#my one toenail is still all fucked up

[roylustang]

You know I definitely fucked up pacing the race by getting a 50 mile PR in the middle of running 100 miles but I WILL say I’m pretty proud of the fact I ran 50 miles essentially without stopping

[gojoest]

BURDEN and REVERENCE — gojo satoru

MDNI, pregnancy freak!satoru, f!reader, established relationship (married + reader is expecting), pregnancy, lots of pet names (love, pretty one, baby, sweetness, my beautiful wife), fingering, humping, cumming in pants (<- hinted), wc: 1.5k, not proofread, dividers by @/cafekitsune

what your fingers can’t, your husband’s will ;)

“Stupid Satoru”, with a shaky breath you mumble under your nose. “It’s all because of you—", you whine to yourself.

Grabbing onto the sink in the bathroom with one hand to support yourself, you desperately try to make the other one work its way (and magic) between your legs, albeit ineffectively.

You can’t properly reach down and take care of yourself now — courtesy of the swollen belly that your very husband brought upon you. No matter how much you bend and shift, your baby bump is still in the way. Your fingers alone prove unable to make it to the spots in you that are itching to be touched right now.

“Stupid, idiot, bastard— “

“I love you too”, a familiar voice reaches your ears — the words are spoken with a smile that’s imbued itself in the timbre of it. “You look beautiful”

A sigh breaks past your lips. “In distress? — Sure”

Your husband — and the father of your unborn child, Gojo Satoru — stands tall at the bathroom entrance, looking at you with lovesick eyes, admiring your naked body with reverence. “I’m sorry”, he breathes.

It is not an apology for being late though.

Times like this one are the raw example of the changes he had forced on your body.

There are certain things you can no longer do by yourself now that your belly’s grown quite a bit, or you can — but at the cost of great discomfort, you must admit. Tying your shoelaces, reaching certain parts of your body when you shower that require you to bend down, or when you try to get off on your own — all those innocuous activities have suddenly become quite the challenge now with his baby growing inside you.

At times like this, you need him — and he is more than happy to help and serve you.

Truth be told, he bears a little bit of guilt for burdening you like this, but it is a guilt that he likes to let plague his conscience…

…because he’s completely enamored with this state of you — pregnant, swollen with his seed that is blooming in your womb like a flower, the you that is reliant on him to wash your feet, to rub your ankles, to paint your toenails, to fuck your depths your fingers can’t reach — now those are the parts of your body only he has access to; not even you.

You need him, and he loves that.

Slowly rolling his sleeves up, he inches closer to you. “Let me take care of you, my love”

To him, you look so beautiful in your naked glory on display. Leaned against the sink with a hand between your thighs, your swollen breasts like two open hands awaiting to be grasped by him, your round belly sticking out towards him — the view alone makes his cock stiffen in a heartbeat. Fuck, he mouths the word. The pressure in his groin is festering, really fast.

You free your hand now, knowing that he’s here to take charge of things, and once before you he takes a hold of it and brings it to his lips. Starting from the knuckles he paints your fingers with tender kisses, licking the remnants of your slick on them. “You should’ve waited for me”, he hums into your hand. “You know I love joining you — don’t keep this from me”, he pouts a little.

“I know, but…”, you knit your brows. “I don’t want to be a burden to you like this, all the time”

Maybe, you’re just having another hormonal episode. Maybe it’s just that, you think, because Satoru’s never given you a reason to feel like you are weighing on him.

Eyes squinting, Satoru tilts his head in confusion. His hips push forward, causing the erection under his slacks to rub against your belly — on purpose, to prove a point. “Do I look burdened to you, pretty one?”

You chuckle. A-ha— point proven, you see. “That looks like a huge burden if you ask me” — your remark drags a short laugh out of him.

“Mind if I share some of it with you then?”, he grins smugly.

“You say some of it, but you really give all of it to me”

“It’s ‘cause you take it so well, baby”

You slap his chest — Ah, what a dickhead — and smile at him.

His lips charge towards you and peck you softly on the forehead. “You are never a burden to me”, he whispers against you before he slowly starts to drag his body down — on his knees, in front of you. Kissing every inch of you along the way — the tip of your nose, your lips, your chin, the length of your neck, your breasts, your beautiful belly... “Sometimes I fear that I am the one burdening you — with my freakish desire of you, all the time”

“So you admit to being a freak”, you ruffle his hair softly as his cheek remains pressed against your baby bump. “You flatter me too much”

“No — I revere you”, he gazes up at you, his lips longingly kissing the skin on your belly as he takes both of your hands into his and places them on his shoulders. “Here — hold on, and relax your thighs”, his hands travel down between the plush of your legs and slide them open like they’re curtains. Your nails dig into his clothed flesh, earning a low hiss from him.

“Stay like this for me, love — stay open for me to reach you” — soft pecks on the flesh that separates his lips from his unborn follow each word that seeps from his mouth, as if to ease you into his finger prodding at your slit along with his thumb rubbing tender circles on your sensitive clit. His other hand rested against the bottom of your belly.

“Satoru”, you moan softly — but demandingly — at his touch. Clenching your cunt to try and suck him in — and you do, although not entirely. You force just about the tip of his finger into you. “I am ready”

…and you’re impatient, he smiles.

His middle finger tardily inches into you, urging his cock to twitch under his pants at your warmth and at the wetness soaking into his skin. Fuck, he curses quietly under his breath — his hips involuntarily buck forward with need, his clothed bulge pressing itself on the lower of your limb; he is humping your leg like a dog.

Fuck, he must be a sorry sight for you right now — he thinks. And here you are, being groundlessly anxious about burdening him… With what exactly? Have you ever seen a dog burdened by its owner? Isn’t it the other way around? — he ponders, while his finger sinks deeper into you.

“More, ‘Toru…”, you whimper. “Want m-more..”

Grunting at the way your muscles contract around his finger, Satoru slides it in further — repeatedly reaching in as far as possible, curling and drawing back. “More what, baby?”, he coos. “More depth—“, he rams his finger in, causing you to jolt and squeeze your hands harder around his shoulders, mouth hung open, voiceless and unable to even gasp. “Or more fingers?” — he pulls away, only to push back two of them in.

You gasp, barely able to draw in a breath of air, thighs squeezing around his hand. His fingers are thick, and they are long. Two of them almost feel like a cock inside you.

“Tell me, love — which one is it?”, innocently he asks, while his fingers maneuver inside you, not so innocently. A self-satisfied look on his face that you want to wipe off with the back of your hand, but all you can muster is a whimper of pleasure washing over you.

“Oh? Is it both, baby?”, he continues coaxing you smugly. “Is this how you were trying to fuck yourself? Is that it, baby? Am I doing it right for you, sweetness?”

“Fuck, S-satoru—“, you cry. Moving your hips in sync with his fingers, your round belly hits his face with each motion, clawing low grunts from his throat and desperate humps around your leg as he slides his throbbing bulge up and down on it. He was soaking his pants by now, but you were his sole focus. He’d clean his mess later, with you in the shower — but still, by grinding on you like a dog he wanted to let you know the effect you were having on him.

“I am, baby — I am fucking you”, he croons like a sweet addition to the squelching noises of your sopping pussy. “Cum on my fingers, my love. My beautiful wife — cum on your husband’s fingers”, his glazed digits pumping harder, hammering into you fast and filling the bathroom with echoes of labored breathing and loud smacks of his hand against your soaked cunt.

“C-cuming” — you manage to utter through rapid breaths, pussy pulsing and your walls grabbing more at his fingers as the wave of pleasure washes over you.

Your hands relax their grip and hug around his neck as you look at him with weary eyes, lips panting heavily still. “What a good girl”, he speaks to you. “Now come—”, his hand retreats from your folds, causing you to slightly flinch as he pulls away from your sore, sensitive cunt, “Let me clean you up, and maybe — burden you a little”

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Steve was lying on the floor of Robin's room, his back against the wall as he let Robin paint his toenails while he flipped through one of her magazines. The radio played softly in the background.

"I am totally new to having a girlfriend, and by girlfriend, I mean platonic girlfriend," Robin said.

"Well, that's one thing we got in common, I don't think I've ever had a girl who's just a friend," Steve said.

"What about Perkins?" Robin asked.

"She doesn't count, I hated her. She's the reason Tommy became such an asshole," Steve said.

"Hm, yeah," Robin said and paused. "So, how close were you and Tommy?"

"Well, we were friends since we were eight. We pretty much bonded over the fact that we both had assholes for fathers. We shared everything and told each other everything. He told me about his first crush, and I told him about my first crush. We practiced kissing, practiced having sex, and when I got first kiss, I told him immediately," Steve said.

"Woah, woah, woah! Back it up!" Robin exclaimed, and she closed the nail polish. "What the fuck do you mean you practiced kissing and having sex with Tommy Hagan?"

"Exactly what it means," Steve said, rolling his eyes. "We hadn't gotten girlfriends yet, and we wanted to get good before we did. It doesn't mean anything. We like women, so it didn't count."

"It still counts!" Robin shrieked. "Did you or did you not put your lips on Tommy's?"

"Yeah, and I also let Tommy put his dick in my ass. I was basically his pillow," Steve said as he continued to casually flip through the magazine. "It doesn't count if you're not gay, Robin."

"It doesn't work like that! Steve Harrington, the first time you had sex was with Tommy Hagan!" Robin exclaimed.

"It was not!" Steve exclaimed, throwing down the magazine.

"Was too!" She yelled.

"Was not!" Steve yelled.

"Okay! So, let's say if I kissed you right now. . .," Robin said.

"Wouldn't count as your first kiss, you're a lesbian and I'm straight," Steve said.

Robin grinned, a manic look in her eye. She pulled her hand back and slapped Steve across the face. He screamed.

"Didn't count! I'm a lesbian and you're straight!" Robin yelled.

"Okay, okay, I see your point. Jesus, did you have to hit me so hard?" Steve asked, rubbing his red cheek.

"Yeah, dingus, I did," Robin said.

"Okay, so my first kiss was with Tommy, and I lost my virginity. We're not gay, though," Steve said.

"No, just desperate and very horny teenagers, apparently," Robin rolled her eyes. "I can't believe you had gay sex before me, and you're not even gay. I bet you pictured some blond with big boobies."

"Well, no, actually," Steve shrugged.

"Hm, what do you mean?" Robin asked.

"I didn't have to picture a woman. I liked it," Steve shrugged.

"You liked it?!" Robin asked.

"Well, I am a man, Robin," Steve said.

"Uh, except not every man likes it when another man rams it up his asshole," Robin said. "Okay, I kind of wish I had been more delicate about this, but I didn't know this was you being in denial kind of situation."

"I'm straight, Robin, I like women," Steve said.

"Yeah, and did you know that you can like men and women?" Robin asked.

"What?" Steve asked.

Robin smiled and got up to pull out a box from underneath her bed. She pulled out a magazine and tossed it at Steve.

"Read it, study it, learn from it," Robin said.

Steve looked at it quizzically for a moment before opening it. He stared at it for the longest time before finally closing it.

"I am an idiot," Steve said.

"No, you're not. You just didn't know," she said softly.

"Bisexual," Steve whispered, and then he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Oh my god, this whole time, I thought I lost my virginity to Chrissy Cunningham."

"Chrissy Cunningham?" Robin asked.

"Uh, we used to hang out all the time before she started dating Jason Carver," Steve said. "Our parents ran in the same circles."

"Well, you know, I guess you could say you lost your guy virginity to Tommy Hagan and your girl virginity to Chrissy Cunningham," Robin said.

"Yeah, that's true," Steve grinned. "Thanks, Robin, and especially thank you for giving me that slap. I definitely needed it."

"Anytime that you want me to hit you, I'm your woman," Robin replied.

They moved towards Robin's window sill and sat on it, opening a window to get some fresh air.

"You know this means that I'm not straight," Steve said.

"Something else we have in common," she said.

"You ever wonder how many out there who are like me and who just don't know?" he asked as he looked up at the moon. "Here in Hawkins, I mean."

"Probably a lot more than we think," Robin said. "And they're out there, sitting in their closets wondering if they're ever going escape themselves or be rescued."

"Isn't crazy how we found ourselves?" Steve said.

"Maybe queer people just end up finding each other," Robin said.

"Well, maybe they'll find their way out themselves," Steve said and then he looked her, hazel eyes twinkling in the moonlight. "Seriously, Robin, thank you."

"You did that yourself, you know, you just needed a nudge. I mean, you could have told me to go fuck myself and continued to live in denial," Robin said. "You're a lot smarter than you give yourself credit for."

Steve smiled bashfully and glanced back at the moon. He looked at her, with tears in his eyes.

"Is it possible to be platonically in love with someone?" he asked.

"I think anything is possible," she said. "I think it's a definite because I know that I'm absolutely, platonically in love with you."

They dangled their feet out the window and leaned against each other, Steve resting his head on top of Robin's.

"I wish I'd known you sooner," he whispered.

"I wish I'd known you sooner, too," she whispered back.

They were here now, though, and absolutely nothing could get in between them.

Part Two

[worldume]

…..WHAT DO YOU MEAN PHONE SEX?!

˖┊ spotlight: sakura haruka.

˖┊ synopsis: sakura would have never thought this new life would bring him everything that it did: friends, new found family, a sense of belonging— a girlfriend he’s in love with. a hot girlfriend who he jerks his cock to nearly every night, fantasizing about the day he finally has the courage to sink his cock in her. but that takes baby steps, right?

˖┊ content: masturbation, phone sex, assigned female at birth reader, reader also has she/her pronouns, love bites and hickeys, reader has the wonyoung effect, all characters are 18 and over.

˖┊ word count: 4.5k.

sakura laid on his back, pretty mismatched eyes gazing up at the ceiling— unfocused. his chest heaved with each heavy breath, sweat glistening on his forehead and dampening his tousled hair. he felt the adrenaline slowly ebb away, replaced by a sense of weariness as he lazily shifted his gaze downward, staring at his hand. he couldn’t be bothered to scoff at himself this time, he’s too fucked out right now. sakura’s cum is whitish clear as it dripped from his hand, sliding slowly between his slender fingers. the droplets formed rivulets that traced down his skin, stretching into thin threads.

sakura was still a guy at the end of the day really. he’s had his hand wrapped around his cock milking himself countless times but instead of the naughty magazines he would use before, you’re now his favorite.. inspiration. no, seriously. just the thought of that precious little face of yours is enough to get sakura hard as a fucking pole. he’s surprised actually— not for any other reason than his thoughts alone are enough for him. there’s no need for porn, magazines, or a fleeting touch from a woman that smelled good earlier in the day… yeah, times were rough.

sakura’s post nut clarity was abruptly interrupted by the sudden shrill ring of his phone. the sound pierced the heavy silence, startling him. “ah— shit.”

with a groan he pushed himself up from the bed, feeling the thin sheets shift under his movements. he reaches for the phone and glanced at the caller ID before sighing, sandwiching the device between his shoulder and ear— the cool screen pressing against his flushed cheek.

“yeah.” he answers as he fumbles to wipe his hand off with the kleenex beside his bed, feeling it smear slightly. the motion was hurried and somewhat clumsy. his voice still thick with breathlessness, sounding rough and low when he finally answered. the word came out almost as a sigh.

“hi, baby! you’re coming out tonight, right?” god— your voice was so sweet it made him feel a severe case of cute aggression. which often led to frustration because he didn’t know what exactly to do with himself.

“where?”

“the beach party? choji and togame extended an invitation to bof—”

“hell no.” as sakura continued the call, he got up and made his way to the kitchen. his hand scratched his toned belly, the phone still sandwiched between his shoulder and ear.

“those pricks are still lame to me..” he opened the fridge door, the cool air hitting his warm skin as he peered inside. with one hand he started rummaging through the contents, pushing aside half-empty containers and expired leftovers. “and you shouldn’t be goin’ neither, way too many freaks gonna be ooglin’ at you in a bikini..” of course you didn’t see but there was a faint blush on his cheeks. the faint hum of the refrigerator filled the background, mingling with the muffled voice on the other end of the line. it took sakura a long time to express his feelings but expressing his jealousy and possessiveness over you seemed to be the easiest.

he reached for a bottle of water, the condensation slick under his fingers as he twisted the cap off.

“then who’s supposed to be my date?” you asked through a pout. you were on the other end painting your toenails, looking down at them with a tilted head as if you weren’t sure about the color.

“—wh—!” sakura nearly spits out his water. “you— you don’t need a date.. it’s a party.”

“yeah but it would be nice, haru.” you say, finding yourself getting a little bit frustrated with him. you twist the cap closed on the polish. “but, if you really don’t wanna go it’s okay— i’ll probably ask kiryu to be my date for the night.”

“he’s going?” his expression was a mix of reluctance and resignation, eyes narrowed slightly in thought.

“of course, mostly everyone from bofurin is— umeee, tsubakiii, hiragi, suo, nirei, even kaji! but i suspect choji told him there would be sweets..”

“suo and nirei..? i didn’t think those fuckers were serious about going to a pool party.” he thought to himself.

see, sakura is actually pretty cute because he takes dates very seriously. you’re his first girlfriend— his first big boy relationship and the thought of someone else being your plus one at the party made his blood boil. a low growl of frustration almost escaped his lips as he clenched his jaw, his possessiveness surfacing.

“alright.. what time should I pick you up?” he asked.

5:45 PM

as the sun began its descent, it casted a wild golden glow across the sand and sea. the sky was painted in fiery hues of orange, pink, and purple, the colors blending as the sun dipped lower on the horizon. the sound of crashing waves was drowned out by the rowdy laughter and shouts of the partygoers.

a massive bonfire roared nearby— flames leaping high and casting flickering shadows on the faces gathered around it. makeshift torches and string lights rigged between palm trees, colorful beach towels and blankets were spread out haphazardly and tables groaned under the weight of a spread of various food and drinks. the scent of grilled meat mixed with the unmistakable tang of alcohol.

people were scattered across the beach in various activities. a heated volleyball game was underway, with players diving and shouting with abandon. others were plunging into the cool water while other groups lounged on the sand. some smoking, others downing beers as music blasted from a portable speaker.

you and sakura stepped onto the sand, your fingers interlaced with his in a warm grip. you looked cheerful and happy, eyes sparkling as you greeted everyone with genuine smile. each person you passed greeted you with wide grins and waves— but your popularity wasn’t something new. you were known to be a very sweet and extremely beautiful girl, so much so that the crushes many harbored for you were still full in effect.

sakura on the other hand wore his signature scowl, his eyes scanning the crowd with wariness and annoyance. his jaw was set and his posture was tense— he wasn’t the party kind of guy so he said but this is sakura we’re talking about. emotionally constipated and stubborn. he didn’t like anything if we’re being honest.

as you scanned the crowd, you spotted two of your closest friends and called out excitedly, “nirei! suo!”

they turned towards you, their faces lighting up. “hi, (name)..!” nirei called back, grinning widely.

“it’s nice to see you, (name),” suo added with a smile.

you approached them and placed both of your hands on each of their jaws, giving them both quick kisses on the cheek. nirei blushed slightly his eyes darting away shyly, though he couldn’t hide his smile. suo on the other hand, closed his eyes and leaned into the gesture, clearly enjoying the affectionate greeting.

“you got the grump outside, good job,” suo remarked, glancing at sakura with a smirk.

“watch it.”

“hey?” you squeezed sakura’s cheeks gently and gave him a teasing look. “be sweet. you promised no fussing or fights tonight.”

he sighed, his expression softening slightly. “yeah, yeah,” he muttered, though there was a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

you and sakura walked hand in hand through the party while the atmosphere buzzed with laughter and music. nirei and suo followed closely chatting animatedly as you searched for a spot to settle down. on the way you all ran into some familiar faces, chatting with them until eventually, you found a cozy area near the bonfire, away from the thickest crowds but still within earshot of the music.

sakura spread out a large beach towel while nirei and suo laid down blankets and set their bags beside them. the four of you arranged yourselves comfortably, the bonfire casting a warm glow around you all as the sun dipped lower on the horizon.

you were starting to feel the evening’s warmth settling around you and the fabric of your swimsuit cover up was feeling stifling against your skin. you glanced at sakura, who was focused on setting up the towels, giving him a little smile. “he’s not doing so bad”— you think suo and nirei being there is helping him feel a little bit more comfortable. you stood and absentmindedly began to peel off your cover-up, revealing the sleek lines of your swimsuit underneath. the movement was natural to you, but little did you realize the effect it had on sakura.

his eyes widened slightly as he glanced up, catching you in the act. his breath caught in his throat, the sight of you subtly revealing yourself was stirring something within him. you continued to undress, folding the cover up with this casual grace that was almost infuriating, unaware of the sensual energy you exuded.

sakura’s gaze followed your movements, admiring the curve of your back and the play of light on your skin. his heart raced, his thoughts momentarily lost in the allure of your presence. he cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure, but couldn’t help but feel a rush of desire. shit, this was bad— at this rate he’d be hard.

you turned to him with a smile, completely oblivious as you settled down on the towel beside him. kind pisses him off.

“what’s the matter cutie pie?” you asked sweetly as you reached over to cup his cheeks with your soft hand. He gives you a haphazard scoff as you giggle, leaning over to place a kiss on his lips.

“what’d i tell ya about callin’ me that stuff in front of the guys..” he mumbles under his breath, hoping that the two beside them wouldn’t hear but unfortunately they’re trying their hardest to not blow a lung from holding in their laughter. a small “pfft” is what ultimately set sakura off— making him lung for whoever he could grab first. poor thing.

7:23 PM

by now the moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow over the beach. laughter and music filled the air, but for you and sakura the world seemed to narrow to just the two of you. you guys waded into the gentle waves, the cool water lapping at your ankles before rising to your waists until you were both completely submerged into the water.

you wrapped your legs around his waist, arms encircling his neck in a koala hug. the warmth of his skin against yours was a nice contrast to the cool and salty ocean. droplets of seawater clung to both of your skin, glistening in the moonlight like tiny little diamonds. each time you two moved, the water would ripple and splash, sending cool beads sliding down their bodies. sakura's hands were firm on your back, fingers tracing the delicate curve of your spine, sending shivers through you despite how warm his touch always seemed to feel. sakura always had a boyish charm to him because of his temperament but.. it was moments like this where he gave you butterflies, made you feel like a blushing schoolgirl again.

you both could feel each other's heartbeats, steady and synchronized, creating a rhythm that seemed to match the rise and fall of the waves. you nuzzled into the crook of sakura's neck, breathing in the salty scent of the sea mixed with his familiar, comforting scent. your cheeks brushed and could feel the firmness of his jawline, something in you growing a bit primal. maybe it was the alcohol talking but you wanted him to feel something.

your breath quickened and you could feel the heat rising within yourself. you pulled back slightly, just enough to look into sakura's eyes. they were dark but inviting, filled with the same unspoken longing that you felt too. you wondered if sakura knew the effect he had on you— you wondered if he also stayed up late hours of the night touching himself to the thought of being inside of you. you weren’t a virgin, you hadn’t been for a while but you knew that sakura was. he didn’t have to explicitly state it, you could see it in the way he carried himself. the way he blushes at every little act of affection, the way he fumbles his words when you do things that are just mildly suggestive— it made you feel like a pervert but you knew he had so much cum to give you wrapped in a little bow.

without thinking you leaned in, lips brushing against the sensitive skin of his neck. you could feel the pulse of his heartbeat beneath your lips, strong and steady. he tensed against you and you couldn’t see it but his brows were forming into a furrow as your teeth grazed his skin lightly at first, testing, teasing. 

“w—what’re you doin’?” sakura's hands tightened on your back, a silent encouragement was all you needed— the primal urge in you grew stronger, an almost overwhelming need to claim him, to leave a mark that would signify sakura is yours.

you didn’t know if it was possessiveness, greediness? it didn’t matter— biting down gently on his neck, just enough to leave a small, distinct mark. the taste of salt and the faint metallic tang of his skin mingled on your tongue as you felt him shudder beneath you, a low groan escaping his lips. “that— fuck.”

you pulled back slightly to admire your handiwork, a small, reddish imprint on his neck. sakura's eyes met hers again, dark with desire and yearning.

“keep going.” sakura said— it sounded like an order, but there was a.. desperation hidden somewhere in there. just beneath his surface. almost as if he was scared you were going to stop.

you pressed your lips back to his neck but this time you found a new spot just below his ear. you began to suck gently, using your tongue to tease the sensitive skin. your tongue lapped in a delicious way— lips wrapping around his skin as you applied more pressure— sucking him, as blood rushed to the surface, creating a deep, purplish hue. you shifted slightly to get a better angle, teeth grazing his skin just enough to make him bite down on his lip. you could feel the rise and fall of his chest, his breath hitching with each swipe of your tongue, each pull of your teeth.

sakura was hard. you could feel it but he was hoping you couldn’t. he’s never felt quite like this before— even this sensation right now was admittedly better than anything his hand could ever provide. he knew why guys liked girls; they were soft, pretty and smelled like flowers or sweets but this.. was he really missing out on this for so long? 

2:56 PM

the aroma of simmering broth filled the air as sakura, suo, nirei, kiryu, tsugue, and sugishita— sat around a hot pot table, eagerly tossing in vegetables, meats, and noodles. the clatter of chopsticks and the hum of conversation created the typical sunday night vibe they were usually always going for, but sakura found himself drifting in and out of the chatter, lost in thought.  

he stared into the bubbling pot, the events of last night replaying in his mind— his cheeks flushing slightly as he remembered the feel of your lips and the marks you had left on his skin. his friends’ laughter and banter seemed distant, a background noise to his thoughts.

suddenly, without thinking, he blurted out, “are you guys virgins?”

the table fell silent. all five of them froze, chopsticks hovering in mid-air, their expressions shifting from surprise to shock, then to barely suppressed laughter. nirei was the first to break the silence, nearly choking on a piece of tofu with a furious blush on his cheeks— he wasn’t good at that kind of stuff either. all his knowledge came from sex education books and his incognito tab so he was pretty much useless to the conversation. “where did that come from so suddenly?!”

tsugue laughed so hard he almost knocked over his drink, tears forming at the corners of his eyes. “you're seriously asking us that? right now?”

suo raised an eyebrow and leaned back in his chair, a grin playing on his lips. “this is a first. you’ve really outdone yourself, sakura. what is it? you and (name) are getting pretty serious, huh?”

kiryu leaned forward, grinning. “ah~ ♡ alright, alright. calm down, everyone. our saku-chan is finally growing up.” he chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “i’ll bite. why the sudden interest? something happen last night~?”

sakura’s blush deepened, and he stammered, “no! i-i was just thinking about.. things. you know, with (name). i just wanted to know!” he caught a glimpse of sugishita giving him a weird look he wasn’t too fond of. “don’t give me that look, asshole!”

suo crossed his arms, a warm closed eyed smile on his face. “well, for what it’s worth, experience isn’t everything. it’s about connection, trust, and being comfortable with each other. that’s what really matters.”

kiryu nodded in agreement. “yeah, and take it slow.. don’t rush things because you feel like you have to reach some milestone. if you care about each other, everything else will fall into place.”

tsugue chimed in, “and if you need tips on how to not ruin the moment, just remember this conversation. we’ll remind you of it, man.”

“shut up! i was only curious!”

“well, since yer askin’, i'll give ya some real advice.” tsugue leaned over the table with his elbow propping up his weight. “start out with some phone sex.”

so nodded in agreement. “hm, that isn’t a bad way to ease into it— it's a good way to build up intimacy without the pressure of being physically together. plus, it can be quite attractive.”

kiryu was still grinning when he added, “yeah, knucklehead is actually right this time, saku-chan. t's a good way to explore what you both like.. aaaannd~ it sounds like you’re already halfway there, if your random question is anything to go by.” he chuckled.

“and the two big mosquito bites on your neck..” sugishita mumbled with an eye roll.

sakura blinked, taken aback. “p-phone sex..?”

kiryu nodded. “yeah.. it's.. less intimidating and it can help you get comfortable with each other’s boundaries.. just let it happen. and maybe don’t overthink it too much— like you have the tendency to do.”

“i do not!” sakura barked, crossing his arms with a heavy blush on his face. “just drop it— nothing’s goin’ on, i was just—”

“curious?” suo tilted his head and offered sakura a smile. “its okay, we’re not here to judge you. but you make it so hard not to poke a little bit of fun.”

“yeah, yeah.. lets eat.”

out of the five at the table, 3/5 had their cherry picked. can you guess which three?

11:11

sakura lay on his bed, the cool breeze from the open window rustling the curtains. his phone was pressed to his ear, and on the other end, your voice warmed his ear. you guys had been chatting about your days, sharing the small details. like how you went shopping that day and picked up a new perfume and got the refill on your nails you had been wanting for a few days now. sakura didn’t know what half of this stuff was until he started dating you and now he looks forward to picking your next nail set or seeing what the very slight change you made to your hair that makes a world of a difference for you.

“yeah, i’m sure it’ll look okay– a middle part won’t make you look ‘weird.’” he rolls his eyes— he doesn’t know why you worry over little things like that. he’s never seen you look bad a day in your life. 

“it can! that’s like your black hair where your white is and vice versa! i was too nervous to try it at the party so i did it how i usually do it.” you said through a small pout.

“yeah, speaking of— it’s been almost a week and those shitty marks you left are still dark. they’re teasing me about it,” he grumbled in his usual fussy tone, adjusting onto his pillow as he props his head up onto his forearm. He finds himself looking back up at the ceiling.

you giggled, your laughter like a melody to his ears. “you weren’t complaining when i was doing it.”

sakura huffed, his blush deepening. “that’s not the point! suo and kiryu have been relentless. they won’t let it go.”

“oh, come on, it’s not that bad,” you teased. “besides, they’re just jealous because i~ got to mark you first.”

“psh, whatever.”

there was a small pause.

“so,” your voice dropped to a softer, more intimate tone— but you almost sounded worried, “do you really mind the marks? you can be honest..”

sakura hesitated for a moment, his heart pounding a little faster. he panics a little actually, he doesn’t want you to get the wrong idea “no!” he coughs before lowering his voice a bit. “i.. i don’t mind,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “liked it, actually.. made me feel.. close to you. or whatever.”

you smiled on the other end, your own heart swelling. “you reacted so cutely~”

sakura felt a warm flush spread from his cheeks down to his chest. that all too familiar feeling of his cock starting to jump. “..you’re really good at making me feel things, y’know that?"

“good things, i hope?” your voice was playful but still sincere.

“yeah,” he replied, his voice growing softer, more breathless as he felt more blood rushing from his head to his cock. “really good things.” the outline of his shaft was getting more and more prominent by the second.. he just can’t stop thinking about.. you. everything about you. it's all so alluring; your smell, how soft your skin is, how sweet your voice is— how your lips felt against his skin, sucking him. he can’t help but to reach down to palm himself— his chest starting to rise and fall visibly.

there was a brief pause, filled with the gentle sound of their breathing. you broke the silence, tone even more intimate. “sakura?”

“yeah?”

“are you touching yourself?” you ask, your voice is so soft— it makes sakura feel like it's okay to tell you the truth. but you almost sound amused.. it makes him wonder if it’s really that obvious.

his heart raced. “yeah,” he confessed. “i.. keep fuckin’ replaying it in my head.. you touchin’ me, felt good.”

“sakura,” your voice was a soft murmur, “i can almost feel you here with me..” he hears your voice crack.

sakura swallowed hard, his breath hitching slightly. “what’re you doin’?”

your breath was warm in his ear, even over the phone. “rubbing my clit..”

sakura’s hand grasps at his shaft through his boxers, almost like he’s telling it to stop. “fuck,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion. “that’s so hot. it feel good?”

“it feels really good.. but i wish to your cock instead..” you said. Sakura's almost taken back from how easily the filth leaves your mouth— that sweet voice.. it almost doesn’t fit. his breathing gets deeper, his hand trembling slightly as he reaches for the waistband of his boxers, hesitating for a moment.

“are you still with me?” you ask, voice was a soothing presence in his ear.

“yeah,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. “i’m here.” sakura pushes down his boxers, feeling the soft fabric glide over his skin. he slides the boxers down to the thickest part of his thighs, the sensation cooling as the air finally hits the sensitive skin on this cock, specifically the leaky tip making him shiver.

he wrapped his fingers around his cock, feeling its warmth and hardness in his hand. his grip was firm, the sensation immediately sending a jolt of pleasure through him. he started with slow, deliberate strokes, his hand moving up and down the length of his shaft. each movement was accompanied by a soft gasp as he savored the feeling. When he does this by himself it never feels this good— he’s fucking shaking.

“mmgh—! sakura..” you lay on your bed, the phone pressed to your ear as you listen to Sakura’s ragged breaths— his voice alone was enough to make you ache, but knowing what he was doing on the other end of the line made your pulse quicken with need. you started with slow, gentle circles on your clit, your hips bucking slightly against your hand, seeking more friction.

your fingers dipped lower, sliding through your wetness before pushing inside, you moaned softly, the sensation of your fingers filling you a sweet relief but it didn’t feel like enough. you picked up the pace, pumping in and out of yourself as your breath came in shallow, needy gasps.

“keep talking,” he gasped, his voice strained with lust. “i wanna hear you.” sakura's strokes became more rhythmic, his grip tightening. he could feel every ridge and vein beneath his fingers, each tug eliciting a surge of raw, primal desire. his thumb brushed over the sensitive tip, spreading the moisture that had begun to gather there, adding a slickness that intensified the sensation.

your breath hitched again, fingers moving faster. “’m so close, thinking about you touching me.. want to feel your hands on me, your mouth.. i need you to make me come.” your words were punctuated by soft whimpers and moans, each sound pushing sakura closer to the edge. you could hear the intensity of his strokes increasing.

“‘m almost therealmosttherealmost there..!,” you panted, her voice a desperate plea. “please, sakura, need you to come with me..!” with a final breathless cry, you felt her climax wash over you, your body trembling with the intensity of your orgasm. “s–sa–kura!” you gasped, your voice a mix of pleasure and longing.

“fuck. yes.” he groaned, his voice filled with raw pleasure. his breathing grew heavier, each exhale a mix of need and pleasure. the muscles in his arm flexed with each motion, a steady rhythm that drove him closer to the edge. he could feel the tension building in his body, a tight coil of desire that demanded release.

his strokes quickened, his hand moving with a sense of urgency. the friction, the heat, the intensity of his own touch brought him to a fever pitch. he could feel the impending climax, a powerful surge of pleasure that built with every stroke. with a final pull sakura reached his peak. his body tensed, every nerve ending on fire as the orgasm tore through him. his hand continued to move, milking every last drop of pleasure until he was left breathless and spent.

he went limp back onto his bed, feeling the aftershocks of his release, his body tingling with the remnants of pleasure. his hand still loosely wrapped around himself, he lay there, breathing heavily.

“holy shit..” he said breathlessly. you giggle on the other line and he hears a shuffle.

“can i see it~? they’re cute when they’re all soft!”

Incoming facetime call from (Name).

“wha?!”

© all content belongs to worldume 2024. do not, translate, modify or repost to any other platforms.

tag: @eevees-hobbies <3

[3d-wifey]

PLEASE PLEASE I NEED A READER WHO'S JUST AS MUCH OF A FERAL FREAK AS LOGAN JUST IDC WHAT HER MUTATION IS, JUST MAKE IT ANIMALISTIC SO THEY CAN HAVE FREAK NASTY SMUT

Back to the Kitty (Cus She's Kinda Pretty)

Pairing: Logan James "The Wolverine" Howlett x Lynx!reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: smut heehee, uh munch logan supremacy, hybrid au (?), NSFW, NSFT

A/N: This has been my man since 2000 and I was only born in 2004, I'm so happy he's fucking FINALLY GETTING LOVE GOD DAMN. Reader is implied to be black but you can still read it if you aren't, as always. Also, it's been shown in canon again and again that Logan is weak to the whims of a pretty woman, especially early Logan, so dont give me no goddamn lip about this being unrealistic.

Tags: @yvy1s @innercreationflower

Logan stares at the wooden door long after Summers leaves. He scoffs, irritated. Something about the Boy Scout rubs him the wrong way. He rolls his eyes. "Prick."

"I see you've met Scott." Logan spins around, and sees… No one. There couldn't be another telepath rummaging around in his head. Between one blink and the next, a woman appears on what's supposed to be his bed. "He's not so bad once you get to know him. Then again, he's not so good either. He's a real mixed bag."

Logan gapes at the relaxed figure lounging on his bed. His senses snap to attention—your scent is all over his room as if it's always been there.

Your heartbeat is fast but steady. He sniffs. Your scent, cool like snow, makes him nostalgic for the Canadian wilderness. It’s tinged with something familiar—an intrinsic note of his own scent. Something he caught on that Sabertooth freak earlier. Animalistic. 

Feral.

As he takes in your appearance, memories of the wilderness flash through his mind. He'd heard stories about people, people like them living off the grid, protecting wildlife and using their powers to evade detection. Maybe you were one of them. A guardian of the wild, hidden from civilization up till now. Maybe he was too.

"What the hell is going on here?" Logan grits his teeth, sick and tired of surprises. You tilt your head, pointed ears twitching, the black tufts catching his attention.

You're lying on your stomach, facing him. Your knees are bent, ankles crossed and swinging.

"You teleport in here or something?" He takes cautious steps towards you, spotting the sharply curved claws in place of toenails—easy weapons. One good kick could slit his throat.

A mix of gray and beige fur trails up from the front of your feet, all the way up your thighs to disappear past the leg of your shorts. It's the same shade as the hair on your head.

"Nope." You barely acknowledge him, grooming the fur along your forearm like one of those big cats. He lingers on the movement, intrigued. The slight tilt of your head, long pink tongue peaking out as it travels the length of your forearm to your knuckles and then back again, holds his attention. "I've been here the whole time.”

“I would’ve smelled you." 

“But ‘ya didn’t,” you chuckle and it feels like you’re rubbing it in his face.

“That's impossible.” He scoffs, shaking his head. 

Sharp, amber eyes lock onto him, reflective and cat-like. He freezes, instincts on edge, the hair on his nape standing as vertical pupils assess him coolly. 

Logan’s eyes flicker away to the exit—only for a split second. But when he looks back, the bed is empty. He whips around to the door, heart pounding in confusion because it's…it's still closed.

Where—? 

“How the hell—”

His jaw doesn't drop but it's a near damn thing. This is freaky, freakier than the regular freakiness he's come to expect after walking into this school.

"Still here." You purr from behind him, the sound of your voice sending a shiver down his spine. He turns back, and there you are again, lounging like you never moved. He takes a deep breath, trying, and failing, to steady himself. 

"You mind explaining how you're doing that?" He asks, hoping he sounds more annoyed than unsettled. He can tell by the playful glint in your eye that he doesn't. 

“And if I do mind?” You say, but he doesn’t rise to the bait, which is what this all is, he realizes. You smirk. "I told you, boy. I've been here the whole time. Long enough to see you strike out with Jeanie."

Logan scowls more at the mention of Jean than being called ‘boy’. Just what he needs—another reminder of the happy couple. 

But how had he missed you? Jean wasn't that distracting. It gnaws at him. He doesn’t like it, the idea of his senses betraying him.

"Yeah, well, it's not exactly easy getting a read on you when you’re playing hide and seek."

You tilt your head, studying him. "Maybe you’re just not looking hard enough."

"Or maybe…” He steps closer, his instincts screaming at him to stay on guard despite your eyes compelling him to do otherwise. “You're just really good at hiding."

Your eyes meet his, a challenge in your gaze that he's not sure he's the right guy to take on. "Then I guess you'll have to get better at seeking.”

Logan's mind races as he processes the confrontation. He isn't used to feeling off balance, the one on the back foot. Usually, he's the one doing the intimidating, the one making others question their next move. 

But with you, it's different. There's a raw, untamed energy about you that draws him in and sets him on edge at the same time. You're not just another mutant, he knows that much. Like none he's ever met before; you're something more, something savage that mirrors the part of himself he tries to keep under control. The part that craves the hunt, the chase.

He comes to stand near the bed, slowly reaching out to check if you're real or just some kind of projection. You stare up at him, amused, and allow his calloused hand to meet the warm skin of your shoulder.

"I don't understand," Logan mutters and it feels like admitting defeat.

"I didn't want you to see me. So you didn't." You shrug, and even that looks graceful. It takes him a second to get there, but it dawns on him in much the same way your sudden appearance did. Some kind of mental camouflage. Not like prey blending in to hide, but a predator lying in wait before striking.

"But I couldn't even smell you anymore." It's one thing to trick his mind, but it should be impossible to trick his nose. He bares his teeth. "I've had enough of people messing with my head."

You say nothing. Instead, you grin, baring your own teeth right back and revealing elongated canines that glint under the low light. His eyes are drawn to their sharp edges. They're sharper than his own. How easily could you sink them into something? He wagers it wouldn't take much effort at all.

"Down, boy." You cackle, not even doing his ego the service of pretending to be threatened. "Unless you wanna see whose bite is really worse than their bark." You raise a brow at him expectantly.

He scowls, crossing his arms. He's not backing down, but something about this whole encounter is throwing him off. Your self-assuredness is doing something to him, and he's not sure what to make of it.

He regards you warily, taking slow measured steps around the bed. "So… What’s your deal? You’re not a teleporter or a telepath? Great. Then what the hell are you?"

"Hm," You hum deep in your chest, resting your chin on your palm as you track his movements. He figures you aren't gonna maul him in his own room. "Don't worry, your nose isn't failing you," you snort, and his confidence in you not being a telepath drops significantly. "I cloaked myself. Completely. Not even the professor can find me if I don't want him to. I can even trick all that fancy tracking technology. So don't feel too bad."

It's a bunch of smoke and mirrors. Well, it's better than you messing with his head. Impressive too.

"Huh. How 'bout that." He licks his lips and holds out a hand. "Name's Logan."

"I heard." You take his hand in your surprisingly strong grip, turning it palm down instead of shaking it. "I was curious about the new guy. Wanted to see if you'd be worth holding my attention." You drag a feather-light finger along his knuckles, circling them, then rubbing the almost perpetually red divots where his claws are hidden. For whatever reason, he lets you. The barely there touch makes the hair on his arm stand up, fingers twitching in your hold. He only just fights back the desire to lean into it.

"S’that so?" He smirks. "And what do you think now that you've seen me?"

"Well, first impressions, I'm not disappointed." Those stunning eyes rove over him, lingering on the sweatpants he borrowed. He preens under your gaze, understanding Scott even less now. Don't get him wrong, Jean seems like a great girl. But how could he possibly see a woman like you and leave you to your lonesome? Hell, his loss is Logan's gain. Slim couldn't handle you anyway. "But the rest depends."

"On?"

"You. I've been so bored here. Keeping clean, prowling the straight and narrow. What do you say, Logan?" You purr, bringing your free hand up to ghost over his leg, and the muscles in his thigh flex under your touch. "You think you can keep me entertained?"

He arches a brow. "You got a name?" He husks, at some point coming close enough to stand over you.

"No," you reply, his brows furrowing in response. Though he guesses he's got no room to judge. He only knows his name because of his dog tags. "The kids just call me Lynx, for whatever that's worth. Guess it stuck.”

"I can see why." He looks you over, taking you and all your curves in as you rise up to your knees to sit on your haunches. You're wearing a tank. A very thin tank. He can see the shape and heft of your tits, and even though you feel far from cold, he can see the white fabric rubbing against your hard nipples. The name fits you, but Minx would've been his suggestion. "And... What exactly do you do around here? Other than skulking in other people's rooms." He asks, not masking his curiosity.

You pull him onto the bed beside you. He doesn't bounce but the springs squeak under his weight.

He can’t picture you teaching those little brats anything. Maybe you could teach them how to gut a man like a pig, but something tells Logan that might just offend the professor’s sensibilities.

Your top lip pulls up into a snarl, a predator's smile, it draws him in instead of warning him away.

"I'm not too good at the whole guiding the minds of our future thing. For now, I have to hone my powers and learn how to integrate back into proper society." If the wording wasn't enough to tell Logan you're copying Chuck word for word, then the accent you put on does the trick.

Your grip on his hand tightens, pressing a hidden pressure point. Logan’s breath catches as his claws unsheathe, the metallic sound slicing through the air. His eyes lock onto yours, trying to read the intention behind this sudden, intimate maneuver. He smells it instead—musky, semi-sweet—and heat pools low in his stomach, hardening him against his thigh.

You shift, straddling him with feline grace, knees on either side of his hips. His free hand instinctively grips your waist to steady you, though it's clear you don't need his help.

Your long tongue runs along his knuckles—warm, wet, and a little rough. He exhales heavily at the sensation.

His mouth drops open with a pant, watching closely. You trail the muscle up the blades—he shouldn't feel it so viscerally, but he does. He can practically feel the flicks of your tongue in his damn spine—and he smells the rich iron in the air before he sees crimson bleed along his claws.

He can smell you getting wetter too. Whether it's from the blood or the sharpness of his claws is anyone's guess. Logan's hold on you tightens, his hand sliding to your lower back as he pulls you closer, a low growl rumbling in his chest

He watches, fascinated, as your split tongue knits itself back together. It's bizarre, witnessing such rapid healing on someone else. The sight stirs something primal within him.

Blood drips down your chin, a stark contrast against your skin. 

He wants to follow it. So he does, pushing into your space to chase it up your chin and into your mouth.

You gasp, soft and sweet, at the contact, your hands threading through his hair, pulling him closer. Running, thankfully, dull nails along his scalp. The metallic taste mingles with the warmth of your mouth as he kisses you deeply, a groan sitting low in his throat.

The kiss, meanwhile, isn't soft or sweet. It's biting and bitter with the taste of your blood, mixing with his own when you bite his bottom lip, fangs piercing the meat as easily as he predicted they would. It makes his head hazy with some kind of bloodlust. Or maybe just regular lust. The two are more intertwined now than ever before. At least as far as Logan can remember, which admittedly isn't saying much. He's got no idea how to begin separating them and he doesn’t want to.

He doesn’t remember the last time he's tasted blood other than his own. It makes him groan as he squeezes the fat around your hips in a bruising grip—hard enough to make you moan. He knows you can handle it, handle him.

You pull away, a string of pink saliva connecting your lips to his.

Something kicks Logan into gear, and, without really thinking about the movement, he leans back down, his lips brushing against your chin to lap up the rest of the blood.

"You showed me yours; only fair I show you mine." You unsheathe your own claws, as pretty and deadly as you are. They're about two inches long and even sharper than those teeth.

"Now, how the hell did they manage to domesticate a wild thing like you?" In this pristine and civilized place, you stand out even more than he does. For a creature like you, it must be akin to captivity.

You laugh, though it sounds closer to a chuff. "I was out in the wilderness, hiding the lynxes from poachers and loggers." You say, hooking a claw in the zipper of his hoodie and tugging it down, exposing his bare chest and stomach to your exploring hands. "Saved as many as I could. Spent years out there like that."

“And the professor found you?" Logan asks, intrigued despite himself and despite all the blood in his head rushing to his dick.

"Eventually," you nod, a hint of a smirk playing on your lips, what he's beginning to think is their natural state. "But not before a lot of poachers ended up dead, wondering why they couldn't find a single lynx."

"You hid them," Logan says, tilting his head back. You don't hesitate to take the bait, swooping down to stitch your lips to his neck. You bite more than you suck, breaking skin as you go and not letting how fast the wounds disappear deter you from making more. He grunts, bucking hips coaxed by your own.

"You're not the only one hiding out from the metal man." Your lips drag against his skin as you speak. Lips and teeth and tongue and—

"Fuck." He hisses. His hips buck again and you meet the movement head-on, swiveling your hips like you're riding a bull.

Magneto wants you too then, Logan thinks, dazed.

"So what?" He breathes, dragging the both of you further up the bed, "Now you're fighting the good fight for animals and mutants?"

"Something like that. Don't tell Xavier, but it really just came down to Jean and Oruro being more persuasive than that big brute Magneto sent for me."

He laughs. "I can believe it."

"Now," you grind your hips down, hitting the perfect angle, "do you wanna hear my life story, or do you wanna fuck me?" You say with a grunt. And when you put it like that, the choice is pretty fucking clear.

He twists around, switching your position with you on your back and him hovering over you.

You've got a mischievous look in your lidded eyes as you hump each other through your clothes, sinking your nails into his ass. He flinches, thrusting against you hard enough to push you up the bed, and snarls in your face.

You laugh as he flips you onto your stomach and yanks your hips up. Moans sprinkle through when he presses up against your ass, dick grinding into you. He can feel how hot you are through your thin shorts. You're soaked, enough to turn the fabric of his sweats a darker gray.

Just the smell of you is straining the cotton around his dick, he wants—no needs more. So he leans down, gripping your shorts and ripping a hole down the middle, finding you wetter than he imagined.

You gasp, peeking over your shoulder at him, but he's already on the move. 

He mumbles a gruff fuck as he watches your pussy clench around nothing. He goes to pull himself out but thinks of a better idea.

He wants your cunt in his mouth and he tells you as much. You smirk, more fang than gum, and sway your hips side to side, like you're daring him to take what he wants. He does.

He buries his nose in your snatch and takes a whiff, you moan, grinding back against his face, leaving slick on his nose and cheeks. He lets you, encourages it, even, by gripping your hips and growling deep in his chest. Fur soft where his facial hair is rough, sticking in wet peaks from how much your cunt is drooling.

He sticks his tongue out, not as long as yours, but long enough to get the job done as he buries it into you. Coaxing out more slick and cum as your fluttering warmth squeezes him. 

“Logan,” You moan into his pillow, likely leaving it wet with licking and biting, the same way he's planning on leaving the blanket under you wet with your cum. He grinds against the bed, letting his own need build steadily in his gut and up his spine, the animalistic urge to devour you stronger than anything else.

The taste of you, as heady as you smell, settles heavily on his tongue and down his throat as you rock back and forth, twisting and whining like the wild thing you are.

He leans back just enough to take one of your pussy lips into his mouth, sucking as you take in hitching breaths above him, moving to the other side to give it the same treatment, before circling back to your clit.

He spits on your fluttering hole, licking it back up, and spitting again and he almost thinks you came then and there from how loud you get.

Your thighs are shaking and you're wet enough for him to skip to two fingers right away. He pushes his spit, and his scent, deep into you, stretching you around his thick fingers as he bites at the back of your thighs. You arch your back like a, well, like a cat in heat.

He fucks you on his fingers hard enough that your body shakes with each thrust. He feels the rapid build-up inside of you, shaking and fluttering as he mumbles against your clit about how good you taste and smell, how wet you are for him. 

He feels you come as much as he sees it, your body locking up before abruptly loosening. He pets your flank, “Atta girl.” His voice is rougher than before as you twitch. Soaking his fingers as you lazily hump his hand, making little gasps and whines that he would have thought of as wounded if he didn’t feel how tightly your walls are gripping him.

You lift your head, something satisfied yet still challenging in your amber eyes that makes his hands go to pull his pants down, using your slick to stroke himself, and he knows his pillow will be littered with puncture marks from your teeth and claws, the thought is enough to make him twitch in his hand, a bead of pre that he swipes with his thumb.

He pauses before offering his finger to you, knowing he made the right choice of staying here when you wrap plump lips around his thumb, hollowing your cheeks and sucking like it's his dick.

You pull back, just enough to lick the mixture of the both of you off of his palm, mumbling a demand. “Fuck me, Logan.”

And who is he to deny you when you’re looking at him like that? Wet and wild, curves and claws wrapped up in golden fur like a gift, just for him.

He smirks, “Yes, ma’am.”

[sinsandsweetness]

Wellllllll…… I just read one Rec from someone and holy. Stepdad Rick isn’t my thing but still hot. I was thinking what if it was Shane instead. Or Daryl. Sneaking around behind Rick’s back. But ugh, Rick is so hot tho. Decisions decisions. More like Dad’s best friend maybe?

now that’s hot as hell. Idk who Dad would be but best friend trope could work for any combination possible I would think… (all of them!? 🙈 short of a orgy, I can’t see either Dixon putting up with Shane even for something like that but hey)

been thinking about this every hour since it appeared in my inbox… (Shane is my guilty pleasure fr. would let him do disgusting things to me)

I think I’m seeing your vision… lemme know what you think💗

PICK YOUR POISON

(Rick & Shane & Daryl x fem!reader)

warnings- 18+, smut, alcohol consumption, smoking, references of sex, multiple partners, the boys are kinda pervs but it’s ok cause ur legal and this is fiction <3 2.1k word count

You open the door to the garage and make your way down the stairs. Not even bothering to slip any shoes on. Your mom keeps the epoxy floors absolutely pristine, so there’s really no reason. Plus, your toenail polish is still a little tacky. Bright, bubble gum pink polish and a silver toe ring adorning your foot. The smell of liquor and smoke has filled the garage. Accompanied by the deep, rugged voices and dry laughs coming from your fathers closest friends.

“You know mom hates it when you smoke in the house.” You say all matter of fact, leaning up against the bar-tops, marble counter. You can feel your tank top strap slipping down your shoulder. But the animalistic looks coming from your dads three closest friends, force you to let it drop. To let them see.

Your father puts his cigarette out in the ash tray on the bar. Rolling his eyes at you. “Well good thing we’re in the garage then.”

You ignore his attitude.

“Mom needs you.”

“For what?”

“To drop her off at Cindy’s.”

He seems irritated. But all five of you can hear the rain. There’s no way any half decent husband should let his wife walk to her monthly book club meeting in this weather.

“Just- keep your mouth shut about the smokes. And grab everyone another drink. Make sure they don’t burn the place down while I’m gone.” You father jokes, ruffling up Daryl’s hair on his way to the door, grabbing his jacket and keys.

You wave an innocent goodbye as you watch him through the garage door windows, backing out of the driveway. Your mother in the passenger seat, smiling sweetly at you.

“Well… whatcha drinkin’?” You ask Rick, who’s sat in the middle. Glass empty, with a lone, melting ice cube clinking around in the bottom.

“Rum and coke.” He answers, licking his lips.

“Spiced?” You ask. A flirty smile playing on your face as you bite your bottom lip.

They’re all staring. Jaws clenched and breathing slowly.

You know what you’re doing. You can tell by the way they’re all looking at you. You can practically see the wheels turning in their brains.

They shouldn’t be thinking this way about their friends daughter. About their best friends little girl. Well… not so little anymore. You’d just turned 21. Hell, they were at the party. Giving you the exact same looks they’re giving you right now.

The ones they definitely shouldn’t be.

But they are.

They’re thinking about your thin, frilly, pyjama shorts, and how they can see the purple g string pulled up over your hips. How they can see your belly ring through the fabric of your tank top, and imagining what it would feel like against their lips as they kiss their way down your stomach. And you know they’re thinking about bending you over the bar counter and taking turns at fucking you until they hear the sound of your dads diesel pulling into the driveway. How you’d have to play pretend for your father, ignoring the fact that your panties are soaking through with three different men’s cum, and maybe even a mix of your own. The salty liquids threatening to drip down your inner thigh as you politely excuse yourself from the garage. Coming up with any bullshit excuse to go lay on your bed and rub your clit until you’re seeing stars. Imagining each of their faces in between your legs, spreading you open and eating you up.

You know they’re thinking it, because you are too. It’s the only thing you can think about in this moment, while pouring Rick a double spiced rum and coke. Taking a sip and then handing it him. Making sure your fingers touch.

When you turn to ask Shane what he wants, he gets up. Insisting that you won’t know how to make an old fashioned. You only just turned 21 after all. You probably haven’t even had one before.

But he’s wrong. They’re your dads favourite and you’d been making them for him since you were 16. But you didn’t tell Shane that. Instead you let him walk around the bar, come up behind you and press himself against your back. Letting a tiny gasp escape at the feeling of his, very hard, cock pressing into your bum. Pushing you even further against the counter. His chest is warm against you. And his hands are big and calloused as he guides your own, pouring the perfect amount of bitters, simple syrup and bourbon over a huge, king sized ice cube that he’d retrieved from the freezer.

Finally, taking a slice of orange, meticulously cut up and organized in little containers on the bar top. It was something your mother was always very fond of; organizing the liquors and the garnishes, ensuring that your father could host a proper poker night or barbecue. Or whatever the fuck they stayed up all night doing in their little man cave. Not knowing that you were upstairs, awake and playing with your favourite vibrator, listening to their rock music through your bedroom floor.

“And then you twist it, like this…” Shane’s lips are actually brushing your ear. And you don’t mean to, but your eyes flutter shut at the feeling. His free hand moves to your waist as he tosses the orange peel in the drink, lifting it up and bringing the cold glass to your lips.

“Try it.” He says. And though you can’t see him because he’s still behind you, you can hear the smirk in his voice.

You take a sip. A small one. Immediately scrunching your face at the two men still sitting across you. Their lips curl into an amused smile as they watch you swallow the amber liquid.

“Not my favourite.” You whisper as Shane leans back. Only for a second before he’s turned you around and trapped you once more, back to the bar this time.

“Well we did forget one thing,” He says, reaching over to a jar on the counter. Maraschino cherries. Your favourite.

“And I know how much you like these.” He teases, referring to all the cherries he caught you adding to your piña coladas at a neighbors pool party only a couple weeks ago.

He dips a single cherry in the drink. Taking it by the stem and lifting it to your mouth. You don’t hesitate in wrapping your lips around it. The bitter taste of the bourbon on the fruit doesn’t last long. A sweet, sugary syrup bleeds over your tastebuds as you bite into the cherry. And a moan manages to escape your throat. It’s quiet. You think maybe it was subtle enough to go unnoticed. But the smile on Shane’s lips and the dry laugh coming from behind you, tell you that it didn’t.

Shane is still pushed up against you, cock strained in his jeans and pressed right against your stomach. His hand gripping your hip and forcing you to stay against the counter. And the way he’s looking down at you. Fuck, the way they’re all looking at you. Watching you start to squirm under their gaze.

“It’s good.” You swallow. Trying to maintain a confident, big girl attitude. But truthfully, you just want them to peel your clothes off, and let you melt into their arms as you cum all over their cocks.

“Daryl’s drink is still empty, sweetheart.” Rick’s gravelly voice pulls you back.

“Right.”

Shane gives your hip one last squeeze before he walks back to his barstool. Next to Rick. They cheers quietly and sip on their drinks. Watching intently as you try to compose yourself.

“What’s your poison?” You turn to the last man, lighting what was probably his second or third cigarette of the night. Glancing up at you and taking a draw. Slowly inhaling and exhaling. And though your mother was not a fan, you fucking loved it. You wanted to crawl onto his lap and have him blow the smoke right between your lips as you rode his cock, letting the other two men watch and touch themselves to the sight of you getting off on another guy.

But you didn’t.

“Just a beer, sunshine.” He pushes his empty glass forward for you. You grab it and put it in the dishwasher. Grabbing a brand new, frosted mug from the freezer.

“Which one?”

“Bud’s fine.”

You grab a bottle and skillfully pour it into the mug, coming around the bar this time to hand it to him. Intentionally placing yourself between him and Rick, reaching over and setting the glass in front of him.

To no one’s surprise, you feel a warm hand on the small of your back. Rick’s fingers tracing dangerously close to the thin band of your panties.

“Those are really bad for you, y’know.”

You get bold again. Stepping onto the foot rest of Rick’s barstool, and taking a seat right on his lap. The hand on your back only helping guide you on to him. Quickly finding its way around your waist as you make yourself comfortable.

Daryl only grunts. Hiding a smile at your silly comment. He’d seen you smoke. Hell, he’d snuck out of multiple dinner parties to have one with you.

“You gonna share?” You ask.

Hesitantly he hands it over, and you take it with two fingers. Taking a long drag in and then turning to face Rick again, before you slowly exhale. Trying to focus the smoke onto his lips more than anything.

“What the hell would your father think if he could see you right now?” Shane asks, leaning back in his chair and palming the hard on, still evident in his jeans.

“Think he’d probably try and beat you’re asses.” You say. And while you’re answering Shane, your focus is solely on Rick. The scruff on his face. His bright blue eyes, taunting you and begging you to lean in. Just an inch closer so that he can catch your lips.

“Think he’d win?” Rick asks, glancing down at your own lips.

“Not a chance.” You smile.

He closes the space between you, and you taste rum on the tongue that traces yours. Rick’s hand going to the back of your neck, deepening the kiss as you blindly try to put the cigarette out on the ashtray. You start to move. Trying to maneuver your position so that you’d have a leg on either side of him, straddling his very apparent bulge. But right as you start to moan against his mouth, you hear the truck pull up and park. Practically jumping off of Rick and standing in between him and Daryl’s barstools. Fixing your hair as the heat rises to your cheeks. The men chuckle at your flustered appearance. Waiting for their friend to enter through the side door of the garage.

“Hi dad.” You say, smiling politely and pulling your tank top down to cover the strip of skin visible where it had previously rode up.

“Hey, hun. Glad to see they weren’t too much trouble for ya.” You father aproaches and slaps a hand on Shane’s back. Sitting down next to him and grabbing the pack of smokes from his jacket pocket.

“Y’wannanother drink, daddy?” You ask. Daryl clears his throat. And you see Ricks eyes go wide as Shane tries to hide his smile.

“Please. Old fashioned, darling. Y’want some of that pink stuff we found last week? Bubbly… something or other. It’s in the fridge.”

You watch Shane the whole time that you make the old fashioned. Clearly showing him that you knew exactly how your dad liked it. Carefully placing the cocktail on the counter in front of them.

“Thanks doll.” Your dad says, continuing to smoke his cigarette. Reaching over the counter and handing one to Rick who lights it. Watching you the whole time. Tendrils of smoke, floating up to the ceiling of the garage. You turn around. Bending over and being sure to stay searching for the bottle of rosé about thirty seconds longer than you really needed to. You pour a glass as the men discuss what the next move was. What they should do for the night. Considering it’s still a work night, and they all have a supply run pretty early in the morning.

“You wanna play some cards, sweetie?” Your dad asks. You scrunch your nose at him, taking a nice long sip of your sparkling wine.

“What? You got somewhere better to be?” Shane teases.

You huff a semi-annoyed breath, looking around for a spare stool. Even though you already knew there were only 4. Ricks eyes glimmer as he pats his left thigh, inviting you back on.

To your surprise, your dad pays you no mind, already starting to shuffle the deck of cards as you hesitantly take your seat back on top of Rick. Loving the way his hand curls around your thighs and tugs you even further on top of him. And the the way that Shane looks a little jealous that he hadn’t offered first. And you’re especially loving the way Daryl shifts on his stool just the tiniest bit closer, so that his leg grazes yours every now and then.

“All right, here’s the rules…” You hear your dad starts to explain, already dealing you each some cards. But you don’t hear him. You don’t even look in his direction. You’re way too focused on the taste of Rick that lingers on your lips, and the way your clit is actually fucking pulsing. Begging for attention. And truthfully, your mind can’t help but wander, thinking about what might have happened if your dad had taken any longer to get back home.

part 2

-

(I’m picturing readers dad as Tobin in Alexandria. Someone like that at least. With a Carol-esque mother. But picture whoever you’d like! Just thought I’d share what I was kinda thinking…)

taglist - @rickswh0r3 @elnyrae @catt-leya @murder-jacket @miinbun @ankhmutes @eternalrose81 @cl0wnb0yyy @grimesthinker

[theloveinc]

any hobie and/or miguel icks? 😟

whoever sent this: thank you + i ADORE you. i hope you don't mind i'm switching up the formatting/style a it in comparison to my older icks... shorter list, more detailed <3

(warning: some fem terms used at the end, such as “mama!”)

-

Miguel O'Hara

- This guy... has some long ass toenails. Type of toenails that poke you at night in bed, and tear holes in his socks.

It's maybe somewhat related to the claw thing he's got going on? Has a lot stronger and faster-growing nails than the average person... but the real problem here is that he's TERRIBLE about clipping them. Claims it doesn't bother him even remotely and that you're the one overreacting when you ask him to... but hardly anything gets through to him about it. You probably even offer to do it for him one day, thinking the offer of a foot massage would sway his thinking and that it'd actually work... but he fought you on that just as easy...!!!

...which is how you came to the conclusion that you have a man who'll even argue w/ you over toenails. Petty boy.

- Miguel is also tired 24/7. AND yeah, it's pretty hard to be un-sympathetic towards that, but he's tired in the... I'm-gonna-prioritize-this-one-last-email-over-saying-goodnight-to-you way. Which gets real irritating when you're asking him to help you out w/ anything, like cleaning up or answering a question or JUST HAVING A DAMN CONVERSATION W/ YOU and he's using "I'm tired" as an excuse when his response is shitty or distracted.

Like one of those stupid guys whose always squinting at their damn iPad when you ask what he wants for dinner... which is ironic given that he'll get snippy at you for not giving him your full, entire attention whenever he wants it. Type of man to start picking imaginary lint off your head when you're simply trying to finish up a text before engaging him so that you aren't distracted.

- Odd about Lyla. Not that he loves her or anything, but she'll like pop up to give him updates about whatever even if you're MID-MAKEOUT session and he won't change that setting. Pulling away from your lips all pouty and squinty only to glare at his watch for thirty seconds before trying to go right back into kissing you.

No. No sir.

(Lyla will also always say something to or-but-usually-and about you, which... Okay, she's an AI and doesn't Get It... but it's still weird because it feels like someone you don't know just walked into the room.)

- Picks his nose when he's too busy to find a tissue, and forgets to sanitize his hands after. Denies this when you tell him.. but you've witnessed this multiple times (he's weirdly kind of whiney for a dude and lazy for a workaholic LOL).

Hobie Brown

- Lovely boyfriend because he doesn't give a crap about your appearance or the idea of needing to "look nice" for a man... but also stupid, nuisance boyfriend because this means he doesn't give one hoot if you try to get all gussied up for him. Nags you about wasting time getting ready because he doesn't need you to do all that instead of just saying "THANK YOU, YOU LOOK NICE." Even probably complains about you feeding into gender stereotypes or w/e when you do something like shave your legs or pluck your eyebrows😭

You try to talk to him about this, ask if he even cares that you tried to look nice, and he skirts around admitting it because he has an argument for everything. "'oughta know I think you're pretty either way"-ass when you just spent an hour trying to look all good for him.

- Tries to share the most obscure music with you... which is like, sweet in concept, but weird when it actually happens since it's never like a generic love song but an eleven minute underground jam session.

Which isn't to say he has bad taste in music, usually it's fine if not fantastic... but you try to tell him you don't want to listen to some dude's first draft of himself banging on a drum set for a full album and he's like: "tsk."

HOBIE. TSK??? FUCKING TSK????????? WHAT ABOUT WHAT OTHER PEOPLE LIKE????????

(He'll also use his to get out of listening to your music. Claiming his "inconsistency" is why he liked your playlist yesterday but not today. Stop!!!)

- And you know I gotta say it, he's a punk, after all: absolutely refuses to clean his favorite leather jacket, and it smells RANK. He's genuinely sentimental about it, though... and if you even try to bring up cleaning it somehow (even if very gently), he's acting like you betrayed him. Goes through the five stages of grief over you asking him not to wear it on one of your dates, and teases you by TALKING to it:

"Mumma didn't mean that, jackie. She just doesn't understand our lifestyle, does she?" while giving you a (lighthearted) stink eye.

[somanyratsinthewalls]

I know you already said you'd do it... BUT maybe could I request a standalone fic (not a kinktober one) of a Franky x Reader x Robin fic with daddy/mommy kink, sub!virgin!AFAB!reader

idk if you ship frobin though but if you want to feel free to add that in!

YEAH BABY THIS HAS BEEN FLOATING IN MY MIND EVER SINCE I SAW THAT POST!!! I need more Franky Fuckers in my life. I have zero ships in One Piece EXCEPT FROBIN! They are clearly so in love I can't stand it. Here's the fic, I love it.

Sex Education

Pairing: Robin x afab!reader x Franky

TW: threesome, cyborg banging, misuse of devil fruit powers, girl on girl, two girls one guy, fingering, riding, face sitting. porn!

——

“That color is ugly.” Nami comments at the shade of light green you had chosen to paint you toenails. 

“Is it really that bad?” You lean back and admire your half painted foot. It shimmered in the sunlight on the deck of the ship. 

“Looks like barf.” Nami didn’t look up from her work, carefully painting her own nails a dark shade of pink. 

“Well now that you’ve said that, I can’t unthink it. Do you have the polish remover?” You ask.

“I think Robin has it in her room, you can go grab it, puke-toes.” Nami laughed. 

You roll your eyes and stand up. You begin to head towards the inside of the ship in search of the nail polish remover. You reach Robin’s bedroom door and grab the handle and open the door. You three girls were best friends at this point, knocking was a moot point. 

“Hey, Nami said my toes were ugly so can I just grab the-“ 

Your eyes immediately meet Robin’s as she gasps. Fully nude, she is seated on Franky’s lap who was also shed of his swim briefs. His huge hands cradled her pale, plump ass. A slight sheen of sweat covered her forehead as her arms wrapped around his massive neck. 

“Y/n!” Robin yelps out at you. 

“OH my god?! I’m so sorry!” You stutter out and slam the door shut behind you and run back up through the ship. Your mind was racing. Franky and Robin? A thing? I mean… it makes sense the more you think about it… but seeing it first hand was still a bit jarring. Were other people here having sex? Were you the only one who had never done it before? Is this something you were missing out on?

You burst through the door to the deck where Nami was fanning her drying nails. 

“Woah where’s the fire, y/n?” Nami asked you, noticing your panicked expression. 

“Nami I- I went to get the nail polish remover- and I? I don’t know! The door wasn’t locked! I just went in! And she- and they- they were…!” You were out of breath and couldn’t get out a coherent thought. 

“Oh, walked in on Franky and Robin? Yeah they’re like rabbits lately. Good for them, honestly.” Nami went back to fanning her nails. 

“Wait… you knew?” You couldn’t believe it. 

“Duh? Are you that oblivious? Why do you think they’re always mysteriously absent after dinner? Jeez you need to get laid.” Nami rolled her eyes. 

“Wait… are YOU fucking someone!? Is everyone here having sex but me?!” Your eyes bugged out of your head. Were you the only (human) virgin left on this ship? Sure you had urges, but you always just took care of it yourself in the quiet of your own room late at night. 

“Not since that last island, no. Nobody on the crew, obviously, pickings are way too slim. I made out with Sanji once when I was wasted but he was such a bad kisser I told him to get fucked. It was all wet and gross.”

“Really he was that bad—? Wait come on, you’re getting laid too? Is everyone else?!” You returned to the point of your questioning. 

“I mean yeah, y/n, we all have needs. Except for Zoro… I think there’s something seriously wrong with his brain. Sex is great, especially with someone who knows what they’re doing.” Nami gave you the truth. Maybe it was time for you to finally explore your sexuality…

You both turned your heads as a door swung open. A red-faced Robin smiled meekly at the two of you as she walked towards you and sat down at your side. 

“You need to start using those hands to lock doors, girlfriend.” Nami chuckled and rose to her feet. She winked at the both of you and headed into the kitchen. 

“Hi y/n… So… I’m sorry about that. I should have been more careful. It was a private moment and I apologize for you having to see it.” She genuinely searches your eyes for forgiveness. 

“it.. it’s okay. I just didn’t know you guys were together like that…” You blush and look down at your feet. Robin smiled. 

“He’s sweet. I know we might not look like we’d work out, but I find him quite charming actually!” Robin’s eyes sparkled. “And the sex is phenomenal.”

“Oh.. I… um… I wouldn’t know…” You felt your cheeks continue to heat up. 

“Are you a virgin, y/n?”

“Yes.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, talking mostly to yourself. You continue. “It’s not like I’m doing it on purpose… I’m plenty old enough and I’ve thought about it loads… I just… haven’t had the right opportunity…” 

“Well… If you really wanted to change that… I’m sure we could help you.” Robin takes your hand in hers. You look up into her eyes, they were kind and warm. 

“What?” You were confused as to what kind of help she was offering you. 

“If you wanted to experience sex with people you trust for your first time, I have no doubt Franky would jump at the opportunity. I would be there too, of course, to guide you. We’re very… open… to new experiences… if you’re understanding what I’m saying.” 

“Oh…” Your eyes widen. It might be a good idea to finally get that awkward first time out the way, especially with someone you trust and know well. “I mean… yes? Sure. I guess I’m saying yes.”  

“Perfect.” Robin squeezes your hand. “How about tonight? After dinner? My room?”

You nod. You can’t believe you’re casually agreeing to lose your virginity to two of your closest friends. 

— —

That night, after dinner, you excused yourself from the table a little early so you could freshen yourself up. You took a quick shower, shaving your legs and trimming your bush, washing your hair with the most expensive shampoo you could find in the Sunny’s shared bathroom. After the shower you dried your hair and slathered your body in lotion. You felt like you were getting dolled up for a date, not a dick appointment. 

You perused your closet for something to wear. You wanted to look comfy and casual, but still sexy… wait why were you overthinking this? You had known Robin and Franky for years, who were you trying to impress? You shook yourself out of your racing thoughts and settled on a black pair of knee length spandex bike shorts and a black cropped tee. You finished your hair and applied a bit of makeup before spritzing yourself with perfume. You looked at yourself in the mirror. 

“Ok y/n. You can do this. It’s your totally normal friends who are a robot and someone with devil fruit powers who are going to take your virginity. This is fine and normal. Your life is normal.” After a few minutes of hyping yourself up, you make your way to Robin’s room. You take a deep breath and knock on the door a few times, remembering to knock this time after your intrusion earlier. 

Robin quickly opens the door with a bright smile.

“Y/n! Come in! Are you thirsty? I have some wine.” She grabs your hand and pulls you into her room. Franky was relaxing in a large armchair against the wall facing the bed. 

“Hey pretty thing! So good to see ya!” He beamed at you with a cola in his hand. 

“Hi Frank, sorry about earlier…” You meekly apologize and stared at the floor. 

“Hey no problem! Sorry ya had to walk in on me and the lady like that without warning.” Franky pushed his sunglasses up on his head and took a sip of his beverage. 

“Here, y/n.” Robin shoved a large glass of white wine into your hand. She clinked her own glass with yours and winked. “Come sit.” 

Robin retreated to her bed and patted a spot next to her for you to sit down. You took a big gulp of your drink and sat next to her on the fluffy purple comforter. 

“So I was just telling Franky that you’re a virgin.” Robin states casually as she sips her wine. You choke on yours. 

*cough* “Oh um.. yeah…” *cough*  “I’ve never done anything really…” You sheepishly say as you catch your breath. 

“Wow, someone as gorgeous as you? I’d had never guessed. Well don’t you worry sweet thing, we’ll take care of you real nice, right mama?” The cyborg smirks and leans back in his chair. 

“Of course daddy, we’re going to make sure she feels so good.” Robin uses her free hand to start stroking your upper arm. 

“Oh, so we’re like- doing this? Now? Okay uh-“ You stutter out. 

“Well, whenever you’re ready, sweet girl. You’re just so pretty I can’t help myself.” Robin scoots herself closer to you on the bed and starts playing with the hem of your crop top. “Can I take your clothes off? I can take mine off too, if that’ll help you feel more comfortable.” Robin purrs into your ear. 

“O-okay…” 

Robin pulls your shirt over your head, breasts falling and bouncing against your chest. She then slips off your shorts, making you fully nude in front of them. 

“Wow sweet cheeks, no bra or panties? And pierced nipples? Such a little minx.” Franky remarks at your lack of undergarments. You blush at the comment about your piercings.

Robin stood up and pulled her dress over her head. 

“Isn’t she cute?” Robin smiles at you and back at Franky as she slips her panties down her legs and unhooks her bra. Her incredible rack was staring you straight in the face and you unconsciously rubbed your legs together in excitement. Her body was so gorgeous and toned, you wanted to feel it on top of you. 

With both of you completely naked, Robin sits next to you again on the bed. “May I kiss you, y/n?” Robin asks, bringing her hand to your chin. 

“Yes…” You whisper, meeting her gaze. You close your eyes as she leans into you. Her kiss is soft, her lips are buttery and smooth. After a brief moment of pressing her lips to yours, she begins rolling her tongue along your lower lip, silently asking for you to open your mouth. You oblige and she slips her tongue into your mouth to explore it eagerly. You bring your hand up to cup the side of her neck. 

“Mmph!” You huff out in surprise as she slid one of her hands up to your breast and experimentally toyed with your nipple. You continue to make out as her hands play and squeeze at your breasts. Robin pulls back from your lips, continuing her ministrations on your tits, rolling the silver barbells in her fingers.   

“You’re so sensitive, little one, can’t wait to see what else turns you on.” Robin giggles. 

“Spread her legs, mama, wanna see that cute little pussy.” Franky prompts her from his chair. 

Quickly, Robin is behind you, your back pressed against her ample chest. She gentlly takes your calves and hooks them over her spread legs so you were fully exposed for your robot lover. She begins open mouth kissing on your neck from behind and you sigh at the feeling. 

“Can I touch you, y/n? Is this okay so far?” Robin whispers into your ear. 

“Yes… I want you to touch me…” You whimper out, body aching for more contact. 

“But no one has ever touched you here… right? Maybe just yourself?” She slid one of her hands down to cup your mound. Her voice became more sinister. Your face and ears were bright red, feeling embarrassed but your sexual desires were too strong so you pushed the feeling aside. 

“Just me, Robin… no one else…” 

“hmm… So you know what you like? How about this? Do you play with your little clit like this?” Robin coos at you as she begins to apply pressure to your throbbing bud and rub it in circles, your pussy was leaking at this point. 

“Hnnnnn, yes! Yes I like this!” You whine out. 

Robin continues slowly rubbing your clit and kissing your neck. She uses her free hand to pinch your nipples. Wait, was that a third hand? You looked down and you had one hand touching your sex and two on your breasts. You had never thought about it before but her devil fruit powers were certainly useful in this situation. 

“You two look so super like this…” Franky lowly slurs out as he takes another sip of his drink from across the room. “You know she won’t be able to take me if you don’t stretch her first mama…” He adds. 

“I’m getting to it… let me enjoy her first. You’re so impatient my love. Don’t forget who’s in charge here. I want to make it special.” Robin teasingly scolds her boyfriend as she doesn’t falter in her movements against your clit. 

“Mmmm- more please! Wan’ more!” You wanted to feel something inside of you, having been worked up by Robin’s hands. 

“Aww what a sweet baby. I can give you more.” Another hand appeared and one slender digit slid into your aching hole. 

“Robin!” You gasp out and lean your head back on her shoulder. She slowly dipped her finger in and out of your cunt as you moaned in pleasure. She added another finger and you yelped. 

“Have you made yourself cum like this, y/n?” 

“Yes- nnghh! But you’re! You’re so much better! Ah!” You breath out as she pulls and taps on your sweet spot with her soft fingers. 

“You’re too kind, baby.” Robin smiles down at you on her shoulder. “Daddy is pretty big, sweet girl, so I’m going to have to add another finger, okay?” She has another hand stroking your hair. 

“O-okay… Fuck!” Robin adds a third finger into your weeping cunt and bullies them all into your spot. You felt a familiar yet stronger feeling build up in your lower half. You were sighing and moaning as you look towards Franky in the armchair. He had shed his minimal clothing and there was a hand sprouting from the chair and stroking his large cock. You had no idea how that was going to fit inside you, although your mouth watered at the sight of it. It was cut, thick, and gorgeous. Your orgasm was so close. 

“I think- I think I’m gonna cum, Robin! I wanna cum!” 

“Go ahead and cum, sweetheart, want you to feel so good….” She continues her work on your pussy as you slam your eyes shut in pleasure. You feel your orgasm rip through your body and spill out onto Robin’s hands. You moan out loudly. She slowly pulls out her hand and rubs your cunt comfortingly. 

“That was so good, little one! You’re so wet and open, I think you’re ready to take daddy now.” There was a glint of mischief in her voice as she stroked the sides of your arms and kissed your cheek. 

“You… you think?” You were hazing coming down from the powerful orgasm that Robin had just given you. 

“Mhmm.” Robin kissed you on the forehead. “Come here daddy, lay down.” She nodded towards her cyborg lover. 

“Showtime, ladies!” Franky laid down on the bed, as you were sure he had done hundreds of times. “Hop on up, little one!” He beckons you with a large hand. You collect yourself and straddle his huge hips. 

“I.. I don’t… I don’t really know what to do, should I-?” You sputter out, your eyes darting from Robin’s and Franky’s. 

“Let me help, sweetheart… You ready?” Robin leans forward and grabs Franky’s thick cock and lines it up with your soaking hole. You nod.

Another hand grabs your hip and begins to lower you down onto Franky’s dick. 

“Ahh! It’s too much!” You felt the sting of his fat member stretching you out as it entered your virgin cunt. 

“It’s okay! It’s okay just take it slow, okay?” Robin was kissing your upper arm as she guided you down further onto the man below you. “I’m right here…” 

You mewled and whined as you slowly took Franky inch by inch. Eventually you felt your muscles relax as your body was flush to his. He was fully seated inside you. 

“You did it! You did it, y/n! Mommy and daddy are so proud of you! Look how pretty you are with a cock inside you!” Robin gleefully released your hip to tilt your head down to look at where Franky’s dick was balls deep in your little hole. 

“Ohhhh pretty girl, you’re so TIGHT!” Franky exclaimed as he grabbed your hips with both hands. “Never felt anything like this!” He praised you as he rubbed loving circles into your pelvis. 

“I.. I did it…” You were breathless, never having felt so full in your life. 

“Can I fuck her now, mama? Please?” Franky looked up at Robin, pleading to be able to wreck you. 

“Yes, daddy, but don’t scare her off now. Be gentle.” Robin captured your lips in a soft kiss to distract you from her boyfriend planting his feet and beginning to thrust upwards into your tight hole. 

“OH- Robin! Ah!” You moaned against her lips as your lover began to rut into you from below. It was so big and rubbing against your sweet spot so deliciously. 

“I know sweetie, I know. You’re doing so good, taking daddy’s cock so well!” Robin cooed as she pulled back from your lips. 

“Come on mama, take your seat. I want both!” Franky panted out as he thrust into your pussy. 

Robin giggled as she moved to hover over Franky’s face and sat down on his waiting tongue. Robin sighed as she felt his tongue move against her wet folds. She leaned forward into you and wrapped her arms around your neck as you continued getting speared by Franky’s cock. 

“Isn’t this mmhmmm- nice, y/n?” She mewled out as Franky sucked on her clit. 

“AH YES!” You shrieked out, feeling your belly begin to tighten again. You felt a hand rubbing your sensitive, engorged clit. You felt two more hands pinching and pulling at your sensitive nipples. You felt two more hands squeezing your ass cheeks in addition to the large metal ones clutching your hips desperately. There was so much stimulation from every direction you could barely take it. Robin captured your lips in a messy kiss. 

“Come on girls, I can’t take much more of this!” Franky shouted from underneath you both, he was clearly affected by your tight wetness. 

“I want to kiss her for a little, be patient, daddy.” Robin pulled away briefly to scold him playfully. She dives back in to your swollen, wet lips. You grab the back of her head with both hands, the pleasure driving your boldness. The lewd wet slurping of Franky on Robin’s pussy was causing you to clench on the dick inside of you. Robin was keening and moaning into your mouth and you had never seen anything so hot. 

“Fuck daddy, I’m going to cum. Want to cum with me, little one?” Robin looks you in the eye and continues her work on your sensitive bits. 

“YES! Fuck I’m right there, please daddy!” You shriek out.

“Soak me, cum on me, ‘wanna feel it!” Franky pushes into you as far as he can go and your body spasms and creams all on his robot cock. You scream out in pleasure. Robin moans his name as she, too, finishes all over him. His blue hair was soaked in Robin’s gushy release. Robin kisses you deeply as you both finish your orgasms. 

“Let me fill her, please mama, wanna stuff her so bad!” Franky begged his partner from underneath you. 

“Of course daddy, anything you want.” Robin moved off his face and pinched his nipples to encourage his finish. 

“FUUUUCK-“ Franky groaned loudly as he spilled himself deep inside your no-longer-virgin pussy. You fell forward, burying Franky’s face in your sweaty breasts. You were so dick drunk you couldn’t move. 

“Come on little one, let’s get you tucked into bed.” Robin lifted you off Franky’s cock with her strong arms and laid you down under the covers. 

“Th-thank you guys…” You whisper out. 

“Hey, after that? I’ll let you join me and the lady ANY time!” Franky proceed to tuck both you and Robin into her comforter and head out to finish his repairs for the evening. 

“Robin that was… so incredible…” You stroked her jaw as you laid in bed facing each other. 

“Well sweetie, if you want to part of our little arrangement, I think we could make it happen…” Robin giggled at you as she raked her fingers through your hair. 

“Maybe we can talk about it tomorrow…” And you drifted off to sleep. 

[kckt88]

Don't Mess with My Mind.

Summary:

When you first got into a relationship with Aegon, it was everything you’d ever dreamed of. But when you catch him in bed with your best friend, it’s his younger brother Aemond who comforts you, at first you think you can go back to normal, but no matter how hard you try you cannot forget how Aemond made you feel that night and soon the two of you embark upon a passionate all-consuming affair that ultimately leads to life changing consequences.

Warning(s): Angst, Hurt, Comfort, Alcohol Consumption, Cheating, Kissing, Smut – Fingering, Oral Sex (M & F Receiving), Unprotected P in V Sex.

Word Count: 3670.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

MODERN AU - AEMOND x Y/N - AEGON x Y/N

Inspired by the song: EMO - Don't Mess With My Mind.

Tag List: @immyowndefender, @zenka69, @iloveallmyboys, @summerposie, @namelesslosers, @dixie-elocin,

The door slammed behind Y/N as she ran out of the building, the tears streaming down her face.

How could Aegon betray her like this? She thought he loved her. He’d told her enough times.

Y/N came to a stop near the car park and sagged against the stone wall, the sounds of Aegon fucking her best friend still ringing in her ears.

That absolute piece of shit, he’d even text her earlier in the day inviting her over to spend the night only for him to get caught with his pants down, literally.

Everyone warned her that Aegon was no good, but she wouldn’t listen, she foolishly believed that she would be the one who could tame him, oh how wrong she was.

The guy was a massive prick, Sara was welcome to him.

Let her be the one to put up with his drinking habits, the temper tantrums, and his disgustingly long toenails.

The only good thing about him was his nice-ish cock, no surprises there as he obviously got plenty of practice, Y/N wondered if Sara was the only one or were there others that he was also seeing, gods it made her feel sick.

Suddenly the glare of approaching headlights made Y/N wince as she raised a hand to shield her face.

Y/N looked up and saw Aemond getting out of his car with a tall dark-haired woman.

The woman began giggling as Aemond bent down and whispered in her ear, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and they began walking towards the entrance to the block of flats.

“Hey Y/N-what are you doing out here by yourself?” asked Aemond as he noticed her shaking form huddled against the wall.

“I-I just came to see A-Aegon and I caught him in bed with Sara” replied Y/N.

“Isn’t she supposed to be your best friend?” mused Aemond as he removed his arm from the dark-haired woman who Y/N remembered was called Alys.

“Not anymore” quipped Y/N.

“Aemy, can’t we go inside it’s getting cold” whined Alys, looking bored as she examined her red painted nails.

“In a minute” replied Aemond.

Alys narrowed her green eyes at Y/N and gently took hold of Aemond’s arm, only to be immediately shrugged off.

“Aemond-“ muttered Alys through gritted teeth.

“I think it’s for the best that you leave” urged Aemond, never taking his eye off Y/N as he opened his wallet and pressed some money into Alys’ palm.

“What?” gasped Alys as she closed her fingers around the notes Aemond had given her.

“Money for a taxi-I’ll call you tomorrow” urged Aemond waving his hand at Alys dismissively.

“Aemy baby-I thought we was-“ said Alys her voice low and saccharine.

“I said fuck off Alys” snapped Aemond.

“Fine. Your loss” retorted Alys as she spun on her high heels and stormed off.

Aemond watched with mild disinterest as Alys disappeared round the corner.

“You didn’t need to send her away” muttered Y/N.

“If I’m honest you did me a favour, I shouldn’t have brought her here the first place, as always she treats me like shit, then begs me to forgive her-“

“-So why did you-you know bring her here?” asked Y/N.

“Truthfully-I wanted sex, and it’s much easier than going to some dingy shit hole and putting in the effort to chat up some random that I can’t stand beyond my need to come”.

“Makes sense I suppose” muttered Y/N.

“Now tell me everything” urged Aemond as he took out a cigarette and quickly lit it.

Aemond smoked as he listened to Y/N, and as she spoke, he couldn’t help but notice how sweet she looked, her cheeks tinged pink and her plump juicy lips that would look great around his-

“-And that’s when I found them in bed together” muttered Y/N.

Aemond reached forward and gently brushed the stray tear from her cheek with his thumb.

“If you really want to get back at Aegon, play him at his own game” whispered Aemond as he discarded his cigarette, crushing the dock end under his boot.

“H-How?” asked Y/N wiping her nose on her sleeve.

“Fuck someone else, I mean do you really wanna be out here crying over his pathetic arse or do you want to show him that you don’t give a shit?” said Aemond.

“I guess-but I haven’t got that many friends, so I don’t know who would-” sniffed Y/N.

An opportunity to get one over on his cunt of a brother had never so gloriously presented itself before, and of course he was going to seize his chance, she was ripe for the picking, and he was going to devour her.

“-I’m more than willing to help you-if you ask nicely” muttered Aemond as he leaned forward and braced both hands on the wall beside her head.

His warm breath tickled her skin as he slowly ran his aquiline nose slowly up her cheek.

Y/N closed her eyes sighed, despite being with Aegon she had always found Aemond rather attractive, and despite her initial reservations surrounding his offer, she realised she would be a fool to pass up such an opportunity.

If Aegon could fuck her so called best friend, then she would fuck his brother.

“P-please” whispered Y/N as she felt Aemond’s teeth nipping at her ear lobe.

“Oh, sweet girl-I know you can do better than that” whispered Aemond as reached down and slid his fingers past the waistband of her leggings.

“A-Aemond, please-I-I need you” moaned Y/N when she felt Aemond’s long fingers teasing her folds.

“Oh baby, I’m going to fuck you so hard that you’ll forget my brother’s name”.

Aemond pressed a finger to hips lips as he led Y/N through the flat he shared with Aegon, all the lights were off and everything was silent, no doubt his twat of a brother had fallen asleep.

Y/N eyed Aegon’s bedroom door nervously but she followed Aemond into his room, noticing how clean and organized it was compared to his brothers who in all honesty was a bit of a slob.

Aemond quietly shut the door, the lock sliding into place with a soft click.

“Last chance to back out baby” whispered Aemond as he crowded Y/N against his bedroom door.

Y/N shook her head as she pressed forward and claimed his lips with her own.

The kiss was filthy, it was depraved-gods it was fucking amazing. Aemond couldn’t help the small groan that escaped his tips as Y/N’s tongue slid against his.

Aemond slowly moved his hands down Y/N’s body before roughly grasping her ass and hauling her up against the door.

Y/N whimpers, gripping at Aemond’s shoulders as he slots himself between her legs, his tongue still invading her mouth.

Aemond presses himself against the apex of Y/N’s thighs, and he growls like an animal when she reaches down and palms his hard cock over his jeans.

“Fuck-“ groans Aemond as he begins grinding his clothed cock against her.

“Someone’s eager” whispered Y/N as she flicked her tongue against the corner of Aemond’s mouth.

“Oh, sweet girl you have no idea” quipped Aemond as she spun her off the door and carried her to his bed.

Soon their clothes are abandoned in a haphazard heap on the floor and Aemond was laid between Y/N open legs moving his fingers through her dripping folds as he expertly devoured her with his mouth, his nose bumping against her pearl as fucked her with his tongue.

Gods, she tasted delicious.

Aemond loved performing oral sex on women, something his past partners never complained about, but nothing compared to Y/N’s she was delicious in a way he’d never tasted before.

“Fuck,” squeaks Y/N as she grasps at the back of Aemond’s head, her fingers digging into his hair, holding him in place.

“You’re quite sensitive. Are you going to come already?” asked Aemond smugly.

Aemond alternates between using his fingers and tongue to bring Y/N to her peak.

Y/N arches her back as she comes, Aemond gently sucks on her pearl as she rides out the euphoria of her peak.

“Is that you done baby, or do you want more?” asked Aemond playfully, his chin shining with her slick.

“M-More, please” gasps Y/N as Aemond reaches forward and presses a singular kiss to her pearl before he quickly wipes his chin with his hand.

Aemond smirks as he removes his boxers, his hard cock slapping up against his abdomen,

Y/N looks at Aemond and her eyes widen, he was bigger than Aegon significantly so, his cock hard and heavy, the tip glistening with pre-cum.

“Don’t worry little mouse-it will fit” whispered Aemond as he presses his lips against Y/N’s in a heated kiss.

Aemond takes himself in his hand and guides his hard cock to Y/N entrance, pushing in slowly and pausing to give her a moment to adapt to his size.

After pressing a gentle kiss to Y/N’s lips, Aemond pulls out slowly and slides back in, his pace gentle and steady.

“I thought you said you were going to fuck me hard?” questioned Y/N.

Aemond lets out a pleased grunt and slams into Y/N hard, smiling as she let’s out a yelp of surprise.

The pace he sets is brutal, his hips slapping against hers.

Y/N moans desperately, as she moves her hips to meet his, attempting to allow his cock to reach deeper within her.

Aemond gets the hint, and quickly lifts Y/N’s legs over his shoulders, using the new angle to drive his cock even deeper than before.

“Tell me how it feels, Am I better than my brother” demands Aemond.

“It’s good, so good-yes-yes your so much better than him,”

Y/N praises sets something off inside Aemond as he continues to pound into her, the headboard banging against the wall from the force of his movements.

“Aemond, please, I’m close” whimpers Y/N.

Aemond moves a hand down to where the two of them are joined, and rubs Y/N’s pearl in quick circles, dragging her closer the edge of the precipice.

“I never want to leave this sweet pussy–fuck,” groans Aemond as he marks each of his words in tandem with a rough snap of his hips.

Y/N come with a loud, scream, her body shaking underneath Aemond’s as his thrusts grow sloppy.

“J-Just a little longer-fuck” groans Aemond as he slams into Y/N three more times before reaching his own peak, spilling rope after rope of seed inside her.

After a few moments, Aemond gently moves Y/N’s legs from his shoulders, his chest heaving with every breath he takes.

“I-I wasn’t too rough, was I?” asked Aemond.

“No. I-It was wonderful” exclaimed Y/N, her body shaking slightly.

Aemond smirks as he slowly removes his softened cock from her slick cunt, his singular eye fixated on the drops of seed that spill out.

He takes a finger to Y/N’s opening and pushes his seed back inside, delighting in her moan of surprise. He leans over to press a gentle kiss to her lips, before bringing his finger to his own mouth and sucking it clean.

Aemond laid down on the bed and pulled Y/N to him.

“Not tired, are you?” asked Aemond curiously as Y/N laid her head on his chest and began running her fingers through the sparse hair that graced his chest.

Y/N looked at him and smiled as she shook her head.

“Good, because I plan to fuck you so many times tonight that you cannot walk tomorrow”.

 “Promises, promises” replied Y/N as she ran her tongue over his nipple.

 Y/N started at her phone, another text from Aegon begging her to call him.

He seemed oblivious to the fact that she’d seen him in bed with Sara, initially she did think to give him a piece of her mind but then she decided it was for the best that she ignored him, she really couldn’t deal with any of his excuses at the moment.

Not when she’d spent the entire night getting fucked to within an inch her life by Aemond.

Never had she had so many orgasms in one night, the man was an absolute menace.

Aegon had never made her feel this way, he was a rather selfish lover in that respect, but Aemond, he was something else entirely.

He devoted himself into worshipping every inch of her body and boy was she feeling it today.

Every single muscle ached from being contorted into a number of different positions, Aemond had incredible stamina, the way he held her in his arms as he fucked her against the wall or the way he held her hips as she rode him, his cock reaching places that she never knew existed.

Her phone buzzed again and just as she was about to tell Aegon to go fuck himself, she noticed that it was Aemond who had text her.

Gods, Aemond was on his way over, it had barely been twenty-four hours and he was already desperate for her.

But in truth she was just as desperate, she craved him on a whole other level and her heart fluttered at the thought of seeing him again.

Soon she heard a knock her door and she took a brief pause before she answered it.

She smiled as she saw Aemond leaning against the wall, dressed head to toe in black, a half-finished cigarette hanging from his delectable mouth.

“Come in” said Y/N as she opened the door wider.

“Don’t worry little mouse, I intend to” replied Aemond as he stubbed his cigarette out and entered her flat.

This was how it was between them, over the next few weeks.

Aemond would come to her flat and fuck her on every available surface, she lived alone so they were free to explore one another for as long as they desired.

Sometimes Aemond would sneak her into his room at the flat he shared with Aegon and have her in every way imaginable.

Once he had her pressed against his door with his cock deep inside her as his brother was on the other side complaining that he was making too much noise.

Y/N knew she should put Aegon out of his misery and end their relationship, but the things she would do with Aemond were beyond anything she’d ever experienced with his brother, it made her feel wanted.

It was passionate and all consuming, Aemond was like her own personal drug, she was addicted to him, and she had no remorse about indulging in her habit.

Aemond had invaded every single part of her mind, body and soul.

Even when she was at work, she would find herself reminiscing over their time together, how he sounded when she sunk to her knees and took his cock in her mouth or the way his muscles would tense as he thrust inside her.

She also loved his dominate streak, he would tie her up and blindfold her, as he devoured her cunt, or he would spank her as he fucked her from behind.

Later that day Aemond had picked her up from work and took her back to his flat, after he’d stripped her of her clothes he’d slid down her body, spreading her thighs further apart, so he could get a good look at his sought-after prize.

“Such a pretty cock sleeve" breathed Aemond as he ran the flat of his tongue up Y/N’s soaked slit, from bottom to the top, tasting her.

“Oh, my god” moaned Y/N her eyes rolling into the back of her head.

“That’s it. Let me hear you”.

“YES! It feels so good. Don’t stop. Aemond. Please”

"Delicious" purred Aemond as he began lapping at Y.N, running his tongue along every fold.

"More" panted Y/N

Aemond inserted two fingers, sliding them in and out of her slick wet folds.

“Oh, fuck"

Y/N was giving off a slew of loud swear words, moans, and pleas, that surely Aegon would hear.

 Aemond’s fingers were soaking wet as they continued to pump in and out of her tight heat.

“I can’t wait to get my cock inside you. I don’t want to wait any longer, come for me” moaned Aemond.

Gods he was so hard, it was almost painful.

Finally, he felt Y/N’s inner walls start to flutter around his fingers, squeezing them. Her back arched taut as a bow, and she screamed her release.

Aemond pumped slowly and lapped at her whilst she came. Soon her tense body went slack and pliant.

“I need you NOW!!���

Aemond couldn't wait any longer. He surged up and ploughed his hard cock into Y/N’s soaked cunt.

"AEMOND!" shouted Y/N, her eyes popping open from her post-orgasm haze.

"You feel so good" rasped Aemond.

"Fuck me, Aemond" urged Y/N, her tone bordering on desperate as she thrust her hips upward towards his.

Aemond chuckled and bit down lightly on a nipple, making Y/N moan and squirm.

He started to thrust slowly, trying to prolong the feel of his her squeezing his cock.

"Faster, Aemond" begged Y/N.

"Patience" chided Aemond as he ran his nose up her neck.

“Yes, Aemond, just like that-" panted Y/N.

Her hands ran over his arms, over his shoulders, and down his back. Her nimble fingers mapped his back muscles and then went down to his arse and gripped him - pressing him into her harder.

“Gods" grunted Aemond, speeding up slightly.

"Fuck me, Aemond" whispered Y/N "Fuck me with that big, cock of yours. You feel so good inside me, filling me up. Give me what I need. Make me scream, make me come”.

Aemond knew exactly what Y/N was doing, and he couldn’t help himself.

Y/N wanted faster, and he was going much faster now; so much for having the control in the situation. His pace had increased with every filthy word that dropped from Y/N’s luscious lips.

Now he was quickly thrusting in and out, shaking the bed, the headboard banging loudly against the wall.

Y/N was meeting him thrust for thrust.

“Aemond! I’m going to come. Oh, fuck!” screamed Y/N; not caring if Aegon would hear them.

Y/N always looked amazing when she came. Her head thrown back in pleasure, her eyes alive with lust, and her skin shining with sweat.

“Fuck” groaned Aemond as he exploded. His cock throbbing and twitching as he spilled his seed inside Y/N’s wet heat.

It took a good while for Aemond to regain his senses.

Y/N was laid underneath him completely blissed out; their sweaty bodies pressed together.

“Mine” whispered Aemond in his post orgasm haze.

Y/N hummed as Aemond pulled his softened cock from her and flopped down onto the bed beside her.

Aemond placed his hand on her stomach and sighed contentedly as his fingers drew patterns on her skin.

Y/N closed her eyes and pressed her face into the soft sheets, laying with Aemond after sex was always nice, he would often pull her body to his and bury his nose in her hair, or he would haul her over his body, so she was practically laid on top of him.

Aemond seemed to like he closeness and if Y/N was honest she didn’t mind it either, Aegon was never much of a cuddler after sex, he just kind of rolled off her and went to sleep.

As her eyes began to drop, Y/N realised that she needed to officially end her relationship with Aegon, he still kept trying to call and text her, even Sara had tried the cheeky bitch. However, it still baffled Y/N that Aegon would even think that they were still together, especially after she’d been ghosting him for the last few weeks.

Y/N did wonder what Aegon’s reaction would be when he found out that she had been having sex with his brother, but it wasn’t like he could take the moral high ground given what he’d done with Sara.

No doubt he’d throw a hissy fit and try to play the victim like he did in most of the situations he found himself in, but things needed to change, and they never would unless it was her taking the steps to make those changes.

Where Aemond factored into that, Y/N didn’t know as they hadn’t really talked of exploring anything beyond their sexual involvement, it was only when she thought about it that Y/N realised that she wanted more, but she was too anxious to say anything to Aemond just in case he didn’t feel the same way.

But as the saying goes when one thing goes right in your life, another thing will go spectacularly wrong.

A few days later whilst she was at work Y/N was staring at her phone, she’d just got a calendar notification and was horrified to see that her period was long overdue. So, on her lunch break she rushed to the chemist to buy a pregnancy test.

As she returned to work, she hid the box inside her jacket, not wanting anyone to see it.

She bypassed her boss when she returned and sat in the toilets reading the instructions and making sure she peed on the stick properly.

Suddenly a soft knock at the door, distracted her attention from what she was doing.

“Just a second” said Y/N loudly as she held her hand between her legs.

“Boss wants you to stack the new delivery”.

“I said just a second, I’m trying to fucking pee” snapped Y/N.

“Ok but hurry up, you know what he gets like”.

“Fucking pain in the arse” muttered Y/N.

All she wanted was five fucking minutes, sure she should have waited until she got back to her flat to do this, but she couldn’t. She needed to know. Now.

“Fuck-fuck-fuck-please” muttered Y/N as she glanced at the ceiling of her bathroom.

Her hands shook as she tightly gripped the pregnancy test. After taking a deep shuddering breath she turned it over.

“Shit” exclaimed Y/N the tears welling in her eyes.

She was pregnant, with Aemond’s baby.

[sissylittlefeather]

Role Play Part 5: Something Borrowed

A/N: Well, shit. I accidentally finished this series. If you're a writer, you understand how sometimes these stories just write themselves. If you don't write, let me just tell you sometimes it really feels like I am just a pen for words with a life of their own. So, this chapter wrote itself and ended the series. Will there be an epilogue? Oh yeah. But please enjoy the end of this series. It's been a labor of love.

Need to catch up? Here is my Masterlist

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, kissing, cussing, p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, angst

Word count: ~3.2k

In the morning, Elvis wakes up before you. That's strange, because he rarely wakes up before the afternoon, but he seems to sleep better with you there. At first, he lays there holding you, listening to the even pattern of your breathing. He knows he has to tell you to go home today, but the prospect of doing so is not a pleasant one. He slides out from under you and goes to the bathroom and gets a glass of water. When he comes back, you're still asleep, naked, laying on your stomach with your hair spread out across your back and the pillow. You look so peaceful and angelic in your sleep. For a second, he considers pulling out his camera and taking some photos of you. This is the image he'd like to keep, that he wakes up every morning thinking about. Your eyelashes flutter and he sets the glass of water on the nightstand, slipping back into the bed beside you.

You feel his hand on your back as he strokes your hair and it makes you shiver. Groaning and stretching, you scoot over close to him and put your arms around his waist. You feel him kiss the top of your head and linger there, inhaling your scent.

He's trying to figure out how to tell you to leave when all he wants in the world is for you to stay right there in his arms. But that's exactly why you need to go. He'll tell you when you're more awake. It would just be cruel to do it while you're still half asleep.

After a few more minutes you sit up and yawn. You kiss his shoulder and roll over him out of the bed to go to the bathroom. He watches your hips sway as you walk away from him and before he knows it, he's fully erect. That's when he hears the shower start. You come out of the bathroom and he looks you up and down all the way to your perfectly painted toenails.

"Thought I'd hop in the shower. You want to join me?" You say it seductively and do a little shimmy to tempt him. His cock is so hard it hurts, so it's impossible not to notice when he stands up. "Mmm. Good morning, soldier. You comin'?"

He growls and wraps himself around you as you turn to walk back to the bathroom, whispering in your ear.

"Not yet, but I bet I will be soon." You giggle and the sound fills the room in a way that makes his heart swell. As you tumble into the shower together, he decides he can tell you to go home after this is finished. One last time won't hurt.

In the shower, you fall into each other easily and it's all mouths and hands and moans and whimpers as he slides in and out of you, your wet skin hot against his. He starts out behind you with your hands against the shower wall as he holds your hips with both of his. Then, he turns you and picks you up, pressing your back against the wall and fucking into you with every ounce of his power. The steamy smell of sex fills the bathroom and you both get louder and louder as you approach your climax together. The water runs down both of your bodies and mixes with your sweat, your hair sticking to your forehead and shoulders.

"Oh, fuck, YES!" He finally yells as he slams into you one last time and fills you with his warmth. You can't make any noises as your orgasm pounds you and you lose hearing in your left ear. All you can do is hold onto him and shake as he kisses your neck and cheeks and mouth. Slowly, he sets you back down, but your legs are so wobbly that he switches the shower to a bath and sits down with you, situating himself behind you so that you're leaning against his chest.

"Are you okay, honey?"

"Mmm yeah, I'm better than okay. That was amazing."

"Yeah, it was." He tries to get up the courage to ask you to leave after the bath, but he just can't. Maybe he'll let himself enjoy this day with you and you can leave tonight.

******

You spend the next half hour or so in the bathtub together just talking and cuddling until the water isn't warm and your skin starts to prune. Finally, you get out and get dressed. He watches as you put on makeup and fix your hair. Every detail of you is interesting to him and he wants to memorize your every move.

You make your way to the kitchen together and eat some sandwiches before he takes you to show you around the house. He makes sure you get a taste of what each room has to offer: a game of pool, some TV, the piano, and he even lets you actually shoot a couple of his guns. You're out in the yard with the horses when the sun starts to set and he asks what you want for dinner.

"I can have the staff whip up pretty much anything you want."

"No. I have a better idea." The devious glint in your eye makes him nervous.

"What?"

"We're cooking."

"I can't cook!"

"Good thing I can. I'll show you. You can be my little helper." He rolls his eyes and puts his arms around you.

"Honey, are you sure?"

"It'll be fun. Come on. When have you not had fun with me?"

"That's true. Alright, we can try it." He leans in and kisses you deeply. Dinner. Then you have to go home.

******

In the kitchen, there's food everywhere as you try to make a meal out of the ingredients you found. Not surprisingly, you found stuff to make meatloaf and mashed potatoes. You also insist on sautéing some zucchini to go with it. He's not sure why you need a vegetable, but you tell him he'll eat it anyway. He peels potatoes, or tries to but he keeps dropping them in the sink and cussing, and mixes the meatloaf for you. He does not appreciate the texture of it on his hands, but for you he'll do just about anything. Luckily, you made him take his rings off before starting this process. Finally, pretty much everything is done and you're just waiting for the meatloaf to finish baking. You're at the sink doing dishes and he comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you, setting his chin on your shoulder. He does this so often and it's your favorite thing.

"You look pretty doing dishes in my kitchen."

"Oh yeah? You like your women domestic?"

"I like you domestic." He kisses your cheek and your ear and down to the back of your neck. You grab a towel and dry your hands and then turn to face him. He kisses your mouth, parting your lips and sending his tongue to move against yours. With his hands on your hips, he walks you to another counter and picks you up, setting your bottom on the countertop. It's impressive how quickly he gets your pants and panties off and tossed to the side. Your hands go to the clasp on his pants and you drop them just enough to pull his cock out. He's mostly hard already and it only takes a few seconds of you stroking him with your hand to get him erect enough to push into you. You both let out a moan at the relief of him being inside you again. It feels like you'll never get enough of that sensation and he begins to slide in and out of you in a steady rhythm. He's convinced he could fuck you a million times and it still wouldn't get old. He pumps faster and faster, speeding haphazardly towards his climax, slamming into you harder and harder. He nips at your neck while he pounds you and you drag your nails down the back of his shirt. There's something very comfortable and intimate about the way he fucks you this time and it feels like you're going to keep doing it like this forever. He buries himself in you over and over again, hitting the most sensitive place inside you each time. You feel your orgasm beginning to build and you know you won't last much longer in this position. He seems to be experiencing the same thing as he grunts while he ruts into you. He looks down at the place where you connect and it nearly pushes him over the edge.

"God, baby, I could do this forever."

"I wish you would."

"Mm... mmm... baby, fuck!" His hips meet yours one last time and he cums deep inside you again. You hold him to you while you both think about what he said just seconds ago. Did he really say forever?

Just then the timer for the meatloaf goes off and you both jump. He erupts in laughter and you both stand there laughing and holding each other for another minute or so. Then, he pulls out and hands you your pants so you can get the meatloaf out. Both of you pretend to forget about what he said as you sit down to eat.

******

After dinner, he knows it is time for you to leave, but instead he offers up the idea of a movie in the TV room. You eagerly agree, completely oblivious to the fact that he's been trying to ask you to leave all day. He throws his arm around you and lets you snuggle into your place on his shoulder. Or at least, it sure feels like it's your place. The movie goes on and you laugh together and almost cry together at one part. He tells himself that as soon as it's over, he'll walk you to the door, give you a quick kiss, and be done with it.

And then he hears how evenly you breathe and notices how limp your hand is on his knee.

You're asleep.

His heart leaps and he smiles. He can't make you go home now. It would just be irresponsible to send you driving off this sleepy. Instead, he turns and scoops you into his arms. He carries you up both flights of stairs to the bedroom and lays you in the bed, sliding in next to you. He's laying behind you, so he looks down at you and watches you sleep for a bit. Then, you roll over to face him. He moves your hair out of your face and kisses your forehead.

It takes everything in him not to whisper that he loves you.

******

The next morning, you wake up first. Elvis breathes softly next to you and you run your fingertips down his nose and jawline, where the shadow of his facial hair has appeared overnight. Your heart breaks a little when you realize this is the last time you'll wake up next to him for a while. Maybe ever. It certainly feels like there's something real between you, but you can never be sure. He is still married.

You're trying to hold back tears when he stirs and groans. He puts his arm around you and pulls you in close to him and then kisses your forehead.

"Good morning, baby."

"I'm sorry I fell asleep last night. We didn't even get to do a role play."

"Are you kidding? We role played a married couple all day. You falling asleep on the couch before we could have sex was just part of the act."

You both laugh and try to ignore the implications of what he's just said. To keep it light, he doubles down.

"Now I just need you to nag me all morning and then it'll feel more real." You sit up and grab a pillow, hitting him with it gently.

"Oh yeah? That's the kind of wife you think I'd be?"

"Is there such a thing as a wife that doesn't nag? You made me eat a vegetable."

"Elvis! You little shit! It's good for you!" You hit him again with the pillow and he grabs it.

"Ahh, stop, this is exactly what I'm talking about!" He hits you with the pillow and then wrestles you down on the bed until he's on top of you. He leans in and kisses you gently.

This time he undresses you both carefully, dropping kisses onto your skin whenever he gets a chance. He takes the time to caress your body and press his lips and tongue in all the right places. Your orgasm washes over you like water and runs out to the edges of you sensually. When he pushes into you, he goes slowly so that you can feel every inch of him. He's unbearably gentle and he kisses you deeply and passionately while he slides in and out. There's nothing rushed or harsh or animalistic in the way he meets your hips with his. And he's noticeably silent, only letting a soft moan escape him here and there. When he presses his forehead to yours and closes his eyes while he shudders and fills you with warmth, you realize what's happening.

He's making love to you.

And he's telling you goodbye.

When he's finished, he lays his head on your chest and you swear he's trying not to cry. You hold him and let the tears slide onto the sheets while he can't see them. He lays there for a while just trying to breathe and you finally get ahold of yourself.

"I should probably head out soon."

"Yeah, probably." He manages to drag himself up out of the bed and put some clothes on while you do the same and pack up all the things you've strewn around the room since you've been there. You do this in silence without meeting each other's eyes.

Finally, you find yourself at the door just standing in front of him and staring at your shoes. Your heart is pounding.

"You know, honey, we probably should... well... I don't know if we should..." You know what he's trying to say and if it's really the end then you have nothing to lose.

"Elvis..."

"Yeah?" He looks up at you nervously and you finally make eye contact.

"I love... being with you. But-" When you start the sentence his heart jumps into his throat, but the last half of it drops it to his stomach. Hearing you say the words might've changed his mind. But he can't be in a one-sided love affair. Not while he's still married.

"This is over." He says it with an undeniable finality that cuts through you like a knife.

"Okay. I understand."

"It's been really great. You're really great and I-"

"It's okay." You put your finger on his lips before he says something he doesn't mean. Then you turn and open the door and walk out to your car. You drive away and try not to let yourself cry. Elvis goes back in the house, picks up the closest knick knack, and throws at the wall as hard as he can.

He stands with his hands on his hips looking up at the ceiling, his flowered silk shirt sticking to his back from the sweat. You almost said it. You were so close. Do you love him? His mind races over all the times you were together: the way you breathed life into him with the cop scenario, how you laid together talking until the sun came up after the French maid, when you let him take that dirty picture of you and how you felt sleeping against his chest, and this weekend. This weekend. It's happened fast, but he's in love with you. The thought of never seeing you again, never feeling the calm that settles in him when you're around, never hearing your laugh, it's unbearable.

"Fuck it."

He grabs a set of keys and heads to the carport. He has to look to see which set he grabbed and makes his way to the Blackhawk, quickly unlocking it and sliding into the front seat.

As he drives, it starts to drizzle, but he makes his way across town quickly. Luckily, he remembers where your apartment is. When he gets to the complex, he swings into a parking space and gets out and stares at the buildings in front of him. He remembers the address, but not the apartment number.

"Goddammit." He goes from building to building trying to remember. He figures out which building it is, but doesn't know which staircase to use. Finally, he just looks up and yells at the top of his lungs.

"Y/N!!!!!"

You've been moping around the apartment for the last twenty minutes, just letting all the tears you've been holding in fall. Your hair is a mess and you probably have makeup everywhere. But it doesn't matter. Your heart is in pieces and you're about to just crawl in bed for the afternoon. That's when you hear him. You run to the window and open it. The rain is starting to come down pretty good now.

"Elvis! What are you doing here?!"

"COME DOWN HERE!"

"It's raining!"

"I'm aware! Come down here anyway!" Your heart is pounding in your chest with hope for why he's here. You run to the front door and open it. You don't even think to bring an umbrella or jacket or anything. You just walk out into the rain towards him. When you get to him, he stands in front of you breathing heavily.

"Elvis, what-?"

"I love you." It takes your breath away.

"You what?!"

"I-I-I I love you. I'm in love with you." You stand there in awe, heart stopped and breathing shallow. "And I don't even care anymore if you don't-"

"I love you, too, Elvis."

"You do?"

"Yes!! Of course I do!" He smiles and laughs, relaxing. Then, he steps forward and wraps you in his arms, capturing your lips in one of the most passionate kisses you've ever experienced. Your mouths move against each other in a rhythmic tandem that only the two of you understand. The rain continues, but you don't even notice how wet you are. There is only you and him and your love for each other. He scoops you into his arms and carries you up the stairs to your apartment, still kissing you. When you get there, he kicks the door open and carries you straight to the bedroom.

But this time you don't have sex. You strip off your wet clothes and lay naked in the bed together. No costumes, no props, no pretending. Just the two of you. You talk and laugh and kiss and the love between you grows stronger by the second. The situation around you may be complicated, but you and him together is not. You'll figure the rest of it out. You love him and he loves you. Nothing else matters.

******

The End

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @deltafalax

[tswaney17]

I Do Bad Things with You - Part 49

It's here!!! The final part of this massive fic. 😭 I can't believe we're finally at the end. I'm still in shock that I get to close the door on this fic that has taken up the last three years of my life. I have so many emotions running through me right now. 🥺

The epilogue will be posted during @elriel-month in addition to a little surprise I'm so excited to share with you. Stay tuned!! 💜💙💚

My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics​​​

My ao3 account: tswaney17

Please let me know what you think about this update. I love getting your feedback. Constructive criticism is always welcome. 💕

Catch up here.

Credit to @featherymalignancy for Cassian’s nickname, Cash. 😘

Trigger warnings: violence, sexual assault , language, NSFW

This part also features descriptions of birth and complications from it.

Word Count: 7,225

Elain had spent a good portion of the late morning getting ready for the baby shower scheduled for noon. At just over eight months pregnant, they were cutting close to the wire of the twins’ arrival.

She was beyond exhausted. Growing the babies was work enough, but she ached everywhere at this point. Her boobs, her hips, her ankles. Her back…that hurt the worst. She looked like she swallowed two extra large watermelons. Elain hadn’t seen her feet in two and half months and she was praying that her toenails looked well enough for sandals today.

On top of her aching body, she also slept like shit the night before, having woken up in the wee hours with Braxton Hicks contractions that seemed to never want to go away. They were getting obnoxious at this point.

Oh! And her boobs had already started leaking. Aside from the contractions, Elain also woke up to a soaked sleep shirt and an attitude that poor Azriel was desperately trying to keep calm. She felt bad that her irritation got directed at him, but he took her mood swings in stride, giving her the space when she needed it, and focusing on taking care of Kaden and getting him ready for the party.

Her husband knocked lightly before entering their bedroom, shutting the door behind him and locking it when he saw her standing there in an ugly pair of panties and a strapless bra—which she had no idea how it was going to hold up her tits, but here they were. “Hello, my love. How are you doing?” he asked, striding further into their room. He was already dressed in black slacks and a white button-down rolled up to his elbows. It was one of her favorite looks on him. Casual but classy and sexy as hell.

“I’m all right. Better than this morning,” which was true. In the time she took to get ready, she felt her irritation slowly dissipate. “I’m sorry for snapping at you.”

He gifted her a soft smile he reserved only for her and their children. “El, you’re carrying two babies. You’re allowed to let out your frustrations. I’m here to spar if you need it, you know that.”

She knew he meant spar as in letting her yell and shout and hiss words until she felt better while he just took it. Gods, he really was the perfect husband. Elain held out her coco butter lotion towards him. “Do you mind rubbing this on me and helping me dress?”

Azriel took the bottle from her outstretched hands, dropping a sweet kiss on her plump lips before squirting some into his scarred palms and gently rubbing it all over her swollen stomach. He knelt before her, dutifully getting every inch of her covered. “You are so beautiful, Elain,” he murmured, kissing her at the fullest part of her belly.

She snorted. “I am a beached whale who ate too much.”

“You are a gorgeous woman carrying life inside of her womb. That will always be beautiful, sweetheart.”

How he always knew what to say was beyond her, but she tugged him up off the ground to kiss him thoroughly. It should’ve annoyed her with how just a few sweeps of Azriel’s tongue had every concern and irritation simply melt away. He knew when to play that card and fuck did he play it well.

But even his tongue couldn’t stop the hiss of pain as another contraction wracked her body.

He immediately pulled back at the sound, eyes scanning her face. “Are you all right?” he asked, concern etched into the tone.

She breathed through the wave that tightened in her abdomen. “Braxton Hicks contractions,” she said as an explanation.

 His brows shot into his hairline. “Do we need to go to the hospital?”

Elain reached up to cup his cheek in her palm, her thumb swiping over the stubble there. “No, it’s a normal thing this late in the pregnancy. I’ve had a few this morning starting before dawn. It’s why I was grouchy.”

Understanding lit his face and he carefully ran his hand down her stomach again. “Why didn’t you wake me this morning?”

She huffed a laugh. “Because I knew you’d go into full-birthing-dad-mode and neither one of us would’ve slept any longer.”

Azriel shot her an unamused glare. “You will be thanking me for that birthing-dad mode when you’re in labor and I have everything packed up within minutes.”

This time Elain laughed loud and joyfully. “Yes, you’re probably right.” She nodded to the dress on the bed. “Help me slip that on?”

He grabbed the fabric, bunching it in his large fists, and pulled it over her head. It was an off-the-shoulder, loose, pale pink cotton dress, decorated with roses. It looked vintage, gathering just under her bust, with oversized puffy sleeves that sat off her shoulders, over her biceps. Ruffles accentuated the bottom hem, emphasizing the vintage style. It was the perfect spring dress. When Elain first saw it at the store, she knew she had to buy it for the shower.

Azriel tugged her loose curls from the back of the dress, letting them brush against her spine. He placed a kiss on her bare shoulder before grabbing the rose-pendant necklace he bought to go with the dress and draping it around her delicate neck. “Perfect,” he murmured onto her skin, his smile pressing against her neck.

Elain sighed softly, reaching up to thread her fingers through his dark hair. “How am I still horny for you?”

He nipped at her throat, a rumble shaking his chest. “Because you know I can deliver what you need without even blinking.”

This time she laughed, letting his hands run across her body in possessive little touches.

Azriel brazenly cupped her sex through the dress, growling as she let out a mewling sound and began to writhe against those skilled fingers, searching for the friction she desperately craved. “Would you like to fuck my hand, love?” he murmured, mouth grazing her jaw.

Elain fell slack against him, letting his strength hold her up. “Az,” she breathed, eyes fluttering shut as he began to rub her in earnest. “Please.”

He nipped the curve of her ear, tugging the lobe between his teeth. “You beg so prettily, El.” Bunching up the dress in a fist, Azriel slid her panties aside, swiping his fingers over her soaked pussy. “Fuck, baby. You’re so wet for me. Always desperate for my touch.”

She gripped him, nails digging into his exposed forearms. “I need—I need,” she panted out, wiggling in his hold. “Please, Az.”

Giving her exactly what she wanted—needed—Azriel sunk his middle finger into her aching cunt, pumping once before adding a second digit. “Such a good girl,” he whispered, thrusting in and out of her. The heel of his palm grazed her clit sending bolts of pleasure up her spine.

Elain bit her lip, stifling the moan that threatened to burst from her. His fingers scraped along that special spot inside of her, building her up and up and up until she teetered on the edge of bliss.

Barely conscious of her surroundings, Elain caught the sound of the door handle jiggling, followed by a “Momma!”

Azriel clapped a hand over her mouth as he continued his machinations. “Momma’s getting dressed, Kaden. We’ll be out in a minute,” he called out, pressing his palm firmly on her clit and sending her spiraling into her orgasm.

Too far gone to care, she tumbled into sweet oblivion, coming hard on his fingers. Elain moaned, only quieted by the muffling against her husband’s scarred hand.

He worked her through her release, slowing his movements when she started to come down from her high. Az peppered her skin with sweet kisses, removing his fingers from her pussy and readjusting her panties back into place before letting the dress fall back down. “Better, my love?”

“I’m gonna have to change my underwear, but yes.” She twisted in his arms, catching him sucking his fingers clean. Elain brought his mouth down to hers, tongue licking the drop of her release dotting his bottom lip. “Thank you, husband.”

He smiled into their kiss, deepening it once more. “I’ll go check on Kaden while you finish up. We’ll head out when you’re done.”

Twenty minutes later, they were in the car on their way to Rhys and Feyre’s place. It was a gorgeous day full of sunshine, the air warm with the oncoming of summer. It was as if even the Mother wanted to grace her presence on that day with her radiance. They really couldn’t have asked for a more beautiful day for a baby shower.

“Momma?” Kaden called from the back seat. “Where are we going?”

His speech had improved so much since they first brought him home that the therapist they hired had told them after the end of the school year, that he likely wouldn’t need to continue seeing a specialist to catch him up. He was reading and writing the way a five-year-old should be and was on track to pass kindergarten with flying colors.

She glanced over her shoulder at him. “Remember how we talked about going to Aunt Feyre and Uncle Rhys’s for the baby shower today.”

He seemed to think about that. “What’s a baby shower?”

Her lips quirked up at his curious mind. Thankfully, he hadn’t asked about where babies came from again. “It’s a party to celebrate the upcoming arrival of your brother and sister.” Her hand came to rest on her belly instinctively.

His face scrunched up. “Will I have to take a bath again?”

Azriel let out a snort, glancing at her. “It’s a fair question.”

She laughed. “No, sweetheart. Not that kind of shower. To shower with love. The party is just to celebrate the babies before they arrive.”

“Will there be cake?” he asked, excitement lighting up his face at the prospect of sweets.

“For my sister’s sake, there better be.” Elain’s late-stage pregnancy craving was anything sweet. Cookies, cakes, pastries, whatever she could get her hands on, she was eating it. Azriel was barely able to keep the pantry stocked with desserts for her to snack on.

Her husband chuckled. “If she doesn’t, we’ll stop by a bakery on our way home and get each of you a cake. How’s that sound?” he asked, grasping her hand and bringing it to his mouth to kiss her knuckles.

She grinned. “You spoil me.”

He looked at her then. “You deserve to be spoiled.”

They were fashionably late to their baby shower, and Elain completely blamed her husband’s morning sexual charade for the delay in their arrival. Not that she minded at all. She had another Braxton Hick contraction in the car, Azriel eying her with worry and once again asking if they should make a pitstop at the hospital just in case.

But that would’ve made them even more late and Elain knew it was unnecessary.

All of their friends and family were waiting for their arrival. And she hated being late.

“What am I going to do with you gone for six months, Elain?” Thesan teased, taking a sip of his beer.

She shot a devilish grin at the head nurse sitting on the couch across from her. “I’m sure Viv would love to pick up all the slack.”

Viviane squawked in outrage and pointed a menacing finger in her direction. “Don’t put your work on me while you’re enjoying your babymoon, Elain Archeron-Knight.”

The group laughed as she pushed herself up off the couch. Another contraction hit her and she winced, catching the attention of the sharp-eyed nurse. But before she could ask, Kaden came bounding up to her, tugging on the skirt of her dress.

“Momma, can I have a cake pop?” He looked up at her with those damn puppy eyes he knew she couldn’t resist.

Elain ran a hand through his hair. “Sure, sweetie. Only one. You don’t want to spoil your appetite for Uncle Cassian’s good barbeque.”

Said uncle was out in the backyard tending to the grill with her husband, Rhys, and the Moonbeam brothers because, apparently, that’s where men gathered. Aelin and Rowan had joined them, the former getting an eyebrow raise from Azriel at her company’s appearance.

She made her way to the kitchen, hoping to perhaps score one of those cake pops herself—she was the guest of honor, surely she could snag one too. Feyre, Nuala, and Cerridwen had been busy putting together the final touches for lunch and were just waiting for Cassian’s proteins to serve food.

But just as she reached the breakfast bar, a wave of excruciating pain washed over her. Catching herself on the counter, Elain gripped the side of her stomach, groaning loud enough that the other room went silent. And then she felt it. Liquid surged between her legs, puddling the floor beneath her.

No. No, it was too soon. They couldn’t be coming already.

Viviane rounded the corner from the living room as Feyre and the twins approached her.

Somebody breathed her name, but she couldn’t decipher who it was over the blood rushing in her ears.

More footsteps sounded as her friends and family came from the living room to see what was going on.

“Elain.” It was Feyre’s voice that broke through the fog of fear that had clouded her, but she was too numb to respond. Too nervous. “Somebody get Azriel!”

Her panic grew and her breathing turned shallow. It was too soon. She wasn’t ready, wasn’t prepared enough. The anxiety of giving birth hit her like a freight train.

She couldn’t do this.

She couldn’t.

~~~~~

Azriel took a swig of his beer, rolling his eyes at the cad comment Rhys made. His tanned skin warmed in the sunlight even with the sleeves of his button-down rolled up to his elbows. With a glance at the large window, he caught Elain rising from her spot on the couch, Kaden gripping her dress to speak with her.

Gods, that fucking dress. Elain looked like a maternal goddess in it, emphasizing her swollen belly, brimming with the life of his children. Az never realized he had a breeding kink until he and Elain got back together. His desire to fill her with his seed, to watch her grow with life had him hardening in his pants.

Now at eight months, she had reached the stage where little things irked the hell out of her. Honestly, her temper was cute as hell, but he tried to be considerate of her exhaustion and short-fuse, offering himself up to take the heat of her ire. It was only fair—he’s the one that got her pregnant.

It may have made him a primitive, alpha-douchebag, but fuck did he love to see her waddling around, pregnant and barefoot in their home. She was already such a wonderful mother to their boy, Kaden. Cassian had been right. He was so incredibly grateful for Elain’s maternal instinct.

“Something caught your eye, brother?” Cassian taunted, grinning. His brother knew exactly what he was looking at. Or whom.

He shot him a dry look that had Cash chuckling.

“If she wasn’t already pregnant, I’d say that look alone could’ve knocked her up,” he teased. “Who knew you had such a kink, Az.”

Azriel opened his mouth to retort, but the sliding glass door opening caught his attention.

Nuala peeked her head out, a worried look on her face that had his stomach tightening in knots. “Azriel! Get in here now!”

But he was already moving, dropping his drink on the table and running after her into the house, his brothers and friends hot on his heels. He froze in the entryway of the kitchen, taking in the scene for a split second before his eyes settled on Elain bent over the counter, a puddle of clear liquid beneath her.

His feet ate up the space between them in three long strides, her name falling from his lips as he cupped her face and forced her gaze on his. Azriel prided himself in knowing exactly what Elain was feeling, what she was thinking by just the look on her face. He read her better than he did himself. So, seeing the blatant apprehension and worry written as clearly as a tattoo on her forehead had his heart racing in his chest.

Her eyes were wet with the tears he could tell she was trying to hold back.

“Love,” he said quietly, unsure how to proceed at the moment.

She blinked like hearing him cleared a bit of the fog that had washed over her. “Azriel.” Her voice cracked.

He folded her into his arms, trying to soothe whatever worries were troubling her. “You’re okay, my love.”

Elain seemed to melt in his embrace, her tension slowly ebbing away the longer he held her. He gave her whatever time she needed, ignoring the audience they had around them, but it was long enough for another contraction to hit. She cried out, gripping his hand in hers and squeezing tight.

Viviane snapped into action at that. “Azriel, her contractions are about nine minutes apart now. She’s going to have at least two more by the time you reach the hospital.”

“No hospitals,” Elain growled.

That had him pulling back to look down at her. “El, the babies are coming—”

“No. Hospitals.” He could see the wavering in her face. “I—,” she paused, hesitating. “They’re not ready. It’s too early. Too soon. They can’t come out yet…” Her head fell until she was looking at the wetness still sitting on the floor. “I’m not ready,” Elain whispered so quietly, that he almost missed it.

Azriel knew that was nerves speaking. While Kaden made them parents, the idea of giving birth to the twins was the primary source of her fear. The books he read said that many expectant mothers experienced this type of anxiety right around the time they went into labor. If they were going to have any success in her having a smooth birth, Azriel needed to get her to calm down. He glanced at Cassian. “Can you get her a chair?”

His brother grabbed one from the dining room, setting it out for Az to carefully guide Elain into. He knelt in front of her, keeping her hands clasped firmly in his. “Elain, sweetheart,” her dark eyes latched onto his, needing to hear his reassurance. He kept his voice low, wishing they didn’t have to have this conversation in front of their friends and family.

Rhys seemed to sense that and began ushering people out of the room. “Let’s give the couple a few minutes.”

He shot his brother a grateful look before returning his attention to Elain. “Sweetheart, I know you’re scared. I know it’s earlier than we were expecting. But if there is one thing that I am certain of is that you can do this.” He squeezed her hands in comfort. “You are the strongest person I know. You’ve been through so much that once all is said and done, you’re going to look at me and tell me that this was the easy part. I promise you that if anyone can do this, it’s you. And I will be right by your side for every step, holding your hand, giving you ice chips, and bearing whatever you need me to bear to bring our children into the world.”

She sniffed, a small smile tugging at her lips. “You’re sure?”

“Without a doubt, Elain. You can do this.” He brought their joined hands up to his mouth, kissing her fingers and letting her absorb whatever confidence she needed. “So, what do you say? Are you ready to have our babies, love?”

Elain huffed a laugh, his words settling the nerves she had. “Yes, let’s go have our babies,” she breathed, her grin taking over her entire face, lasting all of thirty seconds before a look of panic took root once more. “Az, the birthing bag is still at the house.”

He let out an undignified snort. “Do you think after having that contraction in front of me this morning, I’d leave the house without having absolutely everything packed and ready to go? Come on, baby, you know me better than that. It’s all in the back of the car.”

She blinked in surprise. “The birthing bag and my pillow?”

“In the car,” he confirmed.

“Kaden’s overnight bag?”

“In the car.”

“The car seats for the twins?”

He scoffed. “You know I installed those weeks ago, try again.”

Her lips quired up at the corner. “What about the slippers I was wearing this morning?” she asked, thinking she had him.

Az rolled his eyes in playful exasperation. “I grabbed them when I snagged the birthing bag.” He kissed her hands again. “I’ve got you, love.”

And then she was leaning forward, kissing him with so much love and devotion, he felt it down to the soul she brought back to life. The sound of their family’s cheers forced them apart, a pretty blush dusting the tops of Elain’s cheeks, but she didn’t dare look away from him.

Without looking away from her, Azriel reached into his pocket, pulled out his keys, and tossed them to Rhys. “Can you grab Kaden’s bag from the trunk? The one with dinosaurs. And then Elain’s purple one as well.”

Elain’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Why is he grabbing mine?”

His lips pulled up into a knowing grin, brushing the shell of her ear as he leaned forward to whisper, “I thought you might like to change your underwear and put on a maternity pad for the ride to the hospital.”

Her cheeks heated in embarrassment, but she nodded in agreement.  

A little body shuffled closer. “Momma?” Kaden murmured, looking so very worried over the state of his mother.

She held her arms out, motioning him forward. “C’mere sweetheart.” Elain tucked him into her chest, kissing the top of his head. “You’re going to stay here with Aunt Feyre and Uncle Rhys while Daddy and I go to the hospital to have your brother and sister.”

He looked up at her with those puppy-dog eyes and damn, the kid knew how to work them. “But I want to go with you!” His lower lip quivered and Azriel could tell he was on the verge of tears.

But his wife took it in stride, cupping his little face in her palms and swiping her thumbs across his cheeks. “I know, sweetheart. I know you do. But you’ll have a much better time here with your aunt and uncle. Momma’s not going to be fun to be around until your siblings are here.” She kissed his plump cheek. “But I promise that you will be the first to see us once they arrive. Okay?”

Feyre stepped forward, reaching out a hand for their son. “Come on, Kaden. We’ll have lots of fun eating all the desserts left over.” She shot them a wink when he finally relented, taking her fingers.

After cleaning her up as best as he could and getting her a maternity pad from her bag, he and Elain were in the car on the way to the hospital. As Viviane predicted, she had two more contractions on the way, grabbing his offered hand and the “oh shit” bar as she groaned her way through it. And then promptly went into a third one right as they arrived.

Az timed them out, still sitting about nine minutes apart. “Breathe, baby. Good, love. Just like that.” His thumb grazed the back of her hand. Her grip was tight, on the verge of painful, but he didn’t dare let his face flinch or show an ounce of discomfort. She needed his strength and that’s exactly what he was going to give her.

They were immediately escorted to their private room and Elain’s vitals were checked over. She was sitting at only two centimeters dilated, which meant they were looking at being there for a bit.

Between her contractions, he swapped out his clothes for a fitted black t-shirt and grey sweatpants to get more comfortable and then sent a text to their siblings to notify them that they were in and settled, but it would be a while before they would have any progress.

“Can you check in with Kaden?” Elain asked, taking a scoop of ice chips from her cup.

The corner of his lips curled up at the question. “I already did. Feyre said he wouldn’t leave the front window for a while and had to persuade him with his baby cousin and a lot of sweet treats.”

She snorted, shaking her head. “He’s going to have a mouth full of cavities before we get home.” Elain twisted to look at him. “Do you think we made the right decision by not letting him come with us? It sounds like he’s waiting for us to return. I know that some families let their little ones be present for the birth of their siblings and we discussed it—”

He interrupted her train of thought. “I think we made the right call, love. We’re going to be here for a while and we both know that things can upset him. I don’t know how well he’d handle watching you go through that.”

She nodded but didn’t look very convinced.

Azriel reached for her hand, covering it with his own and squeezing her fingers. “He’s safe and well-cared for. Remember that while we focus on bringing his little brother and sister into the world.” He brushed his lips over her knuckles in a sweet kiss.

Elain smiled softly at him. “Okay.”

And so, they waited.

Per his wife’s birthing plan, she wanted to attempt to go natural. Azriel admired her strength and resilience in doing so. But after over sixteen hours of hard labor, he could see her resolve fading.

He stroked her cheek, fingers brushing hair behind her ear. “Talk to me, sweetheart.”

Dark circles already lined the underneath part of her eyes. She looked so weary. “I’m so tired, Az.” Her voice came out nearly broken and fuck if that didn’t just rip his beating heart from his chest.

Kissing her forehead, he murmured, “Do you want to get the epidural? It’ll help you get some much-needed rest before the delivery.” As of now, she was only at seven centimeters and the doctor had said it could still be a while longer until she reached a full ten.

Her chin dipped in confirmation. “Please.”

Azriel didn’t waste time calling for the nurse. Within ten minutes, he watched as a grossly large needle was inserted into her back, sending that relief washing over her. He peppered her face with kisses during the procedure, murmuring words of praise and comfort in her ear as she gritted her teeth through it.

Elain spent the next eight hours in a fitful sleep, dosing off and waking up not long after each time. Azriel didn’t bother to try and sleep, not when she wasn’t really getting much at all.

But finally, after just past nine, she was fully dilated and ready to push.

His wife pushed and pushed and pushed for a half hour with nothing to show for it. She was in tears, frustrated, and so exhausted he was practically supporting all her weight having slid an arm around her shoulders to keep her upright.

“I can’t, I can’t,” she sobbed, half burying her face into his chest.

“You can, love. You’re so strong. Just a little bit more,” he tried to reassure her. It fucking killed him to see her like this.

“Can’t you do it for me?” she pleaded, looking up at him with wild, desperate eyes.

He gripped her cheek in his palm, kissing her temple. “You know I would, El. I would give anything to switch places with you right now. But I know you can do this. Just a few more pushes and then they’ll be here.”

Whatever she read within his words seemed to do the trick, her brows furrowing with a determination he hadn’t seen since they left the house. Elain pushed herself up, trying to get into a kneeling position, and he was right there, sliding behind her and supporting her weight.

The nurses squawked, muttering something about hospital policy, but frankly, he did not give a fuck, snarling, “Her body is telling her to push like this. Listen to your fucking patient.”

Changing the position was exactly what she needed because their son was born within the next two contractions, entering the world with a healthy set of lungs.

They sagged back against the pillows, his face wet with tears as they placed their new baby directly on Elain’s bared chest. He couldn’t stop himself from tipping her head back to kiss her softly on the lips, pausing the savor the moment.

Az traced the pads of his fingers over the curve of their boy’s cheek, just needing to touch him to prove he was here with them. Even covered in fluids, he was so beautiful. The perfect blend of the two of them.

The nurses gave them just a few minutes with the first baby before Doctor Chen said that she needed to start pushing again. She took their boy from Elain’s arms, promising to bring him back for Azriel after he was cleaned up and their daughter was born.

Delivery of their little girl went easier than with their son. But whereas their boy came out crying, their daughter came out silent.

Azriel knew something was wrong just by the silence, but it only grew the anxiety in his stomach when the doctor turned her back on them, taking their little one with her to work on.

“She’s not crying,” Elain breathed, worry clouding her voice.

He could only squeeze her shoulders in comfort, watching as they shoved things into her nose and mouth.

“Suction,” Chen ordered.

“Azriel, why isn’t she crying?”

“She’s going to be okay, love. They’re helping her. She’s okay.” The words passed his lips even as his heart dropped into his stomach when they started doing compressions on her tiny body.

No.

This couldn’t be happening. They couldn’t lose her. It would kill him to lose his little girl, but Elain, fuck, he couldn’t even begin to fathom the devastation she would face at this loss. There was nothing he could do. He couldn’t pay to fix this or threaten someone to save their baby girl.

So, he did what any father would do.

He prayed.

He prayed to every god, every deity, everything, and anything he could think of to keep his little girl safe and bring her back to them. To take her place if they demanded it. A life for a life. He’d pay it for his child, his family. “Come on,” he murmured. “Come on, baby. Come on.”

Elain curved her face into the side of his chest, howling in a way he’d never heard from her before.

His arms went around her, that dreaded feeling turning his blood cold. The terror he felt of their little one dead before she lived was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. But still, he did not stop praying, clutching Elain’s shaking body to his. “Come on, little one. Come on!” he chanted. “Please.”

And then, a rattled cough tore from her tiny body, followed by the sweet, beautiful sound of her cry.

Elain’s wail turned into relieved sobs, as the doctor walked over their bundled little girl and placed her into his wife’s awaiting arms.

“Somebody was just so excited to meet you, she took a breath a little too early, but we cleared out her passages and lungs and she looks good now.”

His wife tucked their daughter into her chest, kissing the top of her head. “Hi sweet girl, Momma’s here,” she whispered, tears still falling down her cheeks. Tears that matched the ones running down his face.

She was here. His baby girl. Fuck, she looked just like him, with dark hair and tanned skin. He hadn’t gotten a look at her eyes yet, but already she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“Here you go, Mr. Archeron-Knight,” one of the other nurses said, pulling his attention from his wife and daughter as she handed him his son, cleaned up and wrapped in a soft blanket.

The small bundle was gently laid in the crook of his elbow. Azriel didn’t think he’d ever feel the amount of love he did on Kaden’s adoption day, but sitting here with his gorgeous wife, holding their newborn twins, he felt his heart soar in his chest.

Sweaty and fatigued, Elain glanced up at his face, the sweetest, exhausted smile pulling on her lips. “I love you,” she murmured.

He let out a sound that was a cross between a chuckle and a sob. “I love you more.” And then he kissed her, sealing that moment in time with his undying love for her.

~~~~~

Elain woke to the sound of a whimpering cry, swiftly followed by Azriel’s low voice.

“Hey, sweet girl. What’s wrong, huh?” She heard some shuffling as her husband lifted their daughter from the nursery bed. “Momma needs her sleep so we need to be quiet.” He kept his voice low enough to not disturb her—fuck she loved him so much—but she was already awake, rolling over in the hospital bed to face him.

Azriel holding his children was, hands down, the sexiest thing she’d ever seen. How she could even feel the need for him after pushing two babies out of her currently aching and severely injured body was beyond her, but just watching him bounce their fussing daughter made all those desires come roaring to the surface.

Almost as if he could sense her presence, hazel eyes slid to hers. “I’ve got her, love. Go back to sleep.” His voice remained soft as night as if anything louder would disturb her.

She curled up on her side, watching him. “I think we should get used to no sleep now.”

He huffed a laugh, patting Rosalie on her back as she further settled into the crook of his elbow.

Their daughter was almost two pounds smaller than her brother, coming in right at five whereas Ryder was a healthy six pounds, fourteen ounces. The doctor was a little concerned over Rosalie’s lower birth weight, but Elain had managed to get both babies to latch and feed earlier and she ate well, so they were mainly playing it by ear.

Because of her smaller size, Azriel already placed an order for some preemie clothes and sent a photo of her with the twins to their siblings. They asked to give them a day to recuperate before coming to the hospital in the morning. After the scare with Rosalie, both she and Azriel wanted to take some time to spend with the babies. Plus, the medical team was in and out of their room, taking Rosalie for some additional tests just to be sure everything looked good.

It was just after seven that night, and they were settling in for the evening. Tired of hospital food, Azriel ordered hamburgers from DoorDash for them to eat. Elain was starving and it sounded so good that she drooled when she suggested it to him. Both babies had been fed only an hour earlier and she anticipated not having another feeding till late evening or early morning.

Elain grabbed whatever sleep she could, knowing she’d need it when they were released in a couple of days, but she was sure Azriel hadn’t slept a wink since she’d gone into labor.

She pushed herself up, reclining on her pillows. The nurses cleaned her after the delivery and stitched her up from tearing, but Elain couldn’t wait to get home and take a proper shower. “Does she need to be changed?” she asked, nodding to the now-sleeping baby in her husband’s arms.

Azriel shook his head. “No, I think she was just fussing.” His dark hair was still mussed up from when he stripped out of his shirt earlier, taking time for skin-to-skin contact with each of the twins.

Elain had to rein in her laugh at how the nurse blushed as he revealed miles of gloriously tanned, tattooed skin and corded muscle. Her husband was a fine specimen, but he never flaunted it, so seeing another woman react to it was humorous especially since he didn’t even seem to notice her blushing, stammering state.

“You should sleep too, Az,” she said instead.

He looked at her, his lips curving up. It had been doing that a lot since the birth of the twins. The sweetest, smallest smile that crept up the corners of his mouth. Almost as if he didn’t even realize he was doing it. It was utterly adorable and made him look younger. “I’ll rest later. You need it more than me.”

Her shoulders shook in amusement. “You know, we can sleep when they do.”

“I just don’t want to miss a second of them.” His attention returned to his little girl who already had him wrapped around her finger. To be fair, all of their children did. “Fuck, I can’t believe they’re here already. It seems like it was only a month ago you found out you were pregnant.”

“I can’t believe our first anniversary is coming up in just a handful of weeks.”

At that, he laughed. “I guess a trip for our anniversary is out of the question?”

She grinned. “Not unless all our little ones are coming with us.” Because like hell was she going to be able to leave them so soon. Plus with her nursing, it just wouldn’t be ideal.

He seemed to consider her. “We could take the jet to the Summer District. Kaden will be out of school then and we’ll both still be out on leave. Just a thought.”

Gods, he was fucking perfect. “That might be nice.”

A knock on the door interrupted whatever he was going to say. He frowned in confusion, looking at her.

Elain shrugged, sitting up further on her bed. “Come in,” she called out.

She thought it might be a nurse or a doctor, coming to check on her or the twins. What she didn’t expect was for Rhys to peek his head into the room. Surprise lit her features and she glanced at Azriel, who looked equally as bewildered at the sudden visit from their brother.

“Hey,” Rhys said. “I apologize for dropping by unannounced, but somebody really couldn’t wait till tomorrow to see you.” He opened the door slightly, revealing Kaden clutching a teddy bear, eyes puffy and red from crying.

Her heart ached at the distress their son must’ve been in for Rhys to come all the way here. “Hello sweetheart,” she said, keeping her voice soft. “Come here, my love.”

He took a small step further into the room, Rhys’s hand guiding him at the backside of his head. Kaden took slow steps as he approached the side of her bed. “Momma, are you sick?”

She reached out to cup his cheek in her palm. “No, baby. I’m not sick. Your brother and sister decided it was time to come out of my tummy.” Her eyes found Azriel’s as he rose from his seat on the couch, moving toward them. “Would you like to meet them?” she asked, returning her gaze to Kaden’s.

His head dipped in confirmation.

Elain pushed herself back even more. “Rhys, can you help him up and then grab me that flat pillow over there.”

He set the boy on the bed between her spread legs, Kaden shuffling backward and bumping into her sensitive lower area.

She hissed out in pain before she could stop herself. A wave of agony washed over her with enough intensity that her stomach curdled with nausea.

Azriel reacted immediately. “Easy, buddy. Momma’s going to be sore for a while and we need to be extra careful with her.”

“I’m okay,” she spoke quickly, not wanting to upset Kaden any more than he already was, and kissed his plump cheek as she breathed through the pain. “Okay, Rhys. Place the pillow over our laps.”

Adjusting his arms in preparation, Azriel gently lowered their daughter until she comfortably rested on the nursing pillow.

“Kaden, this is your sister, Rosalie,” he announced, letting his finger stroke her rounded cheek.

Elain couldn’t see his face directly, but she did catch his eyes widening as he stared down at her, his fingers carefully tracing over her delicate features just as his father did.

“Rosawee,” he said, not quite catching the ending syllable. It would be something they would have to work on. When she kicked a leg within her swaddle, he pulled his hand back, startled.

She laughed, feeling the bed dip as Azriel sat down next to them, bringing over their son. “And this is your brother, Ryder.”

He reached out to trace the outline of his brows, the touch gentle and exploratory. “I’m a brother?” he asked, turning his head to look up at her.

“That’s right sweetheart. You’re their big brother, and they’re going to love you so much,” she told him, kissing the top of his head.

Elain took in her family, her incredible husband, and three beautiful children. It sounded so wild to even think about. She was a wife and a mother. Thinking back, she remembered the day that had changed the trajectory of her life forever. The bank robbery a few years back. It was crazy to think how such a terrifying moment altered her life in the best of ways. It brought her back to the love of her life.

It put her on this very path.

She’d face every one of the moments since then tenfold as long as it brought her to this point in time, sitting here with her gorgeous little family.

“Perfect.”

She looked up at Rhys, catching him with his phone out.

“Your first family photo.”

Her lips turned up and silver lined her eyes. “Thank you, Rhys.”

He waved her off. “Do you want me to take Kaden back with me?”

“No,” Azriel said, ruffling his eldest son’s hair. “He can stay here with us tonight. Can you put his booster seat in our car? The keys are in my bag.”

“You got it.” He grabbed the keys but paused on the threshold. “And congratulations you guys. Rosalie and Ryder are beautiful.”

Azriel leaned further into her side, kissing her temple. “Thank you, brother.” Once alone, he turned her head toward his, bringing her mouth to his for a slow, sweet kiss. “I love you so damn much, Elain.”

His smile was infectious, making her lips turn up at the corners. “Thank you, Azriel, for giving me this life—these babies. You have made me the happiest I could ever imagine. I love you.”

“Momma! She’s got my finger,” Kaden’s giggle interrupted their moment.

They laughed, looking at their three beautiful children.

Elain knew that this perfect moment was just the very beginning of the rest of their lives.

~~~~~

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[bainutwater85]

Rock Lee nsfw hcs pleaseee I feel like he’s such a sub. Bonus points if reader has piercings n tattoos and is more masc

yesss anon, i love him sm!! they could never make me hate THE ROCK LEE. and also sorry if the last pic doesn’t look like him in boruto or in the arc where naruto and hinata got married lol they don’t have many pics of him when he’s older and idk why cause he’s such a cutiee.

a/n: i hope this doesn’t bother you but i don’t really like writing masc readers? it’s kinda not my cup of tea same as male readers😅 i usually only write fem readers w fem parts, yknow? but i can improvise and make the reader somewhat masc ^_^. Also sorry for my absence. i’ve been job hunting and trying to muster up enough money for my necessities like getting my phone repaired & paying off 2 of my bills. I might end up doing commissions soon if i don’t find a job yet. Just waiting for my employer to email me saying i have the job😊👍🏾

cw: dom!reader, whiny!sub!rock lee, edging, overstim, deepthroating, cockwarming, cumplay

no matter how much he whines and tells you to stop messing around when you’re on top of him, has his cock in ur mouth or the pad of your thumb swirling around his purplish and swollen tip— he really does enjoys it and 9/10 doesn’t want you to stop at all.

very sensitive. like from the neck to his balls…n gets really nervous when you find your way to any of those parts especially while you two are in public.

i feel like even if you aren’t dominant..you’d still need to initiate the first move snd the ones after the first move because he’s as nervous as ever. Not saying he never got any play..and yeah he knows what he’s doing but he doesn’t always want to be the one in control, yknow? can’t blame him tbhh.

his nose, cheeks, and ears get all red and his eyes watery while you still make your hands up and down on his slender shaft for the last hour or so. overstimulating him and making him beg , chase for his own orgasm. He goes to grab your wrist with a shaking hand but fails because you rubbed that one little vein on his cock that made him reach the stars, his cum splurging all over himself snd you.

speaking OF cum. whenever he cums on your command or when you’re feeling nice to not make him wait for his own release. You give him a helping (?) hand while you rub and lick up his mess that’s spread all over his toned stomach like jelly.

he loves a lady with some muscles. not too buff or defined but sharp enough to where you can see it when she flexes intentionally or unintentionally. (tenten) he pays attention to small stuff, even when he’s trying not to cum inside your tight hole. like the tendon that shows on your back when you move around w little with his cock nearly pushing against that soft spot inside you.

definitely not into any of that hardcore dom stuff..like rimjobs and pegging. He prefers to keep his submission elsewhere,, yknow?? that’s not his type of flavor to be diddled with in the butt..his butt.

if you can’t fuck him, he’ll definitely let you suck him. hands free while he works or does whatever he does on his spare time that doesn’t involve moving and running like w chicken without a head. So there you are, snugged between his legs on the couch with his tip, almost far down your esophagus. Eyes water and your toes curling, toenails leaving crescent shaped marks in the bottom of your feet. He doesn’t look at you because if he does..he just knows it’ll be a big mess or awkward looks exchanged between the two of you. Adam’s apple faulting back as he gulps, trying to get a glance at your messy and wet face from your spit, his cum and precum like a naughty child.

but he ends up risking it all and tossing the remote to the side before gripping on your head snd pushing you further down on his cock. Exasperated moans of relief fall from his lips when his eyes roll to the back of his hands nd his hips slightly buck. You groan and moan with a mouthful of cock n cum. But it’s okay, he’s fine, who would get mad at him tho?

[amymbona]

if you need challengers ideas I have A LOT but rn my mind is clouded with some angsty Patrick stuff?

like it could be enemies to lover or fwb but then you get distant cuz you feel like you're falling in love and then patrick just do anything in his power to not lose you, truly anything as long as we get an ANGRY LOVE CONFESSION FROM HIM PLS <333

Honestlyyy this took me like a week to write this and I don't really like it. I feel like this topic could make up for a whole fanfic, not just a one shot. But I hope you'll like it :)

Warnings: angst, cursing,

Word count: 3,2 K

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

You and Patrick were never that close. Mostly, you were Tashi's best friend and he was Art's best friend. There were some shots and awkward hugs shared when Patrick would come to visit his girlfriend and best friend at Stanford, being introduced to one another. At first, you weren't particularly fond of his habits - mainly smoking - and the foul language. But soon, you came to understand his special bond with Art (who you've managed to grow pretty close to as a result of him always hanging out with you and Tashi) and learned to respect him as your best friend's boyfriend. All in all, he turned out to be a pretty chill guy.

Eventually, you'd got to discover what kind of a person Patrick Zweig is. Overly confident and sure of his actions but rolling eyes with offense the second someone questions his choices. Loud, a bit more touchy for your liking and definitely a bit too comfortable sharing his sexual fantasies, but above all, a person driven entirely in the direction where his heart beats.

Initially, Patrick was the person to light the first cigarette between your lips and convince you to have pity for Art's puppy eyes and show him your tits. He had played the role of a perfect matchmaker, for god knows however reason. You two would exchange phone numbers and wish each other merry Christmas a happy birthday. He became your friend. 

After the complete disaster following Tashi's knee injury, the two of you ended up kicked away like two stray dogs, portrayed as the biggest pieces of shit. Patrick, you could understand. Because some time after that, you came to discover he only set you up with Art because he knew that his best friend was after his girlfriend. But in the end, the only person who had the right to yell at him for being such an asshole was you. Not Tashi, nor Art. And you, for reasons still unexplained (perhaps for not abandoning your friendship with Patrick) were tilted a traitor by your former best friend. This was the very end of your four way friendship. 

Fast forward, college was over. You went your way, pursuing your career. Patrick's number remained in your phone and, again, you'd only text each other for important anniversaries. However, all of that changed when he called you one random evening, evidently with too much alcohol running through his veins.

"I miss you." he hiccuped, the distinct chatter on his side of the line making it harder for you to hear what he was saying. 

"Patrick." you sighed, knowing damn well he's simply drunk and thought he must have dialed a wrong number. 

But the ever so persistent individual, he kept talking. "I think about you a lot, y'know, from time to time."

"You're drunk, Patrick." another sigh escaped your pursed lips, gaze focused on applying another coat of red polish to your toenail. "Where are you?" 

"Where the fuck would I be, Y/N? 'm getting wasted." Patrick's words were followed by a fit of laughter, not sure if his own or anyone else's. "Trynna forget about everyone. Not you, though." 

"Not me?"

"Just those two fuckers."

Of course. Ever since the painful split, Patrick had his own way of dealing with things, and that would mainly include getting totally wasted and babbling crap about being so deeply betrayed as if he was Jesus on the cross. 

That night, Patrick ended up at your place, upon you picking him up from the place which was, coincidentally, not too far from your current home. To put it simply, the two of you ended up in the world's messiest and smelliest make out session, Patrick's alcohol breath enveloping you from all directions. It was a vague attempt to get him out of the skinny pair of his jeans that he mistook for you wanting to suck his dick. Almost teary eyed, he begged you to let him fuck you, that it would make everything better for both of you. That it would have been a perfect revenge on Tashi and Art for breaking both of your hearts, even though they would had no way of discovering it. 

To this day, the revenge mindset continues corrupting both of your minds, or perhaps, it just gives you an excuse to keep fucking with each other. Patrick Zweig is a frequent visitor at your apartment, occupying your bed and drinking from your favourite tea cups while spitting some lines along "That nightie looks fucking sexy, but you should take it off," or "I could bend you over that counter." 

Your encounters basically spin around Patrick tearing off whatever you're wearing and covering your whole body with kisses. He whispers surprisingly sweet nothings into your ear while his hands rediscover the curves of your body. He eats you out like there's no tomorrow, making love to your pussy with his mouth. His tongue reaches places, drinking in your sweet nectar and making your back arch and hips grind against his face. He relishes the feeling of your thighs squeezing his head until he's certain his skills might burst soon, and that is all worth it. For Patrick, everything is worth it, if, by the end of it, he gets you to cum all over his face.

"Pat I- 'm close." your voice gets broken mid sentence, hips buckling up to meet Patrick's mouth. 

"Good, baby, good," he coddles, words muffled against your warm skin, tongue circling around your clit as his pointer and middle finger keep pumping in and out. "Just let go honey." 

And you do, moaning his name, hands tightening where they are tangled in his hair. Both of you are on cloud nine - your, from the heavenly orgasm and Patrick, from the sweet delight in your strained voice.

He remains in the bed next to you for a while, holding you and stroking your hair, while the conversation slowly dies. But the moment Patrick attempts to settle under the sheets, you kick him off, insisting on having to get up early in the morning. 

"I don't get it, Y/N," Patrick huffs as he buttons up his pants, eyes roaming up and down over your bare figure while you reach for your nightie. "I make you cum so loud you might wake up the whole street and now you're kicking me out." 

"I'm not kicking you out Patrick." you mumble, sliding into your slippers. 

But Patrick doesn't buy your bullshit. "You are. And it's not the first time you're doing it." 

He seems to see right through you, to know that you're perfectly capable of getting up early and performing your whole morning routine with him occupying your bed. No. There is more to that, much more that you're not telling him. And he wants so bad to have you tell him the truth. 

"You could just let me stay here, y'know. I'm not a thief or something." Patrick continues, a half ironic smile on his face as he moves closer towards you. His hands find place on your hips and he pulls your back into his chest. "You're not afraid of me, are you?" 

Afraid? That is the lightest way to put it. Actually, you are beyond terrified, completely spooked by the idea of opening up to someone who used to be your best friend's boyfriend. To someone who's dick you're taking into your mouth multiple nights per week. And that is exactly where it has to end, that is where you have to set a clear boundary for Patrick to cross.

"Where was I ever afraid of you, Patrick?" you scoff, turning around in Patrick's arms. It almost breaks your heart when you are met with an unusually soft smile on his face, knowing damn well Patrick is interpreting this in a completely different way. 

It's not that you don't want to love Patrick, no, quite the opposite. But you know the two of you wouldn't be able to last. Despite allowing to discover each other's gentle side and showing one another unusual forms of comfort that both of you clearly needed, you two are still so incredibly different.

Patrick Zweig is the epitome of chaos. While he's all heart, he has little to no sense of understanding in some situations that are important to you. In stark contrast to your gentle life, Patrick is reckless and hazards in various ways. Perhaps it fills his need for adrenaline, for being seen by large groups of people and adored for that big bad wolf persona he's built up during his years of tennis. 

You, on the other hand, strive for a more gentle life. After all that you've experienced at your young age, you already feel burnt out, and can't really imagine the idea of shaking your ass at bars and clubs to loud music and getting wasted. What you need is comfort and someone who's on the same emotional level with you. And while Patrick can provide what you need, from time to time, you're afraid it won't be able to last. Hence the cold shoulder. 

"Then why are you pushing me away constantly?" he presses, a small pout on his lips. His gaze drops to your own, desiring to taste you once again. "Can I kiss you?" 

It pains you to refuse him. "Just go." 

Over the next few days, Patrick sends you various messages, even attempts to call you. Your phone keeps beeping and vibrating, but you keep ignoring every single attempt of his, reminding yourself that it's for the better. Patrick will be alright, you're sure of it, he always is. He'll find a new girl - in a pub, on Tinder, anywhere - who he'll fall into and he'll reciprocate his feelings. 

It comes off as a surprise when you bump into him one day in the grocery store, thinking he might be out of the city. After all, he rarely stays there, usually just coming to visit you specifically, staying for the night and then being gone for a few days. 

"Y/N." a small smile tugs onto Patrick's lips as he sees you, eyes roaming over your form and groceries filled arms. "Need some help?" 

"No, no, I'm good." with a shake of your head, you reject his advances and move forward, shoulder mildly bumping into his. Better to keep it simple. 

"What the hell's your deal?" Patrick retorts, immediately moving after you. His voice rises, earning a glance from some people in the aisle, but that doesn't concern him.

You just shrug, an expression of indifference on your face. "Nothing." 

A hand on your arm stops you and you're pulled back against Patrick. He manages to keep himself casual, the touch moving onto your lower back, so as not to draw any suspicion and he even swiftly catches a packaging of toast bread that slips from your hold. "Don't bullshit me, Y/N. You've been ignoring me for like two weeks. That's not like you." 

"I'm not ignoring you." your eyes roll and you snatch the toast bread from his hands. 

"You are, Y/N." he presses, gaze roaming all over your gruff expression. "Can't you just tell me what's wrong?" 

"Nothing's wrong Patrick, my god, just mind your own business." 

You leave him in there, standing in the middle of the aisle, surrounded by strangers and his own miserable thoughts. Poor Patrick is clueless, unable to understand what the hell he has done to you for you to suddenly cross his name out like that.

The calls and messages get even worse, he's sending you one almost every minute there is a phone in his hands, eager for every form of contact. 

Patrick: Y/N

Patrick: c'mon... 

Patrick: don't ignore me bby

Patrick: i miss u

Patrick: ur my only girl

Patrick: ... 

Patrick: i love you

He's an idiot. Probably drunk, you think when you reread the message for the hundredth time during one particular evening, eyes welling in your eyes the longer you stare at it. He surely can't mean it. 

Patrick: fuck

Patrick: ignore that

Patrick: can i call u? 

Patrick: text me pls

Patrick: i wanna see u

Patrick: :(

He's really getting desperate, considering just breaking the door to your apartment and pushing you against the nearest surface, forcing you to listen to whatever he has to tell you. And he actually went to your place, to the apartment you live in, but never went further than standing by the door. Oh, how he wanted to knock each time he was there. How much he wanted to see your face and hear your voice. 

But you never respond, never react, trying to convince yourself you're doing what's best for you both. Perhaps you are naive, a bit too much, and in reality, your treatment only results in hurting both of you. 

And Patrick can't fucking bear it anymore, so he actually musters up all his remaining courage and travels to your place once again. Marching up with determined footsteps, he approaches your apartment and knocks and knocks and knocks on the door until you eventually open it, half asleep.

"Patrick?" 

"Y/N." 

Your swift attempt to close the door ends in vain as Patrick basically pushes himself into your apartment, refusing to be shut down once again. 

"We need to talk." 

"Piss off." you respond with a mumble, voice coming out more hostile than you actually planned. With a shudder, you abandon him, not feeling like facing him at the moment. Because whatever is about to happen, it's bound to end up as a tragedy. 

"Don't you dare talk to me like that." Patrick hisses in an aggrieved manner, following you to the living room. "You owe me at least an explanation." 

You know you do. But you can't bring yourself to give him any. "I don't owe you anything, Patrick." 

"You know damn well that you do. At least look me in the eyes when I'm talking to you." he's genuinely getting pissed off by your attitude. You always used to be so adamant on honesty, believing everyone deserves some form of a gentle treatment, and mainly to be told the truth. In your own words, people don't deserve to just be shut off. But here you are, doing the exact same thing you stand against. 

When you refuse to listen to him, Patrick gets fed up. His hands grab your arms tightly - for the first time not attempting to be cautious or gentle - and just yanks you towards himself. Finally, his eyes meet yours, fully, both of you wearing equally tired expressions. It's no secret this has been tough for both of you. 

"Can you listen to me for once?" he speaks softly, a glimpse of hope, accompanied by a light squeeze of your arms to keep your attention on himself. 

"This is stupid, Patrick." you retort, eyes rolling in an attempt to ignore the sudden closeness of his presence. "Just stop. Go home or go fuck someone. Just go and be happy." 

Patrick's expression drops upon hearing your words, mentally attempting to put one and one together to fully understand what you're attempting to convey. "Why are you pushing me away?" 

His hold on your arms eases, allowing you to slip them out of his hold and step away. Almost on instinct, your palms come up to rub those two spots, not that they're sore or hurt, but you wish to wipe his touch away. "Cause it's better for both of us." 

Finally, you admit to it, wanting to, slowly but surely, erase Patrick from your presence, from your life perhaps, as you've convinced yourself it shall ease the worries of both of you. 

"What the fuck?" he scoffs, stepping closer once again. "How would that be better?" 

"Because we can't continue with this, for fuck's sake. Patrick, we can't just fuck because we feel like it and-" 

"Why not?" 

"What?" 

"Why can't we just fuck?" Patrick insists, approaching you fully. He corners you against the windowsill and rests his hands on it, caging you in. 

You stare him in the eyes, lips parting as you search for an answer. Why couldn't the two of you just fuck? You're both single, no responsibilities and no people to remain loyal to. And you both enjoy the frequency of your encounters, knowing each other's bodies like the backs of your own hands, knowing exactly what the other person loves and despises. Your main priorities are to satisfy the other one, to make sure each one of you feels equally loved and accepted and comfortable in whatever this is. So why can't you just fuck? 

"I wanna fuck you, Y/N." he presses further, leaning into your personal space, so close that the top of his nose brushes against yours. "I wanna fuck you and then I wanna hold you. I don't want you to push me away and just let me stay with you, even when you're all sweaty and messy." 

"Patrick-" 

"Don't. Just listen to me for once and shut up. Stop worrying for a goddamn minute and listen to me, hear me out when I tell you that I want to be with you every second of my life, that I want you in my arms, kissing me, looking at me and paying attention only to me. Not any other man."

"There's no other man." you interfere, eyes flicking between Patrick's to search for any hint of rationality. 

"But there's no me either." he protests, voice raising. Fat from gentle, far from soft, there's not even that playful edge in his voice anymore. There is a hint of something dangerous hidden behind his blue eyes. "And I want there to be. Are you really that stupid to not see that I love you? That I wanna be with you and be your boyfriend? Want you to be my girl?" 

"Patrick, I-" again, you attempt to say something, anything, but no words leave your mouth. Your whole mind is clouded by the sudden confession. He loves you? But... 

It all connects all of a sudden, realising what he messaged you was intentional, was nothing but the sheer truth. All the little signs and hints. All the times he held onto you, clutched your bare body against his and desired to remain buried under the sheets with you. All the pouts and protests when you wouldn't let him stay, when you wouldn't engage in normal couple-ish activities that he wished so hard for. All the subtle touches, on your back, shoulders, face, stroking your cheeks and scratches on your back. These and so much more were visible, at least Patrick thought so. These were the hints Patrick was giving you, desperately hoping you'd pick up on it and notice how smitten he is with you. 

"I love you, Y/N." he whispers, hands grabbing your face, too afraid you're gonna disappear from his grasp if he doesn't hold you tight enough. His thumbs graze your cheeks. "And I need to know if you love me too." 

But do you? Can you afford to love Patrick, the man who was initially your best friend's boyfriend, the man you first fucked out of spite and in symbolic revenge and then found yourself caring too deeply for? Are you willing to be in a messy relationship that would undoubtedly completely alter the direction of your life? 

"I don't know, Patrick." 

"You don't know or you just don't wanna answer?" 

He can see right through you, it's insane. It pains you that you've no idea how to decide, what to say, what to tell him. So you just shudder, attempting to cast a smile and ease Patrick's worries at least somehow. "I don't want us to get hurt."

"We won't." he promises, adamant on keeping it. 

"How can you be so sure about it?" it's obvious you are doubting your possible relationship, knowing what kinds of people the two of you are.

"Because I love you." 

[summerofofelia]

15 day BL challenge time!

OG here 🧡

Day 8 - The trope you hate except when it’s “this series”.

Throughout the course of my twenties, due to a combination of working with incredibly difficult people (never work in Australian media y’all) and navigating personal drama, I have learned that the best way to interact with people is through direct, honest communication. I have learned how to be gently confrontational, I am comfortable being uncomfortable and saying to someone, “hey, can we sit down and have a chat?” And as a result, I find myself huffing impatiently when miscommunication rears its ugly head.

Looking at you buddy

Ah yes, miscommunication. My arch nemesis. Miscommunication is the rotten toenail of tropes. So often it feels like a cheap way to manufacture drama because the writer was too lazy to come up with something more original.

If the central conflict of your story stems from a miscommunication that could be resolved if the characters had a two minute conversation, but instead you stretch this petty misunderstanding out for an infuriatingly long amount of time… ya boring. Go back to the drawing board. Think of how else you can create tension and obstacles that compel the audience to care.

So which show is my only exception?

BL: My Personal Weatherman.

My Personal Weatherman, for those unfamiliar, is essentially a story about two emotionally constipated dumbasses that are desperately in love with each other.

And I adore it.

So what makes their miscommunication different?

This is not a surface level miscommunication that can be solved with a simple conversation. It requires serious introspection, recognition of fears, voicing insecurities and allowing vulnerability. These are not things that happen overnight.

Yoh has incredibly low self esteem and believes he has nothing to offer Segasaki. He constantly downplays his abilities, despite the fact that throughout the series we see him being Segasaki’s safe space.

He can’t bring himself to be honest about his feelings to Segasaki (except when he’s drunk). He is confused by Segasaki’s actions and finds himself becoming resentful, finding reasons to hate Segasaki because he thinks his heart is the only one that races when they’re together.

Segasaki, on the other hand, wears a mask around others, feeling like Yoh is the only one that understands him. He can pretend with everyone else, but with Yoh he is utterly defenseless. Since day one he has been captivated by this man that sees right through him to his very core.

Segasaki desperately needs Yoh to be by his side, he craves him, and yet it takes seven episodes for him to finally break and say, I can’t breathe without you. Even after this declaration we see him tying Yoh up in an attempt to keep him from leaving, begging telling Yoh to be his and his alone, his insecurity palpable (also, he never actually tells Yoh about his insecurities, he just tortures himself in private). This moment of vulnerability is a turning point in their relationship.

And all this is externalised through a lack of communication, and not just that, but a lack of understanding about different communication styles. Segasaki is taken aback when he finds Yoh drunk and sullen, proclaiming that he will earn enough money to move out because Segasaki only sees him as a slave. Meanwhile Segasaki is like, wow, okay, first of all rude to say that to your husband.

But after this, Segasaki specifically takes Yoh out and they experience all these cute little date moments. It’s super sweet and everything is going well, until Yoh says, “hey, if you want to do something without me you can”, leading Segasaki to walk away despondently (and lie about having other plans) because he clearly thought they were on the same page (however, he still uses this time to buy Yoh a jumper while Yoh goes off to buy more sheets so they can fuck be intimate more often (because they’re both dumbasses who haven’t heard of a dryer)).

Through Segasaki’s actions, he thought he was clearly saying, “hey, I like you.” And yet, the lack of literal vocal communication meant these gestures went completely over Yoh’s head (literally at one point he says, this guy really needs to use more words!!). His low self esteem has created a barrier in their relationship. He doesn’t understand that Segasaki actually wants to be with him. How could this amazing man ever actually want him? And it’s understandable that he’s struggling, because Segasaki can be quite ambiguous with his words.

Now could all of this be resolved in one conversation? Not exactly, no. It’s more complicated than that. Which is why it works. Because there is something far deeper going on.

In order for these two to find each other, they have to overcome their own insecurities. They are each fighting an internal battle and don’t actually understand how to vocalise their needs and fears to each other.

It’s hard, but they get there eventually.

Dumbasses (affectionate).

[androgynealienfemme]

"What is butch? Rebellion against women's lot, against gender-role imperatives that pit boyness against girlness and then assign you-know-who the short straw. Butch is a giant fuck YOU! to compulsory femininity, just as lesbianism says the same to compulsory heterosexuality. I do not associate respect for compulsory anything with butchness, though perhaps some butch bottoms will disagree. I first gravitated toward butch women because they were the easiest female allies to recognize in my war against the compulsory world.

In the 1970s, when I came out in the dyke community, butch was dead and androgyny was practically an imperative. I didn't mind at first; girliness as a way of life hadn't worked out for me, and though I had always exhibited distinctly femme sexuality, I wasn't presenting myself to the world that way: I hadn't really grown into the image. I was young; the men I had fucked played "Me Tarzan, You Jane." I couldn't figure out how to get them to play the game by different rules. As soon as sex with them was over (or even while it was still going on) the whole thing felt stupid. Men who didn't play Tarzan were fine, but I couldn't figure out how to get them to fuck me. No doubt they were contending with their own straight (or not-so-straight) boy version of femme sexuality and were waiting for me to make the first move. Some men don't play Tarzan so as not to appear sexist; others just want you to do it-- grab their neckties and out them where you want them -- but I didn't know that at the time.

With some relief then, I retired the Jane I never wanted to be, reconstructed myself as an androgyne, and forsook my vain attempt to present my femininity to the world. The Uniform, actually, was Butch Lite. Jeans or chinos, flannel shirts or tees, sensible shoes-- either boots, athletic shoes, or Birkenstocks (it turns out the latter were incredibly subversive if you wore them with scarlet toenail polish, but that's another story). Almost the whole dyke community dressed this way: if a woman didn't, her politics and her sexual orientation were automatically up for debate.

The butches who were left over from the era before the purge also dressed this way. We had renamed the identity, it seemed, but kept the look. That way we could say we'd vanquished it, even as we kept it around to turn us on.

The unschooled eye couldn't tell the two sorts of women -- butches and androgynes-- apart. Butchness had been so thoroughly declared passe that an entire generation of dykes could dress in what was essentially butch-woman drag and evoke defensive responses only from conservative straight people (and very straight-identified "gay women").

At first I believed the mythos of the Vanished Butch (and her symbiotic sister-species, the Vanished Femme). But certain women wearing the Uniform made my nostrils flare, my tongue tie, my skin prickle like an electrical storm had passed. They filled the clothes differently. It took me some years to begin to understand why I wanted to chew on some women's thick brown leather belts and not on others.

Non-butch women wore the Uniform like librarians who had just come in from gardening. It was not clothes that made the woman. It was stance. It was attitude-- it was impossible to picture one of the librarians wearing a tux, or myself dressing in silk or lace to present myself to her. It was impossible to think of presenting myself to her at all, to offer her that mixture of allure and willingness that I desired to give a butch woman."

“Why I Love Butch Women” by Carol A. Queen, On Butch and Femme: Compiled Readings, (edited by I.M. Epstein) (2017)

[dumbasslesbi2]

Detective (Agatha x Rio) Detective x FBI Agent AU

Summary:

Agnes was finally put back on a case but what she wasn't ready was for who else would be put on it. Based this off of the first episode but basically took out any and all of the witch stuff. Basically Detective Agnes x Agent Rio

Notes:

Tumblr finally let me post this fic! Please tell me if there's any misspelling or grammatically incorrect stuff, I have dyslexia so sometimes I miss so stuff.

Agnes woke up for work the same as she did everyday, with not enough sleep and a raging headache. She always wore the same outfit claiming that it “made it easier”. In reality, she knew it was from her laziness and didn’t have the effort to pick out different outfits daily. Which in fact led her to wearing her usual flannel and jeans as she always did. She went downstairs to get her much needed coffee, while waiting for her machine to finish she was stuck with her pile of files of her ongoing case. She was stuck with a Jane Doe and couldn’t figure out by any means who she could be. Agnes had been wandering all over the town for any clues for weeks now with everything leading to dead ends. She knew it was gonna end up with the chief sending in a third party and if there’s one thing Agnes doesn’t work with, it’s people. She hated having anyone else have control of her cases or have control of anything in her life. The beeping of her coffee machine broke her out of thought and she went to go fill up her thermostat. Finally she was all ready to go back to the station, able to go back to what she was good at and loved doing, solving cases.

“Morning Detective” said the police officers outside the station greeting Agnes back to where she belonged. “Morning boys, don’t get into too much trouble out there” she said back joking at the officers as she used to. Walking through the sliding doors she let out a breathe she didn’t know she was holding. It had been a while since she had been put on a case as big as this one and she didn’t want to fuck it up, not like before. “Agnes! We gotta talk” greeted the chief, walking towards her with an already stained shirt. “Chief we talked about this, if you’re gonna make breakfast smoothies you need to put a lid on, you already have two stains on your shirt” she said walking towards her office. “Oh, thanks Agnes but I ugh…” said the chief trying to get the stains out with a handkerchief he had. “I can already tell, you’re gonna tell me something I don’t like,” Agnes said, stretching in her office chair. “Soil samples from under the fingernails and toenails of the Jane Doe came back. They don’t match the soil she was lying in” he stated, still trying to take the stains out. “That’s no surprise. We assumed she’d been moved.” she retorted, still trying to get rid of a kink in her back. “There were traces of a particular microbial sediment only found in Eastern Europe-" "Now get to the part I’m not gonna like” she interrupted him getting annoyed with all the bullshitting. “Here I am,” a woman behind the chief said. Agnes sat semi shocked but she knew it was coming. This wasn’t just any other third party brought in on her case, it was Rio. Memories hit her back like a freight train, every I love you, every I hate you, and the worst of all, Nicholas.“Okay…” was all Agnes could say, she hadn’t seen her in years and as much as Agnes hated to admit it, she was just as beautiful as the day she left her, if not even more. However, she wasn’t going to let Rio see that.”Fancy dirt always attracts the attention of the Feds” she said, fixing her shirt to make sure Rio didn’t see how pathetic she had become. “Agent Vidal is an asset here, Agnes. More brain power and more resources mean you get to the finish line faster, strength in numbers.Teamwork makes the dreamwork-” the chief said knowing how much this was going to backfire but was once again interrupted by Agnes. “Eat my ass, Chief” she said, hoping he would leave the situation and not add more fuel to her ongoing fire. Rio couldn’t help but laugh a little bit, after all these years Agnes was still the same,still stubborn, still hot headed, still attractive . “I’ll leave it to you then” said the chief, leaving awkwardly.

Rio couldn’t help but scoff a little bit as she went to sit on the couch in Agnes’s office. “It’s been a long time” Rio couldn’t help but say with a bit of endearment. “What are you doing here?” said Anges with a harsh tone, not ready to face her ex-wife. “My job.” said Rio with her usual snarky attitude. “You wanna take control of my investigation.” stated Agnes with pointed eyes. “No” Rio said with a breath still thinking about how they used to be. “If you wanna be in control, you can be.” stated Rio, knowing how much Agnes hated anyone else being in charge of her cases. Agnes couldn’t help but lick her lips, still trying to keep on the topic of the case and not on Rio. “She…” Agnes paused for a bit, getting distracted by Rio. “The body was moved across state lines. Is that your play?” she stated, trying her hardest not to break in front of her ex lover. Rio looked around the room for a bit and couldn’t help but think of how they used to be. “Is this really how you see yourself?” Rio stated, keeping eye contact with Agnes even after getting no reply. Agnes knew the game she was playing, Rio always loved to play games with Agnes but she knew better than to give in right now. “Sure. Let’s talk about the case. What are your theories? How’d she end up in the ravine?” questioned Rio, seeing that Agnes wasn’t going to give in so easily. “No drag marks. Thinking the perp carried her” “Uh… Seems logical. But you don’t really believe that because… Oops.” Rio paused showing pictures from the scene.”No tracks for the perp. Not a leaf disturbed before Forensics showed up. It’s almost like she just magically appeared.” Rio stated, taking a seat on Agnes’s desk. Agnes couldn’t help but scoff a bit “Let’s stick to reality here, yeah?” “Sure” said Rio calmly, nodding her head in agreement. “If there’s one thing we can agree on,it’s that these cases are always about the place. The specific small town,the history of it, the people in it, the secrets buried beneath it. That’s where the answers lie.” she said keeping eye contact with Rio. However, Rio couldn’t help but look away and nod. She took in a breathe, thinking how typical it was of Agnes to not think out of the box. “Well, who better to solve the mystery than one of Westview’s very own? Yeah, you’ve lived here your whole life. Isn’t that true… Agnes?” Rio questioned, keeping eye contact once again with Agnes, hoping that she would at least break this time. Agnes was over it, she was done with Rio’s game. She got up and stood in front of the door, “I don’t want you here” she stated, letting Rio know she was done. Rio knew she was almost there but didn’t want to push it. She got up and started walking towards the door. “Te veo” Rio told her before leaving, she always had to have the last word.

Agnes couldn’t help but still be in the office till late, trying to solve the case. She was getting close to something, she could feel it. However, it just wasn’t making sense, to Agnes it had to be logical and make sense in some way but everything was leading her into unreal or unnatural. There was clues of something dark and sinister behind it but that didn’t work for Agnes. The supernatural wasn’t real or true to her, it needed to be something based in reality. “Go home Agnes” said the chief seeing Agnes was still in. “Iam home” stated Agnes, trying to hone in on a clue just as the light went out. “Hey!” yelled Agnes. “Go home.” stated the chief, not taking no as an answer. So she did just that, tired and achy she put her jacked and badge on the living room table. Seeing Rio had brought back too many memories that she had put away. She couldn’t help but go into a room she had looked at in years. Nicholas’s room. The memories of having him and being so happy with him and Rio came flooding back. Before she could even start crying about it again she heard a knock at her door. Swiftly she closed the door to go see who could be at her front door at this hour. “What” she stated annoyingly as she opened the door. What she didn’t expect was to see Rio, clearly holding something behind her back. “Did you know that it is a universally acknowledged truth that a lady cop cannot be good at her job and have a healthy personal life at the same time?” Rio stated, showing the pizza box she had hidden behind her back. “Hungry?” she questioned.

Agnes doesn’t know why but she let Rio in. At first it was awkward but after a couple beers and some pizza it was like they had never left each other. Rio couldn’t help but stay longer than she wanted to and next thing they’re having more beers and sitting in Agnes’s living room. Agnes sighs and continues her story “So she’s a rookie, granted, but I say to her, “Has the suspect been seen in the last 24 hours?” And she says, “Only on TikTok.” And then I say, “Well, did you learn anything?” And she says, “That I was totally using the wrong foundation brush.”” Agnes says laughing at her own story. Rio laughs along with her but can’t help but be enamored by Agnes, all these years later and she still feels the same way around her. She should equally be upset at Agnes like she is at her for leaving her all those years ago but she never could. She could never hate Agnes, she could only love her. While Agnes is still chuckling she hands Rio another beer and takes a sip. “I have a lead in the case.” Agnes states after a bit of silence. “That’s not why I came over.” Rio stated, trying to see if she could get her to break. After a bit of silence Rio gave up and said “But go ahead.” ”There was a car wreck, about an hour before time of death.” stated Agnes, not ready to face the actual topic of Rio yet.“Where?” Rio questioned, remembering she had an actual job to do sometimes. “Eastview.” “Eastview? See, I thought you turned into a pumpkin that far afield” stated Rio, knowing how much Agnes hated traveling and loved staying in her small town. “Hey, I travel. I’m worldly.” stated Agnes, knowing that it was a full on lie. Rio couldn’t help but chuckle, knowing that Agnes was bullshitting and just had to call her out on it, “Where have you traveled?” Agnes knew she was fucked and couldn’t say anything, Rio had gotten her this time. While Rio enjoyed moments like this, she couldn’t help feel a bit bad for Agnes and changed topics, “Okay, so what about the car wreck?” “Bloodstain in the back seat.” “You think that’s how they moved her?” “Front two airbags deployed.” “Maybe two perps?” “Maybe” Agnes said with a sigh, she knew there was more to it but didn't know what. “But you don’t like it” said Rio, still able to read Agnes like the back of her hand. “My gut tells me they’re related, but I can’t shake this feeling I’m seeing it wrong” said Agnes, still unsure of what she’s suppose to be seeing. “Can I ask you something?” asked Rio, unable to control herself anymore. “Yeah.” said Agnes without really thinking, she was still too focused on the case. “Do you remember why you hate me?” asked Rio holding eye contact. “No” replied Agnes almost instantly. “Are you hiding evidence?” she asked. “No” replied Agnes again almost instantly. “Well, you’re only lying to yourself.” stated Rio, taking another sip of her beer. “What do you-” before Agnes could finish asking her question she heard a noise coming from upstairs. She got up after she heard another rumble and checked her bedrooms upstairs. That’s when she saw the precipitator, “HEY! FREEZE!” she yelled and ran to get them but they escaped from the window. If there’s one thing Agnes wasn’t, it was a pussy so she said fuck it and went through the window. Only problem is that she wasn’t as in shape as she used to be and when getting down from the roof to follow her perp, she ended up slipping from the roof gutter. She didn’t care though, she got up and continued on foot to follow them. Luckily Mrs. Hart was driving and had almost hit them which gave Agnes enough time to get them while they were down and arrest them.

Agnes took him to the station but not without calling in Rio. Agnes doesn’t know why she called her and Rio doesn’t know why she actually showed up but here they both were. At one point in time this was how the two of them were, good cop bad cop. Well in reality, two bad cops just one was psychological and the other was your typical mean cop. “Well, he won’t give his name and he’s not in the system.” Agnes told Rio looking at them through one way glass. “First offense. He take anything from your place?” Rio asked, still not sure why she showed up for this. “No, but not for lack of trying. I think it’s time for a good old fashioned chat with Edward Scissorhands in there.” Agnes said ready to go and do her “bad cop”. “Go get your perp.” said Rio looking to the side, trying to suppress the feelings of old times she was having. Agnes stood there for a minute also reminiscing on themselves before nodding and heading in to get her perp.

“So I’m curious.What compelled you to break into the home of a decorated detective?” Agnes asked as she leaned back on the door. “When you say “decorated”, do you mean suspended without pay?” The teen boy asked while Agnes gave him a pointed look. “Yeah, I know who you are.” He said not caring what Agnes would do to him. “Let’s talk about you, then, you little dirtbag. Is B&E your regular gig?” said Agnes, still trying to put her best bad cop. “Hmm? ‘Cause you’re crap at it.” she said as she walked around the table.”What were you looking for in my house?” Agnes said while putting her files down on the table. “The respect of your peers and a fulfilling home life.But you were fresh out of both.” said the teen boy but was almost immediately on the ground after saying so. Agnes didn’t care anymore about keeping it tamed, she kicked his chair under. Rio grunted, knowing that this would happen and knocked on the glass giving Agnes a finger wave, she knew she always found it cute when she did that. Rio had always been the one who grounded Agnes when she got fired up, she always knew just what to do or say. Agnes put her hands up as an apology and let the teen get back in his chair. “See…The things that you’re roasting me for are the things that make me dangerous.” Agnes told the teen, which was very much the truth. Ever since losing Nicholas and leaving Rio, Agnes didn’t have anyone to control her, which is what led to her small suspension. She was now an untamed fire that stopped caring about anyone and everything. If anything the teen was lucky that Rio was there or else the situation would have taken a whole other turn. “So you wanna keep poking the bear?” Agnes asked him, giving the teen an intense stare that he could not look back to. He was finally intimidated by the detective and Agnes could tell. Her bad cop was finally working.”Good. Now…What were you after?” she asked, wanting to get this over. “I don’t know” he said unsure why he was doing what he was doing. “New question. Where were you last night between the hours of 1:00 and 3:00 a.m.?” she asked not satisfied with his answers. “Asleep. In bed.” the teen told her honestly. “Asleep in bed.” she repeated while writing on a note pad. “Total LOSER? OR TOTALLY LYINGGGG, LET’S FIND OUT” she yelled while overexatrally writing everything on a note pad.”What do you know about this, huh?” she asked, showing him pictures of the body of the jane doe. “Nothing. Nothing!” He yelled looking at the pictures. “Tell me who she is!” Agnes demanded, now getting tired of his incorporation. “What are you talking about? These are just flowers!” He exclaimed, still not sure what she wanted from him. “What?” Anges asked, taken aback from his response.

“They’re just pictures of someone’s front yard or something” He explained, still not sure what answer she would want from him. Agnes looked down, she brought the wrong pictures. She had such a mess of files that she fucked up and brought the wrong pictures. “You got to be fucking kidding me” she exclaimed as she left the interrogation room. “You really got him right where you want him, don’tcha tiger” Rio told her just to tease her a little bit.” Don’t even start right now Vidal” sighed Agnes, still embarrassed from what happened. “Just let the kid go for now Agnes, I really don’t think he’s one of the perps sweetheart” Rio told Agnes, hoping the endearment would calm her down. Agnes sighed, still angered she knew Rio was right, Rio was always right. “Why don’t we let him go, I drive him home and then I’ll take you home, that sound good?” Rio asked in a soft tone that Agnes hadn’t heard in a while, god how she missed this. “Yeah, that sounds good, lemme let him out” Agnes said with her eyes closed, still taking in the whole situation. Agnes went back into the interrogation room “Alright, you’re free to go, Agent Vidal and I will be giving you a ride home, I know you didn’t want to give me your name but maybe you’ll want to give it to Agent Vidal” Agnes told him, holding the door open. ‘What?!? But I- I broke into your home! You chased me and everything?!” He asked in total shocked, ready to be stuck in a jail cell for the night. “Yeah well, I changed my mind, consider this a warning especially since you're a minor” Agnes said not looking at him. “Thank you, you’re not as bad as people say in this town” He said getting up and out of the room.

The car ride was awkward to say the least. After dropping off the teen the car was as silent as could be. Rio pulled up to Agnes house, unsure what to say. “Th-”said Agnes “I-” Rio interrupted, making them both shut up. “You go first, I’m sorry” said Rio. “Thanks for everything Rio. I uh, I missed this” Agnes said, not able to face Rio. Agent Vidal couldn’t help herself and touched Agnes hair, causing Agnes to moan. Agnes couldn’t help herself and turned back towards Rio and hugged her tight as she could. The both of them had been longing for each other’s touch since they saw each other. However, neither of them wanted to be the first one to break. Agnes pulled back and cradled Rio’s face, she noticed her lipstick had slightly smudged and fixed it with her thumb. She couldn’t stop herself anymore, she caved. Agnes moved in and kissed Rio, fuck their stupid game. She didn’t care anymore about not giving in, she broke. After a while they separated. “Stay the night, please” Agnes asked just above a whisper. “Of course” Rio responded, she couldn’t say no to Agnes, she never could.