in a garbage can and called it a day.

“Sweetie, what’s wrong?” She walked towards you with her arms open, noticing your quivering lips and teary eyes.

She was drenched in sweat from the summer sun, but you didn’t mind it. Dropping the box on the driveway, you allowed her to wrap her arms around you tightly. Her embrace gave you comfort as sobs racked through your body. How could such a loving mom and dad create such a jack ass? They had done perfect with 2/3 of their sons…what happened with Luke?

“Do you want to go inside? Jim’s working on a sink faucet, but he won’t mind,” She ushered you inside, her hand gently pushing your back.

Nodding, you wiped your nose on your sleeve and allowed her to walk you inside. She quickly washed her hands at the sink Jim was working at, earning a few objections from him, but she hushed him and motioned to you.

His face filled with concern as he noticed something wrong with you. He could fix a lot of things, but girls was something he would leave to his wife.

The leather of the couch soothed the heat that the summer sun had left on your skin. Ellen joined, sitting next to you as she rubbed your back, calming you. She truly was like a second mom.

“Is everything ok?” She held onto your arm, the pressure from her fingers sending tingles to your brain.

“No,” You croaked, the single word rattling your throat as it struggled to exit.

“What happened?” Her voice had dropped below her regular volume, but above a whisper. She cut her eyes at Jim who was attempting to listen from the kitchen.

“He cheated…”

The shock hit his parents as hard as it did you. Quinn would never cheat, Jack? It was questionable sometimes. But they’re baby? The one that had endured the lectures from his parents the longest, the one that had seen his brother’s mistakes and learned from them, the one that seemed so in love with you that nothing could ever separate you both? It seemed nearly impossible. Surely it was a mistake.

“How do you know? The press always lies…” She trailed off, your eyes connecting to hers.

“He told me,” The strength you tried to regain from your prior meltdown was useless as your voice trembled, “…said that he wanted to tell me before somebody else did.”

“Oh, Honey. I’m so sorry,” She pulled you into her arms, watching as Jim rounded the corner to join. You were like the daughter the two of them had always wanted, so seeing you hurt killed them in return. And at the hands of their son? They were immensely disappointed. They didn’t raise him like this.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know what to do, and I probably should have left you both out of it,” Your attempts at stopping the free-flowing tears were useless, so you embraced each one as it fell, “…um, I brought his stuff back. I know he’s at the lake house, but I don’t think I can see him right now. I really wish we could have worked. You two will never know how much you and your boys mean to me.”

“Likewise, sweet girl. I wish I could make this all better. You may not feel like it right now, but our family will always hold a spot for you,” Ellen reassured, a hum of agreement resonating within Jim.

“Anytime you want, and I’m serious, our door will always be open for you. No matter the time or circumstance, do you understand?” Jim waited for you to respond, a nod of your head, before embracing you again.

Their words meant so much, but the hurt still ached, seemingly never ending.

You said your goodbyes, taking in the house that you would probably never see again. The walls holding memories that only those in the house would ever understand or appreciate.

Closing the front door felt like closing a chapter on your life. A chapter that felt like it was ending in the middle with no resolve, but it closed.

It needed to.

———

As the New Year approached, your parents reminded you of the plans they had that would draw them away from home. They claimed that they celebrated Christmas with you, but the New Year meant that you were alone in a house that felt big and lonely while they celebrated with their fellow group of middle aged parents.

The months had passed, agonizingly, since Luke’s cheating admittance. The summer turned to fall and fall into winter, getting colder like you were allowing your heart to do.

A few dates here and there did nothing but remind you that the guy wasn’t Luke. They should’ve been better than Luke since they actually treated you with respect and checked every box that a girl had.

But the lack of teasing, of being the biggest pain in your ass and best friend, made the hole in your life bigger. You were sure nothing would help, not even the texts from Ellen and Jim, periodically, made it better.

They all consisted of the same topic: “How are you doing?”

It was the same old same old, until it wasn’t. Until Ellen texted you after Christmas asking you about your plans for New Year’s Eve. The Hughes had always thrown a party for the New Year, packed to the brim with people.

When Ellen asked if you had plans, you had every intention on lying and saying yes. Saying that you had a date and that he was taking you to see the countdown and fireworks that followed, but something told you to tell the truth. So you did.

After you had admitted to her that you, in fact, would be all alone, she reached out and invitation to join them.

The invitation had toggled in your mind for a few days now. On one hand, you wanted to go see how everybody was, talk to his brothers, catch up with his friends. On the other, you wanted to stay home in your pajamas and watch Andy Cohen get shitfaced with Anderson Cooper while wondering if Luke would kiss somebody for the occasion.

The saying “curiosity killed the cat” proved to be true as you had finally decided to go, a sparkly gold dress accentuated your curves, hugging you in all of the right places, the places that Luke had once yearned for. You don’t know how, but your makeup was flawless, your eyeshadow bringing out your eyes in a way that you had never seen, but you loved it. Maybe this was revenge?

Even though you hadn’t made the drive in over 6 months, you still knew it like the back of your hand. Your nerves were working overtime, anxiety squeezing your thoughts the closer you got to the Hughes’ residence.

What if Luke had a new girlfriend? What if his parents were the only ones that wanted you there? Was this actually a good idea?

Too late now.

There was probably 25 or more cars that littered the driveway, most carrying a minimum of 2 people. It was a relief, maybe you could just blend in with the rest of them. A chameleon in the house of your ex lover.

Music blared, drifting from the backyard into the front, making the walk to the door less daunting of a task. There was no use in knocking, the sound of talking and music would most likely just drown it out, so you took a breath as you pushed the door open. It appeared to be the spot for the more mature crowd, Jim spotting you as soon as you walked in.

He was confused as to who you were at first, but as soon as you gave him a shy smile his face lit up with excitement. He had missed you more than he realized.

“Y/N! What a nice surprise! Come in, make yourself at home,” He squeezed you in a tight hug before relinquishing you.

“Y/N! Oh my, I wasn’t expecting you to come, but I’m so glad you did!” Ellen squealed, the clinking of her heels against the hardwood floors becoming faster as she did her best to jog to you, embracing you like her life depended on it. It lasted a few seconds before she held you out at arms length, examining you.

“Gosh, you look absolutely stunning! That dress was made for you!” She gushed.

“Thank you! I just decided to throw something together last minute. I should have let you know I was coming, but I honestly didn’t decide until right before I got dressed,” you chuckled, explaining the lack of communication on your part.

“Honey, you do not have to explain a single thing to me! I’m just so happy you’re here!” She hugged you again, rocking you side to side.

“The kids, sorry, young adults are out back. I do have to warn you…Luke did bring a date,” As she explained the dilemma, you expected yourself to break down. When it didn’t, relief washed over you. It had been almost 7 months, why wouldn’t Luke have moved on? You couldn’t be mad at him for that part, but you still held a grudge against him for allowing you to love him as much as you did and shattering your heart in the end.

There was never another conversation between the two of you. His parents never brought him up, he had never attempted to contact you, so the resolve was the fact that you returned everything. He had nothing left connecting him to you. That was how it was supposed to be, so there was no need to communicate with you. He had gotten the message loud and clear when he had returned home to a box of his things in his old bedroom and an ass-chewing from his parents and brothers. One that he would never wish on his worst enemy.

He learned from his mistake, but felt like the very toxic situation between the two of you was better left where it was: untouched.

He had been trying to move on ever since, sleeping with any girl that reminded him of you, sneaking them out before Jack had noticed, or simply just embracing the newness of being alone. It sucked at first, but he got used to it.

Ellen’s face flushed with concern at the momentary silence that followed her statement, scared that she would scare you off with the news of her son, your ex, having a date that wasn’t you.

“Ellen, it’s ok! I’m a big girl, I can handle it,” Making light of the situation was easier to fake on the outside, but trying to convince yourself was a bit harder.

You talked to Ellen and Jim for a few more minutes, catching them up on the latest details of your life, and then grabbed a Michelob to give you some liquid courage as you walked to the backyard.

There was people dancing, circles of people talking, various games being played, the scene never-ending as your eyes scanned over them. A few people locked eyes with you, recognizing you as the ex, but most everybody just continued to do whatever it was that they were doing. It wasn’t until Quinn’s eyes softened from his party vibes to concerned big brother that you felt nerves wrack your body. He immediately excused himself from the group he was talking to, making his way through the small sea of people to get to you.

For a split second you wanted to run away, but the rational side of you talked you down. It was just Quinn. Quinn had done nothing to you except loved you as if you were his own sister, so why would you run?

“Y/N! I wasn’t expecting you…how are you?” You immediately threw your arms around his torso, him returning the gesture, his hug similar to the way Ellen had hugged you.

“I’m good! I had no other plans and Ellen seemed like she really wanted me here…”

“Yeah, she hasn’t shut up about you,” He laughed, recalling how his mom mentions you anytime a girl was over, even one that Luke brought, and always comparing them to you when they left.

You were the standard that she held possible daughter-in-laws to, but they never lived up to you, she would admit.

“Gotta love her,” You chuckled, a slight awkward tension fell between you, a foreign, icky, awkwardness.

“That you do,” Quinn tried to repair the conversation, but some friends began to pull him away. He had mentioned to not leave before telling him bye, and then left with the group.

“Didn’t think you’d show up here,” The voice turned your blood to ice, freezing up what the beer had tried to let loose prior. No matter how many ways you envisioned this interaction to go down, nothing could have prepared you for hearing his voice after so long. It wasn’t like “nails on a chalkboard” irritating, but more along the lines when you pick a scab and it starts bleeding again.

That’s quite literally what it was. He was an old wound in your life that was becoming irritated because it was being messed with. No matter how much time had passed, it was still sensitive.

“Well, didn’t think I would be here either. It’s just as much a surprise to me as it is to you,” You turned around, met with the beautiful, curly-haired boy that was once your everything and a petit blonde that was his temporary. She was gorgeous, you’d give her that. But it wasn’t real beauty. It was bought. There’s nothing wrong with that, but her bleach blonde hair, fake tan, and push-up bra was irritating like nails on a chalkboard.

“Do you mind going to get us something to drink?” He turned to his date, giving him the empty bottle that his hand wrapped around.

“Is that a Michelob Ultra?” You almost snorted, her question a breath of fresh air in this unfortunate meeting.

“Not her and I, you and I,” Luke quickly cleared up.

She left with a smirk playing at her lips, kissing his cheek and heading inside.

“God, please let’s go somewhere else,” He grabbed your arm, tugging you to a secluded, area beside the shed out back. Your brain told you to rip your arm from his grip and scold him for thinking it was okay to ever touch you again, but your deemed in control and allow his touch to erupt butterflies in your tummy.

“I don’t know what I was thinking bringing her here,” he groaned, realizing he was still holding onto you, quickly letting go.

“She seems more Jack’s type, if you ask me,” You suggested, Luke squinting his eyes at your words.

“Good thing I didn’t ask…” He may have been the reason the relationship ended, but he wasn’t going to put up with any slander that you had for his current life. The life that didn’t include you.

“Whatever, why did you bring me here?” You looked around at the spot. It had definitely been a spot where the two of you had snuck off to make out several times, escaping the teasing of his older brothers.

“To talk…” He shift his weight to his heels, his hands finding warmth in the pockets on his pants.

“Oh! To talk about you being a complete dipshit and cheating on me this past summer? Yes, let’s talk about that!” Sarcasm dripped from your voice like venom from a snake, targeting the next victim: Luke.

“I’m sorry…” Again, the empty apologies were beginning to grind at you now. You didn’t want the apologies or the excuses. You wanted him to shut up for once, hear you out, and then come up with a genuine apology. He had said his piece, now it was time for you to say yours.

“No, Luke. You’re not sorry for cheating, you’re sorry you got caught. Save the apologies for when you actually mean them,” You started, him immediately shutting up and listening.

“We were so fucking toxic. You know it, I know it. The whole world probably knows it by now. But, God, I loved you so much. I would have spent my whole life trying to fight for that stupid relationship and you turned around and threw it all away. And for what? Some temporary pleasure? You couldn’t keep it in your pants long enough to get back to me?” Your words shot through him, like bullets hitting glass, shattering the surrounding areas. He couldn’t argue because everything that you were saying was true, but he’d be damned if he let you find satisfaction in being right.

“You said it yourself, it was toxic! You probably would’ve found a problem with me being there without you, anyway!” He tried to defend himself, but he was fanning a flame that he shouldn’t be messing with right now.

“Don’t you dare try to manipulate me into thinking your cheating was justified! Luke Hughes, I’ve said some fucked up shit throughout the years, but I never have, and never will ruin your trust. That’s the type of shit that lasts a lifetime. I can’t date anybody else because there’s always that ‘what if’ of them cheating!” Tears brimmed your eyes, softening the wall that surrounded Luke’s heart. He was a tough guy, but the sight of you hurting was a soft spot for him, an Achilles heel.

“You promised me a future, and then turned around and burned it to the ground without a second thought once you got a taste of fame,” Your finger poked at his chest hard enough for him to wince, expecting to see bruises the next morning.

“You’re a liar! A fucking liar and cheater!” Your voice broke as the words left your mouth, but Luke took the verbal beating that he deserved.

“Do you think I want to be labeled as a cheater, Y/N?! I’ve prayed for months that I’d just wake up and it not be real, that we’d still be together!”

“Awe, so sad, Luke. Truly heart wrenching!” You grabbed at your heart, feigning compassion as he began to clench his jaw, the muscle flexing as his annoyance rose. It was hot, but not hot enough for you to do anything about it.

“Stop being such a bitch, it may suit you, but it doesn’t mean you have to wear it.” His eyes grew dark, almost challenging you to see who would win in a game of insults.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot I was supposed to act however you deemed fit. Even if you’re a cheater…”

“I cheated, I’m not a cheater,” he tried to correct, a viscous chuckle tumbling from your mouth in response.

“I’m not! That’s the one and only time that it will ever happen, I can promise you that!” His voice rose in volume as he continued to defend himself.

“Oh, one and done Luke! How nice! My trust is fixed, so there’s nothing left to worry about!” The sound of people counting down in the background didn’t distract you.

10…9….8…

“If I’ve had anything in the past months it’s peace in knowing I don’t have to put up with your fucking nagging anymore!”

7…6…5…

“Yeah, and I don’t have to worry about you fucking some rando anymore!”

4…3…2…

“Shut the fuck up and kiss me.”

1…

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!” The voices erupted behind the shed, but the whirlwind of a kiss muffled it all.

Luke eagerly pulled your face toward him, his lips colliding as intensely as a train hitting a car on the tracks. An accident waiting to happen, but there nothing that could be done about it.

It took a second or two, but you kissed back with the same passion as him, him pushing you backwards until your back hit the wall of the shed.

His lips were like home, sweet and comforting. The remnants of his vodka redbull tempting your taste buds to plunge deeper, but you didn’t, you let him set the pace.

One of his hands tilted your chin up, steadying it as the other pulled you closer from the small of your back. Every sense inside of you erupted in fireworks as his tongue tried to gain entrance into your mouth, but you stood your ground, or tried to at least.

The hand that steadied your chin found itself wrapped around your neck, the shock causing you to gasp as he gained entrance.

“Luke! I finally found something to drink, but we missed our-” The voice immediately tore the two of you apart, the fireworks over the lake and store bought pretty interrupting the fireworks that were going off inside of you. Your breathing was a little shallow as you tried to control it again.

“-kiss. What the hell.” She glanced between the two of you before storming off, her stiletto sinking into the grass as she desperately tried to remove it from her foot.

Luke groaned, but the chirping had just begun for you, “One and done, huh?”

“Me and her aren’t even dating!” He squealed.

“We’re talking about this tomorrow, Y/N. Do you understand me?” He pointed at you as he began to smooth over yet another failed attempt at dating, but he wasn’t going to reconcile that one.

“Aye aye, Captain,” You gave him a silly salute, earning an eye roll from him, but as soon as he turned away from you the smile wouldn’t disappear.

Call you crazy, but you hadn’t felt butterflies for a long time, probably since his note to you. What you felt tonight was an army of butterflies being obliterated by fireworks. The feeling of his fingers around your neck, his jaw muscle contracting, everything about him had turned you on.

Did you really fold that easily?

Oh well. The thought of the next day, the possibility of getting him back, along with his family far outweighed your pride.

He could be your Luke once more.

[xxetherealsweetheartxx]

MK Characters with a breeding kink

Might make a part two (you can write in the comments who else could have this kink) MDNI (Breeding, Pregnancy kink (?), Degradation, Somnophilia)

Liu Kang ❤️🔥

Look at him. This man would definitely want to have kids, even if he's a god with little time on his hand. He feels dirty whenever he looks at you and the only thing on his mind, is fucking his cum into you. But he can't help it whenever he sees his lover. He enjoys putting his forehead on yours as he's in missionary. Something about this gesture feels so soft and intimate. Sex is impossible for him if there isn't a loving gesture. He hopes to get you pregnant, he just wants to see you carrying his child. "Dear, you're doing so good for me…” He would whisper into your ear while slowly and softly fucking into you. “Such a beauty…”

Bi-Han 💙❄️

Bi-Han is mean. He almost sees you as his personal fleshlight. Just a hole for him to fuck. He doesn't care how worried you are about getting pregnant, he's coming inside. You can't even talk with how hard he's fucking into your already abused hole, how puffy it has gotten from the overstimulation. But even with how sensitive your poor cunt is, it can't stop pulling him in. And whenever you whine and tell him to stop, he just comes with a "Is that so? Because I can feel your pussy milking my cock." He's expecting you to give him a heir. Bi-Han trust you enough to do the job and give him a son. Everytime you guys fuck, he makes sure to cum multiple times inside your cunt. He has to make sure you're completely stuffed with his potent semen.

Kuai Liang 💛🦂

Man has insane baby fever. Whenever he's in a store, he'd stare like five minutes straight at the baby section. He just finds the clothes adorable and hopes to get you pregnant, so he can buy these clothes for his baby. Oftentimes he would ask to start a family and get sad, whenever you felt you weren't ready (idk how, I'd immediately jump on his bones). But whenever you guys have sex, he can't help but think about breeding you. He has this need to fuck his cum deep inside you. He also enjoys after cumming inside you and then watching all his cum oozing out of your poor abused cunt. “You did so good… good night, honey” he says softly while wrapping his strong arms around your body. Please let him breed you, he'd be a great dad trust me

Fujin 🩵🌪️

RAAAA FUJIN. That one interaction between him and Sonya

Fujin: You must like having a daughter

Sonya: Still getting used to the whole idea

Fujin: It is a joy I will never know

But after meeting you, he wants to try and make this reality. You both fell in love and Fujin brought it up one time. When you agree that you are ready to start a family, he gets ecstatic, as well as a feeling in his lower stomach. He was laying on the bed, his long white hair free from the braid. You were riding him, hands gripping his shoulder. Obviously he would never hurt you, but he can't help accidentally leaving little crescent shaped marks on your hips. "My Love... You are so so.. beautiful" He pants out while he fills you up with his cum for the third time. "My Dear... So good just for me..." Fujin groans out. 

Syzoth 💚🦎

The thing with Syzoth is that he isn’t human and that he experiences a breeding season. You’d notice how much bigger he’d make himself whenever there are other men near you. He gets more clingy, you can forget privacy, with him following you everywhere. You’d ask what’s wrong and he’d denied it, as if whatever it was, was shameful to admit. You dropped it. But you can’t ignore these weird changes getting stronger each day. Until one night you woke up when you felt something rubbing against your ass. When you turned to look, you gasped a bit. There was Syzoth, dry humping you, eyes closed and he was biting his lips to keep quiet. “Syzoth..?” You mumble, not even fully conscious. Suddenly his eyes snap open and he looks at you. His eyes looked different, it held a lot more emotion in them. Suddenly he pushes your head back into the pillow. A small yelp escapes your mouth, but Syzoth was already on you. He’s tearing down your pants and without warning pushes his whole length inside you. It stretched you and you can only bury your face in the pillow, as he fucks with no remorse. “Mate… need to breed mate…” he whispers. Then he leaned down, his bare chest touching your back, as he kissed your ear. “I’m… so.. sorry.. Fuck!” He hisses out the last part. You can only moan as he uses your body for the rest of the night.

[irisintheafterglow]

friends can i hs journalist!reader x bachira brain rot on main real quick because i really need to get this idea out of my head

it's no secret that bachira meguru did not have friends. elementary school into middle school was essentially spent in solitude, and only when he reached high school did he attempt to connect with others.

luck, he figured, placed you two at the same lab table for a science class whose concepts he's long forgotten. you were uncharacteristically warm to him and possessed the patience of a seasoned kindergarten teacher, letting him doodle in the top right corner of your notebook and worksheets. you were always ready to build on whatever joke he muttered, but equally as quick to steer him onto the right task. you countered him so easily that it unnerved him. he found you perplexing, listening to him rattle on about soccer with an interest that only his mother had shown him. there was a monster inside of him, he'd revealed after a few months of knowing you, and you nodded in understanding like you could see it too.

"i feel the same way when i'm photographing a game. it's hyper-focus, right? like someone is whispering in your ear what the best shot is, though i guess 'shot' means different things to each of us," you added, barely glancing up from your notebook. you picked out a yellow highlighter from your pencil case and carefully ran it over a vocabulary word, only stopping when you saw bachira staring at you. "what is it?"

"you're in yearbook?"

"yearbook and journalism class, yeah. i write for the school paper, but it's mostly the sports columns," you say with a nonchalant shrug.

"oh, so do you do, like the-" he holds his hands in the shape of two L's, wiggling the top joint of his pointer finger like he was pressing the shoot button on a camera. "the this thing?"

"mhmm. i take photos at the games and i also write about the result afterward. it's pretty cool, especially during nationals season." another highlighter is chosen meticulously from your bag, the same shade of blue that he liked to draw raindrops with. bachira could probably match a doodle to every writing material you owned, if he tried.

"huh, i bet. why've i never seen you at a game, hmm?"

"they usually assign the same people for each sport, and i've been covering the basketball and volleyball teams for a few years." orange, you pick, for something about homeostasis. "why?" he catches a mischievous sparkle in your eye, like you were teasing him. "you want me to go to your games?"

"absolutely," bachira replies without hesitation. "you don't even have to ask."

so, you do go to the next game. not as a school journalist, but just as a spectator in the stands. you find a seat next to a very passionate mother cheering for the other team, somewhere in the middle of the bleachers. it's close enough that you can spot bachira as soon as he's on the field, and he spots you too. he raises his hand in an excited wave, mimicking the same 'shooting a camera' gesture that got you into this situation. during the game itself, you realize bachira's talent is impossible to ignore, especially when he's finding you after every goal and assist and doing the camera movement like it was your own private joke. you find yourself in the stands again and again, catching his eyes and finding that he's already looking at you.

"i can't believe they actually let you switch," he said, breathless after he sprinted across the field to find you during half-time of your first game as acting journalist. "what'd you say to convince them?" you shrugged, a small smile playing on your lips.

"i just told them the truth," you murmur so that only you two could hear, "that i like watching you play."

"right," he stutters, unsure of what to say. "yeah. well, i'm glad i look cool to you!" he considers it one of the biggest mistakes of his life, leaving whatever was there between you two unsaid. he didn't respond how he wanted to, truthfully, because you'd caught him off guard. bachira meguru wasn't used to having friends, nor was he used to the airy feeling in his forehead and the lightness in his stomach. bachira meguru was not good at being in love.

when he left for blue lock, he felt like he'd left a part of himself with you.

"you're-you're leaving?" he knew you were trying to keep your composure, but it was slipping. he explained the implications of being a certified athlete again and you nodded, your mind anywhere but present. "i see. do you know when you'll be back?" bachira shakes his head. "i see."

"but it'll be good! it'll probably make me a better player and get me one step closer to my dream!"

"right. i'm excited for you, meguru." there was something off in your tone that he couldn't place. the monster was telling him he was...hurting you.

"i'll send you letters or something like we're in shakespeare!" you crack a pained grin, forcing out a laugh that was no more than a nicety. most of the characters die or hate each other in shakespeare. "and i promise i'll come right back to you when i'm done." it seems to be the wrong thing to say since he spots the tremble of your bottom lip as you swallow thickly. what was he doing to you?

"i hope it's everything and more," is the last thing you say to him before he leaves for blue lock. when you're completely removed from his life, he finds his mind drifting to you as a safety net when he had trouble sleeping or hits a low during training. it is everything and more, being at blue lock, but his fingers want to become the shape of a camera every time he makes a goal.

"'mock press day' my ass," raichi declared during a training day before the u-20 match. according to ego, the five-on-five scrimmages would be observed by various reporters to increase interest in the blue lock vs u-20 game. "they just want an excuse to gawk at us."

"the existence of this program is riding on that game," isagi points out. "they're probably trying to prep us for the other scrutiny that comes with being in the public eye." raichi's eye twitches, his grip tightening on the laces of his cleats.

"they can shove all their eyes up my-"

"what kind of press do you think they'll be?" chigiri's question unconsciously catches bachira's attention. "news channels? maybe interviews?"

"don't be thinking they care about what we're doing here," rin deadpans from across the locker room. "it'll be yelling and flashes and that's it, so ignore them and move on." from a dark corner of his brain solely focused on preparing for a match, a childish hope consisting of two words popped into the back of bachira's mind. what if?

when the kickoff whistle is blown, the other players don't understand why he keeps looking toward the spectators as if he's trying to find someone. the even more perplexing bit?

why bachira apologizes in advance for 'needing to show off' before pulling the nastiest dribbling the program has seen since its conception.

--

there's a buzz in the visiting group of reporters when the match you observe ends, compliments and awe revolving around the striker with the outlandishly good dribbling skills. he was really fired up, they comment. and he's only your age, they say to you with wonderstruck faces. can you believe the talent of that striker? i'm not sure what he was doing with his hands after each goal, though. was he taking a picture of us instead? while they continue to recount their favorite plays, you smile and wait for him to come and find you, your star player and his favorite photographer.

--

later heard in the locker room: "why the fuck was bachira kissing one of the press people after the match?"

"call it unfinished business," bachira replies with a satisfied smirk, "you better be scared of me, next time that reporter is in the stands. i have a lot of time to make up for."

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[deathbyamantadine]

James Wilson has an anxiety disorder and I’m going to tell everyone about it.

That was a really long title and pointless. I could have stopped after the first six words.

Anyways, hi, hello, if you don’t know me, my name is James and I really like James Wilson. I also like writing a lot. I also have an anxiety disorder. That led to this amalgamation of headcanons and thoughts about James Wilson.

So, I don’t even know how to start this. Fair warning, I have completely canon divergent headcanons with no canon evidence and just pure projection. I also use commas way too much.

Besides projection, why do I think he has anxiety? Well, I relate to him a lot and lots of his canon social behaviors do reflect my experience as well as others’ experiences with GAD or SAD. I think it goes ignored a lot with Wilson that a lot of his behaviors like people pleasing or having few friends is actually symptom of anxiety. Also, anxiety and depression are often comorbid or associated. In the show, specially that Social Contract episode, it’s SUPER apparent. As someone who headcanons he has both, his “I don’t have to worry around you” monologue to House could be read as a symptom/sign of GAD or ASD. I’m not going to get into my personal social anxieties and such, but I relate to that monologue HEAVILY. Stressing about what you say and having to mask your anxiety around people who don’t understand is a lot. There’s like, two people I can talk to without stressing the fuck out. Back to Wilson, though. His fear of breaking rules is also Anxiety™️ Symptom #1000. He is the most typical man ever on the show, or at least outwardly appears as one. He often fidgets with his hands while he talks and I know that’s because RSL is a stage actor but a guy can dream, alright?

People pleasing. Oh, boy. I could talk about this one for hours. James Wilson loves pleasing people, it doesn’t mean loving people for some but it does for him. He constantly needs to be needed, he always has to be helping, yet he’s never helped. He doesn’t want to speak the things he’s feeling because he feels that means being a burden!! that means being wrong!! that means letting people down!! He likely enjoys being with House so much because he knows it’s impossible to let him down, he doesn’t have to necessarily worry about pleasing him because House is like, very aware of what he’s thinking. House doesn’t give a fuck about what people feel most of the time.

Onto the less canon stuff and just more headcanon and/or projection stuff:

He has obsessive interests he uses to cope, like films. I’m basing that off of his posters and also… myself. This is projection, here.

He cannot do a lot in a short span of time. Worrying takes a lot of his energy and he needs recovery days. He’ll often just sleep for over 12 hours because he had to talk a lot and that means worrying and preplanning everything he was going to say.

He was either late-diagnosed or doesn’t even realize he has anxiety. Yes, he’s a doctor, that sounds odd but let me explain. Men around his age, but also in general, aren’t too open about their mental health struggles. They just think it’s normal. If he was late diagnosed, it was likely when he was seeking out a depression diagnosis. Off topic but can we talk about that for a moment? The show ignored that after the one mention. Season four spoilers ahead so skip to the next bullet point if you’re not there. Here are some filler words so people can scroll. Yadda yadda yadda. HIS GIRLFRIEND DIED!! THAT WOULD FUCK WITH ANYONE BUT ESPECIALLY SOMEONE WITH MDD!! Also, he’s medicated. Medication typically means it was affecting his day to day life. Medication means admitting something wasn’t right and that was likely very hard for him!! Anyways.

His first panic attack scared the living hell out of him. If he was young and still living with his family, he didn’t want to be a burden. He sat in his room sobbing for hours on end because he didn’t understand why his body was doing this. (Chest pain, shaking, not listening to him repeating Calm Down like a mantra, etc.) If he was older, I imagine he likely still didn’t tell anyone but it scared him for a different reason. It meant to him that he was broken. It meant to him that he needed something. He needed help and that scared him.

Intrusive thoughts. I imagine they got worse after S4 finale happened. That’s really it.

Coping? What’s that? He just ignores it.

Once again, breaking rules horrifies him.

That’s all. Goodbye. I do see the possibility of a lot of these being interpreted as ASD but I have a whole other post for that, maybe. Comment any thoughts and feelings. Be nice.

[lucedilunax]

Thank you, I love you - C. Keller

pairing: Clayton Keller x girlfriend!reader

summary: Three times when she helped Clayton and one time when Clayton helped her

warning: NSFW, graphic sex (+18), swear words

words: 2.4k

note: ahh my first ever request work! i was so excited to write about clayton, enjoy it💕

masterlist

---

When Arizona’s franchise was suspended

In April, the big news hit that Coyotes won’t be in NHL. This was a shock for Clayton. He knew about the problems, but he was pushing away the thought that club, who drafted him and gave him a chance to play won’t be existing. His head was spiraling, he was uncertain about his future.

When Clayton got back home after coach told them about this, he hasn’t acknowledged his girlfriend sitting on a kitchen chair, waiting for him. Like always, she asked him questions about the training, but he haven’t heard anything. It was uncommon for him to ignore her. She started wondering if she has done something to piss him off.

She felt like the right call is to give Clayton space. When he went straight to the living room and turned on a movie, she went to their bedroom. As much as she wanted to confront him and ask him what’s going on, she preferred to stay out of it and wait for him to talk.

The evening came and she decided to leave the room and go to the kitchen to cook for both. She knew that Clayton can’t prepare any meals and probably haven't ate anything since he returned. She stepped into the kitchen, and he saw her. He immediately stood up and rushed to her.

“Hi love”. Clayton said and kissed her. “Sorry for earlier but I’ve got weird news and couldn’t place my mind in the right spot”. He hugged her and placed his head on her shoulder.

“Talk to me baby”. That’s all she said while running her hand down his back.

“Our franchise is suspended which means we’re not existing since next season”. He admitted to her. She felt the wet spot on her arm, but she didn't care about it. “I don’t even know if I’m gonna play hockey next season. Every club has good players on my position. I don’t want to retire in the age of 26, there’s still so many things I want to achieve”. She pushed herself from him to look at him. She grabbed Clayton’s face in her hand and kissed his lips.

“Baby, you’ll be playing next season. Stop doing this to yourself. You are great player, and you’ll find a new club. You won’t be in Arizona anymore, but you’ll stay in NHL. Trust me. This is all new and that’s why you feel this way but there’s gonna be club to take you under their wing”.

Clayton looked at her with love in his eyes. He knew she’s right. He’s good player and he’ll find a new club. He grabbed her waist and pulled her to another hug.

“Thank you. I needed this pep talk. I guess I just started overreacting after hearing the news”.

“That’s why I’m always here for you. Just try not to shut me off. I genuinely thought I did something to piss you off and that’s why you haven’t spoke to me since you got back home”. She laughed. He kissed her passionately.

“You, my love, could never do anything wrong”. He kissed her again. “Now, where are we going on dinner?” He asked.

“I planned to cook something. Why would you want to go out?” She asked confused.

“You deserve to be treated like a princess so we’re going out”. When they were going to the car, to lighten the mood, she joked.

“Besides, without Arizona there’s gonna be 31 clubs which is unpaired. They have to create a new team to make it even”. Clayton laughed when he heard that.

“You’re impossible”.

“Maybe, but you love me for that”. Before he opened her door, he grabbed her cheek and kissed her.

“You don’t even have a clue how much I love you”.

When they’ve moved to Utah (NSFW)

Whole summer, Clayton and his girlfriend spent on moving out from Arizona to Utah. It was stressful time for them because they needed to pack all their years of life into boxes. Both had fun finding out old things and getting all retrospections while looking at them. When the house was empty, they felt sad. All their relationship was moving on from the place where they fall in love.

Despite it, she and Clayton were excited for their new chapter. They started new adventure together in Utah. When they bought new house and stepped in, they sheer a tear. This was the place where they’re gonna be a family. She was the first one to look around. Clayton was going after her like a puppy. He saw how she’s gonna be taking care of her their kids in this place. He could already imagine that.

“So, what do you think?” He asked her.

“I love it. It’s beautiful. Can’t wait to start our new life here”. She said and placed her hands behind his neck. “What do you think?”

“It’s great. I’m so happy that you moved here with me”. He leans down and kissed her. “We need to celebrate this”. He kissed her again.

“Mhm, and what do you have in mind?” She asked knowing exactly what he has in mind.

“Let me show you”. Clayton grabbed her under her knees and took her in bridal style to the bedroom. He placed her on their new bed and started to kiss her.

“Wait”. She pulled out from him, and he looked confused. “We’re celebrating new life thanks to your transfer here so let me do the work”. He smiled at her words.

“And how are you gonna do it?”

“Let me ride you”. She blushed at her words. No matter how many times they had sex or even conversations about it, she was shy.

“Undressed love and I’ll do the same. Later, I’m all yours”. She obeyed his words. He undressed immediately. She took off her shirt and pants. but when she wanted to unclip her bra, he stopped her. He was standing naked in front on her when he reached for the bra clip to take if off. Later, he kneeled in front of her and took off her panties. He placed kisses on her lower stomach.

“Stop teasing babe, I really need your dick in me”. Clayton laughed at her words.

“Someone’s eager”. He kissed her lips and sat on the bed. “Then ride me like you wanted”.

She sat on his thighs and spit on her hand to run it over his dick.

“Now, you stop teasing me or I’ll get my way with you”. He said in serious tone. She grabbed his cock and placed her entry on his. Clayton grabbed her waist and helped her to fully sat on him.

“Fuck, you’re huge Clayton”. He smiled at her words. He hasn’t done anything. Just kept his hands on her waist and let her adjust to his length. When she was ready, she started jumping on him. He took off his hands from her waist and played with her tits. She was moaning his name. When she got little tired, he pulled her to his chest and grabbed her ass to helped her in the movements. She started to kiss his jawline until she moaned again from the new angle.

“Clayton… I’m close”. She said while making hickeys on his collarbone.

“Hold on, I’m almost there love”. He speeds up and soon after he could feel her coming all over his cock. He thrusted couple more times and cum in her pussy.

She fell on his chest tired. Clayton stayed in her and kissed her temple.

“I guess we just christened our new house”. She laughed at his words. He felt that she’s shivering from the cold. “C’mon, let’s take a bath and order some takeaway. The boxes can wait until tomorrow. I love you”. He picked her up and kissed her cheek.

When Clayton had been named a captain

Everything was going smoothly in Utah. Most of Clayton’s teammates were transferred there and he’d been hanging out with them. With his teammates, their partners also came here so she had friends here too. They started new life in new state, but they stayed in the same circle.

When Clayton started trainings with new team, there was still big unknown; who’s gonna be a captain in Utah Hockey Club. Everyone was wondering about it but all their focus was on preparation for upcoming season. Almost every preseason game, Utah played without captain. It changed a week before start of the season.

Day after game against Anaheim, the coach named a first-ever Utah captain. He decided that Clayton is the best option with his knowledge, help and understanding. He was over the moon, grateful for the trust and opportunity. In Arizona, he had been alternate captain but now, he was the leader of this ship.

When Clayton returned to their house, he saw her laying on the couch, watching a tv show. He dropped his luggage and laid on top of her.

“Get off me”. She said giggling at his affection. “What’s with you babe? Had a good trip?” She asked curious about what he’s gonna say to her.

 “Two wins and two lost games but that’s not important”. He gets off her and stand up next to his girlfriend.

“Okay, now you’re scaring me”.

“I’ve been named a captain”. Clayton announced proudly to her. When she heard that, she screamed from joy and throw herself into his arms. He caught her trying not to fall at the coffee table behind them.

“I’m so fucking proud of you babe. Oh my gosh, this is huge. I… I don’t know what to say”. She looked into his eyes. He saw the tears coming down her cheeks, so he dried them off with his thumb.

“Thanks love but…” He looked at her with serious expression. “What if I fail them?”

“Stop. You’re the right person on the right place. You’ve already been a captain in Arizona, and you did great”.

“Alternate captain”. Clayton corrected her.

“Still a captain. Look, I get it that you’re scared that you might fail them, but you have coaches and team behind your back. You’re not alone in this. You’ve proved yourself in the past 8 years. You’re great player but most importantly you’re intelligent and you know what you’re doing. You know those guys very well and they trust you. You’re not gonna fail. Not on my watch”. She kissed him.

“Thank you. I needed those words. I don’t know what I would done without you”.

“That’s why I’m here, to help you and support you”.

“Oh, I love you”. He kissed her and hugged her like his life depended on it.

“I love you too captain”.

When she found out that she’s pregnant

She had been feeling sick when Clayton left on a roadie, but she didn’t wanted to bother him. She was certain that it was just food poisoning. When Utah was playing against New York Rangers, she invited other girlfriends to her and Clayton’s house to watch the game. Soon after, game was forgotten, and they had a girl’s night.

She refused to drink wine with them, and questions started floating about pregnancy. She explained that she feels sick and that’s why she doesn’t want to drink but other girls tried to convince her to take the test. At first, she was skeptical, but she knew she has nothing to waste. The next day, she went to the pharmacy to buy pregnancy test.

Sitting in the bathroom and looking at it, she got scared. She knew it’s a bad timing for them to have a kid. They just moved to their new house. She was searching for a new job and Clayton just became a captain. She took a deep breath and took the test.

The next three minutes went super slow. Her mind was floating around. When she grabbed the test, she saw that it’s positive. She started to cry but didn’t know if it’s from happiness or sadness.

She and Clayton always dreamt about having kids, but they wanted to wait until they’re married. They haven’t even been engaged. Will Clayton be happy? What if he leaves her? She started to have all the dark scenarios in her head. She didn’t want to break the news to him on the phone. She hasn’t even said to him that she’s sick because she was confident that he’s gonna freak out.

When Clayton returned from roadie, he immediately knew that something is off with his girlfriend. She haven't came to welcome him, and the house was dead silent. His steps lead him to their bedroom. When he opened the door, he saw her sitting in the middle of their bed biting her nails, habit she had, when she was nervous.

“Hey, hey, hey. It’s okay”. Clayton approached her, grabbing her hands and placing them down.

“No, it’s not okay”. By her voice, he knew she was crying.

“Tell me what’s wrong”. She took a deep breath.

“I’m pregnant”. She whispered. Her head was looking down, she hasn’t had the bravery to look into his eyes.

“Love, that’s a great news”. He grabbed her under the chin, so she was looking at him. “We wanted to have kids. Why are you sad about it?”

“It’s the timing. I don’t have a job; you are a captain. We just moved here. It’s all happening too fast”.

“Maybe fact that you don’t have a job is a good thing. You can stay at home and rest while you are growing new life. You know that money is not a problem. I know that this might look like a bad timing, but we can do it. Together. I’m not leaving you alone in this. We can handle it”. He said and hugged her. He was over the moon by the news, but her reaction scared him. “But if you don’t want to have a kid now, I’ll be fine with that. It’s your body so you’ll decide. Although, I’m willing to be part of this adventure with you”.

“I want this kid but… I don’t know. I guess I freaked out”.

“We’re a team love. I’m here for you”. He kissed her.

“We’re gonna be parents. This sounds insane”.

“True, but I’m excited for the new journey, especially with you by my side”.

“I love you Clayton”. She kissed him deeply.

“I love you too future mommy”. He joked and kissed her back.

---

Thanks for reading❤️