#or if something happens to get my gears turning. usually that has to do with some science thing and brain immediately goes '!!!'

[us3rnam3-r3dact3d]

let me wrap my teeth around the world

Ao3 | 7.1k Words | Babe's POV

Early into their relationship, Asher and Babe get hot and heavy on the couch in his and David's apartment. David walks in on them. He has been in love with Asher for years. He decides to deal with that through an ill advised threesome.

TW: some rough sex, hair pulling, light choking, power dynamics, and unhealthy coping mechanisms. MINORS DNI!!!

Also, Babe is described with a number of masculine features including genitalia.

You had Asher exactly where you wanted him, half dressed, blushing and panting, and pinned beneath you on the sinfully plush couch in his and David’s living room. He was moaning and bucking up into you where you straddled his hips, and his roommate wasn’t due to be home for another hour at least. You could take him right here, string his pleasure out along the minutes and move the whole ordeal to his bedroom by the time you were set to be interrupted. You wondered how many times you could make him come before he gave out on you. 

“Fuck,” Ash whined, his rasping voice half a step higher than where it usually sat, “Babe, please!” 

“Please what, Puppy?” You grinned, running your tongue along the sharp, long line of his throat. He bared his neck for you, gave you better access to his delicate skin. Asher was an animal in more ways than you could understand, and he still exposed the most delicate, most vulnerable parts of himself to you at the first indication you wanted them. He was a thing of beauty. 

Ash had opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, the front door opened. You startled, pushing up from where you had spread out over Asher’s bare chest. His hands splayed across your hips to steady you as he propped up on one elbow. 

David looked… haggard. He shouldered open the front door, cursing as the key fought against him. It was an old building, and the locks acted up in the winter. Still clad in his Shaw Security tee-shirt and one of Ash’s spare jackets, you could see the stress that lined his entire body. His face was pinched, like he was gearing up to start shouting at the first person that made themself known. From your vantage point still straddling Asher’s lap, you were able to see the exact moment that David realized what was happening on his couch. 

His eyes slid from you to Ash, surprise wiping away the tension from his features for a split second. He seemed to realize what a compromising position you both were in a moment later and that the door was still open into the corridor for the neighbors to see. He slammed it shut, pressing his back against it.

God, Asher had the nerve to laugh. Fucking asshole. 

“Oh hey,” he grinned, arching his back into you, showing off the muscles that wrapped around his rib cage and led to the delightful curve of his spine. David rolled his eyes nearly in time with you. 

“Asshole,” he growled at Asher, tossing his keys into the fancy little dish he put on the ‘entryway’ table just inside the door. David did his best to make this little apartment as homey as possible, contending with Asher’s immature decore taste and cabinet scorching tendencies to do so. It was nice. David had nice taste. “Put a sock on the door or something next time.” 

“Very generous,” you grinned, “assuming there will be a next time. You told me he wouldn’t get home for another hour.” You eyed Asher under you and spread one palm up his abs, patting him three times sharply, like a spanking. 

David eyed you suspiciously, his dark eyes vicious as they cut into you. You were well aware of his initial opinion of you; that you were just another in a long line of fuck buddies who chased after Asher for his looks and took little to no interest in his heart. His giant, glowing, giving heart. His heart that fell and broke for anybody who gave him a second chance. You assumed that David had seen more than a handful of potential partners turn into pleasure-seeking assholes in his time as Asher’s best friend. It likely got tiring after a while, picking up the pieces when everybody left. 

And under that well-worn protectiveness was something else, something baser. You saw how David looked at Ash. You saw how Ash looked back. When Asher took you home to meet David, they greeted each other intimately; David’s hand sliding along the back of Asher’s neck, pulling his head in to press their temples together, a breath away from a kiss. Something in both of them eased in that moment, like they’d been holding a breath in each other’s absence and were finally able to let it out. 

That was love. You didn’t know if it was romantic. You didn’t know if it mattered. David loved Asher. Asher loved him back. You didn’t know how they had managed not to fall together over the years, but they hadn’t. That was your luck. It was also the source of David’s jealousy of you, of that much you were certain. 

You couldn’t blame him. Asher was something to covet. 

“No, wait, come on-” Asher arched up into you, wrapping an arm around your back and pulling you down to meet him as he half-sat-up. You could feel his core muscles flex to hold you both. He ground up into you, and you barely bit back an unseemly moan at the friction, even through your clothes. “David doesn’t mind. He’s just a little possessive. But you get that, don’t you, Babe?” Ash brushed a kiss against your cheek, trailing his wet, swollen lips across your skin until he found your lips. He pecked them chastely, a teasing touch with a promise of heat behind it. His eyes never left David, hot, dark, and half-lidded. 

This was something that the two of you had talked about before. Asher was unabashed about his attraction to David. The two of you looked remarkably alike, if not in stature than in fine details. Your noses. Your cheekbones. Your eyes. You could see, looking in the mirror, the parts of you that Ash found in David, the parts of David he found in you. Asher said that you were easy to love. You supposed that he had had decades of practice at this point. 

Ash hadn’t come right out and said he wanted to have a threeway with David, but he had certainly implied it. You wondered if he had talked to David about it. If David had said ‘no.’ Or, God, if he had said ‘yes.’ 

David Shaw wasn’t your type. It was hard for anything to be your type when Asher was the one spread out under you, bending his body to your every whim. But you could find the edges of your pleasure along the lines of his body. His straining muscles, his staggering height, his stern features. There was something beautiful there. 

“Fuck you,” David growled, his face twisting up with discomfort. You sat up suddenly, Asher’s hands falling back to your hips innocently. As soon as David gave the indication that he wasn’t into it, Asher and his facade fell away. 

“Sorry,” he said immediately, “sorry, big guy. We can, um-” 

“No- I-” David ran a hand over his face. He caved inward a bit. You’d seen him do that a few times. David Shaw was a fucking building of a man. Every once in a while, he crumbled. “Fuck- wait-” He extended a hand towards you two, his palm flat and open in invitation. Asher blinked at him owlishly for a moment before he surged up. He lifted you, set your feet on the ground, and framed your rib cage in his hands. Your shirt was mostly unbuttoned, mused from your workday and all of Asher’s impatient ministrations. He bent and pressed a kiss to your sternum, his lips warm and firm and unrelenting. When he pulled back, his eyes were bright and sure. You laid a hand on his cheek, kept those eyes on you. And then he turned away. 

He stepped forward, right into David’s space, and ran his hands from David’s pecs up and over his shoulders. You watched his nimble fingers fiddle with the neck of David’s shirt before helping him shrug the just-barely-too-small jacket off of his broad shoulders. 

“You’re sure?” Asher asked him, his voice low and pure. “We can go.” 

“No.” David answered, decisively. “No, I’m fine. I…” his dark eyes flicked down Asher’s face, lingering on those sinful, swollen lips. “I trust you.” It was easy when he said it to Asher. His eyes found you. “Both of you.” That one took some work, but he meant it. You nodded once, trying to take on an air of decision and confidence. It was a little hard to be sure when David Shaw was on the other side of your six-month-old relationship. If anybody could do it, though, it was you. 

“Come on,” Ash took David’s big hand in one of his and reached for yours with the other. Slowly, with that glint of mischief back in his eyes, he lead you both towards the back of the apartment. 

“My room,” David ordered gently. “Bigger bed.” He explained simply, shrugging down at you. 

“Cleaner, too.” You nodded. A sly smile cut across David’s tense features. 

“Oh my God, it is not that bad!” Ash laughed, high and sweet. You wanted to bottle that sound. 

David’s bed was bigger, much bigger. He must have necessitated it. Men as big as David didn’t just settle for queens. In all honesty, Ash was probably too tall for his own bed. He tended to sleep curled up, though, either around you or into himself, a tight little ball of long, lean limbs and muscle. 

David’s door had stayed perpetually closed since you’d been dating Asher, and your curiosity for how he kept his space was always squashed by your respect for his privacy. When he opened his door, you were met by a remarkably plain space. His bed was made with simple, navy sheets and a handful of plush pillows. The room was softly lit, exactly the right amount of light for this sort of activity. He fussed over a t-shirt that was hanging out of his laundry hamper, apologizing for the mess. 

You stepped into the space slowly, taking it in, before you settled on the bed, staring out at David and Asher. Ash smiled, flashed his sharp teeth, and took hold of one of David’s hands. He drew David towards the bed, glancing over his shoulder towards you as he giggled low in his chest. Fuck, you hated when he laughed like that, like he was begging to be admonished. Like he was the cat that ate the canary and was waiting patiently for his punishment. 

You felt a bit hesitant as Asher hopped onto the bed, one hand snaking over your chest and shoulder, the other working at the hem of David’s shirt deftly. Stupid, clever fingers, always moving, fidgeting. Asher could tie a bow with one hand and his eyes closed. He had no trouble getting David’s fitted t-shirt up and off of his cut form while he bent to bite at your neck. You kept your eyes on David, watched his reactions, cautious and cutting. 

David finally helped Ash pull his shirt off and let those clever hands start exploring his chest. Asher pinched and squeezed, digging his fingers into the particularly tense bundle of muscles between his neck and shoulders. Ash tutted, his face screwing up in mock disapproval. 

“So tense,” he muttered, his head still tucked into your neck, “feel this, his shoulders are rock hard.” 

One of your hands, so unfamiliar with this sort of touch towards anybody besides Asher, landed gently on David’s shoulder. Thin fingers pressed into his muscle and you hummed. You began rubbing little circles into David, releasing the tension masterfully. David let out a soft moan, his face flashing with surprise and embarrassment the moment after it left him. 

“It’s because you’re so stressful.” You accused. “I wouldn’t be surprised if his whole back is in knots.” You bent and pressed a kiss to Asher’s neck. Ash folded immediately, a delicious little sound falling out of him as he bared his neck for you to nip at. “Why don’t you help the poor man relax?”

Asher smiled that smile again, that I’m-about-to-be-a-real-pain-in-your-ass smile. David’s face flashed with an attempt at hide his arousal, but he didn’t stand a chance. Not when your cool thin hands started leading him, still pressing expertly into his sore muscles, and directed him to sit on the edge of the bed. Not when Asher pressed open-mouthed kisses on his neck and shoulder, the whisper of his teeth running against David’s skin. Not when Asher moved around him, brushing teasing touches across his skin. 

You snaked your hands around David’s waist and unbuckled his belt. Asher wasn’t the only one with clever fingers, after all. You began to alternate between massaging his shoulders and sucking bruises into the skin of them. David’s head tilted back as you worked, the soft noises that he had attempted to hold back were coming louder and louder now. You kept him distracted and Asher worked him out of his jeans and boxers, right up until the moment that Ash dragged his tongue from the base of David’s half-hard cock to the head, letting out a sinful moan as he did, as if sucking David off was the single most pleasurable thing he could imagine. 

Something ugly and jealous and possessive flared up in your chest. David’s head thunked back on your shoulder, his face contorting and trying to hold on to its familiar tension. He needed this. He had been needing this. Asher was something more for him. If it took a probably ill-advised threesome after what appeared to be a bad fucking day to ease that suspicion and accusation from David’s eyes when he looked at you, then it would be worth it. 

This wasn’t about you. It couldn’t be about you. 

Just that touch from Asher had David’s eyes rolling back and his knees buckling. He plopped down on the edge of the bed, one hand coming up to grip onto your shoulder, the other flying to Asher’s hair. His fingers tangled with those pretty curls. Ash groaned, leaned into David’s hand, his long fingers gripping the base of David’s cock as he laughed. 

“You can pull.” He said. “I like when it hurts.” 

“ Fuck,” David groaned, and you really couldn’t blame him. You couldn’t help but imagine your hand print, stark red on Asher’s ass. 

Asher laughed again, that stupid, infuriating laugh, and pumped his fist around David’s cock a few times before wrapping his lips around the head. You were intimately familiar with Ash’s routine when giving head. It was, reportedly, one of his favorite things in the world to do. He was swirling his tongue around the head once, twice, three times. It was torture. It wasn’t enough. 

“Tease,” David accused, giving his hair a tug. 

“Isn’t he?” You breathed against David’s neck, hands slipping around to trail circles on David’s chest. “Don’t be shy, he can take you. And then some.” Asher snickered, his eyes full of challenge even with his lips wrapped around David’s cock. 

“Is that so?” David grumbled, adjusting his grip on Asher’s hair. You watched as he slipped his fingers over Ash’s scalp, palming his head in what looked like a gentle caress for just a moment. Then, he curled his fingers, threading curls between them, and got a strong, controlling grip on Asher’s head. It was a very intentional way to grab someone’s hair, what you would argue was the correct way. It ensured that he wouldn’t actually hurt Ash, or damage his precious curl pattern. Something about that intention made your chest soften. 

Ash closed his eyes to the feeling, a blissed-out expression melting over his face. He smiled, popped off of David’s cock before resting it against his face. You could estimate just how far down Ash’s throat David would reach. You pressed your lips to David’s ear so only he would hear this next part. 

“He doesn’t have a gag reflex.” You offered that little tidbit up like it was casual conversation. You smiled against his skin. David groaned, his hips bucking involuntarily. 

David made use of his hold on Asher’s hair and directed his head where he wanted it. Ash followed along obediently, even though that defiant glare in his eyes didn’t dim. He hummed as he lapped at the head, taking his languid time winding David up. At that point, he must have been achingly hard, and he seemed to grow impatient with Ash’s teasing. 

David gave Asher’s hair a tug just a second before pushing his head down on his cock. Ash groaned and opened his throat to accommodate him, let the high hum of his moan buzz around David. 

Fuck, he looked beautiful. A blush was dusted across his high cheekbones, his eyes half-lidded and glassy. His hands dug into David’s thick thighs, flexing and gripping at the muscle that strained under David’s weakening control. David keened and curled forward and you moved with him, a strong arm wrapping around his shoulders to steady him. 

“Easy,” you instructed, calm dominance falling easily into place, even though you imagined it would brush awkwardly against David’s own nature. As it was, the poor man seemed to be struggling to stay afloat. You were more than happy to take over if he needed it. “Don’t take your eyes off of him. Don’t waste such a pretty view.” David flung his eyes open and dragged his head off of your shoulder, pulled his hands back so Ash could take a breath. You watched as their eyes met, that connection between them snapping into place. Asher’s pretty eyes were glazed over and hungry, but still calculating and taking in every detail of David’s body. You couldn’t help the endearment that fluttered in your chest. 

“So beautiful,” David muttered, his thumb trailing down the line of Ash’s cheekbone. Asher’s eyes rolled back at the words, another moan rumbling through his chest. David pressed gently on the back of Ash’s head, guiding him back down his length. He pushed Ash’s stray curls away from his face almost gently, reverently. 

They settled into a steady, gentle pace, David guiding Asher’s head back and forth slowly, almost restrained. You imagined that he didn’t want to test Asher’s supposedly non-existent gag reflex too far. You had to admit, David’s length was certainly impressive, and if you hadn’t seen exactly what Asher was capable of, you would be worried too. This was perhaps the only part of Asher that you knew better than David did. 

Asher took to it like an old hat, like he’d sucked David off a million times before, and the little tricks he’d picked ip along the way had melted into muscle memory. Your hands worked out the tension as it rose up in David’s shoulders, eventually traveling down his back. Your mouth moved up his neck, biting and sucking what you knew would be very embarrassing hickeys come morning. There was probably some sort of magical cheat to getting rid of those, so you didn’t hold back. Your intense focus was zeroed in on Asher, and a smile quirked every lick and kiss against David’s skin. 

David’s head lolled back onto your shoulder, moaning shamelessly, his body tensing and releasing over and over again. Suddenly, he pulled back Asher’s head, bared his slender neck as Asher gasped and swallowed, drool and pre-come dripping down the line of his throat. David’s cock visibly twitched at the sight alone, and he sucked a sharp breath, clenching his free hand into a white-knuckled fist. 

“Are you okay?” Asher asked, his voice wrecked and devoid of his usual mischief, plainly concerned and gentle. That fucker could move from a carefully guarded facade to earnest transparency in the space of a breath. It often left you confused, disoriented, one step behind, breathless. 

“I’m fine,” David said, his hand coming to rest on Asher’s cheek, gently wiping away a tear that had escaped past Asher’s thick lashes. Your hands had stilled over his chest at the first sign of trouble, but now began to gently stroke circles over his pectorals, trying to move that touch to ground and comfort him. “I just…” he blushed, broke eye contact with Asher, “I don’t want to come yet.” 

Asher laughed, high and rasping. He ran his hands up and down David’s thighs, squeezing handfuls of muscle, what looked to be just this side of painful. 

“He’s eager.” You murmured into David’s ear. The sound of David’s low groan sent a ping of arousal down your spine. He let his head fall back to your shoulder as the tension fully left his body. You felt him up, heavy as he was boneless and imp. “Like a dog with a bone.” Asher made an offended tutting noise but didn’t refute the allegation. “How should we take him, hmm?” You hummed into David’s neck. “He’s so flexible. So obedient.” 

You guided his head up, pointed David’s gaze down at Asher. Wide, bright eyes started back, open, alert, attentive. A delicious blush Dusted Ash’s cheeks and tipped his ears, his smattering of freckles standing stark against his tanned skin. David found some amount of strength in his arms again, but only enough to cup Asher’s face in his hands, to stroke that heated cheek in a touch you would almost call loving. 

“Up.” You ordered. Asher jerked but didn’t move. His body’s instinct was to obey, but he held himself back stubbornly, his hands folded in his lap, framing his achingly hard cock picturesquely. If you had a talented bone in his body, you would paint Ash just like this; on his knees, looking up at you with something like daring in his eyes. 

“I love when he’s in this sort of moon.” You grinned. Asher huffed at David’s feet, like he was upset to be talked about like he wasn’t there. A smile spread over David’s features at the little pinched that formed between Ash’s brows. So cute. “It’s suck a treat to put him in his place.” 

Asher tensed like a rabbit about to bolt. You were faster than him when he let you be, and David was stronger. The two of you surged forward, almost as one, and snatched Asher from the ground. A mess of flailing limbs, Ash screeched, his yell cutting off into high giggles as the two of you pinned him down. David’s huge hands engulfed Asher’s slender wrists. Ash’s trim waist heaved and tensed as he struggled, kicking out against your hold on his legs. Splayed as he was on the bed, you could see every inch of him, glistening with sweat as he tried to bite at David’s wrist, turning his limbs in every way to escape. Your fingers would bruise into his skin, You salivated at the very idea of it. 

You turned Ash, hitching one slender, muscled leg over your shoulder as you sucked two fingers into your mouth, running your tongue between the digits dramatically. Asher’s eyes locked on to you, a moan escaping him as he watched your little show. Once you were satisfied that you’d teased him enough, you dipped those fingers into him, drawing out a surprised moan that buzzed against David’s thigh. For all of his posturing, Ash didn’t escape now that he easily could have. You knew intimately the kinds of acrobatics Ash was capable of with just one free leg. He just tensed, his foot flexing against your shoulder, his back arching almost unnaturally as he chased your fingers. 

“So tight for me.” You growled. There was something predatory in your chest, like a big cat prowling towards its prey. Your eyes were lidded and sharp, and you locked your focus on Asher’s little moans and shudders and whines. “And I thought you’d still be nice and loose from earlier.” 

Asher laughed, tilted his head back to stare up at David, his eyes hooded with arousal. Still untouched, Ash’s cock twitched and pulsed in tone with your thrusts, red and beading with desperate need. David groaned at the sight of him and you couldn’t fucking blame him. Ash was debauched and ruined and staring needily up at him, as if the relief he wanted was waiting in David’s eyes. 

“He can get pretty loud.” you said, stroking one hand up Asher’s tensed thigh. “Give that mouth something to do, love.” 

The endearment surprised you, but not as much as the high, desperate whine that escaped Ash’s throat. His face pinched in desperation, and when David was still at his urging, Ash opened his mouth, hung his tongue out over his chin, a pathetic invitation to use him. 

If you could capture that image, you’d wear it around your finger like a wedding ring. 

David couldn’t seem to resit that face, those eyes, that hot, breathy moan. He surged forward, pinned Asher’s arms with either knee, and framed his head with his thighs. David took his own cock in hand, stroked himself once, twice, slow and still slick from Ash’s mouth. He held himself just out of reach, smiling sharply as Ash cursed and strained to reach him. 

“So desperate.” He breathed, more observation than admonishment. Ash’s blush darkened and his eyes fluttered closed. Ash found his pleasure somewhere between praise and degradation. It was a middle ground you didn’t have much experience with before meeting him, but one that you’d found your footing in eventually. David seemed to be falling in line as well, although you were making it easy for him. David didn’t need to think, didn’t have to guard Asher’s reactions, didn’t have to take up the hyper-vigilance around him like he did whenever he was with the pack. David was constantly protective, constantly on guard for any threat that approached his people. This was about him. You could take this weight off of his shoulders, if only for this evening. 

David thrust slowly into his own fist before moving lower, letting Asher’s clever mouth envelope one of his balls. He groaned, squeezed hard at the base of his cock with two fingers to keep control of his twitching cock. Asher hummed high on his pallet and hollowed his cheeks. He had done this a million times before and knew exactly how to drive David insane. He let his head roll back, let Asher work. 

You took the opportunity to lick a stripe up your palm and slick yourself up. You’d been ignoring your own needs this entire time, and just that touch was enough to drive you crazy. If that was took much, sinking into Asher, warm and inviting as he was made you see stars. You bent over him, fingers digging into the meat of Asher’s thighs, breathing harshly through clenched teeth as you bottomed out in Asher’s eager hole. You’d always prided yourself on your control. Control over your emotions, your actions, your urges. But here you were, barely maintaining it, teetering over the edge towards animalistic. You hung your head forward and breathed shallowly, panting with the effort it took to control the twitch of your hips. Asher moaned, a ditsy smile spreading across his face. He, who was always buzzing with movement and unfettered energy, was perfectly still and satisfied for a few heartbeats. Then as he grew impatient, he whined, his blissed-out expression marred by annoyance, and began to fuck himself back on your cock. 

A sound close to a growl emerged from your chest, one hand snapped to Asher’s stomach, splayed and pressing into the bulge your cock had formed there. David clenched his jaw, flashing teeth in warning, his eyes locking with yours. Careful, that look said. He’s mine. He’s mine. 

Eventually, the tension snapped. You broke eye contact first, casting your gaze away in what David could choose to interpret as submission if he wanted to. You didn’t know if you were capable of something like that, but if it calmed the wolf in David’s chest, then he could think whatever he wanted. At the end of the day, it was your bed that Asher would sink into. 

Slowly, agonizingly, you began to move, your hand still pressed Asher’s stomach. The skin of his belly extended with each thrust, and he moaned as he was held in place. 

“Fuck!” He cried, sounding close to tears. “Fuck- just- please! Faster!” 

“Or what, Puppy?” You hummed, your voice twisting between gentle coos and condescension. “What will you do?”

Asher huffed in frustration, twisting halfheartedly in your hold before going limp. He shot those sweet, round eyes at you, but you were immune to them at this point. 

“If you don’t behave,” you warned, your voice low and dangerous, “I’ll just leave you like this. Really give you something to whine about.” 

Asher jerked, his arms straining against David’s hold in his attempt to rectify his mistake. 

“No!” He cried, a hint of hysteria at the edges of his voice. “No! I promise I’ll behave!” His voice cracked on the words, wrecked and high. “I’ll be a good boy.” 

You couldn’t help but look up at David as he watched this exchange, to monitor his reaction as if it had any real weight to the dynamic you’d lovingly crafted with Asher. He was watching, dark eyed dazed, mouth open and breathless. David had a dominant edge, and he used it when he needed to corral Asher’s antics. But in the six months you’d been with Asher, you’d never seen someone do it as easily as you. You preened with the pride of it, with the knowledge that despite all of the love and time shared by the two of them, you had David beat at this at the very least. 

“So polite.” You grinned around the words. “I usually have to work a touch harder for you to be this… agreeable.” Your eyes flashed up to David, your chest filled with something between delight and wariness. David held, unflinching. “Be a good boy,” Asher moaned at the honorific, just the sound of it making his cock twitch, “show our guest how useful you can be.”

Asher looked up at David through his thick lashes, eyes glazed over and bleary. You had fucked that bright, insistent brattiness that never seemed to leave Asher, even when exhausted, injured, unconscious. And you’d done it in a blowjob and a few, shallow thrusts. 

David seemed to become aware of himself again, aware of Ash’s hot, wet mouth under him, aware of your calculating eyes watching him. He stroked himself once more, reacquainting himself with the feeling. Asher’s clever mouth opened when David pressed the head to his swollen lips, enveloped him once more in that heat like velvet. David closed his eyes to the feeling and seemed to lose himself in it entirely. 

You watched as Asher opened his throat up to David, angling his head just right so David could bottom out with every throat. Ash’s back arched, his throat elongated, showing off the dark bruises you had sucked into it before David had interrupted you two. David’s breath stuttered, his hands falling to Ash’s shoulders, holding him still as he fucked into him, watching the shape of his cock appear through the near-translucent skin of Asher’s neck. He cursed, one hand gripping tightly at the shape, and stroked himself once through Asher.

Your control snapped at the same moment David’s did. As he fucked forward, you pulled back, as he pulled back nearly far enough to see the head of his cock, you bottomed out inside of Ash. You pushed him back and forth from one cock to another, endlessly filled, continuously fucked. Asher made a series of devastating sounds, alternating between choking on David’s cock and moaning hoarsely with his sparse breath. You two wouldn’t last long now, not when Ash was this warm and soft and his hole swallowed you like it was all his body was built to do. 

You could feel David’s eyes on you as you snapped a series of precise thrusts into Ash, hitting him in just the right spot. Once you felt Ash contort around you as the tip of your cock brushed against his prostate, you adjusted to hit him there with every thrust. You always did aim to please. 

The muscles in your abdomen seized, your thrusts losing some rhythm as you approached your climax. You reached blindly for Ash’s untouched cock. You wrapped your hand around it, all pretense of teasing lost in your eagerness. That touch alone, in combination with your relentless assault on his prostate, was enough. Asher spilled messily over your fist and his own stomach, choking out a moan around David’s cock as his entire body tensed. Your hand, still sticky, came up and caught David’s shoulder, supporting him as he doubled over, driving his cock ruthlessly into Asher’s throat. 

“Come on,” you breathed, barely loud enough to hear, “come on, love.” 

Two more strokes and David was burying himself inside of Asher, bending until his forehead met Asher’s spasming stomach. He cried out, a wordless scream of pleasure or pain or relief. David when still and quiet, his body releasing the last of the tension in his sore muscles. 

That was your ultimate goal with all of this. The only issue was that he was still nine inches deep in Asher’s throat when he lost himself. 

You pressed your hands into his shoulders as Asher’s stomach started spasming, his hands smacking at David’s thighs in an attempt to snap him out of it. David gasped as you put all of the strength you had in moving that building of a man. David gave eventually, gasping and pulling away, back into the mess of pillows at the head of his bed. 

Asher surged up, coughing harshly, into your waiting arms. 

“Easy, baby,” you said softly, “breathe. That’s it.” You stroked a hand up and down his back as he caught his breath. 

“Ash-” David breathed, reaching for Asher and pushing back those wild curls. You watched his dark eyes catalog every bruise and mark, every inch of marred skin. “-I’m sorry, I-” 

“It’s okay!” Asher laughed, halfway between a rasp and a coughing fit. His voice, which was already gravely and rough, was nearly gone. But his eyes were bright and awake again, the spell that had overtaken him at your urging broke. “I’m fine! Look, look at me, I’m okay!” He turned to each of you, caught your eye. Even after being choked out by cock, Asher was focused on reassuring his two mother hens. 

You pressed a hand to the side of David’s neck, and while it did serve as a grounding touch, you were sure David knew what the real purpose was. You were checking his pulse, his vitals, trying to measure the amount of anxiety buzzing inside David at that moment. It was a trick you’d actually seen him use before with Milo’s mate, who had nearly endless energy and, when not directed, could turn into panic at a moment’s notice. David twitched as though to buck out of your touch, to push away the foreign feeling, but your hand on his skin was gentle and warm and relentless. 

Asher squirmed between you two, working himself properly into David’s arms repeating over and over that he was okay, that he was safe, that David hadn’t hurt him. Your pressed your forehead into his muscled back, repeating the same reassurances to yourself. Asher was here. Asher was safe. Ash was pressed against you, warm on your skin, breathing and sweating and ugh, sticky, you’d have to deal with that in a moment. David’s muscles began to relax again, whatever energy he’d managed in his panic leaking out of him quickly. His breathing stuttered, his eyes falling closed. You and Asher both jerked to support him as he went limp. 

Jesus, the guy needed a good fuck so bad this one had knocked him straight out. 

Asher helped you guide him down into an approximation of the recovery position, curled on his side. You nestled David’s head into one of his plush pillows. You stood on shaking knees and made for the ensuite to grab a rag. 

You were reminded, as you waited for the water to warm up, that you didn’t finish. Whatever. You sighed. This wasn’t about you. 

You wiped Asher down gently, wiping off his face first before moving down. Throat, stomach, thighs. He hummed into your touch as he stretched out on the bed next to David. His eyes dropped, sleepy and subdued. 

“You were so good for us, baby.” You murmured into his skin. Asher smiled and laughed softly, running a hand over your cheek, pushing your hair out of your face. 

“You called him love.” He said. You moved to start wiping David down too, the weight of that sentence sitting heavy in your stomach. 

Asher drifted off. You retreated to the kitchen, clad in one of David’s giant hoodies, and made tea. 

By the time you got back, David was awake, blinking owlishly into the softly lit room. Asher as snoring loudly next to him, curled into a ball and pressed into David’s side. 

“He’ll go on like that for hours.” You muttered, false annoyance coloring your voice. 

“You took care of him?” David asked, demanded. He brushed a few stray curls away from Asher’s open mouth, twisted his wild hair into a loose, short braid. 

“Of course.” You didn’t manage to reign in the offense that colored your tone, like it was the only thing you could have done. That wasn’t true, of course. Asher didn’t talk about it often, but he mentioned his former bedfellows sometimes like their mistreatment could be considered a punchline. You imagined that David had cleaned up the messes of more than a few strangers who treated Asher exactly how he asked them to and then left him alone to deal with the aftermath. Asher did best when coddled after sex, especially since he liked it so rough. He flourished under keen attention, physical contact, gentle, loving care. 

You never could deny Asher anything, not anything that mattered. You supposed that was a cross that both you and David had to bear. 

“Took care of you too, for what it’s worth.” You set one cup of tea down on the bedside table next to Asher and walked around to David’s side of the bed. You set it in his hand and motioned for him to drink. He obeyed your silent order and brought it to his lips, breathing in the steam. 

“That’s usually my job.” David sighed, taking a sip and wincing at the bitter brew. “Did you…”

“Doesn’t matter.” You grinned and found your pants among the mess on the floor. Your cigarette holder and lighter were right where you left them. “This was never about me. Do you smoke?” 

David considered you silently for a moment before shrugging. 

“Depends. What is it?” 

“Lavender. Weed. No tobacco or anything.” 

“It won’t hurt, I guess.” 

David sat up straight, twisting to stretch out his back, you heard a series of painful-sounding pops as he did. He turned to look down at Asher, his lithe form wrapped in a plush blanket. He looked so small curled up like that, just a puff of hair and a few stray limbs sticking out of his mound of blankets here and there. David smiled gently, helpless to the tug of it on his lips. 

You sat gently next to David on the bed and brought two of your hand rolled joints to your lips, let them with a flick of your lighter,  and took that first, bitter drag for David. You brought one to David’s waiting lips. He inhaled and tried to contain his cough inside his tight chest. 

“Eventually,” you said, letting out a mouthful of smoke, “you’ll have to start letting us take care of you.” David nearly choked on his smoke as you withdrew not letting him raise a hand to take it himself. “Since you are so determined to take care of everyone around you. 

You stayed like that for a while, you bringing the joint to his lips between sips of tea, your fingers soothing gentle massages over the bruises on David’s neck, attending to him like a helpless child or ailing grandmother. It was almost awkward, the way your unbroken attention held David hostage, kept him still and compliant to your silent direction. But he let it continue anyway, let you fret over him for a few spare minutes in the dark where nobody else, not even your shared, snoring problem, would see. 

Eventually, you took the half-finished cup of tea from David’s hands and dunked the buds of your joints into the still-warm liquid. You poked and prodded at him and bullied him back into bed. You pulled the covers up over his shoulders. David brought his arms around Asher, pulled his arm, pliant body to his chest, breathed in the sunshine scent of his hair. 

You had beaten him to Asher. Ash had called you pack, had called you mate. While David was wrapped up inside of himself, you had come in unexpectedly and won him fair and square. David could doubt that connection all he liked, but it was about the only thing in his life that David got absolutely zero say in. He’d had twenty-five years to make Asher his and he hadn’t. That was on him. 

You shimmied into your pants, tugged off David’s shirt and replaced it with your own. You felt David’s eyes on you as you slowly gathered yourself and made for the door. 

“If you hurt him,” David said quietly, his face buried in the tangle of Asher’s hair, “I’ll kill you.” 

Defeat, admitted clearly between them. You had beaten him to Asher and now David had said it, handed him over willingly. David couldn’t get through a fuck without passing out and nearly chocking Ash out. You could calm Asher’s mind, could direct his endless energy, could correct his behavior with one word or movement. And you’d figured out how to do it better than David in six months. You were the better person for the job, strenuous as it was. Asher needed someone to take care of him. You could do that, and David could not.

Even still, the implications were clear. David knew what kind of person you were. He was the same. You both had the capacity to be horrible, to break hearts, to crush people like Asher without even trying. 

You were quiet for a long time, your hand on the door. Finally, you opened it into the hallway. You left Asher in David’s arms, knowing who he’d come back to come morning. David’s threat hung in the air. You turned back. 

“If I hurt him,” you said, “I’ll let you.” 

[taintedcigs]

— cowboy hat rule.

pairing: cowboy!steve harrington x fem!reader

warnings: smut, p in v, MINORS DNI!!!!, pet names, praising, kinda degrading but not really, a lil argument, dom!steve, rivals to fcking, swearing, good old bj for our good boy stevie! reader has a nickname 'sunshine' bc i didn't wanna do y/n sorry:(

summary: helping out mr. harrington in his ranch was supposed to be fun, but steve harrington was an asshole. an absolute pain in your ass that teased you, and you gave him the same energy back, always. so when you unknowingly wear his cowboy hat, he decides to teach you what exactly the cowboy hat rule is. (wc: 5k+)

author's note: this is just horny babbling. i have no idea how cowboy lore works so if im wrong pls just close ur eyes i tried to research but i couldnt find shit just pls i just want cowboy steve dick. and ofc no proof-reading bc im lazy as hell. no dividers ugly aesthetic bc of tumblrs f ass not showing my shit in tags SIGH.

also PLSSS LIKE + REBLOG + COMMENT TO SUPPORT ME MWAH ILY

When you told Mr. Harrington you’d be more than happy to help around his Ranch during the summer, you didn’t expect Steve to become a problem, but you were wrong, so fucking wrong. 

A cocky cowboy who’s way too into partying and into his looks and his fluffy hair than you could ever imagine. That’s exactly how you’d describe Steve Harrington. Even though you so badly wanted to believe otherwise, wanted to disregard the rumors and the reputation that came with him. But, he made it so goddamn hard. 

All he fucking did was tease you, complain. Order you around and act like you didn’t know how to do shit. And, you didn’t, but he was supposed to be your guidance, teach you. But all he did was grumble and give you that goddamned smirk. 

Yet, you couldn’t fully hate him, there was a side of him he rarely showed you, one that cared, one that offered you rides—it was more of a mumble each night but you accepted nonetheless, one that ended up at your side whenever an asswipe bothered you at the bar, one that offered you a hand on your back when you were crying, he didn’t ask what happened, didn’t speak, just stood there, letting you spill out your guts. The two of you never spoke about these incidents, ever, because he acted like they didn’t exist, like he couldn’t bear the thought of being nice to you. 

You were so fascinated by him, even though you’d never admit it out loud. He was charismatic, outright funny, and had a heart of gold that you only peered one layer of. 

And fuck it, he was fine, annoyingly good-looking that he was a distraction to be around when you were supposed to be working, him with those sturdy denim jeans that cupped his ass perfectly, wide-brimmed cowboy hat with a creased crown, put perfectly on his head. Even though you’d much rather see his pretty hair falling on his face, run your hands through his smooth layers.

Usually, when it got as hot as it did today, he’d even take off that stupid shirt, feast your eyes with his glimmering chest, all hairy and glistening with sweat, broad shoulders as he ordered everyone around made you gulp. Like he is doing with you, right fucking now. 

“Sunshine, get back to work.” Heat travels to your cheeks quickly, and that stupid nickname rolls off his lips so bitterly, the one he always called you just because you were all nice and smiley—even when he was being an asshole to you, something that grinded his gears, you guessed it was a foreign concept to him, being nice. 

You were quick to shake off the hold he had on you, getting back on your feet as you stood your ground. “I am working! Just needed a second to breathe!” The lies rolled off your lips so simply that you wondered if he caught you staring. When he turned around to leave, you guessed he hadn’t. 

“Asshole.” The insult leaves you before you can register how close Steve still was to you. 

Turning head-spinningly fast. “What did ya say?” He spits, making you gulp physically. 

He looks out of the world stunning when he’s mad, maybe it’s a toxic trait of yours but, fuck, the way his chocolate hues turn unrecognizable, that slight quirk of his brows, and the way his muscles flex in pure anger made you rub your thighs together. 

Jesus Christ. He is getting into your head, and you hate that you think of him this way when he is so mean. 

“Nothing! I’m just saying it’s really hot out today,” you hum, the sun rays hitting your face not making it easier on the heat that flame your cheeks. 

He gives you a snort, all mocking once he takes a step closer, making you feel hotter if that is possible. “Well that’s what happens in the summer, darlin’”

Hand on the wall he tilts his head slightly, all with sass that has you rolling your eyes. “Or did you expect the weather to give Miss Sunshine some sorta special treatment?”

You roll your eyes, an act you always did that makes Steve’s jaw clench. “Oh, come on Steve! It’s really, really, hot, and the sun is all on my face!”

“Boo-hoo, princess,” he mocks, tipping his hat, almost as if to tease you further.

You scoff, getting closer to him. “Easy for you to just stand around in that big hat!” With a narrowed gaze, you cross your arms against your chest, like a brat, another trait that annoyed Steve even further.

Then, you beam again, and Steve knows no matter how much you hate it, Sunshine is absolutely the nickname you deserve, eyes glistening with happiness that it annoyingly even brings a glint to his pretty amber hues. His gaze unintentionally droops down to tour lips, so plushy and soft looking when it curls into that pretty smile that Steve wants to kiss you all over. 

“Oh! Do you mind if I?” You ask all giggly, pointing toward his wide-brimmed hat, hand teasingly standing above his head. 

He scoffs as if you had just asked him the most insulting question ever. “Not a chance,” he spits, now he crosses his arms in front of his chest, eyeing you with a dark glint in his eyes, one you couldn’t decide was full of annoyance or just pure desire. 

“Mhmmm… okay,” you hum, feigning innocence for a second, before snatching it off his head with another hearty giggle.

Oh, what he would do to hear that on a loop, admire the way your lips stretched into the prettiest grin, brows quirked.

“Sunshine!” He chides, much rougher than he intends to, but you don’t pay attention to him when you place the hat carefully on your head, smoothing your hair.

You shrug, looking up at him with those doe eyes that have him melting, everytime, without fail. “Admit it, looks better on me.” You shrug, expecting him to agree.

Instead, he just offers you a deep sigh of breath, eyes almost widening when he realises what you just did. “Do you even—”

He huffs, hiding the obvious pink shade thats starting to color his cheeks, you really had no idea the hold you had on him, did you? “God, you city girls have no idea about anything, huh?”

Your brows furrow. “What?” 

“Cowboy hat rule?” He asks with a tilt of his head, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest.

A teasing smile curves on your plushy lips as you push for more information. “What’s that?”

“Just give me the hat back,” he insists, attempting to mask the warmth that crept into his tone.

With a shake of your head, your defiance only grows, a glint of mischief dancing in your gaze. “Not until you tell me the rules.” 

“Sunshine,” he warns, voice so grumbly that heat travels all over your body quicker than the sun burning you. 

“Steve?” You hum with a flirty gaze, so teasing that Steve wants to fuck you right then and there, until he teaches you proper manners, until he shows you not to be a total fucking brat and not to roll your eyes at him, until he shows you that you’re his. 

But, of course, he settles on a low grumble of, “You’re annoying.”

“You used to be more creative with the insults, Harrington.” Another teasing remark, and Steve rolls his tongue inside of his mouth. 

With a smirk, he takes another step toward you, when your back hit the walls of the barn, only then you realise, he has you cornered. “You wanna know the cowboy hat rule, princess?” He asks all smugly.

Gaze meaner than he is, chest almost pressed against yours, voice so low that all you can do is slightly nod. 

Your breath gets hitched in your throat when his face is mere inches away from yours, hot breath fanning against your cheeks, skin heating on the impact, that brattiness you wear as a mask quick to slip off when he’s all demanding. “You wear the hat, you ride the cowboy.” His tone is almost a growl, pupils blown wide, making you gulp, physically.

“What?” You blink, unsure of what he’s actually asking. Excitement jumping around in your tummy. 

“You heard me. Wanna take me for a ride, Sunshine?” He is so goddamn close that you are sure he can hear the annoying tumble your heart does at the weight of what his words hold. 

It makes you pause, gaze sticking on his, sometimes slipping away to his soft lips, almost to signal him of something, but all you can do is try to hide the embarrassment that burns your cheeks. 

“Didn’t think so,” he scoffs, backing away just slightly. 

His cowboy hat is too big on your head, tipping low over your eyes, possibly hiding your nervousness as you mutter, “What if I do?”

With a smooth motion, he flips it off from your head, holding it with his palm, away from you. “Get back to work, Sunshine.”

“I’m serious—”

“So am I, those horses ain’t gonna straddle their strap themselves, off. to. work,” he hisses, turning to leave.

You huff, heat still burning off your cheeks, more embarrassed than annoyed, yet you still don’t have it in yourself to let it go, you can’t let him have this. Win this.

Quick to snatch the hat back, “So the hat rule is, wear the cowboy hat, ride the cowboy, huh?” You mumble behind him, your voice failing you, yet you appear to be giggly, and Steve heaves a deep sigh of breath, before fully turning to you.

He halts a bit when he sees you once again, in his hat, tipped low, that stupidly addicting smirk gracing your slightly-open lips, hand on your hips, and all he wants to do is fuck you till you lose that attitude of yours. 

“Stop,” he warns, taking a step closer to you but with a shake of your head you back away, and he sighs, loud and annoyed. 

“Gimme that, sunshine!”

“Nuh-uh.” All teasing and bratty, and grating on Steve’s last nerve. You know this, yet you wanna keep pushing him, further and further, until he snaps, until he can’t take it anymore. You have no reason to do this, you’re supposed to hate him, think of him as an annoying asshole.

But the two of you are finally tethering on that line, the line between purely teasing each other out of spite, to teasing each other out of flirting, you know that, and you don’t wanna take a step back. “Prove it.”

You are all up in his face, and all he can do his roll his eyes, cheeks beetle red, frustration worn on his face. “Knock it off.”

You tut gently, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “Not until you—” Your words are interrupted quickly when he snatches up the hat from your head in annoyance, making you gasp when he discarded it easily.

“Get back to work!” His voice raises, and it makes you take a deep breath.

Shit, did you fuck this up?

“What?” You question, entire body feeling dizzy. He takes a step closer.

“You heard me.”

Another step closer, his breaths come out in short gasps, frustration taking over him. “Get back to fuckin’ work, before I can’t stop myself.”

He is close. Too fucking close, and you can’t help the way your gaze droops down to his soft lips, slightly parted open, downturned from frustration. God, you realize how hot he is when he is angry, once again. “F—from what?”

He hesitates, before licking his lips. This is it. He wants, no, he desperately needs you. Needs to put you to your place. Teach you what happens to bratty girls like you. Show you what exactly the stupid rule is. “From fucking you in this goddamn barn.”

You release the breath you’ve been holding back, feeling small, so small under his gaze. Mouth hanging open, and all you want is him to pin you against the wall, have you screaming out his name. “From making sure I show you how the goddamn cowboy hat rule works.”

Your back is plastered against the wall, his hands are by your side, you are caged beneath him, chest rising in anticipation. “Is that what you want, honey, think you can handle all of that?” He’s so smug, and you don’t know what overtakes you when he’s all in control like this, you wanna obey him, make him happy, proud, so you bite back on your insults.

His smirk is dangerously alluring, and you’re under his spell. 

“Please,” you beg, heat finds your cheeks again, you hate the hold he has on you.

He barks out a chuckle, so mean, yet as equally hot. “Please, what? Speak up,” he spits, rolling his tongue inside of the roof of his mouth, lips wearing a smirk.

“Ruin me,” your voice is small, meek, yet it makes him groan. 

You’re such a good girl for him, and he wants nothing more than to ruin you. Fully. Completely. Ruin you for every other man. 

His head ducks down to your neck, leaving a sloppy kiss before leaning into your ear, his breath hot on your neck, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “Goddamit darlin’, you gonna be the death of me, huh?”

You don’t—you can’t answer, you’re speechless, rubbing your thighs together desperately, seeking some friction, a touch, anything. 

He levels with you again, dangerous gaze on your lips, fingertips brushing against your cheeks teasingly “You know what I always wanted to do, sunshine?” He coarses lowly. 

“W—what?” You ask with a gulp, lips twitching with need. 

He gives you another grin, that asshole. The pad of his thumb slowly caressing your lips now, making you shiver with hunger. “Always wanted to put you to your place, you and that damn smart mouth, always runnin’ it for no good reason. I’d give you a good reason for those pretty lips, huh? Use it the way I wanna use it, fill it the way I wanna feel it,” he grunts like he said the most normal thing, yet you’re already squirming, wanting to open your lips, take his fingers in your mouth and suck on them, show him how much of a good girl you can be for him.

He has you on such a hold already, and you can’t complain. For someone who seemed to be annoyed—hell, even hated him a few minutes ago, you feel crazy, batshit insane, all you want is him.  

His fingertips play with your lips all teasingly, pupils blown wide, the other hand caresses your hair so possessively that you melt into his touch. “You gonna be good for me sweet thing?”

He doesn’t have to ask you twice. “Y—yes, sir.”

Sir. 

Godfuckingdammit. You don’t know the hold you have on him, do you?

He bites back on the moan that rumbles in his throat, instead settling on a, “Good girl.” Your puppy dog eyes glint at the praise, and he makes a mental note of it. . 

“Get on your knees f’me, darlin’,” he grumbles, and you’re quick to obey, not minding the uncomfortable feeling of the wooden floors scraping your knees, or the fact that anyone might’ve walked in, the door was locked, and there was probably no one around yet Mr. Harrington might’ve returned to the ranch at any moment. But he made you feel safe, somehow. 

You look up at him with those doe-eyes again, making him suck in a breath before he unbuttons his jeans and pushes them off his hips, boxers so tight around his hard cock that he grunts involuntarily.  

Your eyes go wide the second his erection springs free, almost hitting the tip of your nose, red, angry and leaking with pre-cum, he lets out a chuckle at your expression before grabbing the base of his cock. 

Same eyes, looking up at him all hungrily, Steve feels the way blood rushes quickly to his cock, making him harder if that's even possible, with a groan he runs the leaking tip across your lips. “Open up.”

Your hand replaces his quickly, and he runs his fingers through several strands of your hair, teaching you how exactly he wants you. 

You open your mouth wide, just like he likes it, tongue giving his slit kitten licks, moaning at the taste of his salty pre-cum, wrapping your plushy lips around his thick head, and sucking the life out of him, determined, and feigning innocence with the soft gaze you held. 

Head thrown back, heavy boots planted on the harsh ground, he lets out a low groan, stroking your hair all softly. “Look at you s’pretty like this for me.”

His hand wraps tighter around your hair, pushing you onto him, making sure you gag a little and that only spurs you on, making you whine around his cock, the sound reverberating through his chest. “Cat got your tongue, darlin’?” He chuckles all meanly. 

“God, do you have any idea how many times I wanted to shut up that bratty mouth like this?” He asks with grunts leaving his open mouth, hand working harshly around your head, mouth feeling like heaven the more you bob around his thick length, struggling to take all of him. 

“Those pretty lips are—mmpf, shit—better stuffed with my cock than being a spoiled lil’ city girl runnin’ her mouth, ain’t that right, baby?” You nod meekly, angelic eyes seeking for his validation before you flatten your tongue around the sensitive part of his tip, struggling to take all of him in your mouth. Earning guttural moans, eyes squeezed shut as he feels your soft lips wrapped around him again.

“Fuck, sweet thing.” You can feel his filthy grunts straight in your core, all low and lewd that you almost moan around him again, he puts one hand on the wall, helping himself to better move in and out of your throat. 

He knows if you keep this up, he’ll cum right and there, and fuck, he needs that. But he needs to be inside of you more. 

You keep up your stroking, now adjusting yourself properly to start licking and sucking on his balls. “Sunshine, you need to s—stop,” the words barely leave his lips, he so doesn’t want you to stop. But, he needs to cum inside of you. 

Yet, you don’t listen to him as your movement speeds up, determined to feel his load warming your throat, make him proud, and your mouth bobs harder around his length, making him growl at you harshly. “Sunshine,” he warns, pulling you by your hair. 

You’re quick to take a deep breath of air once he pulls you off, looking up at him with the perfect innocent eyes, your lips wearing the prettiest pout. “Was that not good for you, Stevie?” 

Stevie. That nickname makes his head spin faster, all he wants to do is fuck you against those stupid rustic walls, have you screaming out for him, the whole ranch filled with your filthy noises, no one was around anyway.

“You kiddin’, sweetheart?” He gives you a chuckle, wrapping his hands around your jaw, pulling you off the floor. 

“You were fuckin’ amazing,” he hums, leaning down to kiss you, tasing the salty semen on your tongue. 

His hands are quick to travel along to your waist, fingertips finding their way onto your panties rather quickly, earning a gasp out of you. “Need to be in here first, honey.”

You nod, so quickly that you can feel him grinning into the kiss, his hands are everywhere, yours are more or less the same, quick to get rid of his top, to feel his toned chest in your soft hands, your top is sprawled right next to his, revealing your pink and gold bra at him, breasts peeking out just enough to have him groan, big hands quick to get rid of them. 

He has you caged against the amber walls, back hitting the rough material, making you hiss. Your skin heats at the impact, it’s filthy, lewd, and so public, but none of you even care enough to break the kiss. He settles between your thighs, his pants drooped to his ankles, hands rubbing across your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

The sight of you so easily submitting to him, makes his cock grow harder than he thought was possible, looking so ethereal that Steve forgets all about everything else. “Sunshine,” he breathes, hands fiddling with the hem of your panties. 

“Mhmm,” is all you can muster, legs slightly open for him, and he almost feels possessive over you, it’s entirely stupid, but he looks so fucking alluring with those dark chestnut eyes, layered hair a mess, and cock weeping entirely with the thought of you. 

His thumb runs over the seam of your pussy, just a glimpse of how his fingers are going to ruin you, and you pulse and clench against him already. Wet. Drenched. And all ready to take him. “You’re soaked,” he groans.

Leaning further into your ear, “is that all for me, honey?” he rasps, desperate, needing your confirmation. 

Heat grows in your cheeks faster than a scorching day in July, and he grins, again, all cocky and proud. “Yes,” you admit meekly, and Steve’s quick to kiss your worries away. 

“God, you’re so fuckin’ pretty like this,” he growls, swirling your wetness up and around your slit, almost toying with you, having you desperately mewl for him. 

He can’t put his finger on it, what it is that draws him this much into you, but he’s hooked, so goddamn obsessed that he feels like an idiot, for being this much of an asshole, for acting like a grade school boy who’s pulling the pigtails of his crush. Like a stupid cliche. 

“Stevie.” That nickname, again. Godfuckingdammit, Steve thinks. You have him so wrapped around your finger, it’s like a prayer, and he’s sure you’re not aware of it. And it drives him even crazier. “Please.”

“Talk to me.” His voice is low, lips now nipping at your neck, suckling, giving you all the marks you need. 

“I need you,” you hum, eyes squeezed shut, desperate. His finger discard your panties and slide easily inside of you, your back is fully dipped into the well-worn walls with how good he feels, his thick fingers making their way in and out of your soppy cunt, whines leave your lips faster than you can comprehend. 

“Ruin me, Steve, fully, completely.” You don’t know how those words leave past your lush lips, but your thighs ache with need, cunt throbbing for him and him only. 

His eyes widen quickly, pure hunger quick to fill his veins, mouth hanging open, curses leaving his lips at how forward you are being. “Show me the cowboy hat rule, sir.” 

Steve all but groans, mouth harshly on yours again, chests pressed together and you can feel how hard he truly is, rock stiff, and aching to be inside of you. The sheer size of how he feels against your thighs almost makes your eyes bulge again. 

His fingers stop moving in and out of you, before you can whine, he spins you around so fast that you gasp loudly, hands immediately plastered on the wall, pleasure and excitement fills your tummy, but the fact that he’s seeing you all vulnerable like this is embarrassing enough that you try to close your legs. 

He’s quick to stop you with a grin, rough hands landing on the back of your thighs, spreading them open while tutting you. “Nuh-uh. Don’t get all shy now, princess. Spread them open f’me.” You spread them a little, cunt throbbing with how close his fingers are. 

He groans again once he fully gets a view of you like this, face down, ass up, your pussy slicked with your juices, at his mercy. “‘M gonna ruin you, honey, don’t you worry.” A dark chuckle barks out from his chest, sending chills down your spine, almost making you whine. 

Fuck. 

His hands are rough when he has you by your waist, bruising almost. Lining his cock in front of your slick core, he swipes the head of his reddened tip inside of you with one forceful thrust. Your plushy lips open slightly, stealing your breath away as you try to adjust to his size.

Shit, shit, shit, he feels even better than you fucking expected.

His cock splits you open, filling every goddamn inch of you. You don’t know how many times you thought this, but, shit, he’s as big as the gossip in this small town says he is. 

His thrusts are slow, grunts so loud and heavenly that it spurs you on more and more. His weight on you, the bruising hold. You feel him everywhere. On your back, hips, and fucking inside of you.

“F-fucking, fuck!” he growls, leaving nibbles all over your shoulder and back, even with the fact that this was Steve, and he was rough and filthy, it was wildly intimate, so wildly intimate that you could feel your heart pounding inside of your chest. 

“How are you this fuckin’ tight, s-sweetheart?” One of his hands travel up to your neck, roughly holding you down, hips slamming into you with such force that you cry out.

He watches the way his girthy cock disappears in and out of you, wetting himself with your juices, filling every inch of you. “Doin’ s’good for me, princess.” His praises are heavenly, making your chest swell with pride.

He moves inside of your soppy cunt with short thrusts. Completely bottomed out, thrusting against the same sensitive spot every time as his balls, heavy with cum grind against your clit, with each movement, making you cry out his name, babbles leaving your mouth. “Yeah, you like this don’t ya? Want me to ruin this slutty pussy, huh? Ruin it for every other men?”

You nod all dumbly, yet, it isn’t enough for him. He wants to hear you, have you scream it out. “Say it, sweet thing, fuckin’ say it,” he groans, coarse voice making tingles appear everywhere on your skin. 

“I-I love it, Stevie, want you to ruin me for everyone else, mmpf,” you moan all fucked out, eyes rolled all the way back to your head, hips desperately grinding against him for some more friction. 

He picks up his pace, fucking into you with reckless abandon.“F-fuck doll, won’t last if you keep runnin’ that dirty mouth.” 

But his words just encourage you to keep going, gasps coming out in short breaths as you manage to drive him crazier. “All yours, sir, all yours.” 

He grunts at that, one of his arms snaking around and under your hips to find a better angle, lifting you up so that he can fuck his cock deeper into you, make you feel how fucking big he really is. “That’s right, baby, it’s all fuckin’ mine.”

Hot tears spill down your cheeks, entire body burning with it. The slick sounds of his hips driving into you, your moans, his low groans are all that fill the room. So fucking filthy, and you can feel yourself clenching around him. 

It’s all too much; his hands everywhere, the lewd noises he makes, how deep his girthy cock is bottomed out inside of you, making you feel every ridge. It’s fucking perfect, and you desperately need to cum. 

And of fucking course, Steve can feel your pussy gripping him, so tight that he knows he’s gonna cum right after you do. “Gonna cum f’me, huh? Such a good girl,” he praises, again, knowing the effect it has on you and all you can do is gasp and weakly nod. 

One of his thumbs quickly finds your clit, making your pussy throb around him in pure ecstasy, all the overstimulation enough to have you crying like a bitch in heat. “Give it to me, angel,” he murmurs, pressing open-mouthed kisses everywhere on your skin.   

His movements pick up, padded thumb rubbing circles around your clit, the other hand landing on your nipples, twisting them while pumping into you, it’s all too much that it makes you sob and beg for him. 

“Cream my cock, let me ruin you completely, darlin’” It’s all the confirmation you need as your orgasm builds and washes through you, body exploding with pleasure, spreading through your skin as you scream out his name. 

Your pussy squeezes and pulses around his cock, and he fucking knows, he won’t last, not in the slightest. “S-shit, sweet thing, gonna make me cum with all those filthy noises.” 

“Want that, honey, hmm? Wanna be filled with my cum? Show everybody in this town who owns ya? Owns this tight lil’ cunt?” He feels it, that pure hunger for you over taking him, coarse voice, dark eyes, like a man possessed. His fingers dig further into your skin as he desperately chases his orgasm, enjoying the sloppy sounds your pussy makes as he drives into you.

“P-please, Stevie, n-need your cum,” you weakly hum. And it fucking breaks him. Hips losing all rhythm when he spills his warm load into you, twitching inside of you once he pumps you full of his cum. 

“Jesus fucking Christ, Sunshine,” he breathes, collapsing on your back, both of you trying to come down from the high. He slips free of you slowly, his cum dripping down your thighs, making him grin proudly. 

“S-steve,” you weakly murmur, collapsing in his arms. He holds you down, slight kisses left on your back, delicate in a way you have never seen him before. Yet, the two of you don’t mention it, “let me take you home,” he mutters, a gentle hold on you that makes you feel warm.

“N-no.”

“No?” Intrigued, his breath gets caught in his throat, the look you give him is so sultry that the blood rushes to his cock in an instant again. Fucking fuck, what have you done to him.

“We still haven’t followed the rules,” you purr sweetly, causing him to raise his brows in excitement, tempting him further and further. 

“The rule was wear the hat, ride the cowboy, wasn’t it?” You question with a slight grin, eyes lulled, still fucked out. 

Your fingertips gently grazed against his chest, hairy and slicked with sweat, his sudden dominance fading when you were so quick to switch from begging to cum underneath him to gaining that flirty, giddy personality again. Already leaving him a mess. “Y-yeah,” he murmured, watching you hungrily, his cock already weeping again. 

“Then, sit down and lemme take care of you, cowboy,” you ordered again, shuddering breaths leaving him in an instant.   

Now you were going to ruin him.

Fully.

Completely.

And Steve couldn’t be more infatuated. You were truly his demise.   

[juniperskye]

I choose you.

Sneak peek: After a one-night stand, you find yourself pregnant. You choose to take some time off to get your life in order (aka ready for a baby), when Hotch stops by to make sure you’re okay. You confide in him and after a late night of talking, and months of mutual pining, Hotch offers to help you raise the baby. With this newfound dynamic, how will Hotch handle you working in the field? How will your lives change?

Aaron Hotchner x (Fem) Reader

Fluff/Angst

Word count: 7599 (OMFG sorry)

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited I've been working on this for so long...I did my best- please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!! My blog is 18+, minors DNI, implied age gap (kinda?), secret relationship, mention of period and menstrual cycle, mention of doctors and hospitals, mention of typical pregnancy related care, secret pregnancy, mention of pregnancy, Hotch being a little smothering lol, mentions of canon typical violence, some language, team members meddling, mention of Jack, no mention of Hailey (she just doesn’t exist in this – Hotch  has always been a single dad), no use of y/n. I think that’s all, let me know if I missed any!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

“Hey, you’re looking a little green there sugar.” Morgan said, gently nudging your elbow.

“Yeah girl, keep it to your side!” Emily laughed, pushing your file further onto your desk.

“Alright, if I was contagious, don’t you think you’d all be sick by now? It has to be from something I ate…I guess it’s time to clean out the fridge.” Shaking your head you got back to work.

“You know the most common causes of nausea and vomiting are infections (like the stomach flu), food poisoning, motion sickness, pregnancy, and migraines. We can rule out the stomach flu given that none of us have gotten sick, and motion sickness since we haven’t travelled in a few days. I’d say food poisoning seems most likely, and it should pass soon given that it typically lasts anywhere from 12-48 hours.” Spencer rattled off.

“Thanks Spence.” You smiled.

Your mind began spiraling, this little bout of vomiting had been going on for far longer than 48 hours. Was it possible something at home was contaminated and you’d had “never-ending” food poisoning? You thought about the other conditions Spencer had mentioned, no to the stomach flu, no to motion sickness, probably not food poisoning. You had migraines, but definitely weren’t currently suffering from a spell…so that left. Nope. No way.

Could it be possible? When was your last period? Shit. You pulled out your phone and opened the Flo app and your last charted period was…EIGHT WEEKS AGO. What the fuck? How had you missed that?  After pondering for a few minutes, you realized that around that time, the team had a particularly tough case where children were being kidnapped from malls in Alabama. The case had a happy ending, but it had taken seven days for you to catch the guy.  You had chalked up the missed cycle to stress – it happened sometimes.

After excusing yourself, you made your way to the bathroom. While in the bathroom, you made two calls, one to your primary care physician, and then one to the OBGYN that they referred you to. Thankfully (pure luck truly) they had an opening tomorrow morning.

You quickly made your way to Hotch’s office to see if he would allow you to come in late tomorrow. He was usually understanding about these things since you guys really have to take any doctor’s appointments you can get with your ridiculous schedule.

You knocked on the door frame softly, taking note of his nod, granting permission to enter. You walked cautiously to his desk, trying to work out the phrasing of this request in your head.

“I can hear the gears turning in your head, what’s going on?” Hotch questioned.

“Sorry Hotch, I uh, I just have a quick question for you.” You began. “You see, I haven’t been feeling great the last few days, so I called my doctor, and they can squeeze me in tomorrow first thing. Would it be possible for me to come in late so I can make that appointment?”

“Is that all? Of course, just come in when you can.” He finally met your gaze, offering a subtle smile.

**8 weeks pregnant**

You sat, bare legs causing the sterile paper beneath you to crinkle, the noise seemed to echo in the otherwise silent room. You had left a urine sample when you first arrived at the office, and they had just taken a blood sample. The nurse had asked you a million questions and you had to fill out nearly 20 different forms.

“Alright, so the urine test came back as positive for pregnancy.” The doctor informed you.

“Wow, um okay. So, what are the next steps?”

“Well, we are going to send your blood in to check your HCG levels amongst other things, that will give us a pretty good estimate as to how far along you are. We will give you a call when those results come in. I am going to send you home with some literature on what foods, medication, drinks, over all activities to avoid as well as some recommendations for prenatal vitamins and a prescription for some anti-nausea medication. There is also a card in there with the triage number in case of an emergency. So, what questions do you have for me?” The doctor concluded.

“I uh, when will I need to come back in? Also, I am a field agent with the FBI, I guess I’ll probably need a doctor’s note as proof of pregnancy, and then one later down the line I suppose, excusing me from duty.” You inquired.

“Once we get your HCG levels and can get a better idea of how far along you are, we will give you that call and then we will schedule your next appointment. Based on your last cycle, we will probably have you come back pretty soon for a transvaginal ultrasound and then your following appointment would be around your 12-week mark. As for work, I can get you that document now and then yes, as your pregnancy progresses we will discuss changes that will have to be made at work. Did you need a note for today?” She answered.

“Okay, that sounds good. And yeah, a note for today would be great. Thank you.”

Thoughts were racing through your head, the things you’d have to buy, getting your apartment prepared, telling the father (what was his name again…Michael? Brady? You’d have to figure that one out), telling your boss and the team, the changes to your body? Oh god, what have you gotten yourself into?

The second you stepped off the elevator your stomach twisted, and you darted to the bathroom. After emptying the contents of your stomach, you rinsed your mouth out and made your leave. What you weren’t expecting was Hotch on the other side of the door.

“Oh, sorry Hotch.”

“No need to apologize, I just wanted to see that you were alright. JJ let me know she saw you running in here.” He explained.

“I-I’m not feeling too great honestly. Do you think, maybe, I could head home for the day?” you queried.

“I think that is a good idea, you should get some rest. You know, you have a bunch of time off saved up – I’m not telling you to use it, but if you wanted to, it’s there. Do you need a ride home?” He asked.

“No, I think I’m okay. And I also think I am going to take you up on that suggestion. Do you think I could take like the next four days?”

“Absolutely, I’ll submit your time. You head home and get some rest. I’ll let Garcia know, that way she won’t call you if a case comes in.” He said.

“Thanks Hotch.”

“You’re welcome. Do me a favor, let me know when you get home safe.” He requested.

**9 weeks pregnant**

The next four days passed by in a blur, you had read through all the information the OBGYN sent you home with, you’d gone and picked up your medications from the pharmacy, cleaned your house, went grocery shopping, and you gotten your results back from the doctor. You had gotten the call yesterday that your HCG levels had placed you between 8 and 9 weeks pregnant and you had scheduled your ultrasound for the following Wednesday. You’d have to tell Hotch everything when you’re back at work tomorrow.

You also made a very awkward phone call to Jensen (damn, you were wayyy off) and he had been very pleased when you informed him that you didn’t want anything from him, he agreed that it would probably be best that way. You didn’t need to be tied to some one-off forever anyway, this was for the best. You just hoped your child wouldn’t resent you for not having a present father.

A knock at your door shook you from your thoughts. You checked your phone, 7:32 p.m. and a notification from Uber Eats that your tacos had been delivered! You paused your movie and shuffled to the door, checking the peephole once, then twice to confirm the identity of this visitor. You made quick work of unlocking and opening the door.

“Aaron? What are you doing here?”

“I came to see how you were feeling. I also ran into your delivery guy.” He explained.

��Come in, I ordered enough for two if you’re hungry?” You posed.

“I wouldn’t want to impose.” He shook his head.

“Not at all, come on in.”

You quickly realized that you were in sweats, a t-shirt, and slippers. You looked to Aaron taking note of his jeans and t-shirt. Casual looks good on him; you’d always thought so. You offered him a drink and invited him over to the couch, making yourselves comfortable and digging in. To the others, this may seem odd, a late-night taco date with your boss and your couch, but this was your normal.

You and Aaron had quickly realized your similarities when you first joined the team. You both had a stone exterior with a warm and fuzzy interior, you were closed off, but loyal and caring. These are the similarities that made your fast friendship so easy. The two of you hung out often, you had regular dinners together, went to movies or had movie nights, you went to the park with him and Jack, and sometimes…you even slept over. You didn’t share a bed or anything – except once when you first moved to your current apartment – your guest room hadn’t been set up yet. He was easily the person you were closest to, which is why it was terrifying to love him. You couldn’t lose him. So, you bottled up your feelings and enjoyed these moments with him.

“So, you’re feeling better then?”

You opened your mouth to reply when you felt it. That tightening lurch in your stomach. You brought your hand to cover your mouth and jumped up, desperate to get to your bathroom. You had barely made it before you were expelling your dinner into the porcelain bowl. You heaved until there was nothing left. It was only then that you felt the warmth of his hands brushing your hair back and rubbing circles over your spine. You slowly sat up and rested back against the bathtub, Aaron leaned against the counter.

“I guess it’s a good time to mention we have a mandated weekend off. I figured you were feeling better if you had ordered tacos.” Aaron teased.

“I was feeling better. And thank God. I could use the extra two days to get my shit together.” You laughed.

“What did the doctor say?” He questioned.

“Well, she uh…” You started.

“I shouldn’t have asked that, I’m sorry.” He apologized.

“No, Aaron it’s okay. I just – I found out that I’m pregnant.” You blurted.

“Oh, that’s – wow congrats. I didn’t realize you’d started seeing someone.” He muttered.

“Thanks, and I’m not. It was just some guy I met while we were in Alabama.” You grumbled.

With Aaron’s assistance, you made your way back to the couch, not before quickly brushing your teeth. After he saw that you were settled, he went to the kitchen and grabbed your anti-nausea pills, some crackers and a ginger ale for you.

The two of you sat and talked for hours, you told him about your doctor’s appointment and the phone call with Jensen. You expressed your excitement and nervousness, both of which he met with reassurance. Aaron was quick to tell you he thought you’d make a great mother and that he, along with the rest of the BAU, would be there for you every step of the way.

The night continued on with the two of you curled up on the couch watching movies, Aaron refilling your ginger ale as needed throughout the evening. Your position had shifted slightly the longer you sat there, you had laid down, your head resting on a pillow against Aaron’s thigh, his hand delicately running through your hair. You turned your head to look up at him, the movement drawing his gaze to you.

“Can I tell you something?” You asked.

“Anything.” He whispered.

“I’m scared to do this alone. I don’t want the kid to grow up and hate me because they don’t have a dad. Plus, I always thought when I had kids, I’d be settled…ya know?” You spoke softly.

“You’re not alone in this.” He replied.

“I know Aaron, that’s not what I meant.” you sighed.

“I could do it.”

“What?” You sat up abruptly, turning to look him in the eyes.

“I could raise the baby with you, I mean if you want. I just, I always wanted a big family, and Jack has asked about having a sibling on more than one occasion, plus we’re close already…” He rambled.

“You would do that for me?” You gasped.

“Of course I would, I’d do anything for you.” He smiled softly.

“So how would this work?” You questioned.

“It’s late, why don’t we head to bed, and we can talk logistics in the morning.” He said, patting your knee.

“Okay.” You smiled.

You woke up the next morning and had to remind yourself that last night was real, Aaron had in fact offered to raise your baby with you. You got out of bed and padded your way to the kitchen. Upon entering you were met with the sight of Aaron in his sweats and a T-shirt, gliding around your kitchen, making breakfast. This felt so domestic, and you couldn’t help the pain in your chest at the fact that this isn’t.

“Good morning!” You greeted.

“Good morning! How did you sleep?” He replied.

“I slept well thanks. You?”

“Pretty good actually. So, how are you feeling about my offer?” He queried.

“I’d like to take you up on it, as long as it’s still on the table. But I think we need to lay out some ground rules, or at least figure out how we would do this.” You explained.

“We’re doing this then! And I agree, we need to sort out all the details.” Aaron suggested.

Aaron and you talked about it a lot over the next few hours and had come to an agreement on nearly all subjects. Aaron would attend doctor’s appointments with you, the child would be raised by you and Aaron and for all intents and purposes, Aaron would be known as dad, when the kid is old enough, you agreed that honesty is crucial, and you’d explain that Aaron isn’t their biological dad. You had agreed on bringing the child up in a loving home and allowing your child to find their own way in religion and politics, neither of you fond of pushing either of those things on a kid. You had also agreed on the importance of education, family time, immunizations, etc.. There were a few things though, that you still weren’t sure of.

“So, Aaron, I guess I am just curious on how we would address a few things. Like with the team or anyone that asks – you’re the father? Or do we tell them there was a sperm donor? Are we honest about the situation? And what about us? Everyone is going to think we’re together. Also, the living situation, you mentioned you want to be around to help but going back and forth from my place to yours, it’s not fair to us or to Jack, what do we do?” You rattled on.

“Okay, slow down. I think with the team and family, we can tell them the truth…to anyone else, I’m the father. If that’s okay with you? For the living situation, I ugh well I was thinking, maybe we find a house? I know how crazy that sounds, but I would be closer to you to help out and Jack could be close to his sibling, at least for a while. It wouldn’t have to be permanent.” He let out a nervous chuckle. “As for us, I don’t want to complicate things sweetheart. I can’t say I’ve never thought about us…maybe we just take it day by day.” Aaron was trying to gauge your reaction.

“That all sounds perfect. We will take it day by day, see where this journey takes us.” You say, reaching to hold Aaron’s hand.

Aaron brings your hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss to the back of it. You can’t help the heat that rises to your cheeks. His admission of thinking of the two of you as more than friends, lingers in your mind. You wondered how long he’d been thinking like that but figured you could ask him another time. The bubble you were currently in was far too precious to burst.

“So, should we start house hunting?”

Aaron chucked at your excitement and nodded happily.

**15 weeks pregnant**

The two of you agreed to wait to tell the team, at least until you had settled into your roles as co-parents. You also wanted to wait until you had progressed further in your pregnancy before you shared the news with not only the team, but also Jack. You had expressed to Aaron that you were worried Jack wouldn’t take the news well and he had assured you that Jack would be thrilled with the prospect of having a sibling. Aaron had also informed you that Jack had asked if you could be his new mom once your friendship had grown.

Things had been going well, it had been almost two months since you guys had agreed to do this together and you couldn’t be happier. Aaron had gone to your appointments with you, and that’s where you were currently headed. You had your 15-week appointment today, you’d also be doing some tests to ensure the baby is healthy.

“Alright, did you guys want to find out the baby’s sex today?”

You looked over at Aaron, and he met you with a subtle nod of confirmation. You had discussed this on the way over today.

“Yes we would!”

“You are having a girl, congratulations!” The doctor smiled and made her leave.

Aaron was quick to lean down and embrace you. You were shedding tears of joy, beaming with excitement. He pressed a chaste kiss to your temple and pulled away.

“I wanted it to be a surprise, I scheduled a showing with our realtor. I think you’re really going to like this one!” Aaron gushed.

Aaron drove you over to the most adorable home, judging from the curb appeal, you were thinking his assumption was correct. He helped you out of the vehicle and led you into the home, your realtor was waiting for you just inside the foyer.

“Mr. and Mrs. Hotchner, welcome! Please take your time to look around, I will be in the kitchen if you need anything. Aaron, I am going to make a few calls and see what we’re looking at for this one.” Bradley informed.

The two of you agreed to act as a married couple when looking into homes, Aaron had suggested that newlyweds with a baby on the way might be more appealing to a seller. Though things between you definitely felt more like that was becoming your truth as opposed to this fantasy you’d act out when in the presence of Bradley.

Looking around, Aaron led you around the house, showing you each of the rooms on the first floor, then the second. You ended up in the master bedroom, making your way out on the balcony that overlooks the backyard.

“So, I was thinking, the two rooms downstairs, one would be my office, and the other could be a sort of den or library. Up here, Jack could have that first room, the second could be a nursery, and then the other two well they’d be ours, or one could be a guest room.” Aaron offered.

“If we made one a guest room, that would mean that we…we’d share this room? Aaron Hotchner are you suggesting that we share a room?” You teased.

“Maybe I am.” He declared.

You had been playing this game of cat and mouse for the last three weeks. It had started after you had kissed. It happened in the heat of the moment, the two of you were fighting over him subtly benching you from work, you had explained you were fine to which he admitted how important you were to him and that he couldn’t afford to lose you. Upon this revelation, you’d shared a passionate kiss. An action that you hadn’t discussed or repeated since then.

“Well, I think that could work.” You nudged him gently. “This house is perfect honey.”

“Should we go talk to Bradley?” He posed.

“I think so.”

**17 weeks pregnant**

“Can you come to my office please?” Aaron asked.

Naturally this caught the attention of the team. You could tell they were growing suspicious of you and Aaron. They used to make jokes about you guys dating all the time with how close you were, but now, taking time off together to go to doctor’s appointments and hushed conversations in his office. You were sure the team thought you two were together. And now, you guessed they weren’t exactly wrong.

“They are totally dating.” Emily insisted.

“No doubt about it. Last week they left early together on Thursday. I guess Hotch called Rossi and told him they wouldn’t be back, and Rossi said he could hear them giggling. He used those exact words.” Morgan explained.

“Hotch, giggling? No way!” JJ chimed in.

“When do you think they’ll finally come clean?” Emily wondered.

“Whenever they are ready, and none of you are going to push the issue.” Rossi declared.

The others grumbled in defeat as they returned to their tasks. Meanwhile, Aaron was informing you that Bradley had left him a voicemail, asking that the two of you return the call when you could.

“Hey Aaron, thanks for getting back to me. Listen I have good news, your offer went through. You guys got the house! I’ll email over some paperwork, and we will talk next steps soon.” Bradley rushed.

“Thank you Bradley, we appreciate it.” Aaron replied before hanging up the phone.

You shared a look before a cheerful squeal escaped your lips. You jumped into Aaron’s arms, hugging him tightly. He was quick to return it, rocking you back and forth gently.

“We got the house! I can’t believe it!”

“We did sweetheart! Do you want to come for dinner tonight, we can talk to Jack?” Aaron offered.

“That sounds great.”

You made your way back to your desk and caught the tail end of your team’s conversation. They had clearly been speculating about the nature of your relationship with Aaron, and after that little display in his office, you couldn’t blame them. You’d have to bring that up tonight, maybe it was time to come clean.

You were currently cooking dinner while Aaron helped Jack with his homework at the dining table. If this is the life you had to look forward to, you’d be a happy girl. You never felt more at home than when in the presence of the Hotchner boys. You finished up dinner and sent the boys to wash up while you set the table, they returned swiftly and the three of you began eating.

“Jack, bud, we have something we want to talk to you about.” Aaron began. “It’s pretty important and I’d really like you to let me tell you everything before you respond okay?”

“Okay.” Jack nodded, mouth full.

“You know how I’m having a baby right?” You gave him a moment to nod in reply.

“Well, that baby is going to be your little sister.” Aaron explained. “We are going to have this baby, and we’re all going to live together, in a new house. You’ll still go to the same school, but we will live in a house, all together instead of in the apartment.” Aaron concluded.

Jack’s eyes grew wide at the mass of information he’d just received. He glanced from you to Aaron and back to you once more. His mouth fell open, and he took a deep breath before speaking.

“So, does that mean you’re going to be my mom finally? Are you guys getting married? What does the house look like? Will I have to share a room with the baby? And where did the baby come from?” Jack rattled off.

“Oh, well sweetie this doesn’t necessarily mean…”

“Bud, go put your dish in the sink and change into your pjs. When you come back we will answer all of your questions.” Aaron instructed.

Jack shrugged and went first to the kitchen, then shuffled down the hall to change. Aaron knew it would take him a little bit, and he’d likely get distracted before returning, which meant he could talk to you about the first two of Jack’s questions.

“Sweetheart, if I am going to be the father of this baby, would you maybe consider being a mother to Jack? I know it is a lot, but with us living together and raising the baby together, it might make sense for me to formally adopt the baby and you to adopt Jack. That way we really could be a family. If anything happened to me, I would at least know that he’d have someone. He loves you so much and I love you, it just feels right, him wanting to call you mom.” Aaron blurted.

“Y – you love me?” You gasped.

Aaron blushed, having realized his slip up. “I do.”

“I love you too Aaron. And I would love for Jack to consider me his mom, I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about us all being a real family like that. As for the adoption, that sounds perfect, I’d have to call Jensen and judging how our first conversation went, it should be a non-issue.” You noted.

“We would just have to get the papers drawn up for you to adopt Jack, his mother signed away her rights when she left us.” Aaron stated.

You looked at him with a saddened expression. The thought of leaving Aaron and Jack breaks your heart, you can’t imagine how she did it so effortlessly. Aaron could see the hurt behind your gaze, and he brought his hand up to caress your cheek, drawing a heat with it.

“Can we go back to a few minutes ago when we both said “I love you” for the first time” Aaron chuckled.

You let out a giggle and nodded, leaning in to meet him halfway for a passionate kiss. The two of you have kissed before, but never like this. Kissing someone who you love and that loves you in return, well that is pure bliss.

“Eww!” Jack shrieks, covering his eyes.

The two of you share a laugh and pull away. Aaron begins clearing the table while you go to get Jack.

“Eww? Eww? Come here buddy! Let me give you a big smooch!” You laughed reaching for Jack.

His laughs rang through the apartment as you jokingly chased him around the living room. When you finally caught up to him, you wrapped your arms around him a pressed a dramatically loud kiss to his cheek. Jack feigned disgust and wiped his cheek off as Aaron entered the room, joining the two of you on the couch with a big smile on his face.

“Alright buddy, I want to answer some of your questions okay?”

“Okay dad.”

“So, let’s start with the house, you are going to have your own room. The house is big with a yard that we can practice soccer in and a pool for us to swim! You will get to see the house soon; we are going to move in just a few weeks.” Aaron explained.

“As for me bud, if you want to call me mom you absolutely can. We aren’t getting married just yet, but we are a family sweetie.” You gently ruffle his hair.

“Okay mom, but you didn’t answer my last question! Where do babies come from?”

Your heart soared at the name, but both you and Aaron choked at his question.

“Uh, we will talk about that when you’re a little older. Go get ready for bed.”

**26 weeks pregnant**

You were nearing week 26 of your pregnancy and you knew, beyond a doubt, that the entire team knew you were pregnant, you hadn’t really been hiding it other than some loose-fitting tops. None of them said anything, but they were all doing everything in their power to make sure you were comfortable, safe, and feeling well in the office and even more so in the field. 

On your last case, the whole team worked to keep you stuck in the local precinct as to avoid any potential harm. You knew they were just being protective, but your doctor said you were fine to continue field work for at least a few more weeks. You wanted to work while you still could, and you decided to talk to Aaron about finally coming clean to the team.

“Hey, can I talk to you really quick?” You asked, entering his office.

“Am I talking to you as your boss or as your significant other?” He questions.

“Both I guess? Aaron, I think we need to tell the team. They already know I’m pregnant, that I am sure of. But they are acting like I am made of glass, and I would really like to keep working while I still can.” You declared.

“Sweetheart I can’t say I am particularly upset about everyone being extra cautious for you. I want you safe, and they do too. But if you’re ready to tell them, then let’s tell them.” He admitted.

Aaron called the team to the round table so the two of you could come clean about everything. In the last 18 weeks, your lives had drastically changed for the better, and they’d only continue to do so, so it was only right that you have your BAU family involved and around for the joy to come.

“I called you all in here because we have some news we’d like to share with you all.” Aaron said, placing his hand on your shoulder.

You smiled up at him before continuing. “I am pregnant, as you all already seem to know…but that’s not all.” You and Aaron told the team about your relationship, the pregnancy and how it came to be, Aaron stepping in and being the father, the new house and how you moved in together, you told them everything.

The team met you with shocked expressions, before they bombarded you with congratulations, embraces, and some questions. They asked about Jack and his reaction, they asked about the baby’s biological father, and they asked if an engagement was coming soon.

You had explained that the adoption process had already begun for Aaron and the baby, that Jensen was more than willing to waive his parental rights. You’d also told them how Jack started calling you mom and you were planning to ask him if you could adopt him officially in a few weeks and Aaron said an engagement would occur soon enough as long as you’d have him.

To close out your family meeting, you’d politely asked everyone to remember that you were pregnant, not incompetent, and you would appreciate it if they would let you work like normal (mostly) for the last few weeks you’d be able to. They agreed with some apprehension as long as you’d be careful and let the others lead.

**33 weeks pregnant**

The team had travelled to Colorado for a case, you knew that this would be one of the last times you’d get to travel with the team, so you were going to give this case your all.

For the last month, Aaron had definitely broken his promise and was keeping you on a tight leash. You knew he was only protecting you, but you wanted to do your job. You were damn good at it, and you weren’t going to let anyone tell you otherwise.

“Alright, you are going to stay here and work on the geographical profile with Reid, and I am, going to the latest crime scene with Morgan.” Aaron stated.

“I’d like to go with Morgan actually. I think that my skills would be better suited that way.” You disputed, sending a glare Aaron’s way.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea…” Aaron started.

“Hotch. Let me do my job.”

“Okay go. Be careful, please.” Aaron pleaded.

Morgan drove you to the latest crime scene and you both looked around observing all of the evidence markers and trying to gather as much information as you could. The two of you were bouncing ideas off of one another when glass breaking sounded downstairs.

Morgan brought a finger to his lips signaling to be silent. You both raised your weapons and made your way to the landing. Morgan leaned around the corner to see if he could catch a glimpse of the intruder from the top of the stairs. When it came up empty, he motioned that he was going downstairs, silently telling you he’d let you know when it was safe to follow.

You didn’t move until Morgan signaled for you to do so. When he did, you carefully made your way downstairs. He went left and you went right, making your way through the first level of the home you noticed a broken lamp next to an open window in the living room.  Before you had a chance to react, a man grabbed you from behind, his arm wrapping around your throat and his gun pressed to your temple.

“Call out to your partner.” He hissed, pressing the gun further into your skin.

“Morgan, in the living room!” You called.

“Did you find someth-” Morgan trailed off, seeing the unsub holding you. “Woah, okay. We don’t want any trouble okay. You can let her go. We can get you whatever you want man.” Morgan offered.

“DON’T TRY TO PLAY GAMES WITH ME!” The unsub bellowed.

“We’re not – trying to play games with you. We just want everyone to leave here unharmed.” You tried to console the unsub.

“NO! LOOK AT HIM! HE’S GONNA TRY AND SHOOT ME THE SECOND I LET YOU GO! I’M NOT FUCKING STUPID!” The unsub cried.

You could tell he was devolving; he was young, intimidated and sick of being pushed around by men in positions of power. Most notably, his father.

“You’re right. He probably will try and shoot. He’s cocky like that. Always walking around like he’s a gift from God himself. Barking orders at his subordinates and making passes at any female employee. It makes me sick.” You played into his delusions.

“He treats you like that?” The unsub wavered.

“He does. And I can’t stand it! I am sick of being treated like I’m less than. Like I’m not good enough to be here! I deserve more, you deserve more. We are strong and capable, and we should be treated as such.” You continued to work this unsub while Morgan slowly moved into position.

“You’re right! If you can see that, why couldn’t he? Why couldn’t he see that I am enough!” The unsub sobbed, his hands dropping to his sides.

Morgan swooped in and handcuffed him after gently grabbing his gun from his hand. The unsub sobbed quietly, realizing the error of his ways. You moved to sit in a nearby chair and Morgan pulled out his phone to call for backup.

“Are you okay?” Aaron asked, rushing to your side. “This is exactly why I didn’t want you coming with Morgan.”

“Aaron, honey, I’m okay!” You reassured him.

“Hotch, your girl single handedly talked the guy off the ledge. She’s the reason we’re all safe.” Morgan explained.

Aaron looked at you once again. Taking in every part of your body to ensure you had no injuries. He gently takes your chin between his index finger and thumb to glance at your right temple, making a note of the slight bruise that’s developing there.

“I want you to get checked out before we go home.” Aaron informed.

“Okay.” You said, knowing arguing wouldn’t get you anywhere.

After spending far too long at the hospital, you were headed back to the hotel with a clean bill of health for both you and your baby girl. Aaron’s hands hadn’t left you since he’d rushed to your side at the crime scene. They were either holding your own, pressed to the small of your back, or resting on your leg. You knew he was just trying to ground himself in the fact that you were safe.

That night you and Aaron shared a conversation about you going on desk duty for the next few weeks, before your maternity leave started. He was a bit shocked that you didn’t fight him on it…not even a little bit.

**39 weeks pregnant**

You had been on maternity leave for all of five days and you were already out of your mind. The only thing you were grateful for was the fact that you got to spend so much time with Jack.

Your adoption of him had been finalized two weeks ago and everything was done regarding Aaron adopting the baby. Now, you were just awaiting the arrival of your daughter. You were more than ready for her to be here and out of your body, and while the pregnancy hadn’t been particularly difficult, you were exhausted and bloated and just ready to be done.

You were in the kitchen making lunch for Jack and you while he played in the living room. He’d requested a grilled cheese sandwich with some tomato soup. You had just flipped the sandwich when a contraction hit. The pain washed over you, radiating down your spine and through your pelvis. You took a deep breath and check the time, they were about fifteen minutes apart right now, the contractions kept you up all night and had been consistent all day.

“Okay bud, lunch is served!” You set his food down in front of him on the coffee table.

“Thanks mom!” He smiled, taking a big bite of grilled cheese.

“You’re welco-” a sharp hiss escaped your mouth.

Checking the clock again you realize it’s only been about five minutes since the last one. You take a few deep breaths and look around for your phone, it might be time to text Aaron.

“Mom, are you okay?” Jack asked.

“Yeah bub I’m okay. I think your sister is getting ready to come.” You explained.

“Really? I can’t wait to meet her!” Jack cheered, resting one of his hands on your swollen belly.

“I can’t wait either. Jack, could you uh – could you go grab my phone hon?” You requested.

“Okay!” He wandered over to the kitchen to grab your phone.

You felt another contraction coming on and realized that they were coming one after another in shorter bursts of times. You needed to get to the hospital.

Jack returned from the kitchen with your phone and handed it to you. You were quick to dial Aaron’s number.  It rang three times before he picked up.

“Hey sweetheart. Is everything okay?” He questioned.

“Yeah honey, it – it’s time. She’s coming.”

“Now? How far apart are your contractions? Did your water break? Are you in pain? Should I call an ambulance to come and take you to the hospital?” Aaron rattled off question after question.

“Aaron, baby, contractions are three minutes apart now, my water hasn’t broken, I’m not in too much pain, and please don’t call an ambulance. I will drive myself and Jack to the hospital. Meet us there.”

“I will sweetheart. The go bag is on the floor of the closet, on the right side. And the car seat has already been installed. I am leaving right now.” Aaron promised.

“Okay! See you soon.”

**36 weeks pregnant**

“Mrs. Hotchner, can we go swimming?” Henry asked.

“Of course, bud, you boys go get your swim trunks on and I will get Nora changed. Okay?” You looked at the three boys for confirmation.

After they all shouted okay, they ran to Jack’s room and the bathroom to change, you walked with Nora upstairs to help her change into her swimsuit.

“Alright bug, pink or green?” You asked her.

“No. Blue momma, blue!” Nora demanded.

“Okay bug, blue suit.” You agreed.

You got Nora changed and brought her into your room, before you changed into your own bathing suit in the on-suite bathroom. When you exited, you grabbed Nora and then made sure the boys were all ready and that they had put on sunscreen. The five of you made your way outside, the boys were quick to jump straight into the pool, and you made sure to put on Nora’s swimming vest.

Aaron stepped away from the grill and wrapped his arms around your waist. He placed a sweet kiss on your shoulder before leaning down and kissing Nora’s head. He went back to the grill and got it cleaned and ready for the burgers you were making tonight.

“JJ texted and said her and Will were on their way. She said to thank you again for picking the boys up from school.” Aaron let you know.

“She doesn’t need to thank me.” You scoffed. “The boys all go to the same school and with me on maternity leave, I have nothing better to do.” You laughed.

“I’m excited to see the team, it’s been so long since we’ve all been together.” Aaron sighed, slipping into the pool with you.

“I know honey. We’ve all just been so busy…that’s why it’s taken this long for us to do this reveal” You hugged him. “Do you regret taking the promotion?”

“Not for even a second. It has allowed me more time with you and the kids. I got to see almost all of Nora’s milestones, and I am so excited for this little one to join us here soon.” Aaron said caressing your belly once more.

“I can’t wait either.” You smiled.

One by one the team began filing in through the back gate. Derek and Savanah had come in with Hank. JJ and Will had come in and were quick to greet their sons. Emily, Spencer and Penelope arrived all at once saying their hellos and quickly getting into the pool. And Rossi arrived last, he set the cake and wine in the kitchen and made himself comfortable in the lounge chairs on the deck.

Time passed in slow motion, you made conversation with those around you and ate dinner (Aaron and Derek standing over the grill drinking beer…they were arguing over how long to cook the burgers). Everyone got out of the pool and as the adults sat on the lounge chairs, the kids ran around in the yard, playing soccer.

“Are you guys ready?” Dave asked

After you and Aaron nodded, Dave went to grab the cake. You called everyone over to the table and let them know that you chose to reveal the gender this way because you didn’t want some big flashy party, but rather to be surrounded by loved ones.

“So, there’s one other announcement I’d like to make before we do the gender reveal.” You began. “I will not be returning to the BAU after the birth.”

A chorus of “what do you mean” and “why” and “that’s not funny” rang out around you. This was something that you’d been at war with yourself over for the entirety of this pregnancy. Aaron taking the promotion to a director position, it had shockingly allowed him more time with your family, and it provided a safety that his previous position had hindered. It was a culmination of those facts that led you to your decision.

“What does this mean though? What are you going to do?” Spencer was the one to ask.

“I’m going to teach.” You smiled. “I was offered a position, within the FBI, to teach. You guys will still get to see me, and we will still host everyone, but the hours are better, and they’ll allow me more time at home.”

The team exchanged solemn expressions, but ultimately wished you well. They let you know that they’d miss you and the team wouldn’t be the same without you, but they understood.

“Okay! Sorry. Onto a much happier topic – the gender reveal of our baby!” You exclaimed.

Aaron and you each took a wine glass and held them upside down over opposite edges of the cake. The team counted down 3…2…1…and you and Aaron plunged the glasses into the cake. You each brought the glasses up and held them out in front of you, confusion etched on the faces of those standing before you.

“OH MY GOD! It’s twins! It’s twins isn’t it!” Penelope shouted with glee.

In front of you, enclosed in the wine glass were layers of chocolate cake intermixed with blue frosting. And in front of Aaron was a glass housing chocolate cake with pink frosting. The two of you shared a look, one that held nothing but love and adoration for one another and the beautiful life you’ve built with one another. You loved each other more than anything and your growing family was proof of that, Jack and Nora had been thrilled that they’d be getting both a little brother and sister, and in just a few short weeks, they’d make their debut.

[midnightwriter21]

demon slayer hcs: the hashira men having a demon!SO that’s immune to sunlight pt.1

characters: fem!reader x rengoku, giyuu

PT 2 with Sanemi HERE

AN: the long awaited request is finally here!! sorry for the delay! im in college and finals week was crazy! but the semester is over and i'm ready to get back to it with a bunch of new content for you guys! <3

RENGOKU

when he comes home from a mission to find the house completely trashed and a trail of blood leading to the bedroom he freezes

his first thought is that you're dead

someone or something has broken in

and he wasn't here to protect you

immediately blames himself

and poor kyo just can't force himself to walk in the bedroom only to discover your broken bleeding body

his heart couldn't take it

its not until he hears movement and small noises of pain that he pushes the bedroom door open

only to discover you hiding in the corner of the room covered with a blanket

relief

until he pulls the blanket from your head to see what you've turned into

he doesn't react

doesn't talk

doesn't move

doesn't even breathe

just stares at you

until you manage to croak out his name

this snaps his mind into high gear

immediately thoughts of the young Kamado girl are running through his head

she has never hurt a human and seems to do just fine

and if you were going to harm him you would have done it already

quickly pulls you into his arms, making sure to avoid the sunlight peaking through the curtains and carries you to the bed to set you down

scribbles a note to the head of the corps to inform him of your condition

and spends the rest of the day and that night comforting and reassuring you because of what had to have been a traumatic night

a week or so passes

you fall back into your old routine of caring for the house

and its quite obvious that you're becoming depressed

no longer able to enjoy the warmth of the sun and being cooped up in the house for your own safety

it isnt until a young man wearing the head of a boar bursts headfirst through the window

breaking the glass, ripping down the curtains

with a "comin through!"

that you realize the sunlight doesn't harm you like it does to other demons

leave it to inosuke lmao

when kyo returns home from another mission around noon

imagine his surprise when his demon SO bursts through the front door into the sun

and into his arms

takes a minute for him to process that you're not burning up

"oh my god we have to get you inside NOW"

the poor man is having a heartattack

but then he sees your smile and hears your laugh for the first time since the attack

finally he's able to realize that the sun has no effect on you

and he's picking you up and swinging you around in a giant hug

i just know he gives the best hugs

i'd let him crush me to death in one

of course kyo is still sometimes crushed with guilt

he blames himself for your transformation in the first place

but the most important thing is that you're safe and happy again

GIYUU

why can't this man ever just be happy

when you don't show up at your usual meeting place with Giyuu in between missions he knows somethings up

he rushes to your home

and there you are

sitting on the steps in front of your house

covered in blood and in tears

it isn't until he gets closer that he realizes what has happened

he has no words

everyone that giyuu has ever loved has been taken from him

and he allowed himself to love you

thats why this has happened

blames himself even though it obviously not his fault

still not speaking he looks at the sky to see the sun

and then back at you

a demon

who isn't affected by the sunlight in the slightest

and isn't attacking him

and then he disappears

when he returns several hours later it's dark outside

and with him he's brought Shinobu and the Kamado siblings

one of which is a demon

Shinobu checks you over and determines that the blood you are covered in is indeed yours

but any wounds you had have already healed

Nezuko senses what you are but seems to know that you're docile and snuggles up to your side as a comfort

and Giyuu just watches quietly

when Nezuko has fallen asleep her brother picks her up giving you a sad smile before he leaves

Giyuu helps you stand and brings you inside

he runs a bath so you can clean urself off

and goes about cleaning the house which was destroyed during your attack

it isn't until you're in bed that Giyuu lays behind you, tugs you close to him, and speaks to you for the first time

"i am staying with you. and i WILL turn you back."

and those two sentences bring you all the comfort in the world

[bluexiao]

#“why don’t you get yourself comfortable? yes, on my lap, babe.”

–when you like sitting on their lap… and them sitting on yours | a request

CHARACTERS. Xiao, Wanderer / Scaramouche, Albedo (and) Pantalone, Kaeya, Diluc, Childe / Tartaglia; gn! Reader

THEMES. fluff. some crack? but mostly fluff and domestic. established relationship || soft xiao i’m telling yall i’m going feral. mention of reader being tipsy on kaeya’s part.

NOTES. this is originally from a request BUT THEN @ineshapanda suddenly had a BRILLIANT idea to add to this request and boom here ya go.

–them sitting on your lap

XIAO, plagued by his karma, is a Xiao that you had known for a long time. Actually, it's a Xiao that you had always been afraid of—not because of the same fears he has, but because of them—because of the fear that he has of hurting you. For with that gear comes his distance—and that is what you dread the most, to be left by him.

“Please… don’t leave.” So when you had him on your lap that one night he had an attack of his karma, and your fears vanished.

You had to lean away from his embrace ever so slightly to look into his eyes. “I won’t,” you say, hugging him tighter than you ever did—or he even let you.

And since then, you’d know that Xiao would be needing your comfort whenever find him close to your lap, or on his way crawling to them, reading to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you closer to him—a silent oath of never letting go.

WANDERER would never ever ever admit it (even to himself), but he likes your touch. Everything you do, whatever it is. And of course, it included him being on your lap.

The first time it had happened, you were just teasing him, effectively placing your hand around his waist and pulling him down with you on the bed, giggling all by yourself, and as you had begun to realize that he was silent the entire time, you were about to apologize, thinking that he was probably overly embarrassed and uncomfortable when–

“Oh?” you raise a brow at the frozen man on your lap. And he was… blushing.

“What? What’s wrong, Scara?” the words slipped out of your mouth before his reaction even processed in your mind. And when it did, he was already pushing himself off of your lap with a huff, arms crossed on his chest (too tightly at that), face painted red.

“No! Of course not!” he has this frown that looks almost like a pout–and that was when you knew that he was lying.

ALBEDO would usually be the one who ends up being busy with his work. Though this time, it was the other way around as you find yourself buried in your paperwork, stealing the time with your lover that you promised him.

“I’m really sorry, ‘bedo. I can’t let this go on until tomorrow or the Knights would kill me–at least… Jean would,” you shivered at the thought. You turn to look at Albedo only to feel his presence behind you, and soon on your lap.

“W-wha-?” you instinctively brought your hands on his sides, probably unconsciously thinking he might fall or something, only for him to nonchalantly give you a smile, responding with “No need to worry about me, I am beyond comfortable where I am.”

Ever since that day, you’d find Albedo sitting so casually on your lap as if it was the most normal thing to do.

And you know what? You never found the courage to ask him why. Well, it’s not like he’d give a concise answer other than the fact that he wanted to try it out… and he liked it.

–you sitting on their lap

PANTALONE is a busy, busy man. With this, he often would tell you not to wait on him usually, or that you could visit him in his office anytime you’d like. This day is apparently one of the days.

“This would take a while, darling, why don’t you get yourself comfortable?” he opens his arms and you step forward and climb on his lap without any other word.

He’d wrap an arm around your waist as his other one busies itself with his paperwork. He’d never remove his arm or hand from you, even if he does not talk to you with how much focus he has on his work at the moment. Though each time you would try to wiggle out the stiffness off of you, moving even a single bit, he’d notice and let you do anything you’d like. Except for moving out of his lap.

If you try to, however, he’d coax you into going back. And he’d be successful each time.

KAEYA loves to tease you. And so, you hid this desire of yours for months—heck, you could’ve lasted for more if it weren’t for that one time you had gotten tipsy.

Ah, he definitely has gotten a lot of information about you that you had purposely left out because you were too shy to tell him. And this for one is one of them.

“Whoa, whoa, you two get a room please,” the bard immediately holds his hands up once he reached the table on the far end of the bar, seeing Kaeya with a very tipsy you on his lap. And for anyone who would have seen the scene in front of them (unfortunately, like Venti did), they would’ve thought that the two of you were being… intimate. But really, it was just you cuddling him, giving him a chance to find out that “I had always wanted to do this for a long time,” according to your own words.

Your secret is not so much of a secret right now, but he definitely will make it seem like he does not know about it but would act as he does with how many times he’d pull you over to plop on his lap, urging you to stay there for a little while.

At first, it was all a ruse to “tease” DILUC, in hopes that you’d eventually catch his attention. But then, it will not be long until you find out that you actually… liked it. His warmth, the scent of his strong yet not too overwhelming perfume (that you had sent as a gift not too long ago), and the feeling of his hand on the dimple of your back, always be sure that you wouldn’t fall off of his lap anytime soon.

Most of the time, Diluc would just find you fast asleep on his lap, head leaned on his shoulder or his chest after a long time of doing nothing but watching him fill up and sign papers on his desk. He’d have this smile on his lips before giving you a quick kiss on your forehead and soon carry you gently to a place comfier than where you were.

But honestly, if you were asked, you were already content with where you are at the moment than anywhere else.

CHILDE is a naturally clingy guy. So it was not long until you found yourself sat comfortably on his lap, either when he was working in his office, or when you two were just cuddling, ridding yourselves of the coldness of Snezhanaya.

“You like sitting on my lap, babe, don’t you?” he’d raise a brow at you.

“What do you mean? You’re the one who likes it when I sit on your lap, mister.”

You were about to send him a glare only to feel his hands on your sides, and soon, he will have you laughing your ass off, his fingers trailing along your waist and anywhere else you felt particularly ticklish, saying that he won’t stop tickling you until you admit defeat.

(Trust me, if you successfully overpower him and know where his ticklish parts are, you would win)

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated<3

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[eoieopda]

tidal.

but vernon has a point to make, so that’s precisely what he does: “i don’t need a sales pitch. you will never — ever — have to convince me to fuck you.” 

pairing: vernon x afab!reader type: one-shot (fluff n’ smut) au: est. relationship wc: 4.8k rating: 18+ a/n: i didn’t plan this whatsoever, but i felt so weirdly compelled to write it that i avoided eye-contact with all of my wips, and now… here we are, lol. cw: pov switch, reader is afab + on their period, gender identity + pronouns aren’t designated, blood mention (obvi), unprotected p in v penetration (ill-advised!!), wee bit of dry-humping (ig?), a lil massage, pet names (baby, sweetheart), self-indulgent ref to a favorite docu of mine, and lastly — vernon (yes, this is a warning 🧍🏻) 🔞 MINORS WHO INTERACT WITH ME AND/OR MY CONTENT WILL BE BLOCKED, WHETHER OR NOT THE CONTENT IS NSFW. I’M AN ADULT WRITING EXCLUSIVELY FOR OTHER ADULTS.

Vernon isn’t blind. 

He can see you out of the corner of his eye, laying flat on your back, several unexplained centimeters away from his side. With the duvet clenched in your fists, you stare intently up at the ceiling, like you’re waiting for it to move — or trying to move it yourself, telekinetically. You keep your bottom lip pinched between your teeth, as if you expect it to make a run for it.

So, yes, Vernon can see you. 

He just can’t figure out what’s wrong with you.

For a few minutes, he attempts to pay attention to the documentary lighting up the screen on the wall ahead. You were the one that picked it — some wild tale about mother-daughter recluses in New York — and he finds it hard to give a shit about it without your usual commentary. Your hot takes are his favorite part of any movie night, after all.

He’ll be the first to admit that he’s never been good at keeping his eyes off you. Try as he might, he can’t glue his gaze to the television; each glance in your direction sticks longer than the one before it, testing the waters. Minutes slip away just like this until he completely caves, turns his head fully, and stares at you outright. 

You still don’t seem to notice.

His brow scrunches up as he watches you, caught in the middle between concerned, confused, and amused by how absolutely ridiculous you look right now. When he speaks, he tries to sound stern, like he isn’t fighting the urge to laugh.

“Baby?”

“Hmm?” is all he gets in response. 

You don’t even look his way. If anything, you tense harder now that his attention is on you. 

None of it makes sense. Not the weird gap you’ve left between your body and his, your total refusal to look him in the eye, or the fact that there wasn’t an argument to precipitate any of this distance. It’s a symptom with no apparent cause, and it’s totally baffling. Brain-breaking, even.

Frowning, Vernon scoots himself across the bed to get closer to you. 

You don’t reciprocate. 

He tugs gently at the hem of your sweatshirt in a silent plea for your attention and receives radio silence in response; unless he counts the way you swallow thickly.

Which, for the record, he does not.

This close, Vernon can feel the anxious energy pulsing out of your tensed-up body in waves, so he leans away and props himself up on his elbow. Desperate to know what broke you and how to fix it, he mutters, “What is happening right now?”

Ope. 

It comes out harsher than it was supposed to, reading more like annoyance than worry, so he immediately clears his throat. Gently and with a brush of his knuckles against your hip bone, he tries again: “Are you okay? Did I do something to make you mad at me?”

A fly on the wall might get the wrong impression and think he stroked you with a live wire instead.

“Oh, my god. No!” You sputter with a jolt, shifting gears quickly from vaguely on-edge to horrified. You shake your head so frantically that Vernon fears you’ll detach it. “No, you haven’t done anything. I’m fine, I just —”

He interjects with a laugh, “— I don’t necessarily believe that —”

Visibly cringing with every muscle in your body, you cover your face with your hands. Not long after you take a deep breath does a meek voice slip out through your fingers, sounding beyond embarrassed.

“I’m so incomprehensibly horny right now that I can’t even look at you.”

For a second, it’s dead silent because he can’t quite process how much of a weirdo you are, or how completely and hopelessly enamored he is with you. But then the dam breaks. His laugh comes out so forcefully that you pull your hands away from your face, eyes wide.

“Is that so?” He smirks, nodding his head towards the television. “Grey Gardens really gets your motor running, huh?”

Absolutely aghast, you swat at his bicep. Then, you sling your arm over your eyes and groan, “I got my period. It has turned me into a sex-crazed monster, I fear.”

Vernon nods in understanding, even though you can’t see it, and hums, “Ahh.”

And he leaves it at that, only because you seem to have more that you want to say. Something you want to ask, maybe, or a reason you may want to give for not jumping his bones at the first opportunity. He’s down, he thinks without hesitation, so long as you are.

But you don’t say anything.

Maybe you aren’t actually down after all, and that’s why you won’t look at him. Shit, are you embarrassed? Should I say something? Silence falls overtop like a weighted blanket, smothering the two idiots who can’t tell whose turn it is to talk. 

Do you or do you not want this right now?

You mumble something that he can’t catch, so he nudges your side gently with his knuckles to encourage you. Just as nervous, you repeat yourself without looking at him, “Period sex is supposed to help with cramps, I think.”

He thinks he’s read the exact same article you have. More than that, he wishes you’d look over at him and see for yourself how completely unbothered he is by this concept.

“If you think about it, it’s kind of like a natural lubricant,” you add in a voice that’s even smaller than before.

Your shyness really might kill him, so he reaches over to grab your hand and gently pull your arm away from your eyes. It’s the first time you’ve looked at him since you laid down — since you put your self-imposed no-contact order in place — and he feels his stupid heart swell.

For what it’s worth, he feels his dick twitch, too.

You open your mouth to speak again, likely to continue your unnecessary campaigning; Vernon is having none of it. He tugs your wrist just enough to tilt you inward, then he kisses you hard enough to shut you up. A tiny whimper slips out of your lips when he pulls away, and it almost makes him regret his decision to do so. 

But Vernon has a point to make, so that’s precisely what he does: “I don’t need a sales pitch. You will never — ever —  have to convince me to fuck you.” 

Your eyes crinkle at the corners, like this is somehow news to you. It shouldn’t be. He’s told you a thousand times in as many different ways how thoroughly crazy you drive him just by existing so closely to him, but maybe you didn’t take him seriously then.

To emphasize his point, he slips his hand under the hem of your sweatshirt and finds your bare waist with the pad of his thumb. It spirals slowly against your warm skin, making both of you dizzy. Then, sick of the distance, Vernon dips his head down to press a kiss to your temple. 

“Like, ever,” he murmurs, lips following the curve of your jaw. 

Soft, slow kisses trail behind him as he travels down to your lips. Your head tilts further backwards with every single one, providing him with more and more access. 

He states it matter-of-factly because, to him, it is. “I’m down so bad for you that it might be terminal.”

“Oh?” 

You try to laugh but turn to putty when his palm rests fully on the curve of your waist and pulls you flush against him. The surprised gasp you let loose confirms his suspicion: You can feel how serious he is, affirmation throbbing against your abdomen in time with his heartbeat. 

Vernon smirks to himself, relishing your reaction, and bypasses your mouth entirely. A moan escapes from you, soft like an exhale, as his lips move slowly down the length of your neck. Every so often — just to feel you shiver — he flicks the tip of his tongue along the delicate skin he finds there.

“It might be messy…” 

The rest of your needless warning gets lost in a dreamy sigh as he suckles at the spot where your neck meets your shoulder. Shifting even closer, your desperate fingers reach out and cling to his t-shirt.

Vernon licks a stripe over the galaxy blooming on your skin. He hums, hand traveling upwards from your waist, “Don’t care about a mess.”

And he means it. 

Mindful of any soreness, he smooths his hand over your left breast and massages it tenderly, swearing to himself that he’ll throw the whole fucking mattress out if that’s what it comes down to. For you, he’ll race across town on foot to buy another one, and — fuck it — if the store is closed, he might just break in.

You’re growing impatient; your fingers let go of his shirt and tangle themselves in his hair.

“So needy,” he chuckles low in his chest, teasing. “You know, I think you’re lying. I think it is this bat-shit insane documentary that’s driving you wild, and you’re too embarrassed to admit it.”

“Stop,” you whine, dragging out the vowel sound. 

You don’t, though; you throw your left leg over his right thigh and shimmy forward until your cunt grazes his dick. Involuntarily, he groans at the warmth radiating off your core. Every part of you drives him just the slightest bit insane. You seem to know it, he thinks as he watches your pupils dilate in real time.

But he can play games, too, so he rolls his hips forward and grinds against you. He pushes you further, “Don’t get me wrong, baby. I’m not kink-shaming you —”

“Hansol Vernon Chwe!”

Oh, shit. Government name?

“— I’m just a little surprised, I guess.” He sighs with a shrug. “Think you know somebody…”

Your impatience is scribbled all across your scrunched up face. It seeps into your voice when you crash back against the pillows and huff, “Can you please stop fucking with me and start fucking me?”

“Sex-crazed monster, huh?” Leaning over, Vernon punctuates his question with a quick press of his lips to yours.

You whimper, “I’m so serious. I might explode.”

“Then go take care of whatever you need to take care of.” He kisses you again, smiling so fondly that his eyes may even be twinkling. “And I’ll go get a towel.”

You wait until Vernon clears the threshold before launching yourself out of bed at breakneck speed. Stumbling all the while, you race off to the adjoining bathroom and shut the door forcefully behind you. When it clatters against the frame, you finally admit to yourself that you might be a little bit eager.

Maybe.

Opting to keep your baggy, bleach-stained sweatshirt on, you wiggle out of your shorts and — what he refers to as — your crisis diaper. The high-waisted, frumpy, beige panties are utilized exclusively during your period, and to your surprise, they’ve remained spotless. It’s only ever the pretty and expensive pairs that wind up as collateral damage, isn’t it?

As they pool around your ankles, you can’t help but think that Vernon’s nickname for them is pretty spot on. That’s partly why you figured he might need to be talked into this. Unsated arousal aside, you feel as far from sexy as you can possibly get.

You shake your head to clear your thoughts, kick what you’ve discarded into a pile near the hamper, and let your sweatshirt shift down to cover as much of your ass as it’s capable of managing. You grab a square of toilet paper; then, you go to work excavating the wad of cotton that separates you from everything you want in this life. 

It is within the realm of possibility that you’re a little bit eager and a little bit dramatic. 

Perhaps.

After discarding the evidence in the small trash can under the sink, you wash your hands as if you’re about to step into an operating theater and not the bedroom you spend half your life in. When you finally feel sterile, you lift your head and catch your reflection in the mirror. Instantly, you make eye contact with the painful, hormonal pimple on your chin — the one you’ve been waging a retinoid war against for days.

“Bitch,” you mutter, like calling it names will be the one thing that finally gets it to shrink. Of course, your plan doesn’t work, but you feel a little less powerless. That’s good enough, you think. At least, as good as it’s going to get.

Now half-naked and certifiably unobstructed, you tiptoe back to your bedroom much more carefully than you left it. Vernon enters from the opposite doorway at the same time, jumping slightly the second he notices you. You ignore his frightened eyes and glance down at the crisp, white towel he’s clutching.

You open your mouth to suggest anything otherwise, but he beats you to it. His eyebrows shoot up his forehead as his mouth widens outwards, a self-aware rectangle. Otherwise expressionless, he lets go of an atonal, “Aaaaaaah”, that tells you he’s caught on.

He says nothing else before turning around and walking back the way he came. You have to bite down on your lips to keep from cackling.

That one’s mine, you think, still as infatuated as you were at the start. I chose that one.

While he’s gone, you try not to move, not to breathe too heavily. Vernon said he didn’t care about a mess, but when he said it, he was speaking theoretically with his hand on your tit. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d spoken recklessly with your body melting under his touch.

As far as you know, he hasn’t had any experience with this mess in practice. He could wind up finding you about as sexy as you currently feel — to wit: not at all. So, erring on the side of caution, you turn yourself into a statue and wait for the boy and his towel to find you again.

When he comes back, he plants a drive-by kiss on your unsuspecting mouth before skirting right around you. With shocking finesse, he grabs the corners of the — thankfully — black towel, which unfurls in the seconds before he flicks it upwards. It lands perfectly in the center of the bed, flat without needing to be fussed with.

“Wow,” he mutters to himself, taking in his clean work with raised eyebrows.

The impressed look is still on his face when he turns around, but you don’t have time to comment on his feat because he laughs as soon as he sees you.

“Kinda look like Donald Duck with the whole top-on, bottom-off situation.”

I chose this one?

You pout with an indignant gasp, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m not wearing a sailor hat, so…. bad analogy. Rude, even.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs as he snakes his arms around your waist and pulls you in close. You stumble a little on your way into him; the jury’s still out about whether it’s his hushed tone or the sudden movement that trips you up.

Between his thumb and index finger, he gently captures your chin. You follow along with his unspoken direction, tilt your face up to meet his. This close, you can see your own reflection in his pupils, black dilating against the warmest shade of brown you’ve ever seen.

Vernon takes a moment of silence as he takes in your features, and he studies them so intently that his eyebrows crinkle on their own. He sighs, sounding so completely serious. “You might get prettier every time I look at you.”

It’s unclear if you’re melting, or gushing; and if it’s the latter, you can’t say which biological process is at fault. Thankfully, the hand at the small of your back keeps your weak knees from buckling when his lips brush over yours.

“Even if you’re dressed like Winnie the Pooh.” 

You feel him smirk even before you hear him laugh at his own joke. Then, you feel his hand slide down to cup your bare cheek, squeezing affectionately. You want to tell him that this analogy is still inaccurate because you’re not wearing a crop-top; but he gently instructs you to ditch the sweatshirt and get on the bed, and your body moves automatically. No questions asked.

Carefully, you crawl up onto the mattress, then you center yourself on the towel. Still on your knees, you tilt your head curiously and ask, “Where do you want me?”

“Anywhere,” he breezes, pulling his shirt off and tossing it onto the dresser nearby. He amends, “Everywhere. All the time, and then some.”

“Better be careful,” you tease. “Talking like that might have consequences. You may never be able to get rid of me.”

His joggers are the next to go. Your sanity follows shortly thereafter, hungry eyes lingering on the imprint of his cock underneath his boxer briefs. You have to clamp your mouth shut to keep from drooling.

Brown eyes sparkling, he steps closer to you, kicking his pants aside as he goes. “Be careful,” he echoes, not a hint of cockiness to be found — just softness. “Saying it like a threat doesn’t make me wish it’s not a promise.”

I choose this one.

Crossing all the way to you, Vernon reaches the bed and climbs up with significantly more grace than you did. The mattress dips under his weight as he kneels right in front of you, mirroring your posture and causing your stomach to flip with anticipation.

You can’t help yourself; you lick your lips and look up at him with half-lidded eyes. “Naked, please. Like, right now.”

“Damn, I gotta do this myself?” Incredulous, he holds his hands up while glancing pointedly down at his underwear, then back at you. 

You arch an eyebrow, unfazed. 

“Depends.” You shrug. “Do you want to keep them? Because I really will rip them off of you.”

He concedes quickly; he always does. Sighing, he shakes his head and tuts, “Sex-crazed monster,” before pushing his briefs down his thighs. His length hangs heavy between you, but you swear you can feel its perfect ache inside you already.

You have a one-track mind, so you don’t hesitate to reach out and wrap your hand around him. A groan crawls up from the bottom of your chest when you feel the weighted warmth of his cock in your palm. You don’t hold that back, either.

“Fuck,” he sighs, head tilting as far backwards as it’ll go. Unexpectedly, he laughs. He doesn’t catch the quizzical look you shoot him, though he explains himself anyway, “Your hands are so fucking cold, but it feels so good.”

Swiping your thumb over his tip, you spread the pre-cum you find there down his shaft and stroke him slowly. He grows harder with every gentle squeeze, every pass of your fist. 

“We’re learning a lot of new shit about each other today.” You lean forward to pepper kisses across his collarbones. The hum of your mouth against his skin when you talk makes his cock twitch in your hand. “You might have a temperature kink and a thing for Winnie the Pooh.”

He snorts, nowhere near serious, “Shut the fuck up.”

“Make me,” you counter smugly, and you do mean it.

Vernon tilts his head forward to stare back at you. You’re already turning into a puddle, but if the look he gives you says anything, it’s that your melting isn’t enough for him. His voice is low and velvet-lined when he responds, “How about I just make you cum instead?”

“That could work, yeah.” You shrug.

He runs the pads of his fingers down each side of your waist to your hips, then back again; and each time he does it, you shiver. Reflexively, your back arches, chest pressing against his.

At this, he smirks, “It could? Maybe?”

“We can workshop it.”

“Or,” Vernon so generously offers, “You can turn around and lay down on your stomach. You know, if that’s sufficient.”

It’s not until you whip around and flop down onto the towel that you realize you never responded with words. Oh well. You figure he gets the point, judging by the quiet laughter you hear as he settles with his knees on either side of your upper thighs.

You don’t know what his next move will be — you don’t care, either, as long as he moves in your direction — so you don’t anticipate his palms flattening against your bare back, applying perfect pressure with his thumbs while he rubs away the soreness at the very base of your torso.

“Oh, shit,” you moan, eyes fluttering shut as the heels of his hands work out the tension in your muscles. “Have you always been good at this?”

You feel his chest brush against your shoulder blades when he hovers over you. Against the nape of your neck, he murmurs, “Nope.”

He kisses down your spine, mouth trailing after his hands as they work their way back down your body.

“Lemme guess — you read an article? Studied up?”

You get a snicker, then an affirmative hum, then another kiss. This time, it’s at the curve of your spine, just above your ass. Seconds later, he’s kneading the doughy flesh of your cheeks until your whole fucking body tingles.

That’s when it hits you:

Under normal circumstances, Vernon would be face-first in your pussy by now. Devouring you in earnest, like he’s starving. He can’t do that now — and you don’t blame him — so he’s making up for what you both view as a loss.

God, you want him.

One hand disappears from you, but you don’t have to guess where it went. You can hear the barely-there hiss of breath through his teeth when he takes his cock in that hand; as well as the very faint shift of his palm while he pumps himself.

“You’re gonna have to navigate, baby. I dunno how sensitive you are like this, what’s too much — any of that, so you need to tell me how you want me to move.”

Suddenly dizzy over how badly you need him, all you can muster is a nod. Vernon must want a verbal acknowledgment, though, because he leans back over you with one hand bearing his weight beside your head.

He kisses your shoulder and urges you, “Please say so if you need to stop or switch it up. Don’t wanna hurt you, sweetheart.”

“I will,” you breathe. “But I can’t even articulate how much I need you inside of me right now, so please — pretty please — fuck me.”

The tip of his nose bumps your temple affectionately. Right beside your ear, he teases, “With a cherry on top?” And it vibrates down your whole goddamn spine.

“Vernon!” You whine, burying your face in the comforter. It’s muffled, but you warn him nonetheless, “Don’t make me come back there.”

“Aish. Calm down, sex monster.”

The instinct to twist around and glare at him over your shoulder is strong, but every feral urge you feel is stronger. So, when he tells you to spread yourself open for him and tilt your hips back, you do so without even a hint of complaining.

With the crown of his cock slipping through your folds, inching towards your entrance, you hear him curse under his breath. Suddenly self-conscious, you finally crane your neck to the side and glance back at him. 

“We don’t have to,” you whisper. “If it’s gross and you don’t want to anymore, I get it —”

He balks at your suggestion without letting so much as a beat pass. “None of that, sweetheart; no spiraling. I’m just trying to figure out the logistics of, like… how to survive how good this already feels.”

Struck dumb, all you can muster is a peep, “Oh?”

“Shit, yeah.” His response comes in a low groan. “Can you take a deep breath for me?”

It’s a good call on his part, a suggestion you’re glad to have taken, because the pressure of him entering you is intense enough to knock the wind out of you. Empty lungs likely would’ve led to your untimely demise.

You whimper, already overwhelmed with the combination of pain and pleasure; the best kind of ache. The little, breathy moans must freak him out, however, because his fingertips caress your waist as he checks in: “This okay?”

Your limp arm lifts off the mattress, which you’ve melted fully into, and you form a circle with your index finger and thumb to indicate that you’re okay. The light is bright fucking green; you’ve just maxed out your capacity for speech.

Vernon continues his slow thrust forward, giving you ample time to adjust to his size.

“Oh my god,” he grunts, “This is — shit, I can’t believe we haven’t done this before. If I knew how good you’d feel like this, I wouldn’t have waited around for you to ask me.”

That hits like a truck.

He was waiting on you. 

You spent months convincing yourself that he’d need to be convinced, and chickening out before you could raise the idea. Months, and months, and months, of craving him during your werewolf transformation; wasting away over a shitty assumption that Vernon is anything like the people you’ve been with before. 

Christ. 

His credit for putting up with you is long overdue.

Too tongue-tied to speak any of that out loud, you settle for a summary that you hope conveys the message: “I love you so fucking much.”

Mindful of how deep it will push him into your cunt, he leans down over you carefully. Weight balanced on his knees and forearms, he envelopes you in his body heat, trails kisses across your shoulder, and echoes your words back at you between each one.

“Is this too much?” He whispers, rolling his hips slowly.

You feel him everywhere, with every drag of his cock along your walls; and you can’t tell where that throbbing sensation is coming from, him or you. 

You shake your head and sigh, “‘s perfect. You’re perfect.”

Like he knows it’ll unravel you, his large hand comes to rest over the back of yours. His fingers slip through the spaces between and squeeze you much more gently than the vice grip you hold on the bedding below you. He keeps holding you — just like this — through every movement.

The sensation of being this surrounded, this loved, this whole crashes over you like a wave and knocks you off balance.

“I’m so close,” you pant, voice as ragged as your breathing. There’s nothing that he isn’t already giving you with every deep, deliberate thrust into your heat; but you beg nonetheless, “Please, please, please —”

His speed doesn’t increase, but the intensity does. The smack of his hips colliding with your ass does, too, and you feel it reverberating in your bones. Buried as far inside of you as he can be, cock tip kissing your cervix with every high tide, length rolling across your g-spot with every low.

You cum so hard — so completely, invoking every single muscle you have — that you forget how to breathe. With a choked-out gasp, you squeeze your eyes shut and let your orgasm devastate you. 

“Fuck!”

Vernon gets caught up in the current, too, grinding desperately against you until he’s swept up in your wake. You feel him twitch inside you as his release floods, leaving you so lost in his warmth that you feel boneless underneath him.

His face winds up hidden in the crook of your neck, somewhere amidst the baby hairs that cling to the sheen of your sweat. You feel his lips fluttering against your skin when he laughs, “Oh…my god.”

“Mmphf.” You nod weakly in agreement. Beyond blissed, your body still tingles too much to move.

Slurring, you add, “‘s good. ‘s really…”

The rest of that thought dissolves into something between a moan and a yawn.

Just as tired, Vernon pats your ass cheek affectionately and mumbles, “Well said. No notes.”

You tilt your head far enough to free your face from the sheets. When you do, you find your boyfriend fighting a losing battle to keep his eyes open. In the rare seconds he can, he looks back at you in a daze that seems even more adoring than it does fuck-drunk.

“I think I need to hibernate now,” you announce. “Think you just fucked me so well that I need to take a sabbatical.”

He counter-offers, “Shower first, then sabbatical?”

You wiggle so that you can pull your joint hands to your mouth. You can’t kiss him properly while he’s laid out on top of you, but you can press your lips to the back of his hand and hope he feels how much of you that you pour into it.

“Okay, but, like…. who’s carrying who?”

[happy74827]

Something Wholesome

[Logan Howlett & Teen!Fem!Reader]

Synopsis: In which you can’t help but feel the need to comfort the big grumpy ape.

WC: 2054

Category: Comfort, Slight Fluff, Reader is Vanessa’s Younger Sister, 4th Wall Breaks {TW: Wade Being… Well, Himself.}

Even being the worst Wolverine, I believe he still is 100% a girl dad, and I stand by that statement.

『••✎••』

"I thought you quit?"

Your voice startled him. He jumped and almost dropped the cigar he was holding between his teeth. Logan's eyes fell upon you, standing in the kitchen doorway with your arms folded.

"Jesus, kid. You're gonna give me a heart attack." He shook his head, taking the cigar out of his mouth and holding it between his fingers. It was still unlit. "How'd you get in here, anyway?"

You held up a ring of keys and shook it in the air, the jingling of metal echoing around the room. "It’s called having a brother-in-law who can pick locks." You tossed the keys on the counter and sat down across from him, resting your head in your hands. "Are you having another midlife crisis, Warrior Cat?"

"You're a brat, y’know that?" He rolled his eyes, taking the cigar and tossing it back into his jacket pocket. He ran a hand over his face, sighing.

You watched him closely. The bags under his eyes, the wrinkles, the slight hunch to his shoulders. He looked old… and not the usual, rugged, cool old. You frowned, leaning across the counter.

"You know, with Wade always around, I haven't had much time to check up on my favorite Canadian." You tilted your head to the side.

"Don't let Canuck hear you say that," he snorted. You stuck your tongue out at him, and he rolled his eyes. You could see the corners of his mouth twitching.

"Seriously, Slim Jim," The joke earned a slight scowl from him. You grinned, knowing it annoyed him when you called him that. "You look your age today. What's wrong?"

Logan stared at you, and you could almost see the gears turning in his head. He was probably wondering how much to tell you. If anything, at all.

You were used to it by now. His reluctance to talk about what was bothering him, his unwillingness to rely on anyone. It was his default, and you understood that, but after three months of sharing an apartment with blind meth-headed Trunchbull and Scary Terry, it was getting really tiring.

Finally, he sighed. "I've been thinkin'."

"Oh no." You feigned fear. He shot you a warning glare. One of those 'try me and see what happens' glares. "About what?"

He didn't answer right away. His eyes kept glancing toward the pocket his cigar was stashed in. He was struggling not to light it.

You were about to ask again, but before you could, he finally spoke up.

"I drove past the school a few days ago. It's still standing, y'know. It looks the same as it did 15 years ago." He laughed, though it sounded empty. "Abandoned, sure. But it's there."

Yeah, clearly, Disney spent all their budget on Princess remakes. A shame, really. The mansion was a good place to have movie nights.

"And it just...hit me, I guess. Everything's gone, kid." His voice grew soft, and the expression he was wearing broke your heart. "Everyone I knew, everyone I ever cared about, is dead. All I got left is this shitty apartment, a crap truck, and annoying roommates who drive me crazy."

"To be fair, I haven't had any accidents in three months," Wade called from the living room. Honestly, you weren’t even aware he was home. It was even more of a miracle that he heard Logan. "Saving the world has improved my driving skills. Now, I only hit pedestrians."

"Shut the fuck up, Wilson," Logan barked, his claws popping out of his knuckles with a snikt. "Or I'll shove those swords up your ass and make you eat 'em."

“Slow your roll, Caesar Salad; this is a PG story. Step off with the sexual violence, at least until you have the author's consent to do so." Wade turned the corner into the kitchen, a huge bag of Taco Bell in his hand. "Besides, Vanessa wouldn’t be too happy if she found out I was cheating on her with your foot long. You know how jealous she gets. One time, I tried to-"

"Wade, please," You groaned. He looked at you, then at Logan, and nodded.

"You're right, you're right. I should respect the rating." Wade waved his hand in the air and made his way out of the room, taking a bite out of one of his tacos. "Also, the fact that I’m technically a father figure in this fic, for reasons we can't disclose here. I’d rather not turn this wholesome story into some weird-ass daddy kink porno, even though I wouldn’t mind if it were."

He turned his attention to an empty wall momentarily, a smile creeping on his face. "I have a feeling you guys wouldn't either, judging by the comments on those other ones, and honestly, I don't blame you. My body is a temple, and it should be worshiped. Just ask all those Honda Odyssey rewrites. They'd know all about that, especially the ones that end with me getting-"

"WADE," You and Logan yelled at the same time, his claws still unsheathed. Logan looked ready to jump over the counter and murder him, and while it wasn’t uncommon for Wade to be shredded like string cheese, the two of you had had enough drama to last the rest of the year.

"Ugh, fine." He threw his hands up, his tacos spilling all over the floor. "But just for the record, I totally just stole the focus of this fic. Don't let Logan fool you. He's only the main character because this is his story, but the real star of the show is moi." He pointed a finger to his chest and winked at you. You couldn't help but laugh.

"Get the fuck outta here," Logan said, his claws sliding back into his knuckles. "I swear to god, Wilson, if you ruin my day any more than you already have, I'm gonna shove you into the wood chipper."

"You have a wood chipper?" Wade raised an eyebrow, grinning. "My, oh, my. Who would have thought the lumberjack would make a reappearance?"

"Five. Four. Three. Two. One," You muttered.

"Don't push me, asshole." Logan was growling, his claws once again threatening to slice into the other man.

A normal person would have run away by now, but not Wade. You had known him long enough to understand that he thrived off of conflict. He was the most chaotic son of a bitch you had ever met, and nothing excited him more than pissing people off.

But, again, this wasn’t his story. He was just hijacking it, and the author had had enough. So, without further ado, they did the most logical thing. They made Mary Puppins appear, and suddenly, she was in his arms, and he was out of the kitchen, leaving behind the Taco Bell, his jokes, and his dignity.

You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose, trying not to laugh. You managed to contain it, but just barely.

You glanced over at Logan, and he still had a look on his face like he was drained and exhausted. Of course, now annoyance and anger were mixed into the cocktail.

With your sister’s boyfriend out of the picture, he slumped down against the counter, running a hand through his hair. Not much of it, given the current length, but enough that he could pull at it.

"I'm sorry," You said. You felt a pang of sympathy for him, and you couldn't imagine the shitstorm that must be going on in his mind. After all, he wasn't like the rest of you. He was a lot older, and his life had been filled with a lot more heartache and pain than you would ever experience. "It sucks."

He didn't say anything, so you continued.

"I mean, I don't know what it's like, obviously, but I can't imagine how it must feel to lose everything like that. Everyone." You paused, thinking about your family. Your own life hadn't exactly been a picnic, but the world hadn't come crashing down around you. Not yet, at least. "I can't imagine the kind of strength you must have to go on."

He grunted, which was pretty much the Logan version of a 'Thank you.'

"I just..." His voice was quiet. "I just want something permanent. That’s not this." He motioned to the room around you, and you couldn't help but notice the look in his eyes.

"I get it."

"I don't think you do, kid," he muttered, staring at his feet.

"Hey, give me a little credit. I might not be ancient like you, but I've seen some shit. Wade is infatuated with Nessie, so I go through that bullshit every other day." You shook your head. "The two of them can be a real handful together."

"No kiddin'." He snorted.

"I mean, sure. The world went to hell, but I think it's pretty safe to say that you deserve something good after all the crap that's happened." You shrugged, looking around the room. "This is that something."

He stared at you for a long moment, and you wondered if you said something wrong. Speaking to him was always a gamble. Sometimes, he would respond, and the two of you could actually hold a conversation. Other times, he would shut down and refuse to talk, or worse, yell at you.

It seemed like luck was on your side today.

"Maybe." His eyes moved to his hands, and his gaze was distant. "It's hard to think that when I'm stuck in this hell hole."

"It's not that bad."

"You’re just saying that so Wilson doesn’t think about moving back in with your sister." He rolled his eyes. "And it is. We all know that."

"Okay, fine, you're right. The apartment is shitty, and so is the neighborhood. The landlord is a bitch, and the neighbors are loud." You took a breath, leaning closer. "But, you have us."

"Oh, don't you start."

"And you've got your truck and your liquor and the crappy TV in the living room. I say, if that isn't permanent, I don't know what is."

Logan opened his mouth, but you held a finger up.

"You might not realize it, but you have a family here." You smiled at him, and he scoffed, turning his face away from you.

"I've had families before. Doesn't work out."

"Well, we're of the more persistent kind," you teased, reaching across the counter and punching him lightly on the shoulder. "We aren't going anywhere. Especially Wade. Man is a tick that refuses to let go."

"God, I wish he would."

"He won't. You're stuck with him. You’ll be the best man at his wedding, and we both know it." You grinned, and he rolled his eyes, though the corner of his lips quirked.

"Great," he muttered.

Secretly, you knew he enjoyed the banter with Wade. He acted annoyed and irritated, but deep down, you were certain he was amused. Might be frustrated, but definitely amused.

You were about to tell him that, but he spoke first.

"Thanks, kid." He reached across the counter and squeezed your arm. "You're a pain in the ass, but you're not so bad."

"Not so bad?" You snorted. "Wow. Is that how the Wolverine slid into the hearts of millions?"

He chuckled and shook his head, a smile spreading across his face. "You know what I mean, you brat."

You stood, walking around the counter. You threw your arms around him and pulled him into a hug. He didn’t hug back for reasons that you understood. Still, you wanted him to know that you were there for him and he could rely on you.

"You know," you started. "I think a lot of people would be surprised by the softy you are under all the grumpiness."

"Yeah, well, don't go around spreadin' that." He pushed you away gently, shaking his head. "I’m not a damn teddy bear, and I'll rip your throat out if you start tellin' people."

"I’m getting the Wade treatment? A threat of death if I speak a word?" You laughed, shaking your head. "I’m honored."

"Sometimes I wonder if he is your sibling instead of your sister."

"Nah, I’m too pretty to be a Wilson." You smirked. "If anything, I'm more related to my cousin."

"The one who tried to kill you last month?"

"That's the one."

"Then you definitely are a Wilson."

[adventuringblind]

Ride

Oscar Piastri x Reader x Lando Norris

Genre: Smut

Request: yes ;) and my request box is open ;););)

Summary: Two oblivious boys and an enthused female find their love for each other through her sport.

Warnings: Dom/Sub dynamics, mentions of past relationships not working out, feminization if you squint, humiliation, overstimulation, PinV sex, anal sex, oral (both m and f receiving), throat fucking

Notes: gonna go jump into holy water or something. This is absolutely filthy.

Masterlist

She wasn't sure how both Oscar and Lando could be so horribly oblivious. They like each each other and they both like her. Yet neither of them know either of those facts, it seems.

She'd known about Oscar's crush on his teammate since he first introduced her to him. The Australian would not stop staring at him. Then, when Oscar turned away, Lando would stare at him. And she was left shaking her head at them both.

She confronted him about it that same night when they were alone.

"You have a crush." She says with a teasing smile.

"What! No- he's my teammate! I can't like - I don't know... do that?" The poor boy is as red as a tomatoe, and she can't stop laughing.

"You should ask him out!"

"I highly doubt he'd be into that. Pluse, he likes you more. I swear he's your number one fan." Oscar reasons.

She's not in formula on. Instead, she is a motor gp rider. They have four wheels she has two. Earlier, Lando had gotten giddy and asked for her autograph. "I feel like he might be, and we'll never know if we don't try."

"How about we pick this conversation up later, and I reward you for doing so well in your race today."

She knows exactly the games he's playing. The worst part is it's working. Oscar has successfully turned her brain into a complying ball of mush with a single sentence.

Looks like she'll have to do things the hard way.

~

Her race in Silverstone ended up at the beginning of the F1 summer break. Meaning: Oscar and Lando are able to come watch and support her.

Lando could not be both more excited and nervous at the same time.

McLaren had made it possible to do some PR with her. Supposedly, her team thought it would also be good publicity for them and said they could come early on Thursday to film some things.

And now Lando has to get onto a bike with her. It's not her bike, but something similar that goes fast.

His body is vibrating with excitement. He'd never gotten to do this before. He was a little shocked when Oscar suggested he go with her, claiming that he'd gotten to do it a few times already.

The girl hops onto the bike first and gets herself settled. Then she motions for Lando to come join her. The friction that happens when he gets himself settled makes him want to whine. Despite all the protective gear, it's horrendous rubbing up against her back.

"Lando, you're going to have put your arms around my waist." She giggles. He's barely touching her right now, and if he wasn't wearing a helmet, then everyone would be privy to his blush.

"You ready?"

"Born ready!"

She takes off down the pitlane. He can tell she's being more cautious than how she usually drives. Probably accounting for the fact there's new weight and balance to think about. And yet, the speed at which she's driving sends Lando into a state of exhilaration.

They talk back and for a bit. But for the most part, Lando let's her focus on keeping them upright.

The friction of their body's and the vibration of the bike sends his head into a whirlwind. He has to will strength into the lower regions of his body, or he thinks he might actually get off on this alone.

The ride is over before that can happen, and he's so thankful for it. He's not sure Oscar would be pleased if he came while rubbing up against the Australians girlfriend.

They hope of the bike and Oscar comes to great them. What Lando was not expecting was the look he received. Brown eyes size him up, inspecting every inch if his body.

Before he knows what's happening, the female tugs on his arm and drags her back to her private room.

Everything is moving too fast. They take off their helmets, and the girl slams the door shut behind her. Only to get slammed into it herself by the Aussie.

Lando would wonder what he'd gotten himself into if he wasn't so damn turned on by the sight of it.

"I did it." She says with a proud smile. "Told you he'd get all worked up."

"I'll have to reward you for it later." Oscar purrs into her ear.

Lando looks back and forth between the two. Why had they wanted to get him worked up?

His eyes stay trained on Oscar as hel pulls himself away from the female. Those deep brown eyes once again scan every inch of his body. Lando can't help but blush at the action. To say he's embarrassed at the very obvious hard-on is an understatment. Yet the more Oscar continues, the more turned on he is.

Oscar closes the gap between the two. His hands find Lando's waist. "You seem to have a bit of an issue." His thigh presses into the now painful bulge in Lando's pants. The Brit yelps in surprise at the new feeling. "I'll give you a choice. If you want, you can come by our apartment tonight, and we'll help you out. Or you can walk away, and we never speak of this again."

~

She'd been very giddy when Lando accepted the proposal. Oscar is now admitting she was right and plans on rewarding her well for it tonight.

She knows Oscar's wants and needs by heart. He likes control. It's obvious in the way he holds himself. He's always in control of himself.

The more control of the things he has around him, the better he feels. This includes her. And she knows just how to push to get him to feel as though he has either maintained or created said atmosphere.

Tonight was going to he completely different. They'd had a few different partners before. Not just for sex but also for everything else. They just didn't stick around.

The problem usually was with the dynamic. The couple females that had joined them had broken things off mutually. The males, however, did not like Oscar's lustful desire for that feeling of having everything exactly where he wanted it.

She'd ended up getting hurt on multiple occasions in their desperate attempt to assert their dominance over her. It became aggravating that so many saw them as a way to fulfill their own fantasies and played a role to get into their bedroom. So, they stopped looking.

Then Oscar met Lando, and everything came crashing down.

They'd talked about things before they'd separated for the afternoon. Oscar had been very clear about what would probably happen, and there were a few boundaries set. It's better to do it before he comes over, so he has a chance to think and doesn't feel pressured to do anything.

The doorbell rings through the flat. Lando is right on time. She bounds to the door and swings it open. The Brit jumps in surprise when he sees her.

It probably didn't help that she was already gone. Willing to comply and do as told. Neither of them spoke as she grabbed his hand and led him to the couch.

He ploped down and shrunk in on himself. His eyes looked to her expectantly. "Are you going to sit?"

She shakes her head no. Her place is on her knees next to the armchair. Her hands folded neatly behind her back.

She throws Lando a reasuring smile as another set of footsteps enters the space.

"Thought I heard someone come in." Oscar sounds warm and gentle. His voice lulling her into a sense of peace as he sits himself in the armchair across from the Brit.

She leans into his leg, his fingers run comfortingly along her scalp. "You can relax, darling. We're not doing anything yet." She sighs at the words. Her legs then fold into a criss cross position as she continues to let herself relax. "You can relax to Lando. I asked if you wanted this because it seemed like you did. We're not going to do anything you don't want to.

The Brit visibly relaxs. The air is much less tense now.

"How do you feel about letting her help you with the issue she helped create earlier." He quirks his eyebrows.

"Yeah, uh, that sounds - that sounds great." Lando nods his head eagerly.

She crawls in between his legs and unbuttons his jeans. They make eye contact. Her hands tug on the waistband to ask permission to take them off. He lifts his hips, and together, they manage both his jeans and boxers off.

He looks painfully hard. And she can't help but stare at his very pretty looking cock. She licks a few stripes from top to bottom. "You look very pretty, Lan." He shivers and moans as she hollows her cheeks and works her way down him.

Oscar slips around behind him. His fingers nimbly pull off the Brits shirt. His hands run down the sides of his body. "Green means good to go. Yellow means to slow down and talk. Red means complete stop. Color?"

"Green! Fuck I'm so green." Lando all but shouts. Then, the Aussie reaches further and takes a handful of her hair. The gentle tug pulls a whine from her. He stops her and pulls her off of him.

"Go ahead and fuck her mouth Lan, she'll tap your thigh if she needs to stop." He slams her mouth back down onto Lando. His grip held her in place, and the Brit slams his hips in and out of her mouth. The tip bruises the back of her throat, and she focuses on not gagging.

She can tell Lando is close by the way his hips stutter. "I'm close, fuck, mouth feels so good." He pants.

"Go ahead, Lan. Finish down her throat."

She runs her tongue through the slit and then her mouth is coated in the warm and salty substance. Lando lets out a string of profanities and his muscles contract.

He collapses back down on the couch. His chest heaving to regain air. She pulls off of him and wipes her mouth off.

"You do you both feel? Want to bring this somewhere more comfortable?"

The mix of exploring hands and wet kisses took over everything. Her and Lando had lost all their clothing, and Oscar is down to his boxers.

"Fucking hell, you're both so pretty. So good for me." Oscar leans down to whisper in her ear. "Want you to eddge him. Can you do that for me?" Obviously, she can. The rapid nod of her says everything.

Oscar then pushes Lando down to his knees. His body towers above the Brit. The Aussie grabs his chin tightly and forces his gaze onto him. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you like being embarrassed. Are you really that much of a slut that even shameful things turn you on?"

A high-pitched whine leaves Lando's mouth. She takes that as her cue to drop back behind him. She runs her fingers along his torso. His cock already hard again. He whines again as she just barely touches the head.

"Gonna put your whiny mouth to use." Oscar discards the last of his clothing. He grips Lando by his curls and coos at him. "Hand on my thigh. Three taps if you need to stop." Lando complies and takes a deep breath in before Oscar is slamming into his throat.

She begins stroking the Brit at a similar pace. She deliberately slows down and speeds up as she reads the signals from his body.

Oscar is pratically vibrating. His deep gurreral moans and occasional praise signal he's getting close. His knees are becoming increasingly weaker. And soon, he's barely giving any warning as he spills down Lando's throat. His legs buckle, and his hands grip Lando for support.

The Aussie pulls out of Lando and catches his breath. "What a filthy mouth you have, Lan!"

The female is still stroking Lando, and it's obvious how bad he wants it from the way he's begging. "Please- can I, fuck, can I cum again?"

"Not yet." Oscar signals for her to stop, and she back away completely. She pouts at the lack of warmth Lando's body was providing her with.

Now, they actually fumble into bed. The softness of the mattress envelopes her body. Her legs are being spread by the Brit, who has found himself on his stomach and a pillow sitting comfortably beneath him. His teeth nibble at the insides of her thighs, and she moans at the stimulation she's finally getting.

A slap echoes through the room as Oscar's palm lands on the Brits ass. He bites down into her in surprise, causing her to yelp. The smug smirk of the Australians face tells her this is exactly what he's been fantasizing about for months now.

She can't really see everything that's going on, and words sound muffled to her cloudy brain.

"You can cum when you make her finish on your tongue." And oh how grateful she is to hear that. The lack of needing permission gives her the freedom to just lose herself. The feeling of Lando's warm tongue lapping where she needs it most sends shivers of pleasure coursing through her spine.

"Gonna fuck your pretty pussy now Lan, is that okay?"

The Brit detaches from her and wails for him to continue. The vibrations from his moans send another wave of lust crashing over her.

It feels heavenly. Watching Oscar snap his hips into Lando and getting to feel it by proxy every time they move.

Her eyes roll back. Her spine arches. She can feel the inevitable fall of the edge as she inches closer to the ledge.

Everything is fast. The heavy pants and moans fill the space of the room. And then her mind goes blank.

Her mouth falls open as she finds the everwhelming ecstasy filling her veins. She tries to push herself away, but Lando's grip on her legs is strong and determined as he wails in his own pleasure.

Oscar follows with them. His body nearly topples onto Lando.

They are panting and trying to catch their breath. Oscar places sloppy kisses down Lando's spine and whispers praises to him. "What do you say we reward our girl now, Lan? She's done an excellent job getting us here, and I think she deserves it."

She's not quite sure how she found herself in the positions she did. They used every advantage they had. Slammed into at every possible angle.

Oscar used his words to keep her exactly where he wanted her. Degrading and vile words leave his lips only to be followed by sweet praises. She is so deep that he manages to pull his title from her mouth like a prayer.

Lando maps her body with his hands and his teeth. His tongue runs across every area he can get to. He leaves hickeys in every place they won't be seen.

She list count at one point. The never-ending stream of pleasure clouding her mind and corroding her judgment. She lets them use her and takes everything she's given.

Her body twitches, and her heart beats rapidly as everything comes to slow.

She doesn't move. She can't move. But the boys do, and she almost cries as it's away from her.

She panics as Lando starts collecting his things. "Where are you going? You're not leaving, are you?"

"After this, you couldn't get rid of me if you tried." He smiles.

Oscar comes back freshened up and with water for everyone. "We should probably talk about this."

"How about we talk later and cuddle now."

"I second that."

"I agree, but first." Oscar looks directing at Lando. It's much different from the earlier lust. "We really like you, Lando, both of us. We want you to stay for more than just this."

Lando looks like he might cry. Instead of tears, though, he smiles and kisses them both sweetly. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

He flops down on the bed. And pulls them both in. "Now I'm thinking movie and snacks after that. Did a number on me, Osc. Seriously!"

They all laugh at the at the Brits antics. The atmosphere now relaxed as they bask in their newfound love for each other.

[miazetomer]

Heartless | Rafe Cameron x pogue(ish)!fem!reader (Part IV)

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, angst, fluff, smut, alcohol use, drug use, takes place during season one, brief mention of SA, the usual

Summary: You never really felt like you belonged anywhere. Your father was a pogue, your mother a kook. You felt out of place in The Cut, in Figure Eight, at the Academy. And Rafe Cameron certainly didn’t make things easier, he knew how to push your buttons, grinding your gears in just the right way, but he loved the little game you two played.

prev next

♡♡♡

Two weeks. For two weeks you’ve avoided Rafe Cameron and the Cameron estate like the plague. You’ve kept your curtains in your bedroom closed and your window shut. You’ve only hung out with Sarah at your house or in town and any time she wanted to relax by the pool, it was your pool you guys relaxed by.

“Sweetie, is everything okay?” Your mom asked one day after coming into your room. You were sitting at your desk finishing up a summer project when she decided to come knocking on your door.

“Yeah, Mom, everything’s fine.” You muttered, continuing to tap away on your laptop keyboard.

“Are you sure, because you haven’t been going out as much and honestly, I don’t know the last time you went over to the Cameron’s.” She said sounding concerned as she sat down on your bed.

“I’m just trying to finish up my summer work.” You explained, turning around in your chair to face her. But, you knew it wasn’t the truth.

“And it has nothing to do with Rafe?”

“Mom, why would it possibly be about Rafe?” You asked, rolling your eyes as you turned back to your laptop.

“Well, you know, he gave you those nice flowers and then you just kind of stopped going over to the Cameron’s. I know you’re not fighting with Sarah, because she’s been over here every day, not that I mind. And I know you’re kind of scared of commitment-”

“Mom.” You said softly, turning to face her once again. “Nothing has happened between Rafe and I, nothing is going to happen between Rafe and I. Please, just drop it.”

“Alright.” Your mom stood from her spot on the bed and you thought she was leaving until she turned back around. “What about you and that Routledge boy?”

“Mom please leave.” You sighed, dropping your face into your hands.

“Okay, okay.” She said, finally leaving your room, closing the door behind her.

You thought that once you left you would finally get some peace and quiet until your phone vibrated on your desk. You checked it and it was a text from Sarah.

party at my house tonight :)

please say you’ll come y/n you haven’t come to any of our parties in two weeks

You sighed as you looked at the texts. You weighed the pros and cons in your head. It was only one party, there’s going to be tons of people there, the chances of you actually running into Rafe were probably minuscule. But on the other hand the probability of running into Rafe was definitely high.

You sighed and rubbed your temples with your index fingers. What were you doing? This wasn’t like you. You didn’t hide in your room from a boy, much less Rafe Cameron. You grabbed your phone with a sigh and quickly typed out your reply.

fine i’ll come

but don’t expect me to have fun

You walked into your closet, if you were gonna go to this party, you needed to find something cute and fast.

♡♡♡

You walked into the Cameron party with your head held high. Plenty of people said hi to you as you walked through, but the tensions in your shoulders relaxed a little once you saw Sarah making her way towards you.

“She’s here, she’s here.” She cheered, practically skipping towards you before giving you a hug. “Thank God you’re here, I was surrounded by too much male energy. Come on, let’s get you a drink.”

You and Sarah stood around the kitchen, drinking and laughing, when Sarah looked over your shoulder and saw a guy approaching you.

“Oh my God.” She mumbled, before taking a sip from her drink. “Lucas is coming over here.”

“What?” You said, before turning your head in his direction. Your face immediately dropping when you saw him. Lucas Channing, your ex-boyfriend.

“Y/n.” He smiled, looking down at you, clutching a beer bottle. “Happy you’re here. You’re just the person I was looking for.”

“Is that so?” You asked with a raised brow, taking a sip from whatever drink Sarah made you.

♡♡♡

You weren’t quite sure how it happened, but there you stood in the Cameron’s backyard, with your back pressed up against the tree as you made out with your ex-boyfriend, Lucas. The kisses weren’t desperate or hungry, just the right amount of perfect. His hands had a firm grip on your hips as you had your hands pressed into the back of his neck, pulling his hair at the bottom of his head ever so slightly. His hands traveled down to your ass, gripping it softly as he pushed your body impossibly closer to his. You gasped lightly and he took this opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, tasting you and whatever drinks you had that night.

“I’ve missed you.” He mumbled against your skin before he placed a few delicate kisses on your neck.

“Uh-huh.” Was all you said when you turned your head to the right and your eyes locked onto Rafe, who had a girl hanging off his arm. His arm was thrown over her shoulders, but he wasn’t looking at her as she talked to him, he was looking right at you. His jaw was clenched and his eyes were shooting daggers at you, like how dare you come to his party and let someone else put their hands on you. You smirked and grabbed Lucas’ hand as you led him through the party.

“Where are we going?” He asked, looking at you slightly confused.

“My place.” You responded with a smile as you looked over your shoulder. But before you could go any further Rafe blocked your path.

“Where you guys goin’?” He asked with a smirk, looking down at you.

“We’re leaving.” You answered, dropping Lucas’ hand to cross your arms, pushing your chest up. You didn’t have an amused look on your face, but Rafe sure did.

“So early? The party’s just started.” He said, lifting his arms up, pointing out the bustling crowd. Rafe knew Lucas, he knew how much you liked Lucas before the two of you started dating.

“What are you two losers talking about?” Rafe asked, stepping outside where you and Sarah were talking by the pool. Rafe decided to sit next to you on the couch outside, letting his knee graze yours and throwing his arm on the back of the couch right behind you.

“Lucas Channing.” She answered, looking down at her hands as she inspected her manicure.

“Why would you be talking about that dickhead?”

“Someone’s into him.” Sarah said with a smile, looking at you, causing you to roll your eyes. This was just great, Rafe knew you were crushing on someone and you were certain you weren’t going to hear the end of it. He always did this thing when he found out you were into a guy, he would say the worst things about them, point out their biggest flaws to you, and it pissed you off to no end, leading to yet another fight that always turned out to be a bigger deal than it needed to be.

“Just let us leave, Rafe.” You sighed, clearly annoyed that he was cockblocking you.

“And let you miss all the fun? Absolutely not.” Rafe threw his arm around your shoulder and started pulling you back into the party, leaving Lucas behind. “Trust me, I’m doing you a favor.” Rafe leaned down and whispered in your ear, keeping a smile on his face so as to not arouse any suspicion.

“Okay, get off me.” You huffed, pushing Rafe away from you once you got further into the party and away from Lucas. “What the hell was that?”

“Um, I just saved your life as far as I’m concerned. Seriously, that dude just got arrested for sexual assault in Charleston.”

“Then why is he at your party, kick him out or something.” You felt disgusted, you just let this man touch you, he had his tongue in your mouth and all you wanted to do now was brush your teeth.

“I didn’t know he was here until I saw you with his tongue down your throat. Besides, some freshman is supposed to be on door duty.”

“Door duty doesn’t make any sense Rafe, how is he supposed to stop somebody from coming in?”

“They get pictures of banned people.” He explained, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Right, and they’re gonna stop every person at the door and check the pictures. Real effective.” You glared at Rafe, shifting your weight to one foot as you kept your arms crossed.

“Okay, look, I will go deal with Lucas personally, just stay here.” Rafe said, an attempt at trying to make you feel better.

“Thank you.” You sighed, watching Rafe as he went back to the last place he saw Lucas.

“Hey.” Sarah said with a smile as she came over to where you stood. “Where’s Lucas?”

“Long story.” You muttered, looking down at your heels.

“Do you want to get another drink?”

“Desperately.”

♡♡♡

You and Sarah stood in your place in the kitchen just talking and laughing when you felt someone’s hand on your waist, making you jump.

“It’s just me.” Rafe said when you turned around. “I just wanted to let you know you don’t have to worry about Lucas anymore.”

When you realized what Rafe had said, you relaxed into his touch a little. He stayed there joining in on yours and Sarah’s conversation, rubbing circles into your side with his thumb. Sarah’s eyes darted between the two of you, attempting to keep her cool, because why are you two acting like his hand on your waist was the most natural thing ever.

Rafe noticed when you started getting too drunk and started leaning into his side more, his hand on your waist tightening a bit to keep you steady.

He leaned down to your ear and asked, “Do you want to go to my room? I think you’re ready for bed.”

You just nodded in reply, taking Rafe’s hand as he led you up the stairs. Rafe opened the door to his room and let you in first before closing the door behind him.

“I need to shower.” You muttered, stumbling towards the bathroom. Rafe followed you, making sure you didn’t fall on the way. He turned the shower on and put your hair up for you. He knew how precious your hair was to you and he was sure you weren’t going to use his ‘manly’ hair wash.

“Sit.” He said, pointing towards the toilet. You sighed and sat down on the toilet, Rafe kneeling in front of you. He took your heels off for you and you watched as he looked concentrated.

“How many girls have you done this for?” You asked as you looked down at him.

“Just you, baby.” He answered, looking up at you with that stupid smirk on his face.

“Mhm, are you sure?” You said, crossing your arms across your chest, dropping your foot from his knee once he got your first heel off and putting your next foot up on his knee.

“Trust me you’re the only one who’s gotten this kind of five star Rafe Cameron treatment.”

Rafe stood up and took your hands, helping you stand up.

“Come on, let’s get your dress off.” Rafe said, turning you around to unzip your dress. You stepped out of your dress once it hit the floor and took off your thong tossing it on top of your dress.

“Your turn.” You said, turning around to face Rafe. “I’m only getting in if you get in.” You crossed your arms and looked Rafe up and down.

“Fine.” He sighed, taking off his polo. You stumbled towards Rafe and helped him take off his belt.

Rafe looked down at you, watching you fiddle with his belt. He couldn’t believe this was happening. You, naked, right in front of him, taking his pants off.

You peered up at him through your lashes, your eyes drifting down to his lips.

“Come on, let’s get you in the shower before you make a bad decision.” He said quietly, guiding you into the shower. You stepped under the stream and let the hot water wash over you, tilting your head back ever so slightly, leaning it against Rafe’s chest. You let Rafe wash your body, he made sure not to let his hands linger any longer than they needed to, no matter how bad he wanted to. He gently grabbed your waist and turned you around to face him. He gently washed your face with whatever face wash he had, making sure to get all your makeup off. “How do I get your mascara off?” He held your face in his hands, quietly inspecting your eyelashes.

“Don’t worry about it.” You muttered, wrapping your arms around his waist as you leaned against him. Rafe was trying everything in his power not to get hard, but it didn’t work and you felt it and he definitely felt it, but nobody said anything. Just the two of you trying to keep the precious moment going as long as you could. You opened your eyes and looked at Rafe, but he was busy looking down at your lips, his own slightly parted.

“No bad decisions, remember?” You quietly reminded him.

“No bad decisions.” He agreed, reaching around you to turn the shower off. Rafe led you out of the shower before wrapping a towel around you tightly and then wrapped his own towel around his waist.

Rafe held your hand and took you into his closet, grabbing a t-shirt for you to wear. You dropped the towel and he quickly pulled the shirt over your head. He put his own pair of sweatpants on and guided you to his bed.

“Let’s go to sleep, you need it.” He said quietly, pulling the covers back for you. You crawled into his bed and he got in next to you, facing you.

“Rafe.” You said quietly, looking down at his lips, before looking back at his eyes. “I think I want to make a bad decision.”

“Y/n-” He started, but you cut him off, kissing him gently at first, just testing the waters, but he started kissing you back, deepening the kiss. It was different than the kiss you shared with Lucas. That kiss was purely just a pre-sex kiss, this kiss with Rafe was like years and years of tension was finally crumbling, like it was all you needed all this time. The kiss felt like coming up for a breath of fresh air after being underwater for too long.

Rafe’s right hand gripped your waist and his left hand cupped the back of your neck deepening the kiss. Before you knew it you were straddling him, your hands on either side of his head, grinding your hips against his. Rafe licked your bottom lip, begging for entrance into your mouth and you gave it to him, opening your mouth just enough for Rafe to get his tongue in. The kiss was enough to make you even more drunk than you already were and you didn’t think it could get better until Rafe put his hands exactly where you wanted them, on your ass. He gripped onto it like he wasn’t ever going to get another chance to touch you this way, pushing your hips down against him. You could feel the heat pooling between your legs, arousal dripping down your thigh, you were sure Rafe could feel it when he groaned against your lips.

“We-we shouldn’t be doing this.” You muttered in between kisses with Rafe.

“I know, baby.” He groaned, leaning both of you up and you wrapped your legs around him as he trailed kisses down your jaw, then your neck. “We won’t go any farther than this, I promise.” He whispered against your skin before sucking on that spot right below your ear, nipping at it lightly. You moaned lightly, tilting your head to the side to provide more access to Rafe. If Rafe was gonna make sure of one thing tonight, it was marking you up. He wanted to make sure tomorrow everyone who saw you knew one thing, you belonged to Rafe Cameron.

[lonigiri]

fake dating with gojo plsss

oh my lord i went off with this one guys idk what arose in me when i was writing this but lord. tysm for the ask anonnie!!

Fake Dating Gojo Satoru

warnings: fake dating (obviously), non curse au, fem!reader, implied gojo beating the shit out of people, oral (f reciving), gojo is PISSED, other guys oogling reader, gojo kinda has a sharing problem

note: this is kinda a little drabble. not proof read and i wrote this at 6 am saurrr.

fake dating gojo… he asks you to come with him to a business meeting because everyone there will have a girl on their hip besides him and he just wants someone to be there with him

fake dating gojo… you said no at first but then he practically started BEGGING you to go with him, and to get him to stop being annoying you said yes

fake dating gojo… the long awaited day comes and he had bought you a pretty silk red dress that hugged your curves so nicely. so thats why he was asking for your measurements.

fake dating gojo… you finally arrived at the venue where the meeting was taking place. though it was hardly a meeting, more of a party.

fake dating gojo… you catch onto him and he relents telling you that its not a business meeting but it is a cocktail party with all of the people from his company and he still wanted a pretty girl to show off.

fake dating gojo… he didnt leave you alone for one second, always having his arm draped around you in some sort of capacity

fake dating gojo… all of the guys gojo opted to talking to staring you down. you could feel all their eyes on you, getting kinda uncomfortable you pulled on gojos suit jacket to get him to pay attention to you rather then whatever the hell he was talking about

fake dating gojo… you’d told him what was happening and he told you to go wait by the bar. you could see on his usual happy face that he was not in a good mood anymore. you felt kinda bad because he was having a good time and you felt as if you ruined it.

fake dating gojo… you complied when he told you to wait at the bar taking yourself over to it and sitting on one of the barstools as you distracted yourself with ordering a drink.

fake dating gojo… you had made conversation with a few guys that had been sitting to your right while you waiting for gojo. telling them that you came with someone but he was dealing with something right now so he sent you over here, the two men murmured to eachother, you not being able to hear because of the music playing.

fake dating gojo… you continued conversing with the two men til you felt a hand on your shoulder. turning back you saw the once calm man kinda disheveled. he tells you that your leaving and you complied with him. waving goodbye to the two guys that were at the bar.

fake dating gojo… you had practically been dragged out of the venue and tossed into the car. “satoru whats going on.” you voiced to him and in response he just grumbled. putting the car in gear but before he could start driving you put your hand over him on the gear shift.

fake dating gojo… before you knew what was happening you were in the back seat of his expensive car your dress was hiked up as gojo ate you out.

“ngh, satoru!” you could feel his tongue somehow go deeper into your pussy. he was murmuring shit against your heat but you couldnt tell what he was saying. the only thing you heard was your own moans and the sound of your head pounding. “fucking people in there. how do they not know you’re mine, i can only look at you like that.” you moaned hot at his words. you weren’t interested in going to this so called business meeting but you were so glad you agreed.

———

do not steal my work/translate. likes and reposts always help!!

[guilty-ff]

Fading Shadows: Love and Betrayal pt.1

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏 ˚⁎⁺˳ .

Simon has been your boyfriend for nearly four years. Both of you being colleagues in the 141 task force, living with the dangers of a sergeant being in a relationship with a lietaunent. As Ghost departs on a mission to bring Makarov back, ghosting you for months and coming back as a different person, your relationship begins to crumble

Pairings: fem!reader, Simon Riley, König

Genre: mild angst

Tags: MW3 Spoilers, angst, ghosting, anxiety, arguing, break up, independent, death, kinda Asshole Ghost

It's been three months since your boyfriend Simon departed for the mission with his teammates to catch Makarov. You are a part of Task Force 141, but due to a bullet injury on your left shoulder, you were not allowed to join and requested rest.

You asked Laswell countless times for their status. Not a single message or tracking of the group can be found. Anxiety that something might have happened to the group and specifically your boyfriend begins to rise, and several sleepless nights have been encountered. You promised each other, before being recruited for any mission, to stay in contact.

You are currently lying in your and Simon's shared bed, taking small breaths of his shirt lingering with cologne, wishing each second to receive a sign of his wellbeing. Sure, you both knew what you were getting into when you decided to confess to each other and get into a relationship. Your friends and family, even your colleagues, warned you of a relationship in the military, but nevertheless, you and Simon frankly did not care.

The high ceilings of your bedroom are seeming larger than before. You feel as if you are taking up all the space. Every night is the same. Staring daggers into the wall until reality hits.

You hear a door squeaking and by the time you turn your back, you are facing your boyfriend in his tactical uniform, combat boots and skull mask. You have always loved his military uniform and the way it fits and contours his physic. Likewise, you managed to conceal your face with an agonizing smile. Hiding all the concern and emotions of distress you felt over the past few months.

Living with him for two years taught you that you needed to be patient. After each mission, he returns with a stoic expression and tensed muscles. Him opening up to you took him months, and you do not want to pressure him any further. You knew about his trauma, the things he went through as a child, the results of a childhood full of assault, and the way he copes with his problems. One of them is to lock them up and slowly open them one by one.

While you watch him stripping off his tactical gear and mask, you notice a different look in his face. An expression you cannot read or identify.

As he walks towards the bed, you are moving closer to his side of the bed and can sense the mattress sink and the bedsheets shift. You are wrapping your arms around his shoulders and snuggling up close. Both of you have always loved to cuddle and feel each other's body heat. But now, it feels much more distant and foreign. You shake off these thoughts, close your eyes, and hug him even tighter. 

In the morning, you were woken up by your alarm, you pull the sheets tighter around your body. Sensing nothing but cold air caressing your body. You open your eyes, trying to reach for your phone for a few moments before realizing that your partner is nowhere to be found.

You straighten yourself up and get ready for your morning routine as you find a little note on the drawer next to your side:

"I'm off to work"

Usually he wakes you up before leaving the house, but since yesterday, each habit has become foreign.

Even though your injuries have not healed properly, you decide to go to the base and start training. As long as you go easy on yourself and are careful with your stitches, you will find training to be a good alternative to ease your mind.

After arriving at the base, you see your team from afar sitting at the meeting table. Captain Price looks up, and our eyes meet. 

"Aren't you supposed to stay at home, Sergeant?" He asks, furrowing his brown brow and crossing his arms.

"You know me damn well, Captain. You can't expect me to just sit at home and do nothing. I'm fully rested and ready to take up my work, " I answer truthfully, with a wide grin crossing my face. 

My eyes are scanning the room. 

Looking to my left, there sits Ghost, cleaning his rifle with an old cloth, focusing to get all the dirt out of the muzzle before using it for the sniping training with new recruits.

At my right, Gaz is sitting at the end of the table, fully clothed and hooded, with a saddened appearance. The longer I remain in the room, the more the atmosphere feels suffocating, pressing the air out of my lungs. 

Counting each member of the group, I witness that someone is missing. 

"Isn't it past our meeting time? Where the fuck is Soap at? Always being late, isn’t he?" I try to laugh the depressed ambience off. 

Price's contentment look got plastered drastically into a painful expression on his face. 

Price hesitates before mumbling ��K.I.A” 

“What did you just say?” I ask fully known what he has just said. You and Soap were not that much closer in comparison to him and Simon. Nevertheless, he was someone who brought positive vibes in the TF141, which was through all the bloody mission very much needed. Searching throughout the room for answers, your eyes are landing on Simon, who avoids eye contact.

"Makorov shot him in the skull while shielding Simon from Makorov shooting range, he truly died as a hero. In spite of that, we were unable to rescue him. It was an instant kill in action.“

"I could have been there. My shoulder were only aching a bit. I could have been of use-"

"No. Y/n you could have done nothing. The orders of the higher ups were final, and your injuries could’ve been a burden to us.“ Gaz interrupts understanding your moment of distress.

The news of Soap's demise hits you like a shockwave, the weight of grief settling heavy in your chest. Your eyes fixate on Simon, searching for any sign of emotion, but he remains distant, his gaze fixed on some distant point. The room's stifling atmosphere becomes unbearable.

As Gaz speaks about the circumstances leading to Soap's death, you can't help but feel a pang of guilt. The what-ifs echo in your mind, wondering if your presence could have altered the tragic outcome. Gaz's reassurance attempts to pacify your self-blame, but the guilt lingers.

In the days that follow, the once-shared apartment with Simon becomes a silent battleground of unspoken pain. Simon withdraws further, shutting out the world with a stoic facade, and you struggle to bridge the growing gap.

Attempting to salvage what remains, you confront Simon in the dimly lit living room. "Simon, we need to talk. This silence is tearing us apart. Soap's gone, but we're still here, and I can't lose you too."

As he does not speak, you try to calm yourself down and trying your best to be patient and understanding, when all of a sudden, Simon stands up from the couch and leaves you alone in the living room, taking his phone and ignoring you. A synapsis snapped, and all your build in anger, guilt and angst over the past few months exit your body.

"That's enough, if you don’t mind talking to me, alright I get it, if you keep ignoring me, sure enough, but if you do so, you should at least look at me while I'm speaking to you". I yank his phone out of his hand and make him lower his head.

"For fuck's sake, what the fuck was that for? Mind your own bloody business. Stop annoying me and keep out of it.“ he raises his voice at you, something he has never done.

Your frustration eruptes in a torrent of words, "Simon, you can't keep ignoring my feelings and opinions. It's like you live in your own world, completely oblivious to everything I say!"

"I'm not ignoring you. I just don't have time for constant fucking complaints. Maybe if you had something constructive to say-"

"Constructive? How about acknowledging that I have valid thoughts and emotions? You dismiss everything I bring up!"

Simon scoffes,"You're exaggerating. I'm dealing with real problems, not your constant need for attention."

Y/n's anger simmering, "Real problems? Ignoring your partner is a real problem. I'm right here, trying to communicate, and you act like I'm invisible."

Simon, brushing it off, said, "I've got work, responsibilities. I can't be catering to your every whim."

"Damn it. It's not about catering, Simon. It's about being a partner, someone who listens and cares. But you're so wrapped up in your narcissistic ass mindset that you don't even see how much you're hurting me."

Simon, oblivious or unwilling to understand, replies, "I don't have time for this drama. If you can't handle it, maybe we should reevaluate this relationship."

"You really are a pathetic piece of shit, Simon. I'm here trying my best to hold this relationship between us together. While you, you keep on-"

"Of course. It's always me to blame, isn't it? It's always gotta be about you. Maybe your mother should have been present in your childhood and taught you some manners instead of bitching around like you do. Maybe it really would've been better for all of us if you would have come to the mission instead of Soap and died there instead of him-" he snaps back, completely unaware of what he just said.

*smack* Simon feels a sharp sting across his right cheek, unable to answer, he just stares blankly at you and decides not to take a single word back.

You are standing with teary eyes in front of him, trying to process the things he said.

"Well maybe, it would be the best for us if we break up!" I scream back.

The room falls into an awkward silence after the resounding smack. Simon's cheek burns, mirroring the emotional fire that had ignited between you. In the midst of your tears, a newfound strength emerges.

Without a word, you turn away, refusing to let Simon witness your vulnerability any longer. As you gather your belongings, a heavy silence settles, the relationship irreparably fractured. Simon, still grappling with the impact of his words, realizes the magnitude of his actions but finds himself paralyzed by the weight of regret.

With a final, sorrowful glance, you leave the room, leaving Simon to confront the consequences of his hurtful words. The painful truth lingers, marking the end of a relationship that once held a promise.

[kit-williams]

Mind if I dump some Konrad Curze fluff in an AU where the Horus Heresy never happened?

---------------------------------------------------

It had all started when he got a new serf. She was an odd creature, kind and soft-spoken, yet shunned by the other servants.

This was curious, usually the serfs aboard the Nightfall were as thick as thieves, sharing crucial information that would keep them away from the bloodthirsty astartes.

He supposed that it made sense that the pariah of the group would end up doing the worst jobs, such as having to clean the Primarch's quarters.

Another oddity of yours was how you didn't seem to afraid of the Marines or of him. You would even come to clean his quarters while he was still present.

The serfs on board would only ever clean anything if the occupants had left this area, this along with the general gore that was constantly being brought in by the Night Lords made the Nightfall one of the filthiest ships in the Imperium.

And yet, ever since you became his serf, his private quarters were never short of immaculate. You never seemed to attract any attention, you did what you had to do, to the best of your ability, that was it.

Maybe that was what drew him to you. In a galaxy where he was shunned for being overly cruel, and could feel his sanity slipping away, you were something to ground himself to. So that he wouldn't lose himself to the Night Haunter.

You had an aura of calmness around you that seemed to calm him down, to the point where he would sometimes knock something over on purpose and call the serfs for a clean up. His tension and migraines always seemed to vanish after you entered.

One day, as you were cleaning up his latest mess of broken ceramite from a fit of madness, he decided to call you over. You were just putting away everything when you got your new orders.

"Come sit by me." The primarch of the Nightlords stated.

An odd request, but one you dutifully fulfilled. You looked up at him for your next order.

"Why are you shunned by the rest of the serfs?"

A straightforward question with straightforward answer.

"I am a null my lord."

The simple sentence surprised him, and just when he thought that he had you figured out. He knew of Nulls and Pariahs, he's met with the sisters of silence after all, he know that the Ordo Assassinoram trains powerful Pariahs into Cullexus assassins. But the question remained, why would one so powerful, as to negate the psychic power of the warp, be a serf aboard his ship?

"Why are you a serf? You should be in the imperial guard, or a part of the sisters of silence."

He watched as the serf thought for a moment.

"My Pariah gene is recessive, and as such I cannot be a sister of silence."

"But it still has a noticeable phenotype with how your fellow serfs avoid you." Konrad argued back.

She sighed. "That is true my lord, I was trained by the Astra Telepathica, but I was wounded in training, so I was discharged. My null sphere was strong enough that not many people trusted me enough to hire me, one of the few jobs where I was accepted was as a serf aboard you ship."

He swallowed. It was obviously unfair, but the Imperium wasn't known to be fair to anyone.

You being a semi-powerful Null did get the gears in his mind to turn however. Maybe that was why he felt so calm around you, your null sphere numbing the worst of his precognition.

With a wave of his hand he dismissed you. You simply bow your head and move on, your work complete.

You were useful to him. He needed to figure out a plan to keep you around.

---------------------------------------------------

In case you didn't know, Nulls are basically anti Psykers. This is because those born with the Null or Pariah gene exhibit a null force around them which negates all psychic energy.

Powerful Pariahs are recruited by the Imperium to become sisters of silence, who are the emperor's personal force to deal with Warp shenanigans, or become Cullexus assassins who are trained by the assassinoram to kill powerful Psykers.

Lower level Nulls are useful in the imperial guard as their force wards off chaos, rogue Psykers, the Eldar, and causes tyranid synapses to misfire.

The downside to all of this is that the more powerful the null sphere, the more people dislike and distrust them. Many powerful Nulls don't even make it past childhood because of this.

Konrad likes this serf because she quiets down the visions in his mind.

I knew about Nulls so thank you for adding it in for the people in the back

Just I never thought about it like this... oh how just nice

[asumofwords]

The Sublet - Roommate!AU

Warnings: She/her pronouns, slow burn, angst. Tags will be added as the fic goes along. Fighting, Aemond being an asshole, fingering, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, degradation, hair pulling, spanking, daddy kink.

Pairings: Modern!Aemond x Reader

Summary: Living with Helaena Targaryen was one of the best decisions you had ever made. Meeting at university, the two of you became thick as thieves and quickly best friends, moving into a flat together. But what will happen when Helaena has to leave, and her quiet, brooding, brother moves in?

Notes: Okay so, two things. I should preface this by telling you all that Harold Holt was an Australian Prime Minister who went swimming and never came back. It was assumed he drowned, or got eaten by sharks, or if you want to go with the more fun conspiracy theories, got abducted in a submarine. But to do a Harold Holt is basically to do a runner, no show, disappearance with no word, smoke bomb, etc. Hope you get it now lol. Secondly, the song Aemond is listening to is from one of my longtime fav bands who I got to see live! The song is ‘Kletka - Molchat Doma’ and its such a vibe, anyway, thanks for your patience on the update! Its a long ass chapter because I don't know how to stop.... Enjoy <3

Chapter 6: Lapse in Judgement

Waking up the next morning was something that you had dreaded the moment you ran and hid in your room, diving beneath your sheets as your heart raced and your core throbbed.

Your fingers had grazed your lips, sensitive from the bruising kiss he had pulled you into.

Fuck.

You had kissed Aemond. 

And Aemond had kissed you.

You had felt the phantom feeling of his fingers on your core and had tossed and turned all night, desperately trying to ignore the heartbeat that settled between your thighs and the mounting anxiety that followed. 

What would Helaena say?

When you woke that morning, the turning of your stomach began almost immediately, anxiety winding its way higher and higher, palms sweating, knowing that you would have to face the music and exit your room. 

A small headache had formed behind your eyes from the alcohol, but it was barely noticeable in comparison to your racing thoughts. Or perhaps the cause for your headache was the conundrum you now found yourself in.

Note to self, no more Porn Star Martinis if a handsome and brooding man was in your apartment.

You dressed, and ran to the bathroom, noticing Aemond’s door was open. 

When you looked at yourself in the mirror, there were bags beneath your eyes, and your hair a mess from tossing and turning all night. You paid careful attention to concealing the dark shadows and fixing your hair before you took a steady breath and exited the loo. 

You expected Aemond to be gone for his morning run as he usually was, as the creature of habit he seemed to be, door open and all that, but nope, fate had other plans for you. Aemond stood, in his over six foot glory in the kitchen, mug in his hands as he looked out the window. He was dressed in his running gear, grey shirt today and his hair was down, cascading over his shoulders, strands tucked neatly behind his ears. 

On your approach, he lifted his head to look at you. 

You swallowed dryly, feet stumbling slightly against the floor boards as you made your way over, heat rising in your cheeks. You were mortified, and beyond that, ashamed.

Ashamed of who it was.

Ashamed of how you had acted.

Ashamed that it was Helaena’s brother.

And ashamed that you had liked it.

You had to tear your face away from his gaze, diverting your eyes to the floor as you made your way over, picking up the kettle to make yourself your morning tea. You didn’t greet him verbally, too unsure of what to do, and so you gave him a soft nod.

A sliding sound caught your attention. 

You took your eyes from the sink, and beside you on the bench, Aemond had pushed with two knuckles a mug of tea towards you.

It was your favourite mug, and it looked like he had managed to make it perfectly. 

You blinked up at him, putting the kettle back in its holder and reaching for the tea. Your fingers grazed over his momentarily, heart racing as you took the mug from him. Warmth spread through your chest and you swallowed. 

“I’m sorry.” You breathed, picking up the mug to your lips, “I, uh,” You let out an awkward chuckle, “I think I had one too many martini’s last night.” Another awkward laugh, and then the words didn’t stop, Oh god, “Sara took me to this new bar, and it was so cool, it actually reminded me a bit of you. We had one drink aft-“

“-Don’t worry about it.” Aemond interrupted your anxious rambling, his cool gaze on you, face blank.

You nodded and sipped at the tea.

Your heart raced in your chest.

It was perfect.

“Thanks for the tea. And for dealing with me last night.” Another awkward laugh, you lifted the mug towards him.

Aemond hummed, looking away to sip at his coffee, the strong smell of the beans surrounding you. 

You stood together in the quiet of the kitchen, awkward energy surrounding the both of you before he set down his empty mug. He stepped closer, his chest almost bushing yours. Your breath caught in your throat as his hand reached forward.

And then over you to turn on the sink, a small ‘excuse me’ falling from his lips as he rinsed his mug and placed it into the dishwasher. 

Your cheeks felt hot and you sucked in a shaky breath. 

Aemond didn’t speak another word, and turned away from you, heading towards the front door as he pulled out his AirPods and placed them in his ears. He disappeared down the hall, and the last thing you heard was the keys being pulled out of the dish, and the door opening and closing.

You let the breath you had been holding in out in one big gust. Hand moving to rub at your neck awkwardly. 

What the fuck was that?

-

The day droned on as it would with Larys hovering over your shoulder as usual. It didn’t help that you had not heard a word from Gwayne Hightower, and were swamped with endless calls from investors and clients whom he had meetings with and didn’t show.

“Do you know where Gwayne is?” You leant over your desk, looking to the one next to yours, a solicitor names Jasper Wylde watching at you with steely eyes. 

His curly hair shifted as he turned to face you, dark beard trimmed perfectly against his chin, “No clue. He may be at the magistrates office. Got a text from Tyland this morning saying that something went down at the case this morning.”

You sighed loudly, leaning back in your chair, “That’s the last thing we need. How come Tyland texted you and not me? I’ve got calls coming out of my ass from angry and disgruntled clients about Gwayne missing their meetings.”

Jasper shrugged, “You know what Tyland is like, useless at the best of times.”

You snorted and rolled back to your desk.

Jasper was nice, stiff, but nice.

He took his job very seriously, and Tyland Lannister often called him Ironrod as a joke. Though he was older and a complete professional, it didn’t stop him from sending an occasional flirty glance your way, or rise of his dark brows.

Recently divorced.

You knew he had had four wives, all ending in divorce, and multiple kids with each one. You didn’t know how he had the time to support them all, let alone spend time with them. But he did, and you had been surprised when you first started and saw the pictures pinned to his cubicle of all his kids. 

There was, at the very least, ten. 

Ironrod might be more fitting for something else. 

By the time the day ended, you had slumped in your chair, sighing loudly as you packed away your things. You turned to look at Jasper who was still working.

He never followed the clock ‘off at five’ rule you had, and would often stay behind to get everything perfect. 

A real stickler for law.

You walked to the train station and jumped on the next one that rolled slowly into the subway. On your way home, your anxiety flared again. You hadn’t even answered Helaena’s texts asking about how you were and how Aemond was. Each time your fingers hovered over the notification a wave of guilt would crash over you.

You didn’t even know how to respond to it. What could you say? ‘Everything is great! It’s super awkward, but so fine. By the way, did I mention that I almost let your brother take me against the kitchen bench? Haha, anyway, how are you?’

You shuddered at even the thought of telling her yet.

Stopping at the grocery store, you decided to pick up some things you knew you were running low on, as well as grabbing the ingredients you needed to make dinner with for the night.

What you hadn’t expected when you arrived home, was the smell of cooking food filling the apartment and the sound of sizzling vegetables coming from the stove, ‘Kletka - Molchat Doma’ streaming out of your speaker. You chucked your keys in the dish atop Aemond’s and kicked off your shoes, shuffling to the kitchen.

He stood facing the stove, hair pulled back in a low and messy bun, shorter strands tucked behind his ears.

The tall man had changed out of his running gear, and was in a black t-shirt and some black dickies cuffed at the bottom, large black Doc Martins tied tightly on his feet. 

You watched as his shoulders spread, muscles rippling beneath his shirt as he cooked, the smell of spices filling the kitchen and lounge room.

It smelt so good that your mouth watered.

Aemond effortlessly flipped food in a pan, arm tight and tensed, veins visible on his pale skin as he worked. It was almost enchanting watching him cook, and your stomach did a flip as you gazed, warmth spreading into your gut.

“You going to stand and watch the whole time?”

You tensed, and sheepishly cleared your throat, “What are you cooking?” You walked over to stand next to him, his eye slipping to you from the corner of his eye as he continued to flip and stir the food.

“Dinner.”

You snorted, “I can see that.” You turned away and began to put your groceries and things away, opening the fridge to see that it was already full.

Aemond had gone grocery shopping.

“Do you eat meat?” He asked, chucking in some before you answered.

“Yea, I do.”

He hummed, flicking a finger out to turn the speaker down slightly so he could hear you better. He reached above him and pulled down two bowls, stirring the dinner again in the saucepan before he flicked it over into the two bowls.

He spun and gave you one, turning the speaker off.

Aemond made you dinner.

“Oh, thanks.” You uttered, taking the bowl from his hands before digging into the cutlery draw to pull out two forks.

Aemond hummed again, grabbing a fork from your hand as he turned the stove off and grabbed his own bowl, moving to the couch to eat. You followed after him, still in your work clothes and sat on the opposite end of the couch, feeling static energy between you both. 

He flicked on the tv and began eating, dropping his phone on the table face down. You followed and began eating, watching some show about dragons and royalty. 

The dinner was amazing. 

You even groaned audibly as you ate. 

Aemond was a good cook.

“This is amazing.” You complimented him, shoving another forkful into your mouth, flavour exploding on your tongue.

Aemond hummed in acknowledgement.

“Who taught you to cook like this?”

“Helaena.” He smiled.

“Of course she did.” You chuckled, feeling the tension between you begin to dissolve. 

This was fine. 

You could pretend nothing happened.

He totally didn't have you pressed against the kitchen bench with his finger on your cunt last night.

“How was work?” He turned his head to you, eye concentrated on your face, watching your reaction.

You groaned, “Shit. Gwayne did a Harold Holt and left me to clean up the mess.”

Aemond’s brows frowned, “Harold Holt?”

You flicked your hand in dismissal, “Australian Prime Minister. Anyway, absolute nightmare of a day, so thanks for dinner. I was thinking after I got groceries I would just come home and make some noodles.”

Aemond smirked, and your stomach fluttered at the sight, “I got groceries too.”

You smirked back, “I saw that. Thanks by the way. Great minds do think alike.”

The coffee table buzzed from Aemond’s phone, once, twice, three times in succession. You watched as a long arm reached out to press the silence button, dropping it back onto the table with a huff. 

You polished off your dinner, watching the show together.

“Why doesn’t she just take her dragons to the castle and kill everyone?” You watched the silver haired woman on the screen and couldn’t help but think of the man beside you.

“That would mean she kills innocents and proves a point to her enemies that she is cruel like her father.” Aemond mused. 

His phone buzzed again.

“But she’s proven that she’s not. If anything, she’s shown restraint and empathy.” You argued, before a large smirk wound on your face, “Now that I look at her, you guys look similar. You’re more brooding though.”

“Brooding again.” Aemond huffed a laugh and you followed.

“Brooding and a chef. You won’t get any complaints from me.” You paused tilting your head and nodded to the screen, “If I was her I’d just kill everyone.”

“Spoken like a true tyrant.” 

“Tyrant of this apartment, and this apartment only. Maybe my office cubicle if my boss is being particularly slimy.”

Aemond hummed, “Larys giving you a hard time?”

You grimaced, “When does he not? I don’t know what your mum sees in him.” Aemond nodded in agreement, “At least I don’t work under Tyland Lannister, he would be a nightmare not even I could survive.” 

The thought of working under your ex’s brother made your skin crawl, you didn’t even want to think about it.

The table vibrated again, and then again. Aemond snatched up his phone, pale brows frowning as he looked at the screen. His lips twitched and you watched any inkling of the good mood he had been in disappear.

He threw his phone down on the table with more force than needed, the sound causing you to flinch.

“Who’s that? Don’t tell me Aegon’s stuck in some sorority bathroom again.” You tried to lighten the mood, teasing tone in your voice. 

Aemond’s cheek twitched and you watched as his hands flexed, “No one.” His voice came out almost like a growl.

You felt a pang of concern for him, “Are you ok?”

Aemond stood abruptly, grabbing his bowl and shoving his phone into his pocket roughly, “Drop it.”

You blinked up at him as he snatched your finished bowl and made his way to the kitchen. 

-

Over the next two days Aemond avoided you completely, leaving early and coming home late, opting to either eat outside of the house or in his room. His avoidance of the apartment came at a great relief as well as a disappointment.

You were back to square one, and you had a sneaking suspicion that his mood came from either his ex or news of his father. 

You had finally replied back to Helaena, shooting her an apology and then calling her after to tell her about work and see how she was doing. She sounded a bit shorter than usual, but she told you that being back with the family had been tense, and that her dad was not doing great.

You wished you could console her, hold her and let her cry, but you were stuck in the house with her brother and unable to go to her with the pile of work that was mounting on your desk. 

When she had asked about Aemond, your heart had raced in your chest, anxiety peaking as you lied and told her that he was nice enough but rarely home. You didn’t tell her about your kiss in the kitchen, or how his hand had gone up your dress, and guilt ate away at you because of this. 

You told yourself you would tell her, but not now. Not with everything else going on in her life. You couldn’t add another pile of flaming shit to the stress she was going through.

You would reap the consequences later.

After the third day had passed of Aemond avoidance of you, you found him in the kitchen that morning where you had found him on Monday, leant against the bench, coffee in hand, and a steaming mug of tea beside him. 

An apology. 

Or at least, one in his opinion.

He greeted you with a soft and rumbling ‘morning’ before he left to go on his run, leaving you with the tea. You stood leant against the bench and drank the brew that was perfectly steeped to your liking. 

Helaena must have told him how you liked it, or maybe he taken a good guess. Either way, you were gladdened for his shite apology and drank it happily.

You went to work and made sure to politely chew Gwayne out with multiple ‘per my last email’s and flooded him with rebooked meetings that were back to back for him to chase up on. He had come to your desk, leaning against it as he watched you and explained the reason for his absence, all the while Jasper pretended to not be listening in.

Gwayne often tried to ‘connect’ with you on a more personal level, but he annoyed you more than anything. He had this air around him that screamed ‘Trad Wife Fantasy’ and you were definitely not one to entertain that. Misogyny seemed to be ripe in the Hightower circles.

When you had got home that evening, Aemond was not, and so you began to heat up leftovers from the night before.

The apartment had felt cold despite the warmth outside, and you realised that the aircon had been left on for likely the whole day. You turned it off, making a note to check it before you leave in the mornings, chucking on an oversized jumper before sitting down to eat. 

You flicked on the tv to put a show on and zone out, needing to let your brain turn to mush after the long day, before finishing your meal and putting your dishes in the washer. You were curled up amongst the pillows with your jumper sleeves tucked over your hands when you heard keys be pushed into the door. 

Aemond entered the apartment, long silver hair shifting against his back as he sauntered in. His eye dropped to you on the couch and gave you a small nod. You nodded back, greeting him with a small ‘hey’ before going back to watching the television.

Aemond moved about the kitchen to make himself dinner and you scrolled through your phone, wondering if you should reply to Cregan’s text asking if you wanted to go out drinking with him and the boys that weekend.

The couch dipped beside you, Aemond having sat in the centre of the couch, thigh brushing against yours.

“What’re you watching?” He asked, face turned to the tv. 

You turned to look at Aemond’s, who’s attention was locked on the screen.

Everything about him was so severe. The way he spoke, the way he moved, the music he listened to, all way to how he interacted with others, and his features reflected it. His nose was long and sharp, and it matched his chin and jaw, his scar slicing through his eye to his cheek. 

But his lips were different. They weren’t sharp like the rest of him, they were soft. So soft, and the way he had held you in the kitchen was softer than you had expected he would have been. 

You had expected him to grip your neck roughly, whisper in your ear obscenities, shove you backwards into the shelves, and bend you over the bench to wrench your dress over your ass, and d-

His face turned to you as he asked you again, and you swallowed feeling heat rise in your cheeks, “Some show about a zombie apocalypse.” You answered.

Was it hot in here?

Why was it so hot all of a sudden?

Aemond hummed, lifting a long leg to cross over a knee, his thigh hovering above yours, as warmth from his body spread up through you, travelling straight to your gut. 

He smelt good. 

Spicy and dark, with a hint of cigarette hanging in the undertones.

Feeling suddenly warm, you gripped the underside of your jumper and lifted, pulling it up and over your head. Cool air met your stomach and chest, and you snapped a hand down to pull the shirt that had gotten caught in your jumper back over your skin. 

Shit.

One arm after the other, you took the jumper off in a flustered set of movements, chucking it onto the arm of the couch as you tried to hide the blush of your cheeks. 

Ok.

He hadn’t said anything.

Clearly he hadn’t seen otherwise he would have said something. It was Aemond, he would have been snarky and sarcastic or chastising. It’s fine. So fine. Totally fine. Not as if you didn’t just flash him. Not at all.

Everything was fine.

You sat for a moment, adjusting yourself against the couch cushions, suddenly not being able to get comfortable, feeling a shyness spread through your chest. You breathed shallowly. A peak couldn’t hurt. You let your head turn slightly to look at Aemond. 

His jaw was clenched, hand against his knee in a tight fist, small blush on his cheeks.

The couch vibrated and Aemond stiffened, this time not reaching to look at his phone. 

Okay. 

Maybe he had seen. 

Fuck.

You stood awkwardly, grabbing the discarded jumper. Aemond looked up, watching you, chest rising and falling slowly beneath his shirt.

“Gonna have a shower,” You blurted, watching his silver lashes blink up at you, “Unless you want first dibs?” 

Aemond shook his head and you moved away, walking straight to the bathroom. 

Your stomach was full of butterflies as you made your way to the bathroom, stripping quickly to turn on the shower and let the water run cold, trying to cool the rising heat inside of you.

You spent ample time in there, goosebumps erupting on your skin as you attempted to ignore the way the man in your lounge room stoked a fire within you.

But no matter how hard you tried, it didn’t work.

You turned off the shower and stepped out, looking over at the towel rack to grab your towel to dry yourself.

Nothing.

Fuck.

On the back of the door was Helaena’s lilac silk robe, something she always wore when you would do a girls night in, face masks and hair care, and painted nails with your favourite movie, always Pride and Prejudice (2005 version), and a bottle of red. You grabbed the robe off the rack and threw it over your body, the silk clinging to your wet skin.

You swung the door open to run to the linen closet and grab yourself a new towel, running straight into a warm and broad chest. Hands steadied your shoulders as you stumbled backwards, eyes snapping up to meet Aemond’s gaze.

His fingers were tight around your arms, clenched into your flesh as he looked down at you. You swallowed, breathing heavily as your heart raced, the air between you charged.

“You can let go of me now.” You breathed, still in his grip as he looked at you. 

His gaze darkened as his eye roamed down your body, and you felt heat brushing against your skin from it. Aemond’s gaze dropped further down still, hovering over your chest as he breathed heavily.

His fingers twitched and then skated down your arms to his side, raising goosebumps along your skin. He took a step back as you moved around him to open the linen cupboard, pulling down a towel. 

From behind you could still feel his eye roaming over you, warmth sliding down your spine and into your gut. You gave him a small and shy smile before you stepped back into the bathroom, towel held against your chest. 

Why was he staring at you like that?

You turned in the bathroom and caught your reflection in the mirror, you could now see why. 

The thin lilac silk had stuck to your wet skin, becoming almost sheer, patches of the wet robe clinging to your curves, whilst the rest was dry and soft. The dark of your nipples were revealed against the soft material, and the curve of your breast was visible.

You blushed deeply, taking off the robe to hang it back the door to dry as you towelled yourself down, dressing into some comfortable pyjamas to get ready for bed.

Anxiety nipped at you again.

Gods.

Had you just flashed him twice in one day?

What was he going to think of you?

He probably thought you were doing it on purpose. 

Deciding to go back out to the lounge room and swallow the embarrassment that sat heavily in the back of your throat, you trudged quietly into the room, Aemond sitting stiffly on the couch as he continued to watch the show that was still playing on the screen. 

When you sat beside him, his head had turned slightly to look at you, eye taking in your now clothed form, a blush spreading across your cheeks. You tucked your legs beneath you and began to watch it, still feeling his gaze solely on you, and no longer paying attention to whatever was on the screen.

“Did anyone die?” You asked, not daring to turn your head to fully face him, knowing that you would lose all composure once you did.

“Don’t think so.” Aemond’s voice was low and gravelly and it made you shift on the cushion.

You made an awkward sound in the back of your throat, an attempt at a laugh, but it came out more like a whine, “That’s good then, I don’t want to miss anything important.”

Aemond huffed, “You could have paused it.”

His shift in demeanour caught you off guard, “But you were watching it.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Then how do you know if anyone died?”

“I don’t.”

You turned your face to look at him annoyed, “Then why say no-one died?”

Aemond lifted a brow at you, lips beginning to pull down, “I didn’t say that at all. I said I didn’t think so.”

“That implies you were paying attention.” You argued, feeling annoyed at his snarky attitude again.

Aemond dragged an irritated hand through his hair, “I don’t care about your stupid fucking show. If you didn’t want to miss something, then maybe you should have been smart and paused it.” 

Your head reared back as you looked at him, his mood rapidly having soured, “What the fuck is your problem?”

The man let out a hollow laugh, “Fuck off.”

His phone vibrated in the couch cushions.

“No seriously dude. What is your deal? You’ve been on my dick ever since you moved in. I’m doing you a favour here.”

Anger flashed across the Targaryens face, his brows pulling down into a sneer as his scar crinkled across his cheek, “You think you’re doing me a favour?”

You were wrong, his lips could be sharp.

Buzz.

You turned on the couch to face him, “You’re the one who needed change. Who needed to leave Harrenhal and come back here. You took Helaena’s room so you could get settled and start fresh.”

“You don’t know anything about what I need.”

Buzz.

“You need to check your phone for a start, because whoever is messaging you is clearly desperate to get in touch. Maybe it’s Alys.”

The air in the room dropped, and Aemond’s face became stoney, as though he had pushed away all emotions to the back of his mind with cool practice. The way his posture had even changed looked as though he was on guard, ready to fight. 

Regret flooded you as you looked at him.

You felt immediately terrible, having crossed a line that should never had been crossed. You knew his break up with Alys was bad, and their relationship was not great, and you had just rubbed that in his face. 

“That was uncalled for, I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry.” You apologised quietly, watching as his chest rose and fell jaggedly.

Aemond’s jaw was tensed, lips pursed together in a hard line as his eye narrowed on you, “Do you want to know what my problem is?” He leant forward, voice barely higher than a whisper. 

You swallowed.

“My problem is that I live with someone who parades herself half naked around the apartment, and brings home men to fuck her loudly, all night, like a tart.”

You blanched, anger rising up your throat, “A tart? Wow.” Your voice dropped, “That's low. Even for you, Aemond.”

“You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know enough.” You sneered, standing from the couch to look down at him, “You have this ‘woe is me’ performance down to a T, when in reality you were born into a family of old money, not having to work a single day in your life, yet you still act as though you are downtrodden. You’re a spoilt, narcissistic asshole who looks down his purebred nose at people. You have more in common with Jason Lannister than you’d like to think.” You spun on your heel, anger bursting inside of you as you moved to storm away from the lounge room and into your bedroom. 

Aemond’s hand shot out and grabbed your wrist tightly as he began to stand, “Is that what you really think?”

“It’s what I know. You’ve so far treated me as lesser than the dirt on the bottom of your shoe. You’ve got some serious social deficiencies, Aemond. Did Daddy not hug you enough as a child?” You mocked, striking him where you knew it would hurt the most. 

Fuck him.

Fuck being nice.

Arrogant, rich, prick.

Aemond straightened to his full height above you, looking down as he silently seethed. The air around you was charged, and the tension continued to mount as he watched you, eye locked on yours.

“Careful, bunny.”

“Stop fucking calling me that.”

“Why?” His voice dropped, “It’s what you like, isn’t it? Being called bunny, being treated rough. I could bend you over this couch right now and I bet you’d be soaked.”

Your eyes widened, breath stilling in your chest.

Aemond took another step forward, dropping your wrist, “I’m right aren’t I? You act out like this because you want to be put in your place. You want to be a brat so daddy will fuck you, don’t you?”

A chill ran down your spine as he loomed above you, “Don’t you?”

You swallowed thickly, eyes narrowing, “Fuck you.”

Aemond chuckled, “I bet you’d love that.” His hand moved swiftly, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear, tingles rippling down your neck.

His hand kept going, brushing through your hair softly, before he gripped a large chunk harshly at the nape of your neck. 

A shocked gasp fell from your lips.

“Answer me.”

“No.”

Defiant until the end.

“No?” His brows raised, “Then if I check, you wouldn’t be dripping right now, would you?”

You raised your head in false bravado, a blush creeping across your skin, standing as impossibly still as you could. Challenging him.

Aemond hummed, spinning you around by the grip on your hair, swiftly bending you over the arm of the couch. A cry fell from your lips as your hips and stomach collided with the edge, hands gripping the side to catch yourself.

Your heart was beating against your ribs as you shifted in anticipation, the heat of Aemond’s body loomed behind you as he bent over you, lips coming to beside your ear.

“Now, if I check, and you are wet, you’re in trouble.” He purred.

You squirmed, his hand tugging on your tendrils sending pleasure down your spine and straight to your core. He chuckled, and you whined again, feeling one of his large palms skate down your side agonisingly slow before he reached your pyjama bottoms. 

Aemond’s long fingers dipped beneath the elastic and paused for a moment, as though he was giving you a second to say no. But you said nothing, eyes focused on the cushion in front of you as he tugged the shorts down in one swift yank.

Aemond tutted behind you, dragging one long finger to swipe through your folds. Your back arched as you whined, teasing pleasure rippling up through you.

You could feel how wet you were, and your thighs rubbed together in anticipation of what was to come. 

He clicked his tongue at you, “You’re soaked.” Aemond’s hand left your core and you turned your head to look at him, watching as he brought the slick finger up to his lips to suck. 

Your lips parted as your watched, his eye sliding shut as he licked his finger clean, humming. 

“So sweet.” He cooed, “But I was right.” His voice lowered, and he loomed back over you, looking into your eye as his face hardened, “You’ve been such a brat tonight.”

You shook your head, tilting your hips back towards him, biting your lip as you looked at him. A smirk wound on his face as he watched you, hand moving back between your thighs where they instantly found your bud. 

He pressed into it meanly, and a sharp cry fell from your lips.

“Shut up.” He hissed, diving two long fingers into your core with no warning. 

Your eyes clenched shut as he immediately began to fuck his digits in and out of you, delicious stretch blooming within as the lewd sound of your wetness was all to be heard over your shallow breaths. 

Aemond stayed bent over you, watching your face contort with pleasure as you tried to keep your moans inside, biting your lip roughly. 

It was so hard.

Every drag of his fingers found the soft spongey spot within you with practised precision and without mercy, roughly pressing into it with each thrust of his hand, sending sparks of pleasure up your spine and heat to settle in your gut. 

“So quiet now.” He teased, “Where’s that attitude gone?”

“Fuck you.” You grit through your teeth panting, eyes half lidded.

Aemond huffed, straightening up to his full height as his other hand pressed down on your lower back, pinning you to the couch arm. His hand began to fuck into you rapidly, slick leaking down your thighs as you writhed beneath his grip, coil beginning to tighten. 

A broken moan fell erupted from your lips as the knuckles of his hand beat harshly against your clit, pain and pleasure being pulled through you in equal measure. The pain eventually being overridden by the euphoria that he was pulling from you. 

Your walls tightened around his fingers and you felt him shift, the width of his other hand spreading widely across your back as he knelt behind you. You squeaked, trying to move, feeling suddenly shy, which earnt you a particularly harsh swat against the flesh of your ass.

“Stay still.” Aemond growled, and you did, feeling the warm of his breath at your core. 

Your legs shook as his fingers were pulled from within, and you heard him lap at his digits once more, humming almost pornagraphically. 

“Such a dirty, little girl. So wet and wanting for daddy, aren’t you? Such a slut.”

You mewled, hips shifting upwards, trying to take his fingers back inside of you. 

You were so close, so fucking close. 

Aemond leant forward, and dragged a wide stripe with his tongue up through your folds, humming as he moved, his sharp nose pressing into your backside. 

“Fuck.” You whined, jolting forward.

Aemond’s hands grabbed your cheeks and spread them wide in a bruising grip before he dived between your folds, licking and sucking at your pearl with no abandon, your release coming closer and closer with every swipe of his skilled tongue.

He moaned as he lapped at your arousal, tongue dipping between your folds to collect it straight from the source. Aemond’s fingers dug into your flesh meanly as you whined, hips jerking backwards, chasing your release. He held you still, fucking you with his tongue as your climax hurtled towards you. 

“Please.” You begged, fingers gripping the couch for dear life, knuckles going white.

Aemond paused and pulled back, “Please what?” He asked coyly.

You groaned, “Please make me cum.”

“But you don’t deserve that, do you? You’ve been a bitch all night, haven’t you?”

You whined, pushing your hips back as you felt him stand behind you again, “Not true.” You argued pathetically, “You were mean first.”

Aemond’s hand pulled your head back by your hair, eye boring into your own, “You haven’t seen mean at all, princess.”

His fingers pressed back into your walls, head still wrenched back painfully as he fucked his hand into you harder and faster than before, the coil within winding rapidly.

“Fuck. Fuck. Aemond, fuck.”

“Not my name.” He yanked on your hair, pain pulling at your scalp, “What’s my name?”

“Aemond.” You breathed jaggedly, last bit of cheekiness coming through.

His hand stilled inside of you, “No.”

You wriggled and whined, trying to push yourself back to fuck yourself on his fingers. His grip in your hair tightened again, preventing you from making any movements as he kept his fingers still. 

A warning.

You swallowed the last of your pride, and whimpered, “Daddy.”

“Good girl.” Aemond cooed, his hand began to fuck into you again, thumb curling beneath to press into your bud and rub with every thrust, “Beg.”

You whined, biting your lips as pleasure began to mount, your release so close you could begin to feel the peak.

“Beg.” He growled again, thrusts getting harder.

“Please,” You sobbed out, “Please let me cum. Please let me cum, daddy.”

“There, that wasn’t so hard was it?” He mocked, fucking his hand into you as fast as he could go.

The swirling of his thumb combined with his fingers moving rapidly, caused heat to bloom through your gut as your breath held in your chest. It was all too much, and the coil within wound pathetically fast as his skilled hand brought you to your peak. 

“There you go.” He cooed from behind, feeling your walls clench around his digits, “Good girl.”

You came with a cry, hips pressing backwards into his hand as he fucked you through your climax, drawing out each and every inch of pleasure that he could. The room was filled with your moans and whines, the wet sound of your heat engulfing his fingers behind you.

Aemond slowed his thrusts down as you slumped against the arm of the couch, mind going fuzzy as pleasure coursed through your veins. Aemond removed his fingers carefully, wiping your slick on the inside of your thighs as you felt him look down at you.

Buzz.

You breathed heavily, lost in bliss as a small smile wound on your cheeks. You heard him chuckle behind you at the sight. Completely fucked out on the couch. And only with his hands and mouth.

Buzz.

“You gonna get that?” You sighed dreamily, pants still pushed down to your knees as lay slumped in a daze. 

Buzz.

You turned your head to look at Aemond as he pulled out his phone in agitation, face scowling at the screen. You moved to sit on the arm of the couch, pulling your shorts up as you looked at him scrolling through his notifications.

“Are you okay?” You asked softly, feeling concern at seeing his sudden change in nature, “Is it your dad?”

His cool gaze flicked to your face, and you felt the warmth that had once surrounded you grow cold. It was like he had flicked a switch, “How about you mind your own business.” He scowled.

You furrowed your brows at him, “Woah, relax. I just wanted to know if you were okay.”

Aemond scoffed, shoving his phone back into his back pocket, “Are you always this overbearing?”

You blanched.

What the fuck?

Buzz.

“What?” You said in disbelief, brows furrowing. 

“Oh, please.” He growled angrily, “Making me dinner, asking after me all the time. If I had known you were that desperate-“

“-Desperate?” 

A flash of regret washed over Aemond’s face. He sighed through his nose and stepped towards you, “Y/n, I-“

“Don’t.” You held a hand up, feeling tears begin to prickle at your eyes standing on shaky legs, “This was a mistake.”

Aemond’s face dropped.

The silver haired man sighed again, “If you would just l-“

“If you treated Alys half as bad as this, it’s no wonder she left you.” You snapped, watching as his jaw tensed, feeling an ache bloom in your chest, “You have no regard for anyone else but yourself, and what we just did was a lapse in my judgement. I thought that you-“ You paused and swallowed, not bothering to finish what you were going to say.

Aemond stood deathly still as you sped past him, not waiting for his response as you fled to your bedroom, slamming your door shut behind you. You crawled immediately into the sheets, tears finally falling from your eyes as you cried softly, turning onto your side to curl in on yourself. 

You felt used.

If there was one thing that you knew, it was that Aemond was not a good person, no matter what Helaena said.

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

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[7ndipity]

Fights with them

Ot7 x Reader

Summary: what they would be like during fights/arguments

Warnings: a lot of angst, not proofread

A/N: after days of struggling to work(hello executive disfunction) I got this request, and my brain decided to jump back into gear and I wrote this in like an hour, as well as half of another request!? 🤷idk, I'm not gonna question it, I'm just glad I'm writing again.

Masterlist

Requests are open

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Seokjin: as much as he bickers with the members, I think he has a rather avoidant personality when it comes to real conflict. He's said he allergic to seriousness, which can definitely become an issue if not careful, as it can one off as indifferent or dismissive. I think he usually ends up snapping and saying something short but pointed, and then walks away before things can escalate further. Always comes back all apologetic, and tries to work through things more calmly.

Yoongi: He's very upfront and sometimes blunt, and he's said before that he hates getting angry/fighting, so I think most issues would be resolved before they can turn into a full blown fight. But I also think he might have a tendency to ignore/avoid smaller issues until they build up. In the moment, he's not that loud, but he's very sharp with his words. Immediately regrets saying anything that might have hurt you afterwards. Definitely needs some time to himself to think and get his emotions under control, but would want to apologize and resolve everything as quickly as possible.

Hobi: He's almost to open too let a fight brew properly. He'll see it coming be like, "wait, let's step back and sort this out" before it gets out of hand. When they do happen though, he's loud only for a moment, and then the rest of the time, he's unnervingly quiet. As I said in his dating HCs, fights almost always culminate in tears because he can't stand y'all being upset with each other. Like, it causes him physical pain. Makes up the fastest out of all the members.

Namjoon: tbh, I think I would fight with him the most out of the members. He's soo stubborn and passive aggressive. Tries to dismiss the issue to de-escalate the situation, but that almost always backfires. Gets loud and slams things/doors, then gets mad at himself for letting his emotions get the better of him. Definitely needs time to cool off before coming back to talk to you; could be an hour, could be three days, depends on the situation. But he does always come back to talk it out with you.

Jimin: I know several of the big fight stories involve him, but that doesn't necessarily mean that he's overly combative, I just think that when he feels strongly about something, he won't back down, which can be a good thing, until it isn't. If it's a smaller argument, he'll just say something snappish and then move on like nothing happened, but in bigger fights, he can rival Joon on volumeand intensity. He can also hold a grudge like you wouldn't believe, so communication is a super important part of resolving the issue so nothing brews into bitterness.

Taehyung: He has a tendency to get very wrapped up in the moment and take things personally, so even small fights can snowball into something bigger if you're not careful. Yells and tries to put up a tough exterior, but starts to crack pretty quick and will want to leave before his other emotions show too much. Another crier(same). Ultimately, can't stand being away from you for too long, the type that will climb in bed and hold you, but not speak because the wounds are still fresh. Will probably talk it out with you the next morning.

Jungkook: He's such a emotional and overly reactive person, so I see fights being a common occurrence with him tbh. With smaller fights, he stays pretty calm, but when things escalate, he's all over the place. Definitely an angry crier. For some reason, I don't see him really yelling during fights? He's more like Hobi in that, if he does, it only happens in bursts and the rest of the time, his tone is just slightly raised(like when he scolds ppl during lives). Does not like to walk away and wants to sort things out then and there, even though that's probably not the best idea, but he doesn't want to let the tension drag on longer than it has to.

[captainwholecake]

Sanji with a male s/o who’s a simp for him and only him like very protective but very sweet to him

Thx and have a great day❤️

a/n: TWO MEN FINALLY TWO MEN (in the tone of that two men tiktok sound)

warings: my enby ass going hard becuase male based fics are some of the best fics i’ve ever read and I usually go gender neutral anyways but I’ll make this more male on this

——

Is it considered a culture shock if it’s really just sanji seeing how his behavior is just less weird

not to mention he liked it

give this man bf NOOOWW HE DESERVES IT

I feel it would a twink situation too like only a twink would be able to get pass this man

Nothing bad not like he wouldn’t be into twinks or that he likes twinks bc they’re feminine or whatever I just feel like only a doe eye bitch would get to him like a woman would

like pudding for example she was kind of doe eyed

and also seeing someone act like he does to women would get to him going like heart racing, blood rushing do-

It would a be lapdog that thinks its a great dane situation I just know

“Don’t worry he don’t bite” the bf proceeds to bite someone

Recently got really into Gulity Gear and I feel like the dyamanic would be very aba and para coded just less intense on the aba side things but sanji would he very para coded

Theres a interaction where aba talks about her favorite color and para TURNS into that color (if you know nothing about gg hes a demon stuck inside a gaint key shaped axe) and he talks about being “her partner” it just feels like something sanji would do if he could

i feel like sanji and this bf would switch on whose more protective like on the battlefield or fights all his safety goes out the window when his bf is around he’s the #1 priorty now but in normal everyday events the bf is just a fluffy lapdog who growl at all that comes near unless trusted like the crew

zoro’s afraid to use them as an insult. he has it thought up and planned but scared two separate people will jump him he does

the lapdog bs comes full throttle when the events of whole cake island comes around

shit gets emotional lets just leave at that because if you’re reading this is you know what happens in that arc

I don’t think it would become worst but bf has a lot more a understanding on why he feels protective of sanji and why sanji can be for him

ohhh my queen reiju would love the bf I just know

she would thank him for not only being there for sanji but for taking care of him and protecting him

she definitely would also think of the bf of being a lapdog who thinks they’re a german shepherd I know it

The vibes I get from how imagine the bf is a border collie (new one piece oc just dropped???) which I know aren’t lapdogs but its the vibes do miniature border collies exist?

Anyways those types of dogs are how I see the bf a loyal mf who bite a bitch if needed

also application to be sanjis bf (as a enby)

[astrologanize]

august 2024 sun sign horoscope

aries sun: it's a good thing that you guys are usually able to find motivation for yourselves because this month you will have bouts of feeling down & out. within this year's lessons for you surrounding what is & is not worth the energy, subsequently there will be situations and opportunities that fall away from your path and leave you dazed. this month you're going to encounter a bypass/obstacles that make you feel hopeless, like you don't know what to do, and you may be tempted to become withdrawn. there may be something that falls apart or has already fallen apart and you need to try to put your very best foot forward regardless - time to get re-inspired! there may also be a situation that happens that is unfair or challenges you and it would be in your best interest to speak your mind. for the past few horoscopes your advice has been to not act, take a seat, but now it is time to stand up.

taurus sun: all year long there has been lessons for you in your one-on-one connections, the receptivity/give & take, conflict resolution, and hopefully you have been paying heed to such. this month has strong decisive energy coming through for you; your motivation may be increased to do something different with your life, to do away with certain things, you may have some chip on your shoulder that causes friction with others or you may just be involved in friction with others, you may be hasty or make hasty decisions, and its up to you to remember that you need to remain open (to the possibilities) instead of dying on hills. this is a great month for you to try new things, to plan new experiences, to consider alternatives, to listen to new perspectives, to have some spicy time & experiment in the bedroom, this is not a month to be persistent and/or endure.

gemini sun: lol transit mars in gemini wants cause some trouble for y'all i see. you geminis are gonna be feeling stuck like chuck this month, there is a situation or something going on for you in august that will make you have to put aside your feelings/wants and persist because there's not too much you can do about it - at least not at this time. but! you must try to keep up your productivity levels and do what you can with the hand you've been dealt, try not to shrug it off and be 'whatever' about it, get those gears in your head turning for good.

cancer sun: eh, i'm seeing potential carelessness for y'all this month because there are certain things that are being left in the air, there is a focus on options, and it's really on you to decide whether or not you're going to (continue to) struggle in vain or make the choice that is right/best for you - which of course will involve some difficulty for you in some way. it's time to straighten that backbone up, try to be proactive, try to have a good/healthy structure for yourself, and avoid letting things happen/come & go all willy nilly. rise above tomfoolery! very specific situation in my head but say you have a coworker that is shitty and this month something happens with them that puts you out and you have to take the high road. you've never gone to a supervisor about this shitty coworker but this time you need to say enough is enough and stand on business.

leo sun: for whatever reason i had a heavy feeling come through when i was reading for yalls month and i think its because this month the accumulation of everything that has come to pass is going to be nipping at you. you're not going to be in your feels in some woe is me way though, there will be a strong self-focus, you will be action-oriented this month, and you are going to be working towards finding or facilitating resolve. this isn't a month where you need to prioritize progress, what you need to do is take a step back and put the effort into tying up those loose ends - prioritize resolution indeed! try to avoid any crass behavior, you may experience crass behavior from others, find proper resolve where you can, and try to think before you speak (lol pretty similar to the june horoscope of needing to watch your words).

virgo sun: saturn in pisces has really had y'all out here like "what in the world am i doing?", huh? well, there's been a lot of floating for you throughout this year and this month will not be much different in that respect but you will be trying out new flavors for yourself! your expectations will be lessened and re-explored in august so that you can experience a new kind of freedom for yourself. it's like being on vacation in a foreign place and getting to experience all types of new foods and activities and spaces. lessen your expectations but try to have a healthy & flexible routine in place for this month so that you have a bit of balance as you slowly but surely rediscover what resonates with you.

libra sun: ooou la la look at y'all having a productive august. i'm seeing any petty emotions you had or may have being discarded and you actually choosing the mature path as you put your priorities in perspective and recognize the efforts you need to put forth. you have things to work on and by the end of the month you will definitely be far closer to your goals. amongst the productivity is also good rapport with others ; you will be cooperating with others and vice versa, maybe you hear people out more this month, perhaps you get closer to someone in your life, and your one-on-one interactions will be positive for the most part. it's a good month so don't waste it! don't try to control situations, avoid drama, avoid paranoia, and ultimately be open (even vulnerable perhaps).

scorpio sun: now why am i seeing potential messiness and you being reactive, hm? let's try to avoid that if we can buuut regardless. whatever you may have mind for this month i am seeing follow through so if you have a commitment to something then i do see you being able to step up to the plate. surrounding your month is a lighthearted energy and you may be more sociable this month, any plans to meet up with people will happen, there may be some notable gossip about you or adjacent to you or it's just somehow relevant to you, and there is potential messiness...you might get in your feels and want to be petty, you may have certain situations or connections in your life where pettiness is the norm and i do think it will be the same ol' same ol' with those connections (eyeroll emoji lol). you still have situations or habits in your life that you're needing to put an end to or are in the process of doing so and it isn't going to happen overnight, you just have to persist with choosing what's best for you.

sagittarius sun: well the good news is that this will not be a month you need to endure per se but it still involves growing pains nonetheless. this month is about being attentive to your life and any woes that are residual and/or current for you and being honest with yourself about them - i am emphasizing 'with yourself' because it's coming through very strongly that you should not confide or try harder with some connection in your life. either you have a connection in your life that you are struggling to distance yourself from because you're so used to the person (so it's a matter of comfort & familiarity) or you have/will take something more personally than you should. this is a time for you to stop enduring, to quiet your mind, to listen more than you speak, to attend to what you need to for yourself, and recognize any lack within yourself and your life.

capricorn sun: back in june you had a lack of certainty in yourself and the decisions that you were making but by this month you will be feeling, or will begin to be feeling, far more assured in yourself and ready to take life on again. you will have bouts of getting in your feels, you may get impassioned at times this month, but for the most part you're still in a space of trying to remain objective. there is something(s) in your life that you're wanting to let go of or you are in the process of letting go of and you're going to be feeling ready to find a new chapter. buuut like back in april, you need to remember to pace yourself instead of jumping in full force. not the best example but say there was a cat stuck in a tree, instead of you thinking you're a superhero and risking your own well-being in an attempt to retrieve the cat, it would be in your best interest to call the fire department to handle it - there are situations this month where you may have the urge to extend yourself further but try to refrain from doing so, you may feel a lil helpless at times and that is perfectly okay because you may need help this month!

aquarius sun: there is definitely potential for this to be a prosperous month for you if you choose to get inspired because there will be a new path formed for you in doing so. throughout august you will be making decisions to do things and to put things in place but you will also be having to rely on others at times, and this may create difficulty for you. for some of you, you need to be careful of taking advantage and using others this month but there may be an opportunity that does involve you relying on a connection to someone - it's like if you need a supervisor to vouch for you to help get you a promotion. you will have times throughout the month where you gain experience and/or you will feel more experienced or 'above' another. try to seize new opportunities, sign up for a new hobby/allow your energy to be released somehow, welcome in good energy.

pisces sun: there is something you have in mind or will have in mind this month that is not going to happen or it won't happen the way you want it to. whatever it is, you're going to deal with it and throughout august you will be dealing/having to deal with situations that force you to put your feelings aside. even when you have moments where your feelings pour out, you will be quick to suck it up and recognize that you have priorities to attend to. some sort of regret may come up, maybe it's one from the past or a regret that develops this month and again, you're going to deal with it - and by the end of the month you will have a more detached attitude towards it like 'what's done is done, i'm going to focus on what i can do presently'. try not to get in your head this month because that's how you make mountains out of molehills, focus on the reality in front you, be realistic, and be action-oriented in a practical sense.